Unbetitelt

Jisung should’ve known the moment he walked through the dorm door that he was dead. Basically a pig for slaughter.

Because seven pairs of eyes snapped toward him the second he stepped inside, and all of them carried that same expression...that mixture of betrayal, amusement, and giddy anticipation. And maybe, maybe, he could have run if he hadn’t frozen right there like a deer in headlights.

Too late.

“Take. Your. Shirt. Off.” Chan said, arms crossed, voice thick with the kind of sweetness that meant danger.

Jisung clutched his hoodie like a shield. “…Why?” He glanced between all the members.

“Because,” Minho said, stepping forward with that slow predatory walk, “Like an idiot, you got more tattoos.”

“I didn’t— well I did—” His words tangled together as Changbin grabbed him by the back of the hoodie and physically hauled him toward the couch.

They didn’t even pretend to fight fair. His wrists were tied above his head and attached to the damn support column behind the couch, stretching him out just enough that his ribs and stomach were vulnerable. His hoodie was peeled off and discarded. His undershirt was pushed up to his armpits. Every inch of his torso was exposed, including—

Those tattoos.

Seven of them now, all littered across his torso. His sides and ribs and tummy covered in the gorgeous red ink.

Seven lip prints. Seven members, their names curling around the lower lip with their own handwriting. Seven crisp, perfectly inked tattoos placed in the worst, most sensitive spots on his body.

“Oh my god,” Jeongin whispered, pressing a hand to his chest like he was witnessing something profoundly stupid. “Hyung, what is wrong with you?”

Jisung squeaked and tugged his shirt back down. “I thought they were cute!”

“They are,” Felix said, eyes shining with genuine awe. “They’re, like… the cutest things ever. You got our lip prints? Our names?”

Chan brushed his thumb over the lip print labeled “Channie,” eyes warm despite the wicked smile tugging at his lips.

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏 ☀︎☁︎

“God, Sungie… you really tattooed my mouth onto your ribs,” he murmured. “That’s so stupidly cute.”

Jisung’s face flushed. “It—looks good—??”

Chan leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to it. “Yes, baby. It does. Which is why we’re starting with me.”

He took a breath.

And blew the deepest raspberry right onto the tattoo. He blew, long and slow, vibrating every nerve in Jisung’s torso.

Jisung let out an honest-to-god squawk, back arching helplessly. His head flew back and the laughter poured.

Chan held him down with one arm while his free hand clawed wickedly into Jisung’s trembling side. Nails dragging. Palm squeezing. Fingers digging into every spot he knew would break him.

“You can’t get matching ink without telling us...” Chan said between raspberries, voice bouncing with mischief. “You know better.”

“IHIHIHIHI DIHIHIDN’T THIHIHINK IT WOULD MAHHAHATTER!!” Jisung wailed, bucking in every direction.

"You're gonna apologize to each and every one of us. For getting these without telling us. And for being so fucking cute." Chan ended, his hands still wiggling over those shaky sides. "So?"

"Ihihihi'm sohohohohhorryy!!" Jisung squeaked, wiggling a little at the sight of those hands. "Really!!" He added when Chan teasingly dipped closer.

"That's right."

𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒐 ☀︎☁︎

Minho climbed onto the couch with all the casual menace of a cat deciding to sit on your laptop. He rested two fingers on his lip print — right on Jisung’s lower ribs — and tapped it twice.

“Explain,” he said simply.

"I thought it was cute, okay?!" Jisung squeaked, trying to squirm away from those wickedly ticklish fingers. "I lihike you guys a lot!! So I got them..." He averted his eyes shyly.

“It is cute,” Minho said, leaning down. “That’s the problem.” He blew a sharp, violent raspberry that made Jisung shriek.

"WAHAHAHAHAITT!! WAHAHAAHAIT HYUNG MEHEHEHERCY!!"

“Ohhh, this is a good spot,” Minho purred, tracing the tattoo with one finger. Jisung arched, hiccuping on his own laughter when Minho’s nail slid just under the spot. Wiggling right against that rib.

“STOP TRACING IT— IHIHIHI CAHAHAHAN’T!!”

Minho traced the outline of the lip print with three fingers. Jisung dissolved. His laughter went high-pitched, breathless, almost silent.

“That’s the point.”

Minho nuzzled into the tattoo, nibbling, sending sparks all over Jisung’s skin before blowing three rapid-fire raspberries in a row.

Jisung lost it, thrashing so hard the couch squeaked.

“IHIHIHIHI’M SAHAHAHARRYYYY MINHO HYUNG I’M SOHOHOHORRRYYY!!!”

