A Backstage Love I Han Jisung x Reader

Jeogiyo noona hoksi namjachingu isseoyo?

My breath caught, and I hated the way his words made my pulse race. He was standing too close now, close enough that I could see the flecks of honey in his eyes and the slight curve of his lips as he waited for me to say something—anything.

But I couldn't.

The tension in the room was unbearable, like a taut wire ready to snap. My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

"You're impossible," I muttered, finally looking away.

"You're the one making this complicated," he shot back, his tone teasing but laced with something deeper.

I glared up at him, ready to retort, but the words died in my throat when his hand brushed my arm—a barely-there touch that sent sparks skittering across my skin.

"You should go back to bed," he said, his voice lower now, almost a whisper.

"Maybe I will," I said, my chin lifting defiantly even as my voice wavered.

But neither of us moved.

It was Han who finally broke the stalemate, leaning down slightly, his face so close that I could feel the heat of his breath. My stomach flipped, and before I could second-guess it, I closed the gap, standing on my toes to kiss him.

The moment our lips met, it was like every ounce of restraint we'd been clinging to disappeared. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer as the kiss deepened, and I let myself fall into it, all the tension and frustration spilling over into this single, electrifying moment.

When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathless.

"That was—" I started, but he cut me off with a smirk.

"Long overdue," he said, his voice rough but playful.

I shoved his chest lightly, trying to hide my own smile. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late," he replied, his grin widening.

As I turned to head back to my room, my cheeks burning, his voice stopped me again.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he called, his tone warm and teasing all at once.

I glanced back, my heart still racing. "Goodnight, Han."

It was all fine, until it wasn't. I stopped myself mid-step and continued to face the doorway to my room, the silence between us stretching uncomfortably. "Han?" I paused, then turned back to face him, my pulse suddenly thundering in my ears. I wasn't sure what I expected—maybe for him to look at me like I had just said something absurd, or for him to refuse, offering a polite excuse that didn't hurt too much.

"Would you like to stay in my room with me tonight?" The words hung in the air like a question I hadn't quite meant to ask, but there they were, tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Han was still standing there, watching me. His eyes, dark and unreadable, followed every movement I made, and for a long beat, he didn't say anything. His lips parted as if he was about to respond but then closed again. The weight of the moment seemed to press down on both of us.

I could feel the heat in my cheeks, a mix of vulnerability and something else—a rush of anticipation that made my stomach flutter uncomfortably. Had I just pushed things too far?

Finally, Han shifted, his gaze flicking to the floor as if he was contemplating something important. He ran a hand through his hair, the tension in his body palpable. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped himself. His brows furrowed slightly before he took a deep breath, and when his eyes met mine again, the intensity in them made it hard to breathe.

"Y/N," he started, his voice quieter now, more serious. "Are you sure?" There was a carefulness in his tone that suggested he understood exactly what that invitation meant, and it wasn't just a casual offer.

I stood there, heart pounding, and suddenly, I wasn't so sure anymore. The line between professional and personal felt like it was blurring too quickly. But even as my doubts crept in, I couldn't deny the magnetic pull between us—the weight of everything unsaid and the way my mind kept circling back to that kiss.

I swallowed hard, taking a step toward him. "I think I am." The words came out with more confidence than I actually felt, but there was no going back now. I wasn't about to let my own uncertainty get in the way of what I needed in that moment. I needed something—someone—close.

Han looked at me for a long moment, like he was weighing the options, but his expression softened, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips. "Okay."

That was all it took. He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "I'll stay."

He moved past me, stepping into my room with an ease that made my heart skip a beat. The air between us felt charged, but not in the way it had earlier. This time, it felt like we had crossed a threshold we couldn't come back from—no matter how carefully we treaded.

Once we were in the room, I felt the change in atmosphere immediately. The air was thick with unspoken words, every little sound magnified—the way the door clicked shut behind us, the rustle of the sheets as I moved to make space on the bed. Han didn't sit immediately. Instead, he stood by the window for a moment, his back to me, staring out into the city lights, the flicker of distant street lamps casting shadows across his face.

I was hyper-aware of him now, the quiet space between us almost unbearable. I wasn't sure what to say. Was this really happening? Had I made a mistake? Should I pull back?

Before I could talk myself out of it, he turned to face me again, a small but genuine smile on his lips. "You sure about this, Y/N?" His voice was soft, gentle—a question, but not one laced with doubt. It was just... open.

I nodded, but I didn't trust myself to say anything else. I was afraid that if I spoke, the moment would shatter. The energy between us felt fragile, like we were both standing on the edge of something we weren't sure we were ready for.

Han, ever the careful one, stepped closer, his presence once again consuming the space. This time, though, it was different. He wasn't just protecting me. There was something deeper in his eyes now—a softness that matched the tension between us.

It wasn't until Han sat on the bed, patting the space beside him, that I felt the weight of his decision settle in. The bed was large enough for both of us, but the intimacy of the space felt overwhelming.

"Come here," he said softly, his voice lower than it had been all night, the playful teasing from before absent. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes that I couldn't ignore.