He lets out a content sigh as you sink down onto him. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers almost inaudibly. He clenches his jaw, like he’s trying so hard to keep still. You pause once he’s fully inside, taking your time to adjust to his size. 

He props himself up on his elbows, unable to stop himself from staring at where he disappears inside of you. Slowly, experimentally, you roll your hips. His mouth falls open at the movement. A small amount of sweat already causes his biceps to glisten in the low light. You moan, and his eyes snap up to admire your blissed expression. 

You keep grinding, feeling him hit the perfect spot inside you, clit brushing against him with every motion. Fuck, he’s so good for you. You chase your high by speeding up ever so slightly. He grips your waist and sets a slower pace himself. “ - Gonna kill me,” he whimpers, “Not gonna last.”.

He can’t help himself - he thrusts once up into you, still moving your hips. You let out a choked moan, eyes squeezing shut. He can see how weak you are - sleepiness and pleasure finally overtaking you. He takes the opportunity to sit up and hold you against his chest. You never stop your motions. 

The new angle has his cock reaching deeper inside. He feels you squeeze tighter, and his head falls to your shoulder. He’s done for when you breathe his name like it’s the only thing you remember. He needs you to come with him, needs you to feel just as good as he is. 

He reaches between your thighs and rubs small circles on your clit. A few more delicious motions, and both of your highs hit you together. He lets out a final moan, lightly biting your skin in an attempt to be quiet, and you feel the familiar warmth inside you. You try to ride out your own pleasure, but falter, his name falling from your lips as his fingers stay on your clit. 

He keeps holding you against him, giving you both time to catch your breath. Eventually, he chuckles quietly and softly kisses your neck. “Thank you, baby,” he murmurs. He falls back with you into the mattress, whispering his praises until you fall asleep again.

MINHO

The entire world has faded to just you two in his hotel room. Minho’s sighs and flustered groans ring in sync with your heavenly grinds. His upper back is pressed against the headboard. It must be uncomfortable, but he doesn't seem to even know where he is right now. Usually he’s a lot more composed than this. Usually, he wouldn’t just let you climb on his lap, tease your tongue down his neck, whisper how good he’s being in his ear. However, his muscles are heavy after performing, and you looked so sweet asking, of course he gave in to you. 

The view of you is enough to draw out an unhurried smile that reveals his bunny teeth. His gleaming eyes search yours – intent on mentally cataloguing everything about this moment. That focus doesn’t last long. All it takes is one more small bounce, one more of your barely-contained gasps, and his head lolls backwards. His eyelids shutter halfway closed, but he never stops watching you. You’re squeezing around him perfectly, and you’re so warm in his arms, fuck, he can’t remember why you don’t do this more often. 

You’re beautiful like this. Moaning for him. Full of him. Giving everything to him, just as he gives everything to you. “C’mere,” he murmurs before pulling you further into his embrace. He kisses you, slow and sensual, absorbing your sounds as you keep rocking on him. His cock drags along your fluttering walls with every movement. Still working his lips against yours, he brings his hand down between your bodies to circle your clit in time with your grinds. As if reading the other’s mind, both of you speed up at once, chasing both your highs. 

Eventually, you have to pull away to breathe. “Minho,” you pant, gripping your nails into his shoulders, “Minho, feelsogood.” 

His cock twitches in you. His name, lovely and melodic, falling from your lips alone is almost enough to send him over the edge. Combined with your warm cunt pulling him in and the slight pain digging into his shoulders, he’s so close. He can tell you are too; your motions are starting to falter as heat builds inside you. His free hand holds your waist steady, helping guide you through the motions.

Another roll of your hips. Another gorgeous moan. “Baby, fuck,” is all the warning he can give. He groans your name, his grip tightens around you, and you feel the familiar warmth inside you. His orgasm triggers your own. Overwhelming pleasure washes over your body with Minho still circling your clit in an attempt to help work you through it. 

After a few seconds, the stimulation gets too much. He chuckles as you gently swat his hand away from your core. Still his lap, he straightens his positioning to get even closer to you. “Come back,” he whispers, connecting your lips again, holding you as you melt into him.

CHANGBIN

How could he ever resist his princess, laying in his bed like she knows she belongs there? 

You knew what he wanted the moment he crawled back beside you. He didn’t bother putting clothes back on after his post-gym shower. The scent of his body wash surrounds you, cozily tucked into the blankets. His damp hair is still slightly clinging to his skin. He leans in and gently kisses your shoulder. “G’morning,” he whispers against your skin. 

You kiss him in response. His groan is stifled in your mouth, but his arms wrap around your waist and easily shift you on top of him. You giggle at the sudden show of strength, matching his own smile at finally being able to feel you. He missed you so badly. 

He adjusts your hips slowly, giving you time to stop him if you want. You don’t. He moans as you sink down onto him, whispering “Fuck, princess,” into the cool air. “You don’t know what you do to me”. His head falls backwards onto the pillow. You take him so well. You pause, adjusting to his size, and his hands tighten on your hips, like he’s trying to contain himself. 

You sit up to straddle him and finally move, dragging your hips once back and forth. He bites back a gasp. God. He’s deep inside you now. You’re gorgeous on top of him. Even when you’re still sleepy, chasing your pleasure, you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

Underneath you, his muscles glow in the morning light. He’s heartbreakingly gentle with his touches, like he’s conscious of his own strength even like this. He almost loses it when you meet his eyes and smile back, so so perfect for him. 

Another roll of your hips. His cock slowly drags against your walls at your relaxed pace, and he’s no longer trying to hide his sounds. You speed up ever so slightly, chasing your own high. His eyes squeeze shut. Curses and pretty moans fall from his lips the more you keep going, the more you keep perfectly squeezing around him. 

You’re lost in him. Every motion brings you closer. He’s filling you perfectly, and your clit grazes him at every movement. You lean forward, anchoring your arms on his chest for support “Baby, fuck,” you breathe out, and his eyes snap open again to check on you. 

He groans at the sight - he can’t help it. You look wrecked for him. He’s not going to last. He needs you to come with him, fuck, he’s already holding back. 

You feel him start rubbing lazy circles on your clit in rhythm with your pace. Your choked cry is music to his ears. His other hand catches you when you slump forward, not able to support yourself anymore. “I know, princess,” he groans, voice as wrecked as you feel. “I know, I’ve got you.” 

Pressed against his chest, your release washes over you. He tries to keep rubbing your clit, his fingers faltering from the feeling of being squeezed tighter as yours continues. His own high hits him, and he moves his hand up to hold you as you feel the familiar warmth inside you. 

