Archive of Our Own

🐧🧸

Huening Kai is supposed to be asleep.

Instead, he is on his back in bed, duvet kicked down around his knees, phone held inches from his face like it might physically crawl inside his ribcage if he lets it. The dorm room is dark except for the glow of his screen and the occasional notification ping that sends his heart doing a little, stupid jump.

Beomgyu. Beomgyu again. Beomgyu, but smiling. Beomgyu, but laughing with his head tipped back. Beomgyu, but walking a red carpet like he owns the world and also looks like he would trip over it if someone startled him.

Kai lets out a sound that is frankly undignified and shoves his face into his pillow for half a second before resurfacing, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt.

Tokyo looks amazing on Beomgyu. The black and white backdrop of Hello Kitty’s Picnic Garden makes him glow, the contrasting colours framing sharp eyes and that stupidly pretty mouth. Kai taps like on every single photo he sees, double tapping so aggressively his phone almost slips out of his hand. He scrolls, squeals quietly, rolls onto his side, then onto his stomach, kicking his feet against the mattress like he is fifteen and has just discovered crushes for the first time.

He hugs his pillow to his chest and stares at the screen, eyes wide and shining.

How is he real? How does he exist like this? How am I in a group with him? 

Another photo loads, and Kai’s breath actually catches.

Beomgyu is mid-step on the red carpet, smiling wide and a little crooked, his hand wrapped around the black velvet glove of the Hello Kitty mascot. The contrast is absurd and perfect all at once: Beomgyu’s long fingers half-swallowed by plush fabric, his shoulders relaxed like he belongs there, like this is the most natural thing in the world.

“Ugh,” he whispers, reverent and completely gone.

He stares at their joined hands far longer than is reasonable. Something warm and fizzy blooms in his chest, spreading fast enough that he has to squirm, clutching his pillow tighter like it might keep him grounded. His brain, traitor that it is, supplies a new image without asking permission.

It is him instead of the mascot. Him in something tailored, fingers threaded through Beomgyu’s as they walk the red carpet together. Kai imagines the weight of Beomgyu’s hand in his, the way Beomgyu would glance down and laugh, teasing him for waving too much or tripping over his own feet. He imagines leaning closer, shoulder to shoulder, close enough that the cameras catch it and everyone sees how right they look together.

Kai squeaks and buries half his face in his pillow, legs kicking helplessly.

“Get a grip,” he mutters, muffled. “How are you literally getting jealous of Hello Kitty?”

He peeks back at the photo anyway.

Beomgyu looks so happy. Like Tokyo has been kind to him, like the lights and the picnic set were made just for him. Kai snorts softly, shaking his head at himself.

How has he survived this?

Seven years. Seven whole years of this feeling, of liking Beomgyu in quiet ways and loud ones, of watching him grow into himself more and more with every comeback, every stage, every year. It feels unfair, honestly. Every year Beomgyu somehow gets handsomer, sharper, warmer all at once, like he is levelling up.

“My heart can’t take this,” Kai whispers dramatically, flopping back onto his mattress and staring at the ceiling.

He presses his phone to his chest, the glow still warm through the case, and laughs at himself. A helpless, fond little sound. Because really, what is he supposed to do about it? He has been in love with his bandmate for nearly a decade, and instead of getting over it, it has only gotten worse.

Kai rolls onto his side again, thumb flicking idly as he opens Twitter, not his main account, obviously. He swaps to the private one, the carefully curated fan account with a Beomgyu related username, a Beomgyu header from three eras ago, and a bio that simply reads moa bamtori♡. It is, objectively, a little pathetic that he owns this account, but also objectively necessary.

He scrolls slowly, liking everything. Retweeting a few especially unhinged posts. Then he scrolls until a tweet catches his attention.

A thread header flashes past his screen, bold and eye-catching, the kind that makes people stop whether they want to or not. Kai’s thumb slows.

TXT SHIP POPULARITY RANK

All capital letters. Clean graphics. A neat banner featuring the group, pastel colours, carefully chosen fonts.

Kai squints.

“Huh,” he murmurs, curiosity pricking at him despite himself.

He taps it.

The thread opens, and Kai barely glances at the intro tweet explaining engagement metrics, votings, and percentages. He scrolls immediately, uninterested in the general rankings. He knows where his priorities lie.

“Beomgyu ships,” he mutters, already flicking past the first few tweets.

There.

BEOMGYU SHIPS

Kai straightens automatically, chest puffing out as if his body already knows what it expects to see. Of course Beomkai is first. Obviously. It has to be. They are cute, they are close, they have history, they have vibes. He is already mentally preparing to feel smug.

The graphic loads.

Kai freezes.

He blinks once.

Then again.

He sits up so fast the duvet slides down his legs, phone held out in front of him like it might bite.

Soogyu — 36%
Beomjun — 35%
Taegyu — 20%
Beomkai — 9%

Nine percent.

Nine.

Kai rubs his eyes with his free hand, dragging his palm down his face and blinking hard before looking again.

The numbers do not change.

“What,” he says flatly.

Nine percent.

Single digits.

He stares at the column chart, offended in a way that feels deeply personal, like someone has insulted his family. His pride. His entire existence. What do you mean Beomkai is the only one in single digits? What do you mean it is dead last.

“Are they insane?” Kai asks his empty room, voice climbing. “Do they not have eyes? Do they not see us together?”

He scrolls back up, thumb jerky, eyes narrowing as the full graphic comes back into view.

Soogyu sits right at the top, smug little bar stretching higher than the rest, hogging over a third of the votes like it personally knows what it’s doing. Beomjun trails just barely behind it, the difference so small it feels insulting. Thirty six percent. Thirty five. A hair’s breadth between them, locked in some eternal, irritating rivalry.

And then there’s him. Nine.

Kai lets out a sound halfway between a scoff and a wounded laugh. “Unbelievable.”

Soogyu…

Of course it’s Soogyu.

He stares at the name like it has personally betrayed him. All those years of living together, of being soft and close and comfortable, and this is how Soobin repays him? Whatever happened to being each other’s gum?

“Traitor,” Kai mutters darkly, glaring at the screen. He imagines Soobin’s stupid fond smiles, the way he and Beomgyu naturally drift together like magnets, their natural chemistry making them absolutely shippable. The audacity of it all makes Kai’s chest burn. Kai, too, has amazing chemistry with Beomgyu, thank you very much!

Without thinking, he switches apps again.

KakaoTalk opens. Soobin’s chat is right there near the top, innocent and unassuming.

soobin hyung is terrible

fuck you.

He sends it with feeling.

He barely has time to toss his phone onto the bed before it buzzes again.

soobin hyung is terrible

what happened to hello??? how are you???
what i do????
is that any way to speak to your leader!!!!
yah!!!!

He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t need to. The universe, apparently, has decided this is a confrontation kind of night. A few seconds later, he hears it. Footsteps in the hallway. Familiar ones. 

The door opens.

Soobin stands there, one hand on the doorframe, expression tight with confusion and mild annoyance. His foot taps against the floor, once, twice, a quiet metronome of judgement. He looks like someone who has been wronged, which somehow makes everything worse.

“Mind explaining your text?” Soobin asks.

Kai reacts immediately, hissing like a cornered cat. “Go away, I hate you.”

Soobin blinks. “Excuse me?”

“I said go away,” Kai repeats, rolling onto his side and tugging his blanket up to his chin and putting his arm over his eyes like a dramatic Victorian child. “I’m grieving.”

“Grieving what,” Soobin asks flatly.

“You wouldn’t understand!” Kai snaps. 

Soobin stares at him for a long moment, then exhales through his nose. “Are you in one of your negative Kai moods?”

Kai groans loudly and kicks the mattress.

“Okay,” Soobin says, already stepping back. “Fine. Whatever. Talk to me when you’re back to being angel Kai.”

He closes the door behind him with a soft but final click. Kai lies there, fuming. He drags his blanket down and sits up again, hair a mess, phone clutched tightly in his hand. He opens Twitter once more, staring at the cursed chart like he might be able to burn it into changing.

Nine percent.

He flops back dramatically, arm thrown over his eyes. How has it come to this? Seven years of quietly liking Beomgyu, of orbiting him like a loyal moon, and this is the thanks he gets from MOAs? 

He sits up slowly, eyes gleaming.

“Fine,” he murmurs. “If they don’t see it…”

He opens Weverse again.

“…I’ll just have to show them.”

He taps into the broadcast message screen, the one that goes out to all his subscribers, the little cursor blinking expectantly at him. For a second, he hesitates. His heart is still beating a bit too fast, leftover indignation mixing with fondness until it all feels fizzy and reckless.

He starts typing anyway.

The words pour out of him in one long, breathless stream, barely punctuated, barely restrained.

no but the pictures beomgyu hyung took with hello kitty
he’s so cool and he’s so handsome and he’s so lovely and he looks like he came straight out of a comic book and he looks so strong and black looks really good on him and he looked like a bodyguard and he looked like a prince and he looked so cute and he looked so adorable and he looked like an unrivaled idol and he looked so elegant and i fall for him every time i see him and i never get tired of seeing him and his smile is so pretty and it literally melts my heart
the pictures came out really well

He leans back against his pillows with a satisfied little hum, sending it without a second thought. A slow smirk creeps onto his face.

There. Done.

That should do it. It’s super casual and honest. Completely normal behaviour between group members. He imagines MOAs reading it, screaming, screenshotting, posting it everywhere with shaking hands and too many exclamation points. He can practically see the edits forming already. He can already feel the Beomkai revolution coming.

His job here is done.

But then he squints at the screen.

…Wait.

He reads it again.

And again.

His smirk falters.

“Oh no,” he whispers.

Was that… too much? That feels like too much. That feels like something you write in your diary at three in the morning, not something you send to hundreds of thousands of people. His chest tightens as the overthinking kicks in full force.

i fall for him every time i see him.

Kai gasps softly, scandalised. “Why would I say that.”

He sits up straighter, heart thudding now for a completely different reason. This is obvious. This is so obvious. This is how people get teased for months. This is how Beomgyu himself might see it and laugh and tilt his head and say something that makes Kai combust on the spot.

He imagines Beomgyu reading it in Tokyo, eyebrows lifting, smile going small and curious.

Kai lets out a distressed noise and immediately types again, fingers flying, hitting send.

anyway they’re kinda nice

He pauses, then adds one more line for good measure and hits send.

hehe

He stares at the screen, breathing hard, then nods to himself.

Perfect. Now it sounds way more casual, like it’s no big deal at all.. That fixes everything.

The message whooshes away, and Kai collapses back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a grin that is half smug, half terrified.

“Nailed it,” he murmurs, absolutely convinced.

Kai is just starting to drift, eyelids heavy, phone slipping from his grasp onto his chest, when it buzzes. He blinks blearily, half-asleep, and squints down at the screen. It’s a Weverse notification from Beomgyu.

Kai sits bolt upright so fast the mattress creaks. He scrambles to unlock his phone, hands suddenly clumsy, heart hammering so loud he’s convinced the entire dorm can hear it. 

He opens it.

beomgyu

ah hahahahahaha i saw huening’s dm
our huening is really something, right!!?????????
he’s so cute i could die

Kai makes a sound that should not be physically possible. He slams his face into his pillow, screaming silently, feet kicking wildly against the bed like he’s possessed. He squeezes the pillow tight, muffling a high-pitched squeal that threatens to escape anyway. Beomgyu thinks he’s cute.