Minho kissed the tattoo sweetly. “Much better.”

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒃𝒊𝒏 ☀︎☁︎

Changbin took one look at his lip print — stamped on Jisung’s side — and actually put a hand over his heart. “You little idiot,” He said gently. “This is so adorable.”

Jisung blinked hopefully. “Soooo you’re not gonna—?”

Changbin cracked his knuckles. “Of course I’m gonna.” He chuckled heartily, leaning down to get a better angle.

“NOHOHOHO!!”

Changbin grabbed him firmly around the waist and blew a raspberry so explosive Jisung’s legs almost broke the restraints.

“BIIIIHIHIHIHNNNNNN!!”

“Aw, you’re already screaming? And I didn’t even use my hands yet~” He wrapped both big hands around Jisung’s sides and squeezed — fast, strong, merciless bursts that sent him hurtling into silent laughter.

“NOHOHOHAHA—IHIHIHI CAHAHAH—BINNNN PLEASEEE!!”

Changbin poked him right under the tattoo. “Say it.”

“IHIHIHI’M SOSOSOSOSO SORRY!! CHANGBIN HYUNG I’M SOHOHHOORYYY—!” He squealed and that was when Bin finally let up.

"Good."

𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒋𝒊𝒏 ☀︎☁︎

Hyunjin stepped forward, eyes sparkling with mischief…and affection. He traced his lip print—sitting low on Jisung’s tummy near his hipbone —with delicate fingertips.

“You put mine somewhere so cute~” he whispered. “You’re gonna die.”

Jisung burst into pleading instantly. “Hyune—Jinnie PLEASE!!”

Hyunjin blew a raspberry so brutal Jisung screamed like a kettle. “HYUUUUUHUHUNGG!!! OHMYFUCKINGGOD—PLEASE!!”

Hyunjin laughed breathlessly. “You’re so, so ticklish here. It’s adorable.”

Hyunjin danced his nails around the tattoo, slow, deliberate spirals that made Jisung’s tummy jump with each pass.

“When you got this done,” Hyunjin murmured, blowing another raspberry, “did you think about how ticklish it’d be? Or was your brain just empty and full of love?”

He used his long fingers to scribble tiny, devastating circles around the tattoo. Up the edge of Jisung’s tummy. Over the hipbone. Right back into the tattoo. Jisung was shaking violently, tears streaming.

“IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAN’T—HYUNE PLEASE—I’M SOHOHORRY!!”

"Good boy." Hyunjin laughed. "Get him, Lix."

𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒙 ☀︎☁︎

Felix slid onto the floor and rested his chin on the couch cushion near Jisung’s chest, hands warm on his stomach.

He looked up with the softest eyes in the world.

“You got my lips right under your sternum…?? Hyung… that’s so sweet I could cry.” He pouted, eyes all sparkly.

He peppered the spot with kisses softly. But his hands?? They weren't as nice.

His thumbs rubbed rough, teasing circles on Jisung’s lower sides while his mouth attacked the tattoo without mercy. Jisung kicked frantically, his head sinking back with laughter so frantic it sounded musical.

“Stop laughing so cute,” Felix teased. “It makes me wanna keep going.” He blew another one, higher-pitched this time, then peppered tiny raspberry-kisses all around the tattoo until Jisung was kicking helplessly against the restraints.

“IHIHIHIHI’M NOHOT CUTE!!”

"That's such a lie. You should apologize twice for that."

"IM SOHOHOHO SOHOHOHORRY!! SO SOHOHOHORRYYY!!" Sung howled in response.

"Eh, I'll grant you mercy. Mainly 'cause Seung won't give you any." Lixie smirked.

𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒎𝒊𝒏 ☀︎☁︎

Jisung was already a limp, giggly mess by the time Seungmin stepped forward. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his cheeks were flushed pink, and every time someone shifted beside him, he flinched like another tickle was coming.

Seungmin crouched beside him with a smug little smirk, eyeing his lip print on the ribcage like it was his personal property. “You seriously put mine here?” he said. “You’re insane. You put it right on your lower ribs. These are the spots that make you go stupid, aren’t they?”

“IHIHIHIHI LIHIHIKED THE DESIGN!!”

“Mmhm~"

Jisung’s face burst red. “Seungminnie, c’mon, I’m alr— I’m already dying, please!!”

Seungmin hooked one finger under Jisung’s rib and wiggled it cruelly.

“SEUNGMIIHIHIHIHI— STOHOHOHOP— NOT THAT—”

“That’s exactly why I’m doing it.”

He kissed the tattoo once, then started poking up the ribcage in perfect rhythm with Jisung’s breathing — catching every inhale, every gasp.

