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Of course if your phone is going to disappear, it happens when you don’t have the time to look for it. That’s the cardinal rule governing situations like this. You nearly stub your toe on the door frame pushing past your roommate, who is giving you a verbal list of all the reasons you should just stay home.
“You’re going to be scared.”
Jihoon follows you from your room to the living room as you continue your search.
“That’s kind of the point,” you tell him as you pull up the couch cushions. Nothing there either.
“Yes, but you’re not going to be able to sleep. You don’t compartmentalize well.”
“Rude.” Shoving the cushions back into place, you try to think of all the places your phone could possibly be. The movie is showing in fifteen minutes and you promised Wonwoo you’d be on time. “Can you try calling my phone again?”
“Will you stay home if you can’t find it?”
“No, I’ll just be phoneless.”
Jihoon looks even more offended at that. “So you’re going to see a scary movie and then not have your phone late at night?”
“People did that before cell phones were invented,” you point out with a lot of bravado. You’re not sure you’ve ever gone out without it.
He sighs. “Try the kitchen.”
You head straight for it, your roommate close behind. Sure enough, it’s sitting on the counter. “Aha! Thank you.”
Hurrying to the door, you start jamming your feet into your shoes. “Look, I know you’re worried but it’ll totally be fine. Wonwoo said this one isn’t as scary as the last one.”
“And you believe him?”
Ignoring Jihoon’s flat tone, you give him a grin. “Don’t wait up. See you tomorrow!”
You’re sorely tempted to give him a kiss on the cheek, just to see what he’ll do, but you don’t have time to play around. Instead, you dash out, pulling the front door shut. You manage to make it to the theater by going only five miles above the speed limit the entire time, which is the extent of your vehicular irresponsibility most times. After all, usually you’re carrying Jihoon in the passenger seat.
The “Baby on Board” sign swings as you come to a hard stop in the parking lot. That was a joke gift from Wonwoo, who pointed out once that Jihoon was like a baby in the car. Jihoon hates it and has tried to throw it away on multiple occasions. You like that it sometimes deters tailgaters. (You also like that it makes Jihoon mad. He’s cute when he’s mad.)
Wonwoo is waiting in the lobby, idly eating popcorn.
“You’re late.”
“Not late!”
You show him your phone where you have exactly two minutes to spare. He just rolls his eyes.
“Come on. All the good seats are probably gone.”
You take your ticket stub and slip it into your wallet to add to your collection later. There aren’t a lot of people in the theater tonight, so despite Wonwoo’s grumbling, there’s plenty of good seats to choose from. He plants himself right in the middle of a row.
“Now’s your last chance to run, scaredy cat.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking to,” you reply, getting comfy. This will be fine. Great, even. You’re going to be totally relaxed. The most relaxed person in this entire theater.
You regret your decision the moment the previews start. Horror movies have never been your thing: you’re too sensitive and everything ends up magnified in intensity inside your head. You also have a tendency to ruminate on anything you’ve seen for hours afterwards, which isn’t great when what you’re seeing involves jump scares and graphic murder.
By the time the first jump scare happens all of three minutes in, you’re trembling. Give you ghosts, creepy dolls, the Tooth Fairy–all of those are better than real humans playing mind games. So of course this has to be actual serial killers preying on a couple trying to have a nice getaway in the woods.
When the stabbing starts, you’re ready to cry. Jihoon was right. He’s usually right. You want to go home now . You risk a glance at Wonwoo, who hasn’t stopped eating popcorn except to laugh at parts you don’t find remotely funny.
Is he smiling ?
“You’re a psychopath,” you whisper to him. “How can you be smiling right now?”
“I’m smiling at you,” he whispers back. “You’re terrified .”
You’re ready to retort when there’s another jump scare and you almost whack the popcorn right out of Wonwoo’s hands. He leans further away from you, but his smile remains.
You hate his guts.
By the time the credits roll, you’re not sure if you want to cry or throw up. You feel sick from sitting tensed for almost two hours and your nerves are shot.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“No,” you say hotly. “That was awful.”
“It wasn’t great,” says Wonwoo, tossing the remains of his popcorn into a bin. “It was too predictable.”
“You. Are. A psychopath,” you insist.
“Then stop coming with me to scary movies. Ball’s in your court.”
He’s not wrong, but you don’t really like his logic. The worst part is you feel jittery and tense and now you have to go home to Jihoon, who is going to be so smug about it. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll be asleep.
That seems worse though. Coming home to a dark apartment might kill you. He’s at least left a light on, right? Glumly, you think that he probably hasn’t just to punish you. It would be just like him to make a point by leaving you to walk into darkness.
“Why do you look so miserable?” asks Wonwoo. “Movie’s over.”
You tell him about Jihoon and the lights.
“He only does that when he’s feeling petty.”
“I canceled Roommate Night for this.”
“Ohhh,” says Wonwoo. “Yeah, you’re fucked.”
That’s not what you want to hear.
Ever since you moved in with Jihoon, Thursday nights are Roommate Nights. Occasionally, you play games or watch movies, but mostly you just cook dinner together and hang out. It’s a way of ensuring that even during busy schedules you both have time to connect.
Sometimes the odd party or work event comes up and you have to reschedule, but you always make sure to catch up at least once a week. Except you guys are going on two weeks without a Roommate Night and you begged off to go sit through a sickening movie with Wonwoo instead.
He’s right: Jihoon is going to make you suffer.
“It’s not just my fault,” you protest, as Wonwoo follows you to your car. The parking lot is brightly lit, but that doesn’t stop you from clenching your keys between your fingers as though you’ll be attacked at any moment. “He worked overtime the last two weeks even though he absolutely didn’t have to, but the moment I have plans, suddenly I’m the bad roommate and it’s all my fault.”
“Tell those excuses to him. I can’t absolve you of anything.”
