#inkidz

“The stars shining in the sky are nothing compared to the stars in your eyes,” you flirted as seductively as you could without bursting into laughter. 

Minho snorted, barely sparing you a glance as he remained preoccupied with his own phone. “Weak.”

You pointed an accusatory finger. “You almost laughed!”

“Almost doesn’t count,” he decided then and there – you had no recollection of this rule. Before you could word your protest, he looked you in the eyes and bluntly declared, “Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes?”

“Bold of you to assume I wished for you,” you shot right back much to his amusement. 

“Eh?!” He sat up straighter. “Are you saying my existence is not a wish come true? The insolence!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how seriously he was taking it. That as your mistake and you realised that the moment your eyes caught the spark in his. “Wait, wait!”

“I WIN!” he declared and threw his arms up in the air. 

You gasped. “That does not count! That wasn’t your pick-up line I was laughing at!”

“When did I ever say that the pick-up line had to make you laugh?” he teased, leaning in closer to brush his nose against yours before leaning back again with a laugh. “I win.”

You rolled your eyes. “One more round: best of three wins.”

❥[seo changbin] painting each other ...

“The longer we do this, the more I doubt this was a good idea,” you spoke through nervous laughter as the brush in your hand seemed to do everything but the one thing you needed it to do. “How do people do this on a daily basis and not cry?”

Changbin snorted. “They’re artists. They cry nevertheless.”

“That’s mean.”

“It’s the reality, baby— Did you steal my green again?” He glared at you.

You smiled at him as cutely as you could, trying to make your cheeks as prominent as possible as he kept his eyes on you. “Just a tiny bit.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re right. This was a terrible idea.”

“Let’s never take date ideas from Hyunjin again, deal?” you offered, but to your surprise he protested loudly. 

“I know you kind of hate this but…” His facial expression went from annoyance to cuteness a bit too quick. “It’s kind of fun though: painting you, in my favourite hoodie. It’s kind of like making a memento.”

“... Sure.”

“Plus, I’m sure my painting will look better than yours,” he added quickly before turning back to his sketchbook. 

You wondered if you should even argue as you stared at the painting in your hand.

❥[hwang hyunjin] learning dances through Youtube ...

“This should be easy,” he mumbled as he hit play on the tenth tutorial of the night at 1:34 am. Before you could protest, he was pulling you to his chest, giggles erupting from you both when the force of collapse cost you your balance.

He soon smiled sweetly, holding your hand close to his chest. “Hi.”

“Hi there,” you replied, staring at him. Had his eyes always looked so beautiful? Were they always sparkling? Just when you thought he couldn’t get any more perfect…

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen and everyone in-between! Let’s get this samba class going!” sounded from the tired Bluetooth speaker, forcing the both of you back to reality outside of beautiful chocolate skies and sparkling stars and cherry lips.

Your eyes widened as the instructor began the class. “Wait, samba?!”

“We’ve got this!” Hyunjin assured you, his arms already wrapping around you as per instruction. “Just trust me.”

You tilted your head doubtfully but uttered, “If you insis—Uegh!” He forced you to do a twirl like a tutorial an hour ago had suggested. You couldn’t hold back the squeal and the laugh that ripped through you as the room began spinning around. “Hyunjin! That’s not part of the choreography!”

“Then let’s make our own choreography!”

❥[han jisung] sampling random sounds for a song ...

“Okay, and now snap your fingers really fast!” He watched you intensely, headphones over his ears. “Faster!”

“I can’t do it any faster!”

He frowned before yelling out through laughter, “Are you even trying?”

“Jisung, my thumb hurts,” you took the chance to tell him. 

“Well, that’s too bad,” he told you and turned to his computer before rapidly turning back to you with wide eyes. “Wait, but really? Does it hurt a lot?”

You put on your best pout and nodded, theatrically holding holding your hand. He grimaced and took your hand to look at it.

“It does look a little red,” he mumbled and then pressed a kiss to your thumb and pointer finger. “There, that should be better.”

“Only a little.”

He whined at you, as if he was the one that was hurt. “What do we do now?” You promptly found yourself sitting in his lap, his fingers reaching over to tickle your sides. “Does it still hurt, hm? Are you still hurt?”