He doesn’t let go afterwards. You’re laying on him, wrapped in his arms, and he swears he’s in heaven. “Let’s just stay here,” he whispers, “for a little bit longer.” You nod against him. He has no intention of moving anytime soon. 

HYUNJIN

The only sounds in the room are your intertwined moans and the creak of the bedframe, matching the steady rhythm of your grinds against him. Sleepiness still lingers in the air, but right now, you each want to make the other feel good. “That’s my girl - fuck,” he moans from below you. Tiny amounts of sweat clings his hair to his skin. His hands grip your waist, not bruising, just guiding. “You feel so good - always s’good for me.” 

He fills you up so well. The angle has him hitting the perfect spot, and your clit brushes against him with every grind. Every movement brings you closer to your release. 

You roll your hips slowly, feeling every inch of him deep inside you. He sucks in a sharp breath. His grip on your waist tightens almost imperceptibly. A whine escapes his lips, eyes quickly darting to yours to check if you heard it. 

Of course you did. You smile back down at him and repeat the motion, enjoying the view of his head falling back as he stifles another whine. One hand drops from your waist to cling to the rumpled bedsheets, like he’s holding himself back. 

Another roll of your hips. His cock pushes further in, causing your knees to weaken from pleasure. You whimper, “Hyunjin, baby -” 

“I know, I’ve got you,” he breathes, and brings his hands up to support your weight. You let your body slump forward, leaning your arms against his chest as you try to keep your rhythm. His gaze lingers on your breasts, swaying as you move. 

Your pace falters more with each delicious grind, your high quickly approaching. He feels your walls clench around him and he knows you won’t last much longer. Neither will he. He needs you to come with him, but fuck, he’s already almost there. 

His eyes clench tight, one of his signs that he’s close. “Baby, please,” he begs, for nothing specifically and everything at once. He grabs your hand and guides it to your clit, choking on a sob as he watches you rub small circles in rhythm with your pace. 

Your orgasms overtake you at once. His name falls from your lips over and over, like a prayer, as waves of pleasure wash over you. He groans as he spills familiar warmth deep inside you. 

Afterwards, you lean forwards, laying on his chest. He runs a hand through your hair, pausing every so often to kiss the top of your forehead. He whispers, “I love you,” against your forehead. Eventually, the two of you drift off to sleep, still tangled in each other.

HAN

Everyone else is asleep. He should be quiet. He should stop moaning. However, he’s buried deep inside his pretty girl, and he wouldn’t notice if the world ended right now. You’re on his lap, kissing down his neck, driving him insane. He angles his head to give you more space, and moans even louder as you take advantage of it. 

You shift your weight, pushing him deeper inside you. Your head falls forward onto his shoulder. Everything about him - his scent, his touch, him - invades your senses. He’s brushing the perfect spot, and you’re not even moving yet. Like he’s reading your mind, he slightly squeezes your hips, his fingers digging into where they rest. 

His eyes are big behind his glasses. His chest rises and falls with how heavily he’s breathing. 

You rotate your hips, enjoying the view of his eyes rolling back into his skull. You moan in tandem - the sensation is too delicious for you to stop now. You repeat your motions. His high-pitched whine only spurs you forward, chasing the sensation of his cock hitting deep inside you again and again. His nails dig deeper into your skin. Already, the pain mixed with pleasure is almost too much. 

He’s not doing much better. Each time you moan his name brings him closer to the edge. He needs you to finish before him. He moves his hand to grip your inner thigh, thumb barely brushing your clit. He looks up at you, tears shining in his eyes. “Can I, please?” he breathes out. 

You nod so fast your vision slightly blurs. 

“thankyouthankyouthankyou” 

Then he’s pressing slightly harder, rubbing lazy circles while staring intently at where he’s connected to you. His glasses fall slightly down his nose. He doesn’t care. 

Fuck. Your movements get sloppier as the pleasure builds. His bedframe scrapes against the wall as you speed up. He’s incapable of forming words, just babbling half-sentences of praise. “Fuck, baby - so good for me - please - fucking please,” spills out. 

He can feel how close you are with how you clench around him. He just needs to hold on for a bit longer. He keeps rubbing your clit, and lifts himself up to kiss you. His lips work against yours, hoping he can convey his passion through it. 

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Your moans grow in volume as you try to ride it out. He never stops rubbing your clit. His own follows closely behind yours, spilling deep inside you. He breaks the kiss to repeat your name like a prayer.

You fall against his chest, both of you panting as you come down. His arms engulf you and squeeze you tighter against him. “Thank you,” he whispers against your cheek. Reluctantly, he moves you off his lap and ensures you’re comfortable laying against him. You two stay like that, holding each other, until you both drift off to sleep.

FELIX

His deep moans amplify the lust residing in the air. The only light comes from his long-forgotten PC, the abandoned login screen illuminating you two on his bed. Felix forgot the game exists. Right now, he’s just focused on trying to control himself as you roll your hips on top of him.  

You’re in his arms, making out with him, running your fingers through his long hair. You’re always so perfect for him. Always his ethereal angel. He’s already lost in you, and you’ve barely started. As you continue your slow movements, he breaks your kiss to brush a loose strand of hair out of your eyes, whispering, “so, so beautiful,” almost to himself. His cock twitches just from your resulting sweet smile.

You take your time, enjoying every inch of him. Your clit brushes against him with every movement. Your quiet moans are the prettiest sound he’s ever heard. He would stay here listening to you forever, if you let him. 

He’s vaguely aware he has a roommate on the other side of the wall, but that awareness is waning by the second. It’s gone completely when you speed up, chasing the feeling of him hitting deep inside you. He lets out a choked groan. His abs flex with restraint, like he’s holding himself back. 

Curses mixed with your name spill from his lips. One hand gently lands on your inner thigh, then travels over to your clit, rubbing small circles in rhythm with your motions. Your eyes squeeze shut, entirely focused on your building pleasure. 

“Look at me, angel,” his low voice breathes out. “Please.” Of course you do, and fuck, he looks divine. His freckled cheeks twinge pink. His long hair falls messily over his shoulders.  He holds your gaze and sighs, “That’s my girl.” 

You clench around him at the praise, and he swears he sees heaven for a moment. His head falls back into the pillow behind him as he keeps babbling, “Feels so good - always s’good - angel, fuck.” A few more motions, and you weaken from the sensations, leaning forward to steady yourself on his chest. Your combined moans fill the room. 

