Stronger (Jongin x Reader - Boy) - EXO EX'ACT SERIES
Stronger
ATTENTION, PLEASE READ: This is a fictional story. Any similarities to real people are unintentional. This story contains mature themes. By reading this story you agree that you are 18 years or older. The author does not authorize the reproduction, reposting, editing or any alteration of this material, fully or partially.
The mysterious guy doesn’t discriminate books: you’ve seen a wide variety of genres on his hands since you first noticed him. It was impressive actually. And how fast could he read!
He never took his mask off, but he is very amiable to you whenever he approaches you to ask about a certain book he was looking for, or while paying when you were working the register. Last week he asked about one book that you coincidentally had just finished. “That’s a great one, man… chapter ten blew my mind!” you said as you handled it to him. You saw his cheeks moving and he you could tell he was smiling under that mask. “I’ll look forward to it” he said before plopping on his favorite spot.
Hours later while scanning the book you asked what he thought about chapter ten. “I didn’t get there yet” he said and an awkward silence fell, making the air suddenly stuffy. You simply smiled, eager to end the embarrassment as fast as you could. You completed the transaction and handled him the book back. He stood there for a few seconds, blinking, and in the exact moment when you wanted to find a hole and bury yourself in it, he spoke. “But I’ll tell you next week” he said, finally reaching for the object, his free hand fixing his cap as he made a quick exit.
You didn’t know why, but your stomach was filled with excitement, something you haven’t felt for a while. Your chest stiffened when you thought about your next encounter. And it didn’t have nothing to do with your binder.
The next week dragged itself and finally Thursday came. That day you spent an extra 10 minutes in front of your mirror just fixing your hair, trying to achieve the perfect fixed-but-messy style. By lunchtime you had to hide in the employees bathroom for a while, just to calm your beating heart. You checked your binder a dozen of times. One hand in a fist was beating repeatedly over your chest at the same time your brain was scolding you for going head-over-heels just for a guy that you didn’t even know.
Three o’clock. He’d get there any minute. Five minutes passed. Okay, cool. Ten. Why is time passing so slowly? Fifteen. He was just late, it happens. Twenty minutes. Twenty five. Well, maybe something came up. Thirty minutes and you had to find a task to busy yourself with so you could stop counting the seconds. You started unboxing and cataloging some best sellers that arrived today. He could be late, it happens. The fact that he was on time for the past six weeks meant nothing, you guessed.
Forty five minutes. This was ludicrous, you had to stop thinking about it! You weren’t on a date or anything. You decided it was time for a stretch break, after all they’re essential when wearing a binder like yours. Especially because of all those heavy boxes you lifted. You did your breathing exercises, correcting your posture, and checking if everything was in safely in place. And then you repeated it just to be sure, your hand flying to your piercing every five seconds, playing with the cold metal as you filled and emptied your lungs.
One hour. This was obviously your fault, you came too strong on him. He probably ran away. One hour and ten minutes. Well, you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? You just talked to him. Maybe he was a transphobic piece of shit and thought you were hitting on him or something. One hour and fifteen. Except that maybe… you did have a crush on him and he probably sensed it. Maybe he even had someone already! Shit. Good thing that there were more new arrivals that you originally thought, so you immersed yourself in your work.
Two hours. You sighed, disappointed but not surprised, unconsciously playing with your cartilage ring like you always did when you were nervous. Your shift would end in thirty and you just wanted to get home to your small apartment, take a shower, watch some Netflix and pretend this day never happened.
Five minutes for the shop to close and for you to be free, someone entered. Your heart skipped a beat when you instinctively looked at the door, but there was just a woman in her mid forties, hurrying in. “We’re closing in a few moments, ma’am” you explained, turning to to the watch on your pulse and checking the time.
“I’m late, I just have to find a last minute present. I’ll be quick!” she said with a frown and an arrogant air, and you had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes back to your skull. Last minute shoppers, exactly what every retail worker loved. She went as fast as a lightning to the back of the store and you mumbled to yourself, wringing your hands: “Looks like no one is on time today”.
You failed to see the person who came in just after her, so you had quite a scare when a familiar voice spoke near you: “I know, I’m sorry.”
“Holy shit, man!” you blurted in surprise. “Don’t sneak up on me, I was ready to punch you” you said, recognizing the same dark clothes and cap. But this time he wasn’t wearing a mask, and so for the first time you looked at his face.
And what a face.
He had sharp edges that could put the sculptures in museums to shame, pouty plump lips (that you immediately wondered how they tasted) and a strong nose. Everything harmoniously matching his deep dark meaningful eyes with little cute puffs underneath. All put together in what you could only describe as the most stunning skin tone you’ve ever seen.
