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The air in the practice room was thick with heat and the steady thrum of bass rattling through the walls as the group moved in sync. Sweat glistened on their skin, breaths coming out in quick, measured exhales as they pushed through another run of their routine. Seonghwa was used to the exhaustion that came with rehearsals. It was almost comforting, in a way.
Especially today. He’d been looking forward to this, eager to shake off the last traces of sickness and fall back into routine.
But something felt off.
It took him a few more beats to pinpoint exactly why.
Yunho was struggling.
Normally, Yunho thrived in rehearsals. As one of the main dancers, he was the first to perfect every move, guiding the others through tricky transitions with that effortless charm of his. He was the kind of person who could go full out for hours and still have the energy to goof off in between takes, dragging the others into his whirlwind of boundless energy.
But today, Yunho was quiet. Too quiet.
He was still hitting the moves, but there was something sluggish about the way he moved. His footwork was a second too slow, his usual precision dulled at the edges. His broad shoulders, usually held high with confidence, slumped slightly with each step. Even more concerning was the way he barely spoke, offering none of his usual playful remarks or encouragement.
Seonghwa frowned, his own movements faltering for a fraction of a second. Yunho had been fine that morning, hadn’t he? A little sleepy, sure, but nothing out of the ordinary. But now that he was looking closer, he could see the paleness beneath the sheen of sweat on Yunho’s face, the way his lips were pressed together in concentration like he was forcing himself to keep up.
“Alright, let’s take five,” their dance instructor finally called out, clapping his hands. The tension in the room loosened as the others immediately dropped into relaxed positions, Wooyoung flopping onto the floor with a dramatic groan, Jongho chugging half his water bottle in one go.
Yunho, however, didn’t move.
Seonghwa’s frown deepened. Instead of heading for his bag or even stretching out his sore limbs, Yunho just stood there, hands on his hips, breathing deeply like he was trying to steady himself.
That was enough for Seonghwa to push past his own exhaustion and walk over.
“Here.” He nudged Yunho’s arm with a bottle of water he’d grabbed from his own bag. Yunho blinked at him, looking dazed for a moment before hesitantly taking it.
“Thanks, hyung,” he murmured, voice scratchy as he twisted the cap off.
Seonghwa folded his arms. “Are you okay?”
Yunho huffed a small, breathy laugh before taking a sip of water. “Yeah, just tired.”
It was a simple answer. But one Seonghwa didn’t buy for one second.
“Yunho.” His voice took on that firm tone that left no room for argument. Yunho winced slightly, glancing away like a guilty child caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“I’m fine,” he tried again.
“Uh-huh.” Seonghwa didn’t let up, scanning Yunho’s face. His skin was too pale, the flush of exertion a little too deep. Seonghwa knew that look. He’d seen it in the mirror just a few days ago when he’d been sick with the same thing he was beginning to suspect Yunho now had.
“Yunho,” he sighed, lowering his voice so the others wouldn’t overhear. “Are you sick?”
Yunho hesitated. That was all the answer Seonghwa needed.
“I’m fine,” Yunho insisted, but his voice wavered just enough to make it obvious he was not fine.
Seonghwa ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, suppressing the urge to coddle him right then and there. Yunho was stubborn, sure, but if he was right and Yunho had the same thing Seonghwa had just gotten over… this was going to be a long day.
“Did you eat this morning?” Seonghwa asked instead, trying a different approach.
Yunho hesitated again, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“Yunho.”
“I had coffee,” Yunho finally admitted, voice sheepish.
Seonghwa closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply through his nose. “Coffee does not count as breakfast.”
Yunho gave him a lopsided smile, as if that would somehow distract him. “It does when you drink a lot of it.”
Seonghwa did not find that amusing.
“You need to sit down,” he said, grabbing Yunho’s wrist before he could argue. His skin was warm. Too warm. Not quite burning, but enough that Seonghwa’s stomach twisted in concern.
“I’m okay,” Yunho tried again, but his voice lacked conviction, and now that Seonghwa was this close, he could see the way his eyelids drooped, how his body swayed slightly like he was barely holding himself up.
Seonghwa didn’t argue. He just tightened his grip and pulled Yunho toward the corner of the room, guiding him down onto the floor despite his weak protests. Yunho sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before letting his head tip back against the wall.