God, he’s so close, but he needs you to come with him. His fingers speed up on your clit, rubbing faster circles as he revels in your noises. Your highs hit together. He moans even deeper as you feel the familiar warmth inside you. Your hips falter on him as you try to ride out your waves of pleasure. He works you through it, still babbling out his love for you. 

Afterwards, he wraps his arms around you once more, pressing you into his bare chest. “Thank you, angel,” he whispers into your hair. He holds you against him, wrapped up in his sheets and each other, until you both drift off to sleep.

SEUNGMIN

Seungmin could not care less about the rest of his members going about their nightly routines outside his door. Why would he, when you’re in his arms, making out with him, slowly rolling your hips like you have all the time in the world. You do, as far as he’s concerned. He never rushes with you if he can help it. 

Your hands are laced in his hair, absentmindedly twirling some longer strands between your fingers. He moans at the sensation every so often. Right now, he would do anything if it meant you would stay in his bed, making him feel so good he’s about to start seeing stars. Your lips are so soft against his, and he’s fitting wonderfully inside you - squeezing like you are perfectly made for him. 

You pause your movements for a moment, and he actually whines. He pulls away from the kiss to steady his breathing. His efforts are futile - his breaths quickening again when you sit up, him still inside you, and graze your fingers over his chest. The new angle is pushing him in deeper than he was before. He moans your name and leans his head back into the pillows beneath him. 

You resume your motions, feeling every inch of his cock hitting deep inside you. He genuinely might lose it from the sight alone. His hands rub up and down on your thighs, trying to feel as much of you as possible. He can’t help himself - moaned snippets of praise spill out of his mouth faster than he can register his own words. “Fuck, baby - so good - oh my god - you’re beautiful,” is just part of what you’re able to catch. 

Your clit brushes against him with every grind. The sensation is delicious, paired with Seungmin’s whimpering voice and him staring up at you like you’re a goddess, you’re not going to last. He’s not either - he’s babbling more with each passing second. From below you, he stares up, suddenly looking more desperate. “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispers, and thrusts lightly up into you. 

You weaken from it, leaning forward onto him. He takes advantage of the position to kiss you again. “I’m yours,” you whisper against his lips. 

That does it. His head falls forward into your shoulder, whining softly again, as you feel the familiar warmth inside you. Your own orgasm follows quickly afterwards, pleasure washing over you, your pace faltering as you try to ride it out. 

For a few moments, neither of you move. He rubs small circles on your back as he attempts to recover from the slight overstimulation. Eventually, you begin to get off him, only to be met with him lightly grabbing you, keeping you in place. “Don’t,” he murmurs, “please.”

JEONGIN

He’s most beautiful in the quiet moments. He’s ethereal always, but there’s something about the unguarded version of Jeongin, with messy hair, easy smiles, and holding you close like he can’t fathom ever letting you slip away, that always gets you needing more. Outside, the low hum of others in the same space filters through the bottom of his door, but they might as well be lightyears away for all the attention Jeongin pays them. It’s easy to forget that anyone else exists. It’s easy to revel in each other, barriers shed, until every stress, every thought vanishes. 

You pull away from the kiss first, Jeongin’s eyes still closed and moving to follow after you, a line of spit that should be much more obscene than it actually is connecting the two of you. “Can’t wait anymore,” he murmurs, eyes still closed. “Please,” he adds, “just want you.” Underneath you, his flannel pajama bottoms tent seemingly painfully. You’re not doing much better. 

“Anything for you,” you breathe, intended as teasing, but it comes out more like an admission. Regardless, it has the desired effect, a strangled groan leaving him as he shimmies out of his clothes with record-breaking speed. 

Your moans intertwine as you sink down onto him. You’ve done this countless times, and will be in this position countless more, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the delicious pressure in the first few seconds. He knows this, too, if his barely-contained smug expression is anything to go by. It vanishes when you roll your hips, feeling his cock deep inside you. His forehead falls forward onto your shoulder, his hair tickles your collarbone. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose. 

“Fuck,” he groans into your skin, “you’re so good at that.” As if to accentuate his point, he can’t contain a sharp inhale as your movements speed up. 

Like mirror images of each other, the cockiness on your face is wiped away as his fingers find your clit to rub small circles in sync with your grinds. Raising his head again, his gleaming eyes search yours, soaking in your pleasure as much as he can. He can’t help himself; he thrusts up once, smiling again at your gasp. He pulls you in to kiss you again, lips working against yours, only broken by the moans escaping both of you. 

Your movements falter the more your pleasure builds. Jeongin notices. Of course he does – he notices everything about you. His fingernails dig into where they rest on your hip, surely leaving crescents to discover in the morning, and without breaking rhythm, he takes over setting the pace himself. 

It doesn’t take long with Jeongin fitting perfectly inside you, his fingers circling your clit, his lips heated against yours. Your release washes over you with a cry of his name. He keeps moving you, keeps touching you, to help you ride it out. A few more motions, and he follows, your name falling from his lips. 

A few moments pass. He holds you pressed against his chest as you both catch your breath, Eventually, you move to get off him, but his grip only tightens, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Stay here with me,” he whispers.

He loves all of them, he does. He would gladly find scissors if fate’s string ever tries to pull them apart. Sometimes, though, being around anyone at all frays him in a way that’s unpleasant for everyone, especially himself, only reset back to normal through peace and quiet. 

Peace and quiet could not have come at a better time. He’s more of a grand gesture person when it comes to expressing his emotions. Talking things out inherently requires someone else, listening and remembering and potentially bringing up again. That’s too much. He just needs to identify his jumbled emotions, put a label on them, and neatly pack them away to shove deep into his mind’s junk drawer.  

All of that is without even considering how you fit into everything – which, for the record, Seungmin is always considering how you fit into everything. It’s a mess, but he’s confident he can sort it out in the next hour or so. 

Setting off in the direction of home, he pops in his earbuds (don’t tell his manager), zones out (especially don’t tell his manager), and ruminates on some of the stranger happenings. 

He supposes the best place to begin is the beginning. 

THE JEONGIN SUBVERSION

Hindsight is a bitch, isn’t it? 

Looking back, the too peaceful drive should have been a sign of what was to come. But it was 2:30 in the morning, and Seungmin was barely conscious after Felix – the bastard – yanked his blanket off him while declaring “Get up we’re going to be late!” thirty minutes beforehand.

They were not late. They were the first ones to arrive at the SUVs idling at the curb for them. Seungmin felt entirely justified waiting until Felix made his choice to climb into the opposite car, where he practically melted into a window seat in the back row and would try to catch a few more minutes of rest. 