Through giggles, you barely managed to mumble out a ‘no’. He hummed in question but made no move to stop tickling. “Does it still hurt?”

“N-No!” 

Your laughter ceased alongside the tickles. He looked at you for a while – so adorable in his lap – before pushing you off and positioning you back at the mic. 

“Let’s try again. With passion this time, please.”

❥[felix lee] watching films ...

“No, no, don’t cry,” you heard your boyfriend softly whisper as Rose let go of Jack’s hand. 

Wiping your cheeks to confirm that you were, in fact, not crying, you turned to Felix and gave him a nice long look. “Babe, I’m not crying.”

“Well, I am not crying either,” he spoke as loudly as he could while rapidly blinking his eyes. “Definitely not crying. Not even a little bit.”

“... You can just ask me to hug you, you know?”

“But then… “ He glanced at you with sparkling eyes. “What if you let me go?”

“Felix.”

“I’m serious. If you hug me and I fall on the floor because you let go of me when I fully trust you, I’m telling Changbin,” he announced as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, eyes back on the TV screen. “Don’t let me go, Rose.”

“Just so we’re clear: he was okay with dying for her,” you spoke up after a while. 

Felix sighed. “I know… I’d die for you too, under any circumstances.”

“... You’re trying to make me cry too?”

“It’s unfair!”

❥[kim seungmin] picnic at midnight ...

You whined habitually when the strawberry bowl turned out to be out of your range. Seungmin paid it no mind at first but soon laughed at your grabby hands and pout. 

“Why? You want more cake?” he teased as cutely as he could. Or maybe he wasn’t trying to be cute; it was hard to tell with him. He made a show of reaching for the cake container before changing directions. “Or a sandwich?” 

You shook your head. His eyes lit up. 

He changed direction towards your desired strawberries and you could almost taste the sweetness on your tongue… when he changed direction again and picked up a water bottle instead, offering it to you. “Do you want some water, my love?”

You let out another whine before softly slapping his shoulder. He howled in laughter, the melodious sound echoing back from the trees of the park. “Why? What do you want, baby? Use your words.”

“... Strawberries.”

“You can’t reach?” he continued teasing, patting your head to annoy you further. “You could’ve just said so, love.”

“I wouldn’t have trouble reaching,” you grumbled and poked his shoulder, “if you weren’t quite literally lying on top of me.”

He clicked his tongue but handed you a strawberry nevertheless. “And here I thought you loved my affectionate side.”

❥[yang jeongin] playing board games ...

“So, just so we’re clear, there are no actual rules to UNO,” Jeongin joked as he dealt the cards for the fifth time that night. At this point, he was past suspecting foul play — you were clearly cheating. 

You stuck out your tongue. “It’s not my fault that you keep forgetting to say ‘UNO’.”

“I said ‘one’!” he protested with wide eyes and an even wider smile. The deck of cards was pointed at you in a manner that was clearly meant to be threatening but… Let’s be real: they were UNO cards. There are far more threatening things in this world.

“But that’s not ‘uno’!”

“Why would I say ‘uno’? I’m not Spanish,” he grumbled but dealt the cards anyway. “One more game and then we’re switching to ‘LIFE’.”

“Bet I’ll marry a doctor,” you joked as you picked up the cards, a plan formulating in your head as you saw the three ‘+2’ cards. Momentarily forgetting that your boyfriend had excellent hearing, you mumbled, “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

Visibly deflating at your words, Jeongin all but slammed his cards down before glaring at you in exasperation. You offered a questioning look before he took the cards from your hands and placed them back in the deck. 

Unfortunately, you couldn’t escape him, since he was part of your extended friend group and best friends with Felix. Mere days after joining the group of you, he was friends with everyone: Jeongin, Changbin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Jisung, Minho. They didn’t seem to find anything objectionable about Chan, either, which annoyed you.

He’d given you a sneering look the first time he’d seen you—you’d been eating a plate of nachos, much to your chagrin—and that look alone had caused you to spit, “Fuck off, man. What the hell?” Chan had just shrugged and walked away, aloof as any cat.

From then on, you avoided Chan like the plague and, thankfully, he seemed to do the same with you. But you still couldn’t completely avoid each other. You both liked your mutual friends too much to stop spending time with them just because of each other. And it wasn’t as if he was horrible all of the time...

