Prologue (1/2)

When I Was Yours (Kim Jongin x Reader)

Tumblr link: https://moonlightjongin.tumblr.com/post/611870799434072064/when-i-was-yours-prologue  

                                                                                               

  One could argue that an underlying interest in your professors had been laying dormant since your senior year but you’d have to quell that theory in its tracks because as it stood, a high school teacher happened to be very separate from a college professor – especially in their attractability factor – and by no means of exaggeration, you promise that not a single one of your high school teachers holds a candle to the professor you currently have the hots for.

You’ll introduce him and your sticky situation in a little while, but for now, you know you’ll need to take a walk down memory lane in the hope of introducing a few key characters and giving them a little backstory, so their present day behavior doesn’t come as too much of a surprise.  

The truth of the matter was, high school you… well, she was a distant creature, miles away from your current self. Back then, you used to be best friends with your mortal enemy, so it goes without saying that things can change, that people certainly change.

He, Kim Jongin – the very bane of your existence – is a perfect example of that. As much as you pity her, high school you never saw the betrayal coming, she couldn’t even contemplate the thought of being hurt by Jongin, or the thought of the supposedly solid foundation of their friendship cracking underneath her feet, being abandoned out at sea, left without a paddle by the person she considered closest to her.  

He’d always been a pain in the , but you never thought he’d be capable of hurting you the way he had. You suppose you learned an important lesson from the ordeal and it’s that no matter how well you think you know a person, they can surprise you. 

Though, more prominently, that no matter how close you think you are with a person and how much trust you’ve placed into them, they can so easily tear that trust apart, tear you apart if they feel their ends justify their own means.

Truth is, people . The earlier you learn that lesson, the safer you’ll be. That’s something you’ll hold to these days at least.

You’d never been a person who took much note of popularity lists or high school reputations of any kind – there were a million and one other things to be focusing on, for sure, but one thing you’d always thought you’d be assured of was a senior year that would pass by smoothly, the easy assumption you’d slip under the radar as you had every grade, prior.

The last thing you expected was to become the protagonist of your best friend’s ‘revenge’ agenda, have the entirety of your school have your name on their lips months before graduation; equipped with fully formed opinions of who you were as a person, and namely who you’d screw to keep your name on everyone’s lips. How you’d play a convincing act of a hardworking, studious girl who mostly wanted to keep in the background, but secretly enjoyed playing with people’s hearts and minds, stringing them along whenever it suited you, someone who desired attention above all else, even to the point of throwing her supposed friends – and love interests – to the sharks.

Those being: the puppet master himself, Kim Jongin, and the quarterback with a – previous – heart of gold, Oh Sehun.

Ask anyone around and you’ll hear tales of how they’d always been such close friends, like peas in a pod, inseparable… until you strode into the scene and placed a giant wedge into their friendship, for no reason other than the falsified assumption you enjoyed playing with people’s hearts and minds, and certainly, you’ll hear all about it taking them a good year to reconcile and reach the point they’re at now.

But the truth was, they hadn’t been friends, at any point prior to now. Ever. They’d be in close contact often, because as much as he mocked cliques and high school stereotypes, Jongin had joined the football team alongside Sehun, he’d just been mad it was Sehun who scored the higher, more prized position on the team.

It was his fatal flaw in actuality, he just had to be the best at everything. You knew where it stemmed from – he had a freakishly high IQ, and parents that had always expected the best from him, but even he should’ve known where to draw the line and that was at stupid high school sports teams, and the inarguable fact that he wouldn’t best a guy who’d been playing said sport all his life when Jongin had just taken it upon himself to start playing.

Sehun – who would be too sweet natured and perhaps ditzy to register anything said as so, yes, but that didn’t change the fact that Jongin would sit there and throw insult after insult at him any time they did interact, nor negate the fact that they were anything but close friends, back then.

They’re legitimate friends now, of course, and not-so-ironically – as this was probably the sole deciding factor for him in terms of befriending Sehun – Jongin’s also wormed his way into Sehun’s contact list of all eligible university hotties on offer, which is a feat in itself because when you knew him, as much as he’d showcased attraction to them on occasion, he could barely even look half these girls in the eye, and couldn’t go five seconds without being the he was and throwing some backhanded compliment their way.

And no, you don’t miss him, or the friendship he so easily threw down the drain. You’ve spent too long mourning it, mourning a man that doesn’t even exist anymore and probably never did.  

Actually, if you could go back in time and talk to senior-year you, you’d say one word. Run.

Run, there’s a reason you’re the only person he’ll call his friend. And it’s not because you’re the only one ‘smart enough’ to keep up with him and his know-it-all mouth.

Run, you’re not as special to him as he’d like to make you think. Just ‘convenient’.

Run, if the situation called for it and he deemed the prize worthy enough, he’d turn on you the minute he got the chance, also.  

Back then, you know you’d have refuted with several ‘buts’.

But as much as he may only stick to having you as a friend, you know he’s just a bit awkward with other people, because he’s always felt othered because of his intellectual prowess; that if you needed any testament of his gentle and loving nature, you’d just need to take one look at the way he’d treat animals and those in need.

How he’d offer a helping hand to you without a second thought, even if he was beyond busy himself. Stop whatever it was he was doing and make his way over to you as soon as he possibly could.

But he promised that no matter what happened, you’d always have each other.

And do you know what, senior-year you? He lied.

But–

All the attention and the niceness and the sweetness he swore he reserved for you only persisted long enough for him to set his sights on something else, and you were dropped cold turkey? Yeah, you know. All too well. 

No reminders are necessary from the manifestation of senior-year you, and no memories looked at through a rose-colored lens will take his actions away, either. You really need to stop trying to do so.

It only ends up hurting and confusing you further. 

As you exhale harshly, casting a stray glance at the soft brown hair of the professor you swear you’re not having intimate relations with, you wonder if the senior-year ordeal with Jongin has set the basis for your entire life, that because of what transpired with him, you’re only able to truly trust those that have as much to risk as you do on the romantic sphere. People that are in a state of maturity that senior-year and present day Jongin surely lack.

