#Joshua 1:7 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wongyuseokie · 2 months ago

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Theories & Heartstrings | k.m.g

Chapter 1: Love at First Collision

Summary: As a writer with a mildly cynical take on love, you’ve always believed people have a “type”—a pattern they never stray from when it comes to dating. And Kim Mingyu? He’s the textbook definition of someone who wouldn’t go for someone like you, nor would you go for him. But you test your theory when a fateful run-in with your charming neighbour sparks an unexpected attraction.

The plan? Go on dates with him and count how many it takes before your heart gets involved—if it ever does. But Mingyu is unpredictable, effortlessly breaking down your carefully constructed walls with every smile, every late-night conversation, every moment that feels too easy to be just an experiment.

The real problem? Secrets never stay secrets for long. And when Mingyu finds out the truth behind your so-called theory, will it prove you right, or that love doesn’t follow the rules you thought it did?

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut

Word Count: 18,732 words im sorry i couldnt stop yapping

Pairings: Neighbor! Mingyu x Journalist! Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Neighbours AU! Fake Dating AU! (but only one is fake dating. It’ll make sense when you read it, lol). Non-Idol AU!.

Content Warnings: mentions of blood (nothing graphic), wonwoo is also yn's housemate, but they have a mildly flirty relationship. joshua cares too much about plants. strong language and mentions of food and alcohol. Y/N is pretty confused, quite lost in general about her feelings, and very much in denial. quite a bit of arguing, no one here is good with their emotions. Y/N will be very annoying here. I apologise, but the girl has trust issues. they go back and forth, I’m very sorry. she’s feeling insecure, but nothing too intense (she got sad because of alcohol). Smut Warnings: protected sex (sadly this happens once in the first chapter, and that’s it lol), oral (m & f receiving) big dick! Mingyu, because duh! Sex toy usage (using it on y/n and it’s a vibrator, it’s red if that helps?), multiple orgasms, overstimulation. Lots of spicy moments with a ton of teasing. Shower sex. Author's Note 1: I'd be remiss if I didn't thank the lovely people who helped beta this monster of a story. thank you @lovetaroandtaemin @nebulousbrainsoup @strxwberry-skiess for your patience time and love thank you guys so much!! Author's Note 2: welp here it is guys my last fic, ever, but good news, this is only chapter 1! Series Masterlist

“I am not picking up your tree, Joshua.” You held the phone to your ear, exasperated, as your best friend whined like a child on the other end.

“Y/N, please. First of all, she’s a plant, not a tree! Second, that plant is my baby. She can keep everything else in the breakup, but she’s not getting Lydia!”

You blinked. “You named a tree?”

“She’s a bonsai,” Joshua sniffled, voice wobbling with heartbreak. “And my bitch of an ex left her out on the front step to die. Lydia’s gonna freeze, Y/N.”

You sighed. “You’ve really lost it.”

“Nope. I gave her a human name on purpose. So now you feel guilty abandoning her.”

You groaned. “You’re emotionally manipulating me with a bonsai.”

Joshua smirked through the phone. “And it’s working, isn’t it?”

“Fine,” you grumbled. “But I swear to God, if I have to hear about Julie one more time—”

“Nope! Just Lydia,” he said quickly. “Please rescue my plant baby. I love you, bye!”

The call ended before you could protest again. You let out another sigh, tossed your phone on the desk, and returned to your open document.

Writing had always been your dream—getting to pour your thoughts into something tangible, something that made people feel. You’d started at your company writing fluffy lifestyle pieces—“Make Your Apartment Your Sanctuary,” and “7 Houseplants That Won’t Die Instantly”—but lately, you'd taken control.

Now you led the Lifestyle and Well-Being column, tackling everything from relationship advice to self-love, and yes, even that viral review on the best adult toys on the market. The one that made your editor blush and your DMs explode.

You smiled faintly at the memory. You were making people feel seen—and that meant something.

“Done for the day?” Your boss asked, pausing by your desk.

“Yeah, you need me to stay late?”

“Nope. Just wanted to say—your latest article? Stellar.”

You beamed. “Thanks.” With a wave goodbye, you packed up and headed out—ready to play plant savior.

“Damn, she is cold,” you muttered, spotting the sad-looking bonsai on Julie’s icy doorstep. You scooped Lydia up like a wounded pet and drove her straight back to your apartment.

“Shua?” you called as you stepped inside.

“Lydia!” he gasped dramatically, leaping from the couch.

You blinked. “You greeted the plant before me?”

“And?” he said, completely unapologetic.

“I rescued it for you!”

“Can I water my girl first and hug you after?” he asked sweetly.

You laughed, tossing your bag onto the sofa. “Fine.” Ten minutes later, Joshua returned from the kitchen, Lydia perched happily on the windowsill and a bottle of wine in hand.

“She’s adjusting well to her new home,” he declared, pouring you both glasses. “And hydrated.”

“How nice,” you deadpanned. “Jealous of a plant now.”

“Oh, don’t pout. I’d hydrate you too, but unlike Lydia, the last time I sprayed you with the hose, you got mad.”

You snorted. “Why the hell is her name Lydia anyway?”

“She looked like one.”

You raised a brow. “Okay, then what do I look like?”

Joshua smirked. “Horny.”

You glared. “I will drown your bonsai in wine.”

He grinned. “C’mon, your last article must’ve left you a little pent up.”

“Shut up,” you said, throwing back your drink.

By the time the wine bottle was empty, you were curled into Joshua’s side on the couch, the warmth of alcohol and his comfort loosening your guard.

“Seriously though,” you murmured. “Why’d she dump you?”

He gave a bitter chuckle. “Said I was too nice.”

You blinked slowly. “Wait? How is that an issue?”

He smiled. “You’re drunk.”

“You always do that,” you muttered, suddenly pulling away.

“Do what?”

“Assume I’m just a drunken mess.”

“Well, right now you kind of are. And... you’re really close.”

You recoiled further. “Right. Wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that,” he groaned.

You didn’t answer. You just grabbed your phone instead.

Joshua sighed. “Okay, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.”

You poured yourself another glass—your third—just in time for Wonwoo, your other housemate, to walk through the door.

You were sprawled on the couch, one leg dangling over the edge, a half-empty wine glass resting when Wonwoo walked in, looking devastatingly handsome in his work attire.

He was wearing a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his toned forearms, and a pair of perfectly tailored black trousers. His tie was slightly loosened, and his hair was slightly tousled like he’d run his fingers through it a few too many times. You couldn’t help but stare, your wine-hazed mind fixating on how effortlessly attractive he looked.

“Wow,” you murmured, not realising you’d said it out loud until Wonwoo’s eyes flickered over to you, a small, amused smile appearing on his lips.

“Did you just... wow me?” he asked, shutting the door behind him and shrugging off his coat.

You didn’t even have the decency to feel embarrassed. Instead, you just giggled and nodded, lifting your wine glass in a mock toast. “You look outstanding, Woo. Like, unfairly good.”

He arched a brow, walking into the living room and leaning against the arm of the couch, towering over you. “Have you been drinking alone?”

You waved your hand dismissively. “I started with Joshua, and then he got all snippy. But thankfully, you’re here now looking like a model from a GQ spread. Seriously, do you just walk around looking like that?”

Wonwoo chuckled, the sound low and almost too attractive for your mildly intoxicated state. “It’s called having a job, Y/N. You should try it sometime.”

You scoffed, pretending to be offended. “I have a job! I just... don’t have to wear a suit for it. Or look that good doing it.”

He gave you one of those half-smiles that made your heart thump. “You look pretty good right now. Maybe it’s just the wine talking.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, poking his arm lightly. “Are you flirting with me? Or just being nice because I’m a little tipsy?”

He glanced at your wine glass, then at you, eyes softening. “A little of both, maybe.”

That made you giggle again, and you scooted over, patting the empty spot next to you. “Sit. You’ve been working all day. You deserve to relax.”

Wonwoo hesitated, but eventually lowered himself onto the couch, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned back. You could smell his cologne now, something warm and woodsy that made your stomach do a little flip.

“So,” he said gently, “what’s with the sad eyes? It’s Friday.”

“Joshua’s pissed at me, I think.”

Wonwoo nodded. “He’s not the best with drunk people.”

You pouted. “So you think I’m drunk too.”

“I think you’re not sober,” he teased, pulling you easily into his lap.

“You’re really pretty, you know,” you mumbled.

Wonwoo glanced at you, one brow raised, clearly fighting a smile. “You’re definitely drunk.”

“Am not,” you argued, sticking your tongue out. “I’m just being honest. You don’t get to be this attractive and not know it.”

He finally gave in to a full smile, one that made your heart flutter. “You really don’t hold back when you’re tipsy, do you?”

You shrugged, taking another sip. “Life’s too short to hold back. And you’re too pretty to not be told so.”

Wonwoo shook his head, but there was a fondness in his gaze that made you feel oddly comfortable. You let the silence fall between you, not awkward, just... nice.

He glanced down at your empty glass and gently took it from your hand, setting it on the coffee table. “Maybe that’s enough for tonight.”

You pouted but didn’t argue. Instead, you leaned against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. “You’re really comfy too,” you mumbled.

He chuckled softly, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, almost as if it was second nature. “You’re a lot clingier when you’ve had a few drinks.”

You hummed in agreement, not really caring to defend yourself. “It’s because you’re nice to cling to.”

You smiled. “So you’re back home early on a Friday night, what happened, no hot date?”

“Nah, my job and its demands make it difficult to date, what about you? You wrote a very spicy article, did that not get you at least a few contenders to try out the toys in your article?”

You sighed. “ Shut up, and plus, I crave intimacy, not just a one-night stand.”

He paused. “Interesting.”

“Shh, let me sleep,” you mumbled as you curled more into his chest.

Wonwoo didn’t push you away, just let you rest against him, and you could have sworn you felt his thumb gently brush over your shoulder. Your heart beat a little faster, and you couldn’t help but smile, too comfortable to care about anything else at that moment.

As the show on TV changed to something else, Wonwoo sighed, seemingly more relaxed now that he’d settled in. “You’re lucky I don’t mind being your drunk pillow.”

You grinned, snuggling closer. “You secretly love it.”

He didn’t reply, but the soft chuckle that rumbled through his chest was answer enough.

You blinked. “Sure.”

~~ The next morning, you walked into a plant shop, hopeful that obnoxiously expensive and ornate plant would make up for the snippy exchange you and Joshua had last night. The bell above the door jingled as you approached the counter, pointing to a tiny bonsai in the window. “For a friend,” you said. “He likes plants?” The older man smiled. “He named his.” The man chuckled, gently wrapping the pot. “Plants are like people. They need the right love to thrive.” “Yeah,” you murmured. “Thanks.” ~~ You were returning back to the apartment, and you took a sudden turn–then froze.

“Oh, shit—” you yelped as the tiny bonsai smashed into someone’s face.

“FUCK,” he yelled, hands flying to his nose.

“Oh my god, I—your face—your plant! I’m so sorry!”

The man looked up, wincing. “You could have broken my nose. And you’re worried about the plant?”

“Do you live here?” You asked, noticing how he was standing outside the apartment door opposite yours, ignoring the blood.

“What?”

“I mean—can I help? Do you have ice?”

He blinked. “Yeah. Come in.”

Inside, he handed you his keys, too dazed to care.

“You’re very trusting,” you muttered, digging through his freezer.

“You already injured me. What more could you do?”

You found an ice pack and vodka, held up both. “You want comfort or numbness?”

“I’ll take both,” he mumbled, sitting down.

You pressed the pack to his nose. “What’s your name?”

“Kim Mingyu.”

“I’m Y/N.”

He cracked a pained smile. “So this is how you meet people? Assault first, names later?”

You laughed. “Only when I’m feeling flirty.”

“Cute,” he said, gently taking the ice pack from your hand.

You stared at the barely bleeding gash. “You’ll survive.”

“See this scar?” he pointed to one above his brow. “My sister gave me that. I can handle one pot-wielding girl.”

The soft hum of the city buzzed faintly through the windows as you sat on Mingyu’s couch, nervously picking at a stray thread on your sweater. Mingyu plopped down next to you, a little too close, but you didn’t mind. His shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned back, stretching his long legs out.

“So,” Mingyu said, flashing you a charming smile. “Now that I’ve lured you into my lair, I guess I should actually get to know you.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Yeah? You planning to interrogate me?”

He shrugged, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe. Gotta make sure my neighbor isn’t secretly plotting my demise. Or maybe I’m just trying to figure out why you always look like you’re on a mission when you leave the building.”

You bit back a laugh, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean when I’m rushing to meet deadlines and not running a secret spy operation?”

Mingyu grinned. “Exactly. So what’s with all the late-night typing sessions? What do you do?”

You hesitated for a moment. “I’m a writer. Lifestyle pieces mostly. A bit of everything — fashion, travel, relationships. It’s kind of like... whatever my editor thinks people are obsessed with that week.”

Mingyu raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “That sounds pretty cool. So you just... write about life?”

“Pretty much,” you said, relaxing into the couch. “Sometimes it’s advice columns, sometimes it’s think pieces. Occasionally, it’s lists of the top ten sex toys to spice up your love life.”

Mingyu choked on his drink, coughing as his cheeks flushed. “Wait... that was you?”

You frowned in confusion. “What?”

He cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed but unable to hide his smirk. “I, uh... I might have read that article. Thought the writing was... bold.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Bold, huh? Didn’t think that piece would be your go-to read.”

Mingyu grinned sheepishly. “It wasn’t exactly on my list, but it popped up. It was one of those late-night ‘am I missing out on something’ moments.”

You couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating up. “I didn’t peg you as the type to read lifestyle blogs.”

“I didn’t peg myself as one either,” he admitted. “But the writing was clever. Funny. Made it sound... approachable. I should’ve known it was you.”

You snorted. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

“Absolutely,” he said, giving you a soft, lopsided smile. “You made it sound... less intimidating.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped. “Well, I do aim to please.”

Mingyu hummed thoughtfully. “And here I thought I was the one trying to impress you.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, leaning closer. “How’s that working out for you?”

He chuckled, eyes flickering to your lips for just a moment. “Jury’s still out. But I’m definitely intrigued.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, but you tried to play it cool. “What about you? What’s your thing?”

Mingyu gestured casually to the wall behind you, where a few framed photographs hung. You turned around, realizing you hadn’t noticed them before.

“They’re yours?” You asked, genuinely surprised.

He nodded, a bit shy now. “Yeah. I’m a photographer. Mostly freelance, but I’ve done some shows and a few magazine spreads. I guess I’m always chasing light and moments... like that one.” He pointed to a picture of a bustling street at sunset, the sky bleeding shades of pink and orange over the cityscape.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, stepping closer to look. “You really captured the way the city feels alive.”

Mingyu’s lips curved into a soft smile. “That’s the goal. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

You glanced back at him, raising a brow. “So, you just wander around looking for the perfect shot?”

He nodded, leaning back comfortably. “Pretty much. Sometimes it’s places. Sometimes it’s people. Anything that feels... real.”

You felt a little flutter in your chest at his words. “That’s kind of poetic.”

Mingyu smiled, a little bashful. “Didn’t mean to get all deep on you.”

You waved him off. “No, I like it. You’ve got this... thoughtful way of looking at things.”

He gave a little shrug, eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief. “Maybe I just know how to make things sound good. Photographer skills.”

You laughed. “And here I thought writers were the ones who spun stories.”

He leaned in just a bit, his voice low and playful. “Maybe we’re not so different after all.”

You met his gaze, your heart racing. “Guess we’ll have to see.”

Mingyu smirked, his fingers lightly brushing yours where they rested on the couch. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“So...” Mingyu leaned in, cocking his head. “If it’s not weird to ask, did you test all those toys out yourself or get reviews from others?” Your eyes widened. “A bit of both.”

“Interesting.”

“I guess you and your significant other can maybe test it out, and I can get more real-time feedback,” you suggested awkwardly, not knowing how to continue the conversation.

He laughed. “Y/N, if I had a significant other, I wouldn’t be sitting here, very turned on, icing my face.”

You swallowed and laughed awkwardly.

An hour had passed, and you were still seated on Mingyu’s couch, the casual conversation flowing easily between you two. The warmth of his apartment wrapped around you, made cozier by the soft lighting that glowed from the corner lamp. Mingyu had moved closer at some point during your chat, and you couldn’t help but notice how his knee brushed against yours every now and then.

“So, let me get this straight,” Mingyu said, his smile widening as he leaned back, resting his arm along the back of the couch.

“You’ve managed to convince an entire city that they need to buy seven different types of pillows just to sleep better?”

You laughed, shrugging. “What can I say? The perfect sleep experience is an art. Plus, people like to feel a bit pampered. Who doesn’t love the idea of sinking into a mountain of plush pillows?”

“Fair point,” he conceded, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You make it sound so luxurious, I almost feel bad for my one sad, flat pillow.”

You raised a brow. “Oh, that’s unacceptable. I think I have a new mission: upgrade your pillow situation.”

Mingyu chuckled, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder as he reached for his drink on the coffee table. The simple touch sent a jolt of awareness through you, but you kept your expression calm.

“What about you?” You asked, trying to steer the focus away from how his touch made your skin tingle. “Aside from photography, what do you do when you’re not charming people with your art?”

Mingyu’s lips quirked up. “I cook. A lot. It’s therapeutic. Plus, I’m kind of a food snob.”

Your eyes lit up with intrigue. “You cook? Like, actual meals? Or are we talking ramen and scrambled eggs?”

He scoffed playfully. “Ramen? Please. I can make homemade pasta from scratch. You’d be impressed.”

“That’s a bold statement. I might have to hold you to it.”

He grinned, eyes glinting with a bit of challenge. “I’d love to prove it. But only if you promise to be an honest critic.”

You hummed, leaning in just slightly. “I’m always honest. Sometimes a little too honest.”

His eyes traced your features, lingering a little longer on your lips before darting back to your gaze. “I don’t mind honesty. It’s refreshing.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and you couldn’t help but notice how Mingyu’s hand had inched closer, resting on the back of the couch just behind your shoulder. The proximity made your pulse quicken, and you weren’t sure if it was the way his voice dropped a little lower or the way his eyes softened when he looked at you.

“So,” he said softly, voice almost a murmur, “would you ever do a part two for that sex toy article? ”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “Why, do you have any suggestions?”

Mingyu raised his hands in mock surrender, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “Maybe; would you listen to them?”

You smirked. “Maybe; I am a very open-minded person,”

His eyes flickered down to your lips, and this time, he didn’t look away. Mingyu leaned in just a fraction, testing the waters. “Oh? I think I’d like to get to know you better.”

Your breath caught at the implication, your heart thudding against your ribs. Mingyu’s hand moved from the back of the couch to gently brush your cheek, thumb tracing a light, comforting path along your jaw.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded slowly, your voice just as soft. “Yeah... It’s okay.”

He smiled, his lips curving into something almost relieved, before he closed the small distance between you. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative, careful way. When you responded, pressing closer, he deepened the kiss slightly, his other hand moving to your waist.

The world seemed to melt away, and all you could feel was the warmth of his touch, the way his lips moved with yours like he’d been waiting to do this for a long time.

When you finally pulled back, just enough to catch your breath, Mingyu rested his forehead against yours, his thumb still caressing your cheek.

“Worth the wait,” he murmured, his voice rough and sincere.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling more at ease than you had in a long time. “Definitely.”

“I guess I’m happy you almost broke my nose,” he murmured, leaning in slightly.

You let out a soft gasp when he kissed you again, making you melt against him.

“I want to hear that sound again,” he whispered, making you giggle, and you grinned, and he took it as a sign to further things.

He picked you up easily and carried you to his bedroom and onto his bed, settling you onto his lap like you belonged there. His lips never stopped moving against yours, each kiss more heated, more desperate.

When he finally pulled away, both of you were panting.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, voice lower, rougher now.

You nodded eagerly, lips parted, skin already flushed.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

A moan escaped before you could stop it.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, that smug smirk creeping back. “Ooh. Praise kink. Duly noted.”

His hands slid up your sides, under your dress, fingertips skating along your skin like he was unwrapping a gift.

“Can I?” He asked again, but this time, he was already tugging at the fabric.

“Please just do something,” you said, practically squirming in his lap, need pulsing through you like a heartbeat.

He laughed softly — a dark, delicious sound. “You’re adorable when you beg.”

Your dress slipped over your head and onto the floor in one swift motion.

“No bra?” He asked, amused.

“Didn’t feel like it matched the vibe,” you replied with a lazy shrug.

“Big fan of that choice,” he said, palming your breasts in his large hands, thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened under his touch. His mouth followed, warm and wet, kissing and sucking until you were arching into him.

Then his hand drifted lower.

“I don’t think you’ll be needing these either,” he muttered, fingers brushing over the damp heat between your legs.

You let out a soft gasp, legs parting instinctively. “Can I feel you?” He asked again, voice a low rumble against your throat.

“Please,” you breathed, nearly trembling with how badly you needed him.

He slipped your underwear down slowly, teasing you, drawing this out like he enjoyed how desperate you were.

“Been a while?” He murmured, fingers sliding between your folds, making you jolt.

“Way too long,” you confessed, barely managing to speak.

He groaned. “Fuck, I want to taste you so badly, but some beautiful disaster smashed me in the face with a plant tonight.”

“There’s always next time,” you managed to say, breath hitching as he continued to tease your entrance with maddening patience.

“Oh? There’s going to be a next time?” He asked, cocky now.

“Depends if this time’s good,” you teased back.

He grinned, eyes dark. “Oh, sweetheart... it’ll be better than good.”

He lifted you off his lap, laid you gently on the bed like you were something breakable. You watched him undress — slow, purposeful — revealing long lines of muscle and the kind of body that made your mouth water.

When his boxers hit the floor, you let out an involuntary, “Fuck.”

“You keep flattering me; I might forget we’re not in love yet,” he joked, grabbing a condom from the drawer and rolling it on.

“Mingyu,” you moaned, writhing on the sheets, “please, I just need to feel you inside me.”

He froze, eyes wide.

“Won’t it hurt if I don’t—”

“Dude,” you cut in, voice raw. “I’ve been in a dry spell so long I’m practically a desert. Just fuck me.”

He blinked. “Did you just ‘dude’ me while begging for dick?”

“Yes, and your boner better survive it,” you shot back.

He laughed — hard — but that laugh turned into a groan as he lined himself up and slowly pushed inside you.

Your body arched like a live wire had touched it.

“Fucking hell,” he gritted out. “You’re so tight.”

You gasped, fingers digging into the sheets as he bottomed out.

He started moving — slow, deep thrusts that had you babbling nonsense within seconds. One of his hands slid between you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing just the right way.

“I can’t... I’m gonna—” you whimpered, already spiraling.

“Let go. Come on, baby. I’ve got you,” he murmured.

And that was it.

You came hard, shaking, crying out as your body clenched around him. A few rough thrusts later, Mingyu groaned, burying himself deep as he spilled into the condom.

He collapsed on top of you, his face pressed to your chest, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him.

“Wow,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said, still panting.

“You’re amazing. Thank you.”

He looked over at you, one brow raised. “Are you... thanking me for sex?”

“I mean, yeah? That was better than therapy.”

He laughed, brushing a strand of hair off your face. “I still owe you one. My hands and tongue haven’t even had their turn yet.”

Your eyes widened.

“Unless this was a one-time ‘itch to scratch’ situation?” He added, voice quiet now.

You smiled, slow and wicked. “I think we can definitely make it happen again.”

He kissed your shoulder. “Just... next time, maybe don’t lead with blunt force trauma.”

You grinned. And said,“No promises.”

“I should get going,” you murmured, reluctantly sitting up and scanning the room for your scattered dignity — aka your dress and underwear.

Mingyu nodded, leaning back on his elbows as he watched you move. “Yeah. I mean... this wasn’t exactly how I imagined meeting my neighbors, but I’m not complaining.”

You grinned as he tossed your underwear to you with a lazy smirk and handed you your dress like it was some ceremonial robe.

“How do I look?” You asked, smoothing your hair and tugging the dress into place.

“Stunning,” he said, eyes dragging over you with no shame. “But also, like you just got thoroughly fucked.”

You groaned, covering your face. “Great. Just the look I was going for.”

“Hey, it’s just a few steps across the hall. Embrace the walk of pride,” he teased.

You paused, glancing at the door. “Should I help you finish unpacking? You still have boxes everywhere.” He shook his head. “Nah. Go get rid of that plant for your housemates before you break another part of me.”

You gave him a soft smile. “Oh that’s a good idea, I have a weapon in my hand.”

Mingyu reached for your wrist and pulled you into a kiss — slow, sweet, and way too tender for a one-night stand. It left you blinking when he pulled away.

“What was that for?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, brushing your hair behind your ear. “You had that look — like you were overthinking everything. Just wanted to remind you I’m not a dick.”

You bit your lip, smiling. “No... just a guy with a really nice one.”

He laughed, low and raspy, and you forced yourself to peel away before you crawled right back into bed with him.

“See you,” you said, pausing at the door for just a second longer than necessary.

You slipped out, gathered your things with whatever grace you had left, and padded barefoot across the hall to your own apartment — slightly sore, definitely smug, and still tasting him on your lips.

“Oh my God, you’re alive!” Joshua gasped, immediately pulling you into a hug. Then he squinted, nose crinkling. “Wait—why are you sweaty?”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, lounging by the counter. “Your dress is on backwards.”

You groaned, tugging at the fabric. “Okay, you nosy bitches, can I at least shower first?”

Joshua tilted his head like a puppy. “So… who’d you fuck?”

You glared at him, cheeks heating. “Our new neighbor. And for the record, I accidentally smashed a bonsai into his face first.”

Joshua blinked. “Why did you have a bonsai?”

You shrugged. “Felt bad. Thought a peace plant might help.” His expression softened. “We’re good, really. But damn. You broke his face, and he broke your back? That’s some poetic symmetry.”

You groaned again, stalking toward the bathroom. “I need a shower. Don’t go anywhere—I’ll be back with way too many details.”

Both men nodded eagerly, already settling in like a live show was coming

~~ You were halfway into post-shower bliss, freshly changed and just barely reclaiming some dignity when there was a soft knock at your bedroom door.

“Can I come in?” You heard Wonwoo’s voice ask.

You glanced up and smiled. “Yeah, come in.” You patted the empty spot on the bed beside you.

“Did I disturb you?” He asked, motioning toward your open laptop and mess of notes.

“Not really. Just I was brainstorming, earlier,”

Wonwoo settled beside you, his presence warm and familiar. “Maybe write about your latest hookup?” He teased with a slight edge in his voice.

You narrowed your eyes. “Okay, what’s with that tone?”

He shrugged. “I thought you’d want to maybe ask me instead? Weren’t we sort of flirting last night? I don’t just pull everyone onto my lap. But I guess the hot neighbour is who you prefer? What if he’d been a serial killer?”

Your lips twitched into a smile. “I literally knocked him out with a plant. Pretty sure he wasn’t in a position to hurt me.”

Wonwoo flopped back on your bed, arms spread wide. “So that’s it? He read your article, got turned on, and you jumped his bones?”

You snapped your laptop closed and sighed. “Why are you sounding so judgmental?”

He rolled his head toward you. “I was just worried, okay? What if he was a creep?”

You softened a little, scooting closer. “He’s not. He’s nice. Chill.”

Wonwoo nodded. “Okay. So... was he good?”

You laughed. “He's, um... big.”

One of Wonwoo’s eyebrows arched. “That’s not a skill, Y/N. Did he use his hands? Or, you know, go down on you?”

You gave him a pointed look. “His nose was still swollen from my plant assault. He was doing me a favor, not trying to win Olympic gold in oral.”

Wonwoo crossed his arms, unimpressed. “What, were his hands broken too?”

You huffed. “Look, I was desperate. Dry spell hell. He solved the problem. Can you stop interrogating me?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Besides, why do you care who I hook up with?”

Wonwoo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Since it’s some random guy who lives next door, and you’re acting like you’ve known him forever. You can’t just trust people like that, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “He’s not a random guy. He’s a new neighbor. It’s not like I’m inviting a complete stranger into my life.”

“He kind of is a stranger,” Wonwoo argued, stepping closer. “You don’t know what he’s like, what his deal is. You’re smarter than this. You shouldn’t just let someone into your life because they’re charming or whatever.”

You crossed your arms defensively. “Why do you even care? It’s not like it affects you.”

His jaw clenched, and his eyes softened just a little. “Because I don’t want you to get hurt. You always rush into things, thinking it’s all fun and games. Not everyone’s going to be what they seem.”

You rolled your eyes. “You sound like a dad, Woo.”

Wonwoo’s face flushed slightly, and he exhaled sharply. “I’m serious. Just... be careful. I’m just looking out for you.”

You softened a bit at his concern, realizing he was only trying to protect you. “I appreciate it, really. But I can take care of myself. I’m not a kid.”

His expression was a mix of frustration and something else — something intense that you couldn’t quite place. Before you could think about it too much, he took a step closer, his hand lifting like he was going to cup your cheek, but he hesitated, fingers hovering near your jaw.

You felt your breath hitch, your eyes flicking from his hand to his eyes. “Wonwoo...”

His gaze dipped to your lips, and for a moment, the air between you grew thick with unspoken tension. It felt like everything slowed down, and your pulse raced at the thought of him closing the distance.

But just as he seemed to make up his mind, his phone rang, cutting through the charged atmosphere like a knife. Wonwoo cursed softly, stepping back and fishing his phone from his pocket.

“Yeah?” he answered, his voice suddenly tight. He glanced at you, eyes regretful. “I... I have to take this. Work.”

You swallowed hard, nodding, trying to act unaffected. “Right. Go ahead.”

He hesitated for a beat longer before nodding and walking out of the room to take the call. You stayed rooted to the spot, heart pounding, wondering just what would have happened if that phone hadn’t interrupted.

You flopped back on the bed, groaning into your pillow. Not only were you aroused, you were annoyed. You knew if you stayed here, you'd either break out one of your new toys or spiral into another pity party.

You grabbed your laptop, shoved it in your bag, and got dressed. A café. That was the move. Coffee, background chatter, and maybe a splash of wine. Anything to reset your brain. ~~ You were halfway through your first glass when a familiar voice cut through your concentration.

“This seat taken?”

You looked up. Mingyu. Those eyes.

“Uh... no,” you said, blinking. “I mean—yeah, sit. Please.”

He chuckled. “You can say no if it’s weird. I won’t cry. Promise.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine. Have a seat.”

He settled in beside you, pulling out his own laptop like it was the most casual thing in the world. You tried to focus. You really did. “Y/N?” He asked suddenly. “Hm?” “Do you hate your laptop?” You blinked. “No? Why?” He sipped his drink and gestured to your keyboard. “Because it sounds like you’re trying to kill it.” You stared at your fingers. “Seriously?” “I mean, you’re not typing—you’re committing keyboard homicide.” You sighed. “I’m just wound up.” “Want to talk about it?” You glanced at him, then nodded. “My housemate got nosy about us. Asked a bunch of judgmental questions. Then offered to do what you didn’t do, and right when he’s about to kiss me... boom. Call. He leaves. I’m left... frustrated.” Mingyu tilted his head. “What I didn’t do?” You swallowed. “Like... go down on me. Use your hands.” Mingyu leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “Ah. That.” “My nose was a mess that night,” he explained. “And if I’m going down on someone, I want to enjoy it. I don’t want to half-ass it through a sinus headache.” You nodded slowly. “It wasn’t a complaint. It just—he made it sound like you were reluctant.” “Well, he doesn’t know me; I am never reluctant. Just injured with a bonsai.” “Well then, let me get this straight.” You leaned back with a smirk. “You’re annoyed because you were offered ‘better’ sex, didn’t get it, and now you’re taking it out on your poor laptop?” Mingyu blinked at you, and then you gave a slow nod. “More or less.” You grinned, and he took a step closer. “Lucky for you, I don’t tend to get phone calls mid-orgasm. Want me to help… ease that frustration?” Your breath caught. “I’m still writing.” “How many words?” You pouted. “Five. Just the title.” “Exactly.” He flashed a grin. “You’re wound up. Let me help.” “Give me like 1 hour more. I’m sure I can write,” you insisted, making Mingyu grin as he leaned back on the chair and played on his phone, with a knowing smirk, almost as if he knew you would not be able to get any work done now, considering how tightly wound up you were.

~~ “You’re not writing anything, are you?” Mingyu tilted his head at your laptop screen, clearly unimpressed. “I’m trying,” you muttered, snapping the laptop shut. “But it’s like my brain’s been replaced with mashed potatoes.” “Then come with me.” “To where?” “We’re going pub crawling. It’ll help you unwind.” You blinked. “It’s three in the afternoon.” He shrugged. “Perfect time to study the science of types. Dating, attraction, weird flirting tactics—there’s no better place than a pub.” “So this is pure science?” “Exactly,” he said. You groaned but grabbed your bag anyway. “Fine. But if we get sloppy drunk, I’m blaming you.” Mingyu grinned and offered you his hand. “Deal.”

