CHAPTER Ⅷ:
Clowning Around
trope: fem!9th skz member
warnings: angst, drama, insecure oc, cyber bullying, slow burn pairings: hyunjinxfem!oc
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THE SHRIEK OF THE SMOKE ALARM jolted Iseul upright. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she blinked blearily at the ceiling, disoriented.
“YAH, FELIX! TURN IT OFF!”
“I DIDN’T MEAN TO! I WAS JUST— I WAS MAKING EGGS—”
From somewhere down the hall, Jeongin’s voice cut through, slightly muffled but alarmed. “Uh, guys? I think I’m stuck.”
Then Minho’s deadpan voice. “Stuck where?”
There was a loud bang, followed by a dramatic wail. “THAT’S IT. I QUIT THE GROUP.”
Iseul sighed, running a hand over her face. Hyunjin.
She forced herself out of bed, slipping out into the hallway just as Chan stormed past, looking like he was two seconds away from actually quitting too. His hair was a mess, eyes still heavy with sleep, but the way his jaw clenched told her he was fully awake—whether he liked it or not.
She caught sight of Jisung, still curled up on the couch, mumbling half-formed song lyrics in his sleep. Meanwhile, Minho sat on the floor, lazily stretching, dark circles under his eyes. He looked completely unbothered by the absolute catastrophe unfolding around him.
“What happened?” Iseul asked, suppressing a laugh.
Changbin breezed past her, tossing an apron over his head like he was about to personally save the kitchen. “Felix tried to cook.”
“Correction,” Seungmin called from the doorway. “Felix failed to cook.”
“Guys,” Jeongin’s voice echoed from the laundry room. “I’m still stuck.”
Minho sighed, finally pushing himself up. “If I help you, will you stop screaming?”
Chan pinched the bridge of his nose like he was reconsidering all his life choices. "You know what? I don't care. Figure it out yourselves."
Hyunjin flopped onto the couch dramatically, clutching his foot. “No one’s even concerned that I almost died stepping on a Lego.”
"Hyunjin, I swear," Chan said, exhausted, "if you don't get up in the next five seconds—"
“Then what, Christopher? You’ll fire me?”
Chan inhaled sharply, his hands balled into fists. “You know what? Yeah. You’re fired. Congrats. Pack your things.”
"Great," Hyunjin groaned, flopping onto his back. "I didn't wanna be in this group anyway."
Iseul rolled her eyes, stepping around him on her way to the kitchen. Changbin was already at work, salvaging whatever was left of breakfast.
She lingered at the doorway, watching the boys move around each other in their usual, chaotic rhythm.
It was easy to get caught up in moments like this—to feel like she was really part of them.
But then there were moments when they, without meaning to, forgot she was there.
They made plans without telling her, rushing out the door in a flurry of noise, leaving Iseul standing in the hallway. Or they’d huddle together to review choreography, instinctively forming a circle she wasn’t always included in. It wasn’t malicious—just a habit they hadn’t broken yet.
She would force herself to shake it off, pretending it didn’t matter. But some nights, when the boys passed out in front of the TV or scattered into their rooms, Iseul stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, overthinking her place in the group.
The dorm was full, but her room felt empty.
“Did anyone actually get Jeongin out?” she asked, shaking herself out of her thoughts.
“I’m going, I’m going,” Minho muttered, disappearing down the hall.
Iseul chuckled, shaking her head as she leaned against the counter. Changbin turned absentmindedly, passing her a plate without looking, like it was second nature.
She hesitated only a second before taking it.
The dorm was too small. Too loud. Too chaotic.
It wasn’t built for nine people.
But slowly it was starting to feel like home.
The front door slammed open with a heavy thud, followed by the sluggish shuffle of eight exhausted bodies dragging themselves inside.
No one spoke. No one had the energy.
Felix collapsed onto the couch face-first with a dramatic groan. Hyunjin barely made it to the floor before dropping like a puppet with cut strings. Jisung leaned against the wall, eyes half-lidded as if he might just fall asleep standing up. Even Minho, usually composed, had his hands on his hips, breathing hard.
Chan was the last to enter, rubbing a hand down his face before shutting the door behind him. His hoodie was damp with sweat, his hair a mess, and his usual leader mode had been dulled by sheer exhaustion.
Iseul stepped aside as the boys trudged past her, feeling that familiar twinge again. The exhaustion was mutual, but somehow, she still felt a step behind—like she wasn’t weighed down by the same years of effort, the same unspoken understanding they shared.
No one really acknowledged her presence. Not on purpose. They were just too tired.
