Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hyunjin wasn’t expecting to fall in love at 10 a.m. on a Wednesday, but there he was—half-asleep, clutching a banana milk, and suddenly witnessing what he could only describe as a golden-haired angel tripping over a suitcase.

“Who is that?” Hyunjin whispered, poking Chan in the ribs with the straw of his banana milk.

“That’s Felix,” Chan said, unfazed. “From Australia.”

“Felix,” Hyunjin repeated dreamily, staring as the newcomer scrambled up, mumbling in English and dusting off his pants.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Chan warned. “He barely speaks Korean.”

That was fine. Hyunjin didn’t need words. He had vibes.

Ten minutes later, Hyunjin was standing directly in front of Felix in the practice room. The rest of the trainees had politely moved to the edges of the room, sensing that whatever was about to happen could only be described as a public trainwreck.

Hyunjin pushed his hair back, looked deeply into Felix’s eyes, and said in his most charming voice, “Hi. I’m Hyunjin. You are very…sparkly.”

Felix blinked. “Uhhh…thank you?”

“You speak Korean!” Hyunjin gasped, dramatically clasping his chest.

Felix laughed nervously. “No. I mean, yes? A little? Not—wait—what did you say again?”

Hyunjin pointed at Felix’s face. “Sparkly,” he repeated.

Felix tilted his head. “Spark… like glitter?”

Hyunjin panicked. “No! I mean yes—but like angel glitter . From heaven.” He gestured wildly, knocking over a water bottle that splashed straight onto his sock.

Chan groaned from the side. “Oh my god. This is painful.”

Felix looked confused but pleased. “Angel glitter?”

Hyunjin nodded furiously. “You fell from the sky. Boom.” He slapped the air for emphasis. “Straight into my heart.”

Felix blinked again. “…Boom?”

“BOOM,” Hyunjin said louder, just in case volume helped with translation.

Felix blinked a third time, then broke into a wide grin. “Boom.”

Hyunjin melted.

Later that afternoon, Hyunjin tried to show Felix around the dorm.

“This is the kitchen,” he said, pointing. “Eat. Food. Rice.”

Felix nodded. “Food. Rice. Okay!”

“This is the bathroom,” Hyunjin continued. “Shower. Soap. No poop in shower.”

Felix gave a thumbs up. “No poop!”

“Good!” Hyunjin cheered.

Chan walked by, stared at them for a long moment, then shook his head and kept walking.

“This is my room,” Hyunjin said, opening the door dramatically like he was revealing a grand palace. It was, in fact, just a bunk bed, a dying plant, and a poster of Taemin.

Felix stepped in carefully. “Wow. Cozy.”

“You can sit.” Hyunjin patted his bed. “But only you.”

Felix sat.

Hyunjin sat too.

They stared at each other.

Hyunjin smiled.

Felix smiled.

Then Felix sneezed. Violently.

Hyunjin, startled, screamed and fell backwards off the bed.

Felix leapt up. “Oh no! Hyung—okay?!”

Hyunjin’s legs stuck out from behind the bed frame. “I’m fine! This is fine! Love is pain!”

The next day, Felix accidentally said “I am a toaster” during roll call.

Hyunjin clapped like a seal. “He’s perfect,” he whispered to Jisung.

Jisung frowned. “You mean he meant to say ‘trainee’ and said ‘toaster’ instead?”

“Yes,” Hyunjin sighed. “He toasts my heart.”

By the end of the week, Felix still didn’t understand half of what Hyunjin said, and Hyunjin still used body language like he was auditioning for Mime Idol , but somehow it worked.

Hyunjin would point at a practice move and shout, “Faster, like ninja!” and Felix would nod, grin, and do a triple spin even though they were supposed to be learning a ballad.

Felix would accidentally use random Korean phrases he learned from TV dramas, like “I will protect you!” when offering Hyunjin a water bottle.

Hyunjin cried the first time that happened.

“I think I’m in love,” he told Chan, sniffling.

“You’ve known him for five days,” Chan replied flatly.

“Five magical days,” Hyunjin corrected.

On the sixth day, Felix looked at Hyunjin across the dance room and said in careful, practiced Korean:

“You are…my favorite…toast.”

Hyunjin’s soul teleported to another universe.

>>>>>>>

Chapter Text

Hyunjin had a new mission.

After Felix called him his “favorite toast,” Hyunjin decided one thing: this boy deserves to learn Korean—the right way.

And by “right,” Hyunjin meant with a sprinkle of drama, a lot of miscommunication, and at least one sexy eyebrow raise per lesson.

“Okay,” Hyunjin said seriously, slamming a whiteboard down in front of Felix, who was eating yogurt with chopsticks for reasons no one understood. “Today we start Korean lessons. Taught by moi.”

Felix looked up, yogurt on his cheek. “Moi?”

Hyunjin smiled smugly. “It’s French. For ‘genius.’”

Chan passed by, paused, and muttered, “It means ‘me,’ actually,” before disappearing again.

Hyunjin ignored him. “Lesson one: compliments.”

Felix perked up. “Ooh! Compliments!”

Hyunjin wrote on the whiteboard in bold, dramatic strokes:

“너는 정말 멋있어.”

(Neo-neun jeongmal meosisseo.)

— “You’re really cool.”

Felix copied it carefully. “Noodles jongmal… mochi-so?”

Hyunjin exploded into a wheeze. “Close enough. Say it to me.”

Felix blinked at him, then grinned. “Hyunjin… you are really mochi soup.”

“I’ll take it,” Hyunjin whispered, hand over his chest.

Two days later, chaos struck.

Felix strutted into the practice room like a catwalk model and greeted their vocal trainer with the most confident voice he could muster:

“쌤, 너는 정말 섹시해요.”

(Ssaem, neo-neun jeongmal sekshihaeyo.)

 

The room fell silent.

Hyunjin dropped his phone. Jisung choked on his energy drink. Chan stared like he’d just witnessed a crime.

The vocal trainer blinked. “…Did you just call me sexy?”

Felix beamed. “Yes! Hyunjin hyung taught me!”

Hyunjin dove behind a speaker. “ABORT MISSION ABORT MISSION—”

Later, back at the dorm, Felix confronted Hyunjin.

“You told me it meant ‘cool!’”

“I said 멋있어 means cool!” Hyunjin cried, half-laughing, half-horrified. “섹시해요 means sexy! Why would you add that?!”

Felix crossed his arms. “You wrote it on the whiteboard!”

Hyunjin blinked. “I—okay maybe I wrote it. For practice! Not for use on instructors! I didn’t think you’d go full Romeo on our teacher!”

Felix giggled. “She blushed though.”

Hyunjin sighed into his hands. “Of course she did. You’re a walking cinnamon roll with abs.”

Felix tilted his head. “Cinnamon…?”

“Never mind,” Hyunjin muttered.

A week later, Felix’s Korean improved. Sort of.

He could say basic greetings, ask where the bathroom was, and accidentally flirt with every male staff member.

“Hyunjin,” Chan groaned one day, “your student just told the CEO his smile is ‘illegal.’”

“I said it’s a weapon! I said his smile is a weapon!” Felix argued from across the room.

“Same thing!” Chan shouted. “You’re gonna get him arrested!”

Hyunjin, of course, was proud. “He’s learning expressiveness! My baby Australian poet!”

Felix did finger hearts from the hallway. “I am toast of love!”

Hyunjin burst into a fit of squealing giggles and collapsed to the floor.

Later that week, they had a free day. Hyunjin, being the chaos goblin he was, decided today was Confession Practice Day.

“Felix,” he said, “you need to practice confessing your love. Just in case.”

Felix blinked. “To who?”

Hyunjin panicked. “Uh—no one. Just practice. Hypothetical. Like… like practice exams!”

Felix narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then smiled. “Okay. Teach me.”

Hyunjin drew an imaginary heart in the air.

“Say: ‘나는 너를 좋아해.’”

(Na-neun neo-reul joahae.)

It means: I like you.

Felix repeated it, a bit hesitant. “Nanon norul joa…hae?”

Hyunjin nodded, heart pounding. “Perfect. Now say it again. To… the wall.”

Felix faced the wall. “나는 너를 좋아해.”

Hyunjin clutched the couch cushion. “Now say it… to me.”

Felix turned slowly, grinning. “나는 너를 좋아해.”

Hyunjin made a noise that sounded vaguely like a dying dolphin and rolled off the couch. “OH MY GOD.”

Felix laughed so hard he nearly fell with him. “You’re red!”

“I—I’m not red!” Hyunjin shrieked from the floor, hiding his face. “I’m sun-kissed!”

“You’re indoors.”

“Shut up, toast boy!”

That night, they sat on the roof with convenience store ice cream and a shared blanket. It was quiet, a rare moment between their usual chaos.

Felix nudged him. “Hey.”

Hyunjin turned.

Felix’s Korean was soft but clear this time.

“진짜로… 나는 너를 좋아해.”

(Jinjaro… naneun neo-reul joahae.)

For real… I like you.

Hyunjin dropped his spoon. “Wh—Wait, real?! Like, not practice?!”

Felix smiled. “No more practice.”

Hyunjin’s brain exploded.

Then he grabbed Felix’s hand.

“Okay but,” Hyunjin said, eyes wide, “if I accidentally taught you to propose marriage instead, I need to know now.”

Felix laughed so hard he choked on his ice cream.

>>>>>>>

Chapter Text

“So,” Felix said, munching on a triangle kimbap, “this is…a friendly date?”

Hyunjin nearly choked on his straw. “Wh—YES. Exactly. Friendly. Not romantic. Just two bros being… friendly. Outside. With food. In matching outfits.”

They were, in fact, both wearing black bucket hats and white hoodies. Not planned. Totally coincidental. Super platonic. Extremely brotherly.

“You said to wear this!” Felix laughed.

“I said wear something comfy!” Hyunjin squeaked, stabbing his boba like it betrayed him.

They sat at a tiny café terrace near the Han River. The weather was perfect. Birds were chirping. A couple at the next table was literally feeding each other cake. Hyunjin stared at them like they were taunting him personally.

“I could feed you,” Felix offered, pointing his spoon toward Hyunjin’s mouth.

Hyunjin turned as red as the strawberry syrup on Felix’s waffle. “THIS IS A FRIENDLY DATE.”

“I’m being friendly,” Felix argued with a grin. “Australians are nice.”

“SO NICE. SO FRIENDLY. I LOVE FRIENDS.” Hyunjin yelled, loud enough for a dog two tables away to bark at him.

They decided to go for a walk along the river, which was definitely not romantic, just great for digestion.

“Let’s rent bikes!” Felix suggested excitedly.

Hyunjin paused. “Do… do you know how to ride one?”

Felix puffed up his chest. “Of course I do. I’m Australian.”

“…I don’t think that automatically qualifies you.”

“I chased kangaroos, mate.”

Hyunjin blinked. “Is that…a sport?”

Felix winked. “Only if you survive.”

Ten minutes later, Hyunjin was screaming as Felix veered sharply into a bush.

“WHY WOULD YOU TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF THE HANDLEBARS?!”

“I WAS WAVING AT A DOG!”

“IT CAN’T WAVE BACK!”

They both crashed into the grass, tangled up like two seaweed-wrapped burritos, limbs everywhere and Felix still giggling.

Hyunjin groaned from underneath him. “I thought you were chasing kangaroos, not committing vehicular friendship manslaughter.”

Felix laughed. “Still alive though. Friendly win?”

Hyunjin glared at him. “I hate you.”

Felix beamed. “You love me.”

“…Shut up.”

Back on their feet (and covered in leaves), they decided to just walk.

At some point, Hyunjin realized Felix was humming. It was off-key. And loud. And possibly a remix of three different K-pop choruses mashed into one.

“You are tone-deaf,” Hyunjin said.

“I contain multitudes,” Felix replied.

They stopped by a convenience store to grab snacks for their next activity: duck boat ride.

“Because,” Felix declared, “nothing says friendly bonding like paddling together in a plastic bird.”

Hyunjin didn’t even argue. He was too tired.

The duck boat was… not romantic. Mostly because Felix didn’t know how to steer and kept spinning them in sad, panicked circles near the dock.

“Straight! STRAIGHT!” Hyunjin shouted.

“I AM GOING STRAIGHT—wait no, I lied. We’re spiraling.”

“LIKE MY FEELINGS.”

Felix snorted. “You do love me.”

“I do not!”

“You’re red again.”

“It’s the sun!”

“It’s sunset!”

“Shut up and row!”

Eventually, they gave up and just let the boat drift while they snacked on chips and shared a banana milk.

Felix dangled his feet over the edge and looked at Hyunjin. “This is nice.”

Hyunjin smiled, cheeks still pink. “It is.”

Felix nudged him. “Would’ve been more romantic if we didn’t crash into reeds and yell at seagulls.”

“They attacked me, Felix.”

“You threw a shrimp chip at their baby.”

“It looked judgy!”

Felix burst out laughing, the sound echoing across the water. Hyunjin looked at him like he was the only person in the world.

“Hey,” Hyunjin said softly, nudging his knee. “This was fun.”

Felix smiled. “Yeah. Friendly fun.”

Hyunjin nodded. “Yeah…”

Pause.

Long pause.

Felix raised an eyebrow. “But?”

“But what if—” Hyunjin began, then cleared his throat. “Hypothetically speaking, if I… maybe wanted this to be… more than a friendly date… would you, like… run away screaming?”

Felix blinked. “No?”

“Okay.” Hyunjin breathed.

“Why? Do you hypothetically want that?” Felix asked, smirking.

Hyunjin stared at him. “Felix.”

“Yes?”

“I literally taught you how to confess. I tripped over a bed for you. I took a duck boat for you.”

Felix grinned and leaned closer. “And?”

“Nothing,” Hyunjin muttered, face red. “You’re so dumb.”

Felix laughed and bumped their shoulders together. “Hold my hand?”

>>>>>>

Chapter Text

Hyunjin yawned as he trudged into the practice room, hoodie half-on, hair sticking up in every direction. He looked like he’d fought a pillow and lost.

Inside, Felix was already stretching, earbuds in, bobbing his head to some beat only he could hear. His eyes lit up when he saw Hyunjin stumble in.

“You look like a sleepy mop,” Felix grinned.

Hyunjin blinked at him, walked over, and flopped face-down onto Felix’s thigh like it was a pillow.

“I’m not emotionally ready for practice,” Hyunjin mumbled.

Felix laughed, running his fingers through Hyunjin’s messy hair. “You’re not even physically ready.”

Hyunjin groaned dramatically. “Just let me sleep here. You smell like vanilla.”

“That’s my shampoo, thanks,” Felix teased. “Come on, ten more minutes and Chan-hyung’s gonna yell.”

Hyunjin cracked one eye open and pouted. “Carry me.”

“I’m not carrying you.”

“Then give me a hug and I’ll consider moving.”

Felix rolled his eyes, leaned down, and wrapped his arms around Hyunjin’s shoulders. “Fine. One hug. That’s it.”

Hyunjin melted instantly, his hands sneaking around Felix’s waist. “Best. Morning. Ever.”

From the hallway, Jisung’s voice echoed, “Yah, guys have you heard another trainee will be added today. Back up dancer for BTS.”

Hyunjin didn’t move. “Oh? Why go here instead of their company?”

Jisung shrugged and Felix just kept hugging Hyunjin.

Lee Minho had been a JYP trainee for precisely four days when he decided one thing: this place was already insane.

And tonight, he was invited to dinner by three of the loudest reasons why.

“Hey! Minho-hyung! Over here!” Hyunjin waved from the ramen shop like he was signaling a plane to land.

Inside were Felix (wearing sunglasses indoors), and Han Jisung, who was currently arm-wrestling a chopstick.

Minho blinked. “Why is he fighting cutlery?”

“He lost to it yesterday,” Hyunjin explained. “Rematch.”

They sat down, and within three minutes, Minho was regretting his choices.

“Felix, how’s your Korean going?” he asked politely.

Felix beamed. “Yesterday Hyunjin-hyung taught me how to say ‘your eyes are more dangerous than traffic.’”

Minho choked on his water. “I—what?!”

Han cackled. “That’s not even the worst one. Last week he called our vocal coach a ‘romantic lizard.’”

“I thought it meant ‘wise mentor!’” Felix shouted, betrayed.

Minho turned to Hyunjin, who looked extremely proud of himself. “Are you teaching him pick-up lines instead of basic grammar?!”

Hyunjin shrugged. “He’s learning, that’s what matters.”

Felix nodded. “My priorities are straight. Like Hyunjin hyung’s legs.”

Hyunjin winked. “You noticed.”

Minho’s eye twitched. “I’m volunteering. I’m teaching Felix Korean from now on.”

“You’re what now,” Hyunjin said flatly.

“You heard me. Starting tomorrow. Real Korean. No more ‘romantic lizard’ nonsense.”

Felix gasped. “Wait—will you teach me how to argue with delivery people?”

Minho blinked. “…Yes.”

Felix dramatically clutched his chest. “Finally. Power.”

As they left the ramen shop, full of carbs and bad decisions, Jisung suddenly yelled, “DON’T MOVE!”

Everyone froze.

Hyunjin: “Why are you whisper-yelling?”

Jisung slowly pointed down the road. “Two stray dogs. Unleashed. Locked. On. Us.”

Felix blinked. “Maybe they’re friendly—”

BARK.

“Nope!” Hyunjin screamed. “NOT FRIENDLY!”

Then chaos erupted.

Jisung took off down the sidewalk yelling, “EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!”

Hyunjin grabbed Felix’s wrist. “RUN, YOU BEAUTIFUL ANGEL!”

Minho ran, ramen still in one hand. “WHY AM I HERE, I WAS A DANCER—”

They tore down the street like a boy band-themed action movie, dogs barking behind them like tiny demons.

“TURN LEFT!” Minho shouted.

“That’s a dead end!” Felix screamed.

“NO IT’S—oh wait crap it is.”

They skidded to a stop in an alley, panting, Felix halfway climbing Hyunjin like a scared koala.

“What do we do?!” Jisung cried, hiding behind a trash can.

Minho looked around. “Okay, new plan—sacrifice Hyunjin. He caused this.”

“I DID NOTHING BUT EXIST BEAUTIFULLY,” Hyunjin snapped.

Felix was still clutching Hyunjin’s hoodie. “I don’t want to die on my first friendly date arc!”

Minho blinked. “Wait, this was a date?”

“IT’S ALWAYS A DATE! THIS IS DOUBLE DATE!” Hyunjin shouted.

The dogs finally rounded the corner, tails wagging aggressively.

“Plan B!” Jisung yelped. “What’s Plan B?!”

“Pretend to be statues,” Minho said, freezing. “Dogs can’t see you if you don’t move.”

“That’s T-Rexes!” Felix shrieked.

The dogs started barking louder. Jisung screamed and threw a sausage stick like a grenade. “FETCH, DEMONS!”

It worked—for five seconds. Then they turned back and barked louder.

“OKAY I’M CALLING MY MOM,” Hyunjin panicked.

“WE DON’T HAVE PHONES,” Minho yelled.

“I’M CALLING HER IN MY HEART!”

Suddenly, a delivery guy on a scooter passed the alley entrance.

Hyunjin screamed, “AHJUSSI HELP US!”

The man slowed, saw four teen boys and two angry dogs, and noped out of existence.

“COWARD!” Jisung shouted.

“We’re gonna die here,” Felix said dramatically, clinging to Hyunjin’s arm. “Tell my family… I loved toast.”

“I’LL AVENGE YOU,” Hyunjin sobbed.