“I tried. He just got pouty.” You check your backseat thoroughly before climbing into the driver’s seat. “I can drive you to your car.”
Wonwoo points three rows over. “It’s right there.”
“And so? Someone could like…tackle you between here and there.”
He just laughs. “Have fun driving home.”
“You’re a monster!” you call after him. He waves back.
You still wait until he’s in his car, following him out of the parking lot. At the first light he turns in the opposite direction from you and you immediately feel anxious. You’ve driven this way a million times already, but why are there so few cars on the road? And why does everything seem darker than usual? You check your lights, which are already fully on.
The parking lot is packed due to the late hour, so you have to take a spot a few buildings down from where you actually live. You sit in the car, wondering if you should call Jihoon. He might be sleeping already and also, he’ll only hold it against you as proof that you should have stayed home.
Checking once more to make sure no one is around your car, you fling yourself out and slam the door. Then you bolt, holding your key fob up high enough to hear the locks beep as you run. Your footsteps sound extra loud as you dash through the parking lot, trying to outrun any potential murderers.
By the time you make it to your stairwell, you’re properly out of breath. God, you really should start going to the gym with Jihoon. You can’t outrun a turtle, nevertheless a killer. Unlocking the door, you brace yourself to enter a dark apartment, but find yourself stepping into light instead. A loud sigh of relief escapes you.
“What was that for?” asks Jihoon, craning his neck over the back of the couch.
Not tonight, murderers! Locking the door, you say “I thought you were going to turn off all the lights to punish me.”
“I was,” he replies. “Then I figured you might break something or get hurt.”
“Wow. So considerate.”
“I thought so. Also, why are you breathing so hard?”
“I’m not,” you lie, trying to swallow back your breath.
“Did you run from the parking lot?”
“No?”
Jihoon sighs. “I told you that you were going to be scared.”
“I’m not scared. I just decided to jog.”
“Sure. At midnight.”
“You know how important my health is to me.”
He turns off the TV just as you’re coming around to sit with him.
“You don’t want to talk for a while?” you ask. “Isn’t it still early for bed?”
But he isn’t falling for it. “You just want me to stay here because you’re scared.”
“Okay, fine,” you admit. “It was scary! But if you’d seen it you’d be scared, too.”
“Ghosts?”
“Worse. Real human killers.”
Jihoon scrunches up his face. “How are humans worse than ghosts?”
“Because humans are real! It could actually happen!”
“Okay, ghosts could happen.”
“No offense to your and Seungcheol’s ghost nightmares but like, ghost I have never seen versus humans invading my home with knives,” you explain. “Which of these is more likely?”
The only response you get is Jihoon rolling his eyes. “I’m going to sleep.”
“Fine, try not to think about ghosts.”
“Try not to think about psychopaths,” he replies, before heading down the hallway and pulling his door shut.
Okay, fine. He’s just going to be petulant, then. You suppose you should at least be grateful that he waited long enough to make sure you got home safely. Even when he’s mad at you, he still cares.
You drag out the time by fixing yourself a little snack and some hot herbal tea. While the water boils, you think about how to apologize to your roommate. Maybe you can make it up to Jihoon tomorrow. You both have the day off for a holiday.
You can build a blanket fort and watch movies in the living room. He’ll roll his eyes and call you childish, but he’ll still enjoy it anyway. Or you can try cooking a new recipe from the shared list on the fridge.
He’s not good at staying mad at you. Whatever you choose to do, he’ll warm up. Especially if you tell him he’s right. He loves hearing that.
You head to your room with your food, noticing that the space under Jihoon’s door is dark. He really has gone to sleep.
You manage to waste another hour eating your snack, doing your night routine, and doomscrolling. By that point it’s 1:00 a.m. and you’re out of ways to distract yourself from sleeping. Reluctantly, you turn out the light, then immediately turn it back on.
No one needs to know that you’re going to sleep with your light on tonight. If Jihoon asks, you just got so tired you forgot to turn it off.
You roll over, clutching your blankets to your chest, and force your eyes closed. Images of masked figures hovering outside of your door or beside your bed flash through your mind. Living in an apartment means there’s always some kind of noise happening: water running, neighbors thumping, faint music. Tonight, though, it’s oddly, deathly silent.
Until a sudden noise makes you sit up in bed. You’re not crazy. That sound was in the apartment.
You’ve got a baseball bat that you stole from your brother, just in case of emergencies, so you grab that and jump back into your bed. The sound comes again, a sort of distorted clanking that makes the hairs rise on your arm.
Fumbling for your phone, you hurriedly text Jihoon.
You: Did you hear something?
He responds almost immediately: No
You: Are you sure?
Jihoon: Are you just trying to get my attention?
You: Yes! Because there’s someone in our apartment!
“It’s me ,” he says loudly enough to be heard through your door. “I’m the noise in the apartment.”
Padding over, you open your bedroom door to find Jihoon standing there, holding a glass of water. His mouth is quirked though there’s more frustration in his expression than amusement. He catches sight of the baseball bat leaning against your bed and sighs. “Are you going to be like this all night?”
“You didn’t see the movie,” you mumble. “It was really scary.”
“If Wonwoo’s going to show you scary movies then it should also be his job to comfort you.”
“I don’t need comforting!”
“You literally texted me because you were too scared to leave your room,” he points out. “You were willing to sacrifice me to the intruders.”
“You’re stronger than I am,” you point out.
“You’re the one with the bat,” he retorts. “Anyway, if you hear anything else text Wonwoo about it. It’s his fault, anyway. He should be the one kept awake.”
You’re not sure why Jihoon is being so dismissive tonight, but it’s really rubbing you the wrong way. Normally he’s exceedingly patient with you, even when you do stupid things like watching movies you can’t handle.
“Are you hangry or something?” you ask.
Jihoon narrows his eyes. “No. Why?”
