du vin en hiver pt. II

yunho x female reader
rating: m.
genre: new series! smut with a trope twist you all will love!
w.c.: 1.4k
warnings: none for this chapter :)
summary: y/n moves in with her best friend’s older brother Yunho and can’t help but falling for him.
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It was the first, genuinely good night sleep you had gotten in years but you were startled awake by the violent trill of your iPhone alarm, you know the sound. And fucking shit, you had work. Throwing on your uniform and popping a stick of gum in your mouth, you searched through dresser drawers looking for your nicotine patches. These small squares of precious magic that were now a necessity having moved into Yunho’s non-smoking building. 

They’re in the bathroom you thought. 

Grabbing your bag and scurrying down the hall, one shoe half on, belt missing loops, you reached for the bathroom door knob only for it to rebut your advances. A faint light seeped through a crack at the floor, a fine mist rising; someone was in the shower. 

You pounded aggressively on the door, “Jane,” your voice was muffled as you struggled to fasten your watch with your teeth. “I need my nicotine patches! I have to go to work!” The pipes creaked as the water was shut off. You heard the glass door open and the lock to the door turn. Yet, it was Yunho, not Jane, who stood soaking wet in the doorway. 

Blush shot to your cheeks. “Um, I’m just looking for my nicotine patches. I thought maybe I had left them in here.” Your eyes were super glued to the point where the living room flooring met the bathroom tile. 

His eyes were groggy and his plush lips puffy.  “Oh, yeah,” he moved to the side. “Go ahead.” You gave him a meek smile and walked past, into the humid bathroom. 

You rummaged through a few drawers but to no avail. Defeated, you walked past him again. 

As he was closing the door, he stopped and spoke: “y/n.”

You turned around. 

“You look very pretty today,” and he shut the bathroom door. 

Just kind of standing there, you didn’t know how to react. But you couldn’t help a smile from tugging at your lips. 

At work and classes, you couldn’t stop thinking about him: your best friend’s brother. How golden he looked that morning. The way water dripped from his ebony curls. The curve of his cupid’s bow. Fuck, you wanted to kiss those lips. 

A euphoric feeling, untying your shoes and peeling off your socks to feel your feet against the entryway’s carpet. 

“Hello?” Jane’s voice called.

“Hey,” you shoved off your coat and followed your nose to the smell of food in the kitchen. “What did you get?” you asked as Jane placed three plates on the counter.

“I don’t know.” She opened the boxes of food. “Some sort of tomato-ed pasta. Idk Yunho got it, don’t ask me.”

You unwrapped your scarf. “Jeez okay. I’ll be right back, just let me change and wash up.” 

Footsteps advanced. “It’s ravioli, Jane, not rocket science.” You turned to see Yunho standing there: flannel pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt that was just a tad too tight. unconsciously, you soaked up the definition of his arms and chest under the kitchen fluorescents. When you noticed yourself staring, you had to really, intentionally pull your gaze away from him and command your feet to move toward your room. “Sounds good,” you spoke unnaturally. 

Closing the bedroom door behind you, you heard a voice call after you. “Y/n, do you want water or Cola, or,” the bottles in the fridge door rattled as Jane opened it. “We have half a bottle of wine and I think this is orange juice?” 

Your dirtied work uniform was tossed hurriedly on the floor and across your rug. You pulled on a pair of pink lounging sweats and a crew neck with your university’s mascot printed on the front and mystery stain on the right boob. “Water is fine.” You shouted back, pulling the bobby pins out of your hair and scrubbing a makeup wipe over your face. Guiding your feet into your slippers, you opened the bedroom door and walked into the kitchen. 

Yunho and Jane were sitting in the living room on the couch, watching something on the TV. “Your plate is on the counter,” Jane motioned behind her with her fork to the prepared plate of Ravioli and sides. 

“Thanks,” you grabbed the food and went to join them on the couch. 

Sitting in between your two roommates, you crossed your legs, criss-cross-applesauce, to balance the plate on your lap. “What are we watching?” You raised the fork to your mouth. 

“It’s Friends, dumbass,” Jane laughed. 

You took a second look at the TV, recognizing the familiar sitcom. “Oh, yeah,” you agreed.

“Would you rather watch something else?” Yunho reached for the remote. 

You reached out to stop him, placing your hand on his. He stilled. “No, I like Friends.” 

If you had focused, you could’ve felt his pulse beat rapidly at your touch and if you had faced him, you would’ve seen the strawberry-blush grow across the apples of his cheeks. She’s just happy to watch a show with her best friend Yunho though, pulling his hand back to his lap. 

The evening continued like this: the munching of ravioli and your laughs accompanied by the canned ones of the 90’s sitcom. As it got later, Jane leaned into you and pulled a blanket across your legs, her eyelids growing heavy. 

Yawwwwnnnnn, Jane stretched her arms above her head and announced: “I’m going to bed.” 

“Okay,” you extended your plate to her. “Can you put this in the sink pretty please?” You gave her a sweet, eye-crinkling smile. 

“Fine,” she stood and took the plate, motioning for Yunho to hand her his too.

He did, thanking her. “We can watch something else,” Yunho suggested after Jane had gone to bed. 

“Really,” you sank deeper into the warm embrace of the couch. “I’m okay with this.” 

“Okay,” he was oddly silent, you noted. You wondered if he had had a difficult day at work but decided not to pry by asking. Come to think of it, you pondered deeper on the subject, you didn’t really know what he did.

“Yunho,” your voice carried to his ears and he hummed in response. “What kind of work do you do?”

You could hear a smile in his voice. “Data projection for a funds management firm,”

You blinked at him, his words not computing in your little brain. “Ah, and that would mean of course, in layman’s terms if you would?” 

He chuckled. “I look at numbers and then decide if the company will make enough money for what it’s spending.” 

“Yunho, I’m sorry, but that sounds terrible.”

He stretched his arms out in front of himself, cracking his fingers and stretching the muscles of his forearms. “It’s not too bad.” 

You turned to see him smiling at you and it was just one of those moments where you both decided to fuck it and kiss the other person. 

He leaned into your face, his arms supporting himself but careful not to touch you. Your heart pounded furiously in your ears as you closed your eyes and leaned to meet his lips. He exhaled from his nose, his hot breath meeting your cheeks, and every muscle in your body tensed. 

Tentatively, you reached a hand forward and touched his thigh. His hand met your waist in response. 

And then, suddenly, you were making out on the couch. 

Your tongues fought for dominance, his ultimately winning, brushing against your bottom teeth. His hand ran the length of your body and you gripped his thigh. The kiss became harder until he was falling back and you were on top of him. You straddle one of his elevated thighs and tucked your finger under his shirt, kneading the dense muscles of his sides. 

His hands were on your ass, not moving, but resting against the soft fabric of your pants. Your hips threatened to move against him and you could feel him growing against your stomach. And suddenly the situation didn’t feel right. 

Despite the overwhelming softness of his lips, you could taste that half a bottle of wine on his tongue and your heart sank a little. Was he just kissing you cause he was drunk? You pushed gently on his chest and he released your lips. Gazing down into his sparkling eyes, you forced yourself from the couch. “I don’t think we should be doing this.” You turned and ran to your room.

The door slamming behind you, you sank to the floor in the soft glow of the city lights. Your chest heaved as you unwrapped the reality of your situation. Your best friend’s brother, your roommate, had drunk-kissed you on the couch. You heard footsteps approach and then veer as Yunho went into his bedroom. But his taste was still in your mouth, spread over your tongue. God, he tasted so good.