She trailed behind them into the living room, where Hyunjin was now sprawled across the floor, Felix had barely mustered the energy to kick off his shoes, and Jeongin sat slumped against the armrest, blinking dazedly at nothing.
“This comeback is gonna kill me,” Jisung mumbled, rubbing his face as he slumped next to Felix.
“Not if Chan hyung kills us first,” Seungmin muttered.
Chan made a vague noise of protest from the kitchen, where he was digging through the fridge for something—probably one of his weird energy drinks.
The comeback was creeping closer, and every day, their practice schedules had only gotten more intense. Rehearsals stretched late into the night, choreography revisions stacked up like a never-ending cycle, and the pressure to perfect every single detail weighed on all of them.
Then Minho clapped his hands once.
A chorus of groans followed.
“You’re kidding,” Hyunjin mumbled from the floor. “I physically cannot move.”
“Movie night,” Minho repeated, unbothered. “We need a break.”
Felix barely lifted his head from the couch. “Hyung, I think my soul left my body back at the practice room.”
“Good. Less complaining.” Minho nudged Hyunjin’s leg with his foot. “Get up.”
Hyunjin flopped onto his side. “No.”
Iseul blinked. “Do we even have the energy for a movie?”
“No,” Chan said immediately.
“Yes,” Minho said at the same time. He crossed his arms, giving everyone a pointed look. “Look, we’ll all just crash if we go to bed like this. You know what that means? Stiff muscles. Soreness. Regret.”
“We already regret existing,” Jisung muttered.
Minho ignored him. “A movie will help us relax. Besides,” he added, glancing at Iseul, “we should probably do things as a group more often.”
She knew what he meant. The past week had been… difficult. The boys weren’t being cruel, but they were used to being just eight. They didn’t always remember to include her, and she didn’t always know how to insert herself.
But now Minho was actively making sure she felt part of them.
She swallowed past the sudden warmth in her chest.
Minho smirked. “See? Iseul gets it. The rest of you, get up.”
There was some more whining, but slowly, the boys started moving. Felix rolled onto his back, dramatically sighing before pushing himself up. Jisung slumped into the couch, still half-asleep, while Jeongin blinked blearily, confused but willing to participate.
Seungmin, ever the realist, muttered, “If the movie is boring, I’m leaving.”
“Noted,” Minho said, already queuing up the TV.
The movie wasn’t boring. If anything, it was the opposite of that. The opening credits rolled in long, eerie waves of flickering images, casting jagged shadows across the room. The kind of music that crawled up your spine and clung to your skin like a chill, winding its way into your bones with every passing second.
The unsettling, rhythmic beat echoed through the room, distorted clowns leering from the screen. The kind of thing that made you second-guess your own reflection in the dark, every creak in the house suddenly louder
It wasn’t the horror that had Hyunjin on edge—it was the proximity.
One second, he was sprawled comfortably on the couch, arms tucked behind his head, determined to avoid moving for the night. And then, like a swift, silent shift, Minho had nudged Iseul toward him, and suddenly, she was sitting there beside him.
Iseul was next to him, her warmth radiating through the thin space between them. He hadn’t even noticed how much closer they were than before, until now. Every shift, every subtle movement of hers made his pulse spike. Her knee brushing against his—just a slight nudge—but it made his breath hitch every time.
It wasn’t even a full touch. It was just the shared proximity, the way their legs pressed so close it was almost impossible to ignore. But to Hyunjin, it felt like an electric jolt each time. And that was the problem.
He tried to adjust himself, shifting his legs a little, hoping it would ease some of the tension gnawing at him. His body ached, muscles sore from a long practice, and all he wanted to do was sink into the couch and forget about the world.
Not with Iseul next to him.
Not with her scent lingering in the air, her presence so familiar yet so distracting.
He could feel the quiet way she was shifting beside him, a soft rustle of fabric as she tried to get comfortable, but every slight movement made her knee brush against his, her shoulder brushing his in the process. Each time it happened, his pulse skipped.
His mind screamed at him to focus. To pay attention to the movie. To ignore the distracting flutter in his chest. But it was no use.
Hyunjin’s eyes flicked over to the screen—jagged images of a twisted, grinning clown with hollowed eyes and sharp teeth leering out from the TV. It should have made his heart race with fear. But the sudden shrill, warped sound of the movie only heightened the awareness of the girl beside him.
And then he heard it—just a soft, barely audible intake of breath from Iseul. It was quick, sharp, like she was trying to hide it, but Hyunjin caught it. He could always hear her better than anyone else, the subtle shifts in her breathing, the almost imperceptible changes in her body language. And he noticed that right now, she seemed… tense.
His lips curled into a slow, teasing grin.