It’s a weird situation in itself, your professor has the similar gift-slash-curse as Jongin of being too intelligent for his own good, but has taken it several steps further, having graduated early and having accepted a position of teaching he’s not even sure he’s ready for, purely because he can’t see himself doing anything else as useful with his time, besides, you know, finding the cure for cancer, or something.

He’s only a few years older than yourself, and you’re not of high school age any longer, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s your professor and you of all people realize that.

He’s always been the voice of reason here too, you’re the one that approached him first, you’re the one that struggles the most in staying away from him, so you feel that if anyone is to shoulder the blame of the you and your professor becoming a thing, thing, it’s you.

You’d even go as far as to argue that he’s healthier for you than Jongin ever had been, and no, that’s not just because you’re going to be holding a life-long grudge against Jongin or anything.

It’s the truth. He ed you up, intentionally.

You’ll never forgive him.

 

Exactly 2 Years ago, 
Senior year of High School – probably a Thursday: Noon.

Jongin’s arm snakes around your waist, as he pulls you plush against him. “What are you poisoning your digestive system with today I wonder?” He starts, before he stills, following your gaze, wanting to know what has captured your attention so wholly, to the point you’re about to hold up the cafeteria’s lunch line.

“I still can’t believe you have a crush on him,” he then groans. The peeved flicker he sends to Oh Sehun’s form goes completely amiss to you, because you’re too busy staring at the way his newly-dyed blonde locks flop slightly in front of his much too dreamy eyes. “He was nice to you, what, one time?”

“One time more than you’ve ever been,” you grumble, flicking his hands off you and dragging him towards your designated table. Jongin then finally gets to eye your meal, features contorting into a disgusted expression as he pulls out his pre-packed lunch, and its very picture of health.

‘I’m not risking food poisoning for anyone thanks,’ he’d say, whenever someone would ask why he’d accompany you to the lunch line if he’d never actually get anything, then you’d ask the same thing, but include the factor of his already prepared lunch. He’d just mumble something in response like, ‘I wouldn’t want you to get lost. Or whatever.’

It was cute in its own, odd, Jongin manner of existing.

“Plus he’s like a total manwhore,” he continues, deciding he’s not finished. “Even if he means well the majority of the time, he can hardly keep it in his pants–”

“You sound like you’re talking from first hand experience there,” you sing in interruption, showing him your pearly whites, which considering your sweet tooth and inability to say no to sweet treats, bothers him to this day.  

Ruined teeth are his main argument of you slowing down on the sweet treats, but you’ve not been affected by cavities until this day and you think it’s something that will stay that way, regardless of whether you have a treat here and there, not constantly, like he exaggerates.

He just doesn’t eat anything fun, ever. It’s all health, health, health with Jongin.

“Ugh, speak of the devil,” Jongin then pipes up, but it seems your ‘that’s Sehun’s cologne’ senses are tingling way ahead of him. 

But god, does he smell good.

They both do, obviously, but it’s Sehun you have the hots for, not your know-it-all best friend. It hits differently.

“Hi, Y/N.”

You try your hardest not to choke on your sandwich, having realized he was making his way over to your table yes, but certainly not expecting him to greet you directly, and first. Usually Jongin’s the one he’d be talking to if he ever did make his way towards the two of you.

“H-hello Sehun,” you say, forcing your head up to make direct eye contact with him, thanking the seat for the fact you’ll be able to stay upright this way, because if you had to do it standing, with Oh Sehun this close a proximity…

Jongin glances between the two of you, tsking. “I know she was a middle-school mathlete and all but no she won’t help you with your algebra homework Sehun, sorry.”

You elbow him. He loves telling people this, even though you want it forcibly removed from the memory of everyone who does know about it, and want it to be the last piece of information someone who hadn’t known stumbles upon.  He even keeps a photo of mathlete you in his wallet out of ‘pride’, but you know it’s just there for him to be able to tease you. You hate him sometimes, you really do.  

A smirk makes its way onto Sehun’s features and you think, great. Because you’ve seen that expression before and you know what it means. Yeah maybe he won’t be keeping a photo of mathlete you in his wallet like your demented best friend, but it’s not a fact he’s going to be forgetting any time soon, is it?

Plus, you have a massive crush on the guy. He’s the last person you want to have knowledge of your dreaded mathlete past.  

“I’m not here for that, Jongin. I came with an invite – the greatness of this season calls for a celebration, wouldn’t you say?”

You quite liked winter yourself but phrasing it like that seemed a little excessive… then it dawns on you. Season, football. They’d done particularly well this time round, so they wanted to throw parties… of course. Was he ever thinking of anything else? You really needed to brush up on your football knowledge at this rate, seeing as it mattered so much to him and you really did want to have more conversations with him.

“I know you’re probably not even that into sports to be celebrating with us, but I throw a lot of parties and never see you around, Y/N. I’d like to see you at this one.” He leans in closer, crouching so he’s ear level with you, lowering his tone of voice, the feeling of his breath against your ear leaving shivers in its wake. “There’ll be cupcakes, seeing as I heard you like sweet things.” 

 

  “He knows I like sweet things,” you say dreamily, leaning back on your bed, wondering quite merrily what else he knows about you, because until that moment, you thought it only extended as far as your name. And even more so it has you wondering if there’s actually a chance for you and Sehun after all. 

You’d spent a long time convincing yourself there wasn’t. So had Jongin, actually.

But he had ulterior motives, like always. He’d always been grumpy about the thought of another man coming into your life and whisking you off your feet, he was overprotective like that. No one knew you as well as he did, and he’d gotten used to being the most important to you.

He’d get over it eventually, you both knew that.

“Everyone knows you like sweet things,” Jongin scoffs from your desk chair, pulling the beak of the paper crane he’d made from the instruction sheet of your Mandarin homework backwards and forwards, eyes everywhere but your face. “You’ve had a bag of those disgusting frosted strawberry things on you at any given moment since, like, second grade or something.”  

You know it always ends in an argument that gets so intense you don’t talk for three days, so you hold your tongue. But they’re so far from disgusting, and whilst he may be too smart for his own good, his taste buds are far from it.  “Are we going?”

He still won’t look up from his paper crane and at this point you know he’s sulking. You’re not sure why exactly. Probably the thought of having to interact with Sehun for an extended period of time. “I hate parties.”   

