OFF THE RECORD 𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐀪 (part 5)
IN WHICH narrated scenes from my cortis texting au in which you are the 6th member !to read between the texting parts for context! brace yourself for some corny ahhh james content. And the long awaited confessions maybe who knows ?
warnings : cursing, fluff, steamy kiss, what else idk.
taglist : @pix3lkitten @raebaebears @enha7beshit @yeeyeehaw22 @snghynn @crypticscarrift @kpopsmutty69 @dina-10s-blog @baw-sixteen @arasdaydream7 @saaaaaaaai @ilovepearsss @opiumfidgetspinner
Four - six
⋆˚꩜｡ BACKSTAGE PROBLEMS
Backstage always smelled like heat. Hairspray, sweat, tangled wires, the faint scent of makeup powder sitting heavy in the air while staff rushed past with clipboards and headsets. Someone was testing stage lights nearby, flashes of white spilling through the hallway every few seconds. The bass from the opening act vibrated through the floor hard enough to feel in your ribs.
The unstopping contraction of your fist was a telltale sign of your anxiety, it wasn’t the first time you performed onstage but the knowledge that every single thing you were about to do would be scrutinized or held against you made your head hurt. Sitting there on the uncomfortable couch, you tried breathing exercises that didn’t ease the gnawing impostor syndrome that sent your heart into tachycardia.
And ontop of that your in-ear monitor still wasn’t working.
You pressed it deeper against your ear with a frown, jaw tight as static crackled again. The music in one ear kept cutting in and out, muffled one second, painfully loud the next. A stylist tried saying something to you but you barely heard it over the irritation already building in your chest.
“For fuck’s sake,” you muttered under your breath, yanking the wire loose to check the connection again.
The manager noticed immediately. “What happened?”
“It keeps dying or somethjng, i don’t know.”
“Let me see… if it doesn’t work i’ll get the sound guy.”
Before he could even step closer, James was already moving. “Wait, wait, don’t move.”
He dropped into a crouch in front of you so quickly the cord around his own neck nearly swung into your knee. His fingers wrapped carefully around the wire connected to your pack, brows pulling together with immediate concentration. The entire backstage area could’ve been on fire and he probably wouldn’t have noticed.
You stood still, still visibly annoyed, while he examined the connection like his life depended on it.
“Turn your head a little,” he murmured.
You did.
James swallowed.
Because suddenly you were close. Way too close. Close enough for him to notice the shimmer of leftover glitter near your lashes, close enough to see the tiny crease between your brows when you were irritated. He tried focusing on the cable instead of the fact your perfume was driving him insane.
You looked around the hallway, trying to find someone - anyone to look at so the moment wouldn’t be as uncomfortable.
Juhoon was leaning against a makeup station watching like it was his favorite weekly drama. Seonghyeon had already stopped checking his phone entirely.
James carefully untangled the wire near the back of your neck. “I think this part’s bent.”
His fingers brushed the underside of your jaw for half a second while moving the cable aside.
Half a second.
That was it.
But James genuinely looked like his soul left his body for a moment.
You didn’t notice. Or at least you acted like you didn’t.
He fixed the connector, plugging it back in with ridiculous care before looking up at you. “Try now.”
You pressed the monitor back into your ear.
The music came through crystal clear.
Your expression relaxed immediately. “Oh.”
James looked weirdly nervous all of a sudden. “Does it work?”
“Yeah.” You glanced down at him. “Thanks.”
Soft. Casual. Barely above the noise around you. Because there were no actual words to say what you wanted to say. And then you walked away because staff were calling everyone to standby positions.
James stayed crouched there. Completely motionless for a full five seconds while the end of your sentence replayed in his head like a love confession. He was delusional like that.
Thanks.
Not even “thank you.” Just thanks.
Soft too.
Seonghyeon stared at him in disbelief before smirking. “You got one thanks. Congratulations man.”
James had stood up, hands shifting awkwardly towards his pockets.
Juhoon snorted loudly from behind them. “Careful. He’s gonna write wedding vows tonight.”
Finally James blinked, slowly looking in the direction you disappeared.
Then, in the most genuinely awed voice imaginable, he whispered,
“And she said it softly, too.”
Seonghyeon actually had to turn away because he started laughing too hard.
⋆˚꩜｡LATE NIGHTS
The van smelled was illuminated by the dim neon signs outside of convenience stores, Seoul was calm and the vehicle was filled with silence. The air smelled like and the cheap ramen Juhoon had spilled on the floor three days ago and never properly cleaned. The kind of smell that only existed after months of schedules, cramped drives, and too many exhausted people sharing the same air every single day.
It was past midnight. Maybe closer to two in the morning, but no one had the energy to check. It had been a long week of rehearsing non-stop, leaving you all sore and exhausted.
The city outside blurred past in streaks of white headlights and orange streetlamps, reflected against the dark windows like smeared paint. Rain from earlier still clung to the glass in uneven droplets, trembling every time the van hit a bump in the road.
Everyone was dead tired.
Seonghyeon sat slumped forward with his headphones halfway off his ears, mouth slightly open. Juhoon had fallen asleep with his arms crossed like he was trying to look cool even unconscious. Someone in the front seat was quietly scrolling through videos with the brightness all the way down, whether it was Keonho or Martin it was impossible to tell in the darkness.
And James couldn’t stop looking at you.
Not obviously. He’d gotten good at hiding it months ago.
At first, it had been embarrassingly noticeable. The staring during practice. The way he’d immediately look for you after interviews. The instinctive habit of turning toward you whenever something funny happened, like your reaction mattered more than the joke itself.
Your head rested against the car window, eyes closed, earbuds dangling unplugged against your hoodie. Every few minutes, the movement of the van made your head bump softly against the glass.
Thump.
A tiny sound, barely audible really. Still, James noticed every single time.
Thump.
You’d had the worst schedule out of everyone today. Back-to-back rehearsals, a livestream, recording, then dance practice that went on way longer than management promised. He remembered watching you quietly stretch your wrist earlier when you thought nobody was paying attention. You always hid pain like it was something embarrassing.
Another bump in the road.
Your head hit the window again and James looked away immediately, jaw tightening.
