Splash! Partygoers cannonball into the pool, one after the other, accompanied by laughter and squeals of those forcibly tugged into the sun-warmed water. Fruity spiked drink in hand, you weave through the crowd bopping to the beats of the latest summer hit, the volume turned all the way up to blasting. You’re currently looking for your phone. To be exact, you’re looking for the person you trusted it to: your best friend, Taehyung. The search would be a simple one… if you weren’t just a bit too hammered at the moment.
Aha. You think you spot the crop of his dark hair through the gyrating bodies and stumble over. It’s indeed Taehyung, currently dancing with a girl you’ve seen around once or twice before. One of his arms is cradled around her bared waist, the other gripping her thigh. His eyes are shut, dark brows pulled tight as he nods along to the booming bass.
“Tae!” You call, grabbing his arm. “Tae!” You have to shout despite only being a foot away.
He turns, breaking into a grin when he sees you. “Hey, what’s up?”
“My phone! Can I have my phone?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah! Hold on.” He reaches into his shorts, fishing for a few seconds before he produces it. “Here.”
“Cool, thanks.” You lean in, playfully kissing him on the cheek.
Treasure in hand, you try to find a place that’s quiet. Well, as quiet as a house party can be. That place happens to be the study, a room tucked away in the back that is mostly empty, save for a couple that’s making out passionately in the corner. You ignore them as you sink into a seat and hurriedly press your finger to the phone’s sensor.
The familiar selfie of you and Taehyung pops up on the screen and like usual, you pause and smile. It doesn’t deter you from your goal though. You thumb over the LINE app, waiting for it to load. Your thought process is this: you’re totally drunk, and that guy you went out on a date with last week, Jung Namjoon, hasn’t messaged you since. So, you’re just going to check in. Totally casual. Effortless. Some might even say breezy.
You force your vision to focus as you scroll through the conversations, finding the one you’re looking for not too far down the list.
[10:30pm] you: mm, i still prefer panties. theres just something about the lace that gets me.
[10:31pm] you: even better if they’re strappy and cheeky. makes me wanna rip them off
Wait. What the hell?
You read it again.
Your stomach turns. There is no way you sent such a message to Namjoon, especially not after a single date…right? You weren’t even friends; he was just a guy you met on a dating app and thought was cute. Shit. But the evidence is right here. Your drunk mind says you have to block him. You have to pretend this never happened.
Desperately, you open Namjoon’s profile. He’s smiling broadly in the picture, posing under an enormous tree. You squint. Even in your current state, you can tell the man in the photo is definitely handsome. He’s also definitely not Jung Namjoon. Instinctively, you brush your finger over the ‘nickname’ tab. Kim Namjoon. Oh. That’s one of Tae’s friends.
This is Tae’s phone.
When you awake the next morning from the persistent sun stabbing through your half-open blinds, you feel—speaking politely—fucking awful. Your head throbs mercilessly, your makeup is streaked all over your face, your breath could kill a man, and the worst part? You remember everything. Clearly, the extra shots you downed last night didn’t help your predicament at all.
“Ugggh…” As much as you’d like to lie here forever, you need water. Dragging yourself out of bed, you pad your way in fuzzy slippers to the kitchen. You lean against the counter as you sip from your mug, noticing that the room to Taehyung’s door is open. His keys aren’t hanging on the hook either. You figure he probably went home with the raven-haired beauty he was grinding up on all night.
What kind of panties was she wearing?
“Oh god, stop,” you scold yourself just as the door opens, and Taehyung pokes his head in.
“Stop what?” His hair is rumpled, cheeks rosy as he drops his backpack against the wall. “Are you talking to yourself again? Weirdo.”
“Shut up. No.” You roll your eyes. “How is your head not killing you?”
Taehyung shrugs as he strips his jacket off. He walks to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “I’m not the one who took five shots in a row like she wanted to die.”
“You saw that? I thought you already left with…” You gulp, swallowing the rest of your words as you instantly regret starting the sentence in the first place. That’s the one thing you and Taehyung never talk about. You’re not sure why, but it’s been that way since the first day of elementary school, save for one blip in high school that lasted all of a week. By now, your habits are too entrenched to change, and neither of you seem to want to anyway. You’re both aware that you have sex lives, of course, but it goes unspoken. You have your own circle of friends for that. And apparently Taehyung has… Namjoon.
“Nah.” Taehyung thankfully brushes it off as he collapses onto the couch. “Wanna order something for breakfast?”
You flop down next to him, following his lead as you forcibly shove the panties and the girl from your mind. “Yup. The greasier the better.”
It’s a few days later when the second term of summer classes start. For once, they’re a welcome distraction. You barely think about Tae’s texts as you throw yourself into the world of 18th century theatre, devouring your readings for class in hopes of an A+. That’s where you find yourself on this balmy Monday night, outlining your upcoming essay when your phone buzzes.
[6:23pm] jiminie: ur coming to the cabin this weekend, right?
The cabin: despite its name, it’s more like a house on a nearby island. Owned by Seokjin’s family, he invites everyone up at least once a term for a weekend of drinks and campfires.
[6:24pm] you: wouldn’t miss it!!!
[6:24pm] jiminie: good. the ship leaves at 2 so u better be there
You send a sticker of a blue Koala saying OK before getting up to knock on Taehyung’s door. “Tae!” You yell over the music that blares from his room, his bad habit that you’ve long gotten used to and now even kind of like.
The door opens a few beats later. “What’s up? You want to get food?”
“You make me sound like a pig. I do other things than eat, you know.”
Taehyung grins. “I’m not so sure about that.”
You lightly smack him on the shoulder and he feigns pain, mouth dropping into a shocked o. You stick your tongue out. “Anyway, there’s cabin this weekend. You in?”
“Hmm…” He taps his long fingers on the door frame. “Nah, not this time.”
“’Kay, suit yourself.” You smile. “I’ll have enough fun for the both of us.”
His eyes soften. “Just be safe.”
“Yeah, yeah, I will.” You swear, he picked up this nagging habit from your mom. Still, it’s nice to know just how much he cares. “Okay, essay calls.” You turn, and head back to work.
By the time Friday rolls around, you’re practically buzzing with excitement. Your friend has most graciously informed you that Min Yoongi is going to be coming to this trip, and lord knows you’ve had a lowkey crush on him since the first day of classes. He rarely attends these things, preferring the company of his work or his bed, but it looks like Jin managed to drag him along.
You’re currently sitting in a lecture hall, the duffel bag by your side all packed and ready to go. Try as you might to pay attention, your mind and eyes keep wandering back to the clock. Your class ends at 12:30pm, and if you hurry, you’ll make it to the ferry terminal just in time before the ride leaves.
The minutes tick by, but the professor just keeps prattling on. “Okay, that feels like a good place to stop.” She claps her hands together, closing the textbook. “I’ll see you all on Monday!”
Thank God. You grab your bag, already out of your seat when—
“Oh, wait! For the honors students, don’t forget the first thesis informational meeting is being held from 1-2:30 today. If you’re planning on writing the year-long thesis next term, it’s very highly recommended that you go.”
