Chapter Text
The first time
The practice room smelled faintly like sweat and cheap convenience store ramen: the kind they always bought after staying too late. Someone had turned the lights off 20 minutes ago, leaving only the softer glow from the hallway spilling through the cracked open door.
Around Joshua, the others were already losing the battle with gravity. Chan was a star-shaped heap on the floor and Soonyoung’s head kept dipping toward his chest in jerky little nods. It had been a long day, and it was no surprise that only Seokmin was still going.
“I’m telling you,” Seokmin said, gesturing with a crumpled water bottle, “if we don’t hit that pivot together, the whole formation looks like a broken umbrella.”
“My arms feel like lead. Let the umbrella stay broken until tomorrow.” Mingyu groaned from somewhere in the dark.
“It’s about the intention! We need to nail it down!” Seokmin insisted, though he was smiling.
As Joshua watched him, his own vision started to go soft at the edges. He wanted to add something — maybe a joke about Seokmin’s ‘intentions’ usually involving accidental elbows — but his brain felt like it was lagging two and a half seconds behind. He’d spent half the previous night helping Chan with some English homework, and the lack of sleep was finally catching up. It turned everything around him into a hazy, slow motion blur.
Unconsciously, Joshua found himself shifting closer towards Seokmin. Despite Seokmin’s loudness at times, there was a certain brand of comfort and softness that just radiated off of him. It was a steady, grounded energy that felt safer than the silence of the other trainees around them.
“Hyung, you’re fading.” Seokmin murmured, his voice dropping an octave and losing the performative energy he used for the group.
“I’m fine, just thinking.” Joshua managed, though his eyelids felt like they weighed half a kilo each.
“About what? The back of your eyelids?”
Joshua huffed a laugh but his eyes were already half-closed. All of a sudden, his head felt too heavy for his neck and he let it tip, just for a second, intending to lean against the mirror. He missed the mirror completely, but he didn’t know that: at least until he woke up.
When Joshua woke up, the first thing he realized was that he wasn't leaning against the mirror. Whatever his head was resting against, it was soft, but firm — a shoulder, and it was moving slightly with the rhythm of someone else’s breathing.
Then came the snickering.
“Look at them.” Even in his half-asleep state, Joshua recognized Seungkwan’s voice, thick with mischief. “Should we take a picture?”
“Stop it, Kwan-ah.” Seokmin’s voice was right above Joshua’s ear, strangely tight. “He barely slept last night. Leave him alone.”
“You’re just enjoying the attention.” Jeonghan teased, his voice further away.
Joshua’s heart did a sudden, uncomfortable kick against his chest. He sat up so fast that he felt dizzy. The room was brighter now — someone had flicked a light on, and the sight of the others grinning at him made him want to melt into the floor.
“I — sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” Joshua stammered and rubbed the remaining sleep out of his eyes. When he felt the heat rise to his cheeks, he ducked his head to try and hide his face. He wasn’t even sure why he felt so embarrassed; it wasn’t like the others never fell asleep on each other before.
“Do what? Use Seokmin as a pillow?” Soonyoung grinned as he stretched his arms. “You looked cozy. We were going to leave you there and go to the dorms.”
“You were not.” Seokmin shot back, though he was looking everywhere but at Joshua. He started fussing with the phone in his hands, his movements quick and a little clumsy.
The group started filtering out and the teasing thankfully dissolved into tired talk about what was left in the fridge back at the dorm. But both Seokmin and Joshua were still glued to their spots on the floor, Joshua certain that the other could hear his heart beating against his chest.
“Seriously. I’m sorry Seokmin-ah. I must’ve been out for a while.” Joshua said quietly once the door had swung nearly shut.
Seokmin stopped messing with his phone and looked at Joshua. He didn't look annoyed or even particularly amused anymore — he just looked tired in a way that made him seem older.