“Iseul,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear over the movie. “Are you scared?”
Her head snapped toward him instantly, eyes flashing wide with a mix of surprise and defense. “No.” Her answer was quick, too quick, too defensive.
Hyunjin bit back a laugh, his grin only widening. “Oh really?” he teased, leaning back slightly, careful not to brush too close to her as he settled into the couch again. “You sure about that?”
She gave him a tight-lipped smile, her gaze flickering back to the screen, but Hyunjin could see the way her fingers gripped her knees tighter, the way her shoulders tensed. She was lying, and he knew it.
“Oh my god,” Han gasped loudly from the other side of her. “She is.”
The entire room went silent, as if the air itself held its breath in disbelief.
Felix immediately shot up, his eyes wide with shock as his popcorn spilled over the couch. “Wait, wait—are you actually scared of clowns?” he asked, voice thick with excitement.
“She totally is,” Seungmin confirmed, his finger pointing at Iseul like he had just discovered a hidden treasure. “Look at her face.”
Iseul’s face flushed a deeper shade of crimson, and she scowled. “Shut up,” she muttered under her breath, voice barely louder than a whisper, but it was too late. The damage had been done.
“Oh, this is spectacular,” Jeongin said, his grin widening, clearly having the time of his life. It was only a matter of seconds before the teasing began in full force.
“You should’ve said something,” Minho added, leaning in with his signature smirk plastered across his face. “I thought you were so tough.”
“I thought I could handle it,” Iseul mumbled, her arms tightening around her legs as she sank further into the couch, trying her best to shrink into the blanket of humiliation.
Hyunjin bit back a laugh. He wasn’t sure what was funnier—the way she tried to act unbothered or how clearly out of her element she seemed. And the fact that she was trying to hide her embarrassment only made it even more endearing.
With a sense of amusement bubbling up in his chest, Hyunjin grabbed the blanket draped over the couch and tossed it over Iseul’s head, all without a word. The whole room froze for a second, before everyone, including Iseul, realized what just happened.
Iseul, who had been so tense just moments before, now sat perfectly still under the blanket, the only thing visible being the small opening for her eyes, which blinked in bewilderment. Her expression was a mix of surprise and slight exasperation.
For a long, awkward moment, there was nothing but silence. Hyunjin felt heat creep up his neck, suddenly self-conscious, but he kept his gaze locked firmly on the TV, pretending not to care. “There,” he muttered, trying to keep his voice casual, “now you’re safe.”
Changbin howled with laughter.
“Oh my god—that was so stupidly soft—”
“I literally cannot believe what I just witnessed,” Chan groaned, shaking his head in disbelief, clearly trying to suppress his own laughter.
Hyunjin’s face burned. “Shut up,” he grumbled, turning away from the group, hoping to hide his embarrassment behind the facade of a fake scowl.
Under the blanket, Iseul’s body finally relaxed. Hyunjin couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders sagged, the tension melting away as she let out a quiet snort. The sound was almost like a release—like she couldn’t hold the act of being unfazed any longer.
For a brief second, it hit him.
This, right here, with her tucked away under the blanket like some shy little creature, was a side of Iseul he’d never seen before. Normally, she was so composed, so sure of herself in everything she did. But here, she was embarrassed and flustered—completely human.
Her fingers clenched the fabric of the blanket, pulling it tighter around her. And when her eyes met his, he saw something behind her gaze: a mixture of annoyance and relief, like she was just waiting for the teasing to die down.
“Oh, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Han wheezed, still wiping tears from his eyes as his laughter subsided. “You actually made her hide under a blanket, Hyunjin, what the hell?”
Hyunjin, unable to resist the pull of Iseul’s unexpected softness, found himself watching her more than he should’ve. The blanket may have been hiding her from everyone else, but it didn’t stop him from noticing the way her lips tugged into a subtle, embarrassed smile.
Maybe it was the way she had let down her guard, or the way she had trusted him, even in this silly moment, to do something that made her feel a little less exposed. Hyunjin wasn’t entirely sure why it made him feel so… connected to her.
Still, he couldn’t stop looking.
For once, Iseul wasn’t the strong, stoic girl in training. She was just a person, vulnerable and human. And for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, that made her even more captivating.
“Look at that,” Seungmin teased again, poking Iseul gently with his foot, making her wince. “You’re all curled up like a little scared bunny.”
“Shut up,” she muttered again, though this time it was softer. She didn’t pull away from Seungmin’s teasing as quickly, and the subtle shift in her posture told Hyunjin everything. She wasn’t so bothered anymore.
The teasing from Han and Seungmin continued to echo around the room, but the boys’ playful jabs were suddenly interrupted by a loud gasp from Han.
