Work Text:
When Youngjae opened the hotel room door, the first thing he saw was Dohoon lying across Jihoon’s bed, face down, his phone on the pillow blasting I Hate You by Woodz far too loudly. It looked odd at first, and concerning, but the way Dohoon was stretched out so comfortably made it seem like he belonged there, even if he clearly did not.
“What are you doing here?” Youngjae asked as he walked in and placed a bag of snacks on the small table. He sat down on one of the chairs, his eyes still on Dohoon.
Dohoon stayed still for a while, as if ignoring the question, then rolled over and flopped onto his back. His hair was messy, his expression lazy. “I got kicked out of my room. Hanjin has online classes.”
Youngjae nodded. That explained everything. He had seen Hanjin’s serious face before whenever lecture was involved.
“Where’s Jihoon?” Dohoon asked, patting around the bed until his fingers found his phone. He lowered the music a little.
“Out. We found a dance studio nearby and he rented it for a few hours to practice. You know how he is,” Youngjae said while digging through the plastic bag.
Dohoon hummed quietly, then closed his eyes. Youngjae opened a snack and chewed as he studied him. After a moment, he tilted his head. “You’re usually in Shinyu hyung’s room.”
“Correction. I’m only there when I’m dragged or when I’m needed,” Dohoon replied, groaning. The response made Youngjae laugh.
“You, on the other hand,” Dohoon continued, opening one eye and smirking, “have been very bold lately, Choi Youngjae. Are you afraid your little soulmate will give up on you because of your tsundere tendencies?”
Youngjae froze mid-laugh. The slice of watermelon he had been chewing caught in his throat, and he coughed before grabbing one of the gummies and tossing it at Dohoon’s chest. Dohoon laughed at once and muttered a playful “thanks” as he caught the gummy in his hand.
“I don’t have tsundere tendencies!” Youngjae said, his voice rising in protest. He believed it. At least, he wanted to believe it. He was normal. Completely normal.
“Sure,” Dohoon said while tearing open the candy pack and popping one into his mouth. “So what’s the score between you and Jihoonie?”
“Nothing!” Youngjae blurted out so quickly that his cheeks grew warm.
“You know I monitor our content, right?” Dohoon’s smirk widened.
Everyone knew Dohoon loved watching their clips and reading comments. He had tried stopping before, since it could be too much, but he always went back to it. Maybe that was why he was sitting here now, looking too pleased with himself.
“Fans say you’re more obsessed with Jihoon than he is with you,” Dohoon said, tilting his head and smiling.
“I am not!” Youngjae shouted back. “He’s clingy. I’m not like him.”
“Right. And it’s not like you remember exactly what he wrote for my birthday,” Dohoon teased.
“It’s all over the internet,” Youngjae argued. Which was true.
“You kept looking for Jihoon to hype you up even when someone else was standing right beside you on stage,” Dohoon said, his smile playful.
“He’s the best hype man,” Youngjae muttered. And he was. Nobody else could cheer for him the way Jihoon did.
“You also asked the makeup artists to draw a mole under your eye to match his,” Dohoon pointed out.
“I did not do it to match him. They just told me it would look good,” Youngjae shot back quickly.
“Junghwan says you don’t talk that much. But you stay up until morning talking with Jihoonie.” Dohoon finally turned off the music. His words were simple, but they carried more weight than before.
Youngjae shifted in his chair, uncomfortable. “So you’re back to calling him Junghwan now?” he asked, trying to change the subject. It was getting harder to ignore how true Dohoon’s words sounded.
“There’s even a video of you always trying to get his attention. It’s funny. And it’s cute, Youngjae-ya.” Dohoon sing-songed the last part, making Youngjae’s face heat up all over again, and ignoring Youngjae's failed attempt to divert the topic.
“Why would you even watch that?” Youngjae half-yelled, his voice cracking.
“I watch anything with my name on it. But in that video, Jihoon was paying attention to me, while you were right there trying every trick to get him to notice you,” Dohoon said softly. He leaned a little closer, his eyes searching Youngjae’s face.
“Tell me, Youngjae. Do you like him?”
It was not that Jihoon was unlikable in Youngjae’s eyes. If anything, Jihoon was one of the most important people in his life. It was just that the whole thing felt far too complicated. No, not complicated, exactly. Embarrassing was the better word. For so many years, Jihoon had been the one who pushed and clung and hovered, and Youngjae had always been the target of it. Dohoon too, sometimes, but Youngjae felt like he was the main victim, the one Jihoon just could not leave alone.