“Because you’re being a real jerk.”
Instead of responding, he just goes back into his room, pulling the door shut again. You decide to leave yours open this time. That way, if there are intruders, you’ll know right away and be prepared.
The minutes tick by. You try sleeping normally, then you try sleeping at the foot of the bed, then you try sleeping sideways. None of it works. Your brain just keeps replaying all the most terrifying scenes from the movie.
You occupy yourself by texting Wonwoo.
You: I hate you
Wonwoo: This happens every time.
You: Stop inviting me.
Wonwoo: You’re an adult, stop coming. Besides, I find it funny.
You: I hate you
Wonwoo: Good night 🙂🔪
You text him a few more times, but he doesn’t respond. Groaning, you throw off the blankets. You’re never going to sleep so you may as well do something productive. 3:00 a.m. seems like the perfect time to descale the coffee machine.
You’ve finished wiping the machine down and are about to run it through a cleaning cycle when you realize someone is standing in the doorway.
You scream. Water slops across the counter and your feet.
Jihoon looks back at you, startled.
“What are you doing?” you ask him, though it comes out as more of an accusation than anything else.
“What are you doing? It’s 3:00 a.m.!”
“I’m aware,” you say hotly. “I was doing some chores.”
“Now.”
“Yes, now! Why not? It’s as good a time as any.”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he gets a dish towel and sets it down over the spill.
“I can clean that.”
“It’s fine. It’s my fault for scaring you. Did you get wet?”
One of your slippers is soaked through but everything else is fine. You kick it off and take it to the balcony to dry. When you’ve returned, Jihoon has wiped up all the water and started the coffee machine.
You both wait in silence while it drips into a cup. After five agonizing minutes, the machine stops. Jihoon empties the water into the sink.
“What other chores need to get done?”
“Jihoon, it’s–” You check your phone. “Stupidly late. Or stupidly early. Just go back to sleep.”
“I can’t sleep, either. It’ll go faster if we both do it, right?”
It doesn’t take two people to do laundry, but you don’t protest when he follows you with a few odd towels.
“You were right,” you admit as he pours soap into the washing machine. “About the movie.”
“Yeah, I know.”
You wait for him to say something else, something mean, but he doesn’t. Whatever possessed him earlier in the evening seems to be gone now, because he’s back to his normal self.
“I’m sorry I canceled Roommate Night.”
“I’m sorry I was dismissive. I was just disappointed that we weren’t hanging out.”
“We’re hanging out now,” you point out. “Nothing says bonding time like laundry.”
He just laughs. “No one I’d rather do laundry with in the early morning hours.”
Neither of you have the energy to tackle the big chores, like scrubbing the shower enclosure, so Jihoon suggests watching a movie.
Instead of sitting in the living room where there are too many windows and too much open space for your comfort, the two of you climb into your bed. You put your laptop on a pillow across your knees and Jihoon scoots in close.
You’ve chosen Finding Nemo because you know it by heart and it requires little brain space on your part. Space that is being taken up by the fact that Jihoon is right next to you. He smells fresh, like citrus shower gel and toothpaste, and you want to rest your head on his shoulder.
What if you do? Maybe it will be weird, but maybe not. Maybe he won’t say anything at all.
You’re trying to triple dog dare yourself when he asks, “Are you thinking about the movie again?”
You can’t tell him what you’re actually thinking about, so you say yes.
“It really got to you, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” you whine. “It was a couple and they were alone in this house and then these people showed up and started toying with them and they got stabbed a bunch of times and these kids showed up the next day and found them and the woman woke up but her fiance was dead . It was awful.”
Jihoon chuckles, which seems like the absolute wrong response, and squeezes you to his side, which is a very good response instead. “You have a very soft heart.”
“Are you going to make fun of me?”
“No. I meant it as a compliment.”
He doesn’t release you, so you take that as a green light to lean against him. He’s so warm. You watch the screen a little longer before saying “Please don’t let me see any more scary movies.”
You both know that after a few months you’re going to forget about this and do it again. But Jihoon still nods. “Okay. Next time I’ll hide your car keys, too.”
“What do you mean ‘too’?”
He freezes. “Uh. I just meant I’ll hide them. That’s it.”
Sitting up, you ask, “Are you the reason I couldn’t find my phone?”
“It was sitting right on the kitchen counter,” he says, refusing to look at you.
But you’re not about to let him escape you so easily. “Yeah,” you say, still staring at him. “Where I never put it. Ever.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“Including my roommate deliberately placing it somewhere I wouldn’t think to look in an attempt to keep me from going out.”
Jihoon is many things, but he’s not a coward. He finally meets your gaze and there’s no regret in his. “It was Roommate Night.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Roommate Night is sacred.”
You sputter out a disbelieving laugh. “Excuse me? How many times have you rescheduled because of work ?”
“Me prioritizing work is not the same as you prioritizing your crush,” he shoots back.
Wait, what? Scrunching up your face, you ask, “What crush?”
“What do you mean ‘what crush’? Why else would you sit through movies that give you nightmares?”
“Wait, do you think I like Wonwoo? Like, like like him?”
“That sentence was grammatically horrifying. I think you set humanity back fifty years.”
“Jihoon.”
“Fine, yes. Don’t you?”
“No! I wanna punch his smug face in,” you declare. “I just go with him to movies because I want to prove I’m not a coward.”
“You are a coward.”
“I know that! He doesn’t need to know that.”
“Pretty sure he knows. And how come you’re always texting each other then?”
Grabbing your phone, you pull up your messages. “Because we love to gossip and share memes. See?”
You show him the last few days of messages, which are all just the two of you dragging Mingyu and drawing faces on photos of his abs.
“Wow,” says Jihoon, handing you back your phone.
“You really thought I had a crush on Wonwoo .”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s just…” You don’t really have a response. There’s nothing wrong with Wonwoo. It’s just that he’s not your person. Just like you know that every blind date your friends try to set up isn’t going to be the right person, either.