It’s fine, he told himself. You’re asleep. It’s not serious.
But thirty seconds later he was still thinking about it.
Another light turned red, flooding the inside of the van with crimson from the traffic signal overhead. The vehicle slowed gently before stopping completely.
Nobody moved.
The silence felt thick and heavy with exhaustion as James glanced at you again.
Your face looked softer asleep. Less guarded. Your eyebrows weren’t slightly furrowed the way they usually were during schedules, like you were constantly bracing yourself for something. Your lips were parted faintly against the sleeve of your hoodie, breath warm enough to fog the edge of the cold window.
Then the van shifted slightly causing your head to knock against the glass again.
Before he could overthink it, James quietly pulled off his hoodie.
The air against his arms felt cold immediately, but he barely noticed. He folded the hoodie carefully, trying not to make too much noise, then leaned slightly across the seat. For half a second he hesitated. Because this was dangerous. Not the action itself but more the feeling behind it.
That terrifying softness he only ever had with you. The one that made him want to take care of things you didn’t even notice yourself. The one that made ordinary moments feel unbearably intimate.
He gently slid the hoodie between your head and the window. You shifted slightly at the movement but didn’t wake up. Your cheek settled against the fabric instead of the cold glass this time.
James immediately leaned back into his seat, his heartbeat was ridiculous and funny thing nobody noticed. No one could know.
At least he thought nobody noticed until Seonghyeon’s tired voice mumbled from the row ahead.
“You’re insane.”
James froze. Seonghyeon didn’t even open his eyes like it was an instinct for him.
“Go to sleep.” James looked away toward the window, ears burning.
The light turned green and the van started moving again.
This time your head stayed against the hoodie and for some stupid reason, that alone made something warm spread through his chest so intensely it almost hurt.
He tried not to stare after that.
Really tried.
But every few minutes his eyes drifted back toward you automatically.
Cause what if the hoodie had slipped? No really, what if?
But you were still asleep. Still holding his hoodie unconsciously near your face.
His hoodie.
The realization made his stomach twist with a sensation he hadn’t felt ever since middle school.
James remembered buying that hoodie months ago because you once offhandedly mentioned liking oversized dark clothing. You probably didn’t even remember saying it. But he did.
He noticed every thing, as if he kept a journal in his mind of all your tiny habits.
The way you always peeled the cucumber off the kimbap before eating.
The way you got quieter when you were genuinely upset.
The way you acted annoyed whenever someone worried about you, but secretly softened when people persisted anyway.
He knew your coffee order. Your favorite late-night snacks. Which side of your neck you rubbed absentmindedly when stressed.
Sometimes James wondered if loving someone silently for this long eventually became its own kind of sickness.
He was probably ill.
Because nobody told him it would feel this humiliating and this consuming to care so much about tiny things.
Like whether you were sleeping comfortably in the backseat of a van.
He really would’ve liked to get a warning but involving himself that deeply.
About twenty minutes later, the roads had gotten emptier. The city outside quieter. Most of the members were fully asleep now.
James was staring blankly out the window when he noticed movement beside him.
You shifted deeper into the seat, and then your fingers lightly grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie and pulled it closer around yourself.
James stopped breathing for a second.
It was such a tiny action.
You probably didn’t even realize how devastating it was.
⋆˚꩜｡ DUMPLINGS
The restaurant was packed enough that the windows had fogged over completely from the heat of the kitchen. Warm yellow light reflected against the glass, blurring the neon signs outside into soft streaks of color. Somewhere above the constant chatter, old mandopop played through slightly crackling speakers, quiet enough to blend into the background but loud enough that James kept absentmindedly humming parts under his breath between conversations.
Plates clinked constantly.
Servers weaved through crowded tables carrying bamboo steamers and metal teapots. The entire place smelled like chili oil, fried garlic, and fresh dumplings. It felt loud in the comfortable way. Oddly reminding you of back home except for the part where none of the cooks were actually chinese, but rather indian or pakistani.
The six of you barely fit around the circular table shoved near the back wall. Menus overlapped. Elbows bumped constantly. Juhoon was already complaining about how nobody respected his personal space despite taking up half the booth himself.
You slid into your seat first, still shrugging your jacket off.
James sat beside you immediately. Like he’d planned it before even entering the restaurant.
Martin, halfway through pouring tea into his cup, paused slowly, then looked directly at him.
“you’re actually shameless twin”
James didn’t even blink. “What? This seat had good feng shui. Leave me alone mane.”
“That’s not how that works.” Martin scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“It absolutely is.”
“You just wanted to sit next to her.” He argued.
James’ eyes widened dramatically, “Wow. Accusations during dinner dude, not nice.”
“You were literally hovering behind her waiting for her to sit down first.”
It’s your turn to roll your eyes, they always have full blown conversations about you like you’re not standing right in front of them.
Seonghyeon snorted into his drink and James ignored all of them effortlessly.
That was the thing everyone hated most about him lately. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.
At first, the members thought it was funny. The obvious crush. The constant attention. The way James somehow always ended up beside you during schedules, rehearsals, group photos, van rides, livestreams. But somewhere along the line, it stopped feeling like teasing material and started feeling dangerously real.
Like soon they’d have to fight off dating rumors and shit.
He reached for extra chopsticks automatically because he noticed yours were missing before you did. He moved the pitcher closer when your water glass got low. When the lazy susan spun too quickly and almost knocked your drink over, his hand caught the edge of your cup without interrupting his conversation. And the worst thing? He didn’t even realize he was being extra. He just naturally adopted that behavior of wanting to cater to your needs.
You didn’t even look up from the menu when James leaned slightly toward you.
“What are you getting?”
“Food probably.” You replied, a smile taunting the side of your lip.
Martin inhaled his tea wrong immediately, coughing into his sleeve.
James looked at you like you’d just said the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his entire life.
Not exaggerated either.
Actually amused.
His smile spread slowly, eyes crinkling at the corners while he lowered his head slightly toward you like he was letting you in on some private joke nobody else understood.
“Oh, she’s funny tonight.”
“You’re the only one laughing,” you mumbled, still flipping through the menu.
“Because you’re a funny girl.”
