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forgottenfourr · 2 months ago

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can u guys tell my teamies hyperfixation go crazy (they’ve been my hyperfixation since 2022) (they’re a special interest atp)

Match Made in 'Why Not?' Ft. Best Friend!Jo

A/n: Don't ask. Idk how the title came about 😭 I wrote that cause I'm simply running out of good ideas.

Genre: Matchmaker au, bestfriends-to-lovers, fluff, romance

Pairings: bestfriend!Jo x matchmaker!Eri (fem oc)

Warnings: None really

“Jo!” Mrs. Aoyama greeted as she opened the door, stepping aside to let him in. “She’s still asleep, as usual.”

Jo smiled, already kicking off his shoes like it was second nature. “Of course she is.”

He didn’t need an invitation. He never did. Their moms had been best friends since college, and Jo and Eri had practically been raised in each other’s houses. He knew where the mugs were, what time the hot water took to boil, and which floorboard in the hallway creaked. At this point, her house felt as much his as his own.

“She was up late with that group project,” her mom added, waving him down the hall. “Go wake her up. And don’t be too soft—she’ll just go right back to sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jo said with a grin, heading down the familiar hallway.

Eri’s bedroom door was cracked open. He pushed it gently and peeked in.

There she was—dead asleep, sprawled diagonally across the bed with her hair in a wild mess and her arm hanging off the side. A quiet snore escaped her lips.

He laughed softly to himself. “Unbelievable.”

Without hesitation, he walked over and jumped onto the bed beside her, making the mattress bounce.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said, nudging her shoulder. “We have class.”

Eri groaned, curling into herself. “I’m tired. Go without me.”

Jo sat up and yanked the blanket off her in one motion. “Nope. You promised me pudding today. Not risking you ghosting me.”

She cracked one eye open, glaring at him halfheartedly. “You’re seriously waking me up for pudding?”

“You said you’d buy it. That makes it legally binding.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“And yet,” he grinned, “you still love me.”

She mumbled something into the pillow.

He nudged her again, gentler this time. “Come on. Campus needs its sweetheart. Let’s go look good in lecture together.”

Jo chuckled as she finally shifted, holding out her hand toward him without even lifting her head.

“Help me up,” she muttered, eyes still half-closed.

He rolled his eyes but took her hand anyway, tugging her upright. “Drama queen,” he teased.

“Loyal servant,” she shot back, smirking sleepily.

She pushed him lightly in the chest. “Now get out so I can change and wash up.”

Jo stood, hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Try not to fall asleep standing in the shower.”

“Can’t promise that.”

He closed the door behind him and waited in the living room, already scrolling through his phone like this was the most routine part of his day—which, honestly, it kind of was.

Twenty minutes later, Eri emerged—fresh-faced, hair brushed, uniform neat but still giving off that effortlessly sweet vibe she was known for. Jo stood and tossed her something from his jacket pocket.

She caught it instinctively. “Candy?”

“You like those honey ones,” he said casually. “Also,” he added, handing her a canned drink from his other pocket, “thought you might skip breakfast again.”

Eri blinked, then smiled wide. “Thanks.”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “You’d do it for me.”

They walked side by side onto campus, the early sun stretching long shadows behind them. People waved at them as they passed—some calling out to Jo, others to Eri, a few to both. It was like watching the sun and moon stroll in together: perfectly balanced, perfectly unaware of how much they lit up the place.

At the main building, they paused.

“Different classes this morning,” Jo said, stepping back.

“Mm. See you at lunch?”

“Only if you bring pudding.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re so hung up on that.”

“You made a promise,” he grinned. “I’m a man of principle.”

Eri laughed, waving as she turned to go. “See you later, you ridiculous man of principle.”

Jo watched her go, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

He really had no idea when she became his favorite part of every day.

Jo left first, tossing a lazy wave over his shoulder as he headed off toward his building. Eri watched him go for a second longer than necessary before turning toward her own path.

But she barely took two steps before a voice chimed in beside her.

“Excuse me—are you an art major?”

Eri turned and found a girl standing there, dressed in the same uniform but with a perfectly ironed collar and a carefully calculated smile.

“Yup, I am,” Eri replied warmly.

The girl smiled wider. “Great! I thought I recognized your face. I’m Kimiko. I’m new—just transferred here.”

“Oh! Welcome.” Eri’s smile brightened. “I’m Eri. I was just heading to class, we can go together if you want?”

Kimiko’s eyes lit up. “I’d love that.”

They started walking down the path that curved toward the art building, the morning light cutting through the trees overhead.

“So,” Kimiko said casually, “the guy you were talking to just now—who is he? Your boyfriend?”

Eri blinked, then laughed. “No, no. That’s Jo. He’s my best friend.”

“Ah,” Kimiko said, nodding slowly. “Makes sense. He’s cute.”

Eri smiled at that, brushing some hair behind her ear. “Yeah, he gets that a lot.”

Kimiko glanced sideways at her. “I can see why.”

By the time their first class ended, Eri had already learned a handful of things about Kimiko: she was from another city, liked painting over sketching, preferred green tea to coffee, and had a fondness for romantic movies. She was easy to talk to, polite, and had that kind of quiet, sweet energy that mirrored Eri’s own.

They sat next to each other again in the second class, chatting between notes and laughing softly over the professor's dry jokes. By the time the lunch bell rang, Kimiko was already linking their arms like they'd known each other for longer than just a morning.

“Want to eat together?” Kimiko asked hopefully.

Eri smiled. “Sure. I usually eat with Jo and our friends though—they might already be waiting at the cafeteria.”

“Even better,” Kimiko said, eyes glinting with something Eri didn’t quite catch. “I’d love to meet more people.”

—

Meanwhile, in another building on campus…

Jo slung his bag over one shoulder, grinning as he waved goodbye to a few classmates. “Later, guys.”

He was already checking his phone as he headed toward the cafeteria. No texts from Eri, but that wasn’t unusual. She probably got caught up chatting or sketching again. Still, he picked up his pace a little. Lunch with her was the best part of his day.

“Jo!” a voice called behind him.

He turned to see Taki jogging over, Harua trailing right behind with his usual calm expression.

“Hey,” Jo greeted, bumping fists with Taki.

“Heading to the cafeteria?” Harua asked.

“Yup. You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” Taki said, then casually added, “I saw Eri with another girl earlier.”

Jo raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Must be a new friend.”

“She was kinda clingy,” Taki added, making a vague gesture. “New girl. Brown hair, pretty smile.”

Harua gave Jo a side glance. “That your type?”

Jo shrugged. “I don’t really have one.”