~~ “Okay, she’s definitely into him,” Mingyu whispered over the rim of his pint, leaning toward you at the crowded corner booth. You peeked over at the couple across the bar. “How can you tell?” “She’s playing with her straw. That’s peak first-flirt body language. But watch—he’s not making eye contact.” “He’s staring at her chest,” you confirmed, rolling your eyes. “Typical.” Mingyu chuckled. “He’s either nervous or an idiot.” “Or both.” You sipped your wine and leaned back against the leather seat, your shoulder brushing his. Neither of you moved away. The buzz in your veins wasn’t just from the alcohol—it was from him. “You’re good at this people-watching thing,” you said. “Like, weirdly good.” “I’m a photographer. I notice things.” “You should’ve warned me you were charming.”

“I did,” he said, nudging your thigh under the table. “You just didn’t believe me.” You fought a smile and looked away. “What else do you notice?” “Right now?” He murmured, his voice low and smooth. “You’re tipsy. And you’re wondering what happens next.” You turned to him slowly. “What does happen next?” Mingyu grinned. “We go back to mine. Pizza, movie... whatever else comes naturally.” You raised a brow. “Smooth.” “Just honest.” And somehow, you found yourself in a cab minutes later, curled up against his side, letting yourself lean in just a little too close. The city lights passed in blurs, and you weren’t sure if it was the wine or Mingyu’s hand on your thigh making you feel weightless. “Are you always this cuddly when you drink?” Mingyu's voice was soft against your ear as he helped you out of the cab. His hand stayed on your lower back, steady and warm as you made your way up the building steps. “I’m not drunk,” you mumbled, swaying just slightly. “You’re not not drunk,” he teased, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. “Shut up,” you said, but you were already laughing. “And for the record, I’m always this cuddly. Alcohol just makes me more velcro-like.” Mingyu smiled as he unlocked the door to his apartment, ushering you inside. “Welcome to my humble, semi-furnished, testosterone-fueled abode.” “I thought you said your roommates moved in?” “They did. You’ll meet them—eventually.” He kicked off his shoes and walked ahead of you toward the kitchen. You hovered awkwardly in the living room, suddenly very aware of how intimate this was. Mingyu in his home. You in his space. “Water?” He called from the kitchen. “Please.” You accepted the glass he handed you, your fingers brushing his. The contact sent a small spark down your spine. “So...” he said, settling onto the couch and patting the cushion next to him. “Wanna tell me how many words you wrote today?” You narrowed your eyes at him as you sat down. “Why are you like this?” “Charming? Helpful? Irresistible?” “Insufferable,” you corrected, even though a smile tugged at your lips. “Still better than mashed potatoes for brains.” “Low blow.” He nudged you again, and you nearly spilled your water from how close you were suddenly sitting. His thigh pressed into yours—and that’s when it hit you. His thigh. Solid. Warm.

Unmoving. And then he flexed it. You choked slightly. Mingyu looked amused. “What?”

“Stop doing that,” you hissed. “Doing what?”

“That thing with your leg.”

“Oh?” He leaned in, grinning. “You mean this?”

He flexed again, and you tried not to squirm.

“You’re evil,” you muttered.

“You’re the one sitting on my thigh.”

Your mouth opened. Closed. “I’m not sitting—” “You are,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “And I think you like it.”

You swallowed hard, heat curling low in your stomach. “Shut up.”

“I could make you feel better, you know.”

You turned toward him slowly. “I didn’t say I was feeling bad.”

“Then let me make you feel even better.”

His hand moved gently to your hip.

“You sure?” he asked, gaze sincere, voice quieter now.

You nodded, breath catching.

Mingyu smiled, pulled you fully into his lap—and the rest of your thoughts disappeared.

“Besides, I want to taste you,” Mingyu murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “Say something?” You nodded, breath catching. “Yes.”

Mingyu smirked. “Good girl.”

You whimpered. “Oh no, praise kink. Dangerous game.” He grinned at you, full of teasing and promise, and led you back to his bedroom. You followed without question.

“Hey, nice,” you said, looking around his space. “You got the place set up.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu said, casually kicking off his shoes. “I had help from someone, but we ended up fucking, so—she wasn’t that helpful.”

You shot him a glare. “Charming.”

“Sit.”

You did. He peeled off his hoodie in one fluid motion, revealing his bare chest.

“You just walk around looking like that?”

“Problem?”

“None,” you said, blinking hard. “Just—wow.”

“Tell me what you like. Move my head, stop me if it’s too much, too fast—just say the word.”

You nodded as he leaned in and kissed you, slow and teasing. You pulled back.

“Wait.”

Mingyu raised a brow, but you stood and started undressing.

“Stop,” he said. “Let me.”

You sat back, breath uneven. He knelt in front of you, his fingers working the clasp of your bra. The straps fell like they were made to. He tossed the fabric aside before wrapping his lips around your nipple, warm tongue flicking against the sensitive skin. His other hand massaged your other breast in perfect sync. You whimpered as he switched sides, giving both equal attention, his lips dragging heat from your skin.

“Oh, I love those sounds,” he murmured against your chest, lips brushing your sternum.

He hooked his fingers into your panties and slid them down, tossing them somewhere across the room.

“If I can’t find those later, I’m blaming you. They were one of my favorites.”

“You’ll survive,” he said, just before he kissed your clit.

Your hips bucked.

“Right there?”

You nodded, breathless.

He smirked against you, arms wrapping around your thighs to hold you still. You weren’t going anywhere—not when he was just getting started.

He traced slow, deliberate circles over your clit with his tongue. Unwavering. Steady.

“You’re good at this,” you moaned.

“Also... was that my name in cursive on your clit?” You asked breathlessly.

“Maybe.”

Mingyu didn’t let up—his tongue kept working you through every shaky gasp. You came hard, trembling in his grip. He didn’t stop. Not even when you cried out, not even when you begged. He sucked on your clit like it was oxygen. You came again, legs twitching, hand buried in his hair.

When he finally pulled back, you were wrecked—back slouched into the cushions, breathing heavy.

“So?”

“Amazing,” you whispered, blinking up at the ceiling.

You turned toward him, your fingers drifting to the button of his jeans. “You don’t have to,” he said.

“I know,” you replied. “I want to.”

He helped you slide them down, then hissed as you palmed his cock through his boxers.

“Don’t tease me,” he said, voice ragged. “Noted.”

You pulled him free and tried not to moan at the sight. He was thick, flushed, and already leaking. You licked his tip and smiled when his hips jerked forward.

“Fuck,” he muttered as you took him deeper. What you couldn’t fit, you made up for with your hand.

When you started massaging his balls, he gasped. “Shit. Shit. Baby, I’m gonna—”

You didn’t stop.

He groaned loudly, head falling back, fingers gripping the sofa as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed every drop, letting your tongue tease his tip one last time.

Mingyu collapsed back into the cushions, chest heaving. “That was... wow.”

You smiled, cheeks flushed and body warm, still glowing from the attention he’d given you minutes ago. He looked at you, all awe and affection. “You know,” he said, voice still breathless, “I should’ve invited you over way sooner.”

You were laughing, but the second you finished laughing, suddenly the afterglow of your orgasm had dimmed, and you were painfully aware of how naked you were.

“Hey… you okay?” Mingyu’s voice was quiet, and your eyes flicked to him as you instinctively grabbed the nearest pillow and hugged it to your bare chest. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, hoping your shyness wasn’t obvious. “Oh.” Mingyu stood, then paused. “Wait.” He turned the lights off, casting the room in soft shadows. “I can’t see much now, but I’ll just—”

He handed you his shirt blindly. “Here. You can use this.” “Thanks,” you murmured, slipping it on fast and clinging to the extra bit of coverage. The lights flicked back on, and Mingyu gave you a reassuring smile. “You can relax. I wasn’t trying to get you out of it again.” You gave a breathy laugh, still a little too self-conscious to meet his gaze.

“It was fun,” he added casually. “I mean... not that I’m saying we should do it again. Unless you want to. But not because I expect—shit, this is coming out wrong.”

You tilted your head at him. “You think?” “I’m just saying, I wasn’t expecting anything,” he backtracked. “You’re beautiful. And I’m not... trying to mess with your head or anything.” “Thanks for the orgasms,” you said dryly, tugging your jeans on. Mingyu flinched, clearly caught off guard. “Okay. That’s fair. I deserved that.” You bent down to grab your shirt and looked up at him with a narrowed stare. “Right. Because you’re so emotionally competent.” “I never claimed to be,” he said, his voice tight now. “Look, we barely know each other. It was just sex. You don’t have to get all weird about it.” You stood up, heart thudding now—not from embarrassment, but from frustration. “I’m not weird about it. But you are clearly trying to backpedal hard enough to twist your ankle.” “Okay, fine,” he snapped, raising his hands. “I’ll go. I’m sorry for bothering you.” He rolled his eyes as he walked out. You didn’t stop him. Not when you were that close to tearing up. You didn’t know why it suddenly affected you; you knew you had some slight issues with confidence and doubted yourself quite a bit; you just didn’t expect to get like that during a casual hook-up. ~~ You slammed the door behind him, then stormed into your own apartment. “Y/N?” Joshua looked up from the couch. “Not now,” you muttered, brushing past him and heading straight for your bedroom. You could still hear Mingyu’s voice echoing in your head. “It was just sex.” Fucking idiot. You paced for a moment before throwing yourself down on the bed. The knock at your door came less than five minutes later. You cracked it open to see Mingyu standing sheepishly, holding a paper bag. “I had to think of an excuse,” he said, offering it. “Your bra’s in here.” You sighed and took the bag from him. “You came back for my bra?” “I didn’t want to leave things like that, Bambi eyes let me in, I didn’t catch his name,” he admitted. “That’s Joshua; he let you in.” Mingyu glanced around. “Can I sit?” You pointed to the bed, and he eased down onto the edge. “Why did you come back?” “I’m shit at this. At saying things right. I always talk like an idiot when I’m... nervous.” You blinked. “You’re nervous?” Mingyu shrugged. “You make me nervous.” For a second, you just stared at him. Then, you said, “Stay.” He looked up. “What?” You crossed your arms. “Stay. Talk. Don’t leave again acting like we both didn’t enjoy that and like we don’t enjoy spending time with each other.” He exhaled a long breath, then nodded. “For what it’s worth,” Mingyu said, voice suddenly softer, “you have nothing to be shy about.”

You held his gaze for a beat, then gave a small smile. “Look, we started this all in the wrong order. You wanted to be friends…”

“Friends,” Mingyu repeated, eyes flicking around the room before landing on a small red object.

“Is that what I think it is?”

You groaned. “Oh my god, can you not—”

“A vibrator?” he grinned, walking over to grab it. “In plain sight?”

“Give it back.”

“Or…” he smirked, turning it over in his hand. “I could show you how sorry I am?”

Your mouth went dry. “What happened to ‘just friends’?”

“We can start that tomorrow.”

That was all the warning you got before he was on you, kissing you like he meant it. You tugged him closer by his shirt, falling back onto the bed as he slipped his hand down and popped the button of your jeans. You kicked them off along with your panties. His knuckles grazed your slick folds.

“You’re still soaked,” he said against your lips, eyes flicking down your body like you were art.

He pulled your shirt over your head.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

You smiled softly as he began kissing his way down, slow and reverent.

He turned the vibrator on and dragged it gently along your folds. “Shit,” you hissed, hips jerking as the cold metal touched your clit.

Without warning, he pushed two fingers inside you, curling just right as the vibrator buzzed against your swollen clit. The sensation was overwhelming—fast and dizzying, his fingers moving steadily, the toy pressed right where it needed to be.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, digging your nails into the sheets.

“Good girl,” Mingyu whispered. “You take my fingers so well.”

Your body trembled, your thighs starting to shake as the pleasure built.

You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut. “Please don’t stop.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Mingyu smirked, kissing the inside of your thigh as you fell apart on his hand.

He pulled his fingers out and raised them to his lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied hum.

“So… friends?”

You were still panting. “Yeah. Friends.” “Uh-huh.” He grinned. “Need help with that?” He nodded toward the very visible bulge in his pants.

You sat up slowly. “No thanks. That’s not what friends are for.”

“I’m saying no,” he said dramatically, “but it’s not my cock’s decision. He says yes.”

You giggled, giving his thigh a light slap.

Mingyu leaned in and kissed your forehead. “See you later, friend.”

You nodded, still dazed.

“Oh—by the way,” he added as he reached the door, “my housemates get back this weekend. We’re throwing a party. Chill night, drinks, people meeting people. Bring your housemates if you’re free?” You smiled, still trying to catch your breath.

“See you around, Gyu.”

He winked and closed the door behind him. ~~ Later that evening, you emerged from your bedroom to find Joshua smirking at you over a mug of tea. “What?” You asked, suspicious. He raised his eyebrows. “You moan loudly.” Your jaw dropped. “I was trying to keep it down!” “Yeah, no. Wonwoo thought you were a wounded animal at first.” You gasped, mortified. “I don’t moan that loudly.” Joshua gave you a pitying look. “You don’t think you do, but when you suppress it, it comes out like a dying banshee.” You groaned and dropped your head onto the counter. “Wait, did... Wonwoo hear?” Joshua nodded slowly, sipping his tea. “He might have been concerned for your well-being.” You rolled your eyes. “Great. Just great.” “So,” he said, voice light, “you and hot plant guy...?” “Friends,” you interrupted quickly. “We decided to just be friends.” Joshua arched a brow. “After that performance?” “It’s complicated. We don’t know each other well enough not to accidentally hurt each other.” Joshua tilted his head. “Wise.”

You sighed, pulling out your phone. “Still, I need to talk to Wonwoo.” “To apologise? You know you don’t owe him one; you do whatever you want and whoever you want.” “I don’t owe him an apology, but I could at least apologise for the noise,” you said. “But... yeah. Kinda feels like the decent thing to do.” You hovered outside Wonwoo’s door before knocking gently and peeking in. “Wonwoo?” He looked up from his book. “Yeah?” You gulped. He was in grey sweats and a white shirt, lounging like some kind of soft-focus fantasy. “You’re drooling,” he said with a smirk. You groaned and walked inside, flopping onto the bed beside him. “I came to say sorry.” He shut the book, raising an eyebrow. “For what? Your gorgeous moaning? If anything, I should apologize for interrupting it with my concern.” You hid your face behind your hands. “You’re unbearable.” “Relax. You don’t owe me an apology. We’re not dating.” ��Still. It wasn’t to get back at you or anything. I was just... left very frustrated.” Wonwoo chuckled. “That was entirely my fault. Work called.” You tilted your head, your eyes softening. “Mingyu and I agreed to just be friends. No feelings. No strings. Which... honestly? Sounds like the safest plan.” He looked at you for a beat. “And what about me?” “I know you,” you said softly. “You wouldn’t hurt me.” Wonwoo didn’t respond. He just reached forward, tugging you until you were curled up against his chest.

“You left me horny,” you whispered, teasing. “I know. I’m sorry. You deserved better.” There was a long pause before he added, “So… you two are done?” You nodded. “Yeah.” “Then,” he said, his hand brushing lightly at the strap of your top, “What if I just, you know, carry on from what happened earlier? I did get rudely interrupted with a phone call, and I believe I owe you a kiss.” You laughed. “Oh, yes you do.” Wonwoo smirked. “Only if he can see how gorgeous you look right now.” You leaned in, your lips close to his. “Can you do something?” “Patience is a virtue,” he whispered. “It’s not one of mine.” He grinned. “Very true.” And then his lips were on yours—soft, slow, deliberate. When he finally pulled away, you were breathless. “I’ve got an article to finish,” you said reluctantly. “We’re good?” He asked. “We’re good.” You smiled, standing up. He smiled at you lazily, and you practically skipped back to your room.

~~ The next afternoon, you were in your local cafe, still stuck with the same five words you typed out yesterday on your laptop. However, you were laser-focused and attempting to write a new sentence about emotional risk versus reward when a voice interrupted you. “What is a ‘type,’ and why do we stick to it?” You nearly jumped out of your skin. “Mingyu! A warning would be nice!” He grinned as he slid into the seat across from you at the café table. “But you’re so jumpy—it’s adorable.” “Oh, please. Just sit, why don’t you.”

“I intend to,” he said, already making himself at home.

“So what brings you here? Stalking me?”

“I could ask you the same. Who sits in my usual spot with a laptop and sulks?”

“Writer’s block,” you admitted, closing your screen.

“Want to fix that?”

You narrowed your eyes. “How?”

Mingyu grinned. “We grab a drink and talk about our dumbest hook-ups.” ~~ The bar was buzzing with low chatter and clinking glasses as you and Mingyu sat across from each other in a cosy booth, the soft amber glow from the hanging lights making his eyes look even warmer. You were on your third cocktail of the afternoon, feeling just the right amount of tipsy to start leaning into the silly side of the conversation.

Mingyu was nursing a beer, his cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol, or maybe it was just the comfortable atmosphere. You twirled your straw around in your glass before looking up at him with a playful grin.

“So, since we’re already a few drinks in,” you began, leaning forward conspiratorially, “I propose we play a game.”

Mingyu arched a brow, his lips twitching into a smile. “What kind of game?”

You took a sip of your drink before answering. “We trade stories. Dumb hookups, silly dates – basically all the weird romantic escapades that made us question humanity.”

Mingyu chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. “Alright, I’m game. But only if you go first.”

You mock-pouted. “Why me first?”

“Because you suggested it, and I’m curious,” he shot back, smirking.

Rolling your eyes, you thought back to your dating history, settling on one that still made you cringe. “Fine. So, there was this one guy I met on a dating app – let’s call him Jay. We went to this fancy rooftop bar, and I’m thinking, ‘Okay, this could be good.’ About thirty minutes in, he starts telling me about his extensive Funko Pop collection. Like, I mean... hundreds. And he insisted on showing me every single one through a photo album on his phone. At one point, he even teared up while talking about a limited edition Batman figure.”

Mingyu snorted into his beer, trying not to choke from laughing. “No way.”

“Yes way! And it got worse. At the end of the night, he asked me if I wanted to ‘meet them’ at his apartment. Like, not him – them.” You groaned, shaking your head at the memory. “I made some excuse about needing to water my plants and just bolted.”

Mingyu was practically wheezing at that point, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “You dated a Funko Pop guy. I’m never letting you live this down.”

You pointed at him. “Your turn, Mr. Judgy.”

He composed himself, taking a deep breath. “Alright. I went out with this girl from college once. Really pretty, seemed really cool. We went to a casual pizza place, and everything was great... until the food arrived. She took one bite, looked at me dead in the eyes, and said, ‘I think I might be a vampire.’”

You blinked, waiting for him to laugh, but he just stared at you, completely serious.

“Wait, what?” You finally said.

“Yeah,” Mingyu continued, leaning back against the booth. “She told me that eating anything but red meat made her feel sick, and she’s been craving ‘blood’ lately. She asked me if I’d ever wanted to bite someone, just to know what it tasted like.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter, practically folding over in the booth. “You’re lying.”

“I swear!” Mingyu said, holding up his hands defensively. “She kept making weird comments about how pale I was and how ‘good my veins looked.’ I never got out of a restaurant faster in my life.”

You wiped at your eyes, still giggling. “Okay, you win. That’s worse than the Funko Pop guy.”

Mingyu grinned, obviously pleased. “Yeah, I still get chills thinking about it.”

You leaned back, feeling a little more relaxed now that the conversation had taken a lighthearted turn. The music in the bar changed to something more upbeat, and you tapped your fingers against your glass.

“So, what about the serious ones?” Mingyu asked, his tone shifting slightly.

You paused, your smile faltering just a little. “You mean serious relationships?”

He nodded. “Yeah. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. Just... curious.”

You took a deep breath. “I was with someone for about a year and a half. Thought it was going somewhere real, you know? Turns out he was cheating on me for months. Found out through his phone – he was so careless; he didn’t even bother deleting the texts.”

Mingyu’s playful expression faded, his brows knitting together in concern. “That’s awful. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, forcing a small smile. “It sucked at the time. Felt like my whole self-worth got thrown out the window. But I learned from it. Learned how to be a little more careful with my heart.”

He reached across the table, placing his hand over yours. The warmth of his touch grounded you, and you glanced up to see him giving you a small, reassuring smile.

“You didn’t deserve that. No one does,” he said softly.

You squeezed his hand back. “Thanks. I guess I’m still trying to figure out how to trust people again.”

Mingyu hesitated for a moment before speaking, “I guess I’ll have to be very careful then.”

You met his eyes, suddenly feeling a little exposed but in a good way, and giving him a soft smile not sure how to answer him.

You took a second and then spoke. “And you? Any serious relationships?”

Mingyu hesitated, looking thoughtful. “There was one. A few years ago. We were together for almost two years, but we just... drifted apart. I guess I realized we were more comfortable than in love. It hurt, but it made me realize I don’t want to settle for just comfort. I want something real.”

You felt your heart soften at his honesty. “Yeah. I get that.”

The conversation hung between you, both of you wrapped in the honesty of the moment. The vulnerability, the ease of being real with each other – it made your stomach flip in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Mingyu took a sip of his beer, his hand still holding yours, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this could be the kind of real you both wanted. ~~ By the time you both left the bar, you were walking arm-in-arm. Your heels clicked against the pavement, your head light with wine and conversation. “Okay, I’ll admit,” you said, “this was fun.” “More than writing five words and calling it an article title?” You smacked his arm. “Rude but true.” “Come on,” he said, flagging down a cab. “My place. Pizza and Finding Nemo?” “Nemo?” “It’s a classic.” “Big baby.” “Don’t hate on soft men,” he said as the cab pulled up. “We cry, but we cuddle like champs.” You laughed all the way into the taxi. ~~ “Here you go,” Mingyu said, handing you a soft black shirt.

“Thanks.” You stood up to change without thinking, but froze mid-movement when you realized he was still watching you.

“Whoa—wow maybe warn a guy, I almost got blinded by your beauty?” His eyes were wide.

You paused, suddenly self-conscious. “Sorry, I just figured… I mean, you’ve seen everything before.”

“I’m not complaining,” he said, stepping toward you. “It’s a fantastic view.”

You smiled sheepishly as you peeled off your shirt. Mingyu took it gently from your hands and set it on the bed, his gaze still lingering but soft. When you moved to take off your jeans, he helped again—quiet, respectful, but definitely appreciating every second.

“Need another shirt?” He asked, catching your hesitation.

“No, I just… I’m wearing a very uncomfy bra.” “Then don’t,” he replied simply. You raised a brow at him. “Want to help me get it off?” His grin widened. “Weren’t we just trying this whole ‘friends’ thing?”

“Yeah,” you said, stepping closer, “and friends help each other.”

He didn’t need further convincing. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you into him. “That they do,” he murmured against your skin. His fingers moved up your back, undoing your bra clasp with practiced ease. The straps slipped from your shoulders like silk.

“Do you want me to fold this nicely with the rest of your clothes?” He teased, voice low and amused.

“Don’t push it,” you smirked.

“You’re cold,” he said, fingers grazing over your hardened nipples.

“Am not,” you muttered.

“Then are you turned on?”

You raised a brow. “And if I say no?”

“I’d find out anyway,” he murmured. “One finger, and I could prove it.”

You didn’t respond, just held his gaze.

Mingyu took that as permission. His hand slipped down your stomach, easing into your panties until a long finger slid inside you.

“You’re soaked,” he whispered.

You gasped as his finger curled just right. “Do you want to cum?”

You nodded quickly, eyes fluttering shut as his thumb found your clit.

He pulled his finger out with a sinful smirk. “Good. Then get on the bed.”

You climbed back onto his bed, legs slightly shaky. Mingyu knelt between your thighs and dragged your panties down in one smooth motion. His hands pressed your thighs open as he lowered his mouth to your core.

“Fuck,” you gasped when his tongue flicked your clit.

“Mingyu, wait—”

He immediately looked up, concern flashing in his eyes. “Too much?”

You shook your head, already lifting your leg to press against the hard line of his bulge. “No. I just—need you.”

His pupils darkened instantly. “You sure?”

You nodded. “Please fuck me.”

He made quick work of his belt and shirt, tossing them aside. “If I don’t eat you out, Wonwoo’s going to call me a selfish asshole.”

You groaned, laughing breathlessly. “Screw that. Just get in me.”

Mingyu climbed onto the bed, lined himself up with your entrance, and paused.

“Wait—condoms?”

“I have an implant.”

His eyes flicked to yours. “You sure?”

You nodded. “Mingyu. Please.”

“At least you said please,” he grinned, and then he pushed into you with a low groan.

You clung to his back, nails digging in slightly as he started thrusting. His rhythm was perfect—controlled, deep, toe-curling.

His fingers found your clit mid-thrust, rubbing in time with each snap of his hips. You clenched around him, moaning as your orgasm washed over you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, lowering himself to kiss you, forehead to forehead. “Can I—”

“Yes,” you breathed.

He groaned as he came, hips stuttering as he spilled into you. Your head lolled back, your entire body melting into the mattress.

“Amazing?” He asked softly.

“Stupid amazing,” you replied, still catching your breath.

“Get your pizza first! Your dick won’t fall off!”

You both froze at the shout. You blinked. “Who’s that?”

“One of my housemates, Seungcheol” Mingyu sighed. He quickly threw on his boxers and padded toward the door.

“Want to say hi?” “I’m naked.”

Mingyu grinned. “Well I’m half naked, just listen for the dramatics.”

You heard Seungcheol immediately yell, “Just boxers? Really? Why are you always half naked?”

You snorted, deciding to hop in the shower. After a quick rinse, you pulled on Mingyu’s shirt—it hung on you like a dress—and checked yourself in the mirror. Good enough.

You couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m going to grab some water, is that okay?” You asked Mingyu when he came back to his bedroom.

“Of course!” ~~ “Hi,” said a friendly voice as you padded into the hallway in Mingyu’s shirt.

You froze. A new stranger stood leaning against the kitchen counter, smiling at you. “You must be Y/N.”

You blinked. “I—uh. Hi.”

“I’m Seokmin,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m one of three housemates here.”

You shook it, already feeling incredibly flustered. “Mingyu,” he called down the hallway, “have you heard of a shirt?” You groaned. Mingyu appeared behind you, still shirtless, holding two slices of pizza. “I have, but I’m sweaty.” “Fine, fine,” Seokmin waved him off. “Take care, kids. Use protection!” You turned around and buried your face in Mingyu’s chest. “Sorry about him,” he muttered.

“It’s fine,” you said, muffled. Back in his room, you both settled in with greasy pizza and fresh sheets. “I hope you don’t mind that I showered,” you said. “You smell like me,” he replied with a smirk. “I’m keeping the shirt.” “Figured.” A pause. “You’re beautiful,” he said, quieter this time. You looked over at him. “I mean it,” he added. “Not in a creepy way. Just... in case no one’s told you recently.” Your stomach fluttered. You smiled, leaning into his shoulder as the movie started to play. ~~ Sometime between the second pizza slice and the end credits of Nemo, you found yourself stretched out beside Mingyu, your body limp, skin still tingling from his touch. He propped himself up on one elbow, brushing damp hair from your cheek. “We okay?” You blinked up at him, surprised by the question. “Yeah. Why?” He sighed. “Just... you’re hard to read sometimes.” “You mean emotionally?” He nodded. “I’ve been told,” you said softly. “Hey, its not a bad thing, just means I got to work harder.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead, his action making you swoon. “Hey,” he said a moment later. “I meant it. About you being my type.” You scoffed. “You don’t even know me.” “I know enough to want to keep knowing you.” You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. He grinned, pulling you closer. “Movie round two? Or round two in a very different sense?” You smacked his chest, laughing. “Movie first.” But even as you said it, your fingers were already trailing lower.~~ When you woke up the next morning, Mingyu was already in the kitchen, humming along to a playlist and flipping pancakes. You walked in wearing nothing but his shirt. He looked up, spatula still in hand. “Hi, gorgeous.” You smiled sleepily. “Hi.” He pointed toward the coffee he’d already made. “Caffeine. And carbs.” You padded over and tiptoed to reach up and kiss his cheek. “Are you trying to spoil me?” “Nope,” he said, flipping another pancake. “Just bribing you to stay longer.” You took a sip of the coffee. “Bribery’s working.” He grinned. ~~ “New shirt?” Wonwoo’s voice made you jump as you stepped into the living room.

You turned slowly, adjusting the hem of your oversized shirt. “Yes?” He raised a brow. “Is it clean?” “It’s Mingyu’s.”

“Ah,” Wonwoo said, voice flat.

You squirmed a little under his stare.

“Didn’t realise you two were still...” he trailed off, but the tone said enough.

You sighed. “We’re not anything. Just... two adults with no self-control and shared pizza.”

He let out a breath, his arms crossed. “Right.” “You’re mad.” “I’m not.” “You are.” Wonwoo didn’t answer.

“Fine,” you said, heading toward the kitchen. “Be grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy,” he said, following. “I just, whatever.”

“Wonwoo, don’t be like that.”

“I’m just saying, kissing me, and then sleeping with Mingyu, won’t that give both of us mixed signals?” You blinked. “Maybe, but he doesn’t know.” Silence. Wonwoo sighed. “Well, that can’t end well.”

You dropped your arms to your sides. “This is exhausting, I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Then, don’t play both sides. Look, even if it’s early on, you and Mingyu have bonded quickly, and maybe it’s not such a bad thing. Besides, you want intimacy, and I’m not in a space in my life where I can give you exactly what you need to give you that.” The words hit like a slap, and your mouth opened, then shut. You turned away before he could see how much it stung.

~~ Later that evening, you sat on the rooftop of your apartment building, wrapped in Mingyu’s hoodie, a wine bottle tucked between your knees. The city sparkled in the distance, alive and unaware. “You okay?” Mingyu asked softly, stepping onto the rooftop. You nodded without turning around. “I’m great. Just airing out my emotional baggage.” He sat beside you, letting his thigh brush yours. “Want to talk about it?” “Nope.” “Want me to distract you?” You turned to face him. “You think distraction fixes everything?” “No,” Mingyu replied, smiling faintly. “But I’m really good at it.” You laughed. It was small, but it cracked through the ache in your chest. “I just got into an argument with Wonwoo,” you said quietly. “Why?” You sighed and began to speak. “I guess just an overprotective roommate,” you said, not wanting to tell Mingyu everything just yet. Mingyu tilted his head, studying you. “Oh, maybe he’s just looking out for you but going about it in the wrong way.” Your chest tightened. “Yeah, I guess so.” “How’s this, anytime you feel blue, you can come over to mine, and talk? I can promise pancakes and zero judgment.” You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” Mingyu rested his chin on your hair. “Anytime.” ~~ A week passed. You wrote your article. He read three books. You shared meals, shared beds, shared soft smiles across busy rooms. But something was shifting. It wasn’t just about sex anymore; you two spent more time together, talked about more personal things, shared funny anecdotes, and sometimes you both would just cuddle, even if there was no sex. And that terrified you. ~~ “Y/N,” Wonwoo said one evening as you passed each other in the kitchen. “Can we talk?” You froze. “Now?” He nodded. “If you’re not too busy with Mingyu.” The words were laced with something—resentment? Pain? You leaned against the counter. “Uh..no I’m not. Look, I don’t want to keep fighting you on this. Besides, like you said, you can’t give me what I need, and all we did was just flirt and kiss once.” “I know, and believe me, I’m not mad at how we behaved with one another, but I’m worried. What if he hurts you?” “He won’t. I’ve been spending more time with him, and he’s just the sweetest.” Wonwoo met your eyes. “He better be. ” You swallowed. “He is.” A beat of silence. “Do you like him?” He asked. You blinked. “What? Of course I do, he’s such a sweet guy.” “No. Do you like him? In the sense that, do you have feelings for him?” You hesitated too long. “That’s what I thought,” he said quietly, walking away. You didn’t sleep that night. You kept thinking about the way Mingyu looked when he was reading in bed, or how he always remembered to bring you a drink without asking. The way he listened. The way he kissed you was like he was trying to memorise your soul. And the worst part? You were starting to fall for him. And that scared the life out of you. ~~ “You look like shit.” Joshua didn’t even glance up from his cereal when he said it. “Good morning to you, too,” you mumbled, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. He raised an eyebrow. “Rough night?” You poured coffee and took a long sip before answering. “Didn’t sleep much.” “Because of Mingyu? Or because of Wonwoo?” You froze, mug halfway to your lips. Joshua looked up now, spoon suspended midair. “You think I don’t notice things? Come on, Y/N. You’re not subtle.” You sighed. “It’s complicated.” He scoffed. “Love triangles usually are.” “It’s not a triangle.” “Sure. Just a very... emotionally charged V.” “Wonwoo and I spoke, and we cleared the air, okay?” You added, already tired from the conversation. Joshua grinned. “I know, I was eavesdropping when you guys were chatting.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Of course.”

