Chapter Text
The digital clock on the microwave blinked at 02:14 AM. On the living room floor, the five members of Cortis were scattered across a minefield of discarded hoodies, half-empty bags of shrimp crackers and empty soda cans. The overhead lights were off, leaving only the warm glow of a single floor lamp and the television running on mute.
"If you drop another wild card, I'm throwing you off the balcony." Seonghyeon muttered. He sat perfectly straight, legs crossed, meticulously organizing his hand of cards.
"It’s a valid strategy! Survival of the fittest." Keonho chirped.
He sprawled flat on his stomach, chin propped in his hands, kicking his socks-clad feet in the air. He slithered forward a few inches, deliberately nudging his shoulder against Juhoon’s knee.
"Juhoonie, tell him it’s legal."
Juhoon looked up, blinking sleepily through a fringe of dark hair and offered a sweet smile. He was slumped back against the base of the sofa, his eyes half-closed, looking soft and ethereal in an oversized gray sweatshirt that swallowed his hands.
"I don’t even know what game we’re playing anymore. I have three Uno cards and two standard Jacks."
Martin laughed, leaning over to aggressively ruffle Juhoon’s hair.
"Because you let Keonho mix the decks three hours ago, you absolute airhead."
Martin’s chipped black nail polish caught the light as he snatched a cracker from the bag between Juhoon’s thighs, his knuckles intentionally brushing against Juhoon's thigh.
"Here, give me your hand. Let me fix it."
"Hey. Hands to yourself, punk," James said smoothly.
The eldest was sitting on the couch right above Juhoon. Unlike the others, he hadn't touched the cards all night, acting as the silent anchor of the chaos. Without breaking his gaze from the phone, James reached down, his long fingers tangling gently into the back of Juhoon’s collar and tugging him back just an inch, out of Martin’s immediate reach and firmly against the cushions by James's shins.
"Juhoon’s tired. Stop bothering him."
Without a second thought, Juhoon leaned into the touch, tilting his head back against James’s knee.
"James hyung is right. Martin’s cheating anyway."
"I am strategizing!" Martin protested. He threw a discarded wrapper at Keonho instead. "And the kid is definitely hiding a Draw-Four under his thigh."
"Am not!" Keonho gasped, rolling over dramatically to shield his space, his puppy-like eyes wide with faux offense.
As the two of them started a muffled wrestling match over a crumpled card, the atmosphere shifted just a fraction.
Seonghyeon’s gaze hadn't left the space where Martin’s hand had just been, nor the casual way James’s fingers now rested lightly on the nape of Juhoon’s neck, thumb tracing the edge of his hoodie. Seonghyeon’s jaw tightened a little before he placed a single card down on the carpet with a sharp Snap!
"Skip." Seonghyeon said, looking directly at Martin, his voice entirely devoid of its earlier fatigue.
"Which means it's my turn again. And I win."
"Wait, what?" Martin blinked, abandoning his chokehold on Keonho. "Since when do we play with double-turn rules?"
"Since we started."
Seonghyeon replied smoothly, his eyes flicking up to meet Juhoon’s sleepy gaze. He offered a small, razor-sharp smile. "Right, Juhoon hyung? You said those were the rules last week."
Juhoon, who was completely oblivious to the sudden undercurrent of tension stretching across the carpet, yawned sleepily. "If you say so, Seonghyeonie. You're always good at games."
"This is dead."
Martin groaned, tossing his remaining cards into the center of the floor with a dull thud. He stretched his arms over his head. His cropped black hoodie riding up to reveal a sliver of skin before slumping sideways until his shoulder knocked heavily against Juhoon’s.
"We’ve been playing the same three cards for an hour. I’m losing my mind."
"You're just mad because Seonghyeon wiped the floor with you," Keonho mumbled around a mouthful of banana milk, his cheeks puffed out like a hamster's.
"Shut up. I’m trying my best to save us from terminal boredom."
