crush (along with alcohol and tobacco)

You have a crush on Seol Yoona, let's start with this fact first.

She's deadly gorgeous — her eyes, her nose, her lips. You're as tall as she is, but the aura she emanates makes you feel like you're five centimeters shorter. She's a year above you, and that just makes the entire ordeal better for you. It's your thing — being dominated at everything by a woman. Therefore, Seol Yoona, or Sullyoon, is just flawless in your eyes.

You don't even dare to look at her when you walk past each other in the hallway. You just hide behind your friends cowardly, and you hope that she'd notice you amongst the crowd one day. There's a conflict between your actions and your desire, apparently, but you just can't help getting flustered and becoming mute when she's in your proximity.

The chance presents itself eventually. It can't be more of an open chance than this one.

"Have you seen the pair list for the trip yet?" Taesan asks you. His hands are on the steering wheel, driving you to the faculty as usual. You help him with fuel costs from time to time.

"Not yet. I probably got paired with someone I don't know." You shrug, scrolling through your Reddit feed. There are a few memes and a few posts about the games you're still playing in your freshman year. "We'll forget each other in a week, so, like, what's the appeal of knowing it now?"

"You're fucking pessimistic, dude. Maybe you have one of those pretty sophomores as your partner!" Taesan encourages you as the car enters the campus. "What's her name again? Yoon?"

"Sullyoon, and what's the chance? Two? Three percent? What's one hundred divided by thirty-eight—"

"Sometimes you just gotta believe, man," Taesan cuts you off cleanly. He's like a lighthouse for your sailboat in a thunderstorm. "And it's over ten percent. If you get one of the dance club members, they might help you get to Yoon as well!"

"Sullyoon. Yoon is the debate club president," you correct Taesan, though you're opening the group chat now. The trip's main document is the latest message.

"Yeah, Sullyoon," and he pauses to make a turn before continuing. "Anyway, the key point is: you have to trust your luck. I'm sure you'll—"

"Holy fucking fuck."

"Told ya, is it one of the—"

"It's Sullyoon!" you shout into the small confines of Taesan's car, seeing your name to the right of Seol Yoona on the list. You examine again to make sure that you didn't hallucinate, and it's really you and Sullyoon! You're being paired together for the trip this summer break!

You can barely comprehend the notion of you actually conversing with her — the topic, the tone, the personality, her eyes, her nose, her lips. Fuck, even the idea of you being close to her felt so far-fetched just mere minutes ago, and now, you're finally going to get to know her!

"I'm gonna cum."

"At least get out of the car first."

"Aren't you gonna go sit with her?" Taesan asks you, and you open your eyes from the attempt to get a pleasant sleep on the way to the destination. "The middle of the bus is also, like, the safest place?"

You blink a few times to get yourself back to your senses before replying, "We die together!"

Taesan gives you a look that makes you rethink your decisions, and the courage starts to flow in, even if it's just a bit. "That's probably the worst excuse you could've given me. I'm kicking you out of this seat."

"No, you can't."

"Your loss, then," Taesan scoffs, and he gives you another decision-altering look.

"What if she says no? That's gonna ruin the whole trip for me!" you whine, and you know that you're just delaying the inevitable of actually talking to her for the first time at this point.

Taesan purses his lips for a while before answering, "You don't know the outcome yet." He shrugs, looking for Sullyoon, who's still sitting by herself in the middle row. "Don't live to regret this."

You look at Sullyoon sitting a few rows in front of you like Taesan does, and to be frank, his words are pretty damn reasonable here. It's a slim chance against no chance at all to sit next to her for the first half of the trip.

"Fine," you concede, and you get up from your seat.

Each step feels heavier than it should be. Your eyes lock onto the back of Sullyoon's head. Her hair is done in a ponytail today. She looks pretty like this. In fact, she looks pretty in every hairstyle. You trudge towards her row slowly, trying not to let her out of sight. Each second feels awfully long and tormenting, and you just reel through the possibilities of your first conversation with her. You keep reminding yourself that you have to ask for the vacancy of the seat beside her.

Until you're right beside her.

"Uh," you manage with all of your consciousness and energy. Sullyoon turns to you. "Hey, Miss Seol."

"Hey!" she greets you with a polite smile. "What's up?"

"I was gonna ask," and a pause. You can't believe you're having a conversation with her like this. With sheer willpower, you continue, "If I could sit here, since we're partners for the trip."