Shortly after, Chan, Changbin, and Han created the world’s sleepiest single-file line to settle into the remaining seats. Changbin and Han opted for the back row with him. Han draped his legs over Changbin’s lap, let his head fall onto Seungmin’s thigh, muttered “Wakem’upwhenwegetthere,” and promptly fell back asleep, like he was never even awake in the first place. 

Instinctually, Seungmin began carding his hand through Han’s soft hair. He felt an odd sense of pride when Han emitted a satisfied noise and snuggled further into him. 

Chan greeted him with a tired smile and took the seat in front of Seungmin, immediately opening his laptop and getting back to work. His screen glowed brightly in the dim lighting. Seungmin’s willing to bet the oldest does not even register the eye strain anymore, and resolved to hunt down some painkillers during their first break. 

With Chan’s keyboard clacking and Han drooling on his leg, Seungmin should have been more annoyed, but try as he might, he couldn’t muster up that feeling. Mostly, he just felt nearly complete – like the majority, but not all, pieces of himself were finally sliding into place. 

Speaking of. 

You appeared in the open doorway after Chan, looking entirely too composed for the hour. Seungmin wasn’t necessarily surprised to see you – it’s more of a surprise when you’re not around – but he didn’t expect you would come over this early. Another one of his members must have let you sleep on their couch. 

He wasn’t jealous. Even if he was, nobody knew, so it remained fine. 

Your gaze settled over Chan, resolute. Seungmin has been on the receiving end of that look, and he’s not eager for a repeat experience. At least, not in public. You have a particular talent for making him feel like he’s been called to the principal’s office – which, okay, he’s not complaining, but it absolutely does not help his nervous system working overtime around you. 

Chan, seemingly, did not even notice. 

“Move,” you said, determined. 

At that, Chan did glance upwards at you, but only for a second before he returned to his laptop. “Why?” he asked, eyes glued to the screen. 

“I wanna sit by Minnie.” Your eyes flit to Seungmin, who was doing his best to school his expression into neutral. A ghost of a smile haunted your lips, for nobody but him, and Seungmin concentrated hard on being normal about that. She smiles at you every day, get it together. 

“What if I want to be beside Minnie?” Chan mocked the nickname by putting extra emphasis on it, which Seungmin did not appreciate. Seungmin expressed this displeasure via a kick to the back of his seat. 

He resolutely ignored Changbin’s good-natured, “Real mature, Minnie.” 

Luckily, that was the extent of the conversation, mainly because Han shifted on Seungmin’s lap and murmured a distinct threat detailing what would happen if everyone kept making noise. So Chan moved, and you took his place, and the staff member in charge of them drove off before Han had the opportunity to act on his threats. 

They were heading to rehearse choreography. The whole group protested the ass o’clock start time, but it was the only time everyone’s schedules were free at the same time for the next week. As much as it sometimes seemed like it, you were not actually a part of Stray Kids, which meant you could have easily slept in this morning and skipped accompanying them to rehearsal. 

You would definitely fall asleep on them later, but that didn’t matter. Seungmin was glad you chose to stay with them. He hoped you never stopped choosing to stay with them. 

“How’s my third favorite doing?” you whispered while simultaneously reaching back to obnoxiously pinch his cheek. 

“I hate you,” he said, yearning. 

“Yeah, I hate you too. Here, I brought you this,” you reached into your bag and held out his favorite muffin from the good bakery down the street. “It’s a little stale, I got it yesterday. Hope it’s still good?”

Seungmin practically snatched it from your hands. “I don’t hate you anymore,” he said between bites, reveling in your laugh. Crumbs landed in Han’s hair. Seungmin left them. 

Their SUV leisurely drove through familiar streets. The second car carrying everyone else followed closely behind them. Seungmin made the right choice with this one.

His gaze settled on you in front of him. He tried not to; he tried staring at the stars, or trying to peek at Chan’s laptop screen, but he always returned to you. How could he not? Bathed in low light, shadows playing with your features, you were absolutely beautiful.

You weren’t even paying attention to him, and that was perfectly fine with him. He could stare without needing an excuse. 

The ride ended too soon. 

Jeongin, damp hair clinging to the back of his neck, was already storming towards them when they disembarked. 

“Hey!” Jeongin shouted into the chilly night air, and Seungmin – no matter how Chan retells this story – did not yelp like a scared puppy. He yelped like a brave puppy. “Don’t use my towel, asshole!” 

Seungmin only saw it because he was studying for Chan’s reaction – the flicker of genuine exasperation, the gut instinct to snap back that he pushed down for the sake of being a good leader. Still, Chan took several seconds to breathe before turning to face the youngest and saying, “I didn’t use your towel.” 

“Bullshit,” Jeongin said. A small crowd began to form around them – members and staff entering the building dropping their tasks to watch. “I’ve asked you not to before, and my towel was wet this morning. That was my last clean one, man.” 

“Then maybe you should do your own laundry, instead of expecting me to do it for you.” 

“I asked one time! You-” 

“Sorry!” Your voice rang out, interrupting the insult Jeongin surely had poised on his tongue. He startled slightly; he must not have seen you behind Changbin and Han. Easy, you placed yourself between them, facing Jeongin. “I think that was me. Is it blue?” 

Jeongin took a moment to collect himself before shaking his head. “No, red.” Annoyance still laced his voice, but significantly less than ten seconds beforehand. Seungmin definitely did not feel a stab of jealousy that you stayed over with Chan and Jeongin – and, apparently, had enough time to take a shower this morning. 

“Ah, that was me then,” Han piped up beside him. “I’m sorry, I thought it was Chan’s.” 

Seungmin watched Jeongin deflate. “Oh, that’s okay then,” he answered. If Seungmin didn’t know better, he would almost call the youngest’s tone gentle. 

The small number of onlookers began to disperse, exchanging looks with each other, speechlessly regretful they didn’t get to watch a bigger fight. 

Usually, on a normal day, both Jeongin and Chan forget about their one-off outbursts almost as quickly as they begin, provided nobody gets hurt or there isn’t a bigger issue. However, that day, Jeongin was irritated by virtue of not being a morning person and Chan was irritated by virtue of being yelled at before the sun rose. Neither one of them felt like kissing and making up right at that moment. 

“Hey, wait, what the fuck?” Chan’s earlier calmness fractured. 

Seungmin had the same question. How many people showered at their dorm?

Jeongin shrugged. “Honest mistake, it happens.” 

“You were ready to kill me!” 

“You’re exaggerating, it was fine.” Jeongin didn’t give Chan a chance to respond, very purposefully turning on his heels and following the dissipating trail of people into their building. 