Beomgyu read it. Beomgyu laughed. Beomgyu didn’t think it was weird or too much or embarrassing. Beomgyu called him cute.

“I’m going to explode,” Kai whispers hoarsely into the fabric.

He rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling, chest buzzing, grin so wide it almost hurts. A small, giddy laugh slips out of him, quiet and breathless. He presses his phone to his heart like a talisman.

Fine. Maybe Beomkai is only nine percent right now, but this? This feels like a win. Kai curls onto his side, happiness warm and snug under his ribs, eyes finally fluttering closed. His thoughts are soft and pink and full of Beomgyu’s smile, and when sleep takes him, it comes easy.

Tonight, at least, he knows he’s going to dream well.

🐧🧸

The fanmeeting is loud in that familiar, comforting way, a low roar of excitement layered with laughter and shrieks every time one of them so much as breathes into a microphone. Kai stands on stage with a smile fixed carefully into place, eyes flicking over the tables stacked with fan-provided props.

Hats. Headbands. Plushies. Sunglasses. He scans them with purpose. He’s trying to find any couple items prepared for him and Beomgyu, whatever it may be. Matching accessories, things that come in pairs, anything that can be shared. Kai spots a few things that could work, reaches for one hopeful headband, then deflates when he realises there’s only one. He realises none of the fans have provided any couple items for him and Beomgyu.

Kai clicks his tongue quietly, disappointed. He turns around just in time to see Taehyun and Beomgyu laughing together as they put on a cherry hat. It’s oversized and ridiculous, a pair of red and pink cherries for them to slip their head into, and Taehyun is already lifting it up, carefully placing it on Beomgyu’s head.

Their faces are close. Too close. Kai squints. Taehyun adjusts the hat, fingers brushing Beomgyu’s hair, and Beomgyu laughs, leaning in without thinking. The fans lose it instantly, screams rippling through the hall.

Kai huffs, folding his arms. He sulks openly, lips pushing into a pout before he can stop himself. This won’t do at all. He glances down at what he’s holding: a pair of small hair clips, simple and cute, clearly meant for him. He’d planned to put them on himself, maybe get a reaction that way.

Kai changes his mind.

He waits patiently. Or as patiently as he can manage, foot bouncing as Taehyun finishes fussing with the cherry hat. When Beomgyu is finally free, Kai marches over, determination radiating off him.

“Hyung,” he says sweetly, already reaching up.

Beomgyu blinks in surprise just as Kai clips the first hairpin into his fringe, fingers gentle and practiced. Then the second. Kai takes his time, adjusting them until they sit just right.

“There,” Kai says, soft and fond. Then, as if it just slips out, he adds, “You look so pretty, hyung.”

The microphone catches it beautifully. The reaction is immediate. The fans scream. Kai freezes, eyes widening, hand flying up to cover his mouth as if he cannot believe what just happened. He lets out a flustered little laugh, shoulders hunching in embarrassment, cheeks warming as he ducks his head. Inside, he is glowing.

Beomgyu stares at him for a second, clearly stunned, then laughs, one hand flying up to touch the clips. His ears turn pink, and the sight sends another rush of triumph through Kai’s chest.

“So pretty?” Beomgyu repeats, teasing, voice fond.

Kai shrugs, still pretending to be shy. “I take it back,” he mumbles.

They drift back into place as Soobin starts leading introductions, his voice steady and familiar. Kai half-listens, nodding when appropriate, smiling at the fans, but his attention keeps sliding back to Beomgyu. To the way the hair clips catch the light. To the way Beomgyu keeps touching them like he’s checking they’re still real.

The fans ask questions. They cheer. Someone yells Kai’s name, and he beams, waving enthusiastically.

Then, without thinking too much about it, he leans into his mic again.

“Guys, don’t you think Beomgyu-hyung looks extra pretty today?” he says lightly. “Everybody, look at him.”

The hall erupts. He can see the slight blush creeping up Beomgyu’s neck before he strikes a flower pose, looking pretty as ever.

What Kai hadn’t accounted for is how brutal this all feels on his own heart, how flirting and clinging in public is not some easy performance when he is this flustered and this in love. Every smile Beomgyu throws his way, every fond glance and soft laugh, sends his pulse into overdrive, his chest aching like it might split open. He has to act nonchalant, play it off like it’s all effortless and unserious, when inside his heart is trying to beat its way out of his ribs. He did this to himself, and he knows it, standing there grinning while his insides are a complete mess.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Beomgyu says, accusing but amused.

Kai tilts his head innocently. “Am I?”

Before Beomgyu can reply, he steps closer, closing the space between them with an exaggerated swagger that has the fans screaming even louder. He stops right in front of Kai, leans down just enough, and puckers his lips at Kai’s direction.

“Muah,” Beomgyu says theatrically, blowing a kiss.

Kai doesn’t miss a beat. He puckers up exaggeratedly and leans forward, meeting it with a loud, dramatic smooch of his own and the noise that follows is enough to make his ears ring.

Kai pulls back, laughing, hands covering his face again as he shakes with barely-contained glee. Beomgyu laughs too, eyes bright, reaching out to steady Kai by the arm like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Kai peeks through his fingers at the sea of screaming fans, heart pounding happily. This is actually happening. He just got a kiss from Beomgyu. Okay, fine, a pretend kiss, but that distinction feels completely irrelevant when his face is this hot and his smile hurts from how wide it is. He doesn’t think he has ever been happier in his entire life, not even a little bit. At the same time, his chest feels tight, like his heart is swelling too big for his ribs, thudding wildly with nowhere to go. This cannot be healthy, he thinks faintly, still grinning like an idiot, because no one should be this close to bursting just from standing next to the person they love.

Another small victory, he thinks, grinning.

And he’s only just getting started.

The fansign settles into its familiar rhythm soon after, staff ushering them into their seats, tables lined up neatly, albums stacked, markers uncapped. Kai adjusts his chair, waves when the first MOA sits down in front of him, and just like that, everything feels easy again.

This part he loves.

Talking to MOAs has always been one of his favourite things. There is something grounding about it, about hearing real voices instead of seeing numbers on a screen. He listens earnestly as the first fan tells him about her long day at school, nodding along, eyes bright, offering encouragement like it matters, because it does. He signs her album carefully, doodles a tiny heart in the corner when she smiles shyly at him.

The next fan gushes about the comeback, about her favourite song, about a lyric that made her cry. Kai leans forward, elbows on the table, getting excited with her, talking about recording sessions and choreography, laughing when she imitates one of his parts a little too enthusiastically.

“Thank you for supporting us,” he says, meaning it every single time.

And it keeps going like that. Fan after fan. Stories about exams and jobs and pets and birthdays. Compliments that make him bashful, jokes that make him laugh. The minute-long slots fly by, each one a small, warm connection, and Kai finds himself genuinely having fun, the earlier chaos and heart-fluttering nerves settling into something soft and steady.

Then a fan sits down, eyes shining mischievously.

Kai signs her album, glances up, and she leans in just a little.

“If you could date anyone of your members,” she asks, trying and failing to sound casual, “who would you pick?”

Kai doesn’t even pause.

“Beomgyu-hyung,” he says brightly. “Definitely Beomgyu-hyung.”

The fan’s mouth drops open. 

“Oh?” she says, delighted. “Do you have a reason?”

Kai smiles, the answer already spilling out of him like it’s been waiting all day.

“Because Beomgyu-hyung is closest to my type,” he says simply. “He’s kind and warm, and he’s really pretty too.” He gestures vaguely with his pen, animated. “He’s very charismatic on stage, but at home he’s super soft, and I think I like that contrast. He’s also really funny, he makes me laugh a lot, and I think he’s very dependable. Like, I can always go to him whenever I need help.”

The fan’s eyes are huge now.

“He’s also really thoughtful,” Kai continues earnestly, “which I like to find in a boyfriend–”

“Your time is up,” a staff member says gently from behind him, tapping the table. “Please move on to the next member, thank you.”

He stops short, blinking, only then realising how much he’s been talking.

“Oh,” he says, laughing sheepishly. “Right.”

The fan stands up, still grinning, but before she moves on, she turns back one last time, eyes sparkling.

“Boyfriend?” she asks.

Kai flushes instantly, ears burning. “No, I mean–” He waves his hands, flustered. “In this situation! Hypothetically! Thank you for coming!”

She laughs, satisfied, and moves on to the next member.

Kai exhales, pressing his palms flat against the table, heart pounding.

The next MOA sits down almost immediately, eyebrows raised.

“So,” she says, smiling knowingly, “what’s this I hear about Beomgyu?”

Kai lights up again like a switch has been flipped.

“Oh,” he says happily. “Beomgyu-hyung?”

And he’s off.

He talks about Beomgyu’s laugh, about how he always knows how to cheer people up, about how cool he looks when he’s focused and how soft he is when he’s sleepy. He doesn’t even realise the minute ticking by until the staff signals again, ushering the fan along.

The fansign keeps rolling, the line never quite thinning the way Kai expects it to, each new face bringing a different kind of energy with it. Some MOAs sit down and immediately start talking about their lives, voices soft and earnest, telling him about quitting a job they hated or finally passing an exam they thought they would fail. Kai listens closely, elbows on the table, nodding along, offering encouragement and congratulations like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He signs albums carefully, adds little doodles when they laugh, and thanks them over and over again for being there, for supporting them, for loving them enough to show up.

Others come in with mischief written all over their faces. One fan asks him to do an embarrassing pose, and he groans but does it anyway, hiding his face in his hands when she cheers far too loudly. Through it all, he’s laughing, relaxed, completely in his element.

Then come the classic questions. Superlatives. Who’s the loudest in the dorm, who sleeps the most, who takes the longest to get ready. Kai answers easily, listing names without thinking too hard about it. “Beomgyu-hyung is the funniest,” he says at one point, nodding decisively. “He’s also the most dramatic, but in a good way.” Another fan asks who he relies on the most, and the answer slips out just as naturally. “Beomgyu-hyung,” Kai says again, smiling to himself.

It’s only after a few more fans pass by that something clicks.

He’s talking about Beomgyu a lot.

The realisation hits him in the middle of a conversation, right as he’s explaining how Beomgyu always notices when someone’s feeling off and does small things to make it better. The fan across from him is nodding eagerly, clearly enjoying the story, and Kai doesn’t stop himself. He doesn’t even try to pivot. The words just keep coming, fond and sincere and completely unfiltered.

At some point, the original plan fades into the background. The careful idea of pushing Beomkai, of being intentional and strategic about it all, slips through his fingers without him noticing. He isn’t performing anymore. He isn’t thinking about rankings or percentages or ships. He’s just talking about Beomgyu because his heart keeps tugging him there, because that’s where his thoughts naturally go.

By the time the next fan sits down and asks, “Is there anyone in the group you admire a lot?” Kai answers without missing a beat, warmth blooming in his chest all over again. “Beomgyu-hyung,” he says, voice softening. He laughs a little, embarrassed only after the fact. “I talk about him a lot, don’t I?”

The fan smiles knowingly, and Kai smiles back, cheeks warm, finally realising he’s well past playing it up for the cameras now. Whatever this started as, whatever scheme he thought he was running, it’s turned into something else entirely. He’s not pushing a ship anymore. He’s just hopelessly, uncontrollably in love.