“GUYS.” Minho pointed. “There’s a stack of cardboard boxes. We can climb over the fence.”

Jisung bolted. “I BELIEVE IN PARKOUR!”

He jumped, tripped on a milk crate, and went down like a sack of kimchi.

Minho yanked him up by the hoodie. “Move it, anime character!”

Hyunjin pushed Felix upward. “Climb, you beautiful Aussie!”

Felix made it over first and immediately yelled, “THE DOGS CAN’T CLIMB. VICTORY!”

Minho, Jisung, and Hyunjin flopped over the fence one by one, landing in a flowerbed.

Silence.

Heavy breathing.

Felix lay on the grass, staring at the sky. “I feel reborn.”

Hyunjin reached over and brushed dirt off his cheek. “We survived. Our love is stronger than dogs.”

Minho sat up. “This is not what I pictured when I chose JYP.”

Jisung coughed. “I saw my ancestors for a second.”

Later, covered in grass and trauma, they found a convenience store.

They sat on the curb, eating ice cream like war veterans.

Minho sighed. “Never going to dinner with you people again.”

Felix handed him a band-aid. “You’re our teacher now. It’s your fate.”

Hyunjin leaned against Felix’s shoulder. “You okay tho?”

Felix smiled. “Yes! This is like a movie! Best double friendly date ever!”

Minho rolled his eyes, “Is this really double date? You. Jisung. You’re my date?”

Jisung raised his popsicle. “To surviving stray dogs and chaotic love.”

They clinked snacks like glasses and howled at the moon.

Literally. Just for fun.

>>>>>>>>

Chapter Text

The dorm was unusually quiet for a Saturday morning, which meant only one thing: chaos was brewing somewhere.

In the tiny trainee dorm kitchen, Felix squinted at the stove like it was an unsolvable math equation.

“I think it’s too hot,” Seungmin muttered, poking at the pan with a plastic spatula that was already starting to warp.

Felix tilted his head. “You sure? The recipe said medium heat.”

“Yeah, and you turned it to high. That’s not medium, that’s… volcano.”

Felix leaned forward, sniffed the sizzling pan, then quickly leaned back. “Okay, maybe it’s a little too hot.”

“Why is there smoke—” Han poked his head into the kitchen and immediately started coughing. “What are you idiots doing?!”

Felix waved a hand at him. “Cooking breakfast?”

“You’re cooking fire, mate!” Han yelped, pointing at the flame that had started licking the side of the pan. “Oh my god, it’s actually on fire—Seungmin, why is it on fire?!”

Seungmin opened the microwave instead of a cabinet. “I—I don’t know! Felix said to let the oil heat up!”

“Who taught you to cook?! Satan?!”

Felix, panicking, grabbed a cup of water and made the worst decision known to mankind: he threw it on the grease fire.

The fire hissed and exploded upwards, singeing the edge of Seungmin’s sleeve and setting off the smoke alarm in a chorus of screeches.

Han screamed.

Seungmin screamed.

Felix screamed.

Then Han screamed again for good measure.

That was when Hyunjin walked in, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and yawning, “Why are you all so lou—OH MY GOD WHAT THE—”

He dropped his phone, launched across the room, and grabbed the fire extinguisher from behind the fridge like he was born for this moment. With the righteous fury of someone who just wanted a peaceful morning, Hyunjin pulled the pin and sprayed foam across the entire kitchen.

The fire died out instantly under the torrent of white fluff. So did the rest of their will to function.

Han sank to the floor. “My eyebrows…”

Felix blinked through the foam. “Hyunjin… you’re our hero!”

Hyunjin turned to scold them, but was cut off when Felix flung himself forward and wrapped his arms around Hyunjin’s waist. “You saved us!”

Hyunjin froze, face going tomato red. “Wha—I—Felix! Don’t hug me when I’m covered in extinguisher foam!”

“But you looked so cool!” Felix said, grinning up at him.

Behind them, Seungmin muttered, “I’m starting to think we should never be allowed in the kitchen again.”

From down the hall, a voice broke the moment like a cracking whip. “WHY DOES IT SMELL LIKE THE WORLD IS ENDING?!”

Minho stormed in, hair wild and eyes half-open, wearing mismatched socks and menace. He took one look at the kitchen, the foam, and the four soot-streaked idiots, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You. Out,” he ordered. “All of you.”

“But—”

“I said out! I’ll make breakfast before you burn down the building.”

Grumbling, the four shuffled out. Felix still clung to Hyunjin like a koala, and Hyunjin had given up trying to pry him off.

“You’re really strong, Hyunjin,” Felix mumbled against his shoulder.

“I’m really embarrassed,” Hyunjin hissed, blushing harder as Seungmin snapped a picture of them and snorted.

Later that day, the mood in the practice room was starkly different.

Bang Chan stood in front of the mirrors, holding a tablet with a solemn look. The rest of the boys gathered around, sweat already clinging to their necks from warm-ups.

“You’ve all been chosen,” Chan said, his voice steady but tense, “to join a survival show. This is it. Make or break.”

Silence hung heavy.

No one cheered. No one cracked a joke. The air turned thick with pressure, excitement, fear.

Hyunjin felt Felix’s fingers graze his behind him. A silent nudge. I’m here.

Han adjusted his cap. “Then we survive.”

“Let’s give them a reason to remember us,” Minho said, stepping forward.

Practice started in earnest after that.

Hours bled into one another. Choreography drilled over and over. Vocals pushed until their throats ached. Sweat pooled on the floor. Shoes squeaked. The mirrors fogged with breath and movement and fire—not the kind born in a pan, but the kind that ignited in their chests.

Felix’s legs trembled after the third full run-through of their set, but he caught Hyunjin’s eye in the mirror, and something in him steadied.

Hyunjin was exhausted, hair clinging to his face, shirt soaked, but still—he danced like it was his last shot.

Because it might be.

When they finally called it a night, the boys collapsed on the practice room floor in a heap. Changbin’s head ended up on Jeongin’s stomach. Chan leaned against the wall, eyes closed. Seungmin silently passed around water bottles.

Felix crawled over and dropped beside Hyunjin again, like gravity pulled him there.

“You okay?” Hyunjin asked, voice hoarse.

Felix nodded, cheeks flushed. “Yeah.”

Then, soft enough that only Hyunjin could hear:

“You’re still my hero.”

Hyunjin turned away quickly, but not fast enough to hide his shy smile.

“…Shut up.”

Felix giggled. “You’re blushing again.”

“And you’re annoying.”

“And you’re cute.”

“Felix.”

But even as he groaned, Hyunjin let himself lean just a little closer. Felix held Hyunjin’s hand, squeezing it tight. 

Because maybe—just maybe—surviving didn’t have to mean going through it alone.

>>>>>

Chapter Text

They had been at it for nearly nine hours straight—no AC, fraying tempers, and sweat pooling in places no one wanted to talk about. The mirrored practice room was foggy, but not from inspiration.

Han Jisung wiped his face with the hem of his shirt and slumped down on the wooden floor, chest heaving. “We need five minutes.”

“There’s no five minutes in evaluations,” Hyunjin said sharply, adjusting his cap and checking his form in the mirror again. “We’re still out of sync on the transition. You keep missing the fourth beat.”

Han stood. “I’m not off. You just speed up when you get nervous.”

Hyunjin turned. “Excuse me?”

“You’re dancing like the mirror owes you money,” Han muttered.

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed. “At least I care enough to get it right.”

The room went silent. Even the speaker crackled like it wanted to cut the tension.

Han’s shoulders tensed. “I care. But I also don’t want to collapse trying to meet your standards.”

The two stared each other down—Hyunjin, fire in his eyes, fists clenched; Han, breathing hard, knuckles white from clenching his shirt. It wasn’t going to turn into a fight, but it wasn’t far either.

Just before it could explode, Chan appeared at the doorway, towel over his neck, eyebrows raised. “If you two are done posturing like anime rivals, let’s go. The company’s locking the building.”

Neither said anything as they packed up, their mutual frustration simmering in silence.

Back at the trainee dorm, the mood was awkward. Hyunjin sat with headphones in, glaring at his reflection in a spoon. Han sulked in the corner, chewing ice like it personally offended him. Felix sat cross-legged on the floor with a Rubik’s cube, clueless to the earlier drama.

Minho—oblivious and hungry—had decided to cook for the dorm.

“Dinner’s on me, losers,” he announced proudly, holding up a red-labeled jar. “I’m making fire kimchi stew.”

“What’s in it?” Felix asked, still turning the Rubik’s cube.

“Kimchi. Garlic. Gochugaru. Chili oil. And… this mystery packet from the back of the cabinet labeled ‘DANGER’ in Sharpie.”

“Wait, what?!” Chan asked, too late.

Thirty minutes later, bowls were served to an unsuspecting dorm.

“This smells like actual hell,” Han muttered, but took a bite anyway. “Hmm. Spicy, but—oh wow. OH—” He broke into immediate sweat. “Why is my tongue doing jazz hands?!”

Felix, seated next to him, had already turned red. “It tastes like betrayal. And lava.”

Chan took one bite, put his spoon down, and just walked out of the kitchen silently.

Hyunjin, determined not to lose to Han in anything, shoveled down his bowl like a warrior proving something to the gods.

By the time dinner ended, Minho was humming contentedly while cleaning, while four of his bandmates were internally combusting.

It started with Han.

“Uh-oh,” he said, freezing mid-step. “Guys? I think I’m gonna die. It’s happening. NOW.”

Felix stood up, clutching his stomach. “I need the toilet right now. This is not a drill.”

“MOVE!” Han shouted, sprinting down the hallway.

“NO, ME FIRST!” Felix yelled, hot on his heels.

Hyunjin, now pale and sweating, rose with eerie calm. “I… I also require immediate evacuation.”

Jeongin poked his head out of his room. “Why does it smell like regret in here?”

Han and Felix reached the bathroom at the same time, grappling for the doorknob like it was the last helicopter out of a war zone.

Han yelled, “I was first!”

Felix screamed, “I’m not wearing socks! That means I’m faster!”

Inside, someone had beaten them to it. A faint knock from the other side: “Occupied,” said Chan calmly.

All hell broke loose.

Han collapsed against the wall, groaning. “Hyunjin, use the sink.”

“I’M NOT AN ANIMAL,” Hyunjin barked.

Minho peeked into the hallway, still munching on a rice ball. “Oh. So it’s begun.”

“WHAT DID YOU PUT IN THAT STEW, YOU PSYCHO?!” Han screamed.

“Just a little kick. You’re welcome.”

From inside the bathroom, Chan called out. “There’s only one roll of toilet paper left, by the way.”

Han, Felix, and Hyunjin froze like it was a survival game.

“I’ll trade my entire trainee allowance for it,” Felix whispered.

“I’ll trade Minho’s allowance,” Hyunjin countered.

“Too late,” Chan replied. “I already used it.”

A collective scream echoed through the dorm.

Two hours later, the war was over.

Han and Felix lay on the living room floor like fallen warriors. Hyunjin sat on the couch with a heating pad on his stomach, looking traumatized. Chan emerged from the bathroom holding an empty Pepto Bismol bottle like a trophy.

Minho walked in, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. “Anyone want late-night spicy ramen?”

The three groaned in unison.

Han glared weakly at Hyunjin. “Still mad?”

Hyunjin shook his head. “After what we’ve been through? Nah. We’ve seen too much.”

Felix groaned. “I think we’re soul-bonded now.”

From across the room, Jeongin filmed the chaos on his phone, whispering, “This is going straight into the debut documentary.”

Minho, still unfazed, shrugged. “At least now you guys are… flushed with emotion.”

Everyone groaned again.

Chan threw a pillow at him. “Out.”

And for the first time that day, they all laughed—through the stomach cramps, the embarrassment, and the shared trauma of toilet warfare.

True bonding always comes with fire. Literal, digestive fire.

>>>>>

Chapter Text

The air in the practice room was thick. Not from the summer heat, not even from the hours of dancing—but from tension.

Hyunjin’s brows were furrowed, shirt sticking to his back, hair clinging to his forehead as he panted, mid-practice. Across from him, Jisung stood with his arms crossed, equally breathless and annoyed.

“You missed the beat—again,” Jisung snapped.

Hyunjin whipped around. “I was trying to match the timing of your verse!”

“Rap better, Hyunjin! It’s not a dance show—it’s a performance!”

“Oh yeah? Then maybe you should try dancing better instead of stomping around like a stressed-out quokka!”

Gasps echoed across the studio. Even Chan blinked from his corner, jaw slightly open.

“Excuse me?!” Jisung’s voice cracked as he stepped forward. “At least I compose songs, rap and sing!”

Felix was frozen, water bottle in hand, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

Hyunjin’s jaw clenched. “At least I have stage presence!”

“At least I don’t pout every time someone critiques me!”

“That’s because you think you’re always right!”

“BECAUSE I AM!”

“ENOUGH!” Chan’s voice cut like a whip.

Everyone snapped into silence. Jisung muttered something under his breath and stomped off toward the restroom. Hyunjin turned away, chest heaving, eyes burning, fists tight.

Felix stayed rooted for a moment. Then, quietly, he followed Hyunjin out of the practice room.

Twenty minutes later, the sky was peachy pink as the sun started to set. Outside the dorm, Hyunjin leaned against a bench, eyes still stormy.

Felix rolled up beside him—on a skateboard.

Hyunjin raised a brow. “What are you doing?”

Felix held out a second board with a tiny bow he somehow taped on top. “Ride with me.”

Hyunjin stared at it. “Are you trying to distract me with wheels and aesthetic gift wrapping?”

“Is it working?”

“Yes.”

The two boys cruised slowly along the sidewalk, giggling every time one of them almost tipped over. Hyunjin, surprisingly, was not bad at it. Felix, on the other hand, skated like someone whose legs were still figuring out gravity.

“You’re leaning wrong,” Hyunjin laughed, skating in front of him.

“You’re leaning too hard on your dramatic ass,” Felix teased, arms flailing as he tried to turn.

“Shut up and bend your knees!”

“I AM BENDING—ah—Hyung help me I’m going downhill!!”

Felix sped past him, shrieking, until Hyunjin skated beside him and caught his arm to slow him down.

“See? I’m useful,” Hyunjin grinned.

Felix beamed with boba eyes. “You always catch me.”

Hyunjin dramatically flipped his luscious hair. “I know.”

The skateboards rolled to a stop outside a convenience store. Felix practically skipped to the door, dragging Hyunjin behind him.

“I’m buying snacks and something cool,” Felix declared proudly.

Hyunjin raised a brow. “What do you mean by ‘cool’?”

“You’ll see~” Felix winked and waltzed inside like he was on a secret mission.

Hyunjin didn’t think much of it—until he saw Felix heading not for the ice cream freezer, but toward something dangerous.

“…Wait.”

Felix grabbed a small bottle of soju and walked confidently to the counter, placing it down with the air of someone who clearly had no idea what he was doing.

The cashier blinked. “Uh… ID please.”

Felix tilted his head, grinning. “No need! I’m… twenty… five! Yes. Twenty five. Old.”

The cashier stared. “You sure?”

Felix nodded rapidly. “Yes! I have… three taxes! And one job! I drink… many alcohol with my boss! At night!”

Hyunjin, now holding two ice cream cones and watching from afar, was already choking.

The cashier blinked again. “You said you were twenty-five?”

Felix grinned. “Yes. Twenty-five… years… ago! I mean—”

“Felix.”

That voice.

Felix froze like a caught criminal as Bang Chan appeared behind him, arms crossed, wearing the expression of a parent who just found their toddler holding car keys.

Felix turned around slowly. “Chan hyung! Hi! Fancy seeing you here! I was just… practicing… my Korean… with adult themes—very educational—”

Chan leaned down and whispered something in Felix’s ear.

Felix’s soul visibly left his body. His eyes widened in horror.

He gasped. “You KNEW?!”

Chan nodded, deadpan. “You said ‘I have three dads’ in Korean.”

Felix panicked. “I—WHAT?!”

And then he ran.

Not far.

Chan casually reached out and caught him by the back of his shirt like a claw machine catching a panicked plushie.

“Gotcha.”

“Mercy—!”

Flick!

Chan’s finger connected sharply with Felix’s forehead.

“OW!” Felix yelped, clutching his head. “You’re supposed to protect me!”

“I am,” Chan said dryly. “From prison.”

At that exact moment, Hyunjin walked up with his ice cream cones, eyes wide.

“What the hell is going on? Did you just—flick him?”

Chan sighed. “Your student tried to buy soju with the Korean skills of a 5 year old kid.”

Felix immediately defended himself, rubbing his forehead. “I just said I had three taxes and one dad!”

“Three dads,” Chan corrected.

Hyunjin blinked. Then burst out laughing so hard he almost dropped the ice cream.

“I leave you alone for five minutes and you commit a felony?!”

“It was for the aesthetic!” Felix huffed.

Chan tossed an arm around Felix’s shoulders. “Aesthetic or not, next time stick to banana milk, international criminal.”

Felix pouted. “You’re lucky I’m cute.”

Hyunjin handed him his ice cream with a grin. “That’s the only thing saving you.”

And as they walked out, laughing under the fading light, Chan muttered, “Next time I’m putting a leash on both of you.”

Back at the dorm rooftop, the sky was dark blue and dotted with stars. Felix and Hyunjin sat on the concrete floor, legs stretched out, skateboards beside them, half-eaten cones melting slightly in the heat.

“I’m sorry for snapping earlier,” Hyunjin said softly.

Felix glanced at him. “Say sorry to Jisung, not me. Besides… You were frustrated.”

“I just… I hate feeling like I’m not enough. Jisung’s so good at everything. And when he points things out, it’s like—yeah, he’s right. But it still hurts.”

Felix leaned his head against Hyunjin’s shoulder. “You are enough, Hyung. And learning.”

Hyunjin melted a little.

Felix added, “You’re dramatic, messy, loud, sometimes terrible at sharing snacks—but you’re also honest, hardworking, and… you saved me from a downhill skateboard doom today.”

Hyunjin chuckled. “So I’m forgiven?”

“Always. But say sorry to Jisung too.”

They bumped shoulders gently. Hyunjin took the last bite of his cone and let out a content sigh.

“Thanks for today,” he whispered. “I needed to forget how heavy things felt.”

Felix grinned, lips sticky with ice cream. “Then let’s keep doing that.”

Hyunjin tilted his head. “Skateboarding?”

“No. This,” Felix said, gently nudging their knees together. “You and me. Existing. Being dumb. Laughing. Soft things.”

Hyunjin grinned wide, heart full.

Then: “I failed with suju. You should try buying it, you’re taller and the cashier might believe you’re adult.’”

Hyunjin gasped. “You’re telling me I look old and not baby?”

And they burst into laughter again, just two tired, happy boys under the stars, healing one skateboard ride at a time.

>>>>>

Chapter Text

It was nearing 1 a.m., and the dorm was in peak creepy silence—the kind that made the air feel heavier and made every pipe groan like it needed therapy. Hyunjin shuffled his way to the bathroom, wrapped in a blanket like a sad tortilla, hair sticking out from all angles, eyes barely open.

He pushed the bathroom door open lazily, not expecting anything—

“YAAAAAH!”

“AAHHHHHHH!”

Screams collided like cymbals. Hyunjin yelped. Han Jisung screamed louder, mid-toothbrushing with a mouth full of foam, gripping his toothbrush like a dagger.

Hyunjin flailed backward, nearly slipping. “BRO, WHAT IN THE DENTAL NIGHTMARE?!”

