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Hyunjin sits on one of the loveseats mashed against the wall, fabric threadbare and itchy against the back of her thighs. The material of her short flowy tennis skirt ripples every time she crosses and uncrosses her legs.
“Hey, babe,” Chan pops up on her left, giving her one of his beautiful smiles. “I got you another drink.” She wants to dig her hands into the meat of his cheeks, or bite all over his neck. The endearment makes her smile. She wonders what he’d think, if he knew how much she liked it.
“Thank you, Channie,” she tilts the cup to her lips, taking a small sip.
“C’mon,” he snorts, settling on the couch next to her. He spreads his legs apart as she folds hers together to give him more space. “Not even an oppa?”
“When have I ever called you that?” She ribs him. This familiarity is one she can settle into. The party happening around them fades into the background as Chan leans his head close to her, invading her personal space. His mouth is next to her ear as he prattles on about nonsense, and the disgust Hyunjin feels at being in the frat house is forgotten.
Chan tilts his cup towards her. They cheers and share a drink. The concoction is fruity if a bit tart but doesn’t burn going down. She might have to drink a few more before the night is over, a bit more liquid courage to get through the evening.
“Thanks for coming out with me,” he says softly. Chan settles a warm hand on her knee, thumb rubbing against the skin of her inner thigh. “I know you hate it. But thank you so much.”
“It’s for you,” Hyunjin blurts out. The alcohol is getting to her brain. “I never hate it when it’s you.”
Chan gives her a big smile. His thumb keeps working circles on her knee. Her face feels so hot, she wants to scream. Did he even notice her skirt? Or the new foundation she put on? She chugs the rest of her cup before she says something else she might regret.
“Hey, look at my favorite couple!” shouts an achingly familiar voice. Lee Minho. Hyunjin likes him well enough—but she likes herself more to keep her distance. He’s got that signature smirk on his face, and jeans so tight Hyunjin is sure she can see the outline of his dickprint. No underwear either. Hyunjin gags behind her hand. She wonders how someone like Chan could be friends with someone like Minho.
“We aren’t a couple,” she says, petulant. Hyunjin twiddles with the empty cup in her hands.
Chan lets out a bark of laughter. “You’re always causing trouble, aren’t you Minho-yah?”
“I wouldn’t call it trouble.” His white shirt is delicately buttoned up halfway and partially see-through. He is extremely sexy, in an objective way. Minho’s always been on her periphery. Another one of Chan’s best friends, charming and ethereal and bright. He has this look on his face like he knows what Hyunjin’s thinking of. Minho winks at her, just for show.
Chan scoffs, the grip he has on her knee tightens, fingers digging into her skin. “I’m getting another drink,” he says. “Refills?”
“Sure,” Hyunjin replies. “I’d love one.”
She watches as Chan walks away, jeans hugging his backside. His loose black hoodie drapes over his body, hiding the muscle underneath. For a brief moment she wonders what he’d look like in a skin tight shirt. Wonders what he’d look like if he dressed as provocatively as Minho.
Minho takes the seat next to her that Chan vacated. He places his hand on her knee, though it doesn’t feel the same. His touch is sticky, his fingers are too small. In another life, Hyunjin might have really liked him. Too bad.
“Your skirt looks nice on you,” Minho tugs playfully at the fabric. “It makes your legs look really good.”
“Yeah,” Hyunjin says, bitterly. “I know it does.”
“He hasn’t said anything?”
Hyunjin crosses her arms. She doesn’t like Minho, not really. He’s a bit too observant. But he’s the only person who knows Chan. Not as well as her but just enough to confide in. “No,” she says. “I think I should give up.”
“Hyunjin-ah,” Minho sing-songs, “you like him so much. You should just tell him.”
“I—” She gulps. Her mouth feels too dry. She finally turns to look at Minho, who’s assessing her with a very pointed gaze. “That’s my plan,” she says, “Tonight.”
His fingers dance up her knee, go towards her midthigh. Minho’s always been like that—pushing her boundaries just a little too much. His fingers skate just a bit higher, before she grabs his wrist tightly. “Knock it off, you creep.”
He laughs like he always does. “You just wish my hand was Chan-hyung’s.” He pinches the inside of her thigh but removes his hand off her skin. Minho leans back against the loveseat, head resting on the wall. “So tonight, huh? Is that why you got all pretty? For your oppa?”
Hyunjin makes a face. “You know I don’t call him that.”
“Trust me,” Minho’s smile is all teeth, “we all know you don’t.”
“What are you saying?”
He shrugs. “Just that I know a few things.”
“You better not have ever said anything to Chan! You promised me you wouldn’t.”
“I doubt the things I’d say would gross him out,” Minho says. “So you’ll confess, then?”
Hyunjin bites her bottom lip, the lip gloss transfers onto her teeth. “I’ll… I mean… I’ll try.”
Minho tsks. “You won’t get anywhere with that attitude. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“He rejects me,” she says plainly, “and then I lose my best friend.”
“Well,” Minho says, he tilts his head and she notices Chan working his way back towards them. Minho waits for him to get within hearing range, before he adds: “If it doesn’t work out with that guy you like, you know I’d always take you for a ride.” He winks at her. Hyunjin wants to kill him.
“Minho,” Chan says, holding two drinks in his hands, “knock that shit off! Don’t talk to Hyunjin that way. She isn’t a bag of meat!”
Hyunjin feels her gut clench at Chan’s words. He’s always the first to defend her. Always. It’s sickeningly sweet. It’s why she likes him so much and why she can deal with a little bit of Lee Minho every other day.
Minho laughs, putting his hands up in surrender. “Calm down there, knight. I’m just giving Hyunjinnie a little pep talk.”
“Maybe try talking with that head on your shoulders instead, yeah?” Chan says.
“That was a good one, hyung. Anyway”—Minho looks at both of them—“if you need me, I’m gonna go score that hot babe from the softball team. Don’t wait up.” He bounces away with a skip in his step and a grin on his face. Hyunjin wonders how someone can walk through life like that. Owning everything they touch. It’s equal parts disgusting as it is mesmerizing. She looks after Minho, but he’s already lost in the sea of bodies.
“I’m sorry about him,” Chan sighs, sitting next to her. Their legs press up against each other, jean to skin. “He knows better than to talk to you that way.” Chan’s eyes are intense. He hands her the drink.
