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Jun-hee’s had the idea brewing in her head for a few months now. It’d first struck two weeks before she’d finally left Myung-gi — that idiotic fight they’d had over the college prep Jun-hee had been doing. Like she was cheating on him with school or something. She’s not even sure where the hell he’d pulled the accusation from considering he was the one who’d ghosted her a week prior. But when she’d turned the argument around on him — the way his expression had fallen when Jun-hee mentioned that purple-haired fuck who’d been borderline harassing him all semester — it came to her like a cartoonish lightbulb moment.
It wasn’t really something serious at first. More of something she thought about after re-hashing something ugly about Myung-gi in her head to make herself feel better. ‘Wouldn’t it be so funny if I fucked that guy’ she’d think after remembering a rant her ex had gone on for hours on end about how tired he was of being attacked for something that wasn’t his fault (though, between Jun-hee and her diary, it absolutely was Myung-gi’s fault). She’d always told him BitCoin was a waste of time.
But after a month of Myung-gi begging Jun-hee to take him back, she decided enough was enough. There was really only one way to make him stop because the damn fool won’t take no for an answer — Jun-hee should’ve known she wouldn’t truly be free after dumping him. He’s like a cockroach.
So Jun-hee hides the shake in her hand as she taps the guy’s shoulder from behind. She’s been keeping a closer eye on him the last few weeks, following his schedule in her head. She knows his first and fourth period and where he sits at lunch with who she assumes are his friends. He turns around, a confused huff leaving him.
“Can I fucking help—” He cuts himself off, looking down at Jun-hee. The anger drains from his face as soon as he processes who he’s looking at, “Ah, you’re MG Coin’s girl, right?”
“Uhm, no. ” Jun-hee corrects immediately, the idea of being attached to that nitwit anymore annoying her far more than it probably should.
“Oh.” He says, “Then how can I help you, Señorita?”
Jun-hee cringes at the name (that can not be one that stays if her plan comes to fruition), “I have a, uhm, proposition I think you’d like.”
The man smirks, his head tilting to the side. He crosses his arms and Jun-hee takes it as a sign to continue. She clears her throat, re-gaining her confidence and trying to remember the speech she’d practiced in the mirror all week.
“You have an ongoing beef with Myung-gi; he hates you and I can only assume you feel the same about him.” Jun-hee says matter-of-fact, “And I also happen to hate Myung-gi.”
“Really? I thought you were his high school sweetheart or whatever.”
“I left him.” Jun-hee informs, “And he won’t leave me alone, so I was thinking… ”
She loses her momentum, realizing how fucking stupid she’s about to sound asking a complete stranger out under the pretense of pissing off her ex. She swallows, taking a deep breath and speaking quickly on the exhale.
“I was thinking you and I fake a relationship so he’ll leave me alone.” Jun-hee spits quickly.
Jun-hee tries to stand strong, her hands curled into fists at her sides like a determined toddler. Her lips are pressed together, watching the man in front of her contemplate the proposal she just made.
“He’s a deadbeat.” Jun-hee feels the need to clarify, unable to keep at bay the snarl that forms on her face — it’s inevitable when she thinks of that dumbfuck.
“A deadbeat?”
“A bum.” She says, rewording.
“Alright.” He agrees almost immediately.
“ Really? ” Jun-hee asks without meaning to, “I mean— Sorry, I just assumed you were, like, gay.”
The guy's arms fall to his sides, his face almost offended, “ What? Why?”
“‘Cause of your, y’know,” She motions vaguely behind him to the man with the greasy short hair who’s been staring at them this whole time, “ your shadow. ”
“What? He’s not—” He cuts himself off as he turns around to look at the other guy too. He sighs, turning back to Jun-hee, “No, yeah, that’s fair.”
Jun-hee snorts — maybe this guy is funny. Her brows furrow, “I don’t know your name.”
“You want to date me—”
“ Fake date.”
“—and you don’t even know my name?” The purple-haired man feigns offense, “I’m Thanos.”
He sticks his hand out, Jun-hee does not take it. She did know his name, but there’s no way in hell she’s referring to her new fake boyfriend as Thanos. She could barely take Myung-gi seriously when he vented about a Thanos who kicked his ass in the bathroom during class.
“I’m not fucking call you that.” She deadpans, “What’s your actual name?”
“Su-bong, Choi Su-bong.” He says, defeated, “And yours?”
“Kim Jun-hee.” She finally takes his hand, “Do we have a deal, Su-bong?”
Thanos shakes her hand, nodding.
—
Despite the millions of doubts Jun-hee had about how well this plan would go considering her non-existent relationship with Thanos prior to this, it actually goes a lot smoother than she’d expected. Thanos, in spite of everyone else's descriptors of that little freak, treats Jun-hee with a kindness Jun-hee didn’t know still existed in this world. She begins to hang out with his friends at lunch — y’know, relationship things.
Jun-hee never hung out with Myung-gi’s friends (not that she ever really wanted to). But the thought would’ve been nice. Although, Jun-hee’s not really sure Myung-gi actually had friends. He talked to people, sure, but did he actually have a group? Did he have a support system behind him when Jun-hee unceremoniously dumped him? He’d spent a few lunches with her group, and just about immediately all her friends decided they were not fans.
‘He hisses his s’s, Jun-hee. It’s weird. He’s weird, like a snake.’ Dae-ho had said. She should’ve listened.
Thanos’s friends are nice though. However, Jun-hee wishes they weren’t all high just about twenty-four/seven. He introduces her to the group as his girl with an arm around her shoulders and a smile on his face the first time. Pretty much all of them were shocked. The greasy one ( Nam-gyu, Jun-hee learns his name is) looked like he’d wanted to bite her head off. Maybe she should be worried about that one. She chooses to ignore him instead.
“I like your piercing.” Se-mi smiles at her from across the table, pointing to her own eyebrow to mimic the metal on the other girl’s.
Jun-hee sits down, “ Thanks, I like yours.”
Se-mi picks at her bottom lip, “Did you do it yourself?”
“ Mhm, ” Jun-hee hums, suddenly shyer than a moment ago, “you?”
“Not my lip, friend did it.”
“Cool.” Jun-hee says, quiet.
“Yeah.” Se-mi replies, just as quiet.
The smile on her face is just faint enough that Jun-hee believe’s she’s making it up. She finally tears her eyes away, turning to the rest of the table. Nam-gyu is now pointedly not looking at her at all — Jun-hee is unsure if that is better or worse.
Gyeong-su elbows Thanos’s left side, grinning, “You bagged a baddie, Thanos!”
Jun-hee clears her throat, glaring at both men.
“ Sorry. ” Gyeong-su apologizes.
—
“Thanos.” Dae-ho says like a disappointed father, “ Thanos? ”
“Su-bong.” Jun-hee corrects cringing, as if saying his legal name will convince her friend she isn’t clinically ill right now and is of sound mind.
“Why.” Dae-ho deadpans like he’s begging, less of a question and more of a plea for her to be joking, “Why on God’s green earth would you choose him of all people?”
“Well—”
Dae-ho cuts her off, “No no, actually, how long have you liked him? And you just never thought to mention it to me? Did other people know? Am I the last person in our group to find out?”
Jun-hee has not broken it to her friend group that this is fake. Listen, she loves them all deeply, okay? Especially Dae-ho, his family let her crash on their couch more times than she can count. But Jun-hee’s never been able to trust a single one of them with a secret. Hyun-ju tries, she really does, but it always ends up slipping during conversations. And Dae-ho genuinely can’t keep a secret to save his life. This whole plan kind of only works if Myung-gi thinks their relationship is real. And if Jun-hee lets it slip that she and Thanos are not actually together, then the whole thing is going down and she’s going to look like the idiot.
So Jun-hee sighs and swallows her pride, “I’ve liked him for a few months now.”
It feels odd to say, the thought had definitely been in her head for a while, so it’s not technically lying. Omission doesn’t count as lying, does it? Jun-hee’s gonna give that a no.
“ Months?! ” Dae-ho shouts loud enough for the other people in the gym to hear. Jun-hee quickly shushes him, putting her hands over his mouth. Dae-ho’s brows furrow above her hands. He pushes them off his face, lowering his tone, “You liked him for months and you never thought to mention it to, oh, I don’t know, your best friend? ”
Jun-hee puts her hands up, trying to smooth this whole thing over before people start glaring at them, “Listen listen listen, I’m sorry, okay? I was just, uhm, embarrassed. ”
“Well yeah, I would be embarrassed if I liked someone willingly named Thanos too.”
“Enough—” Jun-hee glares at him.
“ Sorry. ”
—
Thanos finds her after second period, wrapping an arm around her shoulders a little too possessively, “Since you’re my girl now, you have to come to parties with me.”
Jun-hee fails to shrug his arm off and accepts her fate, choosing not to look up at him, “First of all: don’t call me that. Second: I have to?”
Thanos smirks, clearly amused by her resistance, “Yes, you have to. It’s part of the package. What kind of fake girlfriend skips the social obligations?”
Jun-hee side-eyes him, unimpressed, “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re contractually obligated to pretend to like me,” He says, steering her toward the lockers, “We have to sell this thing, it was your idea, remember?”
She sighs, dragging her feet just enough to annoy him, “ Fine. But I’m not drinking anything unless I open it myself, and, if anyone touches me, I’m kicking them in the throat.”
“You’re hot when you threaten people,” He mumbles, mostly to himself. Jun-hee isn’t sure if he’s still playing Mr. Boyfriend when he says that — she’s not sure if she really wants to know.
Jun-hee, finally, shoves his arm off, “Try that again and I’m kicking you in the throat too.”
He holds up both hands, backing off with a grin, “ Noted. Pick you up at eight, girlfriend.” He winks.
“That’s not a viable pet-name either.”
“ I’ll keep trying! ” Thanos calls as he walks backwards through the crowded hall.
—
Jun-hee’s never been to a party before — a few birthdays in elementary, sure, but never a real party. She’s never really been in the right crowd to get invited to one (not that she cared ).