And now, things were different. Lately, Jihoon seemed to look for Dohoon more. He still teased Dohoon relentlessly and loudly declared his disgust, yet somehow he gravitated toward him in a way that made Youngjae’s chest tighten. With Youngjae, Jihoon still said the words of love and affection he always had, but it no longer felt like all of that was his alone to keep.
Maybe that was what made Youngjae restless. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he wanted more. He wanted Jihoon’s full attention, even if that was something impossible to ask for. They were six people in one team, all bound together, all deserving of each other’s care. Youngjae himself had been the one to insist he would divide his attention equally, that he would not choose favorites. So why was he sitting here, wishing Jihoon’s attention could be his and his only?
He looked over at Dohoon, who was still chewing gummies and watching him like he was reading a book that only he had the patience for. Youngjae sighed, trying to make sense of the turmoil inside him.
“I’m not sure if I want to commit,” he said at last, the words slipping out before he could think twice.
Dohoon’s eyebrows lifted, his smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as if Youngjae had just confessed something amusing. “I asked if you like him. I didn’t say anything about commitments, Choi Youngjae. Why’d you jump straight to relationships?” He laughed, but not in a cruel way, and somehow it didn’t irritate Youngjae as much as he expected. “If you’re already thinking that far, I’d say that’s a clear sign. You do like him, don’t you?”
Youngjae pressed his lips together, gaze falling toward the table where the snack bags lay half-open. His voice was quiet when he finally answered. “I don’t know.” He meant it. He really didn’t know. But then again, hadn’t he always thought of Jihoon as someone who felt like home? Hadn’t he once believed that maybe, just maybe, Jihoon could be his soulmate? They clicked so naturally, their thoughts and opinions sliding into place as though they had been shaped to match each other.
“I agree with what Junghwan said before,” Dohoon continued as his eyes wandered around the room, his tone softer now. “You laugh loudest when you’re with Jihoon. Or no… maybe it’s better to say you’re more yourself when you’re around him. You let yourself breathe easier.”
With that, Dohoon got up from the bed and headed into the bathroom. The sound of water running filled the pause, and Youngjae sat there with the weight of the words pressing on him. Dohoon was right. Around Jihoon, he did laugh louder. He did act more carefree. Maybe that was why he longed to have Jihoon’s attention all to himself. It made him feel lighter, more seen. But Jihoon’s signals were confusing, always pulling him close one moment and then leaning on Dohoon the next. The memory of Jihoon mumbling under anesthesia still stung. In that half-conscious state, when honesty should have slipped out, Jihoon had called out not for him, but for Dohoon.
Dohoon returned a moment later, wiping his damp hands against his pants. “For an ISTJ, you think too much and too loud too,” he said easily as he walked back. “Don’t drag me into this. Everyone already knows how I got rejected by Junghwan. You don’t need to worry about me and Jihoon.”
The bluntness caught Youngjae off guard. His head snapped up, his eyes wide. Was it really so obvious what he was thinking? Heat crept up the back of his neck.
“You weren’t rejected, though,” Youngjae said quickly. He blinked, then realized he had just stepped into something he had promised himself he would avoid. Still, it was the only way he could think of to steer the conversation away from his own feelings.
“That’s what he told you all?” Dohoon asked, his tone unreadable.
Youngjae nodded.
“Wow. That was years ago,” Dohoon said with a small huff of laughter, though his eyes didn’t match the sound. “He probably doesn’t even remember. He’s not the type to remember things about me anyway.”
Youngjae wanted to ask what that meant. He wanted to press further, to dig into the edges of the sadness he heard buried beneath those words. But he knew if he asked, Dohoon would only shrug it off and change the subject. So instead, he stayed quiet, and the silence stretched between them.
Dohoon crossed the room again and dropped himself onto Jihoon’s bed with a soft thump, lying back as though he owned the space. His voice was calmer now, more serious. “I don’t really know what Jihoon feels. He avoids my questions every time, makes a joke out of it, or says something ridiculous. But one thing I know for sure, Youngjae, is that you don’t need to be afraid of me. I’m not standing in your way. I would if you have any intention to hurt him, but if you're thinking of me getting romantically involved with THAT? Don't you think that's quite… eh?”
“How do you two even do it?” Youngjae asked, his tone heavy with curiosity, but also the kind of hesitance that came when he knew he was prying a little too much.