“Thank you,” Hyunjin says, “and it’s okay. Minho-oppa is just kind of like that, isn’t he?”
Chan nearly crushes his own drink in his hand. He presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Hyunjin wonders what he’s thinking. It’s always like this when Minho is involved. “Yeah,” he settles on. “He is.”
“But not you though, Channie,” Hyunjin adds, leaning into his space so she doesn’t have to shout. She looks at his face for a moment before reaching out a hand and tentatively petting his right knee, mouth right at his ear. “You’ve always been a nice guy.” She swallows around the words. “The nicest one to me.”
Chan leans back, takes a long sip of his drink. The lip of his cup blocks his face and Hyunjin can’t see his mouth. The moment feels taut as the music fills the space between them.
“Yeah,” he finally says, “I’m a nice guy.” He places his hand on her knee again, squeezing her tightly.
Hyunjin wonders if it’ll bruise. She wishes it would.
***
It would probably make life so much easier if Hyunjin wasn’t so hung up on the only guy who never looks at her. Chan’s always been her rock, her foundation, her sounding board.
But never her man.
Not even after she hit late puberty in high school and her breasts went up two cup sizes in the span of a week. Not even when she started dressing up to hang out with him, wondering if he’d stare. If he’d touch. Not even their first year of college, when Yeji dared her to kiss the hottest guy she knew and she kissed Chan in front of everyone. With tongue.
It was like she was invisible. The thought pisses her off in the same way it makes her sad. Was she not good enough? Was Chan stupid? She’s hated all his previous girlfriends. Lied her way through conversations and dinners, half smiles and faux laughter.
Once they saw the way she looked at him—they hated her too.
Hyunjin always got the last laugh. They could never separate Chan from her. No matter how hard they’d try, he wouldn’t allow them to. They would always leave and Hyunjin would always win.
The thought does send a thrill through her, that Chan chooses their friendship over having a girlfriend. She wishes he’d choose her. She wants him to choose her. She leans against the wall outside the frat house, the cool night breeze cutting through the haze of six rounds of whatever bathtub water concoction she’s been drinking all night. She doesn’t know where she got the cigarette in her hand, but she takes a deep inhale and puffs the smoke out through her mouth. It’s fun. She wishes Chan would pin her against the wall and fuck her in front of all of these people. Whatever he wanted—she wouldn’t say no.
It scares her, sometimes. What she’s willing to give him. What she’d allow him to do.
“Hey lady,” some sleazeball says from Hyunjin’s left. His hair is brown and his face is ugly. He puts his crusty fingers on her bare shoulder. “You looking for a good time?”
“Not with you.” Hyunjin blows smoke in the guy's face. “Get lost.”
“Hey, c’mon, you never know—”
“Dude,” comes Chan’s sharp voice. The man’s hand is off Hyunjin’s skin within the next blink. She throws the rest of the cigarette on the ground, stamps it out with the back of her wedge heel. “Leave her alone. She’s here with me.”
“Alright, Chan,” the guy snickers. “The girl’s taken, I see. I see.” The guy walks off laughing. Hyunjin wonders if she’s missed something.
Chan rolls his eyes, he places his hand on the same spot on her shoulder where the previous man touched her. His palm is big and warm. He should squeeze her. He should do anything. She should stop drinking. “Are you okay, babe?” He asks. She squirms under his watch.
No, I’m not, because you refuse to fuck me. “I’m fine,” is what she says. Hyunjin tugs on the end of her skirt. “There’s a lot of assholes in here don’t you think?”
“It’s a fraternity,” Chan says, shrugging. “You know how it can be.”
“I do.” Hyunjin leans into his touch.
“But they won’t bother you,” he adds softly. “‘Cause you’re with me.”
Hyunjin nods her head. “I am with you.” She curls her arm around Chan’s elbow, holding onto him. Maybe Minho is right. She should say something. No one works as well with her as Chan does. She wouldn’t ever want to try with anyone else.
“Hey, uh,” Chan whispers in her ear as they make their way back inside, “who was that guy Minho was talking to you about earlier? Anyone I know?” His voice sounds raspy.
“You gonna talk to him?” Hyunjin squeezes his arm.
“He has to be good enough for you.” Chan tugs her to the side before they enter, turning her to face him. He’s got a serious look on his face as he bites his bottom lip. “Most of the guys you bring around aren’t really all—”
“Channie,” she cuts him off and smooths out the worried furrow in his brow. “You don’t have to worry about him. I promise.” He’s you, she wants to say. The only one I want is you.
“Y-You know you can trust me, right? With anything. With him. With any guy you like.”
Hyunjin gulps. “I know I can.” She grabs onto his bicep. He’s become so built these days, so strong. “You’re the nicest guy I know.”
“Right,” Chan coughs, “I’m such a nice fuckin’ guy.” He laughs but it sounds hollow to Hyunjin’s ears.
They make it back inside to the middle of the makeshift dance floor, bodies squeezed in tight in the living room and moving rhythmically against the pulsing beat. Hyunjin feels all the liquor she downed earlier flowing through her veins. The drinks are getting to her faster than she thought. Whatever. It’s easier to let loose under pretense. Easier to unwind when her brain uncoils out of its noose.
Chan is at her side, stock still. She sways to the beat, leaning back against him gently. He touches her over the fabric of her shirt, moving with her. They dance, and Hyunjin loses herself to the music. She wants to press back, to grind on him. But Chan stays motionless. He doesn’t even touch her skin. Hyunjin feels like a freak.
“Babe,” Chan says. His breath is hot against her ear. She can feel sweat on her brow. “I’m gonna get another drink. You want something?”
“Sure,” Hyunjin says, “anything.” Anything to make this feel less awkward. Anything that will convince me you want me just as bad.
“Alrighty,” he says, “I know what you like.”
“You do.” Hyunjin snorts. Chan lets go of her body as he moves through the crowd, leaving Hyunjin on the dance floor to her own devices. She starts really swaying to the music, body working with the tempo. This is fun. She closes her eyes. Hyunjin doesn’t have to think of anything but the music and the way her legs move. She doesn’t have to think about Chan. About what she wants, what she can’t have.