“It’s not a big deal.” Seokmin said. He reached out, giving Joshua’s arm a quick, bracing squeeze before he stood and offered a hand to pull Joshua up. “You were exhausted. I wasn’t going to push you onto the floor.”
As they walked toward the door, Joshua realized his neck didn't ache at all. Seokmin must have sat perfectly still the entire time, holding his posture steady just to keep Joshua’s head from slipping. He hadn't flinched or moved an inch.
Seokmin reached for the light switch and the room was plunged into shadows before they stepped into the hall. In that last second of darkness, Joshua looked at Seokmin's silhouette and felt a strange, quiet shiver. It wasn't just that Seokmin had let him stay; it was that he’d worked to keep him comfortable.
“You coming?” Seokmin asked, holding the door.
“Yeah,” Joshua said as he followed Seokmin out, “coming.”
The second time
The dorm living room was a disaster zone of tangled blankets and discarded snack wrappers. With thirteen boys crammed into one space, movie night always felt a bit like a contact sport. Joshua had managed to claim a corner of the couch but before he could even get settled, Seokmin dropped down next to him, nearly sending Joshua’s shoulder into the armrest.
"Personal space, Seokmin-ah." Joshua said, though he didn't actually move away.
"Don't have any." Seokmin grinned as he dug into a bag of chips. "Besides, your side of the couch is comfier.”
Joshua shook his head as a small smile tugged at his mouth. Over the last few months, this had become their baseline. They didn't really have to ask where the other was sitting anymore; they just gravitated towards each other like it was written into the choreography of their lives.
The movie was some loud action film that Mingyu had insisted on. Not exactly Joshua’s cup of tea at the moment, but he wasn’t going to complain since Mingyu genuinely seemed to want to watch it. Though ten minutes in, the plot was already lost on Joshua, mostly because Seokmin wouldn't stop leaning over to provide a running commentary.
“If I was being chased like that, I’d simply survive.”
Joshua snorted quietly as the actor onscreen tripped over something and immediately got caught.
Seokmin clicked his tongue. “See? Lack of survival instincts.”
“You would die first.” Joshua whispered back.
“Absolutely false.”
“You scream when the toaster pops.”
“That happened one time.”
Joshua laughed again, shoulders shaking this time, and Seokmin grinned triumphantly like making Joshua laugh had been the goal all along.
"Can you two get a room?" Jeonghan groaned from the floor. He didn’t even look back from where he was resting his head on a pile of cushions. "Or at least shut up. Some of us are trying to pretend this movie is good."
A few months ago, a comment like that would’ve probably sent Joshua spiraling — but he felt different about it now: not that it didn’t twist his insides left and right quite a bit; it still did. But no matter how many similar comments were thrown their way, Seokmin never reacted negatively. Heck, he never really even acknowledged them directly. And although a tiny, confused part of Joshua felt saddened by the lack of acknowledgement, he knew it was better than the alternative.
"Sorry." Joshua muttered, though he was still grinning as he watched Seokmin mime zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key.
For a while, they actually stayed quiet. Joshua tried to focus on the movie, but the long day of rehearsals started to pull at him. His eyes felt sandy and the steady, solid presence of Seokmin beside him felt like an invitation to just... stop holding himself up.
His head drifted, finding a comfortable spot, and the world went dark.
When Joshua’s eyes finally blinked open, the room was much quieter. The TV was on a menu screen and casted a soft, blueish glow over the others sleeping scattered across the floor. And that was when Joshua realized: he wasn't sitting up anymore. His head was pillowed on something soft — Seokmin’s thigh.
The realization hit him with a jolt of heat, but he stayed frozen because he felt a, gentle soothing sensation against his scalp. Seokmin was sitting back, his eyes half-closed, his fingers moving through Joshua’s hair in slow, absentminded strokes. If Joshua’s heart wasn’t beating so rapidly, it would’ve probably been enough to send him right back to sleep. Seokmin’s touch was so gently, so soft, and Joshua found himself unconsciously leaning into it.