Dohoon, who had been scrolling idly on his phone, didn’t even look up. “Huh?”
“You and Shinyu hyung,” Youngjae pressed, leaning forward on his chair like he was trying to drag the truth out by posture alone. “You guys had that cold war for, what, half a year? You didn’t even look at each other. But before that you were inseparable, and then suddenly you weren’t. Then one day we get told we’re debuting, and boom, you two are fine again. How does that work?”
The question had been sitting on Youngjae’s tongue for years. Everyone in the team knew about the rift between Shinyu and Dohoon during their trainee days. One moment Shinyu was practically walking Dohoon to his classes like a shadow that carried snacks, and the next, they were passing each other in the hallways like strangers. The air back then had been thick with tension. For people who used to be a 1+1 deal, it was painful to watch them turn into a 0+0. And if Youngjae was being honest, what he feared most was that the same thing might one day happen between him and Jihoon.
Dohoon stilled. His thumb stopped flicking across the screen. After a moment, he placed his phone flat against his chest and let out a sigh that felt heavier than the moment called for.
“So that's what's scaring you, huh? Work and personal feelings will, and should, always be separate,” Dohoon finally said, his voice calm but with that firm edge he sometimes had when he was being the most serious version of himself. He picked his phone back up and stared at it again like he hadn’t just dropped a truth bomb in the middle of the room. “We had no choice. We had one goal. To debut. Be successful. Why would we let personal feelings ruin that?”
Youngjae nodded slowly. That was what he admired most about Dohoon. He was chaos, yes, and sometimes he was as reckless as Jihoon, but underneath all that noise, Dohoon had this steady maturity. He had said in interviews before that he adjusted how he treated others depending on their age, but Youngjae knew it went deeper than that. Dohoon had been a trainee for seven years. He had seen people come and go, friends packing their dreams into boxes and leaving while he stayed. He had survived long enough to know how to separate the personal from the professional, even when it hurt.
“And Jihoon would never let that happen to you two,” Dohoon added, his eyes flicking up from his phone to study Youngjae. “He isn’t like that. Why are you even scared of that kid?”
Youngjae let out a small laugh, but it wasn’t really funny. He wasn’t scared of Jihoon. He was scared of himself. Of how he felt, of how Jihoon might feel, of what would happen if everything went wrong. Normally he didn’t overthink like this, but this was different. This was Jihoon. If something broke between them, it would not just sting, it would change everything.
“So… do you like him?” Dohoon asked, lounging across one of the beds, phone in hand as he scrolled through social media. The soft hotel room light caught the glint in his eyes, and his tone carried that easy, teasing edge he always had.
Youngjae sat stiffly, fingers nervously tracing the rim of the container of his food. His thoughts swirled faster than he could follow, a storm of feelings he hadn’t fully unpacked yet. He kept his gaze on the floor for a long moment, as if the carpet itself might offer some clarity.
“It’s not like I don’t… like him,” Youngjae murmured, voice quiet, almost shy, but layered with something deeper—confusion, maybe, or a reluctant admission.
Dohoon laughed, the sound warm and teasing, and Youngjae felt that familiar prick of annoyance that always came when Dohoon made him feel exposed. Before he could react, Dohoon started singing—softly at first, then louder—Jungkook’s Yes or No, letting the playful rhythm fill the space between the beds.
“Are you feeling the rush? If so, then I think I know what’s going on… And are we falling in love, say yes or n—”
“I am not in love!” Youngjae cut him off, cheeks flaming and ears burning. He stared at the floor, as if the words themselves embarrassed him. “Jihoon is… Jihoon is annoying. He’s… the most annoying person I’ve ever met. And you—you’ll probably be number one if you keep singing like that.”
Dohoon laughed again, sitting up, and leaning back against the headboard, letting the sound fill the room. Youngjae couldn’t help but laugh too, a little helplessly, the tension easing slightly.
“I just—he’s annoying,” Youngjae muttered, hands tightening in his lap.
“You’ve said that a thousand times,” Dohoon said dryly, though a hint of a smile tugged at his lips.
“Because he is! He’s annoying when he clings. When he runs up to me, calling my name like I’m the only person in the world. When he grins that wide, stupid grin every time he sees me. And he’s… annoyingly good at everything—dancing, singing… even just existing!” Youngjae’s voice trembled slightly, the confession spilling out before he could stop it. “It’s maddening. And I don’t know what to do about it.”