There is a cold hand that grabs her hip, and she whips around so fast with her elbow out before she even has time to think.
“Slow down there, killer,” Minho’s voice says. “Baby, it’s just me.”
Hyunjin practically growls at him. “Do not call me that you shithead.”
Minho laughs, turning her around so they’re face to face. He has a metal flask balanced in his fingers, a smirk playing on the corners of his mouth. Minho’s eyes look far more alert than Hyunjin feels.
“So,” Hyunjin says, “did you convince the pitcher on the softball team to sleep with you?”
“Done deal,” Minho laughs. He twists the flask in his hand, the silver of the container catches the scant strobe lighting bouncing off the walls. “You know what I’ve said before: hot babes can’t resist me.”
“I do.” Hyunjin makes a retching sound while looking at him. Minho thinks it’s all just funny.
“Well, baby,” he says, “we know why you do.” He runs his hand up her arms. Hyunjin is caught in a mix between bemused and genuinely disgusted. Minho’s a good friend—for the most part—and he does genuinely give her decent advice when it comes to Chan, but she can’t shake that fucking ick he gives her. No matter how hard she tries.
“Even if I wasn’t in lo—didn’t have feelings for him… I doubt I’d be with you.” She corrects herself mid-sentence, hoping Minho doesn’t catch it.
His eyes tell her a different story, but he seems to let her off easy and doesn’t bring it up. “Trust me,” Minho says, crowding in her space, “you’d let me do whatever I wanted. You wouldn’t be able to resist.”
Hyunjin rolls her eyes. “You are so full of yourself.”
Minho laughs, unscrewing the cap on his flask. “You want a sip?”
“What is it?”
Minho shrugs. “Made it with whatever they had in the kitchen. It’s fruit-flavored. Sweet.”
“You’re in there playing with alcohol?” Hyunjin scoffs.
“Absolutely, baby. All that expensive free booze is just mine for the taking. Most things are.” He tilts the flask to her. She huffs, but gives in. The bathtub concoction has been good, but it still isn’t sweet enough for her. She takes the flask out of Minho’s hands, pulling back a little sip.
“Oh?” Hyunjin perks up.
“You like it?”
“It’s really good. It just tastes like sugar.”
Minho smiles. Sharp canines. Sharper eyes. He hands it to her. “You can drink it all, if you want.”
She takes one big gulp. It’s lemony, if a bit strong. Tasty. She sips it again. “I like it,” she says softly. She knocks the whole drink back, emptying the rather large flask into her mouth.
“I had a feeling you would,” Minho says. His hand touches her bare waist again, right above her skirt. This time Hyunjin doesn’t push him away. She dances with Minho, their bodies moving in sync to the trashy techno beat playing. Hyunjin forgets he’s a dancer, too. He grabs her, pulls her flush against him. He lets her grind on him, lets her push against him. He slips his fingers underneath her shirt, testing his limits. He’s always fucking testing his limits. Hyunjin should push his hands down. She doesn’t want him to touch her any higher up her chest.
“Lower your hands, pervert,” she says, though it sounds muffled and strained to her ears. How long have they been dancing? How many songs have passed? Where the hell is Chan? Wasn’t he supposed to get her a drink?
Hyunjin thinks she might like another one of whatever Minho made. It tasted so good. It was so fucking sweet.
“God,” Minho mumbles, against her ear, voice so far away and the music so loud. His fingers dip below the waistband of her skirt. “I’d fuck the shit out of you if it wouldn’t piss Chan off.”
“What?” Hyunjin sees spots dancing in front of her eyes. Her legs are starting to feel like lead. Minho’s grip on her hips doesn’t feel so comforting anymore. All the alcohol in her body is cresting in her empty gut.
“Nothing, baby,” he laughs. “Nothing you gotta worry about.”
Hyunjin shakes her head, but continues to sway to the music. Minho hardly lets her out of his sight. She wonders again, how many songs they’ve danced to. How many times he’s pulled her body against his. How many times she wished those hands were Chan’s. Thinking of him—she turns her head on a swivel, but he’s nowhere in sight. The mess of bodies in the living room press in closer. That sick, cloying, feeling rises.
Time slows down to a crawl. She’s so tired, she finds herself leaning a little bit on Minho for help, face pressed into the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Since when was she facing him? She could've sworn his chest was up against her back. Maybe she moved when she was dancing. Hyunjin thinks she’s had too much to drink.
“Chan,” she softly murmurs, against Minho’s skin, wishing it was him. She wonders if he’s gone off and found someone to fuck. She wants to know why he doesn’t even consider her.
“What the fuck did you do?!” Chan’s voice is razor sharp and cutting as he shouts over the music. Hyunjin wants to see his face. She can barely keep her eyes open.
“Something you’ve been too chicken shit to accomplish.” Minho’s mouth is right near her ear. She feels his shoulder move up—a shrug—against her cheek.
“Is that why Jeongin was talking my fucking ear off about—” Chan cuts himself off. Hyunjin can imagine that furrow right between his eyes. “You guys are some sick fucking bastards. I told you she was off limits.”
Hyunjin feels herself pulled out of Minho’s arms, before a familiar set wraps around her. She presses her face against their neck. Deep inhale. Chan. She settles against his body.
“Yeah,” Minho says, “but off limits for us.” He laughs and laughs. “Not for you.”
“You fucking bastard,” Chan spits. Hyunjin buries her face against his skin. She feels sick; it’s so hard trying to stay awake.
“Were you just gonna leave her like this? On the couch and just for anyone to take?!”
“Only if you aren’t smart enough. You’re a lucky guy, hyung. She doesn’t want me at all.”
“Not every woman does.”
Hyunjin can picture Minho’s smile. “The hot ones do.”
“Get your dick wet elsewhere. I’m taking her home.”
Minho’s laugh is so cruel. “I bet you are.”
Chan scoffs. Hyunjin can feel the vibration against her cheek. “Not like that.” He wraps his arms around her protectively. Hyunjin moans against the feeling. It’s so good to be wanted. It’s so good to be wanted by him.
“But you want it to be,” Minho says, snickering. “You might never get another chance.”
“Enough,” Chan’s voice is so abrasive. Hyunjin’s never heard him so mean. He sounds so hot. Her mouth fills with saliva.