“Drink the water,” Seonghwa ordered. Yunho did.
“Slow down,” Seonghwa added when Yunho nearly chugged half the bottle in one go.
Yunho cracked a small grin at that, eyes peeking open. “You’re bossy.”
“You’re sick.”
“Am not.”
Seonghwa simply gave him a look.
Yunho huffed, shoulders slumping slightly as he took another, slower sip of water. “You’re worse than my mom.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sure your mom would thank me. Someone has to take care of you if you won’t do it yourself.”
Something flickered across Yunho’s expression at that, too quick for Seonghwa to catch. Before he could question it, their instructor called for them to get back into position.
Seonghwa didn’t hesitate. He stood and turned toward their instructor before speaking up, “Yunho’s sick. He needs to go home.”
The words cut through the room like a knife. Every head in the room snapped toward them, and Yunho visibly stiffened beside him.
“Home?” Wooyoung sat up from where he was sprawled on the floor.
San, who had been stretching his arms, turned toward them with a concerned look on his face.
They were idols. They worked themselves to the bone, it’s just what they did. So, Seonghwa suggesting Yunho go home and miss practice made it clear to everybody what kind of shape he was in.
Mingi took a step closer, “What’s wrong, Yunho?”
Seonghwa lifted a hand, “Hold on, Mingi. You don’t want to get too close. I think he’s got what I had, and you really don’t want to catch it.”
Hongjoong, who had been watching quietly up until now, let out a sigh. “You do look pretty rough, Yu. Let me call our manager and get you a ride back to the dorm.”
Yunho made a vague noise of protest, but it was weak at best. That alone told Seonghwa just how awful he must be feeling. If he was too sick to argue about missing practice, he was definitely not okay.
“Should someone go with him?” Mingi asked, glancing toward Yeosang.
Seonghwa shook his head before Yeosang could answer. “I’ll go with him. It’s not like he can get me sick again.” Then, he turned to Yeosang and added, “It shouldn’t last more than a day or two, but you should probably stay out of the dorm for a few days to let Yunho completely work it out of his system. You can stay in my room in the meantime so you don’t get it too.”
Yeosang hesitated. “But hyung, should I really be staying in your room if you were just sick?”
Before Seonghwa could answer, San snorted. “Please, that room was sanitized seconds after Seonghwa felt the last of the virus leaving his body.”
Mingi laughed. “No kidding. I think I saw him disinfecting the air.”
Seonghwa rolled his eyes, “And that’s exactly why neither of you got sick. You’re welcome.” Then, turning back to Yeosang, he gave a reassuring nod, “It’s fine, I promise.”
Hongjoong, who had just finished making the call, looked up. “Manager’s on the way. You two should head down now. Take care, Yunho.”
With that, Seonghwa crouched down to help Yunho to his feet, slipping an arm around his waist to steady him as they made their way out of the practice room.
By the time they made it back to the dorm, Yunho was barely keeping himself upright. The moment Seonghwa guided him through the apartment and into his bedroom, his shoulders sagged, and he let out a slow breath, as if finally allowing himself to acknowledge how awful he felt.
“Alright, straight to bed,” Seonghwa instructed.
Yunho made yet another small noise of protest, but he didn’t resist when Seonghwa helped him sit on the edge of the bed and pushed lightly at his chest until he was laying down.
Then, Seonghwa reached for the blanket at the foot of the bed and pulled it up, tucking it under Yunho’s chin.
Yunho was already looking pretty bad back at the practice room, but he was even worse off now. And from what Seonghwa could remember, his own illness came on fast and strong. If this was anything like what he’d experienced, Yunho was likely going to spike a fever soon, and Seonghwa wanted to get ahead of it.
“I’m going to get you some medicine and tea,” he said gently, but before he could take a single step away from the bed, a warm hand curled weakly around his left wrist.
Seonghwa blinked, looking down to find Yunho peering up at him through half-lidded eyes.
“Don’t go,” Yunho mumbled. His voice was barely above a whisper. “I like you here with me.”
Seonghwa chuckled quietly, as he reached his free hand out to feel Yunho’s forehead. He hadn’t developed a fever yet, but the way he was talking, soft and unfocused, words slipping out without hesitation, let Seonghwa know that, yes, he was getting worse. Fast.