You have your person and he’s sitting in bed beside you.
It’s not like you started out liking Jihoon. He needed a place, you needed a place, he wasn’t creepy or messy, and it seemed like a good plan. You wanted to live alone originally but he made the case for a nicer apartment and split rent, so you went for it. A whole three months passed before you realized you were down bad for your roommate.
Now it’s been over a year and you haven’t said a word to anyone. The last thing you need is for him to find out and move away. Every time the lease comes up, you brace yourself for disappointment, but so far Jihoon seems happy to keep everything the way it is.
If he’s happy, then so are you.
He’s thoughtful, he’s kind, he looks amazing in a towel. He empties the dishwasher. What more could you possibly want? His mouth on mine , you think, staring at the outline of your legs beside each other under the blanket.
You’ve considered making a move. Sometimes he says something or does something that just makes you think maybe… and every time you’re ready to risk it. But then the feeling passes, because what if you’re totally wrong and it ruins everything? What if you ruin everything?
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why do you think something’s wrong?” you ask too quickly.
Jihoon just gives you a look. “Maybe because you said it like that. And because you’re sitting here stiff as a board. Do I make you uncomfortable?”
“I’m still weirded out by you thinking I’m into Wonwoo.”
Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’m sorry. I should have known you weren’t into tall, fit, hot guys. Because that makes perfect sense.”
No , you think. I’m into my short, fit, hot roommate.
“Why does it sound like you want me to be into him?”
“I don’t.”
“Because you lo~ove me?” you sing-song.
Sighing, he says, “No, because if you get a boyfriend I’ll eventually have to find a new roommate and that’s a hassle I just don’t want to deal with.”
“Oh.” Well, that’s pretty damning.
Reaching forward, you hit the space bar. The video starts up again and you both watch it in silence for a few minutes before Jihoon slaps the keyboard again.
“Don’t look so disappointed,” he says, twisting so he’s facing you more. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You mean like I’m just convenient to keep around?”
“Well, you are really good at cleaning the coffee maker.”
When you don’t laugh, he grabs at your sleeve. “Hey, seriously. I like living with you a lot. I’m not ready to give that up.”
You give him a weak smile. “Yeah. Me neither.”
“You don’t have to worry about scary things as long as I’m here.”
“Oh yeah? You gonna fight off all the ghosts and psychopaths?”
“Yeah,” he says seriously. “You know I’d protect you, right?”
It’s silly how his words make your heart jump. “Even if we were in a cabin in the woods?”
“Especially then.”
“We’d both die.”
“Probably. But I’d try to get you out.”
“I wouldn’t leave without you.” Because that’s the scariest part, you think. The fact that someone gets left behind. And you know that in any dangerous situation, you’d never leave Jihoon’s side. Not even if it meant sacrificing yourself.
“God, we’re so stupid,” he laughs.
You join in after a second. “Yeah…”
But the laughter dies out too early and you’re still watching each other. When did your bodies get so close? You swear you can feel the heat from his skin.
The air in your room is stifling, weighted. You should open a window or something, move away from him before you do something you’ll regret. Except you can’t look away.
Everything about him is so perfect: the curve of his dark eyes, the gentle slope of his nose. The way his lips fall open ever so slightly, showing the points of his incisors. His little “vampire teeth” you like to call them. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted him to bite you or anything, because you’re totally normal.
He seems to be studying you just as closely, hunger in his gaze.
“I’m not crazy,” you whisper. “Right?”
“You’re not crazy.” His eyes drop down to your mouth. “Can I–”
You close the distance before he can finish, pressing your lips against his. For a moment it’s calm, gentle. Then Jihoon leans up on his knees over you for leverage and the kiss becomes almost feral. Your laptop falls over on the bed but neither of you are looking at it. All you are is lips, heat, tongue, taste. A nip of his teeth against your lower lip has you whining.
“Why are you so perfect?” he asks, trying to catch his breath
“I could ask you the same thing.”
This time his fingers slide into your hair, trying to pull you closer. You kiss as though you’ll never get to kiss him again, hungry and desperate to feel him against you.
“Fuck,” he mumbles into your mouth. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?”
“A year,” you tell him, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “I’ve wanted you for a year.”
“Literally the day I met you,” he says, helping you fling the fabric away. Your hands immediately find his abs. “I thought you were into fucking Wonwoo all this time.”
“No, you idiot! Why do you think I’m always hanging around in the hallway with a question when you’re getting out of the shower?”
“Why do you think I always happen to be hungry when you’re doing yoga?”
“Oh my God,” you laugh. “Is that why you just hang around in the kitchen the entire time? So you can watch me ?”
Jihoon doesn’t look the least bit contrite as he says, “It has the best view of the living room but you can’t see me looking.”
“Pervert!” you say, slapping his bare chest with a pillow. Giggles escape you as he wrestles with your hands, trying to pull the pillow away. He’s stronger than you, but you’re squirmy enough that he gives up and just wraps his arms around you, pinning you to the headboard.
His hot breath teases your neck just under your ear. “Coming from the woman who gets off to a vibrator at 5 a.m. when she thinks I’m asleep.”
That has your face heating up. “You’ve heard that?”
“Do you know how hard it is to not just come into your room and do it myself?”
God, you wish he would have. Just the thought of Jihoon walking in on you with your legs spread as you overstimulate yourself to the thought of him has you shuddering.
Distracted as you are, you can’t stop him from tearing the pillow away this time. He immediately slots his body into the empty space, capturing your mouth with a searing kiss. The press of his knee between your legs is enough to make you whine.
“Hoon…”
“I know, baby. You want more?”
“Uhuh. Want everything.”
“You got it.”