Seonghyeon physically recoiled. “Jesus christ.”
Martin pointed his chopsticks at James accusingly. “You hear yourself, right?”
James grinned lazily. “Every day.”
“You sound insane bro.”
“It’s da love that made me insane.” He simply answered, half kidding.
“You’re not in love,” Juhoon said immediately.
James looked at him blankly for half a second then calmly took a sip of tea.
“Nobody asked.”
The table erupted instantly.
“No way.”
“OH MY GOD.”
“HE ADMITTED IT?”
“WAIT WAIT SAY THAT AGAIN.”
James groaned immediately, realizing too late what he’d walked into. “That was a joke hello?.”
Martin was already half-standing over the table. “No no no. Everybody quiet. James has an announcement.”
“I hate all of you.” You rolled your eyes, unbothered.
Seonghyeon looked genuinely emotional. “After months of suffering we’re finally getting content.”
James shoved him away by the forehead while everyone laughed over each other.
And through all the chaos, your eyes finally lifted from the menu. Long enough to catch James rubbing the back of his neck with pink ears while the others yelled at him. Long enough to notice the embarrassed smile he kept trying to hide behind his hand. And for some reason, something warm flickered unexpectedly in your chest.
Cute, you thought.
⋆˚꩜｡ COLD HANDS
By the time everyone finally left the restaurant, the streets were almost empty. The warmth disappeared the second the door opened.
Cold air rushed in immediately, sharp enough to sting your face after sitting inside for so long. The windows of the restaurant stayed glowing behind you, yellow light spilling onto the wet pavement while the door kept opening and closing with groups of people laughing on their way out.
Your stomach was warm from food, but your body most definitely wasn’t.
The night air slipped straight through the oversized hoodie hanging off your frame, the restaurant smells clinging to the fabric.
Everyone gathered near the curb waiting for the ride back to the dorms.
Juhoon was arguing with Seonghyeon over who ate the last dumpling. Martin stood under the restaurant sign scrolling through his phone while complaining about the temperature every thirty seconds.
“You’re such a kid oh my.” You chucked at the sight of him, and he flicked you off playfully.
One of the managers was speaking quietly with the drivers further down the street.
And James was looking at you again. It had become almost unconscious for him now. His attention found you before anything else.Before conversations. Before noise. Before himself, honestly.
You stood slightly apart from the group near the fogged window, shoulders pulled inward against the cold. The sleeves of your hoodie already covered most of your hands, but not enough.
You rubbed your palms together once, an action that most of people wouldn’t have noticed.
James did instantly. His eyes dropped to your hands automatically, brows tightening almost invisibly.
Cold, she’s cold. He told himself.
His love language was most definitely finding solutions to even the most impossible problems you had.
You looked tired again too. Not sleepy like in the car the other day, softer now. Quiet. Your hair slightly messy from the wind outside, cheeks faintly pink from the sudden temperature change.
For one dangerous second, James had the overwhelming urge to pull you against him just to warm you up. The thought hit so suddenly he almost looked away from himself.
Instead, he stepped toward you. You barely had time to process it before he stopped directly in front of you, close enough for the cold air around you to disappear slightly behind his height.
James reached forward silently, his fingers caught the zipper of the hoodie you were wearing and your breath caught faintly in surprise.
He pulled the zipper higher carefully until the collar covered more of your neck, shielding your face slightly from the wind. Then, without saying anything, he gently tugged the sleeves farther down over your hands until your fingers disappeared completely inside them. Like taking care of you had already become muscle memory.
You blinked up at him. James finally looked back at your face after focusing entirely on fixing the sleeves.
Big mistake.
Because now you were staring at him.
Actually staring, not annoyed, not brushing him off. Not rolling your eyes at his flirting. Just looking at him quietly like you were trying to understand something.
And suddenly James became hyperaware of everything. How close he was standing and how cold the air felt against the back of his neck. How your face was half hidden inside your hoodie and how badly he wanted to touch your freezing hands directly instead of through fabric.
“You’re cold too,” you said softly.
James shrugged immediately. “I’m good.”
And for the first time in weeks, James couldn’t read your expression immediately. That scared him more than rejection ever had. Because there had been a shift lately, a Tiny one. Almost invisible.
You let him sit next to you now.
You wore his hoodies around the dorms without complaining. You looked for him first in rooms sometimes without realizing it.
And moments like this kept happening where you’d go strangely quiet afterward, like something in your head was slowly rearranging itself every time he cared about you too openly.
James wondered constantly if he was imagining it. If he was just so hopelessly in love with you that he’d started creating meaning out of crumbs.
Then Martin’s voice shattered the moment completely. Fucking Martin.
“SHE’S NOT LET YOU CRACK, BRO.”
James didn’t even flinch. Didn’t look away from you either, that was the worst part.
“Shutup kid.” You didn’t even bother looking at Martin as you flicked him off.
⋆˚꩜｡ LETS GET OUTTA HERE
It was one of those tiny neighborhood stores still open past midnight, tucked between apartment buildings and washed in harsh white lighting that made everyone look more tired than they already were.
James had only come because you said you needed “real food” after schedules instead of another protein bar from the dorm.
Now he stood near the instant ramen section pretending to look at cup noodles while secretly watching you from two aisles over.
Again.
Always.
You were crouched in front of the drink refrigerators comparing labels with a small basket hanging from your wrist, brows slightly furrowed in concentration like choosing between two flavored teas was a life-altering decision. You looked so silly his heart almost burst. James smiled faintly to himself.
You did that with everything. Overthought tiny choices but acted careless about important ones.
The sleeves of one of his jackets swallowed your hands completely. You’d stolen it days ago at this point and neither of you had acknowledged the fact it never returned to him.
Not that he wanted it back.
Honestly, seeing you wear his clothes did something deeply humiliating to his mental stability.
James leaned against the shelf quietly, eyes drifting back toward you again. Then his expression changed immediately.
A group of guys had entered the store.
Maybe college-aged. Too loud and way too comfortable.
James noticed them before they even reached your aisle because one of them looked at you instantly upon entering. One after the other they looked. That specific kind of staring.
The kind women noticed immediately because they had to. The kind men noticed too late because they never learned to look for it.
