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Time Spent Alone

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Sometimes you think he can't possibly love you. No, not as deeply as you love him. Because sometimes during his long absences, he forgets to call. He doesn't answer your messages, doesn't comment on the selfies you hate to take but take to send him anyways. The goofy ones are the most embarrassing, but one once elicited a response. Now you frequently crack silly faces and snap a picture to share with him.

Lately, you are lucky if he sees it within 4 hours of you sending it.

You bottle your feelings up inside. Every unanswered call or text is a shake to your system. You try your best to not resent him when you forage your brain for reasons he might be ignoring you. You settle for resenting his line of work. Being an idol had great benefits like worldwide popularity and wealth, unfortunately, it often called for sacrificing your private life.

Blaming work calms your restless behavior for a while. You remind yourself it’s what he wants to do and he is doing it well. It would be impossible to fault him for immersing himself to the point everything else fades into background noise. Except you find it’s not impossible. When you see the group has returned via photos on the internet, three days after their arrival, that the cap on your carefully bottled anger pops off.

You send Johnny a picture of you pouting and follow it up with an ‘I wish you were here </3.’

It takes two hours for him to see it. Two hours and fifteen minutes more for him to answer back.

The adult way to handle your situation would be for you to tell him you knew he had returned, for you to ask when you could see him. However, Johnny’s caring personality often reduced you to a childish mess. It was easy for you to give way to your anxieties when you knew he would be around to comfort you, but this time he isn’t and he hasn’t been for a while..

You tug your shirt down some and put your free hand to your cheek, squishing it for maximum cuteness. Your cleavage is enhanced by your arms pressing your breasts together. You take what you decide is your final picture of the day and caption it something sappy about half of your heart missing. You post it to all of your private social media accounts. You doze off half an hour later and consequently miss his call.

You have two missed calls when you wake. Both are from Johnny and both you willfully ignore due to sheer pettiness. Wanting him to match you call for call, however irrational that would be, you prepare yourself dinner instead of worrying.

Someone knocks just after your first bite.

You sit still until there is a second set of knocks, heavier this time. When you hear the door handle rattle your suspicions are confirmed. Sprinting to the door and throwing it open, you are greeted by Johnny. He grins down at you, moving in for a hug. You back out of his reach, motioning for him to come in. He promptly removes his hat and unhooks his mask from under his chin, leaving them on the stand to his right.

You tap your fingers on the door as you lean your weight into it. He is waiting for you to remark on him being here, in your house. He believes the last thing you had known was that he was still out of the country. Except it’s not and you have known for a few hours as of now. You aren’t happy, you are pissed.

“Come on, aren’t you surprised to see me?” He gestures to himself. You clearly aren’t.

“Not really. The internet alerted me of your arrival.”

“Oh, it was one of those days?”

Those days were the ones where you could find nothing better to do. Not working or hanging out with friends or colleagues, the internet drew you in before the options on an online streaming service could. He knew you occasionally dabbled in checking on the group’s whereabouts or dispatch releases.

“I’ve had about ten of those days since you’ve been gone. That’s seven days short of the three days you’ve been back in Korea.”

Johnny visibly deflates at your revelation.

“I can’t comprehend why you didn’t tell me sooner, Johnny. You know if you wanted time to yourself you could have just told me.””

He huffs in annoyance. “Really, you can’t just be happy to see me? I’m happy to see you.”

“Cool, thanks.” You’re not sure where he gets off acting like this isn’t a big deal. It had been over a month since you’ve seen each other. He’s drawn it out longer than necessary, you would have preferred his honesty.

“__, what do you want me to do, apologize? I’m sorry. Can we just enjoy being together now? You told me you missed me earlier, though now I realize you were teasing me for not telling you I was back…This isn’t really anything to be mad over since I’m right here, right now.”

You allow yourself to be pulled into his arms. Aggravation aside it feels nice. Face turned so your cheek is plush against his chest, he drops kisses along the top of your head. “Ew, my hair hasn’t been washed in forever, stop that.” When you try to slip away he holds you tighter.

“That’s gross but you should be delighted to know you smell as fresh as daisies.”

“God, you are the corniest stalk in the field. I hope you don’t rub off on me.” You appreciate it despite your jests. He laughs loudly. “Alright, I’m not any better after that. I’m still mad at you though. I wish you would have told me. I would have prepared something special.”

“You knew and you still didn’t wash your hair.”

You grimace, this time successfully removing yourself from his grasp. “I just assumed after three days back and not a word said, you wouldn’t be coming to see me any time soon.”


“So that picture you sent wasn’t supposed to entice me in the least?” He raises his brows, “You looked great by the way. I missed your face. A lot.”