Seonghwa swallowed, gently prying Yunho’s hand off of him. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, brushing back a few strands of Yunho’s hair.
Yunho let out a tiny, content hum at the gesture, his body going completely slack under Seonghwa’s touch. His lashes fluttered, and his lips parted slightly, his breathing already slowing.
Seonghwa hesitated for just a second, not wanting to leave Yunho alone, but knowing he needed to get some medication into him before the worst of this hit.
“I’ll be quick,” he murmured, stepping away.
As he made his way to the kitchen, his movements were swift but careful. He put the kettle on for the tea, pulled out the medicine Yunho would need, and set aside a damp towel for his forehead in case his fever spiked later.
Just as he was placing everything onto a tray, a knock at the front door caught his attention.
He opened the door to find the neatly packed bag of takeout that he had ordered on the drive back to the dorm waiting for him. He walked it back to the kitchen and placed the small variety of dishes onto the tray alongside the medication, a bottle of water, an electrolyte drink, and a box of tissues.
Letting out a quiet, satisfied breath, he headed back to Yunho’s room, balancing the tray carefully as he nudged the door open.
Yunho stirred at the sound, cracking his eyes open as Seonghwa settled onto the bed beside him. He tried to sit up, his movements slow and sluggish, but Seonghwa quickly placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Easy,” Seonghwa murmured, helping him adjust against the pillows. He pulled the tray closer, letting Yunho take in the food in front of him
“I didn’t know what you’d be in the mood for, so I got you a few options,” Seonghwa said, “Juk, samgyetang, kimchi jjigae. I even got you some soondubu if you like something spicy when you’re sick, but if not I can eat that. Or, if none of it sounds good, I can save it for later and order you something else. I just want to make sure you eat something so you don’t take this medication on an empty stomach.”
Yunho blinked up at him, his expression soft and unfocused. His eyes were glassy, but they crinkled slightly at the corners, his lips parting in a slow, barely-there smile.
“Thanks, hyung.” Yunho said as he reached for the juk and took a bite.
Seonghwa’s own lips twitched upward, happy to see that Yunho at least had a small appetite. “Alright,” he said quietly, standing from the bed once more. “I’m going to go get you your tea, and when I get back you’re going to take this medicine, okay? Then you can finish eating and I want you to try to get some sleep. How does that sound?”
Yunho didn’t say anything, just gave the smallest nod before taking another bite of the food.
Seonghwa stayed long enough to watch him take yet another bite before slipping away to make the tea. By the time it had finished steeping and he returned, Yunho had eaten enough to satisfy Seonghwa, and he took the medicine without protest.
It didn’t take long for sleep to start pulling at him again. Yunho’s body relaxed further into the mattress, the lines of exhaustion softening as his breathing evened out.
Seonghwa leaned forward, adjusting the blanket over him again, and Yunho let out a quiet sigh.
“You’re really pretty,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep, “Did you know that?”
Seonghwa chuckled softly. “And you’re really sick. Did you know that?”
Before he could think about it, Seonghwa leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Yunho’s forehead.
It was a strange gesture, one he didn’t do very often, and definitely not to Yunho. But it felt right. Especially because the brief contact reassured Seonghwa that Yunho’s temperature hadn’t risen any higher.
And maybe, just maybe, he also did it because Yunho just looked so soft like this, warm and sleepy under the covers.
Yunho’s lips curled into the faintest, drowsy smile, though he didn’t open his eyes.
Seonghwa exhaled quietly, smoothing the blanket over him once more. “I’m gonna let you sleep,” he said softly. “I’ll have my phone on me, so just text me if you need anything.”
Yunho hummed in response, shifting slightly like he was getting comfortable. But reached out, grabbing Seonghwa’s wrist again before he could leave.
Seonghwa couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips, “Yu, you need to rest. You’ll sleep better if you have the bed to yourself.”
Yunho’s brows scrunched together, clearly disagreeing. “Would sleep better with you,” he murmured.
Seonghwa felt something twist in his chest but shook his head. “You’ll be fine, you big baby. I’ll come check on you soon.”
Yunho grumbled something unintelligible but didn’t argue further as Seonghwa carefully pulled away. He lingered for a moment, making sure Yunho was truly settled before stepping out of the room.