“You hate everything,” you groan. “Yet are somehow simultaneously involved in all the everythings that you hate.”

“It’s a defense mechanism,” he mutters. “Can’t be taken down by something you’ve already conquered.” 

“Jongin,” you whine, and he glances up at this, cursing himself for it. He’d never been able to resist your puppy eyes. “You know you don’t want me to arrive at my first high school party alone. It’s taken me this long to even get invited, and it’ll be my last chance seeing as it’s senior year.”

Jongin rolls his eyes at you. “They’re so ing stupid, though. Not even worth the effort. But okay, only because it’s you.”

You send him your sweetest smile.  

“But it’s just because I want to see you in a skimpy outfit. And help you choose one, seeing as I know you buy them, but never wear them.”  He gets up from your desk chair and makes his way to your closet, peeking through your articles of clothing, until he’s met with what he’s looking for. “And here we are.”

“That’s because school is, you know, school. There’s a dress code and all…”

“We have a uniform, Y/N,” Jongin reminds you, blankly. “Honestly contrary to being such nerds, we do go out a lot. Yet you still never wear anything daring.”

“Why would I need to wear a skimpy outfit to this party? I have so many cute dresses that don’t show an excessive amount of and thigh to get the point across, as well, you know.”

He tilts his head at your expression. “He’s only inviting you because he wants to get into your pants, you know that right? Guys like him have a one track mind, and eyesight. Gotta dress to impress to get anywhere with him, baby.”

“He’s not just inviting me to get into my pants,” you mutter. “You’re just saying that because you want him to be a stereotypical high school jerk, but we both know he’s not.”

Jongin puffs out a breath, grumbling to himself. “Whatever the case, I don’t get the fascination. I’m way hotter. And way smarter. You should be standing in front of your closet planning your iest outfit that you’d be wearing for me and surprising me with it tomorrow, yet we’re here picking an outfit together for you to wear to show off in front of Oh Sehun, instead. That .”

He really liked to draw the flirting thing out when he got started with it, by the way. “So smart you alienate every person who shows interest,” you sing. “Plus you’re my best friend and it’s just… weird to even think about.”  

His eyes narrow at you in contemplation, before he looks away, scoffing slightly. “Even if he means well, I did tell you that he’s a huge playboy, but you keep acting like you don’t hear me. I’m more worried about you falling too fast for him and getting hurt, than anything. Truly, if anyone’s going to corrupt you, it should be me, we both know that. Just on the prospect of safety.”

But you only roll your eyes. “Yeah right. We might joke around from time to time but at the heart of the matter, there’s too much to ruin to even contemplate the thought of actually going through with anything. We both know that.”

“Like your bedsheets?” He seems to nod in agreement. “Or your lips? – That patch of your neck I just know is your sweet spot? Sure, there are a lot of ways I want to ruin you, but unlike him, I don’t need to break your heart to do it.”

Case in point right there. “You just like flirting with me. You won’t actually do anything.”

“Come over to mine tomorrow night instead of going to that party and let’s see,” he sings, pulling you up onto your feet, teasing smile painting his lips. 

“Ugh,” you mutter, shrugging his hands off you, and making your way to your closet, Jongin in tow.  

“Otherwise let’s find you your iest outfit, entirely for my benefit, not captain quarterback.” 

 

  Jongin’s eyes trail from the soft waves of your hair to the off white color of the dress you’re wearing that cuts off mid-thigh; how it cinches in at your waist, how its lace bodice gives way to a choker that’s attached to its neck and nods in approval. “Man, have I got taste,” he sings.

“Get in the car,” you grumble.

“What, you’re not going to check me out, too?” He whines. 

You give him a non committal once over as you haul him into the passenger seat, willing the taunt of him still not having his driving licence to the back of your mind. Maybe you do pick on each other too much as is, maybe you should stop teasing him so much. “You clean up nicely.”

He scoffs. “I look like a freaking snack tonight, stop pretending.”

“If it weren’t so morbid I’d laugh at the thought of those being your last words if this car were to crash.”

“You know it’d only crash because I’m looking this damn edible and you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

Nah, you’re definitely going to keep picking on him.

 

  Jongin spends a little time greeting his old friends and acquaintances you vaguely know by name but haven’t really interacted with, hearing their chorus of ‘wows’ and ‘who’s this, is she new?’, resisting the urge to tell some of them you’d been at the same school since second grade and were always glued to Jongin’s side so how they could not put two and two together, but then you wonder if you really look that different to them right now simply because you’re wearing contacts and what you assumed was party-appropriate makeup as opposed to neutral, everyday tones like at school, and the fact that your uniform isn’t covering the entirety of your body.

Maybe it’s time to ditch the glasses for contacts? But you thought the nerdy best friend look the two of you sported at school was quite cute as it was, with your matching glasses and all.  

So maybe not.

“Are we late?” You ask in worry.

“Does it matter? Not like anyone’s clock watching. I’m sure lover boy will be making his way over any minute now.” 

“Y/N!” Sehun makes his way over, and Jongin grumbles, seeming to be peeved that he was correct in his prediction. Sehun nods at Jongin. “Jongin,” he says, before his eyes flit back towards you and your… outfit?

Yeah no, that’s not where his eyes are resting at the current moment.

“Her eyes are up here,” Jongin says, as if he’s only just remembering that other people will be seeing you in your skimpy outfit as well as him, and it’s not an observation he’s all that happy with. “It’s not nice to make a lady feel objectified on your, what, third conversation with her? Not that any of your interactions have had much substance as is, but…”

Sehun clears his throat, interrupting Jongin as he does. “You look beautiful, Y/N. Seriously.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, blush tinting your cheeks. 

Noticing you and Sehun have been edging closer in proximity to the point your hands are brushing, Jongin decides to pipe up once more. “What’s the ritual circle in the living room for, Sehun?”

“Seven minutes in heaven,” Sehun says, smiling softly at you. There’s a twinkle in his eyes, a playful gleam that almost wills you closer. “Want to join us?”

“Some archaic game from the 1950s or something,” Jongin butts in, noticing your dazed expression, as if you don’t know what seven minutes in heaven is. 1953, he then mouths to you, as though it’s killing him to not be getting into the specifics, which it probably is, he stores facts like an encyclopedia.