“So what will you do about your very real feelings for Mingyu?” ~~ “Hey.” Mingyu’s voice was soft when he called you later that afternoon. “You okay?” You hesitated. “Yeah. Just tired.” There was silence on the other end, but you could hear the way he breathed—measured and patient, waiting for you to say more. “I had a weird talk with Wonwoo,” you said finally. “What kind of weird?” “He asked me if I liked you.” A pause. “What did you say?” “I didn’t.” Another pause. “Do you?” “I... don’t know.” You heard Mingyu let out a slow breath. “Okay.” “That’s all you’re going to say?” “I’m not going to force you into anything.” You swallowed. “But what if this—whatever this is—ruins things? Between all of us.” “Then let it,” he said quietly. “If we’re all pretending to be fine, nobody actually is.”

~~ Later that week, Seokmin knocked gently on your apartment door. “Hey, sorry, uh... weird question. Have you seen Mingyu?” You blinked. “No? Not today.” He nodded slowly. “He’s been... off.” You closed your laptop. “Off how?” Seokmin scratched the back of his neck. “Quiet. Moodier than usual. Like he’s trying to disappear.” Your chest tightened. “Thanks for telling me. I’m heading out later; maybe I’ll run into him where he usually hangs out?” Seokmin smiled, “Thank you. You really do know him quite well. I appreciate it.” You found him at the park. Curled up on a bench, camera in hand, lenses strewn beside him like offerings. He didn’t even look up when you approached. “You’ve gone full tortured artist,” you said, forcing a smile. Mingyu clicked the shutter. “It’s quieter out here.” You sat beside him. “You didn’t answer my texts.” “I didn’t know what to say.” You smiled softly at him, “Just be honest.” He glanced over. “I want you. But I don’t want to be the one holding you back from figuring things out.” “You’re not holding me back.” “But you’re still stuck.”

You exhaled. “Yeah. I am.”

“Then say that. Don’t kiss me and pretend everything’s fine.”

You looked away. “I’m scared, okay? This... feels like it could be something real. And if it ends, I don’t know how to walk away from that.”

Mingyu’s voice dropped. “Then don’t.”

You blinked at him.

“Don’t walk away.”

You stayed on that bench until the sun dipped below the skyline.

You talked about everything and nothing. About the time he dyed his hair orange in college. About your first heartbreak. About the stupid article you were writing on “types” and how maybe Mingyu didn’t fit yours but kept checking every box anyway.

By the time you got home, your fingers were intertwined with his, and neither of you wanted to let go.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo’s voice caught you at the door.

Wonwoo’s eyes dropped to your hands interlaced with Mingyu. “I see you two are fine?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it again.

“Interesting,” he said.

“Wonwoo, what are you—”

“Don’t worry,” he interrupted. Then, smiling, he said. “It’s fine, just be safe, you guys.”

You gave him a small smile, “Shut up.” ~~ That night, as you lay in Mingyu’s bed with your head on his chest, you couldn’t sleep. The silence between you was heavy, like it was holding its breath. “Mingyu?” “Hmm?” “If this ends badly... I don’t think I’ll survive it.” He kissed your forehead gently. “Then we make sure it doesn’t.”

~~ “You’re late.” Joshua said as you entered the apartment, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. “I didn’t realise I had a curfew,” you muttered, brushing past him into the apartment. “You said you were coming home after dinner.” You kicked off your shoes. “I changed my mind.” Joshua followed you into the kitchen. “So you spent the night at Mingyu’s again?” You grabbed a glass of water. “Can we not do this right now?” Joshua scoffed. “You said this was a casual thing.” “It was.” “And now?” You didn’t answer. He let out a bitter laugh. “So that’s a yes.” “Shua, I’m not asking for your permission—” “No,” he snapped, “but I am your friend. And watching you sleepwalk into something that’s going to rip you apart isn’t easy.” Your chest tightened. “You don’t know that.” “I know you. And I’ve seen how you get when you fall for someone.” You set your glass down a little too hard. “He’s not like the others.” “Maybe not. But you are someone who falls head over heels and more when you like someone, and I’m scared that one tiny misstep on his part will break you.” You didn’t text Mingyu that night. Or the next morning. Or the one after that. You needed space to think. To breathe. To figure out why everything felt like it was unravelling—when on the surface, things had never been more... perfect. So why did you feel so off?

~~ Three days later, Mingyu showed up at your door. “You avoiding me?” He asked, not bothering with hello. You stared at him. “I just needed time.” “Without telling me?” “I didn’t think I needed to give you a heads-up every time I took a breath.” Mingyu’s jaw flexed. “That’s not what this is about, and you know it.” You crossed your arms. “Then what is this about, Mingyu?” “You’re pulling away.” You stayed silent. Mingyu stepped closer. “You said this was real. That you wanted it.” “I did.” “And now?” You opened your mouth, then shut it because you didn’t know. Not really. Mingyu’s voice cracked. “You can’t keep doing this. Wanting me when it’s convenient. Pretending nothing’s changed.” “I’m scared, okay?” You snapped. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be all-in without ruining everything.” His eyes softened for a moment. “So ruin it with me. Together.” You blinked, stunned. But before you could say anything, Wonwoo appeared behind you. “Hey, just checking—” He froze when he saw Mingyu. His expression shifted, cold and unreadable. “Oh. It’s you.” Mingyu’s eyes narrowed. “Nice to see you too.” You rubbed your temples. “Not now, please.” Wonwoo looked at you. “I’ll be in my room. Let me know if you want to talk. Or if you’re done letting him talk at you.” “Wow,” Mingyu muttered. “What’s his deal?” You turned on him. “Don’t.” “Don’t what? Point out the obvious?” “He’s trying to stand up for me.” “Right, and what am I doing? I’m just trying to get you to stand up for yourself, too.” You swallowed hard. “You should go.” Mingyu blinked. “What?” “I need space.” He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. “Mingyu—” He stepped back, something shuttering in his face. “Right. Got it.” And just like that, he walked out. You shut the door and collapsed against it. Your chest ached in that specific, aching way that only happens when you push away something you want because you’re terrified you’ll destroy it. An hour later, your phone buzzed. Mingyu: I won’t chase you. But I’m not going anywhere either. You stared at the screen, heart thudding. Because that was the problem. He wasn’t going anywhere. And maybe that scared you more than anything. ~~ “You haven’t said anything in ten minutes,” Joshua pointed out, glancing at you from the other end of the couch.

“I’m thinking,” you replied, eyes fixed on the paused movie screen, not actually watching. He raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous territory.” You threw a popcorn kernel at him. “Ha-ha.” “Still no Mingyu?” “Nope.” “And that’s... good or bad?” You let out a long breath. “Confusing.” Joshua nodded slowly. “That tracks.” You finally looked at him. “Do you think I’m the problem?” He tilted his head. “Define ‘problem.’” “Do not make this worse.” He laughed under his breath. “Okay, look. You’ve had shit luck with relationships. You guard yourself. You get in your head. And yeah, sometimes you push people away before they can leave.” You blinked. “Damn. Don’t hold back.” “I’m just saying,” Joshua said, a little softer now. “Mingyu seems like the first guy who’s actually trying to stay. That scares the hell out of you, doesn’t it?” You didn’t answer. Later that night, you found yourself scrolling through photos. Pictures Mingyu had taken—blurry ones from the pub crawl, snapshots of street lights and half-smiles and candid moments. One of you laughing into a glass of wine. You hadn’t even known he’d taken that one. There was something about the way he saw the world. The way he saw you. Like he was already memorising you before he had the right to. Your heart ached.

~~ You couldn’t stop pacing. It had been a whole day since the fight, and your chest still felt tight. You hated fighting with Mingyu — it felt unnatural like the world was slightly off balance. You weren’t even sure how it had escalated so quickly.

One moment you were just trying to be honest, saying you needed some space to process everything that had happened between you two. The next, Mingyu was snapping, clearly frustrated, saying it felt like every time you took a step forward, you took two steps back.

Now, you were standing in your living room, debating whether to go over and knock on his door. Joshua had already given you a pep talk, telling you to just be honest with Mingyu, but it still felt like walking into a lion’s den. You weren’t even sure what you’d say.

“Screw it,” you mumbled to yourself, throwing on an oversized hoodie and making your way to his door before you could second-guess yourself again.

You hesitated for a second before giving three firm knocks. You heard some rustling on the other side, and then the door opened, revealing a tired-looking Mingyu. His hair was tousled, and he was in a plain white tee and sweats, but his expression was guarded.

“What do you want?” He asked, his tone sharper than usual.

You swallowed hard, feeling your resolve falter. “Can I come in?”

He hesitated, eyes scanning your face, before he finally stepped aside and let you in. You walked to the living room, standing awkwardly by the couch while Mingyu stayed by the door, arms crossed over his chest. The silence stretched uncomfortably.

“Mingyu,” you started softly, twisting your fingers together. “I hate fighting with you.”

He huffed, looking away. “Yeah, well, I hate feeling like I’m being pushed away every time things start getting good.”

You bit your lip, gathering your thoughts. “That’s not what I was trying to do. I wasn’t trying to push you away.”

“Then what the hell was it?” He snapped, finally turning to look at you, his eyes a mixture of hurt and frustration. “You do all these things that make me feel like this could be something, then the next day you’re saying you need space? I don’t get it. Am I supposed to just keep guessing how you feel?”

You took a deep breath and moved closer, but kept a little distance. “I... I got overwhelmed. I thought that if I took a step back, I’d be able to figure out what I was feeling without dragging you into my mess.”

Mingyu looked at you incredulously. “You are such a hypocrite, you know that? You keep telling me to be honest with how I feel, to just say it when I’m upset or happy or whatever. And then you get overwhelmed and decide to push me away instead of telling me what’s going on in your head.”

The guilt gnawed at your stomach, and you looked down. “I know. You’re right. I’m... I’m scared.”

“Of what?” Mingyu’s voice softened, but he didn’t move closer.

“Of how much I like you. Of how much this means to me. Because if this goes wrong... it’s gonna hurt. A lot,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes.

Mingyu sighed deeply, rubbing his face with one hand. “You’re not the only one who’s scared, you know. I’m terrified of screwing this up too. But you don’t see me trying to put distance between us every time things get intense.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes. “I’m sorry. I just... I didn’t know how to handle it. I never thought I’d care about someone this much again. I just panicked.”

Mingyu finally moved, taking a step toward you. “You can’t keep doing that. You can’t keep pulling back every time you get scared. I can’t take it. I’m all in with you, but I need you to meet me halfway. I can’t keep feeling like I’m chasing after you while you’re running in the opposite direction.”

You nodded, stepping closer until you were right in front of him. “You’re right. I know you are. I’m sorry I keep doing that. I just... I’m scared of losing you, so I keep pushing you away before you can leave on your own.”

Mingyu’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, his hands hovering uncertainly before he cupped your face. “I’m not leaving. Okay? I’m not. You’re stuck with me.”

A small, shaky laugh escaped you, and you leaned into his touch. “I don’t want you to leave.”

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “Then stop making it so hard to stay,” he whispered, his voice softer now, more tender.

You nodded, covering his hands with yours. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.”

His lips quirked into a small smile, and without another word, he leaned down and pressed a gentle, almost hesitant kiss to your lips. You melted into it, your hands sliding up to his shoulders as his fingers curled into your hair. The kiss was slow, tender, like he was reassuring himself that you were really there, that you weren’t going anywhere.

When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but smile up at him, and Mingyu sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re really exhausting sometimes, you know that?”

You let out a soft laugh, nodding. “Yeah. But I’m worth it, right?”

He chuckled, finally wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “Yeah. You are. Just... stop running, okay?”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your cheek. “Okay. I’m done running.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hold tightening around you. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

You looked up at him, and this time you kissed him first, letting your lips linger on his, soft and unhurried. Mingyu hummed contentedly, his hands sliding up your back. The tension melted away, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right again.~~

The next morning, after showering at Mingyu’s apartment and changing, you kissed Mingyu several times, before you left his place, and walked across the hall into your apartment to find Joshua seated at the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal and the look. “You smell like sex and regret,” he said, casually spooning cereal into his mouth. “Morning to you, too.” “Is that Mingyu’s shirt?” You ignored him, heading toward your room. “You know,” he called after you, “I’ve been holding off on the ‘told you so,’ but I’m getting real close to breaking.” You stuck your head out. “Don’t.” Joshua raised both hands. “Just don’t get in too deep if you’re not willing to commit to him. It’ll hurt you both if that happens.” You stared at him. “What if I already am?” He frowned, setting down his spoon. “Then I hope any potential heartache is worth it.” ~~ That afternoon, you curled up on the sofa with your laptop. Article deadline looming. Blank document open. Brain, fried. It wasn’t until Mingyu texted that something sparked: Mingyu: What’s your favourite love story? You stared at the screen. You: Fictional? Mingyu: No. Real. You: Mine hasn’t been written yet. Mingyu: What if we wrote it together? Your chest did that stupid fluttering thing again. Like your heart had gone off-script. You smiled. You: Bold of you to assume you’d make the final draft. Mingyu: You keep rewriting the intro, babe. I’m just trying to stay on the page. You bit your lip, closing the chat. And just like that, your fingers flew across the keyboard. Because suddenly, you had something to say. ~~ Two days later, you knocked on Mingyu’s door with with snacks in attempt to bribe him to edit your lastest draft.

He opened it with sleepy eyes and messy hair, wearing a hoodie that had no business looking that good. “Morning beautiful,” he greeted with a warm smile. You smiled, and held up a USB. “I wrote a my final draft of my most recent article, do you want to help me edit?” Final draft. No red pen needed.”

“Is that why you have snacks?” He asked already smiling. You grinned “Maybe.” “Well in that case, get in here, Hemingway,” he teased, stepping aside to let you in. You watched him read it from across the room. He didn’t say anything for a long time. Just kept scrolling, eyes focused, mouth slightly parted.

When he finished, he looked up. “That last line… ‘a spark can form the most unusual of places and encounters’.” You tilted your head. “Too much?” He shook his head. “No. It’s perfect.” You smiled softly. “It’s about you.” “I figured,” he said, walking over, “but it still wrecked me.” You leaned against the counter. “Good. That’s what great writing does.” He stepped closer. “So, does this mean you’ll fight for us?” “I think so.” He grinned. “Good, that’s all I can ask for.” “I think you already are.” And as he kissed you—slow, deliberate, familiar in all the right ways—you let the weight fall from your shoulders. Because maybe this wasn’t the start of a love story. Maybe it was the chapter where things stopped being a fantasy… ...and finally started feeling real. ~~ “You’ve been quiet all evening.” You glanced up from your wine glass. Mingyu was stretched out on the other side of the couch, hoodie sleeves bunched around his forearms, watching you with careful eyes. “I’m thinking.” “That’s dangerous,” he teased, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Want to talk about it?” “I don’t know how.” He nodded like he understood—but you could tell it still stung. You shifted in your seat. “What are we doing?” Mingyu blinked. “What do you mean?” “This thing. Us. It’s not just sex anymore.” “No, it’s not.” “And we’re not exactly friends either.” “I’m okay with not having a label,” he said. “Are you?” You looked down at your glass. “I want to be.” “But you’re not.” “I’m scared that if I name it, I’ll ruin it.” Mingyu sat up slowly. “You think love ruins things?” “I think people do.” That hit harder than you intended, and you both knew it. Later, when he kissed you, it was slow and sweet, like he was trying to remind you it didn’t have to be scary. You kissed him back with everything you had. And maybe that was the problem. Because giving someone everything? It meant they had the power to break you. ~~ The following day, the tension hadn’t left. You both pretended it had. You made breakfast. He teased you for burning the eggs. You laughed too loudly. He smiled too easily. But the silence between the sentences was deafening. When he finally left, the apartment felt too quiet. And when Joshua came home, he took one look at you and sighed. “Okay. Spill.” You sank onto the sofa. “I think I’m falling for him.” Joshua’s eyes widened; he never thought you’d admit it so quickly, but he didn’t interrupt. “And I don’t know if I’m ready.” He sat beside you, unusually serious. “Then don’t rush it. But don’t run from it either.” “I’m not running.” “You’re limping away at full speed.” You groaned. “God, you’re annoying when you’re right.” He smiled and bumped his shoulder against yours. “I only pull it out when necessary.” ~~ It was one of those quiet evenings, the kind where the city seemed to take a collective breath. You were on your way back from the grocery store, bags in hand, when you spotted Mingyu standing just outside your apartment building. At first, the sight of him made you smile – he was leaning against the railing, his broad shoulders relaxed, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the street lamp.

But then you noticed he wasn’t alone.

A girl stood in front of him, long hair cascading over her shoulders, wearing a fitted leather jacket and heels that clicked against the pavement. She was laughing at something he said, her hand brushing his arm lightly. Your steps faltered, and you instinctively took a step back, ducking behind the edge of the building.

Your heart clenched, a weird mix of confusion and something dangerously close to jealousy settling in your chest. You couldn’t help but feel stupid – why did it bother you so much to see him with someone else? It wasn’t like you had a claim on him. But there was something about how effortlessly beautiful she looked, how easily she made him laugh, that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

A million questions ran through your mind. Did he know her from work? Was she just a friend? Or worse, an ex? You couldn’t help but notice how naturally he smiled at her, the way he leaned down to hear her better, his hand brushing back his hair the way he did when he was feeling a little self-conscious. You felt like a complete idiot, rooted to the spot, irrationally annoyed at how close they seemed.

You peeked around the corner, just enough to see her lean in a bit closer, her hand lingering on his arm. Mingyu seemed a little uncomfortable, glancing down at her hand before giving her a polite smile. They exchanged a few more words that you couldn’t quite hear, and then she waved, heading off down the sidewalk.

You waited until she was out of sight before stepping back out, trying to act natural. You kept your gaze on the ground as you made your way to the entrance, but of course, Mingyu spotted you instantly.

“Hey!” He called out, jogging over to you.

You forced a smile, not quite meeting his eyes. “Hey.”

He seemed to hesitate, studying your face. “What’s up? You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired,” you mumbled, shifting the grocery bag to your other hand.

Mingyu frowned, stepping closer. “Are you sure? You seem... off.”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, offering a small smile that felt too tight. “Yeah, just a long day.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Here, let me help.” Before you could protest, he took one of the bags from your hand, his fingers brushing yours. The familiar warmth made your heart ache, and you bit your lip to keep your expression neutral.

As you walked inside, you couldn’t help but feel silly for feeling so... possessive. You weren’t even sure why it hit you so hard. Sure, Mingyu had been flirty with you, and you had shared some intense moments, but did that really mean he wasn’t allowed to have other girls around?

Your mind kept replaying the way the girl leaned into him, her bright, carefree laugh, and the way Mingyu didn’t immediately step away. You hated how insecure it made you feel, and even more so how your mood had completely flipped.

When you reached your apartment, Mingyu put the bags on the kitchen counter and turned to you, concern etched into his features. “You’re incredibly cute when you’re grumpy, but I must still ask, why did you storm off when I called your name?” Mingyu stood in your doorway, his tone curious.

“I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Of course I noticed.”

You crossed your arms, heart thudding. “You seemed busy.”

Mingyu scoffed. “What does that mean?”

“You were laughing. With some girl.”

“Seokmin’s cousin?”

You looked away. “Does it matter?”

“It does when you weaponise jealousy against me.”

Silence stretched between you like a taut wire ready to snap.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” you whispered.

“But you did.”

You met his eyes. “So did you.”

He sighed, stepping back. “We were supposed to be honest. About what we wanted. About how we felt.”

“You said we didn’t need labels.”

“I didn’t think that meant lying to ourselves.”

Your voice cracked. “I wasn’t lying.”

“No?” He said, eyes searching yours. “Then tell me you don’t care about me.”

You blinked.

Tell him.

Say it.

But you couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t true.

And silence was the loudest answer of all. ~~ You didn’t speak for a week. No texts. No knocks on the door. No laughter through the walls.

It was excruciating. Even Joshua stopped teasing you.

“You okay?” Joshua asked one night, quietly.

You nodded. He didn’t press.

You sat at your laptop, staring at the blinking cursor. You hadn’t written a single word since the argument with Mingyu. It was as if you had lost your muse.

Worse—you might’ve lost him too. ~~ Another three days passed. You were walking home, umbrella flipping inside out in the wind, when you saw it: A plant. Sitting on your doorstep. A bonsai.

With a tiny note taped to the pot.

“Joshua told me you don’t like when plants have human names, but Lydia 2.0 says she misses you. -M”

You stared at it. Then you cried. Not a pretty, cinematic cry. A real one. Messy. Gutting. Cathartic. Because it wasn’t about the plant. It was about the space he left—and how much of you still lived in it. You knocked on his door the next day. No answer. You knocked again. Then again.

Finally, the door opened. Mingyu stood there, in a hoodie and sweatpants, eyes tired, expression guarded.

You held up the note. “You’re still annoying, you know that?”

“Glad to know I still have that effect.”

You exhaled. “Can we talk?”

He stepped aside. You both sat on the floor. No pretence. No distance. Just you two, knees touching.

“I miss you,” you admitted.

Mingyu nodded. “I missed you, too.”

“I panicked,” you confessed. “I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling, and I ran. I always run.”

“And I push,” he said. “When I want something, I push hard for it.”

You looked at him. “This thing between us... it’s not just physical anymore.”

“No,” he said softly. “It’s not.”

You reached for his hand. “So what now?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Now, we start over. No rules. No games. Just us.”

You bit your lip. “And if I mess up again?”

“Then I’ll remind you why you chose me the first time.”

You laughed through your tears. “You’re really good at that, you know?”

Mingyu smiled, leaning forward until your foreheads touched.

“Let’s just take it slow,” you whispered.

He nodded. “Slow sounds perfect.”

And in the quiet of his apartment, with your hand in his and hope blooming in the wreckage. You realised this wasn’t a new chapter. This was the real beginning. ~~ “So, what’s the plan for the housewarming?”

Mingyu’s voice drifted through the doorway as you padded into his kitchen, still half-asleep in your oversized T-shirt, hair sticking up in odd angles. You squinted at him, blinking the sleep out of your eyes.

“What housewarming?” You mumbled, fumbling for your mug and the coffee pot.

Mingyu gave you a lopsided grin. “The one I said we should do this some time next weekend? Seokmin and Seungcheol hyung are finally settled in. So I was planning to invite some of our friends, it’d be a nice way for everyone to see the new place, and we can also invite your housemates too?”

You took a long sip of coffee, the caffeine finally beginning to wake you up. “Oh. Yeah, sounds good. Just drinks and stuff?”

“Yeah, keep it chill—drinks, music, maybe a game or two if Seokmin gets bored enough,” Mingyu replied, leaning back against the counter with that casual confidence of his.

You raised an eyebrow. “You know Seokmin’s going to demand karaoke. Are you prepared for that chaos?”

Mingyu snorted. “I’m mentally preparing. I’ll make sure we have enough soju to tolerate his high notes.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like a solid plan. Who’s handling the drinks and snacks?”

He gave you a thoughtful look. “I’ll handle the drinks, you take care of the snacks? That way I don’t accidentally buy a bunch of instant ramen and call it party food.”

You chuckled, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’ll make a list. You’ll just have to carry all the bags.”

Mingyu smirked. “That’s what I’m here for—manual labor and looking pretty.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the fond smile tugging at your lips. “You do one of those things better than the other.”

He made a face. “Wow, that’s harsh. I’ll have you know, I can carry all the groceries in one trip.”

“Sure, Hercules,” you teased, pouring yourself another cup of coffee. “Are you inviting everyone from the building or just the usual crowd?”

“Just the usual. Maybe a few others from the floor if Seokmin gets carried away. You know how he is—an introverted social butterfly in a chaotic package,” Mingyu replied, shaking his head fondly.

You hummed in agreement. “I’ll handle the playlist then. Can’t trust you to not play EDM the whole night.”

Mingyu put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “I have taste, okay? Just because I like a good bass drop doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate your acoustic love songs.”

You rolled your eyes. “I swear, if I hear one remix of a ballad, I’m kicking you out of your own party.”

He laughed, giving you a soft look. “Deal. I’ll keep it classy. Promise.”

As you both continued planning, Mingyu pulled out his phone, showing you a few decoration ideas. You couldn’t help but notice how excited he seemed about hosting—how he wanted everything to be perfect. It was endearing, really.

“So, we’ll get some fairy lights, right?” Mingyu asked, scrolling through a list of supplies.

You nodded. “Definitely. Maybe some cute string lights too, for the balcony. And I’ll put together a few cocktail recipes—something easy for people to mix themselves.”

Mingyu grinned. “You know, we make a pretty good team.”

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. “Yeah, we do.”

He leaned closer, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just make sure you save a dance for me, alright? Even if Seokmin’s singing ‘I Want It That Way’ at the top of his lungs.”

You snorted. “I’ll consider it—if you promise to at least try not to drink every cocktail I make.”

Mingyu chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “No promises. Your drinks are dangerously good.”

You gave him a soft smile, warmth spreading through you at his touch. As the two of you continued planning, you couldn’t help but think that this housewarming wasn’t just about the new place—it was about starting something new between the two of you, too.

~~ You were sitting on the living room couch, scrolling through your phone when you heard the front door open. Wonwoo stepped inside, holding a takeout bag, his shoulders looking a little less tense than usual after a long day at work. You looked up and gave him a small smile as he kicked off his shoes.

“Long day?” You asked, setting your phone down.

Wonwoo nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. “Yeah. Presentation ran over time, and then the client had about a thousand questions.”

You gestured for him to sit next to you, and he plopped down on the couch, stretching his legs out. “Well, I’ve got some news that might cheer you up,” you said, a hint of excitement in your voice.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What now? You won the lottery or something?”

“Better,” you grinned. “There’s a party this weekend. Mingyu and his roommates are hosting a housewarming.”

Wonwoo gave you a skeptical look. “A party? At Mingyu’s place?”

“Yep,” you confirmed. “Seokmin and Cheol are finally settled in, and Mingyu thought it’d be a good idea to invite everyone over. Drinks, music, probably some weird games if Seokmin has anything to say about it.”

Wonwoo snorted, shaking his head. “Sounds chaotic. But it could be fun.”

You nodded. “Exactly. Plus, it’s a good way to get to know everyone better. I already told Mingyu we’d be there.”

He gave you a sideways glance. “You sure about that? Joshua’s been swamped lately. Don’t know if he’ll be up for it.”

You mock pouted at him. “Come on Wonwoo, please?” “Fine, against my better judgement, fine.”

Wonwoo took a breathe and gave you scrutinising look. “So... what’s the deal with you and Mingyu?”

Your smile faltered slightly. “What do you mean?”

He crossed his arms, clearly not letting this go. “I mean, you’re now planning a party together? Isn’t that something incredibly couple like? Are you two a thing now or what?”

You hesitated, not sure how to put it into words. “We’re... figuring things out. It’s not really labeled or anything.”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “You sure you’re not rushing into something? You haven’t really known him that long.”

You bristled slightly. “It’s not like that. We’re just spending time together, seeing where it goes.”

“Spending time, huh? You know that’s how people get feelings right?” Wonwoo said cautiously.

You frowned. “I’m not some lovesick idiot, you know. I know how to take care of myself.” Wonwoo raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just looking out for you. I’ve you get hurt and cry over idiots, I don’t want crying over yet another guy.”

Your stomach twisted at his words, a tiny seed of doubt planting itself despite your best efforts to ignore it. “Mingyu’s not like that, he’s kind, warm and compassionate.”

Wonwoo gave you a half-smile. “You sure not love sick?”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just nodded. Wonwoo gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading to his room.

Left alone with your thoughts, frustration bubbled under your skin. You didn’t want to doubt Mingyu, but Wonwoo’s words kept bouncing around your head. To dispel the tension, you found yourself cleaning the living room with more force than necessary, wiping down the coffee table and fluffing the pillows like they’d personally offended you.

After vacuuming the floor and reorganizing the bookshelf twice, you stopped to catch your breath, realizing how ridiculous you were being. You were annoyed—not just with Wonwoo, but with yourself for letting his words get to you. You couldn’t help it. Mingyu made you feel safe, seen and cared for, and Wonwoo’s word sowed a seed of worry in your mind.

The sound of a knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You opened it, and there stood Mingyu, leaning against the frame with a casual smile.

“Hey, the apartment door was open,” he greeted, his voice soft.

“Hey,” you replied, trying to muster a smile.

Mingyu’s eyes roamed the room, noticing the freshly cleaned space. “Wow. Did you go on a cleaning spree?”

You shrugged. “Just needed to do something to clear my head.”

He gave you a curious look, his smile fading a bit. “Something on your mind?”

You bit your lip, debating whether to bring up what Wonwoo said. “Just... thinking about stuff.”

Mingyu stepped closer, his hand reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

Your heart squeezed at the simple, sincere gesture. You leaned into his touch, letting out a long breath. “It’s nothing, really. Just overthinking, I guess.”

He cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing your skin. “You sure? I don’t like seeing you stressed.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “I’m fine. Just... needed a distraction.”

Mingyu’s lips quirked up in a gentle smile. “I’m good at distractions.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing from your shoulders. Mingyu’s presence had a way of making the chaos in your mind feel a little quieter.

“Stay?” You whispered.

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “Always.”

You let out a small sigh of relief, and without thinking, you closed the distance between your lips, kissing him softly. Mingyu responded immediately, his hands slipping to your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss was slow, unhurried—like he was taking his time to reassure you that he wasn’t going anywhere.

When you finally pulled back, Mingyu gave you a soft smile, brushing his nose against yours. “Feel better?”

You smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest. “Yeah. A lot better.”

Mingyu pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling you into a warm hug. You closed your eyes, letting the comfort of his embrace push away the doubts that had threatened to take over.

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svt-luna · 1 month ago

Text

ʚིᵋ ⋆ NANA TOUR ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── episode 1-4.

Nana Tour with SEVENTEEN

synopsis: Episode 1-4! Something happened in their house. The travelers take breaks, but their fun never stops! SEVENTEEN must beat Guide Na in a game to win toiletries!

wc: 17k

i know, i know, i know and i apologize that this took so long. i have been so busy with my other works and busy with drama i never asked for, i completely ignored Nana Tour, so I’m sorry, my lovelies! anyway! this is the last part of episode one! after this will be the fan reaction tweets for all of episode one before moving on to episode two, specifically episode 2-1! hope you guys enjoy this! happy reading, my loves! 🤍

p.s. i also added the first 7 minutes of ep. 2-1 at the end to make this episode longer and to make up for taking forever to post this 🤍

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

╰ ౨ৎ fan reactions ╰ ౨ৎ nana tour masterlist

[added captions are in brackets] ღ

bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ

The bus finally slowed to a stop on a quiet street, the gentle hum of the engine fading as the brakes hissed beneath them. The night was cool and the street was bathed in a soft yellow glow from the vintage lampposts. Outside, the narrow cobblestone road curved gently uphill, flanked by charming stucco buildings with wooden shutters and crawling ivy, their windows glowing with the warm light of evening residents.

[They have arrived… kinda]

Inside the bus, the SEVENTEEN members stirred, stretching and groaning softly, their bodies stiff from hours of travel. Just as a few hands reached upwards toward overhead compartments to stretch and others began adjusting their jackets to brace for the walk outside, PD Na’s voice rang through the bus like an announcement at school assembly.

“Seven-minute walk. Group yourselves— two groups of four people and one group of five people.”

A collective groan rose up in good-natured complaint.

“Seven minutes??” Dino whined jokingly from his seat, already slumping as if gravity had doubled.

[Yes.]

“I thought we were there,” Wonwoo muttered, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses.

But despite the exaggerated sighs and complaints, the energy was still light. They were in Italy. The exhaustion was real, yes, but the buzz of being somewhere new— somewhere this beautiful— kept their spirits alive.

The members slowly made their way out of the bus, stepping into the crisp air one by one.

The first to bounce out, unsurprisingly, were Jeonghan and Luna. They both looked like they had just escaped from captivity, heads immediately lifting to scan their surroundings, legs already moving before anyone could even call roll.

PD Na stepped out next and began counting. Jeonghan, standing beside him, helped in his own way— mostly by pointing.

“Okay… one, two, three, four, five,” PD Na and Jeonghan said almost in unison, gesturing to the first cluster: Jeonghan, Luna, Woozi, Dino, and Seungkwan.

[Grouped together due to the large amount of members]

“First group, go ahead,” PD Na announced, waving his hand like a traffic officer.

The five nodded, and just like that, the front group began making their way up the cobbled street, Jeonghan and Luna instinctively leading with brisk, determined steps.

[And they are off]

Behind them, the second group began assembling: Minghao, Jun, Wonwoo, and Hoshi. They exchanged glances, checking that everyone was ready before following the first group with a more relaxed pace, chatting among themselves.

Lastly, the final group brought up the rear: Mingyu, Dokyeom, Joshua, and Vernon. They trailed behind the camera crew and PD Na, who strolled alongside them while keeping an eye on the groups ahead.

Though they were exhausted— bags under their eyes, hair tousled from the flight, shoulders drooping— they were in Rome. And that fact alone kept everyone wide-eyed, pointing at the quaint balconies, the parked Vespas, and the small cafés still open late into the evening.