The hand in his hair paused. "Hey, you’re back." Seokmin murmured.
Joshua felt his face heating up. "Did I... how long was I out?”
"Long enough for the hero to save the world and for Mingyu to cry at the ending." Seokmin said. His voice had a quiet, grounded steadiness to it that made Joshua’s heart do something strange. "You looked like you needed the sleep.”
He didn't pull his hand away immediately and his thumb grazed the shell of Joshua's ear before he finally let go.
"I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you." Joshua said, his voice a bit raspy.
"I didn't mind." Seokmin said simply.
Seungkwan shuffled past them towards the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and looking completely done with the night. He paused to look down at the two of them: Joshua still halfway on Seokmin's lap and Seokmin looking perfectly content.
"You two are actually ridiculous. Just get a room." Seungkwan muttered and shook his head before walking off.
Joshua scrambled into a sitting position so fast he got a head rush, his hands flying to his knees. "We were just—."
Seokmin just laughed and stretched his arms over his head with a loud yawn. "Ignore him, hyung. He's just grumpy because he ran out of soda."
As they started picking up the trash to head to their rooms, Joshua stole a glance at Seokmin. He realized then that Seokmin hadn't just 'let' him sleep there. He’d adjusted his own position, stayed still for over an hour, and watched over him.
It may seem like a small thing, but to Joshua, it didn’t just a friendship anymore; it was something that felt a lot more like home.
The third time
The city lights outside the van were nothing more than long, blurred streaks of yellow and white. They’d been at the station for nearly 12 hours and by the time the doors were shut, the air inside the van felt heavy with a collective, bone-deep exhaustion.
Joshua scrambled into the back row first, craving the corner where he could disappear. Seokmin was right on his heels as he usually was, squeezing into the middle seat and knocking his shoulder against Joshua’s.
"Get your own row." Joshua mumbled, though he didn't actually move an inch. He didn’t really mind Seokmin’s company at all — in fact, he’d expected it as always.
"In your dreams." Seokmin said as he settled in.
"Every single night." Mingyu grumbled from the row in front of them, dropping into his seat with a loud huff. "How do you two always end up with the most legroom? It’s a conspiracy. Shua hyung’s one of the last people in the group who needs leg room!”
“I’m not that shorter than the others, Gyu.”
Seokmin leaned forward, a tired but mischievous glint in his eyes. "It’s not a conspiracy. It’s called being faster than a giant. Maybe try growing some wings instead of just being tall.”
"Hilarious." Mingyu deadpanned, but he was already leaning his head back, too tired to mount a real defense.
As the van pulled away, the silence was eventually replaced with the soft sound of post-schedule chatter. Seungkwan was dissecting a mistake someone made during the bridge, and Soonyoung was nodding off while trying to argue back. Usually, Joshua would’ve joined in, but his brain felt like it was drifting in a fog. He tried to focus on what Seokmin was saying — something about a joke he’d cracked with a staff member — but his nods were becoming sluggish.
Then for some reason, Seokmin just stopped mid-sentence.
He didn't ask if Joshua was tired; they’d moved past needing to ask the obvious months ago. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone and untangled a pair of earphones with practiced ease.
"Hey,” his voice went softer — that same tone Joshua only somehow heard whenever the two of them were talking just between themselves. “I found this track last night. It reminded me of that acoustic stuff you used to play back in the dorms.”
He handed Joshua the left earbud, and Joshua tucked it into his ear without second thought.
The music started: a soft guitar melody that felt like a cool hand on a fevered forehead. Joshua closed his eyes as he let the vocals anchor him. It was a beautiful song, and having Seokmin share it with him made it feel even more intimate: like a small secret held between them in the middle of the crowded van. He meant to give the earphone back after the song ended, but when the final note faded, Seokmin just let the next one play. And the one after that.
The rhythm of the van and the steady, melodic tune in his ear were too much to fight. Slowly, surely, his eyes began to close on their own accord.