Thank you for another random fact I never knew I needed, you grumble back, sarcastically, noticing you’ve started to do the same since becoming friends with him.

“It’s still commonly played,” Sehun says, almost in countenance, and Jongin raises an eyebrow.  

“Sure, we’ll play,” you say just before Jongin can open his mouth and tell Sehun otherwise, dragging Jongin to the circle that’s formed.

“So the deal is, we’re playing with a little bit of a twist. We spin the bottle and whoever it lands on first must enter the closet. Person one spins the bottle that will choose their partner, but the second person the bottle lands on can either elect themselves to go into the closet, or pick someone else for person one and dare them to go through with it, regardless of who it is they choose.
You spend seven minutes exactly in the closet with them or the person they pick for you and you can do anything. From a simple kiss, to making out to full on .” His eyes seem to flit to you as he says this and you feel Jongin tense up from beside you. “Granted it’s a quickie by definition, of course,” he follows on, smirking a little.  

“Or as long as he’s capable of lasting,” Jongin sings from beside you, and you elbow him.

 

  “Y/N,” Sehun says as the bottle he’d set to spin slows down and lands on you. Which of course it does. Your first high school party ever and of course you’re picked first for the game. “Looks like you’re up first.”

He hands you the bottle, his hand brushing against yours as you take it from him and set it down on the floor, setting it off. It spins and spins and spins until it begins to slow and slow and slow some more before it finally lands on…

Jongin.

The same Jongin who seems to breathe a sigh of relief, but you feel an ounce of disappointment bubble within you, now knowing there’ll be no kissing – or otherwise taking place.

Hell even if it wasn’t Sehun it’d landed on, you were looking forward to mindlessly making out with someone for once.    

“Want to spin again?” Sehun asks, as if picking up on your momentary disappointment. 

“There’s no one she’d rather have the bottle land on,” Jongin says snootily. “I mean, look at me.”

He waits for approximately half a second before he gets up onto his feet and says a: “Anyway, of course I elect myself.”

“Fair enough,” Sehun says, seeming to be holding back a sigh. “Follow him into the closet, then, Y/N. Seven minutes starts from the moment you get in the closet and shut the door.” He stops you momentarily as you begin the pursuit towards the closet. “And meet up with me after the game finishes, if you’d like.”

This time you certainly notice the way Jongin’s eyes narrow at Sehun’s proximity as he stalls his own journey towards the closet.

“Guess I’ll see you then, then,” you say, hoping it sounds breezy, and slightly carefree, rather than ‘I’m totally freaking out right now’, as you’re, you know, totally freaking out right now. 

 

  “I know we’re not actually going to kiss or anything–”

“Hold up,” Jongin starts. “We’re not?” 

“We’re best friends, best friends don’t do that kind of . Plus I had coffee before we set off,” you supply, like it’s all the answer you need. “You hate coffee.”

He almost sprouts off into his ‘actually I like – and only like – coffee a very specific way with a very specific coffee to milk ratio and can only drink it as such’, which also translates as: he hates coffee. There’s no argument if every sip you take regardless of how milky the damn cup is, makes you cringe like you’ve just put an especially sour lemon in your mouth. “Actually–” 

“You hate coffee,” you emphasize. “We’ve been over this multiple times already. Your requirements to drink coffee are too specific for you to accurately call that enjoyment and that’s final!”

“And you’ve wasted an entire minute,” he huffs out, leaning against the back of the closet, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You’re serious,” you then whisper, noticing the pout on his lips, that’s only deepening by the moment, knowing you must look as flabbergasted as you currently feel. “You actually came in here with the intention of kissing me?”

“Yeah,” Jongin says easily. “Seemed like a great way to spend six minutes of my day. Six minutes and lessening,” he reminds in that same pouty tone.  

“But Jongin that’s–” Not what best friends did? Not how your friendship worked? Not like the two of you even liked each other like that?

“Us wasting time with every word either of us speak, yeah, I know, I’m counting the seconds too. So how about we get to it, my dear Y/N? What could go wrong?”  

Only a lot. Everything the two of you shared, even? It was no lie that Jongin was attractive and you were all for kissing strangers a moment ago, but this was your best friend. For some reason that was different.

Jongin was off limits in every sense of the meaning. He always would be. Even if he looked particularly gorgeous at this close a proximity, and actually had very kissable looking lips.

That you’d never really paid much attention to prior to this moment.

“What are you so afraid of?” He asks, chuckling. The sound of his laughter like the gentle caress of an ocean wave on a particularly sunny day, suddenly. “Falling in love with me?” 

“Whatever,” you say, chuckling. Like that would ever happen. For either of you.  

“Can I kiss you, then?” 

“I guess, seeing as it’s kind of the point of the game and all…”

 

  The shadows of light between the clothing make the planes of his face more defined than you remember, but it’s most likely the proximity, and as your eyes fall to his ever plump, pillowy lips, he edges closer, cupping your cheek, his lips making their journey towards your own, before he engulfs them with his own.

The sound that bubbles in the back of your throat surprises you too, but it makes Jongin’s grip on you tighten, as if you’re a rope that’s just been thrown from the shore and he’s been on the verge of drowning out at sea for the past few minutes, clinging to you as if you’re his very lifeline. His fingers thread through the soft waves of your hair, as he gently nips at your lower lip, begging for you to grant him entrance.

You do, and as you do so, your tongues slide into each other’s embrace, entering into a battle where neither will become victor, nor desires to. Jongin pulls away eventually, as you gasp for breath, but he swoops back in to capture your lips once more, peppering soft, but slightly frantic pecks against them, lower and lower still as he embarks on his journey towards your jawline, edging ever closer to your neck which seems to be his main target here, before he promptly pulls away once more, making you murmur in protest, and looks deeply into your eyes.

“Straddle me,” he whispers.  

And you know he doesn’t have to ask you twice before you’re doing exactly that, murmuring his name softly as he directs your hand underneath his shirt and over his taut abdominal muscles, letting it rest there against the warmth of his skin.

You don’t meet lips this time, but stay in this very position, catching your breaths, a look of slight awe and confusion passing over your own features, before finally pulling away from each other’s embrace, mere moments before the closet door opens and a wave of light invades your vision.