Dohoon tilted his head, studying him, amusement softening into curiosity. “You’re good at everything too. I’m good at everything too. He’s not special. Do you like me then?”
Youngjae froze, his heart thudding. “Gross! Hell no! I like you but… not like that. Not like him.”
“Not like what?” Dohoon pressed gently, leaning forward a little, voice careful now.
“Not like him,” Youngjae said, almost defeated, lowering his gaze to the floor again.
Dohoon’s eyes softened, no teasing in them this time. “So… what’s the difference between liking me and liking him?”
Youngjae’s chest tightened. He knew Dohoon wasn’t asking for fun. He wanted answers. He needed answers, even if it hurt to speak them aloud.
“He… he makes me feel things,” Youngjae admitted, voice trembling slightly. “All those… annoying things, every single one of them. And he still makes me feel… things I can’t control. He gets me, in ways I don’t even understand myself. And it’s… it’s painfully happy. Like… like it hurts, but it’s the kind of hurt that makes everything else feel alive.”
The room fell silent, the quiet hum of the air conditioner filling the space. Dohoon leaned back, letting the weight of Youngjae’s words sink in, waiting patiently.
“So… what does that mean, Choi Youngjae?”
He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to argue, maybe to admit something, when the door swung open so hard it slammed against the wall.
Jihoon walked in with a duffel bag hanging off one shoulder and a plastic bag of snacks in his hand. He was sweaty, hair stuck to his forehead, eyes shining from exertion. The door closed behind him with a loud thud, and Dohoon groaned from the sudden noise like an old man woken up from a nap. Youngjae, meanwhile, laughed without meaning to.
“What are you doing here?” Jihoon asked, his voice carrying that natural cheer it always did. He dropped his duffel bag to the floor and sauntered toward them. “I just saw Shinyu hyung and Kyungmin on their way out.”
He plopped into the chair beside Youngjae, scanning the table like a child searching for treasure. His face lit up. “Oh! I bought snacks too. Thought you’d be hungry.”
Youngjae smiled despite himself. That was the thing about Jihoon. He always included him. Even in little things like buying snacks, Jihoon always thought of him first. It was small, but it meant everything.
Dohoon, however, raised his brows. “And what do you want me to do with that information? Go chase after them?”
“I just thought you’d be with them since you’re always hanging out with them lately,” Jihoon replied, tossing the plastic bag onto the table. “That cute little family you’ve got going on.”
Dohoon made a face and crossed his arms. “I only go when I’m invited. I’m not about to shove myself in where I don’t belong.”
“Kyungmin was literally looking for you earlier. Did you not check the group chat?” Jihoon asked, his tone somewhere between annoyed and amused.
Dohoon’s eyes narrowed. “Me and Youngjae were busy until you barged in.” His voice carried mock accusation, but it was enough to make Youngjae nearly choke on a laugh. He really loved it whenever Dohoon and Jihoon bicker.
Jihoon gasped, pressing a hand to his chest like Dohoon had just accused him of treason. Then, with the dramatics only Jihoon could pull off, he clung to Youngjae’s arm. “Are you trying to steal him from me?”
Dohoon stared at Jihoon, his face twisting with disgust so exaggerated that it looked like he was about to throw up. Without another word, he stood, grabbed his phone, and headed for the door.
“I’ll get coffee with Hanjin,” he announced, his tone flat, before pulling the door open and slipping out. The door shut behind him with a click, leaving the room suddenly too quiet.
Youngjae looked at the closed door, then turned to Jihoon, who was still wrapped around his arm like a child refusing to let go of a favorite toy. He scrunched his nose and pushed him away. “Go shower first. You’re sweaty.”
Jihoon leaned back in his chair, grinning with pride rather than shame. “Of course I am! That’s the fruit of my hard work!” He grabbed Youngjae’s cheeks between his fingers and pinched until Youngjae yelped, unable to dodge in time.
True to Dohoon’s words, Jihoon really did take the longest showers. By the time the bathroom door opened, Youngjae had already finished his food, cleaned up the table, and was lounging on his phone. He looked up just in time to see Jihoon stepping out with his hair still damp, the tips curling against his forehead. Jihoon frowned the moment his eyes landed on the cleared table, where only the snacks he had bought earlier remained untouched.
“You didn’t wait for me?” Jihoon asked, his tone carrying the weight of a pout.
