trigger warning: if ual situations of a not entirely consenual nature bothers you, please don't read. 

Sora couldn’t wait for the party at Jongdae’s the next weekend. She spent most of that week over at Jongdae’s apartment with him, Jongin, and Sehun. The three of them played video games competitively, and, when they were feeling generous, they let Sora play too. They always hated letting her play, however, because she always beat them. She’d learned how to play just so she would have an excuse to do something with Jongdae, but in the end she’d liked it quite a lot and had gotten really good.

“I can’t believe you beat me again!” Jongin wailed, throwing down his controller and flopping back against the pillows they had thrown in the floor. “You’re a girl, Sora! Start acting like it!”

“Why don’t you go running home to mummy?” she teased, which earned her a pillow to the face. She laughed. Hanging out with the guys was nice, even if it would have been nicer if it had just been Jongdae and her.

Jongdae’s parents appeared in the living room then, Mr. Kim rolling a suitcase behind him. He was distractedly checking his wallet to make sure he had his money and his car keys.

“Have a good weekend,” Mrs. Nam said, bending down to peck her son on the forehead. She did the same to Sora, who was like a daughter to her. “Don’t let those silly boys destroy the apartment, okay dear?”

Sora laughed. “I’ll try. I can’t make any promises, though. You know he doesn’t listen to me.”

Mrs. Nam laughed, bade them all goodbye, and then she and her husband left. They were officially on their own until Sunday night.

They stayed up for most of Friday night, playing video games and watching horror movies, but eventually Sora had to say goodnight and return to her own apartment down the hall. Even if Jongdae was like family, she knew neither her mother or Jongdae’s mother would really be comfortable with them having a sleepover, something they hadn’t done since they were very small children. 

She was back over around noon on Saturday. Like Jongdae had said, the party was just a small get-together of his circle of friends back in high school, but there was still some preparation to get done. Sora helped make some snacks – she wasn’t a very good cook, but she was a hell of a lot better than Jongdae, Jongin, or Sehun – while Jongin and Sehun went out to purchase the alcohol that would be required.

“You don’t have to do so much, you know,” Jongdae told her. With the rowdy twins Sehun and Jongin out of the way, the apartment was very quiet. Jongdae was cleaning up as Sora was finishing her cooking. “It’s not that big of a party. People will probably just be drinking anyway.”

“And food will help them not throw up all over your apartment,” Sora replied archly. “Unless you want to explain to your mom why there’s vomit all over her couch?”

Jongdae actually winced. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted. “Good thinking, Sora. Since when were you actually smart?”

“That stings, oppa,” she grumbled. “And anyway, I’m a lot smarter than you.”

Jongdae chuckled. “I doubt that.” But then he moved off to tidy up the bathroom so she was left seething in the kitchen by herself.

It was dusk by the time Jongin and Sehun returned, loaded down with enough alcohol to supply an army and then some. They had also stopped for ice cream, which they generously shared with Jongdae and only reluctantly shared with Sora. She was as much a little sister to them as she was to Jongdae, and they treated her as such.

After the ice cream had been eaten, they broke out the alcohol. Sora pointed out that nobody had arrived yet, but the boys didn’t need much of an excuse to start drinking, and the first bottle of soju was opened.

One bottle turned into two, and then three. They were already working on their fourth bottle between the four of them when the first of the guests showed up. As more and more people crowded into the apartment, the liquor disappeared at an alarming rate.

Sora wasn’t much of a drinker. She’d done it before, of course, as had most everybody she knew at school. That didn’t mean she was particularly fond of it. She wasn’t a big girl and she was inexperienced, which meant that she reached her limit long before Jongdae’s older and more experienced friends did.

One of them, a rosy-cheeked boy that Sora vaguely remembered from a few years before, threw his arm around her shoulders. He was pretty drunk, nearly on Sora’s level. But where the alcohol had made her looser and more relaxed, it had left him overly amorous, with no social boundaries. “Sora!” he practically crowed. “Since when did you get so pretty?”

Sora laughed at the compliment even though she didn’t really know who this guy was. “It’s sort of an insult that you only think I’m pretty when you’re drunk, oppa. I need to find someone who always thinks I’m pretty.” This elicited a laugh from the nearby guests watching the scene.

“You tell him!” one girl said proudly.

Another boy called out, “I’ve always thought you were pretty, Sora!”

“Why thank you!” she called back, unable to even pick out who had given her the compliment. “If I knew who you were, I might thank you a bit more properly!”

There were several oohs from the assembled crowd, several people laughing.

The boy quickly shoved his way forward. Like the first, Sora remembered his face but not his name. She’d never been good with names anyway, and her inebriated state made it easier to forget them. The boy grinned and puckered up, as if waiting for a kiss as a reward for the compliment.