It’s Sehun who greets you the minute the door is fully opened. “I’m up next,” he says, as he takes in your dishevelled appearance and smeared lipstick, seeming to wince slightly as he realizes what took place between Jongin and yourself. “Wishing it were you the bottle landed on, Y/N. But I’ll see you after, right?”

You nod, but he notes that movement is a little delayed, like you’re still vaguely unsure of your surroundings.

“There’s alcohol being set up in the kitchen if you want to go get some in the meantime,” he then says, directing it at both yourself and Jongin, who simply nods and threads his fingers into your own, pulling you out of the closet and along with him.

 

 He’s leaning against the counter, drinking in your expression. Something’s bothering you, deeply. Usually he’d know exactly what it is, what caused it and how to combat it, but he’s not sure if he knows where to start if it’s the kiss that has you feeling so out of place, so far from your usual temperament. 

Instead of asking – for the first time in a long time fearing what you’ll reply with, he takes out two glasses, and rinses them under the faucet thoroughly, making sure there’s nothing funny placed on the inside of either. Hopefully that would be a long shot, but a party was a party, and any chance a predator had, they’d take. 

Rather than edge towards the already opened bottle, he takes the one beside it that currently remains unopened for that exact reason, also. 

Taking the bottle into his hand, unscrewing its cap, he begins to pour a drink. It’s yours. He’ll pour his after, though he’ll offer the drinks at the same time. 

“We’ve never done this together, have we?" 

This captures your attention and you blink at him, taking a moment to register his words. Jongin notes how giddy the movement of your eyes from his eyes, and their flicker down towards his lips makes him feel. He wonders if the kiss is replaying in your mind the way it is in his. “Getting drunk?”  

Jongin nods, edging the glass towards you. 

You take it from his hands, but then pause. "I’m driving,” you mutter. “I can’t drink.”

“Seyoung can drop us off. I asked her when we arrived and she’s fine with it. You’d have to hand her your keys of course but it’s better than nothing, huh?”

Sehun’s twin sister. She was a lot closer to Jongin than you, but Jongin had been trying to change that prospect as of late, much more open to the thought of you growing close with Seyoung over the likes of Sehun. You told him he’d probably need to be worried about you falling for her too, considering her resemblance to her brother.

Half jokingly, seeing as the feelings you had for Sehun didn’t seem like they’d be lessening any time soon. But who knows, clearly there was something in the Oh family genes that seemed to be calling to you. 

Jongin would proceed to tell you their resemblance was the very reason he couldn’t find himself attracted to her, completely negating to mention the fact that his heart had been deeply set on someone else, and had been for quite some time now.

You contemplate it for exactly half a second before you accept the glass and take it into your hands, taking a sip. He’d only poured a small amount into the glass as it was, he knew you weren’t so big on drinking. 

It’s bitter and it burns the back of your throat but you refuse to be bested by it, meeting his gaze head on as you force the rest of the alcohol down your throat. Jongin shakes his head in equal parts worry and amusement, but takes a sip of his own drink. 

And he disguises his wince better sure, but it’s still there. When he’s finished, you edge closer to him, perked up. 

“We’re not leaving just yet are we?”

Jongin snorts. “The party has only just begun.” With this he threads his fingers into yours and pulls you along with him. “Let’s explore the house." 

You chew at your lip, surreptitiously glancing back at the living room from which you just came. 

Jongin’s eyes haven’t left your form, but seeing as you’re looking away, you don’t notice how he rolls them at the sight of you. 

“You seriously think he’ll be looking for you after finishing up with whatever her face is who’s in there with him? Y/N, they’re going straight to his bedroom after getting out of that closet, don’t be naive.” 

You puff out a breath, tensing at his words. “You don’t know that,” you protest. 

"We both know that,” he says monotonously. “Don’t let it get you down though, I know for a fact there’s a couple of spare rooms littered all around this house. How about we break off from the party and play a two person truth or dare in one of those?” Waggling his eyebrows at you, the movement more comical than suggestive. 

You snort. “Two person truth or dare? What would be the point of that?”

“Getting away from the noise for starters, and being alone with the only person I can stand in this household otherwise. We should get drunk together, Y/N, but not around the rest of these idiots.”

“I promised Sehun I’d go see him after his turns ends, though.”

“And may I remind you that his turn will just continue into his bedroom with whatsherface or some other whatsherface. Like it always does, like it always will. He just can’t help himself, Y/N.”

You open your mouth in protest, but quieten as you notice Jongin making his way to the kitchen’s cabinet and grabbing another bottle of alcohol, taking the bottle you’d drunk from into his arms as he’s at it.

“Not only that, you look thoroughly kissed out.” 

“That was all we did,” you remind him. 

“I know that,” he mutters. “But does Sehun know that? Something in me highly doubts that.“

“I told him I’d meet him, Jongin. Besides, you have no proof of what you’re saying. I’d like to check at the very least, okay? This could be my only chance at spending some quality time with Sehun and you know how much I like him. I get that you’re worried but…” You shake your head, sighing. You didn’t want this to turn into an argument, but he knew how you felt about his incessant over-protectiveness. “I’ll be okay.”

Jongin merely shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll be in the second room on the left with the bottles. If I’m right, meet me there. If not…” He looks like he doesn’t even want to contemplate this. “Enjoy your night I guess.”

“Will do,” you say. 

 

  It’s not exactly as Jongin had described, but it’s certainly enough to make reality slap you in the face, dig its sharp nails into your skin and embed them there, tear into what was once naive flesh, and draw the first speck of wounded blood to the surface.

He’s alone, for a moment. Bottle of beer in his hand, laying leisurely on the couch, eyes flitting across the room. It has you wondering if he’s searching for you. And you contemplate mustering up the courage to waltz over and send him your most flirtatious smile as you lull him into you the same way he had with you during lunch, yesterday.  

But then the girl he entered into the closet comes into view, and sure, you’d considered your outfit daring, but she’s definitely taking it several notches above you. You watch as his eyes trail down her form as a lazy smirk paints itself onto his features, before he pulls her onto his lap and whispers something into her ear that makes her giggle.

Jongin’s right. He isn’t thinking about you when there’s a handful of other girls throwing themselves at him at any given moment, going well out of their way to reserve a space in his memory.