And then he vibrated his thumbs deep into the muscle right beneath Jisung’s ribs while blowing another long, drawn-out raspberry right onto his tattoo.

Jisung lost everything. His voice, his breath, his mind — gone. He writhed helplessly, laughter bursting out of him in raw, desperate screams.

“FUUHUHUHUHUUUCKK!! SEHUHUHUHUNGMIHIHIHIIN!! WAHAHAIT WAHAIT WAHAIT—I’M SOHOHOHOHOOH SORRYYY!!”

It wasn’t until Jisung’s eyes went glossy, laughter fading into exhausted little hiccups between giggles, that Seungmin finally stopped. He brushed gentle thumbs over the tattoo, soothing the overstimulated skin.

“There you go,” He whispered, letting his voice soften for the first time. “Good job, hyung.”

𝒋𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏 ☀︎☁︎

Jeongin pokes the tattoo. Just one sharp, curious poke.

Jisung yips like a startled puppy, then slams his eyes shut as if that would somehow protect him.

“Oh, this is going to be incredible.” Jeongin whispers reverently, studying the tattoo like it’s a holy relic. “Wait— look how cute it is. You even got the little smudge in the corner… awhh. You’re so soft for us.”

Jisung lets out a broken whine. “Jeongin…please…don’t…!”

“Awhhh, hyung,” The maknae cooed. “If you didn’t want me to tickle you, you should’ve put this tattoo somewhere less easy to destroy you.”

And then he bends down, lips pressing to his own tattoo.

The moment he blows the first raspberry, Jisung detonates.

“JEHEHEHEHEONGHIHIHIHIN—!!”

It’s a wild, sharp, panicked laugh — the kind that jumps straight from his lungs without warning, all raw edges and frantic pitches. Jeongin beams like he’s just discovered fire.

“Wow! You got loud so fast!”

“NOHOHOHOHOHO—NOT THAHAHAHAAT—IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAN’T!!”

“You barely survived five seconds,” Jeongin scoffs, brushing hair from his forehead just to tickle behind his ear with a teasing fingertip. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“IHIHIHIHIHI’M SOHOHOHOHORRY!! IHIHIHIHI’M SAHAHAHARRYY IHIHINNIEEEE!!”

“Oh?” Jeongin pauses, lips hovering over the tattoo. “Say it again. But nicely.”

“JEHOHOHOHONGIN I’M SOHOHOHOHOOH SORRY—PLEHEHEASE—STOHOHOP!!”

It feels almost loving, how he cupped Jisung’s ribcage… Almost tender, how he breathed against the ink… Almost sweet, the way he kissed the exact shape of his lips on Jisung’s skin.

Jeongin finally pulls back, panting slightly, cheeks puffed from how intense that last one was.

He pats the tattoo affectionately.

“I forgive you,” He announced brightly. “You suffered beautifully.”

Jisung is trembling. Half-laughing, half-whimpering, his voice shredded, his chest heaving up and down.

By the time they finished, Jisung was a trembling mess — eyes swollen from laughing, cheeks flushed, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.

He hiccupped weakly, still giggling through aftershocks.

Chan untied his wrists with gentle hands. “You okay, baby?”

Jisung nodded rapidly. Then shook his head. Then nodded again. “I swehehehear I'hihihim nehehehver getting an impromptu tattoo again.”

Jokes on them, he was already planning the next one.

Don’t tell anyone, but Fam had to be one of Chan’s favorite songs.

Sue him– he loved his kids too much. I mean, an entire song where they sang about loving each other like a family and spent time complimenting each member? Nothing could be better.

The issue was that Chan was included in said compliments.

The band was running through how they’d perform the song on their upcoming tour, which, in itself, was not a difficult task. There was no dancing really involved, so they were mostly just running through it to make sure everyone knew when they had to sing. Chan was having the time of his life chasing his beloved kids around the practice room and dragging them to the center to compliment them until they were red in the face.

It was Lino’s turn, Chan cooing obnoxiously in his ear as Changbin rapped about how handsome the dancer was. The leader was too engrossed in watching his bandmate’s ears turn pink that he had completely forgotten who came after the cat.

“A sense of responsibility is his second nature,” Minho had broken free of his hold and had now turned around to face him, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “No wonder he’s the leader.”

Chan groaned dramatically, already feeling flustered at the attention, his embarrassment increasing tenfold when the rest of the band started crowding around him. They were laughing and chanting along with the older dancer, pinching Chan’s cheeks and ruffling his hair. It’s fine. He could live through a little blushing if it entertained the kids. He started laughing with them despite himself, even giving a little hop when the song called him a kangaroo. However, it had quickly moved on to complimenting his body.

