Ollie (K.YS)

Ollie (K.YS) (m)

You were six when you met Yeosang.
  It was the result of one fateful day in which your notorious kindergarten bully was being a particular pain in your ass, stealing the Gushers from your TinkerBell lunch box, and pulling out your perfect pigtails your mom had spent so long getting just right.
  Yeosang had shown up right as the bully was about to slap you, his coconut cut hair bouncing as he chased a ball he'd kicked near the two of you. When he saw her hand midair, he'd screamed in his high pitched voice,

  "I'm gonna tell the teacher on you!" 

  Your bully dropped her hand, ran back to the playground, and left your crying form in the dirt. Yeosang helped you to your feet, fixed your pony's to the best of his six year old ability, and stuck by your side for the rest of the day. When you'd asked him why he didn't just go away, he simply replied, "It's my duty to save you from bad guys now." You didn't question him further, and you even found yourself hanging out with him everyday after that, sharing your Gushers at lunch.

  By middle school, the two of you were inseparable. It was a sleepover nearly every night, one always at the other's house, staying up late into the early morning playing Mario Kart and Minecraft. He was there for you when you got your first period at his house, his kind mother providing you with feminine products, and he sat outside the bathroom door to make sure you were alright.

  In High school, he had stuck by your side even through all of your embarrassing phases, heartbreaks, the loss of your virginity to the douchebag quarterback. He was your date to every dance, every recital, to the prom. You'd accompany him to the skatepark when he'd picked up skating, and even when the other boys would make fun of him for bringing a girl to the skatepark, he'd always make sure you had enough snacks and magazines to keep you entertained.

  Now, sophomores in college, the two of you are closer than ever. You'd both applied to the same college, not being able to handle the thought of being separated. You still remember the day you were both accepted, it lived as the single most happy memory you have with the boy, excited High School grads eager to grow into adults together.

  Currently, however, he was studying in the library, and you were absolutely annoying the living shit out of him.

  "'Sangie." You whined, bouncing up and down in frustration. "You said we could go get ice cream tonight." Your fingers toyed with the strings on his hoodie, hoping to distract him from his lit homework enough that he'd take you to Baskin Robins like he had promised earlier that day.

  "We'll go in ten minutes." He murmured. Yeosang had grown into a fairly reserved individual, but it didn't matter to you, your energy overcompensated for the lack of his own, and you were a perfect yang to his yin.

  "You said that 10 minutes ago, stupid." Your voice is loud, too loud for a library and he scowls gently at the looks you're receiving from annoyed studying students.

  "Come with me! You can get back to your homework later. What if I...I don't know, fell down a really deep hole and you never saw me again because you let me go get ice cream alone? Then you'd never see me again and you'd simply die of a broken heart when this all simply could have been avoi-"

  Your sentence is cut off when he snaps the book he was studying shut, shoving it in his tote bag with a sigh. He stands, towering over you and you scoot back in surprise at the abrupt movement.

  "Alright, let's go." His voice is soft, relenting.

You grin, cheshire smile making it difficult for him to be annoyed at you. His body is then enveloped in your absolutely bone shattering hug, a squeal leaving your lips.

"Finally! I got wrinkles waiting for your ass." You huff, and he smiles softly.

The two of you walk hand in hand to the Baskin Robbins near campus, and by that he means you dragged him by the wrist excitedly while his long legs struggled to keep up with your bounding pace.

  "Jesus, slow down." He groans.

  "That's like asking me to stop breathing."

You throw the door open, absolutely scaring the mess out of the poor store worker behind the counter and Yeosang bows his head in an apology on your behalf. The parlour is vacant, thankfully, he didn't know if he could handle the mortification of that many people witnessing his best friend's hyperactiveness.

  "They not ready for me! I'ma tear this place up." You sigh, rubbing your palms together eerily like a fly, he thinks while gazing at the different flavours behind the glass.

  You excitedly ask the worker for three scoops, one cookies and creme, one birthday cake, and the other mocha. Yeosang worries for your health. After paying, with his card he might add, you guide him to a booth in the corner.

  "What...even is that combination? Looks like a disaster waiting to happen." He asks, gazing at your creation with a judgemental look, digging into his own dutch chocolate. Simple, delicious.