When Joshua next felt the world, it was because the van had lurched to a stop at a red light. He wasn't leaning against the window anymore; that was what disoriented him more than anything. He was tucked firmly into the crook of Seokmin’s shoulder, his face pressed against the soft, worn fabric of a hoodie.
Joshua started to shift, intending to sit up, but the movement was stopped by a solid, gentle weight across his back. It was Seokmin’s arm.
He realized then that Seokmin’s arm wasn't just there by accident; it was hooked firmly around his shoulders to anchor him in place. It kept him from sliding every time the van banked into a turn. But it was the warmth that really got to him — the realization that he was almost entirely swallowed up by Seokmin’s oversized hoodie. Seokmin must have pulled it off and tucked it around him while he was out, draped like a heavy, soft shield against the coldness in the van.
Joshua’s heart did a slow, nervous thud against his chest.
He froze, his breath hitching just enough that he was sure Seokmin would notice, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. He didn't want the spell to break. If he stayed still, he could pretend he was still asleep, and he could keep the feeling of Seokmin’s thumb idly tracing a small, absentminded circle on his arm.
It was too much. It was way too much and yet, he found himself leaning just a fraction deeper into the heat of Seokmin's side.
"Jeonghan hyung." Joshua heard Seokmin whisper. His voice was low, vibrating slightly through Seokmin's chest against Joshua's temple. "Can you turn the air down? It’s getting cold back here."
There was a rustle of clothing as Jeonghan turned around. Joshua could practically hear the smirk in the silence before Jeonghan spoke.
"You look pretty comfortable back there, Seokmin-ah." Jeonghan’s voice was a playful: sharp, but still deeply affectionate. "Need a pillow for yourself, too?"
"Shut up." Seokmin replied, though there was no heat in it. "Just fix the vent. He’s finally actually sleeping."
"Whatever you say." Jeonghan hummed, followed by the soft click of the AC being adjusted.
Joshua stayed exactly where he was, pretending the low music in the car was still the only thing he was hearing. But the music wasn't the focus anymore. It was the heat radiating from Seokmin’s side, the protective way his arm tightened just a fraction when the van started moving again, and the fact that Seokmin hadn't moved an inch to save his own comfort.
A slow, terrifying realization settled over Joshua, heavier than the exhaustion. This wasn't just two friends being tired after work. It was the way he felt safe, far too safe, wrapped up in Seokmin.
The fourth time
The cabin lights had been dimmed low enough to mimic nighttime: all soft gold lighting and quiet murmurs from the flight attendants helping everyone get situated. Most of the members had already claimed their pods, disappearing behind blankets and privacy screens.
Joshua was among the last to board and as he walked down the aisle, he felt a familiar, sharp tug in his chest. Of course the only seat left was the one right next to Seokmin.
Along the way, Jeonghan was already settled in with a book forgotten on his lap. He looked up and his gaze darted from the empty seat, to Joshua’s face. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Joshua narrowed his eyes at him warningly, but Jeonghan only looked more pleased.
It had been months since that disastrous night when Joshua had made the mistake of drinking alone with Jeonghan and Seungcheol after an award show. Months since he’d admitted — very quietly and very sincerely — that he thought he might actually be in trouble where Seokmin was concerned.
Jeonghan had never let him live it down.
“You’re so obvious.” Jeonghan said at the time. “I feel like this confirmation was unnecessary. Don’t you, Cheol?”
Joshua had nearly choked on his drink. “I am not.”
“You literally stare at him when he talks.”
“That’s because he’s loud.”
“Mhm.”
And now, unfortunately, Jeonghan carried that same knowing look every single time Joshua and Seokmin ended up near each other.
…Which was often.
"Hey, hyung! You're back here too?" Seokmin’s voice was a bright burst of energy that didn't quite fit the sleepy atmosphere of the cabin. He looked up from his screen, his smile wide and effortless.
And there it was again. That stupid little flutter in Joshua’s chest that never seemed to get any better no matter how much time passed.