Felix went for the bottom of his shirt, trying to tug the material up as Lino sang about his “washboard abs”. Chan squeaked, tugging the shirt back down, laughing as he shook his head. “No no no– that’s enough for my part.”

“Aw! Hyung!” Jisung whined, a wide smile stretched across his face. “We can’t just sing about your abs and then not show them!”

“You most certainly can.” Chan insisted, trying to mentally will away the bright blush on his cheeks. It was bad enough that he had to be drowned in compliments. He didn’t need the members to fawn over his stomach as well.

“I think Channie hyung needs to be reminded of our love, hm?” Minho purred, looking delighted by the turn of events.

Chan couldn’t have stopped them with the full force of an armed calvary.

Hyunjin came up behind him, hooking his arms around the leader’s and tugging them back to hold them in place. With the obstacle now removed, the kids were delighted to descend upon him.

Felix gleefully tugged the shirt up once more, playfully clawing at the older’s stomach. “You really do have washboard abs. Why are you trying to hide them?”

“So strong, hyungie.” Changbin teased, reaching over Felix’s shoulder to join in on the playful touches, tracing over every contour of the leader’s muscle. Chan immediately fell into loud laughter, shaking his head as he tried to free himself, but Hyunjin held fast. Damn him for working out more these days.

“Hyunjinnie, could you pull his arms back a little more?” Lino asked sweetly, his smile only growing when Chan tried to weakly protest. Hyunjin obliged immediately, tugging the leader’s arms further back, giving the mischievous cat full access to his sides. “Hiding all this from your bandmates? How selfish.” The dancer teased, squeezing up and down the leader’s ribs.

“Scooch over!” Jisung whined, intent on getting his hands on the poor giggling producer. As soon as he could reach, the young rapper honed in on the older’s hips, wiggling his thumbs into the hollows with a bright smile. “You’re so red, hyung.”

“Like a tomato.” Seungmin agreed, lazily dragging his nail around Chan’s belly button, making the leader squeak and flush a shade darker.

“How’s it feel to be on the receiving end, hyung?” Jeongin cooed teasingly, thoroughly enjoying getting revenge on the man who constantly doted on him. The maknae had decided to busy himself with feathering his fingers on Chan’s cheeks, having had his own cheeks often pinched when they babied him, and laughed every time it made the older’s laughter turn squeaky.

Chan couldn’t stand it– in a good way.

He was the oldest; supposed to be a strong, reliable leader for his boys. Being reduced to such a giggling, blushing mess was mortifying. However…he couldn’t deny how happy it made him, just to have all the people he loved most showering him with attention and playful teases. He was conflicted on what to do– on one hand, bonding with the members so closely in the busy days like this was always a gift. On the other hand, he was about to die from embarrassment and he had a boisterous laugh– someone was sure to hear him if they walked by the practice room.

His body made the decision for him.

Chan’s knees buckled, sagging in Hyunjin’s arms as he gasped, trying to breathe through the giggles. The members took pity on him, removing their hands to allow the leader to gather himself as Hyunjin gently lowered him to the floor. Apparently, that was an invitation for cuddles, because they piled on top of him as soon as it was clear that he could breathe once more.

“You g-guys are…ridiculous.” Chan wheezed, sporting a huge goofy smile on his face.

“You love us.” Minho hummed, adjusting himself to be more comfortable in his position sprawled on top of Jisung. It wasn’t a question.

Don’t tell anyone, but Fam had to be one of Chan’s favorite songs.

Sue him– he loved his kids too much. I mean, an entire song where they sang about loving each other like a family and spent time complimenting each member? Nothing could be better.

The issue was that Chan was included in said compliments.

The band was running through how they’d perform the song on their upcoming tour, which, in itself, was not a difficult task. There was no dancing really involved, so they were mostly just running through it to make sure everyone knew when they had to sing. Chan was having the time of his life chasing his beloved kids around the practice room and dragging them to the center to compliment them until they were red in the face.

It was Lino’s turn, Chan cooing obnoxiously in his ear as Changbin rapped about how handsome the dancer was. The leader was too engrossed in watching his bandmate’s ears turn pink that he had completely forgotten who came after the cat.

“A sense of responsibility is his second nature,” Minho had broken free of his hold and had now turned around to face him, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “No wonder he’s the leader.”

Chan groaned dramatically, already feeling flustered at the attention, his embarrassment increasing tenfold when the rest of the band started crowding around him. They were laughing and chanting along with the older dancer, pinching Chan’s cheeks and ruffling his hair. It’s fine. He could live through a little blushing if it entertained the kids. He started laughing with them despite himself, even giving a little hop when the song called him a kangaroo. However, it had quickly moved on to complimenting his body.