Shit. That was today? How the hell did you forget something as important as that? You sigh, mentally kissing any chance with Yoongi goodbye as you exit the lecture hall, texting Jimin the bad news. Your next stop has now changed to the campus coffee shop for a consolation coffee.
Looks like neither you or Taehyung will be having any fun this weekend.
When you finally get back home, darkness is the only thing that greets you when you unlock the door. You spent a few hours at the café working after the meeting, which had been as boring as you expected. Still, you’re glad you went, even if Jimin keeps sending you selfies of how much fun he’s having. He’s reached that point in the night when he starts stripping, and it won’t be long before he’s running into the ocean in his boxers. It’s happened before. You have video.
As you slip out of your sneakers, your phone buzzes with yet another message. This time, it’s a voice recording. Your lips twist into an amused grin, imagining what wildness awaits you as you push the phone to your ear. “Heyyyyyyy!” Jimin’s voice comes through like a trumpet. You’re so distracted, you hold onto your keys as you haul your duffel and backpack to your room.
Throwing everything onto the floor, you don’t even bother to turn on the lights before you starfish onto the bed to listen to the rest of Jimin’s babble. “Anyway, the ocean shouldn’t be so cold, right?” That’s where the message cuts out.
“Oh, Jimin,” you laugh as you sit up, let the phone fall onto the mattress. “Never change.”
You’re thinking you should probably unpack when you hear the lock clatter. Your head perks up. Perfect timing! Taehyung’s probably up for a few rounds of a game, or a movie. You can practically taste the buttery popcorn already. “Ta—” The sound is strangled in your throat when you hear a loud, high-pitched giggle.
“Oh god, don’t say that!” It’s not a voice you recognize. “Hey, isn’t your roommate home?”
“Nah, she’s at the cabin. See? Her keys aren’t here.”
Your eyes swing to the keyring lit up by moonlight; it lies haphazardly beside your duffel, the heart-shaped alien figurine a present from Tae for your birthday a few years back. Shit. You should probably come out now, reveal yourself before things progress further. But that would spoil their mood, wouldn’t it? And you don’t exactly have anywhere to go to give them space either.
“Oh, Taehyung…” She’s purring, dripping seduction. “Can’t you wait until we get to the bed?”
You’ve never heard his voice at this register before; the tone that’s already so deep somehow dipping even lower, laced with a carnality that feels at odds when you try to reconcile it with your best friend. A thump of something hits the floor, probably a belt buckle clanging with the hardwood. It jumpstarts this uncomfortable feeling in your stomach as you let the doorknob go and take a few steps until the back of your knees hit the bedframe.
“Mmm, I like this dress on you.”
“Yeah. It’s easy to take off.”
Normally, you would have cringed at the words that seem so odd spilling from his mouth. But in their own way, they fit this darker pitch that makes your heartbeat speed up. You tell yourself it’s only because you’re afraid you’ll be caught.
Rushed footsteps. A minute later, his bed creaks, accepting the new weight. You hear giggles and groans, followed by more rustles. Had these walls always been this thin? Your weak knees lead you down as you sit on the mattress, staring at the barrier that separates your rooms.
“I got all dressed up for you, Taehyung.”
“Do you like it? It’s my favorite thong.”
He prefers cheekies, you think, suddenly feeling somewhat superior with this knowledge. Lace. Strappy. Like the ones sitting so snugly against your skin.
“I love it, baby. Spread your legs for me.”
There’s no mistaking the betraying gush of lust between your thighs now.
Your clit is practically whining to be touched, straining against the self-control that slips a bit more with every noise Taehyung makes. You’re starting to want to catch every word that falls from his mouth.
Stop, no. Think. Think about anything else. You know you have to do something about the urgency that sprints through your veins, begging for relief. You conjure images of your last bedmate to mind, Hoseok, a man with chocolate eyes and a sunshine smile that turned devastating between the sheets. He’d made some memorable nights with that magic tongue of his. So you sink into your thoughts, eyes shut to better recall the smirks, the way he always licked your juices off his lips. Your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your shorts.
It works for all of a minute.
Next door, they’re unapologetically loud, interrupting your fantasy to force you into listening to Taehyung’s grunts, her mews. Try as you might, you can’t completely block them out. You know you could probably reach for your earphones, but it seems your hand is no longer discriminating as you draw tight circles on your clit over the fabric. If Taehyung saw you in these, what would he say? Would he tell you how pretty you were? Would he rip them off you like promised, or just drag them aside so he could French-kiss your cunt?
“Ahn…” You exhale muted gasps, trying to control yourself as the bed starts to knock against the wall in that telltale way. Logic is being crushed by the rising need. All you care about is Taehyung’s groans, guttural and filthy. The carnal quality to them that makes heat surge through your veins and pool at your crotch. Behind your closed eyes, you can see him: sweat rolling off his forehead, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, almost that look he gets when he’s just eaten something delicious, but better. So much better.
You’re bucking into your own palm, frustrated by the thin barrier of lace but going underneath feels forbidden, as if that would make it all real. He’s speeding up, the furniture shaking along with him. Somewhere along the way, you stopped imagining her. It’s you that he’s knelt over, powerful hands on your thighs as he pounds down, merciless. Though you’ve only seen the bulge by pure accident, you’re sure his cock would stretch you, force you into submission. You can practically feel him taking ownership from behind, using those nimble hips to slam into you again and again and ag—
“Fuck…!” A fresh jolt of pleasure and you unravel, cumming quickly, desperately, like you’ve been waiting for this release for years. Maybe you have. You don’t know. You’re all whimpers and muted cries, lost to the erratic pulsing of your cunt and bliss with one name imprinted in your mind.
Half a minute later, when the high dies and some strands of sanity amble their way back to your feverish brain, you become very aware that the rattling from next door has stopped. Your heart goes along with it, panic replacing any arousal as you swear under your breath. How loud were you just now? Oh god, oh god, did they hear? Even the girl’s moans have disappeared.
You body moves instinctively. Before you can change your mind, you grab your headphones from the bedside table. You stuff them into your ears, crank up the volume of whatever you were listening to last. You burrow under the covers, letting the music blast all coherent thought away, waiting for the dreaded knock on the door that thankfully never comes.
With no class or work, Saturday mornings are supposed to be a relaxing time. But currently you’re drilling holes in your ceiling as your stomach grumbles in protest. You woke up three hours ago, precisely at eight, like usual. Not wanting to chance a run-in with Tae or his partner (who you’re now uncomfortably familiar with), you’ve done everything you can: browsed every social media site you can think of, caught up on all the new episodes of TV you missed, and heck, you even wrote a hundred words of your essay. Despite all of these distractions, your mind just keeps running itself back to last night. To the sinful fantasy you indulged in that led to one of the best orgasms of your life. Damn it.
Tae is off limits.
