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Ohyul had finished showering a while ago, dampness still clinging to his skin. He sat on his bed with his phone in one hand, absentmindedly scrolling through posts about the group.
The ends of his hair were still slightly wet, curling where they brushed against the collar of his shirt. Every so often he reached up and pushed a strand away from his eyes, his attention mostly absorbed in the endless stream of comments filling the screen.
Shortly after, his bedroom door opened quietly and Ryul stepped inside, freshly showered as well. He pulled the door closed behind him with a click and lingered there for a second, leaning his shoulder against the wood. The harsh fluorescent light overhead was the only light in the room, washing everything in pale brightness.
He smelled like the same body wash they all used, but beneath that, Ohyul could always pick him out immediately, even in a crowded room.
Ohyul set his phone aside the moment Ryul came over. “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Ryul sat beside him and shook his head faintly. Instead of answering, he leaned over and kissed his cheek. Ohyul leaned into it before returning the kiss a moment later. They both smiled when they pulled back, settling close together.
Moments like this didn’t happen often anymore. Most nights one of them was already asleep by the time the other finished practice, or buried in work while the other tried to rest.
From the common area outside their room, the muffled sounds of Louis and Woojin occasionally drifted through the door. They were probably still working on music together, hashing out little details.
“What’re you up to?” Ryul asked casually, but he didn’t need to ask. Ohyul had developed the habit of checking fan comments every day. He insisted it was part of being the leader, to know what people thought about them, what fans liked, what they didn’t, what needed improving.
Ryul understood the reasoning behind it. Ohyul was mentally strong enough to handle criticism- maybe stronger than anyone else in the group, but Ryul still felt it would wear on anyone.
“You know those people don’t get paid to be nice, right?”
Ohyul huffed softly, his finger finally pausing. “And?”
“And I was wondering if you saw what people were saying about today’s interview.”
“Hm?” Ohyul froze for a second. Ryul’s mouth curved slowly into a grin and Ohyul already knew exactly what was coming.
“…What was that about us being Lngshot’s parents?” Ryul asked, tilting his head slightly. His expression held his usual mischief. “Hm?”
Ohyul rolled his eyes, the tips of his ears flushing pink. “You know it’s what the fans like to hear.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason, hyung?” Ryul responded gleefully. Being born a week before Chinese New Year was enough to make Ohyul a hyung, even though they were born in the same calendar year.
They had both presented as alphas not long ago, and their bodies were still in the restless stage of adjustment. The change had shifted the way they moved, the way they reacted to closeness. It wasn’t uncommon for two alphas sharing a space to clash during that period as instincts sharpened.
But Ryul and Ohyul had never really worked like that. They were headstrong, both competitive in their own ways, both used to taking responsibility and pushing themselves harder than anyone else around them. Yet whatever instinct that might have made two young alphas clash seemed to melt away in front of the bond they already shared.
They had been together since their trainee days, after all. It had developed through the exhausting rhythm of training to sitting side by side on the studio floor afterward, sharing water bottles. Or walking back to the dorm long after everyone else had gone to sleep, jumping from one thought to another because neither of them wanted the conversation to end.
Somewhere along the way, the line between friendship and something deeper had simply stopped existing. The pull between them had always been there but now it was simply harder to ignore.
The memories made Ryul smile faintly as he leaned closer. Up close, Ohyul smelled even better. His natural scent was masculine in a grounded way that fit him perfectly. Call him biased, but Ryul had always thought it was unfair how good he smelled. Pretty, even, although he had thought that before their scents had fully developed.
A small shiver passed through Ohyul as Ryul’s hand found his side, fingers brushing gently over the thin fabric of his shirt.
Ohyul kept himself in beautiful shape, disciplined in a way that sometimes bordered on obsessive. His routines were strict, with early runs when schedules allowed it, extra conditioning after dance practice, and careful meal planning to top it off. The results were impossible to ignore. Ryul could feel the defined lines of muscle along Ohyul’s side. His body was warm too, heat radiating through the fabric where Ryul’s fingers rested.
Ryul let his hand linger, feeling the subtle flex of muscle when Ohyul shifted. Ohyul’s breathing had deepened slightly, his chest rising a little slower than before, the air leaving him through parted lips.