Felix went for the bottom of his shirt, trying to tug the material up as Lino sang about his “washboard abs”. Chan squeaked, tugging the shirt back down, laughing as he shook his head. “No no no– that’s enough for my part.”

“Aw! Hyung!” Jisung whined, a wide smile stretched across his face. “We can’t just sing about your abs and then not show them!”

“You most certainly can.” Chan insisted, trying to mentally will away the bright blush on his cheeks. It was bad enough that he had to be drowned in compliments. He didn’t need the members to fawn over his stomach as well.

“I think Channie hyung needs to be reminded of our love, hm?” Minho purred, looking delighted by the turn of events.

Chan couldn’t have stopped them with the full force of an armed calvary.

Hyunjin came up behind him, hooking his arms around the leader’s and tugging them back to hold them in place. With the obstacle now removed, the kids were delighted to descend upon him.

Felix gleefully tugged the shirt up once more, playfully clawing at the older’s stomach. “You really do have washboard abs. Why are you trying to hide them?”

“So strong, hyungie.” Changbin teased, reaching over Felix’s shoulder to join in on the playful touches, tracing over every contour of the leader’s muscle. Chan immediately fell into loud laughter, shaking his head as he tried to free himself, but Hyunjin held fast. Damn him for working out more these days.

“Hyunjinnie, could you pull his arms back a little more?” Lino asked sweetly, his smile only growing when Chan tried to weakly protest. Hyunjin obliged immediately, tugging the leader’s arms further back, giving the mischievous cat full access to his sides. “Hiding all this from your bandmates? How selfish.” The dancer teased, squeezing up and down the leader’s ribs.

“Scooch over!” Jisung whined, intent on getting his hands on the poor giggling producer. As soon as he could reach, the young rapper honed in on the older’s hips, wiggling his thumbs into the hollows with a bright smile. “You’re so red, hyung.”

“Like a tomato.” Seungmin agreed, lazily dragging his nail around Chan’s belly button, making the leader squeak and flush a shade darker.

“How’s it feel to be on the receiving end, hyung?” Jeongin cooed teasingly, thoroughly enjoying getting revenge on the man who constantly doted on him. The maknae had decided to busy himself with feathering his fingers on Chan’s cheeks, having had his own cheeks often pinched when they babied him, and laughed every time it made the older’s laughter turn squeaky.

Chan couldn’t stand it– in a good way.

He was the oldest; supposed to be a strong, reliable leader for his boys. Being reduced to such a giggling, blushing mess was mortifying. However…he couldn’t deny how happy it made him, just to have all the people he loved most showering him with attention and playful teases. He was conflicted on what to do– on one hand, bonding with the members so closely in the busy days like this was always a gift. On the other hand, he was about to die from embarrassment and he had a boisterous laugh– someone was sure to hear him if they walked by the practice room.

His body made the decision for him.

Chan’s knees buckled, sagging in Hyunjin’s arms as he gasped, trying to breathe through the giggles. The members took pity on him, removing their hands to allow the leader to gather himself as Hyunjin gently lowered him to the floor. Apparently, that was an invitation for cuddles, because they piled on top of him as soon as it was clear that he could breathe once more.

“You g-guys are…ridiculous.” Chan wheezed, sporting a huge goofy smile on his face.

“You love us.” Minho hummed, adjusting himself to be more comfortable in his position sprawled on top of Jisung. It wasn’t a question.

Seungmin tried not to let things get to him.

But once you notice, you can’t un notice.

He had been mindlessly scrolling on twitter, enjoying seeing everyone’s reactions to the new teaser images, when he came across a thread about analyzing the relationships between him and the members. Usually, he would’ve rolled his eyes and scrolled, but their description of his and Chan’s relationship was scary accurate. Curious, he clicked on the thread and kept reading.

Minnie and Lino: Bicker a lot, essentially the same person, don’t show affection to each other a lot. Tbh I kinda get the vibe that Lino doesn’t really like Minnie and they kinda just coexist. Gives an explanation as to why they don’t act like the others with each other.

It was just baseless speculation, but…they were right, weren’t they? Seungmin and Minho always had a different relationship. The vocalist had always enjoyed his dynamic with the dancer, but had he been misreading the situation? Did the older really not like him?

Unable to get the thoughts out of his head, Seungmin found himself wandering to his bandmate’s room. He gave a light knock, opening the door after hearing a vague sound of invitation from within. Minho was sprawled out across his bed, scrolling on his phone, not sparing a glance up.