That’s a lesson you learned as a hormonal teen, full of pent-up sexual energy with nowhere to go but to the handsome boy you spent all your time with. Lucky for you, he had been every bit as curious as you. That led to a sticky afternoon in the middle of July when you stared into each other’s eyes, trembling hands clasped together, and slowly, ever so innocently, you both leaned forward. A few kisses over the span of a minute. That was the extent of it. Just dry, awkward mouths moving, trying (failing) to find a rhythm before ultimately giving up.
And it had almost ruined everything. You still remember how, for a solid week following, Taehyung would dodge your calls and create excuses for why he couldn’t hang out. When you finally went over to his house, worried he had caught a bug but also pissed that he wasn’t giving you a straight answer, he couldn’t even make eye contact. You declared the kisses null and void right there. Nothing had ever happened. Nothing would ever happen. It was only from then on that the friendship started to recover.
That is, until now.
Ultimately, no amount of reminiscing can replace food.
There’s no way they heard me last night. She was loud. Way louder. And we have a wall between us. That’s what you tell yourself as you throw the blankets off. Standing in front of your mirror, you sweep your hair back into a ponytail, drag on a hoodie over your sleep-shorts. You’ll just eat in your room. In and out in less than five minutes. You can handle that.
Turning the knob, you ease the door open. Everything’s all clear as you tiptoe out of the room. The door to Taehyung’s room is still firmly shut to your relief. Only his shoes and yours are in the entryway, so the girl must have left already. You slink around the counter, deciding on the simple breakfast of cereal. You’ve just gotten the milk from the fridge, turning around just in time to see the door open.
For a second, you consider just ducking down and hiding like the adult you are.
His voice is gravely, still steeped in sleep. His hair is adorably ruffled as he combs his fingers through the strands, making it worse. His pajama bottoms hang off his hips, the absence of a top all the more obvious when he stretches, toned muscles shifting. “You’re home?”
Your first reaction is to blush. Your second is to realize how fucking good you think he looks when all he’s done is exit a goddamn room. “Uh, yeah.” Hurriedly grabbing a nearby bowl, you stare down into it as if it could transport you somewhere, anywhere, else.
Casually, he steps behind you, brushing past your arm on his quest for his mug. “What happened to the cabin? Thought you were gonna have fun for the both of us.”
It sounds like you were having enough fun. “Ugh. Thesis meeting I forgot about, so I couldn’t go.”
“Ahh, that sucks.” You cast a glance at him and he’s suddenly close, lean and tall and sexy. More attractive than anyone has the right to be when gulping water. Then his intense eyes flash to meet yours. “Wait.” You freeze. “So, you were here last night?”
“Uhhh. Yeah.” The cereal plinks against the ceramic.
“Oh.” You don’t miss the verbal shrug of the shoulders, done so casually when you’re an utter mess just a few feet away. “Sorry if it was loud.”
Milk. Spoon. “Don’t worry about it. No problem.” A tight-lipped grin is all you can offer him before you speed-walk into your room, your cheeks still burning. At least he didn’t hear. That’s all you keep telling yourself, but you can’t get his naked torso out of your mind. Nor can you deny the longing twinge between your legs when you think of how the walls shook in time with his thrusts.
Just what has come over you?
“It sounds a helluva lot like you’ve got a crush on him.” Ah, yes. This is the expert opinion of your close friend Lina, to whom you’ve just spilled everything to over iced caramel macchiatos on a sweltering Saturday afternoon, the week following. “At the very least, you want him to fuck your brains out.”
“Lina!” You hiss, worried that her voice is travelling just a bit too far.
“What? Just look at you. I haven’t seen you this red since first year, when Min Yoongi accidentally kissed you on the cheek.” She giggles, enjoying the mortification on your face. “Ahh, you were so cute then. All innocent.”
“He… But… It’s Tae!”
“So?” Lina takes a long drag from her straw. “He’s hot.”
“Hot or not, these feelings are going to screw everything up.” You haven’t been able to shake them in the slightest. In fact, you’re pretty sure they’re getting stronger. Now you’re the one avoiding him, spending all your time in cafes or study rooms after one accidental post-shower run in on Tuesday that left you too horny for your own good. “Either way, he just sees me as his sister or something.”
Lina waggles her eyebrows. “You’re a mind reader now?”
“Ha. Ha. No. There was the whole thing in high school.” You busy yourself with tearing a tissue into little pieces.
“That was ages ago. And by the sounds of it, it was just you both being awkward and teenagers.”
“Well, what about last Saturday morning? He didn’t even look phased that I overheard them. It clearly doesn’t mean anything to him, and I’m the only one all flustered like an idiot.”
Heaving a sigh, Lina raises two perfectly-manicured nails. “Look. We’re going in circles here. The way I see it, you have two options. One. You get over him. Two. You get under him.”
“Or I could do nothing and just hope this goes away on its own. I believe in miracles.”
Lina spares you a half-amused look. “Obviously, that’s not working. At this point, your friendship is already over if you can’t even be in the same room together. So, why not test it out? See if he’s interested?”
“You… You have a point.” You swallow another mouthful of coffee, feeling insane that you’re even considering this. “Ugggh. What would I even do?”
She taps the phone lying on the table. “You already know what he’s into.” She grins, the devil in her coming out to play. “Show him what he’s missing.”
“Hey, I’ve got it set up already!”
It’s Friday night. Two weeks after the party, and your schedule has finally aligned with Taehyung’s. You’re standing in front of your mirror, nervously toying with the hem of your oversized t-shirt, under which you’re wearing… nothing. Just a pair of panties, one of your nicer ones. You stare at your face, noting how your cheeks are suspiciously pink and you can’t seem to stop fidgeting. Calm down, you think. Breathe.
This is Lina’s genius plan, and you have to admit, it’s the right amount of subtle for what you’re trying to accomplish. Which is… You’re not quite sure yet. But any sort of answer is better than this limbo you’ve fallen into. You can’t believe you’ve endured fourteen long days of this persistent weirdness, this schoolgirl crush. So, you steel your nerves and slip your game face on.
When Taehyung hears your door open, he shouts, “what took you so long? Scared I’m going to beat you?” Hearing your footsteps, he turns towards you with a controller in hand, huge shit-eating grin on his face. It’s then he catches the flash of your legs, exposing more skin than you’ve ever done before when your shirt slightly flutters up from the movement. He freezes, an error code personified as his lips falter. He tries to form words but can’t quite find them, so he just swivels his head back to the TV. Evidently, the Smash Bros menu has become the most fascinating thing in the world. “I bought chips,” he mumbles.
There’s a certain satisfaction to the way his eyes bug out. “Thanks.” You pluck the second controller from his hands, strolling to the other side of the couch before you settle down half-horizontally. You tuck your legs in to the side, in a position that isn’t as comfortable as it is alluring. But unfortunately for you, it seems like the shock of surprise has worn off, as Taehyung starts to choose his character instead of reacting.
“Hey, are you trying to go easy on me?” You challenge as you watch him pick Kirby.
“I only need one pink fluff ball to kick your butt.”