Joshua hated it a little, mostly because it was Seokmin. Seokmin, who smiled at everyone like that. Seokmin, who was endlessly affectionate without thinking twice about it. Joshua knew better than to read into every warm glance and casual touch.
"Looks like it." Joshua said as he slid into the seat.
He told himself to be cool, to just act like a friend. But every time Seokmin smiled like that, Joshua felt like a poorly constructed house of cards. It was just Seokmin: the same guy who spilled coffee on his white shirts and laughed until he couldn't breathe at his own jokes.
The good thing was, being around Seokmin always made it easy to forget himself for a while.
Joshua could spend hours worrying over his feelings in private, could lie awake wondering if he was getting too attached, if he was becoming too obvious, if he needed to pull himself together before somebody noticed. Then Seokmin would sit beside him and start talking about something ridiculous and suddenly, Joshua would stop thinking altogether.
It happened now, too. Within ten minutes they were already sharing snacks between their seats while Seokmin complained dramatically about the movie selection.
“How are all of these three hours long? Who watches these on purpose?”
“You watch documentaries for fun.”
“That’s different. Those are educational.”
Joshua hummed skeptically. “You fell asleep during the penguin one.”
“I was resting my eyes.”
“You were snoring.” Joshua pointed out.
Seokmin gasped softly, scandalized. “Lies.”
Joshua smiled despite himself and reached over to scroll through the options. Eventually they settled on something neither of them cared very deeply about, mostly because it gave them something to half-watch while talking over it anyway.
At some point during the flight, the cabin grew quieter. One by one, the members drifted off to sleep around them. The overhead lights dimmed further, soft enough now that the windows reflected faint outlines back into the cabin instead of clouds.
Joshua tried to stay awake, he really did. But the combination of the low lighting and Seokmin’s warmth beside him made exhaustion creep up faster than he expected. The last thing Joshua remembered clearly was Seokmin laughing quietly at something happening onscreen.
Then everything blurred.
When Joshua woke again, the movie had long since ended. He felt unusually warm and for a second, he couldn't quite place why — until he realized he wasn't leaning against his own seat at all.
He was completely tucked into Seokmin’s side.
It was a bit of a shock to see his own hand buried in the fabric of Seokmin’s hoodie, his fingers hooked into the cotton like he’d been holding on for dear life while he slept. Even worse: Seokmin’s head was resting right on top of his. He could feel the steady rise and fall of Seokmin’s chest and the slight pressure of a chin against his hair.
Everything was quiet, and the air in the cabin was still. Joshua stared at his hand, his heart starting to do a nervous little skip. He knew he should move. He should probably let go of the hoodie, sit up, and act like he’d just accidentally slipped over.
But then Seokmin shifted a tiny bit in his sleep, not pulling away, but actually settling his weight more firmly against Joshua.
Joshua stayed frozen. His brain was telling him to wake up for real and be normal, but his body wouldn't listen. He just couldn't bring himself to break the contact — not when this was something he’d been secretly wanting for so long. Plus: what was he even supposed to do? Just move away? Wake Seokmin? Maybe he should just pretend to be asleep forever.
Before he could decide, movement in the aisle caught his attention.
Joshua squeezed his eyes shut, but he could already feel a presence hovering nearby and the sound of footsteps stopped. He risked a tiny, blurred peek through his lashes: it was Jeonghan, clutching a water bottle on his way back to his seat.
Jeonghan froze, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of them tangled together. That triumphant, "I-told-you-so" smirk returned, but it didn't last long. As he looked at Joshua — really looked at how tightly he was clinging to Seokmin — his expression shifted into something surprisingly gentle.
Jeonghan leaned in, his voice a barely-there whisper. "You want me to nudge him? You look like you're losing circulation in that arm."
Joshua looked up at Jeonghan, his face probably a map of sheer, pathetic longing. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "No… he’s been working so hard. Let him sleep."