🐧🧸

beomgyu nose @gyustar · 1h ago

OMG YALL op was saying how during the fansign, she asked kai who he’d date in txt and he answer beomgyu immediately and went on an entire rant about how much he likes beomgyu until her time was up and she didn’t get to say what she wanted to say to him😭😭 #beomkai

↳ beomkailuvr @beombeom · 1h ago

I TOLD YALL EVERYBODY GET MORE BEOMKAIPILLED NEOOOOOOW 

↳ tiny bin @bunsoob · 58 mins ago

wait why is this actually so cute… he loves his beomgyu hyung so much🥹 

↳ ggumjjunie enthusiast @popnblow · 53 mins ago

hold awn… this beomkai meal is delicious yall why didnt any of you tell me :////

↳ nyangnyangz @kittyun · 48 mins ago

NO BUT YOU GUYS DONT UNDERSTAND the moa that went after op in the fansign said the same exact thing!! he used up the entire time slot just to gush about beomgyu omg that boy is in love!!! #beomkai

↳ nini @ningningzon · 36 mins ago

that’s it… i’m taking the beomkai pill and nobody can stop me!!!

↳ no labels, just me @hueninks · 58 mins ago

this happening right after that whole paragraph he wrote about gyu in his weverse dms… oh kai my baby :((( he’s so in love :((((

🐧🧸 

Kai wakes up with his hand pressed to his chest and the faint soreness of having slept wrong, blinking blearily as he rolls onto his side and reaches for it before he’s even fully conscious. It’s muscle memory at this point: check the time, check notifications, ease himself into the day. Twitter opens automatically, and the second the screen loads, he freezes. His timeline is completely overtaken, the same two names screaming back at him in bold text over and over again. Beomkai. Clips, screenshots, reaction tweets piling on top of each other faster than he can process. He sits up slowly, duvet slipping down his waist, eyes wide as he scrolls and refreshes, watching the numbers climb in real time.

A small, triumphant warmth blooms in his chest before he can stop it. They’re trending and MOAs are finally paying attention, finally seeing what he’s always known. He taps into the hashtag with shaking fingers, scrolling through threads full of screaming reactions and joking declarations about Beomkai Nation rising. Kai presses his lips together, pleased in a way that feels almost smug. He’s always thought they were cute together. Always thought the chemistry was obvious if you were just willing to look. People had been blind before, but now they see it. Now they get it.

He falls back against his pillows with a satisfied exhale, scrolling lazily, letting himself bask in it until the edits start appearing. At first, they’re harmless enough: soft compilations of him laughing at Beomgyu’s jokes, leaning into his side, fixing his hair with careful fingers. Kai smiles despite himself, nose scrunching as he watches. Fine. He can live with that. Then the next video loads, bold text announcing KAI MAKING HEART EYES AT BEOMGYU FOR SEVEN MINUTES STRAIGHT, and Kai groans out loud even as he watches anyway.

It’s bad. Worse than he remembers. Clip after clip of him staring too long, smiling too softly, eyes tracking Beomgyu across rooms like he’s afraid to miss a single second of him. Someone’s slowed it all down, zoomed in, layered it with romantic music and sparkles for good measure. Kai drops his phone onto the bed and rolls onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow with a muffled groan, mortification burning hot in his cheeks. When he peeks back at the screen, another edit has already started, this one focused entirely on him being clingy: tugging at Beomgyu’s sleeve, leaning into his shoulder, lighting up the second he walks by. He kicks his legs weakly against the mattress, groaning again. Has he really always been this obvious?

The tweets don’t help. 

cupcake @gyucake · 7h ago

ayo he’s so whipped wtf………

angel kai @kaingel · 5h ago

kai my brother in christ you are NAWT beating the down bad allegations

02z love bot @tyunninging · 1h ago

weverse dm kai son, fansign kai daughter, or heart eyes kai nonbinary child?

cherry🍒 @gyustappen · 1h ago

HE’S SO GAY!!! MY SON IS GAY!!! 

Kai presses his face into the pillow again, half-horrified, half-achingly fond, his heart still fluttering even as anxiety starts to creep in around the edges. The happiness from seeing Beomkai trend doesn’t disappear, but it twists into something sharper, something uneasy. Because if everyone can see it this clearly, then surely Beomgyu can too.

That thought makes his chest tighten. The other members know– of course they do. They’ve known for years, teasing him gently, fondly, like it’s just another part of who Kai is. It’s hard to hide a crush when you live together, when your moods shift with one person’s presence, when your eyes always drift to the same place in every room. But Beomgyu is different. Kai doesn’t want him to know, not like this, not through slowed-down edits and strangers pointing out what Kai’s spent years trying to keep quiet. He doesn’t want Beomgyu to think he’s strange or embarrassing or too much.

He flops back onto his bed, phone held limply above him as he stares at the ceiling, the timeline still refreshing below. Reality settles in slowly, heavily. Liking Beomgyu doesn’t mean he gets to have him. They’re in a group together, their lives bound by cameras and contracts and expectations, and even in some impossible world where Beomgyu felt the same, there would never be freedom in it. No holding hands without pretending. No kisses without having to hide in the shadows. No quiet mornings without fear of being seen. And worse than all of that is the friendship. The fact that Beomgyu is safe, constant, someone Kai doesn’t want to risk losing.

His chest aches with it, a dull, familiar pain he’s learned to live with. So this is it, he thinks quietly. This is all there is. He turns onto his side and hugs his pillow close, phone still warm in his hand as Beomkai continues to trend without him watching. He’ll take this version of it; the small moments, the glances that linger, the touches that can be laughed off, the pretend kisses on stage that feel a little too real because his heart refuses to treat them as pretend. He’ll take the illusion, the fantasy, the few seconds where it almost feels like they’re in love. Because this pretending is all he can ever have.

The door bangs open without warning, loud and careless, and Kai barely has time to lift his head before there is a familiar weight flopping onto the mattress beside him. Beomgyu lands half on the bed, half on Kai, limbs everywhere, already comfortable like he belongs there, like this is the most natural place in the world for him to be. Kai’s heart kicks into overdrive instantly, thudding so hard he’s sure it must be audible, and he stiffens for half a second before forcing himself to relax.

“Yah,” Beomgyu says cheerfully, voice still a little sleepy, “we’re trending on Twitter because of you, Huening-ah.”

Kai blinks, widening his eyes in what he hopes is a convincing display of innocence. “Huh? Me?” he asks, pitching his voice just right, confused but polite, like he hasn’t spent the last ten minutes spiralling over edits of himself gazing at Beomgyu like he hung the stars.

Beomgyu snorts and shifts closer, rolling onto his side and tucking himself neatly against Kai’s body. He props his chin on Kai’s shoulder, arm draped lazily over his waist, warm and solid and devastating. “Don’t act like you don’t know,” he says, smiling to himself. “What’s with you lately? You’ve been complimenting me a lot since that Hello Kitty event.”

Kai shrugs, careful, casual, even as his insides feel like they’re melting. “I always compliment you,” he says. 

It’s not defensive, just factual, and Beomgyu hums in agreement because he knows it’s true. Kai has always told him he looks good, sounds good, did well, worked hard. Long before any schemes or charts or percentages, long before Kai even admitted to himself that seven years was a ridiculous amount of time to like someone this much.

“Well,” Kai adds, seizing the opening while his courage is still intact, “management called me earlier. They said we did a good job.” He pauses, glancing sideways. “They said Beomkai brought in a lot of attention. From other fandoms and the general public too. Told me to… keep it up. You know, for fanservice.” 

It’s not entirely a lie, he saw the tweets. He just leaves out the parts where management did not, in fact, call him to “keep it up for fanservice”. If anything, the only person getting serviced is him.

Beomgyu doesn’t look surprised. He just hums again, deeper this time, and shifts even closer until there’s barely any space left between them. “That won’t be hard,” he says easily, like it’s nothing at all, like Kai’s heart isn’t doing somersaults at the implication.

That’s enough. Kai turns into him without thinking, burying his face into Beomgyu’s chest and smushing his cheek there, arms curling in close. Beomgyu’s laugh vibrates through him, soft and fond, and an arm tightens around Kai’s shoulders automatically, protective and warm. They cuddle like this all the time. It’s normal. It’s safe. It’s absolutely lethal. Kai breathes in slowly, counting the rise and fall of Beomgyu’s chest, telling his heart to calm down even as it refuses to listen.

The room grows quiet again, the noise of the world fading out until there’s only the steady rhythm of shared breathing. Somewhere between one blink and the next, Beomgyu’s grip loosens just enough to signal sleep, and Kai follows soon after, tangled up in him, heart full and aching and held together by the simple, dangerous comfort of being exactly where he wants to be.

🐧🧸

The Not To Do set looks familiar in the way all of TXT’s in-house chaos eventually does. Bright lights, too many cameras, staff members whispering behind clipboards like they know something the idols don’t. Kai stands next to Beomgyu during the intro shoot, shoulders brushing, already half distracted by how Beomgyu’s hair looks today. He reminds himself to focus when the producer claps their hands and smiles far too knowingly.

“Due to the increase in popularity of the chemistry between you two, we’d like to test that. Today’s theme,” she announces, “is Mini Date Compatibility Test.”

Kai’s soul briefly leaves his body. Mini date... Compatibility test...?

Beomgyu reacts first, bursting out laughing and clapping like he’s just been handed a gift instead of a loaded weapon. “Oh, this is easy,” he says confidently. “We’re compatible.”

Kai nods along a beat too quickly. “Yeah. Super compatible,” he agrees, voice cracking just enough that the editor will absolutely zoom in on it later.

The rules are simple and therefore dangerous. They each have three hours to and execute a mini date for the other. No outside help, limited budget, and the goal is to make the other genuinely satisfied by the end of it. Satisfaction is left deliberately vague, which Kai finds deeply concerning.

After the intro shoot, they’re separated for individual interviews. Kai is ushered into a small room with a single camera and a staff member crouched behind it, gesturing for him to sit comfortably. He folds his hands in his lap, takes a breath, and smiles.

“For my date,” Kai says, eyes brightening immediately, “I’m planning to take Beomgyu-hyung to an internet cafe.”

The staff member makes a small sound of interest, and Kai leans forward, warming to the topic. “He really loves PC games,” he continues, nodding like this is very serious research. “And internet cafes have really good food too. Like ramyeon, sotteok sotteok, odeng… he always eats really well there.”

He laughs, a little shy now. “I think it’s nice when you can just relax together. No pressure. Just playing games, eating good food, sitting side by side.” He pauses, then adds softly, “I want him to be comfortable.”

The words linger in the air longer than he expects them to. Kai blinks and laughs again, waving a hand like he hasn’t just revealed his entire heart on camera. “Anyway,” he finishes quickly, “I think he’ll like it.”

When they’re brought back together, Beomgyu is already grinning, rocking back on his heels like he’s buzzing with energy. Kai wonders what he planned and immediately decides he doesn’t want to know yet. He’s not sure his heart could handle it.

“To decide who goes first,” the producer says, “we’ll do rock, paper, scissors.”

They square up in the middle of the set, cameras circling like sharks. Kai cracks his knuckles dramatically. “Hyung,” he warns, “I’m really good at this.”

Beomgyu scoffs. “You say that every time.”

They count together, hands moving in sync, and of course Beomgyu wins immediately. Kai groans loudly, throwing his head back.

“Yes!” Beomgyu cheers, pumping his fist. “I knew it.”

“That means I have to go first,” Kai says, already resigned. “Okay. Fine. Let’s go.”