But his mind wandered anyway—Eri had made a new friend? That was good. He smiled faintly to himself.

๋ ࣭ ⭑

The cafeteria was already buzzing when Jo and the guys stepped in, the smell of curry rice and fried chicken hanging in the air. As they wove through the crowd, Jo’s gaze swept toward their usual corner—and paused.

There she was.

Eri, waving brightly with her usual lunch tray in front of her, but not alone.

Next to her sat the girl Taki had mentioned—Kimiko. Pretty, polished, and smiling just a little too perfectly.

“Huh?” Jo muttered under his breath, slowing his steps.

Taki and Harua noticed it too.

“She’s already sitting with her,” Harua noted.

Jo frowned slightly. Lunch was… their thing. Their circle was small—tight-knit. Familiar. Eri, him, Taki, Harua, and sometimes Maki when he wasn’t running across campus for lab work. And now, suddenly, there was a new face in their spot.

Eri waved again as they approached. “You’re here!”

Taki and Harua slid into their usual spots across from her. Jo took the seat next to Eri, slower than usual.

“I was waiting for you,” she said with a smile, grabbing her wallet. “I’ll go get your pudding now.”

Before she got up, she gestured to the girl beside her. “This is Kimiko. She’s new, we’re in the same classes. Be nice, okay?”

And with that, she was off toward the vending machines, leaving the three boys alone with Kimiko.

Kimiko turned to them with a polite smile. “It’s nice to meet you guys. You’re Jo, right?” Her eyes lingered on him just a bit longer than what felt casual. “Eri mentioned you earlier.”

Jo gave her a small nod. “Yeah. Good to meet you.”

Taki leaned his chin into his hand, watching her. “I’m Taki. That’s Harua.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she said, but again, her gaze drifted quickly back to Jo.

Taki’s brows furrowed slightly. Her tone was sweet, but there was something in the way she said Jo’s name. Too light, too focused—like she was playing a part, trying to make a good impression… on one person specifically.

Harua stayed silent, just watching with that unreadable calm of his.

Jo, on the other hand, didn’t say much either. He wasn’t exactly rude, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He was happy Eri had made a friend. He really was.

He just… didn’t want everything to change.

Turns out, Jo was completely wrong.

Because in the following weeks, Kimiko didn’t just hover around Eri—she infiltrated.

She was at their lunch table almost every day now, always perched a little too close, always laughing a little too loudly at Jo’s dry jokes, and always offering to help plan every group meet-up like she'd been part of the crew for years.

"Should we do karaoke this weekend? Or a beach trip! Ooh, maybe something overnight?" she chirped one lunch, already pulling up a group chat she had somehow gotten herself added into.

Jo sipped his drink and said nothing, gaze fixed on the way Kimiko subtly cut off Eri when she was about to suggest something quieter. Eri just smiled, as always, giving way with that sweet, selfless grace that made Jo’s jaw tighten.

He hated it.

Kimiko was like a pebble in his shoe—small enough to seem harmless, but always there.

And the others felt it too.

It was during a rare boys-only weekend at Taki’s place—pizza boxes stacked high and a video game paused on screen—when the truth finally cracked through the surface.

Harua had been silent for a while before speaking.

“I don’t like her,” he said simply, tossing a controller aside.

Jo looked up. “Who?”

“Kimiko.”

Taki leaned back on the couch, folding his arms. “Finally. I thought it was just me.”

“She always talks like she’s in charge,” Harua added. “And she’s always trying to isolate Eri. You noticed that?”

Jo had. All too clearly.

Taki groaned. “And she acts fake as hell around you, Jo. It’s like she only acknowledges the rest of us when you’re not paying attention.”

Jo stayed quiet, chewing the inside of his cheek.

It wasn’t just them either.

Even Maki—who was rarely around due to his demanding major —had muttered the same thing when he dropped by during a group hangout last week.

“Something’s off about that girl,” he’d said under his breath while grabbing a soda from the fridge. “She’s all smiles but it feels… staged. I don’t like it.”

And now here they were, all four of them in silent agreement.

Jo didn’t say it out loud, but a part of him hated how easy it had been for Kimiko to slip into their circle. How she seemed to understand exactly how to move around Eri—never obviously rude, but just subtle enough to chip away at their rhythm.

He missed how it used to be.

Before things got noisy.

Before things got… complicated.

—

The morning sun filtered through the trees as Eri and Kimiko strolled down the path toward the art building. Their bags hung loosely on their shoulders, the air filled with casual conversation about class deadlines and which vending machine had the best sandwiches.

Then, just as they passed the fountain, Kimiko slowed her steps and glanced at Eri, her voice dropping slightly.

“Hey… can I tell you something?”

Eri turned her head. “Sure.”

Kimiko gave a shy little smile, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I think Jo might like me.”

Eri blinked. “Huh?”

Her mind stumbled. That thought had never—ever—crossed her mind. Jo? Liking Kimiko?

It didn’t fit. It didn’t feel right.

But before she could even form a response, Kimiko pressed on.

“I mean, the way he looks at me sometimes? And how he listens when I talk, even if he doesn’t say much. I just… I feel it, you know?”

Eri opened her mouth to speak, but Kimiko kept going, her voice turning almost giddy.

“And I was thinking… you’re his best friend. He listens to you. Maybe you could help me out? Just a little. Drop a hint? Bring me up in conversation?”

Eri hesitated, smile wavering for the first time.

She didn’t know what to say.

Because her first thought—instinctively—was no, he didn’t like Kimiko. Not like that. Not even close. Jo had always been polite, but distant. Guarded. Especially around people he didn’t click with.

But then again… what did she know?

Maybe she was just biased. Maybe she didn’t want to see it.

Kimiko’s eyes sparkled with expectation. “Please, Eri? You’d know if he likes someone, right?”

Eri hesitated—then nodded.

“Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll… I’ll try.”

Because Jo was her person. Her ride-or-die. If he really did like Kimiko—if there was even the slightest chance—then who was she to stand in the way of his happiness?

Even if the idea left a weird feeling in her chest.

Even if Kimiko’s eagerness felt just a little too sharp, a little too rushed.

She smiled anyway, pushing the discomfort down.

“Sure. I’ll help.”

๋ ࣭ ⭑

The sun was beginning to dip as Jo and Eri walked side by side down the familiar path toward the parking lot. The air smelled faintly of cut grass, and their shadows stretched long behind them. Eri’s steps were light, like she was excited about something, while Jo just carried both their bags like he always did when she was too tired to argue.

“You know,” Eri started, swinging her arms a little. “I was thinking about something today.”

Jo glanced at her, brow lifting slightly. “Yeah?”

