for me to do the fic I have in my head I need your help!! I need you to comment down here (or private msg) the link to one of your spotify playlist, PLEASEEE🙏🏻🙏🏻
| (a/n): I got this song on replay allllll day, so I had to do something
| wc: 4,5k
Seoul looked unreal at night.
Maybe it was the rain against the windows of the van, turning every streetlight into blurred gold. Maybe it was the exhaustion sitting heavy in your bones after three consecutive performances that blended together in your mind. Or maybe it was him.
Hyunjin sat beside you in silence, one arm lazily stretched across the seat behind your head while the city rushed past outside. Your manager thought you were already back at the hotel. So did his.
You should have cared more.
“We should leave,” he suddenly said, voice low enough that it almost disappeared beneath the sound of the road. “Like, actually leave.”
You turned toward him slightly. “Leave where?”
“Anywhere that isn’t here.”
There was a smile on his face when he said it, tired but genuine, and for a second he looked less like one of the most recognizable idols in the country and more like a boy desperate for a single breath of freedom.
The driver glanced at him through the mirror. “You still want me to keep going?”
Hyunjin nodded immediately.
And that should have been the moment you said no. Because nothing about this was smart. Not disappearing in the middle of promotions. Not driving out past the glowing center of Seoul while your phones buzzed nonstop in your bags. Not the way your heart started beating faster the farther the city disappeared behind you.
But you looked at him instead.
At the soft strands of black hair falling into his eyes. At the silver rings on his fingers. At the faint traces of stage makeup still clinging to his skin after a long day. He looked beautiful in the careless kind of way that made it hard to breathe sometimes.
“You know this is insane, right?” you murmured.
“I know.”
“And if anyone finds out—”
“They won’t.”
The confidence in his voice almost made you believe him.
Outside, the crowded streets slowly gave way to quieter roads lined with dark trees and dim convenience stores glowing under the night sky. Seoul became smaller in the distance until it was nothing more than scattered lights behind mountains. You rested your head against the cold window.
For weeks, your lives had been cameras, rehearsals, security guards, fake smiles for reporters asking the same questions over and over again.
Who are you close with lately?
Are you dating anyone?
How do you deal with fame?
You wanted to laugh every time. As if fame was something you “dealt with.” It consumed everything — your sleep schedule, your privacy, your name, your future.
And somehow, somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, Hyunjin had become the only thing that still felt real.
The car finally stopped outside a small hotel tucked near the mountains, far from the city and far from anyone who might recognize you.
That was the point.
No fans waiting outside. No flashing cameras. No staff members following behind. Just silence.
Hyunjin pulled his hood over his head before stepping out first. Cold air immediately rushed into the car, carrying the scent of rain and pine trees. You followed him inside with your head lowered instinctively, years of idol training forcing paranoia into every movement.
But nobody looked twice at you.
The woman at the front desk barely glanced up. For once, you were just another couple arriving too late at night.
The thought made your chest ache unexpectedly.
Inside the room, everything felt strangely small. One bed. Warm yellow lighting. A tiny balcony overlooking dark hills disappearing into the distance.
Hyunjin closed the door behind him and exhaled deeply, like he’d been holding his breath for hours. Then he laughed.
Not the polished laugh he used on variety shows.
A real one.
You stared at him.
“What?”
“You’re smiling” you said quietly.
“So are you.”
You hadn’t even realized.
For a while, neither of you spoke much. The television played softly in the background while rain tapped against the windows. You sat on the floor eating instant ramen from paper cups because it was the only thing the hotel kitchen still had available, and somehow it felt more intimate than every expensive afterparty you’d ever attended together.
At some point, Hyunjin moved to sit beside you against the bed. Your shoulders brushed lightly.
Neither of you moved away.
“You ever think about disappearing?” he asked suddenly.
“All the time.”
“I mean really disappearing. No cameras. No schedules. Nothing.”
You looked down at your hands. “I don’t even remember who I was before all this.”
The confession slipped out too honestly.
Hyunjin turned toward you then, expression softer than you expected. “I think I would’ve liked you then too.”
Your breath caught.
That was the problem with him. He never flirted carelessly. Never said things just to hear himself speak.
When Hyunjin spoke, he meant it. Which made him infinitely more dangerous.
The room suddenly felt smaller. Warmer. You could hear the rain more clearly now, steady against the glass as midnight slowly turned into something later.
“You know this won’t last forever, right?” you whispered eventually.
It wasn’t really a question.
Idols like you didn’t get endings like the movies. Too many people watched your every move. Too many contracts. Too many expectations.