“Hyunjin-ah,” Minho says sweetly, running his fingers through her hair.
She drools down the corner of her mouth, turns her head to Minho's voice. “Hmm?”
“Tell oppa thank you.”
“For what?!” Chan grits out.
“Thank you,” Hyunjin slurs.
Minho looks at Chan, eyes bright. “Looking out for her, of course.” He laughs. “You owe me, hyung. I’ll see you later. My softball babe is waiting for me.”
Hyunjin’s vision crosses, but she watches as Minho prances away, a sway in his step.
“Babe,” Chan’s mouth is right at her ear, “I’m taking you home.”
“Channie,” she says. His concerned face floats in front of her blurry eyes. “I feel funny.”
Chan manhandles her out of the frat house, pushing past more bodies until Hyunjin is met with the brisk, cool air on her face. It shocks a little bit of light back into her, but she finds herself hanging off Chan’s body for help.
“So drunk,” she murmurs. “Ruined your night.” Hyunjin takes in a shuddering breath. She leans all her weight on Chan, who carefully leads them down the sidewalk. She hopes they go back to his apartment. His bed is so soft. The towels in the bathroom are so warm.
“Sorry,” she mutters.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Chan says. He tightens his grip on her waist. His fingers tap against her skin.
“Don’t feel good.”
Chan makes a mollified sound. He curses under his breath, Hyunjin can barely make out the words. Something about Minho. Something about drinks. Hyunjin tastes sticky, syrupy sweet in her mouth. She licks the back of her teeth, before promptly turning to her left and throwing up on the sidewalk.
Chan holds her hair back as she vomits, the alcohol and bile coming up putrid. She shouldn’t have drank on an empty stomach. Her puke splashes against her feet and legs. At least she thinks she avoids getting it all over Chan. He’s holding her upright at this point, all power in her lower half gone.
“All better?” he asks softly, tucking her long hair inside the back of her shirt. Hyunjin thinks she is making a sound, but everything is fuzzy on the edges as she feels herself lifted off the ground.
She must pass out while on the walk, because the next thing Hyunjin feels is her body being set down on the toilet lid in Chan’s apartment. “Give me your shoes,” Chan says. He fights with the straps of her wedge heels, peeling them off her feet. Hyunjin tastes alcohol and barf in her mouth.
There’s a warm washcloth running up and down her legs and feet, wiping off the remnants of her vomit. If she was sober, Hyunjin would be so embarrassed at Chan having to take care of her like this. Instead, the sight of him knelt down on the floor, between her legs and washing her feet turns her on. She feels like a monster in sheep’s clothing. She wants him so bad.
“Feels good, oppa,” she says softly.
Chan chokes, movements pausing. Oh right. She doesn’t call him that.
“You’re drunk,” Chan says, going back to his ministrations. “And you’re covered in barf.”
“You’re taking such good care of me,” Hyunjin whines. Her voice sounds shrill even to her own ears. Chan says nothing, only continues his movements.
“Are you mad at me?” she hiccups.
“Never,” he says, rinsing out the washcloth in the sink. He hands her a cup of water and tells her to rinse out her mouth. Hyunjin tries but gets the water all over her shirt, before spitting it out in the bathtub.
“I’m all wet,” she sighs, looking down at her body.
“God, don’t say that,” Chan murmurs. “I’ll give you some clothes of mine to wear, just leave your outfit in here.” Chan watches her, as if he’s afraid she doesn’t know how to get around his apartment herself.
Hyunjin takes off her clothes, stripping to just her underwear. Her bra sits on the top of the pile of laundry as she lets out a sigh of relief. “Too tight,” she murmurs, though Chan has a hand in front of his face to preserve her modesty. Even while drunk it makes her angry. Is he so disgusted by the way she looks he can’t even see what she’s willing to show him?
They make it to his room and she manages to get one of his shirts over her body before laying down on his bed. She sighs, pressing her face into the pillow. “Smells like you,” she murmurs. It’s comforting. His smell hits the back of her nose and mouth. Chan has always been her safe haven. Hyunjin bites his pillow, licking the fabric.
“Jesus fucking Christ—Jinnie—”
“Mhmmm,” she moans, kicking her feet against the mattress. She runs the bare skin of her manicured foot up and down the bedspread. Hyunjin turns her head away from his pillow, but even that takes effort. Her eyes burn, but the image of Chan at the base of the bed is clear. She taps her foot against his leg.
“My feet are so sore, oppa,” she whines, “massage them for me.”
Chan chokes out, “J-Jinnie—” but she presses her toes against his arm, squeezing them against his skin. He sighs, and soon enough she feels his hands around her foot, thumbs pressing against her arch.
“Ahhhh,” she moans. It feels like a dream. Chan’s hands are touching, squeezing.
“You should sleep,” he says, though his voice sounds strained. “This’ll all wear off tomorrow.”
“Hmm?” Hyunjin whispers, already getting comfortable. Chan really kneads against the sore muscle at the ball of her left foot. She spreads her legs, his shirt hiking up. Hyunjin didn’t bother to put the pants on. Chan’s grip on her ankle tightens. She hopes he sees her panties. She thinks he should.
“The things I’d do,” he whispers, though his voice is so far away. His hand is no longer at her ankle, but halfway up her calf. “Fucking hell, Minho.”
Hyunjin snuggles tighter against the sheets. She doesn’t know why Chan’s talking about Minho, when she’s right here. She should be the only thing he focuses on. She should be his girlfriend. She’s chased enough of those other bitches away. She deserves this. This fever dream. Hyunjin spreads her legs open more, exposing herself to him. Her underwear is cute and baby blue. She wanted him to see it tonight anyway. That was her plan after all.
Chan pushes her leg out, spreading her wider. Hyunjin feels herself open up. Chan’s hand is no longer on her calf, but now against her inner thigh.
She can’t see his face, but she can imagine his eyes. Sharp, sweet.
And never looking at her.
“God,” he says, “forgive me.”
His voice trails off. Hyunjin falls asleep.
***
When Hyunjin was in her freshman year of college, she went to a party hosted by a friend of a friend. Chan was a sophomore, he was too busy with his frat brothers, and her only goal was getting fucked up. She remembers being too many drinks in, movements sluggish, and a boy with white-blond hair she did not recognize trying to lead her upstairs into one of the rooms.