“Wait!” Jisung’s eyes went wide with realization. “There’s no snacks left!”
The room went silent for a moment, as if the collective craving for junk food was just too much to ignore. Then chaos erupted once more.
A collective groan filled the room.
“You just realized that?” Minho deadpanned.
“I was too busy laughing at Iseul.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll add that to the death threats list,” Han waved her off. “More importantly, what do we do?”
Minho stretched, standing up. “Simple. We make a snack run.”
“At this hour?” Hyunjin frowned, glancing at the time. “It’s almost 2 AM.”
“Exactly,” Felix grinned. “The best time.”
Iseul groaned. “Can’t we just—I don’t know—starve?”
Jeongin gasped, clutching his chest in mock betrayal. “Noona, that’s the worst thing you’ve ever said.”
“Are you scared?” Seungmin smirked.
She stiffened immediately. “No.”
“Really?” Chan grinned. “Because someone’s been extra jumpy ever since you-know-who appeared on screen.”
“Don’t say his name,” she muttered, shuddering.
The boys burst into laughter.
Felix clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s go before Iseul dies of stress.”
Hyunjin could barely focus on the conversation around him as they made their way to the convenience store. Iseul had unconsciously moved closer to him as they walked, her pace matching his without either of them realizing it. He could feel the slight brush of her sleeve against his arm every few seconds, and though it should’ve been nothing, it felt too much in the best and worst way.
There was something about the way she held herself, the way she hesitated, like she was trying to shrink into the hoodie Minho had thrown her way. He couldn’t stop looking at her as she pulled it over her head, the sleeves swallowing her small frame. For a second, all he could think about was how it made her look even more delicate, and then that damn hoodie—his hoodie—caught his eye.
Hyunjin’s stomach dropped.
She was wearing his hoodie.
The one he always grabbed when he was cold.
The one he’d worn on lazy days when he didn’t care to impress anyone.
The one he’d never imagined seeing on someone else.
Iseul was walking beside him, unaware that his mind was spiraling. He didn’t know if he should say something or just keep walking.
He had to stop thinking about it. He wasn’t that guy, was he? This was just a hoodie, a simple, random exchange. But it didn’t feel simple anymore.
A shiver ran down her spine as a gust of wind cut through the streets. He could hear the subtle hitch in her breath, the way her fingers tightened around the sleeves.
"Hwang," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t know what she expected from him, but he couldn’t help himself. He glanced down at her, trying to mask how much her proximity was affecting him.
"Yeah?" His voice came out quieter than he intended.
"Do you think clowns really hide in the sewers?" she asked, her voice tremoring, more from fear than curiosity.
He froze for a second, blinking as he processed the question. A soft laugh escaped him, but it wasn’t teasing, not in the slightest. “I don't know. Why?”
She winced, shuddering as she quickened her pace, the oversized hoodie practically dragging behind her. “I just... keep thinking they’re waiting for me. Or, like, they’ll pop up when I least expect it.”
He couldn’t help but feel a little protective of her. Despite the weird situation of her wearing his hoodie, he wanted her to feel safe. The tension in her shoulders was evident even in the moonlight. It didn’t sit right with him.
“Hey, it’s alright,” he said, his voice softer this time. “There’s no clown lurking around here. Just us.”
She didn’t respond right away, but he saw her nod slightly, though it didn’t do much to alleviate the anxiety that was building in the air between them.
He stepped a little closer, his arm brushing against hers by accident. She didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in her paranoia, but the second their skin made contact, something jolted inside him. He could feel the warmth of her, the way she instinctively leaned into his presence just a little. Her steps were now in sync with his, her rhythm matching his every move.
And it didn’t escape him that she hadn’t noticed how close they were walking, not once.
He tried to breathe normally, but it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t just the hoodie. It wasn’t just the fact that she was visibly rattled. It was the way she looked when she wore it—like she belonged here, next to him.
Hyunjin glanced down at her again, his gaze lingering on the way she adjusted the sleeves, pulling them over her hands as if they were too big. It was ridiculous how much he was focused on something so small.
Then, Jeongin called out, and Hyunjin’s chest tightened when he realized what the younger boy had just noticed.
“Wait, Hyunjin hyung,” Jeongin said with a grin. “Is that your hoodie?”
His gaze flicked to Iseul, and her reaction—flustered, embarrassed—was immediate. She tugged the hood tighter around her face like she could hide from all of them. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way she tried to brush it off, the way she didn’t want anyone to notice. She was trying so hard not to show how awkward it made her. And that made him feel something strange.
