Archive of Our Own

None’s pov 

Po had been sitting on the sofa in Dylan's apartment for 15 minutes.  

Under the influence of alcohol, her surroundings felt blurry, chaotic, and she felt a strong desire for connection.  

“Dylan, how much longer do I have to wait, girl?” 

However, she got no response, 

Dylan was still getting ready; she took 10 minutes to pick up a new dress to wear.

She wanted to look scandalous and get laid and was going for a bold, edgy look, wearing a snug black crop top with a short leather jacket thrown over it. She definitely knows how to make someone crazy over her…and then paired with tiny black shorts with silver-studded details catching the light.

Dylan's legs were wrapped in sheer black tights, tucked into boots that clicked against the floor. The outfit showed off the ink curling up his thigh—a dark, floral tattoo that stood out against her skin, just barely visible under the hem of her shorts.

Po boasted in Dylan's room with a loud thud, tipsy and unsteady.  

"My beloved girlfriend, do you possess the club?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm.  

Dylan rolled his eyes, shooting a glare at Po.

"Please give me just two more minutes; I'm looking for my lip gloss. Can you help me find it?" he urged.  

Po quickly approached the dressing table to assist in locating the lip gloss; the surface was such a disaster... "You really need to tidy this up now and then, Dylan," he sighed.

“Ugh, quit your whining, did you argue with Thame or what? You seem really down,” Dylan asked while searching for his block-heeled long boots that coordinated with her outfit.  

“Hmm, no, I didn’t, but Thame canceled on me today; she had an important meeting with the album producers.”

“Uhhhh, that’s why my sweet girl is feeling sad and drunk,” Dylan teased playfully, a smirk dancing on his lips. She watched as Po stumbled toward him, clutching a shiny tube of lip gloss in her hand. With a soft sigh, she leaned heavily against Dylan, resting her head on his shoulder as if it were a comforting pillow.

Dylan looked down at her, his expression softening. She gently reached for the lip gloss, coaxing it out of her grasp with a tender, reassuring smile. “Let’s save this for later, alright?” she said, as he held the glossy tube up, inspecting it briefly before setting it aside.

Somehow, and applied it while Po’s all weight was on Dylan. Dylan was struggling, but he knew how lovesick Po could get when she misses Thame, so she let him be. Po slightly moved back when Dylan was done with his makeup touch-up. She was slightly taller than Dylan. He looked up from and pouted at Dylan to seek comfort,

 “You want lip gloss, Missy…” and Po nodded like a good girl. 

Dylan took Po’s face in his hands, pressing a cute peck on Po’s cheeks, handing her the lip gloss. Po smiled; the cute little gesture actually made her happy. 

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, his voice bubbling with uncontainable joy. SHe pulled away from Dylan just long enough to flash a beaming smile before wrapping his arms tightly around him for a big hug. “You’re the best girlfriend ever!” 

Her enthusiasm was infectious, and she squeezed Dylan so tightly that he could feel the air being pushed from her lungs, almost to the point of fainting. 

“Okay, okay! Don’t smother me like this,” Dylan gasped, laughter tinged with desperation as she tried to wriggle free. “If you keep this up, I'm going to have to go tell your girlfriend about your murderous hugs!” 

Dylan’s playful protest only seemed to intensify the playful embrace, with Po’s arms enveloping him as if she were afraid to let go.

“Don’t be silly, pabo. You know Thame won’t say anything to you,” Po said with a playful giggle, sounding just like a schoolgirl. 

It was true—Thame and Dylan had been best friends for as long as they could remember. Their bond was incredibly strong, transcending that of typical friendships. They had even dated at one point, but as time went on, they realized their tastes in relationships didn't quite align, leading them to break things off. 

Po entered their lives with chaos, bringing excitement and joy. Thame became fascinated by Po almost immediately; it felt like a sudden spark. Before she could fully understand his feelings, she found herself talking about Po all the time. Her smile grew wider, and his laughter became lighter every day. Dylan saw this change in her best friend and felt happy. He was genuinely pleased to see Thame so cheerful.

Dylan quickly became close friends with Po. Po understood him and Thame on a deeper level. Po felt like a supportive friend who could see the details of their experiences. Thame and Dylan openly shared their past relationship with Po. To their surprise, Po accepted this part of their lives with kindness. Dylan admired Po’s honesty—it was a quality she valued. This openness helped strengthen their friendship, making it even more special.

Dylan gently pulled Po out of the warm embrace, a playful reminder that they were running late for their night at the club. With a reluctant sigh, Po slumped backward. She accepted the upcoming adventure of the night. Dylan held two helmets in her hands. Their smooth surfaces felt cool, his enthusiasm was infectious, and as Po was pulled outside, they heard the lively sounds of the evening air,

signaling that the night was just beginning..

Meanwhile Jun

Jun was very tired from the constant pressure of corporate life. The stressful office environment and a boss who did not care about work-life balance had worn her out. After thinking it over, he finally reached his limit.

Feeling both excited and a bit nervous, she left the office earlier than usual, her heart racing as he walked home. He felt a sense of freedom as he released the stress from deadlines and meetings.

Jun slipped into a fitted wine-red dress that hugged his body in all the right places. The soft fabric gathered slightly at the sides to create a natural shape, while the short hem showed off her legs. He added a loose black leather jacket on top. The shiny material caught the light with every move, giving a sharp edge to his simple look.

Jun arranged a cab to the well-known club; tonight, she was by herself, without any friends or companions, just her, as if she wished to blend into the night and escape all his troubles. SHe felt the absence of Nano and Pepper, but the guys were away celebrating their third anniversary. 

As she sat in the car, his screen lit up with a call, and her face changed immediately.

 A call from Nano was exactly what she needed.

“Nanooo,” Jun whined like a baby.

 “Heyy Jun, how are you? Oh… are you going out tonight? What’s the occasion?”

Jun nodded with enthusiasm.

 “Naa, nothing special. ONER has been kicking ass lately, I need a break… and without you guys, I don’t know what to do. So I just ran away early from work to go to our usual club.” Jun explained with a cute pout, looking like she might burst into tears, though she held it back.