“Kimiko,” she said brightly.

Immediately, Jo’s shoulders tensed—but he said nothing.

“She’s really pretty,” Eri went on, smiling. “Smart, confident, stylish… Honestly, she’s perfect for you.”

Jo blinked. “Huh?”

She nodded, looking completely sincere. “Like, I don’t know why I didn’t think about it before. You two would look great together. And she really seems into you.”

He didn’t say anything.

Because what could he say? His chest felt tight and his jaw ticked slightly, but he kept his expression as neutral as ever.

“Eri…” he started, but she kept going, so hopeful it made his stomach twist.

“And I think… maybe you should go on a date with her?”

Jo stopped walking.

Eri took a few steps before realizing and turned to face him.

“What?” she asked, confused.

He scratched the back of his neck, eyes cast slightly downward. “You think I should… date Kimiko?”

Eri looked at him with a bright, encouraging smile. “Yeah! I mean, she’s into you, and you’re both great people. It’s worth a shot, right?”

For a second, Jo said nothing.

Then he forced a tiny, crooked smile—one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“…Right,” he said quietly. “If you think so.”

Because if she was this sure—if Eri thought he and Kimiko would work—then who was he to argue?

Even if his heart was screaming no.

Even if the idea of going on a date with Kimiko made him feel nothing but… off.

Even if every time he pictured “the perfect girl,” it wasn’t Kimiko at all.

It was the one currently smiling at him like she didn’t even know she already had his whole heart.

๋ ࣭ ⭑

Jo hated everything about today.

From the moment he stepped into the cafeteria, Kimiko had latched onto his arm like a vine. Her fingers were looped around his wrist like she owned it, and her laugh was loud—too loud—as she leaned into him with every step.

She’d said something about his hair looking "hot like that" and then ranted for a good ten minutes about how they should totally go to the movies sometime—"just us"—while Jo internally begged the universe for mercy.

What he hated more?

The fact that Eri, Taki, and Harua had all mysteriously decided to leave them alone today.

She made this happen.

He sat across from Kimiko now, trying to focus on his food, nodding at her nonstop chatter about how they’d make such a good couple and how people already assumed they were dating. Her knee kept brushing his under the table.

He wanted to be anywhere but here.

—

Meanwhile, on the bleachers by the field, Eri sat with her lunch half-eaten beside her as she watched from afar.

Taki popped the cap off his drink and raised an eyebrow. “Why are you playing matchmaker for them?”

Eri exhaled, long and tired. “Maybe Jo wants it?”

Taki snorted. “Yeah. Jo totally looks like he’s loving his life right now.”

Harua let out a low sigh, poking at his bento with a chopstick. “You didn’t answer the real question though.”

Eri blinked. “Which one?”

Taki turned to her fully. “Why are you letting Kimiko boss you around like that?”

Harua nodded. “She’s all over Jo and she talks to you like you’re her assistant.”

Eri waved them off, forcing a small laugh. “You guys are overanalyzing. She’s just… really confident. And I mean, she did say she liked Jo, and I thought maybe he could—”

“Eri,” Taki cut in flatly. “He doesn’t like her.”

Harua nodded again, quietly but firmly. “And she doesn’t treat you like a friend. She treats you like a tool.”

Eri’s shoulders stiffened at that, the words settling heavy in her chest.

She looked back toward the cafeteria windows, where she could barely make out Jo’s silhouette. He was leaning slightly away from Kimiko, face turned to the side like he was anywhere but there.

Her stomach twisted.

And for the first time since this all started, doubt crept in.

—

After classes, the sky was turning a dusty orange as Eri and Jo walked together, her steps slower than usual. There was a quiet tension hanging between them, the kind that came not from anger but uncertainty.

“Hey,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

Jo glanced over. “Hm?”

“I wanted to ask you something.” She looked ahead, biting her lip. “Do you really… like Kimiko? Or are you just going along with it because I said something?”

Jo blinked, caught off guard. His heart gave a small thump at the way her voice held genuine concern.

“I just…” she trailed off. “I feel like I’m forcing you or something. And that’s not fair.”

Jo, who would walk through fire if she asked, who could never bring himself to make her feel like she’d done anything wrong—just smiled gently and shook his head.

“No,” he said, voice soft. “You’re not forcing me.”

Eri studied him. She could tell something was off. “You sure? Taki and Harua both said you totally don’t like her.”

Jo scratched the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly. “They’re just overanalyzing like always.”

That made her smile. “Good. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Jo didn’t say anything to that. He couldn’t. But something about the way her smile calmed him down almost made him believe it was all fine.

Almost.

—

Later that night, curled up at home, Eri was on the phone with Taki and Harua, relaying what Jo had said.

“He said he does like Kimiko,” she told them.

Taki was silent for a moment before scoffing. “He’s totally lying.”

Harua’s voice came next, calm but direct. “Eri, Jo’s always been soft-spoken. You know he’d do anything for you. That’s why he’s saying it.”

Eri opened her mouth to respond, but her phone buzzed with another call.

“It’s Kimiko,” she muttered. “I’ll talk to you guys later.”

—

Switching lines, she greeted, “Hey, Kimiko.”

“Eriii!” Kimiko chirped, loud and sugary. “Omg, Jo is, like, so obsessed with me. He totally didn’t even stop me from holding his arm today. You saw, right?”

Eri blinked. “Uh… yeah.”

“So!” Kimiko continued in a rush. “You have to set up a date for us. Tomorrow. I want something cute and spontaneous!”

Eri hesitated. “But… we have class tomorrow and he doesn't like missing class.”

Kimiko pouted through the phone. “But Eri… You know how important this is to me. Don’t you want me to be happy? You’re the only one who really understands.”

Eri felt her resolve waver, Kimiko’s tone slipping between whiny and guilt-trippy so smoothly she didn’t even register it.

“…Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll set something up.”

“Yay! I knew I could count on you! You're seriously the best.”

The line cut.

—

Back on the phone with Taki and Harua, Eri sighed and explained what happened.

“You agreed?” Taki said flatly. “We have class tomorrow.”

“She really wanted to,” Eri mumbled, twirling the phone cord. “And maybe Jo will like it too.”

“You’re doing a lot of ‘maybe’s for a guy who clearly doesn’t want this,” Taki muttered.

“Seriously,” Harua added. “You’re smart, Eri. Don’t let her wrap you around her finger just because she talks fast and acts sweet. She’s not your friend.”

Eri stared at the ceiling, suddenly unsure all over again.

“…But I already told her I’d do it.”

—

Eri sat cross-legged on her bed, phone pressed to her ear, nervously twirling a strand of her hair.