Martin tilted his head, his sharp eyes gleaming with chaotic mischief as they drifted from Keonho, past Seonghyeon, and finally landed on Juhoon, who was currently trying– and failing–to blink himself awake. A mischievous smirk spread across Martin’s face.
"Let’s raise the stakes. New rule for the next round."
"No betting money."
James said automatically from the couch, his fingers methodically gathering the scattered cards into a neat pile.
"Manager-hyung found out about the poker night last month and nearly had a stroke."
"Not money."
Martin said, voice dropping into a casual, teasing lilt. He reached out, his thumb casually playing with Juhoon’s earlobe.
"Whoever wins the round gets a reward. Juhoon has to sit on the winner’s lap until the next round."
The room went completely still.
The sudden absence of noise was loud. The rhythmic thwack-thwack-thwack of James shuffling the cards stopped mid-motion. The deck stayed split in his hands, his thumbs frozen on the edges of the paper. Up on the couch, his posture didn't change but his gaze dropped from his phone directly to the back of Martin’s head, his expression flattening into something unreadable and dangerously cold.
Across the circle, Seonghyeon’s head snapped up. It was a fraction of a second too fast for his usual composed demeanor. His dark eyes locked onto Martin sharply before looking down to Juhoon’s lap, then back up. He didn't utter a word but his fingers, which had been loosely holding his phone, tightened until his knuckles went pale.
Cough–hack–
Keonho suddenly choked, his eyes watering as he violently swallowed a gulp of banana milk. He slammed the carton down on the carpet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His wide eyes darting frantically between Martin and James like he had just walked into a minefield.
Yet Juhoon was the only one who didn't freeze. He let out a breathless laugh, burying his face in the oversized sleeve of his gray sweatshirt.
"Bro, what kind of penalty is that? I’m heavy. Your legs will go numb in five minutes."
"I have great circulation."
Martin countered easily, though the tip of his ear was faintly pink. He kept his tone breezy, a textbook display of casual confidence, but his eyes stayed fixed on Juhoon, waiting, testing the waters he had just muddied.
"I don't think it's a penalty." Seonghyeon said softly.
The voice was so quiet it barely carried across the room, but everyone heard it. Seonghyeon reached out and picked up the deck of cards that James had stopped shuffling, sliding them out of the eldest's unresisting fingers. He began to deal them out with slow precision. One for Martin. One for Keonho. One for himself. And one for Juhoon.
"If Juhoon hyung thinks he's too heavy, he can just sit on the floor between the winner's knees."
Seonghyeon added smoothly, not looking up from the cards.
"But rule is rule. If we're playing, we're playing it right."
Keonho looked at his cards like they were ticking time bombs. He cleared his throat, his playful puppy energy completely gone now, replaced by a strange, hyper-focused seriousness. He leaned forward, aggressively organizing his hand.
"I'm not losing this round," he muttered under his breath.
The easy, melting warmth of five minutes ago had morphed into something thick and heavy. Nobody was laughing anymore. The casual banter had vanished, replaced by an oppressive, suffocating focus.
Martin was leaning back on his hands, a smirk still plastered on his face but his eyes were now tracking Seonghyeon's hands. Above them, James slowly leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over Juhoon. James didn't ask for cards but he didn't move away either. His knee remained firmly pressed against Juhoon's shoulder like a silent anchor.
Slowly, Juhoon picked up the cards, his heart giving a strange little flutter against his ribs. He looked down at the colorful numbers in his hand, suddenly acutely aware of how close Martin was sitting next to him, how heavily James was breathing behind him and the way Seonghyeon’s eyes burned right through him from across the floor.
"Uh," Juhoon started, his voice dropping into a rare moment of hesitation. "Are we... are we actually playing this?"
"Deal the cards, Seonghyeon."
James commanded quietly from above, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. He didn't look at Juhoon but his hand came down, resting heavily on Juhoon’s shoulder, his fingers digging in just enough to keep him exactly where he was.
"Let's see who wins."