Hyunjin stayed quiet for a moment. Then he looked at you with an expression you would remember for years afterward.
“I know” he said softly.
And somehow that made everything worse.
Because he knew.
And you knew.
Yet neither of you stopped.
Later, you stood together on the balcony wrapped in oversized hoodies, shoulders pressed together against the cold.
Hyunjin looked impossibly beautiful under the dim light spilling from the room behind him — tired eyes, messy hair, fingers curled loosely around a cup of coffee gone cold hours ago.
You remember thinking then that this was the beginning of something already doomed.
And maybe that’s why you loved it so much.
Because even while it was happening, it already felt like a memory.
But, the reality of your words seemed to snap something inside Hyunjin. The quiet melancholy of the balcony vanished, replaced by a sudden, fierce urgency that made your breath catch in your throat. He didn't want to look at the skyline anymore; he didn't want to talk about the end. He wanted to fight it.
Before you could process the shift, his hand gripped your wrist, pulling you inside from the cold balcony air and slamming the glass door shut behind you, shutting out the rest of the world.
He didn't even let you walk fully into the bedroom. His mouth slammed into yours right there, catching you against the heavy desk besides the window. There was no gentleness this time, no slow hesitation. It was a desperate, bruising kiss, a chaotic clash of teeth and lips that tasted like adrenaline and unspoken fears. His hands were everywhere, tangling in your hair to tilt your head back, demanding more depth, while his other hand tore at the hem of your clothes.
He didn't take them off with reverence; he rid you of them out of sheer necessity, frustrated by any barrier between you. You matched his energy, your fingers clawing at his hoodie, pulling it over his head and tossing it blindly onto the carpet. You needed to feel him, all of him, right now.
He moved you with primal, unchecked strength, backing you completely against the desk. He didn't stop to hoist you by the waist. Instead, in one seamless, dominant motion, he hooked his large hands under your thighs, gripping you tightly in that soft, sensitive curve where your buttocks met your legs.
The sudden, intense pressure of his fingers dug into your skin as he used his hold on your legs to lift you effortlessly. He crowded you against the cold, hard wood of the desk, pinning your weight against it. The contrast was jarring—the icy surface against your ass and the burning heat of Hyunjin’s body trapping you.
With a swift sweep of his arm, he cleared a section of the desk, sending a hotel brochure and a notepad fluttering to the floor. He stepped between your spread legs, his rigid heat pressing directly against your soaking core through your underwear.
He looked down at you, his chest heaving, his eyes dark, wild, and completely stripped of the polished idol perfection the world knew. His long hair fell messily over his eyes.
“Look at the window,” he whispered hoarsely, his breath ragged against your ear as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tearing them down your legs. “Look at the city out there. They think they own us.”
You looked past his shoulder, seeing the glittering skyline through the glass—the very view you had just been watching from the balcony. At any moment, a manager could call. The danger of it only made your blood pump faster.
“But they don't own this” Hyunjin growled.
He didn't wait. He grabbed his sweatpants, shoving them down just enough to free his length, already fully erect and pulsing with need. He gripped your hips, his knuckles turning white from the force of his hold, and with one heavy, desperate thrust, he buried himself inside you to the top.
A sharp, loud cry tore from your throat, echoing in the room. You arched your back, your fingers digging into the hard muscles of his shoulders, your nails leaving red crescents in his skin. The sheer fullness of him, combined with the friction of the sudden entry, sent a shockwave of intense pleasure straight to your core.
Hyunjin didn't let you adjust. He began to move immediately, a fast, hard, and unforgiving rhythm. Every thrust was deep, driving you back against the desk. The wood groaned under the shifting weight, a rhythmic, illicit sound that mixed with the wet friction of your bodies sliding together and the breathless, needy gasps filling the space.
“Hyunjin... please,” you whimpered, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist to lock him closer, needing him to go deeper, harder, anything to drown out the ticking clock in your head.
“I've got you,” he panted, his pace turning frantic, almost punishing. He leaned forward, trapping you against the desk with his weight, his mouth finding your neck. He bit down on the sensitive skin near your collarbone—not enough to break the skin, but hard enough to leave a mark you’d have to hide with stage makeup tomorrow.
The pleasure was too much, building too fast in the heat of your shared desperation. Your walls clenched tightly around him, pushing him closer to the edge. Hyunjin let out a low, guttural groan at the sensation, his thrusts becoming shorter, faster, pounding into you with a wild, primal focus.
Your head rolled back, your eyes flutter to the ceiling as the friction coiled tighter and tighter inside you. You were slipping, losing control, completely consumed by the sensation of him filling you over and over again.