You sneer at him. “You have no idea what my butt is capable of.” You lock in Villager. “I’m about to drop all the trees on you, just you watch.” The spark of competition has burst into a full-fledged fire. “I’ve beat Jungkook before, and you’re not as good as him.” Taehyung responds by sticking his tongue out.
As the match starts, as he starts off by flying away with puffy-cheeks (a look which he mimics in real life, of course) you forget that this is all supposed to be a test or something ridiculous like that because it’s been so long since you’ve felt this comfortable with him. He bursts into laughter, full-bellied, teeth-bared laughter, at your attempts to plant and water the sprout he keeps knocking you away from; your heart sings from having missed the sound.
The matches go on, your legs shifting as you press furiously on the buttons, too consumed with winning to remember that you’re not wearing any pants right now. But Taehyung doesn’t forget. If you had been paying attention, perhaps you wouldn’t have missed how his gaze keeps flickering your way, how he tries his best to focus but his throat is dry with a thirst that the water in his cup can’t seem to quench.
All you know is that he drops his guard and you finally knock him off the platform. “Yesss! I win!” You pump your fists into the air, letting the controller fall to your lap. When it smacks against bare skin, you realize just how much the top has ridden up. Instantly, you try to gauge Taehyung’s reaction but he’s playing it cool, grabbing a fistful of chips before stuffing them into his mouth.
And to add insult to injury, his open-mouthed crunching of the snack is adorably attractive. Even when he’s getting crumbs everywhere.
“Okay, me, five wins, you, one.” He grins. “Ready to get back to your losing streak?”
You readjust your grip on your controller. “Hell no.”
It’s a few hours and several different games later that you finally surrender, like usual. Taehyung reacts accordingly, with noisy whoops and the glee of not having to do dishes for the next few days. You roll your eyes, but you don’t actually mind washing them, and, well, it’s worth it to see the pure glee it brings to Taehyung when he wins. You say your goodnights, and it isn’t long before you’re all tucked into bed with only the glow of your phone keeping you company.
[11:47pm] you: it didnt work. he got shocked but got over it in like 5 secs
[11:48pm] leens: damn. rly? worked for me, lol. ok onto plan b then
[11:48pm] you: do i have to… seems like a dead end
[11:49pm] leens: u still want his dick?
[11:49pm] leens: thought so. u know im right.
You do know, as much as you hate to admit it. Heaving a sigh, you send her a sticker before rolling over to plug your phone in for the night. You can worry about schemes tomorrow. For now, you indulge in the blissful ignorance of sleep.
For as long as you’ve been roommates (three years this coming September), Sunday has always been laundry day. In the interests of saving water, you decided a while back that it was more efficient to wash your shirts and such together. You skipped the last two weeks as part of the whole ‘avoiding Tae’ thing, but even you, with the massive mountain of clothes, have to run out of wearable tops sometime. Currently, the machines tucked away in the tiny room adjacent the kitchen are working as hard as you on the couch, tapping away on your laptop.
“Essay?” Taehyung interrupts your rhythm as he strolls out, stuffing his phone into his shoulder bag.
“Yup.” You look up and are assaulted by the vision of him in a patterned button-up top, casually half-tucked into dark jeans that make his legs look miles long. “You’re heading out?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a thing. How do I look?” He spreads his arms and grins. Your heart betrays you with the quiet ache.
“Really good.” You rest your fingers on the top of your laptop. “I’ll get the clothes when they’re done then.”
He shuffles closer and you realize what he’s going for. so you stick out your cheek for him to drop a kiss. “Thanks, you’re the best.”
“I know. Now, shoo. I’m working. Have fun at whatever you’re doing.”
Taehyung flashes you a peace sign. “See ya.”
Fifteen minutes after he leaves, the machine buzzes. You heed its call, thinking that this all worked out nicely, as you were going to offer to do it anyways. As you grab the clothes from the dryer, you sort them into the proper hamper. Well, most of them. When you come across your favorite pair of panties, a number done in delicate cream-white lace, you drop them right into Tae’s basket before piling a few of his shirts on top.
Some might say it’s an accident. Others a prank.
To you, it’s plan B.
After you return the hamper to Taehyung’s room, the only thing you can do is wait. It’s several hours later, closer to eight, that you hear him return. “I’m home!” He calls out, the noise easily filtering through your half-open door.
“Thanks for getting my clothes.”
As he walks into his room, shuts his door, you try to refocus. But the literary critic on your screen has become even more tedious than before as you imagine him rifling through his clothes to fold. He’s usually decent about doing his chores in a timely manner, so there’s no reason that should be any different now, right?
Apparently, this time is an exception.
With each hour that passes (of which it’s now been two), your mind becomes increasingly agitated, swirling with overactive thoughts of impossible scenarios. You’ve moved from the desk to the bed, lying on your back with legs spread. Truth is, you haven’t felt this nervous since the time you asked your crush out in high school. That day, Taehyung had been hiding behind a wall as you spilled your feelings, and he was the one to take you out for ice cream when you were rejected. When the entire process repeated itself a year later, Taehyung had been there too.
He’s the thread that runs through your memories, your life. Irreplaceable. He’s the one that’s always supported you, regardless of what shitty decisions you made or failures that life threw your way. And you went and fucked that all up by being attracted to him. And you’re in the process of making it worse. But it’s not like you can run over and snatch the panties out of his hands.
Maybe you could play it off. Maybe you could just tell him that you think something fell in with his clothes by pure mistake, and could you please take a quick look inside the basket? You’re solidifying a plan in your head when you hear the knock.
You sit up. Your back is straighter than it has ever been. “Come in.”
“Hey.” The door is nudged open. When you meet Taehyung’s eyes, you try to read his expression but it’s infuriatingly neutral.
“Well, you definitely don’t have a future working at a laundromat.” He grins. “You mixed in your stuff with mine.”
“Oh, really?” Your voice comes out squeaky.
You do, receiving the panties that he tosses like an underhanded baseball. You’re so distracted, you don’t even notice that they’re slightly warmer than they should be.
He’s already pulling back to leave, but he takes a second, a pause. “That makes me, what, the 30th guy to see your underwear now?”
“Tae!” You groan. “Get out!”
He complies with a burst of laughter, shutting the door behind him. You collapse back onto your bed, face burning. Apparently, ever since you overheard him that night, that fine line between you has disappeared. The wall guarding the world of things-that-can’t-be-talked-about has now been knocked down. Has he always been paying attention to the men in your life?
You suppose it is progress, in a way. But not in the way you wanted. And there are no indications that it’ll ever go that way. You toss the underwear aside and go for your phone.
[10:38pm] you: hes not interested. i just gotta get over it.
[10:38pm] leens: wait, what?
You see that she’s typing but you’re not in the mood to discuss. You close the app, lock your screen, and for some reason, shut your entire damn phone off. You don’t want to think about Kim Taehyung anymore. At least, not for tonight.
Another week of classes come and go, but this time, you have something to look forward to at the end. It’s Friday night, and Jungkook and his frat are throwing a party at their house. You and Taehyung wouldn’t miss it for anything, especially not when you could really use a drink. Or three.