  You gasp in offence. "I resent that! This is art, 'Sang. You get a lil' flavour explosion in every bite. And an explosion in the bathroom later but that's a story for another time." He shakes his head in disappointment when you giggle at your own joke.

  The two of you eat in silence, save for your occasional hum of content when a bite of the soft cream is particularly delicious. There's gentle pop music pouring into the store through the sound system, and he watches you wiggle in your seat slightly to the beat with a warm feeling flooding his heart.

  "Can I stay at your apartment tonight? I feel like I haven't hung out with you in literally forevs." You sigh, and his brows furrow. He fights the urge to reach over the table and wipe away the stray cream on the corner of your lips.

  "Y/n...you literally stayed the night three days ago." He points out, voice calm compared to your natural whiny tone.

  "In dog years, I think that equates to...hold on, I'm bad at math...literally forever."
  Yeosang lets out an exasperated sigh, but he's fairing just as well as you. He'd never admit it out loud, but going longer than five minutes without your pestering had him not knowing what to do with himself. He craved your company, and it totally didn't have anything to do with the fact that he had the world's fattest, most gargantuan crush on you. Though he'd been trying not to admit that fact to himself, either. He digressed.

  "Fine. But bring those chocolate covered pretzels you brought last time." He relents, and you squeal, clapping your hands together excitedly.

  "Totally would, but you see, I perhaps maybe kinda ate them all, but we can just go to the store and get more. Oh! Also, can we watch Twilight? Pretty pretty please I will love you forever." You ramble, and if he's honest he doesn't keep up with it entirely, but the mentioning of Twilight has him shaking his head vehemently.

  "Absolutely not." You'd tried getting him to watch the classic many a time, but Yeosang would rather give up chicken than watch that shitshow of a series. But, he feels he could be convinced with the way your lips pout and eyes widen in a plea.

You whine. "Why noooot? It's super good and cheesy and we can make fun of how many times Jacob flexes his pecs." You offer, grinning at the way he cringes. "I counted, it's 34 by the way, and that's just in the first movie. It's like those things seriously have a mind of their own." You scoop the last remaining bits of your concoction from hell into your mouth, before standing to dump your trash in the bin near the door, collecting his own empty container on your way. He mumbles a thanks.

  "Fine. But can we do face masks at least? I want to get something out of this." He bargains. You scoff.

  "As if you had a choice in the first place. When have I ever not required you to put some goop on your face whenever we hang out?" At your words, he winces.

  "That did not sound good." He mutters, chuckling slightly when you pause, reflecting on your suggestive words.

  "No, it did not! But you get what I mean." A brazen chortle leaves your mouth. He stands, shoulder brushing yours when the two of you walk out of the store, but not after you call out a thanks, love your work! to the worker behind the counter. He wants to tell you that the workers don't actually make the ice cream themselves, but he also doesn't want to kill your spirit.
  You clasp your hand around his index finger, and the two of you stroll to Yeosangs place, the promise of Twilight and goopy skincare awaiting you.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

"How many times is she going to touch her hair?" Yeosang questions, annoyedly chomping on chocolate pretzels you'd had Uber Eats'd  during your movie date.

  You bellow out a laugh. "About as many times as Jacob jiggles his boobies."
  Yeosang shakes his head, placing a pretzel in your mouth after you ah in his direction, demanding one of the chocolatey snacks. "It's basically compulsive." He mutters.

  "What, the boobie flexing?" You ask curiously, mouth full of the chocolate treat.

  "The hair touching." He deadpans. Oh.

  "Well, I mean it is only the most famous franchise in the world following Harry Potter and Star Wars. I think. I didn't fact check that so don't quote me, but she gotta be doing something right I guess." You shrug, rambling distractedly as Carlisle comes onto screen.

  "Holy fuck bro is beautiful." You yell, startling Yeosang.

  "Your obsession with that man is concerning." He chuckles softly, watching the way you fan yourself at the sight of the blonde doctor.

  "Hey! I can't help the fact that Dilf Daddy Carlisle is so hot. It's scientific, 'Sangie, I don't make the rules."

"Dilf Da- I can't." He shakes his head fervently, disgusted by your works and you wheeze. He can't help but breathily chuckle at you, wondering how in god's name he ended up here. He'd helped the wrong pigtailed girl, he thinks.