Sluggishly, you  make your way out of the living room, up the stairs and embark on the short journey to the second room on the left, where your best friend presently resides, alcohol in tow.

“Save the smart comebacks,” is the first thing you say as you trudge into the room, huffing. “But, yeah, okay, you were right.”  

“Come in,” is all he murmurs, but you balk, blinking. He’s never this demure with you without ulterior motive. And you know exactly what that motive is right now.

“What the hell do you think is about to happen here, Jongin?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest at the image of your best friend, who is clearly checking you out as he pats the space on the bed beside him, in a room where only the two of you reside, a fact that won’t be changing for several hours, at the very least.  

“I could think of a few things,” he lulls.

“Don’t,” you grumble, but proceed to climb onto the bed and slide in beside him, letting out a breath of frustration as you lean your head onto his shoulder. His fingers thread through your hair as he begins to comb through it in a manner that is nothing if not relaxing… but a moment later, you decide you’ve had it with requesting refuge, hiding from your circumstances, so you pull away, locking your gaze onto his own.

“I can’t believe we kissed,” you say, your eyes searching his own. You’re not sure what you’re looking for exactly, but you know you’re happy that he’s choosing not to tease you about Sehun, happy that it’s just the two of you. Happy your best friend knows when to be playful and when to be serious. But you still can’t get over the fact the two of you have tasted each other’s lips, you can’t seem to erase the newly embedded memory of the sounds he’d made as you’d done so, the protective manner in which he’d held you, the neediness that presented itself as he’d pull you closer, the warmth of his skin.

It’s strange. He’s Jongin, your Jongin. Your best friend. But he’s also a heck of a good kisser. Should those statements be coexisting?

Above all, you’re happy that there’s alcohol present, too.  You don’t want to be thinking straight in the instance you do have to talk about the feelings bubbling within you with what you witnessed from Sehun, your irritation at your own naivety.

“I’m hoping it’s the first of many.”

“Don’t joke around like that,” you scoff, pushing his hands out of your hair fully as you edge towards the glasses and pour yourself and Jongin a drink, bringing his back and handing it over to him.    

He chuckles as he takes it from you. And it’s strange to see him like this, so carefree and relaxed, though it’s a state you’ve seen from him often throughout your years of friendship, tonight it feels… different. More grown up, somehow. He’d totally kiss you again if given the chance, wouldn’t he?

You almost chuckle at the thought. The very last thing you’d envisioned happening at your first high school party would be drunkenly tearing your best friend’s clothes off, but it’s looking a lot more plausible now. How many more drinks until it becomes a reality? Still you make no move to slow down on the alcohol.

Maybe it’s the better option here, to let loose and lose control in the safety of your best friend’s arms. Make regrets with him. Do reckless things you both know you’ll regret in the future, but didn’t care to question at that moment in time.  

“What have we got to lose?”

But that question brings you back to reality, even momentarily. “A lot. Plus we’ve been best friends for so long that everyone’s so over the stage of assuming we’ll become a thing.”  

“Who cares,” he whispers, rolling his eyes at your words. “About them, about what they think, about meaningless popularity, if I want you, I want you, I don’t need their approval.” 

You mull over this, nodding.

“Plus, you’re not going to find me kissing some other girl after promising I’d meet you and–” 

But it’s too harsh a reminder, this soon into the night. “You know, forget about all of that. Let’s just get drunk and forget we even came to this godforsaken party, huh?”

Jongin searches your eyes for a moment, the worry clear. When he’s happy with his findings, assured of your mental state, a smile graces his features as he reaches over to clink his glass against yours. “Gladly.”

And maybe his lips find their way to yours when you’re halfway through your second glass, and maybe his hands are trailing down the side of your dress as he directs you onto his lap, seeming to press your bodies so impossibly close together that you’re not sure what separation felt like until this moment, and perhaps as you’re straddling him it’s becoming abundantly clear how much he wants to do this with you right now, how it seems to be taking a lot of restraint for him to not push you into the mattress, how you’re losing the clarity of arguing why it’d be stupid for him to do so.  

“God, we’re drunk,” you cough out in a fit of giggles, between the kisses.

“All it’s doing is helping me show you that I’m not always ‘just flirting with you’, when I’m flirting with you. Sometimes talk is cheap, Y/N.”

Your hands still in the middle of their journey towards the defined muscles you know reside underneath his shirt, which makes him pull away to glance at you and drink in your expression, in effort to gauge what it is that’s stopping you in your tracks.  And all of its five letters.

Jongin only sighs, knowing exactly what’s going through your mind.

“I’d hate to be so vulgar here,” he begins, but he doesn’t at all, you can see that from the blasé smile he wears on his plush lips. “But I doubt he’s worrying about you when he’s dicking down some other girl and she’s all ‘Oh Sehun, Oh Sehun’ in his ear.”

“That’s his name.” Beside yourself, your nose crinkles at the thought. “God, that must get annoying.”

“Ah Sehun,” Jongin supplies, then shrugs. “Not that you’re ever going to get the chance to moan it now. But who cares, I’m here, and the thought of a chorus of ‘oh Jongin’s’ from your lips won’t get annoying to hear.”

And for a moment, and the moment that follows, you consider it. Then reality hits you all over again that this is your best friend. Who flirts with you often yes, but your whole deal was that was as far as it extended. Harmless, stupid flirting. Your whole deal was that that would be as far as it would ever extend.

Yet you’d kissed him more than once tonight. Earlier, in a state of sobriety you currently lack, so god only knows what will happen if you stay locked in this room with him, bottle in hand, emotions all over the place, allowing his hands to tug back into your hair as your bodies press up against each other like the sudden key to survival, more important than the air you breathe.    

“Let’s just go home,” you mutter, forcing yourself off his lap as you stumble to find your shoes. It makes sense really, you’re out of your comfort zone, in an entirely new territory, you’re going to revert to the person’s side you know best and do all the crazy you’d assumed took place in these establishments with them, rather than a random stranger.

But Jongin doesn’t seem so convinced of this, a peculiar sparkle in his eyes that tells you he thinks this exact situation will be taking place once more, sooner than either of you want to contemplate. “Think about it, though, hm? Sehun’s just got his fingers in too many pies–” 

“Stop speaking,” you grumble, grimacing.