Being ignored, of course, only made Chan more upset, not that Jeongin was there to see it. 

Chan’s eyebrows rose in disbelief, and Seungmin decided Jeongin had the right idea getting out of there. Seungmin, as a rule, generally becomes a target for people’s irritation (granted, he causes it most of the time, but still), and he absolutely did not want to stick around for that to happen. 

As he speed walked to the entrance doors, he passed you and Chan. 

You were whispering something to Chan, and he was smiling, goofy, back at you. He pulled you in closer to him, and both of you laughed like you shared a private joke. Seungmin would not have believed Chan was about to forge a warpath if he hadn’t witnessed it firsthand. 

Out of nowhere, Seungmin’s mind conjured up fantasies of what it would be like if Chan smiled at him like that. If Chan held him, shared his body heat in the cold, if Seungmin could just whisper something and melt his leader’s stress. If Chan would lean on him, instead of trying to hold everything together all the time. Sure, they’re close now, but it’s not the same; it’s not the ease he seems to emanate with everyone else. 

It caught him off guard, to say the least. 

He didn’t have time to unpack those thoughts – it probably had something to do with the remnants of sleep tugging him down, anyway. Shoving it out of his mind, he continued to scramble to their practice room before Minho could get onto him for his lateness. 

Rehearsal was tense, in the beginning. Jeongin and Chan still had frigidity, but as the day continued, the ice melted between them. By their second break, they were back to their usual selves; Jeongin annoying Chan, Chan taking every possible opportunity to drape himself over the youngest. 

During that break, Seungmin went searching for you. It had been a while since you excused yourself from watching and slipped out the door. He found you curled up asleep on an out-of-the-way bench, just like he knew you would eventually. Gently, to not disturb you, he took off his hoodie and covered you with it. 

If he took a picture because you looked cute, that’s his business. 

Seungmin shakes his head, doing his best to rid himself of that memory. He’ll come back to that one. On to the next. 

Living with Felix gives him whiplash sometimes.

It could be argued he knows Felix better than anyone. He’s seen him blossom in front of adoring fans, he’s seen him cough into his phone’s speaker to convince management he really is coincidentally sick when The Game Awards streams, he’s seen him cry himself dry after a particularly brash photographer weaseled under his skin. 

Ninety percent of their last decade has been spent together. Words aren’t necessary for routine conversations at this point. Last week, Felix glanced at him for less than a second and knew Seungmin wanted strawberry jam instead of his usual grape. That one still freaks him out a little. 

But every so often, Felix does something that makes him question whether or not he’s been kidnapped and replaced by an evil twin. 

(They went down a conspiracy theory rabbit hole a few nights ago. Felix is convinced Avril Lavigne isn’t real.)

Take, for example:

THE HYUNLIX COLLISION 

There is a certain dignity in failure. Granted, it has negative connotations, but Seungmin would genuinely prefer to first fail than to immediately succeed. 

Failure precedes learning. Failure builds resilience. Failure means growth, not just in the attempt, but as a person. It’s a raw and honest reflection of the human spirit in a way nothing else can attempt. 

Seungmin was blank-staring at his opponent’s fuckass long fatality sequence when their front door burst open. 

Felix was first through the door, but only on a technicality. With Hyunjin pressed up against him, it was nearly impossible to tell where Felix ended and Hyunjin began. Felix’s arms wrapped around Hyunjin’s neck, leaving no other option but to remain flush against each other. 

They were falling all over each other, sloppily making out as much as gravity allowed, both men giggly in the way liquor makes them. 

The last thing Felix said to Seungmin before leaving hours ago was, “Be safe, love you.” He definitely would have remembered a Hey, by the way, I’m gonna need the dorm to myself tonight. And also, Hyunjin and I are hooking up. 

That was probably the wrong thing to focus on, he thought, as Felix let out a particularly needy whine. The two men didn't seem to notice nor care that they are not alone. 

Seungmin sat unnoticed, unmoving, under a rock the size of a large rock. He wanted to say something, don’t get him wrong, but he felt too much like he was teetering on the edge of an endless abyss. One wrong move, or one move at all, and he would freefall forever, never to be seen or heard from again. 

So he remained slack-jawed, staring. 

They were moving as one in the general direction of Felix’s room, however, they kept getting distracted by each other. Hyunjin angled himself to press hasty kisses onto Felix’s jawline. The image of Felix’s flushed cheeks, coupled with his fingers tugging into Hyunjin’s hair, branded itself into Seungmin’s eyelids. Hyunjin’s whispered praises reverberated around his ears. 

Their living room’s temperature rose approximately one thousand degrees. It was batshit insane that Seungmin was the only one who felt it. The entire world could have turned upside down at that moment, and he would not have noticed. 

Then, the world did turn upside down. 

Something — rather, someone — shifted in his peripheral vision. Maybe if he noticed you sooner, he would have been more prepared. Maybe he could have stopped the strangled noise he emitted when he laid eyes on you. 

Maybe, but probably not. 

You had followed Hyunjin and Felix into the room, eyes also trained on the two and a large smile on your lips. However, you also noticed him almost immediately. “Seungminnie!” you exclaimed, a smidge too excitedly to be sober. 

“Uh-h,” Seungmin eloquently stammered. His face was dangerously hot, approaching cause for concern. He was suffocating and overheating and not doing a single thing about it.

Over your shoulder, the two men stopped stumbling through the dorm in favor of Hyunjin subtly palming Felix through his jeans. As subtle as he could, that is, which is to say not subtle in the slightest. Felix’s resulting moan nearly caused him to choke on air. 

Hyunjin finally looked over at Seungmin. “Hey, my love,” he said, and Seungmin suddenly was receiving far too much attention. He wished he could go back to when nobody knew he was there. 

Not one to be outdone, you crossed the room and nearly collapsed into his side. He had to loop one arm around your waist to keep you from overshooting it and ending up facedown in his lap. He was the only one in the room who would have a problem with that, if Felix’s excited gasp and your smile were anything to go by. 

You could definitely feel his racing pulse. Hell, you could probably hear his racing pulse. He was more certain of that than he’s ever been about anything. 

Your perfume stuck to your skin throughout the night, and it invaded Seungmin’s senses. Sickly sweet, mixed with sweat (probably from dancing with someone else, Seungmin’s brain reminded him). It’s so familiar, so you, so unattainable, yet it was the only thing keeping air in his lungs right then. Manually breathing wasn’t far off the table. 

Belatedly, Seungmin realized his game’s home screen music was still playing through their TV speakers. That moment of clarity dissipated when you glanced over your shoulder to Hyunjin and Felix, and somehow shared a silent communication with them.