The second she steps into the house, the air hits her like a wall — thick with heat, music, and the kind of smell that clung to your hair: something sweet and sticky undercut with sharp, sour alcohol. The bass rattles in her ribcage like it’s trying to shake something loose, and she feels every beat in her teeth. The lights are low except for the cheap LED strips curling around the ceiling, cycling between pink, purple, and a dull, oceanic blue.
There’s so many people here that it’s almost dizzying. Bodies swaying in the living room, half-drunk conversations spilling into the kitchen, people pressed shoulder-to-shoulder down the hallway. Jun-hee keeps her chin up like she’s not phased, but she’s painfully aware of the fact that this is the kind of room she’s never belonged in. She’s not here because she was invited by anyone who matters, she’s here because of her association with the man whose hand is tightly clasped in her own, leading Jun-hee towards the kitchen.
She’d be invisible if it weren’t for Thanos.
His height alone makes him impossible to miss, not to mention his stupid bright purple hair ( seriously, why is he fucking purple). Thanos lets go of her hand, only to grab two drinks from the fridge like he owns the place, before it immediately finds its way back onto Jun-hee. His hand rests on the small of her back as he uses his teeth to pull up the can tab and open his drink. Jun-hee opens hers like a normal person, ignoring the warmth bleeding from Thanos’s palm through her shirt and onto her skin. Goosebumps bloom over her arms and she prays no one notices.
Across the kitchen, Myung-gi is watching. He’s angry, Jun-hee can tell. Not because he’s making some obvious facial expression, a grimace or frown. No, because she can see the vague twitch in the corner of his lips and the way his hand is tightly gripping his drink in his hand like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. Despite the fact that they’re in a public place where Myung-gi had to have been invited, Jun-hee can’t help but feel she’s being stalked. She leans more into Thanos’s side, if only to piss off Myung-gi a little more.
When Jun-hee looks back up at Thanos, he’s talking to some guy she’s never seen before. Even with his close proximity, she can barely make out the words he’s saying over the loud thumping music. But his eyes keep glancing between Thanos and herself and it’s making her a little uncomfortable.
And then she hears him, “ Is that your girl for real? ”
Thanos nods, his arm wrapping fully around her waist now. The guy smirks, “Thought she was with that loser, what’s his name—?”
“MG Coin.” The stupid nickname rolls off his tongue easily, “Nah, she left him for me.”
“No she fucking didn’t.” Myung-gi growls, crossing the kitchen to meet the other two teenagers.
Thanos pushes off the counter now, his arm falling away from Jun-hee’s body — she shivers. The guy who’d been speaking to him lets out a little ‘ooo’ as Myung-gi reaches them.
“She did not ‘leave me’ for you, those two instances were completely unrelated.” Jun-hee always thought Myung-gi looked so ugly when he gets angry. There's this vein that pops out on his forehead and his lips make this gross snarl when he speaks. It really doesn’t suit him.
“Are we sure about that?”
“She doesn’t even like you.” Myung-gi snaps, “She’s just fucking using you to make me jealous.”
He finally looks Jun-hee in the eye, his anger morphing into that awful beg, and Jun-hee knows what’s coming before he even opens his mouth again, “And it’s working, okay? I get it, Jun-hee, I fucked up. Please leave this weirdo and come back to me.”
“Are you kidding?” Jun-hee can’t help but respond, “ God, Myung-gi, not everything is about you. I’m my own person.”
“ See, ” She hears the grin in Thanos’s voice, “she doesn’t care about you anymore, Myung-gi.”
“Prove it.” Jun-hee’s ex spits.
“ What? ”
“I said prove it.” His eyes are wild, moving back and forth between Thanos and Jun-hee over and over. It used to scare Jun-hee when he got like this, “If you’re really dating, prove it. Kiss. ”
“You’re so fucking childish, Myung-gi, seriously? ” Jun-hee rolls her eyes.
But the crowd that formed from the three other people in the kitchen with them is now on her exes side, if only for some form of entertainment. Around them, semi-yelled chants begin. Kiss kiss kiss is all Jun-hee hears and she realizes now that maybe she shouldn’t have come to this party. But now she’s in too deep to back out — both into the party and this stupid lie she’s holding between her and the man beside her. So, fuck it, she thinks as she turns to face Thanos.
He looks back down at her, face soft in a way she’s had yet to see.
“ Are you sure? ” He says, just loud enough for her.
And while Jun-hee appreciates his request for consent, they’re taking too long if they really wanna sell this. So Jun-hee nods quickly and reaches up to grab his face, pulling him down to crush their lips harder than she’d planned. Their teeth clack and Jun-hee swears she feels it buzz in her skull. Thanos takes her face in his hands too, catching up to match her energy. The three-person crowd around them cheers, which Jun-hee finds stupid because none of these people know or care about them. It’s not long, it doesn’t get any deeper or hotter or intimate. It’s enough to sell that they’re comfortably together, having been ‘public’ for a few weeks now. Jun-hee realizes Thanos is the second person she’s ever kissed and can’t help but compare it to the man voyeuristically watching them.
They pull away, Jun-hee taking a deeper breath than she’d meant to (it wasn’t that fervent, God ). Thanos is looking down at her with these pupils she’s never seen before. Not from anyone who’s ever looked her way, definitely not from Myung-gi. His thumb moves down from her cheek, swiping just beneath her lower-lip.
“You’ve got lipstick—” His voice is quieter now than before, and his thumb grazes the corner of her mouth, wiping away the smudge that’s wandered toward her chin. His touch is light, but it sends a shiver through her all the same. His smirk is gone.
—
They meet in the emptied out music room after the final bell rings. Thanos is already leaning against the teacher's desk when Jun-hee walks in, dropping her bag by the door. He has headphones in, head bobbing along to whatever music is playing in his ears. Jun-hee clears her throat, though she’s not sure if he actually heard it or if he just saw her through his peripherals as he takes the headphone out.
“We need to practice.” Jun-hee states, matter of fact, She crosses her arms as Thanos cocks an eyebrow.
“Practice what exactly?”
“Kissing.” Her voice comes off as though this was the obvious answer, though Jun-hee knows she probably sounds really stupid right now.
Thanos stares at her without responding. His lips part, though nothing comes out and his head tilts like he’s examining the girl across from him.
“What happened at the party can’t happen again.” Jun-hee explains, “We have to be more prepared, seem more comfortable with each other.”
“See, you say that, but you won’t let me call you pet names.”
“Your pet names are fucking stupid, make better ones.”
Thanos puts his hands up in surrender, “My fault gang.” He drops his hands, licking his lips before speaking again, “What, was that, like, your first kiss or something? Myung-gi not treat you right?”
“ What? No, that’s not—” Jun-hee pinches the bridge of her nose, icking herself out with her next response, “We made out plenty of times.”
“So what is the point of practicing?”
“So on the off chance we have to kiss in front of people again, we won’t look caught off guard.”
Thanos smirks, “Seems like you’re just looking for an excuse to kiss me again.”
Jun-hee almost tells him to kill himself ( almost ). Maybe fake-dating the school-known idiot wasn’t the best plan she’s ever formed. It’s a wonder he’s managed to keep the friends he has for this long, Jun-hee doesn’t know why Se-mi doesn’t go find someone more her style to hang out with. She should just call it off at this point, tell everyone dating him was, in fact, a mistake. She can find other ways to piss off Myung-gi in her spare time — ways that don’t involve having to gentle-parent her way through every interaction with someone willingly named after a Marvel villain.
“ Hey, ” That damn soft tone he’d had at the party. Jun-hee looks up again, “we can do whatever you need. It’s your plan, not mine.”
Jun-hee shifts her weight, chewing at the inside of her cheek, “Fine.” She says finally, like she’s signing a contract she’ll regret, “But don’t be weird about it.”
Thanos grins, predictably smug, “Me? Never. ”
She ignores him, stepping closer. The air feels thinner the shorter the space becomes between them, and Thanos, of course, doesn’t move an inch. He just watches her — like this is entertainment, like he knew she’d fold eventually.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re waiting for me to—” She doesn’t finish the thought, doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she grabs at the collar of his hoodie, tugging him down just enough to crash her mouth against his.
It’s clumsy at first, a hard press of lips, no finesse. Jun-hee squeezes her eyes shut, willing herself not to think about it, not to overanalyze — but Thanos makes a low sound in his throat, like he wasn’t expecting her to be so forceful, and his hand finds her jaw. His thumb skims along her cheekbone, steadying her as he tilts his head, and suddenly the kiss slots together differently — smoother, deeper.
Jun-hee pulls back just enough to breathe, their mouths brushing, then dives back in before either of them can second-guess it. Their noses bump, teeth click, but neither of them stop. It’s heat and repetition, pulling apart only long enough to be dragged right back in.
Thanos laughs softly against her mouth, which only makes her kiss him harder, if only to shut him up. His other hand friends Jun-hee’s hip, fingers curling at the hem of her uniform shirt like he’s not sure if he’s allowed more, but Jun-hee doesn’t push him away. If anything, it anchors her rather than startling her (which she actively chooses to ignore the implications of). She fists the fabric of his hoodie in return, anchoring herself, tugging him closer every time she leans back in.
He pulls away this time, smirking down at her despite his flushed face and heavy breathing. Jun-hee rolls her eyes, though the flush at her cheeks betrays her. “Again. But better this time.”
(Whatever that means.)
There’s a rhythm building between them — messy, addictive. Her lips are tingling, his breathing’s uneven, and every time they separate, they come back hungrier, like something magnetic is pulling them together.
When they finally pause long enough to catch their breath, Jun-hee realizes her chest is rising and falling too quickly. Thanos’s lips are pink, a little swollen. He grins at her like he knows exactly what he looks like right now.
“ So… ” He murmurs, voice lower, “how many more reps you think we need?”
Her nails dig into his shoulder on instinct, “Say that again and I’ll leave you here.”