When he starts to kiss down your neck, you throw your head back against the pillows. Jihoon follows, one hand slipping under your shirt to caress your breasts. He’s barely touched you when he freezes.
“Are you not wearing a bra?”
“I was going to bed,” you remind him.
He pulls your shirt off like it’s offended him. “You’re so fucking hot.”
It’s so frantic and cheesy that it makes you want to laugh at him, at your normally calm and collected roommate reduced to a horny mess. Only you’re not much better, you realize, as you drag your fingertips across his abs and consider how many hickeys you can put on him before he protests.
He’s barely lowered his mouth to your nipple when a loud thud makes you both jump. Heart rate spiking in terror, you listen together as the sound continues.
“What’s that?”
He groans. “The washing machine is unbalanced. Maybe if we ignore it–”
Another loud thud echoes through the apartment. If you don’t deal with it now, it’s going to wake the neighbors. Carefully, he lifts himself off of you and heads towards the bathroom, grumbling the entire time.
You might be distracted right now, but it’s not enough of a distraction to make you forget that horrid movie, so you snatch his shirt off the floor and hold it to your chest as you follow. You even grab the bat on the way out of your room, just in case.
Jihoon snorts when he sees you. “What are you going to do with that? Beat it into silence?”
He lifts the lid and shifts all the clothes around until they’re even. This time the machine goes back to humming peacefully.
“Stupid fucking thing,” he mutters.
The interruption hasn’t killed the mood exactly, but it has made you aware of what’s happening right now. Like the fact that your spectacularly hot roommate has had your tits in his mouth and plans to again the moment you’re both back in your room.
“Give me that,” he says, tugging the bat out of your hand and leaning it up against the wall. “Back to bed, gorgeous.”
You follow him while trying to organize your very muddled thoughts. It’s an insane hour, you’re both sleep-deprived. Both completely valid reasons to be concerned, even though you’re not feeling the slightest bit tired right now. Actually, you could run a marathon at the moment, hopped up on Jihoon’s attention.
“What’s wrong?” He might be horny, but he’s still got a finger on your moods.
“Maybe that was a sign,” you say.
Jihoon’s features scrunch up in confusion. “What kind of sign?”
“Like, that this is a bad idea.”
You have to give him credit for his poker face, because he manages to look only mildly concerned as he considers your words. “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”
“I don’t know. What if this screws everything up?”
Jihoon huffs out a soft laugh. “Darling, it’s too late for that. You think I’m just going to go to bed and not think of how good your mouth feels against mine? You think I’m not going to spend the rest of my life fantasizing about your hands on my dick? You think I’m not going insane right now trying not to rip that shirt away from you so I can see your perfect tits again?”
Oh. He’s always been honest, but that was still more direct than you were expecting. It does have the bonus of making your thighs tremble in anticipation.
“Well, if you’re going to say it like that …” You shyly lower his shirt to the bed, exposing your chest once more.
Jihoon approaches you like you might balk again. Despite his very clear interest, he keeps his gaze on your face, gauging. “Is this a green light, baby?”
You nod, then add, “Just promise me that you’re not going to suddenly like…move out or something in a panic.”
“There’s nowhere I plan on going where I don’t bring you with me.”
“Sappy!” Still, his confirmation makes you giddy. All this time that you’ve been orbiting him, he’s been doing the same thing. This time when you kiss him, you take your time. Focusing on the way his pouty little lips feel, the way he likes to steal your breath by kissing you harder just at the end, like he’s not quite ready to release you yet.
His hands slide up your hips, caressing your stomach for a moment before settling just under your breasts, cupping them in both hands. You’re expecting him to paw at you in the same kind of frenzy you were both experiencing before the sudden interruption, but the pause has shifted the energy between you. He seems inclined to take his time; you’re inclined to let him.
That doesn’t mean you can’t be curious, too. And as much as you want him to touch you, you can’t resist cupping him through his shorts. The weight of his cock feels so good in your hand. When you give him a slight squeeze, he reaches down to stop you.
“What are you doing?”
Your incredulous look doesn’t move him. “Pretty sure you mentioned my hand on your dick as a thing you were thinking about.”
“Not now ,” he grits out, trying to shift your grip.
“Oh, I’m sorry, is there some other time I should be giving you a handjob?”
“There’s a process–”
“Mhm.” You’re not particularly interested in his process. You just really want to make him come. As you two have been arguing, you’ve been gently caressing him through his shorts and he’s grown even harder now. When he opens his mouth to complain again, you shut him up with an energetic kiss, refusing to concede.
Finally, Jihoon’s head hits your pillows, looking like he’s already been ravished within an inch of his life. He’s so dramatic, but you love it.
“Do you admit defeat?”
A long, deep sigh is your only confirmation. Jihoon subscribes to the gentleman’s club of “please your lover before you”, which, while admirable and delightful if you’re the lover, leaves little room for creativity. You, on the other hand, belong to the “I wanna see him completely fucked up” club. While you have no doubt that his methods are sound, tonight’s win belongs to you.
The loose fabric of his shorts have concealed his girth; it’s only when you drag them down his legs that you can see the extent of his erection, pressing up against his boxer briefs.
“I knew you’d be big,” you say, feeling vindicated. There’s a drunken conversation with Soonyoung at the back of your mind involving the words “big dick energy” and your conviction that sometimes big packages come in tiny packages. It made sense at the time.
“What if I wasn’t?”
“Then I’d fuck you all the same. I’m here for you, not your dick. Well, at the moment it’s both.”
“So romantic,” he says dryly, while he tries to keep himself from rising to meet your hand. Just because he won’t be honest about it doesn’t mean he’s not affected by your touch. You’re going to enjoy this so much.
After palming him through the fabric a few more times, neither of you can wait any longer. He helps kick off his underwear, cock bobbing heavily towards his belly. Jihoon is naked in front of you after more than a year of fantasies just like this and you can’t stop staring.