Jun’s lips curved into a smirk—she knew Nano had noticed the sadness on her face and was trying to cheer her up.

“Oh dear, I miss you a lot. I promise once I’m back, we’ll take a whole day off and spend it doing our favorite things… hit the malls, go for hotpot, eat ice cream, maybe wander into some interesting shops.”

Jun could always trust Nano to make her feel better.

“I can’t wait, babe, I miss you a lot too… by the way, where’s Pepper??” she said, smiling wide.

“Pepper just went out to grab some delivery. I didn’t want to leave the bed today.” Jun knew exactly why they weren’t going out—she bet Nano and Pepper had spent the whole day in bed celebrating in their own way, and she was very glad for it.

Jun pushed open the heavy doors and was immediately swallowed by the club’s electric atmosphere. The bass thumped through the floor, lights flashing in neon bursts of pink and blue, painting everyone in wild colors. The air was thick with energy—laughter, the clinking of glasses, bodies moving together on the dance floor like one endless wave.

sHe slipped inside, trying to make his way through the crowd toward the bar, his eyes adjusting to the chaos of strobes and glittering light. Just as he rounded a corner, he bumped straight into someone.

A girl with silver-grey hair turned at the impact, her drink tilting dangerously but not spilling. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Their eyes locked—Jun’s breath caught as she was pulled in by her gaze, sharp yet shimmering under the lights. She was stunning, almost unreal in the strobe glow.

The music raged on around them, but in that brief second, it felt like the entire club had gone silent.

Dylan

Dylan and Po had been tearing up the dance floor for nearly half an hour, the pulsing beats of the club surrounding them as they moved in perfect harmony. With two drinks already in their hands, the lively atmosphere only intensified their energy. 

Laughter and playful teasing floated between them as they swayed to the music, completely lost in the moment. Dylan had gone the extra mile to ensure the night was special—she had booked a private table at the exclusive club, ready for a night. 

Dylan also messaged Thame to join them once his meeting wrapped up, wanting to surprise Po and make the evening unforgettable. Dylan enjoyed being a girl's girl. Although she would never say it out loud.

Dylan and Po were already on the dance floor, arms slung around each other, swaying and laughing with the music. It was easy, hot—two friends caught up in the rhythm. Po suddenly leaned close, shouting over the bass, “I need another drink!”

Dylan shook her head, laughing. “No way, you’ve had enough. I already finished two, let’s calm down a bit.”

But Po wasn’t listening. With a mischievous grin, she grabbed Dylan’s hand and started running toward the bar, pulling her along through the crowd. Both of them giggled, dodging people as the lights flashed around them.

And then—it happened. Dylan collided with someone. A girl in a burgundy dress and a leather jacket. Their eyes met for a brief, charged second, and Dylan froze. The world blurred, the music faded; she couldn’t look away. The girl’s presence was magnetic, pulling her in without a word.

But Po tugged harder on her arm, still laughing and dragging her toward the bar. In a heartbeat, the moment was gone. Dylan turned her head back desperately, but the girl had already melted into the crowd.

Jun

Jun stumbled through the crowd until she found a quieter corner to settle in. Her heart was still racing, her mind replaying the brief moment with the grey-haired girl. The music pounded through the walls, lights flashing across the room, but none of it mattered—she was nowhere to be found.

Jun hugged herself a little, feeling that familiar shyness creep in. She was too awkward, too unsure to go searching or strike up a conversation with strangers. So instead, she stayed tucked in her corner, letting the music wash over her. The beat was loud, the atmosphere electric, but inside her head all she could think about was those eyes that had met hers, just for a second, and left her breathless.

After a while, a couple of boys made their way over to Jun, smiling and offering her drinks. She forced a polite smile, but inside she was shrinking back, her discomfort rising with every word they tried to say. The loud music and the crowded space only made it worse.

Not wanting to deal with it, Jun quickly mumbled a small excuse and slipped away, pretending she needed to use the washroom. She moved fast, weaving through the crowd until she was out of sight. Relief washed over her the moment she stepped inside, away from the noise and the unwanted attention.

She didn’t want to face any men tonight—her heart was still stuck on the girl with the grey hair, and no one else seemed to matter.

Dylan 

At the bar, Dylan leaned against the counter, still catching her breath from being dragged there by Po. She was halfway through telling Po to slow down when a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“Guess who’s here?”

Po spun around and her eyes lit up instantly—Thame. Without thinking, she rushed into her arms, nearly knocking over Dylan’s drink in the process. Dylan blinked, a little caught off guard, then let out a laugh.

“Wow, okay… so I’m the third wheel now?” she teased, rolling her eyes. But deep down she was smiling. Po’s happiness was so bright, it made Dylan’s chest warm just watching them together.

Thame and Po slipped easily into their own little bubble, laughing and leaning close as if the whole club had disappeared around them. Dylan raised her hands in mock defeat. “Alright, alright, I get it. You two go enjoy it. I’ll catch up later.”

“Are you sure?” Po asked, already holding onto Thame’s arm like she didn’t want to let go.

“Yes, go,” Dylan chuckled. “Take the private table. I’ll join you after I run to the washroom.”

Po’s grin grew even wider, and with that, she and Thame disappeared into the crowd, leaving Dylan alone at the bar. Dylan shook her head, amused, then set her glass down before turning toward the hallway leading to the washrooms.

Dylan pushed open the door to the washroom, the muffled bass of the club fading behind her. Inside, Jun was already at the sink, washing her hands, her head snapping up the moment Dylan stepped in. Her eyes widened—there she was, the gorgeous grey-haired girl, standing right in front of her.

Dylan walked casually to the sink beside her, brushing close enough that their shoulders almost touched as she passed. The air between them tightened, heavy with unspoken tension. Jun’s breath caught, her heart hammering so loud she swore Dylan could hear it. Dylan, on the other hand, had the faintest smirk curling on her lips, like she knew exactly what she was doing.