“What do you want, stinky?”

Usually, Seungmin would’ve easily taken the bait. He would’ve shot back something like “nothing, ugly”, and jumped on top of him. However, he was just…stuck. Hovering by the door, his expression tight, studying every mannerism of the older to try and gauge if he was joking or if he was simply open with his hatred.

“Look, if you just came here to stand in the doorway, I suggest you go bother someone e–” Minho started, finally glancing over at the intruder with an eyeroll, but the words died in his throat as he saw the younger’s expression. He looked scared.

The dancer sat up, confused, but he wordlessly opened his arms in invitation. Seungmin’s tight shoulders relaxed just a fraction, and he hesitated for a brief moment before crashing into his hyung’s arms. Lino grunted, adjusting the vocalist to situate in his lap, holding him close.

“What’s wrong, pup?” Minho prompted, his voice soft. Stupid as it was, the teasing nickname made Seungmin feel better. He took a deep breath, trying to make himself as small as possible in the dancer’s lap.

“Do you…you like me, right, hyung…? B-be honest.” Seungmin squeezed his eyes shut, hating the shake in his voice. He’s an adult for fuck’s sake. At minimum, all the bandmates were just coworkers. He should be able to handle not being liked as much as someone else.

The dancer’s eyes widened, baffled that Seungmin could ask such a thing. He tsked, tightening his arms around his companion, gently rocking them side to side. “Of course I do, silly. You’re family; just like everyone else.”

Family.

It all felt so idiotic now.

“‘M sorry, hyung.” Seungmin murmured, feeling shame burn through him at letting random media control his thoughts. “I just–...I saw a thread where people mentioned how our dynamic is different and it just got me spiraling. We don’t do the cutesy cuddly things like the other members do.”

“Do you want to do cutesy cuddly things?” The older prompted, raising an eyebrow. The vocalist took a moment to think about it, wrinkling his nose.

“Not all the time.” Seungmin decided, readjusting himself in Lino’s lap. “I like what we have. But…maybe occasionally.”

“Like…right now?” Minho asked, bringing a hand up to gently card through Seungmin’s hair. He sighed, leaning into the hand as he relaxed, nodding. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, just soaking in each other’s presence, before the older spoke again. “Do you wanna do something stupid and sappy that I do with Jisungie?”

Seungmin debated for a moment, already feeling his ears redden at the thought, but he found himself nodding again. Lino beamed, pleased, and gently coaxed Seungmin to lay back so he was stretched horizontally across the dancer’s lap.

“I feel like a lizard.” Seungmin commented helpfully, trying to push back his anxieties. Minho laughed, shaking his head fondly, then proceeded to place his hand square on the younger’s stomach. The vocalist tensed, shooting his companion a look, but all he got in return was a warm smile.

“Trust me.”

Seungmin waited a moment, debating, then he nodded, looking up at the ceiling. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the hand started to move. Fingers gently digging into the muscle of his stomach, working their way towards his sides.

Oh.

Oh.

He was now regretting giving the cat an ounce of faith.

He huffed out a breath, putting his hands over the older’s as he tried to curl in on himself, his cheeks flushing pink. “Hyung–”

“Relax, Mong-mong.” The dancer teased gently, his expression soft. “Just enjoy it.”

Seungmin made a face at him, wanting to preserve just a smidge of dignity, but Lino just raised an eyebrow in response. Slowly, the younger dropped his hands, laying back down, his cheeks burning. The cat let out a pleased hum, his hand resuming the journey across his torso.

“You’re so stiff.” He tsked playfully, grinning. “Just relax. I’m gonna tickle you, not bite you.”

Seungmin snorted, rolling his eyes as he tried his best to remain composed. “Knowing you, that’s not entirely–” He squeaked, jolting as the dancer tweaked his hip. There was a pause, the air tense as they locked eyes, then Lino dug in.

He honed his focus on the hip, wiggling his thumb into the crevice of the bone, the other hand pinching up and down Seungmin’s ribs. “Oh? What do we have here?”

“Hyuhuhung!” The vocalist whined, internally cursing as stupid, bubbly giggles began falling from his mouth. Lino beamed triumphantly, now tugging up the younger’s shirt to get direct access to the skin. Seungmin shook his head weakly, a flustered smile plastered on his face, torn between fending the hands off, or covering his embarrassing expression.

“I’d say you’re more of a fish than a dog.” The older hummed playfully, giggling at the way Seungmin flinched when he started working his way up to his armpits. “Considering how squirmy you are.”