“I, um… talked to Kimiko,” she said gently.

“Yeah?” Jo’s voice came through, a little wary.

“She wants to go out with you tomorrow. Like… a real date.”

Jo was quiet. Horribly quiet. On his side of the line, his heart sank to his stomach.

“Jo,” she said quickly, “you don’t have to. I told her you have class. I told her you probably wouldn’t want to. I said—”

“I’ll go,” he interrupted, and his tone was light, almost casual.

But his hands were clenched into fists in his lap.

“You… sure?” she asked, her voice unsure. “I mean, I know this is sudden, and you don’t even know her that well, and—”

“I’m sure,” he said, even though he wasn’t. Not at all. But on the other end of the line, he could already picture her sad eyes and that soft guilt-ridden smile she always wore when she thought she’d done something wrong.

That image alone was enough to crush his reluctance.

“If you say it’ll be good for me, then I’ll go,” he added.

Eri’s heart softened. “...Okay.”

—

The next morning felt off.

Her mom didn’t knock on her door and call out, “Jo’s here!” like she usually did.

No Jo slipping into her room without ceremony, no warm “Hey, sleepyhead, we have class�� from the edge of her bed.

The silence echoed louder than any alarm clock.

She sat up slowly, blinking at the empty space beside her. It was strange—unfamiliar, almost cold. Her routine, the one she’d known since forever, was broken. And it felt heavier than she thought it would.

It’s fine, she told herself as she got ready. His happiness comes first. If this date makes him happy, then I should be happy too.

But the smile she forced on her face felt weak, like it could crack at any moment.

—

Walking to college alone was… weirder than she expected.

Every block without Jo beside her felt twice as long. Every corner turned felt like something was missing.

And when she reached campus and entered the building, the absence of his voice, his candy from his jacket, his usual “don’t fall asleep in class” reminder—it all left a hollow ache in her chest.

He’d never missed class before.

We’ve never missed class. Not together, she thought, heart sinking.

As the day dragged on, her mind kept drifting back to everything—the way Jo looked quietly uncomfortable every time Kimiko clung to his arm, how he always had a delayed pause when Kimiko spoke to him directly, and how his smiles never quite reached his eyes anymore.

And Kimiko…

The way she had barged into their lives, full of sparkle and flattery and high-pitched enthusiasm, like she’d always belonged.

The way she’d latched onto Jo the moment she saw him.

The way she’d made Eri her errand girl in a matter of days—asking her to do things, assuming she would, and smiling sweetly even as she talked over her.

Eri stopped mid-step in the corridor.

She remembered how she hadn’t even been the one to offer to help with Jo. Kimiko had asked—no, pushed—for her to do it. And Eri, ever the sweetheart, ever the people-pleaser, had just… gone with it.

Now Jo was missing class. Their routine was broken. And for what?

For a girl who barely knew them, who acted like she owned their friendship from the start.

For the first time, Eri felt a stab of guilt—not over disappointing Kimiko, but over letting it go this far.

Over putting Jo through something he didn’t want.

Over not listening to the part of herself that had known something felt off from the beginning.

And now?

Now it might’ve been too late.

๋ ࣭ ⭑

Jo sat at a corner booth in the café, stirring his drink absently. The ticking clock on the wall felt louder than usual, every passing second dragging the moment closer to the conversation he knew he needed to have.

Just get through it, then tell her. Be honest. Clear. Kind, but firm.

He could hear Eri’s voice in his head—“If you don’t like someone, it’s better to be honest than to lead them on.”

That thought alone made his chest ache. If I was going to skip class for anyone, he thought, it should’ve been Eri. I would’ve actually liked that.

He pictured it: Eri in a cozy cardigan, her hair softly tied up with a little ribbon like she always wore, eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled at the pastries.

That’s a date I’d actually show up early for.

Just then, the bell above the door chimed.

Jo looked up—and any trace of a polite smile instantly vanished from his face.

Kimiko stood at the entrance, waving a little too enthusiastically before making her way over. Her outfit was… suspiciously familiar. A cream-colored blouse with a lace collar, a flared skirt with soft pleats, dainty earrings. Even her hair was done up in a loose ribbon.

Like she had Googled “sweet girl aesthetic” and plastered it on.

Except, on her, it looked try-hard. The lace too stiff, the bow too shiny. It didn’t feel natural. It didn’t feel her.

And worst of all, it was obvious who she was trying to emulate.

Jo’s jaw clenched.

She sat down with a dramatic sigh. “I was so nervous picking this outfit. But I think it turned out cute, right?”

He gave a noncommittal hum and sipped his drink.

As she babbled about how she’d picked a café that matched her “soft aesthetic” and how she loved vintage things “just like Eri,” Jo tuned out.

Because it wasn’t the same.

It wasn’t Eri.

Eri’s softness wasn’t a costume. She wasn’t trying to look sweet—she was sweet. She didn’t talk about matching the energy of a café, she just quietly brought warmth into every room she entered.

Kimiko felt like she was playing a role.

Jo stared down at the table, a small frown forming.

He didn’t want this.

He didn’t want this at all.

His thoughts drifted again—to Eri sleeping, half-buried in her blanket. Eri handing him candy from her bag with a proud grin. Eri waving at him across campus like he was the most important person in her world.

She was his favorite. He’d just never said it out loud.

Jo was just about to speak, carefully planning how to reject Kimiko when she started laughing.

"Honestly," she said with a wave of her hand, “don’t take this the wrong way, but how did Eri even get into this college? I mean, her art is like... kindergarten level. Maybe they just needed someone sweet and basic to fill in a quota or something.”

Jo froze.

His hand, resting on the table, curled into a fist.

“…What?”

Kimiko giggled like she hadn’t just committed social suicide. “Oh, don’t look so offended! I’m just joking—c’mon, you know I like Eri! I mean, sure, I’m better at art and obviously more polished, but I’m saying that with love.”

She smiled, proud of her backhanded ‘compliment.’

Jo stared at her for a moment.

Did she not realize?

Did she seriously not realize who she was talking to?

He leaned forward slightly, voice cold. “Are you seriously backbiting about Eri... to me?”

Kimiko blinked. “What? I—”

“Her best friend since before we could even speak. You’re sitting here bad-mouthing the person I’ve literally grown up with. The girl I’ve known and protected since we were in diapers. And you’re mocking her to me?”

The café went quiet. A few heads turned. Kimiko shifted uncomfortably in her seat, eyes darting.

“Jo, people are looking—”

“Let them,” he snapped. “Maybe they should see what kind of person you really are.”

She gasped slightly, caught off-guard, but he wasn’t done.