Trying to distract herself, Jun fumbled in her bag and pulled out a gloss, carefully applying it to her lips. She focused on the mirror, avoiding Dylan’s eyes.

But Dylan noticed. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady in the reflection as she tilted her head toward Jun.

“I like that gloss,” she said smoothly, pointing in Jun’s direction through the mirror.

Jun froze, cheeks warming. “Do… do you want some?” she asked shyly, her voice barely above the hum of the sink.

Dylan didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until their shoulders pressed together. She lifted a finger to tilt Jun’s chin up, her touch light but firm, and before Jun could react, Dylan leaned in and kissed her hard—stealing the gloss straight from her lips.

Jun’s mind spun, heat rushing through her chest. She didn’t even know what to do, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. Dylan pulled back with that same sly smirk, her voice low and teasing as she whispered,

“Drinks on me… if you want, puppy.”

Dylan left the washroom with a satisfied smirk tugging at her lips. She could still taste the sweetness of Jun’s gloss, the stunned look on her face replaying in her mind like a victory. Cute. Too cute, Dylan thought, glancing over her shoulder. Sure enough, Jun was following her—hesitant, almost stumbling, like a lost puppy trying not to lose sight of her. The sight made Dylan’s smirk deepen. She’s already hooked.

When they reached the bar, Dylan didn’t just slide onto a stool. Instead, she pulled one out smoothly, turning to Jun with an exaggerated, mock-gentleman flourish.

“After you, my love,” she purred.

Jun froze, her eyes wide. Words failed her, so she simply nodded and obeyed, sitting down with her heart in her throat. Dylan sat beside her, close enough that their arms brushed. Jun’s gaze darted everywhere but Dylan’s face, her shyness written in every small fidget of her hands.

Dylan tilted her head, enjoying the silence, then leaned in just enough to break it.

“How do I earn your name?” she asked, her voice rich with playful seriousness.

Jun couldn’t help it—she giggled, finally daring to glance up at Dylan. “You don’t need to… I’m Jun. Nice to meet you.”

Dylan’s eyes sparkled. She reached for Jun’s hand without hesitation, lifting it slowly and brushing her lips across the back. “I’m Dylan,” she said smoothly, her voice dropping as if it were meant for Jun alone.

Jun swore she might combust right then and there. Her face burned, her pulse quickened, and every nerve in her body screamed at her to do something—but all she could do was stare, utterly undone by the grey-haired girl in front of her.

The bartender set two fresh glasses in front of them, and Dylan leaned an elbow on the counter, eyes never leaving Jun. She could feel the nervous energy radiating from her, and it only made Dylan more curious. Shy. Sweet. I wonder what she’s hiding.

“You look like you need a distraction,” Dylan said, smirking as she swirled her glass. “How about a game?”

Jun tilted her head, her voice soft. “What kind of game?”

“Two truths and a lie,” Dylan answered smoothly. “We take turns. If you catch my lie, I drink. If I catch yours, you drink. Deal?”

Jun hesitated, then gave the tiniest nod, her lips curving into a shy smile. “Deal.”

“Good girl,” Dylan teased, her voice low enough to make Jun shift in her seat. Then she leaned closer, their shoulders brushing as she listed her choices slowly, savoring each one.

“Number one,” Dylan said, holding up a finger, “I can’t rap well.”

Her second finger came up. “Number two, I know how to ride a bike.”

And then the third, paired with a sly grin. “Number three, I’ve never taken a girl home on my bike.”

She sat back, sipping from her glass as she let the words hang between them, watching Jun’s reaction with sharp, interested eyes.

Jun blinked, caught between giggling and staring at Dylan like she was trying to solve a riddle. The way Dylan delivered that last line… it wasn’t just casual, it was loaded.

Jun swallowed, feeling the weight of the question underneath the game. Dylan wasn’t just playing—she was digging, wanting to know. Does she like girls?

Jun licked her lips, trying to focus, but her pulse refused to calm down. Dylan tilted her head, still smirking. “So… what do you think, Jun? Which one’s the lie?”

Jun sat frozen, twisting the edge of her glass between her fingers. Her thoughts tangled, the music in the background fading to nothing as Dylan’s words replayed in her head.

“It’s not possible…” Jun whispered under her breath, cheeks burning.

Dylan leaned closer, her voice brushing her ear. “Hm? What’s not possible, puppy?”

Jun fumbled, looking down at her lap. “I—I think… the lie is… that you’ve never taken a girl back home on your bike…”

Her voice trailed off, uncertain. She wasn’t confident at all, and it showed. Dylan chuckled low, the sound rolling in her chest like velvet. “Not very sure of yourself, are you?”

Jun’s frustration rose, her lips pressing into a pout. But before she could say anything, Dylan shifted slightly, her knee brushing against Jun’s. The touch was subtle, casual even—but it sent a rush of heat through Jun’s body, making her focus slip even further.

She tried to look away, anywhere else but Dylan. That’s when her gaze caught it—a faint shadow of ink curling up Dylan’s thigh, just barely visible beneath the hem of her shorts. Her breath hitched, and she swallowed hard.

Dylan noticed. Of course she noticed. Her smirk widened as she tilted Jun’s chin up with two fingers, guiding her gaze away from her legs and straight into her eyes. “Eyes up here, princess,” Dylan purred, her tone sharp with playfulness.

Jun’s throat tightened as she gulped again, forcing the words out. “I… I think the lie is… that you’ve never taken a girl home.”

Dylan’s smirk deepened, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Interesting,” she murmured, not confirming or denying right away—just letting Jun squirm under her gaze a little longer.

Jun’s fingers wouldn’t stay still—she kept fiddling with her hands in her lap, twisting them together like she was trying to hold herself together. Dylan, of course, noticed. She always noticed.

With a lazy grin, Dylan leaned closer and closer until her lips were just at Jun’s ear, her voice low and smooth, nearly drowned out by the music.