Jeonghan’s eyes twinkled with a mix of pity and genuine sweetness. He reached out and briefly ruffled the hair on the back of Joshua’s head in a rare moment of unscripted affection.
"Mhmm. Right." Jeonghan murmured, his voice trailing off as he started to walk away. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Joshuji."
Joshua watched him go, then let his eyes drift shut again. He didn't let go of the hoodie. If anything, he tucked his chin a little deeper into the fabric, breathing in the scent of laundry detergent and Seokmin. He knew he was in trouble. This wasn't a clumsy accident or a byproduct of a cramped van anymore.
It was quiet, it was chosen, and it felt far too much like home.
The fifth time
Joshua was pretty sure he’d reached the stage of exhaustion where his bones actually felt heavy.
He sat alone in the hotel restaurant, the air still and quiet in that way only early mornings are, watching pale sunlight hit the empty tables. He looked at the coffee machine near the buffet with genuine hope, only to find a handwritten "Out of Order" sign taped to the front.
He actually let out a short, tired laugh. It felt personal.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to force his brain to function. The schedule with one of his brand deals the night before had dragged on until two in the morning, and the constant smiling and camera flashes had left him feeling like a hollowed-out version of himself. He just needed one cup of coffee to feel like a person again, yet even that the universe couldn’t give him.
Usually he handled exhaustion well. Years of touring had made all of them good at functioning on little sleep. Smile through rehearsals, get through soundcheck, drink enough caffeine to survive the concert, repeat.
And technically, Joshua could still do that now. But there was a difference between surviving schedules and feeling human through them, and this morning he felt distinctly less human than he would’ve liked.
“I got you something.”
Joshua jumped slightly and nearly knocked his phone off the table. He looked up to find Seokmin sliding into the chair next to him. His hair was still a little damp from a shower and he was holding... two cups of coffee?
"Where’d you get these?" Joshua asked, his voice a little scratchy.
Seokmin pushed one of the cups towards him and Joshua practically melted from relief when the warmth of it seeped into palms. "The cafe in the lobby just opened. Heard the machine in here was broken so thought to drop by there.”
Joshua took a sip, the heat immediately cutting through the dull ache in his head. "You didn't have to go all the way down there."
"It's not a big deal." Seokmin said, ducking his head with that bashful half-smile that always made Joshua’s chest feel tight. "Besides, Jeonghan mentioned had a really late night. I didn't want you crashing before soundcheck."
Joshua looked at him over the rim of his cup. Seokmin was always like this: attentive in a way that felt effortless. It was dangerous, really. Joshua could spend weeks building up walls and telling himself that his feelings were just a side effect of working so closely together for years. Then Seokmin would do something like this, and those walls would just crumble.
Maybe that was why Joshua suddenly found himself absurdly touched by the sight of Seokmin carrying two coffees through the hotel at seven in the morning because he thought Joshua might need one.
"You're too good to me." Joshua said softly.
Seokmin laughed, a bright, genuine sound that felt way too loud for seven in the morning, but Joshua didn't mind it. "I try."
They sat together in the quiet for a while with Seokmin rambling about some ridiculous dream he’d had while Joshua listened, feeling himself finally start to relax. He drifted, leaning back into his chair with the steady sound of Seokmin’s voice.
Jihoon arrived first out of the others, looking exactly like someone who deeply resented being awake before noon.
“You look terrible.” He told Joshua by way of greeting.
Joshua laughed tiredly. “Thank you.”
“He means that affectionately.” Seokmin said.
“I absolutely do not.”
Jihoon stole a piece of toast off Seokmin’s plate before sitting down across from them, and somehow the conversation simply continued from there. Seokmin started recounting the story again for Jihoon’s benefit, dramatically offended every time Jihoon interrupted to correct details.
Joshua tried to keep up, he really did.
But the warmth of the coffee in his hands, the low murmur of Seokmin’s voice beside him, the exhaustion still dragging at his body from the night before… it all blurred together slowly until staying awake started feeling less like a choice and more like a losing battle.