“Hyunjin, I'm... I'm gonna—“
“Do it,” he choked out, his voice raw. He gripped your face with one hand, forcing you to look at him as he delivered three more heavy, relentless thrusts. “Look at me when you do.”
You stared into his blown-out, dark eyes just as your climax hit you like a wave, fracturing your vision. Your muscles clamped around him in violent, pulsing waves. The tight, internal squeeze was the breaking point for him. With a ragged, broken cry of your name, Hyunjin drove into you one last time, pinning himself deep inside you as his body shook, spending himself completely inside you.
For a long time, neither of you moved.
He stayed buried within you, his forehead resting against your wet shoulder, both of your chests moving violently as you tried to catch your breath. The sweat made your skin slick where your bodies glued together.
Slowly, the frantic racing of his heart against your ribs began to slow down. The silence of the hotel room rushed back in.
Hyunjin gently pulled out, a soft groan escaping him as he stepped back to fix his clothes. He looked at you, still sitting on the edge of the desk, flushed and bare. Without a word, he reached down, picked up his discarded hoodie from the floor, and carefully draped it over your shoulders to shield you from the cold air of the room.
He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
—
Backstage after award shows never felt real.
Everything moved too fast — managers speaking over each other through headsets, stylists rushing idols in and out of changing rooms before the next camera cue, staff members carrying racks of glittering outfits down crowded hallways while exhausted artists tried not to collapse after performing. The entire building buzzed with adrenaline, but underneath all of it, you always felt strangely numb.
Maybe it was because nights like these stopped belonging to you a long time ago.
Your group had just finished performing at the awards ceremony, and even now your heartbeat still hadn’t fully settled from being on stage. The cheers from the crowd echoed faintly through the walls backstage while one of your members excitedly replayed clips from the performance on her phone.
“You looked insane during the dance break,” another member laughed from across the room.
You barely heard her.
You sat in front of the vanity mirror while a makeup artist removed the last traces of red lipstick from your mouth. The fancy dress you’d worn on stage still clung to your skin uncomfortably beneath the harsh dressing room lights. Everything smelled like hairspray and expensive perfume.
Someone mentioned another afterparty. Someone else complained about their feet hurting. Your manager stood near the door scrolling through tomorrow’s schedule.
And somehow, in the middle of all that noise, your mind drifted somewhere else entirely.
Hyunjin
You hadn’t seen him properly in weeks. Not alone. Not without cameras. Not without people watching.
There had been passing glances at music shows. Small bows exchanged backstage. Brief moments where your shoulders brushed accidentally while groups crossed paths in hallways crowded with staff.
But nothing real. Nothing that belonged to the two of you.
And maybe that was for the best. Because every time you looked at him now, it hurt in ways you didn’t know how to explain.
The door to the dressing room suddenly opened.
At first, nobody paid attention. People walked in and out constantly during award shows — stylists, managers, assistants, makeup artists.
But when the room went quiet, you looked up in the mirror instinctively.
And there he was.
Hyunjin stood near the doorway breathing slightly heavier than usual, like he’d walked too fast to get there. His stage outfit was still untouched from the performance: black fabric, silver details catching under the lights, damp strands of hair falling messily into his eyes.
He looked beautiful, but exhausted.
Your stomach tightened immediately.
One of your members blinked in surprise. “Oh.”
Hyunjin glanced around the room awkwardly before finally landing on you, and suddenly it felt difficult to breathe.
“Can I…” He hesitated slightly, voice quieter than usual. “Can I talk to her alone for a minute?”
The silence afterward felt deafening.
Your manager looked up instantly. One of your members exchanged a look with another.
Everybody knew.
Not officially. Nobody had proof. But people noticed things. The way Hyunjin’s eyes always found you first in crowded rooms. The way you became quieter whenever Stray Kids entered backstage areas. The way both of you acted just a little too careful around each other.
Still, nobody said anything.
One member stood first, grabbing her phone off the couch. “Come on,” she muttered toward the others gently. “We should probably go check if staff needs us.”
The rest followed almost immediately. Even your manager sighed before stepping out. “Five minutes,” he warned without looking directly at either of you.
Then the door shut.
And suddenly the room felt unbearably quiet.
For a few seconds, neither of you moved. You could still hear muffled noise from the hallway outside — distant laughter, footsteps, staff shouting instructions somewhere far away — but inside the dressing room, everything felt frozen.
Hyunjin stared at you like he hadn’t seen you in years instead of days.
Your chest ached instantly.
“You’re still wearing the dress,” he said softly.