Minghao glanced at a hanging plant outside a window and whispered something to Jun that made them both laugh. Hoshi occasionally paused to point out something “cool” about the buildings.

Meanwhile, up ahead, Jeonghan and Luna had started to outpace their own group. Their strides quickened, not quite a run, but unmistakably a power-walk, almost as if there were a race to the Airbnb and they were neck-and-neck in first place.

[It’s every man for themselves]

“Are they speedwalking??” Woozi muttered.

[They are.]

“They’re gonna be tucked in before we even find the house,” Dino said under his breath.

The rest of their group chuckled, keeping a steady pace while watching the two sleep-deprived bunnies dart ahead, side by side.

Back with the last group, Dokyeom— hands shoved in his pockets, hair still ruffled from his bus nap— suddenly chuckled and lifted a finger to point toward the front.

“Those two are really something else,” he said with a laugh, nodding in the direction of Luna and Jeonghan, who were now about ten paces ahead of even their own group.

PD Na followed his gaze and let out a chuckle, amusement crinkling his eyes. The rest of the group followed his line of sight and instantly burst into laughter.

There they were— Luna and Jeonghan— marching like their lives depended on it, their silhouettes framed by the ancient walls around them, looking less like idols on a filming schedule and more like two classmates desperate to get to a sleepover first to claim the best bed.

“It’s like we’re not even here,” PD Na chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You have to excuse them,” Seungkwan piped up from the middle group, throwing an exaggerated glance back over his shoulder as he jogged to keep up. His voice was perfectly theatrical, like a translator explaining cultural context. “They are running on adrenaline at this point.”

[Team bunny is low on battery]

The members burst out laughing again.

Jeonghan and Luna were far ahead of the others now, their silhouettes cutting sleek outlines against the night, moving like a pair of escapees on a mission to conquer the bed first.

Behind them, the sounds of laughter drifted from the groups catching up, chuckles trailing like distant music.

“They think we can’t hear them,” Jeonghan snickered, tilting his head slightly without turning around, his voice low and laced with that signature drawl of mischief. His lips curled into a smug smile, pleased by the obvious attention they were getting from the peanut gallery behind them.

[Loves the attention]

Luna hummed in agreement, her steps slowing just a little, her eyes lazily blinking. Without a word, she reached out, wrapped her arms around Jeonghan’s, and hugged it close to her body. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder, the soft material of his shirt cushioning the side of her face.

[Battery saving mode]

Jeonghan glanced down with an arched brow but didn’t say anything. The smugness faded slightly, replaced with a soft amusement at her dramatics.

“I’m tired,” Luna mumbled, her voice muffled against his arm like a toddler ready to throw herself to the floor in protest.

Jeonghan, without missing a beat, looked straight ahead and deadpanned, “Then sleep here. I’ll tell Seungcheol you lived a good life.”

[Snitch]

Luna scoffed through a tired laugh, hitting his arm with the flat of her hand. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Says the one clinging to me like she’s being dragged out of a funeral,” Jeonghan quipped, not even flinching as she gave him another light smack.

She groaned exaggeratedly and dragged her feet even more for effect, her head still leaning against him like he was the only thing keeping her upright. “Can’t we just teleport? Isn’t that one of the SEVENTEEN perks?”

[Lack of sleep makes you want to have superpowers]

Jeonghan snorted. “You should’ve joined the performance team. I heard Hoshi’s been working on teleportation through dance.”

“That’s too much work,” Luna grumbled.

[Everything is too much work at this point for her]

“Exactly. That’s why you’re stuck walking like a zombie beside me.” He smirked and glanced down at her again. “You look like Cherry after she gets thrown across the bed.”

Luna paused and then let out a cackle. “Excuse me, Cherry always lands with style. She’s a survivor.”

“She’s in the pocket of your jacket right now like a hostage,” Jeonghan said.

[Peekaboo]

“And she’s sleeping better than both of us,” Luna shot back, eyes barely open now. “I should’ve been reborn as a plushie.”

“You kind of are one,” Jeonghan muttered.

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” he said, smile tugging at his lips as he looked ahead again.

Their pace had slowed to a gentle crawl now, like two elderly citizens taking a midnight stroll through Rome, except one was leaning all her weight on the other, and the other was just smug enough to make it look like he wasn’t tired at all.

From behind, the rest of the members could still see them, even from several meters back. Luna clinging onto Jeonghan like a toddler on a shopping trip, Jeonghan walking like he had the entire street reserved just for himself and the girl glued to his side.

The cobblestone echoed under their feet. Rome whispered around them. And ahead? The promise of warmth, of beds, of pajamas, and maybe— just maybe— some peace.

If they could survive the last few minutes without collapsing from chaos or each other.

The group had finally turned onto the narrow cobblestone street where their Airbnb was supposedly located. The air was colder now, carrying the scent of old stone, faint pasta from nearby restaurants, and a hint of jetlagged misery. Luna’s steps dragged behind Jeonghan’s, her arms still locked tightly around his, eyes nearly closed as if she could nap while walking.

Jeonghan slowed as they reached the edge of the quiet street, eyes scanning the buildings before his gaze locked onto a massive, ancient wooden door across the road. It looked like something out of a medieval RPG— arched, heavy, slightly weathered, and holding the kind of presence that whispered, secrets live inside here.

[Not castle doors… Airbnb doors]

“I guess it’s that one,” Jeonghan said, casually nodding toward the intimidating door.

Luna lifted her head slightly from where it rested on his shoulder, her eyes squinting at the direction he pointed. “Which one?” she asked sleepily, voice gravelly like she was seconds away from snoring.

“That one,” he repeated with a tired nod, gesturing across the street again, like he was pointing at a haunted castle.

“It’s here?” Woozi asked, his voice dry and a little skeptical, as he and the rest of their group caught up from behind.

“Wow, it’s here?” Wonwoo echoed, blinking as they all shuffled forward, bags hanging from their shoulders like battle-worn capes. The entire group stood outside the wooden gate, staring up at it like it might suddenly open on its own and welcome them with a butler and slippers.

Jeonghan, ever the oldest-child energy when it came to things like this, walked ahead and reached out with one hand. Luna stayed right beside him, standing upright for the first time in ten minutes as she eyed the door with suspicion.

He pressed his palm against it and gave it a push.

The door creaked open, slow and dramatic, as if it had been waiting for them for a century. Luna peeked in beside him, the hallway beyond dimly lit and lined with stone steps curling upward.

“Is this the right place?” Dino asked cautiously, his head leaning in from behind Jeonghan’s shoulder.

[Yup]

PD Na, bringing up the rear of the second group, looked at his phone and gave a confirming nod. “This is it. Go ahead.”

With that, like migrating penguins spotting their seasonal nest, the first group started filing in. Jeonghan led the charge, stepping through the old doorframe as if it were a portal into salvation. Luna walked beside him like she was entering a sacred temple.

Stairs. There were stairs. Of course there were stairs.

“Man, I’m tired,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath as he trudged upward, each step sounding heavier than the last.

“Tired,” Luna echoed in a hum, her tone flat like an automatic voice response, her hand gripping the railing like it might dissolve if she let go.

[Stairs will help with that!]

The others followed behind in clusters, their dragging footsteps echoing off the narrow stairwell as more and more SEVENTEEN members filled the tight hallway like clowns piling into a miniature car. Their sleepyheads— all bundled together in a sluggish swarm of idol exhaustion.

And they just. Kept. Coming.

[Takes them years to get inside]

“Oh, they keep on coming,” PD Na muttered under his breath with a soft chuckle, standing at the foot of the stairs as the tail end of the last group—Mingyu, Dokyeom, Joshua, and Vernon— filed in, their bags thudding softly against the walls as they tried not to trip over each other.

The staircase creaked beneath the weight of idol dreams and fatigue, but the energy was lighthearted, funny in that surreal “we’ve-been-awake-for-too-long” kind of way.

And even though they were practically zombies… the laughter and muttering never stopped.

They were finally home— for tonight, at least.

Once all thirteen members had made it inside, the door shutting with a collective thud behind them, the energy shifted instantly. Gone was the medieval castle aesthetic from outside— the heavy wooden door, the worn stone walls, and the echo of centuries past. Inside? It was a complete 180. White walls, soft yellow lighting, light wood furniture, cozy rugs and potted plants tucked in corners— it was clean, minimalist, almost Ikea-esque.

[Wasn’t expecting that]

“Oh?” Jeonghan blinked, eyebrows rising as he stepped further in.

“This is kinda cute,” Seungkwan muttered as he looked around.

The members instantly split off in every direction like kids who’d just been released into recess. Shoes thumped against the floor, travel-weary bags were dragged along, and the tiredness momentarily gave way to exploration.

“This is the two person room— two people is cozy,” Woozi announced, peeking into the first room. He opened the door wide, revealing a simple room with two single beds, white sheets, and a small window that let in the soft glow of a streetlamp.

“Four people room,” Jeonghan said as he opened the next door across the hallway. Inside, two single beds sat side by side with a double decker bed pushed to the corner. The walls were just as plain white, but a few small paintings gave it a tiny bit of character.

“This is a three person room,” Wonwoo said, gesturing to another door while stepping aside so the rest could peek in. The moment he opened it, the boys skillfully weaved between each other, craning their necks like they were examining rare Pokémon cards.

[It’s a full house]

“There are bunk beds! Bunk beds!” Dokyeom called out from the far side of the apartment. His eyes were wide, almost glittering. He might as well have discovered buried treasure.

“That’s cute,” Luna said, stepping into the three-person room with a slow, appreciative nod. Her voice was quiet but pleased. There was a soft sense of nostalgia in her tone.

“This is very nostalgic,” she murmured, walking her fingers along the metallic edge of the top bunk as if mentally placing herself back in their first ever dorm.

[Reminds them of the past]

“Right? They have bunk beds from the past. They have that,” Dokyeom echoed enthusiastically, practically bouncing on his feet. “Oh, I like it so much.”

“Is this the three people room?” Jeonghan asked as he joined Luna by the door, eyes scanning the space.

“Mhm,” Luna hummed in confirmation.

“It’s neat,” Dino said from behind.

“But how do we decide this?” Mingyu asked, turning back toward the rest with furrowed brows, his arms half-crossed as if already bracing for chaos.

“Just like how we always did back in the day,” Jeonghan replied, waving everyone to the dining table with a half-tired, half-playful authority.

And like that, all thirteen members gathered at the center dining table. The table wasn’t big enough for all of them to sit comfortably, but they made it work anyway— knees bumping, elbows knocking, loud voices overlapping.

[This is how 13/14 SEVENTEEN looks when they eat together]

Jeonghan, slipping into his natural oldest-hyung, vice-leader mode with the smoothness of someone who’d done this for over a decade, sat at the middle of the table.

“Okay,” he said, looked around at all of them. “Like we used to do before— pre-debut and rookie days style. We’re deciding rooms old school.”

The members nodded, some smirking knowingly, others already preparing to fight for bunk beds.

“As always,” Jeonghan added, holding up a finger as he looked directly at Luna, “Jiyeonie picks first.”

[The princess picks first]

No one protested. Not a single voice argued, not a single eyebrow twitched. It was an unspoken law among SEVENTEEN— one not written, but honored consistently throughout their years together.

When it came to games, Going SEVENTEEN challenges, variety show chaos, and on-camera nonsense, Luna was fair game. They teased her, joked around, made her guess the lies, cheated, and sabotage answers. But when it came to her actual comfort— her sleeping arrangements, her wellbeing—she always got first pick. No games. No rock-paper-scissors. No age order.

Luna chose first.

It was SEVENTEEN Rule.

Jeonghan turned to her, voice softening just a touch. “Go ahead, Nana-ya. Choose.”

She blinked slowly, half-asleep already. “Thank you,” she muttered, her voice almost a yawn as she stood up with Cherry in her arms.

[Off she goes]

She padded off toward the three-person room she had her eyes on earlier. Inside, she walked straight over to the single bed by the door— slightly apart from the other two single beds that were right next to each other.

Gently, she placed Cherry on the bed.

[Chosen her bed for the their stay tonight]

“I’ll stay here,” she announced, patting the plush on its tiny head as if signing a deed of ownership, before quietly walking back out and returning to the table.

“You done?” Jeonghan asked, glancing at her.

“Yup,” she replied with a sleepy nod.

“You like the one you chose?” he asked again with a small grin.

“Yes, thank you,” she said sincerely, standing off to the side.

Jeonghan gave her a brief nod, then cracked his knuckles like a seasoned game master preparing for battle. He raised his fist.

“Divide and do rock-paper-scissors and the first place will go next followed by the second and onwards,” he announced.

“Okay!” came a collective chorus from the members, energy suddenly rising like they’d just downed three shots of espresso each.

[The battle begins]

The room exploded with movement as the members quickly grouped off into informal clumps, already sizing each other up like Who’s the weak link? Who always does paper first?

“Rock-paper-scissors!”

The chant bounced off the walls in overlapping waves, as hands flew into the air with every round. Laughter, fake betrayal, and loud accusations echoed through the apartment like a chorus of overgrown kids trying to decide who gets the top bunk first.

From her spot leaning on the wall near the kitchen, Luna simply watched them with an amused expression, arms crossed, and blinking slowly like a panda about to hibernate— comfortably amused, completely unbothered.

[Is used to it]

Once the room order was finally settled through a flurry of dramatic rock-paper-scissors matches and chaotic cheers and groans, the members began shuffling through the Airbnb with renewed energy— despite the fatigue weighing down their limbs. With Luna already having claimed her spot in the three-person room, the rest of the boys moved like curious tourists through the hallways, poking their heads into doorways and inspecting every bed like professional room critics.

[Finally choosing their rooms]

They filtered in and out of the rooms, chatting amongst themselves and silently marking their chosen territory. Some went straight for top bunks like it was muscle memory, others tested mattresses with light bounces like they were considering a hotel suite instead of a nostalgic lodging in the heart of Rome.

Luna’s room ended up shared with Jun and Dino. Her bed was the single one separated by a bit of space from the other two parallel beds— one Jun quickly claimed and the other Dino flopped on without contest.

The two-person room, cozy and minimalist, was quietly taken by Vernon and Minghao, both naturally leaning into the quieter atmosphere as they wordlessly nodded and unpacked… a Vernon’s baseball cap and the one jacket they each wore.

[NANA Tour unpacking style]

The first four-person room became home to the louder quartet of Dokyeom, Mingyu, Hoshi, and Joshua. Predictably chaotic, they practically dove into their beds while comparing who could starfish the widest.

[The loud room]

Meanwhile, the second four-person room— slightly more tucked away and quiet— housed Woozi, Wonwoo, Seungkwan, and Jeonghan. Despite being a powerhouse lineup of loud commentary and variety charisma, the room itself was unusually calm as the four boys settled in with their phones.

[The quiet room]

With no real luggage to unpack, their belongings consisted mostly of jackets hung on bedposts, caps and sunglasses tossed aside, and pouches from the airplane either abandoned or tucked under pillows for safekeeping. There was no immediate rush to unpack or organize; instead, the house began to fill with low, comfortable noise: footsteps padding between rooms, casual conversations drifting through doorways, and the occasional “Hey, I’m stealing your bed for a sec” followed by laughter.

Members wandered between rooms naturally, laying across each other’s beds without hesitation, continuing conversations that had started either on the bus or mid-flight. Jun poked his head into the first four-person room to join their group. Hoshi wandered into Luna’s room to talk to Dino before moving again. It was the usual brand of SEVENTEEN chaos— messy, loud, familiar.

[They are making themselves at home]

Luna found herself walking down the hallway again, arms folded, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she slowly wandered to where Jeonghan’s room was. When she nudged the door open, she was met with a picture of pure stillness: all four boys, the sound of the air conditioning was the only thing heard and then there they were on their phones like monks in quiet meditation.

[No noise whatsoever]

Wonwoo was curled into the top bunk, one leg hanging over the side, phone raised above him. Woozi was sat on the bottom bunk with his head down as he scrolled through his phone. Seungkwan was sprawled across his bed horizontally with both legs hanging off one end. And Jeonghan was propped up lazily against the headboard of his single bed, arms relaxed behind his head as he stared into his phone like he was waiting for the stock market to crash.

“Hannie, can I have my AirPods? I gave it to you earlier,” Luna mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes as she stepped closer, dragging her feet slightly.

[Bunny broke the silence]

Without looking up, Jeonghan calmly reached into the front pocket of his pants and pulled out the AirPods. He extended his arm, wrist flicking slightly as he handed them over like it was a well-practiced move.

“Stop rubbing your eyes,” he said flatly, a soft sternness in his tone that only Luna ever got from him.

[Bunny scolds bunny]

Luna’s hand froze mid-rub then blinked at the warning and immediately dropped her hand from her face with a small pout, now blinking at him like a scolded kitten. “Okay…”

Jeonghan raised a brow, already shutting his phone off before dropping it on the bed. “You’re going to rub them until they fall off.”

“They won’t fall off,” Luna muttered, her voice small and defensive as she pocketed her AirPods.

“They might,” he shrugged, still watching her. “You rub like you’re trying to erase your entire day.”

“I feel like erasing the day,” she replied, dragging her voice with a sleepy huff.

“You’re dramatic,” Jeonghan deadpanned, settling back onto his bed.

“You like it,” Luna shot back, already half-turned to leave the room.

Jeonghan smirked faintly, his voice following her as moved to walk away, “I must, because I haven’t thrown you out a window yet.”

[Yes. This is how they talk to each other]

Across the room, the others were unfazed, still immersed in their phones. It was a natural rhythm they had— somehow peaceful despite their number.

But just as Luna reached the door, a voice called out from the hallway.

“Wait in the room for five minutes!” one of the producers announced from the corridor, voice echoing slightly as he knocked on their doorframe to get their attention.

[And now they can’t leave]

They all glanced up from their phones just as PD Na poked his head into the room.

[Peekaboo]

“Please wait in the room for five to ten minutes,” he said.

“Yes,” Woozi responded, his voice not even lifting from its half-mutter tone.

“Okay,” Wonwoo added simply.

With that, PD Na disappeared down the hall again, presumably delivering the same message to the rest of the members.

[What is he planning?]

There was a short pause before Woozi chuckled and shook his head, eyes still on his screen. “His eyes are weird. I keep saying this.”

A chorus of low laughter followed.

“They have spun around,” Seungkwan added with a soft wheeze, thumb scrolling through his feed.

“Crazier than to just express it like that,” Woozi muttered again, grinning as he rolled onto his side.

“They were setting something up outside,” Luna muttered, eyes already heavy as she wordlessly walked back and crawled onto Jeonghan’s bed. Without needing to be told, Jeonghan shifted slightly, creating space for her to plop down next to him. She didn’t hesitate to settle against his side like it was instinct, head resting on his shoulder.

[She is ready to tap out]

“They are,” Wonwoo said in agreement, peeking through the door and seeing PD Na and crew members moving things around in the dining area.

[Doing something he is told not to do]

“Sleepy…” Luna trailed off in a barely-there whisper, eyes now fully closed, cheek pressed against Jeonghan’s shirt.

“You should take a nap before we get called back out, noona,” Seungkwan said, still scrolling, tone warm but distracted.

But Luna didn’t reply. She was already half-asleep.

[She has indeed tapped out]

Jeonghan looked down at her fondly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“She’s way ahead of you,” he said, lifting one hand to rest it gently on her head, fingers combing through her hair in slow, absentminded strokes before turning his attention back to his phone like it was just another day in their strange, wonderful circus.

Finally after fifteen minutes of waiting PD Na called for them.

[15 minutes later]

The muffled buzz of movement started faintly— soft thuds of slippers against hardwood floors, the creak of bunk beds shifting, and rustling clothes— as PD Na’s voice carried through the walls from the dining area.

“Okay, members who are ready can come in first!”

The call wasn’t loud, but clear enough to stir the atmosphere. In Jeonghan’s room, the quiet had settled so comfortably that the sudden outside movement felt like a different world. The others stirred.

Wonwoo and Woozi were the first to silently leave the room and head out. Seungkwan was the next to move, standing up with a groan, cracking his back with all the drama of someone who’d just completed a triathlon. He stretched and turned toward Luna’s small frame still curled tightly against Jeonghan, fast asleep, arms loosely tucked near her face, her cheek pillowed against Jeonghan’s shoulder.

He bent forward, hand raised halfway to gently tap her awake— but paused.

[Scared of the bunny]

Jeonghan was already looking at him.

Still sitting comfortably against the headboard, one leg bent, one hand still rhythmically carding through Luna’s hair, Jeonghan stared at Seungkwan with the most you go ahead and try expression on his face. His smirk was small but sharp, almost imperceptible if you weren’t familiar with his arsenal of subtle chaos. His eyes, however, were practically daring Seungkwan to proceed. Go on. Wake her up. See what happens.

Seungkwan held his hand there for another beat, then dropped it with a deep sigh of surrender.

[Should I?]

He pointed directly at Jeonghan, eyes already half-glazed with defeat. “You do it.”

[I shouldn’t.]

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and shuffled out of the room, muttering under his breath about how this would be the last time he tries to help anyone in this group.

[Bye]

Jeonghan chuckled softly, watching him go. Once the footsteps faded down the hall, he looked back down at the girl curled beside him, the tiniest pout now on her lips in her sleep.

He tilted his head, mischief playing just behind his lashes. Then, slowly, with a gentleness only he could muster, he leaned down and whispered right near her ear—

“Cherry’s been staring at me for ten minutes. I think she wants me to give her away.”

[What?]

Luna stirred immediately, brow furrowing. She didn’t open her eyes just yet, but she groaned softly.

“She’s judging me, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan continued, voice still low and full of innocent concern. “I think she’s thinking about pressing charges.”

Still no response. Just a louder groan.

Jeonghan leaned a little closer.

“She told me you snore,” he whispered.

At that, Luna’s arm sluggishly reached out to blindly swat in his direction. It didn’t connect. He chuckled under his breath.

“Mmmn… stop saying lies… Cherry is in my room…” her voice finally emerged, hoarse and soft with sleep.

[She is… Jeonghan is seeing and hearing things…]

“She also said you drooled on me.”

Luna’s eyes barely fluttered open now, narrowing at him with the effort of someone still fighting the gravitational pull of a nap. “I didn’t…”

Jeonghan tilted his head innocently. “I have the emotional trauma to prove it.”

Luna groaned again, rolling halfway onto her back and covering her face with one arm. “You’re so annoying.”

[He is.]

He smiled. “And you’re awake. Mission accomplished.”

Luna peeked at him from under her arm, blinking slowly. “How long was I asleep?”

“Long enough for Seungkwannie to chicken out and make me do this.”

[Yup]

She yawned, sitting up slowly and running a hand through her tangled hair. “Of course he did.”

Jeonghan stood first and reached a hand out to her. “Come on, they’re herding us into the dining room.”

Luna took his hand without hesitation, still sluggish, still blinking sleep away. “I hate you,” she muttered as he pulled her up.

He grinned, patting the top of her head. “You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

[They love each other]

With that, they stepped out into the hallway, soft laughter trailing after them as they made their way toward the commotion slowly building in the dining room.

The small dining area was now fully lit, crammed tight with crew members, lighting gear, and two cameras squeezed into opposite corners to capture every possible angle of the chaos about to unfold.

Jeonghan and Luna emerged from the hallway, the tail end of the last ones to exit their rooms, and found the rest of SEVENTEEN already filing into the dining chairs squished around the table. The place looked barely enough to hold half of them, and yet somehow, all thirteen of them made it work with the well-practiced choreography of a group that had done this for over a decade.

[Its crowded]

The once-empty wall behind them now featured a glaringly large white banner hanging slightly askew with bold red letters that read: TAX FREE.

“Tax Free?” Luna muttered under her breath, her tone vaguely suspicious as she eyed the banner with her brow furrowed, the syllables slipping out with a trace of her natural accent, muddled from sleep. She rubbed her eyes once more and let her body fall into the seat between Jeonghan and Dokyeom. “We’re playing for necessities aren’t we?”

[Yes, you are.]

The members were still shuffling, elbows brushing, thighs pressed close. Chairs creaked. Shoes scraped the tiles. Jun settled into his seat across from her, squinting at the banner as he adjusted his hoodie. “Anyway, it’s an individual battle starting now, right?”

“Tax free?” Joshua echoed as he read it aloud, voice laced with intrigue.

“Tax free?” Hoshi blinked at it like he was just seeing it for the first time, despite staring directly at it the moment they walked in.

“Tax free means no tax,” Joshua offered helpfully, ever the gentleman with an explanation even when no one asked.

“I guess we are buying accommodation items,” Dokyeom chuckled, eyes darting around as if trying to guess what sort of chaos they were about to be thrown into next.

[Yes, you are pt. 2]

From behind the cameras, one of the producers suddenly raised his voice to be heard over the chatter, “Jeonghan, is everyone here?”

As vice-leader, especially with S.Coups absent, Jeonghan instinctively straightened in his seat and swept his eyes across the group. His gaze moved like a scanner, silently counting heads and noting the familiar faces one by one. Then he gave a single nod towards the crew, casual yet definitive. “Yes.”

[Lets start]

“Okay,” the producer replied before stepping aside, allowing PD Na himself to reappear from the back of the room— dragging behind him a tiny black luggage bag that looked more like a prop than anything useful.

“Cute,” Mingyu commented instantly, watching PD Na shuffle dramatically toward them.

“It’s an item,” Woozi muttered with squinted suspicion.

They all leaned in slightly, interest piqued.

With an exaggerated grunt, PD Na heaved the small luggage bag up onto the dining table. It landed with a solid thud that echoed across the cramped room.

[What’s inside it?]

“Wow,” a few of the members said in unison.

“What?” Seungkwan asked, eyebrows raised.

“What is that?” Luna added, her brows furrowing again as she leaned forward, already plotting mentally whether this was going to be food, clothes, or some sort of trap disguised as a reward.

“Food!” Dokyeom yelled with sudden enthusiasm, hands clapping as if willing it to manifest into snacks.

[Sorry]

PD Na raised both his hands in the air to settle the growing energy. “Okay, everyone. First off, congratulations.”

A few claps erupted on cue.

“We arrived at the dorm in 24 hours.”

[They have been traveling for a whole day]

The room burst into louder applause and celebratory noises. Some tired, some genuine.

“Great work. Really,” Dokyeom nodded with a bright smile, even applauding towards the crew who were crouched behind the lights.

“But since you all came in a hurry, these outfits are the same from 24 hours ago,” PD Na continued, gesturing towards their wrinkled hoodies, jacket, travel-worn and caps.

“Yes, that’s right,” the members groaned, voices overlapping.

“But you have money,” PD Na reminded, lifting a finger. “Pocket money. Which, Dino is in charge of.”

The entire group twisted to look at the youngest member.

“If you ask Dino and he say yes, you can buy it,” PD Na clarified.

“It’s only if I say okay?” Dino blinked, taken aback by the sudden responsibility.

“Only when he says yes?” Luna repeated, chuckling with amusement.

[ONLY]

“But you know you’re a really cool manager, right?” Dokyeom piped in immediately, putting on his most sincere expression as his eyes flicked toward Dino.

“You know it’s cool if you’re not too strict, right?” Dokyeom added, laying it on thick now with exaggerated charm that made the room burst into laughter.

[Sucking up already]

“Okay. I will try,” Dino replied with a laugh, shaking his head at how quickly things were turning against him.

[Dino the cool manager]

“Anyway,” PD Na continued, tapping the mysterious bag, “you can buy things from tomorrow.”

He waited a beat for it to sink in.

“But you need toothpaste, toothbrush and underwear right now. It’s also nice if you have clothes to change into.”

“Yes. That would be nice,” Dokyeom nodded solemnly, echoed by groans and hums of agreement from the others.

“That’s why we are going to open a very generous tax-free shop today,” PD Na announced, hands spread wide like a game show host.

[Key word: Generous]

“Why does it feel like we are at a disadvantage? It felt like we are just going to…” Woozi began suspiciously, trailing off before pointing directly at PD Na. “His eyes are weird. I told you this before.”

[PD Na’s eyes scare Woozi]

The room erupted into laughter again.

“He looks like someone who always sells this,” Dokyeom chuckled, motioning to the suspiciously neat little bag.

“Right?” Luna muttered as she rested her head sideways on Dokyeom’s shoulder, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “He’s too eager to let us play.”

The game hadn’t even started yet, but the members could already feel the subtle chaos brimming beneath PD Na’s “generous” tax-free smile.

The moment PD Na let out a chuckle and announced, “First off, I am going to show you this product,” the members instinctively leaned forward, all eyes locked on the modest-looking luggage bag on the table. As the cameras zoomed in, he unzipped the top flap and reached inside with a dramatic pause like he was unveiling the Holy Grail.

“This one,” PD Na said, pulling out what appeared to be a stack of neatly folded clothes.

[Clothes]

The table shook slightly as he placed the bundle in the center, and immediately, the members swarmed in like seagulls spotting a bag of chips. Hands reached forward from all directions, curious fingers grazing the fabric as their chatter began to rise in volume.

“I will open it,” Mingyu volunteered, already unfolding the first white shirt from the pile.

“Oooh, it’s cute,” Woozi commented beside him, his eyes narrowing as he inspected the design.

[NANA Tour shirts]

“T-shirt name is Woozi,” Mingyu declared, holding it up for everyone to see. Across the chest of the shirt was the familiar Nana Tour design, but now, personalized with Woozi’s name in stylized font— along with a tiny dumbbell icon printed subtly in the corner.

[Personalized t-shirts for each member]

“Wah, it’s pretty,” Luna lifted her head off Dokyeom’s shoulder, momentarily shaking off her sleepiness as she reached for another shirt and unfolded it. Her eyes found Dino’s name on the tag. “I guess these are custom-made.”

Dino leaned closer to check. “They are.”

“These are custom shirts and shorts for each of you,” PD Na explained, gesturing proudly. “If you look at the picture, there are different parts for each member.”

“What part?” Luna asked, her voice still slightly drowsy as her eyes scanned the shirt in her hand.

“There, look— dumbbell,” Dokyeom pointed at Woozi’s again. “Exercise. Woozi who likes working out.”

PD Na, energized by their interest, dove right back into the bag. “Underwear,” he declared.

“There’s kimchi…” he added, pulling out a sealed container with a grin.

“Aigo!” Hoshi suddenly stood from his seat, arms flung wide in excitement, like a contestant on a cooking show who just saw beef rib stew.

[The most excited he’d been]

The rest of the members burst out laughing at his dramatic reaction, already used to Hoshi’s deep, emotional bond with fermented cabbage.

PD Na then reached for two tiny objects nestled at the bottom of the bag. “Are you not going to work out?” he said, holding two small dumbbells up. They clinked slightly in his hands as he raised them.

[It’s cute]

“You need to work out. You need to work out,” Jeonghan parroted his words in a rhythm, chuckling at the tiny weights, his sarcasm landing just right as the members burst into laughter again.

“It’s so cute,” Luna laughed as she leaned in to inspect the dumbbells.

“3kg,” Hoshi observed, still smiling, though his eyes gleamed like he was already planning to do curls between meals.

PD Na continued pulling out items like a magician with an endless hat: “Cup ramyeon, shampoo, guidebook, zipper bag, fans, wet tissue, gochujang, toothbrush, toothpaste, earphones.”

[Guide Na has prepared everything for SEVENTEEN]

Each item was followed by murmurs of approval or gasps of glee, some members reaching out to claim their favorites as if they were contestants in a supermarket sweep.

And then finally, he slowed. His hand hovered above the final item. He turned, a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked squarely at Jeonghan.

“Jeonghan, you really need this. You’re going to cry,” PD Na said, holding his expression like a punchline waiting to hit.

[The vice-leader will cry apparently]

Jeonghan’s eyes lit up in anticipation. He sat straighter, already smiling.

“For all of you, filled with his heart…” PD Na continued with a hint of drama, “S.Coups’ letter.” He pulled out a pristine envelope, the handwriting unmistakable.

As soon as the name was said, Jeonghan burst into exaggerated wails, hands coming up to furiously rub his eyes like a cartoon character bawling. “WAHHH!” he cried, his voice booming theatrically as he slumped forward on the table, drawing roaring laughter from the rest of the group.

[Seems excessive]

Luna perked up at the name, suddenly wide awake, her eyes zoning in on the envelope like a hawk.

[She realized something]

“We need to win the letter,” she said with fierce determination.

“That’s the one,” she added with a firm nod, causing several heads to turn toward her in confusion.

[The most important letter]

“Why?” PD Na blinked, surprised by her intensity.

“Coupsie told me about a letter before we left,” Luna explained.

[He did]

The room shifted. Even Jeonghan paused mid-fake-sob to glance at her, blinking with curiosity.

“Really?” PD Na asked again, genuinely intrigued.

“Mhm. He told me he wrote a letter and to choose it,” Luna said nonchalantly, as if she wasn’t about to start a civil war over a piece of paper.

[Actually looks like she would choose the letter over everything else]

“I had no idea what he was talking about, but he made it sound so important,” she shrugged.