“Why are you so tense, puppy? Just relax…”

The warmth of her breath sent shivers straight down Jun’s spine. Then came Dylan’s hand, sliding up gently to pet through Jun’s hair. The touch was soft, almost affectionate, and Jun couldn’t stop herself from leaning into it, her eyes fluttering. She felt like she was melting, her thoughts slipping away.

Her heart thudded so loudly it was all she could hear. For a split second, she almost reached out—her hand twitching, ready to grab Dylan, to pull her closer.

But Dylan pulled away first.

Jun let out the tiniest sound, a soft little purr of distress at the sudden loss. She sank back into her seat, cheeks flushed, looking completely undone. Dylan only chuckled, sliding casually back into her own space, as if nothing had happened.

“Wrong answer, puppy,” Dylan drawled, tapping her glass. “I’ve never taken a girl home before. Which means…” She signaled to the bartender with two fingers. “That’s a shot for you.”

Two small glasses slid onto the counter. Dylan pushed one toward Jun, her smirk sharp and playful. “Go on. Don’t tell me you’re shy now.”

Jun hesitated, pouting as she wrapped her fingers around the glass. Dylan leaned her chin into her palm, watching her with narrowed eyes full of amusement. “Cute. You look like you’re about to faint already, and we haven’t even started.”

Jun shot her a shy glare, lifting the glass with both hands. “You’re… impossible,” she muttered before downing it quickly.

Dylan laughed, low and smooth, and tilted her head. “Mm. Impossible, maybe. Irresistible, definitely.”

Jun took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as if she was about to do something brave. Dylan noticed instantly, her smirk tugging wider.

“Your turn, puppy,” Dylan said, swirling her glass. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Jun leaned in just slightly, trying to mimic Dylan’s confidence. “Alright… Two truths and a lie.” She tapped her finger on the bar, her eyes flickering between Dylan’s lips and the glass in her hand. “One… I’m not single. Two… I’ve dated plenty of girls before. And three…” she hesitated, biting her lip, “…I’ve kissed a girl at a club before.”

The words tumbled out, shaky but determined. Jun sat back quickly, trying to look confident, though her cheeks betrayed her—flushed pink, giving her away.

Dylan’s laugh was immediate. Rich, low, and entirely amused. “Oh, sweetheart…” She leaned closer, her nose nearly brushing Jun’s cheek. “All three of those are lies.”

Jun’s eyes widened. “Wha—what do you mean? You can’t know that!”

“Oh, but I can.” Dylan tilted her head, her smirk sharp as a blade. “You’re single. You’ve never dated a girl. And you definitely haven’t kissed one at a club… until maybe tonight.” Her gaze dropped to Jun’s lips, deliberate and lingering.

Jun froze, her chest tight, her hands fidgeting again. Dylan inched closer, so close that her lips hovered just a breath away from Jun’s. Jun’s body leaned instinctively forward, her heart pounding, waiting—aching—for the kiss.

But Dylan stopped just short, her smirk widening as she pulled back at the very last second.

“Nice try, puppy. But lying doesn’t suit you.” Her voice was low, teasing, velvet with heat. “That’s another shot for you.”

Jun let out a frustrated little sound, part pout, part whine, as Dylan pushed another glass her way. Her fingers trembled as she picked it up, glaring weakly at Dylan. Dylan only laughed again, brushing her hand lightly against Jun’s thigh under the bar as she whispered,

“You’re curious, aren’t you? That’s adorable.”

Jun nearly choked on the shot, her face burning hotter than ever.

The music swallowed them whole the second they stepped onto the dance floor. Jun wasn’t sure what pulled her there—maybe it was the shots, maybe it was Dylan’s sly smirk when she held out her hand, maybe it was the magnetic pull she couldn’t shake. Whatever it was, she followed.

The beat shook the floor, heavy and relentless, vibrating through Jun’s chest as Dylan tugged her into the heart of the crowd. Neon lights sliced through the haze, painting them in wild shades of blue and pink. Bodies moved everywhere, swaying, grinding, lost to the music—but to Jun, it felt like only Dylan existed.

Dylan didn’t waste time. She pulled Jun flush against her, one hand resting at Jun’s hip, guiding her into the rhythm. Jun followed clumsily at first, then naturally, her movements syncing with Dylan’s like they had been dancing together forever. The closeness was dizzying—the press of Dylan’s body, the sharp scent of her perfume, the heat of her skin under the strobe lights.

Jun’s hands hovered awkwardly, unsure of where to rest, until Dylan smirked and took matters into her own hands—sliding Jun’s arms around her shoulders. “There,” she mouthed, her lips brushing against Jun’s ear. The bass was too loud to hear properly, but the gesture alone sent Jun’s heart into overdrive.

They moved together, hips aligning, their legs brushing with every beat. Dylan leaned in so close her lips nearly grazed Jun’s jaw, whispering things Jun couldn’t catch over the music—but the tone was enough. It made her knees weak.

Jun wanted to ask. Wanted Dylan’s number. She wanted more. Jun leaned in, mouth close to Dylan’s ear, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she pressed closer, her fingers tightening around Dylan’s shoulders as if to say don’t let me go. Dylan noticed—of course she did—and her smirk deepened, eyes glinting under the flashing lights.

Their faces drew closer, noses almost brushing, the air charged so thick it felt impossible to breathe. Jun swore she’d finally lose herself in that moment—

And then a tap broke through the haze.

Dylan turned, her hand still at Jun’s waist, to see Thame standing behind them. His expression was calm, almost amused, but his words were clear. “Po’s been looking for you.”

Dylan exhaled dramatically, as though annoyed, though her fingers never left Jun’s skin. “Always keeping me busy,” she muttered, rolling her eyes before glancing back at Jun. With a sly smile, she laced their fingers together and tugged her toward the tables.

Jun stumbled after her, still breathless, still half in the moment of what almost was.

Jun followed Dylan through the crowd, their hands still laced together, and every step felt unreal. The music still pulsed in her chest, but her mind was far louder.

*What just happened?*

Her skin was on fire, her lips tingled like they had almost been kissed, and her legs were weak from the closeness of Dylan’s body against hers. She replayed it over and over—the smirk, the way Dylan guided her hands up around her shoulders, the way their hips fit like puzzle pieces in rhythm.