So here you were, wandering around the fairgrounds with your friends. And Chan. What irked you tonight was the way Chan kept looking at you, sneaking glances here and there. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was checking you out—but that was both impossible and unwanted. For sure.

You tried your hand at whack-a-mole—imagining Chan’s head popping out of the hole—you tried the ring toss—and you rode the carousel. You didn’t particularly care that you were an adult, either, since you adored carousels. While you rode round and round, you again noticed Chan watching you. You threw a dirty look in his direction, hoping it would stick to him like the stinking mud stuck to the soles of your boots.

As usual, Chan just shrugged.

Then, Felix decided that you all had to ride the ferris wheel. Minho immediately shook his head and backed away, muttering something about Just standing over here. Jisung bounced slightly as he clung to Felix’s shoulders, excited as anything.

As the line shuffled forward, your group naturally split into pairs: Felix and Jisung, Jeongin with Changbin, and Hyunjin tagging along with Seungmin. Which left...

You sighed as you stepped up to the ticket barrier, and it sounded in stereo because Chan had just stepped up beside you. “You’re not any happier about this than I am, are you,” you said, a statement rather than a question.

As usual, Chan just shrugged, then handed the woman taking tickets one for himself and—

“I have my own,” you insisted, trying to hand over a ticket of your own before Chan could.

“Y/N, really. Allow me,” Chan said, practically shoving the two tickets into the woman’s hand. She gave the two of you a knowing glance, one you were sure she gave young couples.

Hah, as if.

Chan clambered into his seat first, placing his leather jacket over his knees, then waited to pull down the safety bar until you had taken a seat, too. Before you could so much as put your hands on the safety bar, though, the ferris wheel jolted into motion. It was all you could do not to fall into Chan.

Higher and higher it climbed and you immediately regretted not bringing a sweater that night. You tried to distract yourself by watching the lights of the city in the distance, but couldn’t fully ignore the fact that goosebumps had broken out all over your skin. A shiver ran from the top of your head to your knees.

“Ugh, just take my jacket already,” Chan grumbled after several minutes. “I can’t stand listening to your teeth chatter.”

You stared at Chan for a moment, then snatched the supple leather jacket from his outstretched hand. Warmth was warmth and you weren’t picky, even if it was Chan. Slipping your arms into the jacket, you felt yourself relax immediately. Not only was it warm but it smelled...

Fuck, it smelled delicious—like beeswax and cocoa and just a hint of muskiness that you knew was Chan’s alone. You did not like the fact that you had practically melted at the scent.

“Y/N...” Chan began. You didn’t look over at him, not trusting the confused emotions that had just begun swirling inside you. “Y/N, you know I don’t hate you, right?”

Had you not already been in a swinging bucket on a ferris wheel high up in the air, you would have thought the world was dropping away from you at Chan’s words. You swallowed.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you grumbled.

“Y/N, come on,” Chan wheedled. “I’m serious.”

“Chan,” you snapped. “Stop.”

You looked at the sky, just beginning to turn pink around the edges as the sun set, and wondered. You wondered why Chan was telling you, after months and months and months of clear disdain, that he didn’t hate you.

Had you read this all wrong? The same part of you that noticed just how delightful Chan’s jacket smelled, how handsome he looked in deep purple, how his eyes twinkled when he laughed, how that laugh—that giggle—sounded like water trickling over wind chimes…. That part of you that, really, felt perfectly fine with Chan sitting there beside you… It was screaming at you, telling you to just shut up and shut down for a moment, and look at what—who—was in front of you. 

“Fine,” you managed to choke out, still not turning to Chan, “tell me all about it.”

Chan gave you a quizzical look, then spoke. “Y/N, like I said, I don’t hate you. I think we’ve had a significant misunderstanding.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know why you seem to dislike me, but I’ve never felt anything like that toward. Quite the opposite.”

The opposite? Was Chan telling you he…

“Chan,” you said, still looking at the sky because you didn’t trust yourself to look at him, “the first time we met, I was eating a plate of nachos. You came over and gave me this sneery little look, like you thought I was disgusting or something, then walked off.” You hadn’t meant to sound so hurt, but as the words left your mouth, you found that he had hurt you in some small way.