“Nothing gets past you, huh?” PD Na chuckled, narrowing his eyes at her playfully.

“I’m the favorite, that’s why,” Luna said sweetly, her voice a sing-song as she smiled innocently at PD Na, drawing loud reactions from the group.

[Self-proclaimed favorite of the leader]

“What do we do to get them?” Dokyeom leaned in, already on edge.

“I don’t know,” Jeonghan shook his head, clearly wary.

“Isn’t it the person quiz again?” Jun cautiously asked, his voice lined with mild trauma.

“Please no,” Luna groaned immediately, sinking back into her seat. Jeonghan chuckled at her timing, nudging her side with his elbow in amusement.

[Trauma as its finest]

PD Na raised a hand, commanding attention. “This is a very beneficial game for you,” he said cryptically.

“Beneficial?” Seungkwan repeated, suspiciously.

“Beneficial? Game?” Dokyeom echoed, frowning.

“The category is so easy,” PD Na reassured them. “Human Zero.”

[First recreational game of the trip: Human Zero]

PD Na cleared his throat, already grinning at the mental image of what was to come.

“Okay, listen carefully,” PD Na said, hands behind his back like a teacher about to deliver a pop quiz. “This game is called Human Zero.”

The members blinked at him, processing the name with slight wariness.

“I will say a number,” PD Na began, raising a finger for dramatic emphasis. “And you— all of you— will have to decide whether to stand up or stay seated.”

The members nodded slowly, still unsure of the twist.

“But the goal,” he continued, pausing for effect, “is for the number of people who stand… to be different from the number I called out.”

[SEVENTEEN will have to defend]

There was a moment of silence, then a series of scattered “Ahh”s as the realization sank in.

“So, if I say ‘four’ and four people stand up, that’s a fail,” PD Na clarified, grinning wider now. “If I say ‘two’ and one or three or five people stand up— success.”

“Every time you defend it, you take one product,” he added, pointing toward the pile of desirable dorm essentials beside him.

“So, we just need to not get caught every time, right?” Jeonghan clarified, eyes narrowed like he was already calculating probabilities in his head.

[Already looking for loopholes]

“Don’t get caught,” PD Na confirmed with a firm nod.

“We can’t get caught?” Vernon echoed, squinting suspiciously like the rules had a hidden trick.

“It’s really easy,” Mingyu said confidently, arms folded like he’d already won the game in his mind.

“Is this something we can try again if we fail?” Jeonghan asked, still looking wary, his tone playful but probing.

[Nope]

“There’s only one try,” PD Na replied.

“One try?” Luna and Dokyeom echoed in perfect unison, heads whipping toward PD Na in disbelief.

“Isn’t it easy for us?” Dokyeom asked, eyebrows raised as he looked around at the members, trying to gather confidence.

“This is so easy,” Mingyu said again, waving his hand as if brushing off the challenge.

“It’s probability or luck,” Luna commented, tapping the table with a thoughtful expression.

“We are really at an advantage,” Seungkwan added, confidence practically oozing out of his pores. “We are going to sleep luxuriously if we withstand it five times.”

“We can do this,” Dokyeom said, hyping himself up as he rolled his shoulders.

“But PD is good, too,” Mingyu acknowledged with a knowing nod in PD Na’s direction, causing the older man to chuckle proudly.

[Scary PD]

“No, we can do this…” Luna said, her voice trailing with a slight dramatic edge before continuing, “we have to or else…”

“Or else what?” PD Na asked, clearly amused by her sudden drop in tone.

“Or else I might lose my mind. I need to shower,” Luna deadpanned, face serious but her voice cracking slightly with suppressed laughter.

[She cannot live like this]

The members all burst out in chuckles, nodding in agreement. Some even dramatically sniffed themselves for comedic effect.

“The level is always high,” Woozi muttered, referring to PD Na, shaking his head with a resigned smile.

“We can do it,” Jeonghan nodded solemnly, trying to rally the group.

“We can’t fool around,” Mingyu added with a stern expression, though the corners of his mouth betrayed the urge to smile.

[They are serious when it comes to games]

“Okay, should we go?” PD Na asked, shuffling on the floor where he is seated like a game master starting the first round.

“Stick out your butt a bit and get ready to stand up,” PD Na instructed, his words so sudden and silly that half the group broke into laughter while instinctively scooting to the edge of their seats.

[Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle]

“I’m nervous,” Seungkwan admitted, shifting in place, his knees bouncing.

“Just decide in your heart right away now,” PD Na advised, his tone mock-serious.

“Okay! Professional,” Hoshi declared with his usual flair, straightening his back like he was preparing for Olympic-level squats.

“Is the tail section okay? Did you understand?” PD Na called out toward the end of the long table.

[People in the back]

“Yes, of course,” Wonwoo answered calmly, always the reliable one.

“I’m getting nervous for no reason,” Joshua muttered, letting out a light laugh as he adjusted his posture, tension slowly building.

The stage was set. The trap was ready. And so was the chaos.

[Round 1]

The members sat on the very edge of their seats, backs straight, thighs hovering just above cushion as if they were in a silent game of musical chairs. Nobody moved. The only sound in the room was the distant hum of studio lights and the creak of someone’s leather shoe shifting. Then—

“One, two, three… four!” PD Na suddenly shouted with a mischievous grin.

Instantly, three bodies sprang to their feet— Mingyu, Dino, and Joshua. The rest of the group whipped their heads up at the sight, eyes wide in a silent gasp before the entire room erupted in chaos.

[+1 point]

“Waaaaaaaahhhhhh!” The table collectively gasped in a mix of shock and exhilaration.

“I was going to stand up! I was thinking about standing up!” Seungkwan burst out, dramatically placing a hand on his chest as if he just dodged death.

[That was close]

“Wooooooowwww!” Dokyeom exclaimed at the top of his lungs, voice bouncing off the walls like a stadium announcer.

“Good job!” Luna chuckled from her seat, grinning at the three who managed to unintentionally sync their instincts perfectly.

“That was close,” Dokyeom added, still shaking his head as they all sat back down, the energy still pulsing like electricity through the table.

[Round 2]

“Okay, I’m going,” PD Na said coolly, barely giving them a chance to recover as he stepped forward again, already queuing the second round.

“One, two, three… four!” he called out again, same exact number, but this time, a different set of legs shot up —Vernon, Seungkwan, Dokyeom, and Hoshi.

[4?]

The moment their knees locked and they stood at full height, a wave of horror and disbelief swept across the rest of the team.

“No… wait…” Luna said, her voice quiet but urgent as her eyes darted around the table— until she spotted him.

“Oppa! Good job!” she shouted, pointing.

[+1 point]

[They didn’t see Woozi]

At the same exact moment, every head turned to the far end of the table.

Woozi stood quietly at the edge, almost blending into the background with his small frame, but unmistakably upright— unmoving, like a statue holding up a peace sign.

[Peekaboo]

“WOOZI!” Hoshi and Dokyeom shouted in stereo, their faces breaking into wide, open-mouthed grins as they reached across the table for a triumphant high five.

“I almost thought of a lie just then,” Luna whispered to Jeonghan, her voice low but her shoulders shaking with restrained laughter.

“Me too,” Jeonghan replied, biting back a grin as he chuckled softly, nodding.

[What are we going to do about them?]

They both exchanged a glance— a shared wavelength of panic and mischief— before Luna couldn’t hold it in anymore and broke into a louder laugh. Jeonghan followed, the two of them giggling quietly to themselves while the others celebrated, both amused at how quickly their minds had gone to “What if we fake it?”

[PD Na’s headache personified]

“I was in a dilemma after I got up,” Dokyeom announced dramatically, hands thrown up in amazed relief.

“Okay, we succeeded twice,” Minghao calmly pointed out as the table buzzed again with satisfied nods and excited chatter.

[Round 3]

The energy never had a chance to dip before PD Na struck again. “One, two, three… four!” he called, sticking to the same number a third time.

[Again]

Like dominoes, the entire right side of the table rose— Luna, Dokyeom, Joshua, Seungkwan, Minghao, and Vernon.

[That’s 6!]

[+1]

All eyes immediately started darting. The air was so silent, you could practically hear the wind from their blinking.

The members, still seated, started silently counting, heads swiveling like a slow motion wave as they tracked each standing person.

“…One, two, three, four, five… six!” Dino muttered before the dam broke.

“It’s six! Six! Six! Six!” Dokyeom clarified to PD Na excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he was ready to lift off.

[I think it’s six…]

“I wasn’t going to stand,” Luna and Joshua said at the same time.

[They would have lost]

The group turned to look at the two, their timing eerily identical. For a beat, there was silence —and then laughter burst out again.

“Good job!” Jun said encouragingly, nodding at both of them with a relieved smile.

“This line. This line stood up at once,” Joshua explained as they sat back down, gesturing to the entire right wing of the table.

“That’s a relief,” Dokyeom said, slumping back into his seat with a dramatic sigh.

“PD-nim, is four your favorite number?” Luna asked, tilting her head innocently as she looked at PD Na.

[Caught on his tricks]

The room erupted again— laughter spilling over the edges as the members chuckled at her completely genuine question.

“I think that it keeps on going back and forth from four to six people,” PD Na answered with a laugh, clearly amused by how the game was unfolding. “There are no more than six and no less than three.”

“Eyy! Let’s make it interesting and start calling out double digits,” Luna provoked, leaning back comfortably in her seat with a raised brow.

[Starts provoking him]

The guys pointed at her immediately, a chorus of “Ooooooooh!” echoing like a group of middle schoolers hyping up a dare.

“This is also a psychological game,” Jeonghan smirked, voice cool as he leaned slightly toward Luna, clearly ready for war.

“Call out a higher number,” Luna added, still smirking directly at PD Na with a teasing glint in her eyes.

[She likes to dare Guide Na]

“Noona, you’re scary,” Seungkwan said, shaking his head with wide eyes as he leaned slightly away from her in mock fear.

“Our Jiyeonie is a psychology graduate,” Wonwoo informed PD Na casually, glancing sideways at Luna.

[That’s why]

“Really?” PD Na asked, visibly intrigued now as he looked over to her and the rest of his crew leaned forward slightly.

“Yes,” Luna smiled, nodding proudly.

“Jiyeonie is good with probability. She’s lucky like that,” Jeonghan informed them, his tone oddly proud for someone usually so playful.

[Proud]

“She’s a psychic,” Woozi teased, earning snickers from a few members.

“She’s also…” Seungkwan said, trailing off.

“A psycho,” he and Luna said in unison, immediately high-fiving each other as everyone burst into loud laughter.

“She might look like that— all pretty and innocent, but she’s crazy,” Seungkwan added in an exaggerated tone, leaning back and laughing at his own line as Luna giggled harder.

[She has matching crazy eyes with PD Na]

“Okay! I can analyze people too!” PD Na declared with determination, accepting the challenge as the members whooped and clapped around him.

“Or are we going by probability?” Seungkwan asked, lifting an eyebrow and gesturing toward PD Na like he was interrogating a game show contestant.

“It’s vague. So Minghao has no thoughts of standing up,” PD Na began, suddenly scanning the group like a detective on the case.

“Jun has no thoughts of standing up either,” he added, pointing at Jun who blinked back, caught off guard.

“Wonwoo has no thoughts,” PD Na continued, making the others laugh as Wonwoo chuckled shyly and looked away.

“These two…” PD Na pointed at Luna and Jeonghan, sitting side by side like a scheming duo, “…scare me.”

[Bunnies scare PD Na]

[Rightfully so]

The members broke into another fit of laughter, hands slapping the table, some even leaning into each other as they laughed.

The room buzzed with a low hum of laughter and excitement, but before they could fully dive into another round, one of the producers looked toward Hoshi with a mischievous grin.

“Hoshi, what number should we go with next time?” the producer asked, almost teasing.

Hoshi paused, visibly shifting in his seat as he gave the question some serious thought. He squinted a little, brows furrowed, lips pursed, clearly trying to visualize potential combinations in his head. The members leaned closer, anticipating his answer like he was about to solve a math equation that would decide the fate of the nation.

[Serious]

“…Five,” Hoshi finally said, as if he were declaring a lottery number. The members laughed, nodding in agreement.

With that, the atmosphere shifted with renewed energy. Round four was about to begin.

[Round 4]

PD Na straightened up, cleared his throat dramatically, and with a teasing lilt in his voice, he began to count.

“One, two, three… six!”

Chaos exploded the moment the number left his lips. Jeonghan shot up from his seat, followed almost instantly by Dokyeom, Seungkwan, Vernon, Wonwoo, Jun, and Dino— seven in total. The room erupted with gasps and half-shouts as realization hit everyone.

“That’s seven!” Joshua called out with a wide grin.

[+1 point]

“We win again!” Mingyu hollered.

“Good job!” Jun clapped with a proud smile as they all sat back down, visibly impressed with themselves.

“Oh… this is so hard,” PD Na sighed dramatically, half-laughing, half-exasperated as he shook his head.

[Sigh]

“Do you want all of us to stand up?” Mingyu asked, his voice light but filled with mischief.

“Teamwork. We need to show our teamwork,” Dino said seriously, straightening up.

[Plotting]

“We will all stand up,” Mingyu promised PD Na with mock determination.

“Yes, we will,” Luna added, nodding firmly like they were plotting something righteous.

“We will all stand up right now,” Jeonghan added, his voice cool and casual— like a bait laid out with perfect confidence.

“We will all stand up. All thirteen,” Dokyeom echoed with a sly grin.

“I will stand up,” Mingyu declared with a proud hand on his chest.

“I will also stand up,” Woozi chimed in, voice perfectly deadpan.

“Me too,” Luna joined in, a grin pulling at her lips.

“I will also stand up,” Jeonghan added again, more casually this time, like he was really just warming up.

[What are they planning?]

Suddenly, the room exploded into noise.

“I will stand up!”

“Me too!”

“I’m going to stand up!”

“I’m standing, I’m standing!”

[All for one and one for all]

It was a chaotic chorus— everyone talking over each other, voices layered in disarray as the members simultaneously declared their intentions. Their expressions were all over the place: some deadly serious, others grinning like devils, and a few who clearly couldn’t keep a straight face anymore.

PD Na blinked at them, overwhelmed, trying to keep up with what was happening.

[Confused]

“Dino?” PD Na asked, trying to single out the youngest for some clarity.

“We need to stand up. All of us,” Dino replied solemnly, like it was their final mission.

“Hoshi?” PD Na tried again.

“Me too. I will also stand up,” Hoshi said immediately with an overly enthusiastic nod.

“Minghao, are you going to stand up?” PD Na asked, hopeful.

“I am not standing up,” Minghao said bluntly and honestly, without hesitation.

[Honest]

Laughter broke out around the table.

“You’re so cute,” Luna chuckled as she looked at Minghao fondly.

“That was honest,” Mingyu said with a nod of approval.

“So honest,” Dokyeom added, grinning as he pointed.

“I will just be standing up,” Jeonghan said suddenly, and to prove it, he simply stood up, locking eyes with PD Na with a bold, unfazed stare.

[Has the upper hand all of a sudden]

The members went, “Ohhh!” in unison like it was a mic drop.

Luna smirked at him knowingly.

“Then, I will be half standing up,” Dokyeom announced and mimicked sitting on air, awkwardly half-standing, half-squatting with a strained expression. “I can go like this,” he demonstrated further, bobbing up and down as if testing out different levels, and looked at PD Na as if expecting him to judge. “I can decide like that.”

[Lack of sleep makes then react like this]

PD Na burst into laughter, holding his cue cards like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Okay. It might be the last round. It might be the last game. At once. It’s over when you decide,” PD Na said dramatically, like the game show host of an epic finale.

“Okay!” Hoshi responded, voice full of fake resolve.

“People who want to sit can sit, and stand if you want,” PD Na declared, throwing in the towel and surrendering the rules to the chaos.

Round five began.

[Round 5]

“I think three people are going to stand up,” Mingyu muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the group.

Then came the count.

“One, two, three… thirteen!” PD Na shouted boldly.

Immediately, Jeonghan remained standing where he had been the whole time, completely unfazed. Dokyeom, who had been doing his squatting act, finally sat down. Wonwoo and Hoshi suddenly popped up on their feet.

[3!]

That made three.

The room broke into cheers and laughs again.

They won. Again. Another point in the bag.

[+1 point]

“I got it right! I was right!” Mingyu celebrated proudly.

“‘Thirteen!’” Dokyeom teased PD Na with a laugh, mimicking him with wide eyes.

[DK found PD Na amusing]

“You guys have no faith at all! You’re going to go like this?” PD Na exclaimed, laughing helplessly while throwing his hands in the air.

[Got tricked]

“His expression is so funny,” Dokyeom laughed harder, barely breathing as he clutched his stomach.

“There’s no honesty at all,” PD Na said, slumping into his chair. He had completely fallen for their tricks and he knew it.

Luna, still chuckling, reached over and gently grabbed Jeonghan’s arm before hugging it close. Her eyes were visibly drooping now as her cheek found a home on his shoulder, an amused smile on her lips despite clearly fighting off sleep.

[About to nod off again]

“You should have known we weren’t being serious,” Luna said sleepily, voice muffled against Jeonghan’s sleeve.

Jeonghan glanced at her briefly, then addressed PD Na with a sharpness that made everyone laugh again.

“I think we are going to win anyway, so let’s just have us take everything and end this. Let’s hurry and go to sleep,” Jeonghan said at lightning speed, his voice dead serious, his tone devoid of any playfulness.

[Serious]

It made Luna giggle again, her face still nestled in his arm.

“I really don’t think we’re going to lose,” Dokyeom agreed with a dreamy sigh.

“We think it’s a meaningless game when you guys are all tired,” Mingyu added, glancing toward the production team with an almost diplomatic shrug.

“No. We’re not tired at all,” PD Na insisted, quickly trying to recover his pride before continuing, “We can do this all night long.”

[What?]

The members burst into laughter.

“Ah… ah… okay…” Mingyu said in disbelief, chuckling in defeat.

PD Na’s gaze slowly drifted toward Luna again— she was still hugging Jeonghan’s arm like a pillow, eyes half-lidded.

“Right, Luna-ya?” PD Na teased her gently.

The members chuckled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Luna deadpanned, not even looking at him, instead burying her face deeper into Jeonghan’s arm like a defiant cat refusing to acknowledge anything.

[Out of sight, out of mind]

“His eyes are definitely turned around,” Seungkwan muttered, looking at PD Na with mock pity.

“They are really no joke,” Woozi added, voice laced with playful concern.

“I’m okay,” PD Na said quickly, trying to sound unbothered— though it was clear by now, he had completely lost control of the game and is trying to get it back.

[SEVENTEEN succeeded in defending 5 items]

[Earned 5/16 prizes]

Round after round, the members of SEVENTEEN showed no signs of letting up. Even after securing five out of the sixteen prizes— already more than generous for a single segment— they were gripped by an absurd, collective determination to sweep everything. Their energy had shifted into something almost mechanical now: focused, chaotic, relentless. They were aiming for a clean sweep.

[And the game continues]

As the game clock ticked forward and the members rallied, it became obvious they were entering a whole new phase— speed round mode.

Round Six was on. No pause, no banter, just action.

[Round 6]

“One, two, three… four!” PD Na counted quickly, barely giving the boys time to breathe.

Jeonghan and Jun stood up with the coordination of synchronized swimmersperfectly timed, effortless. Another point. The room filled with the clatter of applause and soft clapping, some even chuckling at the sheer absurdity of how seamless it had all become.

[+1 point]

“Let’s speed through this,” Luna challenged, her voice soft but edged with that cheeky competitiveness she and Jeonghan always brought out of each other.

Without a single beat of hesitation, PD Na dove right into the next count.

[Round 7]

“One, two, three… five!” he called out.

As if summoned by a secret code, Jeonghan, Luna, and Woozi rose to their feet in perfect unison. The moment their backs straightened, it was already another point. The trio sat back down almost immediately, no celebration needed.

[+1 point]

“Okay! Good,” Dino chimed in, the momentum now completely unstoppable.

No time to waste— Round Eight was already in motion.

[Round 8]

“One, two, three… eleven!” PD Na exclaimed, tossing out a much larger number.

But Hoshi, Dokyeom, and Joshua were already rising from their seats like seasoned veterans. Another point. It was automatic at this point.

[+1 point]

“Okay!” Luna cheered again, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips as her body started betraying her— sleepiness creeping in, eyes half-lidded.

[Excited + Sleepy = Luna]

Before Round Nine began, Mingyu leaned forward and spoke up with a grin, “Let’s just stay seated.”

“Just stay seated,” Dokyeom echoed, his excitement uncontainable.

“We are zero now,” Jeonghan deadpanned to PD Na, as if declaring a tactical reset.

“Zero!” Dokyeom chimed again, grinning from ear to ear.

[Plotting once more]

Luna couldn’t hold back her chuckle. They were lying through their teeth and everyone knew it, but that was part of the fun. They were so obviously up to something.

“Really,” Mingyu added, eyes wide in feigned innocence.

“Really zero?” PD Na raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

“Yes,” the band chorused, entirely unabashed.

Then came Round Nine.

[Round 9]

“One, two, three… six!” PD Na exclaimed once more.

Mingyu, Vernon, and Dokyeom— who, notably, stood up while swaying his hips like he was performing a solo stage— rose from their seats, winning yet another point.

[+1 point]

Laughter exploded from the members as Dokyeom continued dancing. It was less of a stand and more of a performance.

“He doesn’t believe us,” Mingyu said with a mock pout, gesturing to PD Na.

[Trust issues everywhere]

“Weren’t we doing this in trust?” PD Na asked, exasperated, drawing even more laughter from the group.

[Apparently not]

“But isn’t that nine items now?” Jeonghan casually brought up, his voice laced with faux innocence.

“No. This is all separate,” PD Na snapped back quickly, now scrambling to break down the items into even more individual components, clearly trying to make it harder for them.

“Of course it is,” Luna said dryly, her tone matching the absurdity in the room.

“Suddenly? Suddenly like this?” Dokyeom gasped between laughs.

“No, let’s do this until we can. If we don’t have any products, we will make them and give them to you,” PD Na offered, waving his hand as staff members added chargers to the table like a desperate bribe.

[Suddenly have chargers]

“They have it. They have chargers,” Jeonghan noted, eyeing the prize pile suspiciously.

“They have it. Okay, okay,” Dokyeom nodded eagerly, ready to play along.

Round Ten began.

[Round 10]

“I will start. One, two, three… six!” PD Na declared.

Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Dokyeom, and Vernon stood up with zero hesitation. Point. They sat down like clockwork.

[+1 point]

“Okay, we will go right away,” Jeonghan said, not even giving them time to exhale before charging into the next round.

[Round 11]

“One, two, three… three!” PD Na said for Round Eleven.

This time, it was chaos—Jeonghan, Luna, Wonwoo, Woozi, Hoshi, Minghao, and Seungkwan stood up all at once. Seven in total. Another win.

[+1 point]

“We will go right away,” Jeonghan repeated like a robot, voice unwavering, already preparing for Round Twelve.

[Round 12]

“One, two, three… five!” PD Na announced.

Jeonghan, Dokyeom, Joshua, Vernon, Mingyu, Jun, Wonwoo, and Dino— eight members— stood up. Point. It was their twelfth now.

[+1 point]

They didn’t even cheer anymore— it was routine.

PD Na went straight to Round Thirteen.

[Round 13]

“One, two, three… seven!” he called out.

Dino, Wonwoo, Hoshi, Minghao, and Luna rose, precise and fluid like soldiers. Point thirteen. They were getting dangerously close.

[+1 point]

“We will go right away,” Jeonghan prompted again, and everyone obeyed.

[Round 14]

“One, two, three… six!” PD Na announced again.

Jeonghan, Joshua, Dino, Wonwoo, and Vernon popped up. Point fourteen. It was becoming ridiculous.

[+1 point]

“Shouldn’t you just give us the entire bag at this point?” Luna asked, deadpan, her eyes half-closed with exhaustion but her voice laced with sarcasm.

[At this point? Yes.]

The room broke into laughter.

“Oh… why?” PD Na sighed, nearly whining in defeat.

“Wait, it’s fourteen right now?” Jeonghan asked as if he hadn’t been keeping track all along, his poker face firmly in place.

Then, Round Fifteen.

[Round 15]

“One, two, three… five!” PD Na said.

Seungkwan and Woozi stood up like clockwork. Another point.

[+1 point]

“What could you do?~ What could you do?~” Luna teased in a sing-song voice, shaking her head and laughing as she formed a heart with her hands toward PD Na.

[Loves teasing PD Na the absolute most]

“That’s fifteen,” Jeonghan reminded PD Na, his smile devious and eyes twinkling with amusement.

[15/16]

“Okay, fifteen!” Luna repeated, smug.

PD Na stared at the two of them in a state of resigned defeat, scoffing dramatically.

“We will stop here and give them everything,” he declared, hands in the air, drawing a round of thunderous applause, cheers, and laughter from the entire room.

[Gave up]

[He lost everything]

“I cannot with you two!” PD Na pointed an accusatory finger at Luna and Jeonghan, his tone torn between exasperation and laughter.

“I knew it from the airport when you two disappeared…” he muttered, voice trailing into a full-blown rant while Luna and Jeonghan laughed the hardest they had all night —bodies doubled over, eyes squeezed shut.

[The bunnies have given PD Na a hard time]

“I knew you two will cause me trouble,” PD Na sighed as if prophesying doom from the very beginning.

The members were in hysterics, clapping, laughing, hooting, and hollering at the sheer absurdity and genius of it all. PD Na had been outplayed. Again.

Mingyu, stretched out on his seat with his hands intertwined in front of him on the table, looked around at the team, then turned to PD Na with a cheeky grin.

“Then, should we end it now?” he asked, voice playful but low with finality. The members hummed in agreement, some nodding lazily, others blinking in confusion.

Mingyu turned to PD Na, raising a brow and tilting his head slightly as he made the request, “Can you say ‘one’?”

[Ending with a win for PD Na]

PD Na blinked, caught off guard by the oddly specific request. “Okay. If I say ‘one’…” he started cautiously before Mingyu smoothly turned his attention to the next target.

“Minghao, do you want to stand up by yourself and end it?”

“Ending it?” Minghao echoed, a little baffled by the theatrics, but he nodded all the same. He adjusted his posture and gave a small nod of consent, a quiet agreement to be the game’s symbolic finale.

[Cutely agrees]

“Thank you, guys,” PD Na said sincerely, already laughing as he realized they were staging a faux ending win just to feed his dignity. “Only Minghao. We will only have Minghao stand up.”

“Okay!” Luna agreed brightly, lifting her hand with exaggerated enthusiasm.

[They are too excited]

The room stilled. The silence, for once, was heavy with anticipation and barely-contained laughter. PD Na, playing along with the final moment, raised his hand.

“One, two, three… one!” PD Na announced, and in perfect comedic betrayal, not only did Minghao stand— but Jeonghan and Luna popped up beside him like synchronized traitors.

[Bunny rabbits hop… hop…hop]

The room exploded.

“AHAHAHAHAHA!” The members screamed in disbelief, clapping and howling with laughter. Hands smacked the table, people leaned over, Dokyeom even rolled off the side of his chair from laughing too hard. Dino pointed dramatically at Jeonghan and Luna like he’d just caught criminals red-handed.

[Betrayal at its finest]

PD Na chuckled as he stared at the two, speechless. His jaw dropped open in mock betrayal.

[Trust issues]

“Your eyes were already looking at us like…” Mingyu started, turning to face PD Na. He squinted his eyes dramatically, lips pursed, copying the very expression of suspicion PD Na had worn seconds before.

Dokyeom immediately jumped in with an impression of his own, his voice pitched and eyes wide, mimicking PD Na with exaggerated panic. “‘Why is Minghao the only one standing up?’” he mimicked, sending the room into another spiral of laughter.

[They knew]

“Just take all of this,” PD Na said with mock defeat, waving a hand at the mound of prizes.

[SEVENTEEN won]

Still smiling despite the betrayal, he reached down and picked up the final envelope— the one marked with S.Coups’ name. With a sigh, he handed it to Jeonghan. “Let’s look at S.Coups’ letter at least,” he said, voice a touch gentler.

[The letter their leader wrote before they got kidnapped]

Jeonghan took the envelope, brow arching with curiosity as he tore the flap open. Luna immediately scooted closer, peeking over his arm with interest. Her eyes widened.

[What is it?]

“Oh?” Luna said, blinking in realization. “That’s why he was so adamant we get the letter.” She smiled, suddenly touched.

“Why?” Dino asked from the other side of the table, voice curious as the rest of the members close leaned in, trying to get a better look.

“It’s not only a letter,” Luna revealed cryptically.

“Oh!” Dokyeom exclaimed, leaning forward just in time to catch a glint of black from Jeonghan’s hand.

“Wah!” Jeonghan drawled, lips curling upward as he slowly slid the object out from behind the paper.

“It’s not a letter,” Dokyeom gasped, blinking rapidly.

“What?” Hoshi squinted, still too far to make sense of the reactions.

“There’s a card,” Jeonghan said, holding it up triumphantly. Gasps erupted around the room like fireworks.

[S.Coups’ personal card]

“Wow! Awesome!” Dokyeom yelled.

Jeonghan cleared his throat and began to read aloud: “‘Thank you for picking my letter. I feel sorry for you guys going without any preparation. I will be waiting for you well in Korea. You can use this card however you want, okay? Have fun. I love you.’”

“Wah!” Several of the members sighed at once, impressed.

“I miss Cheollie,” Luna pouted, her voice small and genuine, the sudden shift in emotion hitting her like a wave. Her bottom lip jutted out as she stared at the card.

[Sad bunny]

“Wow, that’s so touching,” Wonwoo said softly, as the room broke into soft claps.

“It’s really Coups’ personal card,” Dokyeom said, holding the card reverently between his fingers.

“Personal card?” Woozi asked, peering over his shoulder in amazement.

“It is,” Luna confirmed, nodding at the familiar design. “That’s the one he uses.”

“Wah!” Mingyu echoed, eyes wide.

“Choi Seungcheol did some work,” Woozi said, impressed despite himself.

“Awesome,” Dino added, nodding.

“He said that we can use it whenever we need to,” Jeonghan added with a small smile, handing the card over to Dino.

[Their generous leader]

Without hesitation, Dino took it and tucked it carefully into the small money pouch he’d been given earlier. As the group’s unofficial trip treasurer, he knew the weight of that gesture.

“Manager, you should take care of this too,” Woozi said with a pointed look, his voice teasing but firm.

“He’s awesome… I can buy clothes now,” Luna deadpanned suddenly, earning a wave of laughter from the others.

[Spoiler: she is being serious]

“Me too,” Jeonghan said immediately, looking dead serious.

“Look at these two,” PD Na interjected, pointing directly at the duo. “As if you two didn’t bring your own cards.”

[Oops]

Jeonghan chuckled shamelessly, leaning back into his seat.

Luna quickly turned away, hand flying to her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“It was an accident,” the two chorused without missing a beat.

[Sure…]

PD Na and the rest of the members chuckled, shaking their heads.

“Alright! Since it’s late, hurry up and wash up. Change into these clothes and let’s rest well. We are done for the day,” PD Na announced, clapping his hands together like a tired parent declaring bedtime.

[Finally!]

A chorus of “Thank you!” and “Great work!” echoed across the room as PD Na and the production crew began packing up the equipment and quietly filtering out, leaving the members to breathe easy again in the now much quieter dorm.

The prize pile sat triumphantly on the table like a monument to their chaotic victory. And SEVENTEEN, still grinning from ear to ear, began preparing for their long-awaited rest.

Once the last of the staff and camera crew filed out of the dorm with soft goodbyes and a final “Great work, everyone!” from PD Na echoing down the hallway, Seventeen was finally left to their own devices. It was a rare kind of peace— fleeting and chaotic all at once.

[Time to wash up]

Jeonghan, as if clocking back in for his second job as unofficial dorm dad, immediately took it upon himself to organize. A pile of white Nana Tour shirts and matching black shorts sat in a heap beside him. He crouched, peeled one shirt from the pile, squinted at the name printed in bold on the tag, and began his announcements.

“Seungkwan,” he read aloud, holding up the shirt like it was a prize at a raffle.

“Seungkwan here,” Seungkwan said, perking up from where he was, shuffling over to claim it.

Jeonghan continued, eyes scanning the next one. “The8.”

Minghao raised a hand. “Thank you,” he said calmly as he accepted his shirt.

“Vernon,” Jeonghan called next.

“Got it,” Vernon replied as he spotted his own name and snatched the shirt himself with a grin.

“Mingyu,” Luna chimed in, holding the correct shirt out toward him without looking up.

“Thank you,” Mingyu said, bowing his head slightly as he received it.

“This is Jeonghan,” Jeonghan said smugly, pulling his own shirt close to his chest like a proud mom choosing her outfit for a parent-teacher conference.

“Luna,” Jeonghan said next, tossing her shirt gently into her awaiting hands.

“Thank you,” Luna replied, already inspecting the print.