James’ jaw tightened.
You were still focused on the drinks, seemingly oblivious, but he saw the tiny shift in your shoulders once the group passed behind you with shameless comments that James couldn’t quite hear.
That made something hot twist sharply in his chest. One of the guys slowed slightly while walking past and another glanced back again.
James was already moving before he fully thought about it.
He crossed the aisle quickly and stopped beside you. Close enough that your shoulders almost touched.
You looked up immediately, surprised as James took the basket gently from your hand.
“Let’s go.”
You blinked at him. “What?”
“Come on.” He wrapped a hand around your elbow.
His voice was calm way Too calm, no signs of playfulness or teasing.
Your eyebrows pulled together slightly as you stood up slowly. James kept himself positioned between you and the group automatically, eyes flicking toward them once before looking away again. The atmosphere around him had changed completely.
Protective and sharp, and you noticed immediately.
James walked toward the register without another word, basket still in hand. You followed beside him quietly, confused more than anything.
Only when you reached the front did you glance behind you and notice one of the guys still looking over.
Your stomach twisted faintly.
Oh.
The cashier scanned the drinks while James stood there expressionless, fingers tapping once against the counter impatiently. He didn’t relax until the two of you were fully outside again, cold night air hitting your faces the second the automatic doors slid shut behind you.
The streets were quieter now. Mostly empty.
The convenience store light glowed harshly against the dark sidewalk while cars passed occasionally in the distance.
James handed you the drink bag finally. Then muttered under his breath, “They were being weird.”
You looked at him. “You noticed?”
James turned toward you immediately, brows knitting together like the question itself didn’t make sense. “Of course I noticed.” Like paying attention to you that closely was the most natural thing in the world.
And suddenly you couldn’t breathe properly for a second. It was the way he said it that did it for you.
No performance. No flirting, just certainty. As if the idea of not noticing something that made you uncomfortable was impossible to him.
Your chest tightened strangely and James started walking again beside you, unaware of the effect he’d just had.
The two of you walked quietly down the dim sidewalk, your shoes scraping softly against pavement still damp from earlier rain. Apartment lights glowed above you in scattered windows. Somewhere nearby, a motorcycle passed loudly before disappearing into the distance again.
You kept stealing glances at him. At the slight tension still sitting in his jaw. At the way he stayed closer to the street side while walking beside you. At the faint irritation lingering in his expression even several minutes later.
He was still upset about it.
Not because someone looked at him wrong. Because someone looked at you wrong.
And for some reason, that realization settled heavily inside your chest in a way you couldn’t explain : you were used to attention. Used to people staring. Used to ignoring uncomfortable things because making a scene only made everything worse.
But nobody had ever looked angry on your behalf before. Nobody had ever noticed so quickly.
It was so stupid really,so much so that you forced to forget about it before it really got to you.
James suddenly glanced down at you mid-thought. “You okay?”
There it was again, that immediate concern, so automatic it almost seemed unconscious now.
“Yeah,” you answered quietly.
James studied your face for another second like he was checking whether you actually meant it.
Then he nodded once.
⋆˚꩜｡ BREAK ROOM
The company break room looked like a disaster.
Empty drink cups covered the table, takeout containers were stacked dangerously high beside the microwave, and someone had abandoned a single sock near the couch three days ago that nobody wanted to claim. It was almost midnight, which meant everyone had entered that weird exhausted state where absolutely nothing was funny anymore somehow made everything hysterical.
You sat slouched into the couch scrolling mindlessly through your phone, legs tucked underneath you, fried rice balanced dangerously close to falling off your lap.
James sat directly beside you despite there being plenty of space elsewhere.
Obviously.
One arm rested behind the couch while the other held his ipad horizontally like a ten-year-old at an airport.
Tiny cartoon fighting noises blasted from the speakers every few seconds.
You glanced sideways. “…are you playing a dragon game on roblox?”
James didn’t look up. “Watch your tone. This is strategy.”
Onscreen, a tiny animated block creature exploded into sparkles.
Juhoon looked over from the beanbag chair, horrified. “Youre playing that game again?”
“It updated.”
“You are twenty you cornball.”
“And winning.”
Keonho sat nearby on a sad-looking foldable chair eating noodles straight from the container with complete emotional detachment, watching the entire conversation unfold like a disappointed father of six.
Meanwhile Seonghyeon was fully laid across the second couch with his hood over his face pretending to sleep despite reacting to every conversation.
Martin suddenly walked into the room holding an iced americano and way too much confidence. Nobody acknowledged him.
That should’ve been the first warning sign.
Martin looked around slowly at everyone scattered across the room. Then silently propped his phone against a tissue box.
You narrowed your eyes immediately. “What are you doing.”
“No questions. This calls for content.”
“That answer made it worse.” Martin ignored you completely and walked backward into frame. His phone camera was clearly recording now.
Juhoon lowered his own phone slowly. “Dude it’s midnight please gimme a break.”
The faint sound of a trending tiktok children song remix started playing from Martin’s speakers.
Keonho sighed instantly. “Absolutely not.”
Martin pointed dramatically at the camera then he began dancing. Doing that weird thing with his legs dangling, like an awkward wooden stick.
Not even ironically bad. Genuinely horrific rhythm.
His limbs moved like disconnected wifi signals. At one point he almost slipped on an empty sauce packet but somehow incorporated it into the dance without breaking eye contact with the camera.
Juhoon immediately lost it. “Dude please sit down you’re doing too much.”
You folded forward laughing into your food container while James finally looked up from his ipad with an expression of genuine concern.
“What is he doing with his legs.”
“Just doing random bullshit line always,” Seonghyeon mumbled from under his hood.
Martin kept dancing anyway, fully committed now. Then he suddenly pointed toward the couch behind him, clearly trying to include everyone casually in the background of the tiktok.
Unfortunately, this only made the video worse because it included Keonho staring blankly into space mid-bite like he regretted debuting. Juhoon looking aggravated, Seonghyeon lying motionless. And James completely ignoring all of it because he’d gone back to aggressively tapping his ipad screen again.
Martin stopped dancing abruptly. Pointed at James.