Louis always liked to joke that Ryul smelled like a temple, something about incense burning and forests. Ryul would always argue that Louis had never stepped foot inside a temple in his life. Louis would shrug and insist it was true anyway, sometimes adding that Ryul smelled like a Korean grandpa.
The kid was cute, even if he talked too much. Ohyul was very fond of him too.
But Louis wasn’t here right now- right now it was just the two of them, and Ryul knew very well the effect his scent had on Ohyul.
Ohyul had admitted it once, during a moment they were far too distracted to guard their words. Ryul felt the evidence of that now in the way Ohyul leaned in, just enough to breathe him in. His fingers closed around Ryul’s arm and tugged him closer without much warning.
The twin mattress dipped under their weight as Ryul let himself be pulled down. There wasn’t much room on the bed but that had never stopped them before. Their shoulders bumped together, legs tangled awkwardly as they shifted to fit.
Ohyul turned toward him, hands coming to rest against Ryul’s chest, fingers cold compared to the warmth of the rest of his body. They always were- cool hands, warm everywhere else.
Ryul rolled onto his side, one arm sliding around Ohyul’s back as he pulled him closer, fitting them together on the narrow mattress. This close, their scents began to mingle, warm and heavy in the small room, settling low in Ryul’s abdomen.
“We have to get up early tomorrow,” Ohyul said after a moment, releasing a slow breath.
Ryul hummed faintly. “I didn’t say I was going to do anything,” he replied, sounding perfectly innocent. “...Were you?”
Ohyul shifted, trying to create space between them and failing entirely. The mattress was too small for that and whatever distance he meant to create never quite materialized.
Ryul watched him with quiet amusement.
“So,” he continued casually, “have you been thinking about it?”
Ohyul glanced at him warily. “About what.”
Ryul tilted his head. “Us as Mom and Dad.”
Color flooded Ohyul’s face immediately, spreading across his cheekbones and creeping down his neck. He pushed Ryul’s wandering hand away with more embarrassment than force.
“Ryul.” The way he said his name carried a spineless warning.
Ryul only blinked up at him, wide-eyed and sweet. “What?”
Ohyul gave him a long look. “You know what.”
A slow grin spread across Ryul’s face. “So cute, hyung,” he murmured. He leaned in, closing the small distance between them, and their lips met in a soft kiss.
Mint lingered faintly on Ohyul’s breath, cool against the warmth of Ryul’s mouth. The kiss deepened slowly, unhurried and easy in a way that only came from long familiarity.
Ohyul made the smallest sound when their mouths touched again, and Ryul smiled against his lips, lingering just a little longer. Ohyul was always so composed around everyone else, which only made watching that composure fall apart one of Ryul’s favorite pastimes.
A chair scraped faintly somewhere in the common area outside the room. Ohyul pulled back instinctively, his gaze flicking toward the door.
Ryul watched the movement- the small swallow in Ohyul’s throat, the way his lashes lowered and lifted as he listened. Ryul had always thought Ohyul’s eyelashes were unfairly beautiful. Long and dark, framing eyes that were already striking on their own.
“The kids have their headphones on,” Ryul noted casually. Perhaps more of an invitation than assurance.
In truth, he only recalled seeing Louis wearing headphones earlier. Woojin, he wasn’t so sure about, but Ohyul seemed to accept the answer anyway.
Ryul’s hand drifted lower again, fingers tracing the line of Ohyul’s hipbone before sliding over the soft curve of his hip. He hummed softly under his breath, pleased.
Ohyul’s legs twitched slightly, a tiny reflex he couldn’t quite hide. The hem of his shirt had ridden up slightly during their shifting, and Ryul’s hand slipped beneath it, palm brushing warm skin.
Their legs tangled again as they adjusted on the cramped mattress and Ryul’s thigh slid between Ohyul’s. The movement brushed against the faint ridge of scar tissue high on the inside of Ohyul’s thigh, a place Ryul knew well.
The mark had long since healed, pale and slightly raised. It was the only place they had ever allowed themselves to leave something permanent as visible marks were out of the question.
It wasn’t a true mating mark, but between them, it held similar significance.