It was intoxicating. And terrifying.

Jun had never danced that close with anyone before, not like that—not with a girl who looked like Dylan, who moved like Dylan, who seemed to know exactly how to undo her with the smallest touches.

Her stomach flipped when she glanced down at their joined hands. Dylan’s grip was firm, effortless, like she belonged holding her there. Jun’s chest tightened at the thought of letting go, so she didn’t. She just followed, weaving through the flashing lights and shifting bodies, her breath short, her heart pounding.

She wanted to say something—your number, please, don’t disappear, don’t leave me guessing —but her throat locked every time the words bubbled up. All she could do was trail after her like she was tethered, hopelessly caught in Dylan’s orbit.

I don’t even know her… Jun thought, biting her lip, her gaze glued to Dylan’s grey hair glowing under the neon. But why do I feel like I’ll lose something important if I let go now?

And just like that, they reached the table, Dylan turning with that infuriating smirk that only made Jun’s heart race harder.

The private table sat tucked away in the corner, glowing under a softer light compared to the chaos of the dance floor. Bottles lined the table, half-empty glasses scattered across it, but the first thing Jun noticed was Po—her face lit up the second Dylan appeared.

“Finally!” Po practically jumped to her feet, her voice high with excitement as she threw her arms around Dylan. “You vanished on me!”

Dylan hugged her back easily, her usual smirk tugging at her lips. “Relax, I didn’t go far.”

Jun stood a little awkwardly at Dylan’s side, still catching her breath from the dance floor. Thame was sitting comfortably at the edge of the booth, a quiet smile on his face as his eyes flicked toward Dylan and then Jun, silently taking in the scene.

Po leaned back, her gaze flicking curiously to Jun. “And who’s this?”

Dylan didn’t miss a beat. She slid an arm loosely around Jun’s waist, tugging her a fraction closer. “This,” she said smoothly, her voice dripping with mischief, “is Jun.”

Jun’s face burned instantly at the casual claim, and she gave a small, awkward nod. “H-hi…” she managed, her voice barely audible over the music.

Po’s eyes widened in delight, her grin spreading ear to ear. “Ooooh, Jun! Nice to meet you!” she chirped, her bubbly warmth immediately disarming. “She’s cute, Dylan.”

Jun wanted to crawl into the floor. Dylan, of course, only chuckled, clearly amused at her fluster. “I know,” she teased, her fingers brushing lightly along Jun’s shoulder as if she enjoyed watching her squirm.

Thame leaned forward slightly, offering Jun a polite nod. “Nice to meet you,” he said, his tone calm, measured, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes—like he was quietly piecing things together.

Jun muttered a soft “Nice to meet you too,” but the truth was, her focus wasn’t really on Po’s grin or Thame’s calmness. All she could feel was Dylan’s arm around her, her touch deliberate and steady, keeping her tethered.

Even in a room full of people, Jun’s world had narrowed to one person—the grey-haired girl who seemed to know exactly how to undo her with the smallest gestures.

Even at the private table, with Po chattering excitedly and Thame watching on in calm amusement, Dylan’s focus never wavered from Jun. She lounged back against the booth, her arm stretched casually along the top so her fingers could just barely brush the edge of Jun’s shoulder. Jun sat stiffly at first, clutching her drink like a lifeline, trying her best to appear composed—though the pink in her cheeks betrayed her.

The alcohol was making her head fuzzy, loosening her grip on her nerves, but not enough to stop her from catching Dylan’s eyes every few seconds. Each time she did, Dylan smirked knowingly, like she was in on some secret Jun hadn’t even admitted to herself yet.

At one point, Dylan reached across the table to grab a napkin and a pen left behind. With movements so casual it seemed careless, she scribbled quickly, folded the napkin into a neat square, and—when Jun leaned forward to adjust her jacket—Dylan slipped it smoothly into the inside pocket. Her expression didn’t change, her smirk never faltering, as if nothing had happened.

Jun didn’t notice. She was too busy trying not to melt under Dylan’s proximity.

Her phone buzzed suddenly, breaking the tension. She blinked at the screen, her face falling. “Ah… it’s the office.”

Po blinked in surprise. “The office? At this hour?”

Jun nodded, fumbling to answer the call. Her voice was hushed, apologetic. “Yes… okay, I’ll be there. Right away.” She hung up, flustered, and turned to the table. “I—I’m sorry, I have to leave. Something urgent came up.”

Dylan’s smirk softened into something unreadable. “You’re drunk,” she said simply, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll take you home.”

Jun shook her head too quickly, her face heating up even more. “No, no—it’s fine. I’ll call a cab. Really. I… I can manage.”

“Puppy…” Dylan drawled, leaning closer. “You can barely sit straight.”

Jun bit her lip, stood up too quickly, and nearly stumbled. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted, her words more fluster than conviction. “Thank you, but— I should go.”

Before Dylan could stop her, she hurried off, nearly tripping in her rush to escape. Her face burned, her mind spinning with everything Dylan had said and done. She pushed through the crowd, desperate for air, never realizing the folded napkin tucked safely inside her jacket pocket—the sly little secret Dylan had left behind.

Dylan leaned back against the booth, watching her disappear into the crowd with a smirk that was half satisfied, half hungry. “Run, puppy,” she murmured under her breath. “I’ll see you soon.”

Jun stumbled through her apartment door, kicking her shoes off with more force than necessary. Her head spun—not from the drinks alone, but from the whiplash of the night. The club, the dancing, Dylan. God, Dylan. And then her boss ruining everything with a stupid call about a file she could’ve sent tomorrow.

She tossed her bag on the couch and nearly threw her phone after it. “For a *file*,” she muttered bitterly, her voice slurred. “A freaking file.”

Her chest ached with something she couldn’t name—half longing, half frustration. She wanted Dylan there with her, wanted that smirk close enough to touch, wanted the comfort and the teasing all tangled together. But instead she was alone in her too-quiet apartment.