Seonghwa spent the next hour quietly tidying up the dorm. Yunho and Yeosang weren’t the messiest members, but they definitely weren’t the tidiest either. Seonghwa wiped down the kitchen counters, straightened up the living room, and went into Yeosang’s room to gather some things he might need while he was out of the dorm, sanitized it and left it in a bag by the front door.
After finishing up, he glanced at his phone and checked the time. It had been a while. He should check on Yunho.
When Seonghwa stepped into the room again, he immediately knew something was wrong.
Yunho had curled in on himself under the blankets, his body trembling slightly. Even with his face partially burried in his pillow, Seonghwa could see the flush high on his cheeks, the sweat clinging to his brow.
He definitely had a fever now.
Seonghwa reached for the damp towel he had set aside earlier, but as soon as he tried to press it to Yunho’s forehead, Yunho weakly batted his hand away.
“Don’t want it,” Yunho murmured.
Seonghwa frowned. “Yunho, this is gonna help you feel better, I promise.”
Yunho shook his head, his movements sluggish but stubborn. Instead of reaching for the towel, his fingers found Seonghwa’s arm again, gently tugging him onto the bed.
“It’s cold. Can you come here, hyung?”
Then, Yunho turned those ridiculously big, glossy eyes up at him, half-lidded and pleading.
Seonghwa was done for.
With a resigned sigh, he climbed into bed beside Yunho, shifting so he could pull him close. Yunho immediately curled into him, his forehead pressing against Seonghwa’s shoulder, his breath warm against his collarbone.
Seonghwa wrapped his arms around him, rubbing slow, careful circles into his back as Yunho’s body gradually relaxed.
After a while, the shivering stopped, and Yunho’s breath evened out once more. But still, Seonghwa didn’t move. He just held him.
With one arm still around Yunho, he carefully pulled out his phone with his free hand and sent a quick update in the group chat.
Seonghwa: Yunho’s fever spiked, but he’s sleeping now. I’ll wake him up in a few hours for more medicine.
Hongjoong: Do we need to grab anything on the way home?
Seonghwa: No, I think we’re good for now. I’ll let you know if that changes.
There were a few more messages: well wishes for Yunho, thanks to Seonghwa for taking care of him, and even a few teasing remarks about what a good nurse Seonghwa would make, but Seonghwa ignored most of them, locking his phone and letting his head rest lightly against the pillow, paying close attention to the sound of Yunho’s soft, steady breaths.
A few hours later, Yunho stirred.
Seonghwa, who had been mindlessly scrolling through his phone beside him, immediately set it down and turned to him. “Hey, you’re up,” he said softly.
Yunho let out a low groan, burying his face deeper into Seonghwa’s chest before peeking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Don’t feel good.”
Seonghwa frowned, reaching out to brush his fingers lightly against Yunho’s forehead. Still warm, but slightly better than before. “You still have a fever. But here, it’s almost time to take more medicine. You can take it a little early.”
Yunho let out another little noise of protest but didn’t fight it when Seonghwa helped him sit up.
Seonghwa had to bite back a laugh as he took in Yunho’s appearance. He looked completely out of it. His hair was a mess, sticking up in odd angles, his eyes glazed and unfocused as he blinked sluggishly at Seonghwa like he was still trying to process where he was.
It was adorable.
Yunho squinted at him, clearly noticing the amusement in Seonghwa’s expression. “Why are you laughing at me?” he mumbled.
Seonghwa did laugh this time, shaking his head fondly. “I’m sorry, you just look so cute.”
Yunho blinked at him slowly. Then, to Seonghwa’s surprise, his lips curled into a soft, lopsided smile.
“Oh,” he murmured, his voice a little dazed. “I like it when you say stuff like that.”
Seonghwa felt his heart stutter.
Instead of acknowledging the way warmth crept up his neck, he let out a breathy chuckle and reached for the medicine and bottle of water. “Oh yeah?”
Yunho gave a slow, exaggerated nod, his head lolling slightly with the movement.
Seonghwa watched him closely as he took the medicine, his fingers brushing lightly over Yunho’s as he handed him the water. Yunho took a small sip, then a few more, before finally returning the bottle to Seonghwa’s hands and flopping back against the pillows with a heavy sigh.