Youngjae couldn’t help but laugh, setting his phone down. “I was going to, but you took too long. Maybe you should take Dohoon’s advice and stop scrolling through your phone in the bathroom.” He smiled as he said it, his voice light, teasing.
Jihoon let out a little huff, the kind that made him look even younger than he was, before flopping into the chair beside Youngjae. He leaned forward and began rummaging through his snack bag, unbothered by the fact that Youngjae had stolen the tidiness of their table. After a moment, he pulled out a fruit sandwich and placed it in Youngjae’s hands without a word, as though he had planned it from the start.
“What did you and Dohoon even talk about?” Jihoon asked casually, his eyes focused on peeling the lid off his bento box.
Youngjae bit the inside of his cheek, the plastic crinkling as he opened the sandwich carefully. He thought about how much Dohoon had pried into his feelings earlier, how much he himself had admitted without meaning to, and decided to soften the truth. “Nothing much. I just got nosy about him and Shinyu hyung.” That part was true enough, even if it wasn’t the whole story. “Do you think Dohoon has moved on already?”
Jihoon had already stuffed his mouth with food, his cheeks puffed out in a way that made Youngjae stare a little longer than he should. He looked like a squirrel caught mid-hoard, yet still managed to shake his head. The gesture was unsurprising to Youngjae. If anyone was hard to let go of, it was Shinyu, and Dohoon’s feelings had always been too obvious.
After swallowing, Jihoon spoke with his eyes still fixed on the bento. “He told me he doesn’t really get the chance to, so he just learned how to deal with it. It’s kind of sad, if you think about it. But I’m trying to be a good roommate for him. Shinyu hyung says something different, though, so I don’t really know what’s going to happen with those two. Let’s just hope whatever Kyungmin is plotting works.”
Youngjae nodded. He had no intention of meddling in that mess. Shinyu and Dohoon were complicated, maybe too complicated. They were so similar on the surface but in some ways, far too different underneath. That mix was dangerous.
Jihoon, still nibbling, spoke again as if thinking out loud. “I blame Shinyu hyung for sending mixed signals. Or maybe it’s not even mixed signals. Maybe he’s just being himself. Maybe he just doesn’t see Dohoon the way Dohoon sees him. But why would he act like that around Dohoonie though? As if he wanted something and then nothing at the same time.” His words trailed, then he suddenly turned, catching Youngjae off guard with his sudden smile. He reached out and brushed his thumb across Youngjae’s cheek. “You’re kind of a messy eater sometimes, Youngjae hyung.”
Youngjae froze at the touch, then scrunched his nose and swatted his hand away, pulling a face. “You should’ve just told me.”
Jihoon tilted his head, unbothered by the rejection, and replied with a grin that carried far too much ease. “But isn’t it more romantic if I do it for you?”
There it was again. That easy way Jihoon had of tossing out words that hit far too close to the heart. He had just finished calling Shinyu confusing, but Jihoon was no better. Did he even realize how much his words twisted Youngjae’s chest? Maybe it really was fate that Youngjae and Dohoon were stuck dealing with people who were impossible to read.
“Do you even know anything about being romantic?” Youngjae asked, raising a brow as though challenging him.
Jihoon laughed, his shoulders shaking, then placed a hand on his chest with a look of exaggerated pride. “Of course I do! I’ve been researching.”
Youngjae blinked. “Why are you even researching that?” His tone was more confused than mocking. Their next comeback had nothing to do with romance. It wasn’t for the concept. Was it for the fans?
Jihoon’s answer was nothing but typical Jihoon. “Because I need to beat Shinyu hyung! He’s been stealing you from me lately without even trying. I can’t let that happen.”
Youngjae let out a snort, shaking his head as he returned his attention to his sandwich. “You’re so stupid.”
“I don’t mind, as long as it works.” Jihoon’s words came out simple, almost careless, but they landed heavier than he probably realized. For just a second, Youngjae’s heart stumbled over itself. He knew Jihoon probably wasn’t serious, not in the way that counted, but it was impossible not to hope.
Before he could stop himself, Youngjae muttered, “I thought you were doing it for someone else.” The words slipped past his lips before he could snatch them back, his mind-to-mouth filter failing him completely.
Jihoon’s grin widened instantly, smug and mischievous. “Is my Guinea Guinea jealous?” His laugh filled the room before he leaned back and added, “Don’t worry. The whole world already knows I’m your soulmate. You claimed it in front of the cameras, remember?” His laugh softened into something fonder. “I looked so awkward in that video though. I didn’t even know what to say. Especially coming from you, it was… shocking. And you even looked excited.”