“You’ll sleep it all off, alright,” he said. “You won’t even remember a thing.”
Hyunjin doesn’t recall his face, but she does remember never making it to that room. Chan had been there—her knight in shining armor. She still doesn’t know how he knew where to find her. Not that it mattered. He pushed the guy down the stairs and carried her out of the house party and over his groaning body. She liked that he felt no remorse in hurting someone to protect her. She liked that he cared about her so much. She liked that he took her to his apartment off campus, removed her shoes, and carded his fingers through her hair.
“The next time you wanna go to a party, call me.” It wasn’t a suggestion. “Someone has to keep an eye on you.” His fingers were firm on her face. “I’ll do it.”
“I’ll only go to parties with you,” Hyunjin said.
“Good girl,” Chan threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan by his bed.
“You’re so lucky, Hyunjin-ah,” he whispered, “that it was oppa who got you, and not whoever that bastard was.”
“‘Cause you’d have treated me better right?” she murmured, still half-drunk and in a daze. It felt like an impasse. Admitting to something that had been boiling between them for years. Chan’s eyes sparkled with something Hyunjin isn’t quite sure she’s ever seen.
“So much,” is all he says. He doesn’t touch her. “You should sleep.”
“Okay.” And the moment passed, just like every other. Chan settled into bed, spooning her. He wrapped strong arms around her belly, splayed against her skin. Hyunjin didn’t feel so drunk anymore. In fact, she had never been more alert.
In her dreams that evening, the blonde guy at the party succeeds—he gets Hyunjin up the stairs and holds her down in someone else’s bed, fucking her and caging her and surrounding her. No one comes to save her. But halfway through, when Hyunjin thought all hope was lost, the visage above her morphs into Chan. Suddenly, she relaxes. This is the way it always should be.
This is what she’s always wanted.
When Hyunjin startles awake, the first thing she feels is a heavy hand under her side across her abdomen while another hand holds up one of her legs by her knee. Someone is panting in her ear. Her head feels like it’s full of lead. She tenses up, prepared to push the guy off her back, before she hears—
“J-Just as good as I’ve always imagined,” Chan says, his breath is hot on the nape of her neck. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel just as wonderful as I thought.”
Chan. It’s—Chan?
What the fuck is going on? Chan is breathing so loud, fucking her sideways. There’s no way she’d ever let herself forget agreeing to this. There’s nothing else in the world she wants more.
The last thing she remembers was dancing with Minho. She was irritated because Chan didn’t look at her skirt, the party was too loud, the men too annoying—
But the drink Minho gave her—it was so sweet.
Hyunjin takes a deep breath. She blinks, trying to adjust her eyes to the dim light of the bedroom and spots the moon peeking in through the break in the curtains. The bed smells familiar. Her shoes are off her feet. There are no other sounds besides Chan’s breathing. He must have taken her home to his apartment.
But… sex? Chan never seemed… he was always such a nice guy. He would have asked, right? Hyunjin knows she has fantasies, and knows she imagined this exact scenario a hundred times over. But it just doesn’t feel like something her Chan would do.
Surely—he would’ve asked?
“So tight,” Chan grunts as he pushes his dick inside her, violating her, over and over again. He’s not even wearing a condom. How fucking drunk was she? How careless did she let herself get around a bunch of frat boys? “So sorry. I’m so sorry—ah—”
For a second, Hyunjin imagines Minho’s hands on her skin, his dick inside her instead of Chan’s, fucking her with that sick, arrogant nonchalance. He would taunt her in this position. He wouldn’t even feel bad. The thought makes her want to puke. Minho’s not a nice guy.
She imagines the guy who hit on her outside the frat house, his gross, crusty fingers on her skin. How such a sleazeball like him could ever think he’d have a chance with a girl like her. Hyunjin should’ve stepped on his foot. Nobody should be allowed to look at her like that.
She thinks of all of Chan’s annoying frat brothers, all the men she vaguely tolerates only because Chan loves them. Only because Chan protects her from them. They won’t bother you, because you’re with me.
It could have been anyone else at that party. Any man would have loved to say they fucked her. Any man would have enjoyed marking her off as a notch on their bedpost, as they fucked her on some threadbare couch or bent over the disgusting bathroom sink.
Here, in Chan’s apartment, she’s on the most comfortable mattress in the world, tangled up in the soft sheets, head against a pillow that smells like her favorite person in the world.
Suddenly—she feels so lucky.
Thank God it’s him.
It’s her Chan. He saved her again. Just like he always does. Just like he always will.
He really is the nicest guy she knows. Isn’t that lovely?
She twitches against the bed, against Chan’s quick, forceful movements. His moans are so loud in her ears, his grip on her knee is constricting.
Hyunjin closes her eyes tightly. Chan can’t see her face. She wishes she could look into his eyes.
“Ah, ah, fuck,” he grunts. She can feel his dick inside her. The way he pulses and throbs. The borrowed shirt is still on, and Hyunjin can feel where he’s just pushed her panties to the side, as if his own impatience at seeing her half-naked body was too much. He’s so big it hurts. His dick carves out a space inside her, as if that’s where it was always supposed to be.
She’s being cleaved in two—her mind, her body.
If Chan wants her like this, he can have her.
Her body hurts. Her head is spinning. Besides, she rationalizes, she couldn’t fight him off if she wanted. All those hours at the gym, gaining muscle—he’s too strong.
She could make a noise, but no sound is worth losing out on the slick slide of Chan’s cock, the in and out and in and out, the way he stretches her cunt, and the way he takes everything he wants. The way he doesn’t care if she wants it too.
If it’s the only chance she’ll ever get to experience it, if this is the price she has to pay to finally have him—then so be it.
He pants against her ear and it’s a wet sound. Like a vicious dog in rut. She kind of wishes she had been awake for him pushing it inside her. She can’t even fucking bend her neck to look down without letting him know. A sick part of her would have loved to watch.
None of the other guys who’ve fucked her have ever felt this good. Have ever filled her up, stretched her out, made her feel like her body was boiling from the inside. It makes Hyunjin feel sick, and makes her hate the thought the moment it crosses her mind. All of those men were only ever to make Chan jealous. None of them deserved to touch her.
But Chan does.