A quiet moment passed before Yunho spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah… I like you, hyung.”
Seonghwa froze.
Yunho’s eyes slipped shut for a brief second before they fluttered open again. His words were slow, a little slurred from exhaustion. “I wish you would say stuff like that to me all the time. It makes me…” he trailed off lazily gesturing to his stomach, “You know. Butterflies or whatever.”
Seonghwa’s chest tightened, but quickly brushed it off, trying to ignore the feeling. “You really have no idea what you’re saying right now, do you?”
Yunho frowned at that, lifting his head from the pillow just slightly. “Yes, I do.” His brows pinched together in frustration, and he let out a huffy breath.
Then, before Seonghwa could think to stop him, Yunho murmured, “I like you. I think about kissing you a lot.”
Seonghwa’s breath caught.
Yunho was looking at his lips.
Heat flooded Seonghwa’s face as his heart slammed against his ribs. Yunho’s feverish expression was hazy, but there was no mistaking the want in his eyes, even if he wasn’t fully conscious that it was there.
Seonghwa’s throat went dry. Why was he saying all of this?
They were close, sure. The two of them had been spending more and more time together lately. More often, they'd started pairing off naturally during their downtime, lingering in each other’s spaces long after their conversations should have ended. And, out of all of the other members, Yunho had been the only one to catch Seonghwa’s virus. That was no coincidence.
They’d joked about how many “dates” they’d gone on recently, how they always ended up side by side, how Yunho never seemed to mind when Seonghwa fussed over him, and how Seonghwa never minded when Yunho was just there, looking at him with that boyish, unshaken adoration.
And if Seonghwa were being honest with himself… he liked it. He liked Yunho’s presence more than he liked spending time with anyone else. He liked Yunho’s voice, his laughter, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at him. He liked the way Yunho leaned into his touch like it was something he needed.
And, yeah… maybe Seonghwa also thought about kissing him a lot.
Well, maybe not a lot.
But definitely more often than a normal person might think about kissing their friend.
But they were just friends. Weren’t they?
They were friends and coworkers. That was all.
This... this had to be the fever talking. Yunho wasn’t in his right mind.
“I talk about you to Mingi and Yeosang all the time,” Yunho admitted, his lashes heavy as he blinked up at Seonghwa. “They think I should tell you how I feel, but… I’m too much of a chicken to do it.”
Seonghwa felt the world shift beneath him.
He should stop this. Yunho was feverous, completely out of it, unaware of what he was saying.
He needed to put an end to this before he let himself believe it was real.
Seonghwa swallowed hard, forcing his voice to stay steady. “Thank you, Yunho,” he murmured, offering a small, sincere smile. “That really means a lot… but I think it’s time for you to get some more sleep.”
Yunho’s lips turned downward almost immediately. “But—“
“No buts,” Seonghwa said, adjusting the blanket around him. “You need rest.”
Yunho huffed dramatically, blinking up at him with glassy, tired eyes before mumbling, “Can you kiss me, hyung?”
Seonghwa’s entire body went still, his heart caught somewhere between racing and stopping altogether.
“What?”
Yunho pouted. “I want you to kiss me. You kissed my forehead earlier. Can you do it again? Or—“ he pointed vaguely at his lips, blinking at Seonghwa expectantly.
Seonghwa let out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “You’re sick, Yunho. You don’t know what you’re asking.”
Yunho’s pout deepened, his bottom lip sticking out just enough to be unfairly endearing. “Well, I’m not going to sleep then.”
Seonghwa stared at him, completely unable to believe he was negotiating sleep in exchange for a kiss with his fever-ridden friend.
He was seconds away from putting his foot down and walking out of the room, knowing that he would fall asleep eventually, but Yunho was just… Yunho.
He was all wide, hazy eyes, warm and pliant under the blankets, looking up at him like he wanted nothing more than his affection, and Seonghwa couldn’t leave him.
But he couldn’t kiss him either, not now. Not like this. But considering Yunho was so delirious that he wouldn’t remember a single second of this conversation when he woke up, Seonghwa decided that there might be something he could do to appease him.
“Listen,” Seonghwa began, allowing himself to say the thoughts he hadn’t even had time to process yet. “I want to kiss you, Yunho.”
