You slammed the controller on the floor and crossed your arms. "Why do you have to win all the time?"

"I don't have to," your boyfriend grinned, "I just do."

"But you totally cheated!" you pointed out while he sipped his soju triumphantly. "You're not supposed to use powerups."

"I didn't use any powerups."

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't. Besides, you don't have any proof."

"Baek!" you called to your friend who was lying on the couch with his phone in hand. "Did Jongin use a powerup?"

"Hmm?" Baekhyun sat up and looked from the phone to the two of you sitting on the ground. "Oh, sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"See?" Jongin tipped back his drink again as you groaned in frustration.

"Do you guys really have to fight over this kind of thing?" Sehun asked from across the room. "You’re constantly fighting, you know."

"We wouldn't be if he would just play fair and square," you sneered.

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes. "Where’s the fun in that?"

Your jaw dropped and you were just about to retaliate when the rest of the guys suddenly stood up. "You're all leaving?"

"Yeah," Baekhyun said sheepishly. "It's getting late and we don't want to be a bother. Remember, Jongin, we have rehearsals tomorrow morning."

After you ushered them out the door, you turned around and found Jongin right behind you.

"Finally, they're gone," he murmured as his arms came around you and pulled you closer.

But you had other plans. "What did you mean when you said there's no fun in playing fair?"

"What?" He was caught off guard as you wormed your way out of his arms and back into the living room.

"Do you find it thrilling to cheat but not get caught?" you grumbled as you cleared the dining table.

"When did I say that?" he replied calmly. But when you didn't respond, his tone became more urgent. "Why are you making a big deal out of it?"

"I'm making a big deal out of it?" You set the garbage to the side and tried to drag the heavy dining table. "You're the one who seems to think cheating is nothing but fun."

"You think I would cheat on you?" he murmured and watched you struggle with the table. "Here, let me help you," he said as he grabbed the other side and lifted the table easily.

"So you are cheating on me."

"What? When did I say that?"

You let go of the table and crossed your arms. "You didn't deny it."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was too busy processing the fact that my girlfriend would think me so low of me to cheat on her." He pushed the table with a sour look on his face. The wooden edge hit sharply against your hip but you bit your tongue to keep quiet. "Now, if you'd get out of the way, I can move this table back myself."

You fought the tears that wanted to fall out at the onslaught of his harsh words. You turned and walked to the door, grabbing your coat along the way.

"Where are you going?" he called from the living room.

"Getting out of your way!" You slammed the door behind you and stuffed your hands in your pockets before you set out into the cold night.

-

The vibration of your phone against the nightstand woke you up again. You groaned and reached for it, not remembering the fight you had with your boyfriend just a few nights ago.

43 unread messages and 30 missed calls.

As the memory flashed back, you wanted to cry again but suddenly your mom walked in, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Mom, I miss him," you blurted out.

She sighed before sitting down on your bed. "Then why are you here in my house?" she asked gently. The only reply you could muster was an unconvincing shrug. When she put a comforting hand on your arm, the lump in your throat came back. "He's not a bad man, dear. He was frantic when he came here yesterday looking for you. Why didn’t you tell him where you were staying?"

You let out a humourless laugh. "He's just being overdramatic."

“It isn’t nice to play with a man’s sanity, you know. I think Jongin still thinks you’re lost on the streets and not coming back because you don’t know how.” She heaved a sigh. "Whatever he was being, the look on his face made it really hard for me to keep my mouth shut. He was ready to call the police and report a missing person."

You looked up, alarmed. "He didn't, did he?"

You mother shook her head. "He didn't. I convinced him not to."

You nodded in response and checked your inbox for the newest message.

«good morning, baby. i hope you're doing okay. Please tell me you're somewhere safe»

"Mom," you said in a squeaky voice as the tears welled in your eyes. "I need to apologize to him."

She nodded in understanding. "We'll make him some fried chicken and you can be back by lunch."

-

"Jongin-ah..." you called as you peaked into your own kitchen. You looked around and saw that much of the appliances had been left untouched, unlike the living room that held piles of dirty laundry and remnants of the party from a few days back. Of course, you thought. Jongin would have resorted to eating takeout everyday for his lack of cooking skills.

You set the fried chicken you had made down on the table and sighed. You knew he was home—you had seen his shoes by the door—and you had practised your apology a bunch of times but you were still undoubtedly nervous. What if he didn't like your apology? What if another argument starts and you'll end back at your mother's house?

"God." An arm slithered around your waist and you jumped in surprise. You would've fallen over if it weren't for Jongin's hands pulling you against his chest. "When did you get back?" he asked as he tickled your neck with his nose.

"I just came in."

He looked up, showing tired eyes that he had trouble keeping open. "Please don't leave ever again," he pleaded in such a soft voice that you couldn't help but reach over to his face. You missed him dearly.

"I'm sorry, Jongin."

"No." He turned you around and pressed his lips lightly against yours. "Don't be." As his fingers pulled you closer by your belt loops, you suddenly wanted more than just chaste pecks.

You whimpered as he pushed against your hip, forcing you to perch atop the table. The pressure reminded you of that night you had run off, the night when Jongin's accidental move had left a dark bruise on your side. A few days later, it was still tender.

As your arms wrapped around Jongin, your legs did, too. Your fingers ran through his hair and you pulled him close to whisper in his ear. "I brought fried chicken."

Jongin leaned back, giving you a teasing smirk. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Maybe." You kissed his jaw just as he closed his eyes. "But I'm just saying it'll get cold if we don't eat it now."

"Let me take my time with you. The chicken can wait."

His kisses became hungrier by the second and you could feel his hard arousal pressing against you. His thumbs drew small circles around your hips and you shifted away in pain with a whine.

"Hmm?" Jongin broke the kiss and searched your face for an explanation but you couldn't meet his eyes. You just wanted to continue kissing him and forget about the bruise on your side. "What's wrong?" asked Jongin.

"Nothing!" you tried to convince him but when he pressed his palm against the injury, your reply came out as a squeak.

You noticed Jongin's brows crease together and you bit your lip nervously. He was beginning to figure it out but you didn't want him to. You knew he would end up worrying about it for a long time.

Jongin's swift hands quickly ed your denim shorts and, before you could even react, his fingers pulled down your underwear enough to reveal a purplish-green patch of skin on your hip.

"Was this..." he trailed off as he looked at your injury and then back at you.

You took his hand and kissed his cheek. "It's just a bruise. It's nothing," you reassured him.

He didn't look convinced but he stole your lips nonetheless. He kissed as if he was apologizing and begging you to forgive him. It fluctuated from sweet nibbles across your lips to breathlessly hungry . When he was done, he had left you panting and only wanting more.

Before you had even caught your breath, Jongin picked you up and began walking out of the kitchen.

"Bedroom," he said in a way that told you there was nothing that could turn him away. "We're not coming out for anything."

You gave him a confused look. "What if you get hungry? You haven't eaten breakfast yet."

He stopped in his tracks and blinked twice before spinning around and heading back into the kitchen. He grabbed the fried chicken with the hand that cradled your knees and then walked out again. "Now we're set."

You couldn't help but giggle as he stepped over the piles of laundry in the living room and locked the bedroom door behind the two of you. "I love you," you said before he set you down on the bed and covered you in kisses.

---