“Young lady, please, I’m in a hurry!” you blinked out of your stupor by the annoying voice of the last minute customer, anger boiling inside you. She looked at you presumptuously, shoving a couple of children’s books in your hands. “And you shouldn’t curse, it’s not ladylike” she said as she rummaged in her purse for her wallet and you tried very hard not to tell her to fuck herself right then and there.
Instead, you took a deep breath and went behind the register, trying to avoid the bean-bag guy’s pitiful gaze. “Sure ma’am”, you said between your teeth, “I’ll do it right away, but please note that I’m a guy”.
“What? That’s nonsense, you clearly are a female, look at you! All scrawny and short!” she burst out, waving her credit card on her hand. You forced a smile, but inside you wanted to punch her in the boob. Not that you’d actually do it. But one can’t control their feelings, only their actions.
“No, common mistake, but no, I’m not a girl…” you finished scanning the books. “It will be 20,000 won.” You looked at her with a let’s-end-this-topic-now expression, but she thought she were entitled to an opinion on a stranger’s life and gender, because she opened her mouth to talk again, not giving you the credit card.
“You know what”, bean-bag guy cut her, opening his wallet quickly and throwing two 10,000 won bills on the counter. “It’s on me, and I think he clearly said he is not a girl, so that’s it, have a great night, ma’am” he added, giving her the books. She started complaining that she didn’t even get them wrapped for present, but he pointed to the clock on the wall behind you. “I’m sorry, but I think they’re closed” he said and you agreed.
She made a face and mumbled to herself complaining about customer service and talking to the manager in a posterior occasion, but eventually, she left. You still felt like a cauldron of emotions had spilled inside you. Indignation (how dare she?!), surprise (you were caught off guard), annoyance (because it already happened before), embarrassment (it isn’t a pleasant situation and on top of it it was in front of bean-bag guy!) and worst them all, that crippling dysphoria.
Suddenly your whole self didn’t make sense, your chest was heavy but at the same time the binder wasn’t tight enough, and you felt trapped. It was overwhelming and you closed your eyes, your hands squeezing themselves in an attempt of your body to focus on something and not drift in the crescent self-conscious doubts. All the flaws you saw in yourself seemed heightened: you weren’t masculine enough, your body didn’t have the perfect weight and height for a guy, you had a face too round, your voice was weird, you…
“Are you alright?” he asked, concerned, removing his cap and sliding his fingers through his hair. Smooth, silky dark brown hair, you noticed. You realized his hair was still damp in some places. “Yeah, its bound to happen at times” you said, coming from behind the counter and standing before him. Your feelings didn’t go away, but having something else to talk about helped for the moment. “But thank you. People should be more like you and speak up when they witness bigotry” you said, eyes on your feet and hands playing with your septum ring again.
After some instants of painful silence that felt like hours, he spoke up. “So… chapter ten was a surprise, right?” he casually changed the topic and you were grateful. You smiled and looked at him. “Yeah, if you want we can discuss the book. Just lemme close up the shop. I’m Y/N by the way” you said with your heart filled with gratitude and warmth. “And I’m Jongin. Kim Jongin” he smiled.
Your lips curved in a smile remembering what that night meant to both of you: the beginning of everything. It led to a friendship. Then a first date in an ice cream parlor nearby. The butterflies in your stomach that follow. It led to your first kiss. Ah, this was an excellent story by itself!
You were sitting on his favorite bean-bag one afternoon, waiting for him to arrive. It was the day before Christmas and your boss allowed you to close the shop earlier. It had been raining and your shift had ended, plus you had just texted Jongin that you left the back door open for him.
You gazed upon the droplets running down the glass, lost in your own thoughts, when you felt someone approaching. Before you could even respond properly, you saw Jongin bending down and sweetly locking his lips on yours. Soft and they tasted like the cherries he was munching on his way there.
It was an unforgettable holiday. He gave you the red crystal you still wear to this day, tucked beneath your clothes and that originated your nickname: Crystal. Back then, he said he had been reading a book about crystals and their healing power, so he thought that a red one would bring you strength and energy.
Back then Jongin was just a trainee, working hard for his proper debut which only happened in 2012. You thought about everything you’ve been through in all these years, and you realized that what you had was more important than your own insecurities and dislike for the situation. So you dried your cheek, swallowed your pride and walked away from the living room, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. Meanwhile the well-dressed reporter on the television announced:
“… and so, SM Entertainment confirmed the dating rumors between the idols Kai and Krystal that had been fuelling the press recently. More about their secret love story when we get back from commercials.”
2016 was fucking terrible. Worldwide people agree that this particular year sucked. You were no exception, but you had strong reasons to hate 2k16. It was the year your celebrity boyfriend had to fake a relationship with someone else.
You loved Jongin beyond words could describe and you had been together since 2011, when you casually met at the bookstore. You were working there as a part timer and he was a regular, a trainee in search of a moment of peace; that’s why he’s always immerse in the pages and looking for new books.