“Eri’s not a joke. You are. And since we’re being honest now,” he said, voice rising, “let’s talk about how you walked in here today dressed like you’re cosplaying as her. That blouse, the ribbon in your hair, the whole vintage 'sweet girl' act—it's not you. It’s her. But she doesn’t have to try. Eri’s always dressed like that, because it’s who she is. Not because she’s trying to impress anyone.”

Kimiko’s face paled.

Jo stood now, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You keep saying you’re prettier than her. Funny—Eri walks around with barely any makeup and still looks better than anyone else I know. You? You’re caked in it and still can't come close.”

Kimiko let out a weak laugh. “You’re being dramatic.”

He ignored it. “And don’t even get me started on art. You think you're better than her? Your art looks like you're trying to copy every trending style on the internet and failing. You wouldn’t know originality if it slapped you across the face. Eri’s work has soul. It’s hers. It’s real. And if anyone should be asking how they got into this school, it’s you. Because your work? It’s like a sixth grader who discovered watercolor last week.”

Kimiko sat there, stunned and humiliated.

Jo grabbed his bag. “I’m done. I don’t ever want to see you again. And if I do—if you so much as breathe near Eri again—I’ll make sure you regret it.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the café without another glance back, the door swinging shut behind him.

And for the first time since Kimiko showed up in their lives, Jo felt like he could finally breathe again.

๋ ࣭ ⭑

Jo ran like he was being chased by a swarm of bees—emotionally deranged bees that smelled like disappointment and wore tacky knock-off Eri outfits.

He burst into the art block like an unhinged wind, ignoring the janitor’s startled "Whoa!" and zigzagged through the corridor like it was a mission. His heart only settled when he saw the warm yellow glow of the studio light filtering through the open door.

There. Clay. Apron. Calm. Eri.

He nearly cried.

“Oh thank God,” he exhaled dramatically, stepping in like a man crawling out of a war zone.

She turned with a blink, hands covered in clay, expression confused. “Jo? What are you doing here?”

“Emergency,” he declared, walking in like he owned the studio. “There was a threat to my peace, my dignity, and also fashion as a concept.”

She raised a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

“You don’t have class?” he asked, totally ignoring the question.

“Not till later,” she said, sitting back from the clay. “So I’m just winging it here. Why are you panting like you’ve been chased?”

“Okay, so you’re winging it. Meanwhile, I was experiencing the slow death of my soul via Kimiko. I deserve compensation. And maybe cake.”

He flopped onto the stool beside her and began his tirade.

“She. Is. The. Worst.”

Eri just blinked, clearly bracing herself.

“First off, she kept calling me ‘Jojo.’” He shuddered like the name physically hurt him. “Like some kind of fluffy pocket-sized anime mascot. I’m not a plushie, Eri. I’m a man with dignity. I deserve respect.”

Eri snorted. “Jojo.”

“Don’t,” he warned. “Don’t make me fling this clay.”

“And she wouldn’t stop touching me. Like full-on glue-mode. Arm-clutching, shoulder-bumping, breathing-in-my-airspace level of physical harassment. I nearly evaporated.”

He put a hand over his chest like a dramatic heroine. “And she talked. Like, all date long. About smoothies. And outfits. And how we’re meant to be and how we should ‘double-date with you and someone hot’ and I was like??? First of all, rude. Second of all, if I double-date it better be with you and snacks.”

Eri opened her mouth but he kept going.

“And then—the final straw—she started bashing you. Said your art wasn’t even that good and wondered out loud how you even got into this college. TO. ME.”

Eri’s face dropped.

Jo stood up, pacing in front of her like he was giving a monologue on stage. “I was like, are you seriously badmouthing Eri, the person I’ve known since I was a drooling goblin in preschool? Eri, who I’ve shared crayons, ice cream, and literal hospital socks with? You’re trash-talking her to me?? You must have glue in your brain.”

He waved a hand dramatically. “She was like, ‘I’m just joking.’ Oh yeah? Well I’m just never speaking to you again. Because Eri is not a joke. You are. You’re the cosplay version of her, and not even good cosplay. You look like if someone tried to draw Eri from memory and failed.”

Eri laughed out loud at that one.

“And don’t even get me started on her makeup—look, no shame in some contour, but I swear she had enough on to frost a wedding cake. Meanwhile, you? You walk out the door with nothing but some lip balm and manage to look like a Studio Ghibli protagonist.”

He gave her a meaningful look. “And her art? Pinterest-core. Carbon copy nonsense. Yours is real. Yours has soul. She couldn’t copy you even if she used tracing paper and divine intervention.”

Eri stared at him, speechless.

He suddenly stopped, hands dropping to his sides, completely serious.

“…Wanna date?”

She blinked. “That was the weirdest love confession I’ve ever heard.”

He nodded solemnly. “And yet, somehow, still very me.”

She considered for a moment, the tiniest smirk forming. “Sure. Why not?”

Jo blinked. “Wait, actually?”

“Yeah. Just don’t ever let her call you Jojo again.”

He beamed, collapsing into the stool beside her again like a puppy granted salvation. “Deal, obviously. Jojo is dead even though he was never real. This is Jo 2.0. Officially yours.”

She giggled as he leaned his head against her shoulder, sighing in peace. Everything felt right again.

Almost like it had always been headed here from the start.

—

The day had wound down in that lazy, golden way only late afternoons could manage. After cleaning up at the studio, Jo and Eri met up with Taki and Harua by the campus gates, the sun dipping low behind them.

“Later, losers,” Taki said with a cheeky grin, slapping Jo’s back.

“Yeah, don’t get into trouble, lovebirds,” Harua added with a smirk, hands in his pockets.

Jo rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny anything—he just offered a smug little grin that made both boys groan.

“Ugh. He’s smug now,” Taki muttered. “We should’ve stopped this.”

“Too late,” Harua said as the two walked off, Taki making gagging noises behind them.

Eri and Jo lingered, their steps slower, more relaxed. The air was crisp, cool enough that she folded her arms close to her body. Jo immediately noticed.

“Oi,” he said, slipping off his jacket and gently wrapping it around her shoulders before she could protest.

She blinked, touched. “You’ll be cold.”

“I’m already warm from being your boyfriend,” he said, voice annoyingly smug.

She snorted. “Gross.”

“Correct,” he agreed proudly, before slinging his arm around her shoulder in one smooth move, pulling her closer as they walked.

“So,” he said, leaning down a bit so his words hit her ear, teasing and light, “what should we do, girlfriend?”

Eri smiled, her cheeks a little pink—not from the cold. “Hmm… how about ice cream and a movie at my place, boyfriend?”