The two of them pile into the car a few minutes later, cameras already mounted in the corners, the familiar red light blinking on like a quiet reminder that this is, in fact, being filmed. Kai takes the seat next to Beomgyu out of habit, knees brushing as the door slides shut. He buckles his seatbelt, fingers fumbling slightly, and tries to calm the buzz in his chest. This isn’t a real date. He knows that. It just feels dangerously close to one.

“So,” Beomgyu says, turning in his seat to face Kai with a grin, “can I guess where you’re taking me?”

Kai laughs, a little too quickly. “You can try.”

Beomgyu taps his chin exaggeratedly, eyes flicking up toward the ceiling as if consulting some invisible list. “Okay. Is it outside? Or inside?”

“That’s cheating,” Kai complains.

“Hmm… is it something active?” Beomgyu presses on, clearly enjoying himself.

Kai shakes his head. “No.”

Beomgyu’s smile widens. “Then it must be food related.”

“Maybe,” Kai says, refusing to give anything away. His leg bounces on its own, nerves humming under his skin as the car pulls into traffic. He watches the city blur past the window and tries not to think about how nice it feels to be here like this, just the two of them, shoulder to shoulder.

When the car finally slows and turns into a familiar street near the company, Beomgyu cranes his neck to look out the window. “Wait,” he says slowly. “Hold on.”

They stop, the door sliding open, and the sign comes into view.

“Oh my god,” Beomgyu blurts out, eyes lighting up instantly. “An internet cafe?”

Kai laughs, relief and excitement tangling together in his chest. “Yeah. I figured… you come here a lot. Probably your favourite place to go.”

Beomgyu looks at him, genuinely surprised, then breaks into a grin so bright it makes Kai’s stomach flip. “You know me so well,” he says, bumping Kai’s shoulder affectionately as they step out of the car. “I already love this date.”

Kai ducks his head, smiling to himself as they head inside. Part of the cafe has been closed off with discreet barriers, staff and cameras keeping a respectful distance while still capturing everything. The familiar hum of computers and low chatter wraps around them like a blanket.

Once they’re seated, Kai clears his throat and turns slightly toward Beomgyu, adopting his best “host” voice. “So, for my mini date,” he begins, glancing briefly at the camera, “the plan is simple. Play games, eat good food, and just relax.”

“Perfect,” Beomgyu says immediately.

They order food together, Beomgyu listing off his favourites without hesitation. Ramyeon, tteokbokki, hwachae, a couple of drinks. Kai nods along, mentally checking off every item like a personal achievement.

When the food is on the way, Beomgyu logs into a game and swivels his chair slightly toward Kai. “Okay,” he says, cracking his knuckles, “I’m going to teach you League of Legends.”

Kai nods seriously. “I’m ready.”

He is, unfortunately, not ready at all.

Beomgyu starts explaining, pointing at the screen, words spilling out in an enthusiastic stream. Kai tries to listen. He really does. But the glow from the monitor casts soft light across Beomgyu’s face, highlighting his eyes, the bridge of his nose, the curve of his mouth as he talks. He looks unreal like this, ethereal and focused, completely in his element.

Kai blinks, realising he’s been staring.

“Huening-ah?” Beomgyu says, glancing over. “Are you listening?”

“Yes,” Kai says automatically, clicking something he absolutely should not have clicked.

Beomgyu laughs as Kai’s character immediately dies. “No, you’re not.”

They play anyway, or at least Beomgyu does. Kai fumbles through controls, loses track of what’s happening almost instantly, and gives up after about ten minutes. He spins his chair slightly to the side and props his chin in his hand, watching Beomgyu instead.

“This is fun,” Kai says softly.

Beomgyu glances over again, surprised. “You’re not even playing.”

“I know,” Kai says, smiling. “I like watching you.”

Beomgyu’s ears turn pink, but he doesn’t tell Kai to stop. He just turns back to the screen, lips curling up in a small, pleased smile, and keeps playing.

And for Kai, that’s enough.

By the time a staff member gently taps the edge of Kai’s desk to signal time, he blinks in surprise, glancing at the clock on the screen like it has personally betrayed him. Three hours have passed without him even noticing. Beomgyu stretches in his chair, rolling his shoulders, and swivels toward the camera with an easy grin.

They’re pulled aside for a quick interview, standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the familiar backdrop. “I had a lot of fun,” Kai says first, smiling wide. “It didn’t feel like three hours at all.”

Beomgyu snorts. “Yah, you spent the entire three hours watching me play,” he says, poking Kai lightly in the arm. “You dummy.”

Kai laughs, unbothered. “Yeah, but that’s fun too.”

Beomgyu shakes his head, but he’s smiling when he turns back to the camera. “I really enjoyed it,” he admits. “Huening knows me way too well. Bringing me to an internet cafe was cheating.”

Kai beams, chest warm and fluttery at the praise.

Soon enough, they’re back in the car, squeezed into the same seats as before, the hum of the engine filling the space between them. This time, it’s Kai’s turn to guess, and he leans forward eagerly, scanning the streets as they pass.

“Okay, so… is it inside?” Kai asks.

Beomgyu laughs. “You’re doing exactly what I did.”

“Is it food?” Kai presses.

“Nope.”

Kai squints. “Is it… active?”

“Kind of.”

That’s as far as he gets. When the car finally stops, Kai stares out the window at an unfamiliar building, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “I have no idea what we’re doing,” he admits, glancing at Beomgyu.

Beomgyu just smiles mysteriously and hops out of the car.

They film a short introduction outside, Beomgyu taking the lead with an unusual seriousness that makes Kai’s stomach flip. “So for my mini date,” Beomgyu says, “we’re going to make our own photostrip holder.” He gestures toward the building behind them. “We can take photobooth pictures and then customise a keychain to hold them.”

Kai blinks at him.

“I know Huening is actually really sentimental,” Beomgyu continues, voice softening, “and he likes things that help make memories. So I thought this would be something he’d enjoy. You can carry it around with you wherever you go.”

“Oh,” he says faintly, heart swelling so much it almost hurts. 

He suddenly feels painfully aware of how simple his own date was in comparison. An internet cafe. Games and food. He looks at Beomgyu with something dangerously close to awe, guilt creeping in alongside gratitude. How does Beomgyu always do this? How does he always think so deeply about others?

They head inside, and Kai follows Beomgyu like he’s in a daze. They’re led to a row of photobooths, bright and colourful, each with different styles and filters. They debate for a moment before settling on the analog booth, drawn to its simplicity.

Inside, it’s smaller than Kai expects. Intimate. He looks around and then freezes.

“There’s only one stool,” he says weakly.

Beomgyu looks down at it, then back at Kai, completely unfazed. “Guess I’ll sit on you.”

Before Kai can process the words, Beomgyu is already settling onto his lap, weight warm and solid, knees pressing in on either side. Kai’s hands hover uselessly in the air, heart slamming so hard he’s sure the cameras must be able to hear it.

“Hyung,” Kai croaks, voice barely there.

“Relax,” Beomgyu says easily, shifting just enough to get comfortable. He glances up at Kai, grinning. “It’s just a photobooth.”

Kai nods, swallowing hard. He looks around for the screen, for some kind of warning, a countdown, anything to give him time to prepare, but the booth is bare and old-fashioned, just a lens staring back at them. Before he can even ask–

Flash.

Both of them jolt.

“Oh!” Beomgyu yelps, startled, instinctively grabbing onto Kai’s shoulders. “Yah! Already?!”

Kai squeaks, eyes wide, still frozen in place as Beomgyu bursts into laughter and mild panic. “Hurry, Huening, heart! Heart!” Beomgyu says frantically, waving a hand.

Kai scrambles, lifting his hand at the last second, forming half a heart. Beomgyu mirrors him, their fingers almost touching in the middle as the second photo snaps. The flash leaves spots in Kai’s vision, his heart trying desperately to escape his chest.

For the third frame, Beomgyu loops an arm around Kai’s shoulders, pulling him in without hesitation. He hugs Kai’s face, cheek pressed to the top of Kai’s head, their faces squished together because of the height difference caused by Beomgyu sitting on Kai’s lap. Kai’s breath stutters, hands finally settling at Beomgyu’s waist more out of instinct than intention. He prays to any god that might be listening that Beomgyu can’t hear how violently his heart is pounding.

“Silly face!” Beomgyu declares just before the final flash.

Kai sticks his tongue out without thinking, eyes crossing as Beomgyu scrunches his face dramatically, laughter spilling out of him even as the picture is taken.

When the strip slides out, warm and curling slightly at the edges, they tumble out of the booth together, laughing as Beomgyu grabs it first. He holds it up between them, eyes scanning each frame.

The first one is a disaster. Both of them are half-zoned out, blinking, caught mid-existence.

The rest, unfortunately, are devastatingly couple-like.

They’re close. Too close. The heart pose is sloppy but unmistakable, the third frame all soft affection and proximity, the last one pure chaos and joy. Kai stares at it, cheeks burning, and Beomgyu laughs again.

“This one’s mine,” Beomgyu says decisively, tucking it away like it’s already his.

Kai barely manages a nod, still reeling, as Beomgyu turns back toward the booth with a grin. “Okay,” he says, cracking his knuckles. “Your turn. Let’s take one for you.”

Kai clears his throat, still trying to get his bearings as Beomgyu gestures toward the booth again. “W-wait,” he says quickly. “Maybe we should… practice the poses first.”

Beomgyu raises an eyebrow, amused. “Practice?”

“Yeah,” Kai insists, nodding like this is very reasonable and not because his heart might actually give out otherwise. “It’s analogue. We can’t mess it up.”

Beomgyu laughs but steps closer anyway. “Okay, director Huening. What poses do you want?”

Kai’s ears burn instantly. He fiddles with the hem of his sleeve, eyes darting everywhere but Beomgyu’s face. “Um… first frame, we should do cheek to cheek,” he says quietly. “Then… another heart for the second one.” He pauses, swallowing. “Third, we can lean our heads on each other. And the fourth is just… freestyle.”

Beomgyu’s smile softens. “Sounds good.”

They practice off to the side, Kai carefully guiding them into place, cheeks brushing just barely, then again more confidently. Their fingers fumble into a heart, their heads tilt together, Beomgyu laughing when Kai headbutts him by accident. When they finally feel ready, Kai signals to the staff with a small, determined nod.

“We’re ready,” he says.

They squeeze into the booth again, Beomgyu automatically settling onto Kai’s lap like before, as if it’s already decided. The staff closes the curtain, loads the film, and gives them a thumbs-up.

The first flash catches them cheek to cheek, Kai smiling shyly, Beomgyu grinning wide.

The second goes smoothly too, their heart shape cleaner this time, fingers fitting together like they’ve done before.

For the third, they lean their heads together, temple to temple, Beomgyu’s arm slipping around Kai’s shoulders naturally. Kai feels warm all over, content and terrified in equal measure.

Then comes the fourth.

“Freestyle,” Beomgyu whispers.

Kai, acting purely on instinct, puckers his lips into a small pout, eyes lifting toward the lens. He’s barely holding the pose when, without warning, Beomgyu turns his head and presses his lips softly to Kai’s cheek.

Flash.

Kai freezes, eyes wide, lips forming a perfect O of surprise as the camera captures the exact moment his soul leaves his body.

“There we go!” Beomgyu says brightly, pulling back with a laugh. “That one’s gonna be so cute!”

Kai does not respond. He cannot. His brain is static, his body buzzing like he’s been struck by lightning, face burning hot enough to power the building.

Beomgyu squints at him, amused. “Yah, Huening-ah,” he teases, poking his side. “Did my kiss affect you that much?”