Yunho perked up instantly, his eyes glimmering with hope.
Seonghwa pressed a finger to his nose, making him scrunch it up. “I want to kiss you so bad right now, despite how sick and snotty you are, because you’re being so adorable and clingy.”
Yunho let out a weak laugh, but Seonghwa wasn’t done.
“But,” Seonghwa continued, his voice softer now, “I don’t know if it’s what you really want. Between your fever and all the medicine, your brain definitely isn’t functioning properly. So when you get better, if you still want me to kiss you, then I will. Okay?”
Yunho blinked at him, as if turning the words over in his mind. After a few seconds, he gave a slow, satisfied nod.
But then, his eyes fluttered shut briefly before he peeked back up at Seonghwa with another request.
“I still want a kiss, though,” he murmured, “But I’ll settle for one on the forehead.”
Seonghwa exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with quiet amusement. “Greedy.”
Yunho didn’t deny it. Instead, he just nuzzled deeper into the pillow, his body already relaxing.
Seonghwa softened.
With an affectionate smile, he leaned in, pressing a warm, lingering kiss to Yunho’s forehead.
Yunho let out a quiet, content hum at the contact, the last of his tension melting away.
“Happy now?” Seonghwa teased, “Now, get some sleep, okay?”
Yunho didn’t argue this time. He simply sighed, settling deeper into the blankets as his breathing slowed.
Seonghwa stayed there for a moment, watching the way Yunho’s chest rose and fell, the way his lips parted slightly in sleep, the way his fingers twitched faintly against the fabric of the blanket.
And then, without thinking, he wrapped an arm around him, holding him just a little closer.
He won’t remember any of this, Seonghwa reminded himself.
But Seonghwa would.
And just for today, he let himself savor it. Pretending, for a little while longer, that they might become something more.
Four days later, the entire group was together again in the practice room running through choreography, and Seonghwa couldn’t help but steal glances at Yunho through the mirror as they danced.
Yunho had bounced back fast, his usual energy fully restored. If not for the mask he still wore, a precaution just in case, no one would have guessed he'd been miserably sick just days ago.
Seonghwa knew he should be focusing on the choreography, but his eyes had a mind of their own, trailing to Yunho's reflection in the mirror.
And that's when Yunho caught him.
Their eyes met, and Seonghwa could see the way Yunho's eyes crinkled at the corners, a telltale sign of a smile behind the mask.
Seonghwa, like a complete idiot, immediately looked away.
Too fast. Suspiciously fast.
God. He might as well have stamped I was staring at you across his forehead.
He doubted that Yunho remembered what they’d talked about, what he’d promised him, but ever since Yunho started feeling better, Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel awkward.
Because ever since that day, Seonghwa hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.
The fevered words Yunho had whispered to him, the warmth of his body curled into his, the way Seonghwa had promised: if you still want me to kiss you when you’re better, I will.
The fact that Yunho hadn’t mentioned it either meant that he didn’t remember it at all… or he did, and he wasn’t actually interested in Seonghwa like that.
And that thought sat heavy in Seonghwa’s chest.
Seonghwa also missed the way Yunho had clung to him when he was sick.
For the first two days, Yunho hadn’t let him leave his side for more than five minutes. He had reached for Seonghwa’s hand without hesitation, had fallen asleep curled into him like it was second nature.
And then… once he started feeling better, he started to pull away.
Seonghwa knew it was because he wasn’t delirious from fever anymore. That was the logical answer.
But a part of him, one that he knew was just as delirious as he’d thought Yunho was, wanted to believe it was because Yunho did remember. That maybe, just maybe, what he had confessed to Seonghwa was real, and now he was nervous.
Hadn’t he said that Yeosang and Mingi were trying to get him to confess before but he was too scared?
But if Yunho did remember… then it could also mean something worse. It could mean that his fever had made him say things he didn’t actually mean.
And that Seonghwa, foolish, desperate Seonghwa, had confessed things of his own that he couldn’t explain away with a fever.
“Let’s take five,” their instructor called out after a set. “Stay loose.”
The members immediately relaxed, gathering around the fan or spreading out to drink their water.
But Yunho... Yunho walked straight toward Mingi.
And the two of them began whispering about something.