He grinned like a kid given free reign in a candy store. “You had me at ‘ice cream.’”

They both chuckled, falling into that easy rhythm that only came from years of knowing each other—of growing together, laughing, crying, and finally realizing what had been there all along.

Wrapped in Jo’s jacket and under his arm, Eri felt like everything had finally clicked back into place.

And as they walked home together, with the last of the sun painting the sky in sleepy oranges and pinks, Jo smiled to himself, thinking:

Finally.

That's it for this one!

True story, I actually had a friend like Kimiko. Alot of ger behaviour was inspired by that one bitch. She always thought every boy had a crush on her 😭🤣🤣

Well, I hope y'all liked it 🥹

Likes and rebloggs are appreciated 🩷 ✨️

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forgottenfourr · 2 months ago

Text

an understanding. ༉‧₊˚.

prev ✮ masterlist ✮ next

wc: 1579 (sorry)

an: i haven't written in over a year pls be nice this chapter is so rough.

a soft hum of music drifted through the wishies’ apartment, blending with the gentle clinking of glasses and the distant laughter of friends reuniting. the atmosphere buzzed with warmth, but your nerves were anything but calm.

you stood by the kitchen island, fingers anxiously tracing the rim of your glass. it had been over a week since you'd last seen gyuvin, and the thought of seeing him again sent your stomach into knots. especially after the way things were left.

you kept replaying the last texts between you. it was a relief to finally know how gyuvin felt, but it also broke you—knowing just how deeply you'd hurt someone you loved.

and then there was the thing you couldn’t stop thinking about: he said he asked you out. like, really asked you out.

gyuvin had never been that guy. not the type to openly ask someone on a date, not the type to lay his feelings out so plainly. and from what you believed, you weren’t the kind of person he’d go for.

or, at least, that’s what you convinced yourself.

the front door creaked open and gyuvin walked in. immediately, you felt the shift. your eyes met his for only a second, but it was enough. a flicker of recognition, of memories too carefully tucked away. you both smiled—small, unsure.

it wasn’t the first time you'd seen each other since everything happened. but this time felt different. there was a tension, a pull. like maybe, finally, you were both ready.

you thought about going to him, but hesitated. what if it was awkward? what if he didn’t want to talk?

gyuvin drifted into conversations, occasionally glancing your way when he thought you weren’t watching.

you weren’t avoiding him. not really. there were just… distractions. friends you hadn’t seen in forever. anton dragging you from person to person, reintroducing you to what felt like half the party.

you ended up standing in the kitchen with seunghan, matthew, and anton. or more like observing—matthew was on a tangent with seunghan while you and anton hung back.

anton nudged your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts. “you good, ynnie?”

you gave a faint smile. “yeah. just a little tired.”

he narrowed his eyes. “you sure? ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him all night.”

your cheeks flushed. “i’m not avoiding him,” you mumbled. “i just haven’t had the chance.”

“yn. he’s been here for hours. you’ve had plenty of chances.”

you sighed. “well, so has he.”

anton chuckled. “okay, fair. but you know you can’t avoid each other forever, right?”

“i know. i just… don’t know what to say. like, ‘hey gyuvin, i left because i was—and still am—madly in love with you, but i was too scared to say anything because you’re my best friend and i didn’t want to ruin everything?’”

matthew, suddenly curious, turned toward you. “wait—you like someone?”

“no, i—”

anton cut in with a smirk. “yeah. his cohost.”

“anton!” you hissed, smacking his arm. your face burned as you tried to disappear into your hoodie.

matthew looked amused. “you mean my groupmate?” his voice was teasing.

you blinked. you knew he was messing with you.

before the conversation could spiral, anton set down his drink and leaned toward you. “go talk to him.”

you hesitated. “what if he doesn’t want to talk?”

anton nodded toward the hallway. gyuvin had just slipped away, murmuring something about needing air.

“now’s your chance.”

your grip on the counter tightened, knuckles pale. but then you exhaled.

you could do this.

the hallway felt longer than it should have. music faded behind you, replaced by the soft silence of plush carpet and distant murmurs. when you stepped out onto the balcony, the door creaked and gyuvin turned.

his expression softened instantly.

“hey,” he said.

“hey,” you replied, your voice thin. “mind if i join you?”

he shook his head and moved aside. you leaned on the railing next to him, eyes on the night sky.

silence fell between you. not quite comfortable, but not unbearable either.

“i wasn’t avoiding you,” you said suddenly.

gyuvin glanced your way, lips twitching. “i know.”

you bit your cheek. “i just didn’t know how to talk to you.”

“same.”

you both laughed—quiet, careful. for a moment, it felt like it used to.

but then came that pause. the one that carried everything you hadn’t said.

“i’ve been thinking about what you said,” you began, your voice trembling. “about the date. about everything.”

gyuvin looked at you, cautious but listening. “and?”

you swallowed. “i didn’t leave because i didn’t care. i left because i cared too much. because the idea of loving you and not having you love me back—it scared me.”

his brows furrowed. “ynnie…”

“i know i hurt you. and i’m sorry. but i never stopped—” your breath caught. “—i never stopped being in love with you.”

gyuvin stared at you like the world had just stopped turning.

he took a small step closer, hesitant. “why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“i was scared,” you whispered. “you’re my best friend. i didn’t want to ruin us.”

his voice softened. “you never ruined anything.”

and then, as if pulled by something beyond the both of you, gyuvin leaned in.

you did too.

the kiss was tentative. soft. nervous. but when your hand brushed his hoodie and his fingers found your cheek, something clicked. something settled.

when you pulled away, breathless, gyuvin laughed—a sound full of relief.

“i’ve wanted to do that since the café,” he said.

you smiled. “yeah?”

“yeah. and for the record, i asked you out because i meant it. not because i thought i had a chance. i just… couldn’t keep pretending.”

you leaned your head against his shoulder, heart racing.

“well,” you murmured, “maybe now you’ll believe me when i say i like you too.”

from inside, the music shifted—something slow, something sweet. you both looked toward the apartment, then back at each other.

“i should probably tell anton he was right,” you said.

gyuvin grinned, slipping his hand into yours.

“let’s give it five minutes. let him wonder.”

SYNOPSIS ✮ a company gave you the opportunity to finally live your dreams, but as a result, you had to leave the company you were at and your best friend. 2 years later you watch as he makes a name of his own on boys planet. the unrequited love you fought away for years coming back stronger than before.

taglist is open!! ༉‧₊˚.