Kai jolts, forcing out a laugh that sounds only slightly unhinged. “What? No,” he says quickly. “Why would it?”

Beomgyu hums, clearly unconvinced, but lets it go just as the strip slides out of the machine.

They lean in together to look at it, shoulders touching, and this time Kai can’t deny it. It’s cute. Painfully cute. Soft smiles, gentle closeness, and that last frame, frozen in perfect chaos, Beomgyu mid-kiss and Kai caught completely off guard.

They both smile at it, wide and genuine, and for a moment, Kai lets himself believe it’s real.

“Okay,” Beomgyu says, clapping his hands together once, energy renewed. “It’s time to decorate the case!”

They move over to the decorating station, a long table laid out with acrylic casings, sticker sheets, markers, and tiny charms spread everywhere like organised chaos. Kai picks up a clear casing and turns it over in his hands, still a little dazed, while Beomgyu immediately dives in, rifling through the stickers with focus.

Beomgyu’s design comes together quickly. He lines the border with heart stickers, spacing them evenly, humming to himself as he works. He also picks out a penguin and teddy bear charm and secures it to his casing, making it the cherry on top. It’s simple, neat, unmistakably Beomgyu, cute without trying too hard. He steps back when he’s done, nodding in approval. “Perfect,” he declares.

Kai takes longer. He squints at the sticker sheets, fingers hovering indecisively, before spotting a small teddy bear and a penguin. His lips curve into a soft smile as he peels them off carefully, placing them near the top of the casing beside the initials he’s already written with stickers: HK❤️BG. The sight of it makes his chest flutter. He adds a few scattered stars and tiny hearts along the sides and picks out a little red heart charm to hang at the top as well, not wanting to overcrowd it, then leans back.

“I’m done,” he says, quietly proud.

They hold up their cases for the camera, Beomgyu angling his to catch the light, Kai gripping his a little more carefully like it might disappear if he’s not gentle. One by one, they slide their photostrips into the casings. Kai watches his strip settle into place, protected and permanent, and something warm blooms in his chest. He can’t believe he gets to keep this. Something real. Something just theirs.

They’re pulled aside again for a final interview. Kai faces the camera, hands clasped loosely in front of him. “I think this is… the best thing I’ve ever done with someone,” he says honestly, smiling without thinking.

“Whoooa,” Beomgyu interrupts, leaning into frame. “Huening, you’re inflating my ego.”

Kai shakes his head, turning toward him. “I’m serious, hyung. Thank you for this.”

Beomgyu’s expression softens, smile smaller but warmer. “No worries, Kai-yah.”

Soon after, they’re back in the car, keychains safely tucked away, heading toward the studio to film the outro. Kai watches the city pass by again, fingers brushing the casing in his pocket, heart full in a way that feels dangerous and wonderful all at once.

The studio feels quieter when they get back, the kind of calm that settles in after a long shoot day, lights dimmed slightly, staff moving with the easy familiarity of people wrapping things up. Kai follows Beomgyu inside, fingers unconsciously brushing the photostrip holder in his pocket like it’s an anchor. He’s still floating a little, heart warm, chest full in a way he doesn’t want to examine too closely.

The producer claps her hands once to gather their attention. “Alright, last segment,” she says brightly. “We’re going to rate each other’s dates.”

Kai straightens immediately.

Beomgyu turns to him with a grin. “You go first.”

Kai doesn’t hesitate. Not even a second. “Ten,” he says firmly, holding both hands up like he’s presenting undeniable evidence. “Ten out of ten.”

The staff murmur, someone laughs, and Beomgyu blinks, clearly amused. “That fast?”

“Yes,” Kai says, nodding hard. “It was really fun. I liked it a lot.” He looks at Beomgyu, earnest to the point of danger. “You made my heart flutter.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Beomgyu laughs, loud and bright, one hand flying to his chest. “Eyyy,” he says, shaking his head. “Hueningie's really happy, huh?”

Kai just smiles, wide and genuine, because he means it. Because that date, that photobooth, the silly faces and quiet thoughtfulness, all of it felt special in a way he’s going to carry around for a long time. He doesn’t care if the cameras catch how soft he looks. He’s already lost control of that.

“And you?” the producer prompts, turning to Beomgyu. “What would you rate Huening Kai-ssi’s date?”

Kai’s chest buzzes with nervous excitement. He already knows the answer, or at least he thinks he does. Ten out of ten. Of course. Beomgyu loved the internet café. He said so. He laughed. He smiled. He ate well. It was good. It was enough.

Beomgyu hums thoughtfully, dragging the moment out. “Hmm.”

Kai’s smile wobbles just slightly.

“I’ll give it a…” Beomgyu pauses, glancing sideways at Kai, lips twitching. “A five.”

The world drops out from under him.

Kai’s face falls instantly, shock written all over it, eyes going wide before he can stop himself. It’s all caught in brutal clarity, every flicker of hurt broadcasted without mercy. He blinks, once, then twice, like maybe he misheard.

“Five?” he repeats weakly.

Beomgyu bursts out laughing, reaching over to pinch Kai’s cheek gently. “Yah, it wasn’t awful, of course,” he says quickly. “I really enjoyed it.”

Kai doesn’t look convinced.

“It’s just,” Beomgyu continues, sobering a little, “I wished it was something where we could interact more.” He gestures vaguely between them. “It felt like I was kind of playing alone. Which I was.” He laughs again, softer this time. “I wanted to spend more time with you.”

The words hit harder than the number ever could.

Kai’s throat tightens. “I’m sorry,” he says immediately, bowing his head a little. “I should’ve thought about that more. I didn’t mean to– I just thought–” His voice trails off, disappointment curling in his chest, heavy and sharp. He can’t believe he failed. He really thought he did well.

Beomgyu’s smile fades. Without hesitation, he steps closer and pulls Kai into a hug, arms wrapping around him easily, solid and warm. Kai stiffens for half a second before melting into it, forehead pressing against Beomgyu’s shoulder.

“Don’t apologise,” Beomgyu says quietly. “It’s just a game for the show.” He pats Kai’s back gently. “And I really did have fun. I just wish we could’ve done more together.”

Kai nods against him, swallowing hard. “Okay.”

The producer claps again, breaking the moment. “That means Beomgyu wins today’s episode!”

A staff member steps forward with a sash, bright and ridiculous, reading #1 HEART STEALER in bold letters. They drape it over Beomgyu’s shoulder, and the room fills with applause.

Beomgyu laughs, striking an exaggerated pose. “Thank you, thank you,” he says dramatically. “I’ll treasure this honour forever.”

Kai claps too, slower than everyone else, smile small but sincere. His chest still aches a little, but there’s something warm threaded through it as well, something hopeful he doesn’t want to name.

They finish shooting soon after, bowing deeply to the crew, thanking everyone for their hard work. As they head out together, Beomgyu bumps Kai’s shoulder lightly.

“You did well,” he says, easy and genuine.

Kai looks up at him, surprised. Then he smiles, soft and a little tired, and nods.

That doesn’t do anything to stall the pain in his chest. The car ride home is quieter than usual, the kind of silence that presses in instead of simply existing. Kai sits by the window, chin tucked into his jacket collar, eyes fixed on the dark blur of the city passing by. His reflection stares back at him faintly in the glass, pout unmistakable, shoulders slumped in a way he can’t seem to correct no matter how hard he tells himself to straighten up.

He knows it isn’t a real date. He knows it’s for a show, edited and framed and given scores for entertainment. He knows all of that, understands it logically, rationally. And still, his chest feels tight, disappointment gnawing at him in a way that refuses to be brushed aside. Five. The number echoes in his head like a bruise he keeps poking. He can’t stop thinking about how he must’ve looked; eager, hopeful, thinking he did something right only to find out it wasn’t enough. He squeezes his hands together in his lap, frustrated with himself. Such an idiot, he thinks. He should’ve done better. He should’ve thought more.

Beside him, Beomgyu watches for a moment, lips twitching as he takes in the dramatic downturn of Kai’s expression. Finally, he reaches over and swipes at Kai’s cheek, thumb brushing over the exaggerated pout.

“Kai-yah,” he says lightly, “stop pouting. It wasn’t a big deal.”

Kai turns to him immediately, eyes flashing with something raw and earnest. “It is to me.”

Beomgyu blinks, caught off guard by the firmness in his voice. Then he sighs, softening. “Okay, okay,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll let you make it up to me, how about that?”

Kai looks away again, jaw tightening. The offer barely registers through the fog of his feelings. By the time the car pulls up to the dorm, he’s already decided he wants to disappear for a while.

The moment the door opens, Kai hops out, muttering a quick “I’m showering,” before stomping straight toward the bathroom. The rest of them watch him go, bewildered.

“…What’s up with him?” Taehyun asks, glancing between Kai’s retreating back and Beomgyu.

Beomgyu rubs the back of his neck. “He’s sad I gave his date a low rating.”

Yeonjun groans. “Kai-yah,” he calls down the hall, “it’s only for the show! It’s not serious!”

“That’s what I said!” Beomgyu adds, exasperated, but the bathroom door has already shut with a decisive click. The sound of running water follows soon after, effectively ending the discussion.

Kai showers longer than usual, letting the heat sting his skin, hoping it’ll wash away the heavy feeling sitting in his chest. It doesn’t. When he’s done, he heads straight to his room, climbs into bed, and pulls the covers over his head like a shield. He curls in on himself, staring into the darkness, heart still sore despite his best efforts to soothe it.

Some time later, the door creaks open quietly. Beomgyu slips inside after his own shower, hair still damp, expression gentler than it’s been all evening. He stands there for a moment, looking at the lump under the blanket, then exhales softly.

“Kai,” he murmurs.

No response.

Beomgyu smiles faintly and moves closer, lifting the blanket just enough to slide underneath. The space immediately feels warmer, smaller. He turns onto his side, facing Kai, who stubbornly keeps his back turned, shoulders tense.

Beomgyu presses closer anyway, draping an arm around Kai’s waist, chin hovering near his shoulder. “You’re really sulking,” he says quietly.

Kai huffs. “Go away.”

“No,” Beomgyu replies easily, tightening his hold just a little. “I’m not letting you stew like this.”

They lie like that for a moment, the only sound Kai’s breathing and the faint hum of the dorm settling for the night. Finally, Beomgyu speaks again, voice low and sincere. “It’s really fine. I promise.”

Kai shifts, still not turning around. “You weren’t satisfied.”

Beomgyu sighs. “That’s not what I said.”

“But you gave it a five,” Kai insists, voice muffled by the pillow. “That means I did bad.”

Beomgyu props himself up on one elbow, peering down at him. “Kai-yah. I had a great time. I really did.” He reaches up to gently tug at Kai’s sleeve. “The only reason I said that is because I wanted to do more with you. That’s it. It’s not because you didn’t try hard enough.”

Kai hesitates. “Really?”

“Really,” Beomgyu says firmly. “If anything, it’s because you know me too well. You thought about what I like instead of thinking about us. That’s not a bad thing.”

Kai finally turns, just a little, eyes peeking out from under his fringe. “But you wanted more interaction.”

Beomgyu smiles softly. “Yeah. Because I like being with you.”

The words settle between them, warm and steady. Kai’s shoulders relax a fraction, tension easing despite himself. He still frowns, but it’s weaker now, less defensive.

Beomgyu nudges his nose gently against Kai’s temple. “Come on,” he murmurs. “Smile for me.”