Seonghwa told himself it meant nothing. Mingi was Yunho's best friend. They probably had a million things to talk about, none of which had to do with the completely unhinged, fever-induced confessions Yunho had made a few days ago.
So he was not going to sit here and overanalyze it.
That was the plan.
Until Mingi suddenly glanced in his direction.
Seonghwa stiffened.
Nope. He couldn’t do this. Not right now.
“I’m going to the restroom,” Seonghwa announced to the room, already turning on his heel. “Be right back.”
He walked down the hallway and stepped into the bathroom, letting the door swing shut behind him as he made a beeline for the sink.
Turning the tap on, he splashed cool water onto his face, inhaling deeply as he braced his hands against the counter.
He knew it was stupid to get his hopes up.
Yunho hadn’t even hinted at what they’d talked about days ago. He was fine, like nothing had happened. And maybe… maybe that was for the best. Maybe Seonghwa should let it go, too.
Sure, it was mildly frustrating that Seonghwa had only realized his feelings for Yunho four days ago. And it was even more frustrating that Yunho was the one who pushed him into that realization.
And, okay, yes, it was inconvenient that Seonghwa had come to the gut-wrenching conclusion, within those four days, that he was actually deeply in love with the man.
But obviously, he could just push all of that aside and go back to being friends with him.
No big deal.
Seonghwa exhaled, turning around to dry his hands on his sweats, mentally preparing himself to walk back into that practice room and prove just how not a big deal this was.
Then, the bathroom door swung open.
And in walked Yunho.
The door clicked shut behind him, sealing them into the quiet of the bathroom.
Seonghwa stiffened as Yunho lingered just inside the doorway, watching him. The air between them felt charged, far too heavy for such a small space.
Seonghwa reached for something to break the silence. ”Oh, hey,” he said, his voice carefully even.
“Hi,” Yunho said, tilting his head slightly, his face remaining unreadable behind the mask he still wore.
Seonghwa waited, expecting Yunho to head toward one of the urinals, or the sink, or to grab a paper towel, or to do anything to indicate he had an actual reason for being here.
But he didn’t.
He just stood there, watching him.
Then, slowly, Yunho reached up and pulled off his mask, revealing the soft curve of his lips as he smiled.
“I haven’t really gotten a chance to thank you for nursing me back to health yet.”
Seonghwa blinked, momentarily distracted—not by Yunho's lips, definitely not—before quickly schooling his expression. He let out a quiet breath, forcing himself to focus.
A small smile tugged at his lips, though there was an edge of nervousness behind it. "It's my fault you got sick in the first place. It was the least I could do."
Yunho’s smile widened, “Yeah, it was your fault, wasn’t it?”
Seonghwa huffed out a small laugh, and with it, the tight coil in his chest loosened just slightly.
And then, Yunho’s gaze softened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.
“I was really clingy, wasn’t I?” Yunho mused. “Thanks for putting up with me.”
Seonghwa stilled, a subtle tension locked into his shoulders, his mind catching onto the way Yunho said clingy. The way he said it like he remembered.
He forced himself to keep his expression neutral. “What are friends for?”
Yunho’s throat bobbed as he nodded. “Friends.”
His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment, as if he was considering something, but when they lifted back up to Seonghwa, he took a slow, deliberate step forward.
“And, are friends also supposed to make promises to their very sick friends,” Yunho murmured, closing the space between them, “and then never follow through on them?”
Seonghwa swore his heart stopped beating.
“…What?”
Yunho’s eyebrows lifted innocently, but there was something teasing behind his gaze.
”Did you think I would forget, hyung?”
Seonghwa opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Then, Yunho reached for his wrist. Just like he had all those days ago. Only this time, his grip was stronger.
His fingers traced the inside of Seonghwa’s wrist, barely-there touches that sent electricity buzzing up his arm.
Yunho smiled, and Seonghwa felt his breath catch as Yunho’s gaze flickered downward, straight to his lips.
“You promised me,” Yunho murmured, his voice quiet but firm, “that if I still wanted you to kiss me when I was better, you would.”
His thumb traced the inside of Seonghwa’s wrist again, slow and deliberate.
“And well… I do.”
Seonghwa couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Yunho wanted him to kiss him? That was real? That wasn’t some fever-induced delirium?
