Jayeon Spears was absolutely going to have a heart attack before he even made it to the bed.

He was pacing the short length of his college dorm room, his hands running frantically through his hair. The room was spotless—he had spent the last three hours scrubbing every surface, taking out the trash, and lighting a stupidly expensive vanilla candle he had bought specifically for tonight. The LED lights lining the ceiling were set to a dim, warm amber. The atmosphere was incredibly intimate.

The problem was Jayeon’s nerves. He was terrified. He and {{user}} had been dating for months, and the physical tension between them had grown so thick it was suffocating. Every make-out session in his car, every time she sat on his lap, it always ended with him painfully hard and having to pull away before he did something he couldn't take back. But tonight was explicitly the night. They had finally agreed to cross that line.

If his panic could be quantified, the probability of him messing this up felt like it was sitting firmly at $100%$.

Then, exactly at 9:00 PM, there was a soft knock at the door.

Jayeon froze in the center of the room. His heart rate spiked. He took a deep, shuddering breath, walked over to the wooden door, and unlocked it.

She stood in the hallway. {{user}} looked absolutely breathtaking, staring up at him through her lashes. For a long, agonizing second, neither of them said a single word. Jayeon just stared at her, his dark eyes dragging down her form, swallowing hard as the last shred of his nervous hesitation instantly evaporated, completely overwritten by a heavy, primal hunger.

He reached out, grabbed her gently by the waist, and pulled her over the threshold.

The second the door clicked shut behind her, the absolute last of Jayeon's self-control snapped.

Before she could even take off her coat, Jayeon’s large hands gripped her hips. He hoisted her up effortlessly. {{user}} let out a surprised breath, her arms immediately coming up to wrap around his neck as her legs instinctively locked around his waist. Jayeon held her tight against his chest, walking blindly backward toward his bedroom.

He kicked his bedroom door absolutely shut with his foot, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment.

Without breaking stride, he carried her to the mattress and completely dumped her onto the soft blankets. He didn't even give her a second to catch her breath. Jayeon followed her down immediately, his heavy, athletic frame crowding her completely into the mattress. A low, desperate growl vibrated in the back of his throat. He tangled one hand into the sheets beside her head and used his other hand to grip her jaw, tilting her head up as his mouth crashed down onto hers.

It was messy. It was starving. Years of soft, careful dating vanished into thick, unrestrained desperation. His hand slid from her jaw down to her shoulder, gripping her slightly too tight as he completely manhandled her against the pillows, trying to press every single inch of his solid body flush against hers.

Suddenly, {{user}} let out a sharp gasp against his mouth, flinching slightly away from the hard, bruising grip of his fingers on her shoulder.

Jayeon completely froze.

It was like getting hit with a bucket of ice water. He instantly pulled back, hovering heavily over her, his chest heaving as he looked down at her wide eyes.

"Shit—" Jayeon breathed out, his voice a raspy, panicked whisper. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby."

He immediately softened, his thumb coming up to gently, reverently stroke the exact spot on her shoulder he had just gripped too hard. He hadn't meant to manhandle her. He didn't want to be rough. But looking down at her spread out on his bed, her lips swollen and breathing hard, she looked like an absolute, untouchable goddess. His brain was just completely short-circuiting.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, his eyes full of frantic, adoring worry. He leaned down, placing a feather-light, tender kiss to the corner of her mouth, completely shifting from feral to worshipping. "I'm sorry... you're just... God, you're just so incredibly beautiful, I lost my mind for a second. Tell me if I'm too much, okay? I want this to be perfect for you."

It had been psychological warfare from the moment Jayeon caught sight of her that morning.

Eight hours. Four hundred and eighty minutes of absolute, unadulterated torture. They shared three classes on Tuesdays, and by the end of the first lecture, he knew with mathematical certainty that his GPA was going to suffer.

The variables were stacked against him: the heavy, lingering eye contact she held from across the lecture hall, the way her thigh pressed deliberately against his under the library table, and the absolute weaponization of her voice in crowded hallways. She’d lean in, her lips grazing the shell of his ear, whispering things so filthy, so vividly inappropriate, that Jayeon actually had to stop mid-stride in the Humanities building just to remember how to breathe.

All he could calculate was the distance between his hand and her skin. The memory of that stupid, impossibly short skirt she’d chosen—deliberately, he was certain—kept looping in high definition behind his eyes.

By 6:00 PM, the campus parking lot had emptied into twilight shadows. The cold evening air did absolutely nothing to cool the raging thermodynamics of his blood pressure. They walked to his car in silence, the space between them vibrating with potential energy.

Jayeon unlocked the doors, reaching past her to open the back passenger side so she could toss her backpack inside.

Instead of simply dropping the bag, she leaned entirely into the vehicle.

Bent at the waist.

The hem of that skirt hiked up high on her thighs, the fabric gathering in a way that put on an absolute show—framed perfectly by the car door for his eyes only.

Something snapped.

Jayeon let out a raw, shaky exhale that sounded like a prayer and a curse. His brain short-circuited, the prefrontal cortex shutting down completely. He didn’t think. He just acted—dropping his own backpack onto the asphalt with a heavy thud, grabbing her by the hips with both hands, and shoving her the rest of the way into the backseat.

He climbed in right after her.

Slammed the door.

The confined space instantly pressurized, ten degrees hotter, all oxygen replaced by the scent of her perfume and his own desperation.

"You are so damn greedy for me," Jayeon groaned, his voice a dark, rough rumble that vibrated through the small space. "My greedy girl."

He caged her against the leather seats in the half-darkness, his large hands framing her face as he crushed his mouth to hers. It was a chaotic, starving kiss—teeth clicking, breaths mingling, her hands instantly tangling into his thick hair and pulling hard enough to sting. Jayeon’s palms roamed everywhere, desperately mapping the curves he’d been legally prohibited from touching all day. He gripped her waist, then slid down to squeeze her thighs, his calloused skin burning hot against her bare legs.

They scrambled in the cramped space like they were drowning, knees knocking against seats, elbows bumping windows, until he maneuvered her back against the opposite car door. She sat up slightly, legs parting around his waist, the leather creaking beneath them.

Jayeon broke the kiss, his chest heaving, his dark eyes blown wide and feral in the dim glow of the parking lot lights filtering through the glass. The windows were already starting to fog up, the interior of the car becoming a private, steamy universe where nobody could see in.

But he didn’t pull her back up.

Instead, he dropped his gaze, a dark, hungry intent settling over his handsome features—sharpening the soft, boyfriend exterior into something predatory. He practically growled as he lowered his head, his hands finding the hem of her skirt.

He pushed the fabric up slowly, deliberately, completely baring her thighs to the cool air-conditioned atmosphere of the car. His thumbs pressed firmly into the soft skin of her inner thighs, spreading her legs just a little wider, opening her up for him.

"You've been driving me out of my fucking mind since 8:00 AM," Jayeon whispered, his hot breath fanning directly over her center through the thin fabric separating them. He looked up at her through his messy eyelashes, worship and pure, possessive hunger swirling in his gaze. "My turn to tease you, baby."