Her protector. Her knight. Her man. Hyunjin focuses on the feeling of his thrusts, the way he fucks her insides, the way he hooks his hand around her knee to reach her breasts in his palm.
“Your tits are my favorite,” he murmurs. He doesn’t even know she’s awake. “I fucking love it when you dress like a whore. I always wish i-it’s for me.”
It is, she wants to say. I only ever want you to see me.
Chan presses his face against her neck and shoulder, peppering her in kisses, wherever he can reach. Someone evil wouldn’t do that. Someone wretched wouldn’t kiss her so tenderly.
It’s okay then. It must be okay. It must happen for a reason.
She relaxes against the sheets completely, playing dead. A very small part of her wishes she was. He gets more aggressive in his thrusts, uncaring about her body. Why should he though? She’s supposed to be asleep. She’s not supposed to remember any of this.
“Y-You feel so good, Jinnie, my baby,” Chan’s voice is thick, “fuck, fuck, I’m sorry. I c-couldn’t resist. Ah, your cunt is so perfect. Everything I dreamed of. Everything I wanted—“ He cuts himself off with a moan, biting her shoulder hard.
The praise makes Hyunjin blush. Could it be true? Is she really everything he’s ever dreamed of? Is she really the object of his desire? Happiness, unbidden, breaks through her like a dam. She should be disgusted. She should push Chan away.
This sick desire eats at her, like a living, breathing monster. If Hyunjin could whittle her universe down to a single moment it would be this: the way Chan’s cock feels inside her body, hot and molten; the slick gush of her cunt as she wraps around him, wetter than she’s ever been; the way his hand holds her leg up, caging her and preventing her escape; and the satisfying sound of his pleasure as it ricochets in the quiet room. The experience of knowing that Chan gets off on using her like this, that he enjoys fucking her while he thinks she’s asleep is enough to fuel her sexual fantasies for the rest of her life.
She actually likes him. Loves him, even. This might make her love him more. Maybe that part is her fault. Maybe she should have known better. Maybe all men spend their days biding their time. Hyunjin folds her tongue in her mouth to prevent herself from making a sound. She’s pliant against the sheets; just as she should be. Just as Chan needs.
A true testament to their lasting friendship, is that Hyunjin doesn’t really feel mortified at realizing that Chan was capable of this all on his own. That he’s grown up just as much as she has. That he’s become twisted up in his own desires, that he can no longer parse through what he should and should not do.
It’s a thrill in a way, to know it is because of her that Chan has lost all self-control.
She should push him away. She should make him regret it.
Instead, she clenches down on his cock.
All men are the same, but Chan—Chan is worse.
Because he’s so fucking nice.
“Fuck!” he shouts, pace throttling. He rolls her onto her stomach, fixing her how he likes. He turns her head to the side, allowing her to breathe, but knocks her legs open, keeping her cunt spread apart. Hyunjin hears the fabric of her underwear rip before Chan tears it the rest of the way off her body. There are a few seconds while he moves where he’s not inside her. She never wants to experience those seconds again.
“E-Even when y-you sleep, you’re so good to me. I hope you’re dreaming of me, baby. I always dream of you.” Hyunjin is a dead weight, letting Chan hoist her up by her hips. His cock feels different from this angle—he’s touching parts of her no one else has, reaching deep inside her body and claiming it for his own.
She lets out a little sigh, barely passing between her lips. Her eyes stay firmly shut. She wishes she could moan. No one else has ever made her feel this fucking good.
“You’ll let Daddy cum in you, right baby?” Chan begs. “I’ll clean you up after, I promise. When have I ever lied to my sweetest thing?” He presses a kiss to the top of her spine. Hyunjin feels gooseflesh rise up on her skin. It’s a strange feeling, to be desired so openly, so carnally, and not say a thing.
Right now, she’s just a hole. The heat simmers in her belly at the feeling.
Chan fucks into her, thrusts erratic, off-kilter. He must be so close. Daddy, she thinks. That’s a new one. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. It’s better than oppa. Like a horrible guilty pleasure that Chan’s never been able to indulge in. She wonders if he’s ever imagined her calling him that. She’d say it so sweetly. She likes this side of him, the part of him that takes. Daddy. She can imagine his face and the way it would roll off her tongue. It’s so vile. The hand at the back of her head never lets up. She’ll have pillow lines on her skin, and maybe a few bruises on her hips. Chan doesn’t seem to know his own strength. To understand the limitations.
Or maybe he does, and he just doesn’t fucking care.
Like if she asked where the bruises came from, he might lie to her face. You fell down as I was taking you home, he could say. You’re lucky it was me that found you.
And who would Hyunjin be to refute that? She’s just a dumb girl who got too drunk at a frat party and had to be saved a second time. Dumb bitches never learn. She might be the dumbest bitch of all.
Here is Chan, fucking her body, claiming what’s his—what he’s owed. Taking and taking and taking without permission. Without a care in the world for the consequences of his actions.
She wonders when he started fucking her. How long he must have waited. Did he watch her sleeping body until the temptation was too much? Or did he push in the moment she closed her eyes?
Chan’s moans are so loud, like he just can’t control himself. She likes it so much, even though she knows she should hate it. He bites her shoulder blade again.
“Daddy’s gonna cum, princess. Can I cum in you, please? Please, please, please—“
Hyunjin loves how he whines and moans as if she would respond. As if she isn’t supposed to be anything more than a fleshlight. He forces her cunt down onto his cock over and over and over again, both hands on her hips, pinching her skin so fucking tight. She wonders what his excuse will be for the bruises, for her missing underwear. She thinks about all the other instances that Chan could have lied to her.
Hyunjin could never tell the difference. She should care. She does not.
She just wants him, in any way she can.
“So f-fucking tight,” Chan grunts. The wet sound of his dick ruining her cunt will haunt her memories forever. “Baby,” his hand goes up her spine, “I’m gonna fill you up.”
There isn’t any protection. Hyunjin doesn’t think she’d want that anyway. She clenches on his cock again, feigning a twitch in her sleep.
This time she opens her eyes.
“Baby,” he says so softly as he cums inside. It’s thick, warm, and Hyunjin feels like she’s being dunked in quicksand. No way up. Her body doesn’t work, her hands won’t move. Her mind is a thousand miles away. She’s thinking of the wonderful boy she met in middle school, her best friend in high school, her savior in college, and how all of that shattered.