Thankfully, Taehyung hasn’t brought up anything out of the ordinary since Sunday, and it’s made you think that maybe, just maybe, things could really go back to normal on their own. You probably just need to find someone else to occupy your time (or at least ‘fuck your brains out’ as Lina so nicely put it). Maybe you’ll even meet him tonight at the party. So, dressing up a little more is probably the way to go.
Now the question is, which dress?
Standing in an alluring set of matching lingerie (just in case, right?), you flip through your closet. “No… Not that one… Not feeling that color…” You mumble to yourself, feeling that familiar conundrum of having absolutely nothing to wear despite having enough clothing to open a store yourself. It’s getting late, stretching into the night hours but nobody shows up to a party in the first few hours anyway. Fashionably late is what you usually aim for.
Then you see it.
One, two, three—OH GOD, eight of them belonging to an enormous, spindly spider that must have emerged from the burning coals of hell to end up in your room, clinging to your closet wall.
“Oh, fuck no!” you bellow as you scramble backwards, bolting out the door into the living room, your heart galloping beneath your skin as you take gasps. You can handle any other insect, literally any of them, except spiders. It was an accident in your childhood that left you traumatized for life, and you can’t say you’re missing out on much. You’re already sweating as you stare at the room you just exited.
“Spider?” Taehyung’s door opens and he walks out in a slim button-up, half tucked into dark shorts, already heading to the kitchen. “I’ll get the jar.” He throws a glance at you and simply stops in his tracks. His smile falters.
“What are you waiting for?!” You ask, voice trembling. Then you follow his gaze down. Oh shit. The lacey bralette that stretches across your chest in ash grey is practically see-through, and your underwear is along the same vein. “Eep.” You race to the couch, fumbling for the blanket before dragging it over your frame.
While you’re distracted, Taehyung closes the distance between your bodies. When you turn around, he’s only a few feet away, trapping you between the sofa arm and him. You gulp. “Really?” His voice is decidedly restrained, stiff. He lets the word sink into the air. “There’s no spider, is there?”
“T-There is! Go look, it’s on the wall in the closet!” You insist, hands gesticulating wildly but he steps forward. He violates your personal space, unfathomable eyes bearing into yours and your words are ripped from your throat, shorn into silence.
“I don’t believe you.” You’re not sure if that was whisper or growl, but it sends goosebumps crawling up your arms as he covers the hands that hold the blanket together with his own. He guides them apart, lets the soft shield fall with a gentle thump to expose you to his hungry gaze. “I don’t believe you at all.”
Your heart jackhammers in your chest, too obvious in your eardrums when his fingertips skate across your shoulder. A flame simmers wherever he strokes, torturously slow: past your collarbone, just over the swell of your breast, drawing lower, lower… “Tae,” you exhale when he dips between your chest, just grazing past the edge of fragile lace. His eyes seem mesmerized by the promise of what lies beyond.
“You seem to think I have more self-control than I do.” His nails scrape past the side of the lingerie, as if considering whether or not to rip it clean off. “Teasing me like this not once, not twice, but…”
He noticed? He noticed! But your brain is torn between rationality and desire, an impasse that results in broken stutters of, “that, was, um, I…”
One broad hand grips your waist, the other your cheek. When he leans in, his breath tickles your skin, closer than he’s ever been. The liminal space between friend and lover has never been so tenuous, suspended only by inches of space and scraps of fabric. “So,” he murmurs, “you don’t want me to kiss you right now?”
You know what you want.
You just wish you didn’t.
Before you can think better of it, you wrap your arms around him and press your mouth to his. He tastes like lip balm and strawberries and you’re already an addict, breaking the kiss only to breathe for a second before you’re seeking him out again. He moves to your rhythm, returning every kiss you lavish and more. Your fingers card through his chocolate hair to keep him intimate.
It isn’t long before he palms your ass, hoists you up. Your legs hook around him as if you’ve done this a hundred times, as if electricity isn’t thrumming through your veins at the sheer anticipation. Kicking open the door to his single-lamp-lit room, he makes straight for the bed. You’re soon tumbling onto the sheets that drown you in his scent. His body is heavy atop you, but you crave the weight as reassurance.
You’re already working on the buttons of his shirt, the need to feel his bare skin on yours overriding all else. He chuckles at your impatience but soon his mouth is sucking a trail down your neck with his own yearning. You want him to mark you, want proof that this consumption and wildness resides in his heart too. Yours is obvious by the way your panties cling to the wetness of your cunt.
“Beautiful,” you think you hear him whisper as he urges your bra up, scrunching the fabric so he can lap at your nipple with the tip of his tongue.
“You’ve always been.” Somehow that’s the thing that makes you flush most, the unrefined honesty that you never imagined could be directed at you. But there’s no mistaking the reverence in how he traces the swell of your breast, memorizing the feel of your softness against him.
Taehyung groans when your hands skim down his stomach, to the bulge hidden behind a final button and zipper that you practically rip in your haste. You free his cock to the air, palming the sizeable girth for the first time. It’s so smooth, subtly curved to the right, tanned and darker than the rest of his skin. You cinch your fingers, let pressure coax another sweet moan. Unfettered by the walls, his noises make you jealous of everyone who’s had the privilege of hearing them before you.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you probably recognize this is probably all too fast but you can’t help yourself, especially not when every kiss he plants on your skin seems to drench you.
“Can you lift your leg for me?”
You’re happy to comply, giving him the access he needs to slide his hand inside the lace. It’s a snug fit, as if he’s always belonged here, the fabric yielding to the shape of his knuckles. When his fingers brush past your clit, a whimper slips from your mouth. It’s obvious that he’s toying with you when he circles, avoiding where you desire him most. Typical Taehyung. It only makes you like him more.
It’s when he teases your slit, allowing only his fingertip to slide into your cunt that your desire spikes sharply upward. “Tae…” It comes out as a whine, delicious to his ears.
“Do you want me?”
You groan when he pulls his hand from your heat, awaiting answer. “Taehyung, touch me…”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Yes, god, I want you. Of course, I want you, Tae.” The choppy words are said in bewilderment, for you can’t even fathom why he would think otherwise. Always. You always want him – by your side, in your life, in your heart. The only constant in your universe.
He interrupts your thoughts by plunging two fingers into your cunt as his eyes hold yours. He curls mercilessly, finding and pleasing your sweet spot guided only by your jolts of pleasure. He settles for a pace that is punishing. Orgasm rises with each stroke while you arch off the bed, toes curling.
“Ahh, that’s good,” you moan, grinding yourself into him without a single thought of propriety or reserve. You’re so close, his fingers magic as they spur you on. You thank him by moving your own wrist with vigor, focusing around the ridge that seems to be where he’s the most sensitive.
“Yeah… Fuck.” He gasps, chest rising, falling as he ruts his hips into your palm. Your cunt feels delectably tight around him; as much as he wants to know what it feels like wrapped around his shaft, there’s no way he’s going to stop when you’re clinging to him like he’s air itself. Your hand slides faster the closer you get, dragging him to the peak just seconds behind you despite wanting this to last.