@phtogravi @istphanie @xiaoquanquans @mins-fins @junhuilvrrr @stillalostpdf @jaehyuncocksleeve @carmesi-butterfly @haechansbbg @starchasing-cryptid @hasunelol @pleniluneg4ze @cosmic-marauder @gnusihcom @the-phantomss

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forgottenfourr · 2 months ago

Text

EVERYONE GO OVER TO MY BOYFRIENDS FIC AND SUPPORT IT 🫵

waiting to die - 2min

pairing: kim seungmin x lee minho synopsis: Simply put, Seungmin was a firm believer in the fact that he wasn’t meant to live a long life. From the moment that he could actually conceptualize what death meant, he knew that his own would be sooner rather than later. That was just how it was. wc: 2,927

Simply put, Seungmin was a firm believer in the fact that he wasn’t meant to live a long life. From the moment that he could actually conceptualize what death meant, he knew that his own would be sooner rather than later. That was just how it was.

Whenever he was asked about the future, he wasn’t able to give an answer because he just didn’t know. He never saw a future for himself. He had come to terms with it.

Now, even being 23 years old and internationally famous, he still didn’t think there was much of a future for him. He loved what he did with everything in him and even more than that he loved the people he got to experience life with.

The other members in his group had become his lifeline essentially. He had seen some of the best and worst moments with them by his side.

Nevertheless, his future was practically nonexistent.

Except for when he was with Minho.

In those moments, Seungmin felt like he could live forever. Minho brought out a life in him that he didn’t even know existed. It was sometimes overwhelming.

With Minho - he could live.

— — —

Seungmin had always been one of the members that greatly enjoyed touring. He said he liked visiting all sorts of new places with his favorite people. The band was currently in Amsterdam; a place that none of them have ever visited. Out of all the stops on this tour, this was one of the ones that Seungmin had been looking forward to the most. He’d seen tons of pictures of the city and had always wanted to experience the beauty in person.

However, they were staying there for a minimal amount of time. That meant that he wouldn’t get to see anything except for what he could watch pass by him as they traveled from the hotel to the area that they were performing in. Seungmin was more than disappointed when he found this out.

He knew that this was the case for most of the cities they stopped in. There were always some special circumstances where the company allotted for an extra day in certain cities and the boys were able to go out and explore. He had hoped that would be the case for Amsterdam.

And of course, it wasn’t.

Seungmin didn’t want to dwell on it for too long, but the disappointment only returned stronger on the first ride to the venue. They had landed the night before so he hadn’t been able to really see the city on the initial bus ride to the hotel. Now that the sun was shining in the sky, his eyes were glued to the landscape passing by. Trying to catch every small detail that he could as it flew past the window.

It only left him wanting more.

— — —

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Minnie?” Hyunjin asks, taking a seat next to him on the couch in their dressing room. “You’ve been quiet all day.”

“I think I’m just tired,” he answers with a simple shrug. He wasn’t going to sit here and complain about something that was a choice management had made. “We didn’t get to the hotel until really late and I just couldn’t seem to fall asleep either.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who had trouble sleeping.” Changbin says, joining in on their conversation. “Even after years of this, I’ve never been able to get used to sleeping in a bunch of random places. It always takes me at least one night in a place before I’m able to get a decent sleep.”

Seungmin is glad about Changbin’s intrusion on their conversation. It had taken most of the attention off of him and allowed for him to slip back into his own head. He knew it wasn’t a good thing to be doing, but he couldn’t help it.

This was one place that he had always wanted to visit and he was here. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to make it here again.

This was his one shot.

And he was watching it slip through his fingers right in front of his eyes.

Luckily, their break was over just a few minutes later. Before management had let them take a break, they had gone through all of the blocking for their performance. Now that everything regarding that was taken care of, it was time to do an actual runthrough of the show. Making sure that everyone was familiar with the placement and sizing of things on this new stage.

He couldn’t lie and say he was upset about having to do this. Although he wasn’t known as one of the main dancers in the group, he always enjoyed it. He wasn’t a fan of the gym like some of his other members were, so dancing still allowed for him to move which often helped him get out of his head when he felt like he was stuck inside of it.

This time, it helped. After running through all of the dances, he was feeling better than he had been that morning.

The group was dismissed and sent back to the dressing room to change and get ready to leave. Once they all started walking, Minho wrapped his arms around Seungmin from behind. Seungmin melted into the touch.

“Hi, puppy.” Minho greets, a small smile on his face. “I haven’t spent enough time with you today. I miss you.”

“I’ve been with you all day, hyung.” Seungmin replies with a laugh.

“Still.” Minho pouts.

“I did miss you too, though. Off the record.”

“Off the record?” Minho feigns being hurt. “I see how it is, Kim Seungmin.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

— — —

Dread builds up inside of Seungmin once again as the group finally leave the venue and back out into the city. Being inside for hours without being able to see the outside had let Seungmin almost forget where they were.

Almost.

It was enough for the good mood that dancing had put him in to fizzle away completely. Pulling his hood over his eyes, he hoped it was enough to signal to everyone else that he wasn’t really in the mood to talk.

It worked.

They made it back to the hotel without anyone saying a word to him. Until they were out of the van and back in the lobby of their hotel.

“What does everyone want to eat for dinner tonight?” Chan asked the group. “Management will go out to pick it up for us and bring it back. We are all meant to be resting tonight to prepare for our show tomorrow. That means no late nights.”

They all knew that by now. They got this speech the night before every single show that they had on this tour.

“That includes you too, Chan hyung.” Felix says, making some of the other members laugh.

As the rest of the boys got into a strangely heated discussion about what they should order to eat, Seungmin found himself standing back a bit from the rest of the group.

If he was being honest, he wasn’t really in the mood to eat and the sound of everything they were mentioning was making him feel sick to his stomach.

Seungmin hadn’t even noticed how Minho had also migrated away from the rest of the group and was now standing next to him.

“Have they said anything that you think sounds good?” Minho asks him quietly.

He knew that he was being really obvious. He was only ever this quiet when he was feeling bad. And Minho could read him like a book. He somehow always knew how Seungmin was feeling even when Seungmin didn’t have the words to describe it. He didn’t understand how, but Minho just got him.

Minho made him feel seen.

“Not really.”

“Not even one of the things they’ve said has sounded any good to you?”

“No. I’m not really hungry.” He adds a shrug to make it seem like a complete non-problem but Minho knows him better than that.

“You have to eat, you know.” Minho points out. “Even if it isn’t a lot.”

“I will, hyung.” He hopes that it’s enough to convince Minho. He hates lying to his members. Especially Minho. But, the one thing he hates more than lying to his members is talking about how he feels.

“Good.”

At some point, the dinner discussion comes to an end. Seungmin assumed the rest of the group had made a decision but he didn’t really care enough to ask. They’re all instructed to go up to their rooms and that one of the managers will bring them their food.