“WHY ARE YOU WALKING IN LIKE YOU’RE IN A HORROR MOVIE?!” Han spat toothpaste into the sink like it personally offended him. “TURN ON THE LIGHT, VAMPIRE!”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE A GHOST!”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE A CRIMINAL!”

The bathroom light flicked on finally, revealing Hyunjin in fuzzy socks and a blanket cape, and Han in pajama shorts, a headband with a cartoon frog, and a whole lot of drama.

They both stood panting.

Then came the awkward silence.

“…You okay?” Han asked, quieter now.

Hyunjin rubbed his neck. “Yeah. Sorry. For… earlier. At practice.”

Han blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I shouldn’t have told you to dance better,” Hyunjin muttered, eyes on the floor. “That was mean. You’re a good dancer. I was just mad.”

Han blinked twice, wide-eyed, then quickly rinsed out his mouth. “No, I’m sorry. I said your rap was trash and that was harsh. I mean, your timing was weird—”

“JISUNG.”

“—but you didn’t deserve that,” Han said quickly. “I was just frustrated.”

Silence.

Then Hyunjin chuckled. “We fought like old people arguing over karaoke mics.”

Han laughed. “You ignored me for four days over an off-beat verse.”

“I cried watching an onion-cutting TikTok because I thought it was about us,” Hyunjin admitted.

Han choked. “You’re the most dramatic Pisces I’ve ever met.”

They burst into giggles, then slowly leaned in for a hug.

“Friends again?” Hyunjin whispered.

Han nodded into his shoulder. “Okay, friends again but I can’t assure you we won’t fight again. Also if you insult my frog headband—“

“It’s disgusting but fine.”

They stayed there for a while in the middle of the bathroom, rocking like a pair of teary otters.

Then—

Creeeaaaak.

They froze.

Then—tap… tap… tap…

“…Hyunjin,” Han whispered, clutching his arm. “Is that…”

“Don’t. Say. Ghost.”

Han’s eyes were wide. “It’s the hallway girl with no feet! Minho said—”

“WHY WOULD YOU BRING HER UP RIGHT NOW?!” Hyunjin whisper-yelled.

THUD.

Han screamed. “SHE’S HERE!”

Hyunjin screamed louder. “I CAN’T DIE LOOKING LIKE THIS!”

Han launched himself onto Hyunjin like a backpack, legs wrapped around his waist. “I’M NOT LETTING GO! BUT IF SHE NEEDS ONE…”

Jisung was already crying, “TAKE HYUNJIN HE’S TALLER!”

“You’re heavy! I can’t run with this trauma on my back!”

But run they did—sort of. Hyunjin stumbled down the hallway with Han koala-gripping him from behind, both yelling, limbs flailing, nearly slipping on the kitchen mat. A mop fell. A light flickered.

They crashed into Hyunjin’s shared room and slammed the door shut. Panting. Shaking.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” Han gasped, still clinging to Hyunjin’s back.

Hyunjin peeled him off like a scared cat. “I don’t know! But I don’t want to meet it!”

They dove under Hyunjin’s blanket on the bottom bunk. Silence fell… until—

step… step…

The footsteps were back.

Both boys froze, eyes wide.

Hyunjin grabbed the blanket and yanked it over their heads. “HIDE! HIDE!”

Han panicked and dove in too, smacking his head on the bunk. “MOVE YOUR LEG!”

“THERE’S NO SPACE, YOU PANICKING HAMSTER!”

“I’M SMALL, LET ME LIVE!” Han whimpered. “ADOPT ME TONIGHT, PLEASE. I’M TOO YOUNG TO BE HAUNTED!”

“WE’RE THE SAME AGE—”

“I SAID ADOPT ME!”

They squirmed under the blanket like worms in a sock drawer until they both ended up tangled, Han clutching Hyunjin’s waist like a terrified baby monkey.

“…You’re crushing me,” Hyunjin mumbled.

“Better than being dragged into the ghost realm,” Han whispered.

Eventually, they both calmed down a little, still huddled under the blanket like cowards.

“You think the ghost targets the annoying ones?” Hyunjin asked.

“Then you’re doomed.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. You’re hugging me back.”

“Shut up.”

More silence. Then, quietly, Hyunjin reached out and pulled the blanket tighter.

Han blinked. “…Are you hugging yourself?”

“Yes.”

“I’m hugging myself too.”

“Great. We’re two grown boys hugging ourselves under a blanket because of creaky pipes.”

They both started giggling again, the fear fading just a bit.

“I missed being stupid with you,” Han whispered.

“Same,” Hyunjin mumbled. “Just don’t die in the night. I can’t explain that to Minho.”

Han snorted. “If I do, make sure my frog headband gets donated.”

“Noted.”

Eventually, they both drifted off under the shared blanket, tangled together with teary eyes, full hearts, and absolutely no dignity left.

From the hallway, Seungmin walked by, earbuds in, on his way back from filling his water bottle. He paused in front of Hyunjin’s shared room, frowned at the door, then looked down at the floorboard he’d accidentally stepped on—still creaking slightly.

“…Idiots,” he muttered, then turned off the hall light and went back to bed.

>>>>>

Chapter Text

The tension in the room was brutal.

Hyunjin, Minho, and Jeongin sat stiff on the practice floor, eyes wide, bodies barely breathing. The announcement of their nomination for elimination felt like a slap to the face—a reminder that no matter how hard they worked, one mistake could send them home.

Felix’s hands balled into fists as he looked toward Hyunjin. His eyes were already glassy, and Felix could see the panic under the surface, hidden behind that practiced smile.

JYP’s voice echoed in their minds even after he left: “Three groups. Three original songs. One week. Show us why you deserve to debut.”

So they split.

Hyunjin was grouped with Seungmin and Chan. Felix was with Changbin and Minho. And Jeongin with WJ and Jisung.

The dorm transformed into a chaotic workshop of melodies and choreography. People barely slept. Tempers flared. Even the food deliveries slowed down.

But tonight, they were free for just a bit.

“We’re going out,” Chan declared. “Cameras on. Smiles wide. Let’s pretend we’re not dying inside!”

So they went—to the neon-lit chaos of the arcade. Cameras followed them like hawks, but it didn’t stop the nine boys from acting like kids again. Jisung immediately challenged Seungmin to DDR. Minho claimed the claw machine. Changbin shouted every time the light on his whack-a-mole hammer missed. Jeongin filmed everyone with the vlog cam and narrated like he was a documentary host. Felix and Hyunjin laughed from across the room, separated by group assignments but always, always drawn to each other.

Then Hyunjin caught Felix’s eye. A look. A tilt of his head toward the exit. Felix tilted his head back. Challenge accepted.

They slipped away behind the vending machines near the emergency exit, just out of the camera’s sight. A rare two minutes of freedom.

“You okay?” Felix asked softly. “You’ve been really quiet.”

“I’m fine,” Hyunjin muttered, then hesitated. “Just… scared.”

Felix leaned against the wall. “You’re not going home, Hyung.”

The use of “Hyung” when they’re alone made Hyunjin smile, even now. “You always say it like I’m invincible.”

“You kinda are,” Felix said, nudging him.

Hyunjin chuckled but didn’t respond. Instead, he took a step closer, then—carefully—snuck his hand up into Felix’s hoodie pocket, sliding it in and curling his fingers around Felix’s hand inside.

Felix froze, then looked down with a wide-eyed smile. “Did you seriously just hide your hand in my hoodie like a shy raccoon?”

“You’re warm,” Hyunjin muttered, cheeks burning. “Shut up.”

Felix giggled, their hands clasped secretly while the world outside their tiny hiding spot spun chaotically.

“Let’s stay like this for just a second,” Hyunjin whispered. “Before I have to go back to pretending I’m not scared.”

Felix squeezed his hand. “Then stay. You’re safe here, raccoon.”

Suddenly, Jisung’s voice shouted from across the arcade, “HAS ANYONE SEEN THE LITERAL LOVE BIRDS?!”

They jumped apart instantly. Felix smoothed down his hoodie, Hyunjin cleared his throat and stomped back into the light as if nothing had happened. Jisung narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“You two better not be hiding kissy faces behind the vending machines again.”

“We weren’t!” Hyunjin squeaked too quickly.

“Suspicious,” Minho said flatly.

Chan pointed at the dance pad. “Felix! You’re up.”

Felix groaned but moved into position. “I will defeat you, Jisung, and then take Hyunjin’s hand in victory.”

Hyunjin nearly tripped on air.

The arcade night ended with them breathless and chaotic, Felix high-fiving Hyunjin with slightly too much fondness, and Chan mumbling something about “this is why we’re not debuting any time soon.”

Later that night, as the dorm lights dimmed and everyone crashed from sugar and stress, Felix sat by the window scribbling lyrics. Hyunjin passed behind him and tapped his shoulder.

Felix turned, smiled, then opened his hoodie pocket.

Without a word, Hyunjin slid his hand inside again, just for a second, safe in the quiet space they carved for themselves between panic and performance.

In the next few days, they’d return to the pressure of the evaluation, the cameras, the fight to stay.

But tonight?

Tonight, they were just two boys, hands hidden, hearts out in the open.

>>>>>

Chapter Text

It all started with a whisper. Well, more like Felix dramatically hissing across the dorm living room.

“Emergency meeting. Maknae line only.”

Jeongin blinked from his banana milk, Han looked up mid-nap on the couch, and Seungmin frowned suspiciously. “Why do I feel like this will lead to someone getting yelled at?”

Felix grinned wide, holding up a suspicious-looking plastic bag like it was a sacred relic. “Because it will. But listen—it’s genius.”

They gathered in the shared room, door shut, Felix dumping the contents of the bag onto the floor like he was about to summon a dark ritual. Out spilled three boxes of hair bleach.

Han immediately shrank back. “Where did you get that?”

Felix puffed his chest. “Stole it from Chan’s bathroom cabinet.”

Seungmin gasped. “You broke into the dad’s vault?!”

Felix looked insulted. “It was unlocked. That’s basically an invitation.”

Jeongin squinted at the box. “This says extra strength. For very resistant hair. That sounds dangerous.”

“Exactly,” Felix declared proudly. “If we want to debut, we need to look like idols. Platinum blondes. Frosty tips. Dangerous visuals.”

“Dangerously unemployed,” Seungmin muttered.

But Han was already intrigued. “What if I went… lavender? Like those boy groups with concepts. I could be the mysterious member.”

“You’re already mysterious,” Jeongin said. “We’re still trying to figure out your real age.”

“Guys, focus!” Felix said, pointing to the bleach like it was a treasure map. “Trust me. One hour and we’ll be gorgeous.”

Famous last words.

Operation: K-Pop Glow-Up began with Seungmin duct-taping a towel around his shoulders like a cape. Jeongin wore swimming goggles. Han was eating spicy noodles while applying foil to his hair.

Felix, self-appointed “Head Bleach Stylist,” mixed the contents with chaotic confidence. “It’s just like baking,” he said. “I once made brownies.”

“That’s literally nothing alike,” Seungmin deadpanned.

But it was too late. They were in too deep.

The room filled with chemical fumes. Han started coughing dramatically. Jeongin’s goggles fogged up. Seungmin asked Felix if it was supposed to tingle, to which Felix replied, “That means it’s working.”

Half an hour later, Felix made the announcement. “Time to rinse.”

They took turns in the bathroom. When Jeongin emerged, he looked like a baby chick with orange-blond fuzz. Seungmin followed, hair patchy and suspiciously green. Han’s was… silver-blue, but only on the sides. The top remained stubbornly brown.

Felix stared proudly at his creation. “We look like rebels. Like idols with trauma.”

Seungmin blinked. “We look like someone tried to color a K-pop photocard using expired highlighters.”

Then came the knock.

“Hey, has anyone seen—what the ACTUAL—”

Hyunjin stood at the door, eyes wide, mouth slowly dropping open like a horror movie protagonist finding the basement full of ghosts.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR HEADS?!”

The four turned slowly, grinning like kindergarteners caught drawing on the wall with lipstick.

“It’s art,” Felix said weakly.

Hyunjin blinked at them. “It’s a war crime.”

Jeongin shuffled forward. “Do we look like we could debut now?”

“You look like rejected Oompa Loompas.”

Then Hyunjin noticed the last unopened bleach box. “Oh no. NO. I am NOT joining this.”

Felix clutched his arm. “Come on, you’re already hot. Imagine if you went icy blonde. Icy Hyunjin. It’s marketable.”

Han tackled him from behind. “FOR THE CONCEPT.”

“I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS CONCEPT—HELP—”

The scene devolved into chaos. Hyunjin wrestled away, shrieking, “CHAN! CHAN HYUNG! THEY’RE COMING FOR MY SCALP!”

At that exact moment, the door swung open—and in walked Chan.

He froze. Took one look at the mess of bleach boxes, stained towels, discolored heads, and one terrified Hyunjin clutching the wall like a prisoner of war.

“What,” he said slowly, “in the name of all that is holy… is going on here.”

Felix raised a hand meekly. “Glow-up?”

Chan pinched the bridge of his nose, breathed deeply through his mouth, and walked straight to Felix. He leaned in, whispered something in his ear.

Felix gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

Chan raised an eyebrow.

Felix immediately turned to run but Chan caught him by the back of the hoodie with one hand and flicked him right on the forehead.

Felix yelped. “AH—abuse!”

“It’s called tough love,” Chan said, dragging him back like a rebellious puppy. “Now everyone go rinse your heads and dye it back to black. Immediately.”

“But what if the bleach made me mysterious?” Han asked.

“You look like a raccoon with depression.”

“…So mysterious?”

Chan stared.

Han shut up.

One hour later, the dorm smelled like regret and boxed hair dye. Everyone was back to their natural colors. Seungmin sat pouting at his reflection.

“My scalp is crying.”

Jeongin was rubbing coconut oil on his crispy ends. “I think my hair said goodbye halfway through the rinse cycle.”

Felix sat beside Hyunjin, who hadn’t moved in fifteen minutes.

“I’m sorry,” Felix whispered.

Hyunjin looked at him, blank. “I saw death. It had green hair.”

Felix snorted and leaned his head on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “But we’ll laugh about this when we debut, right?”

Hyunjin looked at him, expression softening. “Only if you never touch bleach again.”

Felix held up two fingers. “Scouts honor.”

“Felix. You’re Australian.”

“Still counts.”

Across the room, Chan muttered to himself as he scrubbed bleach residue off the floor.

“Why do I manage toddlers.”

>>>>>>

Chapter Text

The room was full of tension after the performance.

Minho stood center stage, chest rising and falling, sweat dripping down his temple. He knew. Even before JYP leaned into the mic, even before anyone said a word—he knew.

“I heard the mistake clearly,” JYP said, voice calm but final. “You messed the lyric.”

The words hit harder than the mistake itself.

Minho bowed deeply. “I’m sorry.”

No one moved.

Jisung’s hand shot to his mouth, eyes wide and glassy. Seungmin looked like he was holding his breath. Chan turned his head for a moment, as if trying to process the weight of it.

Minho’s name was called and eliminated.

And that was it.

Jisung broke first—his shoulders shaking, quiet sobs slipping out uncontrollably as he crouched down, fingers digging into his jeans. Seungmin stood frozen, blinking hard, lips pressed into a trembling line.

Chan walked forward slowly, wrapping both arms around Minho saying comforting words word. Minho didn’t resist. He just closed his eyes and leaned in, as if everything had caught up all at once.

Then the others followed.

Felix. Jeongin. Hyunjin. Changbin. Seungmin. Jisung clinging to him tightly, whispering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” like it was his fault.

They held him like they were afraid letting go meant goodbye forever.

Minho didn’t cry much—but his silence said everything.

“I’ll be okay,” he said eventually, smiling through the ache. “You guys better make it.”

Hyunjin choked back a sob. “Not without you.”

But they all knew the show would go on.

Even if it hurt like hell.

The dorm was quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet—but the heavy, suffocating kind that came after a storm.

Minho was gone.

His bed, still made. His shoes, no longer by the door. The corner of the practice whiteboard where his name had always been scribbled—now wiped clean.

No one had spoken much since the announcement earlier that day. Some cried quietly. Others simply went to their rooms and didn’t come out.

Jisung hadn’t eaten.

Hyunjin stood outside their shared room, clutching a paper bowl of cup noodles and a bottle of water. He hesitated, then slowly knocked.

“Jisung?”

No answer.

He gently pushed the door open. Jisung was curled up on his mattress, face buried into a hoodie that clearly wasn’t his.

Minho’s hoodie.

Hyunjin stepped inside quietly and placed the noodles and water down beside the bed. “You should eat something. It’s been hours.”

“I’m fine,” Jisung mumbled, voice raw.

“You’re not,” Hyunjin said softly, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Come on. Just a few bites.”

Jisung shifted, eyes red and puffy, and finally sat up. “I said I’m fine. ”

“You’re not,” Hyunjin repeated, pushing the noodles toward him. “You need energy. We still have evaluations.”

Jisung stared at the cup, then at Hyunjin, something flashing in his eyes—grief, guilt, frustration, all tangled up.

Suddenly, Jisung slapped the cup noodles out of Hyunjin’s hands.

The hot broth splashed onto the floor. The noodles flopped like sad worms across the floorboards. Hyunjin jolted back in shock as Jisung stood abruptly, shoving past him.

“ I SAID I’M FINE! ” he shouted.

“Jisung—!”

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

And then he was gone—storming down the hall, slamming the dorm door behind him.

Hyunjin stared at the mess, hands trembling, chest tight. He was about to run after him when a hand gently grabbed his wrist.

Felix.

“Don’t,” Felix said quietly. “Give him some space.”

“But—he—he’s not okay,” Hyunjin said, voice cracking. “He can’t be alone right now—”

“He needs to breathe, Hyun,” Felix said. “Just for a little.”

Hyunjin lowered his head, biting his tongue. Felix crouched beside him and began picking up the spilled cup and soaked noodles. Without a word, Hyunjin joined him, both of them silently cleaning the floor, the scent of instant broth lingering in the air like sadness.

As Hyunjin wiped a noodle off the baseboard, he glanced sideways—and froze.

Felix’s eyes were red.

“You’re crying too,” Hyunjin said softly.

Felix sniffed and looked away. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not.”

Felix shrugged. “I just… I didn’t think it’d be Minho. He worked so hard. He helped all of us. He was our sharpest dancer. He was supposed to be with us until the end.”

Hyunjin sat back, wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “I thought so too.”

The two sat there in silence for a long moment, just breathing.

Eventually, Felix stood and tugged on Hyunjin’s sleeve. “Come on.”

“To where?”

“Couch.”

They collapsed onto the dorm sofa, exhausted in every way. Hyunjin leaned his head back with a long sigh, but then blinked as Felix suddenly laid down—his head landing gently in Hyunjin’s lap like it was normal.

“Uh,” Hyunjin said, momentarily startled.

“Shh,” Felix replied, eyes already closed.

So Hyunjin stayed still, hands in his lap, staring down at the boy curled against him like a sleepy cat with a heavy heart.

Felix opened one eye. “You can pet my hair if you want. It’s soft.”

Hyunjin snorted, fingers brushing through the brown strands. “Cocky.”

“Factual.”

They both smiled—but it faded just as quickly.

After a while, Hyunjin’s voice came out small.

“…I’m scared.”

Felix tilted his head slightly, still resting. “Why?”

“The list,” Hyunjin whispered. 

Felix nodded.

“Me. You. Jeongin,” Hyunjin said. “We’re the next names. If we don’t do well next evaluation…”

He trailed off.

Felix reached up and gently tugged on Hyunjin’s hoodie sleeve, keeping him grounded. “We will.”