Chan let out a chuckle. “Did you really—”

“Don’t mock me, you asshole!”

“I’m not mocking you,” Chan intoned. “Like I said, quite the opposite.”

You remained silent, focusing on not letting your eyes nor head swivel in his direction. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting your full attention.

Chan spoke again, “Look, was it this face?” 

You were forced by the question to look at him now, and indeed saw that sneering look you hated so much. The one you saw on his face whenever you were enjoying something particularly wonderful.

“Yes,” you hissed.

“Would you believe me if I told you that was the face I make when Im really into something? Or really like something? Or think whatever’s happening in front of me is rad?”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you groaned.

“No joke!”

“So, what… You’re telling me you were into seeing me messily eat a plate of nachos?” you said incredulously.

“Well, more like I was impressed by the fact that you honestly didn’t give a shit what anyone thought.” Chan passed and blushed faintly. “And you were super pretty, even with cheese on your nose.’

“You little shit,” you muttered. You took the opportunity to hunker down into his jacket that much further. It really was cozy.

“Yep, that’s me!” Chan grinned.

What he’d just said finally caught up to you then. “Wait, you think I’m pretty?” 

“Y-yeah?”

“Good. I think you’re pretty fucking handsome, too,” you said, pleased to be able to surprise him now.

“So,” chan said hesitantly, “does this count as a date?”

You burst out laughing. “I’m not so sure about that, but you might get lucky.”

Chan clearly didn’t miss the double meaning of your words and you saw his ears flame red, even in the dusk.

The two of you had been so caught up in talking and finally sorting out what truly had been a complete misunderstanding that you didn’t notice the ferris wheel slowly coming to a halt until you felt a little bump.

You looked up to see Chan staring past you to where Felix stood beside the ticket line.

“You wanna really shock Felix?” Chan asked with a mischievous glint in his eye, holding out his hand to help you down.

You took his hand without thinking. “What do you—”

Chan abruptly pulled you into his arms. At your astonished expression, he whispered, “May I kiss you?”

And just like that, every wall you’d constructed against him came crashing down. “Yes,” you breathed. 

The next thing you knew, you were held in a dramatic dip with Chan’s mouth meeting yours in what had to be the sweetest, most satisfying kiss you’d ever had. Faintly, you could swear you heard Felix exclaiming. Someone wolf-whistled.

Chan carefully brought you back to standing, an utterly smug grin on his face. “See? That’s what you’ve been missing,” he said before letting you go.

You wanted to bury your face in your hands, but opted for burying your face in Chan’s chest instead. That was definitely the better option. After all, now you could actually do that! As you got over your fit of embarrassment, you felt Chan drape his jacket around you more securely and ruffle your hair. Somehow, it all felt easy. 

Sliding off your stool, you shuffle to where Jisung stood at the counter and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his shoulder blade. He briefly passes a hand over yours in greeting, then continues chopping the cauliflower. You tighten your arms around his middle and an indistinct noise slips past your lips.

“Hmmm?” Jisung asks, still concentrating on cooking.

You don’t even attempt words, just mumble a disgruntled string of pouty-ness and slide your hands into Jisung’s jeans. That gets his attention.

“Oh sweetheart,” Jisung murmurs as he turns in your arms, sliding his hands around your waist and holding you firmly to him. He can tell you’re not in the mood to speak much, if at all. He can work with that. “Do you need me, baby?”

You nod, and tuck your face against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping that being in your boyfriend’s arms can shut out the world for at least a little bit.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Jisung says and presses a kiss to the top of your head. You feel a hand begin to rub soothing circles into your back, just below your ribs, and cracks begin to form in the fortress you’ve constructed around yourself to simply get through the day.

Jisung’s warm and real and the cotton of his hoodie—soft from innumerable washings—is smooth where it meets your cheek. You turn, slightly, to press a kiss to his right pectoral, earning a contented hum from him as he shifts to cradle your head to his chest. His gentle fingers card through your hair and you feel the tension begin to leave your shoulders, your back, your neck. You squeeze your arms more tightly around Jisung’s waist and, despite standing, attempt to burrow even more closely into Jisung.