Iseul stuttered, her face flushing instantly. “What? No, I—”
The realization was hitting her now, the connection made, and Hyunjin could practically feel the heat rising in his face as well.
“Ohhh,” Seungmin chimed in, a sly smile spreading across his face. “I knew you two were close, but this? Wearing his hoodie now? That’s a whole new level of comfort.”
Iseul looked absolutely mortified, like she wanted to disappear. And honestly, Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. He knew Minho had tossed her the hoodie for no reason other than to mess with her. But now it felt different. It felt… intimate.
His hoodie on her? No one should have that right.
Iseul’s stomach twisted. “It’s not like that,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, but the boys were already having too much fun with it. The teasing was just beginning.
Hyunjin glanced down at her, his chest tightening, not entirely sure how to handle the situation. He wasn’t sure whether it was the fact that she looked so comfortable in his hoodie, or the fact that everyone was pointing it out, but something about it didn’t sit well with him.
Minho, ever the instigator, was grinning from ear to ear. “Comfortable there, Iseul?” He leaned in, voice dripping with mischief. “You sure you’re not getting too cozy, huh? Or maybe you just like the way he smells?”
The words hit her hard, and before she could even stop herself, Iseul shot back, defensive and flustered, “It’s not like that, oppa.”
The second the word slipped out, the entire group fell silent. Iseul’s eyes widened in shock. She hadn’t meant to say it, but now that it was out, she couldn’t take it back. Her hands instinctively flew to her face as she groaned. “I did not just say that.”
The boys were in complete chaos. Han was laughing so hard he almost fell over. Jeongin and Seungmin were grinning from ear to ear, clearly enjoying her discomfort.
“Oppa?” Minho gasped theatrically, clutching his chest. “Oh, you hear that, Hyunjin? Looks like Iseul’s already picking favorites.” He winked at Iseul, clearly enjoying how flustered she had become.
Iseul shot him a glare, embarrassed but trying to keep her cool. “Please shut up,” she muttered, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.
Hyunjin, despite his own discomfort at the teasing, couldn’t help the tiny spark of jealousy that flared up at the sound of her calling Minho “oppa.” It was so natural for her to say, so casual. And now, for some reason, it felt like a mark of something important—something he hadn’t even realized he wanted until now. The jealousy was quick, but he forced it down, trying to act like it didn’t bother him. It shouldn’t.
Chan on the other hand looked absolutely betrayed.
He let out the biggest sigh, shaking his head like he was carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. “No, seriously. This isn’t fair. I deserve to be called ‘oppa’ first.”
Iseul shot him a withering look. “Not you too. Please—”
“No, no,” he cut in, pressing a dramatic hand to his chest. “Think about it! Who was the one who personally talked to your mom one-on-one that day?” He pointed at himself, eyes wide with exaggerated disbelief. “Me. Who was the one constantly looking after you when you first got here? Me again.”
Hyunjin’s jaw tensed at that.
Because, yeah. Chan was always looking after her. Always making sure she was okay. And Hyunjin? He had spent so much time pushing her away that by the time he’d realized he didn’t want to, it felt like she was already slipping through his fingers.
And now, she was leaning on him like it was the easiest thing in the world. But it wasn’t easy. Not for him.
Because the longer she stayed close, the harder it got to ignore the way her warmth pressed against his side, or the way she smelled like vanilla and something faintly floral. Or the way she’d called Minho ‘oppa’ so effortlessly—like she trusted him. Like she saw him.
He didn’t want to care about something as stupid as a nickname. But Minho got an ‘oppa.’ Chan got to be her protector.
And why did that thought make his chest feel so damn tight?
Meanwhile, Chan was still rambling. “Honestly, I should be first in line. I mean, if anyone here gives off protective older brother vibes—”
Minho snorted. “Older brother?”
“Don’t even start,” Chan shot back before dramatically turning back to Iseul. “Look, Iseul. I’m not asking for much. I’m just saying—if you’re gonna hand out ‘oppas’ like candy, maybe I should get one too?”
Iseul, still reeling from the absolute chaos she had unleashed, groaned and buried her face in her hands again. “I swear to God, if I say it, will you all shut up?”
Jeongin and Seungmin exchanged a look before nodding. “Probably not,” Seungmin admitted.
“Yeah, but we wanna hear it,” Jeongin added.
Iseul exhaled sharply, looked straight at Chan, and with the most deadpan expression she could muster, muttered, “Fine. Oppa. There. Happy?”
Chan immediately turned smug, tossing his arms behind his head like he had just won the lottery. “That’s all I wanted.”
Hyunjin clenched his fists. He had no right to be mad. None at all.