Sullyoon's eyes widen. "Oh, you're my freshman! Sure!" and she pats the seat beside her invitingly. "I'll tell Bae to sit somewhere else."

"Oh, I can just—"

"Please, and we've never talked prior to this, right? We can get to know each other here!" Sullyoon persuades, and her eyes give the impression that she wants your company. You just cannot decline the heavenly offer granted by the stars.

"Uh, okay." You settle yourself beside Sullyoon cautiously, trying not to humiliate yourself with your awkward movements. "Can Miss Bae sit with my friend?"

"Sure thing! Where's your friend?"

"Uh," and turn back to Taesan, who's watching your shenanigans happily. "He's there." You point at him.

"Alright, I'll message her."'

You keep thinking of ways that you can fumble this, and you just can't seem to stop it. Still, having Sullyoon this close to you after just a few words makes your heart flutter, and you have to hold back your smile for the entire trip.

"What's that on your phone?" Sullyoon asks. It's about half an hour into the ride. You appreciate the fact that she takes interests about your phone's background.

"The wallpaper?" and you tilt your phone to her a bit, making sure that she can see your screen.

"Yeah. Is it a movie poster?"

"Aftersun, yeah. I watched it a few years ago, and it just stuck in my head ever since."

It's an honest answer. Aftersun is an influential film to you. You saw it at a theater when it was initially released, and you just can't get it out of your brain somehow. It's a five-star film, really.

"Never heard of it before," Sullyoon says with a chuckle. "I'm not good at movies, to be honest."

Bravely, you reply, "I can help you with that if you want," and you chuckle a bit, diluting the seriousness of your words. You're trying not to look too cocky with your cinema knowledge here.

"I'd say yes if I had time," Sullyoon answers. "Please don't take it to heart. It's just that: I have so many fucking things going on in my life."

"Sorry to hear that," you respond in an attempt to empathize. "I don't take it personally, don't worry."

Sullyoon smiles before showing you her wallpaper. There are some Japanese letters that you can't translate and a few cars that you find cute. The overall image looks rather green-tinted. "I took this myself."

"With, like, a camera?"

"Yeah, it was from my trip to Tokyo," and Sullyoon pulls her phone back, seemingly searching for something. "Let me find the album, uh, here!"

You look at a bright image of the buildings of Tokyo. The composition and the lighting look good to you.

"Wow," you utter. "It's gorgeous."

Sullyoon smiles again. "Thanks. This is one of the better ones. I'm, like, really proud of it."

You can't help but smile along with her. Sullyoon continues to show you the images from her trip, and they truly are eye candy. You shower her with praise for her photography skills. You learn about the camera she uses. She learns about your love for Aftersun a little more. The conversation goes back and forth throughout the ride, and you're so fucking proud of yourself that you asked for this seat in the first place.

You're winning Seol Yoona's heart.

The bus stops at the mandatory resting point for lunch. You've been here a few times with your family before. It looks a tad different from what you've remembered, though you appreciate the fact that you get to use the bathroom and have a few pieces of pizza.

"So, how do you guys know each other?" Bae asks, biting off a piece of pepperoni she's holding. Sullyoon is sitting beside her, munching on a piece of double cheese.

"We live in the same dorm. He was searching for someone who lived there in the group chat, and I contacted him," Taesan answers, and you're nodding along with his words to confirm the legitimacy of the story. "And I drive him to campus on the days that we don't skip our classes," he continues with a chuckle, earning a boisterous laugh from Bae.

"You're skipping classes as freshmen?" Sullyoon quizzes.

Not wanting to look like a pair of irresponsible students in Sullyoon's eyes, you hastily refute his claim, "No, no, no, he was just joking."

Sullyoon nods approvingly before biting off her double cheese again. "I wish I had the fire like you guys," she says. "You kinda lose the energy with time, you know."

Not knowing how to answer, you just smile back at her. Then, you go back to the piece of pepperoni in your hand again, hoping that when you and Taesan become sophomores, you can be good examples for the future freshmen.

"Taesan, you have a, uh, sauce?" Bae starts, then she pulls a piece of paper out of a box for him. "Left side."

"So, why do you like photography?" you start at some time into the second half of the ride. It has been a while of silence playing on your phones, and you don't want to look too antisocial here.

"It's my mom," and Sullyoon looks up from her phone. The afternoon light from outside the bus is making a good angle with her face. She just looks gorgeous like this — her brown hair, her eyes, her voice. "She's a photographer, and she taught me about cameras and how to take photos."