Seungmin couldn’t read the glint in Hyunjin’s eyes.

You turned your attention back to Seungmin. “We’re gonna go to Lixie’s room,” you started, eyeing him hopefully. Then you leaned in, closer, closer, and Seungmin had never known anything except the warmth of your skin against his or your hair brushing against his cheek. 

“Wanna come?” you purred into his ear, breath ghosting over his earlobe. Goosebumps erupted across his skin. 

whatthefuck whatthefuck whatthefuckwhatthef-

“God, yes,” Felix growled at the same time Hyunjin found amusement in your wording. 

You could ask him to do nearly anything, and he would oblige without question. This, however, felt like a cruel joke. It’s not your fault. He wants the real thing too much. You would know. Hyunjin and Felix would know. Everybody he cares about would know. 

Besides, he was the only one there thinking clearly, and he was positive you would regret touching him like that in the morning. He should not have even let you get as far as you did.

He opened his mouth to tell you as such, but Hyunjin beat him to it. 

“He’s not going to, you know that,” Hyunjin murmured, disconnecting from Felix long enough to talk again. He wasn’t unkind – he was nearly sympathetic, even, which crushed Seungmin further. He said it so casually, so matter-of-fact. Then, because he’s Hyunjin, he followed it up with, “And our boy here’s getting impatient, hm?” 

He paired his words with some caressing, judging by the obscene noise Felix let out. 

“Yeah,” you responded. “Let’s take care of him, yeah?” 

With that, you stood up, leaving Seungmin alone and strangely cold, even as his skin still burned. 

Seungmin didn’t stick around to see what happened once you reached them. He didn’t want to see. He couldn’t see. His imagination would be cruel enough to him. 

As soon as your back was turned, Seungmin took the opportunity to dart off the couch and into the relative safety of the hallway. In reality, the whole scenario probably took no longer than five minutes, but Seungmin felt like he had aged decades by the time his front door closed behind him. 

He wasn’t proud of running away, but he absolutely could not stay in that dorm with the three of you. Part of him regretted not taking you up on your offer. A larger part of him regretted being in the dorm at all. 

His feet carried him to Changbin’s door. 

Changbin, like he always did, opened up immediately and ushered Seungmin inside and onto his couch. Changbin, like he always did, knew when something was bothering Seungmin. He didn’t even need to tell him. 

He didn’t, but he tried anyway. “Hyunjin and Felix–” he started, unsure how to finish. Changbin nodded, encouragement to keep going. “And she–” he cut himself off, not trusting himself to get through this with a straight face. Changbin wouldn’t judge him, he knew, but he still couldn’t. 

“Yeah,” Changbin said softly.  “How are you feeling? With that?” 

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Seungmin murmured. Again, he thought, he was running away, but he’d deal with it later. He’d think about everything later. In that moment, he just needed to exist and be distracted with Changbin. 

That’s exactly what he got. He and Changbin artfully avoided the heaviness lingering around Seungmin, and instead talked about absolutely nothing until Seungmin drifted off to sleep on his couch. 

Seungmin sidesteps a crumpled, discarded bright pink flyer – it reads EVERYONE’S A STAR!  – and grumbles in irritation. He’d asked you about it after that night, but you had made it into a joke every time. Either you’d wink and say he could return the favor, or you’d just extend the same offer again (“But join us this time!” “I don’t drink that much.” “Who said anything about drinking?”). 

He gets it. Now that he’s had time to relive it, he feels either hauntingly inadequate or gnawing jealousy, depending on his mood. 

Why not him? Bitterness. Envy. Towards which person – Felix, Hyunjin, or you – he’s not sure. The obvious answer is he envies both Felix and Hyunjin for sharing a bed with you, but that’s not entirely true. 

He doesn’t wish to replace anyone. He wants to be involved, is all. And he was – you, quite literally, threw yourself at him, and that stings so much worse than anything else. He doesn’t want to be a joke; he wants to be included in a real way, not when everyone involved is simply looking for a good time with the nearest person available. 

God, what a sad thought. 

He needs to move on before he spirals. 

THE MINSUNG CONTROL VARIABLE

Some things would be stranger if they didn’t happen. 

THE CHANGBIN REACTION 

It started out as a surprise for fans. As a surprise to the rest of his group. A love letter, of sorts, for their dedicated, unwavering support, from the early years where odds of success were stacked against them through their sold-out stadium tours. A love letter to his members, who never let him cave into himself and constantly remind him of his worth. 

A love letter to Changbin, specifically. For holding him together. For being a pillar, for loving him extra in his low moments, for being Changbin. 

The official itinerary for their Fanmeeting alloted time for a “Seungmin Solo”. Everyone, including his members, believed he would sing “As We Are” – they were under that impression because Seungmin told them that’s what he would sing. Nobody except himself and the relevant staff knew the truth. In reality, he would be performing “ULTRA” again, complete with a recreation of Changbin’s tour outfit tailored for his own proportions. 

Changbin loved when Seungmin did it last, so why not do it grander this time?

Seungmin made the last-minute decision to bring Changbin on stage with him, to give him a chair and have a camera dedicated to capturing his live reaction. A mistake if he’s ever made one. 

Changbin’s attention on him burned hotter and resonated louder than any screaming fans. He did not speak a word, but he didn’t need to. Every time Seungmin looked over, Changbin was looking back at him, relaxed and all too glad to keep watching. Sometimes he was grinning, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek. Sometimes he leaned forward to study Seungmin closer. Every time, he was cocky, his body language screaming out desires.

Seungmin had not considered Changbin would dial up the fan service. All the more embarrassing that it affected Seungmin more than it should. At a certain point, he had to stop looking over entirely and just focus on getting through his performance without stuttering or tripping over himself. 

Afterwards, he was absolutely positive that the SeungBin shippers had enough fuel for the rest of their lives. More than enough fuel. Wildfires would be envious of the kindling Changbin provided out there. Seungmin could only pray that the sunglasses and stage makeup were enough to hide his reactions. 

Seungmin stared at himself in his dressing room mirror. He had two minutes to ready himself for going back out onstage, and he was absolutely nowhere near close to it.

He was still staring, trancelike, when the door to his left opened and closed. And just like that, there was another, heavy presence. The same one Seungmin couldn’t decide if he should cling to or run far away from. Finally tearing his eyes away, he turned and saw Changbin staring at him, confused. 

“You can’t do that to me,” Changbin said. 

