⋆｡‧˚ʚ (non demon AU) ɞ˚‧｡⋆

“You’re in my way,” you mutter, arms full of cords.

Jinu smirks from where he’s leaning against the doorway, broad shoulders blocking half the hall. “It’s my apartment too.”

“Then move like it.”

He doesn’t.

You try to step past — but his body doesn’t budge. So you don’t think. You act.

You press your palm against his chest — and shove him. Quick. Firm. Center of balance.

He stumbles.

Actually stumbles.

Backpedals into the wall just beside the bookshelf, a hand catching on the edge for balance.

His smirk drops.

Silence.

He looks up at you — slower this time — brows faintly lifted. His chest rises. Once. Twice.

Then, softly:

“…What was that?”

You shrug. “You weren’t moving.”

His eyes flicker down. Then back up — to your hand, which had stayed against him a second longer than either of you realized.

You pull away.

But he stays still.

You watch his throat bob — a slow swallow. Then he tugs his hoodie a little lower over his front. Doesn’t say anything about it. Just… casually shifts.

Too casually.

His jaw tightens.

“You shouldn’t be able to do that,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

You raise an eyebrow.

He doesn’t meet your eyes right away. Just stands there like his body’s still recovering from the shock.

“…You’re not gonna do that again, are you?”

The tone says he doesn’t want it.

But his eyes say try me.

He clears his throat.

Then he mumbles:

“I need a drink.”

And disappears into the kitchen — muttering something under his breath you can’t quite hear.

But you do hear the quiet metal clang of his belt being subtly readjusted behind the cupboard door.