You nod along with her words. "Cool. My mom is a chef."

"That's cool, too. Does this mean you can cook well?" Sullyoon asks. Her head is tilted a little in curiosity.

"I can make a​ Thai omelette. Is that enough?" you joke back, eliciting a chuckle from Sullyoon.

"Not a very suitable set of skills for today's dinner, I'd say," Sullyoon says, and she leans in closer to you. Your heart races at the unexpected proximity, and you use all your willpower to stay still. Though it turns out that she's just whispering you a spoiler for today's dinner. "I'm not supposed to tell a freshman, but we're having barbecue tonight."

You can smell her perfume — summer.

Your muscles relax once Sullyoon pulls her mouth away from your ear. You take some time to process her words. It's a barbecue. There'll be a grill. There'll be fire.

"Will there be beer as well?" you ask, only to realize how much of an alcoholic you're being in front of your crush. Fuck.

Sullyoon laughs. Her voice dips a tad deeper than usual, but it's devastatingly attractive to your ears. "Isn't that, like, the whole point of this trip? Getting wasted together and floating around in a pool?"

"Fair point," you reply, and the image of a drenched Sullyoon plagues your mind in an instant — clothes clinging to her skin, wet hair, her curves. Maybe you'll be making out with her in the water with your breath smelling like wheat and rye. You'll hold her close to your body as you kiss her with need. You'll—

"I still have to make sure of your safety, though, so don't drink too much. I can't deal with the faculty and your parents," Sullyoon half-jokes and half-pleads, pulling you away out of the fantasy. You understand her burden, of course, and you're going to be taking care of a freshman next year as well. You don't want physics-bending karma to come back and bite you in your ass.

"Sure, Miss Seol."

"Please, just call me Sullyoon," she urges. "Seriously, I feel like a fucking historical artifact being called Miss Seol, and I think I trust you enough now."

You get confused a bit at the idea of Sullyoon trusting you. Alas, it has been only a few hours since your first conversation. Nonetheless, you can jump out of this bus onto the road and ruin a car's windshield with this level of ecstasy. Seol Yoona trusts you, and that's probably another quest completed on the way to being her younger and slightly shorter boyfriend.

"Yeah, uh, okay, Sullyoon," you manage, doing your best to hide the joy inside your heart. It works for a while. At the moment Sullyoon turns away, you ball your hands into fists to celebrate the worthwhile event quietly out of her sight.

After a while, your view of the side of the bus becomes stores and houses planted along the road. There are some traffic lights on the way to your accommodation, as opposed to none on the highway earlier. You've just entered the metropolitan area of the town.

It doesn't take long before the bus turns into a small street. In the front, there are a bunch of rest houses sitting beside the alley. You see pools behind the wall of a house. Your bus stops eventually, and being nearest to the exit, you're the first to get off the vehicle.

"Hey," Sullyoon calls, and you turn back to her, not forgetting to leave the walkway space for a few people to walk past you towards the exit. "Can I have your number?"

Your mouth hangs open slightly in shock as Sullyoon locks her doe eyes with yours. Seol Yoona just asked for your number, and you can't fucking believe this. Your hands are still operating, at least, as you just whip out your phone from your pocket and touch the top of it with Sullyoon's.

Your phone vibrates slightly as her contact appears on your screen. The profile picture is her ID picture, you think. It looks so formal, with Sullyoon as her display name.

"Great, I'll message you when we're ready," Sullyoon says with a nod. "Or you can just come by and hang around first. Either way works."

"Sure, I'll put my stuff in my bedroom and go to you guys," you assure her, and she seems to be happy with that.

Sullyoon's house looks just like yours. It's not even mirrored. There's a pool table on the left side of the entrance. You can walk into the house a bit to find a pool filled with water on the right. The television is in the same position. There's a fridge beside it. The clock says that it's about four in the evening. Still, Sullyoon is nowhere to be seen, so you just settle yourself on the couch in the middle of the room meekly.

After a while, a door beside the television opens, and someone comes out of it.

She's not Sullyoon, though — a bit shorter, sharper face. It's Oh Haewon, still in her bus clothes of a Hawaiian shirt and jeans.