“BRO YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO LOOK FUN.”
James held one finger up without glancing away from the game. “Wait.”
Tiny explosion sounds.
“Okay what.”
Martin stared at him. “Bruh nevermind, you’re literally an ipad kid.”
James gasped softly like he’d been shot. “That’s crazy because somebody here just hit the woah in May 2026. And that wasn’t me you nasty chud.”
Seonghyeon finally sat up just to yell, “HE GOT YOU BAD.”
Martin looked genuinely offended. “The woah is timeless.”
“No it’s unemployed af, let it go. You got a job now big guy.” you said.
Martin pointed aggressively at you. “Why are YOU talking. You still type “HELP” when you laugh. Winning the cringe asf competition here.”
“Cause i do need help.” You said dryly.
James leaned toward you slightly without taking his eyes off the ipad. “No no she’s right. Sometimes things are so funny you need medical attention.”
You nodded seriously. “Exactly.”
Martin stared at both of you for a long moment. Then looked at Keonho. “Do they share a braincell.”
Keonho took another bite of noodles. “Unfortunately.”
Martin grabbed his phone dramatically. “Fine. Since none of you appreciate me enough, I’m posting this anyway.”
“No WAIT,” Juhoon wheezed suddenly. “Zoom in on James.”
Martin looked down at the footage. The entire room gathered instinctively around the phone.
The video was already atrocious. But the funniest part was absolutely James in the background. While everyone else looked chaotic and loud, James sat beside you completely locked into his game with intense concentration, occasionally feeding you pieces of orange chicken absentmindedly without looking away from the screen once.
“Oh my man looks ROUGH.” Martin chuckled.
Silence hit the room for half a second as he zoomed in on his hand.
“BRO IS MULTITASKING.”
James finally looked up. Then immediately froze after seeing the screen. Because you were sitting there unconsciously leaning into his side while accepting food from him like it was the most normal thing in the world.
The room went feral.
“Oh my GOD.”
“HE’S DOWN HORRENDOUS.”
“THIS IS INSANE.”
“MARRIED COUPLE ACTIVITIES ”
James’ ears turned red instantly.
Meanwhile you stared at the video for two seconds before realizing something horrifying.
“Wait what the fuck.”
Everyone looked at you. “You fed me three wings and I didn’t even notice.”
James blinked once, then grinned slowly. “Damn. My nurturing aura is powerful.”
⋆˚꩜｡ MARTIN’S SLEEPING PROBLEMS
Martin had developed a new personality trait on tour.
Uncontrollable sleep.
It was not subtle, definitely not gradual. More like instant.
Like that time in the break room.
The break room was unusually quiet for once, just the low hum of vending machines and the distant sound of someone microwaving something aggressively suspicious.
Martin had announced he was “just sitting for a second.”
That was his first mistake.
Now he was folded into the smallest couch in existence, one leg hanging off, head tilted back at an angle that defied human anatomy.
Juhoon walked in, stopped, and stared.
“…is he dead?”
You looked up from your phone. “No, that’s just his natural form.”
Seonghyeon poked Martin’s arm once.
No response.
Seonghyeon poked again, harder and Martin made a noise like a dying modem but did not wake up.
James, sitting on the armrest of the couch beside you, leaned forward slightly.
“Let him charge.”
Martin suddenly made a weird noise once, loud enough to scare himself awake for half a second before immediately falling back asleep mid-sit-up.
Nobody said anything for three seconds. Then Juhoon whispered, “That was actually impressive.”
The other time was in the tour bus, it was dim, curtains half closed, streetlights sliding across the windows like slow motion flashes.
You were playing a game of mario kart with James and Juhoon, and Martin was sitting upright in his seat, determined to stay awake this time. He dropped small comments from time to time as if to assure himself he was awake.
You knew it wasn’t gonna last.
Ten minutes later, his head slowly tilted sideways. Hit the window and bounced back.
He tried to correct it, ended up missing completely and leaned onto Keonho’s shoulder instead.
Keonho froze. Slowly looked down at him.
“…why tf is he like this.”
Martin mumbled something that sounded like “five more minutes of capitalism” and immediately went limp.
Keonho did not move for the rest of the ride. From his side, James glanced back and saw you laughing silently into your sleeve.
He leaned slightly toward you. “Don’t wake him.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
You were absolutely going to.
The hotel pool was supposed to be a “relaxation break.”
It lasted seven minutes total.
Martin showed up first wearing sunglasses indoors like a man on a mission. He lasted approximately 7 minutes before sitting on the edge of the pool “to cool his feet.”
Then he stopped moving. Just… stopped.
Seonghyeon squinted. “Is he meditating?”
Juhoon threw a ball at him. No reaction.
You leaned over the edge. “Martin?” Still nothing.
James, already waist-deep in the water, looked up at him once.
“…he’s doing it again.”
Martin slowly slid sideways. Just quietly tipping over into Keonho’s lap like gravity had finally won. Keonho immediately caught him, horrified. “WHY AM I ALWAYS THE LANDING PAD.”
You lost it. Like fully collapsed laughing into the pool edge while Seonghyeon tried not to slip from laughing too hard himself.
James swam closer, resting his arms on the edge beside you as he glanced at Martin then at you.
“…we should leave him there.”
⋆˚꩜｡ FAN SIGN
The fan sign hall was bright in that almost artificial way, rows of soft white lights reflecting off the long tables lined with albums, photocards, markers, and small piles of gifts already accumulating despite it only being halfway through the event.
There was a constant hum of excitement from fans moving forward in small waves, managers guiding flow, the soft scratching of pens as signatures filled page after page. Every member had settled into their rhythm by now, alternating between focused signing and short conversations that came out naturally.
You were mid-conversation with a girl in front of you, her hands tightly holding her album like it might disappear if she relaxed even slightly.
She was talking quickly, excited but nervous, stumbling over her words a little as she showed you a page she had decorated.
You smiled softly, nodding along as you signed carefully in the corner of her photo card.
“It looks really good,” you said, pushing the album back toward her gently. “You did all this yourself?”
She nodded fast, cheeks red. “I stayed up all night for it.”
“That’s insane dedication,” you laughed lightly. “I respect it though.”