“Yohohou’re s-so embahaharrassing!” The vocalist sputtered, feeling his resolve quickly crumble. No matter what, he refused to admit how much he was enjoying this.

“No, little pup.” Lino corrected, his grin widening. “This is embarrassing.”

Before Seungmin had the chance to ponder what that meant, there were lips pressed against his stomach as Minho blew a loud raspberry. He shrieked, a renewed wave of giggles cascading out of him, curling towards the older to try and protect himself. Undeterred, Minho simply changed targets, blowing another raspberry on the side of his neck.

Seungmin scrunched his shoulder up, wrapping his arms around himself to protect from wandering fingers, a wide smile stretched across his face. “Ohohokay! Ehehenough! P-please!”

“So whiney.” Minho teased lowly, but he stopped his actions all the same, now moving to card his fingers through the younger’s hair. Seungmin sighed, relieved, melting into the feeling.

“...I love you, hyung.” Seungmin murmured, his voice barely audible, muffled by the way he was curled up into his bandmate. The dancer laughed, his expression softening into something so disgustingly fond he would have destroyed any camera that captured it.

The bakery had always been charming. White-tiled walls, pastel piping bags, and sweet-smelling air that wrapped around every customer like a warm hug. 

Owned by Minho, Chan, and Seungmin, it was a cozy little place, known for its legendary strawberry chocolate macarons and its…odd but wildly popular tip jar system.

It was Minho’s idea, of course. That mischievous grin of his had ‘dangerous brilliance’ written all over it the moment he marched into the back of the bakery with a coil of pale pink silk ribbon in his hands.

Chan looked up from icing cupcakes. “What did Seungmin lose?”

Minho smirked, holding up the ribbon. “A bet.” He uncoiled the ribbon and held it ready. 

Seungmin, tied up twenty minutes later, blindfolded with the same silky pink ribbon, was deeply regrettingplaying dumb over a baking trivia quiz now. 

Arms stretched up above his head and bound gently—but firmly—to the swirly pink beam above the tip jar station, he was already tugging at the ribbons with nervous squirms. “This is ridiculous,” He muttered, cheeks a little flushed.

But Minho just beamed like he was the proud owner of the most delightful display piece in all of Seoul. He adjusted the delicate blindfold, smoothing Seungmin’s hair back with a sweet coo. 

.”You’re doing amazing already. Now remember—every coin that hits the tip jar earns a ‘thank you’. And depending on how generous they are…” He looked over at Chan, a delighted grin already spreading across his face. 

Chan cracked his knuckles dramatically, wicked grin already forming. “We give them a show.”

And oh, they did.

The bakery opened at 7:00 A.M as always. Before they knew it, Seungmin heard the jar rattle, and before he could even brace himself, Chan's fingers skated into his armpits, quick and fluttery, and Seungmin screamed.

“NAHAHAHAHAA—CHAAHAHAHAN!! WAHAHAIT—!”

Rush hour hit the bakery like a sugar storm.

The bell above the door chimed constantly as customers poured in, the line snaking out the door, drawn by the smell of pastries—and the sound of squeaky laughter echoing off the tiled walls.

Poor Seungmin was already in shambles. 

 Chan was in no rush.

The older boy stood beside Seungmin with a calm, devilish smile, index finger dragging in slow, agonizingly gentle lines up and down Seungmin’s twitching sides. Occasionally dragging the claws down to the obliques of the boy’s sides. 

And Seungmin was going crazy.

“Ah—AHAHAHA—n-nohoho plehehehease—!!!”

Another customer. Then two. Then five. Minho barely kept up behind the counter, multitasking like a pro, charming customers with drinks and pastries while gesturing toward the living attraction beside him.

“We’re running a very special thank-you campaign today,” Minho said sweetly as he handed over a latte. “Every tip gets you a squeal from our most grateful staff member.”

“STAHAHAHAFF MEMBERRRRRR??” Seungmin wailed, trembling as Chan began spiraling his fingertips over the same delicate spot on his side again and again. “I-I’M JUST A BAHAHAKERRRR—!!”

But Chan was already behind him, long fingers spidering up Seungmin’s sensitive sides, finding the exact spots that made his breath hitch and knees wobble like two twigs. His sides and his ribs, exposed from where his soft bakery labelled tee had been bunched up, were utterly vulnerable.

His voice cracked at the end, dissolving into another wave of uncontrollable giggles. His entire body jolted with every light stroke Chan made along his sides, that teasing trail of fingers that never gave him a second to recover.

The customers were delighted.

One dropped in a ten.

Chan’s eyebrows lifted. “Ten? Oh, Minnie. That’s a special one.”