Jun yanked open the fridge and stared at the row of beer bottles like they held the answer. “Fine,” she huffed, grabbing one, then another. “If the universe hates me, then so be it.”

The hours blurred. She drank until the anger dulled into sadness, until the sadness spilled over into tears she tried to laugh off, until she felt wrecked enough not to care. By the time she collapsed onto the couch, her head heavy, she was clutching an empty bottle like a lifeline.

She reached blindly for a napkin from her jacket pocket, wiping her mouth clumsily. That’s when she noticed it wasn’t just a napkin.

Her bleary eyes narrowed at the faint scrawl of ink across the crumpled square. Numbers. A phone number.

“What the…?” she mumbled, squinting, trying to focus. She had no memory of writing it, no idea who it belonged to. Her brain was too foggy to piece it together, her heart too raw to think.

Before she could second-guess it, she was unlocking her phone, clumsily typing in the digits. The ringing tone buzzed in her ear, louder than it should’ve been, each beat making her chest squeeze tighter.

Jun hiccupped, pressing the phone harder to her ear. “Please don’t be my boss,” she slurred softly, half a prayer, half a plea.

She had no idea the call was about to connect her straight back to the one person she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about all night. Dylan.

Dylan

Dylan watched Jun’s retreating figure vanish into the crowd, that flushed, flustered look lingering in her mind long after the girl was gone. Puppy girl. So shy, so eager, and yet running from her like the devil himself was chasing her. Dylan leaned back in the booth, draping one arm lazily along the backrest, but her smirk had softened into something more wistful.

It was a damn shame. She hadn’t gotten Jun’s number—at least, not directly. She could only hope the little napkin trick worked. That the girl would find it, that she’d call. Dylan’s heart did a little flip at the thought, one she tried to ignore.

By the time Thame and Po were tipsy enough to lean into each other and giggle like teenagers, Dylan was already restless. She ruffled Po’s hair, earning a playful swat, and said, “You two lovebirds enjoy your night. I’m heading out.”

Po pouted dramatically but waved her off, already absorbed in Thame’s arms. Dylan chuckled, then grabbed her jacket and helmet, making her way outside into the cool night air.

The moment she straddled her bike, the engine’s familiar purr beneath her, her mind went straight back to Jun. The way the girl’s lips had glistened with gloss. The way her hands had fidgeted nervously, begging to be held. The way she’d looked at Dylan—like she was dangerous and irresistible all at once.

She drove home on autopilot, wind whipping at her hair, her chest tightening with a feeling she refused to call longing. But damn, she wanted to see that girl again. Wanted to peel back the shyness, see what lay beneath. wanted to taste that gloss properly, not just a stolen peck.

By the time Dylan reached her apartment, the cocky smirk had fallen away. She kicked off her boots, let her jacket drop where it fell, and flopped face-first onto her bed. The pillows smelled faintly like her shampoo, but it wasn’t enough—it wasn’t her puppy. She groaned into the fabric, muffled and raw.

“Goddammit,” she muttered, rolling onto her back. She missed the warmth already. Missed the weight of Jun’s gaze, the sweet awkwardness that made her want to both tease and protect her at the same time.

Her fingers curled into the sheets, a rare ache settling deep in her chest. “Should’ve kissed her properly,” she whispered to the empty room, the thought clinging stubbornly even as sleep dragged her under.

She dreamed with the taste of cherry gloss still lingering in her mind.

Dylan’s phone buzzed against her nightstand, dragging her out of a half-dream. She groaned, fumbling for it with one hand still buried in the pillow. When she finally swiped to answer, a familiar, slurred voice filled her ear before she could even say hello.

“I hate him,” Jun whined, her words tumbling out too fast, too drunk. “My boss is the worst. Do you know what he did? Called me at the club—for a stupid file! Like—like it couldn’t wait until tomorrow. I was having such a good time and then—ugh!”

Dylan blinked, a grin slowly spreading across her sleepy face. Puppy girl.

Jun didn’t pause, didn’t give her a chance to speak. She rambled on, her voice wobbling between hiccups and tiny sniffles. “And then I left and I just… I just wanted to stay. With Dylan. I—” she choked on her own breath, then let it tumble out in a rush. “I really hoped I’d go back to her house on her bike.”

Dylan shot upright in bed, the smirk wiped clean into stunned silence. Her heart skipped, then picked up double-time. So the puppy wanted that after all.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Dylan’s voice dropped low, husky with something between affection and amusement. “Do you want to see me, puppy?”

There was the faint sound of a muffled sob on the other end, then a tiny, shaky whisper. “...yes.”

Dylan swung her legs off the bed, already reaching for her jeans, the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder. “Good girl. Then tell me where you live.”

It took some coaxing—Jun fumbling over her own words, repeating numbers twice, getting distracted by hiccups—but Dylan pieced it together. The second she had the address, something electric shot through her veins.

She didn’t even think. She just grabbed her jacket, keys, and helmet, the phone still pressed to her ear so she could hear Jun’s soft breathing.

“Stay awake for me, puppy,” she said as she locked her door behind her, smirk tugging at her lips again. “I’m coming to get you.”

The engine roared to life beneath her, and Dylan didn’t bother to fight the rush in her chest. She couldn’t wait to see Jun again—to hold her, tease her, maybe kiss her properly this time.

She wanted her puppy in her arms. Tonight.

Jun had just flopped onto her couch, head spinning from the mix of booze and frustration, when a sharp knock rattled through her apartment. She frowned, confused. Who the hell would be here at this hour? Her boss? God forbid.

The knock on the door came sharp and unexpected. Jun frowned, stumbling toward it with bleary steps, her head still spinning from the alcohol. At this hour? Who even—

When she pulled the door open, her breath caught.

“...Dylan?”

There she was—grey hair messy from the ride, jacket hanging open, helmet in hand. Jun blinked hard, like she thought her drunk brain had conjured a hallucination. “What—what are you doing here? How—?”

Before she could finish, Dylan closed the space and swept her into her arms, Jun’s feet leaving the ground with a startled squeak.