But with your sharp cry and his low groan, it’s over far too soon. ‘T-Taehyung!”
He never stood a chance at the sight of you twisting beneath him, speared on his fingers with eyes half-lidded – lost in the moment and lost in him. His hot cum spills onto your hand while you unapologetically flood his. Like lovers.
And for a long minute, all you can do is squeeze your legs together to savor the aftershocks that roll through you in waves. He’s still trying to gather his thoughts, trying to calm the racing heart that rivals yours. You somehow feel too shy to meet his eyes, now that the haze of lust has cooled.
It feels like a small eternity before he reaches for the tissue box, so he can gently clean your fingers. “That was…” He trails off, licking his lip as if to fill the space his words can’t.
The silence that settles in feels suffocating, too much to bear as the clock ticks by. You feel the urge to say something, anything, and your mouth is opening before you can think it through. “…Not as good as Hoseok, but pretty fun.” It was meant to come out as lighthearted ribbing, like your usual banter, but the second it hits the air you wish you could take it back. Fuck. What a dumb thing to say.
You don’t notice how his expression dwindles, wanes so quietly that you’re the only one in the world who would have noticed if you hadn’t been so busy averting your gaze.
A second later, his mask has been repainted. “Uh huh. Sure.” He swings his gaze to the ceiling before leaning back, sinking into his pillow. His bangs are scattered across his brow, eyes sliding shut.
Relief bids you to take his nonchalance at face value, shifting after a beat to join him. You bury your face into his warm chest, breathe in the familiar scent of Tae. Your Tae. “Gonna sleep here tonight,” you mumble, already drowsy from the comfort of the blanket he draws over you and the way he breathes. “Okay?”
Like always, his arms cradle you so close. But this time, you feel a ghost of a kiss on the top of your head. “Okay.”
When consciousness ambles its way back to you in the morning, the first sensation you become aware of is warmth. The bright summer sun peeps through the open blinds, falling across your face as you scrunch your face together in reaction. “Lights off…” You mumble as you turn over, taking a deep breath. That’s when the scent hits you. Not yours. Tae. Tae!
Last night hits you like a flood, nervous excitement spreading through your veins at what awaits you when you open your eyes. Questions blow through your mind, one after another, with answers that aren’t so easily found. How is he feeling? How does he feel about you? Was it all just lust? What are you now? Friends with benefits? Is that what you want? Or something more? Is that even possible? All the question marks are going to drive you nuts, and this could all be solved if you just asked him. You’ve never been patient, and that overrides the nerves.
You force yourself to blink and your vision to focus.
All you can see are wrinkled bedsheets and a pillow, abandoned. He’s gone.
“Tae?” Your voice feels jarring for this soft Saturday. The silence left in its wake is just as imposing. You throw the blankets off, thinking you’ll find him in the kitchen, ruining a pan and breakfast. But there’s no smell of burning eggs, no crackle of overheated oil. No sheepish, apologetic grin that always makes you forgive him.
“Tae, where are you?”
The laundry room is just as empty as everything else. You even push open the door to your own room a few inches. It’s when you pad to the bathroom that you notice the single toothbrush in the cup, where once was two. What the—
You rush back into Taehyung’s room, noticing for the first time that his desk is bare, laptop gone. There’s no backpack leaning against a wooden leg. You drag open the closet door, and his duffel has disappeared too. Newly emptied hangers are loose on the bar, slightly swaying from the force of your opening.
Your heart is stuttering, fingers shaking as you escape to your own room, cradling your phone like a lifeline.
[9:29am] you: tae, where are u?
You can’t tear your eyes from the screen, watching as the read receipt comes on. But a full minute ticks by without a response. He must be typing something long. He must be saying he’s just out to grab some groceries and he’ll be back soon. He—
[9:31am] taetae: sorry
[9:31am] taetae: i’m gonna stay somewhere else for a few days
[9:31am] you: what? why??
No matter what you send him after that, he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even bother to read the messages you send him, so eventually you give up. You jam your phone onto the charger, telling yourself again and again that you don’t need to check it obsessively because nothing will have changed. This is Tae. He would never leave things like this, swinging in limbo. You’ve always come back to each other, no matter what. He’ll come back.
“I’m home…” You mutter the habitual words to a dark living room as you hook your keys up on the rack, beside a stake that remains bare still. You stopped checking for his keychain a few days ago, the two-week mark of Taehyung’s leaving. Kicking off your shoes, your phone vibrates as you shuffle to your room. Lina. Right. She’s been checking in on you, making sure you’re not falling into a spiral.
“Hey girl, how are you?”
“Surviving.” You just handed in your first paper of the term two days ago, Friday, and are already working on the next. The summer semester is ruthless in its pace, and you’re doing all you can to keep on top of things. You’re heading into your final year of undergrad, and with all the grad school applications coming up soon… you need your GPA to be at its highest. You don’t have time to worry about extraneous things. But you could never consider Tae extraneous.
“Still not here.” You pull open the fridge, begin to put away the groceries that you’ve bought: the one tray of eggs, the smaller carton of milk. “It’s fine. Really. He’s not playing his music all the time, so I can actually concentrate.” Your laugh is shaky. “I bet Jin is sick of him by now.”
“Why don’t you go see him?”
“Please. If he wanted to see me, he’d come home.”
“You never know. He might be feeling the same way as you!”
You plop onto the sofa. You’ve barely used it in the past few weeks, and it feels so empty without Taehyung’s weight next to you, binging movies or blasting aliens. “I don’t even know how I’m feeling. I’m awful at this stuff.” Lina knows that too well, having witnessed many awkward dissolutions of casual relationships because you just didn’t like your partner enough to make things serious. Hoseok had been the closest, but then graduation tore you apart before you could decide one way or the other.
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” Lina says with a snort.
“Well, care to enlighten me too?”
“It’s really something you have to realize on your own.”
You roll your eyes. Things can never be easy for you, can they?
“Well. What I do know is that I miss him more than anything.”
Lina is right. You want to see him. You want any sort of sign, an answer, or anything at all. Hell, if he’s going to never talk to you again, you at least want to say goodbye.
Jumping to your feet, you grab your purse and keys. “I’m going to Jin’s.”
Lina laughs, enjoying the conviction in your voice. “Go get ‘em.”
That’s how you find yourself in front of Jin’s door thirty minutes later, still running on adrenaline and emotion. It’s a nice apartment in the ‘village’ close to the university central, a perfect place for a grad student. Its price deterred most undergrads from living here, so it was relatively quiet and secure. You and Taehyung had considered renting here too, but could only afford a one-bedroom and he’d said it would be better to get separate rooms. Maybe if you were living here, all of this never would have happened.
Now isn’t the time for hesitation. You raise a hand and knock three times, the throb of your heart intensifying each time hand meets wood. There’s some shuffling from inside, then the unlocking of a door. When it opens, Jin is standing in casual lounge pants and a loose top, his hair somehow casually impeccable despite the drowsiness in his eyes. He’s taken this Sunday to just relax, it seems.