Youngjae thought back to that behind-the-scenes video again, the one that had been replayed far too many times in the practice room. He had been so caught up in talking about how much he enjoyed rooming with Jihoon, how it felt like he had found his soulmate, that he never even noticed Jihoon’s reaction beside him. Not until the video came out, and Dohoon’s loud, annoying laugh had echoed through the room while Jihoon sat there red-faced, trying to hide behind his hands as everyone teased them.
“I don’t really like lying, so…” Youngjae mumbled now, trying to defend himself, though even he knew it was a weak defense. Still, he figured Jihoon would accept it anyway, the way he always did with Youngjae’s half-hearted excuses.
The room settled into a comfortable silence for a moment, broken only by the faint crinkle of snack wrappers and the soft hum of the AC. Youngjae’s mind, however, kept circling back to something Jihoon had said earlier.
“What did you mean by having to beat Shinyu hyung?” Youngjae finally asked, curiosity lacing his tone.
Jihoon laughed at that, the kind of laugh that always came before something ridiculous. He reached out and patted Youngjae’s head as if he were a kid. “You’re cute, hyung,” he said, his grin widening. “Unfortunately, Dohoonie has seen way too many romantic edits of you and Shinyu hyung. So, I’m being a good roommate and eliminating the threat myself. Claiming the threat, if you will.”
Youngjae blinked at him, utterly dumbfounded. Of course this all came from Dohoon being chronically online again. He always told Dohoon that diving too deep into fans’ edits and posts would only hurt him eventually, but Dohoon never listened. And now here they were, with Jihoon declaring “elimination of threats” as though it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Wait—does he actually think of me as a threat?” Youngjae asked, brows furrowed.
Jihoon shook his head, still chewing. “Not really. He just shows me those edits and says the most absurd things. Stuff like, ‘Youngjae and Junghwan look like a married couple,’ or ‘Youngjae and Junghwan have perfect husband vibes.’ Blah, blah.” Jihoon rolled his eyes dramatically before adding, “As if Shinyu hyung hasn’t already been out there wearing Dohoon’s clothes in public and posting about it everywhere. Embarrassing.”
Youngjae pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. He had sworn he wouldn’t get dragged into the tangled mess that was Shinyu and Dohoon, but somehow, the universe was forcing him into it anyway.
Jihoon, however, looked oddly triumphant. “That’s why I’m going to be the best roommate ever. I’ll claim you as mine so that puppy doesn’t keep hurting himself on purpose. It’s a win for me too. I get you.” He nodded to himself, as though he hadn’t just said the most absurd thing with full confidence.
“Why do you keep saying things like that?” Youngjae asked, eyes fixed on the crumpled plastic bag on the table instead of Jihoon’s face.
“Saying what?” Jihoon tilted his head, feigning innocence.
“That you’d claim me. Like I didn’t tell you all that—”
“That you’d divide your attention equally among every member. Yeah, I know.” Jihoon cut him off smoothly, without missing a beat.
“Then why?” Youngjae asked again, this time forcing himself to look straight at Jihoon.
Jihoon’s smile softened, just a little. “Because I want you for myself,” he said simply. “I don’t like being selfish. I try to give everything I can to everyone. But you… I can’t share you. I won't share you.”
Youngjae’s chest tightened. He thought about himself being selfish too.. selfish of Jihoon. “But why?” he asked once more, his voice quieter now.
“Because you feel like the plot twist I never knew I needed.” Jihoon’s tone was lighter than his words, but there was something steady beneath it. “Being with you feels easy. The good kind of easy.”
Youngjae felt heat crawl up his neck, his ears burning as his mind scrambled for a response. He wasn’t sure he even understood everything Jihoon was saying, but each word left him more flustered than the last.
Jihoon rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze shifting as he continued. “Like when we stay up talking until morning, or when you laugh at every dumb thing I do. Even when you try to push me away, you always frown if I actually pull back. At first, you were impossible to read. But lately… you’ve been letting everything show. It's cute. You're cute.”
Dohoon’s words from earlier echoed in Youngjae’s head—how obvious he had been during the tour, how his feelings weren’t exactly subtle anymore. The videos released didn’t help either, showing him hovering around Jihoon, chasing after him like gravity itself. He had even seen the fans’ comments, pointing out how close they’d grown, how Youngjae seemed to be the one seeking Jihoon more these days.