  When he threads his fingers through your own, you smile warmly at him. While he wasn't much of a talkative, emotionally open person, he was touchy. He would often thread his fingers through yours, or link his arm in your own just to be near you. It warmed your heart.

  The movie continues, Yeosang's occasional criticism causing you to yell at him, and after an iconic baseball scene, a supernatural near death experience, and a cringey prom, the credits roll and he's sighing in content that the movie is finally over.

  "I think I need new friends."

"Yah! That's rude. No face mask for you, mister negativity." You pout. He sucks his teeth.

  "I let you over for one thing. Goop me."

The two of you meander to his darkly decorated bathroom, where you pop open the container holding the gloppy substance of a honey face mask. It smells saccharine, his favourite scent and you push his hair back with a cow printed fluffy hairband, horns and  floppy ears making him look downright ridiculous albeit adorable. You hop onto the counter, manoeuvring him so that he is standing between your knees.

  The mask is cool when it makes contact with his skin, his eyelashes flutter against his breathtaking cheekbones as he closes his eyes. He loves when you put the mask on for him, it makes him feel cared for. He's barefaced, your favourite version of Yeosang you'd decided, and his birthmark adjacent his left eye was visible. You coo and the sight.

  "So cute."

  You brush the goop a little too close to his eye, so your thumb moves to swipe it away, at the same moment his eyes open to meet your own. He stares silently, adam's apple bobbing at the close vicinity. Yeosang splays his large palms across your bare thighs comfortably, and you hum when you finish applying the white viscous substance.

  "All done." Your voice is sweet, nearly as sugary as the skincare item in your grasp.
  He doesn't pull away however, simply takes the container from your hands and squirts some onto the brush you used, swiping a fat blob onto your forehead.

  "Shit! Cold." You hiss, and he shushes you, spreading the glob to your cheeks and chin.
  Yeosang heaves an impatient breath when you reach up to scratch your chin through the mask he'd just meticulously applied, and he swats your hands away, scratching your itch with the brush instead. A few more swipes and your face was neatly coated in the mask.

  "Done." He whispers, patting your thigh softly to alert you that you could move freely.

  "Finally. Thanks 'Sangie. When I'm old and my skin looks like a baby's butt I'll be sure to thank you." You spoke, admiring his work in the mirror before hopping off the counter. You made your way back to the bedroom that was connected to his bathroom, flopping onto your stomach with an unceremoniously obnoxious oof and opened your phone to serve as a distraction while you waited for the mask to dry.

  Just a few moments later Yeosang follows you, after cleaning the mess you'd left behind of course, padding into the room before lying gently by your side, face turned to your phone to watch whatever it was that you were doing. This current moment, you were scrolling through your Instagram feed, liking the occasional meme that has you giggling, or the stray cute animal video.

  A large hand swipes at your hairline, pushing back a stray section of hair that had fallen into your  face after you'd decided to forego a hairband because apparently it flattened your hair. The palm is warm against your head, tingles spreading across your scalp at the contact.

  "Thank you." You hum, to which he nods simply.

"Should have worn one." He quips, referring to the headband on his head.

  "And kill my luscious volume? I'd rather die, thank you very much. Also, that's why you're here, my precious 'Sangie always to the rescue." You coo mockingly at him, and he shoves your shoulder gently.

You lock your phone when the feed becomes monotonous and roll over onto your back with a groan.

  "I'm sleepy." A yawn escapes you, as best as it can through the now dried mask you wore, anyway.

  "'Kay...let's rinse this off, then we can go to bed." He mutters, standing and pulling your wrist to urge you into a standing position as well, and you whine at the movement. He cursed your laziness sometimes, but you stood anyway, much to his relief, trudging over to the bathroom to begin washing the dried skincare off.

  When both of your faces are squeaky, he urges the lilac purple toothbrush he reserved for you into your palm, applying some toothpaste and you begin scrubbing your teeth. Between your silly expressions in the reflection and accidentally slobbering some toothpaste onto your shirt, he chokes on a laugh.

  "You laughin' at me punk?" You deepen your voice comically, and mockingly square up to him despite being quite a bit shorter than him. He nods.

  "Always."

You pout, spitting out the rest of the toothpaste and rinsing your mouth, to which he follows suit.

  "I'll have you know that hurts my feelings deeply and I may never recover from this fully."

  "So sorry."