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!” Seungmin shrieked immediately, breaking down into panicked, high-pitched giggles, twisting helplessly against the silk ribbons.

“Say thank you,” Minho sang from behind the counter.

“I—AHAHAHAAA—THAHAHAHANK YOUHUHUUU!!” Seungmin cried to the bewildered but utterly delighted customer. 

All he knew was the flood of noise—the laughter, the clink of the jar, the bright dings of the doorbell as more and more people poured in—and the constant, endless flutter of Chan’s cruel fingers against his sides. His legs shook uncontrollably, heels lifting off the floor every few seconds as his body tensed and jolted with every teasing pass.

Chan wasn’t even tickling hard. That was the worst part. He just lightly dragged his fingertips up and down the same spot on Seungmin’s trembling sides, slow, soft, steady. Like he had all the time in the world to watch Seungmin fall apart.

The coins were still clinking. The jar kept filling. People outside had started cooing. Another group came in laughing, waving their own spare change. 

And Minho, ever the charming host, greeted them while patting Seungmin’s arm affectionately. “He’s very ticklish. Feel free to be generous! I promise he loves it, just look at how he’s smiling, hm?”

And Seungmin would turn so red in comparison, eyes teary under the blindfold. He was thankful for it. He didn’t even want to know what expressions he was receiving at the moment. What a bizarre system. 

Minho leaned over the counter and whispered teasingly, “More tips, Min. Say thank you~”

Seungmin tried. He really did. But all that came out was, “AAAHAAHAHHAAAA THANK YOUHHUHUHU PLEHEHEHEHEASE COHOHOME—COME AGAHAHAHAHAIN!!”

Chan was grinning ear to ear, wiggling merciless fingers into Seungmin’s sides, moving with the fluid rhythm of someone who knew every single ticklish inch. “You’re doing so good, Seung,” he said encouragingly. “Just a few dozen more customers and we’ll buy that espresso machine you wanted.”

“SCREW THE ESPREHEHEHEHESSO MAHAHACHINEEEE—!!”

Chan was relentless. He knew Seungmin’s spots too well. His nimble fingers scribbled deep into the hollows of his underarms, dragging teasing little circles before darting to his ribs, squeezing up and down until Seungmin was laughing so hard his knees buckled. 

“Noo—nohohoho pleaHEHEHEHEAse—” He couldn’t even get the words out before Chan struck again, this time digging into his sides mercilessly.

“Say thank you, Seungmin, these customers paid for those manners,” Minho sing-songed.

Seungmin squealed, voice cracking from laughter as Chan dipped a finger into his belly button. “THAHAHANK YOUHUHUU FOHOHOR THE TIHIHP!!”

His voice and his laughs were all over the place. Shaky, high-pitched, completely betraying the usual gruff front he wore like armor. The tough, deadpan Seungmin who used to cross his arms and glare whenever he was even called cute was now reduced to a squealing, pleading mess for tips and mercy.

Jisung popped out of the kitchen with a tray of cupcakes and plopped a kiss to Seungmin’s cheek. “Our little mascot. You’re doing great, baby.”

Poor Seungmin went scarlet, and then screeched as Chan dove for his hips again, scribbling with no mercy.

“STAAAAAHAHAHAP!!”

But the jar clinked again.

And again.

Seungmin was howling, the pink ribbon blindfold fluttering as his head tossed side to side, grinning wide from how long he’d been stuck there. He jerked wildly against the silky restraints, legs kicking in frantic, ticklish protest while Chan’s devilish fingers danced deep into his poor armpits.

“OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSH—THAHANK YOU FOR YOHOUR GEHEHEHEHHENEROSITY!!”

Chan rewarded the long-winded thank-you by squeezing his sides with both hands and vibrating his thumbs over the soft skin there.

Seungmin squealed.

“AAAHHHHH NOHOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Seungmin,” Minho said sweetly from behind the chocolate fountain, “that’s not how we talk to paying customers.”

“I-I’M SOHOHOHORRY!!” Seungmin wailed immediately, brain completely fried. 

And Chan grinned at the full tip jar and decided Seungmin had probably had enough. He slowly undid the ribbons, giggling at the way Seungmin melted into the peace and quiet like a cat in the sunlight. 

Chan laughed as he untied the last ribbon, ruffling Seungmin’s hair with affection. “Let’s get you some water, Mr. Customer Service.”

And as Seungmin was carried off to the back room—mumbling soft giggly comments under his breath—Chan reminded himself to make Seungmin some tarts when he woke up. 

Because politeness?

Politeness paid off.

Especially when it came with the sound of Kim Seungmin’s sweet, squealing, utterly giddy laughter.