—
It’s pouring rain. It’s six in the morning, the sun is still actively rising, and Jun-hee is walking to school in the pouring rain. She has a license, okay? Self-taught with Hyun-ju’s borrowed car last summer under the guise of her own car being ‘in the shop’. Jun-hee does not have a car, her parents don’t exactly care to spend unnecessary expenses on her. And the bus is full of creeps that stand too close behind her, out of Jun-hee’s peripherals where she can keep an eye on where their hands go. So she walks. Myung-gi used to drive her, even offered to continue after they split. But Jun-hee stood firm on her ‘absolutely fucking not, don’t come near my home ever again’. Plus, she likes walking — usually, when the rain isn’t beating down on her crappy dollar-store umbrella.
She’s walked alone to school the last few months, doing it through rain and a little wind won’t change anything. Jun-hee passively waves at people who pass her, giving a little smile. For the most part, people don’t walk on her side of the street. It’s always been that way, Jun-hee assumes it’s because this side has longer stretches of field and less buildings. It’s why Jun-hee’s okay with walking rather than taking the bus. Her legs may hurt by the time she actually gets to school, but at least she gets to be alone for a bit.
Except for today, for some reason. Because the sound of sneakers hitting wet concrete at top speed begins to follow Jun-hee closely. She already knows before he pulls up next to her.
“ Hey, I didn’t know you walked to school too!” Jun-hee is starting to regret her choice in picking Thanos of all people for her stupid plan.
Jun-hee sighs, preparing herself before she turns to look up at him. She immediately bites her tongue, suppressing a laugh, “Your umbrella is SpongeBob? ”
Thanos looks at her like she’s the odd one, glazing momentarily up at his umbrella and looking back down at Jun-hee, “Duh? Yours is sad and grey.”
“You’re seventeen.”
“And?”
Jun-hee knows she’ll lose this unfortunately, and she refuses to stoop to a lower maturity to win a fight against someone who willingly named himself Thanos. She grips the handle of her umbrella tighter, trying to pick up her pace.
“Why don’t you take the bus?” Thanos asks, and while Jun-hee is no longer looking at him, she can feel his eyes burning into the side of her face. She would see it through her peripherals but the rain makes it so all she sees is a blur of purple and yellow.
“Creeps.” Says Jun-hee, “I doubt people are jerking off to you on the bus, what’s your excuse?”
“I’m legally not allowed to drive.” He answers like he didn’t just spark millions of other following questions in Jun-hee’s brain.
She stops. Like, literally stops, dead in her tracks, and turns to Thanos. She is bewildered, “I’m sorry? ”
Thanos stops with her, shrugging, “Don’t be.”
“No, that’s not what I—” Jun-hee pinches the bridge of her nose, “I’m not literally sorry, nitwit. Why the hell can’t you drive.”
“Too many DUI’s.”
“ Jesus Christ. ” Jun-hee mutters, beginning to walk again. She almost slips from her shoes lack of grip against the wet concrete.
Thanos catches up to her almost immediately, long legs and all that. She feels him staring down at her again, “You’re not very good at pretending to like me.” His voice is just barely audible over the sound of rain beating down on their umbrellas.
Jun-hee ignores him, rolling her eyes.
“Hey, I'm serious.” He grabs her arm, his hand is loose though, giving her the space to break away. They stop again, “If you really wanna piss off Myung-gi, you can’t keep brushing me off.”
“Su-bong,” Jun-hee sighs, brushing his arm off her shoulder, “We kissed in front of him.” Like that fixes everything (because it should).
“We should hang out more, like outside of public appearances.”
“Now why would we do that?”
“To keep up the performance, get along better?” Thanos explains like she’s the biggest idiot in the world, “You basically avoid me unless it’s necessary, no one’s gonna believe we’re together if you don’t interact with me.”
Jun-hee huffs dramatically — literally all she wants right now is to get out of the rain, “ Fine, we can hang out this weekend or something.”
She doesn’t like the grin that morphs on Thanos’s face at this confirmation.
—
To say Thanos’s bathroom is a mess when Jun-hee gets to his house would be an understatement. He’d texted her before she’d even gotten the chance to eat breakfast.
THANOS [10:06 AM]: come
THANOS [10:06 AM]: dying my roots ik ur shit needs touchups 2
JUN-HEE [10:08]: rude?????
And, for reasons unbeknownst to herself, Jun-hee walks herself all the way to the address he drops. The counter looks like a crime scene by the time Jun-hee drops her bag on the floor by the door. Purple dye tubes, half-empty gloves packets, a chipped mixing bowl, and poorly taken care of brushes all lay scattered like they’d been through a small explosion. Thanos sits on the edge of the sink, hunched over the mirror, trying to get a stubborn piece of hair at the back of his head to behave.
“You’re doing it wrong,” Jun-hee announces, leaning against the door-frame and crossing her arms.
He catches her reflection in the mirror and makes a face. “I’m literally just parting my hair.”
“You’re doing it wrong,” She repeats, walking forward and snapping on gloves, taking the brush from him before he can argue. “Sit.”
“I’m already sitting.”
“Sit lower. ”
Thanos sighs, hopping off the counter and plopping down on the closed toilet lid. He spreads his knees lazily, tilting his head back to give her better access.
Jun-hee dips the brush into the dye, grabbing a chunk of hair with her other hands and sweeping the brush over it, “Purple again? ”
“Why not?” He grins, “It’s my signature.”
“It’s your ‘I want teachers to yell at me’ color,” She mutters, brushing in careful strokes. A blob of dye flings off the bristles, landing right on the hem of her white t-shirt.
“ Ah, fuck— ” She looks down at the stain, groaning, “That’s never coming out.”
“Your fault for wearing white.”
“I didn’t think I’d be in a war zone today,” She snaps.
“Welcome to the battlefield, M’lady.”
“That’s the worst one so far.” Jun-hee smacks the side of his head with her palm.
When she’s finally worked the dye into every section, she pulls off her gloves with a snap.
“Your turn.” Thanos grins up at her.
He stands up, putting his hands on Jun-hee's shoulder and spinning them until they’ve switched positions before Jun-hee can argue. He pushes down gently until she’s sitting down on the toilet, mimicking Thanos’s prior position. Thanos tugs on a fresh pair of gloves with that smug precision he has doing anything at all. Jun-hee sighs, turning around so she’s straddling the toilet.
“Stay still. I don’t wanna hear you complain if your hair falls out.”
Thanos is surprisingly gentle when he’s focussed, working the bleach into the ends of her hair. His fingers, even through the thick rubber gloves, are warm against her neck. He murmurs instructions, tilting Jun-hee’s head at different angles. When he’s finally done, Thanos showers first. Jun-hee waits on his bed until he’s done rinsing the purple out of his hair.
When it’s her turn, she uses whatever three-in-one Thanos has, green apple or something. It smells nice enough, Jun-hee figures she can just shower again when she gets back home. She slips back into the same clothes she’d been wearing, staring at the big purple stain that now adorns the edge.
“This shirt’s ruined.” She complains as she walks back into Thanos’s room, holding up the edge for him to see.
Thanos is sprawled across the bed sideways, scrolling on his phone. Without looking up, he said, “Wear one of mine.”
“ What? ”
He finally glances at her, then gets up, rummaging through his closet until he grabs some black t-shirt for a band Jun-hee doesn’t recognize. He tosses it at her, “Problem solved.”
Jun-hee catches it against her chest, looking down at it. She hesitates, “Turn around.”
He raises an eyebrow, smirk threatening to take over his face, “ Seriously? ”
“ Yes, seriously.” She hugs the shirt against herself again, “I’m not changing in front of you.”
“I’m sorry, am I not supposed to be your boyfriend?”
“ Turn around. ” Her voice leaves no room for further argument.
With exaggerated slowness, Thanos turns to face the wall, muttering something about Jun-hee being dramatic
Behind him, Jun-hee peels off her damp shirt. The air is cold against her bare skin, goosebumps chasing up her arms. She tugs his shirt on, staring down at the print on it. It’s big, not dress-length or anything, but definitely not her size.
“Okay, you can look now.”
Thanos turns back around, his eyes flicking over her once before going back to his phone like nothing happened.
—
Jun-hee is kidnapped the moment the bell rings for lunch. Okay, it’s not a kidnapping per say. But Jun-hee would classify her evil ex-boyfriend grabbing her by the arm and suspiciously pulling her away from others eyes as something to be scared of. Myung-gi drags her out of their classroom and towards a row of lockers where no one else is passing.
She yanks her arm out of his hold, “Don’t touch me.”
Myung-gi has the audacity to look offended. He stares at her like he’s really trying to figure something out. It almost makes Jun-hee laugh — he looks like an idiot.
“Don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard.” Jun-hee can’t help herself.
“You’re not actually dating him, are you? Like you can’t be fucking serious."
“I’m sorry?” Jun-hee says, almost offended. She then remembers this is, in fact, to spite him. Though he still should think higher of her (and way fucking less of himself).
“There is genuinely no way in hell you actually like Thanos.” Myung-gi laughs, breathy and not real. The way he does when he’s in disbelief, trying to keep himself calm.
“And what if I do?” She crosses her arms, tilting her head. It’s a challenge.
Myung-gi takes it, “You don’t. ” He says with conviction, “You’re just trying to mess with me or make me jealous or something. But you don’t like him, I know you, Jun-hee.”
“ Do you? ” Her voice rises for only a second before Jun-hee regains her composure, “Just because you and Su-bong have some stupid past means nothing. I actually enjoy hanging out with him and his friends.”
“ Su— ” Myung-gi scoffs, “Don’t fucking call him that like you’re actually close. ”
“ Oh my God, Myung-gi.” This part isn’t fun. Jun-hee should’ve known how Myung-gi was going to act the moment he found out. To be fair, this is what she wanted though. She wanted him to be annoyed, this is just a little too close to pissed than she had prepared for, “We kissed, what more proof can I give you that this is real? ”
Vaguely, in the very depths of Jun-hee’s brain, she fears he’ll ask to see more. It’s highly doubtful Myung-gi would ask for something like that. But he is a fucking weirdo on a high horse so she wouldn’t put it past him. Thankfully, he does not ask to cuck himself. Actually, he does not ask for anything.