“But what if we don’t?” Hyunjin’s voice cracked. “What if it’s me next time? What if I’m the one packing my bags? I didn’t think it would hurt this much watching someone else leave.”

Felix opened his eyes. “I know. Me too.”

Hyunjin stared at the ceiling, blinking fast. “I wish they didn’t make us do this. I wish no one had to go.”

Felix was quiet for a moment. Then: “Me too. But if we don’t make it, I hope we’re all still proud.”

“I’m not even sure what proud feels like right now,” Hyunjin muttered.

Felix reached up again, this time placing his hand flat over Hyunjin’s chest. “Then just remember this.”

“What?”

“That we were all here. That we worked together. That we cried for each other. That this meant something.”

Hyunjin swallowed hard.

Felix smiled up at him. “And that I let you use my shoulder that one time when I couldn’t stop crying during vocal training.”

“You did not let me. You fell asleep on me.”

“Details.”

Hyunjin laughed softly. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here.”

Felix smiled. “Always.”

They sat like that for a while longer, quiet in the middle of the mourning dorm, the night stretching on around them. Somewhere down the hallway, the bathroom door clicked shut—Jisung returning, maybe. But for now, Hyunjin didn’t move. He gently rested a hand on Felix’s shoulder, thumb brushing across his collarbone.

He wished the world would stop changing. That things could stay exactly like this—a moment of warmth, however brief, between boys fighting their way to a dream.

He closed his eyes.

“I hope this is enough,” he whispered.

Felix didn’t say anything.

But he held Hyunjin’s hand tight. And maybe, for now, that was enough.

>>>>>>>

Chapter Text

“Line up!”

Chan’s voice echoed through the practice room like a military commander. The nine boys scrambled into position, some still chewing, some still yawning.

“What’s going on?” Jisung whispered to Jeongin.

“Maybe we’re debuting,” Jeongin whispered back.

“Are you dumb? ” Seungmin muttered. “We just got scolded for our vocals yesterday.”

“Maybe we’re un -debuting,” Hyunjin offered.

“Guys,” Chan said, rubbing his temples, “JYP-nim is giving you each ten minutes to call your families. No phones, no social media, just a supervised call. One by one.”

The room went silent.

Felix blinked. “…We get to call home?”

Jeongin blinked. “Wait, I forgot my mom’s ringtone.”

“It’s a call, not a mixtape!” Seungmin barked.

They were herded into a hallway outside the staff room. On the desk: one landline phone. A staff noona sat beside it with a stopwatch.

“You have ten minutes each. Don’t try anything stupid,” she said sweetly in a tone that somehow also meant I will body slam you if you prank call Domino’s.

Hyunjin was first.

He strutted into the room like a fashion icon, hoodie half-zipped, hair a mess. Five seconds after the door closed:

“EOMMAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Everyone outside flinched.

Felix’s eyes widened. “Was that a war cry or a greeting?”

“Same thing with Hyunjin,” Jeongin said.

Inside, Hyunjin was already pacing like a lunatic.

“Eomma, you won’t believe it. I grew abs! No, really! Kind of. A line showed up last week. It might have been a shadow. But STILL!”

Outside, they could hear muffled sniffles.

“…He’s crying,” Seungmin noted.

“No, his mom is,” Chan said.

Eight minutes later, Hyunjin walked out, eyes red, nose runny, face smug.

“Ten out of ten,” he sniffed. “I made her laugh, cry, and promise me kimchi stew when I debut.”

Changbin was next.

“Please be normal,” Hyunjin muttered.

Changbin stepped in, calm and composed. He sat straight, greeted politely, and spoke with the formality of a diplomat. Except—

“Appa, tell Umma to stop sending me vitamins. I’m not 80.”

The staff noona chuckled.

After ten minutes, he returned looking mildly annoyed. “They think I’ve lost weight. I gained muscle. There’s a difference.”

“Sure, Mr. Protein Powder,” Jisung quipped.

Seungmin went third.

The second the door closed—

“HELLOOOOOO!!!” followed by cackling.

They could hear his mom on speaker: “Did you eat?! You look thin on the show!”

“Mom, that’s my face. ”

“STOP JOKING! TELL ME THE TRUTH!”

Ten minutes of chaos later, Seungmin returned red-faced. “I told her I was fine and she threatened to go here with seaweed soup and fight JYP.”

“Iconic,” said Hyunjin.

Jisung went next, nearly tripped on the carpet, and somehow spent his entire call blushing and mumbling “Yes, no, okay, yes” every few seconds. He came back looking like he had just finished his finals.

“She made me promise to go to dental school if this doesn’t work out.”

Chan was after that. They all thought he’d be chill, being the oldest.

Five minutes in, they could hear him sniffling.

“Don’t worry, mum… I’m taking care of the kids.”

“DID YOU CRY?” Jisung yelled when he came back.

Chan wiped his face with his hoodie. “No. I got allergies. Emotional ones.”

“Bro.”

Jeongin went in and emerged smiling faintly. “My little brother asked if I’m famous yet. I said no. He hung up.”

“Savage,” said Seungmin.

And then… it was Felix’s turn.

He looked calm. He always did. But Hyunjin noticed his hands were fidgeting.

Felix stepped inside.

No one heard anything for the first two minutes.

Then—

“…Hi, Mum…”

The voice was quiet. Thinner. Softer than usual.

Hyunjin sat up straighter.

The call continued, hushed and slow. A few occasional chuckles. Then—

A long silence.

And then:

“…I miss you too.”

Hyunjin’s heart clenched.

The timer beeped faintly. Felix stepped out a few moments later.

His face was red.

Eyes glassy.

And when he looked up, he didn’t say a word. He just walked straight across the hallway—and into Hyunjin’s arms.

Hyunjin caught him instantly.

Felix buried his face into Hyunjin’s shoulder, body trembling. Hyunjin froze only for a second before wrapping both arms around him tightly.

“It’s okay,” Hyunjin whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Felix clung to him like he’d fall apart if he didn’t. His tears were silent, but they soaked into Hyunjin’s hoodie.

“I haven’t heard their voices in so long,” Felix choked. “My mum… my siblings… They sounded the same but it felt different. I didn’t want to hang up.”

“I know,” Hyunjin whispered. “I know.”

The hallway was quiet. The others watched, most of them teary-eyed too.

No one teased.

No one made a joke.

Not now.

Hyunjin rested his cheek against Felix’s hair. “Hey… We’re almost there, okay? Just a little longer.”

Felix nodded, breathing shaky. “I just… I want them to see me make it.”

“They will,” Hyunjin said softly. “They’ll see you on stage. And they’ll scream so loud, you’ll forget what missing them even felt like.”

Felix let out a laugh through the tears. “You’re cheesy.”

“You love it.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Eventually, Felix pulled back, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a mess.”

Hyunjin smiled and reached up to fix Felix’s bangs. “Too late. You are a mess.”

Felix laughed again.

The staff noona sniffled. “Okay, that was the most emotional one.”

Chan clapped his hands. “Alright, everyone. Emotions over. We’ve got dance practice in ten minutes!”

Groans echoed down the hallway.

“Let me emotionally recover!” Changbin wailed.

“I need water AND therapy!” Jisung added.

As they shuffled back into the practice room, Felix gently bumped Hyunjin’s shoulder.

“Thanks.”

Hyunjin smiled. “For what?”

“For being where I want to run to.”

The dance room was hot. Not emotionally. Literally. The AC was broken, and everyone was sweating like they were being punished for existing.

Chan clapped his hands once. “Okay! From the top. One more time!”

Groans echoed across the room like a funeral chant.

“WHY do we need to do it again?!” Jisung whined, dramatically sliding down the mirror like a soap opera character.

“Because your footwork looks like a confused crab,” Seungmin muttered, towel over his head.

Felix flopped on the floor beside Hyunjin, who was stretching his neck. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin mumbled, glancing sideways.

Across the room, Jisung was tying his shoelaces with aggressive determination, refusing to even glance Hyunjin’s way.

The two hadn’t spoken since The Incident.

A week ago, Hyunjin had tried to comfort Jisung with cup noodles during Minho’s elimination meltdown. Jisung, in the peak of his grief and breakdown, slapped the noodles. They went flying. Drama ensued. Apologies were never exchanged. And thus: Cold War.

Even now, during choreo, the tension was obvious. Jisung danced like Hyunjin didn’t exist. Hyunjin danced like Jisung was furniture.

It was ridiculous.

But no one dared bring it up.

“Alright, reset!” Chan called out. “Positions!”

The music blared.

They began—sharp, clean, synchronized chaos.

Until…

Jisung spun too fast. His foot caught on his own heel. His balance said, “no thanks.”

He launched forward—directly into Hyunjin, who had just hit his mark.

“OH—”

“NO—”

THUD.

Bodies hit the floor.

Everyone froze.

Jisung and Hyunjin were face to face, limbs tangled, sweat meeting sweat, hearts pounding in unison. It was dead silent for a second.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

“GET OFF ME!”

“YOU’RE ON MY ARM!”

“WHY IS YOUR NOSE TOUCHING MY NOSE?!”

They scrambled backward like cats tossed into water, both shrieking, flailing, dramatically crawling away in opposite directions.

Felix was wheezing in a corner. Jeongin looked traumatized. Chan had his hands on his hips like a tired dad.

Seungmin sighed. “Can you two PLEASE just talk again before someone dies?”

Hyunjin and Jisung stood on opposite sides of the room, panting.

“I still want my noodles back,” Hyunjin muttered.

“I SAID I WAS SAD!” Jisung yelled.

“YOU NEVER SAID SORRY!”

“I WAS GRIEVING!”

“You aimed the noodles at me!”

The others slowly backed away.

“You guys are like an old married couple,” Felix mumbled through laughter.

Hyunjin blinked. Jisung blinked.

Then—both burst out laughing. Loud, breathless, ridiculous laughter.

Maybe the Cold War was finally over.

Kind of.

Chan threw them towels. “Now wipe your faces and don’t kiss on accident again. ”

“WE DIDN’T KISS!”

“YET,” Seungmin said under his breath.

Hyunjin and Jisung screamed again.

Just another day at dance practice.

>>>>>

Chapter Text

Hyunjin and Jeongin were just trying to get snacks.

It was after their dismissal at SOPA, and their brains felt like microwaved tofu. They had two hours to kill before going up to JYP building for dance practice and wanted nothing more than banana milk and chips. So naturally, they wandered outside the JYP building like two unsupervised kindergarteners.

That’s when she appeared.

A middle-aged woman with a bright yellow vest and a smile that was way too intense. She approached them near the convenience store, arms wide like she was welcoming lost sheep. “Boys! You must have such heavy souls… would you like to learn about true happiness? ”

Hyunjin blinked. “Ma’am, we’re just trying to buy Honey Butter Chips.”

Jeongin, always the polite one, bowed deeply. “We don’t have time, sorry.”

But she was persistent. “We have snacks and truth! It’s only one hour. Free entrance. Life-changing results!”

“Did she say snacks?” Hyunjin whispered.

“She said truth,” Jeongin whispered back. “Which sounds like snacks, emotionally.”

So they followed her.

Big mistake.

They were led into a brightly lit room inside a strange office building five blocks away. A circle of people in white robes clapped when they entered. Someone offered them melon bread and sat them on plush cushions. It was warm. Weirdly warm. Why were there so many candles?

A man in a glittering beige suit appeared and introduced himself as “Brother Sun.” He spoke in metaphors. Things like “the soul is a balloon waiting to pop with light” and “hydration is only spiritual when consumed with intention.”

Hyunjin leaned over. “I think we joined a yoga pyramid scheme.”

Jeongin looked terrified. “They keep saying ‘rebirth’ like it’s a scheduled event.”

Then came the chanting.

One woman stood in front of them holding a crystal orb and started humming a melody that sounded suspiciously like the Naruto soundtrack. Another man began waving burning sage in their faces. A child (where did the child come from??) gave Hyunjin a daisy and said, “You have soft boy energy. You’re ready.”

“I don’t want to be ready,” Hyunjin whispered. “I want to go home.”

Jeongin was now holding a pamphlet titled “The 8 Stages of Ascension and Inner Laundry.” He flipped to Stage 6. It included “giving away worldly distractions,” which apparently included mobile phones, caffeine, and k-pop.

“Oh my god,” Jeongin muttered. “They want us to quit being trainees.”

Hyunjin gasped. “Over Chan’s dead, bleached hair.”

Things escalated quickly.

Brother Sun began asking them questions. “What are your goals? Your fears? What color is your spirit aura when you cry?”

Hyunjin panicked and blurted out, “Pink. It’s always pink. I sob neon.”

Then he tried to leave.

But the exit was now “sacred space” and “cannot be disturbed during spiritual awakening hour.” The door was physically blocked by a guy named Yoongil who looked like he lifted rocks recreationally. Jeongin tried to reason with him and ended up in a lecture about moon cycles.

“We’re trapped,” Jeongin said. “We’re going to miss practice.”

“We’re going to miss life, ” Hyunjin groaned, wiping spiritual mist off his face.

Then came the “initiation quiz.”

A smiling auntie handed them both a sheet with questions like “What does the light within say to the ocean of your thoughts?” and “Have you been cleansed by the fire of surrender?”

Hyunjin circled “Maybe” for everything. Jeongin just wrote “I want to call my mom.”

Desperate, Hyunjin leaned in and whispered, “Okay. On three. We bolt.”

“We’ll never outrun Yoongil.”

“Then we confuse them. Follow my lead.”

Hyunjin suddenly stood up, dramatically clutching his chest. “The spirit!! it’s speaking to me! ”

Everyone gasped.

Jeongin, catching on, leapt up. “He’s ascending!”

“I am full of…the moon’s vibrations!”

Brother Sun clapped with pride. “He’s chosen!”

“I need to go outside and scream into a tree!” Hyunjin declared. “To release my past self!”

Yoongil paused. “That is… part of Stage 7.”

“YES!” Jeongin yelled. “We must do Stage 7! RIGHT NOW! OUTSIDE!”

They grabbed their bags, bowed to the room like confused actors leaving a weird play, and sprinted out the door as fast as their exhausted trainee legs could carry them.

They didn’t stop until they were four blocks away, hiding behind a vending machine and panting like they had just escaped a Hollywood kidnapping.

“That was the weirdest hour of my life,” Hyunjin said, hugging the vending machine like it owed him something.

Jeongin collapsed onto the curb. “They almost made us burn our audition shoes.”

Hyunjin wiped fake sage ash off his jacket. “Never following a snack lady again. That’s a promise.”

Jeongin looked at him, wide-eyed. “…We didn’t even get snacks.”

They both screamed.

Later that night, back in the dorm, Felix blinked at them as they told the story with flailing arms and exaggerated sound effects.

“You almost joined a cult for chips? ” Felix asked.

“We were vulnerable! ” Hyunjin defended.

“I was spiritually ambushed!” Jeongin added.

Chan walked in just in time to hear “Brother Sun” and “aura color quiz” and calmly banned them both from leaving the building unsupervised for a week.

“You’re lucky you didn’t end up in matching robes,” Chan said.

“We DID,” Hyunjin muttered. “They made us wear them for thirty minutes.”

Seungmin didn’t even blink. “Honestly, I’d believe it if they came home with tattoos that say ‘I surrender to the light.’”

Hyunjin and Jeongin glared.

“You try resisting free melon bread and emotional manipulation!” Jeongin snapped.

They never went near that block again.

But sometimes, when the dorm got too quiet, Jeongin would lean over to Hyunjin and whisper, “What color is your aura when you cry?”

And Hyunjin would throw a pillow at him.

It started on a Monday.

The mailbox was usually filled with boring things: utility bills, random junk, and sometimes fan letters they weren’t supposed to open yet. But this time, Jeongin pulled out a thick, shiny envelope with no return address, sealed with a golden sticker in the shape of a lotus. That was already suspicious.

“Why does this look like it’s cursed?” Seungmin asked, sipping banana milk.

“Maybe it’s coupons,” Jisung said, tearing it open without hesitation.

Hyunjin and Jeongin screamed in unison. “WAIT NO!!!”

But it was too late.

Inside was a folded brochure, glowing with pastel gradients and holographic stars. The front read: “Your Path to Ascension Awaits! Brother Sun Welcomes You Back.” There was even a picture of a goat on a mountain with the words “Do You Feel Called?”

Jisung blinked. “…Is this a cult pamphlet?”

Felix leaned over. “Why is it glittery?”

Hyunjin immediately snatched it away. “This is from them. The sage people.”

Chan, walking into the room, raised an eyebrow. “Sage people?”

Jeongin buried his face into a pillow. “We were almost sacrificed for melon bread, hyung.”

Felix took the pamphlet and began reading it dramatically, like it was a Shakespeare monologue. “Stage One: Awakening. Shed your worldly weight. Give up your phone, your stress, and your attachment to K-pop…”

Jisung threw a sock. “Rude!”

“Stage Two,” Felix continued. “Receive the Moon Wash. Bathe in sacred water while singing the hymn of rebirth.”

“That’s just a bath with a soundtrack,” Seungmin muttered.

Hyunjin stood up like a soldier in a war film. “Listen. We swore never to speak of that day again.”

“You mean the day you said your aura turns pink when you cry?” Jeongin grinned.

Hyunjin tackled him instantly. “YOU PROMISED TO TAKE THAT TO THE GRAVE!”

Meanwhile, Felix stared at the pamphlet like it was haunted. “Why do they even have our dorm address?”

“Maybe we gave it when we were signing the fake guestbook,” Hyunjin muttered, mid-headlock.

“I signed it ‘Yang Jeongin, trainee, blood type O, allergic to bad vibes,’” Jeongin admitted.

Chan sat down, snatched the pamphlet, and read it seriously. “Stage Six: Deliverance through Dance. You must interpret your soul’s rebirth through freestyle.”

There was a long pause.

Then Jisung stood and struck a random pose. “My soul is doing the worm.”

Felix joined in, voguing with intense seriousness. “My aura is doing a hair flip.”

Hyunjin, still on top of Jeongin, yelled, “STOP GIVING THEM IDEAS.”

Seungmin looked at Chan, deadpan. “Do we report this to JYP?”

“No,” Chan sighed. “We report it to the trash.”

He walked over, crumpled the pamphlet, and dunked it in the bin like he was playing basketball with a demon.

The room calmed for exactly seven seconds.

Then the doorbell rang.

Everyone froze.

“NO WAY,” Jeongin whispered. “It’s them. They’ve come to collect us.”

Hyunjin grabbed a rice paddle from the kitchen. “I’M NOT READY FOR MOON WASH ROUND TWO!”

Felix dove behind the couch. “I REFUSE TO GIVE UP HAIR DYE!”

Seungmin pressed himself against the wall, whispering, “I’m too sarcastic to be spiritually reborn.”

Chan groaned and opened the door.

It was the mailman. Dropping off more brochures.

The boys peered out suspiciously as the mailman left, unbothered.

Seungmin picked up the package and read the label. “This one’s for… Brother Hwang Hyunjin ?”

Hyunjin screamed, “THEY GAVE ME A TITLE?!”

In the end, Chan confiscated everything cult-related. The sage-scented papers, the cursed goat stickers, even the sparkly flyer Jeongin secretly kept under his bed “for art reference.”

That night, as they all settled down in the living room, Felix whispered, “Do you think they’ll try again?”

Jeongin whispered back, “Only if they hear Hyunjin’s aura is extra pink this week.”

A slipper flew across the room.

And just like that, balance was restored.

>>>>>>

Chapter Text

The air in the practice room was thick with sweat, frustration, and exhaustion.