Around them, the rest of the members had started rummaging through the neatly sorted shirts and shorts, grabbing their names and holding them up like souvenirs from a field trip.

[Like they are thrift shopping]

“Mine is a puppy,” Mingyu said with a little giggle, turning the shirt around to show a cartoon puppy printed on his shirt.

“I’m 1004,” Jeonghan followed proudly, “Angel,” he added with a chuckle.

[Satisfied customer]

“Mine is a small drum,” Seungkwan noted, flipping his shirt inside out to double-check.

“Mine is the moon. It’s cute,” Luna said softly, holding hers up to admire it.

“Yours is a tiger,” Jun pointed out to Hoshi with a smile. He held his own shirt up after. “Mine is a cat.”

“What are you?” he asked, turning to Wonwoo beside him, then squinting at the small symbol under Wonwoo’s name. “Computer? Ah! Game boy.”

Wonwoo nodded without expression, as if being likened to a game boy was both accurate and inevitable.

“Guys, each of you take one of these chargers,” Mingyu instructed, holding up a bundle of small phone chargers they had won.

The room turned into a bustling market of shirts, shorts, and charger distribution. Members moved like a busy noodle shop at lunch rush— laughing, nudging each other, calling dibs on lotions and toothpaste.

[It’s chaos already]

Without saying a word, Luna stood and grabbed the communal shampoo and conditioner from the prize pile like a practiced mother of seven in a small apartment. Before she could step away, Jeonghan raised his voice like he was announcing a royal decree.

“Jiyeonie is first to wash up, okay?” he said.

A chorus of agreement came from the others, with a few loud “Yes!”es and “Let her go!”s peppered in.

“Don’t worry. I won’t take long. I’m exhausted already,” Luna replied, her voice a little hoarse but still chipper as she padded out of the dining area and toward the bathroom with her arms full.

[She might sleep in the bathroom]

“Take your time!” Dokyeom yelled after her as they continued to look at the Nana Tour merchandise they were given.

And so began the unofficial second variety show: Seventeen vs. One Bathroom.

Despite her usual long-shower tendencies, Luna did her best to hurry. She kept it to twenty minutes— miraculous by her standards— quickly rinsing off the exhaustion of the day. Steam rolled out as she opened the door, dressed now in the crisp white Nana Tour tee with her name printed neatly on the front in a lavender color and the matching black shorts. Her damp hair clung to her cheeks as she towel-dried it, walking barefoot down the hallway with tired but light steps.

By then, the rotation had begun. Some were already changed and fresh, others still lying in wait. Every few minutes, someone would knock on the bathroom door with hopeful curiosity.

[Elsa? Do you wanna build a snowman?]

Just as Luna sat herself on the edge of her bed, her limbs finally surrendering to gravity, a familiar sound suddenly cut through the quiet hum of the dorm— a low mechanical whirring that started soft, then built up with power. Her head snapped toward the hallway. The hair dryer. Her eyes narrowed like a hawk spotting prey. That meant someone had it. And if she waited even two minutes, she’d be forced to dry her hair using a hand towel and the ceiling fan.

[Needs the hair dryer immediately]

She stood immediately, towel still draped around her neck, hair damp and curling at the ends. She followed the noise like a hound on a scent trail, her footsteps padding quickly against the wooden floor. The hum got louder as she passed the living room, past the kitchen, finally stopping just outside Mingyu’s room.

[Aha!]

Mingyu was in front of the mirror with the hotel-provided hair dryer in hand, one side of his hair sticking up like seaweed and the other half perfectly styled. Luna didn’t even wait for him to notice her. She reached out and gently poked his arm, making him flinch just slightly as he turned his head.

“I’m next,” she said plainly, eyes wide and slightly demanding beneath her damp hair.

Mingyu looked at her then he hummed casually, the kind of hum that meant he had understood, and also that he was about to take matters into his own hands.

“Turn around,” he said.

Before she could even process it, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and physically turned her around, towel slipping from her neck to fall softly onto the bed. Luna blinked at the sudden manhandling but said nothing. She just stood there, straight as a ruler, arms at her side, staring at the doorway as he pointed the hair dryer to her scalp and began drying her hair.

[Teamwork makes the dream work]

The warm air blasted down on her neck as Mingyu lifted sections of her hair with his fingers like he’d done this at a salon once. Her hair, still wet at the roots, began lifting and flying around her head like a poodle caught in a wind tunnel.

Right in front of them, by the bathroom across the hall, Wonwoo was loitering near the door with his hands holding onto his stuff. He stood still like a bored teenager, knocking lightly against the wooden door with the back of his knuckles.

[Elsa?]

“Who is it?” Wonwoo asked, voice completely calm as if this was a totally normal situation and not a full-scale dorm-wide bathroom hunger games.

“Me,” someone replied from inside, their voice muffled through the door. Luna’s head tilted slightly. She swore that was Dino. Definitely Dino.

“Who’s me?” Wonwoo asked again, monotone and vaguely tired. “Are you Mingyu?”

[What?]

That did it. Luna burst into giggles, shoulders shaking forward while Mingyu tried to hold her head still to dry the back of it. Her now half-dried hair was flying in all directions, the gust from the dryer blowing it into her mouth, across her cheeks, and even into Mingyu’s face.

“Mingyu is here,” Luna said through a laugh, managing to keep her voice steady as she pointed loosely behind her.

Wonwoo turned his head lazily and spotted him— Mingyu, still holding the hair dryer with one hand while trying to dodge a particularly wild strand of Luna’s hair with the other.

[Peekaboo]

“Ah,” Wonwoo said, eyes narrowing in amusement. He chuckled to himself and gave a small nod, like this was all perfectly logical, then turned and strolled back toward his room without another word.

Luna smiled, then gently stepped away from Mingyu, her hair now puffed and frizzing in places, but mostly dry.

“Dry your hair. I’m fine. It’s mostly dry already. Thank you, Gyu-Gyu,” she said sincerely, turning the hair dryer slightly toward him before giving him a small flying kiss and walking back to her room.

Mingyu just blinked after her, blinking away one last rogue strand of her hair from his cheek, then returned to drying his own head like none of it just happened.

Luna had barely reached her bed when Dokyeom peeked his head in.

[Everyone is everywhere all at once]

“Can I see if there is a comb here?” Dokyeom asked sheepishly, eyes already scanning her bed.

“There’s one inside,” Luna nodded toward the small airplane pouch lying neatly on the blanket. “Take it. Just return it back after.”

[Generous bunny]

“Thank you!” Dokyeom chirped as he walked in, rummaging through her things like a raccoon in a picnic basket.

Just as Luna walked out again, she passed Mingyu in the hallway asking Joshua, “Hyung, do you have the toothpaste?”

Without a word, Luna stopped in front of them, silently pulling out her toothbrush and holding it up in expectation like a soldier in formation.

[Me too!]

Joshua, completely unfazed, dabbed toothpaste on hers, then Mingyu’s.

“Thank you, Joshie,” Luna said sweetly, then popped the brush into her mouth and walked off to brush her teeth like nothing had happened.

The dorm was alive with this quiet chaos. Matching shirts padded through the rooms, hunting down missing items. Someone shouted from the living room about not being able to find their socks. Another tripped on a charger wire. Somewhere in the back, Jun and Seungkwan were arguing about whose turn it was next while Jeonghan calmly dried his hair with his towel with ferocity.

After brushing her teeth and giving a final spit into the sink, Luna wandered out of the hallway and into the dining area. She immediately spotted the lotion bottle sitting like a prized relic on the table— surrounded by what was basically the human version of late-night chaos.

[They are very much still awake]

Wonwoo was there, sat quietly like he’d been queuing politely for hours. Jeonghan, with a towel draped around his neck, was sitting with a small fan in his hand, slowly rotating and fanning his hair like he had all the time in the world. And Hoshi— yes, Hoshi— was sitting at the table brushing his teeth in silence.

“Is the lotion there?” Luna asked, voice low and raspy with sleep, shoulders sagging like a retired puppy.

Wonwoo, in his usual calm, ghost-like fashion, slid the bottle toward her. “Here,” he said softly.

Luna plopped herself in the chair between him and Jeonghan, letting out a small huff as she unscrewed the cap. “Thank you,” she mumbled, squeezing some lotion into her palm before rubbing it up her arms with slow, sluggish motions. Her energy was basically on 2%, blinking red.

[She is on the brink]

Jeonghan glanced over at her, eyeing the strands of damp hair still clinging to the back of her neck. “Your hair is still damp, Nana-ya,” he said, eyebrows pinched with light concern as he reached out to rake his fingers through it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You can’t sleep with wet hair,” he muttered, clicking his tongue as if she had committed a mild crime against herself.

[Scolded]

Without waiting for a response, he picked up the tiny fan he’d been using on himself and redirected it towards Luna’s head. With one hand fanning her hair, the other resumed combing through her hair— carefully, slowly, almost absentmindedly like he was styling a doll.

[Second member who tries and dry her hair]

Luna simply hummed, a soft noise of consent, eyelids drooping halfway. She was too tired to react, too exhausted to resist. She just let him do whatever he wanted, letting the fan blow across her scalp as his hand made light, repetitive movements.

Then came the teasing.

“If you sleep with wet hair,” Jeonghan said suddenly, dropping his voice to a soft-yet-mildly-ominous tone, “it’s going to grow an organism. Like… a fungus. Maybe even a mushroom.”

[What?]

Luna blinked.

“A mushroom?”

Jeonghan nodded seriously, still fanning. “Yeah. Mushroom. Like shiitake. Maybe enoki if you’re lucky… but you’re allergic, angel face.”

Luna squinted at him, then slapped his thigh lightly. “You’re so weird, I swear.“

Jeonghan grinned, victorious. “You’re welcome.”

After a few more minutes of exaggerated care, Jeonghan apparently decided it was time to pack for war— or at least an emergency trip to the convenience store. He started picking up random items from the table and around the kitchen: a gochujang tube bottle, a plastic bag someone left from their prize haul, the fan he was just using, and even a packet of napkins. He stuffed them all inside the reusable black bag they had won earlier during filming.

[What is he doing?]

“Just in case,” he said simply, as if that explained anything before going to his room and keeping the bag.

Meanwhile, Luna was reaching the final stages of battery drain. Her movements were molasses slow, eyes barely open, lotion half rubbed in. The warm buzz of the chaotic dorm life continued around her, but her body had clocked out. She took one deep breath and stood up like a zombie queen rising from her throne.

It was bedtime.

And with bedtime came her little ‘goodnight ritual’.

This was something all of them knew by now— especially they all had shared a dorm with her since their rookie days. Luna had a habit. A tradition, really. Ever since those early nights in their tiny old dorm, she’d never gone to sleep without giving each of them a hug and saying goodnight.

Every. Single. One.

She started her nightly rounds like a general making sure the troops were tucked in.

[A woman on a mission]

As she made her way toward the hallway, she spotted Jun stepping out of his room, rubbing his eyes like he had just time-traveled.

“Goodnight, Junnie,” Luna said, already holding her arms out before he could register anything else.

Jun’s entire expression softened. He stepped forward and gave her a firm, warm hug, the kind that said I got you. His arms wrapped tight around her, and for a second, they just stood there, swaying side to side gently.

“Goodnight,” he murmured before heading back into his room, yawning like a sleepy prince.

Luna then spotted Vernon emerging from one of the hallways, dragging his feet, hair slightly ruffled like he had just come back from an astral projection. Luna blinked.

“Are you just about to wash up?” she asked, walking up to him with that mom-friend tone loaded.

“Mhm. Fell asleep,” Vernon mumbled, barely managing to open his eyes.

“Alright.” Luna nodded, arms automatically opening.

“Goodnight, Solie,” she said.

Vernon gave her a sleepy pat on the back as he returned the hug. “Goodnight,” he replied before trudging into the bathroom like a zombie.

Just then, Minghao rounded the corner, his posture already indicating bedtime mode. He paused when he saw Luna, a smile tugging at his lips.

Without a word, he opened his arms already reading her mind.

[That’s twin telepathy]

Luna’s smile bloomed as she leaped into the hug without hesitation. He hugged her tightly and gently rocking them like they were back in a practice room in 2015 with nowhere to go but up.

“Goodnight, Hao-Hao,” Luna whispered into his shoulder.

“Goodnight, Jiyeonie,” he said before heading into his room, closing the door with a soft click.

Luna kept walking.

Back in the dining area, she saw them— Dino and Wonwoo— still up, bent over two steaming bowls of ramyeon. The two of them looked like they were in the middle of the most serious midnight snacking known to man.

[Drinking and eating]

“Not sleeping yet?” she asked, stepping into the light.

The two of them looked up.

“We’ll sleep after this, noona,” Dino answered.

“Alright. I’m here to say goodnight.” Luna nodded.

She walked to Wonwoo first, who was seated. She leaned down and hugged his head, and he wrapped one arm lazily around her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Goodnight, Wonie,” she said gently.

“Goodnight, Jiyeonie,” he replied before going back to slurping his noodles.

When she turned to Dino, she was surprised to see the youngest already standing up, arms wide open like a big baby bird ready to fly.

“Goodnight, noona. Sleep well,” Dino said with a grin.

Luna stepped into the hug, squeezing him tight. “Goodnight, my baby,” she said softly before turning on her heel and heading off to finish her goodnight rounds.

Luna padded softly down the hall, she approached the next roo, the door creaked open gently as she peeked in.

There they were— Joshua, Hoshi, Mingyu, and Dokyeom— all sprawled out on their respective beds like tired, oversized children, each illuminated by the cool glow of their phones. Hoshi was sideways, his foot dangling off the edge like a limp carrot, while Mingyu’s head was barely peeking out from the blanket, scrolling with laser focus. Joshua sat at the top bunk like a perched owl, legs crossed, relaxed as ever, screen brightness turned all the way down like a lowkey dad. Dokyeom had earphones in, head bobbing slightly as he smiled at something on his screen.

“I’m here to say goodnight,” Luna announced, chuckling softly.

Their heads snapped up so fast, it was like they’d just been caught watching anime instead of sleeping. Four sets of eyes darted to her— wide, shining, immediate.

And then it happened. Without hesitation, Hoshi, Dokyeom, and Mingyu all flung their arms open simultaneously. A perfectly timed choreography of yearning and sleep-deprivation-induced affection.

[Ta-da!]

“Ahhh,” Luna laughed, pressing her palm to her cheek. “You guys…”

It hit her then— how long it had been since they all lived together under one roof. The way their arms opened like reflexes told her everything: they missed this. Missed her. Missed them.

She started with the highest point first— Joshua, the ever-collected hyung sitting calmly on the top bunk like a character out of a coming-of-age novel.

“Goodnight, Joshie,” Luna said, giving him a soft smile.

Joshua chuckled, leaning slightly to glance down at her. “Goodnight, Luna.”

With that, he lay back down, folding his arms behind his head like a prince waiting for his dream sequence to begin.

Luna crouched next, slowly descending to Hoshi’s level. He was already beaming at her, cheeks puffed out like a hamster trying not to explode with excitement, arms still wide open and jiggling lightly in anticipation.

“Aigo… goodnight, Shi-Shi,” Luna giggled, her voice fond and light as she let herself fall into his hug.

“Goodnight, our Jiyeonie,” Hoshi replied, squeezing her tight with a giddy hum before letting go with a gentle pat.

Next up was Dokyeom. Before she could even angle her body toward him properly, Dokyeom lunged with zero grace and full force, tackling her into a rib-crushing hug.

“Goodnight!” he basically sang, his voice echoing slightly in the room like a musical number had just begun.

“Yah—!” Luna wheezed, laughing as she patted his head like a parent calming a sugar-high child. “Goodnight, Kyeomie.”

She peeled herself out of his grasp with a chuckle, only to find Mingyu waiting patiently with his arms already open, seated on his bed like a good puppy dog at the vet.

His big doe eyes blinked up at her, soft and full of longing. “Goodnight, Lulu-ya. Sleep well.”

Luna walked into his embrace, only to immediately pat his biceps twice. “Yah, you’re squeezing me too tight, you big log.”

Mingyu laughed and loosened his grip slightly. “Sorry, sorry,” he whispered.

“Goodnight, Gyu,” Luna said, smiling as she backed away. She gave them all a final glance, standing by the door now.

“Goodnight, my loves,” she said gently, giving a small wave before slipping into the last room.

[Last room]

Inside, she found Seungkwan folding his towel, rearranging his things like an overworked flight attendant. Woozi was laying on the lower bunk, screen hovering inches from his nose, earbuds in but clearly aware of everything. Jeonghan lay lazily on his own bed, one leg crossed over the other, scrolling like he was doing serious business on a stock trading app instead of reading memes.

“Noona? Are you looking for something?” Seungkwan asked curiously, making all three heads turn her way like meerkats.

Luna shook her head with a soft smile. “Just going to say goodnight.”

Seungkwan gasped like a child who had just heard the ice cream truck. “Wah—!” he said, immediately rushing over to open his arms wide.

She stepped into his hug effortlessly, the gesture so natural between them. “Goodnight, our Boo,” she whispered.

“Goodnight, our Bae,” he replied with the same softness, patting her back before pulling away with a smile.

Then came Woozi. She turned to him slowly. He was already eyeing her— suspicious, resigned, already predicting what was about to happen.

His eyes seemed to say No. But Luna was already preparing for launch. With a dramatic leap, she threw herself gently onto him. Woozi let out a small grunt of surrender as she hugged him tightly.

“Goodnight, Z,” she mumbled against him.

“Night,” he replied, patting her back with a firm thud like he was burping a toddler.

Then… she turned. Jeonghan looked up from his phone, smirking slightly. Luna’s eyes narrowed teasingly.

She tilted her head and grinned. “Okay, goodbye,” she said, faking a turn.

Seungkwan laughed from across the room, while Jeonghan raised a brow. “Come here,” he said, the usual faux-bored drawl in his voice doing a poor job hiding the amusement in his eyes.

Luna rolled her eyes playfully and climbed onto his bed, only to plop right on top of his chest like a weighted blanket. His arms instinctively came around her, pulling her in. Unbeknownst to her, Jeonghan was already looking over her shoulder, silently motioning to Seungkwan… then the light switch.

Seungkwan caught the signal, eyes wide, nodding like a secret agent before subtly flicking the lights off. Darkness swallowed the room.

“Goodnight, Hannie,” Luna whispered, voice muffled against his neck.

Jeonghan’s fingers had already slipped under the back of her shirt, grazing and tracing soft lines up and down her spine. His other hand gently combed through her damp hair, calming her like waves lapping against a shore. “Goodnight, my moon,” he whispered in her ear, so quiet, it almost blended into the stillness.

If they were home— in their house— this would be normal. Standard routine. This is how they always ended their nights: tangled limbs, whispered jokes, quiet warmth. But here, surrounded by cameras and creaky bunk beds and roommates, Luna knew she had to fight it. But Jeonghan… he wasn’t helping.

Her eyelids fluttered. “I need to go back to my room or I’ll actually end up sleeping here.”

Jeonghan just hummed, his fingers still trailing soft patterns down her spine, the other gently stroking her hair behind her ear. “Go later,” he whispered, breath warm against her cheek.

“We’ll get caught,” she whispered back.

“We won’t,” he said, soft but sure. “I covered the camera earlier.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” he teased.

“You’re bluffing.”

“Are you scared?”

Luna buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Not of the camera. I’m scared I won’t want to get up.”

He chuckled quietly, chest rumbling under her.

“I missed this,” she whispered.

“Me too,” he replied. “You smell like that citrus body wash again.”

“It’s lemon vanilla.”

“Smells like missing you.”

“Cringe as hell,” Luna giggled sleepily, fingers curling into his shirt.

They lay there a little longer, letting silence stretch between them. The thrill of being in the dark, hidden, surrounded yet unnoticed, added an unspoken mischief neither of them wanted to admit they enjoyed.

And then… Jeonghan lifted his chin slightly.

He kissed her. It was slow. Careful. The kind of kiss you give when time is short and everything unsaid is packed into one press of lips. Her breath hitched. Their noses bumped lightly. His hand pressed softly against her back, drawing her closer. No noise. No urgency. Just the warmth of knowing and the slight tickle of her sigh as it escaped her lips.

They pulled back, and Luna could almost hear the smile in his voice as he whispered, “Go before I keep you here.”

He gave her a light pat on the butt. “Goodnight, Nana-ya.”

She slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “Night night, Jeongje,” she yawned.

“I’ll see you in your dreams, okay?” he said.

“Mhm… see you,” she replied, already shuffling toward the door like a half-sedated penguin.

She closed the door quietly behind her and padded back to her room. Still empty. Dino was still out in the dining area, probably finishing his second bowl with Wonwoo. Jun, her other roommate, hadn’t returned from the bathroom yet.

Luna plugged her phone into the wall with her eyes barely open, then climbed into her bed with all the grace of a sloth in molasses. Cherry the bunny was already waiting for her on the pillow.

She hugged it tight and whispered, “Night night, Cherry,” like a promise fulfilled.

She told Seungcheol Cherry would be him for now. So, in a way, she had completed her little ritual.

Their first night in Italy wrapped itself in quiet, sleepy magic. Somewhere in the chaos, in the laughter and sneaky kisses and old routines reawakened, they all found pieces of home.

Tomorrow, their first day in Rome awaited.

But for now… it was night. And they were together.

[To be continued in Clip 2-1]

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meeoewwy · 3 months ago

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SEVENTEEN

S.coups ⤷Shadow of Sacrifice (COMPLETED) ↪Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Last Part Jeonghan ⤷Echoes of Exhaustion (COMPLETED) ↪Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Joshua ⤷Sweet Cookie Competition (One Shot) Jun Hoshi Wonwoo ⤷A Decade of Us (Not yet complete) ↪Part 1 | Part 2 ⤷From Classmates to Soulmates ↪Part 1 | Part 2 ⤷Love Stays ↪Part 1 Woozi ⤷Fitness Quest DK Mingyu ⤷Love Simmered in Chaos (One shot) The8 Seungkwan

　　⤷When Life Gives You Tangerine ↪Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Part 5

Vernon ⤷A Tale of Unsaid Love ↪Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Dino ⤷Long Hair, Don't Care (One shot)

⤷Unspoken Feelings

↪Part 14th Member ⤷Silent Screamer ↪Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4.1

| Part 4.2 | Part 4.3

⤷ The Little Secret ft. Bang Chan

↪Part 1 | Part 2 ⤷Adventure with Yn

↪Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Part 5 | Part 6.1 | Part 6.2 | Part

⤷Weight of Words ↪Part 1 | Part 2 ⤷Thirteen Cheers for Fourteen ↪Part 1 | Part 2 ⤷Enlistment Blues ↪Part 1 ⤷Forgotten Birthday ↪Part 1 ⤷Blossoming in Silence ↪Part 1 ⤷Unspoken Feelings ↪Part 1 ⤷A Family Found in Grief

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hannie-dul-set · 1 year ago

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the breakup soup — [y.jh].

SYNOPSIS. you and jeonghan get into an argument in the middle of the meeting. the rest of your organization’s officers slowly start to realize that this isn’t just about whether the mountains or the sea would be the better venue for your event.

PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x female! reader. GENRE. lovers to exes to lovers, humor, romance, tiny angst, orgmate! jeonghan, college! au, a whole lot of forced proximity, only one bed inn room, a bunch of nosy men. WARNINGS. written breakup (obviously), so much swearing, many many dumb inappropriate jokes (divorce, fucking, diarrhea, to name a few), parliamentary procedures jargon. WORD COUNT. 15k.

NOTE. after six, seven months, this this is finally out of hell (my gdocs). the soup is overcooked. holy shit. everything is written in the pov of a certain teener (excluding jeonghan and the mc. this fic is about them but no, you do not have access to their thoughts). this is super duper fun to write and i hope it’s fun to read as well HHAHAHAHA. please let me know what you think! enjoy!

“TODAY IS SEPTEMBER 7, 20XX. THE MEETING WILL NOW PLEASE COME TO ORDER. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”

The words robotically fall out of Seungcheol’s mouth as he turns over the pages of his clipboard, marking a precise, red dot next to the word ‘agenda’ on the page. Another day, another meeting. He can’t wait for the moment he can finally retire from this god damned position. Every single time he repeats his presiding officer script, it feels like a digit gets added to his age.

“Yes, Mr. Chair. Please say ‘present and voting’ once your name is called to be acknowledged.”

Wonwoo starts the roll call, and Seungcheol is desperately trying to cover his yawn with the clipboard, else Seungkwan is gonna grate at him again for dozing off in his own meeting— the aforementioned straightening himself in his seat when his position is called.

“Public Information Officer 1?”

“Present and voting.”

“PIO 2?

“Present—” says Joshua, flicking a paper clip across the table and into Vernon’s nth latte of the day. “—and voting.”

“Next. Assistant Business Manager.”

“Prese—”

“Okay, got it.” Chan brandishes a look of offense when Wonwoo cuts him off. “Business Manager?”

“Present and voting. Do we really have to keep doing this one by one?”

Mingyu has a point, Seungcheol mentally agrees. But his god damned seniors wrote in the damned constitution and bylaws that every meeting of SVT (Society of Virtuous Timetravellers. He’s in the process of renaming it because your organization that’s supposed to be for history and culture is attracting weirdos instead— and two of them are Soonyoung and Seokmin) must abide by strict parliamentary procedures, so he has no choice but to suck it up and listen as Wonwoo continues to read out the succeeding positions on the attendance list, and it’s starting to sound a lot like a lullaby.

“Secretary, yours truly, present and voting.” The scratch from Wonwoo’s throat signals Seungcheol that it’s to zone back in. “Vice Chairperson-External?”

“Present and voting.”

Your voice draws Seungcheol's attention. He turns his head towards you and he notices the sheets of binded up papers you have in your hands, straightened with a few taps on the table surface before you settle them back down, a swell of pride when he sees what’s printed on the topmost page.

It’s impeccably organized, the task he assigned to you only three days prior. Hell, you even have page tabs sticking out of the sides of every page. Your work ethic never fails to impress him. On top of that, you’re always so professional— able to separate your personal and org life with strict barriers in between because even though you and Junhui have been friends for ten years, your sharp glare holds no reservations when you catch him folding paper turtles with sticky notes right next to you when inside the meeting room.

“Sorry,” Jun breathes out. You retract your leg from under the table after giving him a discreet kick.

Anyway, Seungcheol has high hopes for you, and he’s eyeing you to replace him as SVT’s Chairperson next year (he’s already in the process of manipulating you into taking the job: the compliments he gives away aren’t for free). You’re perfect. You’re flawless. There’s no one else fit for the position but you.

Which is why the next course of events comes as nothing less than a shock to him.

“Vice Chairperson-Internal?” Wonwoo calls out but is met with silence. He looks around. “VCI?”

No answer. You scoff.

“Alright, moving on. Mr. Chair?”

Seungcheol stiffens, second-guessing what he’d just heard, but the near-invisible crooked twitch of the corner of your mouth proves that no, that wasn’t just his imagination. You just scoffed. A sharp noise laced with derision and contempt. That should’ve been the first sign that something is off.

“Present,” he coughs out, resigning his attention back to the meeting he has to preside over. It must be nothing. Even you can get annoyed sometimes. Maybe Jun is fucking around again and you’ve just had about enough.

“There are thirteen out of fourteen officers present, Mr. Chair. We are in quorum.”

“Thank you. Seeing that we are in quorum, it is now legal for us to conduct business. Mr. Secretary, will you please read to us the agenda for today’s—”

The office door swings open.

“Sorry, I’m late!”

And Mr. VCI rushes in with his white coat still hanging off his shoulders. The meeting is put to an abrupt pause as Jeonghan hastily walks up to his assigned seat, trying to explain the reason for his tardiness. “Our lab session took longer than expected,” Jeonghan huffs out, dragging out the chair next to him. “Dr. Han wouldn’t let us—”

“It’s common decency to enter the room and sit down quietly when you’re late so as to not disturb the ongoing meeting. Especially when you haven’t informed the body beforehand.”

Seungcheol flinches when he hears the interruption of your sharp tone. His head quickly snaps to your direction before gleaning Jeonghan’s reaction. His friend’s jaw tightens but he says nothing. That should’ve been the second sign.

“Mr. Chair, may we proceed with the reading of today’s agenda?”

He eyes you carefully and, with a hesitant drawl anchoring his tongue, proceeds with the meeting while Jeonghan quietly settles into his seat. “Mr. VCI, you may send your excuse letter later for record keeping. Anyhow, Mr. Secretary, please read to us the agenda for today’s meeting.” Wonwoo does as instructed. The problem is, Seungcheol can’t hear anything that he’s saying. Not when his seat is exceedingly uncomfortable at the moment.

It’s not his seat. It’s the two people cornering his seat that’s the problem.

Cold sweat breaks out from his forehead. The air is stuffy. You and Jeonghan lock eyes for zero-point-five seconds and there’s a chill in the atmosphere that only Seungcheol can feel. What the fuck is going on?

“Thank you Mr. Secretary. We’ll begin with the first agenda— SVT’s Orientation and Membership Training. Alright. As you all may know, this will be our organization’s first event for the academic year, thus I am expecting everyone’s undivided cooperation in making sure that this event will be a success. We have already discussed the initial details of the event during the previous meeting, and we also distributed the tasks to the officers and committees.” He flips through a page and clears his throat. “I believe our Vice Chair External was tasked to scout for the venue. Ms. VCE, have you prepared your presentation?”

You nod, rising from your seat. “Yes, Mr. Chair. I’ve prepared a comprehensive list of all our options.” Okay, Seungcheol breathes in through nose. You seem normal now. Maybe he was just overthinking things. “I ask for everyone’s assistance in distributing the copies.”

Seungcheol looks at the text written in bold when you pass a copy to him— SVT ORYE & MT 20XX: VENUE PROPOSAL. While everyone is passing the paperclip-bound photocopies to each other, you take the liberty to start speaking. “If you look at the second page, you can see the overview of the entire document. I’ve listed five possible venues and compiled their respective addresses, rates, inclusions, menus, and of course, pictures for your reference. We’ll look at each of them one by one, starting with—”

You pause. Jeonghan is raising his hand. Your eyebrow twitches. Seungcheol gets a bad feeling. “Yes, Mr. VCI?”

“Thank you for the acknowledgement,” he says. “I’d like to ask why exactly are all of these venues located in the mountains? Don’t we have other options? It would be fine if it were just us officers, but I believe holding the event in such terrains would be far too inconvenient for more or less a hundred people.”

A very bad feeling.

“I appreciate your insight,” you respond. Uh oh. Your smile is strained and Seungcheol knows it. That’s the smile you wear when you’re about to pulverize a representative for a disadvantageous partnership to the ground. “However, I’d like to bring to your recollection that the theme of this year’s Orye is traditional South Korean folklore. That considered, I came up with the judgment that the mountainous and forested areas would be the most appropriate and immersive venue if we wish to bring this concept to life. I hope that is clear, Mr. VCI. Anyway—”

“It’s still impractical, Ms. VCE.”

Your face stiffens.

Jeonghan just cut you off.

Shit, he just cut you off.

He stands up, leveling you from across the table. “What about our members with asthma? Heart problems? What if it rains on the day of the event? Do you expect everyone to climb up a mountain trail in all these conditions?”

“If you read through my document before inadvertently interrupting me, Mr. VCI, you’d know that three out of the five venues offer uphill transportation in order to get to the accommodations. And although I understand your reservations about the possibility of inclement weather, may I remind you that it’s also the driest season of the year. You’re being unreasonable.”

Fuck. Seungcheol thinks he needs to butt in but he can’t find the timing when there’s literally an invisible fucking electric fence deterring him from reaching the both you. He catches a glimpse of Joshua’s concerned eyebrows. ‘Do something,’ his friend’s eyes say. He’s about to until you drop a sentence that shoots the tension off the roof.

“Furthermore, I’ve surveyed all of the officers through text if they agree with my venue proposal and I was met with no objections. You’d know if you opened any of my messages last night, Jeonghan.”

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck, you called him by his first name.

You never call anyone by their first name. At least not during meetings and it’s very clear that this is a reason for alarm because everyone else’s eyes fly wide open. Except Jeonghan’s. He just looks pissed— mirroring your very own expression. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong and Seungcheol is slowly starting to realize that this argument isn’t just about the venue conflict.

“Ahem.” He clears his throat for the nth time, a wound might break open. “We will take our VCI’s concern into consideration. If you believe holding our Orye in the mountains is impractical, where do you suggest we should hold it instead?”

Jeonghan’s shoulders relax. He gives you a momentary look before settling back into his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Chair.” You do the same. Seungcheol breathes out a sigh of relief. “I’d like to suggest that we hold it by the beach and sea. Not only would it be more accessible, it would also be considerably cheaper considering there’d be no extra expenses for transportation up the hiking trail. There are also more options if we hold it on the beach. I already have contacts from last year’s set of events. We don’t have to worry about negotiations.”

Seungcheol nods in response. He’s about to say something but once again, he hears an unmistakable scoff from your direction. “Of course, you’d go for the low effort option.”

Oh no. Oh god, no.

Jeonghan’s eyes dart towards you. “What was that?”