He presses his full lips together. “Hi.” There’s something a lot like pity in his eyes and you hate that.
“Uhh, can I… Is he…”
“No, he’s not here.” He shakes his head.
“Oh.” That was definitely a possibility, though one you’d thought would work out in your favor like all those cheesy romances you sometimes liked to binge. “Okay. Sorry. I’ll get going now.”
“Sorry.” With that, the door shuts. Your footsteps fade as Jin turns towards his unexpected new roommate, standing in the shadows of the dimly-lit apartment. “Taehyung. You can’t keep avoiding her forever. I’m not ready to be a landlord, but I will charge you rent.”
Taehyung’s face is sober. He stares at his hands, the ones that still recall the heat of your skin, soft and precious beneath him. “I know.”
Despite going to bed early that night, Monday’s 8am alarm hits you mercilessly. You roll over on your pile of pillows, back aching, wanting nothing more than to just go back to sleep. But you have class in an hour, and skipping class is usually something you would never even consider. Especially not when it’s from exhaustion, caused by a night of your silly overthinking.
Still, no matter how you try, you can’t seem to drag your limbs from the blankets. You hug one pillow in particular in your arms, breathing in the scent. You stole it from Taehyung’s room, because he’s certainly not using it right now. You just… You wanted something to connect to him. Okay, you finally conclude, I’ll… Just call it a sick day. You’ve fallen back into your dreams before the minute is even up.
It’s a clattering that wakes you an hour later. Wiping sleep from your eyes, your first thought is that you’re being burgled. Your second is that it’s probably Taehyung. He knows you usually have class at this time, so he must be trying to avoid you. Just the thought makes you grit your teeth. This isn’t high school again. If he has something to say, then he should just say it to your face. You deserve at least that much.
You take a swig from the cup of water at your bedside and get to your feet. You crack your door open and the rattling intensifies, definitely coming from his room. Perfect opportunity. The haze of sleep is being shoved aside to make way for hurt and annoyance. It’s probably a bad idea, but you let the emotions take the reins as you cross the hardwood, let your feet slap noisily on the floor.
“Tae.” You hate how weak your voice sounds when what you want is anger. “You’re back.”
Taehyung turns, and you’re startled at how gaunt he looks, as if he has been having sleepless nights of his own. “Just… Just to get a few things.” His duffel is already packed and ready to go. He swings it over his shoulder, walks towards you. He expects you to step aside. You don’t.
“Please tell me why.”
“I-I can’t.” He tries again, but you stand firmly in place.
“Tae, what is going on?” Your shoulders are folding in on themselves under the impassiveness of his stare. “Why won’t you talk to me? I thought… I thought after that night that things were so good between us. Amazing, in fact. But then you left and I don’t know what I did wrong but I’m sorry.” You take a shuddering breath. “I’m always missing you, Tae. I just want to know why you apparently can’t stand me anymore.”
“You want to know why?” Taehyung’s brows are knit together, furrowed in an irritation you’ve only seen once or twice before. The way your heart gallops tells you that you’re not prepared to hear what he’s going to say, despite asking for it just three seconds ago. “Here’s why.”
The duffel drops to the floor. “Because every time I close my eyes, I picture you beneath me.” Taehyung takes a step towards you. “Every time I hear your voice, I think of the way you moaned my name when you came.” Another step. His warm hands find your waist. Before you know it, you’re pinned against the wall, his breath ghosting across your skin. “And I can’t stop wanting to be inside you, to feel you around me, so tight and wet like you were around my fingers.”
“Then do it.” You swear, you’re drenched from the sheer timbre of his low voice.
“See, that’s the thing.” Taehyung rips away from you, and the air feels too cold without him near. “I can’t.”
“Why not? I want to, you clearly want to. We know it would be fun. We work well together. It wouldn’t be overly complicated. So why the hell not?” Walking towards him, you enter his space once more. When he doesn’t answer, you goad him: “Tae? Why not?”
“Because that’s not all I want to do!”
“I want to hold your hand. I want to take you out on dates. I want to always wake up next to you.” He’s getting visibly frazzled, running his hands through his hair until it’s a mess. “I want to be yours. I want to call you mine. Fuck buddies, friends with benefits, shit like that, that’s not enough for me.” He steps back, as if afraid to be near you. “I’m in love with you, damn it. And that’s why I have to leave.”
In this moment, you can see it. You can see it all – the coffee and dinner dates, the sweet kisses, the whispered pillow talk, falling asleep in each others’ arms, sleepy Tae in the morning. And for the first time, you’re not scared. The usual fear that punches through your gut, sets off alarms to make you to run as fast as you can, is utterly absent. Instead, there’s only an anticipation, an excitement that tells you this is what you want too.
You reach for him and you smash your mouth onto his.
Taken by surprise, Taehyung stumbles onto the bed and you fall with him, clinging to his shoulders. You’ve never been this starved for anyone and it’s not even because you’re letting thirst dictate your thoughts. You feel him get over his shock, tightening his arms around your waist. You wish he’d never let go.
“Does this mean…”
“Tae, I think… I think I might be in love with you too,” you mumble, drunk on this cocktail of emotion, bliss, and him. So this. This is what it feels like. And you were too dense to realize how you felt this entire time. Nibbling on his bottom lip, you feel his hands travel to cup your ass through your thin shorts.
“You think?” He chuckles in mocking exasperation, squeezing his eyes shut. “You have to drive me crazy until the end, don’t you?”
“Give me a break… I’ve never done this before.” An obvious bulge is pressing against your thigh, and you swivel your hips to grind against it. His groan is tender, urgent. “Plus, you like it.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
He flips you over, hands running eagerly under the rim of your shorts. When he feels the lace beneath, he practically rips the outer layer off so he can feast his eyes on how the fabric hugs your skin. He traces the dark patterns with his fingertips, unable to resist from touching you. With the morning rays bathing the room in light, there’s no mistaking the hunger in his expression, the longing for you that you can’t believe you never saw until now. It actually makes you shy.
“D-Do you like underwear that much?”
Taehyung pauses. “Wha? How did you know?” He’s made his way over your clit, each brush of his thumb coaxing electric pleasure that makes you arch into him.
“It was a total accident, I swear. But I saw your texts to Namjoon.”
“… Silly.” Lowering his mouth, he eases the fabric covering your crotch aside. “It’s all because of you.”
You can hardly think when his tongue meets your bud, lapping so eagerly. “Me?” You manage to gasp just as a ripple robs you of other thoughts. Taehyung is clearly talented with his mouth, making you practically gush with uncontrollable arousal.
“’s not a coincidence that I prefer this type. You were never good at covering up to begin with. Especially in your mini skirts.” He’s sucking now, noisily sliding his tongue into your cunt, just shallow enough to make you want more. “You teased the hell out of me the summer we graduated high school, and it only got worse from there when we moved in together. Had to hold myself back when all I wanted to do was tear them off you.”
You’re trying to think of when you ever did that, but Taehyung forces your attention back to him when he slides a finger inside. “So many nights I dreamed about seeing your cunt like this, all creamy and pink. Pretty and eager for me.” He curls against your sweet spot like he did before, your breath hitching in response.