It was already past midnight, but the mirrors were still fogged from nonstop movement, and Chan’s voice echoed again, sharp, precise, relentless. “Again! From the top. No one leaves until we hit that drop clean.”

Jeongin’s legs ached. His lungs burned. He kept pushing anyway, jaw clenched, hair plastered to his forehead. His footwork was a millisecond off, just enough for Chan to notice.

“Jeongin,” Chan barked, “you’re off. Again.”

The youngest froze for half a second before nodding quickly, breath hitching. “Sorry.”

Hyunjin glanced at him from the corner of his eye, but said nothing. Everyone was too tired. Even the silence felt like pressure.

They ran the choreography again. And again. And again. Someone’s shoulder cracked. Someone else tripped. The clock on the wall ticked into tomorrow.

“Your center point is too wide,” Chan said again, eyes on Jeongin.

“I’m trying—”

“Try harder.”

The words weren’t cruel. But they were heavy.

And Jeongin, who had been doing his best for hours, bit the inside of his cheek and nodded again, eyes shining but unshed. No one dared sit. No one dared speak. Even the music felt like a punishment now.

When Chan finally turned off the speaker, the room was silent except for panting. Everyone dropped to the floor like puppets with cut strings.

Jeongin stayed standing.

He looked like he was trying not to cry.

Chan stared at him for a second longer, then sighed and walked over, his voice lower. “Come here.”

Jeongin flinched.

“I’m sorry,” Chan said quietly. “I didn’t mean to be that harsh. I just…”

He ran a hand through his damp hair, his frustration cracking into something softer. “I want all of us to debut. I want you to debut.”

Jeongin didn’t answer right away. Then, softly: “I know.”

Chan looked at everyone else slumped on the floor, and for the first time all night, his voice lost its edge. “Go get some rest. You earned it.”

Jeongin sat down next to Hyunjin, who gently nudged his shoulder. Felix tossed him a towel. Jisung gave him water without saying a word.

And just like that, the tension melted.

Not completely.

But enough.

Because they all knew. Pressure, pain, and exhaustion meant one thing: they were getting closer.

Closer to debut.

Closer to that dream.

And they would crawl toward it, together.

The dorm was quiet.

Practice had drained the life out of them. Even the sound of someone brushing their teeth in the bathroom had stopped twenty minutes ago. All six of them had long since showered, crawled into their beds, and collapsed with the weight of a day spent dancing, repeating, and being scolded.

In the shared bedroom, there were three bunk beds crammed against the walls.

Hyunjin was at the bottom of the one nearest the window, curled up in his hoodie like a moody shrimp. Jisung was at the middle bunk, legs flung dramatically over his blanket like he’d been knocked out mid-monologue. Changbin was on the third bottom bunk, hugging a pillow to his chest, quietly scrolling through memories of missed lyrics in his brain.

Above them, Jeongin lay alone in the top bunk, arms wrapped around his blanket, back turned to the ceiling. The other two top bunks were more myth than mattress now, stuffed with extra hoodies, training clothes, old notebooks, and approximately twelve half-empty water bottles. Jeongin was the only one still claiming the upper realm like a lone survivor.

It was almost peaceful.

Until the sniffle.

At first, they ignored it. Could’ve been a cold. Maybe someone turned in their sleep.

But then came another. Sharper. Wet. Almost hidden but not quite.

Hyunjin sat up. “Jeongin?”

Silence.

Jisung lifted his head from his pillow, frowning. “Did he fall asleep crying?”

Changbin turned toward the ceiling. “Jeongin-ah… you okay?”

A soft, muffled voice replied. “Yeah. Sorry. Just… tired.”

But the way his voice wobbled on that last word said everything. There was a beat of silence between them.

Then Hyunjin kicked off his blanket and stood up, his hair a mess. “Hey. Come down for a second.”

Jeongin didn’t move. “I’m fine.”

Hyunjin tilted his head toward the ceiling. “You’re crying into your mattress.”

“It’s not that bad…”

“You sound like a sad dolphin,” Jisung added helpfully.

A pause. Then the quiet creak of the bunk bed ladder.

Jeongin climbed down slowly, blanket wrapped around him like a burrito of despair. His eyes were puffy, his nose red, and his mouth was trembling like he’d been holding it in for too long.

“I just…” he said, voice small, “I tried really hard today, but it felt like Chan-hyung kept looking at me like I wasn’t enough. I know I’m the youngest, but I want to keep up. I don’t want to be the reason someone else gets cut.”

He looked like he hated saying it out loud.

Changbin moved over on his bed and patted the space beside him. “Come here.”

Jeongin sat. Hyunjin leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. “You’re not a burden. You’re not behind. You’re just… a kid doing something really hard. And you’re doing it well.”

Jisung reached out with one hand and dramatically patted Jeongin’s head. “Even if you cry like a wet fox, we still love you.”

Jeongin let out a small, ugly laugh.

“And for the record,” Changbin added, “we all had days when Chan made us feel like that. You’re not alone.”

“I got yelled at for sneezing once,” Jisung said. “Mid spin. He said I threw off the beat.”

“Mid sneeze!” Hyunjin gasped. “You were doing the Hellevator arm thing too.”

“I NEARLY DIED,” Jisung cried.

Jeongin wiped his eyes, now laughing between hiccups. “I remember that day. You made Chan flinch.”

“Exactly,” Jisung said proudly. “You’ll be fine. Chan is like that to all of us because he can’t afford to lose anyone after Minho hyung. I’m still mourning, you know.”

Hyunjin stood up and rustled Jeongin’s hair. “Now. Back to bed, little man.”

Jeongin blinked. “Can I… stay here for a bit?”

The three bottom-bunkers looked at each other, then shuffled like Tetris pieces until there was enough space for Jeongin to squeeze in the middle.

“I’m the cream in this emotional Oreo,” Jeongin mumbled.

Jisung hugged him sideways. “That’s right. Feel our love. Smell our exhaustion.”

Changbin yawned. “I’m not hugging anyone. I’m too sweaty.”

Hyunjin laid back down beside them, voice softer now. “Try to sleep, Jeongin-ah. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Thanks,” Jeongin whispered, eyes already fluttering.

As the dorm returned to quiet, the youngest trainee lay squished between the warm weight of people who refused to let him spiral alone.

And for the first time that day, Jeongin didn’t feel like the youngest. He felt like part of something solid. Something safe.

It was 3:12 a.m.

In the shared bedroom, the boys were finally asleep.

Jisung lay spread like a starfish, limbs splayed in every direction. Jeongin was squished up beside him like a koala latched for dear life. Changbin had the bottom bunk to himself and was sleeping diagonally like he was auditioning for a mattress commercial. Hyunjin, buried under two blankets, was on his side facing the wall, dead silent but very much awake.

The door creaked.

A shadow appeared. Cautious. Hesitant.

It tiptoed across the room in mismatched socks and paused at the edge of Hyunjin’s bed.

“…Hyunjin,” Felix whispered.

No response.

“Hyunjin,” he tried again, barely louder than a mosquito.

Still nothing.

Felix sighed and did what any emotionally fragile, milk-drunk trainee would do at 3 a.m., he carefully climbed into Hyunjin’s bed like a secret mission, only to be met with—

“WHAT THE HELL?”

“WHY IS FELIX HERE?!”

“IS THAT A GHOST??”

Jisung, Hyunjin and Jeongin shouted in unison.

The room exploded.

Hyunjin flinched so hard he smacked his head on the wall. Jisung sat up like he’d been electrocuted. Jeongin squeaked and clung tighter to Jisung. Changbin sat up and pointed an accusatory finger. “LEE FELIX. WHY ARE YOU IN THIS ROOM. IT’S 3 A.M.”

Felix froze, half-crawled into Hyunjin’s bed like a raccoon caught stealing chips. “I, uh… dropped something.”

Changbin squinted. “Dropped what? Your sanity?”

“No, I—um, my… sock?” Felix looked down at his already-worn socks. “Wait. I mean, Seungmin kicked me. In his sleep. And I hit my head. So I needed a second opinion.”

“On your head injury?” Hyunjin blinked, still dazed.

“Yes.”

Jeongin rubbed his eyes dramatically. “Felix hyung, just say you wanted to sleep next to Hyunjin. I’m literally here with Jisung after my emotional meltdown.”

Felix stood there, frozen like a failed burglar, then exhaled in defeat. “…Okay. Yeah. I couldn’t sleep. Can I stay?”

Everyone muttered various grunts of approval.

Hyunjin lifted the blanket. “Come on before Changbin starts monologuing again.”

Felix slid in beside him with a triumphant sigh, getting cozy immediately.

Changbin dramatically threw his blanket over his head. “Good night to everyone except the two people whispering feelings into each other’s faces.”

Hyunjin flopped back onto his side. “We’re not—”

“I CAN HEAR YOU THINKING,” Changbin replied.

A few moments passed.

The room settled.

“I drank milk,” Felix whispered like it was a confession.

Hyunjin turned to him slowly. “…And?”

“And it didn’t help.”

Hyunjin reached up, ruffling Felix’s soft hair. “Maybe because you drink it like you’re in a drama scene.”

Felix pouted in the dark. “It was warm.”

“You warm milked yourself at 3 a.m. and now you’re here breathing on my neck.”

Felix giggled. “You sound jealous.”

“Of warm milk?”

“Of me breathing on your neck.”

Felix didn’t make sense. It was like that. Felix sometimes threw random words that didn’t make sense but Hyunjin secretly loved those. Hyunjin groaned into his pillow. “Go to sleep, drama prince.”

Felix snorted. “You’re just mad ‘cause I climbed into your bed like a dream.”

Hyunjin kicked his shin under the blanket. “You climbed in like a worm.”

Felix smacked his shoulder lightly. “You love it.”

“SHUT UUUUUUP,” Changbin’s muffled voice came from across the room. “I CAN STILL HEAR YOU FLIRTING. JUST SLEEP. PLEASE. I AM BEGGING. I AM AN OLD AND NEED REST.”

“Sorry Binnie hyung,” Felix giggled again.

Silence returned.

A few minutes passed.

Felix shifted, slowly wrapping his arms around Hyunjin under the blanket. He buried his face against Hyunjin’s chest like a child.

Hyunjin went stiff as a board.

His heart. Oh no.

His heart was raging.

Absolutely pounding like a cartoon character who just saw their crush in a drama slow-mo montage.

He swallowed. Tried not to breathe too loud. Tried not to exist. But it was no use.

Felix whispered, “Your heart’s too fast.”

Hyunjin practically died inside.

“It’s probably the wind,” he whispered back, lying like a damn coward.

Felix giggled into his chest, so close Hyunjin felt the vibration. “Hyunjin.”

“Mm?”

“This is nice.”

“…It is.”

And even though his heart refused to shut up, even though Changbin was one grunt away from throwing his pillow across the room, and even though Jeongin had fully stolen Jisung’s blanket in his sleep, Hyunjin closed his eyes with a tiny smile.

Because yeah.

It really was.

There was a pause. Soft, sleepy air between them.

Then slowly, hesitantly at first, Hyunjin moved his arms, sliding them around Felix’s waist and pulling him closer. Not just casually. Tighter. Like he needed it too.

Felix’s breath hitched for a second.

Hyunjin buried his face in Felix’s hair, sneakily kissing the top of his head, eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t tell anyone,” he murmured.

Felix just smiled, his voice a soft hum against Hyunjin’s chest. “I won’t.”

And with that, they finally let the quiet take them.

Two hearts, too loud, under one blanket.

Even Changbin stayed quiet this time.

Probably because he was pretending to sleep… while texting Seungmin about the “Hyunlix Midnight Cuddle Scandal.”

>>>>>>>

Chapter Text

“Head count!” a staff voice called.

Felix hopped up to open the door, revealing two JYP staff members holding clipboards. “Eight?” one asked briskly.

“Yes, ma’am,” Felix answered, stepping aside so they could see the room.

The staffer’s eyes scanned the bunks and floor. “One, two… eight. Good. Curfew’s in effect. No leaving after 10 p.m.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the boys chorused, some more convincingly than others.

The staff lingered a moment, then glanced toward the kitchen. “3RACHA, dining table please.”

Chan, Changbin, and Jisung shuffled out of the room, the easy chatter in their expressions dimming to something more focused. They disappeared toward the dining area, their voices dropping to low murmurs.

Hyunjin tilted his head, watching them go. “You think it’s about the next evaluation?”

Felix’s smile faded slightly. “Probably. It’s getting close.”

In the kitchen, the three producers of the group sat across from the staff. Chan’s fingers tapped a restless rhythm against the tabletop. “Is this about song selection?”

The staffer nodded, flipping through a binder. “Yes, and more. The next evaluation is critical. You know how the format works. Weak performances can mean elimination. The company’s watching you closely.”

Changbin leaned forward, jaw tight. “We’ve been preparing. The track’s almost done.”

Jisung glanced between them. “Almost isn’t enough. We need it perfect before next week.”

Chan exhaled slowly. “We’ll get there. But we’ll have to push harder. Rearrange the verses, maybe add more harmonies. We can’t afford mistakes.”

The staff closed the binder. “Good. Keep your unit strong. It reflects on the whole team.”

Back in the room, Hyunjin flopped dramatically onto the bed. “I want tteokbokki.”

Felix looked up from folding a stray hoodie. “You just heard them say it’s curfew.”

“But the place down the street!” Hyunjin insisted, rolling onto his stomach like a restless child. “The spicy one with the fish cakes. It’s destiny.”

“It’s curfew,” Felix repeated, his voice firm but amused. “Do you want to be eliminated for violating rules?”

Hyunjin pouted. “If I’m eliminated, it’ll be because I starved to death.”

Jeongin snorted without looking up from the Game Boy. “Drama llama.”

Seungmin elbowed him lightly, eyes still on the tiny screen. “Shhh, I’m about to beat the gym leader.”

Hyunjin rolled over and hung his head off the side of the bunk, peering at them upside down. “You two are like an old married couple.”

“Better than you whatever you have with Felix,” Jeongin shot back.

Felix laughed under his breath, tossing a small pillow at Hyunjin’s dangling face. “Stop bothering them. And stop thinking about tteokbokki. We can have it after practice tomorrow.”

Hyunjin groaned like that was a thousand years away. “Tomorrow’s so far… What if the shop closes forever before then?”

“It won’t,” Felix said, leaning back against the wall with an exasperated smile.

In the distance, the voices from the dining table continued. Chan’s calm tone, Changbin’s deeper bursts of emphasis, Jisung’s quicker replies. The mood in the main room was serious, but here, in their cramped little corner, it was lighter, a bubble of ridiculousness amid the looming weight of evaluations and rules.

Hyunjin lay upside down again, feet on the wall, hair spilling toward the floor, staring intently at Felix.

“Lix,” he whispered like they were spies in enemy territory.

Felix didn’t even look up from rolling his socks.“No.”

“You didn’t even hear my plan!”

Felix sighed. “I heard enough earlier to know it’s dumb. And against the rules.”

Hyunjin rolled off the bed in a dramatic heap. “It’s tteokbokki, Lix. Tteokbokki doesn’t wait for rules.”

That was how, five minutes later, the two of them were hunched over on the floor beside Jeongin and Seungmin, who were still locked in their Game Boy battle.

“Okay,” Hyunjin started, spreading his hands like a general briefing his troops. “We need a diversion. If we just walk out, staff will hear the door.”

Felix nodded reluctantly. “We’re not getting caught.”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “Why am I even in this?”

“Because,” Hyunjin said, pointing dramatically, “you own the vacuum.”

Seungmin stared. “You want me to vacuum at night?”

“Yes,” Felix cut in. “Just for a few minutes. The noise will cover the door opening.”

Jeongin looked up. “And me?”

“If staff walks by, you cough. Loudly. Like… pretend you’re dying,” Hyunjin said with a serious nod.

Jeongin smirked. “I can do that.”

They went over the “plan” twice more, Hyunjin using an empty snack wrapper as a pretend map of the dorm. Seungmin agreed only after Felix promised to give him the first bite of the tteokbokki. Jeongin asked for two bites. Hyunjin agreed to “see what he could do.”

At exactly 10:23 p.m., the operation began.

Seungmin plugged in the vacuum cleaner and flipped it on, its loud whirring instantly filling the room. Felix and Hyunjin exchanged a look—go time!

They moved toward the door in slow motion, like they were in a heist movie. Felix eased the door open while Hyunjin crouched low, whispering “duh-duh-duh-duh” in the Mission Impossible theme under his breath.

Jeongin, true to his role, stood near the hallway and let out a hacking cough so violent it could have fooled a nurse. The sound blended perfectly with the vacuum’s roar.

Felix slipped through first, then Hyunjin, the two of them shuffling down the hall with the subtlety of two raccoons escaping a trash can.

They were almost out when Hyunjin froze.

Across the hall, Chan had just stepped out of the kitchen.

Chan’s eyes went wide. The leader looked from Hyunjin to Felix, back to Hyunjin, his brain clearly processing the stupidity unfolding in front of him.

Felix’s mouth opened to explain, but Chan’s hand shot up in a silent “don’t.”

Behind Chan, a staff member’s voice floated out. “Bang Chan, can you come here for a second?”

Chan turned his head, then glanced back at them with a look that screamed Go. Now.

Felix grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist, dragging him toward the stairs.

“Why are you just standing there?” the staff member asked, stepping closer.

Chan moved fast, blocking their view of the hallway entirely. “Oh, uh—I was just—” He faked a cough. “I think someone’s sick. Jeongin maybe?”

“Jeongin’s sick?” The staffer frowned. “Where is he?”

“In the room,” Chan said quickly, stepping forward to steer the staff back toward the dorms. “Seungmin’s with him. Probably just… allergies. Or dust from the vacuum.”

The staff paused. “Why are they vacuuming at this hour?”

Chan laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… you know Seungmin. He likes things clean.”

The conversation faded as Chan successfully led the staff in the opposite direction, away from the door.

Just outside the dorm, Hyunjin and Felix pressed themselves against the wall beside the vending machines, listening for footsteps.

“Did… Chan just save us?” Hyunjin whispered.

Felix’s lips curled into a small smile. “Looks like it.” Hyunjin grinned, his earlier dramatics replaced with giddy energy. “We are so buying him a tteokbokki, too.”

They slipped out the side door, the cool night air hitting their faces like freedom. Hyunjin inhaled deeply, eyes sparkling. “Ahhh. Smells like victory.”

Felix rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin. “Come on, before someone actually catches us.”

Somewhere above them, Chan stood in the hallway, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. “These kids are gonna give migraines before debut…”

The little shop down the street was still open, warm light spilling out onto the pavement and the smell of chili sauce drifting into the night. Hyunjin practically skipped inside, Felix trailing behind with his hands in his hoodie pocket, looking far too relaxed for someone who had just broken curfew.

The ahjumma behind the counter looked up and immediately smiled. “Ah, Hyunjin-ah, Felix-ah! The usual?”

“Yes, please!” Hyunjin said, already bouncing on his heels. “Two portions of tteokbokki, one with extra fish cake, and kimbap too—oh, and the strawberry milk, please.”

Felix just slid into their usual seat by the window, resting his chin in his hand and watching with that small, amused smile he always had when Hyunjin went full in charge. The ahjumma chuckled at how much Hyunjin was ordering while Felix sat there looking like he was on vacation.

When the food came out, Hyunjin carried everything over himself. Two steaming plates of bright red tteokbokki, fish cakes skewered on sticks, and two bottles of strawberry milk. He placed Felix’s plate down carefully, like he was serving royalty, before plopping into his seat.