Her shoulders visibly relaxed at that, smile widening. “You’re really my biggest inspiration Y/N, you’re like so so so insanely cool, i love your style.”
You smiled widely, oh god you wanted to cry in that moment, you felt so loved and seen. “Thank you! That’s so nice of you, i love your outfit by the way, so pretty.”
In the corner of your vision, the line kept moving.
Martin was loudly complimenting someone’s phone case. Juhoon was joking with a fan who had brought an absurdly detailed sign. Seonghyeon was carefully reading a long letter with exaggerated seriousness like it was a legal document.
And James—
James was just a few seats away. At first, you weren’t really paying attention.
Until you were.
It wasn’t anything dramatic. Just him leaning forward slightly across the table, listening closely to a fan speaking with shaking hands. He nodded once, calm and attentive, pen paused in his hand while the fan said something too quickly to fully catch.
Then she hesitated, held out her hand shyly across the table as a simple request.
You didn’t hear the words, but you didn’t need to cause James looked at her for half a second then gently reached out and took her hand with a careful grip.
The fan immediately broke into a huge smile, almost overwhelmed, and James gave a small reassuring nod while still holding her hand for a brief moment before letting go so she could calm down enough to continue speaking.
He went back to signing right after like it was completely normal.
Like nothing had just shifted in the air at all.
You blinked once, your pen paused on the album in front of you.
The girl you were speaking to noticed your attention drift for a second and quickly waved her hands slightly.
“Oh sorry, am I talking too much?”
You snapped back instantly, smiling again. “No, you’re fine. Im sorry, I’m listening.”
You signed the last corner of her album carefully and pushed it back toward her as she continued speaking. You listened attentively, not letting anything ruin her moment.
“Thank you for coming today,” you added gently when her time was over.
She bowed slightly, still glowing, and moved away with shaky excitement.
The next fan stepped forward but your attention didn’t fully reset. Because your eyes kept flicking sideways without permission.
James was still signing, still talking to fans, still doing exactly what he always did. Polite. Focused. Warm in a way that made people feel seen without overwhelming them. Funny even.
Another fan leaned forward, showing him something on her phone and he laughed softly at something she said.
Then another small interaction, normal, professional. Perfectly fine. Except your brain had decided to replay that earlier moment again anyway.
You weren’t sure why it stuck. It wasn’t even unusual for idols to do fan service like that. Holding hands during events wasn’t rare when fans asked politely, especially in controlled settings like this. You knew that. Logically.
Still, your gaze drifted back again when the next fan stepped in front of him.
James looked up at the same time. For a brief second, his eyes flicked across the table across the space until they landed landed on you.
You didn’t look away fast enough and neither did he. It lasted maybe a second too long but not enough for anyone else to notice. But enough that something subtle passed through his expression. Something unreadable, softened at the edges, before he turned back to the fan in front of him and continued signing as if nothing happened.
You lowered your gaze back to the album in front of you.
Whatever the fuck that was.
⋆˚꩜｡ ALMOST?
Half-folded clothes sat on the chair. A mug you forgot to wash two days ago rested near your desk. A lamp flickered slightly if you tapped the base too hard. The window was cracked open just enough to let in cold air that didn’t fully commit to being winter yet. Your room felt undoubtedly lived in.
James was sitting on your bed like he belonged there. That was the weird part.
Not because he was doing anything strange. He wasn’t. He was just leaning back against your pillows, one knee up, scrolling through something on his phone while occasionally reacting under his breath like whatever he was watching mildly offended him.
It was normal and casual. You always hung out like this. That was what made it feel off in a way you couldn’t fully explain.
You were sitting on the edge of your bed with your legs tucked under you, pretending to focus on a random show you weren’t actually watching. The TV was on, volume low, just filling space so the silence didn’t get ideas.
It didn’t help much though.
James laughed once at his phone, short and quiet.
“You’re actually watching that?” you asked without looking at him.
He didn’t look up either. “Its educational.”
“No the fuck it’s not.” You snorted glancing at him briefly.
He finally looked up at the same time, like he had felt it and here was a second where neither of you spoke.
Then he went back to his phone like nothing had happened.
But your attention didn’t fully return to the TV, it kept drifting.
To the way he was sitting there like this was the most natural place in the world for him to be. Like your dorm room was just another stop in his day. Like it had always been this way. It hadn’t. You knew it hadn’t.
But lately, your brain kept trying to rewrite things like it had.
The room was warm in an overwhelming way. Not from heating. Just from proximity. From having another person there long enough that the space adjusted around them.
James shifted slightly, stretching one leg out before resting his arm back against the bed. His t-shirt rode up a little.
You noticed stupid things like that now but god you didn’t mean to.
You just did.
“Are you gonna to sit there all night?” you asked, trying to sound casual.
“Maybe,” he said.
“Why.”
He finally looked over at you properly. “Because dont have anywhere else to be right now,” he said simply.
You nodded once like that made sense, even though something about it landed heavier than it should have.There was a pause after that. Long enough that the TV stopped being background noise and became just silence with images moving in it.
You adjusted your position slightly on the bed, pulling your knees closer and James noticed.
“You’re tired,” he said after a moment.
“I’m fine.”
“You always say that.”
“That’s because it’s usually true.” A faint breath left him, almost a laugh, but not quite. He set his phone down beside him on the bed.
Now he was fully looking at you, no distraction and the shift was small but immediate. The air felt different without anything visibly changing.
You looked back at him.
And suddenly neither of you was doing the normal version of this anymore. No joking, no background noise, no easy rhythm of friends just passing time.
Just eye contact that lasted way too long.
James leaned back slightly, bracing one hand behind him. But it didn’t create distance, it somehow made him feel closer.
“You been weird lately,” you said quietly before you could stop yourself.
His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Weird how.”
You hesitated. “Just weird.”
That earned you a curious look. Like he was trying to figure out if you were teasing or actually noticing something real.
Neither of you moved and the TV kept playing something irrelevant. At some point, James shifted again, this time sitting a little more upright on your bed.
And that was when it happened.
The moment when you were certain to your core that you wanted to kiss that man.