“You—“ Seonghwa’s mind struggled to wrap around it. “You remember?”
Yunho chuckled, the sound warm and knowing. “I remember everything.”
Seonghwa felt his face heat. He had said those words thinking Yunho wasn't even coherent.
And now, Yunho was standing in front of him, sane and clear-headed, asking him to follow through.
"Why didn't you... why haven't you said anything?" Seonghwa asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Because I wasn't sure if you were telling the truth," Yunho admitted. "Because you care about all of the members so much that you might say anything to get us to take care of ourselves."
Seonghwa's heart clenched. "...And now?"
Yunho inhaled, then let out a soft laugh. "Now, I've been going out of my mind wondering if you meant it." His grip on Seonghwa's wrist tightened slightly. "And well... you haven't told me no, so I'm thinking you did."
Seonghwa swallowed as his own gaze flickered to Yunho's lips.
He wanted nothing more than to close the space between them. To feel the press of Yunho’s lips against his own.
But wouldn't this complicate things? Wouldn't this make everything messy?
"Yunho," Seonghwa breathed, "we should get back to practice. It's been more than five minutes."
Yunho shifted, but didn't move away. If anything, he stepped even closer. His smile never faded.
He pointed to his lips. "Can you kiss me, hyung?"
Seonghwa's heart slammed into his ribs. "Yunho, this isn't a good idea."
Yunho grinned, failing at his attempt to pout like he had all those days ago. "Well, I'm not going back to practice then."
Seonghwa let out a quiet, frustrated laugh.
"You're impossible."
Yunho just tilted his head, allowing a thick silence to settle between them.
Then, finally, Seonghwa gave in, though he really didn’t have much of a resolve anyway.
He reached forward, hesitantly grasping Yunho's t-shirt and pulling him in. Their lips met in a kiss that started out slow, tentative, like neither of them could believe this was really happening. But the hesitation didn't last.
Because then Yunho's hands were on Seonghwa's waist, pulling him flush against him, deepening the kiss with a slow, aching deliberation that sent heat pooling in Seonghwa's stomach.
Seonghwa barely had a second to process before he was lifted, Yunho gripping his thighs and setting him onto the bathroom sink behind him.
Seonghwa gasped against his lips, but Yunho swallowed the sound, his hands sliding under the hem of his sweatshirt, pressing warm, steady palms against his skin.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Seonghwa knew they should stop. Knew that they should at least wait until after practice.
But then Yunho's teeth grazed his bottom lip, and Seonghwa forgot how to think entirely.
Their kisses grew deeper, messier, Seonghwa's fingers tangling in Yunho's hair as Yunho pressed him closer—
And then.
A knock at the door.
Seonghwa froze. Yunho groaned.
Before either of them could move, the door cracked open, and a very familiar face peeked in.
Mingi.
His eyes widened slightly. Then, his lips split into a wide grin.
"Jesus," Mingi drawled, clearly thrilled at what he had just walked in on. "I didn’t think you two would be going at it already. But, uh, congrats?"
Seonghwa turned bright red.
Yunho just laughed, resting their foreheads together.
Mingi stepped back, shaking his head. "I'll tell them you'll be another minute. But get back in there. We’re waiting on you."
As the door clicked shut again, Yunho let out a breathy chuckle.
Seonghwa groaned, letting his head fall against Yunho’s shoulder. “This is all your fault.”
Yunho grinned, finding Seonghwa’s chin and tilting it up until he could brush their lips together once more, “Didn’t you just say you’re the one who got me sick? I think that makes this your fault.”
Seonghwa rolled his eyes but didn’t move, feeling the warmth of Yunho’s hands trailing down his torso, his touch lingering on his skin. “That logic is completely flawed.”
Yunho hummed, clearly not listening, as he traced slow, absentminded circles against Seonghwa’s waist. “No, it’s not. In fact, I think you got me sick on purpose.”
Seonghwa snorted, “Oh? And why’s that?”
“Because,” Yunho murmured, his voice playful and teasing, “You fell madly in love with me and had to figure out a way to make me confess first.”
Seonghwa opened his mouth to protest—that was not true—but Yunho was already kissing him again, and suddenly, arguing didn’t feel all that important anymore.