You stand there in the middle of your kitchen, a light breeze dancing through the room, and let the stress, the uncertainty, the fears drain away from you to ride that breeze right back out of the window.

In Jisung’s arms, you feel supported, like he’s the roots to your tree, helping you to bend and sway and quiver and, most importantly, grow. and you know you are his roots, too.

In that moment, your heart overflows with love for your partner, your beloved.

You crane your neck back to look up at Jisung, who has had his chin resting on the top of your head as he holds you, and his gentle smile nearly brings you to your knees.

“Hey,” you murmur, nosing over his collarbones. You love those collarbones, taking every chance to show Jisung just how much.

“Hey, baby.” Your boyfriend’s voice is low and you can feel its rumble in your bones.

A beat.

“Kiss me?” you whisper, although to your ears, it sounds a bit more like a whimper.

“Gladly.”

You turn your face up to Jisung’s, expecting his lips to find yours as if magnetized; but, they don’t.

Jisung brushes the lightest of kisses along your cheekbones, your temples, down your neck. You’re glad you’re clinging to him and that he has you just as securely—otherwise, you’re sure you would melt. Little bubbles of happiness flit through you as you bask in Jisung’s affection, his hands still in your hair as he continues ghosting kisses over your skin. He chuckles against your skin as you squirm, clearly impatient.

Then, finally, Jisung’s lips meet yours. They’re soft and plump, and he tastes like the peppermint chapstick he’s used since long before you even knew him. Your hands make their way into his hair, brushing back the strands he’s kept long in the front and hauling his mouth even closer to yours. It doesn’t take much—a kitten lick here, a soft exhale of want there—for you to go from tender kisses to kissing like the world is crashing down around you.

Your senses are consumed with the feel, the taste, the scent of Jisung. Jisung. In that moment, he is your everything. Needing to feel him, to be even closer, you slip your hands under the hem of his hoodie, your thumbs coming to rest on the divots of his hips. His skin is smooth and warm, and when you brush your fingers over that one spot you know is particularly sensitive, you not so much as hear but feel him almost shudder on an exhale.

“God, what you do to me, baby,” Jisung whispers, and you know what he means.

“Can’t dinner wait?” you ask, feeling your face heat. This wouldn’t be the first time desire has forestalled a meal for the two of you or the four of you, really.

“Are you sure?” Jisung confirms, pulling away to hold your face in his hands. His gaze is direct, intense, knowing.

“Please, I just need to be close to you,” you say, and you can hear the desperation in your voice.

Jisung smiles, glances to check no burners are lit on the stove, then moves to pick you up and carry you. You hop a little to help him hoist you into his arms, then rest your cheek on his shoulder, basking in the caring and intimacy of the gesture. You wrap your legs around his waist and cling on. When you reach your bedroom, he lays you down on the bed as gently as a feather—it’s a testament to how much stronger he’s become, even since you began dating—then holds himself above you on his forearms. You hold him in the cradle of your legs, hands roaming over every inch of him you can reach.

Jisung’s kisses are unhurried and thorough, deliberately grounding you, calming you, urging you to just breathe, breathe, breathe. He is just as unhurried and thorough as he makes love to you, as he helps you bathe and dress, as he finishes making dinner.

And when Changbin and Chan arrive later in the evening and you practically run to greet them, kissing every inch of them you can reach, Jisung’s smile is breathtaking.

From the circle of Changbin’s arms, you look over his shoulder to Jisung, eyebrows raised as if to ask, Did you convince them to come home? Jisung just nods and mouths, “I love you.”

Anxiously, you waited for your stop. The streets were dark behind the bus windows, barely recognisable at all as night-time rain covered everything in sight. A part of you worried you had unknowingly missed your stop already. The streetlights did little to ease your worries.

Finally, you reached your stop, a place you now gladly found you could recognize even in terrible conditions like this. Or rather, you could recognize the person you called your home even as rain did its best to cover him. You were on your feet in a moment’s notice, half-running to the doors that seemed to fold open slower than ever before, keeping you from what you’d been looking forward to all day.

You slipped through the doors before they could even fully open, already running to hide under the umbrella he had brought along. As you took a moment to recover from the shock of the cold rain, you heard his soft laugh and felt a pat on your head. 

