The early morning light filtered through the sheer curtains of Felix and Chhwe Saekyung’s shared apartment, casting a soft golden glow over their cozy bedroom. The faint hum of a catchy tune drifted in from the kitchen, where Felix was already up, probably burning toast again. Saekyung, however, was still tangled in the sheets, her dark hair a wild mess across the pillow. At seventeen, she was a force of nature—sharp-tongued, unapologetically bold, and usually the first to roll out of bed with a snarky comment. But this morning? Something was... off.
She shifted under the covers, her brow furrowing as a strange, sticky warmth bloomed low in her abdomen. Her breath hitched. What the hell? Her thighs clenched instinctively, and a wave of heat surged through her, intense and uninvited. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she yanked the blanket up to her chin, mortified. “Oh, come on,” she muttered under her breath, glaring at the ceiling as if it were to blame. “Not now. Not ever. This is ridiculous.”
The bedroom door creaked open, and Felix poked his head in, his platinum blonde hair tousled from sleep, a spatula in one hand. At twenty-one, he was every bit the idol—lean, charming, and just clueless enough to be endearing. “Yo, Saekyung, you up yet? I’m attempting pancakes. Emphasis on *attempting*.” His voice was light, teasing, and his grin was stupidly bright for this early in the morning.
Saekyung shot him a withering look from beneath the covers, her dark eyes narrowing. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for your sad excuse for breakfast, pretty boy? Burn the kitchen down somewhere else. I’m sleeping.”
Felix raised an eyebrow, unfazed by her bite. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms, the spatula dangling lazily. “Damn, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Or... under the wrong side of the blanket? You’re hiding like a gremlin. What’s up with that?”
Her heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t know. No way. She tightened her grip on the blanket, her voice dripping with venom to mask the embarrassment clawing at her. “What’s up is you being a nosy little idol with no sense of personal space. Go flip your stupid pancakes before I flip you out the window.”
He chuckled, stepping into the room with that infuriatingly casual stride of his. “Ouch, babe. You wound me. But seriously, you okay? You’re redder than the hot sauce I spilled last week. And trust me, that was a disaster.” His eyes softened with concern, and damn it, that made it worse. He was too good at reading her, even when she was trying to build a fortress of sarcasm around herself.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, sitting up abruptly and pulling the blanket tighter around her waist. Bad move. The sticky sensation intensified, and she bit her lip to stifle a gasp. “Just... peachy. Now get out before I make you.”
Felix tilted his head, unconvinced. He sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring her death glare, and reached out to poke her cheek. “Nah, I’m not buying it. You’re acting weirder than usual, and that’s saying something. Spill, Saekyung. What’s got you all... squirmy?”
Her jaw dropped, and for a split second, she considered smothering him with a pillow. “Squirmy? Are you serious right now? I’m not squirmy, you overgrown puppy. I’m just—ugh, fine! It’s... it’s a situation, okay? A personal one. As in, none of your damn business.”
His smirk widened, and she wanted to wipe it off his face. “A situation, huh? Sounds juicy. Come on, I’m your boyfriend. I’m legally obligated to care about your situations. Lay it on me.”
Saekyung groaned, dragging a hand down her face. There was no way out of this. He’d keep poking until she cracked, and she wasn’t about to let him have that much power. Better to rip the Band-Aid off herself. “Fine. If you must know, I woke up... sticky. Down there. And no, it’s not what you’re thinking, you pervert. It’s just... weird. And hot. Like, too hot. Happy now?”
Felix blinked, processing her words, then burst into laughter, clutching his sides. “Sticky? Oh my God, Saekyung, are you for real? That’s the cutest way I’ve ever heard someone describe—”
“Finish that sentence, and I’ll end you,” she hissed, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it. “This isn’t funny, Felix! I feel like my body’s betraying me, and you’re sitting here giggling like a middle schooler. Some boyfriend you are.”
He caught the pillow, still grinning, but his tone softened. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear. I just... didn’t expect that. But seriously, are you okay? Like, does it hurt or...?”
“No, it doesn’t hurt,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze. “It’s just... intense. And annoying. I don’t know what’s happening, and I hate not knowing. So, congratulations, you’ve officially ruined my morning. Fix it.”
Felix rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. “Uh, I’m not exactly a doctor, babe. But we can figure this out. How about we go see someone? Like a gyno or something? Just to make sure it’s nothing serious.”
Saekyung stared at him, torn between gratitude and the urge to throttle him for even suggesting she parade her “situation” in front of a stranger. But he was right. She needed answers. “Fine,” she grumbled. “But if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll leak your embarrassing dance practice videos. Got it?”
He held up his hands in surrender, still smirking. “Deal. Now get dressed, gremlin. We’ve got an awkward doctor’s visit to crush.”
---
The gynecologist’s office was sterile and smelled faintly of antiseptic, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy radiating off Saekyung as she sat on the exam table, arms crossed, glaring at the wall. Felix sat beside her, trying (and failing) to look casual while flipping through a magazine about prenatal care. The doctor, a no-nonsense woman in her fifties with sharp eyes and a smirk that could cut glass, entered the room with Saekyung’s chart in hand.
“Well, Miss Chhwe,” Dr. Kim began, her tone dry as she glanced at Felix, “I’ve got some news for your... concerned companion here. You’re experiencing a rather dramatic hormonal surge. Nothing dangerous, mind you, just your body deciding to throw a little party downstairs. The solution? Simple. Physical intimacy. It’ll help balance things out.”
Felix’s jaw dropped, the magazine slipping from his hands with a loud thud. “I’m sorry, what now?”
Saekyung, however, didn’t miss a beat. She turned to Felix, her smirk rivaling the doctor’s. “You heard her, idol boy. Doc says we need to get busy. So, what’s the hold-up? Afraid you can’t keep up with me? I thought you had all that stage stamina. Or is that just for show?”
Felix sputtered, his face turning a shade of red she hadn’t seen since the time she’d caught him practicing aegyo in the mirror. “Saekyung, I—uh—I mean, I’m not saying no, I just... you’re seventeen! I’m not about to rush into anything, okay? I care about you. Like, a lot. Can we maybe... talk about this first?”
She rolled her eyes, leaning closer until their noses were inches apart, her voice low and teasing. “Oh, come on, Felix. Don’t play the noble knight with me. I’m not asking for a ring, just a solution to my little... problem. Or are you scared I’ll outshine you in that department too?”
Dr. Kim cleared her throat, clearly amused. “I’ll leave you two to sort out the logistics. Just remember, consent and communication are key. I’ll be outside if you have questions.” With that, she exited, leaving a stunned Felix and a smug Saekyung in her wake.
Felix ran a hand through his hair, looking like he’d just been hit by a truck. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that? I’m trying to be responsible here, and you’re out here throwing curveballs.”
Saekyung grinned, poking his chest. “Responsible is boring, babe. But fine, we’ll talk. For now. Don’t think this means you’re off the hook, though. I’m not letting this go so easy.”
As they left the office, Felix couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in way over his head with this fiery, unapologetic girl. And Saekyung? She was already plotting how to push his buttons next. Sticky situation or not, she was in control—and she liked it that way.
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