Not visibly, of course—he had too much pride for that. But internally? Oh, he was livid.
Because now Chan had an oppa. Minho had an oppa. And him? Nothing. No title. No special nickname. Just Hwang.
He sat there, arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line as he watched Chan bask in his victory. The actual audacity.
“Oh wow, Chan-hyung, congratulations,” he drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You must feel so accomplished.”
Chan, ever the shameless one, just grinned. “You wouldn’t get it, Hyunjin. It’s a privilege.”
Hyunjin wanted to knock that stupid smug look off his face. Instead, he leaned back with an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. “I mean, I get it. Really, I do. But oppa?” He shot a look at Iseul, tilting his head. “Don’t you think that’s a bit much? Chan’s more like a… I don’t know. A dad.”
Chan choked. “Excuse me?”
“I mean, think about it,” Hyunjin continued, fully embracing his pettiness now. “He nags, he worries, he’s always giving inspirational speeches no one asked for—he’s basically the team ahjussi.”
Minho cackled. “He’s got a point.”
Iseul, clearly regretting all of her life choices, rubbed her temples. “I hate this conversation.”
Hyunjin smirked. “What? You started it.”
Her glare was sharp, but he wasn’t fazed. Good. If he was suffering, so was she.
“Oh, Iseul~” Changbin sing-songed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, now that you’ve said it for Chan and Minho-hyung… doesn’t it feel unfair if you don’t say it for Hyunjin-hyung too? After all he looked after you and protected you from your imaginary clowns the whole night.”
Hyunjin stiffened. His heart, against his better judgment, leaped.
Iseul, however, scoffed. “Hyunjin? As oppa? Yeah, no.”
For a second, he was convinced he’d misheard her. Maybe she’d said it wrong. Maybe she’d meant something else. But the teasing lilt in her voice—the absolute finality of her words—made it clear. She meant exactly what she said.
The group erupted into laughter, Minho clutching his stomach, Jeongin practically wheezing, and Chan wiping imaginary tears from his eyes.
“Oh my god,” Han gasped between laughs. “That was brutal.”
Even Seungmin, who usually preferred to play the instigator rather than react, had to cover his mouth, shoulders shaking with amusement.
Hyunjin, on the other hand, was going through it.
Not that he would ever show it, of course. He was Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin. He didn’t get worked up over stupid things like nicknames.
Of all the ways she could’ve rejected the idea, she chose that?
Hyunjin scoffed, rolling his eyes to mask the sting. “You’re acting like I’d even want to be your oppa.”
“Oh?” Iseul raised a brow, folding her arms across her chest. “So you admit it bothers you.”
“I never said that,” he shot back too quickly.
“You didn’t have to,” she said, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.
She was enjoying this. That little glint in her eyes, the way she tilted her head ever so slightly—she knew exactly what she was doing. And the worst part? It was working.
Hyunjin should’ve let it go. Should’ve just shrugged it off, acted like he didn’t care. But something about the way she looked at him, so completely unbothered, made his competitive streak flare.
“Oh, Iseul,” he drawled, mirroring her smirk. “You act like this is some huge loss for me. Please. I’d rather be called Hwang than have the same title as these guys.”
Minho snorted. “Good save.”
Iseul rolled her eyes. “Right. Because you definitely aren’t sulking.”
“You’re sulking right now.”
“I am not—” Hyunjin stopped himself, inhaling sharply. No. He wasn’t going to let her win. He was better than this.
Chan, who had been watching the entire exchange with far too much amusement, finally clapped his hands together. “Alright, children. Let’s move before the convenience store closes.”
Iseul, looking far too pleased with herself, turned on her heel and started walking. Hyunjin let her go ahead, watching as the oversized sleeves of his hoodie swung at her sides.
He wasn’t sulking. He was just… processing.
And if he happened to catch Jeongin grinning at him like he’d just uncovered the greatest secret in the world, well—
Hyunjin would deal with that later.
The convenience store was a brightly lit oasis in the quiet night, its neon sign buzzing softly against the silence of the street. As soon as the automatic doors slid open, the group spilled inside with a mix of laughter and chatter, scattering almost immediately in different directions like unsupervised children.
Iseul had barely taken two steps when a familiar presence appeared beside her. She glanced up to find Hyunjin, his expression still unreadable after the whole hoodie ordeal. She wasn’t going to think about that, though.
Jeongin was the first to disappear, heading straight for the snack aisle with Seungmin hot on his heels.
Changbin and Han darted toward the chips section, their voices already rising in a passionate debate.
"Original is superior," Han argued, spinning a can of Pringles between his fingers with a dramatic flourish.