For this tour, everyone had been getting their own rooms at each of the hotels they stayed at. Seungmin was glad about that. He enjoyed spending time with his members but when they’re on tour and around each other practically 24/7, it could get overwhelming.

The second the door shuts behind him, Seungmin is engulfed into silence. He knows that his thoughts are still in the beginning stages of a spiral but he decides to ignore it and hope it doesn’t get worse.

He is laying on his bed just staring at the ceiling when he hears a knock on the door. The sound instantly snaps him out of his head. He lays there for a moment before finally getting up to see who is at the door. It was the manager, with his food. He should have expected it but he had forgotten that he was also getting food.

He had no idea what it was and also had absolutely no intention of opening it. Setting it on the desk, he goes to the back down on the bed.

— — —

Knock.

Seungmin has no idea how much time has passed since he had been given his food. The moment he had laid back on the bed, the rest of the world melted away and it was just Seungmin alone with his thoughts. Wondering just how much of his life was in his own control. How he could be living his literal dream and still spend his days just waiting to die. How he was letting his time waste away.

Knock.

The knocking resumes to remind him that there really is someone at his door. Groaning, he pulls his body up to go see who is out there.

The second he pulls the door open to see, Minho is walking past him and into his room. Accepting his fate, and also not really minding, Seungmin just shuts the door and follows Minho into his own room.

“You didn’t eat.” Minho immediately points out.

“It hasn’t been too long. I was saving it for later.” Seungmin hates how easily the lie rolls off his tongue.

“Min, it’s been almost two hours.”

Oh.

Had he really lost that much time in his own head?

He stays silent, not knowing how much of what he just realized that he wants to admit to Minho.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve been quiet all day and now you’re not eating.” There’s no trace of any accusatory tone to Minho’s voice. Only genuine concern. “Are you okay, Seungmin?”

He doesn’t have an answer to that question.

If he did, however, it would probably be no.

“Please talk to me. I want to help.”

“It’s stupid.” Seungmin says before he can stop himself.

“It’s not.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“I don’t but I’ve never seen you like this. So…upset.” Minho continues. “There’s something that is bothering you and if it’s bothering you this bad then nothing about it is stupid.”

Seungmin is silent for a few moments.

“This is the city I’ve always wanted to visit most.” He starts. “Ever since I was little and saw pictures of it, I was in love. It always seemed so far away though and I always assumed that I would never be able to visit. Now I’m here.”

He pauses for a second and Minho remains quiet, not wanting to deter Seungmin from saying anything he might want to.

“I don’t even get to actually see it. Besides this hotel, the airport, and the stupid fucking venue. I get to see it from the windows of the vans. I get to see glimpses in the few moments they let us outside. I’m here for the first, and probably last, time and I don’t even get to see anything.”

“We can always come back here. Sometime after Stray Kids or maybe even on a break.”

That could be years from now before they get enough time to come back to a country that is on a completely different continent.

Did Seungmin even have years to wait?

“What if there isn’t a later?” he asks so quietly that he isn’t even sure that Minho heard him.

“There is a right now.” Minho points out. “What if we went to explore? Just me and you. Right now.”

“I would like that a lot.”

— — —

The cool air against Seungmin’s face feels refreshing. Minho’s hand in his feels warm against the brisk night. The storm cloud that had been over Seungmin all day started to fade away.

Seungmin wasn’t sure that he and Minho would be able to pull it off so he hadn’t let himself get his hopes up too high. But here they were. Outside of the hotel and in the streets of Amsterdam.

Finally.

“Where do you want to go first?” Minho asks him.

“I want to go find one of the canals.” Seungmin answers without hesitation. “They’ve been some of my favorite pictures I’ve seen. They look so pretty during the day. I’m sure they look even better at night when they’re being lit up by the streetlights.”

“Then off to the canals we go!” Minho says with a laugh. “You’re really cute when you get excited like that.”

Even in the dim lighting coming from the lights above them, Minho can see the blush that paints Seungmin’s cheeks.

Despite having no idea where he’s supposed to be going, Minho leads Seungmin through the streets of Amsterdam. Everything is quiet and there is very little life in the city. Considering that it was nearly 2am by the time that the two had managed to sneak past the security that was placed on their hall for them.

Seungmin didn’t mind though. In fact, he relished in the fact that it felt like he and Minho were the only people in the world.

Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to find a canal. Minho knew vaguely that they were all over the city so they were bound to find at least one.

To Seungmin, it was even more breathtaking than he had been expecting it to be. The specific part of the canals that they had found had a bridge that was decorated with a string of lights. The lights reflecting off of the water made it even more beautiful.

Minho was also enjoying the sights but he was enjoying just watching Seungmin a whole lot more. The boy looked like the happiest and most carefree person and knowing that Minho was the one who helped in letting him feel that way made Minho’s heart flutter.

The two ended up walking wherever their feet decided to take them, absolutely no destination in mind. Minho wanted to show Seungmin as much of the city as they could possibly see before they had to head back.

Their hands stayed intertwined the whole time, neither of them mentioning it but both of them liking it.

Seungmin was taking loads of pictures of everything he saw. Minho snapped a few too but most of the pictures he took were of Seungmin. There was one that he took where Seungmin’s eyes were literally shining with the lights from all around him. In each picture that Minho took, Seungmin looked fully and completely happy.

The two decided to sit on a bench, overlooking a new part of the canal, to give themselves a little bit of a break.

“Thank you, hyung.” Seungmin says, looking over at Minho. “Really. This is everything that I have ever dreamed of and it wouldn’t have happened without you.”

“Now you know what you’re in for when we come back to actually spend time here.” Minho replies. “Just me and you again.”

“Do you mean that?”

For the first time in his life, Seungmin is able to imagine himself in the future. Him and Minho. Walking around the city during the day, still hand in hand. Him and Minho getting food from one of the many restaurants that they had passed. Him and Minho visiting the museums that Seungmin had read about countless times.

Him and Minho.

Here.

Together.

In the future.

“I mean it Seungmin. There is nothing more I want than to be able to take you back here.” Minho’s voice is filled with sincerity.

He means it.

“I would love that.” Seungmin says, his voice a whisper.

“Good.” Minho smiles at him. “It’s a date then, Kim Seungmin.”

For the first time ever, Seungmin finds something to live for. Someone to live for. He sees himself, years in the future, here with Minho. He sees him and all of his band members together as they grow older.

Most importantly, he sees himself.

He sees a future for himself.

Kim Seungmin is going to live to see the day that he and Minho come back here together. Even if it kills him.

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