“Wait—Dylan! What are you doing? How did you find me?!” Jun babbled, her hands instinctively clutching Dylan’s shoulders as her face flushed. “I didn’t—did I call you? Oh my god I did, didn’t I?”

Dylan chuckled low against her hair, but her grip only tightened, like she’d been starving for this. “You did, puppy. And do you think I’d ignore a call from you?”

Jun squirmed half-heartedly, embarrassed, but Dylan wouldn’t let her go. “This is crazy—you’re actually here—why are you actually here?”

“Because I couldn’t stand being away from you,” Dylan whispered, the raw truth slipping past her sly smile. Her heartbeat was wild in her chest, but she didn’t care if Jun noticed. “Do you really think I’d let my puppy cry over some stupid boss, alone in her apartment?”

Jun’s eyes widened at the intensity, at the warmth in Dylan’s gaze. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the girl herself making her dizzy. “Y-you’re insane,” she mumbled, though her arms slowly tightened around Dylan’s neck. “Totally insane.”

“Maybe,” Dylan admitted with a soft smirk, brushing her nose against Jun’s temple. “But I’m not letting you go. Not tonight.”

Jun let out a shaky laugh that turned into something almost like a sob. She wanted to protest, to keep questioning—but the truth was, Dylan’s arms felt too good, too safe.

And Dylan, holding her like she was the only thing in the world, thought she never wanted to let Jun go again.

Jun buried her face in Dylan’s shoulder, the alcohol and emotion catching up all at once. “I didn’t think you’d really come…” Her voice cracked, small and messy.

Dylan’s arms tightened around her, one hand stroking over her back. “I —I couldn't say no to you.”

Jun’s breath hitched. She clung tighter, drunk and overwhelmed, not even caring how obvious it was. Dylan carried her inside with ease, kicking the door closed behind them.

Her heart was still racing, but for once, Dylan didn’t try to hide it. Having Jun this close—warm, pliant, tucked into her arms—it was everything she’d been craving since the club.

“Relax, puppy,” Dylan whispered against Jun’s temple as she set her gently down on the couch, brushing stray strands of hair from her face. “I’ve got you now.”

Jun’s lips parted like she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Just that dazed, adoring look in her eyes, the kind that nearly unraveled Dylan on the spot.

And Dylan thought, not for the first time that night: she should’ve kissed her properly when she had the chance.

Jun and Dylan ended up on the couch, tangled in a way that felt both clumsy and natural, as if their bodies had been searching for this fit all along. Jun’s head rested on Dylan’s chest, ear pressed against the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. Dylan’s arm draped lazily around her, fingers threading through Jun’s hair, twirling strands as if she never wanted to stop. Their legs were tangled together, the space between them reduced to nothing.

Jun felt warm, safe, and achingly aware of every single touch. Dylan, on the other hand, looked smug in the dim apartment light, gazing down at her like she’d found treasure.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Dylan murmured, brushing her lips against the top of Jun’s head.

Jun groaned softly, embarrassed. “Stop.”

“Can’t,” Dylan teased, her voice husky and low. “Not when you look at me like that. Not when you melt against me like you belong here.”

Jun’s heart stuttered. She should’ve looked away, should’ve hidden her face deeper into Dylan’s chest, but her eyes betrayed her. They drifted lower… toward that faint shadow of ink on Dylan’s thigh, just barely visible beneath the hem of her shorts.

This time, she didn’t just stare.

Jun lifted her hand, hesitating only a moment before brushing her fingertips over the tattoo. Her touch was feather-light, deliberate. When Dylan glanced down, Jun tilted her head up, meeting her eyes with the softest, most devastatingly innocent gaze—the kind that could unravel anyone.

Her puppy eyes.

Dylan’s breath hitched, composure cracking. “Jun…”

The name was half a warning, half a plea. But Jun’s touch lingered, her fingertips tracing the edge of the ink, her lips parting as if she didn’t even realize what she was doing.

That was it. Dylan couldn’t hold back anymore.

She tilted Jun’s chin up with practiced ease and pressed her mouth against hers. The kiss was firm, hungry, the culmination of every charged look, every brush of skin, every unspoken desire that had been building between them since the club.

Jun melted instantly, clutching onto Dylan’s shirt, her whole body alive with the spark of it.

For the first time that night, neither of them pulled away.

Jun’s fingertips lingered against the ink on Dylan’s thigh, the look in her eyes all soft edges and silent questions. That was the breaking point.

Dylan’s chest tightened, a low groan slipping from her throat before she even realized it. She has no idea what she’s doing to me…

“Jun…” Dylan rasped, but it came out rough, dangerous.

Jun blinked up at her, wide-eyed, lips parted, and Dylan snapped.

She cupped Jun’s chin with one hand and pulled her up into a kiss that wasn’t soft, wasn’t cautious. It was desperate, hungry—like she’d been starving for her since the second their eyes met at the club. Their mouths collided, hot and messy, Dylan’s tongue sliding past Jun’s lips before the girl even had a chance to think.

Jun gasped, clutching onto Dylan’s shirt like she was drowning, her body arching closer, needing more. Dylan angled the kiss deeper, one hand sliding into Jun’s hair, the other gripping her hip, pulling her flush against her.

It was heat, pure heat, like all the tension and teasing had finally combusted. Dylan kissed her like she wanted to claim her, like she’d waited far too long to taste her, like she never wanted to stop.

Jun whimpered softly into her mouth, the sound nearly undoing Dylan completely.

When Dylan finally broke away, her forehead pressed against Jun’s, both of them breathing hard, she smirked—her lips swollen, her voice hoarse.

“Do you even know what you do to me, puppy?” she whispered, thumb brushing over Jun’s lower lip, already slick and kiss-bruised.

Jun shook her head weakly, dazed, breathless, completely undone.

And Dylan kissed her again—harder.