Just by him looking at you while you were looking back, both of you suddenly too aware of the space between the bed and the edge, between your voice and his, between what this was supposed to be and what it kept threatening to become when no one was talking.
It wasn’t touching and it wasn’t necessarily anything. But it felt like it could become something if either of you had less self control. Your fingers tightened slightly around your sleeve without you noticing. Because the way his eyes trailed down to your lips was anything but innocent. He wanted to pin you on the mattress right in that moment, finally taste your words and your rejection, prove to you and himself that there was actually something there, and it wasn’t just him going insane.
James saw your chest move irregularly, he wanted to have his hand there, be able to touch you without it being weird. He licked his lower lip, fighting the need to catch your lips into a feverish kiss.
Then your phone buzzed somewhere on the bed. The sound broke it instantly.
James looked away first.
You did too a second later, reaching for your phone like nothing had happened.
The TV kept playing.
And James picked his phone back up.
The room went back to being just your dorm again.
⋆˚꩜｡ DRUNK AND NASTY
The common room of the dorm had that late-night energy where everything felt a little too loud and a little too honest.
The overhead lights were dimmed, but not enough to make it cinematic, just enough to make everyone look slightly tired and slightly unhinged at the same time. Someone had pushed the couch forward to face the low table, and snacks were scattered everywhere like the room had given up on being clean.
The older members ( you and James ) had somehow acquired alcohol from somewhere no one questioned too closely. Nothing excessive, just enough to loosen the edges of exhaustion.
Martin was already on his second wave of chaotic confidence while Seonghyeon had leaned back like a grandpa. Juhoon was laughing at something that stopped being funny ten minutes ago and Keonho was just shaking his head repeatedly with not much sense to it.
You were sitting cross-legged on the floor near the couch, half wrapped in a blanket you didn’t remember taking, warmth settling into you in a way that made everything feel a little softer than usual.
James was on the armrest behind you, relaxed in that quiet way he got when he wasn’t actively performing for the world. The conversation kept bouncing around the room in unpredictable directions.
Martin was currently explaining a completely made-up conspiracy theory about airport food.
“No, I’m telling you,” he said seriously, pointing at Juhoon with a snack chip, “they charge extra for water because they know we’re dehydrated and vulnerable.”
“That’s just capitalism,” Seonghyeon said.
“Exactly,” Martin nodded. “That’s my point twinski.”
Juhoon laughed so hard he almost dropped his drink. “You are not serious.”
“I am the most serious person alive.”
Keonho leaned forward, matter-of-factly hitting the nerd emoji. “ Fun fact you once tried to microwave ice.”
“That was science.”
The room erupted again. You laughed into your sleeve, shoulders shaking slightly, the kind of laughter that didn’t require effort anymore. The alcohol wasn’t strong enough to make you lose control, just enough to make everything feel lighter at the edges.
James glanced down at you from the armrest.
“You good?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” you said, still smiling. “It’s funny.”
He hummed like he didn’t fully believe you but accepted it anyway.
The conversation moved on without warning, as it always did. Someone changed topic, someone argued, someone started reenacting choreography in the middle of the room for no reason at all.
Time blurred.
Eventually, the group began breaking off. Martin declared he was “emotionally exhausted from existing” and disappeared toward his room. Seonghyeon followed after a few more minutes of refusing to admit he was tired. Juhoon left mid-joke, still laughing at himself.
The common room slowly emptied until it was just scattered silence and half-finished drinks.
And you.
And James.
You stayed sitting on the floor longer than you meant to.
Your head felt light in a way that made movement feel slightly delayed, like your thoughts had to catch up to your body.
James had already stood up from the armrest and was picking up empty cups without saying anything, the automatic kind of movement that came from living together too long.
“You’re quiet,” he said after a while.
You looked up at him from the floor.
“I’m not quiet.”
A pause and hen he gave you a look that said he was not arguing that.
“You should sleep,” he added.
You nodded slowly. “Yeah.” But you didn’t move immediately.
That was the problem.
Your body didn’t fully agree with your intentions right away. James noticed the delay.
He stopped cleaning for a second. “I’ll walk you back.”
You shook your head slightly, giggling. “It’s fine, I can go.”
But when you tried to stand, you were a fraction slower than usual, and your balance wasn’t quite as sharp, James was instantly beside you.
Not grabbing you but just there, ready in case you were to fall.
“You’re not fine,” he said, not harsh, just factual.
You looked at him for a second too long. “I am,” you said again, softer this time.
But it didn’t sound convincing even to you. James didn’t push, never really did. Instead, he just stayed close enough to make sure you didn’t fall as you started walking toward the hallway.
The dorm felt quieter now as You stopped outside your room.
James was about to say something, probably something normal, probably something simple.
But you didn’t go inside, you just stood there. Looking at him.
That pause lasted longer than it should have and then you turned slightly.
“James,” you said.
He looked at you immediately, that attention always came too fast.
You swallowed and your words didn’t come out the way you planned them, they rarely did when you were like this. “I think…” you started, then stopped, then laughed once under your breath like it didn’t matter, like it was funny, like it wasn’t sitting in your chest for weeks.
“I think I… I don’t know,” you said, then shook your head slightly like you were trying to reset your thoughts. “It’s stupid.”
“It’s not,” he said immediately.
That did it because something in your control slipped. You stepped a little closer without fully realizing.
Your voice dropped, softer now, messy around the edges. “I notice you too much,” you said.
James didn’t respond.
You kept going before you could stop yourself.“When you’re not talking and you still feel loud anyway. And when you look at me like you’re about to say something but you don’t. And when you sit next to me like it’s normal but it feels like…” you stopped, breath uneven, frustrated with your own inability to make it make sense.
His mouth opened slightly. Then closed again.
You frowned, suddenly unsure. “What?” you asked, softer now. “Did I say something weird?”
“You’re…” he started, then stopped, blinking once like he needed to reset. “You’re not okay right now.”
“I am okay,” you said immediately, then squinted at him. “I think. Mostly.”
James exhaled slowly through his nose, one hand briefly going to the back of his neck like he was trying to ground himself.
“No,” he said, quieter. “You’re not thinking straight.”