“–So maybe he’s having a little trouble seeing you as the gem you are. But that’s not on you.” He peers at you once more, the look in his eyes so soft, encasing such a gentle adoration, it’s as if you’re the most precious person he’s ever laid them on. It’s as though you’re thinking the same thing, that the alcohol isn’t helping all that much, that you’d rather just lay in each other’s arms for a while, forget about the party, forget about the world, even. “Let’s relax a little, then find Seyoung?” Jongin says, placing the half emptied glasses onto the bedside table, before he shuffles further into the covers, with you following. 

You nod, edging closer so you can snuggle into Jongin’s embrace. He begins to speak, the timbre of his voice so coaxing and lulling you find your eyelids fluttering closed almost out of instinct.  

 

   In the weeks that follow the party, though you’ll never admit it to him, Jongin’s words have been replaying in your mind. More often than you’d like to admit, too. He’s been flirting with you the same amount as before, so nothing’s changed on that front, but neither of you have gone out of your way to bring up the kisses you shared the night of the party, the fact that the two of you were truly contemplating going that much further.

It’s winter, each passing day seems to be accompanied by a further flurry of snow than the one that came the day before – doubts that the school would even be open today had already fluttered around, though no announcement of early closure had been forwarded as of yet. Regardless of whether you’re dismissed early, Jongin and yourself are here, sitting in your should-be first class of the day, the only two around.

You have one of his earbuds in your ear, and since the last time you’d been in this exact position, you’re desperately trying to resist the urge to point out the worsening of his already atrocious music taste, the fact that you haven’t enjoyed even one of the past seven songs that have played. You try not to gag at the taste of his "health” smoothie after he offers you a sip, knowing your curiosity always gets the better of you in these cases and you can’t possibly refuse. You know that all he wants is for you to balance the sugar out with some healthier alternatives, but did it have to taste like that? Really?

His guard is down as he’s grinning at you toothily, watching this scene play out, so you decide to bring up the question that’s been swimming in and out of your mind since the party, all those weeks ago, anxieties on the topic seeming to be lessening somewhat as you watch him… watch you, like this.  

“Jongin?”

He hums in response, eyes fixated on you, a gentleness residing in them that almost takes your breath away, because it reminds you that as much as the two of you quarrel and pick on the other, there’s such a gentle depth of love and understanding between you, also. He’d go to the ends of the earth for you, he really would. A beat passes, the eye contact uninterrupted as he reaches over, almost out of instinct, to brush the lock of hair that has fallen in front of your face away from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear.

Without words, your own eyes seem to translate the topic your words are about allude to. “Would it… change things if we did?”

For a moment, he blinks at you, as if he’s hearing you wrong.

“You know, if we, uh… had … with each other? As best friends who swore they’d never be involved like that at any point during their friendship or their lives.”

He looks at you blankly, blinks at you blankly, then scoffs. “I never swore anything of the sort,” he announces. “To answer your question, maybe. Probably, in its ways. It might be hard to flip a switch and turn any newly awoken ual attraction back to its strictly platonic counterpart, which means it may not end up as a one time thing, only. But who’s to know until we try?  
 You can at least be assured of the fact that I won’t make it some big spectacle like Sehun and his buddies would. You’d be free to explore all kinds of with me and know that I’ll treat you like the wonderful human I know you to be, afterwards. There’ll be no change there.”

You nod at this, finding yourself contemplating it deeper. “I don’t know if I can handle seeing that side of you, though,” you then whine, and he raises an eyebrow in amusement. Cute, he’d call you. But you’re serious here; you all the time, you play pranks on one another, you’re used to goofing off around one another, and until you felt his lips against yours, sleeping with him had been the very last of your concerns with Jongin, the very last thought in your mind. But now…? “But I can’t stop thinking about how it’d be, you know? I’ve been at this weird crossroads since the party.”

And it’s freaking you out.

“Hot,” Jongin then supplies with a shrug, eyes still trained on you. You broke the eye contact several moments ago, worried about where else your thoughts would lead if you kept it up. Jongin doesn’t seem to be having the same problem, in fact, this seems to be amusing him further. Goading him on further. “Intense.” 

When you do turn your attention back to his features, there’s an emotion swirling in his irises that tells you he’s thought about this topic to a deeper depth than his current reply would suggest. And that intrigues you even further. At what point were you even vaguely y, suggestive or seductive around him? You’re always talking about other people when you do mention ual situations and romantic prospects to him, so there’d truly never been this implication of a you and him thing until the party.

He’s always the one flirting with you, too, so it definitely didn’t start there, either.  

“Let’s test it,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow at this, the sing-song tone his voice has adopted.  “Here?” You ask, snorting.

He shrugs, eyes twinkling in a manner that seems to remind you that you’re the only two around.

“You could touch yourself to the thought of me tonight and tell me how that goes, I’m sure that would work out fine, as well.” 

You snort. “Pass.”

“Not that we’re going to right now, but if I told you I wanted to you in this classroom, and if we planned the timing of it precisely, we’d only have the tiniest risk of being caught and suspended for desecrating these pristine walls, do you think that’d be a thought that would haunt your mind for weeks to come, too?”

You chew at your lip, because as ridiculous as the concept of it is, it’s also kind of hot. Kind of. 

Seeming to ask for your approval with his next action with his eyes, you nod.

“I have an invite for you this time,” he says as he directs your hand closer and closer to his thigh, letting it rest there, an inch of a smirk playing on his lips. It’s like he’s willing you to squeeze it, or edge it dangerously close to another part of him.

Test the waters, so to speak. See how that leaves you feeling as you do so. You gulp, contemplating just how blind you’ve been to his body this entire time. You knew he’d been working out religiously – he always had to mention it alongside his new concoction for any of his rancid health smoothies, you’d run your hands over his taut stomach muscles at the party, you’d witnessed him in short sleeved t-shirts, noticed that his arms were bigger than you last remembered, but why is it only hitting you now?  That physically, your best friend is hot.

Personality-wise? Yeah, he might be the most insufferable person you’d ever known. …And that’s why. That’s exactly why. Because the appeal stops the minute he opens his mouth.