In Sullyoon's social circle, she spends most of her time with five women: Lily Morrow, Oh Haewon, Bae Jinsol, Kim Jiwoo, and Jang Kyujin. They're in the engineering dance club together, after all. You've seen their performances at a number of events: the orientation day, the international night, and now, the house trip. In your humble opinion, they're deathly beautiful in their own styles, and in reality, so many people have crushes on them. Though none of them have ever made a single move out of fear and anxiety.

In the group, Sullyoon is the most popular, with Haewon coming in a close second ranking. It's more of a preference whether you prefer the cute, innocuous vibe of Sullyoon or the tomboyish, vulgar vibe of Haewon. You find yourself more fitting to Sullyoon's energy, though it's not that you find Haewon any less gorgeous.

"Hey," Haewon greets you with a small nod. "Sullyoon's partner, right?"

You gulp. "Yeah, I, uh, she told me that I can be here, so I'm here."

Haewon nods again receptively before walking towards the couch. She sits down not too far from you, and she grabs the remote to play something.

"Oh, there's Netflix," Haewon mutters, and she clicks on the icon. It brings her to a login screen, however. "Damn."

"I have Netflix," you blurt out in an effort to help Haewon.

"Aren't you staying at that house?" Haewon asks, pointing back to your villa. "What? Are you and Sullyoon secretly fucking or something?" She shoots you a suspicious look, seemingly piqued by the notion of your trysts with her friend.

You can't say a word as your eyes widen and your mouth hangs open. Your body freezes in your seat, unsure of how to respond to the fuckery Haewon just uttered. It's as if your heart just stops for a few seconds just to process Haewon's awfully forward question.

"What?" you manage, utterly and completely shocked. "We're not—"

Suddenly, Haewon bursts out into a boisterous laugh, moving from side to side in her seat. "Fucking hell, I'm sorry," and she reaches out towards you, pacifying the situation. "I know you guys just met. I was just fucking with ya, sorry again."

Your expression dissolves into a shy laugh along with Haewon. "Oh, well," you mutter between chuckles. "That's quite a welcome."

"Yeah, I shouldn't, no, I wouldn't do it if I had known," Haewon says as her laugh softens into a smile. She then hands you the remote in her hand. "Here, log in with your Netflix."

"Thanks," and you take the remote from Haewon. Your heartbeat slows down a bit, and you start working on logging into the pool villa's Netflix with your account that you're sharing with Taesan and a few of your friends.

"Well, with that out of the way," Haewon restarts the conversation. She scoots a little closer towards you, and you tense up again. Your fingers tremble slightly on your phone while trying to access your Netflix account. "Do you like Sullyoon? Like, as your senior match or whatever."

"She's wonderful! I like her vibe," you answer honestly, alternating your eyes between Haewon, your phone, and the television. It's quite a sensory overload here. "She's so kind to me."

"Yeah, she's lovely all around. It's her expertise," Haewon says, sinking herself into the cushion of the couch. "You two will get along, don't worry."

"I hope so."

You finally link your account to the television, and Haewon claps merrily at the success. The screen shows a few algorithmic suggestions, and it's clear that you're a film buff.

"Do you have any hate-watching suggestions while we're drunk?" Haewon asks.

"The Room, I think?"

"I believe you," and Haewon does a finger gun pointing at you. You just smile at her.

The sizzling from the grill fills the night air along with the splashes of water in the pool. The outdoor area of Sullyoon's house smells of cooked meat and beer. You're sitting in a chair shyly, scrolling Twitter as alcohol begins to set in. There are a few freshmen, including Taesan, and sophomores, including Bae, playing in the pool together. You and Sullyoon remain on the land still, talking about tedious topics and interests that become interesting just because it's Seol Yoona you're talking to.

"How has your freshman year been?" Sullyoon asks, swirling the contents of her can around a bit, and she takes a sip.

"It's fine, I guess," you respond without looking up from your phone. "Took some time before I settled in, even with Taesan."

Sullyoon chuckles. "I get it — new environment, new friends, yadda yadda." She takes a bite off her barbecue stick — green pepper — and Sullyoon asks you more with her mouth full of food, "Did anyone come with you? Like, from the same high school."

You look up from your phone to meet Sullyoon's eyes before answering, "Nope, I'm alone here. Was really lucky I met him in that dorm group."

Sullyoon nods at the same time a splash of water lands on her feet, and she flinches a little. You look at the pool to find Bae and Taesan smiling apologetically.

"Sorry," Bae says from the water. Sullyoon just accepts her apology with a nod.