Now you were the manager of that store and he was an international star.
For years you kept your relationship a secret from the world, and, despite being somewhat self conscious about it, you understood this was for your own good. Jealous fans could be extremely dangerous towards straight idols, imagine what could happen with an LGBT+ idol. Someone could get hurt and he could lose everything he had built over the years.
As the time went by, he got busier and busier, and it was harder and harder for you to meet. There were no more regularity in his visits, and your heart sat small in your thorax every Thursday afternoon.
He was your strength, and you were his. You were together through your respective problems, victories, tears and milestones. The public would never know how much you meant to each other. Every time you failed or had fallen into despair he was there to hold your hand. Every time he doubted himself and felt like giving up, you helped him back on track. “Everything is gonna be fine” he would murmur into your ear as you embraced, especially after long periods of time apart.
Only a few people knew about you, including his family and the other members of EXO. They were a joyful distinct bunch, and they loved to tease, but they were very welcoming. Also, they always knew Jongin wasn’t straight from the beginning. You were just a bit biased about their significant others. For starters they called themselves the “EXO’s Girlfriends Club”. So, yeah. But you didn’t dislike them, you just didn’t think you belonged.
You had been together for four years when shit hit the fan that year. And the surprises never stopped coming.
It was not your fault that your nickname was Crystal. Jongin gave you the red crystal necklace: the color of passion, will and love. It became your code name, because if someone overheard you talking, they wouldn’t know your real name. It was a standard safety measure that all guys in EXO used with their significant others, but, thinking about it now, you two didn’t quite thought it through. Because of your nickname in the end, things got out of control.
It definitely wasn’t Kai’s fault that a nosy reporter secretly taped him saying on the phone “I love you too, Crystal” and thought he meant Krystal, the girl idol from f(x), thus starting the Kaistal rumors. Things got so out of hand that SM had to intervene and “confirm” the rumors. It’s nothing new that companies manufacture celebrities relationships, so your boyfriend had to pretend, for at least a year, to date a girl idol. Krystal and Kai were close friends, but nothing more. They were uncomfortable with it, but what could they do? The stakes were too high and the reporter was threatening to leak the footage. He didn’t, instead SM gave him false pictures of a “sneaky encounter” between the so-called-lovers.
Even though Jongin had only eyes for you, you couldn’t help to feel resented sometimes. The situation made you anxious. In the back of your mind, those bad thoughts lurked, insisting to push doubt inside your brain… however you managed to keep going. Your feelings for him were true, so you did your best to ignore that evil voice inside your head. Especially when the brown press released another sensationalist piece.
You found help, comfort, and acceptance in a place you’d never thought you would: in the EXO girlfriends. Summer and Angel were your biggest supporters, because they have been dating Yixing and Chanyeol for a long time, just like you and Jongin. But they all stood by you, and slowly you started to let them in. By the end of 2016 you were all best friends. So it was with unanimity that the name of your club was changed: EXO’s Significant Others Club. Or EXO SOC for short. Yeah, countless socks jokes.
However, every time Kaistal did something together your heart got a little heavier. Some days you just wanted to shout from your window that you were the real Crystal that Jongin was dating. That he was in love not with a girl, but with you, Crystal, a guy. And because of his busy schedule and his company keeping him under their leash, you could count on your fingers the times you spent together after that fucking rumor spread.
So, 2016 sucked. Big time. At least you made some friends.
“What are you doing here…?” you asked, voice raspy and eyes blinking. “I missed my boyfriend…” Jongin said, hugging you from behind and nuzzing his nose on the crook of your neck. It was ticklish, but the world seemed in slow motion, so you simply smiled. “And I miss mine, did you see him? He’s been gone since forever” you playfully asked, turning to face him. “That loser that lets you sleep alone? No, I didn’t see him…” Jongin teased, shaking his head lightly before pulling you in for a kiss.
Weeks of lingering and absence were printed on that kiss and soon he was above you, his body pinning yours down. Suddenly it was too hot under the covers. He started nibbling at your neck, tugging at your necklace with his teeth, his hands searching for the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing. Jongin pulled away a bit to help you out of it, when he noticed it wasn’t your own shirt you were wearing.
“Fuck, I love when you wear my clothes” he whispered, yanking it out of your body. He helped you out of your boxer shorts, his hands and mouth marking their territory on your skin. He tapped your legs, and you instantly knew what he was demanding; you spread your legs, licking your lips, bending your knees and granting him access. You let out a hoarse moan when his mouth kissed you between your legs, connecting his lips to your erogenous zone. Your hands reached for the open drawer next to you in nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube and one of the condoms you strategically placed there as your boyfriend pleased you with his skillful mouth.
