Evolution of a lover's heart | jjk

45

Funnily enough, it only takes seven days for Jeongguk to find himself in almost the exact same situation once again.

Post-date, you've stumbled into his apartment, wine-stained lips against lips, but this time, it's the living room Jeongguk backs you into as soon as you've gotten your shoes off. He sinks down onto the couch, and you let him pull you down to straddle his lap.

You smell so nice, he thinks as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. So warm and sweet, and how would he ever get enough? The subsequent giggles you let out at the tickling touch are just as addicting, and he smiles like a lovesick idiot against your skin.

You've got your hands on his shoulders, and Jeongguk's smile only grows wider when you run them down his arms and mumble something that sounds like "so handsome."

He's wearing black slacks and a dark blue shirt with black and white flowers and rectangles printed on it. It looks incredibly lovely on him, at least according to what you've told him approximately five times during the last five hours. Well, six times now.

The shirt also has snap buttons, one of which accidentally pops open when you move your arm to rest around his neck.

You break the kiss at the sound and move your hands down. "Sorry," you grin, "I'm not trying to undress you, I promise."

But that top button is stubborn and won't allow you to snap it back into place, no matter how hard you concentrate.

"It's okay, leave it," Jeongguk chuckles. "I literally woke up to you drooling on my naked chest this morning anyway."

He's not as bothered by the thought of intimacy anymore. Well, he's not exactly ready yet, but finally confessing his struggles and seeing how nothing changed took a lot of pressure off him. He didn't realize just how terrified he'd been of you finding out that his baggage was that much heavier, but since the albeit short talk a week ago, things are the same as before, yet they're not.

It helps that he can relax, knowing that even if you're just a little bit softer and considerate with your touch, you don't look at him differently. He's not a disappointment, and you don't expect him to 'man up.'

You're not scared to still wrap your arms around him or allow him to hold you at night, and those moments–when you're intertwined and his somewhat stumbling words and thoughts are the only sound in the quiet night–really help.

You blink exaggeratedly at him, "First of all, I don't drool."

Jeongguk raises his eyebrows, but you choose to ignore that, glancing down at your fingers, still on the button but no longer trying to close it.

"And it's different. I want you to know that everything—every little button—is on your terms too. I don't want you to do something because you think you should or that you owe me or something."

For a split second, Jeongguk's smile turns sad. Or, not sad, mostly... emotional. He still struggles with feeling inadequate, like you have to put so much effort into taking care of him, and like he can't find anything valuable enough to give in return.

"And you know that you're not a disappointment to me, right?" you assure, because of course, that split second of emotion didn't pass you by, even when you're tipsy. "You make me really, really happy."

Jeongguk takes a moment to really meet your eyes, to fall back on the genuineness of your gaze and soft smile. He wonders how on earth a person can be so breathtaking and mesmerizing and kind. God, how are you real? Your honest words grant him some confidence, and his hands on your hips pull you closer.

"But since we're on the subject, I thought of something," you continue, looking down at him with curiosity and almost... mischief? "It's just a suggestion, and you can turn it down if you want. I know you're not comfortable with touching me or me touching you yet, but have you thought about... touching yourself?"

Jeongguk can feel his forehead crease. "You want me to jerk off? Like, alone? Cause I definitely already do that. Or do you mean here and... now?"

"I meant with me. Not necessarily here and now, just... someday."

"Uhh... I don't know?"

Your gaze softens, and you return your arms to rest on his shoulders. "It's okay, it was just a suggestion."

He nods, thinking it over. It feels odd. Not necessarily the act of touching himself in front of someone; he's done kinkier stuff than that, but because he didn't expect you to suggest it, and technically, it somehow works out. He... thinks?

Interrupting his brain as it tries to decipher if touching himself in front of you would somehow make him greedy, you lean your temple against his.

Your voice is warm when you ask quietly, right into his ear, "Can I tell you something?"

Immediately, it pulls him out of his thoughts, and he hums, a low sound that matches the sweet little shapes his fingers draw on the fabric of your black, long-sleeved blouse that covers your waist.

"And I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, so please tell me if you are, and I'll stop. But you say that you're nervous to be... intimate because you... well, you don't deserve it. Right? You don't feel like you deserve to touch me, and you feel like you don't deserve the pleasure of me touching you."

"...Yeah," he confirms quietly.

"You also said... that it was bad, that night. The sex was bad."

"Not—not you. You weren't bad."

"But you were?"

He chooses not to say anything, but it's the loudest of answers. That night was the culmination of all things he'd done wrong.

"And I just keep wondering... 'do we even remember the same thing?'"

You speak so quietly, almost as if you're talking to no one but yourself, and it makes goosebumps rise on his arms underneath his shirt. He wonders if you've closed your eyes.

"You say it was bad, and that you wish it never happened, but when I think back to it, I remember... being incredibly happy. I've never really entered things with expectations, and I tried not to with you as well. Not because of you but because of... well, everything, really. And you know, sex hadn't always been the best for me, and I'd definitely had some... less than perfect times, but you... you were so sweet and gentle and caring."

You let out a small and content sigh, one that Jeongguk mirrors. Although a part of his mind tells him to ignore what you're saying because of what he did after, that voice becomes muffled. He focuses on your words, the warmth and honesty that is you. It's not always easy to look at his memories and realize that there might be two versions; one that happened and one he convinced himself happened. It's even harder to separate the two.

"I know you thought I was a virgin, and maybe you were softer because of that, but you still didn't get rough as soon as you realized I wouldn't break. I remember feeling happy and appreciated, and just... even the sight of you made me feel out of breath. I felt warm all over when you looked at me, when you touched me."

It's the tone of your voice that does it, and he shuts his eyes as he lets the necrotic parts of him be washed away. He was good and kind, and you love him just like he's head over heels for you.

You keep your temple pressed to his, and he can tell that with those last words, you've executed your original plan; to tell him how you never regretted that night.

However, the silence doesn't last long before you're chuckling quietly, preparing to say something you hadn't initially planned to. Maybe it's the lingering alcohol, he thinks.

And so before he knows it, your voice has turned into something that's barely louder than a whisper. "Do you remember how it went? What we did?"

Instantly, images flash before his closed eyes. He lets out a shaky breath and tightens his grip on your hips.