"Anyway," Sullyoon restarts, turning back to you. The can of beer is still staying in her hand, and she takes another swig. "Let's talk about something more personal."

You look at her, puzzled by her statement. "Wasn't that already personal?" and you let out a chuckle to lighten the seriousness of the statement. You don't want her to feel intimidated by your words.

Sullyoon laughs, seemingly a little drunk now. "There are more personal things than you settling into college life, you know?"

You're still too shy with two cans of beer in your veins. However, you really want to get to know Sullyoon better than this. You can feel your vision getting a tad blurry, but she remains as gorgeous as ever — her eyes, her hair, her lips. God, you just want her to pin you against the wall and start whispering dehumanizing insults into your ear.

"I don't have a girlfriend or a boyfriend, if that's what you wanna know," you declare, picking up the can to take a sip out of shyness. You wonder how and why the hell you said that. It's not like you look good enough to have a romantic life.

Sullyoon chuckles, fidgeting with her almost-empty can. "Me too." You register the intoxication in her eyes and tone, eventually. Her off-the-perfect-cadence giggles ring in your ear canals against the noise from the pool and the grill. "I've been on a few dates in college, and they're all just fucking boring."

"Boring?" you probe her a bit.

Sullyoon stands up from the opposite seat, and she sashays towards another chair next to you. The act makes your inhibitions drop slightly — proximity and all. She reaches for the can of beer back at her seat, and you see how defined her arm muscles are — curves, veins, and strength. You'd really like her to lock your head with that.

"Yeah, they're" — she takes another sip — "they always try to please me, and I can see through that."

"Like, uh, what usually happens?" you ask more questions without much self-doubt. The tendency to second-guess your words seems to disappear bit by bit.

Sullyoon scoffs, then there's another sip before she answers, "They act weird. I don't know how to describe it." Sullyoon looks up into the sky, reiterating her thoughts, and you follow her vision to see the stars flickering on the pitch-black blanket of the nocturne. "They just don't stay true to themselves! Yeah, that's the word."

You ponder her words. Not staying true to oneself is something that you oppose, obviously, but you also have some concern if you're falling into that category by falling for her as well — agreeing to everything she says and pretending to be someone else.

"Do you think I act weird?" you blurt out in your drunken stupor. You're a tad concerned about dishonesty, and maybe you'd get a free compliment from her for being yourself for the last 12 hours since the first encounter.

"Do you have a crush on me or something?" Sullyoon teases, looking at you with playfulness in her eyes. That smirk is killing you. "Why the fuck would you even ask that?" and she chuckles lightly.

Your eyes widen as you regain your senses for a few seconds. Her words are powerful, and you just can't answer the question she's using to interrogate your heart. All that you can do is take a sip from your can to hide the color on your cheeks.

You don't register Sullyoon's hand on your shoulder for the first second of contact. Again, the alcohol is setting in hastily. Still, your heart beats faster when her body scent reaches your nose — sweat, perfume, and some beer — and you almost choke on your drink. Your hands tremble under the weight of reality and closeness. Her mouth is agape, as if ready to do something unpredictable. You look into her eyes. There is a lot that's going on in her pupils — energy, mischief, and perhaps some desire.

You stammer out, "Come, come again?" She smells so fucking wonderful, and you wouldn't mind one bit if she calls you weird as an answer.

Then, Sullyoon just chuckles in front of your face, and you just look at her, confused.

"Just messing with ya," she utters with a smile before pulling herself away from you. Sullyoon then clinks her can with yours gently. "I'm drunk as hell now, so please excuse me."

Shakily, you bring the can to your mouth again for another sip while chuckling awkwardly.

"And no, I don't think you act weird around me," Sullyoon says.

Your heart flutters at her answer. The urge to jump into the pool out of joy is strong, but you remain mostly still as you ask her, "Really?"

Sullyoon shrugs. "Yeah, at least from what I see, I think you're often honest."

"Often?"

Another splash of pool water finds your feet and Sullyoon's. Both of you jump at the coldness, and Sullyoon goes a little further than you by hissing at the swimmers.

She turns back to meet your eyes. "I think we're gonna get all wet by the time I finish explaining this frequency adjective to you," Sullyoon states, tilting her head slightly towards the sliding doors, and you get the notion in that instant.

"We're just gonna sit on the couch and watch The Room, right?"

"What the fuck is The Room?"