Kai resists for a second longer, then the corner of his mouth twitches. Beomgyu catches it immediately.

“There,” he says triumphantly. “I knew it.”

Kai lets out a small laugh, embarrassed despite himself. “You’re annoying.”

“Only for you,” Beomgyu replies fondly. He shifts closer, pulling Kai fully into his chest, arms wrapping around him almost protectively. “I’m staying here tonight.”

Kai’s eyes widen slightly. “You don’t have to–”

“I want to,” Beomgyu interrupts gently. “I need to make sure my Huening isn’t sulky anymore.”

Kai’s heart flips at that, warmth blooming in his chest, chasing away the last of the lingering disappointment. He snuggles closer without thinking, face pressing into Beomgyu’s shoulder, arms curling around his waist.

“…Okay,” he murmurs.

They settle into the quiet together, bodies fitting easily, breaths syncing. Kai listens to the steady rhythm of Beomgyu’s heartbeat beneath his ear, satisfaction curling through him as sleep creeps closer. Whatever the score was, whatever the cameras caught, this is what matters.

🐧🧸

TOMORROW X TOGETHER @TXT_members · 1h ago

look how i found these cuties loool

#YEONJUN
#BEOMGYU
#HUENINGKAI

↳ gyukatz @hyukaaaaaa · 1h ago

AYO WHAT THE FUCK?????????????

↳ ^__^ @moacoer · 1h ago

BEOMKAI??????? YEONJUN THANK YOU FOR FEEDING US HOLY SHITIIFDNSIHIDH

↳ txt aoty @txtspromise · 1h ago

this beomkai pill goes craaaaaaaaazy yall 

↳ kpop boy hole @yeonjiddies · 1h ago

what the fuck yall . lets all kill ourselves . hey what if we kill ourselves ?

↳ txt brainrot @thekillaa · 1h ago

damn these bitches are fr gay for each other…

↳ BEOMKAI ENJOYER @huebeoms · 1h ago

they did this for me… yeonjun did this for me… 

↳ huehue @txtyuri · 1h ago

youre kidding…. YOURE KIDDINGFDNDF

↳ team yj @binniesplug · 1h ago

WHY HAVE WE ALL BEEN OVERDOSING ON THE BEOMKAI PILL LATELY??????

↳ lolang repeater @grovvingp4in · 52m ago

why is bighit pushing beomkai so much lol

↳ fem!kai’s bush @beomkaipilled · 51m ago

@grovvingp4in worry about your mother pushing your fat ass head out ha cooch!!!

🐧🧸 

TXT OFFICIAL @TXT_bighit · 1h ago

[NOT TO DO] BEOMKAI SPECIAL
★Let's see how truly compatible these two are★

🔗 https://youtu.be/xR5_PVZgaOs?si=zCmjZzefTe6f-JWQ

#투모로우바이투게더 #TOMORROW_X_TOGETHER #TXT #NOT_TODO

↳ beomkaist @gyukaiii · 1h ago

YOURE FUCKING JOKING

↳ ningie @cutiening · 1h ago

AN ENTIRE EP OF BEOMKAI GOING ON DATES IM GONNA KILL MYSELF

↳ blip @kainoseeater · 1h ago

EVERYBODY FREAKI G OUT ABOUT BEOMKAI QUICK NAME 10 BEOMKAI MOMENTS NEOW

↳ beautiful stranger @moawaningie · 1h ago

kai asking beomgyu to pose cheek to cheek ou you sly mf

↳ tubas manager @gyujun · 1h ago

are yall seeing mr heart eyes huening like im seeing him... like are we REALLY seeing him bc guys... he's so in love wtf

↳ gyunitis @beombeompow · 1h ago

damn all i gotta say is soobin gotta step up his game cause why is kai going on dates with his girl😭😭

↳ huenini @hhmnyakai · 1h ago

KILL ME NOWWWWW WHAT DO YOU MEAN BEOMKAI DATE EPISODE

↳ panic listener @kaisbf · 1h ago

ARE WE ALL SEEING HOW RED KAI GOT AFTER BEOMGYU KISSED HIM???? AND WHAT THE FUCK GYU KISSED HIM???????

↳ yeonjun’s mole @jjunnibae · 1h ago

did we all catch a glimpse of negative kai when beomgyu rated his date a five there😭 he got all sulky and pouty my baby🥹🥹

🐧🧸

By the time the Not To Do episode airs, Kai barely has time to process the aftermath before it swallows him whole. His timeline explodes overnight, Beomkai edits flooding every corner of the internet, fancams stitched together with trembling hands and soft music, moments slowed down and zoomed in until even Kai can see himself, looking at Beomgyu like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s dizzying, how fast it happens. Interviews, mentions, think pieces. And then the call comes.

A unit shoot.

Vogue.

Kai nearly drops his phone when he hears it. 

Now, seated in a sleek makeup chair under bright studio lights, he still feels like he’s dreaming. The hair stylist’s fingers move deftly through his hair, lifting, shaping, coaxing it into something more dangerous. The makeup artist works quietly, precise and focused, brushing shadow along his lids, sharpening the natural shape of his eyes until his reflection starts to feel unfamiliar. Not bad at all, just different. Maybe a bit older. He watches himself in the mirror, fascinated despite himself.

He hadn’t expected his plan to work this well. He’d hoped for attention, maybe some noise, a little push. He hadn’t expected this. And yet, selfishly, what makes his heart flutter most isn’t the prestige or the headlines, it’s the fact that this means hours of one-on-one time with Beomgyu. Scheduled, sanctioned, unavoidable time together.

He loves the others, truly. They’re his family. But Beomgyu time is rare, and precious, and Kai has learned to treasure it wherever he can find it even when it comes disguised as work.

“Try not to blink,” the makeup artist murmurs, applying the final touches. Kai hums in response, eyes steady on his reflection.

The theme is obvious now: sultry and editorial. His lips are slightly glossed, skin glowing in a way that makes him look almost unreal. Siren-like, he thinks distantly, a word he once heard Yeonjun use teasingly. His eyes itch to look to the side, toward the other chair, toward where Beomgyu must be getting ready too but he resists. He’s not sure he can handle it yet. Not when his nerves are already wound so tight.

As if summoned by the thought alone, Beomgyu walks past his mirror.

It’s just a glimpse. A fraction of a second. Enough to ruin him.

Kai freezes in his chair, breath catching so sharply the makeup artist pauses, frowning. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Kai says quickly, nodding. “Sorry.”

But his mind is no longer in the room.

Beomgyu’s hair is styled back from his face, calculated and effortless all at once, dark strands framing sharp features. His eye makeup is smoky, heavy-lidded, dangerous in a way that feels intentional; crafted to lure, to unsettle. He looks like something sculpted rather than born, a beautiful god dressed in shadows and confidence.

Kai’s fingers curl into the armrests.

How is he supposed to do a unit shoot like this?

And then there’s the outfit. God. The outfit. A tight mesh sleeve clings to Beomgyu’s arm, the fabric stretched just enough to make his biceps stand out, veins faintly visible beneath the skin. The rest of the top leaves nothing to the imagination: toned chest, flat stomach, skin exposed in a way that feels unfair. Kai swallows hard, heat creeping up his neck.

He’s suddenly very, very aware of his own body.

He’s relieved, irrationally, that he worked out more before this shoot, that he kept up with training even when schedules got busy. The stylist brings over his outfit next, and Kai rises from the chair as they help him into it. A deep V-neck blazer, sharp and dramatic, exaggerated shoulder pads giving him a broader silhouette. The fabric skims his waist, structured but fluid, designed to make him look powerful instead of soft.

When he looks back in the mirror, he barely recognises himself.

“Wow,” someone murmurs behind him. “You look insane.”

Kai turns and finds Beomgyu standing there now, properly this time, eyes roaming over him without shame. There’s something different in his gaze today; still familiar, still warm, but sharpened by the concept, by the clothes, by the air between them.

“You too,” Kai blurts out, then flushes immediately. “I mean– hyung. You look… really cool.”

Beomgyu grins, pleased. “Just cool?”

Kai laughs nervously, shaking his head. “Pretty. Very. Extremely.”

That earns him a laugh, low and fond. Beomgyu steps closer, adjusting the lapel of Kai’s blazer with casual intimacy, fingers brushing his chest for just a second too long. Kai’s breath stutters, but Beomgyu seems blissfully unaware– or maybe very aware, which somehow feels worse.

“You don’t have to be so tense,” Beomgyu murmurs, echoing words Kai has heard before. “We’ve got this.”

Kai nods, even as his heart thunders against his ribs. Just a shoot. Just Vogue. Just standing inches away from the person he’s been in love with for longer than he’s willing to admit, both of them styled like this, asked to sell chemistry they don’t even have to fake.

They finally step onto set together, the space dim and purposefully intimate, lights angled low and warm so shadows pool in the hollows of collarbones and along jawlines. The backdrop is simple: textured fabric, dark and soft, meant to disappear so nothing distracts from the two of them. Kai swallows as he takes it in, suddenly acutely aware of every inch of his body, of how close Beomgyu is walking beside him, shoulder nearly brushing his own.

The photographer greets them with an easy smile and a clipboard tucked under one arm. “Okay,” he says, clapping his hands once. “Today is all about chemistry. Sensuality. Intimacy without being obvious.” His eyes flick between them, sharp and knowing. “You’re not performing for the camera. You’re reacting to each other. I want tension. I want it to feel like something is about to happen, even if it never does.”

Kai feels his face heat up immediately. Each word lands heavier than the last, settling somewhere deep in his chest. Sensuality. Intimacy. About to happen. He risks a glance at Beomgyu from the corner of his eye and is unfairly reassured by how composed he looks; relaxed posture, chin tilted slightly up, lips neutral but confident. Like this is just another concept, another day at work.

Kai straightens his shoulders, trying to mirror that calm, even though inside he feels like screaming.

“Let’s start simple,” the photographer continues. “Stand close. Not touching yet. Face each other.”

They do. The distance between them shrinks to almost nothing, just enough space for breath. Kai can smell Beomgyu now – clean, warm, something faintly spicy underneath – and it makes his head spin. Beomgyu’s gaze lifts, meeting Kai’s without hesitation, dark and steady. Kai’s breath catches, but he holds the look, refuses to look away.

“Good,” the photographer murmurs. “Now don’t think. Just feel.”

The camera clicks.

Kai becomes painfully aware of his breathing, of how Beomgyu’s chest rises and falls just inches away, of the way their exhalations seem to mingle in the small space between them. Beomgyu’s eyes flick briefly to Kai’s lips before returning to his eyes, and the movement is so subtle Kai almost convinces himself he imagined it. Almost.

“Closer,” the photographer says.

They obey. Kai’s blazer brushes against the mesh of Beomgyu’s sleeve, fabric sliding against skin. The contact is light and accidental but it might as well be a spark. Kai’s hands curl slightly at his sides, resisting the instinct to reach out. Beomgyu’s jaw tightens just a fraction, a tell Kai knows too well.

“Hold that,” the photographer says, voice low. “Kai, tilt your head. Beomgyu, look at him like you’re daring him.”

Beomgyu does. The look he gives Kai is heavy-lidded in a way that makes Kai’s stomach drop. It’s confident, almost predatory, and it sends heat flooding through Kai’s veins. He forgets the cameras. For a moment, he forgets everything except the way Beomgyu is looking at him like this is real.

The shutter goes wild.

“Beautiful,” someone whispers from behind the monitors.