She should hate him, she knows this. For violating her this way. For fucking her while he thought she was asleep.
In an alternate reality, their first time is slow, deliberate, measured. It’s not this twisted, awful, delirious encounter, hidden between the sheets in the middle of the night.
She doesn’t hate him. She doesn’t even think he violated her, not really. Not when she’s wanted this so bad and for so long. Maybe this was the only way to get it. She should be happy he took charge. She should be happy he’s so gentle. She’s already told herself she’d let Chan do anything.
It extends to this too.
He pulls his dick out of her body and reality sinks its claws all the way into the marrow of her bones. The emptiness he leaves behind is enough to make her cry. He should be inside her again. He should have woken her up. She should have said something. He should have just fucking asked. She should have pushed him away. Their real first time together shouldn’t have been like this. There could have been another way.
His fingers trace her cunt, blunt and thick. Her hips are sore and her back is killing her. Hyunjin can feel her heartbeat in her fucking cervix from where Chan was ramming into it like a bull. His fingers swirl around her labia, flicking against her clit. It takes everything in her not to moan. He slides three fingers inside her easily. She feels like a fucking whore, even if his touch is clinical—exploratory. He spreads his fingers inside her, stretching her out, probably watching his own cum drip out of her body like a pervert. The thought turns her on more than anything. Hyunjin wants to be on her back and face him. She only wishes she could see.
His cum rolls down her thigh, like needles against her body. He massages it into her skin, rubbing it everywhere it drips. At this moment, she is nothing more than his property. The sick part of her doesn’t mind. The part of her that loves him wants him any way she can. She should be more grossed out. More upset.
Instead, she only wishes he was fucking her again.
He takes his fingers out of her cunt and traces one of them over her exposed asshole. Hyunjin already knows what he’s going to do before he does it. Because she knows everything about Chan, after all.
He presses his finger coated in her own slick against the firm muscle, forcing it into just the first knuckle.
“Ah, you’re so tight,” he whispers so softly. He tugs his finger in and out. “I wanted to fuck you here instead, but that felt so rude. I really wanna fuck your ass Hyunjin-ah. But I’m not that cruel.”
He pushes in deeper, the slide easy with just one. “I wonder if you’d let me,” he murmurs so softly. “Or if this was the only chance I had.” He fucks her ass with his single digit, not trying to stretch her open for more—but just simply to entertain himself. So that he can sleep knowing a part of himself was in that hole, too. The fingers of his free hand spread her cheeks open. Hyunjin can imagine the look of concentration on his face. The ruthless determination he sets to everything. He pushes two fingers in, the stretch painful despite the cum and slick on his hand. It hurts where he touches her.
It’s wet when he spits on her hole, playing with her ass. Anything, she thinks. He could have anything. His fingers push in and out where nothing else has ever been. Chan just wants to be the first for something.
He presses a kiss to the base of her spine, removing his fingers and wiping them on the sheets near her knee.
“Ah,” he whispers, so softly Hyunjin thinks she could be imagining it, “I wish I could see you cum. That’s the only thing I need.” He plasters his chest to her back, wrapping himself around her, hands resting on her breasts. She closes her eyes so he can’t see, and folds easily to the way he arranges her body on the bed.
He wants to see her cum. Maybe Chan would also love to hear her moan, would love to watch her sink down on his cock, fully cognizant, panting and begging for it. She’d let him fuck her in the ass—has even fingered herself back there before dreaming of all the things Chan would do to her.
No one so cruel would ever wish her pleasure like that. It does make her smile, despite the circumstances.
Chan really is such a nice guy.
***
When Hyunjin wakes up again, her mouth tastes like stale alcohol and ash. There are gentle hands high around her waist, settling above the fabric of the hoodie she wears. And a blanket pulled up to her chin. The memories of the previous night come rushing back in a haze. She remembers flickers of the party—dancing, Minho’s wicked laugh, Chan’s hands on her knee.
He fucked her.
That memory is enough to have her freeze in his arms.
“Channie?” she says softly.
“Good morning, babe.” His breath is against the back of her neck. She tenses in his hold, hand gripping Chan’s against her belly. Everything feels like a sequence of dreams. She got too drunk. Chan took her home.
He fucked her. Came inside her.
Hyunjin takes a deep, shuddering breath. There is a fresh detergent smell on the pillowcase and the sheets smell brand new. She’s wearing a hoodie and a pair of boxers. Her legs and body feel painstakingly clean.
“Am I wearing your… boxers?” she asks softly.
“Yeah,” Chan replies. He draws circles against her skin. “You uh… took all your clothes off when I brought you home.” A lie. “I don’t know where your panties went.” Another. “Figured you’d want to be covered up.”
“That was very kind of you,” she murmurs, reeling with the memory of his dick inside her body. She fidgets in his hold and he releases her. Hyunjin feels sick with the loss. She wants Chan to hold her. She wants him to leave her alone. The shame of desire melts her from the inside. She turns in the bed, facing him.
“Ahhh,” she moans, hissing at the pain that shoots up her spine and the soreness of her thighs and hips.
“Are you okay?” Chan asks, as if he doesn’t know.
“Really sore.”
Chan snorts. “You were dancing so much last night. By the time I found you—you were leaning on Minho’s shoulder. You must be exhausted.”
“Yeah,” she says. She pushes the blanket off both of them. Chan is shirtless and his body is unmarked. Hyunjin wants to dig her nails into his skin.
“I don’t remember much from last night.” She puts her hand on his arm. “Did I drink a lot?”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t meet her gaze.
“I’m sorry for ruining your fun.”
“You didn’t.”
“But you had to take care of me again.”
“Hyunjin-ah,” Chan pushes her hair off her face. “I told you, remember? I’ll always take care of you.”
“That’s right, you always do.” Hyunjin sniffles.
He always has, hasn’t he? He’s always been the perfect, perfect, best friend. Chan pats her head, carding his fingers through her hair and smoothing out the tangles. Such a sweet gesture. Hyunjin wants to push him away. She wants to kiss him on the mouth.
He should have gotten her drunker, so she wouldn’t remember at all. Now she’s forced to pretend she doesn’t know what his cock feels like. What his fingers feel like. This might be the cruelest thing Chan’s ever done—giving her something she wants and taking it all back.