“Um.”
It’s barely a murmur but you jolt back to reality. “Sorry, that’s a bit unnerving, isn’t it? Having someone just stare at your naked body?”
“Only a little.”
“Just admiring, I promise. You have no idea how much I’ve–well, I’m gonna make it weird.”
“Oh, now it’s going to be weird?”
“Shut up,” you laugh, leaning up to kiss him. It’s easy to get him to relax this way you’ve learned. Who would have thought that your normally reserved roommate is kiss-starved? (Spoiler: you.)
Dragging your mouth down his neck, you leave little toothy marks wherever you go. Not true hickeys, because you can feel his impatience, but enough to make his breath catch. One hand slips between your bodies to take his hefty cock into your grip, skin-to-skin finally. You can feel the raised veins along one side as you tease the area with your thumb.
“I’m not sure I can fit you in my mouth tonight,” you admit. “It’s been a while.”
Jihoon lets out a breathy laugh. “Hand is good. Great, in fact.”
“Okay. Let’s make it better.”
Leaning off your bed, you pull the bottom drawer of your nightstand to retrieve the bottle of lube. You don’t bother trying to hide any of the boxes inside. After all, Jihoon knows what you get up to in the early morning hours and he’s interested in what you’ve got. You force his hand out of the drawer. “Fun for another time.”
“Oh, it will be.”
Just the thought of Jihoon getting you off with your own toys is enough to make your pussy clench.
You warm the lube in your hand before giving his cock a gentle stroke that makes him gasp. God, he’s so pretty. Every upward stroke, every twist of your palm against the head of his cock gets a reaction out of him. At first you think he’s putting on a show for your benefit, but you quickly realize he’s trying to accomplish the exact opposite (and failing).
“Good, baby?”
“Yeah, good,” he answers, watching you with soft eyes. “A little firmer–ah!”
“Like that?”
He’s slick in your hand, the noises from your motions louder than the soft moans that keep slipping from him against his will. This is an image you’ll keep in your mind forever: the way his teeth keep peeking out to bite his lower lip when you squeeze just right; how his stomach flexes under your curious touch; each little gasp he tries to hide.
God, if you knew you’d get to see him like this, you would have made a move months ago.
“You don’t have to be quiet,” you tell him.
It takes him a moment to swallow back his exhale before he replies. “I’m not usually…very loud.”
You kiss him softly, tenderly, treasuring each panting breath. “That’s fine, too. I just don’t want you holding anything back.”
“I can’t. Not with you,” he admits. “You’re gonna make me come.”
“Good.”
“But–”
“We have all night,” you remind him. It’s less night than morning now; in another hour the sun will be peeking through the window and you’ll have been awake for 24 hours. Right now though, you don’t feel the least bit exhausted. Moving your hand faster, you watch Jihoon unravel in front of you.
His lovely eyes, which have been focused on you, close as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck. The soft pants of his breath catch, becoming ragged as his body tenses. The first few pulses land on your breasts, which you’ve intentionally leaned towards him. He opens his eyes just in time to see the last of his cum leak over your hand as you drag every last bit of pleasure from him.
You pull away just before he can beg you to stop. Eyes on his, you stick out your tongue and lick your fingers. The sound that escapes him is deep and almost agonized.
“Fuck. You’re insane. And perfect.”
“Award-winning combination.”
“And obnoxious.”
“Everything I strive for.” He tastes musky and salty; you’re looking forward to taking him into your mouth next time.
Jihoon moves fast for someone who just had a stunning orgasm. Rolling off the bed, he wraps his arms across your thighs and yanks you onto your back. You muffle a shriek with your hand; Jihoon just grins as he hovers over you. “My turn.”
It’s your turn to feel suddenly shy as he’s got determined eye contact with the front of your underwear, which are stuck to your skin. You attempt to close your legs, but his steel grip on your thighs won’t allow it.
“Don’t make fun of me,” you plead.
You’re expecting him to tease you but he only looks mystified. “Why would I make fun of you?”
“I don’t know. Your moans were just super hot.”
Pressing his fingers into the damp center of your panties, he asks, “You mean you got this wet just from me ?”
“Why are you so surprised?” You need more, you need friction, but he’s just rubbing circles over the fabric, testing out the extent of your arousal. “Jihoon…please…”
“It’s just…are you sure you weren’t thinking of Wonwoo?”
The question breaks you. After all, you’ve got his cum drying on your chest, his fingers touching your wet underwear, and he wants to bring this up again now ?
“Jesus fucking Christ, Jihoon! Do you want me to go stand on the balcony and scream about how hot you are? Because I will. You’re the reason I’m this wet, not him, not ever.”
Sensing he’s gone too far, Jihoon immediately tries to placate you by slipping two fingers under the seam of your underwear to graze your folds. You both groan when he feels the extent of your sticky wetness.
“I’m just trying to understand how I got so lucky.”
“You’re just my person. There doesn’t have to be another reason.”
That’s what gets him. Not you stroking his dick or biting his neck. But instead, your simple comment makes his wide cheeks flush pink. Before you can comment on it, he hides his face between your thighs.
You expect him to draw it out, to tease you for staring at him earlier, but Jihoon’s patience is as thin as yours because the moment your cunt is exposed, he pulls you to his mouth. His agile tongue dips between your folds, catching your arousal, before slowly dragging up to your clit. The moment he starts to suck on it, you feel your control shatter.
You’re not a loud lover either, but Jihoon pulls every moan and whimper from you like it’s a personal challenge. When he presses one finger deep into you, you swear you can see stars. Your hands frantically grip at the duvet to keep from yanking his hair, but he knows what you need.
Tongue circling hard around your clit, he slides another finger in with the first, fucking you on them. Your hips shift to meet him and he lets you. The twisting in your belly grows heavy, purposeful, and you fight to keep your legs steady. Who else has ever brought you this close so fast?