"I did not hit her, it's not true! It's bullshit! I did not hit her!" Tommy then throws his water bottle away. "I did not. Oh hi, Mark."

"Oh, hey Johnny, what's up?"

Sullyoon nods beside you on the living room couch, a different can of beer that's almost full in her hand. "I see the appeal now."

"There are a bunch of weird dialogues like this, by the way. This is just one of them," you add, taking a chug off your can. "It's a fucking goldmine."

Sullyoon smiles back at you. "Splendid."

"Do you actually smoke?"

"This is Haewon's."

"Where are yours?"

"I don't smoke."

There are two cans of beer sitting idly on the marble sink. The area of this room is generally too small for two people, but with this amount of distance, you're fitting into it perfectly. There's the smell of scented candles that reminds you of serenity, but again, the ecstasy you've been chasing is already in front of you.

"I'm not trying this," you decline with a profuse shake of your head.

"Weren't you chugging beer like crazy earlier?" Sullyoon scoffs, breath smells of fermented wheat. She picks up a lighter to ignite the cigarette in her hand. A line of smoke rises from the opposite end from where her fingers are holding it.

"It wasn't that crazy, to be fair," you whine back. "This is, like, my, uh."

Sullyoon laughs in your face with visible signs of late-stage intoxication: lack of balance, unfocused eyes, shaky hands. "It's your eighth can tonight, by the way," and she points her thumb to the side, to the cans on the sink.

She keeps track of your beer consumption history, apparently, and you tease back, giggling, "You like me enough to count?"

"What do you think?" she plays coy, bringing the stick closer to the mouth. She doesn't take a drag yet, and you just observe the light at the end of it flickering in a slow rhythm. "Am I being a responsible sophomore, or am I having a crush on a person whom I've just met this morning?"

And you're snapped back into reality for a heartbeat. Within that timeframe, it's clear that you need more time and familiarity with Sullyoon to build her trust. You're a bit gutted that it's not so soon, to be honest, but you just hide any trace of that feeling with a small laugh.

"A person can dream, I guess," you blurt out, so unaware of how cocky you look.

"Yeah, I know I'm hot," Sullyoon scoffs, and her lips finally touch the cigarette. You watch her suck in air through her mouth. It's devastatingly attractive. Then, a puff of smoke hits your face, eliciting a few coughs from you, and you wonder how the hell she doesn't struggle with taking a drag.

"That wasn't" — and there's another cough — "hot."

"You're being obtuse," Sullyoon scoffs again. You're irked by her confidence a bit, but a part of you also finds that, in a sense, hot.

"I don't wanna get cancer," you deflect, trying your best to look strong in front of Sullyoon. Still, with this shorter height and younger age, you probably look deathly cute to her instead of intimidating. To make matters worse, she's ruffling your hair with a smile that's just making your muscles go wobbly against the bathroom door.

"You're a terrible liar," Sullyoon jokes. "I'll show you something."

Sullyoon takes another drag — soft, awfully quiet, glittering at the tip of her stick. She brings her other hand up to your mouth, and you flinch a bit out of the last remnants of your humility. Still, Sullyoon's thumb chases your lips and pries your mouth open gently. You loosen your jaw as her face moves closer towards yours.

A puff of white cloud leaves her mouth with a small push of air from her lungs, and you close your eyes once it reaches you. You block your trachea. The gust just rages in your mouth, and you let it stay there for a bit. You think you've seen this before — Joachim Trier's lens. And if your memory isn't too fuzzy and altered, what Sullyoon is doing to you right now looks stunningly ethereal.

Her breath is hot against your face. Her thumb burns your lips. Her smoke scorches the inside of your cheeks. It's one chillingly gorgeous spectacle if someone happens to stumble into this bathroom — the closeness, the white curls, the cadence of her chuckle afterwards. Seol Yoona is blowing smoke from her mouth into yours.

And you're pretty sure that Renate and Herbert are going to be ecstatic seeing you and Sullyoon reenacting their image.

A few heartbeats later, you blow a gust out of your lungs and open your eyes again. You're greeted with the sight of the dissolving vapor in front of Sullyoon's angelic features. She chuckles heartily, and she doesn't make a scene of brushing the cloud away. Her thumb is still on your lips, prying your mouth open with minimal force. She looks dreadfully pretty under the bathroom light and a layer of white puff.

"It's called shotgunning, I think," Sullyoon finally breaks the silence, and you just hum back at her as an affirmation. "I like it when we just stay like this."