  He cups your cheek, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the skinship not uncommon between the two of you, but your heart squeezes at his soft touch.

  Both of you move to the bedroom in a fatigued stupor, turning off the main light and snuggling up under the blankets that smelled so much like his addicting Calvin Klein cologne it had you nuzzling your face into them.

  "Mm, night night 'Sangie. Love you." You mutter, curling up into his side.

  "Night, y/n. I love you too..." He whispers back into the dark, quiet room. If only you could realize how true his words were.

Melodical breaths leave your lips in short puffs when you finally fall asleep, and you're curled into his arm comfortably. He finds it easy to slip into a slumber, you warm by his side.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

In all his many years of life on this planet, Yeosang had never once met someone as hopeless as you. He meant that in the most loving of ways, of course. You took the cake when it came to being a little loose in the dome, but he adored you for it nonetheless.

  It was a perfect day to go skating, so he'd asked you if you wanted to tag along and join him at the skatepark, and of course you'd accepted with that familiar hyperactiveness he'd grown to know and love. However, it turned into much more than he bargained for when you lost your footing amidst being distracted with opening a packet of Gushers, sliding right down the half pipe and smacking your elbow straight into the hard, blistering hot concrete. A pained, surprised yelp springs its way from your lips when the bone collides painfully with the hard, slightly jagged ground underneath you, and Yeosang whips his head around at the sound.

  It's nearly astonishing how fast he jumps down into the pit with you, immediately abandoning his skateboard to the side and cradling your injured arm. Thankfully, nothing seems broken except for the skin, blood beading at the surface rapidly, but tears stream down your face anyway.

  "Fuck, y/n, be careful! Are you okay?"

  "Holy shit balls that hurt so bad." You weep. "Fuck! My Gushers!" The treats in question are sprawled all across the ground, a sad and painful reminder of your clumsiness. A sad sight, indeed, and it has you sobbing out in agony.

  "Are you seriously crying over the Gushers when your arm is literally bleeding?" Yeosang huffs, pulling the bandana he usually used to tie his hair out of his face while skating out of his pocket, dabbing lightly at the blood on your sensitive elbow. You hiss in pain and he frowns.

  "That was my last pack..." A sniffle.

Yeosang gestures for you to hold the fabric against the injury with slight pressure, before rummaging through the small tote bag he brought along with him. It carried his water, phone, essentials, and, much to your surprise, a packet of Gushers. You squeal at the sight of the colourful foil packaging, and gently take the snack from his hands.

  "I keep an emergency stash for you in my bag." He mutters, and your heart throbs at the kindness that laces the soft words.

  "Thank you, 'Sangie."

  "Of course."

  He helps you to your feet, and hoists you in his arms so that you can pull yourself over the edge of the pipe. Yeosang cleans up the fallen soldiers, aka your spilled Gushers, and waves at you that he's going to skate now and to yell if you need anything.

  You take your snacks and walk your way over to the area you usually sit, a shaded grassy corner underneath a small tree directly next to the entrance of the skating area. The scrape on your elbow has stopped bleeding, so you fold the bandana and place it in your pocket. Tears dried into nothing but the occasional sniffle, you munched at the gelatinous treats. You left Yeosang to skate, the male doing tricks on the rails about fifty feet away, and you watched with admiration at his agility.

  The park is relatively empty today, save for just a few other individuals keeping to their respective areas, careful not to bump into the other skaters.

  A few minutes pass of you scrolling through your phone, having quickly grown bored of watching the skaters scattered around the park, before a shadow is casted upon you that has you looking up in confusion at the change in lighting. Standing in front of you is a boy with shaggy black hair, blonde highlights peppered throughout. His face is cute, seemingly perfect features, and he's wearing a small smile that's hard not to admire. A skateboard covered in scuffed stickers is tucked under his left arm, and his hip is popped while he gazes at you. The outfit he's wearing catches your attention, a pair of baggy ripped grey patchwork jeans and a large white hoodie, he looks like he just came out of a 90's punk music video. Got dayum he was kinda fine.

  "Hey...I saw you fall earlier. Just wanted to come over and see how your elbow was. I'm Beomgyu, by the way." He talks fast, a friendly tone challenging his intimidating appearance.