“Now I know how sweet you taste, baby.” He wets his lips before he’s diving back in, tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you to the brink in seconds. The lewd noises harmonize with your moans, half of which are just broken utterings of his name. “Come for me, or I won’t give you my cock.”
You don’t need the threat because you’re already unravelling around him. Your hips buck as you grind yourself on his fingers, the erratic pulsing of your walls only making you want something bigger inside you. He just keeps licking you through it, extending your climax until you’re whimpering from the slight overstimulation.
“Please, fill me,” you gasp, tugging him up, tasting yourself on his lips as you feel him drop his shirt, then his pants.
Your panties are still on, but neither of you have the patience to take the few seconds to take them off. The head of his cock is leaking with pre-cum, pushed against your dripping slit. You’re so wet, one thrust takes him several inches deep as he groans from the sensation. “Fuck, that’s tight.” His hands rest on your thighs, holding you open for him as he continues to sink himself in.
You’re sucking him in, wanting him deeper with each stroke until his pelvic bone is pressed against your aching clit. You whine when he pulls almost all the way out only to pump his way back in again, forcing you to feel how he stretches you to his shape. You rake your nails down his back, uncontrollable and insatiable. Skin slaps on skin, joining the noises spilling from your mouths.
“Want you even deeper, Tae. Please.”
You yelp as he complies with a grin, hoisting your thighs up, your ankles finding a new place beside your head. “Such a good girl, so hungry for me.” He bears down, towering over you as he pounds his cock inside your quivering cunt. You’re vaguely aware that you’re going to be sore after but even that thought excites you. It’s just another reminder of him. Not that you could ever forget this.
“Touch yourself. Make yourself cum all over me, baby,” Taehyung gasps, sweat rolling off his skin as he pounds you deeper into the mattress. In the daylight, you’re even more gorgeous than you know, hair splayed on your pillow like a storm that has swept him away in its wake. He could probably come just from the image of you reaching into the lace to massage your clit. He’ll save it in his memory for later use.
Taehyung has clearly found the rhythm that is your undoing and he uses it relentlessly. He’s not going to last long either, judging by the look on his face; it’s possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. That lip bite has never been so devastating, and you’re not sure you can ever see it again without thinking of this.
“Fuck, fuck!” As much as you want to keep watching him, pleasure bowls you over and you’re throwing your head back into his pillow. He fucks you through the climax and joins you with his own, spilling cum and filling you just like you wanted. He keeps going even as he softens inside your heat, giving a few more thrusts before his hips slow, decelerate until he’s just resting against you as he pants.
Your legs tremble from the strain as you bring them down, make room so you can pull Taehyung up because you need to kiss him. He seems to feel the same urgency as his arms come around you, his tongue tracing the curve of your lips that he’s been memorizing for over a decade.
When your heart finally stops palpitating, Taehyung rolls off you, collapsing beside you with a fat, boxy grin on his lips. He looks down at you through sleepy eyes, savoring the moment like a sweet dessert before mischief reappears in his eyes. “So… You saw those texts. Is that why you were flashing me your panties left and right? To try and seduce me?”
“… Nobody said it was a good plan!”
He arches a dark eyebrow. “You just wanted me that badly.”
“Shut up.” But you kiss him before you settle on his chest, because he’s right and you both know it. You relax for all of five seconds before another thought pops into your head. “Tae, can you tell me what happened in high school? Why did you spook after we kissed?”
“Uhh, right. Actually...” He scratches his hair, feeling a bit sheepish. “I got scared. I-I think that’s when I realized how much I liked you and I wasn’t ready for anything like that. You know, a ‘relationship’.” He makes air quotes around the word. “And I thought you only wanted to experiment with me because I was convenient.”
You snuggle even deeper into his hug while you trace absent circles on his little pouch of tummy. “I’m sorry.” A sigh. “You’re right though, I wouldn’t have been ready either. Heck, I didn’t think I was ready twenty minutes ago.”
You plant kisses on his nose, his squishy cheek. “Now, to be honest, I can’t think of anything I want more.”
“Me either.” He gives you an affectionate squeeze before his fingers trail idly to the dark lace of your underwear. “By the way, can I keep these?”
“What?” He says innocently as he toys with the waistband, pulling it out only to let it snap back into place. “They’re my new favorite.”
Congratulations – you’ve made it through another summer semester! With only two weeks of break left before the winter term starts (an absolute travesty, really), you decide to fly home for a brief visit. First stop: to see the folks. In the backseat of the taxi, Taehyung clasps your hand in his. “Nervous?” He says, lips stretching in a grin.
“Yeah, and it’s all your fault,” you groan, playfully giving his shoulder a shove.
“Damn right.” He laces your fingers together before bringing the back of your hand up to his chest. His heart is racing too.
Outside, the scenery is becoming very familiar as the cab pulls into your old neighbourhood, then to the tall house with the sprawling balcony you used to hang out on for hours. There’s the black fence, with the bent spoke from when Taehyung ran into it trying to win a game of something or other. And there’s his mom, standing with all smiles at the front of the house.
Taehyung pays the cab driver while you lug your suitcases from the trunk. Neither of you have broken the good news to anyone from back home, and you’re not quite sure how you should be behaving when Tae grabs your hand. He holds it confidently as you drag your luggage behind you, up the driveway.
“Hello!” His mom is beaming, sunshine literally radiating off her as she eyes your clasped hands, but says nothing. “Come, come, your parents are already inside!”
“Mom.” When you come to a stop in front of her, Taehyung switches to an arm around your shoulders, so he can fondly pull you in. “Let me introduce you to my girlfriend.”
Her bottom lip wobbles for a second, as if she’s going to cry. “Well it’s about time!” She bursts into delighted laughter as she beckons you inside. “Finally!”
You step over the threshold. “Finally? This was expected?” You shoot Tae a look of amusement and find him red around the cheeks, awkwardly chuckling with a hand over his mouth.
“Oh, our little Tae used to say he would marry you all the time.” She leads you through the hallways you’ve long memorized. “Used to run around the house singing it, in fact.”
“Oh, really?” The smile you give him now is teasing, enjoying the blush that spreads around his face.
When he’s sure his mom is otherwise distracted, he presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “Yeah… Really.”
When you turn the corner, your parents are already on their feet. They take one glance at the way you and Taehyung are standing, fondly intimate, and trade knowing glances with each other. “This will be your official welcome to our family, Taehyung,” your dad says with a smile.
“And yours to ours, dear.” Taehyung’s mom walks past you to stand with her husband, leaning her head on his shoulder.
As you look from face to face, feel the affection that radiates from them, your nerves can’t help but melt into joy. It almost overwhelms you that this is your reality, that this bliss has the possibility to last a lifetime. It’s then that Taehyung squeezes your hand, three times as if to say I love you. You squeeze him back, because god knows you love him. Then, with you in the lead, you walk towards your family, their arms already outstretched for hugs. There’s no hesitation left.