Overwhelmed, Youngjae quickly covered his face with his hands, groaning into them. He could practically feel the tips of his ears glowing red.
“Okay, stop being cute!” Jihoon whined in mock offense, his voice bubbling with playful laughter. “That’s unfair! Are you really trying to make me fall for you more?”
Youngjae refused to uncover his face. He didn’t know how to respond to any of this. He had been denying his feelings for so long, maybe because some part of him had been waiting for Jihoon to be the first to know. Or maybe it was because he was terrified of putting a name to what he felt, afraid that if Jihoon didn’t feel the same, their bond would break beyond repair.
But now Jihoon had all but confessed, calling him a “plot twist” and making Youngjae’s heart race in a way that was impossible to ignore. He was cornered in the sweetest way possible, and he hated how much he loved it.
“Don’t worry,” Jihoon added, his voice lighter now, teasing again. “If you’re scared the members might whine about you giving me too much attention, I’ll gladly let them. As long as I get to be smug about you being mine.” His laughter filled the room, warm and bright.
That finally made Youngjae snap his head up, smacking Jihoon lightly on the arm, though the corners of his mouth betrayed him with a smile he was fighting to hide. “You’re so full of yourself. You don’t even know if I feel the same way.”
“Sure, sure,” Jihoon said airily, pushing back his chair. “So it’s fine if I cling onto Dohoonie then? Suit yourself.” He started to rise, mischief painted across his face.
Youngjae didn’t think. His hand shot out on instinct, fingers wrapping around Jihoon’s arm to pull him back into his seat. Jihoon’s grin stretched wide immediately, his eyes glinting with victory.
“Possessive, aren’t we, mister Choi Youngjae?” he teased, leaning closer.
Youngjae rolled his eyes, forcing himself to push Jihoon back just enough to create space. “I’m not possessive. You’re just… annoying.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying him.
Jihoon laughed, the sound bright and maddening, before poking Youngjae’s cheek with his finger. “Annoying, huh? Then why can’t you stop looking at me like that?”
“I’m not looking at you like anything!” Youngjae shot back, but his face was already burning. He hated how Jihoon always seemed to know when he was flustered, hated even more how Jihoon seemed to enjoy it.
Jihoon tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “So if I sat closer to you right now, you wouldn’t mind?” He scooted his chair just an inch nearer, eyes never leaving Youngjae’s.
Youngjae’s breath caught. “You cling to me nonstop. There's nothing new about that!”
“Closer?” Jihoon moved again, this time brushing his knee against Youngjae’s.
“Jihoon.” Youngjae’s warning sounded weak, and he knew it. His hand was still resting on Jihoon’s arm, but instead of pushing him away, his grip just loosened, almost as if he was still holding him there.
Jihoon’s grin softened into something else, something that felt both playful and serious all at once. “You can push me away, you know,” he said quietly. “You always say I’m clingy, but you never really push me away. Not for real. I won't really get upset if you do.. Okay, maybe I will… for a bit.”
Youngjae opened his mouth to argue, but the words got stuck in his throat. He thought of all the times Jihoon had wrapped himself around him, all the moments on stage where Jihoon’s hand found his shoulder, his arm, his waist, how he would just naturally lay on top of Youngjae when they're back in the dorms on the bed. He thought of the way he never really shook Jihoon off, how sometimes he even leaned into it.
“I don’t…” Youngjae started, but his voice trailed off. His hand slipped from Jihoon’s arm to his wrist instead, holding on loosely.
Jihoon watched him carefully, his playful smile still there but gentler now, less of a tease and more of an invitation. “So which is it, hyung? Do you want me close, or do you want me to back off?”
The question lingered, heavier than it had any right to be. Youngjae knew Jihoon was still being playful, still hiding behind his usual jokes, but there was a weight underneath. A weight that made Youngjae’s chest tighten in both fear and longing.
He let out a shaky breath, cheeks still red, and finally muttered, “Just… don’t be so smug about it.”
Jihoon’s laughter burst out again, but this time it wasn’t loud or mocking. It was warm, almost relieved, like he had just won a game he’d been playing for a long time. “No promises,” he said softly, leaning just a little closer so their shoulders touched.
Youngjae groaned, burying his face in his hands again, but he didn’t move away. Not even a little.
Jihoon stayed pressed against Youngjae’s shoulder for a while, humming a little tune under his breath like nothing in the world was wrong, like he hadn’t just turned Youngjae inside out with his words. Youngjae peeked at him through the gaps in his fingers, groaning when Jihoon caught him looking.