  You smile at his kind words, partly embarrassed he saw you bust your ass like that, but it was kind he'd come to see if you were okay.
"Oh, yeah! I'm fine. Just got distracted opening my Gushers. I'm y/n, nice to meet you." You sweetly reply, and he's surprised by how comfortable you are just striking a conversation with him. He'd half expected you to be weirded out, and he's kind of endeared by how cute you are now that he sees you're extremely friendly. And pretty.

  "Oh my god, I love gushers. My older brother Yeonjun always makes fun of me, calls me a kid because I nearly survive off those things." He chuckles, jutting a finger in the direction of a raven haired boy skating in the distance, and you giggle in response.

"So what? Kids have the best time and all they eat is candy all day. Sue us for not wanting to conform to the ways of bland adult taste buds." You retort, and he nods in agreement.
You offer him a blue one, to which he accepts graciously.

  "Thanks! Can I sit?" He gestures to the spot next to you and you nod rapidly, scooching your butt over slightly so he can flop down next to you.

  "So, are you here alone?" He questions.

"No, I'm actually here with the lanky blonde boy who just fell on his ass." You say, pointing in the direction of Yeosang's annoyed form sitting on his butt in the distance, having just tumbled from a failed trick.

  Beomgyu chuckles. "Ah, I see. He's been trying to land the dolphin flip for a while now. He's gotten real close from what I could tell." He bobs his head as he speaks and you find him absolutely adorable.

  "I have no idea what that is but I wish him well on his journey." You respond. The boy breathes out a laugh.

"Is he...your boyfriend?" He questions, hoping he doesn't sound too obvious. It's a good thing you are absolutely clueless.

  With a rapid shake of your head, you reply between guffaws, "No! Oh my god, no he's been my best friend since childhood."

  He tries to hide the smile on his face at your words, disguising it as general inquisition. The two of you talk between yourselves, ranging from your favourite treats and candies, to funny experiences at the skatepark you've had. You find he's a freshman at your university, and you positively light up at the news.

  The sun is beginning to set, golden hues flooding the park, and you find yourself looking over to where Yeosang is whooping to himself at having landed the flip he'd been trying to land for the past hour. Cutie.

  Beomgyu clears his throat, before perking up in question. "So, I've been meaning to ask. Um...would you like to go out with me sometime? I-it can be dinner or maybe a movie or something." He's shy, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I find you really cool and would like to hang with you more." He explains.

  You're in shock. Over the course of your life, you hadn't had many boys ask you out. With the protective presence of Yeosang being anywhere that you were at most given times, you were never approached. All the boys at your schools had always been too afraid. It never really bothered you much, your friendship with Yeosang compensated for any loneliness you might have felt with the lack of male attention growing up. But, every once in a while you found yourself craving something that wasn't so painfully platonic, a connection that held more to it. So, now, with the knowledge that the man sitting in front of you isn't intimidated by your friendship with Yeosang at first glance, your heart thumps against your rib cage. In nerves or excitement, you can't tell.

  "Oh! Um..."

When you don't respond right away, he begins floundering. "Nevermind! Sorry, forget I asked an-" he's cut off when you yell out.

  "No! No, I'll go out with you! I just wasn't expecting you to ask that is all!" You clarify, and he releases a relieved breath.

  "Oh...good." He sighs. "Could I have your number, then?" You've never pulled out your phone quicker in your life.

  After exchanging numbers and entering each other into the others' contacts, Beomgyu is called over by his older brother, Yeonjun, who tells him he's packing up to leave. Beomgyu apologetically says he has to follow Yeonjun, but that he'll text you, and you wave him a goodbye.

  Shortly after he takes his leave, a sweaty Yeosang trudges to where you're sitting, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

  "Who was that?" He mutters, gently sitting down next to you and leaning back to relax his sore, overexerted muscles. God that trick took a lot out of him.

  "His name was Beomgyu. Goes to our school. Asked me on a mother effing date." You gape, and Yeosang shoots forward into a sitting position, shrugging off the ache in his body when he does so. What the fuck?

  "He asked you out?" He questions, incredulous.

"Well don't say it like that! I'm not that ugly." You pout.

  No, no you weren't. Not in the slightest. Yeosang desperately tries to ignore how his guts seems to weigh down with rocks, a bitter taste left behind in his mouth. Fuck...he desperately couldn't shrug off the feeling of disappointment at the thought of you going out with someone else.