His shoulders fall, like he’s giving up. Myung-gi’s lower lip wobbles, his face almost crumbling. Jun-hee doesn’t catch it in time — fuck.
“Jun-hee, please. ” Myung-gi’s voice cracks, he reaches out to grab her wrist, “Leave that fool, you know he’s not for you. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, for whatever I did, whatever I didn’t do.”
Jun-hee scoffs, pulling her hand out of his grasp again, “You’re pathetic, Myung-gi.”
She passes him, their shoulders knocking as she leaves him. He almost falls with the force despite Jun-hee not actually trying.
—
They’re running laps around the field. Coach Hwang keeps chanting shitty dad-jokes like a pep talk that absolutely no one laughs at — aside from Thanos, who thinks they’re the funniest things ever told. Every time they pass Coach Hwang, Thanos reaches out to high-five him. To which Nam-gyu does the same thing despite not liking their coach as much as the former. Jun-hee thinks they’re both stupid but it doesn’t stop her from giggling at a few of the jokes Coach Hwang spouts every day.
Jun-hee is faster than Thanos. Not because she’s actually faster, just because he and Nam-gyu don’t actually try. Days like these, she wishes any one of her friends had taken gym this year. Stupid Hyun-ju being a senior and Dae-ho actually enjoying gym and completing both years during his first two years of high school. Thanos catches up to her every few minutes, mostly to repeatedly ask what lap she’s on like they’re not one the same lap and to bother her with (fake) boyfriend shit he spouts like fleeting moments of childish creativity. Nam-gyu catches up too, of course. It’s mostly him poking fun at Jun-hee’s form or her stupid gym shorts she’s genuinely had since she was twelve.
They’ve reached a point in their relationship, Thanos and Jun-hee, where Nam-gyu now knows the line at which he can push before Thanos barks at him to shut up and quit being a bully. So now he teeters that line as often as he can. Jun-hee isn’t sure why he finds it so fun considering almost every time she has a come-back of her own that not only shuts him up, but also has the other people in their (not technically Jun-hee, these people are not her real friends) group actually laughing. Thanos calls it banter, Jun-hee would call it a coverup for jealousy.
She’s on her third of four laps, hearing the slap of Thanos’s hand against Coach Hwang’s a few feet behind her and then a second subsequent slap as Nam-gyu copies him. Jun-hee begins to slow down, both because she’s starting to get tired and also because she knows Thanos will round her again to bug her. Of course, the two boys catch up to her, one on each side like they’re trapping her, like she’s prey. It would be scary if they were literally any other two men in their school. But Nam-gyu is all bark no bite and Thanos, for all his reputation, has really only fought like two people in his high school career and one of them was Myung-gi — multiple times, to be fair, but still.
“Third lap, almost done, baby.” Thanos says like a cheer. Jun-hee wishes he would give up on the pet names.
“Mhm.” She keeps her pace. Jun-hee’s not athletic in any sense but her dad used to do runs before the sun rose with her when she started getting chubby in middle school. And in elementary Myung-gi always wanted to be that fast kid everyone idolized. He wasn’t, but still. It feels like it had some form of impact on Jun-hee. Attention-seeking ex-boyfriend trauma, or something like that.
Nam-gyu knocks into her with his shoulder, her footing falling out of place and stumbling slightly before she catches herself again. He laughs, Jun-hee just shoves him back. Something about him always brings out the immaturity within her (Jun-hee isn’t sure if it should be classified as good or bad). God, he’s so fucking annoying.
“Finish your own laps before you start to bug me about mine.” Jun-hee says before Nam-gyu even has the chance to start.
He frowns, rolling his eyes, “So self-centered, Jun-hee. ” She hates the way he says her name, “Who said I was gonna comment on your running?”
Jun-hee scoffs, “Can you assholes get out of my bubble?”
“ Wow, ” Nam-gyu feigns offense as Thanos puts a hand to his chest in the same faux manner, “calling your boyfriend an asshole? No wonder you and MG Coin broke up, he was dating a huge bitch. ”
“ Hey. ” Thanos reaches across Jun-hee to smack his friend in the chest, “Don’t call her that.”
Jun-hee’s steps falter, with Thanos’s arm in front of her she begins to stumble. She pushes his arm out of the way and tries to pick up her speed to get away from them. At the same time she moves to pass them, Nam-gyu reaches out to get a hit back on Thanos and hits Jun-hee instead. It’s not hard, a rough hand to her shoulder, but it’s enough to knock her off balance and she loses her footing completely. Her ankle rolls and Jun-hee falls to the ground, gravity taking her quickly.
“ Fuck! ” She manages just before she hits the ground.
She tries to sit up but the weight she puts on her foot sends a sharp, shooting pain right through her ankle and up her calf. She hisses, gasping in pain as she doubles over. Thanos and Nam-gyu both skid to a halt a few feet ahead, staring with wide eyes. Jun-hee pulls her leg up, leaning against her knee. Her eyes sting with tears that begin form in the corners of her eyes.
Coach Hwang jogs over as Thanos crouches down to put a hand on Jun-hee’s back — she’s in too much pain to tell him not to fucking touch her right now.
“Let me see.” Coach Hwang says softly, waiting for Jun-hee to give even half of a nod before he carefully reaches out to inspect her ankle. Her skin is red and angry as he carefully pulls her foot closer, her ankle swollen, “I think it’s sprained.”
“ Fuck. ” She repeats, this time a moan in pain.
“We gotta get you to the nurse,” Says Coach Hwang, with the tone of a teacher who absolutely is not looking forward to the paperwork this is gonna give him, “Can you walk?”
“ No— ” Jun-hee snaps before she can catch herself, “No, I— fuck, sorry— no. It hurts too bad.”
“Well—” Coach Hwang sighs, like he wasn’t trained for injured students? It almost sounds like he’s run out of options before even coming up with one.
“ I’m gonna kill you. ” She mutters into her thigh. Nam-gyu, she means, but she’s too winded with pain to specify.
Thanos moves, ducking down in front of Jun-hee with his back towards her. He spreads his legs, like he’s preparing to lift something — oh no. He reaches back with his hands, grazing Jun-hee’s thighs.
“Su-bong, what are you—” Jun-hee tenses as his hands glide over her thigh, “Hey, no. ”
“Hey, yes. ” He says, beginning to pull Jun-hee towards him. He glances at her over his shoulder, “C’mon. I’m not letting Coach Hwang drag your ass off the track in front of everyone.”
“You’re not carrying me.”
“You weigh, like, a sandwich and a half. Get on.”
Jun-hee groans, almost embarrassed enough to crawl off the track instead, but the throb in her ankle makes that idea just as unbearable, “I swear to God, if you drop me—”
Thanos ignores her, “On three. One— two—”
“ Wait, I’m not—”
“Three!”
He hoists her up before she can finish her protest, her arms instinctively tightening around his shoulders as she lets out a surprised noise that sounds a little too much like a yelp for her pride. Her legs are awkward at first, dangling off his sides, but Thanos adjusts her, one hand under her thigh, the other under her knee, until she’s snug against his back.
“See? Easy-peasy. ” He grins.
She grumbles into the back of his neck, “I’m going to die of embarrassment.”
“You already sprained your ankle. Might as well hit the combo and get public humiliation too.”
She considers smacking him on the side of his head but decides against it. He’s warm, steady. And weirdly, despite the attention they’re drawing, it feels safe (later, she will blame this feeling on the delirium of her swollen ankle).
Thanos starts walking off the track toward the nurse’s office, Jun-hee’s weight balanced against him with surprising ease. She presses her face into Thanos’s shoulder, teeth clenched too hard. Her face is hot, flushed with embarrassment more than pain. Nam-gyu follows a few steps behind, quieter than usual. His hands twitch at his sides like he wants to help but knows he shouldn’t. Jun-hee doesn’t look at him.
Coach Hwang jogs ahead to open the gate by the track, and Thanos carries her like she weighs nothing. She hates how many people are watching. Hates it more that the warmth of Thanos’s arms around her feel comforting when it absolutely shouldn’t.
“ I’m sorry! ” Nam-gyu blurts as they cross the grass toward the gym. His voice cracks, and Jun-hee hates that too, “I was aiming for Thanos— shit, obviously—I didn’t think—”
“ Obviously, ” Jun-hee spits, still not looking at him, “Just shut up for once.”
He does.
Jun-hee doesn’t miss the way Thanos adjusts her gently every few seconds. She wants to say something, wants to shove him or insult him or tell him Myung-gi isn’t here, he didn’t have to do this — but she doesn’t. Just buries her face deeper into the crook of his neck and whispers, low and begrudging:
“ Thanks. ”
He doesn’t answer, but his grip gets just a little tighter.
Behind them, Nam-gyu trails like a kicked dog. And Jun-hee, in spite of everything, hopes the guilt eats him alive.
—
Jun-hee’s ankle is fine, not that her parents cared after receiving a call from the school. Really, she’s lucky it was just a sprain and not a break because Jun-hee highly doubts her parents would’ve taken the time (and money) out of their day to drive her to the hospital. Sometimes Jun-hee wonders why they even bothered to keep her if they weren’t planning on caring. It’d be better if they fought, she thinks. If they’d show some God damn emotion every once and a while, scream at her for a dropping grade or staying out late. Get mad for the self-done piercing and hair-cut. Any attention at all, Jun-hee used to beg for when she laid in bed as a kid. It’s like they’re zombies around her.
She still remembers the first (and only) time she’d brought Myung-gi home to her parents — like they would finally care. Like he was some prize, something to show her parents she could do something. If they wouldn’t come see her accomplishments, she’d bring her accomplishments to them. They’d actually sat as a family that night, eating dinner around the table, Myung-gi’s hands clasped politely in his lap as Jun-hee’s father told stories of trips she’d never gotten to hear. Her mother had praised Myung-gi for his intelligence. And at the time, it felt like a win. They were finally acknowledging something in her life. But later that night — and even now, sometimes when she stares at the ceiling in her bedroom — it makes Jun-hee angry. Because why, how could they love a boy they’d known for a few hours more than they’d loved Jun-hee her whole life.