“You’re impossible,” Youngjae muttered, finally dropping his hands.
“And you’re stuck with me,” Jihoon replied with that ridiculous grin of his, but the sharpness of the moment had already begun to soften, like a fire cooling into embers.
The room fell into a quieter rhythm after that. Youngjae nudged Jihoon’s knee with his own before standing, gathering up the empty wrappers and bottles left scattered on the table. Jihoon watched for a moment, then sighed dramatically and got up to help, scooping up the half-crushed snack bags that had fallen onto the floor.
“You know,” Jihoon said while stuffing things back into the plastic bag, “this is very domestic of us. Roommates who clean together, stay together. Do you think Shinyu hyung would accept it if I ask him to exchange rooms with me?”
Youngjae rolled his eyes but his lips betrayed him with a faint smile. “You really don’t shut up, do you? I don't think Dohoon would love that though.”
“Not when I’ve got you listening,” Jihoon shot back, dropping the bags by the door. “Also, let them be. They're older than us. They can solve their problems themselves.”
Youngjae shook his head, amused despite himself. It wasn’t anything grand, just the two of them clearing up a messy table, Jihoon cracking silly jokes while Youngjae tried not to laugh too hard. But there was something comforting about it, like this was the kind of simple, ordinary thing they could keep forever without fear of it breaking.
When the table was finally cleared and the lights dimmed, both of them moved almost in sync toward their beds. Jihoon threw himself onto his with a loud sigh, sprawled out like he owned the whole mattress. Youngjae, ever the quieter one at night, slid under his own blanket with a soft exhale, the tension from earlier still buzzing faintly in his chest.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The only sound was Jihoon shifting to get comfortable, the faint rustle of sheets, the hum of the hotel AC. Youngjae stared up at the ceiling, listening, waiting.
And then Jihoon’s voice broke the silence, softer this time, without any of his usual playfulness. “Hyung,” he murmured, as though the word itself was fragile, “don’t overthink too much. I like where we are right now.”
Youngjae’s heart thumped hard, but he didn’t reply right away. Instead, he closed his eyes, pulling his blanket up to his chin. Jihoon’s words lingered in the dark, warm and steady, like a secret promise that didn’t need anything else added.
Still, Youngjae found himself whispering, barely loud enough for Jihoon to hear, “Me too.”
Jihoon hummed in satisfaction, turning onto his side. “Good. Then sleep well, hyung.”
The quiet deepened once their voices faded, like the hotel room had finally taken a breath it had been holding all night. Jihoon shifted again, this time quieter, settling into his pillow with the faint rustle of sheets. Youngjae, still staring at the ceiling, let the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile he didn’t dare show while Jihoon was watching.
He could feel the warmth lingering between their beds, not close enough to touch, but enough to remind him that Jihoon was there, steady and loud. The earlier whirlwind of teasing and confessions swirled through Youngjae’s head, making his chest feel too tight and too light all at once. He pressed his face into his pillow, muffling a groan.
On the other side of the room, Jihoon’s breathing evened out. It wasn’t long before the rhythm of it grew steady, soft, and comforting. The kind of sound Youngjae had gotten used to without realizing. The kind of sound that told him Jihoon was already gone, deep in sleep, unbothered by the weight of what he’d just said.
Youngjae turned on his side, facing Jihoon’s bed even though the dark kept him from seeing much. His hand slipped out from under the blanket, curling loosely in the space between them as if reaching just a little closer might close the gap. He whispered into the quiet, voice so soft it was meant only for himself.
“I don't know when it happened or when it started, but somehow, you became the person I wanted to tell things to first, Jihoon.”
The words floated in the dark, unanswered. Jihoon snored lightly a second later, completely unaware.
Youngjae laughed silently into his pillow, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all, before finally letting his eyes close. And with Jihoon’s steady breathing in the background, the tension in his chest eased, replaced with a quiet warmth that followed him as he drifted off to sleep.
They slept like that—close but not touching, quiet but full—until the night carried them both into the same unspoken dream.
.
.
.
“Hyung! Wake up! If I tell the others you’re mine now, do you think they’ll get jealous?”
“Jihoon, be quiet. Get off me. And no, they’ll just think you’re obsessed.”
"True. But, according to Dohoonie, you're more into me than I am into you.”
Dohoon's right, but that'd be something Youngjae will never say out loud.