Minho smiled at you brightly when you finally looked at him. “I missed you, love.”

Expectantly, you opened your arms. He only hesitated a moment before pulling you into his warm embrace. He scoffed against your forehead. “You’re freezing cold. Give me your hand. Let’s go home and warm you up.”

❥[seo changbin] falling on a stranger during a rough turn… 

As the bus shook and rumbled and screeched, you began to wonder if public transportation was really even half as safe as the media made it out to be. As the driver ran another visibly red light, you seriously started considering calling the police for the safety of the public. 

“Seriously, what is this?” you heard someone grumble from beside you. It was now that you noticed that a young man had taken the standing spot at the back door, the first man standing. And clearly regretting it, if his white-knuckled grip on the seat in front of him was any indication to go by.

The bus jerked in a curve, too sudden for anyone to fully grasp the situation. Most people stayed in their seats, gripping onto their seats in pure terror and already yelling curses at the driver and threatening him with the police.

You were an unlucky passenger. Before you knew what had happened, you were all but flying out of your aisle seat and in the direction of the young man you had just been watching. To your surprise, you felt arms wrap around your waist instead of the cold embrace of the floor. 

Looking up, you found the young man staring at you with wide eyes, arms still tightly around you as he struggled to keep the both of you up. “Oh my god, are you okay?!”

❥[hwang hyunjin] strangers taking the same train home every day…

Perhaps you were too curious for your own good, or maybe you were just nosy, but you just loved to watch the people on the train home. Or perhaps you didn’t want to know about them, but simply wished to imagine a reality different from your own, to live a life through the people you saw but never spoke to. 

The people on the train tended to change every once in a while. Some would move to a different part of town, some would quit their jobs, some would graduate school — they all went on to live a different chapter of their lives in a different place, never to take this train again.

But he always stayed, and he never changed. The boy in the third coach, always seated in a window seat for as long as you could remember. He wore neat and fashionable clothes, much resembling a model fresh off a magazine cover, and he was always listening to something on his phone as he stared out the window the same way you stared at him.

You liked to think he was young and successful and took the train just because he liked the 3 pm view. But one day, —you thought and averted your eyes—, you would find out his true story. One day you’d stop imagining and just go up to him and ask—

“What’s your name?” He appeared right in front of you, a curious look in his eyes. 

❥[han jisung] sharing earphones… 

“Is it just me or is the bus extra noisy today?” Jisung wondered from your side. You wanted to laugh at the adorable confused frown etched onto his brows. Noticing your fond stare, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?”

You shook your head and looked out the window. Campus was still a long way off. You mumbled, “It’s the breaks. They’re worn out and screeching.”

“So noisy,” he sighed out and leaned against your shoulder. He didn’t remain there for long even as you lifted your hand to play with his hair. 

He pulled out of your half-conscious embrace and dove into his backpack, mumbling something under his breath. Before long, he returned with a victorious chuckle, the tangled cords of his old trusty earphones hanging between his fingers.

Plugging them into his phone, he offered you one. “Let’s listen to something a bit nicer for a chance. Else we’ll both have headaches before academic writing class.”

Your ears would surely thank you for taking the earphone from him as he fiddled with a music app on his phone. Soon a cheerful melody began playing in your ear, contrasting and almost drowning out the painful screeching. A smile tugged at your lips.

“Wait, are these mono or stereo?” you heard him mumble as he fussed with his earphone. You laughed as he shook his head in defeat and leaned back against your shoulder, eyes already falling closed to enjoy your presence.

❥[lee felix] giving you his seat on the bus after a long day… 

Though he got off work way before you ever did, he always insisted on taking the same bus home. He never told you why, but when you brought it up he gave you this one look that made you wonder if he was just as clueless as you were.

And despite how much you teased him for always waiting for the later bus with a bag of take-out and a semi-fresh bubble tea, you couldn’t help but feel strangely fond when you stepped onto the bus and saw his face light up. Habitually, he lifted up his cup as a salute before grabbing your hand the moment you reached him. 

“How was your day?” he always asked you, peering at you from his seat as though every word you told him was important enough for history books. 