Felix gave him a soft “thank you” and immediately picked up a piece of tteokbokki, blowing on it before taking a bite. His eyes crinkled into crescents, lips curling into a smile as he chewed. “It’s perfect,” he murmured.

Hyunjin stabbed a piece with his chopsticks and shoved it into his mouth. The spicy-sweet flavor hit instantly, and his eyes widened in pure bliss. “Oh my god,” he said around a mouthful, clutching his chest. “This is… this is art. This is love. This is—”

“Food?” Felix teased, laughing.

Hyunjin pointed at him with his chopsticks. “Don’t mock my emotions. This is spiritual.”

He kept eating with dramatic sighs and little hums of happiness, leaning back in his chair after every other bite like the flavors were physically overwhelming. Felix just watched, shaking his head and laughing every time Hyunjin got a fleck of sauce on his cheek.

At one point, Hyunjin looked up and caught Felix smiling at him, really smiling, eyes curved into perfect crescents, the shop’s warm light making the freckles across his cheeks glow. For a second, Hyunjin forgot about the tteokbokki entirely.

Felix noticed him staring and tilted his head. “What?”

Hyunjin grinned, softer this time. “Nothing. Just… you look happy.”

Felix’s smile widened. “I am. You’re ridiculous, but… this is nice.”

Something about the way Felix’s voice softened made Hyunjin’s chest feel too warm. They ate slower after that, letting the comfortable quiet settle between them, their chopsticks occasionally clinking as they reached for the same piece of fish cake and laughed about it.

By the time they finished, Hyunjin leaned back with a satisfied sigh, wiping his mouth. “Best night ever,” he declared.

Felix just shook his head, still smiling that sweet, crescent-eyed smile that made Hyunjin feel like breaking curfew had been worth it.

They were halfway through wiping the sauce from their plates when Hyunjin suddenly slammed his chopsticks down.

“Lix,” he whispered with urgency. Felix blinked. “What?”

“We can’t go back empty-handed. We need to bring offerings.”

Five minutes later, they were leaning over the counter like two kids at a candy store, rattling off an order that could feed a small army. “Two tteokbokki, two kimbap, extra fish cakes, dumplings… oh, and two banana milks,” Hyunjin listed, counting on his fingers.

Felix added, “Make that three banana milks. Jeongin will cry if he doesn’t get one.”

r

The ahjumma laughed, disappearing into the kitchen. When she returned with bags so full they were practically bursting, Hyunjin and Felix looked at them like they’d just been handed treasure chests.

“This is beautiful,” Hyunjin whispered.

Felix nodded solemnly. “A work of art.”

They shuffled to the counter, each carrying two steaming bags. Hyunjin set his down and patted his pockets. “Wallet… wallet…” He froze. “…Wallet?”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me—”

Hyunjin’s eyes went wide. “I left it. In my other pants. At the dorm.”

Felix laughed, reaching for his own pocket. “It’s fine, I—” His smile dropped. “…Hyunjin. I left mine too.”

They stared at each other in horror.

“This is it,” Hyunjin muttered. “Our criminal debut. JYP trainees arrested for tteokbokki theft.”

Felix’s mouth fell open. “Do you think they’ll put us in the news? ‘Two young men caught red-sauced.’”

Hyunjin’s eyes got glassy. “Lix, I’m too young to live behind bars.”

Felix clutched the bags like they were babies. “We can’t leave them behind. They have dumplings.”

They were about two seconds away from dramatically throwing themselves at the ahjumma’s feet when she looked up from the register, confused. “What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin stepped forward like he was delivering tragic news. “We… we have no money.”

Felix added softly, “We’re… bad people.”

The ahjumma blinked, then burst out laughing. “You two are ridiculous. Just pay me next time. You’re regulars. I know you’ll come back.”

Hyunjin and Felix froze. “You trust us?” Hyunjin asked, voice trembling.

“Of course,” she said, waving them off.

That was all it took. Hyunjin dropped the bags on the counter and practically tackled Felix in a hug. Felix hugged back, their combined dramatics making it look like they’d just been saved from execution.

“We’re free men, Lix!” Hyunjin cried.

Felix sniffled fake tears. “We were on the edge, Hyunjin. The edge.”

The ahjumma just shook her head, chuckling as they picked up the bags again. As they left, Hyunjin whispered, “We owe her our lives.”

Felix nodded seriously. “And dumplings. Lots of dumplings.”

They walked out into the night, two overly dramatic, sauce-loving idiots, convinced they’d just dodged the greatest scandal of their lives.

The night air was cool. Hyunjin walked with a bounce in his step, one hand gripping two steaming takeout bags, the other? It was sliding into Felix’s.

Felix blinked. “Uh—what are you—”

“Making sure my partner-in-crime doesn’t escape before we get home,” Hyunjin said smoothly, though the corners of his lips curled like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Felix’s fingers twitched but didn’t pull away. The warmth from Hyunjin’s palm seeped up his arm, making his ears heat up. He looked down at their joined hands. Hyunjin’s long, slender fingers fitting perfectly with his and tried not to smile like an idiot.

They walked like that for blocks, sneakers scuffing the pavement in rhythm. Every so often, Hyunjin would swing their hands, casual and teasing, and Felix’s heart skipped a beat every time.

“You’re unusually quiet,” Hyunjin teased. “Usually you’re telling me off by now.”

Felix’s gaze flicked to the glowing streetlamps. “Maybe I’m just… enjoying the walk.”

Hyunjin’s grin softened. “Me too.”

By the time they reached the dorm building, Felix had almost forgotten the whole sneaking-out-illegally part. But as soon as Hyunjin pushed the door open, reality hit hard.

Bang Chan was sitting on the couch. Arms crossed. Eyebrows raised. Looking every bit like the leader about to deliver a sermon.

“Well, well,” Chan started, voice calm in that dangerous way. “Look who decided to come back.”

Felix froze, heat rushing to his face, not from the handholding this time. Hyunjin, however, acted like he’d walked into a friend’s living room.

“Oh, hyung! You’re still up?” Hyunjin said brightly. “We were just—”

“Don’t,” Chan interrupted, holding up a hand. “I don’t want to hear the excuse. You broke curfew. The staff could’ve caught you. And for what?”

Hyunjin and Felix exchanged a glance. Slowly, like a magician revealing his final trick, Hyunjin lifted one of the takeout bags. “For this.”

Chan’s eyes flicked to the logo on the container. “…Is that tteokbokki?”

“The good kind,” Felix said quickly. “From the shop down the street.”

There was a long pause. Chan’s leader-mode expression faltered, just slightly before he sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Put it on the table.”

Hyunjin grinned like he’d just won a negotiation with a mob boss. “See, Felix? Totally worth it.”

Felix rolled his eyes but set the bag down next to Hyunjin’s. Chan was already moving to open the containers, the steam instantly filling the dorm with a spicy-sweet aroma.

“I’m still mad,” Chan said, grabbing chopsticks. “But I’ll be mad after I eat this.”

Hyunjin dropped onto the floor beside Felix, close enough that their knees bumped. “Peace treaty,” he murmured, watching Chan take his first bite.

Felix smiled faintly. “You’re lucky this works on him.”

Hyunjin leaned closer, voice low. “Works on you too.”

Felix’s cheeks warmed, but he didn’t respond, focusing instead on his food. Their knees stayed pressed together, and every so often, their hands brushed while reaching for the same fish cake. Each touch sent a quiet jolt through Felix, the kind that made his chest feel light and annoyingly happy.

Chan, meanwhile, was too busy enjoying the food to remember his lecture. “Alright,” he said finally, mouth full, “next time you break curfew… at least tell me beforehand.”

Hyunjin grinned, shooting Felix a triumphant look. “See? He’s on our side now.”

Felix shook his head but smiled back, feeling that same giddy warmth from the walk home—Hyunjin’s hand in his, the night air, and now, the ridiculous peace offering that had completely melted their leader’s resolve.

Chan had barely finished his fifth bite when the bedroom door creaked open again and in wandered Jeongin and Seungmin, looking suspiciously like they’d been listening in from the hallway.

Jeongin’s eyes immediately landed on the open tteokbokki containers. “Where’s our take out?”

Hyunjin froze mid-bite, then quickly held out a plate. “Peace offering number two.”

Seungmin accepted his share with zero hesitation. “Smart move. If you’d come back empty-handed, we would’ve told the staff.”

Jeongin plopped down cross-legged beside Chan, snatching a fish cake stick. “You know, we could’ve made it a group mission every time we crave something. Like… Operation Rice Cake.”

Felix laughed, sliding a banana milk toward him. “Next time.”

They all dug in, the five boys eating straight from the containers on the low table. The room filled with the sound of chopsticks clinking, slurps of sauce, and the occasional content sigh. Even Chan, who had been gearing up for a lecture just minutes earlier, was relaxed now, happily stealing bites from everyone’s portions.

By the time the last piece of tteokbokki was gone, Hyunjin was sprawled on the floor like he’d just run a marathon, Felix sitting neatly beside him, sipping the last of his milk.

“Alright,” Chan said, stretching, “everyone’s alive, full, and not arrested. I’m going to bed before I remember I’m mad.”

Jeongin and Seungmin mumbled goodnights and disappeared into their separate rooms, leaving Hyunjin and Felix alone in the now quiet living room.

Hyunjin yawned, pushing himself up. “Teeth. I’m too tired to wake up with tteokbokki breath.”

Felix stood too. “Me too. Let’s go.”

They padded into the small bathroom together, steam still lingering faintly from someone’s earlier shower. Hyunjin grabbed his toothbrush, smearing on toothpaste with lazy movements, while Felix leaned against the counter, waiting for his turn at the sink.

Hyunjin started brushing, cheeks puffing slightly as he worked the foam. Felix watched for a moment before muttering through a smile, “You look ridiculous.”

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes in the mirror, still brushing. “(Mph—yew—look—ridiculous),” he mumbled back around the toothbrush.

Felix laughed, finally stepping up to the sink beside him. Their shoulders bumped as he reached for his own toothbrush, the faint minty smell of Hyunjin’s toothpaste mixing with Felix’s vanilla-scented shampoo.

They brushed in tandem, making silly faces at each other in the mirror. Hyunjin crossing his eyes dramatically, Felix grinning so wide his toothpaste foam nearly spilled out.

When Hyunjin started humming a random tune through the brush, Felix choked on a laugh, accidentally spraying a tiny bit of foam onto the mirror. Hyunjin immediately pulled back, pointing at the spot with his toothbrush. “Evidence. You just committed mirror assault.”

Felix swiped at the mirror with a tissue, still laughing. “Shut up and rinse.”

They spit and rinsed almost at the same time, leaning over the sink shoulder to shoulder. When Felix straightened, Hyunjin was already watching him in the mirror, his expression softer now, the usual teasing edge melting into something warmer.

“What?” Felix asked, tilting his head, his hair falling slightly into his eyes.

Hyunjin shrugged lightly. “Your face is glowing.”

Felix’s lips curved into a small smile. “Maybe because I’m officially your partner in crime .”

They stood there a moment longer, the bathroom quiet except for the faint drip of the tap. Then Hyunjin bumped him lightly with his shoulder. “Next time, you’re holding my hand first.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but his smile didn’t fade. “We’ll see.”

They left the bathroom together, both still tasting mint, both still smiling like they’d just gotten away with the most harmless crime in the world.

The dorm was quiet now, lights dimmed, everyone tucked away in their own rooms. Hyunjin wandered into the living room instead, plopping down onto the couch with a soft sigh. He glanced over his shoulder, catching Felix just about to head toward the bedroom.

“Hey,” Hyunjin called, patting the cushion beside him. “Sit for a second.”

Felix hesitated. “It’s late. We should… y’know, go to our rooms.”

Hyunjin ignored that completely, reaching out to grab Felix’s wrist and tugging him down onto the couch. Felix stumbled slightly but ended up sitting, eyebrows furrowed. “Hyunjin—”

Before he could finish, Hyunjin leaned over and wrapped his arms around him.

Felix froze. His brain felt like slurpee, thoughts scattering like startled birds. Hyunjin’s hold was warm and firm, his chin resting lightly on Felix’s shoulder. Felix could feel every beat of his own heart thudding too fast, too loud, like it was trying to escape his chest.

“W-Why are you—” Felix’s voice cracked halfway through, the words stuttering out before he could steady them.

Hyunjin’s voice was quiet, sincere. “Thank you… for coming with me to eat tteokbokki.”

Felix blinked, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a little. “…That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Hyunjin confirmed, pulling back enough to look at him, but not letting go completely. “I just… had fun. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

Something in Felix’s chest warmed at that, pushing past the pounding of his heartbeat. Slowly, he smiled. Small at first, then wider, the kind that made his eyes curve into soft crescents.

He turned slightly so he was facing Hyunjin more fully, the couch cushion dipping under their weight. At the same time, Hyunjin shifted to look at him, and suddenly their faces were… close.

Too close.

Felix’s fingers twitch. Hyunjin didn’t move back. If anything, his gaze lingered, eyes flicking over Felix’s features like he was falling all over them.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. The hum of the fridge in the kitchen filled the silence, but Felix barely registered it. All he could hear was the steady rhythm of Hyunjin’s breathing, matching his own.

Felix’s smile softened, his voice almost a whisper. “You’re welcome.”

Hyunjin’s eyes held his, dark and steady, waiting for a clue or a permission and one small tilt forward would close the distance completely. Their gazes didn’t waver, locked in quiet tension, the world outside the couch fading until it was just them. Breath to breath, heartbeat to heartbeat.

“Felix—”

And the younger did not wait for Hyunjin’s next words.

>>>>>

Chapter Text

They were careful. One wrong move and the moment would shatter.

Felix could feel the warmth of Hyunjin’s breath on his skin, a delicate rhythm of inhales and exhales brushing against his lips, making his chest tighten. Each soft puff of air sent a shiver crawling down his spine, a reminder of how close they were.

Their eyes locked, and neither blinked. It was like staring into a mirror that revealed not his face, but his thoughts. Every flicker of doubt, every sliver of longing, reflected back at him through Hyunjin’s gaze. Felix felt suspended in time, as if the world outside the couch, the dorm, the city itself, had simply dissolved.

His chest grew tight with that giddy, weightless dizziness that comes when you realize you’re about to step off the edge into something you’ve only dreamed of. His heartbeat hammered against his ribs, faster, louder, until it seemed impossible Hyunjin couldn’t hear it.

Before reason could pull him back, Felix leaned forward. Just slightly. Just enough to close the impossible distance.

Their lips touched in the softest brush. So light it might have been mistaken for an accident, like the whisper of petals falling on water. But it wasn’t an accident. It was there, trembling, full of meaning.

Hyunjin’s breath seemed to stop, surprise flaring in his chest. He could have pulled away. He could have laughed. But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned into it, his lips pressing back with hesitant warmth.

It wasn’t perfect. Their angles were a little awkward, their noses almost bumping. But it didn’t matter. In that tiny, fragile kiss, Felix felt something unfurl in him, like the quiet bloom of a flower finally touched by sunlight.

The taste of mint lingered faintly between them, clean and sharp from brushing their teeth earlier. He noticed everything at once: the slight tremor in Hyunjin’s hand resting on the couch cushion, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his hair tickled Felix’s cheek as they tilted closer.

Felix’s own fingers shook, unsure whether to grab hold of something or simply let himself float. His pulse thundered in his ears, and it wasn’t just nerves, it was the sheer, electric wonder of realizing that this was real.

Hyunjin’s heart raced too. Felix could almost feel it in the closeness, the way their chests brushed when they leaned in, the way Hyunjin’s breath stuttered when he tried to exhale through his nose. The kiss deepened not in force, but in emotion. They weren’t pressing harder… they were simply existing together, learning the delicate shape of something new, something unspoken and tender.

It lasted seconds. Ten, maybe less. But time stretched long enough to brand itself into memory.

When they finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. Their foreheads lingered close enough to touch, their lips parted by the smallest space. Felix’s breaths came uneven, shaky in the quiet, while Hyunjin’s eyes softened , crinkling faintly with the beginnings of a smile.

“That was…” Hyunjin’s voice broke the silence, low and careful, almost shy in a way Felix had never heard from him before. “…unexpected.”

Felix let out a small laugh, almost more a breath than sound, his cheeks burning hot. “You’re welcome.”

Hyunjin tilted his head, studying him with an intensity that made Felix’s skin prickle. He looked at him like he was the rarest treasure, something fragile and irreplaceable. “Was that… your way of saying thank you back?”

Felix’s lips curved, his grin widening despite himself. “Maybe.”

The room felt transformed. The world had shrunk, the focus narrowed, until there was only them. Two boys on a couch, their knees brushing, their hands ghosting against each other in the small space between.

Hyunjin’s hand lifted, hesitant but sure enough, and he tucked a strand of hair behind Felix’s ear. His touch lingered just a beat longer than necessary, fingers brushing the curve of Felix’s cheek. “For the record…” he murmured, a softness in his tone that melted into the moment, “you’re a great partner-in-crime.”

Felix’s heartbeat stumbled, tripping over itself. His grin softened into something smaller, shyer. “So are you.”

Silence stretched again. It was warm, like a blanket wrapped around them. Neither moved, because neither needed to.

In that quiet corner of the dorm, under the glow of dim lights and the echo of a kiss still buzzing on their lips, the world felt smaller. Safer. Sweeter.

Maybe it wasn’t perfect. Maybe their teeth had almost clashed, maybe their hands were trembling too much. But it didn’t matter. It was theirs. And in that moment, it was perfect enough.

Stray Kids had been herded into the JYP building earlier than usual, dressed in their best practice clothes but buzzing with an unusual energy. YG trainees will be visiting. JYP and YG had been doing this tradition of trainees performing for a friendly battle. 

Now, the two groups stood across from each other, exchanging shy smiles at first before conversations started breaking out like popcorn. Hyunjin found himself chatting with a tall boy who had a bright grin and joked about how early they all had to wake up. Felix, meanwhile, had made fast friends with a bubbly trainee from YG who spoke just enough English to laugh at his awkward Korean.

Seungmin was in the corner with Jeongin, talking to another pair about video games, while Changbin and Jisung were already doing some kind of impromptu rap battle in the middle of the room. The atmosphere felt light, full of curiosity and mutual teasing.

The chatter quieted when the door opened and JYP himself walked in, dressed in his signature outfit and smile. “Alright, everyone,” he said warmly, “I’m glad to see you getting along. That’s good. We’re here for friendly competition, but first…”

He turned to the YG trainees. “Who’s the youngest among you?”

The YG group shuffled a little before one boy stepped forward shyly. “It’s me,” he said in a small voice. “Do Young. I’m… thirteen.”

There was a pause.

The entire Stray Kids lineup stared at him like he’d just announced he was still in elementary school. “Thirteen?!” Jeongin blurted out, looking personally attacked despite only being a couple years younger than himself. Hyunjin’s jaw dropped. “When I was thirteen, I was still scared of my middle school gym teacher!” Changbin whispered to Jisung, “I think I was shorter than my backpack at thirteen.”

Do Young blinked at all the reactions, then gave a polite little bow. Felix grinned at him. “You’re amazing. At thirteen, I couldn’t even wake up without my mum yelling at me.”

JYP chuckled, clearly enjoying the chaos. “I'm shocked. You're really young. But age doesn’t matter as much as skill. Remember that.”

Before Stray Kids could recover from their collective shock, the door opened again—this time, YG himself stepped in, flanked by a few staff. He gave a friendly wave. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

The room’s mood shifted instantly into focus mode. Chan clapped his hands, gathering his team. “Okay, let’s go. Our turn first.”