‘I like this one,’ her mother had said, ‘you should keep him’. Jun-hee scoffs when she thinks about it.
Her phone buzzes beside her, the mattress shaking faintly beneath her. Jun-hee’s hands are sweaty as she pulls them apart from how hard she’d been pressing them together without realizing. She reaches over, the screen lighting up as she holds it above her face to read the message.
THANOS [7:42 PM]: can i come over
Jun-hee sits up, typing her response.
JUN-HEE [7:43 PM]: parents home
JUN-HEE [7:43 PM]: sorry
Thanos’s reply is quick, Jun-hee knows now he’s being serious.
THANOS [7:43 PM]: can we go somwhere then
THANOS [7:43 PM]: pls
This is how she ends up on the rooftop of some random apartment complex two streets down from Thanos’s. His knees are pulled to his chest and despite how many times he’s insisted he’s fine, Jun-hee sees the way his hand trembles every time he moves to take a hit from his vape. The smoke blows out into the sunset as if it’s one with the other clouds. Jun-hee sits with her legs criss-crossed.
His dad is a drunk, Jun-hee knows that much — and it wasn’t learned through Thanos. She gets it though, not wanting to share details or your tortured homelife.
They don’t really speak. Jun-hee kinda likes it this way. Though, she’s never heard Thanos this quiet. When she turns to watch him, the sunset casts orange and pink over his face. The colors mix well with his dyed hair. Jun-hee thinks he might even be beautiful in this light.
When Thanos catches her staring, she feels the need to fill the silence finally.
“You don’t ever have to meet my parents either, if it helps.” She says.
Thanos just barely smiles.
—
Another Friday, another random person’s party Jun-hee is brought to by Thanos. It’s not a date per-say, despite what Thanos had said the first time. She refuses to call drinking cheap alcohol and watching drunk kids strip to their boxers to jump in pools a date. That’s like, somehow worse than Myung-gi taking her on one singular date throughout the three years they were together. So no, it’s not a date, but she finds people embarrassing themselves a little funny and she likes hanging out with Thanos’s friends a little more than she’d like to admit.
Truth or Dare ends up being the main game played tonight, a small collection of party-goers forming a circle on the floor in the living room. Jun-hee watches from the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a drink in her hand. She takes slow sips, watching Thanos crush the butt of a cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee-table they’d moved and join the group, squishing himself between Myung-gi and some girl Jun-hee maybe recognizes.
The truths are mediocre at best and the dares are obnoxious. Se-mi leaves after the third ‘do you have a crush on anyone?’ with an apologetic smile and a promise to text Jun-hee in the morning. By the time the clock hits twelve, Jun-hee is ready to leave herself. Her buzz isn’t fun anymore and her eyes are beginning to feel heavy. But just as she pulls away from the counter:
“Jun-hee, why aren’t you playing with us?”
Fucking Thanos.
She sighs, turning to the group, “I’m tired. And your gameplay is lame.”
“Come play with us, just a few rounds.” Thanos frowns, like a begging puppy. It’s not cute.
And of course, because Thanos has opened his mouth, here comes his parrot, “ Yeah Jun-hee, come play with us!”
Too tired to fight it, Jun-hee pinches the bridge of her nose and gives in. She squeezes between Nam-gyu and someone else, across from her boyfriend and her ex- boyfriend. Myung-gi smiles at her, she glares back.
“Truth or Dare?” Someone asks her.
Jun-hee really isn’t in the mood for having to do some stupid shit like stripping or drinking something gross so she plays it safe, “Truth.”
“What’s your body count?” Someone else asks immediately and Jun-hee remembers why she hates Truth or Dare.
The group erupts in immature laughter. Jun-hee keeps a straight face, she’s not even embarrassed. These people are idiots and she knows it. Nam-gyu laughs like he’s never been allowed to laugh before. He’s high, Jun-hee remembers. So to everyone else this shit is funny, but to him, that guy just said the funniest thing anyone's ever come up with.
She turns to him, “I’m sorry, were you not literally dared to act like a dog three rounds ago?”
That shuts Nam-gyu up real fast.
Jun-hee faces forward again, her legs shifting beneath her from criss-cross to sitting on her knees. If they wanna play this game, then she’ll play it. She’s gentle but she’s not a pussy.
“Jun-hee, you don’t have to—”
“Shut up, Myung-gi.” The circle breaks out in ooo’s like Jun-hee just gave the roast of the century.
Myung-gi looks down at his lap. Pathetic, Jun-hee thinks.
“ One, ” She says honestly, “The answer is one.”
The game continues, questions and dares wrapping around the circle accompanied by stupid intoxicated giggles. It reaches Myung-gi — he chooses dare despite pussying out every round prior to this and picking truth. Jun-hee can’t help but feel it's ‘cause she’s here now. Thanos seems to have the same idea, because he leans in too close to Myung-gi’s face.
“ Dare, huh? Trying to seem cool now, MG Coin?” He goads, voice low, “Trying to impress someone?”
“Fuck off, Thanos.” Myung-gi says, tone warning like a threat. Jun-hee rolls her eyes — he’s always so quick to fall for bait.
Thanos reaches out, flicking Myung-gi’s forehead, “What? You’ve played truth this whole game like a pussy. I can only assume you’re picking dare just cause your ex is here.”
Myung-gi smacks Thanos’s hand away, growling, “I told you to stop fucking doing that. I’m gonna beat your ass the next time your disgusting hands come anywhere near me, you got that?”
Thanos leans back on one hand, that damn smirk Jun-hee’s gotten used to plastered on his expression, “Do it.” He nods at Myung-gi, like a test. That dumbass teasing tone he wears in every conversation with the guy. Jun-hee would giggle if she weren’t so tired.
“Matter of fact, I dare you.” The room goes silent, people gasping like Thanos just dared him to kill someone. It’s immature, Jun-hee thinks.
And then in the blink of an eye, Myung-gi tosses himself at Thanos, knocking him onto his back. He’s yelling, not words, just that stupid angry yell he does that makes him sound like a jackass. The rest of the group gets riled up too, breaking the circle to cheer for either man (though it’s mostly for Thanos). Myung-gi gets at least two punches in, one to Thanos’s nose, before he’s tossed onto his own back as Thanos rolls them over. He reels back, hitting Myung-gi in the jaw over and over and over until he’s groaning, turning to spit blood onto the carpet. Thanos looks up from Myung-gi to meet Jun-hee’s eyes, blood in his teeth as he smirks again.
Jun-hee rolls her eyes — she’s not gonna encourage this crude behaviour. When she looks back, Thanos’s smile is gone. He wipes the blood from his upper lip with the back of his hand, scooting back until he’s no longer straddling Myung-gi’s legs. Myung-gi groans, sitting up slowly. Two other guys from the crowd move to help him but he shoos them off him, pulling his shoulders away (Jun-hee vaguely wonders if he finally understands how she felt all the times he tried to grab her shoulder and she did the same to him). He looks up at Thanos, and though Jun-hee can’t see his face, she imagines she can picture it pretty well.
Thanos licks his bloodied lip, “You completed your dare, MG Coin! Maybe you’re not much of a pussy after all.”
To her left, Jun-hee hears Nam-gyu stifle a laugh. She decides she’s done with these people now. She pushes herself up from the floor, dusting her ass off and turning away from the group without a word. If it really matters, Jun-hee figures Thanos will chase after her — or at least text her.
Just as she reaches the front door with her jacket in hand, someone grabs her arm. She sighs, turning. She knows that damn calloused palm. Faded purple hair and blasted pupils greet her.
“Where are you going?” He asks, almost pouting. He looks like Nam-gyu when he pulls that shit, it’s like bad poetry.
“Home.” She answers easily, voice steady. Jun-hee’s not mad, and she knows Thanos can tell. She’s not exactly annoyed either, she’s just tired of watching them fight like children.
He lets go of Jun-hee before she even pulls away, “Because of that loser? Don’t let him ruin a good party, baby! ”
Jun-hee sticks a finger in Thanos’s chest, “ You provoked that fight, dumbass. And I told you I was tired way before that.”
Thanos grabs her hand again, pressing it flat to his chest instead, “I deeply apologize for my actions.”
His pout deepens; Jun-hee thinks it’d be funnier if she drank a little more earlier. More blood drips slowly from his nose. Jun-hee sighs again, grabbing one of Thanos’s hands properly. She begins to pull him down the hall.
“C’mon, let me clean you up.”
The bathroom door traps the room in silence, quieting the shitty music blaring outside. Jun-hee lets go of Thanos’s hand to flip the light switch. She hears Thanos groan as the light burns his eyes. She turns, opening the medicine cabinet and rummaging around. While she’s not exactly sure who’s house they’re at, she knows every house has some form of pain killer.
“Grab some tissue for your nose.” She says with her back still to Thanos.
She turns, crowding him back against the sink. Jun-hee takes the tissues from his hand, twisting one of them to press to his face, wiping the blood off Thanos’s face. She twists another, pushing it into his nostril to stop the blood flow.
“Does it hurt?” She asks quietly, “Your nose.”
Thanos shrugs, “A little.”
Jun-hee hums, “It doesn’t look broken. I think you’ll be fine.”
She pulls away to toss the blood-soaked tissue away and replace the one in his nose. When she looks back, Thanos has his head tilted back — like an idiot, Jun-hee thinks.
She grabs his jaw, pulling him to look down, “Don’t tilt your head back, that’s how you choke on your own blood.”
“ But growing up— ”
“ Yes, I know what school nurses say but it’s not correct information.” Jun-hee grumbles.
Thanos looks down at her with what Jun-hee can only describe as awe. She hates it, a little. Just the way his pupils are blown from drugs and not just looking at her. On the other hand, she kinda likes it too — likes that he’s admiring her for something real. For her brain, for the head on her shoulders rather than ignoring her advice and acting like he’d already known it despite clearly not.
