inspired by this

She can’t deny the pull between them. It’s magnetic – almost physical – and she’s never felt anything like it before. There have been other men. There have been people she’s loved, people she’s lusted over; even one man who made her heart race so hard she couldn’t breathe.

But there’s never been anything like this. It’s a schoolgirl crush – the kind of thing she’s always heard of but never experienced; there are moments when she looks at him and all she can do is smile dopily.

And he smiles back, because this isn’t one-sided. Whatever it is, he feels it too, despite how inappropriate this little crush is – she longs for him. Longs to say to hell with it – to come up with a pathetic, ill-thought out excuse and rush back into that room and say the three words that leave her blushing.

I like you. She’s not five anymore; she’s twenty-eight and on her way to becoming a mother. She shouldn’t feel like this, shouldn’t tingle when he touches her – and he touches her a lot, and not just for medical reasons – it’s embarrassing. It’s stupid.

And it’s totally, utterly worth it.

***

She doesn’t say anything about it to either Yixing and Jongdae. The raised eyebrows and gentle nudges are enough to let her know that they see it and they don’t get it, but that’s fine. She’s not intending to do anything about this attraction – not really. There are dreams, and there are fantasies – but she’s not stupid.

There are boundaries you don’t cross, and a baby standing in the way of anything this could be.

She make-believes instead; she watches him, learns all of his little habits and is bewitched by that smile. Oh, yes – his smile. It does things to her. Things that aren’t appropriate for a mother-to-be to admit to; feelings her mother would raise an eyebrow at, and feelings she’s pretty sure Jongdae is privy to every time Yixing grins at him in that slow, meaningful way of his.

So no, she doesn’t act on her feelings. But she doesn’t hide them, either – she’s never been very good at keeping things concealed.

And it’s not like he does, either.

***

The kiss is an accident. It’s an appointment  neither Yixing or Jongdae can make, for once – something that happens rarely, because they might not be the most responsible of people, but they are trying hard. And she loves them for that, so she doesn’t blame them very much for missing it.

Joonmyun notices she’s a little put out though. Of course he does. There’s that slight tightening of his lips, the constant glances at her out of the corner of his eye as he rattles off questions about how she’s feeling.

“They couldn’t make it?” He asks gently, one hand on her arm – a gesture that is not part of his protocol; something that is going a little further than the unspoken limits they have set themselves, but she doesn’t shake him off.

“No,” she says, and she’s hyper-aware of the fact that he’s watching her lips move. It shouldn’t be – it should be creepy – but it is. “They both have work. I said it didn’t matter.” In fact, it doesn’t matter – not when she has him all to herself. Not when he’s looking at her like that.

“Ah,” he nods, lips drawing into the condensed version of his gleaming smile. “Well,” there’s a short intake of breath, and a y little laugh, “it appears I have you all to myself, then.” It should be a joke, but they both know it isn’t.

And the heat that pools between her legs is a testament to that fact. She’s never normally lost for words – most days, she can talk the hind leg off a donkey – but with that look, all she can do is think about kissing him.

It happens almost spontaneously. One moment, they’re smiling at each other, the next – they’re leaning forward and her lips brushing against his in a feather-light touch. She should pull back – she should apologise for her indiscretion and walk away with a shamefaced blush.

That would be the normal, rational thing to do.

But she’s never been very good at rational, and when he deepens the kiss her breath hitches and all thought of forgetting her crush flies out of the window.

***

Jongdae knows – in that instinctual way some best friends have – when she comes home from work that evening. He’s all fired up for reasons why it’s a stupid idea – rationales about how she’ll break her heart and it’ll be bad for both her and the baby, but then she turns to him with that smile on her face, and he can’t.

“He gives me butterflies.” She’s as the bright as the sun when she says that – happier than he’s seen her in a long time. “I’ve never had a man give me butterflies before.”

He doesn’t have the heart to take that away from her.

I've been a little unhappy the past couple of weeks. Writing has been difficult. This just happened because I felt like something bittersweet.