Ryul shifted deliberately, letting his leg brush the scar again. Ohyul’s thighs drew a little closer around him.
The memory rose effortlessly- his own hesitation, teeth skimming the inside of Ohyul’s thigh as he lingered. Ohyul had already been open around him, but then he parted his legs a little wider, quietly giving Ryul the permission he’d been too careful to ask for.
A spark of pride stirred in Ryul’s chest. In a real fight between them, either of them could have won, which made it mean even more that Ohyul had entrusted him with that brief moment of surrender.
Ohyul’s hips rocked faintly before he stilled them, breath catching sharp in his chest. Heat flushed across his face as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Ryul’s. They stayed like that momentarily, close enough to share the same breath. Then Ohyul exhaled slowly, his eyes fluttering shut.
They both knew it wasn’t a good idea to go any further.
Schedules had been brutal lately, packed so tightly there was barely room to breathe. The rare moments they had alone together felt precious, but they came with limits.
They couldn’t leave marks makeup couldn’t hide, and they couldn’t do anything that might affect performances. Ohyul had learned that lesson the hard way once after spending the night with Ryul and arriving at practice determined to behave like nothing had happened.
By the end of warmups he was half a beat behind everyone else, earning far too many knowing looks for his liking.
Never again.
So Ryul’s hand stilled where it rested against Ohyul’s side.
Ohyul’s hand came down over Ryul’s wrist, just holding it there for a moment longer. His fingers were now warm against Ryul’s skin.
Eventually, Ryul’s thumb traced one last line before his hand slipped free from beneath the shirt. The tension in the room eased almost immediately.
Ohyul leaned back against his pillow with a quiet exhale, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to settle himself again. His breathing gradually evened out, though a faint warmth still colored his cheeks.
Ryul could still smell the lingering frustration in his scent.
It stirred something similar in his own chest, an echo of the same restless ache. Part of him wished they didn’t have to stop, wished they had the time and space to let things unfold naturally instead of always pulling themselves back at the last moment.
But even with that quiet disappointment, Ryul couldn’t help the small, fond smile that tugged at his mouth.
They were still here, after all, tangled together on the narrow bed.
“You know,” Ryul said casually, “you’re not totally wrong.”
Ohyul glanced at him, one eyebrow lifting.
“About you being Lngshot’s mom.”
“Oh my god,” Ohyul muttered flatly, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re still on this.”
“I’m just saying.” Ryul tilted his head, studying him with obvious satisfaction. “You already act like it.”
“Act like what.”
Ryul held up a finger.
“Well, for one, you check Louis’s homework.”
Another finger.
“You make sure Woojin actually wakes up in the morning.”
“And?”
“You remind everyone to eat.”
“That’s called being the leader,” Ohyul said immediately.
“Or the mom.”
The pillow hit Ryul square in the chest this time.
He laughed as he caught it before it could fall, grinning up at Ohyul like this had been the expected outcome all along.
Ryul’s grin softened. “And you and I make a really great team, too,” he said quietly. There was no teasing in it this time, just love and certainty.
Ohyul felt the words sink somewhere deep in his chest and nodded once. For a moment Ryul simply watched him, letting the moment linger between them.
“So,” he added, the familiar playfulness returning to his voice, “if you’re the mom… does that make me the dad?”
Ohyul folded his arms across his chest in resistance, though the gesture had already lost most of its conviction. “I refuse to answer that.”
Ryul huffed out a quiet laugh, leaning a little closer. “You called me Dad first, honey,” he reminded him.
“Oh my god.” Ohyul shoved him again, but this time Ryul just caught his wrist and tugged him forward a few inches instead.
They ended up chest to chest and Ohyul looked like he might protest again, but the fight drained out of him just as quickly. For all the calm authority he carried everywhere else, he had never been able to keep that same distance with Ryul.
Something about Ryul always made him less guarded, more willing to stay close instead of pretending he didn’t want to.
Ryul slid an arm around his waist again, holding him close.
He liked this version of Ohyul best.
The one who leaned against him without thinking.
The one who let himself be close.
After a moment Ryul pressed a kiss to the side of his temple.
“Anyway,” he murmured against his hair, “I think the kids would probably see it the same way.”