"Like what?" you utter dumbly. Your brain seems to be completely fried from that puff, and you can only repeat her words and express agreement at this point.

"Close, but not too close," Sullyoon huffs before taking another drag, then there's another shotgunning. The cloud spins in your mouth, and you push it out softly. The whiteness dissipates into Sullyoon smiling in front of you and continuing her answer, "It's thrilling."

You're all dazed and enchanted by her spell — smoke and perfume. Your heart is yearning for more of her touch than just the thumb on your lips and the white puffs. You want to chase her lips, but the threat of losing her wholly looms over you. This entire thing is a thriller, honestly.

You gulp. "We're going to do this until—"

"It burns out, yeah," and Sullyoon winks. "Fun, isn't it?"

You rest your back against the door. "Then what?"

Sullyoon scoffs, and she ruffles your hair again tenderly. You just melt without an ounce of resistance — wobbly legs, slack arms. Her other hand is still holding the stick between her fingers. There's a line of smoke floating from the bright end.

"I don't know, really," Sullyoon answers your question, hand leaving your hair and reaching for her beer on the side. Your eyes are locked on the light from her cigarette, only to be told, "Look at me, pretty boy."

The name sends a shiver down your spine, obviously, and you shift your gaze back to her. She looks gorgeous as always: eyes, nose, lips. Now, with the label, you'd really love to just let her do whatever the hell she pleases with you.

"You look like a delicacy," Sullyoon says, and she takes another sip off her can. The alcohol helps your heart from beating too fast from the notion of you being her metaphorical dinner to satiate her apparent lust. "I wanna fucking devour you, to be honest."

Her eyes are still locked on yours. The duration of the prolonged eye contact should make you feel uneasy under sobriety, but you're leaning in closer towards Sullyoon as she puts her can away from her mouth. You're met with the sight of her wet lips glistening in the low light of the bathroom. Suddenly, however, Sullyoon pushes you back with her beer can against the door, eliciting a moan out of your mouth, knocking the air out of your lungs.

"Do as I say, pretty boy," Sullyoon commands, moving so awfully close to you that her lips almost touch yours. She doesn't make a show of smoking into your mouth anymore. The distance is gnawing at your heart, but with that assertion, you don't dare closing that gap.

You smile weakly with the surmounting excitement running in your veins. It's really happening right now — the golden, clear-cut chance with your crush. Your heart is hammering inside your chest. Your fingers quiver incessantly. Your pupils are certainly dilating.

Still, the playful edge in you emerges for a bit. "What if I don't?"

Sullyoon smirks, and a scoff leaves her mouth. "I'm sure you're not that stupid, right?"

"Definitely," and you chuckle in her face. It's disgustingly brave. "Maybe."

Sullyoon tilts her head a bit, then she faux begs, "Take off your shorts, pretty please?"

There's a certain kind of teasing in your movements as you remove the garments from your waist. It's to your best knowledge from being an engineering student. It's to your utmost ability to move when having a beer can on your chest and the bathroom door on your back. You don't really expect her to be more aroused by the swaying of your hips or the sultry-drunk expressions from you.

Sullyoon smiles at your enthusiasm, at least. You're elated with that. Then, she peers down to see your lush hair seeping from under the shorts.

"You don't even trim it," she states, still pinning you against the door with her beer can. The force lessens a bit, though. "Fucking disgusting," and she completes her insult with a devilish smile.

You push your boxers and shorts down further, lifting your legs to help with the removal. At a certain point, your cock springs out with eagerness, spreading precum over her casual clothes. Your body is shivering with anticipation and anxiety, while Sullyoon observes the entirety of you, taking a few drags and blowing the smoke onto your face.

Eventually, your bottom half is free of clothes. The vulnerability is terrifying under Sullyoon's impish expression. Her eyes scan all over your exposed body just to elicit some more goosebumps on your skin. You're smiling weakly out of intoxication, regardless. Your affection for her is running deadly deep.

She takes a drag, removing the can from your chest. You feel you can breathe properly again. There's this slightly numbing pain in your ribs, but you're too drunk and lusted-out to give any fucks about that. She's taller than you are. She's older than you are. She's stronger than you are. This is nauseatingly perfect.

"Go to the toilet," Sullyoon issues another order, and she moves out of the way to let you walk with boxers and pants on your ankles.