Seungcheol doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.

“I’m just saying that it’s so like you to go for the easy way out.”

He doesn’t get paid for this at all.

“What are you trying to tell me here, Ms. VCE?” Jeonghan’s tone is getting more pointed, and the rest of the table are starting to pick up on what’s going on. Mingyu is slowly inching off of his seat and finding the right time to book it. Chan and Seokmin are nervously flitting their eyes back and forth between Jeonghan and you. Minghao hao stopped paying attention. He’s got his airpods on and scrolling through his phone.

“The sea is not theme-appropriate for our event, Mr. VCI,” you firmly press on. “There are myths and folklore that reference the sea and ocean, however as an introductory event for our organization we should defer from making far too uncommon references since most of our members are beginners to our advocacy.”

Vernon is about to be swallowed by his chair. Seungkwan has his face in his hands. Seungcheol’s phone vibrates and it’s a message from Wonwoo. Should I include all of this in the minutes? he asks. Seungcheol isn’t even sure if this argument is still about the venue.

“May I also add that beach events are overused. Everyone holds acquaintance parties, Christmas parties, sensitivity trainings at beaches and beach resorts. Should we follow that template, I doubt our event would be memorable enough for our members to remember.”

“Then it’d be the obligation of the program committee to make it memorable.” The said committee flinches upon hearing Jeonghan’s words. Joshua and Junhui don’t look like they agree with the additional burden. Jihoon’s forehead is wrinkling from secondhand stress. “We don’t need to sacrifice the affordability and accessibility of our location in order to hold a note-worthy event. And, may I also reiterate that we should consider our members with health problems, Ms. VCE.”

This is enough. This is probably enough. Maybe it’s time for Seungcheol to intervene.

“However, I understand,” Jeonghan continues. “I understand that it’s not easy for you to be considerate.”

But how the fuck is he supposed to do that when you two fucks won’t stop provoking each other?

“Oh, for god’s sake!” It’s hopeless. It’s gone out of control. Your voice has bordered on yelling ang Seungcheol himself is afraid of being caught in between. “Are you still mad about the cat thing?!”

What is the cat thing? What in the hell is actually going on?

“This is not about the cat thing and you know that.” There’s a ruffle in Jeonghan’s voice. He lets out a groan and throws his head back with his fingers digging into his hair. “Fuck. Let’s talk later.”

Yes. Yes, please just talk later so we can move on with the meeting.

“Did you just swear at me?”

Nevermind.

There’s a second silence. One second— until the corner of Jeonghan’s mouth twitches and he expels a huff of incredulity. It’s ominous. It’s a harbinger of uncomfortable destruction. “So swearing is crossing the line, but refusing to let me meet your parents and forcing us to keep this relationship a secret is completely justifiable?”

Well shit.

This meeting is done for.

Silence washes over the office once again. Wide eyes are being exchanged and not even Wonwoo is filling the tension with his incessant typing on the laptop. Chair, I don’t think I should include this part in the minutes, Seungcheol receives another message from him. Of course he shouldn’t. A relationship reveal isn’t part of the agenda. Neither is a breakup but he fears it’s teetering to that outcome.

It’s uncomfortable. It’s suffocatingly uncomfortable and Seokmin looks like he’s about to cry at any moment.

“Well,” you simmer. “I guess it’s not much of a secret anymore, isn’t it?”

“Damn.” Soonyoung receives an elbow from Jihoon. He gets hushed down very quickly to make room for another agonizing exchange between you and Jeonghan.

“Is that literally all you have to say? You’re so insensitive, it drives me fucking nuts. This is why it’s so hard to keep seeing you—”

“Oh, so you think I’m not having a hard time? If you can’t understand why I had to do that, then let’s just stop seeing each other!”

“Fine, I’m glad we’re on the same page this time.”

“Great!”

“Great.”

“Your clothes better be out of my closet by tomorrow.”

“Throw them away, I don’t need them.”

“I will! Thanks for the suggestion!”

Things have now gone beyond the point of salvation and he can’t even interject to formally end this disaster of a meeting.

“Mr. Chair, I apologize, but I’m afraid I will be leaving early today.” Oh, so now you remember his existence. You’re fuming, slinging over your shoulder bag and haphazardly collecting your things from the table, and Seungcheol simply massages his temples and nods in acknowledgement to your sudden leave. “Please go through the document at your discretion and I’ll be respecting whatever decision the body makes. Thank you and have a good day.”

Just like that, you’re gone. Jeonghan also starts collecting his things. “My phone lines are open in case you need anything. Goodbye.” With that, he also disappears with the harsh swing and slam of the door, leaving behind another blanket of uncomfortable silence for everyone else to drown in.

Seungcheol sighs. He feels a headache kicking in.

“So...are we having the event in the mountains or by the sea?”

He groans.

Is it too late to file a resignation?

*‎

The following week has been nothing less than hell for SVT (Seungcheol has yet to change to the org name. He’s getting there. Slowly. Fuck university bureaucracies). The Orye is fast approaching, so there are still a lot of matters to be settled— printing documents, processing permits, making calls. The venue dispute is yet to be settled. Mr. Chair instructed a team to check out the mountain and sea accommodations you and Jeonghan forwarded within the weekend to get a better feel of both options.

There’s still so much work, which honestly doesn’t pose a problem with Boo Seungkwan, one of the org’s information officers. He’s used to it, being a member of SVT since his freshman year and all. This workload is nothing to SVT. Nothing to you.

It’s almost like you’re a machine. Printing documents? You’re a one-woman printing shop. Processing permits? You’ve befriended all the office heads and one word from you will get the event approved. It’s basic shit. Completely rudimentary. Seungkwan has always been at awe with how you operate. But right now, the problem is not the work.

It’s the work environment that’s the problem.

“Can someone pass me the stapler?”

Your voice cracks into the tense silence in the office like a cold blade, causing Seungkwan to flinch and look up from his paperwork. The whirring of the printer fills in the void left behind by your voice, with Chan carefully organizing the freshly printed pages with tight lips. You’re met with no response. He locks eyes with Joshua. The stapler is beside Jeonghan, who’s running through the program for the event. They share a look of dread.

“Where is the stapler?” You look up from the table. The clear stiffening of your face upon noticing where the damned thing is forces knots into Seungkwan’s temples. Oh god. Here we go. “Nevermind.”

The stupid stapler skids across the table. It’s been transported from one end to your end. Jeonghan’s eyes are glued to his laptop when he slides it down. Jun is nervously hovering behind him. Seungkwan wants to throw up.

“Jun,” Jeonghan calls out. “How many steps does it take for you to get from one end of the meeting table to the other?”

“I—I’m sorry?”

“Can you try walking from here to the other end of the table?”

Jun is sweating. He hesitantly nods and slowly creaks away from his spot behind Jeonghan, cautious steps towards your end of the table. Three steps. All eyes are on him. Five steps. Seungkwan is not religious but he’s making the sign of the cross. Seven steps.

“Wow. Ten steps is easier and faster than I thought! Anyway, you can come back now, Jun. I have some questions regarding—”

Swoosh!

Something rockets through the air, missing Jeonghan’s face by a mere inch from its trajectory. Holy shit. It hits the wall behind Jeonghan and crashes into the floor. “My bad,” you announce. “I wondered how quick it’d be if I threw something from here to there. It’s definitely faster than just walking.”

Assault. That must be assault. This is insane. This is getting out of hand. Seungkwan can’t deal with this shit anymore.

“I can’t fucking deal with this shit anymore!”

As he says, the moment you and Jeonghan leave the office to attend your respective classes. Jun takes a hefty intake of air and everyone relaxes almost immediately. “Seriously. Why should we suffer because they can’t hold their relationship together?!” he fumes. “If they wanted to break up, they could’ve done it in private. I’m sick and tired of walking on pins and needles whenever both of them are around!”

Murmurs of agreement break out. If their Chair was here, they would’ve been scolded. Thank fucking god he’s at the admin office processing their name change. “This reminds me of the time my parents got divorced,” Soonyoung offhandedly mentions while fiddling through their budget plan.

Wonwoo narrows his eyes at him. “Wasn’t that also the time you started perceiving yourself as a tiger as a coping mechanism?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus christ.”

“I agree with Seungkwan,” Minghao announces. He had just finished sweeping up the shattered stapler from the ground. “I can’t keep up with them anymore. Whenever I’m with our VCE I have to talk shit about the other. Why don’t we just lock them up in a closet so they can fuck and make up?”

A grimace creeps into Chan’s face. “I abhor the image you’ve just supplanted into my mind.”

Minghao furrows his brows. “Who told you to imagine them having sex in our dirty storage closet? Weirdo.” Chan is unable to say anything back. “Anyway, how do we fix this? I have to meet with Jeonghan hyung for dinner and I’m running out of bad things to say about his ex-girlfriend.”

“I thought the plan was to lock them up in the closet?” Seokmin tries to clarify. They’re all actually considering it. Seungkwan is sure they have a death wish.

“You guys can’t be serious. Didn’t you see Vice Chair’s face when hyung walked into the room earlier? She looked like she was considering murder, I had the fucking chills. We are not locking them in a closet unless you all want it to end with a dead body in our office.” Seungkwan pauses. “Thirteen. Thirteen dead bodies if she finds out we orchestrated it.”

“Then what should we do?” Vernon asks. “Get one of them to resign?”

“No!” Soonyoung interjects. “I can’t deal with another divorce!”

Jihoon’s face contorts. “They aren’t your parents. You didn’t even know they were together until they broke up.”

“Still,” Seokmin joins in. “I don’t want any of them to leave SVT.”

Jun presses his lips together. “I think I saw her drafting a resignation letter earlier.”

There is silence. Then the dawning of realization. Then chaos erupts.

“Oh no. Oh no no no no way.”

“We can’t let that happen!”

“Let’s burn her letter before she can submit it!”

“Nobody let her near the office!”

They’re all behaving like idiots, but Seungkwan has to agree. There is without a doubt that even though your breakup has recently put the organization into an uncomfortably tight spot— SVT would be done for if either of you leave. Seungcheol hyung can’t shoulder everything by himself. The both of you are the bedrock of SVT’s internal and external affairs respectively. Resignation is out of the question.

“Heh. You’re all overlooking something.”

It’s a new voice. Seungkwan wondered when this fucker would speak up, and he’s making his entrance in a gratingly obnoxious way.

Mingyu is sitting on Seungcheol’s swivel chair in the latter’s absence. He slowly spins it around, facing the rest of the members with the pads of his fingers pressed together. “To fix a problem, we should find out the root cause first.” Seungkwan wants to hit him, but Mingyu looks like he’s onto something. “Nobody’s resigning. I have a plan.”

*‎

Jihoon didn’t want to have anything to do with this.

It’s not his business whoever from his orgmates are fucking around or have completely fucked their relationship. It’s not his business whether or not you and Jeonghan have the chance to get back together again.

“If your previous supplier didn’t scam us last summer, we wouldn’t even be out here right now.”

Yet that is exactly what he’s been tasked to do— to dig his nose into your business, on a hot day, while having to canvass printing shops in the district. But finding a replacement supplier for your org shirts is the least of his concerns at the moment because—

[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: any update??? have you gotten through her yet?????]

How the hell is he supposed to fish out any information from you about your relationship with Jeonghan?!

“But these rates are seriously unreasonable. I’ll put this one on the table,” you say, ticking off a box from your checklist and Jihoon is sweating bullets. “What do you think, Hoon?”

Sure, you two work pretty well together and you praise his competence any single time you get the chance, but that’s the problem. You aren’t close. Your relationship is strictly professional. Hell, your text convo is nothing but org-related and Jihoon doesn’t fucking understand why he has to be the one doing this job when he can give less than two shits about the situation.

“Let’s check out the next place on the list first,” he replies. “I think the quality for this one is still better than the previous.

Dealing with someone else’s relationship problems wasn’t part of the job description when he got elected as treasurer. He’s got his own love life (or lack thereof) to worry about.

“Alright,” you reply with a deep exhale. It’s hot, and you’re getting tired. He’s also getting tired. Can’t you all just go home? “We’ll take a break first. Let’s continue after getting a drink, but where’s Mingyu? Did he get diarrhea or something?”

[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: hyung status report plz.] [Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Hoshi: wow we sound like actual secret agents.]

Jihoon feels his head starting to hurt. “I’ll text him.”

“Thanks.”

Mingyu isn’t coming back. Not until Jihoon manages to get something out of you. According to Jun, you’ve branded him as ‘Jeonghan-allied’ (whatever the fuck that means), so there’s no way you’d be talking if that street lamp is hanging around. “They went to the same high school! I can’t trust bastards from Hyangnam anymore,” Jun quoted from you personally, and they all started wondering what your conjectured alignment for each of them is.

However, Mingyu is functionally obligated to tag along with your canvassing venture today because he’s SVT’s business manager and Jihoon has all your org money. You’re here because you can’t stay put unless you’re directly involved in the task. Mingyu asked permission to go to the bathroom earlier to give his comrade an opportunity. That was forty-five minutes ago. Jihoon still hasn’t gotten anything from you.

“It’s an emergency, he says. A big one. Gigantic.” Mingyu never said that. Jihoon’s phone is a black screen. “Public toilets aren’t trustworthy. He went to his apartment. He told us to continue without him.”

You grimace with the click of your tongue. “Gross. Those god damned Hyangnam bastards. Let’s go. I need something cold.”

Time is ticking, his phone keeps on buzzing, and Jihoon grows steadily more restless by the minute. You two finish ordering and pay for your two lemonades with SVT money. “It’s the least this damn org can do for us,” you say. He fears you might actually resign, and it doesn’t do his ever escalating nerves a favor. How does he do it? How does he bring up Yoon Jeonghan without invoking your fury?

“Jihoon,” you call out, and he flinches. “What’s wrong? You’ve been spacing out since this morning.”

You’re both sitting on the nice leather seats of the air-conditioned cafe. Being out of the heat seems to have bettered your mood. Maybe he can wiggle something out while you’re pacified by the lemonade and cool air.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat. His knees are shaking. Shit. This is harder than processing your cash advance for the fucking orientation. He needs to ease it in. To bring it up discreetly. “I never really suspected that you and Jeonghan hyung were dating.”

Regret comes instantaneously the moment the words fall out of his mouth.

So much for being discreet. Your face stiffens. Jihoon knows he fucked up badly.

“I—I mean, I’m not trying to comment on anything, I was just surprised to find out.” Dammit. Wrong move. He might get blacklisted like you did with Mingyu. He’s not panicking because their stupid operation might fail. He’s panicking because he’s gonna lose the bragging right of being on good terms with SVT’s intimidatingly unapproachable Vice Chair.

The ice in your drink clinks around. Jihoon squeezes his eyes shut and prepares for the worst.

“God. I can’t believe I dated him in the first place.”

Then he opens one eye. He sees you swirling your lemonade with one hand, the other used as a resting place for your chin before you take a sip from the straw and continue complaining. “I can’t stand him. I shouldn’t have let him sweet talk me into that first fucking date, that venomous bastard. His face is a weapon. I should’ve known better than to trust that face.”

Jihoon’s eyes are now fully opened. He discreetly pulls out his phone from his pocket— the device still constantly buzzing— and opens his recorder app all while his heart is nervously barrelling against his ribcage from the remnants of his fear. “Did he like—” Jihoon presses record, “—cheat on you or something?”

“What? No way. He’d never do that.”

“Then,” he continues prodding. “Why did you two break up?”

“Ugh,” you grunt, taking another long sip from your drink before slamming it down the table with a thunk. Jihoon flinches. He secures his phone underneath the table, checking if it’s still recording everything. “Don’t get me started. You don’t get it, Hoon. He’s just so—”

Jihoon never expected you to just lay down everything for him. You just continue pouring and pouring everything out like a fountain. A fountain of dirty laundry and too many swear words that his audio recording might get flagged if it gets uploaded online. This...was easier than expected.

*‎

Seokmin’s eyes are narrowed at his senior— zoomed in and in focus as the aforementioned finishes talking to a group of SVT’s new members. He’s taken a step back with a stack of flyers pressed to his chest. He can’t miss anything. He can’t miss a single thing.

“Thank you! I better be seeing your faces during the event, alright? Enjoy your lunch!”

Jeonghan is giving them the copy of the program for your upcoming Orye and MT. Freshmen. All women, as far as his eyes can tell, and they’re all giggling after his senior bids them off. He’s never seen Jeonghan hyung smile at you like that. In fact, he’s never even seen him wave at you goodbye like what he’s doing right now. Has he moved on? Oh no. This is bad. This plan might be ruined before they could even conduct an intervention.

“Seokmin, what’s wrong?” asks Jeonghan, snapping him out from the brink of a spiral of despair. “You don’t look too good. Is the weather too hot? Should we take a break?”

“N—no, I’m alright! Let’s keep going!” Seokmin needs to know if his hyung’s unnaturally sweet behavior was an isolated case. There’s not enough information in the air to make a solid conclusion.

“Well, I’m not alright,” Jeonghan grimaces. “The heat is unbearable. Let’s have lunch first, then we’ll continue. Go find us a good place to eat.”

A lump grows in Seokmin’s throat and he nervously swallows, watching as Jeonghan pulls out his phone and starts typing a message, to the SVT group chat probably to give them an update. Or to one of the girls he was talking to earlier. Shit. “Hyung, who are you texting?” he asks. Jeonghan responds with a pause, a suspicious smile, and tells him that ‘it’s a secret, hehe,’ and that he should hurry and look for a nice restaurant because he’s starving.

That wasn’t a helpful answer at all. Seokmin’s anxiety grows by the second. “What...what do you want to eat, hyung?” He should ask more questions later.

“You pick,” is Jeonghan’s reply with yet another grin that puts him ill at ease. “I’m placing my faith in you Seokmin. It better be a good place.”

There’s another lump in his throat. Oh god. This guy sure knows how to pressure people in the weirdest ways. And now instead of prodding around to figure out if his senior has indeed moved on or still has lingering feelings for you, he’s scrolling through his phone trying to look up a good restaurant— panic-stricken because god forbid he make a disappointing choice— while Jeonghan starts talking to another SVT member who just happened to pass by.

“We’re having it next month,” he overhears Jeonghan speaking, momentarily taking away his eyes from his phone just to see his hyung yet again looking and smiling at the org member with an alarming amount of sweetness pouring out of his eyes. “I’ll see you there?”

“Y—yes…!”

His observation is cut short by the buzz of his phone. A message bar pops up, covering the top of the screen and preemptively stopping his resto search.

[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Seungkwan: seok, do we have updates??? jihoon hyung hasn’t gotten back to use since thirty minutes ago!!] [Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Minghao: I told you all this plan was hopeless] [Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: why is noona telling me to take herbal teas and drink lots of water?????]

“So, where are we eating?”

Seokmin’s bones rattle and the phone nearly jumps out of his hands like a live fish.

“Talking to people is tiring,” he hears his senior lament with a long sigh. “Seokmin-ah, you take over after lunch. Let’s go.”

Go where? He hasn’t picked a place yet! Why are there so many food places around campus?! Jeonghan quickly starts walking and, out of even more panic, Seokmin picks a random direction, robotically taking the lead, brain overheating and eyes spinning out of focus until muscle memory lands them across the street of a hotpot place he frequents, just a few blocks away from campus. “O—oh, haha! Hyung, we’re here! Let’s—let’s quickly get inside, yes—”

He stops upon the realization that Jeonghan isn’t following him along the crosswalk. When Seokmin turns his head back, he sees Jeonghan staring at the place with a dampened expression. His first thought is maybe Jeonghan hyung doesn’t like hotpot. His second thought is maybe he shouldn’t be stopping in the middle of the road, so he quickly pads back to the sidewalk.

“Hyung…? Are— are you not in the mood for hotpot? Should we go somewhere else?” Seokmin’s gut churns, devastated because he had just betrayed his hyung’s trust in finding an acceptable restaurant. What’s wrong with hotpot at Red House? Did he have a bad experience here? But his place is so good! He and Soonyoung and Jun hyung have been eating here twice a week, Wednesday and Saturdays, ever since you recommended the place to them as your favorite, and— oh.

So, that’s the problem.

You’ve probably eaten here with him too.

“No, no. We’re not going anywhere.” Jeonghan’s demeanor suddenly switches gears. He brushes past him with a sudden determined look, not looking back even when Seokmin calls after him.

“Hyung, I know another place nearby. We don’t have to—”

“Let’s get inside.”

Seokmin has no freaking idea how to dissect or interpret this reaction. Nervous steps follow his senior inside the restaurant, and a server welcomes them both and leads them to a table by the window. “Oh, you’re not here with your girlfriend today,” says the waiting staff after they’ve made their orders, and he sees Jeonghan visibly flinch in the middle of passing back the menu. Jeonghan simply responds with a stiff smile. Seokmin is sure that he had just screwed up big time.

Why did the server have to mention you? Why?! Now, he can’t help but look at the server with an utter look of betrayal as he sets the ingredients on the table. “Is...is there something wrong, sir?” asks the server with uneasy concern. Seokmin’s bottom lip juts out, shaking his head with a sniffle, and thanks the server with a weak voice and tone.

Jeonghan doesn’t appear to be faring any better. While waiting for the broth to boil, all Seokmin could do is soak up the steadily deflating expression of his hyung and worry that it might affect the taste of the food somehow. He was pretty sure Jeonghan is already over you, considering he seemed to be mildly flirting with the org members earlier and all. But now he’s not so sure. Not when his hyung is poking his chopstick into a block of tofu with a gut wrenching look of longing.

“Hyung...” Seokin makes an attempt. “I’m—I’m sorry for bringing you here, I didn’t know it was—”

“Seokmin-ah.” Jeonghan speaks along with the crank of the stove. “A gente world of advice: don’t bring up sensitive topics when the person you’re talking to has a weapon on him. You’re going to get in trouble.”

The sunlight leaking through the window gives a dangerous glint to the scissors Jeonghan is holding. Seokmin bites his tongue. Jeonghan cuts up the noodles and the two start eating quietly.

Seokmin loves eating. He really does. But this time, every bite tastes like hot sand, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to get indigestion afterwards.

He swallows down another mouthful with the help of a glass of water, and as he’s trying to get the mix of meat and vegetables down his throat, the sound of utensils that were previously clattering suddenly stops. When Seokmin puts the glass down, he sees Jeonghan seasoning the warm broth with salt.

The natural salt that comes out of your eyes when you start crying.

Holy shit, his hyung is crying.

“Sorry, I just— haha, the soup’s a little spicy, right?”

No. No it’s not. They ordered chicken broth. The soup isn’t spicy at all.

“H—hyung…”

Seokmin’s eyes are now also starting to water. Oh no. Oh no, dear god, what has he done? He didn’t mean to bring him here and reawaken stashed away memories. All he wanted to do was find a good place to eat!

“Hyung, I’m so sorry.”

This was a mistake. They should’ve just had kimbap and ramyeon at the nearby 7-Eleven.

*‎

“So, let me get this straight. One of them did nothing but talk shit about the other for thirty minutes, and the other started crying because Seokmin brought him to her favorite restaurant.”

The SVT officers (minus their Chair and Vice Chars) have reconvened the next day at the office. Their upcoming event isn’t a priority right now. The only thing on the agenda is the problem with you and Yoon Jeonghan— to which Mingyu is trying to wrack his brains in coming up with something in light of their initial investigation.

“After listening to the recording Hoon sent, I don’t think she hates Jeonghan. She sounded like was just nitpicking in the heat of the moment,” says Jun. “If she’s still angry at him...maybe she isn’t over him yet? Maybe there’s still a chance?”

All eyes are on Jihoon, who witnessed your rant firsthand.

“I don’t know. All I can say is that she looked a little sad while talking about him. She didn’t add anything else beyond the recording.” It’s not like the recording was of any help. Most of it was just you calling Jeonghan a son of a bitch, a piece of shit, and so on, as well as a few tangents about Mingyu that he himself didn’t quite appreciate. He thought he was your favorite. Like, why are you assuming that he’s on Jeonghan’s side?! They weren’t even friends back in high school!

He spins the office chair in annoyance. To think he gave you a higher score than Jeonghan on your quarterly evaluation. Maybe he should ask Cheol to take it back.

“Well, if one of them is still on the hook, then there’s still a possibility that they can still get back together,” Wonwoo conjectures, eliciting murmurs of agreement from the rest.

“Does this mean we can finally lock them inside a fucking closet?”

“We are not locking them in a closet,” Seungkwan says. Minghao rolls his eyes at the dismissal. “We can’t do that. But we can bring in some forced proximity in a different way.”

Mingyu stops swiveling the chair. Why is Seungkwan looking straight at him? Wait. Why are they all looking straight at him? His throat tightens. He forces down a swallow. What, what, what’s the matter, why are they all looking at him?

“Oh no!”

Suddenly, Seungkwan starts a one-man drama. He exclaims, an arm jutting into the air before he lets the back of the loose hand drop onto his forehead, stumbling into Vernon who’s standing next to him.

“I just remembered I have a doctor’s appointment this Saturday— the same day where I’m supposed to accompany our Vice Chairs and Business Manager in checking out the venues! Oh no! I don’t think I can make it!”

Right. He along with Seungkwan, Chan, Jeonghan, and you are scheduled to evaluate each of the places on your list so that you can finalize the event venue. Not long after, Chan also breaks into a gasp, catching Seungkwan’s signal. “Oh my! I forgot I also, uh, have a thing on Saturday! What a bummer!”

“Then, I also—”

“No!”

Mingyu winces. He’s shocked. He’s appalled. He’s offended. Why is he being yelled at?! Wasn’t he supposed to go along with the other two? “You don’t have a thing on Saturday, Mingyu. You have to be there to make sure that things don’t go wrong!” Seungkwan tells him, and at first he understands. He’s goes ‘oh, right, of course, yeah, sure,” but the moment what that situation entails finally dawns upon him— the fact that he has to be stuck in between you and Yoon Jeonghan for at least ten hours, maybe more— his blood runs cold and his face pales. There’s no way in hell he’s dealing with that.

“Why me?! Why can’t Joshua hyung go?”

Joshua answers with an offended look of bewilderment.

“Hey, it’s your assignment,” answers Jihoon. “And it was your idea to try and get them back together again. You have the moral obligation to make sure this shit actually works.”

There is no hope to get out of this. They adjourn the meeting and everyone starts filtering out the office— not without giving him looks of sympathy and pats on the back before leaving. “Good luck,” Wonwoo says in passing. Vernon sends him a salute before closing the door. Damn him and his meddling ass. He should’ve just let your relationship die out for good.

The day of reckoning comes. It’s five in the morning at the campus parking lot, you and Jeonghan on the opposite ends of his car, and Mingyu already wants to tuck himself in bed for the day. You’re tapping your feet in impatience, looking at your phone with a glare, while Jeonghan pockets his phone with a sigh and welcome’s himself into the front seat of Mingyu’s car with a distinct slam. You huff and do the same into the backseat.

Shit. This might actually be his last day on earth. Mingyu hurries into the driver’s before either of you yell at him to get moving.

“Tell Boo Seungkwan and Lee Chan that they’re getting sanctioned for this,” grits Jeonghan. Mingyu closes the door and prepares himself for an inevitable six to eight hours of hell.

“The kids are sick and you want to penalize them?” you interject from the back. Mingyu notices Jeonghan’s jaw clench. He shuts his eyes tight and whispers a few prayers. “You’re abusing your authority, Mr. VCI. Cut them some slack.”

“Negligence of duty. Section one under General Prohibitions,” rebuts Jeonghan, making eye contact with you through the front view mirror. “Failure to inform ahead of time the inability to do a task or assignment delegated to them shall be considered an act of negligence on the part of the officer. I’m not abusing any authority, sweetheart. I am acting well within my functions. It’s too early for this kind of—”

Silence drops. So does the temperature in the car which at this point feels like negative fourteen degrees. Jeonghan stifles a cough and rolls down the window for air. You look down and flit through the pages of the document you brought. Mingyu’s grip on the steering wheel tightens and he wants to cry.

“Can we go now? Please? We have six places to visit and I really don’t want to be driving until midnight.”

“We can rotate,” you tell him. “Let’s switch drivers after every location.”

Something tells Mingyu that if he lets your explosive temper behind the wheel, this will not only be the last he’ll be seeing of his cherished car that his parents got him as a gift for his twenty-first birthday, but this will also be the last he’ll be seeing of this mortal realm as well.

“No, haha, it’s okay,” he answers, finally starting the engine. “You two have been working really hard for this event so the least I can do is drive.”

“Well, alright. But there better be no more emergencies like last time.”

Mingyu still doesn’t know what you mean by that. Nor does he know why you’ve been giving him herbal teas and digestive supplements. Anyway, the three of you finally hit the road and proceed to your first stop— all the way to Daecheon, which will take about an hour if traffic grants them kindness. Jeonghan rolls the windows back up at some point because besides the ice-cold tension between the both of you, it really is getting cold, and the sky has been cloudy since earlier, and the weather app is telling him that there’s a twenty percent chance of rain. Literally all odds are stacked against him today.

He does live long enough to get through three venues, thankfully. The first one, near Daecheon beach, you complained that the rooms were stuffy and Jeonghan told you to sleep by the ‘goddamned beach if you wanted to feel extra fresh.’ The second beach location couldn’t accommodate your amount of people. The third one— the hanok-style villa in Gyeongsang which you’ve just finished surveying and which Mingyu thought was really nice— Jeonghan said that there’s too many bugs for it to be conducive. You told him to wear a mosquito net ‘you fucking princess,’ while walking back to the car. At this point, it’s already past four in the afternoon. The eleven hours of being trapped in a car with your ex-boyfriend is probably finally getting to your head.

“You really could care less about your members’ well being as long as we do what you want, don’t you?”

“I wasn’t bitten by a single mosquito there. You’re just making problems up to discredit my—”

It’s getting to Mingyu’s head, too. One more minute in this enclosed space with the both of you and he’s jumping out the window.

“Anyway, let’s head to the next location,” you say with a sigh. “Woodland Springs Resort. Luckily, it’s only an hour away.”

Mingyu’s knuckles twitch on the steering wheel. “I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

He catches your face through the mirror, brows furrowed with a frown. “Mingyu, let me drive this time. You’ve been at it for hours.”

“She’s right. Go sit in the back, we can take over.”

He has. He’s tired and annoyed and exhausted by the constant fear that you two might actually make a murder scene out of his precious car, that he’s pretty sure that him driving would soon become a road-risk. It would be fine, right? You two have probably expelled your energy, anyway. Or at least about to. Worst case scenario is that Jeonghan hyung pisses you off and you’d expertly crash the car in a way that would only kill him and leave you two alive.

“Okay,” Mingyu weakly breathes out. “I’m gonna rest my eyes for a bit.”

He opens the car and gets out. So do you. So does Jeonghan. The three of you are out of the car. The math isn’t mathing.

“What are you doing?” you ask Jeonghan.

“I’m taking the wheel,” he simply says, already making his way over to the other side of the car.

“What are you talking about, Mingyu was talking to me.” You’re fast. Fast enough to swat away Jeonghan’s hand from the door handle to the driver’s seat. Jeonghan tightly presses his lips together and releases a huff of air. You look at him with sharp eyes with no intention of moving. Mingyu is literally, physically, and positionally caught in between this shit and he wishes he should’ve just floored it.

“I’m driving,” Jeonghan asserts. “You look barely awake, yourself. Do you plan on crashing us or something?”

The worried undertone completely flies over your head. “Are you saying I’m a bad driver?” Mingyu really doesn’t want to witness this argument at this proximity right now. Jeonghan sighs and digs into his hair.

“No, I just want you to—”

Cr—ack! Boom!

Suddenly, there’s thunder.

And when there’s thunder, there’s rain.

Pshhhhhhh!

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“Hurry and get in, let’s go—”

Mingyu really wanted to yell at that moment. Thankfully, the sky beat him to it.

It starts pouring. The three of you scramble back into the car.

All things considered, you all decided that it’d be too dangerous to stay on the road, taking into account the weather and exhaustion and all, so you looked for a nearby inn through Google Maps and Jeonghan drove you there (yes, he won in the end and you’re still bitter in the backseat).

Boom! Another round of thunder, and the rain just continues to pour harder and harder. At this rate, you guys won’t be able to check out the rest of the locations today. Meaning, his prison sentence is bound to be extended. God freaking dammit. Mingyu continues to bitterly lament while rushing into the cabin inn. The door jingles upon entry. He lets out a sigh of relief upon being saved from the rain.

“Hi, good evening! Do you still have any rooms available?”

You’re there at the front desk doing your thing, being the externals head and all, while he and Jeonghan wait behind, damp and uncomfortable. He can see his hyung getting more and more impatient by the second, tapping his wet soles against the wooden flooring with his arms crossed. Mingyu can only sigh and hope to take a meditative shower soon, once you’ve booked the three of your rooms.

“Ah, yes,” says the lady behind the front desk. She looks at you, then spares a glance at him and Jeonghan in all their soggy glory, before flitting her eyes back at you. Okay what the hell. He knows they look terrible right now, but that was just rude. “Will it be for the three of you? Unfortunately, we only have one room left available, ma’am, peak season and all, and it’s only good for two people.