“Are you still going home after this?” Thanos asks, quieter than he’s spoken all night.
Jun-hee presses her lips together, nodding her head, “Yeah, and you should too.”
Against her better judgement, she reaches up again. It’s not to remove the tissue this time, instead placing her palm against Thanos’s cheek — holding him. He presses into ever so slightly.
—
Se-mi presses her lips together and shakes her head like a warning as a guy tries to walk into the men's bathroom. Her arms are crossed as she leans back against the wall on the left side, Jun-hee on the right — like they’re body guards.
The guy sighs, “Seriously? Again? ”
“Sorry man.” Jun-hee shrugs, an apologetic smile.
He groans and turns around, going to use the bathroom on the floor below them, Jun-hee assumes. She understands why her and Se-mi have to stand here but that doesn’t make it feel any less stupid. If the guys really cared about getting caught, they could just wait to chief it up. Thanos hits his vape in class with zero hesitation, Jun-hee doubts getting caught even matters to him anymore. Nam-gyu cares a bit more, he doesn’t ever explicitly talk about his parents but Jun-hee’s gathered enough about his mom being, like, insane.
“Yo, remember when vapes used to, like, just fucking explode? ” Se-mi laughs, looking across the gap at Jun-hee, “Every day I heard a new story about someone's vape blowing up in their hand.”
Jun-hee laughs, shoulders less tense, “Yeah.”
When Jun-hee was a kid, she used to be so diligent about the people she hung out with. She was constantly worried about falling into the wrong crowd, disappointing her parents and getting in trouble. In the third grade, the boy who sat behind Jun-hee used to pull her hair every day. And when she had finally worked up the courage to tell the teacher, she’d received a ‘he probably just had a crush on you’ and was told to ignore him. Jun-hee should’ve known adults weren’t helpful after that. But she still tried to be so good. Even when her parents never attended her parent-teacher conferences or hung her A’s on the fridge. She gave up on them in the eighth grade, when she’d joined the debate team and they didn’t come to her first debate.
She realized no matter what she did, Jun-hee’s parents weren’t going to care. If she was good, bad, dying in an alley. Nothing mattered. She could talk to whoever she wanted and as long as it never really harmed them, her parents couldn’t care less. Jun-hee guesses that’s why she isn’t anxious, standing outside the bathroom to keep her friends from getting caught hotboxing the big stall together.
“Don’t you vape?” Jun-hee says, “Why don’t you ever join them? I can keep watch by myself.”
“Because I’m not a loser addict like they are.” Se-mi uncrosses her arms, pointing her thumb through the open doorway, “Plus, Gyeong-su doesn’t vape, he’s only in there because Thanos is. And Min-su doesn’t like being left out.”
“ Oh. ” Jun-hee says eloquently.
“ You could be in there with them, your boyfriend and his goons.” Se-mi grins, like she’s laughing at her own insult, “If it were just them I’d ditch them, but I’d keep my eye out for you.”
“Are you flirting with me right now?” Jun-hee tries to fight the smirk that wants to plaster itself across her face. She crosses her arms, mirroring Se-mi’s previous position and cocking her head to the side like a challenge.
“Depends,” The corner of Se-mi’s mouth twitches, “do you like it?”
Inside the bathroom, a loud crash sounds (someone’s vape hitting the floor, Jun-hee processes) and then followed by: “Hey, what the fuck!?” and “Dude, be careful!” overlapping. Someone is coughing, there's more yelling. Jun-hee is too distracted to remember Se-mi’s question.
—
They’re in Jun-hee’s room, sitting on her bed. Thanos is closer to the foot, leaning back on one hand. Jun-hee’s sitting with her back against the head-board. It’s lazy and warm and dim — her little desk lamp is the only thing on, and it paints everything in that tired yellow color that makes the corners of the room look softer than they are. Her parents aren’t home, again. Haven’t been all week, Jun-hee got a single text on Monday from her dad saying they were going on a trip. No details as to where or when they’d be back. Deep down, Jun-hee toys with the idea of them never returning (she’s not sure if she likes it or not).
Thanos’s shitty SoundCloud raps are playing through his distorted phone speaker, Jun-hee began to drown them out hours ago. He keeps hitting his vape every few minutes, it’s awful. Like, truly awful. It smells like someone’s idea of candy but if they’d never actually eaten any. It’s tropical, maybe? Jun-hee thinks she smells pineapple and maybe peach, but really she just keeps holding her breath every time he exhales because it’s genuinely that bad.
He exhales again, lazy and thoughtless, and the puff of hot, sticky vapor drifts up too fast and just smacks her in the face. Not directly, not on purpose, but enough that she tastes it before she smells it. Her whole face twists as she recoils.
“ Dude, ” She coughs, grimacing, “don’t blow that shit in my face.”
Thanos glances over, blinking like he’s coming back into his body, “Didn’t mean to.”
“I know. Still gross.” Jun-hee waves her hand, trying to rid her bubble of the rest of the smoke.
He doesn’t say anything, just puts the vape down on her nightstand. Like he forgot it was in his hand. Like he’s over it. And Jun-hee doesn’t really clock it at first — she’s too busy kicking him in the thigh when he starts rapping along with the version of himself singing on his phone. He plays it off, flopping sideways with a wheeze like she’s injured him.
And then he doesn’t hit it again.
Not once.
Like, not even in the next five minutes. Not when they grab Jun-hee’s laptop to put on a YouTube video and he laughs so hard he almost falls off the bed. Not when she gets up to grab snacks from the kitchen and comes back to find him sprawled all the way across the bed like he owns it. He picks it back up at some point when she isn’t looking, fidgeting and turning it in his hands. But he doesn’t take another hit.
Jun-hee notices, of course she does, but she doesn’t say anything. That’d make it real.
So instead she keeps side-eyeing him when he thinks she’s not looking, waiting for the tell-tale click or hiss. Waiting for the smell to come back. It never does.
“The fuck kind of flavor is that anyway?”
Thanos looks down at it in his hands like he has to check, flipping it over in his palm, “It’s Mango Grape Banana Berry Blast.” He states with this whimsy, like what he just read isn’t the worst combination of words ever spoken.
“It’s a war crime. ”
He laughs, “It’s not that bad.”
—
It starts with rain again. Not enough to cancel school, but just enough to soak through their jackets on the walk home. Because Thanos follows her home almost every day, days where she knows her parents won’t be home, at least.
Jun-hee’s room is warm and smells like laundry and lemon shampoo, it’s what Thanos always says anyway. There’s a quiet hum from the space heater in the corner. Thano sits cross-legged on her floor, still damp, flipping through her physics notes and trying not to drip on them. Jun-hee peels off her hoodie (which she actually only realizes as she’s removing it that it’s Thanos’s — she does not wish to dwell on how it ended up on her body) and tosses it toward the laundry basket. It misses. She doesn’t care enough to pick it up.
Jun-hee lies on her stomach on the bed, her socked feet kicking absently in the air. She starts a conversation, nothing real or deep. Something to fill the silence, keep Thanos from complaining about being bored despite having every chance to leave if he really wanted to. Jun-hee’s beginning to get used to hanging out with him. It feels like less of a negotiation now, though she’d never admit that to him.
Thanos props an elbow on the mattress, then lets his head rest near hers, close enough to feel the shared heat between them. Jun-hee feels his breath fan her face every time he speaks. He’s quiet, for once. Well, he’s always quiet in her room, like he’s trying to be polite. Respect the elders that they both know aren’t actually home.
The sky darkens, the rain doesn’t stop, probably won’t for a while. Jun-hee doesn’t process her own breathing slowly, or the way her eyes have begun to feel heavy, taking longer blinks as she listens to Thanos ramble.
She pats the bed beside her, whispering, “Why are you on the floor? Get up here, weirdo.”
So Thanos maneuvers up, body syrupy slow. Jun-hee feels the mattress dip behind her. He doesn’t touch, doesn’t wrap an arm around her waist or press his forehead to her shoulder. But Jun-hee can still feel him behind her, laying in silence
There’s something terrifying and sacred about the way they fall asleep like that—fully clothed, shoes kicked off in different directions, not meaning to. Not speaking. Just letting their bodies give in, like two people who trust the moment more than they trust each other, but might be getting closer. Later, when Jun-hee wakes up to an empty bed and a text from Thanos about his mom wanting him home, Jun-hee will act as though the whole thing never happened. That she dreamt it.
But right now, the world outside is gray and wet and loud. And inside her room, it's just the two of them, an inch of distance between her back and his front, rain tapping against the window.
—
Listen, Jun-hee would not like to take credit for Thanos no longer hitting his vape at any given moment. It’s not an achievement she should hold with glory, okay? But when everyone around them at the lunch table is suddenly giving this title to her — a 3v1, mind you — it’s a little difficult to turn it down.
Because Thanos pulled up to lunch, one hand on the small of Jun-hee’s back as he guided her to sit down, and first off: had not hit his vape the moment his hands were free. But secondly, he’d said Nam-gyu’s name correctly. Which, if Jun-hee were less integrated into this group, she would find it odd given the greasy-haired weirdo is Thanos’s supposed ‘best friend’. But she is, unfortunately, a member of this group whether she likes it or not (and she does but you didn’t hear that from her).
All this to say, Jun-hee does not care why or why not Thanos doesn’t know his own friend's name. She consistently finds it hard to tell when he is joking and when he is being serious. And so does Nam-gyu, and just about everyone else in the group other than Se-mi. So maybe this is some long-haul joke he had been carrying just for the fun of it, because seeing Nam-gyu fall for the world's easiest rage-bait is a little funny, Jun-hee can admit. But the moment Thanos had said his name correctly moments ago, the table erupted like some sort of spell had been broken.
“It’s Nam—” Nam-gyu starts on habit, ready to correct Thanos before realizing he, for once, does not need to. His eyes widen, mouth left open — Jun-hee almost asks if he’s trying to catch flies, almost.