Before answering, you glanced around. The bus was more full than usual. You had no chance to sit and rest your legs, as much as you wanted to. You sighed. 

But your boyfriend was no fool. Before you could even voice your concern, his eyes widened and he hopped out of his seat only to push you to sit instead. “Honey, you’re exhausted!”

Though you tried to protest, he shook his head and pressed his hand against your shoulder, effectively making you sit still. “I’ve been sitting for a while already. You need this seat more than I do, love. Get some rest.”

One day you’d repay the favour.

❥[kim seungmin] falling asleep on your shoulder… 

The gentle rocking and steady rumble of the train were more than soothing. Glancing at the clock on your phone, you momentarily considered taking a nap. But then you could miss your stop… You sighed and leaned back in your seat, opting to just stare out the window for now. You’d find something to do for the next hour.

In your dilemma, you hadn’t noticed him boarding the train at the edge of the city. He glanced around somewhat hesitantly before taking the spot next to you. You didn’t mind, too busy in your own thoughts and fantasies.

Ten, or maybe fifteen, minutes passed. Something heavy pulled you out of your thoughts so roughly you almost forgot where you were. It only took a moment to pinpoint the source of the heavy weight on your shoulder. 

The handsome young man had rested his head against you, probably unwitting and too deep in his fatigue to really choose. You contemplated pushing him off, or maybe waking him up gently. 

But your eyes fell on the dark bags under his eyes, remnants of many sleepless nights. His hair was ruffled from a long day, a contrast to the tidy yet casual suit he donned. You glanced at the time once again before making a decision: just this once, you’d be the pillow of this man.

❥[yang jeongin] public shows of affection that feel like a little secret… 

Masks over your noses, dutifully covering the lower parts of your faces, you and Jeongin stood face to face on the tram. Though you could not see his smile fully, you knew he was smiling at you, just like you were at him. 

It was these simple moments that made you appreciate his existence by your side even more. The moments where you were close enough to touch but too engrossed in your conversation to care. Only his fingers periodically brushed against yours on the railing, reminding him of your proximity.

“—and I’m just saying that the plot holes in that movie were—” your rant was cut off as he leaned down to brush his mask-covered nose over yours. Whatever you were saying was completely wiped from your mind. 

He laughed at the dumbfounded look in your eyes. “Why? I can’t show you love?”

“... Not while I’m ranting about the Avengers,” you mumbled, feeling somewhat shy all of a sudden. But beside that shyness was a sense of expectation. Would he go a step further?

As if reading your thoughts, he laughed again, mumbling something about ‘deadly cuteness’ under his breath as he glanced up at the ceiling for a moment. You accepted defeat in that moment.

But when the tram came to a stop and people around you were bustling on and off, leaving and claiming seats all around you, Jeongin surprised you once again. You watched as he briefly lowered his mask and pressed his lips against your forehead. Just as fast as it had happened, he covered his face again and averted his eyes, now feeling shy as well. 

You were sure this moment would be engraved into your mind for days to come.

you knocked again, a little louder this time, and opened the door. just a few steps and you were beside the bed.

“lixie?” you said, shaking his shoulder.

felix jolted, sitting up so fast the crown of his head almost collided with your nose. you ignored the fact that he was shirtless. “what? y/n? what’s the matter?” he sounded frantic.

“lixie, i can’t sleep, can i sleep here with you? the nightmares…”

“of course, y/n,” your best friend and roommate, who knew all about the nightmares that haunted you, said before you could finish. “here.”

felix scooted over on his bed and held out his arms to you. without hesitation, you climbed onto the bed and practically dove into felix’s arms, not caring one bit what he might think of you.

but felix hugged you to him, smoothing your hair and telling you that everything would be all right. after a moment, he said, “let’s go back to sleep, y/n, yeah? i promise i’ll hold you and frighten all those nasty nightmares away.”

you peered at felix, his features somehow illuminated by the ambient light from outside. in all honesty, he looked angelic. “okay. i think i’ll be able to sleep, then,” you murmured.

there was an awkward moment of trying to negotiate sleeping positions, but in the end you lay curled in the circle of felix’s arm.

“sleep, y/n, i’ve got you,” he said, his voice soft. “sleep.”