They shift poses, guided gently but firmly. Beomgyu’s hand comes up to rest at Kai’s waist, fingers splayed against the fabric of his blazer. It’s meant to be controlled and professionalbut the warmth of it seeps straight through, anchoring Kai in place. Kai’s own hand lifts, hesitates, then settles against Beomgyu’s shoulder, thumb brushing the edge of the mesh sleeve.

“Don’t be afraid of the touch,” the photographer encourages. “That’s the point.”

Kai swallows and lets himself lean in just a little. Their foreheads nearly touch now, noses almost brushing. Beomgyu’s breath ghosts across his cheek, and Kai’s heart is pounding so loudly he’s sure it must be audible. Beomgyu tilts his head, just enough that his lips hover near Kai’s ear.

“You’re doing fine,” he murmurs, so quietly only Kai can hear.

The reassurance almost undoes him.

They move again. Beomgyu stands behind Kai this time, one arm braced on the wall beside him, the other resting lightly at his hip. Kai leans back instinctively, spine pressing into Beomgyu’s chest. The contact sends a shiver through him that he can’t fully hide.

“Yes,” the photographer says sharply. “That. Stay there.”

Beomgyu’s chin dips, hovering near Kai’s shoulder, his face close enough that Kai can feel the heat of him, the steady presence at his back. Kai closes his eyes on instinct, lips parting slightly as he exhales.

“Open your eyes,” the photographer says. “Look at the camera like you’re being watched.”

Kai does, gaze heavy and unfocused, while Beomgyu looks at him instead, eyes dark with something unreadable. 

The shoot stretches on like this, poses flowing into one another, proximity never easing. Fingers brushing wrists. Knuckles grazing collarbones. A hand at the nape of a neck, a thumb tracing the line of a jaw. Every touch is brief, controlled, but loaded with intention, with a tension that coils tighter with every click of the camera.

By the end, Kai feels wrung out, nerves humming, heart still racing. When the photographer finally calls a break, he exhales shakily, only then realizing how tightly he’d been wound.

Beomgyu steps back, giving him space at last, but his smile is soft, satisfied. “See?” he says lightly. “Told you we’ve got this.”

Kai laughs breathlessly, nodding, even as his hands tremble just a little at his sides. He can still feel the phantom warmth of Beomgyu’s touch, the weight of his gaze.

They gather around the monitor, still warm from the lights and the closeness, shoulders almost touching as the staff flips through the previews. Kai leans in despite himself, breath catching the moment the first image fills the screen. It’s everything the photographer promised and more. Dark, intimate, charged. The way Beomgyu’s hand rests at his waist looks like it’s meant to be there, possessive even. The way Kai’s fingers curl into Beomgyu’s sleeve looks like instinct, like he’s afraid to let go.

“Oh,” someone behind them murmurs. “These are out of this world.”

Kai barely hears it. His eyes trace the images greedily, heart hammering as if he’s seeing them for the first time, as if he wasn’t there when they were taken. From the outside, it’s obvious. The tension, the closeness, the way their bodies seem to naturally align. In one photo, their foreheads are almost touching, noses a breath apart, eyes heavy and unfocused. In another, Beomgyu is behind him, chin near his shoulder, gaze burning into Kai’s profile while Kai stares at the camera like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

It’s sexy and sultry. Intimate in a way that feels dangerous.

Kai swallows hard, nerves buzzing under his skin. Seeing it like this, frozen and undeniable, makes his chest ache. Every lingering touch he remembers from the shoot flares back to life, lighting him up from the inside. He feels exposed, like the photos have peeled something private out of him and put it on display for the world to see.

Beside him, Beomgyu lets out a low whistle, clearly pleased. He leans closer, their arms brushing again, and Kai almost jumps at the contact.

“We look so good together, don’t we?” Beomgyu says, casual and warm, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Kai’s throat closes. He nods weakly, staring at the screen because he knows if he looks at Beomgyu right now, he might actually combust. His voice refuses to cooperate, stuck somewhere between his racing heart and his lungs. All he can manage is a small, breathless hum of agreement.

Does he know? Kai wonders wildly. Does Beomgyu know what he does to him, how a simple sentence like that sends his pulse spiralling, how it makes something fragile and hopeful bloom painfully in his chest? If he does, then it’s unfair. Cruel, even, to say it so lightly, to smile like that while Kai is falling apart piece by piece.

Beomgyu, oblivious or pretending to be, keeps watching the screen, eyes bright with satisfaction. Kai stays right where he is, hands clenched together, heart pounding, letting the ache and the warmth and the impossible want wash over him all at once.

🐧🧸

do it for love @gyutiful · 8h ago

beomkai i know what you are... #BeomKaiOnVogue

boobinnie @boobin · 7h ago

why am i seeing gay soft porn on my tl... #BeomKaiOnVogue

boop @huemo · 7h ago

this homoeroticism is taking over my brain #BeomKaiOnVogue

no labels repeater @yeonddunie · 6h ago

never have i ever in the history of kpop see something more gay than this #BeomKaiOnVogue

Huening Kai Hourly @huekahour · 5h ago

Kai looks otherworldly... #HUENINGKAI #BeomKaiOnVogue

soobin's pet @trustiezzues · 5h ago

fruit basket on the cover of vogue? #BeomKaiOnVogue

BEOMKAI ENJOYER @huebeoms · 5h ago

being a beomkaist my entire moa career has lead me to this very moment... the beomkai revolution is here...

meongie @yongchoon · 5h ago

BL name?

🐧🧸

The aftermath of the magazine shoot is immediate and impossible to ignore. The photos hit the internet like a controlled burn that very quickly becomes a wildfire; screenshots circulating within minutes, fancams being replaced by Vogue stills, timelines saturated with breathless captions and zoomed-in details. MOAs and non-fans alike talk about the chemistry, about the way their bodies angle toward each other like magnets, about how the space between them feels charged even in still images. The words sultry and homoerotic gets thrown around so often it almost loses meaning, but somehow still fits.

During their next few schedules, the other members don’t let it rest for even a second. Yeonjun exaggerates by teasing them whenever Beomgyu and Kai stand too close, Taehyun deadpans about them being the new Gumz which earns an indignant protest from Soobin. Beomgyu laughs it off with ease, confident and unbothered, while Kai flushes and stumbles over his words which only makes the teasing worse, the editors delighting in every reaction shot.

They were always close. Everyone knew that. Beomgyu and Kai had always gravitated toward each other naturally, orbiting in the same space, shoulders bumping, voices overlapping, laughter coming easy. But after everything, after the interviews and the shoots and the long hours spent together under the pretence of work, something shifts. It’s subtle at first, then impossible to ignore.

They become inseparable.

Somewhere along the way, the line between teasing and truth blurs entirely, because Beomgyu and Kai stop bothering to pretend there’s any separation between them at all. They sit together by default now, move in quiet tandem, hands brushing so often it stops being accidental. Kai gravitates toward Beomgyu without thinking, and Beomgyu lets him, always does, an arm slung over Kai’s shoulders or a hand resting warm at his waist like it belongs there. Staff start referring to them as a pair without realising it, fans point out how they arrive and leave together, how they share earbuds, snacks, space. Official schedules end, but they’re still together laughing, whispering, leaning in. Inseparable isn’t a concept anymore, it’s just the state of things. And if the camera catches it, if the internet runs wild with it, and well... neither of them seems particularly inclined to stop it now.

Somehow, without a conversation, sleeping arrangements change too.

It starts off accidental. One late night where they fall asleep watching something on Kai’s bed, the laptop still open, Beomgyu’s arm heavy across Kai’s waist. Another where Beomgyu complains he’s too tired to walk back to his own room and Kai shrugs and makes space. Then it just becomes the default. Kai’s bed is bigger. Kai’s room is warmer. Kai doesn’t kick in his sleep the way the other members do. Beomgyu starts leaving spare clothes there, then a charger, then suddenly his presence feels permanent.

The other members notice, of course.

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow every time he sees them emerge from Kai’s room in the morning, hair messy, shoulders brushing. Taehyun gives them knowing looks that make Kai bristle, and Soobin openly stares, lips twitching like he’s holding back commentary. Kai glares them all into silence, heart racing, terrified someone might say something out loud where Beomgyu can hear.

Beomgyu never does. Or if he notices, he doesn’t comment. He just keeps smiling, keeps sticking close, keeps choosing Kai over and over again in a thousand small, quiet ways.

They start spending their free days together too. Grocery runs that turn into long walks. Restaurants where they sit for hours talking about nothing and everything. Beomgyu listens when Kai rambles, really listens, eyes soft and focused like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. Kai, in turn, memorises Beomgyu’s habits without meaning to. How he likes his coffee. Which snacks he reaches for first. The way he gets quieter when he’s tired.

Eventually, Kai asks Beomgyu if he wants to join him with his family at home. It’s just for a weekend, he says, trying to sound casual. My mum asked if you wanted to come. Beomgyu agrees immediately, like it’s obvious, like there was never a question. Kai’s nerves don’t settle the entire drive, but the moment they arrive, everything clicks.

Hiyyih greets Beomgyu enthusiastically, dragging him inside and peppering him with questions. Lea follows soon after, more reserved but just as warm, laughing easily when Beomgyu jokes with her. Kai watches it all with a strange swelling in his chest, something tender and overwhelming. Beomgyu fits too easily, like he belongs there.

It doesn’t help that his mum adores him. His grandma holds Beomgyu’s hands and tells him he’s handsome, that he looks kind. Beomgyu blushes deeply, bows politely, thanks her with a sincerity that makes Kai’s throat tighten. They cook together, laugh over dinner, sit shoulder to shoulder in the living room while Kai’s sisters tease them mercilessly.

“You two are always glued together,” Hiyyih says, grinning. “It’s cute.”

Kai nearly chokes, glaring at his younger sister when she winks. Beomgyu just laughs, easy and unbothered, leaning closer like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

That night, Kai lies awake in his childhood bed, Beomgyu beside him, breathing slow and steady. The room smells familiar. Kai stares at the ceiling, heart full to the point of aching, and thinks, absurdly, that this is what happiness might feel like if he lets himself believe in it.

Beomgyu returns the favour not long after.

Kai spends time with Beomgyu’s family with the same nerves, the same fluttering hope. Beomgyu’s parents welcome him warmly like they always do, proud and curious. Beomgyu sticks close the entire time, hand brushing Kai’s wrist when he laughs too loud, shoulder nudging him gently when conversation lulls. Kai feels cherished in a way that makes his chest hurt.

They walk around Beomgyu’s neighbourhood together, reminiscing, sharing stories Kai has never heard before. Beomgyu shows him places that matter. Kai listens like every word is precious.

By the time they’re back in Seoul, it feels like there’s no going back to how things were before.

They fall asleep tangled together most nights now, limbs naturally fitting, breaths syncing without effort. Kai presses his face into Beomgyu’s chest, listens to his heartbeat, tells himself not to overthink it. Not to want more than this. Not to hope.

But hope sneaks in anyway, quiet and persistent.

At one point, they’re sprawled across Kai’s bed in an easy tangle, the laptop balanced precariously on their thighs, some mindless variety show playing in the background. Beomgyu’s arm is slung over Kai’s waist, thumb idly tracing the hem of his shirt, and Kai is only half-watching the screen, more focused on the steady rise and fall of Beomgyu’s chest beneath his cheek. It feels normal now, so domestic that it makes Kai’s heart feel too full for his ribs.

It’s Beomgyu who breaks the quiet.