“What’s wrong, babe?” Chan’s fingers have smoothed out all her hair.
“Just thinking.” About your cock. About your mouth. About how you might have always been like this and hid it from me.
“Do you wanna tell me about it?” Chan wipes the tears off her face with his fingers. His touch is soft, comforting. Hyunjin feels dizzy with want. She imagines him inside her again, cock pushing in and out—pulsing, throbbing. The full heat of him. She misses the feeling, she doesn’t want to pretend. She needs to have him.
Maybe Minho was right.
The things she would do, to get it again.
“Well,” Hyunjin says, “I had plans to tell the guy I like about how I feel.”
Chan’s grip on her cheek tightens. There is so much power hidden underneath that grasp. Use it, she wants to scream, use it on me.
“I got dressed up,” she continues, “makeup and everything. Cute skirt. But I guess I drank too much. Ruined my plans.”
“Who is this damn guy?” Chan asks, his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. “Do I know him?”
Hyunjin looks at him. Really looks at him. He’s already had her. Everything I ever dreamed of. I’m sorry. Now she should have him. Forever. Whatever the cost.
“Promise you won’t get mad?” her voice is so small.
“It’s not Minho, is it?!” Chan asks.
Hyunjin can barely contain her reaction, trying to hold back her smile. “And if it was?” She presses. “Would you be jealous?”
Chan licks his bottom lip, tongue darting out to wet the skin. A millennium passes. “Yes,” he says, “I would be jealous.”
Hyunjin gasps. “Oh, really?”
“Yes, really,” he pulls her closer. Hyunjin wonders about them sometimes. Minho is so cruel. But now she knows Chan is, too. She wonders if this is a competition. If she is a prize.
“Have you ever wondered if he’s fucked me?” Hyunjin wants to know how far she can push him. How much she could make Chan bleed.
His hands instantly tighten on her body, his grip is painful on her arms. “I know he hasn’t,” Chan whispers, pulling her close. That callousness comes through. Just the way she wants.
“How do you know, hmm?”
“Because,” Chan says breezily, “all of my friends know you’re off limits.” All my friends know you’re mine. All my friends know you belong to me.
“He wants to, though,” she adds, just to watch Chan twitch.
“Babe, everyone I know wants to fuck you.” The smile on his face is blinding.
“Everyone, huh?” Hyunjin teases. “What about you?”
“What?” his eyes sharpen.
“You heard me,” Hyunjin gulps, “everyone you know wants to fuck me. But what about you?”
“Hyunjin…”
She feels the bottom of her stomach drop. He looks at her in a way he never has before. His gaze sets her teeth on edge, almost makes her skin crawl. It’s a wonderful feeling.
“You won’t like what I have to say,” Chan’s face is unreadable.
“Oh, Daddy,” Hyunjin moans, rolling on top of Chan and holding his wrists down against the bed. “I think I will.”
Chan’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “What the—were you—”
“Awake?” Hyunjin nods, showing her teeth. She bends down, licks his face from his chin to his hairline. “Why didn’t you wake me up, Daddy?”
“H-Hyunjin, get off me.” His voice is stern. Mean.
“No.” She drags her nails down his chest, pinching his nipples. “I’ve wanted you for years. For years. I chased away every girl you brought around so I could have you to myself.” Her voice goes higher and higher. She rakes her nails down his chest, leaving red lines in her wake. “Why was I never an option?” She pouts, sitting on his hips.
“I said, get off me.”
“No,” Hyunjin twists his nipples.
Chan sticks his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyebrows raised. “Hyunjin—move.”
“No—”
The next thing she feels is being manhandled onto her back, wrists pinned to the bedspread and body locked against the mattress under Chan’s weight.
Hyunjin lets out a sigh of relief. She stares up at Chan, lovingly.
“Do you like me?” she asks softly. “It felt like you really liked me last night.”
“Is this what you want?” He sounds amused, playing with his bottom lip against his teeth. “Me, like this?”
Hyunjin arches up into his touch. “And more,” she begs. “Whatever you want to give me.”
Chan huffs out a laugh. “I can’t believe that bastard was right. I really do have it so easy.” He rips his boxers off her and spreads Hyunjin’s legs open. “Guess I really do owe him one.”
He traces his fingers over her cunt, pushing two digits inside. She’s already soaking wet. Hyunjin is so turned on she might scream.
“Y-You’ll take me on a date afterwards, right?” She coughs on a moan.
“Baby,” Chan says, staring at her cunt, “I’ll take you anywhere you like.”
Hyunjin relaxes against the sheets as Chan fingers her open. He spits on her cunt as he digs his fingers through the mess between her legs. She can’t control her sounds, moaning on every thrust of his fingers inside her body.
“It’s even better when you’re awake,” Chan says, “fuck, I wanna hear you, I wanna see you cum.”
Hyunjin preens, rocking back against him. She can make all the noise she wants. She can grab at Chan from wherever she can reach. This is everything she’s ever wanted. “I-It’s such a good thing, t-that you were there at the party, Daddy,” she says. She looks down between her legs, and sees where Chan’s taken his dick out of his sweatpants, rubbing it up and down her folds, getting himself coated in her slick. Hyunjin can’t turn her eyes away.
“You’re right,” he grunts, rubbing the head of his cock against her clit, “you shouldn’t drink so much. Someone else could have found you and seriously hurt you.” He pushes his cock against her exposed asshole, letting it rest against the muscle. Hyunjin shakes with the feeling, imagining it inside her. What would he do? What is he capable of?
She really likes his loss of control.
“But n-not you,” Hyunjin pants, “you treat me so nicely, Channie.”
He pushes his cock inside her cunt again, and Hyunjin squeals at the fullness. His dick is so big. No one else will ever get to enjoy this from him. To be split open like this, to be desired like this, to be fucked like this. He bends down to kiss her mouth, her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids. He’s the most amazing person in the world. And he’s all hers. Where every other girl fails, Hyunjin wins.
Chan breaks the kiss to push her legs further back, staring at where his dick thrusts inside her body. Hyunjin watches as he pushes a finger in her alongside his cock. “What can I say?” Chan’s smile is blinding, “I’m a really nice guy.”