Jongin hovered above you and your mouths clashed. You reached for his member, realizing he was already hard, you pumped him as he hissed. Soon he was turning you around and, grabbing the lube, he started prepping you. You couldn’t contain the sounds that left your throat as he slowly entered you, first one finger, nice and slow until you were stretched enough. “Give me a color, babe” he demanded and you quickly answered: “Green!” indicating him that you were ready for more. He kissed your back as he calmly introduced another finger generously coated with lube.
When you gave him another “green” for the final step, Jongin immediately rolled on a condom.
Fuck, it had been so long. As every inch of his dick disappeared inside your walls, you grabbed the sheets, the sensation of him inside you was indescribable. As always, he started slowly, letting you adjust, only speeding up when you gave him the correspondent color. But you had just said it and he was painfully slow. “Jongin, please…” you begged.
“Does my baby boy want more?” he teased, a hand gripping on your hip. “Yes!” you implored with an affected voice. He leaned against you, his penis reaching further inside your walls. “Then work for it, babe” he whispered, kneeling on the bed again and you knew what he was demanding of you.
He stood perfectly still, hands guiding your hips while you bounced on his dick, crying out with pleasure every time your ass rebounded on him. You were a mess, panting and bewailing as he chuckled. “Yeah, just like that, handsome…” he encouraged.
Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he slapped your ass to slow you down and he spread your ass cheeks wide. “What a good boy… You so fucking deserve this” he said with voice embedded in lust as he started pounding at you with all he had.
The sounds of his hips smashing your skin were music to your ears and you loved that Jongin didn’t hold back his grunts and moans. Occasionally he praised you or slapped your ass, encouraging you. Shit, it was maddening.
He never stopped his thrusts, fucking you fast and hard and making you see stars. He knew all the signs your body could offer, so he knew you were close. Your chest was pressed against the mattress when your boyfriend leaned against your body yet again. “What are you waiting for?” he teased, his balls rhythmically colliding against you as he hammered inside your puckered hole. “Come for me, Y/N. Come with my cock buried deep inside your tight little ass” he said and it didn’t take you much more for your body to comply to his wishes.
Your orgasm spread throughout your body and your hands curled into fists, pulling the sheets with you as the energy inside you imploded, taking you by storm. Not an inch of your being was spared: with Jongin, your orgasms tended to always be overpowering, draining both your mind and body.
Jongin wasn’t far behind, so in no time his thrusts were erratic, and he grunted loudly before spilling his seed inside you, its contents bounded by the condom. Jongin’s heart was still thumping frantically as he pulled out of you. You were still trying to process what happened after that powerful orgasm, to be honest, so your boyfriend disposed of the condom and went to get a cloth to help you to clean yourself.
After it, you were both laying down, almost dozing of, locked in each other’s arms. “Crystal…” he cooed, a hand now cupping your face. You looked at him with half hooded eyes and a silly smile in your lips. “I love you” he said, kissing your forehead. “I love you too” you said, your body heavy and tired. “They’re going to announce the breakup tomorrow” he said, fingers entangling on yours. You looked at him, waking up a bit. “Really?” you asked and he nodded, eyes fixed on your locked hands.
“What is the problem?” you asked him, already aware of the fact that something was bothering him. “I’m just… worried” he said. “Why?” you asked again, kissing his cheek in incentive for him to speak up. “You’ve always been with me, Crystal. Holding my hand, watching me from the sidelines, doing so much more than I could ever repay you for. You’ve endured much more shit than me. And I worry about you, I worry about who they’ll pair me up next and how it will affect us” he confessed. “I mean, it didn’t help your self esteem that they said I was dating a girl” he scoffed.
You knew he wasn’t done, so you just let him talk. “Look at all my friends, they all have to hide their relationships. But one day they’ll be able to marry or date publicly. I don’t see when the public will welcome with open arms a pansexual idol married to a gay trans guy!” he sighed.
You supported yourself on your elbow, looking deep into his eyes and you spoke. “I want very much to live in a world where that happens and people are actually happy for us. A world without guys like Trump, preferably” you added and he laughed. “Look, Jongin, to me, you’re still the bean-bag guy that I fell in love with. Everything else… everything is gonna be fine, as long as we are together” you told him and he hugged you tightly. You pecked on his lips. Soon his warmth and gentle heart beating soothed you, luring you to a peaceful sleep.
Before you blacked out you touched your red crystal. You were very fond of it, but you knew that it wasn’t it that gave you strength and motivated you. It was your boyfriend, gently snoring beside you. You were stronger because of him.
2011
There is always this guy. Every week he comes in, always wearing a black mask and a cap, and sits on that specific bean bag in the children’s section near the window and reads for a couple of hours. Every Thursday since you started working part-time in this small bookstore, six weeks ago. Around 3pm he arrives, picks a new book, sits down, proceeds to read it and then stays there until around 5pm. Then he stands up, pays for the book (always paperback) and goes away with a new purchase. Every week, same hour. Like a clock.The mysterious guy doesn’t discriminate books: you’ve seen a wide variety of genres on his hands since you first noticed him. It was impressive actually. And how fast could he read!
