Chapter Text
There weren’t many people Kitty just didn’t get along with.
She was as extroverted as it got—always eager to meet fresh and interesting faces, and she could keep a conversation flowing with pretty much everyone she came into contact with. She didn’t have a hard time making friends. While her friend group had significantly decreased over the years—as she graduated high school and moved to a different state—she knew the ones in her inner circle were there for the long run. They were unique and interesting people, and for some reason, they just got Kitty. Everybody—except a certain Korean nepo baby, Min Ho Moon.
The funny thing was, Min Ho didn’t seem to have trouble getting along with anyone else. He was Dae’s childhood best friend and his and Q’s current roommate, and despite the occasional bickering over who ate the last sugar-free chocolate chip cookie and whatnot, they seemed to get on well.
It was only Kitty he couldn’t stand. Whenever those two were in close proximity, it always ended in disaster. Their bickering tended to get so heated that they did their best to avoid each other and tolerate the other’s company only when absolutely necessary—like in their shared photography club or, right now.
Neither of them could afford to miss the party and risk hurting Dae’s feelings. Quite frankly, Kitty would never let another person dictate whether she attended a party or not. Hopefully, Min Ho had his grown-up pants on and planned to leave Kitty in peace for the night. Kitty tried her best not to even glance in his direction and barely acknowledged him as she planted a soft kiss on Q’s cheek and gratefully accepted the tequila shot Jin handed her afterward.
“Hey, chaos queen,” Q greeted her cheerfully, raising his shot to his lips. He motioned for Kitty to join him and his boyfriend on the couch, and the three of them shared an almost empty tequila bottle. “Took your sweet time! I was afraid I was going to get tipsy before you arrived.”
“The birthday boy isn’t even here yet; I’m not late at all,” Kitty replied with a smirk.
Jin eyed his partner with the same disappointment a parent usually regarded a misbehaving child but there was a slight curve tugging at his lips. He winked at Kitty as their gazes met. “We’ll go clubbing later. Please make sure I don’t have to carry both of you home.”
“I doubt I can keep up with you either way,” she said, downing her shot and fighting off a grimace at the taste. “I don’t want to be too hammered anyway. I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do over the weekend.”
Q raised an eyebrow at her. “Like finally submitting your photo for the contest? I heard Min Ho already submitted his weeks ago.”
Kitty didn’t want to be reminded of how late she actually was. The deadline for the submission was in just three weeks, and she was yet to take a photo actually worthy of sending to the contest. She hated to say this, but she was sure that if she half-assed this one, Min Ho would wipe the floor with her—and she’d never hear the end of it. That stuck-up, snobby asshole had an already way too inflated ego, and Kitty would have loved nothing more than to shut him up.
The problem was, however, that she lacked any kind of inspiration that could fit the theme. Inspiration wasn’t coming to her as it normally did; she felt a bit suffocated by it all. “Yeah—uhm, actually, I still don’t have an idea.”
“What’s the theme?” Jin chided in.
“What can’t be said.”
Jin raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. “That’s pretty vague. You need something more than a riddle to work with, Kitty.”
Q leaned forward, curious. “‘What can’t be said’? Sounds mysterious and also pretty open-ended.”
Kitty shrugged, biting her lip. “Something intangible, things left unsaid. I just… don’t know how to capture that yet.”
“You have a good eye for it,” Jin encouraged her. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
The conversation quickly changed course when a fourth person joined their trio, seating himself on the other side of the couple. Kitty thanked the Lord that the couch was enormous, he didn’t have to sit too close, because just the sight of Min Ho already raised her blood pressure.
She threw him a quick glance, noting his outfit. Kitty wouldn’t admit it out loud, but sometimes she found herself appreciating his style. The bright red shirt—definitely designer—made his dark eyes stand out even more. His hair fell just right over his forehead, messy but deliberate. He looked ready for a night out—sharp and put together in a way that was almost frustrating.
Kitty took a slow breath, fighting the urge to glance at her reflection in the TV screen. She bit her lower lip, thankful when Q shifted the conversation away from the contest—landing on safer ground like the angel he was.
He passed each of their faces, a mischievous glint lighting up his eyes. “Do you think we should find someone for Dae tonight? We could be his wingmen.”
Jin shook his head disapprovingly. “I don’t think Dae would want that. He’s still not over his last relationship.”