The instinct to push back kicked in, and Seungmin responded, “There’s thousands of fans out there who would disagree.” He didn’t even know what Changbin was saying he couldn’t do. He needed normalcy, and that was the quickest way. 

Changbin chuckles without humor. He took a step towards Seungmin, then another, and another, until he was right in front of him. Inches away. Seungmin could count his eyelashes, could trace the lines on his skin if he wanted to. He could easily lean in, if he wanted to. 

Something flickered across Changbin’s face. Once again, his hyung knew what he needed. Changbin’s voice dipped low, huskier than Seungmin had ever heard it. “God, all this time…” he trailed off, eyes flitting down to Seungmin’s lips. 

Seungmin didn’t want to move. He wanted the two of them to stay right there while the world passed them by. He wanted Changbin to keep talking and to keep looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky. 

Changbin continued, “Chan made me promise, you know? He knew. He knew I’d already fallen for you a long time ago. He knew I would have the hardest time controlling myself.” 

Changbin stared, his eyes drilling into Seungmin. Seungmin had to look away, for fear that Changbin would drill too deep and all of his fantasies would spill out. 

“Hey, no, eyes on me, yeah? There you go.” Changbin’s praise sent a shiver up Seungmin’s spine. “But you don’t want me to control myself, do you?” 

Seungmin wasn’t aware when they started moving. His back hitting the wall behind him came as a complete surprise, but he wasn’t willing to tear his eyes away again. Changbin’s arms caged him in on either side. 

“You want us, yeah?” Changbin asked. 

The door slammed open. 

It was a bucket of ice water dumped all over the moment. 

“Oh! Am I…” Jeongin trailed off, wriggling his eyebrows, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Interrupting something?”

Changbin looked at Seungmin, as if waiting for him to answer. Seungmin was bolted to the ground. Every one of his limbs was frozen.

Was he interrupting something? Does Jeongin know? 

No. There’s nothing to know. Jeongin was just being a menace, as usual. 

Still, Changbin stared at Seungmin, at Seungmin’s lack of a reaction, and that was all the answer he could give. Eventually, after a few seconds or a small eternity, Changbin dropped his hands. “No,” he answered. “You didn’t interrupt anything. Come on, we’ve gotta get back out there.” 

So he did what he was best at. He followed Changbin, and he performed, and he ignored the persistent ache in his chest. 

Seungmin has never been good at keeping up with group texts. Sue him. 

His main source of updates is Chan informing him of schedules about thirty minutes in advance. Seungmin plays along – his yes, I already know, go away expression is truly a work of art – even though they both realize Seungmin would be lost without him. 

That quality is part of what landed him in this mess to begin with. 

That quality is entirely the reason for what he will call 

THE OT8 CLUSTER(FUCK)

He almost walks right past their dorms, too wrapped up in himself to realize the familiar, hulking building that has not once moved nor changed its appearance is, in fact, where he lives. 

He’s out of time with absolutely nothing to show for it. If anything, he’s even more confused, and now he has to face the very people causing this. He doesn’t think he’s ready for it – but he has to be. He can’t exactly hide from his band forever. He could barely hide from them for an hour.  

Briefly, Seungmin considers taking a lap around his usual path. He discards the idea almost as soon as he has it. Their manager probably already warned Chan to be expecting Seungmin, and Chan is probably waiting with a pile of more work for them. Their leader is in one of his moods; he absolutely will not let up until he passes out with exhaustion, unless it’s for something he deems more important. Not a lot of things have ever been more important. 

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he pulls open the entrance door, waves to their security guard, and gets in the elevator. 

Whatever happens, he’ll be along for it. During their trainee days, when they weren’t sure if the outcome would be worth their effort and each day was harder than the last, Chan used to tell them the only way out is through. He said it so often, Seungmin and Jeongin would place over/under bets concerning how many times they would hear it any given week.

So, the only way out is through. If only trainee Seungmin knew where he’d end up. 

If that means he keeps hurting, so be it. It’ll be worth it to stay around. 

The elevator dings. The doors open, and his hallway sprawls unending in front of him. Starting towards his dorm, he begins to think up excuses to dodge Chan’s near-certain extra work. All he wants is a long, hot shower and to sleep forever (he’s not being dramatic, no.) 

Faking sickness or an injury won’t work – everyone saw him right before he started walking home. They also have access to his schedule, so he can’t claim he has something else to go to. Well. That leaves him out of options. 

Chan’s dorm is closer to the elevator than his. He’ll pop in, get an idea of what’s up next today, then sneak out again to take a shower. 

Simple. 

Easy. 

As he approaches Chan’s door, he tells himself work will probably actually be good for him. He’s good at what he does and he enjoys doing it, he really couldn’t ask for anything better. So what if things get complicated every now and then? 

Reaching for the door handle, he’s almost glad to know what he’s about to walk into. He’ll be productive. It’ll serve as a nice distraction. Besides, he thinks he hears the others inside – he won’t be alone with his thoughts any longer. 

He’s made as much peace with the rest of his day as he possibly could by the time he swings the door open. 

Seungmin yelps. Like a scared puppy. 

The eight of you spring into action, but it’s far too late. Han bolts to hide behind a pillow. You rush to throw on the nearest shirt. It’s the last thing Seungmin sees before slamming the door closed again. 

A cacophony of noise resounds from behind that same door, but it’s drowned out by the buzzing in his own head. Reality crashes into him all at once. The force of it staggers him backwards, and his back hits the drywall behind him with a thud. He leans against the wall all the way to the carpeted floor. 

He should have realized sooner. 

The whole time, everything was right in front him. Jeongin flipped like a switch for you and Han. Hyunjin and Felix could not have been more obvious if they tried. Changbin might as well have outright confessed. What’s so wrong with him that he couldn’t see it?

What’s so wrong with him they didn’t want him? 

Seungmin stares at the ceiling as if it will provide answers. Their perpetually-dead lightbulb is now on. It’s been burned out ever since they moved in, years ago. He wonders who fixed it, and when it got replaced. He wonders when everyone started– nope. He’s not thinking about that right now. 

He’s aware he’s flailing – however, being aware and stopping are two completely separate things. He’ll get up off the ground when he’s more stable, but until then, he’ll sit in denial. 

He’ll leave them alone, like he’s been doing, without him. 

At some point, Chan’s door opened again. Seungmin steeled himself for the inevitable, but Chan was quiet when he joined him in the hallway and sat opposite him. Both of their legs stretched out in front of them, as mirror images of one another. Chan sat there as if this was a normal day. Not rushing, not putting pressure on him. Just existing with him. 