He never took his mask off, but he is very amiable to you whenever he approaches you to ask about a certain book he was looking for, or while paying when you were working the register. Last week he asked about one book that you coincidentally had just finished. “That’s a great one, man… chapter ten blew my mind!” you said as you handled it to him. You saw his cheeks moving and he you could tell he was smiling under that mask. “I’ll look forward to it” he said before plopping on his favorite spot.
Hours later while scanning the book you asked what he thought about chapter ten. “I didn’t get there yet” he said and an awkward silence fell, making the air suddenly stuffy. You simply smiled, eager to end the embarrassment as fast as you could. You completed the transaction and handled him the book back. He stood there for a few seconds, blinking, and in the exact moment when you wanted to find a hole and bury yourself in it, he spoke. “But I’ll tell you next week” he said, finally reaching for the object, his free hand fixing his cap as he made a quick exit.
You didn’t know why, but your stomach was filled with excitement, something you haven’t felt for a while. Your chest stiffened when you thought about your next encounter. And it didn’t have nothing to do with your binder.
The next week dragged itself and finally Thursday came. That day you spent an extra 10 minutes in front of your mirror just fixing your hair, trying to achieve the perfect fixed-but-messy style. By lunchtime you had to hide in the employees bathroom for a while, just to calm your beating heart. You checked your binder a dozen of times. One hand in a fist was beating repeatedly over your chest at the same time your brain was scolding you for going head-over-heels just for a guy that you didn’t even know.
Three o’clock. He’d get there any minute. Five minutes passed. Okay, cool. Ten. Why is time passing so slowly? Fifteen. He was just late, it happens. Twenty minutes. Twenty five. Well, maybe something came up. Thirty minutes and you had to find a task to busy yourself with so you could stop counting the seconds. You started unboxing and cataloging some best sellers that arrived today. He could be late, it happens. The fact that he was on time for the past six weeks meant nothing, you guessed.
Forty five minutes. This was ludicrous, you had to stop thinking about it! You weren’t on a date or anything. You decided it was time for a stretch break, after all they’re essential when wearing a binder like yours. Especially because of all those heavy boxes you lifted. You did your breathing exercises, correcting your posture, and checking if everything was in safely in place. And then you repeated it just to be sure, your hand flying to your piercing every five seconds, playing with the cold metal as you filled and emptied your lungs.
One hour. This was obviously your fault, you came too strong on him. He probably ran away. One hour and ten minutes. Well, you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? You just talked to him. Maybe he was a transphobic piece of shit and thought you were hitting on him or something. One hour and fifteen. Except that maybe… you did have a crush on him and he probably sensed it. Maybe he even had someone already! Shit. Good thing that there were more new arrivals that you originally thought, so you immersed yourself in your work.
Two hours. You sighed, disappointed but not surprised, unconsciously playing with your cartilage ring like you always did when you were nervous. Your shift would end in thirty and you just wanted to get home to your small apartment, take a shower, watch some Netflix and pretend this day never happened.
Five minutes for the shop to close and for you to be free, someone entered. Your heart skipped a beat when you instinctively looked at the door, but there was just a woman in her mid forties, hurrying in. “We’re closing in a few moments, ma’am” you explained, turning to to the watch on your pulse and checking the time.
“I’m late, I just have to find a last minute present. I’ll be quick!” she said with a frown and an arrogant air, and you had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes back to your skull. Last minute shoppers, exactly what every retail worker loved. She went as fast as a lightning to the back of the store and you mumbled to yourself, wringing your hands: “Looks like no one is on time today”.
You failed to see the person who came in just after her, so you had quite a scare when a familiar voice spoke near you: “I know, I’m sorry.”
“Holy shit, man!” you blurted in surprise. “Don’t sneak up on me, I was ready to punch you” you said, recognizing the same dark clothes and cap. But this time he wasn’t wearing a mask, and so for the first time you looked at his face.
And what a face.
He had sharp edges that could put the sculptures in museums to shame, pouty plump lips (that you immediately wondered how they tasted) and a strong nose. Everything harmoniously matching his deep dark meaningful eyes with little cute puffs underneath. All put together in what you could only describe as the most stunning skin tone you’ve ever seen.
“Young lady, please, I’m in a hurry!” you blinked out of your stupor by the annoying voice of the last minute customer, anger boiling inside you. She looked at you presumptuously, shoving a couple of children’s books in your hands. “And you shouldn’t curse, it’s not ladylike” she said as she rummaged in her purse for her wallet and you tried very hard not to tell her to fuck herself right then and there.