What he got was Jongdae’s palm pressed against his face. “Keep your lips to yourself,” he warned, and he was only half-joking. “Sora’s just a kid.”

The boy groaned dramatically but in the end he laughed it off with everyone else and wandered back over to his seat.

Sora, on the other hand, found herself irrationally angry. “I’m not a kid, Jongdae,” she snapped as he tried to drag her off towards the kitchen, where the alcohol was all set up. “I’m going to graduate high school this year. I’m not that much younger than you!”

Jongdae ignored her grumbling, however. He poured two shots of soju, one for her and one for himself. Then he slid her glass over to her. “Drink,” he ordered.

Sora hesitated. This would make her tenth or eleventh shot – she had lost count already. The room was spinning and she knew that she was swaying dangerously when she walked, but, since it was Jongdae giving it to her, she couldn’t refuse. She took the shot and tossed it back in one go, wincing as it burned on the way down.

He grinned when he saw that she’d drunk it, slamming his own empty glass back on the counter. “Don’t go kissing my friends,” he warned. “They’re no good for you.”

“So who is good for me?” Sora retorted, but Jongdae didn’t answer, just poured her another shot.

It was probably close to dawn by the time the last of the stragglers left Jongdae’s apartment, having called a taxi to take them home. The place was a wreck, with empty soju bottles and snack trays littering every surface. Jongin and Sehun had passed out in a heap on the sofa, one of them snoring loudly.

“I’m so tired,” Sora moaned, bending down to pick up some of the empty glass bottles and nearly toppling over. She’d never been this drunk before, and even the simplest of tasks had become difficult.

Jongdae chuckled at her lack of coordination, hurrying to help her up. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “We can clean it up tomorrow.”

Instead of answering, Sora blurted out the question that had been bothering her since earlier. “Why didn’t you let me kiss that guy earlier? He was cute. Who knows? Maybe we would’ve even hit it off?”

Jongdae just looked at her. Sora knew he held his liquor well, but he was far past his own limit. There was a blush in his cheeks and he swayed back and forth as he stood there, staring at her.

Then he bent down and kissed her.

Sora went sort of rigid at the contact, eyes wide open in shock. Was he kissing her? Was the Kim Jongdae really kissing her?

But his lips were against hers, hard and insistent, and she had to conclude that he really was kissing her. She allowed her eyes to close, but they snapped open again immediately. She was too dizzy to close her eyes.

The whole thing felt surreal. It wasn’t right for her to be standing there in the trashed living room while Jongin and Sehun snoozed on the couch, with one of Jongdae’s hands around the back of her neck and his tongue breaking the seam of her lips. He tasted like alcohol and the snacks she had made earlier, not at all the way he was supposed to taste.

She broke away. “J-jongdae,” she began, but then he was kissing her again and nothing more could be said.

They stumbled down the short hallway to Jongdae’s bedroom at the back of the apartment. The second the door closed behind them he had her slammed up against it, one of his knees wedged between her thighs as his hands began to explore beneath her loose t-shirt.

Sora couldn’t think straight. Everything was fuzzy and she couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Jongdae’s hands on her burned like fire and there was a strange ache between her legs, and his persistent mouth never left hers. He kissed her senseless, hands fumbling with the button on her jeans, sliding them down over her thighs.

She ended up on her back on his bed, Jongdae hovering over her with a dark, lusty look in his eyes, and Sora felt an immeasurable panic well up inside her. What was going on? This was all wrong! This wasn’t how she had wanted things to happen. They were both so drunk and the bed seemed to be thrashing back and forth beneath her, threatening to tip them into the floor as if to tell them they shouldn’t be doing this.

“J-jongdae,” she stammered again, and she could hear the threatening tears in her own voice.

Jongdae stopped, looking at her in an unfocused sort of way. He didn’t even seem like her trusted friend anymore. “Sora?” he asked uncertainly. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

She swallowed thickly. “No,” she whispered, and she could barely hear her own voice. “Don’t stop.”

That was all the invitation Jongdae needed and he set to work again, slipping long fingers inside her.

Sora bit back the tears. This was wrong, all wrong. This wasn’t what she wanted. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be between them.

She excused herself to the bathroom the second it was over, feeling empty and dirty and used up inside. Jongdae had fallen asleep when she came back out, hopelessly tangled up in the sheets. Sora didn’t want to stay. She hastily yanked on her clothes, trying to ignore the painful ache that permeated every muscle, and left the house quietly.

Her own apartment was quiet when she got back, her parents and Dami still sleeping peacefully. Even though she was exhausted, Sora took a shower and scrubbed until her skin was pink, trying to rid herself of the prickling sensation on her skin. When she finally crawled into bed, the tears really set in, and she cried herself to sleep. 

This is not condoning in any way. I feel like, even though this wasn't in the traditional sense because she told him yes, it is a type of .