“But they say in order to get over someone—”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea either,” Min Ho agreed, his voice alone commanding their attention. “And for your information, rebound relationships almost never work out.”
“Yes, but I’m kind of tired of him moping about Eunice when he could be meeting new people.” Even though Q clearly had good intentions, Kitty knew Dae. She knew how sensitive and loyal he was. Their breakup had happened only two months ago; there was no way Dae was in shape to date again, and he’d never been a one-night-stand kind of guy. She and Dae used to date back in the day, so she knew exactly how attached he got.
“I think it’s for the better if he takes a break and properly moves on,” she insisted, and Min Ho nodded in agreement.
Q pouted, turning to Kitty for support. “Aren’t you the notorious matchmaker, Kitty?”
“Yes, and I’m quite successful, thank you very much.” She downed the next shot, this time without a scowl. “But even I can’t do much if the case is temporarily hopeless.”
Min Ho did a terrible job hiding his snort. “Is that why you’re also single, Covey?”
“For your information, I chose to be single,” she retorted, shooting him her best death glare. “But yeah, I agree. If he does meet someone, it should be organically. He’s not a one-night-stand guy and I don’t see him finding a long-lasting relationship at a nightclub.”
A moment passed; everyone was a bit taken aback by Min Ho and Kitty agreeing on something for a change. Kitty would’ve been surprised too if she didn’t anticipate a comeback. “At least he has a chance of finding someone there, Covey. Unlike him, you reek of an incoming disaster.”
Kitty didn’t try to hide her grimace. “Says the playboy who can’t keep a woman for longer than one night because he’s insufferable.”
Q and Jin went still, their heads swiveling between Kitty and Min Ho as if watching a fast-paced ping-pong game. The bickering was intense—like a boxing match with words instead of fists.
“Oh, if you’re jealous of them, you just have to say so. Who knows, in a moment of desperation, I might actually take pity on you.”
“ Me ? Jealous? I’m only jealous of old me who didn’t know you,” she spat, pointing at him with an index finger. “I don’t want a relationship at the moment because. You know, some people actually have to work for their scholarships—not everyone’s father buys them into the school.”
“Well, excuse you, I got in myself,” he replied calmly, seemingly unfazed, which in turn made Kitty angrier. “I don’t need to prove anything, especially not to you, Covey.”
“Sure, buddy, that’s why you pick a fight with me every chance you get. I might ‘reek of a disaster,’ but at least, unlike you, I don’t reek of insecurity.”
Min Ho let out a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “Well—”
This was Q’s cue to step in before the whole party imploded.
“Enough!” he said, raising both hands like a referee. “This isn’t the time or the place for your weird little flirting ritual.”
“We aren’t—” Kitty started.
“I’d rather die,” Min Ho finished flatly, crossing his arms.
Q sighed, muttering something about tequila not being strong enough for this nonsense.
Jin rested a hand on his shoulder, clearly trying not to smile. “Let them burn it out. We’ll be here to collect the ashes.”
Kitty scoffed, snatching the bottle of tequila off the table. “I’m getting a new bottle. From the kitchen. Far away from this .”
Min Ho watched her go but didn’t follow. He just shook his head and looked away, jaw clenched—but said nothing.
💋💞
By the time Dae showed up, Kitty was already reasonably tipsy. Her laughter came easier, and her cheeks carried a warm flush. The music pulsed softly in the background as the door swung open and the birthday boy finally arrived, greeted by a chorus of cheers.
Jin immediately stood, raising his shot glass. “There he is! Happy birthday, Dae!”
Q followed, clinking his glass against Jin’s. “To the best roommate and friend.”
Dae smiled, a little overwhelmed but clearly happy. He made his way toward the couch where Kitty, Q, and Jin were seated. Kitty caught his eye and gave a playful wave, her earlier worries momentarily forgotten.
“Hey, birthday boy,” she said, her words a little slurred but sincere. She pulled him into a firm hug. “Took you long enough.”
Dae laughed, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, but Yuri insisted we have brunch together because she isn’t coming tonight.”
Kitty let out a soft laugh. “You don’t say no to Yuri.”
“The second rule of Fight Club.”
“I’ve actually never seen Fight Club,” Kitty admitted.
Min Ho, who had been silent since their earlier exchange, gasped audibly, feigning shock. “I’m always shocked at how uncultured you are, Covey.”
Kitty shot him a tight but genuine smile. “Says the guy who bailed on Harry Potter after the fourth movie.”