Every so often, Chan brushes his leg against Seungmin’s, but makes no mention of it. They stay in the same position for a few more minutes, which gives Seungmin time to slow his mind a miniscule amount. 

He’s panicked before. Twice, he’s done this exact thing, and he keeps kicking himself for his inability to say anything. That’s not going to happen. He’s going to speak this time, and he knows this situation requires tact and grace, and he will not mess this up again. 

He simply can’t help that he’s a bit dumb right now. 

“You’re wearing pants,” he says. 

Chan, for what it’s worth, is not jarred by Seungmin pointing out the obvious. “Yeah, I am,” he responds. 

“That’s new.” 

“Listen,” Chan says with a grimace. “I’m sorry you saw that. Felix was supposed to let you know to hang out at your place for a bit.” He does seem genuinely regretful Seungmin walked in. 

Seungmin pulls out his phone, and sure enough, Felix did text him ten minutes ago. The notification sits at the top of his screen. “Oh, now he texts me,” he mutters. 

“What? Did he just text you?” 

“No – it doesn’t matter.” Seungmin puts his phone back in his pocket and braces his palms against the ground. “I’ll get out of your way, I don’t think you guys want me around right now anyways.”

He’s met with complete silence. He stops himself from standing and looks up at Chan. His leader’s expression is beside himself, stricken and confused. 

“Is that what you think? That we don’t want you around?” Chan nearly whispers. Seungmin had to strain to even hear it. Chan continues, his voice faintly rising. “We thought you were still getting comfortable with us. We were – shit – we were giving you your space. Of course they like you, Min.”  

“You - huh?” 

“I mean, I know she, Jinnie, and Felix slipped up, they told me about that. But did you actually think we didn’t want to be with you too?” He sounds desperate now, hoping Seungmin will give him any other answer than the one he already heard. 

Seungmin can’t. 

They want him. 

They want him in the same way he wants them. In the same way he’s spent all this time pining after each one, so convinced it would never happen for him. Forcing himself to accept the painful closeness, because at least it was better than being apart. 

“Seungmin.” Chan’s voice brings him back. 

“Hm?”

“Do you want to go inside?” Chan must have seen Seungmin’s hesitancy written on his face, as he adds, “I made them put on clothes, I promise. They’d just like to see you, if you’re okay with that.”  

Seungmin nods, and Chan rewards him with another smile. It’s the same smile he showed you, all those nights ago. 

This time, the scene on the other side of the door is drastically different. For one, Chan was right, everyone is wearing clothes. Seungmin allows himself to feel disappointed about that, because he can and because you want him. 

For another, a multi-sided war is about to break out, localized entirely within Chan and Jeongin’s living room. 

Minho sits on the floor with his arms around Han, who’s animatedly talking and gesturing to Changbin and Hyunjin on opposite sides of their couch. He’s going at the speed of light, but Seungmin definitely hears his name and drove him away. 

You, Felix, and Jeongin aren’t faring too much better, exchanging hushed words in the relative privacy of Jeongin’s doorway. 

Chan clears his throat. Everything stops. 

Every head turns, as if on a synchronized swivel, to stare at Seungmin. Seungmin is eerily reminded of walking in late to his school classrooms. 

Han is the one to break the silence. “Do you… You’re here,” he says, wide-eyed.

“I’m here,” Seungmin confirms. 

“To stay?” Han brings his hand up to clutch Minho’s. He does it slowly, like any sudden movements will scare away Seungmin. Not a bad move, all things considered. 

His eyes find yours across the crowded room. You’re watching him intently, nervous but trying to hide it. He could recognize your specific behavior anywhere. “To stay,” he confirms again. 

“I need to hear you actually say it,” Hyunjin speaks up. “You’re staying with us, like, romantically? Ow! Why?” he groaned in response to Jeongin lightly pushing him. 

“He got the romantically part,” Jeongin whispers, loud enough for everyone to distinctly hear him. 

“He obviously didn’t!” Hyunjin protests. 

Felix, luckily, takes over before they can devolve further. “What they’re trying to say–” Felix shoots a pointed look over at them, “–is that we want to be as clear as possible in telling you that we would love to have you join this with us. Obviously, we’d go as fast or as slow as you’re comfortable with.” 

“And you’re sure?” Seungmin questions, about all of it. His heart never calmed down, but now it stands still and frozen, whether it will keep beating entirely contingent on the answer. 

Minho barks a disbelieving laugh. 

“Are we sure?” Changbin repeats, looking at him as if he said something stupid. “Yes. One-thousand percent sure. We’ve had conversations about how sure we are.” 

One by one, each of you echo Changbin’s sentiments, confirming Seungmin’s long-since buried hopes in various ways. It will take a while for Seungmin to get used to the pure relief floating him through air. He feels weightless. There’s nothing to hide anymore. 

He takes a deep breath. “Then yes, I want to be part of.. whatever this is. Please.” There was probably a better, more eloquent way to phrase it, but Seungmin doesn’t care. He doesn’t think anyone else does either. 

The dam breaks. 

Seungmin hardly gets any warning at all, just a blur of movement, before Han crashes into him, sending him stumbling backwards and directly into Chan’s chest. He’s completely engulfed in seconds. With Han wrapping himself around his chest and Chan at his back, it’s hard to find any more space, but as always, everyone finds a way. 

“Aww, Minnie, you love us!” Jeongin’s teasing lilt rings out above everything else, his own smile taking up half his face. 

Seungmin is unable to contain his matching grin, but he doesn’t let that stop him from rolling his eyes and muttering, “Shut up, I hate all of you.” 

Everything about him immediately betrays that lie. 

Before, he would have either pushed them away or slipped out, armed with an excuse to protect himself. He would have ignored it as best he could, and would have only allowed himself to feel the extent of his hurt once he was truly alone. 

Now, Seungmin chooses to believe that he is desired just as much as he desires, if not more. That his strongest fantasies are real, and the reality far outweighs even the best ones. He will need time to fully convince himself of that, but he finally has unrestrained time with the people he loves. He accepts your love with open arms. 

weeks later, seungmin gets home from a long walk to find everyone in a ludicrously gigantic cuddle pile. changbin and minho are both holding controllers. changbin looks overjoyed. minho, less so. mileena’s fuckass long fatality sequence is playing on screen. 

☆ note: it's published!! this specific draft has been driving me absolute bananas for longer than i'd like to admit. every time i tried (and i did try) to abandon it i'd hear it calling to me like the green goblin mask. as always, ty for reading, love you <3

everyone say thank you @pixie-felix for getting me to lock in and finish this 💗