Instead, you took a deep breath and went behind the register, trying to avoid the bean-bag guy’s pitiful gaze. “Sure ma’am”, you said between your teeth, “I’ll do it right away, but please note that I’m a guy”.
“What? That’s nonsense, you clearly are a female, look at you! All scrawny and short!” she burst out, waving her credit card on her hand. You forced a smile, but inside you wanted to punch her in the boob. Not that you’d actually do it. But one can’t control their feelings, only their actions.
“No, common mistake, but no, I’m not a girl…” you finished scanning the books. “It will be 20,000 won.” You looked at her with a let’s-end-this-topic-now expression, but she thought she were entitled to an opinion on a stranger’s life and gender, because she opened her mouth to talk again, not giving you the credit card.
“You know what”, bean-bag guy cut her, opening his wallet quickly and throwing two 10,000 won bills on the counter. “It’s on me, and I think he clearly said he is not a girl, so that’s it, have a great night, ma’am” he added, giving her the books. She started complaining that she didn’t even get them wrapped for present, but he pointed to the clock on the wall behind you. “I’m sorry, but I think they’re closed” he said and you agreed.
She made a face and mumbled to herself complaining about customer service and talking to the manager in a posterior occasion, but eventually, she left. You still felt like a cauldron of emotions had spilled inside you. Indignation (how dare she?!), surprise (you were caught off guard), annoyance (because it already happened before), embarrassment (it isn’t a pleasant situation and on top of it it was in front of bean-bag guy!) and worst them all, that crippling dysphoria.
Suddenly your whole self didn’t make sense, your chest was heavy but at the same time the binder wasn’t tight enough, and you felt trapped. It was overwhelming and you closed your eyes, your hands squeezing themselves in an attempt of your body to focus on something and not drift in the crescent self-conscious doubts. All the flaws you saw in yourself seemed heightened: you weren’t masculine enough, your body didn’t have the perfect weight and height for a guy, you had a face too round, your voice was weird, you…
“Are you alright?” he asked, concerned, removing his cap and sliding his fingers through his hair. Smooth, silky dark brown hair, you noticed. You realized his hair was still damp in some places. “Yeah, its bound to happen at times” you said, coming from behind the counter and standing before him. Your feelings didn’t go away, but having something else to talk about helped for the moment. “But thank you. People should be more like you and speak up when they witness bigotry” you said, eyes on your feet and hands playing with your septum ring again.
After some instants of painful silence that felt like hours, he spoke up. “So… chapter ten was a surprise, right?” he casually changed the topic and you were grateful. You smiled and looked at him. “Yeah, if you want we can discuss the book. Just lemme close up the shop. I’m Y/N by the way” you said with your heart filled with gratitude and warmth. “And I’m Jongin. Kim Jongin” he smiled.
2016
You remembered fondly the night Jongin came in your defense at the bookshop, five years ago. Turns out he was late because he had a surprise evaluation at SM, usually he had that window for self study, so he sneaked out for a couple of hours weekly. That particular Thursday he left as soon as he could, taking a quick shower and not even drying his hair properly, worrying you might be gone already.Your lips curved in a smile remembering what that night meant to both of you: the beginning of everything. It led to a friendship. Then a first date in an ice cream parlor nearby. The butterflies in your stomach that follow. It led to your first kiss. Ah, this was an excellent story by itself!
You were sitting on his favorite bean-bag one afternoon, waiting for him to arrive. It was the day before Christmas and your boss allowed you to close the shop earlier. It had been raining and your shift had ended, plus you had just texted Jongin that you left the back door open for him.
You gazed upon the droplets running down the glass, lost in your own thoughts, when you felt someone approaching. Before you could even respond properly, you saw Jongin bending down and sweetly locking his lips on yours. Soft and they tasted like the cherries he was munching on his way there.
It was an unforgettable holiday. He gave you the red crystal you still wear to this day, tucked beneath your clothes and that originated your nickname: Crystal. Back then, he said he had been reading a book about crystals and their healing power, so he thought that a red one would bring you strength and energy.
Back then Jongin was just a trainee, working hard for his proper debut which only happened in 2012. You thought about everything you’ve been through in all these years, and you realized that what you had was more important than your own insecurities and dislike for the situation. So you dried your cheek, swallowed your pride and walked away from the living room, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. Meanwhile the well-dressed reporter on the television announced:
“… and so, SM Entertainment confirmed the dating rumors between the idols Kai and Krystal that had been fuelling the press recently. More about their secret love story when we get back from commercials.”
2016 was fucking terrible. Worldwide people agree that this particular year sucked. You were no exception, but you had strong reasons to hate 2k16. It was the year your celebrity boyfriend had to fake a relationship with someone else.
You loved Jongin beyond words could describe and you had been together since 2011, when you casually met at the bookstore. You were working there as a part timer and he was a regular, a trainee in search of a moment of peace; that’s why he’s always immerse in the pages and looking for new books.