“I’m–right there, please Jihoon!”
But he doesn’t obey. Instead, he slows his fingers, lifting his mouth from your clit. You whine .
“I was so close,” you tell him, feeling your orgasm rapidly ebb.
“I know, baby. But it’ll be even better now.”
You want to argue that it would have been plenty good the first time when he starts moving his fingers again, thrusting slow and deep, and you forget your protests. You’re so wet : the sound is impossible to ignore or hide, but Jihoon doesn’t seem to share your embarrassment. His warm tongue laves at your clit, alternating pressure.
The orgasm he so rudely stole returns like a wildfire, making your muscles tense.
“Hoon, ah, please…”
He doesn’t speak, but you feel his pleased hum against your cunt, vibrating straight to your core. He knows he’s taking you apart and he’s thrilled about it. Instead of pulling away this time, he commits, latching onto your clit and sucking hard, fingers pressing that tender spot deep inside that has you keening, eyes squeezing shut, legs jerking closed around his head.
You get no peace. He stimulates you through every wave until you think you might cry from the intensity of it. Reaching down blindly, you touch his hair and push at him.
Jihoon stops, lifting his face to your thighs, pressing wet kisses against your trembling skin.
“How did you get so good at that?” you ask, staring up at your ceiling. There’s a stray tack that you can’t remember putting there. You really don’t care. “No, don’t tell me, actually, because it wasn’t with me and I’m gonna be jealous of all the other women you’ve gone down on before this.”
“Then let’s say I’m just a prodigy.”
You’re not sure what’s worse: acknowledging his previous partners or stroking his ego that hard. When you look down at him, you’re speechless. His face is shining with your arousal, lips wet and glossy. He doesn’t seem remotely bothered by it, but you offer him the shirt under your elbow anyway.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, rubbing his face clean. You guys are going to have to do more laundry after this.
“Good. Great. Still horny.”
“That’s good,” he replies, glancing down. “Because, ah…”
His cock is hard again, weeping small beads of pre-cum. Jihoon just gives you a vaguely embarrassed grin. “Looks like getting you off has the same effect on me.”
After this, you’re going to squirm with the sheer ridiculous delight of how stupidly gone you are on each other. Right now, you just want him to fuck you properly.
“Your magical drawer of wonders doesn’t happen to also have condoms, does it?”
God, you hope so. You rummage while Jihoon draws lazy pictures on your lower back, both of you jittery with repressed want. Finally, you surface with one, two, three condoms, placing them victoriously on the bed.
“That’s optimistic,” he remarks, but he takes one and tears into it all the same.
“You never know. Might wake up horny, too.”
Pressing his teeth gently against your ear lobe, he murmurs, “I’m looking forward to that.”
So are you. You’re still wobbly from your orgasm so you lean up against the pillows. Jihoon follows to give you a lazy kiss, his teeth nipping at your lower lip.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” you say back with a smile.
“Still good?”
Your heart could explode right now and you’d be plenty happy after just seeing his beautiful, sleepy face. “Better once you’re inside me.”
“Lube?”
“I think I’m plenty wet after that mind-blowing orgasm,” you point out, but he opens the bottle anyway.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” you assure him. “Just go slow.”
He hitches your legs up on his thighs, cock rubbing against your sensitive folds. With every rock of his hips, his cockhead touches your clit, making you whine.
“Jihoon, please, just fuck me,” you beg, grabbing at him.
He chuckles as he catches your hand in his, lacing your fingers together; with his free hand, he holds himself steady as he starts to press in.
Even with the extra lubricant, it’s a stretch. It’s just been you and your vibrator for a long time, and that’s more of a chore to tick off your list than quality time for you. As much as you want him to start fucking you already, you’re grateful for his self-control.
Poor Jihoon seems to be hanging by a thread that’s rapidly unraveling. He cards his hand through his hair, mussing it in all directions. “You’re so tight. Fuck, it’s…”
“Good?” you ask hopefully.
“Fantastic, but it’s killing me.”
“Should’ve had a smaller dick then,” you tease, with effort. His fingers did a good job of opening you up, but this is entirely different. You can feel every inch of him deep inside your core, hot and heavy and needy.
When he finally pushes all the way in, he leans over you, trembling. You’re full, yes, but his reaction seems extreme. You’re about to ask when suddenly he wraps you up in his arms, holding you to him in the tightest hug you’ve ever received.
“Jihoon?”
Hiding his face against your chest, he sighs. “Just…I never thought you’d even consider me.”
Now you understand. You run your fingers through his messy hair, putting it back into some semblance of shape. “Oh, baby. I felt the same way.”
“We’re stupid.”
“Very.”
“You feel amazing.”
“So do you. Move?”
He gives an experimental thrust, slow and gentle, but it’s enough to make you nearly bite down on his shoulder. You’ve had sex, good sex, but it’s different with someone you care deeply about (you won’t say the word, not yet, not now, but you might).
That warm post-orgasm haze hasn’t left you yet, despite the delicious pressure building in your core again. Jihoon must feel it, too, because his hips move at a lazy pace compared to the frantic way you were both tearing off clothes earlier.
Your hand slips between your bodies, finding the swollen nub that’s begging for attention. It’s almost too much stimulation coupled with the perfect ache of him inside you; you’re about to just enjoy the sensation of him and forgo the second orgasm, but Jihoon gives you a pleading look.
“Come with me? Please?”
How can you say no to that? Sucking in a sharp breath, you rub at your clit, slowly, pushing through the wave of overstimulation. Jihoon’s thrusts are sharper now, deeper. He rolls his hips in a way that has you gasping.
“Do that again.”
“Like this?”
All you can do is swear in response. He sits up on his knees for leverage, every thrust hitting that spot that makes you whimper. Your fingers circle faster, movements wet and sloppy. There’s no elegance to any of it; the two of you are just desperate to get each other there.