The music kicked in. Hard-hitting beats that rattled the floor. Changbin and Jisung opened with a fiery rap exchange, voices sharp and perfectly in sync, feeding off each other’s energy. Chan slipped into the center, his movements crisp and fluid, drawing cheers from the YG trainees. 3Racha's performance flowed like water. Rap into vocals.

Then the whole group. Rap and vocals into dance breaks, everyone shining in their moments. When the final beat hit, Stray Kids froze in their ending pose, breaths heavy but grins wide. The room erupted into applause both JYP and YG grinning and clapping.

“That,” YG said with a small nod, “was impressive.”

JYP turned to his trainees with obvious pride. “That’s what I like to see.”

Then it was YG’s team’s turn. They launched into their own set. Smooth choreography, sharp lines, and voices that carried a different but equally strong energy. This time, Stray Kids were the ones cheering loudly, hyping them up.

When it ended, JYP clapped. “Excellent. Both teams did well. This is the kind of healthy competition that makes you all better.”

The trainees from both companies grinned at each other, the earlier shyness gone completely. It didn’t feel like rivals—it felt like a room full of people chasing the same dream, cheering each other on.

In the corner, Hyunjin caught Felix’s eye. Felix was already smiling, the kind that made Hyunjin feel like the whole morning, awkward introductions, surprise thirteen-year-olds, and all, had been worth it.

The next day was calm compared to the energy of the competition. Morning practice was short, and by the time noon rolled around, the boys were buzzing with excitement over their plan. 22 “Let’s go out for lunch,” Chan suggested, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Somewhere nice. We’ll invite JYP-nim too.”

The idea was met with a chorus of agreement. Even the usually reserved Seungmin cracked a small smile. Felix hesitated at first. Eating with the boss wasn’t exactly something you did every day but eventually joined the group as they headed to a small Korean restaurant not far from the building.

The place was warm and inviting, filled with the smell of sizzling meat and bubbling stews. The staff recognized JYP instantly, greeting him with wide smiles and ushering the group to a long table.

Felix trailed toward the end, scanning for an empty seat. Hyunjin was already seated halfway down, chatting easily with Jeongin and Jisung. Felix’s eyes flicked between an empty chair across from Hyunjin and one right beside him. The thought of sitting next to him made his chest tighten in a way that felt ridiculous for a simple lunch.

He was about to take the safer option, across the table, when Hyunjin’s gaze caught his. Hyunjin’s brow furrowed. “Yah,” he called over the chatter, his voice cutting through just enough to make a few heads turn. “Sit here. Why are you over there?”

Felix froze for a beat, then blinked. “I was just—”

“Don’t ‘just’ me,” Hyunjin interrupted, patting the chair beside him with an exaggerated motion. “Come on.”

Heat crept up Felix’s neck as he crossed the space and slid into the seat. Hyunjin gave him a small, satisfied smile, one that softened into something quieter when their eyes met for just a moment too long.

The others were too busy scanning the menu to notice the little exchange, but Felix could feel the edge of Hyunjin’s knee brushing against his under the table. He shifted slightly, trying to focus on the words in front of him, but his mind kept drifting back to the closeness.

“You’re not going to get anything too spicy, right?” Hyunjin murmured, leaning just close enough that his voice didn’t carry to the rest. “I don’t want you suffering halfway through.”

Felix huffed a quiet laugh. “I’ll be fine. I can handle spice.”

“We’ll see,” Hyunjin said with a teasing smile, flipping his menu closed.

JYP ordered for the table, and soon steaming platters arrived. Bulgogi, kimchi jjigae, japchae, and an array of banchan. The group dove in with enthusiasm, conversation flowing easily. JYP asked about practice schedules, teased Jeongin for eating too fast, and complimented Changbin’s rap during yesterday’s performance.

Felix found himself relaxing more as the meal went on, laughing at Jisung’s jokes and even jumping in to tell a funny story from their dorm. Every so often, Hyunjin would pass him something from his own plate without saying a word. Sliding over a perfect piece of meat, or handing him the last bite of japchae.

At one point, Hyunjin leaned back in his chair, glancing at Felix with a small grin. “See? Sitting here was the right choice.” Felix tried to play it off, but his lips betrayed him, curling into a shy smile. “Maybe.”

Hyunjin’s gaze lingered, the corner of his mouth lifting like he was holding back something he wanted to say. Felix ducked his head and reached for his water, hoping it would cool the warmth in his cheeks.

The lunch stretched on, filled with laughter and easy conversation. By the time they were all leaning back in their chairs, too full to move, Felix realized the earlier awkwardness had been worth it. Sitting beside Hyunjin hadn’t just made him feel closer physically. It had felt like their own small, unspoken connection in the middle of a crowded table.

“Next time,” Hyunjin said casually, “don’t even think about sitting somewhere else.”

Felix glanced at him, that same shy smile tugging at his lips. “Alright.”

Lunch ended with everyone stuffed, shuffling out of the restaurant like sleepy penguins. The sun was warm, the street buzzing with weekend energy. Most of the group started heading back toward the dorm, chatting about practice schedules and the upcoming evaluation.

Felix, walking beside Hyunjin, caught Jisung’s glance from a few steps ahead. Jisung tilted his head toward the side street and mouthed, Ice cream?

Hyunjin’s eyes lit up instantly. Felix grinned.

Within seconds, the two of them had drifted toward the back of the group, where Changbin was walking with his hands in his pockets. Jisung slowed down to join them, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. “Let’s not go back yet. There’s that ice cream shop two blocks over.”

Changbin stopped in his tracks. “Yah, aren’t we supposed to be on a diet? Ice cream has, like, a million calories.”

“Shhh.” Jisung waved him off with a dramatic finger to his lips. “We won’t tell them.”

Felix tried to hold in a laugh, while Hyunjin slung an arm over Changbin’s shoulder. “Come on, Binnie. We’ll walk it off. And think of it as… a morale boost.”

Changbin groaned but followed anyway, muttering about how this was sabotage.

The little ice cream shop was bright and cheerful, with pastel walls and a counter lined with tubs of every flavor imaginable. The air smelled of sugar and vanilla, and the cold air from the freezers was a welcome break from the sun outside.

Hyunjin pressed his face close to the glass, pointing at flavors like a kid in a candy store. “Look! Mint chocolate chip, double fudge brownie, strawberry cheesecake—”

“Bubblegum flavor,” Felix cut in with a grin. “That’s me.”

“Boring,” Jisung teased, leaning over the counter. “Give me the rainbow sherbet. I want it to look like a unicorn exploded.”

Changbin sighed, then pointed reluctantly. “Fine. One scoop of chocolate. Just one.”

Five minutes later, they were all sitting at a tiny round table outside, cones in hand. Jisung’s rainbow sherbet was already dripping down his fingers, Hyunjin had a smear of mint chip on the corner of his mouth, Felix was carefully demolishing his bubblegum blue ice cream, and Changbin was staring at his chocolate scoop like it was a guilty pleasure he didn’t want to admit.

“This is so good,” Hyunjin said between licks, looking way too happy for someone who had just eaten a huge lunch. “Exactly,” Jisung agreed, already halfway through his scoop. “Who cares about calories? Life’s short. Eat the ice cream.”

Felix chuckled, glancing at Changbin. “See? Aren’t you glad you came?” Changbin grumbled but kept eating. “If anyone asks, I was kidnapped.”

Hyunjin snorted. “By ice cream. The most dangerous kind of crime.”

At one point, Jisung tried to take a bite of Felix’s cone, only for Hyunjin to block him with his own. “Hey, no stealing from him. Get your own.”

Felix’s ears turned pink, but he was smiling too much to hide it. “You’re ridiculous,” he said softly.

“You like it,” Hyunjin shot back, grinning.

They lingered long after their cones were finished, just talking and laughing, enjoying the rare bit of freedom. Jisung swore they should make it a weekly ritual, Changbin threatened to start charging them for “breaking his diet,” and Hyunjin kept nudging Felix’s knee under the table.

Eventually, they stood to head back, wiping sticky fingers on napkins and trying to look innocent like they hadn’t just committed the ultimate diet betrayal.

“Remember,” Jisung said as they turned the corner toward the dorm, “if anyone asks, we were just taking a walk. A very scenic, definitely not ice cream-related walk.”

“Right,” Changbin muttered, licking the last bit of chocolate from his spoon.

Felix laughed, glancing at Hyunjin, who was already smirking like he was ready to break another rule.

The four of them ambled down the sidewalk, the late afternoon sun dipping low enough to paint the buildings gold. Jisung and Changbin were up front, already in the middle of a heated debate about whether mint chocolate chip was “real ice cream flavor” or “toothpaste in disguise.”

“It’s literally frozen toothpaste,” Changbin insisted, waving his empty spoon for emphasis. Jisung gasped. “That’s slander! Mint chip is a refreshing culinary experience!”

Their voices bounced off the walls, echoing through the street. Hyunjin and Felix followed a few steps behind, just far enough to be in their own little bubble.

Felix’s arm brushed against Hyunjin’s once. Then again. And again. Each time, Felix’s heart thudded harder, and he could feel the heat creeping up his neck. Hyunjin didn’t move away. If anything, his pace matched Felix’s perfectly, their steps falling into sync.

They kept walking, letting their hands swing naturally at their sides. Every so often, their knuckles bumped. Soft, accidental touches that sent sparks through Felix’s chest. Hyunjin’s pinky grazed his once, then twice. On the third pass, Felix’s pinky curled instinctively, and this time, the taller hooked his own around it.

The world didn’t slow down exactly, but the moment sprawled just enough for Felix to notice everything. The faint smell of soap from Hyunjin’s sleeve, the warmth radiating from his hand, the quiet little hum Hyunjin sometimes made without realizing it.

Neither of them looked down. They didn’t have to. The tiny link between their fingers felt like a secret handshake only they knew.

Felix’s lips tugged upward despite himself. He could sense Hyunjin’s grin too, even without turning his head. Their steps stayed in perfect rhythm, pinkies still intertwined, like they were both holding onto a secret they didn’t want to let go of.

It would’ve been perfect.

But just as Felix finally worked up the nerve to slip his hand fully into Hyunjin’s, Jisung turned his head mid-argument with Changbin.

“Hyunjin! Back me up on this—”

Felix’s instincts kicked in before his brain could. He gave Hyunjin a shove toward the curb.

Hyunjin stumbled in exaggerated slow motion, arms flailing like a cartoon character losing his balance. “Wha—woAH—” He hopped once to catch himself, but overdid it and spun halfway around before landing in a dramatic crouch on the edge of the pavement.

Changbin turned at the noise, blinking. “What the heck are you doing?”

Hyunjin, without missing a beat, held up his hands as if the whole thing had been planned. “I… was testing my reflexes.”

Felix bit his lip so hard to keep from laughing that it almost hurt. Jisung squinted. “On the sidewalk?”

“Sidewalk reflexes are important,” Hyunjin said solemnly, dusting off his knees and slipping back into step like nothing happened.

Changbin just shook his head and turned back to Jisung, picking up their debate where they’d left off. “Anyway, vanilla is superior to mint chip…”

The second they were facing forward again, Hyunjin leaned slightly toward Felix, lowering his voice so only he could hear. “You pushed me.”

Felix’s eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter. “I saved us.”

Hyunjin tilted his head, feigning deep consideration. “Hmm. I’ll allow it. This time.”

Their shoulders bumped again as they walked, and though their hands didn’t find each other this time, the giddy warmth lingered between them all the way back to the dorm.

Felix had no idea if anyone would ever find out about the pinky-link moment. But the way Hyunjin kept glancing at him with that half smile… it didn’t matter.

They both knew.

The dorm was still buzzing faintly from the walk back when Chan stepped into the living room, his voice steady but serious.

“Everyone, listen up,” he said, glancing around to make sure all the trainees were present. “The elimination is in three days.”

The words landed heavy in the air. Conversations cut short. Chopsticks set down. Even Jisung and Changbin stopped their bickering.

For a long moment, no one spoke. The weight of the countdown pressed into every corner of the room.

Felix and Hyunjin, who’d been lingering near the couch, sank down together. The rest of the members slowly drifted off, some to their rooms, others to the kitchen. Anything to escape the suffocating quiet. Soon, the two of them were alone.

“I’m afraid,” Hyunjin murmured, his voice low, almost guilty for admitting it. “What if I’m eliminated?”

Felix turned toward him, brows furrowing. “Eh, don’t think too much about it. I’m pretty sure we’ll all make it.”

Hyunjin didn’t reply right away, his gaze fixed on some invisible spot on the floor. Then, warm fingers slid over his hand, threading through them gently. Hyunjin looked down to see Felix holding his hand firmly.

And Felix… was glowing. Not literally, but in the way his presence seemed to push back the gloom pressing into the room. “Aren’t you afraid?” Hyunjin asked quietly.

The smaller shrugged. “No. I mean… yeah. But I don’t want to dwell on it much. We do our best. I know we are destined to debut.” His eyes softened, holding Hyunjin’s gaze. “Together.”

Hyunjin blinked quickly, but his vision blurred anyway. Tears brimmed before he could stop them.

“Hyunjin, don’t be a crybaby,” Felix said, his tone teasing but gentle. “I’m sure you won’t be eliminated. But if I’m the one—”

“Don’t say that.” Hyunjin’s frown was sharp, almost pained.

“What? We don’t know what will happen.” Felix’s voice was light, but his words carried a quiet truth. “Hyunjin, listen to me. Worst case scenario, if either of us gets eliminated… we should still keep in touch, alright?”

“What if...” Hyunjin asked, brow furrowing. “You might forget about me.”

Felix chuckled. “I won't. Lets do letters. Snail mail.” He let out a playful laugh. “Imagine me writing ‘Dear Hyunjin’ with a fountain pen.”

Hyunjin sniffled quietly, the tears sliding down now despite himself. Pouting like a kid who wasn't allowed to play anymore.

“Hey!” Felix said with a grin, “We’re not getting divorced or anything.”

That earned a watery laugh from Hyunjin. Felix smiled and, without much thought, let his head rest on Hyunjin’s lap.

Hyunjin’s hand immediately moved to his hair, fingers combing through the soft strands in slow, absent strokes. It was grounding, comforting. He looked down at Felix’s face, the angle catching the curve of his cheek, the way his lashes fanned across his skin.

And then, without planning it, Hyunjin leaned down. Their lips met in a soft, brief kiss. Five seconds, no more. Gentle. Testing. Felix’s eyes widened just slightly before closing. When they parted, he let out a sudden laugh.

“Yah, why are you laughing?” Hyunjin asked, trying to mask the fluster in his voice.

Felix sat up, still grinning. “Our teeth clashed,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Hyunjin stared for a moment, then broke into a laugh too. “Can we… kiss again?”

The freckled shoved a pillow into his chest. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!” Hyunjin echoed, but Felix was already getting up. “Tomorrow,” Felix repeated over his shoulder, walking toward the hallway.

Hyunjin shot up, tossing the pillow aside, and chased after him with a grin. “Yah, come back here!”

Felix squealed. Half laughing, half dodging, until Hyunjin caught him from behind, arms wrapping snugly around his waist. They lingered there, breathing hard from the little chase.

Slowly, Felix turned in his hold to face him. The teasing in his eyes softened into something warmer.

He reached up, cupping Hyunjin’s face with both hands, his thumbs brushing lightly over his reddish cheeks. “Everything will be alright, Hyunjinnie. Okay? We're gonna make it. I can imagine us appearing on music shows to perform and doing small concerts together."

Hyunjin’s hands found Felix’s waist, fingers curling gently as if he was afraid to let go. Felix’s arms slid naturally up to rest on Hyunjin’s shoulders, steadying them both. For a moment they just stood there, close enough to feel the warmth radiating between them, breaths mingling in the small space left.

Then Hyunjin leaned in, lips brushing Felix’s in a soft, unhurried kiss—sweet, innocent, and impossibly tender. Felix’s heart fluttered at the contact, his smile curving against Hyunjin’s mouth. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic. It was simple, fluffy, and full of the kind of happiness that made the world fade away.

Hyunjin mumbled in between, lips curving, "...and maybe, we can kiss like this after every concert.”

>>>>>>

Chapter Text

Hyunjin and Felix were tangled together on the bottom bunk with morning light reaching their toes. Felix was curled against Hyunjin’s chest, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist. They hadn’t planned on falling asleep like that, but neither had let go through the night.

The sound of a camera shutter broke the quiet.

Felix’s eyes blinked open groggily, only to see Changbin crouched near the bed, phone raised, and Jeongin leaning over him, grinning like a fox.

“Wow,” Jeongin whispered dramatically. “Felix hyung is so clingy. Look at him, hugging Hyunjin hyung like a koala.”

Felix’s whole face went red. “Y-Yah!” he whined, immediately burying his burning cheeks into the blanket. His arms instinctively tightened around Hyunjin, making it worse.

Changbin snickered. “Oh, this is going in the group chat.”

From beside Felix, Hyunjin let out a sleepy chuckle, voice raspy. Still half-asleep, he tugged the blanket higher until it covered both their heads. “Don’t tease him,” he mumbled, eyes barely open. “He’s cute when he’s shy.”

Felix’s whine turned into a muffled groan under the blanket. Jeongin snorted, clearly enjoying himself, but finally tugged at Changbin’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s leave the lovebirds alone.”

The door clicked shut, leaving the room quiet again. Under the blanket, Felix peeked up at Hyunjin, his cheeks still pink. Hyunjin was watching him now, awake enough to grin lazily.

“They’re never going to let me live this down,” Felix muttered.

Hyunjin’s hand slid into his hair, smoothing it down gently. “So what? You were comfy.”

Felix huffed but didn’t move away. “Still embarrassing.”

Hyunjin tilted his head, eyes warm. “Embarrassing for you maybe. For me, it was nice.”

They didn’t talk about the kiss. Well, not yet. Instead, they let the conversation drift into safer waters.

“You hog blankets,” Hyunjin teased.

“You drool,” Felix shot back, but he was smiling now.

“You kick in your sleep,” Hyunjin added.

“You snore like a tractor,” Felix countered.

Both of them laughed quietly, shoulders shaking under the covers. The teasing didn’t erase the memory of last night, but it made the weight of it easier to carry.

Finally, Felix exhaled, his voice quieter. “Everything feels lighter when it’s like this.”

Hyunjin’s chest tightened at that, but he only pulled Felix closer, resting his chin on top of his head. “Then let’s stay like this a little longer.”

And they did. Just two teenage boys tucked away in the bottom bunk, wrapped in a blanket, holding onto the quiet sweetness of a morning that belonged just to them.

Felix shifted under the blanket, still nestled against Hyunjin, when the words slipped out before he could stop them. “Can we… kiss again?”

The silence that followed was louder than a shout. Both of them turned red instantly, their faces practically glowing under the covers. Felix’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d said. “I-I mean—no! Forget that. Stupid. That was stupid.” He scrambled like he was about to get off the bed, face burning.

But Hyunjin’s hand shot out, tugging him back down by the wrist. “Yah,” Hyunjin said softly, still flushed but smiling, “don’t run away.”

Felix froze, caught between embarrassment and the warmth of Hyunjin’s hold. Hyunjin laughed under his breath, pulling the blanket back over them. The tension eased, dissolving into shy smiles and quiet giggles that neither of them could quite hide.

By the time they shuffled into the dining area, the rest of the boys were already seated, plates filled. Hyunjin slid onto the bench, Felix taking the spot right beside him.