“Kai-yah,” he says suddenly, voice gentle but thoughtful, “why have you been doing all this lately?”

Kai stiffens before he can stop himself. “Doing what?” he asks, too quickly, pitching his voice into something light and oblivious. He keeps his eyes on the screen, like the punchline of a joke is coming any second now.

Beomgyu shifts beside him, propping himself up on one elbow. The movement alone makes Kai’s pulse spike. “You know,” Beomgyu says. “All the compliments. The clinging. The way you’re always choosing me.” He smiles faintly, but there’s something searching in his eyes. “You didn’t used to be like this. Not this… obvious, at least.”

Kai’s stomach drops.

He laughs, a little too loud, a little too forced. “Hyung, I’ve always been like this,” he says, waving a hand vaguely. “You’re just imagining things.”

Beomgyu doesn’t laugh back. “No,” he says quietly. “You’ve changed.”

Panic blooms hot and fast in Kai’s chest. His thoughts trip over each other, every careful line he’s drawn in his head collapsing all at once. If he tells the truth now, he might ruin everything. If he doesn’t, he might still ruin everything, just slower.

“It’s just fanservice,” he blurts, the words tumbling out before he can soften them. “The company talked to me about it, remember? Said that it was good for the group, so… yeah. I’m just keeping it up.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, the air changes.

Beomgyu goes very still. His arm slips away from Kai’s waist, the warmth disappearing so suddenly it almost hurts. For a second, his face is completely unreadable, like a door closing behind his eyes.

“Oh,” he says.

Kai turns to look at him properly then, heart hammering. “Hyung, it’s not a bad thing,” he rushes to add. “I mean, it’s working, right? MOAs like it, and–”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu cuts in, already sitting up. His voice is calm, too calm. “I get it.”

He swings his legs off the bed and stands, smoothing down his shirt like this is just another ordinary night. Kai sits up too, confusion and dread tangling tight in his chest.

“Where are you going?” Kai asks.

“I’m going to sleep in my room tonight,” Beomgyu says, not looking at him.

Kai blinks. “Why?”

Beomgyu hesitates, just for a fraction of a second. “I’m tired,” he says finally. “We’ve… been spending a lot of time together.”

Before Kai can say anything else, Beomgyu turns and walks out.

Kai scrambles off the bed and follows, heart pounding louder with every step. “Hyung?” he calls softly as Beomgyu reaches his door. 

Beomgyu doesn’t answer. He steps inside, and a second later, Kai hears it: the click of the lock sliding into place. Kai freezes in the hallway.

Beomgyu never locks his door. 

Kai stands there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, his reflection faint in the dark wood. His chest feels hollow, like something vital has been scooped out and left behind. He presses his lips together, trying to make sense of it all.

Maybe Beomgyu just needs space, he tells himself weakly. They’ve been together constantly for months. Anyone would get overwhelmed. This doesn’t have to mean anything more than that.

Still, when Kai eventually turns back to his own room, the bed feels far too big and far too empty, and no amount of logic can quite quiet the uneasy ache settling deep in his chest.

🐧🧸

The shift is immediate, and it’s brutal.

Beomgyu avoids him like the plague.

At first, Kai thinks he’s imagining it. That he’s just being sensitive because of the locked door, because of the sudden cold space in his bed at night, but then it keeps happening. During schedules, Beomgyu positions himself on the opposite side of the room. During shoots, he finds someone else to stand next to, laughs a little too loudly at jokes Kai didn’t make. In waiting rooms, where they used to sit shoulder to shoulder, Beomgyu is suddenly glued to his phone or deep in conversation with staff. If Kai approaches, Beomgyu excuses himself within seconds, slipping away like smoke through Kai’s fingers.

Kai tries everything. 

He calls Beomgyu’s name softly, then louder. He sends messages that go unread for hours. He offers snacks. He jokes. He acts normal, acts clingy, acts like nothing has changed because surely if he pretends hard enough, things will go back to the way they were.

They don’t.

By the third day, Kai’s chest hurts constantly. By the fifth, he feels hollow. By the seventh, he’s exhausted from holding back tears in public and crying quietly into his pillow at night. He replays that conversation over and over in his head, analysing every word, every pause, every look on Beomgyu’s face.

What did I do wrong?

He thought calling it fanservice would make it easier. He never imagined it would hurt like this.

It’s after practice, late and quiet, when Kai finally decides to confide in Taehyun. Kai walks into Taehyun’s room and walks over to the bed where the latter is lying. Taehyun takes one look at him and sighs like the weight of the world has just been dropped onto his shoulders.

“Okay,” Taehyun says, patting the spot beside him. Kai immediately flops next to him. “Spill.”

Kai doesn’t even resist. The words tumble out of him, messy and emotional. He tells Taehyun everything. About the cuddling. The sleeping in the same bed. The question Beomgyu asked. The panic. The fanservice lie. The way Beomgyu pulled away like Kai had burned him. The locked door. The silence that followed.

When he finishes, his voice cracks. “I don’t know what I did,” he whispers. “I swear I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

Taehyun rubs his face slowly, then exhales through his nose. “God,” he mutters.

“What?” Kai sniffles. “What is it?”

Taehyun turns to him, eyes sharp and tired. “Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this,” he says flatly, “but you’re too much of an idiot to fucking realise it anyway.”

“Hey!” Kai protests weakly.

Taehyun ignores him. “Beomgyu-hyung likes you back, idiot.”

Kai freezes. “Huh?”

“I said,” Taehyun repeats, louder, slower, “Beomgyu-hyung. Likes. You.”

Kai stares at him like he’s just spoken in another language. “No,” he says automatically. “That’s not– you’re joking.”

“I am absolutely not joking,” Taehyun snaps. “Why do you think he’s been playing along with your stupid little ‘fanservice’ bullshit this whole time? You think he just likes sleeping in your bed for fanservice? The fans can’t even see that!”

Kai’s mouth opens, then closes. His brain refuses to catch up.

Taehyun keeps going, merciless. “He treats you completely differently than the rest of us. Even Soobin hyung. You’re the only one he looks at like that. The only one he’s gentle with like that. The only one he gets jealous over. You’re just too dense to– hey, where are you going?”

Kai is already on his feet.

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t think. His heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of his chest. He sprints down the hallway, barely registering Taehyun calling after him. He skids to a stop in front of Beomgyu’s door and twists the handle.

Unlocked.

Thank every god that has ever existed.

He barges inside without knocking. “BEOMGYU-HYUNG, I LIKE YOU!”

The words echo.

Kai only then registers that Soobin is also in the room, perched on Beomgyu’s bed, phone in hand. Soobin blinks. Once. Twice.

“Um,” Soobin says carefully, standing up. “I’m gonna… give you guys some space.”

He passes Kai on the way out, ruffles his hair aggressively, and gives him a quick noogie. 

“Hyung!” Kai whines, swatting at him. The door clicks shut behind Soobin, leaving Kai alone with Beomgyu for the first time in a week.

The silence is deafening.

Beomgyu is standing near his desk, frozen, eyes wide, game paused. He looks… stunned, but underneath it all something raw flickers in his gaze.

Kai’s courage wavers for exactly half a second.

Then he steps forward.

“Hyung,” he says, voice shaking now that the initial adrenaline has worn off. “I like you. I’ve liked you ever since I first saw you as a trainee.” He swallows hard, fists clenched at his sides. “You were so cool! And I didn’t even know I liked guys at that point, all I knew was that I had a crush on you.”

The words feel terrifying and freeing all at once.

“And I lied,” Kai continues, words rushing out before fear can stop them. “About the fanservice thing. Management didn’t tell me anything. I made it up because… because I wanted an excuse to be closer to you and I didn’t think you’d ever like me back and I didn’t want to ruin what we had and–”

His voice cracks completely. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry if I annoyed you or worse, hurt you. That wasn’t my intention. I just… I like you. I have for a really long time.”

Beomgyu doesn’t speak right away.

Kai doesn’t stop talking.

Kai doesn’t even realise he’s started pacing until his feet begin to hurt, words tumbling out of him faster than his thoughts can keep up.

“I don’t even know when it started,” he blurts, voice breathless, hands gesturing uselessly in the air. “It was small, I swear. Like– I just thought you were a cool hyung. But you kept being everywhere around me all the time and you were so talented that I admired you a lot.”

He lets out a shaky laugh, the kind that sounds like it might turn into something else if he lets it linger.

“And then suddenly it wasn’t small anymore,” he continues, softer now, eyes flicking anywhere but Beomgyu’s face. “It got big without me noticing, and by the time I realised, it was already too late.”

Kai swallows, shoulders rising with a breath he seems to have been holding for years.

“It feels like it’s been forever,” he says. “Like every year you somehow get kinder. And funnier. And more unbearable to look at, which is seriously unfair, by the way. You’re so pretty, hyung, it drives me crazy.”

He finally looks up then, expression open and raw, all the walls he usually keeps so carefully in place completely gone.

“You make me feel safe,” Kai admits, voice dropping to something fragile. “Like… actually safe. Like I can finally relax when you’re around. Being with you feels like home.”

His fingers curl into the fabric of his sleeves, grounding himself.

“And I never get tired of you,” he adds quickly, almost desperately. “Not even when we’re doing nothing. Not even when we’re just lying there in silence. I have so much fun with you even then.”

The words slow, but they don’t stop.

“I just… I always want to be with you, hyung,” Kai finishes, voice barely above a whisper. “I like you so much it hurts sometimes and I didn’t want to mess things up and I thought if I just pretended it was fanservice then at least I could–”

Beomgyu stands up so suddenly Kai startles.

“Hyung–?”

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence.

Beomgyu closes the distance in two long steps and grabs Kai by the front of his hoodie, pulling him forward into a kiss that knocks the rest of Kai’s thoughts clean out of his head. It’s not gentle. It’s desperate and full and real, like Beomgyu has been holding this back just as long. Kai freezes for half a heartbeat, eyes wide, the reality of it crashing into him all at once.

Then he melts.

His hands come up on instinct, gripping Beomgyu’s shirt, pulling him closer like he’s afraid he might disappear. Beomgyu’s lips are warm and firm, moving against his with an urgency that makes Kai’s knees go weak. There’s no rush for anything more, just the kiss, pressed close, breaths stuttering and uneven.

When they finally pull apart, Kai’s lips are tingling and his brain feels completely scrambled.

Beomgyu rests his forehead against Kai’s, eyes dark but soft, thumb brushing along Kai’s jaw. “You’re really bad at pretending,” he says quietly, a fond huff of a laugh escaping him. “Did you know that?”

Kai lets out a shaky laugh of his own. “I do now.”

“I knew it wasn’t just fanservice,” Beomgyu continues. “You don’t look at someone like that for show. You don’t cling like that for the cameras.” His thumb pauses at Kai’s chin. “I played along because I liked you too. I was just waiting for you to say it out loud.”

Guilt flares up again, sharp and immediate. “I’m sorry,” Kai blurts. “Hyung, I’m really, really sorry.”

Beomgyu hums, pretending to think, then tilts his head slightly. “You can apologise properly,” he says, lips curving. “By kissing me some more.”

Kai doesn’t need to be told twice.

He leans in eagerly this time, kissing Beomgyu again, softer but no less heartfelt, a smile breaking through against Beomgyu’s mouth. Beomgyu laughs quietly into the kiss and pulls him closer, arms wrapping around Kai like that’s exactly where he belongs.

And finally, after seven years, Kai doesn’t feel like he has to pretend at all.