“No, it totally was.” You walk over to the dish of food left on the table. “ I was aiming to give you blue balls since you wanted to be an ass.” You begin to pack up your leftovers. “Just think, we could have been having sex for three days straight.”

“Why can’t we still do that,” He comes up behind you to turn on the sink. You hand him your bowl to wash. “Let’s take that idea and run with it.” He does a poor job at scrubbing, eager to get his hands on you. Your back is to him while you shuffle things around in the fridge. “You ignoring me?”

You snort. Not answering his one question and he’s asking if you’re ignoring him. You find it ironic and so you keep your mouth shut. You hear the water shut off.

He grabs you around the waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Baby, what’s wrong? You said so yourself that you need alone time occasionally. That can’t be what all this is about.”

“And why can’t it?” It’s easier to explain away. If you say that then you can maintain your dignity.

He’s turning to nuzzle his nose into your neck despite you attempting to escape his reach. He tugs you closer each time until you’re flush against him. He drags you away from the fridge and down the hall to your bedroom. “I don’t want you to be mad at me,” he makes you sit, ”but if you’re gonna be will you at least tell me why?”

You shake your head because he deserves an answer that you aren’t willing to give. Johnny is an easy read and you can see his patience dwindling with every quiet second. You chance it that he’ll understand your neuroticism even the slightest bit. “Did you really not come to see me because you wanted to be alone? Just a yes or no question.”

“Yes.” He’s silenced by a wave of your hand prior to his elaboration.

“Well, I don’t care if you want alone time, Johnny.” He looks utterly confused at your short tone now. “I want alone time sometimes too, and I get it whenever you have practice or need to shoot in a foreign country.” You are picking at the skin around your nails, “Except it's not three days of alone time when you go away, it’s weeks. So I’m a little mad that we’ve gone an entire month without seeing each other and you chose to prolong it.”

Johnny is used to you being open about when you want to be left alone. It’s a rarity, however, when you say that you want him around.  When he’s absent you never ask for him to see you, you offer to come see him. Throughout the course of your relationship, you’ve never once said you missed him. Until today that is. It’s why he came over instead of waiting until the next day as planned. “__, I. I hope you don’t think I did this because I didn’t want to see you. That’s not the case at all.”

You pinch at the bridge of your nose. It would be best for you to forget about the whole thing now that you’re together again.  “You’re off either performing and having the time of your life and my quote-unquote alone time is spent waiting for you to message me back or to pick up when I call.“ Sadly, everything that’s been bothering you is on the tip of your tongue, pushing at the backs of your teeth, begging to be let out. “Both of which are rare occurrences as of late. Honestly, John, it’s getting tiring being placed on the backburner.”

Johnny would never say that you were crazy, but he thinks about it sometimes. “Don’t be ...I’m not out there having fun all of the time. My work might be different than your desk job but it’s still work to me. I don’t always like doing it, not every day is a walk in the park.” He feels terrible about it, but it’s a fleeting thought he has when you’re angry with him..“I wanted time alone because I’ve been cooped up with the group since July.”

“God, I know that, I get that part!” You could scratch your eyes out and it would be less painful than having this conversation. You only continue because you don’t want him to leave and he will the second you clam up. “But it’s not about this singular occurrence, it’s a built-up mass of obsessive, negative concerns about our relationship.”

Johnny is starting to develop a massive headache. He’s reminded of why he wanted to be alone. He’s a fixer by heart, he sees someone needing help and he goes to them no questions asked. It’s nice for him to have time to himself, to not worry about the problems of others or the image he has to maintain in public. “What can I do?” But ultimately he loves you and hates to see you disgruntled more than usual.

As much as you want to hold on to your grudge, to keep the burning under your skin alive, you know if you don’t stop now you won’t forgive him in the near future. “Nothing.” You shake your head, “You can’t go back and answer my calls, reply to my messages. Take away the agitation I had,.. that would be nice but it’s altogether impossible.”

“There has to be something,” That’s code for he isn’t leaving until he feels you’ve let go of your resentment. He places a hand on top of yours. When you don’t pull away after a few seconds he trails it up to your elbow for leverage to tug you into his arms.

Johnny’s warmth does nothing to comfort you now, in fact, it makes you uneasy. Typically you will let yourself wallow until a numbness sets in and your tears dry. You’ll lay back in bed and stare at your ceiling fan, letting yourself go cross-eyed as you watch the fast rotation. If that doesn’t work, you’ll turn over onto your stomach and shove your hand down your pants and scream into your pillows. You hum at the idea.

“What is it?”

You hesitate to answer him, opening and closing your mouth a few times. “You could make me forget for a while if you’re up for it.”

