Chapter Text
The coffee shop was a part of your routine every afternoon. And recently, you have a new reason to go there. You always had a thing for hot nerds, and him?! That stranger was unreal, always in the same spot by the window, a laptop open, a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. They gave his sharp, handsome features a softer, more scholarly look.
For weeks, you built a silent ritual: shared, fleeting smiles across the room. The way he’d push his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a long finger when he was deep in thought. The way his eyes would meet yours for a split second too long before he’d duck his head, with a faint blush coloring his cheeks. You felt the same heat rise on your own neck. It was a sweet, agonizing dance.
One day, you see a torrential downpour starting just as you’re packing up. You sigh, pulling your thin jacket tighter around yourself.
“Wait!”
You turn. He’s standing there, laptop bag slung over his shoulder, looking more nervous up close than he ever did from across the room.
“It’s… it’s really coming down,” he says, his voice gentle. “I have an umbrella. Let me walk you home.”
Your heart hammers against your ribs.
“You don’t have to do that,” you reply a bit shyly.
“I want to,” his voice shows a new confidence and a small, determined smile curves his lips. “I’m Yunho, by the way.”
You introduce yourself as he holds the door open. You huddle close beneath the large umbrella, the scent of rain mixing with Yunho’s perfume.
During the walk, his arm brushes against yours with every step, sending sparks through you. The shy glances are still there between the lines of your conversation, filled with easy laughs and unspoken words.
You reach the entrance to your building where a small awning offers minimal shelter from the rain.
You turn to thank him and to say goodnight, but Yunho holds your hand gently before you can say anything.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do,” he murmurs, his tone still gentle but his eyes show you a bit of the same desire you feel.
When you don’t push back or say anything, Yunho steps closer, backing you up until your shoulders meet the cool brick wall.
“Yunho…” you whisper, but he cuts you off.
He cages you in, one hand braced against the wall beside your head, the other coming up to cup your jaw. His thumb strokes your cheek, slowly, and then his mouth is on yours. That makes you shiver in the best way and you feel your heart hammering against your chest.
The kiss is anything but shy. His lips part yours with a confident sweep of his tongue. He tastes sweet and the sensation of his wet and warm tongue dancing with yours, demanding and sensual, sends jolts of pleasure through you.
One hand slides from your jaw to your hip, pulling you flush against him. He pins you there without effort, because that’s where you want to be as well. His other hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. You cling to his shoulders, your head spinning.
He pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips: “Which floor?”
You lead him inside and up the stairs, stealing hungry, desperate kisses along the way. The moment your apartment door clicks shut, he’s on you again. He spins you around to face him, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of your neck while his hands roam freely over your body.
His jacket hits the floor and you don’t even remember the last time you saw his umbrella.
Yunho backs you toward the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He strips you with an efficiency that leaves you breathless, his hands sure and knowing. When you’re both bare, he lifts you effortlessly, laying you on the bed like you’re something precious.
His glasses are abandoned on the nightstand now, and his eyes are burning with desire.
Yunho settles over you, his weight a delicious pressure. The frantic edge melts into something deeper, heavier. He takes his time now… his big, warm hands exploring, memorising. His mouth follows, tracing fire from your collarbones down your stomach. His eyes never leave your face, watching every gasp, every facial expression, the smallest reaction.
He stays a long moment teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, feeling how wet you are, and the anticipation of having him, so big and hard, inside you makes your aching pussy clench around nothing.
When Yunho finally sinks into you, it’s unhurried. A stretch that pulls the air from your lungs and all you can let out is a strangled cry.
He pauses, forehead resting against yours, breath ragged.
“You okay?” he asks, voice rough.
You can only nod, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, adjusting to his size.
Yunho starts moving, hips rolling in a steady, powerful rhythm that makes your vision blur. His hands grip your hips, holding you exactly where he wants you. His name spills from your lips like a mantra, and you see him smiling like he finally achieved something he really wanted.
He shifts slightly, changes the angle, and pleasure explodes through you. You cry out, nails digging into his back as the tension builds until it’s on the edge of being overwhelming.
He holds your wrists and pins them above your head, lowering his head to nibble your neck.
“Let go,” he murmurs against your ear. “I’ve got you.”
And you do.
The orgasm crashes over you, blinding, shattering, leaving you trembling beneath him. He follows moments later with a cry of your name, his body shuddering as he finds his release.
He collapses onto you, face tucked into your neck, and your breaths start slowly syncing.
He presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.
Then he rolls onto his side, pulling you with him, your head resting on his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear.
He reaches for his glasses on the nightstand and puts them back on. When he looks down at you, a gentle, genuine smile softens his face. He’s both versions of himself at once: the quiet, sexy nerd and the man who just wrecked you.
“Hi,” he says softly.
You laugh, breathless and happy.
“Hi, Yunho.”
Yunho kisses your forehead, arms tightening around you, and then your lips, a deep kiss that slowly starts turning into something hotter.
He pulls back, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face, as if he can read your mind:
“Round two?”