“That’s fine, we’ll take—”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Judgemental Front Desk Lady interrupts. “I meant a maximum of two people can occupy the room. It’s our policy.”

Well that’s stupid. The hell were you guys supposed to do, then? Run back to the car, get even more wet in the process, and look for another place to stay in this stupid weather? Mingyu can practically see a vein throbbing on the back of your head. He catches your shoulders lift and drop along with an exhale, a momentary pause before you respond. “Can’t you make an exemption? The weather is terrible outside and we really need a place to stay for the time being.”

Mingyu decides to look over and see how the other ticking time bomb is faring, but when he leers over to the side, Jeonghan is no longer beside him. Wet footsteps against wooden floors can be heard. He snaps his head back to the front desk and sees his hyung walking up to you— placing his arm around your freaking waist when he lands next to you, and alarm bells suddenly go off in Mingyu’s head.

“Babe, what’s the problem?”

Goosebumps prick all over his body.

What.

What the fuck?

“What’s wrong?”

Mingyu rubs his eyes, thinking that he just saw (and heard) wrong, but no. Yoon Jeonghan has indeed reigned claim over your waist. The fuck? He refocuses into your expression, expecting you to look disgusted and send a kick to his hyung’s shin, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, you flash a look at Jeonghan, then back to the receptionist, peering down at the desk surface where her hand is resting, before looking back up at Jeonghan and nudging yourself closer to him with a sigh. What in the everloving fuck is going on?

“They’re saying that only two people can stay inside the room,” you lament. “This trip really isn’t working out for us. After our disaster of a honeymoon, the last thing I thought would happen was for us to get stranded in Gyeongsang in the middle of a storm.”

“Let’s just go look for another place to stay, sweetheart.”

“But it’s pouring outside! I can’t let you drive in the weather. It’s too dangerous.”

Honeymoon? What? What the hell is this improv sketch? Why the fuck is his hyung giving you the lovestruck eyes and why are you letting him look at you with lovestruck eyes? Why are you lovestruck-eyeing him back?

“Oh, you’re newlyweds?” asks the receptionist, and Mingyu didn’t think his eyebrows could scrunch up any further until he heard Jeonghan agree.

“We just got married last week,” he says with a sickeningly sweet tone.

“How lovely!”

“Actually, we just came back from our honeymoon at Geoje Island,” you add. “It’s a long trip, and we wanted to get home as soon as possible, but that...wasn’t exactly an option for us.” Suddenly, you turn your head back to look at him. Now, you’re all looking at him. Why are you all looking at him? This is fucking scary.

You lean into Jeonghan and whisper something into his ear. A look flashes on Jeonghan’s face. He doesn’t like this look.

“Brother, can you please give us a moment?”

There’s a pause. Mingyu’s mouth is hanging slightly ajar and he hesitantly points to himself. Brother? Me? Jeonghan nods and smiles and returns his attention back to you and the receptionist. The three of you are talking about something. In a significantly lower volume. While sending him looks of remorse in between. What the hell are you two bullshitting about now?

Not long after, Mingyu sees the lady drop a room key into your hands and sends you off with a smile. “Second floor. Thank you, and have a great evening!”

“Thanks!”

Mingyu isn’t exactly sure what just happened or how it happened, but at least you have a place to stay for the night? When the three of you hike up the stairs and spot the room with 203 labeled on the door, Mingyu decides that he needs to know what you fuckers talked about. “How did you do it?” He blocks the door before you could open it. “I thought only two people could use this? How did you get us the room?” Jeonghan and you exchange a look before relenting.

“Your fiance called off your engagement and you were so depressed that you followed us all the way to our Geoje,” you blankly respond.

“Our parents are on vacation so you couldn’t go to them. We were kind enough to let you third wheel on our honeymoon,” adds Jeonghan. Mingyu blinks. “But on the way back it started raining, so we’re stuck here for the moment. We noticed a wedding ring on Soonja’s finger, so it was pretty easy to get her sympathy.

Soonja. You even know the lady’s name, holy fuck. At least that explains the pitiful looks sent his way. But Mingyu is still very much perturbed. The hairs on his arms are still standing. “You two are con artists,” is all he can say back.

You roll your eyes and toss the key to him. “Hey, it got us the room.”

“Right,” Mingyu grunts, catching it mid-air. “You’re both so good at lying, even I’m starting to think you’re still married.”

The doorknob clatters open. You and Jeonghan quickly jump away from each other, and Jeonghan loses the steady hold he had around your waist since earlier. Mingyu stifles a grin. The alarm and embarrassment on both of your faces makes this day’s worth of stress all worth it.

“Hurry up and get in! I need a shower and a change of clothes, gosh.”

Fortunately, you three prepared extra articles of clothing for the trip, having anticipated sweat from the heat instead of getting pissed on by the rain clouds. Unfortunately, Mingyu lost at rock paper scissors so he gets to shower last. “There’s a drying rack in the bathroom,” you tell them upon exiting, a towel to your head before plopping down on the bed next to the window.

When Mingyu finishes showering, he hears you and Jeonghan arguing over something again. Cheol’s voice can be heard somewhere too. Upon re-entering the room, he spots you two occupying the floor right by the bed, a laptop sitting on the mattress that’s showing a very tired Seungcheol trying to cut in between your yelling.

“In hindsight, I think the beach in Daecheon is our best option. The kids can run around more freely there.”

“No, you were right about the mountains. The hanok-style villa is better suited for our event theme. We can just add bug repellent to our budget plan.”

“Listen to me for a second—”

“You’re the one who’s not—”

“This could have been an email,” says Seungcheol’s choppy voice thanks to the shitty reception. Yeah. Mingyu isn’t dealing with this. Over twelve hours of being a third party to your arguments is already enough, thank you very much. He drops down the unoccupied bed, already getting comfortable, and uses the nonstop swearing next to him as a lullaby.

Weird enough, it’s an effective lullaby because Mingyu slept like a rock. He yawns, stretches out of bed thanks to the early morning light through the curtains waking him. It’s clear out. The windows have watery dots painting it from the aftermath of the rain.

It’s pretty outside, Mingyu notices, but there’s something more eye-catching than the pretty natural scenery of the mountainside.

The laptop is still on and laying on the bed, pushed further to the edge with a low battery notification obscuring the open document of the event’s program that he’d seen Jeonghan preparing in the car yesterday. But what’s occupying most of the mattress is the both of you— you and Jeonghan— with your printed documents scattered around, surrounding a sight that he probably isn’t meant to see.

You’re laying on Jeonghan’s arm as a pillow, face turned to the side and slightly tucked into chest. Jeonghan’s chin is buried into the top of your head, his legs tangled with yours and the blanket has been kicked off the side. The morning light is showering the both of you like a spotlight. Mingyu snaps a picture. The kids are gonna eat this shit up.

*‎

It’s the day of the event, and Choi Seungcheol has not slept a wink since last night.

There were some last minute things he needed to take care of. Game props, printouts, and powerpoint presentations he forgot to quality check until ten in the evening. Grocery shopping for snacks, and an error in the bus booking. The works. But none of that matters now. They’ve all been settled, everyone has made it to the hanok villa in Gyeongsang in one piece with no asthma attacks nor heart related concerns occurring, and not once had you and Yoon Jeonghan argued ever since last night.

To be honest, it’s freaking him out a little. He wasn’t the only one who had to pull an all-nighter. His two Vice Chairs had to suffer with him too and the both of you have been extremely civil to the point of unease. It’s weird. It’s eerie. Like right now, as you two are welcoming the lines and lines of members in hanboks and traditional attire with matching smiles and pleasantries. You run out of program printouts and ask Jeonghan if he has any left, he gives you a stack, and the exchange ends without even a scoff, a swear, a mock, or even a look of derision.

This is...ominous, to say the least. It’s like the calm before the storm. Choi Seungcheol cannot rest easy.

“What the fuck is going on with them?”

It seems like he isn’t the only one who’s noticed. Currently, it’s lunchtime. They’d just finished presenting the constitution, bylaws, and internal rules and regulations of the organization. Now, they’re queueing up the kids to the food table.

Among the ushers are you and Jeonghan. Standing next to each other. You aren’t arguing but you aren’t talking to each other either. Joshua is the one who brings it up to the small group preparing the drinks right now— him, Soonyoung, and Vernon. If Joshua doesn’t know the reason for your sudden civility, then no one does. Junhui gets interrogated too, but he provides no answers, only confusion. “Wow. Wild,” is all Jun remarks. They have no idea if you two have made up, have settled your differences, have gotten back together, or all of the above.

It’s fucking with him, especially after weeks of being perpetually on the edge because of your cold war. Seungcheol calls Mingyu to a corner while everyone else is in the midst of preparing for the next part of the program. Mingyu jogs over, mildly scared and mildly confused.

“Hyung,” he calls out. “What’s up?”

“Our two Vice Chairs,” Seungcheol starts. He looks over at the center field where the members are sitting. Chan and the rest are still handing out the paper slips. He can still interrogate Mingyu. “You went with them for location scouting. Did something happen between them?”

Mingyu looks taken aback. “Uh.” He stiffens. Seungcheol narrows his eyes at him.

“Kim Mingyu.”

“Define ‘something,’” Mingyu delays.

Now, this is suspicious. He definitely knows what that something is. Choi Seungcheol isn’t gonna let him off without squeezing the information out of him. “I don’t know,” he huffs. “Anything that could explain why they’re acting like—”

Seungcheol points in a direction. Mingyu’s eyes follow the trajectory, and his gaze lands on a very alarming scene: Yoon Jeonghan sitting on one of the monoblocks, Yoon Jeonghan seeing you pass by, Yoon Jeonghan standing up, Yoon Jeonghan stopping you with a tap on your shoulder, Yoon Jeonghan offering his seat to you, Yoon Jeonghan leaving the scene and busying himself with some other task, after you had taken his seat.

“Like that?”

Mingyu is now sweating. “Uhhhh,” he hesitantly drawls. Then his eyes dart around. Until he spots Seungkwan pass by with a stack of boxes. “Can I talk to my lawyer first?”

“Mingyu.”

“Let’s—let’s—let’s get back to work, hyung! I have to go—”

He attempts to chase Kim Mingyu down. Attempts. Because Mingyu suddenly has the speed of a track and fielder and drags Seungkwan away into the accommodation building, the hanok, and he’s suddenly pulled back by Chan, who’s holding a box containing two or three small pieces of folder up papers. “Hyung,” Chan starts. “It’s your turn to pick.”

Seungcheol furrows his brows. Drat. Kim Mingyu has escaped. “Pick what?”

“Your manito. Duh,” Chan answers. It’s the box he’s been passing out since earlier— a box filled with the names of all the attendees and whoever you pick out, you’re tasked to take care of them throughout the entire trip and pay them special attention. For relationship building, according to Jeonghan, when he pitched the idea. Seungcheol is aware of this mini activity, but he didn’t know he’d be participating. He stares at the remaining three papers. “Hurry up. I still have to give the rest to Seungkwan and Mingyu hyung.”

“Show me some respect,” he scolds, picking out a random name. “They ran inside. Storage, I think.”

Chan hums in acknowledgement and takes the box away. When he’s left, Seungcheol rolls open the piece of paper. Looking at the members gathered around the field right now (who are listening to the intermission number prepared by Seokmin and Jihoon) he notices that a few of the kids are already getting pretty chummy. He sighs, pretty sure that he picked out a new member that’s most probably three years younger than him. How is he supposed to overcome the generation gap? Won’t the kid find it weird if this old man suddenly starts acting close?

Much to his initial relief, a familiar name greets him. Yours, in big bold letters. That’s...that’s pretty doable. His favoritism for you is already blatant to the point that Soonyoung gets jealous. You’d been working hard since, well— the moment you’ve been a member of fucking SVT. He can just tell you to sit and rest and transfer your tasks over to the other guys.

“Hey.”

Seungcheol calls out to you, who’s sitting on the seat Jeonghan gave away earlier. Seokmin and Jihoon are hyping up the crowd (mostly Seokmin), but you’re hunched over in your seat, massaging your temples while looking over a document. “Chair,” you snap up, visibly tired and stressed (and unrested, by the way). “A few members are absent, so the number of members for each group for the team building later are mismatched. Should we keep it as is, or should we transfer some of them?”

A pang of guilt hits him. Christ, he’s been taking advantage of your competence and diligence. “Transfer, but leave that list with me. I’ll take care of it.” He lays a hand on your shoulder, urging you to go rest inside one of the hanoks for now. “You didn’t even nap on the bus. Go get some sleep. I’ll ask one of the guys to wake you before team building.”

You look up at him, smiling. Oh, his poor successor. He’s been overworking you to the bone. “Will do, Chair. Thanks.”

He mirrors your smile, watching fondly as you walk into one of the houses. It’s all warm and sweet. Until it’s not.

Seungcheol jolts. He feels a chill run down his spine. What the fuck?

He whips his head around, startled by the sudden cold flash. Then, from a few feet away, he spots Jeonghan, preparing the multicolored handkerchiefs for the team building, but has stopped arranging them by color because he is glaring daggers at him. Hello? What in the world? He’s about to approach, but then he staggers in his steps upon seeing you pass by Jeonghan’s station.

Jeonghan stops working, circling from behind the station to say something to you. You say something back— something that’s enough to tighten Jeonghan’s expression, and Seungcheol knits his brows. He can’t hear what you two are talking about, but he’s pretty sure it’s an argument. Oh god. It is an argument. You’ve got your angry face on and Jeonghan is raking his hair. Oh no. You two have been so well-behaved. You’ve been getting along so, so well lately. Is he at fault for ruining your peace?! How was he supposed to know your ex-boyfriend is a jealous bastard?! He was just doing his task and being nice to you!

“There goes all our progress.”

Seungcheol snaps his head back to see Jun. He’s sipping on a juice box, a leftover from lunch. There’s a good amount of disappointment in his face. “Pro—progress?”

Junhui pulls down the juice from his mouth, shaking his head. “Hyung. You’ve ruined everything.”

Now, what the fuck is this cryptic bullshit? Jun just walks away, leaving even more crumples in Seungcheol’s brain. Seokmin and Jihoon’s performance is about to end, the mic screeches, and an applause breaks out, but he’s still debating on what to do. Should he pry information out of Jun? Or run after the both of you? However, he gets to do neither because at the end of the intermission, Seokmin does something off-course.

He’s supposed to pass the mic to Seungkwan by now, to announce the short break before team building. But Seungkwan isn’t here, and Seokmin is still holding the mic, and the crowd is still cheering. He meets eyes with Seokmin onstage. A bad feeling hits his gut. And since the breakup meeting that happened a few weeks ago, Seungcheol has learned that whatever his gut is feeling is unquestionably correct.

“The show isn’t over yet! Let’s give it up to our dependable, hot, and arguably aging Chairperson— Choi Seungcheol! Woohoo!”

This.

This was not part of the program that he remembers approving.

“Choi Seungcheol! Choi Seungcheol! Choi Seungcheol!”

This was definitely not part of it at all.

“Again, give it up for Mr. Chair!”

Illit’s Magnetic, Viviz’s Maniac, and KIOF’s Midas Touch later (with his face mimicking a red and ripe cherry), Seungcheol was finally allowed off the stage. “Wow! That’s our Chair, everybody! Who knew he was hiding this kind of charm?” Seungcheol wants to die. Seokmin’s voice is cheery in the microphone, but his officer suddenly turns his face away from the mic to whisper something to him. “Hyung,” Seokmin’s voice is suddenly grave. “I got a text from Seungkwan. He says he can’t find the VCs.”

Oh, fuck this. He’s going to kill himself.

“Tell—tell the kids we’re gonna have some free time first before proceeding to the team building.” Seokmin nods. Seungcheol’s face is still very very hot, but he swallows the embarrassment aside for now to deal with this problem. You and Yoon Jeonghan can’t just disappear. You’re both leading two teams for the games. Well. Maybe he can give you a pass, but Jeonghan is still needed out there. He feels unreasonably wronged by him too for that glare earlier.

Seungcheol marches into the hanok. He spots an equally stressed looking Seungkwan inside the living area. Mingyu and Jihoon are there, too. So are Joshua, Vernon, and Chan. Why are they all here? They’re supposed to be preparing for the team building. These kids are slacking.

He’s gonna give them an earful later. For now, there’s a bigger issue to solve. “Where are the two?”

“We don’t know!” Seungkwan exclaims. “We’ve been looking for them too.”

He hears a sniffle come from one of them. It’s from Soonyoung. “The last I’ve seen them, they were arguing.” Seungcheol gulps. Maybe…by any chance…that may have been his fault? “This happened with my parents too. And they came back with divorce papers.”

“Stop projecting your unresolved familial trauma onto them,” Jihoon sighs. “They aren’t your parents.”

“I’ve sent a text to Wonwoo and Minghao hyung,” Vernon brings up. “Maybe they’ve seen them.”

At that moment, Minghao enters the living area. Seven heads snap to his direction. Minghao stops in his tracks. “What?” He looks awfully relaxed, not looking as though he had just dealt with two ex-lovers who say they hate each other and that it’s over, but have too much sexual tension for their assertion to be believable. In fact, he looks quite at peace. Satisfied, even. Accomplished. This is fucking suspicious. “Isn’t it time for the team building activities?”

“Hao,” Seungcheol starts. “Have you seen the two Vice Chairs?”

Minghao looks at them. There’s a pause of anticipation. There’s literally no reason for this suspense build-up. “Oh,” Hao exhales. Why are they all waiting for the pin to drop? “I did.”

What they hear next, they never could have been prepared for.

“I locked them in a closet.”

The pin has dropped.

Seungcheol is the first to speak up.

“You...you what?” he starts. “Come again?”

“They were arguing,” Minghao shrugs. “I got annoyed.”

Seungkwan’s mouth is hanging open. “You— you got annoyed,” he stammers. “So you…”

“Locked them in a closet,” Minghao finishes. “Yeah.”

It doesn’t hit them at first. Then it does. It hits them hard.

They all exchange looks. In a matter of soundless seconds, they immediately run to the direction Minghao just came from. What does he mean he locked you and Jeonghan in the closet, why would he lock you two in the closet, locking you two in the closet is a recipe for shit-eating disaster, does he want Yoon Jeonghan to fucking die?

“Shit, what if Jeonghan hyung is dead?”

At least they’re all on the same page. They come to a screeching halt upon reaching the room at the end of the hallway, but there is no sign of either of you. The only semblance of humanity within the vicinity is Wonwoo, who is sitting at a table, headphones on, laptop open, and typing without a care in the world.

Seungcheol’s eyes dart around the room. Closet. Closet. There’s an indication of a sliding door at the opposite wall. He walks up to it, hesitantly with shaky steps, his heart hammering against his chest. The others inch behind him in caution. Sweat starts trailing down from his forehead. He reaches out for the handle, one hand outstretched, and then—

“I wouldn’t open that if I were you.”

Wonwoo’s voice cuts through the tension. He freezes. They all look back at the man by the desk, unaffectedly writing his documents, the sound of keyboard clicking filling the gaps in the air. “Why?” Seungcheol chokes out. Thunk. Their heads snap back to the closet. He feels Soonyoung clutch him from behind.

“There was yelling from in there until a moment ago,” is Wonwoo’s simple answer. “I think they’ve moved on to something else.”

Another tense pause fills the room. “Who...who was yelling?” Jihoon raises. “What kind of yelling? Why didn’t you check if anything was wrong?”

Wonwoo wrinkles his nose, momentarily taking his eyes off from the laptop to give their huddled group a look of disgust. “And risk walking in on them making out or something? No, thanks.” Then resumes what he’s doing. They all look at each other. Surely, that can’t be the case, right? You’ve got more pride on your shoulders than to fold for Yoon Jeonghan just because of some contrived forced proximity. It’s more likely that you’ve found an opportunity to strangle him. To kill him in cold blood. Which is why they’ve all run here out of concern right now.

“Why would there be yelling if they’re making out?!” Mingyu exclaims, concerned.

“I don’t know the kind things they’re into,” Wonwoo leers at them. “And frankly, I don’t want to know.”

“Then...what are you doing here, hyung?” Vernon prods. “Of all places.”

Once more, Wonwoo stops typing to grace them with an answer. “This is the only spot with good reception.” This feels like a fever dream. Seungcheol does not know what to do. His attention is directed back to the closed closet door, hearing another...thud coming from within. He locks eyes with Seungkwan. And then Mingyu. And then Jihoon. Holy shit. In his four years of Chairmanship over SVT, this, by far, has been his biggest obstacle yet.

The officers before him never warned him about this. What exactly is the best course of action here? What would result in the least amount of emotional, mental, and physical repercussions? Leave the door alone? Unlock it and witness horrors untold? There’s still an event they have to manage. Seokmin is probably freaking out outside right now. Yet here they are, watching the unmoving and locked closet door with uncertainty and caution, like it’s an oracle that will show them the way, that will give them a command to do something. Anything. And, much to their surprise and horror—

“Mr. Chair.”

It does.

“Would you please unlock the door?”

The oracle is wearing the sound of your voice? No, wait. It is your voice. From behind the door. “Holy shit,” he hears one of them hiss out from behind. Holy shit indeed. Seungcheol knows better than to test your temper. Quickly, he reaches out for the handle, clicks it open, and a force stronger than his slides the door gaping and completely open, revealing the dark and until interiors of the closet.

You emerge from the darkness. So does Jeonghan. Alive. Unstrangled. Maybe? That’s up for debate because there are some visible marks on his throat. Seungcheol pretends not to see.

“W—welcome back…?” Soonyoung hesitantly drawls out. You walk out from the closet, Jeonghan trailing behind you slightly from behind. You’re both still wearing the in theme hanboks, but the fabrics are clearly disheveled. And loose. And Jeonghan is hooking his fingers on the hand lagging behind you. And looking at the back of your head with a concerning amount of heart eyes.

You don’t mention a thing about it. “I believe we are behind schedule,” you simply say. “Team building, right? Let’s head off to our posts now.”

They don’t say anything about it either. Seungcheol clears his throat, creaking his body back to the direction of escape. “Y—yes. Everyone is waiting.” The rest follow. You all exit the area except for Wonwoo, who’s still doing his work. When Seungcheol turns back to check on you two— you know, just in case— he immediately regrets it.

Jeonghan is still a step behind you. But he leans slightly forward, dipping his head down to reach your ears. His mouth moves, whispering something. A silent laugh cracks through your features. A laugh. Not once has laughter occurred since the beginning of this predicament. Not a. Single. Instance. You bump your elbow against Jeonghan’s chest. Jeonghan continues to move behind you with a thin smile on his face.

He sees nothing. They see nothing. They leave the house. They immediately scatter to inhale fresh, free air.

“Hyung! Oh my god where have you guys been?! The members are waiting!”

An unspoken agreement was formed. There will be no further mention about this occurrence. Not a single word.

*‎

“TODAY IS SEPTEMBER 27, 20XX. THE MEETING WILL NOW PLEASE COME TO ORDER. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”

“Yes, Mr. Chair. Please say ‘present and voting’ once your name is called to be acknowledged.”

It’s the first Executive Board meeting after SVT’s Orientation and Membership Training. The agenda for today is just a feedbacking session on the said event. Seungcheol yawns, not bothering to cover it up with the clipboard and Seungkwan sends him a dirty look for it. Wonwoo carries on with the roll call, one after the after stating their attendance for the meeting today. It’s the same routine for the most part. Seungcheol glances at the empty spaces on both his left and right. He taps on the table with a pen impatiently.

“Secretary, yours truly, present and voting,” Wonwoo drones one. The two seats are still empty. Seungcheol digs his pen into the wooden surface. “Vice Chairperson-External?”

No answer. Wonwoo continues.

“Vice Chairperson-Internal?

Still no answer. Wonwoo continues.

“Chairperson, Mr. Chair?”

“Present,” Seungcheol gruffs. God damn it, where the hell are you and Jeonghan? This feels like a rerun of their group traumatic experience last week. “Proceed.”

“Yes, Mr. Chair. There are twelve out of fourteen officers present. We are in quo—”

The door swings open.

You and Jeonghan enter in a hurry.

“We’re sorry we’re late!”

Again. Seungcheol feels the horrible, wrinkly slap of deja vu. His eyes follow while you and Jeonghan rush to your seats, out of breath and in a hurry. Joshua has stopped flicking origami frogs on the table. Seokmin and Mingyu pause in between chair spins. Junhui’s mouth is glued to the latte straw while darting his eyes wide back and forth, between you and Jeonghan. And Minghao cannot be bothered by any more relationship problems.

Wonwoo clears his throat. “Fourteen out of fourteen officers present, Mr. Chair,” he amends.

“Yes, thank you,” Seungcheol sighs out. “Seeing that we are in quorum, it is now legal for us to conduct business. Mr. Secretary, will you please read to us the agenda for today’s meeting?”

Much to his surprise, the meeting proceeds quite...smoothly. Wonwoo reads out the agenda. No objections. They start the feedbacking session. No problems. The incident with the closet is not even mentioned. Not once. Not even a hint despite the shared knowing looks when Seungcheol asks if there are still more matters to discuss.

“No more, Mr. Chair,” Vernon confirms. Seungcheol nods. This is going awfully well. When’s the curveball going to hit him? When? “Thank you, Mr. Auditor. Since there is nothing else on the agenda, let’s proceed to announcements.” He looks at his clipboard. There’s only one thing scribbled under announcements. It’s not his handwriting. Seungcheol squints. “Lee Chan’s...pool…barbecue...dance party on the 29th?”

There’s a pause. Seungcheol looks up from the clipboard.

“What is this?”

All eyes are on Lee Chan. He looks like he enjoys the attention. “Lee Chan’s pool barbecue dance party on the 29th,” he answers, as a matter of fact. “You’re all invited.”

This is the curveball he’s been expecting. Seungcheol feels a knot in his temples. “How many times do I have to say this?” he releases a heavy breath. “Announcements on the order of business are reserved for org-related announcements. It is not an opportunity for you to invite everyone to your parties, nor to your outings, nor to your nephew’s baptismal shower, Soonyoung.”

The man in question swallows down a gulp. Seungcheol sighs for the nth time.

“I hope that is crystal clear.” He’s so done. He’s so tired. When is adjournment coming? Why can’t it come sooner? “Anyway, do we have any other announcements? Relevant announcements, rather.” Seungcheol sees you with your arm up. He feels a rush of relief. “Yes, Ms. VCE, you are raising your hand?”

You put your hand down, allowing it to rest gingerly on the table when you say, “Thank you for the acknowledgement, Mr. Chair.” You look like your usual self— in between smiling pleasantly and staring blankly. Seungcheol nods, prodding you to continue. You do. “I would like to put the matter of my resignation on today’s table, Mr. Chair.”

“Oh, yes, the matter of your—”

A screeching halt. Seungcheol’s tongue stops working. He stares at you, wide-eyed.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“My resignation.” You pull out a white, ghostly envelope from somewhere. His throat tightens. “I am filing it today and hoping for its immediate attention.”

It’s like time stops completely. The entire office is frozen. They wait for you to say it’s a joke. Any moment now. Please.

“Mr. Chair?” you call out. “Allow me to repeat. I will be resigning from my position as Vice Chairperson-External. What process do we need to undergo to finalize this?”

You don’t say it’s a joke. You are dead serious.

“No?!”

“Did—did I hear that right res—res—resigna—hiccup!”

“Breathe in, Seokmin. Breathe out. Yes that’s—”

“Why would you do this to us?! Why?!”

“Oh my god, it’s happening to me again, it’s happening to me again—”

“What do you mean resignation, what the hell are you talking about?” Seungkwan shoots up from his seat, slamming his palms against the table in distress. “Aren’t you two back together?! Why would you resign?!”

It’s a mess. It’s a room of hysteria and panic except for you, him and Jeonghan. Seungcheol is trying his best to...understand. To not throttle you and shake you violently because why? Where did he go wrong? Has he not been treating you well enough? Did he need to compliment you more? Do you need more compensation?

Whatever the reason is, you’re looking awfully calm being the recipient of manic yells and hyperventilated cries of anguish. Jeonghan, too, is quiet. He’s just seated there, arms on the armrest, like he is in a completely different room altogether. Seungcheol narrows his eyes at him. Did he do this? Did he talk you into resigning? That bastard— how could he! Seungcheol’s heart is broken, not just once, but twice. First, from his dearest protege. Second, from his (formerly) trusted right hand man.

“Ahem.”

Before things could get worse (i.e. Soonyoung and Seokmin full-on sobbing and begging on their knees), you catch their attention. You look at them, calmly, and, with a carefully enunciated voice, begin your piece that brings all of them to silence.

“I sincerely apologize for the trouble that our personal issues have caused to SVT,” you begin, a singular glance at Jeonghan. Seungcheol bites his tongue. Traitor. Evil man. Evil jealous man. “I am well aware that my recent behavior has led to some lapses in the organization’s operations, clearly seen in the management of our latest event. We have all heard the feedback, the concerns—where things went wrong. As you have witnessed, it is quite difficult for us to separate our personal feelings from our professional work here in the org, which was the root of most of our experienced problems.”

That is not true! No one has the best work-life balance than you! Granted, there was an issue just earlier in the month, but Seungcheol can overlook that! He can overlook it as long as you take back your resignation, and take on his spot as Chairperson next semester!

“Which is exactly why I’m resigning,” you decisively say. Shit. “There were a lot of…ingredients that eventually led to the unforeseen outburst between Mr. VCI and I during one of our previous meetings. One of those ingredients was my affiliation with the organization. The rest of the details can be found in my resignation letter. Thank you for allowing me to serve thus far.”

It’s like a needle pricked most everyone in the room and left them deflated. Chan looks sunken. Even Jihoon. Minghao just looks like he’d been expecting this. Kim Mingyu looks like he cannot accept this.

So he jerks out of his seat, springing to his feet, and points an accusatory finger at Yoon Jeonghan.

“You!” Mingyu shrieks. “Say something!”

“Hyung,” Seokmin adds onto the pile. He’s choked up and about to cry. “Are you just gonna let this happen?”

For the first time since, Jeonghan finally speaks up. But his tone is…sourer than expected. “What do you want me to say?” he starts. It makes everyone jolt. “That you’ve been overworking my girlfriend since freshman year to the point that we started arguing about it because she’s been skipping meals and sleep and taking care of herself just to manage the org?”

Even you flinch. There’s an apologetic look on your face, but there’s no denial.

Jeonghan lets out a sigh. Oh, Seungcheol realizes. Oh. Oh, crap. Maybe. Maybe he and SVT had a lot more to do with your breakup that he initially thought. The workload. The shit you had to catch and bury with your bare hands whenever the org had problems, had too much to do, had one person in mind to fix up any messes made. Maybe they’ve been relying on you too much. Maybe he’s been relying on you too much and Yoon Jeonghan noticed that.

Of course Jeonghan would notice that. He’s been dating you under their nose for god knows how long. That explains why Jeonghan would suddenly act pissy towards him. It was whenever you’d been tossed in a sinkhole of work.

Once more, you clear your throat. “I have immense attachment to this organization. However, my priorities have shifted. I am sincerely grateful and sorry, but I hope all of you understand.”

It starts clicking inside each head, one-by-one. It’s slow. It’s hard to accept, but they eventually do. Seokmin eventually stops sniffling. Soonyoung stands up to give you a hug. This was a loss for all of them. All of them except you and Yoon Jeonghan.

“Hyung, but why aren’t you resigning?”

Jun pokes the bear one last time. It’s a question in all their heads, and Jeonghan’s expression alone isn’t enough to answer it.

“Jun-ah, do you want me gone?” Jeonghan replies, a little too seriously. They freeze. Then he laughs. “It’s going to be difficult to re-elect someone at this point, so I’ll be taking over some of her workload for the remainder of the semester. The rest of you should do the same as one last thank you to our now outgoing VCE. You owe her that much, at least.”

Before Jeonghan can start nagging, you quickly overtake his field of vision from his left. “Don’t worry, I’ll be finishing up my pending tasks, Mr. Chair. I will also be leaving some notes behind for everyone’s ease of—”

“What did I tell you about being more considerate to yourself?” the one from his rightbutts in. “These kids can handle it on their own. You don’t have to micromanage them. I’m begging you, stop overworking yourself.”

Okay, he sharply inhales through his nose. Seungcheol gets it. They all get it. No need to act all sweet in front of their faces and during org hours. It’s sending shivers down his spine. All of their spines. None of this spine shivering is healthy. “Please leave your resignation letter on the table. We will give some time for the other officers to read and consider it before making a final decision during the next meeting.”

You smile. “Thank you, Mr. Chair.”

“Thank you for your service, Ms. VCE.”

It hurts him to say this. It really does. You were the perfect successor. Now, who the hell from this pile of twelve men is he supposed to pick to be the next Chairperson? Does he have to— god forbid— retain his position?

Seungcheol lets out a sigh.

“Meeting adjourned. You are all dismissed.”

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