“And what’s that?” You ask.

“That you turn him down and spend the entire day and night with me. Let’s just see what happens, Y/N. No rush, no pressure.”

But you only sigh to yourself at this. “You think he’d invite me to anything else he’s throwing after that disaster?” 

“I think–” But he stops here, and you’re just about to ask what’s stopped him in his tracks when you hear his voice.

“Y/N,” Sehun calls, from the doorway, beam on his face as his gaze hones in on you.

Jongin stiffens, and not in the way he wants to stiffen right this moment. Brushing your hand off his thigh, so it appears this was just the innocent conversation between besties Sehun had hoped it would be, he shuffles his positioning so he’s sitting upright fully.

“Sehun,” you cough out, voice a little strained.

“I thought you’d be here.” He edges closer to the desk, eventually perching against it, his recently dyed locks looking as gorgeous and well conditioned as ever, those much too dreamy eyes staring deep into your soul. “Listen, I wanted to apologize for the situation at the party. I think we lost sight of each other, which was the last thing I wanted to happen.”

“I’m sure you made good use of your time,” you say, a little tersely. You know for a fact that he did.

He runs a nervous hand over the back of his neck, puffing out a breath, almost shaky in its nature. “I’m really sorry about that. I’d hoped we’d be able to spend some quality time together after seven minutes in heaven, truly.” 

You don’t have to turn your attention towards your best friend to know that he’s rolling his eyes.

“But I hope you enjoyed yourself? I know you’re not used to these parties… it’s why I felt so bad when I couldn’t find you. All I could think about was you and your safety. How I could let myself be distracted simply because I couldn’t find you after the game ended. I’m really sorry about that.”

You only shrug like it’s no big deal. “It’s okay,” you assure. “Jongin was around to protect me.”

Even though Jongin’s smart mouth would be the reason you’d be involved in any altercation here, he’s more than likely referencing being taken advantage of by some random party-goer, which Jongin would protect you from, without a doubt.

“Yeah,” Jongin butts in, as if he’s clearing his throat to remind Sehun he’s also in the room, that Jongin is around. “Jongin was around.”

Sehun’s eyes flit to Jongin momentarily and he nods at him, almost as a thank you, but you notice the terseness of the movement, even if it’s very subtle. “Anyway, I, uh… maybe it’s a long shot but I have another invite for you. It’s not so much a party, more of a small get together. My parents own a… cabin–” There’s a nervous note to the way he says this, like he might be suggesting a sized-down version of the actual property, but has no other way of slotting it into the conversation as casually. “–By the mountains and there’d be no seven minutes in heaven this time. Just a few of us, sitting around, getting to know each other.”

And whilst you’re thinking, ‘ooh, new friends!’, “,” Jongin coughs out from beside you. You elbow him.

You know you shouldn’t, but the expectant expression on Jongin’s features is the closest thing you’ve ever felt to peer pressure in your life, like he’s trying to telepathically communicate to you that there’s one crucial factor missing in this very invitation. Him. “I’d love to,” you say, and Jongin almost scoffs at the way your voice softens. “Would Jongin also be invited?”

Sehun bristles a little, eyes searching yours as if to ask for a way to answer 'no, not really’ in the politest manner he can muster.

“We’re a package deal Sehun,” Jongin then chirps up, smiling sweetly at the slightly younger, much blonder male. His words? Total bull. He’d been to a couple of these parties alone, and maybe it was because he had no idea you were on Sehun’s social radar, but he’d never asked for you to be invited alongside him. Not once.

Less a package deal, more like conjoined twins at this rate, huh?

God, even if you did end up getting somewhere ually with Sehun, Jongin would probably be leaning against the frame of his bedroom door, critiquing his performance the entire time.  

“Right, uh… of course you’re invited too, Jongin.”

“We’ll be there,” he sings, chuckling as Sehun bids you goodbye and almost sulks out of the room. He mentions something about probable closure of the school, how the two of you shouldn’t wait around.

“He’s threatened,” Jongin continues, in the same irritatingly chipper tone. “Knows that if you stay in here any longer with me, we’ll be backed up against the cabinet, your twirling around my finger as you whisper in my ear how you can’t remember what the separation of our bodies felt like.”

And you hate that the way he phrases that, the note his voice takes on as he does, evokes the same feeling the syrup glazing the waffle you’ve been dreaming about scarfing down since you actually took the 'I promise I’ll eat healthier’ challenge upon yourself, would.

Rather than reply to this, not trusting the severity of sass to your words this time, you send him a look that makes your disappointment of his forced invitation clear.

“What?” He asks. “I love cabins.”

“Sure you do.”

“Anyway let’s ditch, there’s no one here and our favorite diner is still open, proving that there’s at least one establishment left that doesn’t panic at the first sight of snow.”

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Baekhyunsoul
#1
Chapter 2: What exactly happened that she didn’t fall for him as he planned and now he and Sehun are bffs and he ruined her senior year with lying about her reputation??? And it follows them to college? So much to this story! I hope one day you come back and finish it.
Baekhyunsoul
#2
Chapter 1: He’s like one of those predator animals who slowly rounds up their prey until they have no way to turn lol
blodynyx
#3
Chapter 2: Jongin you- possessive manipulative . Gosh. I am speechless with him. He did all of this, as in spreading rumours of her, because he wants her for himself? Right? They could have it all, but he always ruins it and he's on his way to ruin OC, again. I feel sorry for OC though huhu why does she have to involved with someone like Jongin, but couldn't blame her either because I too would do the same jskfksjfksjs
blodynyx
#4
Chapter 1: No wonder OC never think that Jongin could destroy her when he's this... manipulative. I honestly almost succumb to his sweet nothings.
dalsol
#5
Chapter 2: If I knew a person like this Jongin in real life, I would fight them... he’s so manipulative but also interesting and refreshing to read about??? Like I’m used to him being in more nice guy roles so this is really fun to read :’) And Taeminnnnn!!! I honestly wasn’t expecting him to be the professor so I’m happy to see him here!!! Excited to see what happens next x’D
Moonlight_23 #6
Wooooo i'm super excited for this one~
ExoticShawolinSpirit
#7
Excited for this!
chowstein #8
This is completely promising!