You take a few clumsy steps to the toilet, feeling Sullyoon's eyes on you. It's probably the natural response for you to feel the need to pee upon seeing the ceramic bowl. So, you aim your hard cock towards the water body. It's difficult with an erection, but—

"I've always wanted to do this." Sullyoon's chest is pressed against your back. Her left hand slides all over your abdomen, while the right is still holding the borrowed cigarette and the beer can. Of course, you moan with pleasure and her warmth. She stops around your lushness above your cock, eventually, and she gives it a soft press.

"Fuck," you whine whorishly. She gives it another press, and the tingle in your bladder becomes stronger. You can barely stand right now.

"Piss for Mommy, pretty boy, piss all that beer out," Sullyoon coos, and you feel her chin on your right shoulder. She takes another inhale of the nicotine, and you can only watch the smoke flying out of her mouth from beside you. Her left hand moves down a little more to help with the aim under the state of erection. She wraps her hand around your cock, bending it down a bit more.

That's when it starts for you.

There's the sound of your fluid hitting the water body in the toilet — slightly yellowish. Your body loosens up a bit. Sullyoon hums approvingly as a response, then, "It's so hard. I'm sure it's because of me, right?"

"Yes, Mommy," you speak, the moniker slipping out too easily. Your eyes are locked on your firmly held shaft that's still leaking.

Sullyoon takes another drag, blowing the smoke below her. The cloud envelops your cock, and you find the image somewhat cinematic, to be honest. You keep your piss consistent, forcing it out of the bladder in a powerful stream against the ceramic and the toilet water.

"Mommy's pissy boy," Sullyoon whispers, prompting a moan out of your mouth. Your pliability has never reached such high, and it's Seol Yoona — your crush — who helps turn your brain into a mush. "You're such a nasty little slut."

You repeat mindlessly, "I'm Mommy's pissy boy. I'm Mommy's little slut."

Sullyoon puts the cigarette into your mouth, blowing a puff into your right ear. The cloud is warm on your lobe. The drag is warm between your lips. "Take a drag, pretty boy."

You're too stupid and wasted right now to resist. There's a cough when the smoke hits those tiny bags in your lungs, and puffs leave your mouth. The stick doesn't fall, still. That's your first time smoking, and being held by the cock by your crush while pissing does elevate the experience by a margin.

Down below, your stream goes down in its intensity. A straight line becomes a curved one, and a curved one becomes droplets. The noise coming from the ceramic becomes quieter, and Sullyoon helps you shake the last few beads out of your slit. Your body can barely stand up now. You can just collapse within Sullyoon's embrace, really.

She holds you like that for a while, letting you bask in her warmth and your own vulnerability. You let out a few whines from between your lips as the drag remains in your mouth. Every breath is punctuated with a puff leaving with the moans. Then, Sullyoon sways from side to side languidly, and you follow promptly. She's humming some tune that you don't recognize — perfect cadence, almost somber tone.

"Such a good boy for Mommy," Sullyoon praises you, chin still on your right shoulder. Your heart jumps at the compliment, obviously, as you dance along with her.

"Thank you, Mommy," you say feebly, a bit muffled by the cigarette. Sullyoon reclaims it from your mouth with her fingers, eventually. Another puff is blown out of her mouth.

"Almost burned out," Sullyoon says.

Your eyes are still looking into the wall in front of you, mostly thoughtlessly except for the movements and her care. "What's burning out?" you ask, shifting your weight between the legs for the nocturnal waltz.

Another exhale, another white gust, another hum — Sullyoon answers, "The drag — this is my only one."

"Ask for one more from Haewon, Mommy."

But Sullyoon just stays there, hugging you from behind, lingering with you. Her left hand is still on your hard cock. A few more puffs pass by your ear as you two move from side to side. The room smells of scented candles.

"I wanna stay like this," Sullyoon finally says, and she presses the cigarette against the wall in front of you. There's an inky mark on the vast whiteness of the bathroom wall. "You smell like beer, by the way," and she finally takes a deep breath from something that isn't a cigarette: you.

The exposure to Sullyoon's proximity just pierces all of your defenses. Just this morning, if someone told you that you'll be in this situation — your crush holding your dick while you're peeing — you'd tell them to fuck the hell off. Right now, you don't know if it's the alcohol that's doing the talking, but you think it's real — her affection, her body against yours, her words.

Within her embrace, you've never felt weaker than right now.

"I like you."