Q looked scandalized. “You didn’t see the rest? You don’t even know how it ends?”
Min Ho shrugged. “It’s not that I’m opposed, just haven’t had the time.”
“Let me guess,” Q teased, “looking this good takes up most of your time.”
“You forgot dating models and being possibly the best student at NYU,” Min Ho added with a smirk.
“Oh yeah, how could I forget? My humble king.” Q laughed, his voice rich with mirth. He leaned back, shaking his head in mock disbelief, his eyes twinkling with amusement. The corners of his mouth curled upward, and a genuine warmth filled the room as his laughter resonated, drawing smiles from those around him.
Kitty turned to Dae with a mischievous grin, snatching up the birthday crown she’d bought for him. “Correction. Tonight, you are the king.”
“Long live the king,” Min Ho chimed in. “Just don’t let it get to your head. First round is on you, by the way.”
Q arched an eyebrow at him. “Let’s pretend you’re not the only one who actually has substantial money to their name. After this party I will be living off instant ramen noodles for at least a month.”
“If I must feed you for the entire month, then I will—but you do not , under any circumstances, bring that abomination into my home.”
“What’s so wrong about instant noodles?” Dae asked.
“He insists it smells bad,” Q said, shaking his head. “And it’s bad for my health. If you ask me, he just doesn’t get the struggle.”
“It does smell bad,” their roommate insisted, furrowed eyebrows wrinkling his forehead. “My body is a temple. How you take care of yours is your issue, but I have my boundaries.”
“So, I could technically bring a thousand willing virgins to our home, but you draw the line at ramen?” Jin’s glare made him add “In theory, of course.”
“You let Covey into our place every now and then. Honestly, I don’t think I can stoop any lower.”
“I actually bless your home with my presence whenever I’m nearby!” Kitty shot back, imitating his accent. “Admit it!”
“You heard the lady, Min,” Dae joined in. “Admit it!”
She stifled a giggle behind her hand. She caught Min Ho's usual stoic mask slip for a second, replaced by a genuine smile that actually lit up his face. Maybe it was the tequila talking, or maybe she was just noticing it now, but for a moment, she saw him in a whole new light. Despite being a grade-A jerk, Min Ho Moon was actually pretty damn good-looking.
Oh, yes, it was definitely the alcohol.
💋💞
By the time the fifth round of shots hit the table, Kitty was pretty sure her boots had fused with the dance floor and her laughter had become permanent. The lights above spun in wild colors—violet, electric blue, gold—and the bass rattled in her chest like a second heartbeat.
Dae’s birthday crown was gone, last seen on a bartender’s head, and Q was deep into a dance battle with someone in rhinestone-covered pants. Jin was holding a drink in each hand, mostly to prevent anyone from forcing him into the crowd. Kitty leaned against the bar, breathless and flushed, her hair sticking to the back of her neck. She felt liquid and reckless, in the way that only came from good music and too much alcohol and a city that never seemed to sleep.
Min Ho slid in beside her, handing her a glowing cocktail that smelled like money and bad decisions. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him but took the drink anyway.
If she had to endure his presence, she figured a few extra drinks wouldn’t just help—they’d be mandatory.
She took a sip and immediately winced. “Ugh, tastes like cranberry and vodka—like a lot of vodka.”
He leaned in like it was nothing—like his mouth brushing against her hair didn’t send a jolt down her spine. “You’re welcome,” he said, voice soft but edged with that infuriating smirk she didn’t even have to see to feel.
Kitty would have rolled her eyes if she wasn’t so distracted by the way his cologne overpowered every other scent in her nose. It drew her in like a moth to a flame, the warmness beneath her stomach coiling tighter with each breath she took. She hated how easily he got under her skin—how his presence unsettled something she couldn't quite name.
Kitty tried not to look—but of course, she failed. Her gaze dipped, almost involuntarily, to the mess of gold chains catching the light at his collarbone and the deliberately careless way his shirt hung half-buttoned, revealing just enough skin to be annoying. Infuriating. Distracting. She blamed the alcohol, the heat, the pulsing neon haze of the club—anything but the fact that her eyes kept drifting there, again and again, like her brain hadn’t gotten the memo to stop feeding the fire.
She swore he could smell weakness, and in that moment, with the buzz in her veins and her walls down, she wasn’t sure she was hiding it well.