At some point, Joshua shifted closer to Seokmin without thinking. Then closer, still. The next thing he registered was warmth: solid warmth beneath his cheek.
His face was tucked into the soft fabric of Seokmin's hoodie, and he could feel the steady thud of a heartbeat under his cheek. He realized, with a jolt of pure adrenaline, that he wasn't just leaning on Seokmin — he was practically cuddled into Seokmin’s side. Even worse: Seokmin’s arm was draped over his shoulders, holding him steady.
He also realized the restaurant wasn't empty anymore: there was the clatter of silverware and the low murmur of the other members eating nearby. Joshua sat up so fast his head spun.
"Sorry.” Joshua stammered, his face feeling like it was on fire. "I didn't mean to—."
"It's fine." Seokmin said, his voice soft and completely devoid of judgment; he just looked at Joshua with genuine concern. "You were dead to the world — I didn’t want to move you."
Joshua grabbed his coffee mostly to avoid looking directly at Seokmin. He was trying very hard not to think about how comfortable he’d been a second ago: about how naturally Seokmin had held him, about how nobody around them had even reacted anymore because apparently Joshua falling asleep on Seokmin had become normal.
The thought followed him through the rest of the day anyway, and then that night made everything worse.
He was back in his hotel room, fresh out of the shower, when his phone started vibrating with a frantic series of notifications. He picked it up expecting a schedule change. Instead, it was a photo.
The photo had clearly been taken from a distance, likely through the restaurant’s tall glass windows, but the clarity was devastating. It captured the two of them in a pocket of stillness that felt far too private for the public eye. Joshua was curled into Seokmin’s chest, eyes closed, looking entirely at peace. Seokmin for his part, had his arm wrapped around him in a way that looked undeniably protective as he looked down at Joshua with a soft look in his eyes.
The post was already a mess of heart emojis and screaming caps:
They’re ridiculous 😭😭😭
this is the softest thing i’ve ever seen???
seoksoo are basically married at this point
YOUR HONOR WHO GAVE THEM THE RIGHT
Joshua’s stomach dropped and a cold, hollow sensation spread through his middle. He was used to ship posts — it was a part of the job he’d learned to navigate years ago — but this was different. Usually, there was a layer of performance or playfulness to hide behind.
But there was no performance here. He had been asleep. He hadn’t been guarding himself, and the camera had caught the exact way he felt about Seokmin: helpless, attached, and completely centered on him.
The panic started to set in, sharp and suffocating. He thought back to the previous year: the endless notifications, the sudden, sharp turn of the fans, the way his every move had been picked apart during his own dating rumors. He still carried the weight of that backlash as a quiet ache that hadn't fully gone away. He could handle people hating him; he’d already proven that. But the idea of that vitriol shifting towards Seokmin made him feel physically ill.
Seokmin, who was all sunshine and kindness. Seokmin, who had gone downstairs at seven in the morning just to bring him a coffee. He didn't deserve to have his name dragged through the mud or to be looked at with suspicion because of Joshua’s lack of control.
Worst of all, Joshua stared at the way his own hand was clutching Seokmin's hoodie. It looked so obvious. If it was this clear to a stranger with a long-lens camera, it was only a matter of time before Seokmin saw it, too.
And then what? Seokmin would see the way Joshua leaned into him, the way Joshua lingered in his space, and he’d realize it wasn't just "brotherly love." He’d realize Joshua was actually in love with him.
If Seokmin knew, things would change. The easy laughs, the shared earphones, the way Seokmin felt like a safe harbor — all of it would be colored by an awkward, heavy tension. Seokmin was too nice to be cruel about it, which almost made it worse. He’d try to be careful with Joshua’s feelings and in the process, the friendship they’d spent so many years building would fracture.
Joshua stared at the screen until the image blurred into a mess of colors. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let Seokmin get hurt, and Joshua couldn't let him know.