Dylan’s mouth crashed back onto Jun’s, hungrier this time, lips and teeth clashing in the kind of kiss that burned straight to the gut. Jun whimpered into it, the sound making Dylan growl low in her throat. Her hand slid up under Jun’s shirt, not quite daring to push further, but roaming just enough to feel the warmth of her skin.

Jun shivered, clutching at Dylan like she’d fall apart if she let go. Her fingers fisted in Dylan’s shirt, tugging her closer until there was no space left between them. The air was thick, their breaths ragged, each kiss more urgent than the last.

Dylan shifted, pressing Jun back against the cushions, her body hovering just over hers, thighs tangled tight. She broke the kiss only long enough to trail her lips down Jun’s jaw, grazing teeth against her throat, sucking at the delicate skin there until Jun gasped and arched under her.

“Dylan—” Jun’s voice cracked, half a plea, half disbelief at how good it felt.

“Shhh,” Dylan murmured against her neck, sly and husky. “Just let me.”

Jun’s hands were everywhere now—clumsy, needy—sliding over Dylan’s shoulders, her back, down to the ink on her thigh again as if drawn to it. When she brushed the tattoo with her fingertips a second time, Dylan groaned, biting back a curse as she kissed her harder, deeper, almost punishing.

The couch creaked beneath them as their bodies moved together, heat building, Jun’s soft sounds driving Dylan wild. Every brush of Jun’s lips, every desperate tug at her shirt, made it harder to hold back.

Dylan pulled back just enough to see her face—flushed, lips kiss-bruised, eyes glassy and blown wide. The sight nearly unraveled her.

“You’re killing me, puppy,” Dylan confessed, her voice raw as she pressed their foreheads together. “Do you even know how much I want you?”

Jun could only shake her head, breathless, lips trembling.

So Dylan kissed her again—deep, claiming, hands roaming Jun’s sides like she was memorizing every inch.

The kiss turned ragged, desperate, Jun pulling Dylan closer, almost crawling into her lap. Dylan let her, hands gripping her waist, lips devouring her like she’d been starving for this moment. But then—when Jun tugged at her shirt, trying to pull her closer still—Dylan broke away with a shaky groan, pressing her forehead to Jun’s.

Her breath was uneven, chest rising and falling against Jun’s. “Puppy…” she whispered, voice thick with restraint. “God, you’re making this hard.”

Jun blinked up at her, lips swollen, eyes wide and needy. She whined softly, a bratty little sound, and tried to kiss her again, hands pawing at her shoulders. “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please… I want—”

Dylan hushed her with a thumb over her lips, smirking even though her own self-control was hanging by a thread. “I want you too. More than you realize. But not like this. Not while you’re drunk, not on a couch at two in the morning.”

Jun pouted, scrunching her nose, giving her the most *puppy-eyed rebellion*. “You’re so unfair…” she mumbled, wriggling a little closer anyway, trying to look irresistible.

Dylan chuckled low, leaning in until their noses brushed. “Cute little brat,” she teased, kissing the corner of Jun’s mouth softly, tenderly, in contrast to the fire from before. “You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”

Jun’s cheeks burned, but she still tried, whispering, “Maybe I *want* you to give in…”

Dylan’s heart clenched at how sweetly desperate she sounded. She kissed her again, slower this time, gentle but firm, grounding her. “And I will,” she promised against her lips. “After I take you on a date. After I spoil you a little. After I get to know you properly. You’re not a quick fix, Jun. You’re… worth more than that.”

Jun froze, staring up at her like Dylan had just said the most impossible thing. Her chest swelled with something warm, something terrifying.

Unable to argue anymore, she let Dylan guide her back down onto the cushions. Dylan gathered her close, Jun’s head resting against her chest, legs tangled together, fingers idly stroking through her hair. The fire still simmered between them, but it softened into something tender, safe.

Jun yawned, still pouting faintly, but she melted into the embrace, her little brat act dissolving as exhaustion hit. Dylan kissed her forehead, whispering, “Sleep, puppy. I’ve got you.”

And Jun, flushed and stubborn and secretly the happiest she’d ever been, drifted off in Dylan’s arms—while Dylan lay awake, heart pounding, already planning how she’d win her over properly.

Jun 

Jun’s lips were tingling, her whole body a mess of nerves and heat. Dylan’s kisses had left her dizzy, and she couldn’t think straight—she just wanted more, wanted to drown in the warmth pressing against her. When Dylan pulled back, whispering, “Not like this,” Jun felt like crying.

Her heart thudded painfully as she stared at Dylan’s flushed face, the way her silver hair fell into her eyes, the way she looked like she was fighting herself. Jun’s chest squeezed at how badly she wanted to reach up, grab her, beg her not to stop.

So she tried—pouting, whining, acting bratty in the only way she knew how. “You’re unfair,” she muttered, her voice small but desperate. “I want—”

Dylan only smirked, brushing her lips in featherlight kisses, soft where Jun wanted them hard. The teasing made Jun burn all over. “Cute little brat,” Dylan murmured, “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

Jun’s breath caught, her heart hammering so fast it almost hurt. She couldn’t look away from those piercing eyes. She couldn’t *breathe* properly under their weight. When Dylan said, “You’re worth more than this. I want to know you first, take you out, spoil you,” Jun thought her chest might burst.

No one had ever said something like that to her. No one had ever made her feel so seen.

Her bratty façade crumbled instantly. She gave up, cheeks blazing, and let Dylan guide her back down onto the couch. She didn’t fight when Dylan wrapped her up tight, didn’t resist when her head found Dylan’s chest, right above her racing heartbeat.

Jun lay there, shivering from the aftershock of everything, listening to the steady thrum under her ear as Dylan stroked her hair like she was the most fragile thing in the world. The fire inside her quieted, curling into something softer, something that made her feel warm and safe instead of frantic.

She wanted to argue, to demand more, but exhaustion pressed down heavily, and all she could do was pout faintly and melt into Dylan’s arms.

Her last thought before sleep claimed her was simple, silly, but so real it made her throat tight: I don’t want to wake up without her.

And with Dylan’s warmth wrapped around her, Jun drifted into dreams, heart still racing.