She downed half her drink in one go, desperate to cling to some form of distraction, but she made the mistake of eventually meeting his eyes. He didn’t even try to hide the way his gaze fixated on the way she sucked on the straw, and Kitty had to muster serious willpower not to choke on the cocktail.
This guy—who normally couldn’t stand her—was ogling her with the same repressed attraction she was trying to pretend didn’t exist.
She hoped that if she resisted him, they could just go back to how it was—passive aggression, bickering and, most importantly, her not wishing he would just bang her like a hurricane against the back door.
The problem was, resisting him didn’t prove to be easy.
Q didn’t even look at her when she tried to catch his attention, and Dae was too busy trading shots with a group of strangers who may or may not have just invited him to a rooftop afterparty. Jin? Nowhere to be found.
And Min Ho… Min Ho was still there. Still sitting too close. Still watching her like she was a challenge he couldn’t wait to lose to.
“Is it always this hard for you to have fun,” he asked, his voice curling at the edges, “or is it just when I’m around?”
She scoffed. “Trust me, I was having plenty of fun before you started lurking.”
“Lurking?” He raised an eyebrow. “Wow. You wound me.”
“You’ll survive,” she said, but her voice came out softer than she meant it to. She wasn’t even sure he heard it.
Min Ho took a long sip of his own drink, the glass tilted lazily in his hand. A single drop escaped the rim, trailing down the corner of his mouth before sliding past his jaw and onto his neck. Kitty watched—couldn’t not watch—as it traveled slowly, deliberately, down the line of his throat. It clung for a moment to the hollow at the base, then continued lower, disappearing beneath the open collar of his shirt and into the heat of his chest.
She swallowed.
Hard.
It was more than enough to make her mind spiral—to let her imagine where that drop ended. Her mouth went dry, which was ridiculous because she still had half a drink in her hand, and yet none of it seemed remotely satisfying anymore.
Min Ho didn’t miss it. Of course he didn’t. His eyes flicked toward her with that infuriating knowing glint, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a slow, wicked smirk.
“Something wrong?” he asked, voice smooth, teasing.
Kitty snapped her gaze up, cheeks flushed, jaw tight. “You’re messy,” she muttered, lifting her glass to cover the way her lips wanted to curl despite herself.
He leaned in just enough for her to smell the liquor on his breath—spiced, sharp, and far too tempting. “You noticed.”
And then he took another sip.
Slower this time.
Deliberate.
Daring.
The bastard.
She felt heat crawl up her neck.
Nope.
She turned away sharply, setting her drink on the table a little harder than necessary. “I’m going to dance,” she muttered, mostly to herself.
He didn’t stop her. Didn’t even say anything, he just let her walk away.
The music pulled her in fast—bass-heavy and dark, the kind of rhythm that moved through her bones before her brain could catch up. The crowd closed around her in a blur of color and sound, giving her the space she needed to lose herself.
That was the idea, anyway.
She raised her arms, let the beat take control, swayed her hips with the ease of muscle memory. Her body moved instinctively—smooth, controlled, grounded in something deeper than thought. She wasn’t dancing for anyone. She was dancing to forget. To breathe. To stop feeling the ghost of his stare still burning at the back of her neck.
Except it didn’t go away.
She opened her eyes without meaning to, heart knocking a little harder against her ribs, and turned slightly—just enough to glance toward their private booth.
He was still there.
Exactly where she’d left him, leaning one elbow on the table, his shirt open and rumpled, collarbones catching the blue light. His drink hung loose in one hand, glass fogged from the warmth of his palm. And his eyes—sharp, unblinking—were fixed on her.
Not in the way other guys watched girls dance.
No.
Min Ho watched like he was waiting for her to break.
And when their eyes met—locked, like a silent challenge passed across a crowded room—he didn’t smirk. Didn’t nod. Just slowly raised his glass to her, like a silent toast.
Like he knew exactly what she was doing.
And who it was for.
Kitty’s stomach flipped.
She exhaled hard, turning her back to him again, trying to focus on the rhythm, on her feet, on anything but the knot tightening under her ribs. But even then, with the lights spinning and the crowd pressing in, she couldn’t shake the weight of his gaze.
So, she danced.
Not to escape, not anymore.
Now she danced because she knew he was watching.
And she wanted him to keep watching.
Her hips moved on their own, loose and slow, riding the beat like it was hers to command. The guy who slid in beside her was a distraction—a tall, confident stranger with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He matched her rhythm, leaned in a little too close, hands brushing hers as he spun her around.
