miss kim will see you now.
By the time they stumble through Minjeong’s apartment door, both of them are laughing too hard to properly function.
“Well,” he says as she fumbles slightly with the lock, one hand braced against the wall beside her, “this is significantly nicer than my building.”
Minjeong snorts softly, kicking the door shut behind them once they finally make it inside. “That’s because my elevator doesn’t smell like piss and recreational crime.”
His laughter follows her immediately into the apartment, warm and slightly breathless now from alcohol and lingering tension.
The city glows softly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan spread out beneath the rain in streaks of gold and white light. Somewhere below, traffic hums endlessly through wet streets. But Minjeong barely notices any of it. Because he’s here. Standing in her apartment with damp curls falling over his forehead and flushed cheeks from whiskey and laughter, looking entirely too comfortable in her space already.
“You’re staring again,” he murmurs knowingly.
Minjeong slips her heels off near the door without breaking eye contact. “You’re in my apartment. I’m assessing the threat level.”
‘’And?’’
Minjeong doesn’t respond. Instead, she finds herself watching his mouth. Then, before she can think better of it, her hand slides up the front of his sweater, fingers curling lightly against the warm skin at the back of his neck as she kisses him first.
Not tentative. Not careful. Bold enough that it catches him completely off guard.
He makes a soft sound against her lips - somewhere between surprise and approval - before his hands find her waist almost instantly, pulling her flush against him.
Minjeong presses him backward a step instead this time, lips moving against his with enough confidence to make him laugh softly into her mouth. But this time, she refuses to let him control the pace of it. Refuses to let herself overthink every feeling threatening to surface between them.
She kisses him harder. One hand tangled firmly in his hair now, the other sliding beneath the edge of his sweater as though she needs proof he’s actually here in her apartment. Warm skin. Strong muscle shifting beneath her fingertips. His breath catches sharply when her nails drag lightly across his stomach.
Minjeong notices immediately. And for the first time all evening, she realises something dangerously intoxicating: He likes giving up control to her just as much as she likes taking it. The thought settles low and heavy in her stomach. Interesting.
His hands remain at her waist when she kisses him again, slower this time, deliberately stealing the air from his lungs while guiding him backward through the apartment hallway. He follows easily. Too easily.
“You’re staring again,” she murmurs softly against his mouth.
“You’re suddenly terrifying.”
“Mm.” Her fingers tighten lightly in his hair, tilting his head back just enough to expose more of his throat. “And yet you keep following me.”
A strangled sound leaves him then. Half laugh. Half something rougher.
Minjeong feels heat rush through her immediately at the effect she’s having on him. Because this is different from before. At his apartment, she’d spent half the night overwhelmed by how intensely he wanted her. How carefully he touched her. How gently he unravelled her piece by piece. But here? Here she gets to watch him come apart instead.
She pushes him lightly backward until his knees hit the edge of the sofa, and for the first time all evening, he looks genuinely caught off guard. His hands settle against her waist to steady them both, but Minjeong keeps moving, pushing him gently until he sinks slowly down onto the cushions.
Minjeong watches him for a second longer before slowly settling herself into his lap. The movement pulls a sharp breath from him immediately. There it was again. That completely unguarded reaction she was starting to enjoy far too much.
One of his hands slides along her thigh beneath the slit of her dress, steadying her against him as she shifts closer, knees pressing into either side of his hips.
“Fucking hell,” he murmurs softly, head tipping briefly back against the sofa.
Minjeong smiles slightly at that.
“What happened to all that confidence from the bar, baby?” she asks, fingertips brushing lightly through the dark hair falling over his forehead.
His eyes lift back to hers slowly.
“It’s difficult to maintain,” he says carefully, “when you’re looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re about to eat me alive.”
A quiet laugh slips from her before she can stop it.
Minjeong’s fingers trail slowly from his jaw down the side of his throat, fingers lingering. She feels the way his pulse quickens beneath her touch almost immediately.
“You know, for someone who flirts as much as you do, you sure do get nervous real quick.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Mhm.”
“I’m overwhelmed.”
His hands tighten gently at her waist, thumbs brushing slowly against the fabric of her dress while his gaze drifts over her face with an openness that feels almost unfair.
“You have any idea how beautiful you are?” he murmurs softly.
Minjeong recovers quickly enough to lean closer instead, lips brushing lightly against the corner of his mouth.
“You’re getting soft on me.”
His laugh is quieter now.
“You and I know that it’s quite the opposite,” he whispers, tongue coming out to wet his lips.
For a moment, neither of them moves.
The city hums softly outside the windows, rain streaking gold across the glass while Manhattan glows endlessly beneath them. The light spills across his face in soft amber lines as Minjeong remains perched in his lap, one hand still curled loosely around his neck. Close enough to feel the slow rise and fall of his breathing beneath her fingertips. Close enough to notice the exact moment his restraint starts slipping again.
Minjeong leans closer slowly, brushing her mouth lightly beneath his jaw this time instead of kissing him properly. She feels the sharp exhale that leaves him immediately.
“You know what I think?” she murmurs softly, lips brushing near his ear again, “I think you like being told what to do.”
A quiet sound leaves him immediately, his grip around her waist tightens just slightly.
Minjeong smiles against his skin. Her hand slides slowly from his throat down to the center of his chest, fingertips grazing the warm skin visible beneath the collar of his sweater before catching lightly on the gold chain resting there. She hooks one finger beneath it lazily.
Immediately, he goes completely still beneath her.
Minjeong tilts her head slightly, watching him carefully as she gives the chain one slow pull, just enough to guide him closer again.