“No fucking way.” Min-su laughs.
Se-mi smirks, “Holy shit, are you sober? ”
Jun-hee does not know how those two things correlate, “What?”
Thanos shrugs, moving the food on his tray around with the plastic spork he was given.
Se-mi turns back to Jun-hee, “Oh my God, someone actually got him to stop.”
“Thanos can only say Nam-gyu’s name right when he’s sober.” Gyeong-su supplies, the only helpful person in this group when Jun-hee really thinks about it.
“Of course his little girlfriend is the reason he quits.” Se-mi crosses her arms, leaning back, “I thought he’d be some incompetent stoner forever.”
“Whoa whoa,” Jun-hee puts her hands up, “I didn’t tell him to quit smoking weed. I didn’t tell him to quit anything. And how the hell does not being sober relate to him saying Nam-gyu’s name wrong.”
Min-su shrugs, “He said it correct once, freshman year, before he started smoking. And then after that he never said it right again.”
“Fuckin’ ‘Nam-su’. ” Nam-gyu mutters to himself, arms crossed like a petulant toddler.
“Weed does not remove someone’s ability to pronounce a name.” Jun-hee feels the need to clarify, like she’s sitting at a lunch table full of idiots, “He’s just fucking with you guys.”
—
Jun-hee would never admit it, but she’s starting to like these parties. Even if most of their group has stopped staying as long — or even showing up to begin with — they’re still fun. She’s not even sure how Thanos finds some of these things. He’s popular but not that popular. Jun-hee’s pretty sure this is someone’s birthday? But she’s started loosening up, making friends with people who absolutely won’t remember her come the next morning. This is the girl she’d wanted to be when she realized her parents weren’t going to care who she became.
She’s alone on the couch, nursing a can of spiked lemonade (it’s bad but it’s also the only drink being served). Thanos disappeared like an hour in, trying to scam underclassment with burnt vapes again. Jun-hee’s phone buzzes in her pocket. She slides it out, taking a sip of her drink as she opens her messages.
THANOS [9:42 PM]: wya ???
JUN-HEE [9:42 PM]: couch
JUN-HEE [9:42 PM]: ur the one who walked off??
THANOS [9:43 PM]: i’ll cum find u
THANOS [9:43 PM]: actually nvm
THANOS [9:43 PM]: kitchen first i need water
Jun-hee stifles a laugh, typing her response.
JUN-HEE [9:43 PM]: ok king hydrate
She tucks her phone back into her pocket, taking another sip from her can and winces — God, it’s so bad. The girl who’d asked Jun-hee to watch her sweater comes back, taking it from Jun-hee’s lap with a slurred ‘thank you’ and a giddy little smile. Jun-hee just nods back at her, smiling too now.
This party’s loud as hell. They usually are, obviously, but Jun-hee thinks there must be more people here this time or something. Because any time someone speaks to her, they have to get in each other's faces. But she’s chilling. The party is chill, Jun-hee is chill. She’s chilled.
Until a crash from the kitchen startles her. And then silence, like almost full-house silence. Then yelling picks up quickly, not words Jun-hee can actually catch in full sentences, but enough for her to realize it’s two guys fighting. Of course, drunk teenagers in small spaces are gonna fight, she’s used to it by now with how many parties Thanos has dragged her to.
“ Get the fuck away from me! ” Jun-hee hears as she takes another sip from her drink (she really needs to put it down, it’s so not good at all).
More slamming from the kitchen hits Jun-hee’s ears. She thinks it’s all stupid, fighting is such an immature way of expressing yourself. She’s starting to get tired of how often these parties have people beating each other up. Jun-hee still remembers how often she had to cradle Myung-gi’s bruised and beaten face, icing the third black eye he’d gotten that semester. Every other week, Jun-hee swears he was beginning to get off on it or something. Always murmuring under his breath how ‘that damn bastard Thanos’ had started it.
Fuck, Jun-hee realizes too slowly — Thanos is in the kitchen. She sighs, setting down her drink (finally) on the coffee table and moving towards the commotion with the patience of someone entirely too used to this. She pushes through the crowd easily until she’s standing where the hallway and kitchen meet at the floor.
And sure enough, Thanos on one side, breathing heavily, lip split. Myung-gi stands across from him, back against the fridge like he had just been shoved. He wipes blood off his upper lip from what Jun-hee assumes is a broken nose from afar. Neither of them see her, or really the whole crowd in general.
“Fuck you, man.” Thanos spits.
Myung-gi laughs, that insane laugh he makes when he’s mad — God, does Jun-hee hate him, “Fuck me? Fuck you, ruining my reputation,—”
“You did that yourself by being a douchebag to anyone who interacts with you.”
“—stealing my girl.” He finishes, and Jun-hee is truly gone at the audacity of the statement. There is no fucking way they are fighting over her right now at someone’s birthday party. This may be the most cliche thing Jun-hee has ever experienced, she thinks.
“She’s not your girl anymore, MG Coin.” Thanos smirks, “She dumped you, she moved on, now it’s your turn.”
“What did you do to her, huh?” Jun-hee watches as her ex pushes himself away from the fridge, “Did you bribe her? Using her to make yourself look better?”
“Jesus, dude, I’m not insane like you are.”
“I mean—” He’s fully lost it now, Jun-hee can tell by the way he stumbles as he walks and the faux smile on his face, the way every word comes out like a chuckle, “There’s no way she actually likes you. Fucking look at you.”
Thanos flinches, not like he’s afraid, but like the words hit somewhere he hadn’t been expecting. His posture shifts — less cocky now, more guarded. His arms tense like he’s holding something back, something more mental. And Jun-hee doesn’t miss that.
She doesn’t miss how Thanos’ smirk fades into something smaller. Something tired.
“She does like me,” he says, voice low, eyes flashing in a way that makes Jun-hee freeze up, “you just never knew how to treat her like a person.”
Myung-gi barks out another one of those goddamn laughter-choked scoffs. “You're not some fucking knight in shining armor, man.”
“I never said I was.” Thanos takes a step closer to him, fist curled like he’s ready to hit him again.
But Myung-gi is faster. And all in one movement, in a singular blink, everyone watches frozen in place as Myung-gi grabs a fork off the counter to his left and jabs it into Thanos’s side. Everyone gasps, Thanos doubles over immediately, hand grabbing his side as Myung-gi pulls out and stumbles back like he hadn’t even meant to do what he just did. Like he hadn’t meant to fucking stab the man in front of him.
“Are you guys fucking kidding me? ” Jun-hee can’t stop herself.
Both men turn to her immediately, Myung-gi’s face filling with regret almost immediately. Thanos is breathing in short, shallow bursts now, his knees bending like they might give out at any second. Myung-gi still has the fork in his hand, his knuckles speckled with blood. He looks down at it, chest heaving, like his brain is finally catching up to what he just did.
He looks back up again, “ Jun-hee— ”
She ignores him, pushing the rest of the way into the kitchen and passing Myung-gi to get to Thanos. Jun-hee presses a hand to his wound, over his own. It’s not that deep, just enough to bleed and definitely hurt like a bitch. Her other hand reaches up to cup his jaw. He leans into it.
Behind them, Myung-gi drops the fork. It clatters pathetically onto the tile. It’s deafening in the silent house, everyone watching with bated breath like the three of them are stars in the newest Netflix drama.
Thanos tries to laugh but winces. “I’m okay, I’m— good. It’s shallow. He missed all the important organs.”
“He shouldn’t be anywhere near your organs.” Jun-hee’s so fucking tired, “I can’t believe you got shanked at a birthday party.”
“I don’t like how calm you are right now.”
“I’m used to your bullshit.” She mutters, putting an arm around Thanos’s waist and trying to help him out of the kitchen. They both know she’s not actually strong enough to really carry him, but he pretends to lean some weight on her anyway.
They get a taxi back to Jun-hee’s.
—
Jun-hee’s glad her parents aren’t home as she tries to slam the door shut behind her. Thanos catches it, closing it gently behind him. He was quiet the whole way home, Jun-hee too, silently fuming next to him in the back of their taxi. Not that he hadn’t tried to talk to her, gently reaching for her hand and mumbling her name before Jun-hee had pulled away, admittedly more violently than necessary.
She kicks off her shoes without looking at him, the back of her neck hot, the residue of alcohol and party-smoke still clinging to her hair. She wants to peel herself out of this night, scrub it off, bury it, but instead she just leans back against the arm of the couch and crosses her arms.
Thanos lingers by the door, watching her carefully like she’s breakable glass. His voice comes soft, tentative, “ Jun-hee— ”
“I’m so tired, Su-bong.” She interrupts, a quiet admission.
His brows pull together, and he tilts his head — that infuriating blankness like he really doesn’t understand, “Then go to bed.”
“ No, ” Her eyes snap up to his, sharp, “I’m tired of you and Myung-gi.”
Silence fills the hall. He blinks, taken aback. Jun-hee presses on before he can offer one of his usual deflections.
“You think I wanted that? You and him—” Her voice breaks into something bitter, her throat tightening. “Every single party, you’re at each other’s throats. And now it’s not even over stupid shit anymore, it’s me. Like I’m a trophy to wave around. Like I’m the reason he’s mad. Like I don’t get a say in any of it.” She swallows hard, arms hugging herself tighter. “That’s always how he saw me. Just something to fight over. Not someone. Just— an object. ”
Thanos shifts forward, slow but deliberate, his shadow stretching over her. His jaw works like he’s chewing on the words he can’t say. When he finally speaks, his voice is lower than before, steadier, like he’s dropped every un-serious mask he usually wears.
“I don’t see you like that.”
Jun-hee lets out a humorless laugh, brittle and sharp. She turns her head, refusing to let his gaze pin her in place, “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
Her breath catches before she can help it. There’s no grin tugging at his mouth, no teasing in his eyes. Just him, raw, his voice steady and certain in a way that unsettles her more than all the fighting did.