You looked down briefly at the shimmering fabric before giving a small smile. “I didn’t have time to change yet.”
His eyes lingered on you for a second too long, and something about the look on his face made your stomach twist painfully.
“Hyunjin?”
He exhaled shakily.
Then suddenly laughed under his breath, but there was nothing happy about it.
“I practiced this conversation like ten times in my head,” he admitted quietly. “And now I don’t know what to say.”
You stepped closer instinctively. “What happened?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
For a moment, it looked like he might change his mind completely and leave. Then he looked at you again. Really looked at you.
And you realized immediately that he’d been crying already.
Your heart dropped.
“Hey,” you whispered, taking another step forward. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t do this anymore.”
The words came out broken.
Almost desperate.
You froze.
Hyunjin rubbed a hand over his face quickly, clearly frustrated with himself. “I thought I could,” he continued shakily. “I kept telling myself this was fine. That this is just how things have to be for us.”
He laughed bitterly again.
“But it’s not fine.”
You didn’t know what to say, because part of you understood immediately.
The secret meetings. The late-night phone calls cut short whenever schedules got too busy. The pretending. God, the pretending.
Pretending not to know each other well enough to memorize expressions. Pretending not to miss each other constantly. Pretending not to love each other in rooms full of people.
“I saw you during rehearsal earlier,” Hyunjin said quietly. “You were standing near the stage while they adjusted the lights.”
Your throat tightened.
“And all I could think about was that night.”
The memory hit you instantly.
Cold air. Rain against the balcony railing. His fingers tangled in your hair while city lights blurred somewhere far away behind mountains.
You remembered the exact way he’d looked at you that night.
“You standing there that morning outside Seoul, watching the sunrise like the world hadn’t already ruined us yet.”
A tear slipped down his cheek.
“You always told me to see you again,” he continued quietly. “Even if it was only in my wildest dreams.”
His laugh came out broken.
“And now that’s exactly where I find you all the time.”
Hyunjin looked down briefly before speaking again, softer this time.
“I see you in hindsight constantly,” he admitted. “Every late night. Every drive home after schedules. Every song I can’t finish writing because somehow it turns into you again.”
Your eyes burned immediately.
“I remember every night we stayed awake together talking until sunrise like nothing outside those rooms existed.” He swallowed hard. “Back then it felt like we could burn everything else down as long as we still had each other.”
His voice cracked completely then.
“And I know that when you leave me someday…” he whispered helplessly, like the thought alone was destroying him, “I know these memories are gonna follow me around for the rest of my life.”
You stared at him for a moment, unable to find the right words.
Your chest hurt.
“Hyunjin…” you whispered.
His eyes immediately found yours.
“We can’t keep talking about this here.”
Your voice sounded smaller than you intended.
You glanced nervously toward the door.
“At any second someone could walk in.”
He followed your gaze.
Someone laughed. A staff member called another artist’s name. The award show was still happening around you, completely unaware that your entire world felt like it was falling apart.
Then he took a shaky breath.
“Come with me.”
Your heart skipped.
“What?”
“To my dorm. We don’t have enough time here,” he admitted. “Five minutes isn’t enough. None of this fits into five minutes.”
Your throat tightened.
“Hyunjin—”
“Please.”
The desperation in his voice immediately stopped you.
He took another step closer.
“Please come with me.”
His eyes were still red from crying.
“Just come with me,” he whispered. “We can talk there.”
You stared at him for a moment.
Slowly, you nodded.
“Okay, I’ll come. But we can’t leave together. You need to leave first.”
His eyes returned to yours.
“I’ll meet you there,” you continued softly. “Give it some time so nobody gets suspicious.”
“I’ll wait for you.” he said.
You looked away first.
“Go,” you whispered. “Before someone comes back.”
Just before leaving, he glanced back. Long enough to make your heart ache.
Then he was gone.
—
The ride back felt endless. Your members talked excitedly about the performances, replaying videos from the show and laughing about small mistakes nobody in the audience had even noticed. You tried to participate whenever someone spoke to you, but your mind was somewhere else entirely.
The van finally stopped in front of your apartment building. One by one, your members got out, each heading toward the entrance until eventually only you and one of them remained. She stretched tiredly before grabbing her bag.
“Aren’t you getting out?” she asked.
You looked up quickly.
“Oh.”
For a split second, panic flashed through your chest.
“My phone.”
She frowned. “What about it?”
“I think I left it somewhere in here.”
The lie came out smoother than expected.
Immediately, she sat back down. “I’ll help you look for it.”
Your stomach dropped.
“No.”
The answer came out far too quickly.