Kitty let him.
She caught Min Ho’s gaze from the edge of the floor—sharp, calculating, something dark flickering behind the surface. He didn’t look amused. More like... territorial .
Before she could decide if she wanted him to make a move or not, he stepped forward, cutting through the crowd with a predator’s grace. The stranger hesitated, eyes flicking between them.
Min Ho slid in next to her, the heat from his body stealing the air from the space around them. His hand skimmed her waist, firm but careful, grounding her. Kitty’s breath hitched at the contact—the slightest touch igniting a wildfire under her skin.
They moved together, bodies close but not quite touching, like two flames dancing just at the edge of merging. His fingers traced lazy patterns along her ribs, sending shivers down her spine. Her own hands found the curve of his neck, fingertips grazing the sharp line of his jaw.
The music wrapped around them, thick and pulsing, a private world where everything else fell away. Kitty felt the tension coil tighter with each breath. She wanted to turn around, to push him away, to say something potentially silly and to excuse herself, but her body betrayed her by arching a little to fill the space between their bodies. Her behind grinded against his crotch, liquid courage daring her to do more—basically daring her to do anything she knew she would eventually come to regret in the morning.
Then Min Ho’s lips brushed against her temple, a whisper of heat that made her knees weak.
“Stop playing,” he murmured, voice low and rough.
Her breath hitched at the sound, but she didn’t say a word. Instead, she tilted her head, the bare curve of her neck pressing closer to him—a silent dare.
Min Ho’s lips found that spot, soft and scorching all at once. She shivered, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer.
Her world seemed to dissolve into the pounding heat between her legs as his right hand slowly but surely made his way to the edge of her skirt, threatening to slip under it but unlike Kitty he still had some restrain left.
This version of Min Ho –the one that already drank enough not to care—felt so different. He felt so firm against her, his body shielding hers like a warm blanket and he was so, so, so damn hot .
They could have gotten caught by their friends and who knows what kind of drama it would have caused between them but at that moment Kitty didn’t have the willpower to break away. He held her in an invisible cage, her body betraying her by only reacting to what his wanted.
Only when the music changed did he let her go. Her disappointment at missing his body didn’t even have time to set before he spun her around to face him. His face—illuminated in red, blue, and yellow—was merely inches from hers, their noses awkwardly brushing, their breaths mingling. His eyes searched hers for answers, for permission, to warn her—they were dark, unfiltered, glinting with lust.
“Katherine,” he whispered, barely audible to her ears. “Don’t start anything you’re not willing to finish.”
Normally, him using her first name would have snapped her out of the moment, except this time it only fueled the fire. Her hands tangled in his hair, fierce and needy. “Who says I’m not willing to finish?”
She was pretty sure she heard Min Ho groan before he crashed his lips into hers, devouring her mouth like a man starving and still not getting enough. One of his hands landed on her waist, the other one settled on her neck, possessive, dominant and so damning hot . His tongue soon asked for entrance, which she granted without a second thought.
She had no idea when, but at some point, she noticed how tightly her hands were clenching his shirt, how her entire body melted into his touch, how vulnerable and yet entirely safe she felt. She wasn’t sure if it was the effects of alcohol spinning the room around or if he had just completely taken her breath away, but she surrendered completely to him, letting him guide the kiss. He was a fantastic kisser.
He pulled away all too soon. She instinctively went in for more, catching his lips one more time with a soft peck.
“Covey,” he sighed. The hand he had on her neck moved up under her chin; he brushed his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes following the motion. “Tell me to stop.”
Kitty’s voice came out raspier than she expected. “Don’t stop.”
“You—you wouldn’t want this if you were sober.”
“Don’t stop.”
She captured his thumb between her lips, sucking gently—enough to erase the hesitation from his face and replace it with stunned surprise.
“You’ll hate me in the morning.”
“Don’t stop.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“Oh, for the fuck’s sake, Min Ho,” she cried out, his hesitation fueling her frustration. What did he not understand? That she wanted him? That if he pressed all her right buttons he could even have her right there, in the middle of a freaking night club? “I want you to fuck me. Get me out of here and fuck me .”
At first, he seemed taken aback by her exclamation, as if he wasn’t completely sure he had heard her right. Then, the hesitation turned into a lopsided, cheeky grin that made her heart skip a beat. “Your wish is my command then.”