Changbin looked offended. "No, sour cream and onion is the king of Pringles."
"You’re lying to yourself."
"You’re lying to the world."
"Your entire bloodline is ugly."
Chan, standing a few shelves away, muttered, "Why does every conversation in this group escalate like this?"
Han ignored him. "Say it to my face, Seo Changbin."
Changbin squared up, gripping his can of Pringles like a weapon. "I am saying it to your face."
At this point, Iseul had joined Jeongin and Seungmin in the snack aisle, where they were already strategizing their selections. Jeongin had a bag of honey butter chips in one hand, a shrimp-flavored snack in the other, and a contemplative expression on his face.
Seungmin, meanwhile, had to comment on Iseul’s first choice.
"Are you serious?" he deadpanned, eyeing the pack of yogurt drinks she had immediately grabbed.
Iseul clutched them protectively. "Do not start with me, Kim Seungmin."
"You're actually insane," he continued, undeterred. "You walk into a store full of actual food, and the first thing you go for is yogurt?"
"First of all," Iseul shot back, "it’s not just any yogurt, it’s strawberry-flavored probiotic perfection."
Seungmin made a gagging noise. "You sound like a cult member."
"Iseul’s Yogurt Cult," Jeongin mused, barely containing his laughter.
"Jeongin, I thought you were on my side."
"I never said that," Jeongin said, popping a chip into his mouth.
"Traitor," Iseul muttered, shoving another pack of yogurt drinks into their basket.
Seungmin stared at it. "Are you stockpiling for the winter?"
Jeongin leaned in, smirking. "She’s probably stressed."
"Because of a certain someone sulking near the drink fridge."
Seungmin and Iseul turned in unison.
Standing near the refrigerated section, looking way too broody for someone in a convenience store.
Seungmin’s lips curled. "Oh, he’s pouting."
Jeongin grinned. "It’s spectacular."
Iseul shot him a look. "Don’t use that word against me."
Jeongin just wiggled his eyebrows.
Meanwhile, Felix had also noticed Hyunjin’s mood and, because he was Felix, he had to poke at it.
"Hyunnie, why do you look like you just lost a fight?" Felix teased, slinging an arm around Hyunjin’s shoulder.
Hyunjin exhaled sharply. "I didn’t lose anything."
Felix’s gaze flickered toward Iseul—toward the hoodie she was wearing—and his mouth twitched. "Are you sure?"
Hyunjin tensed immediately.
Felix gasped, eyes widening like he had just cracked a case. "Wait. Are you jealous?"
Hyunjin’s expression shattered into pure offense. "Why the hell would I be jealous?"
"You tell me, sulky boy."
Felix grinned. "You’re totally sulking."
Iseul turned back to the shelf, grabbing another snack in an attempt to ignore this conversation. She was not involved in this. She was not thinking about the hoodie. She was not thinking about Hyunjin.
But Jeongin and Seungmin?
"This is the best drama I’ve seen all week," Jeongin murmured, popping another chip into his mouth.
"I feel like I should take notes," Seungmin added.
Felix, meanwhile, was having too much fun. "Hyunnie, do you want a hug? Iseul wouldn't mind giving you one."
Hyunjin’s glare could have melted the ice cream section.
Meanwhile, over by the register, an entirely different kind of chaos was unfolding.
Chan, standing in front of the impulse buy section, had picked up a pack of random trinkets.
"We need these," he announced.
Minho glanced over. "No, we don’t."
Chan held up a tiny portable fan. "But it’s cute and useful—"
"What about these—look, Minho, tiny screwdrivers. You never know when we might need them!"
"Are you planning on repairing a car mid-tour?"
"No, I understand perfectly," Minho deadpanned. "I understand that you have no self-control."
Chan scowled but reluctantly put the tiny fan and screwdrivers back. But just as Minho turned his attention away, he grabbed something else.
"Minho," Chan called sweetly.
Minho sighed, already done. "What now?"
In Chan’s hands was a sheet of cat stickers.
Minho’s eyes narrowed. "I don’t need them."
Chan smirked. "You sure?"
Minho’s gaze flickered to the stickers, then back to Chan.
Chan burst into laughter, throwing an arm around Minho’s shoulder. "Knew it."
Just then, Seungmin and Jeongin arrived at the register with an absolutely ridiculous amount of snacks, piling them onto the counter with zero shame. The cashier—who had likely seen far worse at this hour—didn’t even blink as they rang everything up.
The total price flashed on the register, and Chan, ever the responsible leader, took one glance at it and immediately turned to the younger members. "Alright, who’s paying?"
Everyone, without hesitation, pointed at him.