Her eyebrows lifted, making you force a small laugh.
“It’s okay. Really. You’ve had a long day.”
“So have you.”
“I’ll find it.”
She still looked unconvinced, and for a terrifying second you thought she might stay. Instead, she sighed dramatically and grabbed her bag.
“Text me when you find it.”
“I will.”
“You better.”
You smiled. “I promise.”
Thankfully, she finally climbed out of the van. You watched her walk and disappear inside before waiting a few more seconds just to be sure.
Only when you were completely certain she was gone did you finally exhale.
The driver glanced at you through the rearview mirror.
“Did you find your phone?”
You pulled it from your pocket.
“Actually…” you said quietly. “Could you take me somewhere first?”
A few minutes later, you gave him the address.
The rest of the drive passed in nervous silence. Your heart beat harder with every street you crossed, every traffic light, every turn, until finally the van slowed to a stop.
You looked through the window.
And there he was.
Waiting.
The sight of him standing beneath the apartment building lights made something inside your chest immediately ache. Hyunjin had his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, his head lowered slightly against the cool night air. But the second he noticed the van, he looked up.
A small smile appeared on his face.
You thanked the driver quickly before stepping out into the night. The van pulled away a few moments later, leaving the two of you alone on the quiet street.
Neither of you spoke right away. After everything that had happened tonight, words suddenly felt inadequate.
Hyunjin closed the distance first, stopping only when he was standing directly in front of you.
And without another word, he gently reached for your hand before leading you toward the elevator.
Once you got to his floor, Hyunjin unlocked the door and let you step inside first.
You sat together on the couch, shoulders touching, listening to the distant sounds of the city outside.
Eventually, he broke the silence with a tired laugh.
“I think I scared you back there.”
You looked up immediately. “You didn’t.”
“I kind of did.”
A small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “You cried in my dressing room.”
“You noticed?” he teased as you let out a soft chuckle.
You stared at him for a long moment, trying to ignore the way your heart was about to explode.
“Hyunjin…” you whispered. “Really. What if people find out someday?”
His expression softened immediately.
You shook your head before he could answer.
“No, listen to me. What if they hate us for it? What if your fans are disappointed? What if mine are? What if it becomes a scandal and suddenly everything changes?”
This was the real problem. Not the distance. Not the schedules.But the thousands of people who felt entitled to have an opinion about who you loved.
“I’ve thought about that too,” he admitted quietly. “Every day, actually.”
You let out a shaky laugh.
“Then how are you still asking me to do this?”
“Because I love you.”
The answer came so quickly it almost hurt.
Hyunjin moved closer on the couch until your knees touched.
“I’m scared too,” he continued. “I’m scared people will be angry. I’m scared they’ll judge us. I’m scared we’ll have to read things about ourselves that aren’t true.”
His fingers found yours.
“ But that doesn't mean I'll stop being true to myself.”
Your eyes burned immediately.
“And if one day it becomes too much…” he said softly, “if the pressure gets too heavy, if we’re constantly hurting because of what people think…”
His voice grew quieter.
“Then we walk away. We leave before we destroy each other trying to hold on,” he continued. “Before the anger, the hate, and the pressure turn us into people we don’t recognize.”
The room was dead silent.
A tear slipped down your cheek.
“We leave while we can still look back and remember something beautiful.”
Hyunjin paused for a moment before shaking his head slightly.
“But even then, that’s not what I truly want.”His voice cracked. “God, it’s the last thing I want.”
Your chest tightened painfully.
“If we ever have to do that…” he said quietly, “it won’t be because I stopped loving you. It won’t be because I wanted someone else. It won’t be because I woke up one day and decided I was done.”
His grip on your hand tightened.
“It’ll be because we ran out of choices. And that will be the loss of my life.”
The tears in your eyes became impossible to hold back.
Hyunjin looked at you like the thought alone was breaking his heart.
“I don’t want an ending,” he admitted. “I’m asking for the opposite. I’m asking for a chance.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then you laughed weakly through your tears.
“You’re asking me to take a huge risk.”
A small smile appeared on Hyunjin’s face.
“I know.”
You looked at him. At the boy who had crossed an entire arena just to talk to you. The boy who had cried in your dressing room because he couldn’t stand pretending anymore.
And despite every reason not to, you still loved him.
Maybe that was the problem. Or maybe it was the answer.
Slowly, you reached for his face.
“Okay,” you whispered. “We’ll try.”
Hyunjin froze. For a second he just stared at you, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.
Then he smiled. The kind that belonged only to you.
And when he leaned forward to kiss you, neither of you knew what the future would look like.