Something flickers in her chest— anger, confusion, the echo of something softer she doesn’t want to name. She exhales through her nose, suddenly too aware of the narrow space between them, of the way his hand still rests against the door like he hasn’t decided if he’s leaving or staying.
“You shouldn’t say things like that.” She mutters, her voice quieter now, almost swallowed by the silence of the house.
“Why not?” His reply is immediate, almost challenging, though there’s no edge to it. Just quiet insistence. “Because you think I don’t mean it? Or because you’re afraid I do? ”
Jun-hee looks at him then, finally, her heart beating too fast, her annoyance dissolving into something far more complicated. She opens her mouth, shuts it again, shaking her head because she doesn’t have an answer that won’t betray her. She hates the way he knows her now.
The hallway feels small, heavy with everything unspoken, and Jun-hee realizes with a dull pang that she’s not just tired — she’s terrified.
—
Jun-hee starts to question Thanos’s plans for their outing after she trips over the third root in ten minutes. It’s wet and eerily quiet and when she looks up, Jun-hee can barely see the sky. She’d woken up to Thanos already in her home ( no, she is not sure how he got in and no, she doesn’t want to know), pulling her out of bed and saying they were taking a trip. Walking through a forest isn’t exactly what Jun-hee had thought their plans were going.
“Where the hell are we going?” She finally gives in, asking as she avoids a branch almost smacking her in the face.
Thanos doesn’t slow down. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jorts, his shoulders hunched slightly, but his voice carries easily through the trees, “I used to come here a lot. Alone usually.”
Which is not an answer to her question.
Jun-hee blinks, “ What—? ”
He shrugs, stepping over another root like he’s done this path a hundred times ( which he probably has ), “It’s quiet. Nobody bothers you out here.”
She gives him a look, though he doesn’t see it. He’s already a few steps ahead. “So you dragged me into the middle of nowhere… for peace and quiet? ”
“Not exactly.”
When the forest finally thins, the trees open into a clearing, and a lake stretches out in front of them. It’s not huge, but the surface catches the morning light in scattered glints, rippling against the breeze. Jun-hee can hear the water rushing at some point further away. The lake definitely isn’t clear, probably not even meant to be swam in really. She’d probably classify it as more of a bog the longer she looks at it.
“You brought me here to look at water?”
“No,” Thanos says, already tugging off his shirt, “I brought you here to swim.”
Her eyes widen as he strips down without hesitation — shirt, shoes, pants — and before she can even process it, he’s in the water, splashing down in nothing but his minion boxers.
“You could’ve told me to bring my swimsuit!” She shouts after him.
He surfaces, slick hair pushed back, grinning wide, “Didn’t wanna ruin the surprise.”
Jun-hee rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch like she’s holding back a smile. She pulls her own shirt over her head without hesitation, kicking off her jeans. She ties her hair up so it won’t get wet and wades in, shivering at first before the water settles around her. It’s cold around her stomach and ribs and she’s definitely shivering but she’s in too deep to back out now.
Thanos reaches her almost immediately, hands finding her waist. Jun-hee lets him, hands finding his forearms to steady herself. The bottom is slippery and Jun-hee can feel something slimy between her toes. She can’t remember the last time she went swimming.
It’s only when her fingers begin to absent-mindedly trace his forearm that she feels it — the raised lines, faint but unmistakable. She pauses, thumb brushing over one of the ridges again. Jun-hee glances down, her eyes meet with exactly what she’d expected. They’re old, clearly. Nothing that should really draw concern anymore. But looking at them makes Jun-hee feel a little dizzy.
“ Shit, ” She says, accidentally.
Thanos realizes what she’s looking at, following her eye-line to his scars, “Oh, they’re old, don’t worry—”
“No no, I know.” Jun-hee fills quickly, looking back up at him, “Sorry, I didn’t actually mean to say that outloud.”
He swallows, nods. Jun-hee reaches up to smooth the furrow between his brows with her. She doesn’t realize what she rests again and sees the stupid little smile on his face.
—
He follows her home, of course. At this point, Jun-hee accepts it, prepares herself every day for her stupid shadow to follow her home. And on days her parents are home, he comes in, stays for a while. Typically, the hang-outs consist of an accidental nap followed by eating every snack in her kitchen. Jun-hee showers first, just a quick rinse off, putting her hair up to keep it from getting too wet. She waits on her bed when it’s Thanos’s turn. He borrows
Now, Jun-hee’s not proud of this next part.
Jun-hee doesn’t even remember what started it. Maybe Thanos said something dumb, maybe she rolled her eyes too hard, maybe it was just the way he wouldn’t stop looking at her. Either way, by the time she realizes what’s happening, she’s already on her knees on the bed, kissing him like she’s been waiting for it all day (which, realistically, deep down she knows she has — the way they were holding each other in the lake was no accident).
There’s no hesitation this time. His mouth moves against hers immediately, clumsy but hungry, like he’s been holding back and just got permission to let go. Jun-hee fists the fabric of his hoodie and pulls, dragging him closer until his weight tips toward her, until the mattress dips with both of them trying to take up the same space.
Her lips sting when his teeth catch on them, but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch. If anything, she tilts her head and kisses him harder, pressing forward like she’s the one setting the pace. Thanos makes a low, surprised sound in his throat — half-groan, half-laugh — and his hand slides up her side, warm through the cotton of her shirt, steadying her like she might break the second he lets go.
She hates how much that steadiness matters. She hates how much she leans into it.
The kiss grows sloppy fast, their mouths opening, closing, missing, finding each other again, breath tangling hot between them. Jun-hee gasps against his lips when his thumb brushes beneath her jaw, tipping her head just enough to deepen the angle, and suddenly the kiss isn’t just messy — it’s deep, dragging, consuming. Her head spins with it, her chest aches from not breathing enough, but she can’t pull away.
When she finally does, it’s barely an inch, their noses brushing, her breath shallow. Thanos looks wrecked — lips swollen, hair pushed back unevenly where she’d grabbed it without thinking, still damp from the shower. He looks at her like he’s not sure if this is real, like one wrong move will break it.
Jun-hee doesn’t give him time to over-think it. She drags him back in, kissing him again, faster, rougher, their teeth clicking before they find the rhythm again. His hands have found her waist now, squeezing just enough to make her shiver, anchoring her in place when she tries to pull him even closer. He laughs into her mouth when she makes a frustrated sound, but the laugh turns into a groan when she bites his lower lip, hard enough to sting.
She pulls back just long enough to mutter, breathless, “Don’t laugh at me.”
Thanos just smirks, eyes dark, lips red, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
And then he’s kissing her again, pushing her back into the pillows this time, bracing himself over her like he can’t stop, like every pause is too long. His hoodie brushes against her chin when she yanks at the collar again, pulling him down, refusing to let him put any space between them. He’s basically in her lap at this point, which in any other situation Jun-hee would be laughing at.
Minutes blur. The room fills with the sound of their breathing, the wet press of lips, the quiet creak of the bedframe under their shifting weight. She loses count of how many times she pushes him back just to drag him down again, how many times she swears internally she’s going to stop only to surge forward like her body didn’t get the memo.
By the time they finally break apart for air, Jun-hee’s chest is heaving, her hair mussed around her face and falling out of her previously done ponytail, her mouth raw from kissing too much too hard. Thanos leans over her, one hand still curled at her hip, the other braced beside her head. His grin is there, predictably smug — but his breathing’s ragged, his eyes blown wide, his lips just as swollen as hers.
—
It smells like ramen seasoning and weed in Min-su’s living room. The curtains are drawn, the TV is on some variety show none of them are actually watching, and the coffee table is a mess of empty chip bags, soda cans, and a half-dead lighter that doesn’t belong to anyone. A questionable collection of beanbags, a busted couch, and two folding chairs dragged in from the garage. Gyeong-su is sprawled on the floor, trying to teach Min-su a card game Jun-hee doesn’t even understand the rules of. But he’s too distracted watching Se-mi — who is perched on a beanbag with her legs crossed, holding Thanos’ hand steady as she paints his nails glittery purple.
He keeps flinching every time the brush gets near his cuticles, to which Se-mi threatens to ‘stab you with this thing if you don’t sit still’. Jun-hee squeezes onto the edge of the couch — and, unfortunately, Nam-gyu drops into the other half of it like it’s his throne.
Jun-hee crosses her arms, ready for whatever dumbass comment he’s about to make. But for once, Nam-gyu doesn’t bite. He leans back, yawning, and mutters, “You always sit on the edge like you’re about to dip.”
Jun-hee blinks, and, defensively, responds in the same quieter tone, “Maybe I am. ”
“You won’t.” Nam-gyu says, like he knows. Like he’s so sure he has the girl next to him all figured out, “If you hated us that bad, you would’ve left a while ago, like— months back.”
She stares at him for a second too long, caught off-guard. He doesn’t even look smug — not teasing, not poking at her like usual. It makes Jun-hee feel a bit cracked open in a way she hadn’t prepared for (especially not from Nam-gyu of all people).
Across the room, Thanos blurts out: “She’s making me look so pretty, bro!” as Se-mi blows gently on his nails to dry them. Min-su laughs so loud he drops his cards, and Gyeong-su swears under his breath like the house of cards he’d started building instead was actually important.
Jun-hee shakes her head, hiding her smirk with her sleeve pulled over her hand. Nam-gyu catches it anyway.
“ What? ” She snaps before he can get clever.
“Nothing.” He grins, glancing at her for a moment before returning his attention to the two men on the floor now poorly shuffling cards.
Objectively, he was right, about his observation anyway — not that he’s right about anything else ever. Jun-hee wasn’t gonna leave, she’s made it this deep with these fools she’s begrudgingly begun to enjoy being around. They don’t need to know that though. And Nam-gyu definitely doesn’t need to be pointing it out in front of everyone.
Jun-hee crosses her arms, “I’m just keeping Se-mi company so she won’t be alone with you freaks.” She mutters, a faux explanation.
Nam-gyu snorts, “Whatever you gotta tell yourself to sleep at night.”