"Unbelievable," Chan muttered, pulling out his wallet. "One day, you guys are gonna be rich and famous, and I’m gonna make you pay for everything."
"Sure, hyung." Jeongin grinned, already tearing open a pack of chips. "Sure."
Once they stepped outside, the cool night air pressing against their warmed faces, Iseul sighed in relief, adjusting the plastic bag in her hand.
Then, suddenly—something soft brushed against her fingers.
She blinked, looking down.
Iseul stared at the lollipop resting against her fingers, its bright wrapper crinkling under the soft pressure of her grip. The warmth of Hyunjin’s touch still lingered, barely there, but enough to make her pulse stutter for half a second too long.
She swallowed, willing herself to play it cool.
"Seriously?" she muttered, turning slightly toward him. "A lollipop?"
Hyunjin didn’t look at her. He just shrugged, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, gaze locked straight ahead like she wasn’t standing right next to him, holding undeniable evidence of his random act of kindness.
"Thought you liked sweets," he said, voice too casual.
Iseul frowned, staring at the candy. "I do, but—"
She blinked. "Are you—are you giving me orders now?"
Hyunjin sighed, finally glancing at her. "Just—" He gestured vaguely at the lollipop. "Take it or don’t. Whatever."
Felix, who had been watching everything from behind them, covered his mouth to muffle his very obvious giggle.
Jeongin, on the other hand, had no such restraint.
He leaned in, grinning like he had just been handed a new piece of gossip to wield against them. "That’s not just any lollipop, you know."
Iseul narrowed her eyes. "What?"
"It’s Hyunjin’s favorite flavor," Jeongin sing-songed.
Hyunjin whipped around, face immediately burning. "Shut up."
Felix gasped dramatically. "He gave you his favorite flavor?"
Seungmin popped up out of nowhere, as he often did when chaos was brewing. "That’s, like, the ultimate sacrifice," he mused, fake-serious. "Hyunjin never gives up his favorite snacks. It’s unheard of."
Hyunjin was two seconds away from shoving Jeongin into oncoming traffic. "You guys are so annoying."
Jeongin just grinned wider. "I prefer the term spectacular."
Iseul turned the lollipop between her fingers, staring at the wrapper as if it held some kind of secret she wasn’t meant to understand.
Something about this moment—this tiny, insignificant moment—made her chest feel warm in a way that unsettled her.
It was nothing. Just a lollipop.
She unwrapped it, popping it into her mouth without thinking.
Hyunjin’s eyes flickered to her, lingering for a second too long before he cleared his throat and looked away again, fast.
Felix nudged him, his smirk pure evil.
"Feeling generous tonight, Hyunjin?"
Hyunjin groaned, pushing past them toward the street. "I hate all of you."
Jeongin threw an arm around Iseul’s shoulder, completely ignoring him. "So, tell me—on a scale of one to ‘this is the best thing anyone’s ever done for me,’ how touched are you right now?"
Iseul shoved him off. "Oh my God, shut up."
But as they walked down the quiet street, Hyunjin a few steps ahead of them—his head down, hands still deep in his pockets—she couldn’t help but press her tongue against the candy in her mouth, her thoughts tangled in a way she wasn’t ready to face yet.
She could still feel the ghost of his fingers brushing against hers.
TAGLIST: @leewritesstuff, @athens-09xx, @allenajade-ite, @idjdndjzbsdm, @idjdndjzbsdm, @hyuneskkam, @geni-627, @valkirymin, @miminbin, @tillaboo, @dreamerwasfound,
STORY HINT: Hyunjin's favourite flavour of lollipop is grape. It’s a little dramatic, just like him. Some people love it, some people hate it, but it’s a bold choice. Plus, it has that deep, rich flavor that sticks around.
And THAT, ladies, gentlemen, and yogurt enthusiasts, is what happens when you let Stray Kids loose in a convenience store at 2 AM.
The maknae trio? MENACES TO SOCIETY. Felix, Han, and Changbin? Should be banned from public spaces. Chan and Minho? The worst responsible adults I’ve ever seen. Hyunjin? Sulking so hard he might develop permanent frown lines.
Meanwhile, Iseul’s yogurt addiction is thriving, Jeongin is collecting blackmail material, and Hyunjin, in his infinite stupidity, has decided that sneakily giving her a lollipop is the best way to process his growing crush.
Let’s all take a moment for Hyunjin, who is currently in denial. He will stay there for a while. Pray for him. (AFTERALL DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT)
Anyway, RIP to the store employees, pray for Hyunjin’s sanity, and as always, leave likes and comments.
Comment down below your favourite part or I’ll steal all your yogurt.
Stay safe!!
~Candy