“Darling, please, please ,” he gasps out, every push of his cock getting more out of rhythm now.
You meet his gaze and say, “Come for me.”
He moans as he surrenders; you clench down around him, the sensation sending you over the edge as well. Your walls flutter around his girth; you can feel him throbbing even through the condom. For a moment your mind goes blissfully blank, the pleasure almost in your throat from how intensely it surges through your body.
You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. Jihoon winces as he pulls out, then disappears into the bathroom. You know you should follow, but every muscle in your body has become jelly.
By the time he returns, your breathing has evened out. Jihoon dabs at the dried cum on your breasts with a warm washcloth.
“I can clean myself,” you protest.
“I know,” he says, before continuing. He wipes your thighs gently, pausing when you hiss as the fabric grazes your center. “Hurts?”
“Just sensitive. Hey, come here.”
He obediently crawls up your body to accept your kiss.
“You’re amazing. Thank you for staying up with me.”
Laughing, Jihoon says, “If this is what happens when you see scary movies, see all the movies you want.”
“Hell, no. I’m done with that. I’ve got better things to do now.”
The post-sex exhaustion is hitting both of you, hard.
“We should wash the blanket,” he says, but there’s no motivation in it.
With languid motions, you kick it onto the floor. “After sleep. I’m so tired now.”
The sun has announced itself around the edges of your curtains, but neither of you can be bothered about it. Jihoon just slots himself against your body, both of you damp. You’re going to be so grouchy about it when you wake up, but that’s a problem for future you.
Current you has a bloodstream full of happy chemicals and a handsome man in your arms. The rest is unimportant.
Your phone chimes from the nightstand, but neither of you move. You’re already asleep.
You wake up sticky and gross and happy. Together, you and Jihoon shower, strip the bed, and move last night’s laundry into the dryer. He’s a little shy at first, but once you initiate the first kiss he becomes insatiable, finding excuses to touch your ass, your back, anywhere.
You’re batting his hand away for the fifth time as you check your phone. You’ve got a message from Wonwoo, the start of all of this.
Wonwoo: Let’s get pork belly. My apology for the movie.
You: Fine, but Jihoon is coming too
Wonwoo: Cool
“See,” grumbles Jihoon. “You’d still rather hang out with him than me.”
“It’s free food and afterwards we can come back and I’ll ride you this time.”
He stops complaining immediately. That doesn’t stop him from being extra touchy the moment you’re all together. He keeps finding ways to brush your hip, your thigh, one hand resting on you at all times like he’s afraid he’ll lose you.
It doesn’t help that you can’t stop looking at him with your insides all muddled up like there’s been an earthquake in your stomach. It feels like everyone who looks at you is going to know how giddy you are over him.
If Wonwoo suspects anything though, he’s quiet about it. The three of you make small talk until the food comes, and then it’s silent eating. Jihoon’s hand is resting on your thigh under the table, his thumb tracing lazy circles that you can feel through your jeans. It’s not at all unreasonable that your brain starts conjuring up memories from last night and how it would feel to have them thrusting into you again.
You’re so enraptured by your thoughts that you miss your own mouth and press hot pork belly straight into your chin. Jihoon smirks as he hands you a napkin. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“There’s a movie playing,” starts Wonwoo, and you’re already shaking your head before Jihoon can say anything.
“No way. No more scary movies for me. I put Jihoon through the ringer last night.”
Jihoon gives you a sly grin, the first real reaction he’s had so far. “In more ways than one.”
“That’s…”
In his straightforward style, Wonwoo points his chopsticks between you both. “You two hooked up?”
“Uh.”
“Is that why you didn’t answer my texts until after noon? You guys stayed up all night fucking?”
“You could say it nicer,” you hiss, looking around the restaurant. But it’s just the three of you and the owner, who is clanking pots and pans in the kitchen.
“Thank God ,” says Wonwoo, relaxing into his chair. “I thought I was going to have to keep bringing you with me to scary movies forever.”
You and Jihoon share confused looks. “What does that mean?” you ask.
He speaks like he’s talking to two very baffled children. “It means, I was scaring you on purpose so that Jihoon could comfort you. Soonyoung and I have had a bet going for over a year now on who would make a move first. You two are impossible .”
A breath. Then you lunge over the dishes. Slapping Wonwoo’s arm repeatedly, you yell, “You son of a bitch! You’ve been scaring me for almost a year!”
The owner looks alarmed by the sudden noise. Jihoon tries to wrangle you while apologizing to her, but you’re too fired up to go easily.
“Slap your boyfriend! He’s been ignoring you for a year!”
Jihoon jumps out of reach before you can turn on him. “I wasn’t aware of this! I wasn’t trying to ignore you!”
You drop back into your seat with a huff, stealing the last of the jeon . Mashing it into your mouth, you say, muffled, “I hate you both.”
“You don’t hate me,” Jihoon insists. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“How?”
“However you want.”
“O-kay,” interrupts Wonwoo, massaging his shoulder. “Before you two start making out, I need clarification. Who started it? There’s money on the line.”
You look at Jihoon. “Uh. Both of us?”
“At the same time,” he confirms.
Wonwoo sighs. “That’s so unhelpful. That’s just a draw then.”
“Well, you did kiss me first,” remembers Jihoon.
Pounding his fist on the table, Wonwoo takes his phone out of his pocket. “That’s it, I win. Have all the pork belly you want, Soonyoung is paying.”
As Wonwoo calls Soonyoung to gloat, Jihoon returns to your side.
“Hey. You’re not really mad at me, are you?”
“Of course not. But you’re still going to make it up to me, right?”
“Thoroughly,” he confirms.
You’re not ready to let him off the hook so easily though. “It might take a while.”
Leaning forward, he whispers in your ear, “Sweetheart, for you I’ll stay up all night.”