Now you were the manager of that store and he was an international star.
For years you kept your relationship a secret from the world, and, despite being somewhat self conscious about it, you understood this was for your own good. Jealous fans could be extremely dangerous towards straight idols, imagine what could happen with an LGBT+ idol. Someone could get hurt and he could lose everything he had built over the years.
As the time went by, he got busier and busier, and it was harder and harder for you to meet. There were no more regularity in his visits, and your heart sat small in your thorax every Thursday afternoon.
He was your strength, and you were his. You were together through your respective problems, victories, tears and milestones. The public would never know how much you meant to each other. Every time you failed or had fallen into despair he was there to hold your hand. Every time he doubted himself and felt like giving up, you helped him back on track. “Everything is gonna be fine” he would murmur into your ear as you embraced, especially after long periods of time apart.
Only a few people knew about you, including his family and the other members of EXO. They were a joyful distinct bunch, and they loved to tease, but they were very welcoming. Also, they always knew Jongin wasn’t straight from the beginning. You were just a bit biased about their significant others. For starters they called themselves the “EXO’s Girlfriends Club”. So, yeah. But you didn’t dislike them, you just didn’t think you belonged.
You had been together for four years when shit hit the fan that year. And the surprises never stopped coming.
It was not your fault that your nickname was Crystal. Jongin gave you the red crystal necklace: the color of passion, will and love. It became your code name, because if someone overheard you talking, they wouldn’t know your real name. It was a standard safety measure that all guys in EXO used with their significant others, but, thinking about it now, you two didn’t quite thought it through. Because of your nickname in the end, things got out of control.
It definitely wasn’t Kai’s fault that a nosy reporter secretly taped him saying on the phone “I love you too, Crystal” and thought he meant Krystal, the girl idol from f(x), thus starting the Kaistal rumors. Things got so out of hand that SM had to intervene and “confirm” the rumors. It’s nothing new that companies manufacture celebrities relationships, so your boyfriend had to pretend, for at least a year, to date a girl idol. Krystal and Kai were close friends, but nothing more. They were uncomfortable with it, but what could they do? The stakes were too high and the reporter was threatening to leak the footage. He didn’t, instead SM gave him false pictures of a “sneaky encounter” between the so-called-lovers.
Even though Jongin had only eyes for you, you couldn’t help to feel resented sometimes. The situation made you anxious. In the back of your mind, those bad thoughts lurked, insisting to push doubt inside your brain… however you managed to keep going. Your feelings for him were true, so you did your best to ignore that evil voice inside your head. Especially when the brown press released another sensationalist piece.
You found help, comfort, and acceptance in a place you’d never thought you would: in the EXO girlfriends. Summer and Angel were your biggest supporters, because they have been dating Yixing and Chanyeol for a long time, just like you and Jongin. But they all stood by you, and slowly you started to let them in. By the end of 2016 you were all best friends. So it was with unanimity that the name of your club was changed: EXO’s Significant Others Club. Or EXO SOC for short. Yeah, countless socks jokes.
However, every time Kaistal did something together your heart got a little heavier. Some days you just wanted to shout from your window that you were the real Crystal that Jongin was dating. That he was in love not with a girl, but with you, Crystal, a guy. And because of his busy schedule and his company keeping him under their leash, you could count on your fingers the times you spent together after that fucking rumor spread.
So, 2016 sucked. Big time. At least you made some friends.
2017
The sound of the door of your bedroom opening woke you up. Lately the concerts and preparation for the new comeback were taking all Jongin’s time, so it was a nice surprise when he showed up at your place one night. You heard a ruffle of clothes being removed, but you were still half-asleep. You turned your head at the same time that he snuck in under your duvet, wearing only his boxers. Outside, the world melted in the heat of the summer. However, your room felt like Antarctica due to the air conditioner.“What are you doing here…?” you asked, voice raspy and eyes blinking. “I missed my boyfriend…” Jongin said, hugging you from behind and nuzzing his nose on the crook of your neck. It was ticklish, but the world seemed in slow motion, so you simply smiled. “And I miss mine, did you see him? He’s been gone since forever” you playfully asked, turning to face him. “That loser that lets you sleep alone? No, I didn’t see him…” Jongin teased, shaking his head lightly before pulling you in for a kiss.
Weeks of lingering and absence were printed on that kiss and soon he was above you, his body pinning yours down. Suddenly it was too hot under the covers. He started nibbling at your neck, tugging at your necklace with his teeth, his hands searching for the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing. Jongin pulled away a bit to help you out of it, when he noticed it wasn’t your own shirt you were wearing.