They tried to act normal, but under the table, their feet brushed. They lingered, toes nudging playfully like they were sharing a secret language. Felix ducked his head to hide his grin. Hyunjin didn’t bother. He just looked at Felix openly, smile soft and a little too obvious.

That was when a leaf of lettuce smacked Hyunjin square in the face.

“Stop staring at Lix like that,” Seungmin deadpanned, already reaching for another leaf. “You look ridiculous.”

The table erupted in laughter. Hyunjin peeled the lettuce off his cheek with a dramatic sigh. “Yah, you’re just jealous.”

Felix nearly choked on his rice, his ears red again.

Jisung threw down his chopsticks with a groan. “I can’t do this. I miss Minho-hyung.” He stood dramatically and marched out of the kitchen.

Chan then barked out a laugh. “Good riddance. More food for me.”

Felix tried to hide behind his bowl, but Hyunjin just nudged his foot against Felix’s again, grin unbothered.

The laughter faded when Chan cleared his throat, his leader tone kicking in. “Alright, fun’s over. Listen up guys.” He waited until everyone was paying attention with Jisung coming back to the table. “Today we practice until midnight. No excuses. Tomorrow is the busking event.”

A ripple of nervous excitement went around the table. Changbin and Seungmin set down their spoons carefully. Jeongin leaned back with a deep breath.

Felix felt Hyunjin’s foot press against his under the table, just briefly, like reassurance. Felix glanced sideways and despite everything, despite the nerves clawing at his chest, he smiled back.

Together. They’d face whatever tomorrow brought, side by side.

The night was cold on their skin, but it wasn’t enough to calm the nerves running through every member of Stray Kids. The outdoor stage loomed ahead, the growing crowd buzzing with anticipation. Today wasn’t just practice in a JYP room with mirrors. Tonight? It was real, messy, public. It was busking.

Hyunjin stretched his arms out, rolling his shoulders. He tried to hide his nerves behind a grin, bouncing on his heels like excitement was all he felt. Deep inside, though, his stomach churned. He glanced at Felix, who stood beside him in his performance outfit, hands trembling slightly as he adjusted his lapel.

What if I mess up? What if my voice cracks? What if my footwork slips? Felix thought.

He shook his hands out, but it didn’t stop the tightness in his chest. He could hear the crowd murmuring, feel their eyes even before the music started. Please, don’t let me ruin this for everyone.

Chan clapped his hands together. “Alright, kids. Remember—it’s just us and the music. Have fun. Don’t overthink.”

Their setlist echoed in Felix’s head. The new song Ya Ya Ya, then School Life, then Hellevator. And of course, a 3RACHA special with Runner’s High.

When they stepped out, the cheers hit like a wave. Rows of people packed tight, holding up phones, voices rising in excitement. Among them, Felix caught sight of familiar faces—Day6’s Sungjin and Young K, GOT7’s Yugyeom and BamBam, 2PM’s Jun.K, and even Black Eyed Pilseung producers. The weight of their presence almost buckled his knees.

But then the beat dropped.

Hyunjin snapped into motion, body flowing with the choreography. His nerves melted under the rhythm, replaced by that electric rush he only felt when dancing. The air was thick with energy, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. This was why he wanted to debut. To feel alive like this.

Felix’s turn came. He forced himself forward, voice steady in his rap, but his legs trembled. And then, during a transition, standing in between two members, his foot slipped. His balance wavered. For one terrifying heartbeat, he almost fell.

Gasps rippled from the front row. Felix’s face burned. He caught himself just in time, forcing his body back into the formation. His heart hammered, shame surging hot in his chest. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

But when his part ended, the crowd still screamed. Not boos. There were only cheers. And when Jeongin’s verse came, the screams grew even louder.

Every time the youngest opened his mouth, the audience melted. A chorus of “awws” and squeals followed his every note. Felix couldn’t help but smile at that. Even in his panic, it warmed him. Jeongin was shining, and the crowd loved him.

Song by song, their confidence grew. School Life had people bouncing. Hellevator made the air thrum with raw emotion. And when 3RACHA stepped up for Runner’s High, Changbin’s strong growl and Jisung’s flow lit up the stage, with Chan grounding it all in effortless charisma.

By the time they hit their final pose, sweat dripping down their temples, the crowd roared. Hyunjin’s chest heaved, lungs burning, but he laughed breathlessly, exhilarated. Felix bowed low, face flushed. Not just from effort, but from the memory of his near-fall.

Still, the applause was real. The smiles in the crowd were real. Maybe his mistake wasn’t the end of the world.

After the performance, they filed behind the white staff tent, hearts still pounding. The air was warmer there, the noise of the crowd muffled, but the adrenaline still raced through their veins.

Waiting for them were their sunbaes.

Sungjin from Day6 gave a small nod, arms crossed. “Not bad at all. You’ve got energy. Keep that hunger.”

Young K grinned. “Stage presence—that’s what’ll carry you. Remember, a mistake isn’t the end. If you keep going, the crowd forgets.” His gaze flicked to Felix knowingly, and Felix’s ears burned.

BamBam clapped Chan on the shoulder. “Good teamwork. You guys feel like a group already. That’s rare.”

Yugyeom smiled at Jeongin. “And you… you’ve got something special. Keep it up.” Jeongin flushed bright red, bowing frantically while the others cheered and teased him.

Jun.K from 2PM added, “It’s about connection. You connected with the crowd. That’s all that matters.”

Even the producers from Black Eyed Pilseung nodded thoughtfully. “Your sound has color. With polish, it’ll stand out.”

The compliments didn’t erase the nerves, but they softened them, stitched over the raw edges with hope.

Hyunjin, still glowing from the performance, shot a sideways glance at Felix. Felix caught it, his lips tugging into the faintest smile. He still felt shaky inside, but Hyunjin’s grin was like an anchor.

They had done it. Together.

Tomorrow would bring more challenges, more mistakes, more pressure. But in that moment, standing behind the white tent, sweat drying on their skin and sunbae voices echoing in their ears, Stray Kids felt closer to debut than ever.

The next day, Felix’s chest constrict further. Sweat clung to the back of his neck despite the air conditioner humming overhead, each droplet sliding slowly, tickling, reminding him how nervous he was.

He stood in line with the others, the floor beneath him too solid, too sharp against the soles of his shoes. Every breath felt like it might echo in the silence, and his throat bobbed again and again, dry and aching.

When JYP began speaking, Felix tried to focus, but the words blurred, like they were underwater. Amazed with the performances. Hard work. Mistakes. The moment the word “mistakes” left JYP’s lips, Felix’s stomach dropped. His vision tunneled, and the pulse in his ears roared.

“The mistake that stood out most was Felix. When you lost balance.”

Heat seared his cheeks, not from shame alone but from the memory of it. The stumble, the panic, the flash of fear in the crowd’s eyes. He wanted to rewind time, to grip harder, to stand stronger. But the stage had already passed, and the judgment was final.

“Felix… is eliminated.”

The word eliminated hit like a physical blow. His knees buckled slightly, and he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, the metallic tang of blood grounding him as tears spilled anyway. The sound of crying around him made it worse, made it real.

When Chan pulled him into a hug, Felix clutched the leader’s shirt like a lifeline, his tears soaking the fabric. “Always find me, yeah? I’m not gonna leave you behind,” Chan whispered.

The words broke him further.

One by one, each member came. Seungmin’s hand steady on his back, Jeongin clinging to him like a little brother, sobbing so hard Felix had to hold him upright. Every embrace was both comfort and a knife to the chest. Changbin and Jisung cried hard as well, pulling Felix in tight embrace. 

Then Hyunjin.

Felix collapsed into him, arms around his waist, face buried in his chest. Hyunjin’s grip was fierce, trembling. His tears soaked Felix’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” Felix choked, words torn raw from his throat.

Hyunjin pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes swollen and red, voice shaking with fury. “Why are you saying sorry? Don’t. Don’t ever say sorry. You did nothing wrong.” He hugged him again, tighter, almost crushing, as if sheer force could anchor him here.

The staff camera lens glinted nearby, recording everything. The collapse of a dream, the unraveling of eight boys into tears.

When the staff finally said, “Felix, you need to leave the dorm,” the final crack echoed inside his chest.

The dorm was unbearably quiet. No laughter, no bickering, just the occasional muffled sob from a closed room. Hyunjin sat on the bottom bunk, Felix across from him, the space between them filled with grief too heavy to speak through.

The others had given them privacy, slipping away one by one. The silence they left behind only deepened the ache.

Hyunjin reached forward, brushing trembling fingers across Felix’s damp cheeks. His skin was warm, sticky from dried tears. “I can’t… I can’t let you go.” His voice cracked, breaking into something hoarse, almost unrecognizable.

Felix’s hands came up, pressing Hyunjin’s palms flat against his face, grounding himself in the touch. His lips quivered as he tried to smile, but the corners shook. “It’s not goodbye. Just… a pause.”

The word pause sliced him open. Hyunjin shook his head violently, forehead pressing against Felix’s until their tears mixed. His breath came in ragged bursts. “It feels like I’m gonna die without you here. What am I supposed to do when you leave?”

Felix’s shoulders shook, his sobs muffled against Hyunjin’s chest. The sound gutted him. Like listening to something fragile breaking. Hyunjin’s arms wrapped around him, desperate, crushing. He wanted to memorize the weight, the shape, the warmth, to carve it into his bones so it would never leave.

They clung to each other in silence, interrupted only by gasps for breath and the wet drag of tears. Fingers tangled in fabric, in hair, in anything that would keep the other close. Hyunjin whispered between sobs, words tumbling out uncontrollably: “Don’t forget me. Don’t let go of me. Please.”

Felix’s answer came broken, muffled into his shirt. “Never. I could never.”

Hyunjin tilted Felix’s face up with shaking hands, studying every detail. Felix's curved lips, the redness in his eyes, the freckles he adored. He kissed his forehead once, trembling, before collapsing back into his shoulder with another sob.

In that dim-lit dorm, with everyone else shut away and time slipping through their fingers, it felt like the world had ended.

Hyunjin didn’t know how to live in a world without Felix. And yet, the world was about to make him try.

But the harsh world was waiting outside Felix. His hands moved automatically, fold, press, stack. But his chest felt hollow. Every item he packed felt like a piece of himself being erased from the room.

Hyunjin sat on the floor beside him, knees drawn to his chest, his back pressed against the wall. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just watched. Each time Felix lifted a shirt, each time he tucked something away, it was like Hyunjin’s heart cracked a little more.

His palms were numb, tingling as though he’d been holding ice for too long. His head throbbed, dull and relentless, a punishment from crying too much. But still, his eyes followed Felix’s every movement, unwilling to blink, as though if he stopped watching, Felix might disappear this instant.

Felix zipped the suitcase shut. The sound echoed sharp in the room, final, like the slamming of a door. He looked up, his eyes red-rimmed. He was exhausted.

“I think… I’m ready,” Felix whispered.

Hyunjin’s throat closed. Ready. The word didn’t belong here.

And the farewell came. The members lined up in the narrow hallway, shoulders hunched, eyes glassy. It looked less like a goodbye and more like a funeral procession. One by one, Felix hugged them, clinging as tightly as they clung to him.

Chan held him the longest. “I'll try to talk to JYP-nim. Keep your lines open. I will make sure you'll debut.” His voice broke on the last word, but he held Felix steady anyway.

Seungmin wrapped his arms around Felix’s back, whispering words too soft to hear but firm enough to anchor. Jeongin sobbed loudly against his chest, shaking so hard Felix had to pat his back and soothe him. Jisung pressed his forehead to Felix’s shoulder, muttering, “I hate this, I hate this, I hate this,” until his voice cracked. Changbin squeezed Felix until he couldn't breathe. 

And then Hyunjin.

He couldn’t believe it was real. Couldn’t believe the suitcase was zipped. Couldn’t believe the hallway felt like the end of the world. He stepped forward, chest aching, arms wrapping around Felix so tightly his knuckles went white.

“This is a dream,” Hyunjin told himself, again and again, as he buried his face into Felix’s shoulder. A nightmare. I’ll wake up. He won’t leave. He can’t leave.

But Felix’s arms were warm and trembling around him, his voice breaking into Hyunjin’s ear. “I’m sorry, Hyunjinnie. I’m so sorry.”

Hyunjin pulled back just enough to see his face. “Stop saying sorry. Please text me. Huh? Please” His voice cracked into a sob. “Please don't forget about me. Don't forget about us. Don’t—” His words dissolved as he crushed Felix against him again, tears burning down his cheeks.

Then the staff opened the door, capturing their crumbling hearts, “Felix, it’s time to leave.”

The tone was cold, clipped, like it was nothing more than an errand.

Felix bowed several times, his hands trembling against the handle of his suitcase. His eyes swept over the group. His brothers, his family in Korea. He looked at everyone before finally landing on Hyunjin again. For a second, Hyunjin thought he might run back. But instead, Felix turned, stepping through the door.

The soft click of it closing was louder than any slam.

The members dispersed slowly, shoulders heavy, some retreating to their rooms, some disappearing into the living room to cry in silence. But Hyunjin didn’t move. He stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the handle as though staring hard enough might rewind time.

His vision blurred. His chest hurt. He whispered to himself, “This is a dream. Just a dream..."

He stood for a good eight minutes. And then his body moved before his mind caught up.

He ran.

“Hyunjin! Where are you going?” Chan’s voice cut through the dorm entrance, loud and urgent, but it barely reached him. “The curfew’s in fifteen minutes!”

The words didn’t matter. Curfew didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the fading memory of Felix.

The air outside smelled faintly of iron and earth before Hyunjin even registered the drops. He stepped barefoot into the corridor, and the floorboards bit into his soles, cold and unyielding. A dizziness curled in his head, the world tilting sideways as if it, too, couldn’t bear the weight pressing down on him. His fists clenched hard, nails digging crescents into his palms until they hurt. Stop crying. Stop crying.

But his eyes burned, stinging like smoke, and the world blurred into shimmering fragments.

It was the shift of winter to spring. But it should have been snowing. The weather app said so. He had waited for that comfort. The soft hush of white flakes floating gently, the quiet blanket that made everything look like a dream. Snow would’ve felt merciful, forgiving. But no. Today, of all days, it rained. Cold, wet, merciless. The kind of rain that didn’t cleanse, only carved deeper wounds.

The drops fell harder, soaking through his thin shirt in seconds, plastering his hair flat against his forehead. Each hit of rain against his skin felt like pinpricks, reminders of what he was losing.

His bare feet slapped the pavement with sharp, wet smacks, each puddle splashing icy water up his calves. Pebbles dug into his skin, but the sting only pushed him harder. His lungs burned, the winter air slashing down his throat, raw and brutal, but still he kept running. His heart thrashed against his ribs, as if trying to leap out of his chest to chase Felix faster.

The rain blurred the street lamps into halos of orange and white. Shadows of umbrellas bobbed in the distance, people hurrying home, faces indistinct. All Hyunjin saw was ahead, the flicker of headlights, the faint shape of a car, staff uniforms moving with practiced efficiency.

And then, Felix. There he was.

The staff closed the trunk with a dull, final thud. Felix’s suitcase was swallowed inside, hidden from view, locked away. Felix stood by the car door, his figure faintly silhouetted in the lamplight. His hair clung damp to his temples, his shoulders small beneath the oversized hoodie. For one fleeting second, Hyunjin swore their eyes met through the veil of drizzle.

“Felix!”

The scream tore from his throat, raw and desperate, jagged enough to scrape his lungs. It carried into the rain, heavy, trembling. And his whole soul poured into that single name.

But the car door shut.

The engine rumbled to life. The wheels began to roll forward.

Hyunjin sprinted, his chest tearing open with every breath. His legs screamed with pain, bare soles slipping against the slick pavement. His fists pumped helplessly at his sides as though sheer force could bridge the distance.

“Hyunjin!” Jisung called sharply with an umbrella. But Hyunjin couldn’t hear. Or refused to. All he heard was the rain hammering the ground and the hollow drum of his heartbeat, louder and louder, screaming louder than his own voice.

The car moved further, the red tail lights glowing faintly in the blur of rain. He pushed harder, his breath ragged, his vision a haze of tears and water. Don’t go. Don’t leave. Please.

Every step felt like it would be his last, but still he ran. His body was a blur of pain. His lungs seared, calves cramped, feet torn raw on gravel but his heart screamed louder than the agony.

Felix’s face flickered in his mind, soft and tear-streaked, whispering “I’m sorry.” The memory only made him run harder. He reached out, arm stretching hopelessly into the wet air as though he could grab the car with his bare hands, drag it back, keep Felix here where he belonged.

But the tail lights shrank.

Smaller.

Smaller.

Until they were just pinpricks in the dark, swallowed by the curtain of rain.

Hyunjin stumbled to a stop, his legs finally giving out. He dropped to his knees in the middle of the wet street, the cold water soaking into his pants, seeping into his skin. His hands hit the pavement hard, scraping raw against the rough concrete, but he didn’t feel it. His chest heaved, his breaths shallow, choking.

His eyes stayed locked on the empty road ahead, even though the car was gone. He still expected to see it, to hear the rumble of the engine, to see Felix’s figure through the glass. But there was nothing. Just the rain, falling mercilessly.

He pressed his fists against his temples, nails biting into his scalp, a strangled sob tearing from him. God, please. Give him back. Just one more minute. Just one more chance. Please.

"I wanna wake up from this nightmare..." He mumbled. But the pain in his knees, the sting in his palms, the wet sting of rain—every sensation screamed the same truth. Felix was gone.

His tears spilled freely, mixing with the rain, indistinguishable on his cheeks. His lips formed Felix’s name again, but this time it was a broken whisper, barely carried by the storm.

Jisung called from behind, footsteps splashing toward him. But his voice was muffled, distant, meaningless. 

“Yah! Hyunjin! Can't you hear me? Are you fucking dumb?” Jisung’s voice cracked. It was desperate and raw. He yanked Hyunjin under his umbrella, though it hardly mattered anymore since Hyunjin was already drenched, trembling. “Let’s go home! Get your shit together, please. You have to accept it—Felix already left!”

Jisung’s grip tightened on Hyunjin’s wrist, a lifeline that only felt like a shackle. Hyunjin tore away, shoving him so hard he stumbled back into the curb, the umbrella skidding out of his hands. It clattered uselessly, leaving both of them exposed to the downpour.

“Shut the fuck up, Han!” Hyunjin’s voice broke into something closer to an animal’s cry than words. His chest heaved, teeth clenched so tight he could taste blood. “You don’t know a thing!”

Jisung’s eyes darted, jaw twitching as if he might break. His hand fisted Hyunjin’s collar, shaking with rage, with grief that had nowhere else to go. The rain painted his face with streaks of water that could’ve been tears.

“Don’t you dare say that. Out of everyone, you know I was the one who couldn’t breathe when Minho-hyung was eliminated. You think I don’t understand? You think I don’t know that emptiness is eating you alive?” His voice cracked. “I’m trying to save you from drowning in it. Because I know exactly how it feels to fucking die inside.”

But Hyunjin only doubled over, sobbing harder, his words dissolving into the storm. “I don’t need your help, Han! I don’t want it! Just let me rot!”

For a long, hollow second, all that existed was the sound of rain pelting broken bodies. Then Jisung shoved him away like something irreparably shattered. His knuckles were white as he snatched the umbrella back, his face twisted with fury, but his eyes burned with something worse.

“Fuck you,” Jisung spat, his voice hoarse. And with that, he turned his back, his footsteps vanishing into the storm.

Hyunjin stayed behind, left standing in the gutter with the downpour pounding on him, his screams swallowed by the night until they were indistinguishable from the rain.

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