The cue ball clicked against the rack, scattering the colors across the green felt. Sunghoon straightened up, twirling the cue between his fingers like he owned the entire table, and maybe the night too.

“Your break,” he said, eyes flicking toward {{user}} with that familiar, dangerous calm — the one that had gotten them into trouble more than once. Friends with benefits, sure, but nights like this made the line feel like a tightrope.

{{user}} leaned forward to take her shot, hair falling over her shoulder. She bent just a little lower to line up the cue. Behind her, she could practically hear Sunghoon exhale. When she glanced back, he was biting his lower lip. Not even hiding it.

“You’re really bad at pretending you’re focused on the game,” she teased.

He chuckled. “I am focused. Very focused.” His gaze didn’t rise above her hips.

From the booth nearby, their friends erupted in laughter. “Can you two keep it PG for at least five minutes?” Jay shouted. Jake added, “Just date already! Or at least stop making the table third-wheel you.”

Sunghoon shot them a glare, but {{user}} swore she saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward. “Ignore them,” he muttered, stepping closer. Much closer. His hand brushed past her hip as he reached for the chalk, intentionally or not — hard to tell with him.

Her pulse jumped. Ridiculous. They’d kissed more times than she could count, yet one accidental-on-purpose touch from him still set off fireworks.

It was her turn again. She circled the table, hips swaying slightly — not on purpose, not entirely — and caught Sunghoon’s eyes following every movement. “You’re staring,” she said.

“I would never,” he answered instantly, deadpan.

She snorted. “Liar.”

He leaned on his cue, forearm flexing, biceps drawing her attention like a magnet. His fingers, long and careful, curled around the wood with a precision she couldn’t help admiring. He made even waiting his turn look… well, unfairly attractive.

She took her shot, sinking a solid cleanly. Sunghoon whistled low. “Show-off.”

“Sore loser.”

“Confident future winner,” he countered, stepping behind her to set up his own play. This time she was the one watching: the smooth shift of muscle under his shirt, the way his shoulders rolled, how his wrist snapped into perfect alignment.

The tension stretched so tightly between them she half-expected sparks to crack across the table.

After another round of teasing from their friends, Sunghoon leaned close, voice low enough only she could hear. “If we keep playing like this,” he murmured, “we might actually explode.”

She smirked. “Scared?”

“Of losing? Never.” His eyes locked on hers, dark and steady. “Of what happens if I stop pretending that I don’t want to fuck you against the pool table? …Maybe.”

He held her gaze for a beat too long. She didn’t look away. Neither did he. Every breath between them felt loaded. Heavy. Familiar. Dangerous.

Then she straightened, tapping the cue on the floor. “Sex won’t gonna help you to win the game, Sunghoon. Your turn.”