“Fuck, I love when you wear my clothes” he whispered, yanking it out of your body. He helped you out of your boxer shorts, his hands and mouth marking their territory on your skin. He tapped your legs, and you instantly knew what he was demanding; you spread your legs, licking your lips, bending your knees and granting him access. You let out a hoarse moan when his mouth kissed you between your legs, connecting his lips to your erogenous zone. Your hands reached for the open drawer next to you in nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube and one of the condoms you strategically placed there as your boyfriend pleased you with his skillful mouth.
Jongin hovered above you and your mouths clashed. You reached for his member, realizing he was already hard, you pumped him as he hissed. Soon he was turning you around and, grabbing the lube, he started prepping you. You couldn’t contain the sounds that left your throat as he slowly entered you, first one finger, nice and slow until you were stretched enough. “Give me a color, babe” he demanded and you quickly answered: “Green!” indicating him that you were ready for more. He kissed your back as he calmly introduced another finger generously coated with lube.
When you gave him another “green” for the final step, Jongin immediately rolled on a condom.
Fuck, it had been so long. As every inch of his dick disappeared inside your walls, you grabbed the sheets, the sensation of him inside you was indescribable. As always, he started slowly, letting you adjust, only speeding up when you gave him the correspondent color. But you had just said it and he was painfully slow. “Jongin, please…” you begged.
“Does my baby boy want more?” he teased, a hand gripping on your hip. “Yes!” you implored with an affected voice. He leaned against you, his penis reaching further inside your walls. “Then work for it, babe” he whispered, kneeling on the bed again and you knew what he was demanding of you.
He stood perfectly still, hands guiding your hips while you bounced on his dick, crying out with pleasure every time your ass rebounded on him. You were a mess, panting and bewailing as he chuckled. “Yeah, just like that, handsome…” he encouraged.
Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he slapped your ass to slow you down and he spread your ass cheeks wide. “What a good boy… You so fucking deserve this” he said with voice embedded in lust as he started pounding at you with all he had.
The sounds of his hips smashing your skin were music to your ears and you loved that Jongin didn’t hold back his grunts and moans. Occasionally he praised you or slapped your ass, encouraging you. Shit, it was maddening.
He never stopped his thrusts, fucking you fast and hard and making you see stars. He knew all the signs your body could offer, so he knew you were close. Your chest was pressed against the mattress when your boyfriend leaned against your body yet again. “What are you waiting for?” he teased, his balls rhythmically colliding against you as he hammered inside your puckered hole. “Come for me, Y/N. Come with my cock buried deep inside your tight little ass” he said and it didn’t take you much more for your body to comply to his wishes.
Your orgasm spread throughout your body and your hands curled into fists, pulling the sheets with you as the energy inside you imploded, taking you by storm. Not an inch of your being was spared: with Jongin, your orgasms tended to always be overpowering, draining both your mind and body.
Jongin wasn’t far behind, so in no time his thrusts were erratic, and he grunted loudly before spilling his seed inside you, its contents bounded by the condom. Jongin’s heart was still thumping frantically as he pulled out of you. You were still trying to process what happened after that powerful orgasm, to be honest, so your boyfriend disposed of the condom and went to get a cloth to help you to clean yourself.
After it, you were both laying down, almost dozing of, locked in each other’s arms. “Crystal…” he cooed, a hand now cupping your face. You looked at him with half hooded eyes and a silly smile in your lips. “I love you” he said, kissing your forehead. “I love you too” you said, your body heavy and tired. “They’re going to announce the breakup tomorrow” he said, fingers entangling on yours. You looked at him, waking up a bit. “Really?” you asked and he nodded, eyes fixed on your locked hands.
“What is the problem?” you asked him, already aware of the fact that something was bothering him. “I’m just… worried” he said. “Why?” you asked again, kissing his cheek in incentive for him to speak up. “You’ve always been with me, Crystal. Holding my hand, watching me from the sidelines, doing so much more than I could ever repay you for. You’ve endured much more shit than me. And I worry about you, I worry about who they’ll pair me up next and how it will affect us” he confessed. “I mean, it didn’t help your self esteem that they said I was dating a girl” he scoffed.
You knew he wasn’t done, so you just let him talk. “Look at all my friends, they all have to hide their relationships. But one day they’ll be able to marry or date publicly. I don’t see when the public will welcome with open arms a pansexual idol married to a gay trans guy!” he sighed.
You supported yourself on your elbow, looking deep into his eyes and you spoke. “I want very much to live in a world where that happens and people are actually happy for us. A world without guys like Trump, preferably” you added and he laughed. “Look, Jongin, to me, you’re still the bean-bag guy that I fell in love with. Everything else… everything is gonna be fine, as long as we are together” you told him and he hugged you tightly. You pecked on his lips. Soon his warmth and gentle heart beating soothed you, luring you to a peaceful sleep.
Before you blacked out you touched your red crystal. You were very fond of it, but you knew that it wasn’t it that gave you strength and motivated you. It was your boyfriend, gently snoring beside you. You were stronger because of him.