He catches on immediately but wants to hear you say the words. He can practically feel you vibrating with anticipation in his hold.

“I want you to touch me.”

“You do?” He leans back to look at you. “Are you sure, because I was honestly afraid to even attempt hand holding a second ago.”

“It would be good stress relief, wouldn’t it? You know about this stuff better than I do.”

You mean he knows about calming people down, but Johnny’s had his fair share orgasms in a dirty stall mid-practice to get lessen his frustration. That’s where his mind wanders and he remembers it’s more of a band-aid than a long-term solution. Although, he half expected you to throw him out by now, so when you suggest this he nods. He gives you a kiss on the forehead, locking eyes before moving down to your lips, waiting to be turned away.

You meet in the middle, opening your mouth to him a second later. Tilting your head so the angle isn’t putting a strain on your neck, you grasp onto his shoulders. He licks into you and you become pliant under his guidance despite your fierce desperation. Johnny finds it weird how it’s easy for you to let go of control when it comes to sex, but difficult with anything else. He moves his hands to the back of your head to keep you close as he pushes you down onto the mattress.

A silence falls over the room when you part from each other. You shift further up the bed and he follows you, lying between your spread legs, mouth attaching to your neck. You arch your back and reach underneath yourself to undo your bra, throwing it to the side, then fumbling with your shirt until Johnny discards of it for you.


You instinctively cover your face when Johnny stops to stare at your bare chest. He runs his hands up and down your sides a few times before squeezing each of your mounds of flesh. You squirm against his cold touch and gasp when he tugs on your nipples. He keeps them pinched tight, listening to how your breaths turn shallow. His grip becomes tighter and tiny electric shocks run through you, causing you to cry out.

You are panting and your eyes have glossed over. Despite your pained noise, you haven’t asked for him to stop.  He sets out to replace his fingers with his teeth. You shudder under the wet heat, pushing yourself closer, yanking on his hair when his jaw goes slack. He eventually let’s go, choosing to trail his mouth down your stomach.

You busy yourself with trying to toe your pants down your legs, eager for whatever Johnny has planned. He pushes them past your knees and off one leg for to you to fling them to the ground. He further parts your thighs for his body to better fit when he shuffles lower. Face level with your pussy, he looks up to see you still hiding. “Is this okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with this?” You want to kick him but you wouldn’t actually dare. You wish he would just take what he wanted and get on with it. That’s what you did for yourself. You never drag it out, managing to work yourself to an orgasm in less than ten minutes when infuriated. “Just make me cum, please.”

He draws his brows together. You were too shy to look at him but okay with telling him to make you fall apart?  He separates your folds and proceeds to groan at the sight. Though surprised at how visibly wet you are, he finally comes to the conclusion of why you don’t want him to touch you after you’ve argued. You cannot fathom wanting him to touch you when all you need is for him to leave you alone.

You tremble as he leaves gentle kisses along your inner thighs. His fingers prodding at your entrance nearly driving you insane. He strokes a finger through your wetness a couple more times before pressing it into you. Your walls suction him in deeper and you ask for another. Johnny tentatively smiles at you, relieved to see your eyes uncovered and nervous to displease you at the same time. When he brings his mouth to your bundle of nerves your eyes roll back and you clutch at the pillow under your head.

The pleasure you are feeling quickly replaces any overpoweringly negative emotions. You realize you shouldn’t be changing your mind because of sexual gratification, but you can’t help it when he’s got his lips suctioned around your clit. As the flat of his tongue rubs against it you gasp, drawing the sound out as his fingers pick up their pace.

Johnny uses his free hand to hold you flat when he starts working in a third finger. He can hear you cursing his name at the stretch, though your soft pets to his hair are your way of rushing him. He glances up just to see you’ve hidden your face from his view again. “Are you good?”

The tone in which you call his name has his mind spinning. Half of him wants to stop all of this in order to fuck you senseless. The other half knows it’s better to give you what you want before asking for something in return. At the slide of his thumb against your clit, your hips buck despite his hold on you. He can sense your impatience and replaces his thumb with his tongue.

Your walls clench down on his digits and you will yourself to let go, ultimately finding it impossible. You bite at your lip and adjust the angle of your hips to change the trajectory of his pistoning fingers. You huff not knowing what more to ask for.

Johnny’s lips are sealed over your bundle of nerves and his tongue is pressing quick circles around it. You can usually come from that stimulation alone, but something is stopping you from falling. Even his speedy thrusts deep into your pussy aren’t helping you over the edge.

It’s after he takes one of your hands for you to squeeze instead of yanking on his hair that you realize what’s wrong. You have to call his name a few times before he dislodges himself, . His mouth is glistening as he questions you. “I want you to choke me.” At once he appears skeptical of your request.

“Baby I don’t think…”

“But I want you to. I need you to. Please?” Face typically shoved into your pillow as you ground your hips down onto the heel of your palm, the lack of oxygen got you off more than any well-placed friction. That desperate gasp of air and the sensation that comes with it is cathartic. If he wasn’t planning to wrap his hand around your neck in the next minute you were tempted to ask if you could at least choke on his dick.

He nods slowly, reaching forward cautiously. Just the weight of his hand has you arching into him. You tell him to squeeze harder while you begin to move against the other hand in between your legs. He pumps his fingers roughly, seeing no point in being soft when he can feel you pulsing around him, instantaneously letting out strangled moans.

“Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” The idea of you not being able to answer him has his cock aching. And the mere sight of you has his breath faltering. “You don’t want an apology, just wanted me to make you feel good, is that it?” He hated to admit that having you pinned down after facing your verbal lashing makes all of it feel righted.

You make an affirmative sound and grab onto his wrist, trying to anchor him to you. As he crooks his fingers upwards and switches his main focus back to your clit, your eyes are closing in ecstasy. The build-up of pressure in your core and knowing that Johnny has control over your breathing has you wound tightly in minutes.

A few more rough swipes of Johnny’s thumb has you throwing yourself back into the mattress, ripping his hand from your neck to fully breathe in. He continues to shower attention on your clit, enjoying the feeling of your walls clamping down on the fingers inside of your pussy.

He stares down at you, amazed that restricting your breathing made you cum undone in such a short amount of time. He withdraws his fingers and wipes them on your comforter while you turn on your side to curl in on yourself.

When he sees you clutch your arms to your chest, Johnny snaps out of his trance. Draping himself around you, he moves away the pieces of hair stuck to your forehead. He’s sure you can’t ignore his erection poking against your ass but decides to cast his libido aside for the time being.

You can feel the words he speaks against your shoulder. “What’s wrong, __? Didn’t that make you feel better?”

“Yes,” you mumble, shying away from his view once more. “I just.. That’s not weird is it?”

“Lots of people are into breathplay, babe, you aren’t alone.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” You give a long sigh before twisting around to face him. “I just got done reading you the riot act and then I ask for you to choke me and make me cum. You can cause me so much anguish,  yet I always want you around. I don’t want you to think I can’t live without you, Johnny, but that’s what it feels like sometimes.”

“Is that why you were mad I didn’t respond to you every time? You didn’t want to be the only codependent one?.” He takes your silence for as a yes. “__, you aren’t crazy because you wanted me to pin you down, that’s something to discuss another day. But as for you assuming, I don’t think about you while I’m away, that’s insulting. I’m constantly wondering what you’re up to, or seeing things stupid matching couple crap I want to buy for us, or something you’d find funny.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t pick up every once in a while and tell me that though.” Your previous actions have taken away your will to fight. At this point, you’re willing to take whatever he has to say into consideration.

“You’re so independent. You don’t bother me when I’m busy with practice or promoting. I assumed when you were contacting me while I’m away you were just…” he shakes his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Obviously, you care more than you let on, and I’m happy to know that.”

“Looks like both of us assuming things just made an ass out of you and me.”

Johnny cracks a smile. “Who was the corniest stalk in the field again?”

You push him away to just follow as he rolls onto his back. You lean over him. “I’ll admit I got a little carried away,” you clear your throat. “Maybe a little more than a little. Anyway, I’m sorry, I know I could stand to be more clear about stuff. I’ll work on it, just as long as it’s clear that I love you.”

The expression he makes has you blushing, wanting nothing more than to clam up. He coos and pulls you down to meet him for a sweet kiss. “I love you too, and If you’re up to hearing me whine about how much I miss you, then I can make an effort as well.”  

You feel...content. Normally, after an argument, you avoid each other until it became unbearable. You rarely apologized, that was more Johnny’s thing. He long ago came to understand that you even admitting a wrongdoing was difficult. This is new to you, and you feel as if your apology is somewhat insubstantial. “Is there anything else I can do to make it up?”

Johnny fakes a yawn, folding his arms under his head. “Don’t worry, you’ve done enough. This has all been super draining, I think I might need a nap.”

You raise your brows. “I was imagining the many ways I could repay you,” you trail a hand across his stomach, “ but I could most certainly use a nap.” Before you can turn around he tugs you closer so you’re chest to chest. He hauls one of your thighs over his lap. You sit up to straddle his waist.

“Forget what I said, please, enlighten me with your ideas.”