You tilted your head. “I am thinking straight,” you insisted, then immediately lost your point mid-sentence. “Well, like, mostly straight. Like… ninety percent straight thinking.”
That made him close his eyes for a second. Not amused or annoyed just overwhelmed. And when he opened them again, he looked at you more carefully, assessing.
“You don’t remember what you’re saying right now,” he said gently.
You blinked at him thhen paused, your confidence dipping slightly. “…I do,” you said, but it came out less certain.
James stayed put in front of you, steady, not moving closer anymore than he already was.
“You’re drunk,” he said again, softer this time. He was more or less saying that to himself.
“You said that already.”you hiccuped.
“You’re more drunk than you think.” That landed slowly.
You looked down at your hands again like they might confirm or deny it and a quiet beat passed for your shoulders to then slump slightly.
“…oh,” you mumbled.
More confusion settled as James watched your expression shift while the comical realization caught up with you. The way your earlier intensity faded into something quieter and a little embarrassed.
You leaned back slightly against the wall, blinking slowly.
“I think I talked a lot,” you said, suddenly small.
“You did,” James answered carefully.
You made a small sound like that was inconvenient information, then you rubbed your face lightly with your sleeve, forgetting halfway through that your blanket was still hanging off your shoulder.
James immediately adjusted it without thinking, pulling it back up around you properly.
That small action made you pause and you looked at him again.
“Was it weird? What i said?” you asked again, slower.
James hesitated, then shook his head slightly.“No,” he said. Then, more honestly: “Just not something you needed to be saying like this.”
You frowned slightly, but didn’t argue, instead, you just nodded once, slow.
“…okay.”
James studied you for a second longer, then straightned up fully, he offered you his hand.
“Come on,” he said gently. “I’ll get you to bed.”
You looked at it for a moment and then took it without protest this time. And as he helped you up, your earlier words didn’t return in full sentences anymore.
Just fragments. Lost somewhere in the space between too much honesty and not enough sobriety.
Stupid silly girl.
Morning light leaked through the tiny gap in your curtains, cutting across the bed in a pale stripe. Your head throbbed faintly, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you about the alcohol from last night. Your mouth felt dry. One of your socks was missing. And someone’s arm was heavy across your waist.
You frowned before your eyes even opened properly.
Warm and breathing, definitely not a pillow.
The memories came back in broken flashes. The other members drinking in the common room. You laughing too loudly at something that wasn’t even funny. James following you around the entire night because apparently drunk-you couldn’t walk in a straight line without almost dying. Him taking your glass away at some point. You whining about it. Then your room. Nothing more?
You cracked one eye open slowly. James was asleep beside you.
Actually asleep. Fully passed out, face buried halfway into your pillow, dark hair flattened in random directions. His hoodie sleeve was pushed up slightly, fingers loosely curled into the fabric of your shirt like he’d fallen asleep mid-thought. His lips were parted a little, breathing slow and warm against your shoulder. You stared at him blankly for a few seconds.
Because James never slept deeply around people. Ever. He was the type to wake up at the smallest sound, always alert, always half-aware. But now he was completely unconscious beside you, dead asleep like he’d belonged there the whole night.
Your stomach twisted strangely. You shifted carefully, and his grip tightened instinctively before loosening again.
“…don’t move,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep.
You froze immediately but his eyes still stayed closed.
“You’re awake,” you whispered.
A pause.
“…unfortunately.”
Despite yourself, you snorted softly.
James finally opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight. He looked confused for exactly three seconds before realization hit him all at once. You literally watched the memories load into his brain.
His entire face went still. “Oh.”
“You fell asleep.”
“I noticed.” he deadpanned, trying to forget about the fact that he was currently in the bed of the woman he had been pursuing for months.
“You’re in my bed.”
“Yeah this one’s kinda hard to miss.” James chuckled.
You rolled your eyes weakly, but your voice came out quieter than usual. “Why are you holding my shirt?”
James looked down at his hand like he genuinely hadn’t realized. Then, without shame whatsoever, he said, “You kept trying to leave.”
“What?”
“You were drunk,” he said, still half-asleep. “You said you needed water, then tried to walk into the wall.”
“I did not.”
“You did. Twice.”
Your face burned immediately.
James closed his eyes again, sinking deeper into the pillow. “Then you made me sit with you because you said the room was spinning.”
“That sounds fake.”
“You also cried because your charger wasn’t plugging in.”
Silence.
“…it wouldn’t go in.”
“You were holding it upside down.”
You covered your face with both hands instantly. “Oh my fucking god.”
A sleepy laugh left him, quiet and breathy, not teasing nor mean. Just genuinely fond.
And that somehow made it worse. You peeked at him through your fingers. “Why didn’t you just leave after I fell asleep?”
James looked at you for a second. A long second. His expression softened in that dangerous way he only got when he forgot to hide things properly.
“You grabbed me,” he said quietly. “Didn’t really have a choice.”
Your heartbeat stumbled. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of you moved after that. The room stayed warm and messy and silent except for the distant noise of people moving around somewhere else in the dorm. James looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept properly in weeks, but here he was completely relaxed beside you.
Then he suddenly frowned. “You’re staring at me.”
“You’re in my bed.”
“You said that already.”
“And you’re still here.”
James pulled the blanket higher lazily. “You kicking me out?”
You opened your mouth and closed it again.
Because honestly? Not really.
⋆˚꩜｡ MARTIN’S SHITTY ADVICES
“You’re being weird,” Martin said immediately.
You looked up from your phone. “I literally just sat down. The fuck do you want?”
“Exactly. Quietly.” He pointed his fork at you from across the table. “That’s how I know something’s wrong. You’re always like an elephant, stomping around and shit.”
You rolled your eyes and grabbed one of his fries anyway. The cafeteria was mostly empty this early, just a few staff members walking around and two trainees arguing over protein shakes in the corner.
Martin narrowed his eyes. “Did you cry?”
“Fuck no.”
“Did you cry?” He repeated.
“No.”
“…did you hook up with James?”
You almost choked on the fry.
Martin’s jaw dropped dramatically. “OH MY GOD?”
“No! Shut up. Are these really the only two options?”
“WAIT SO SOMETHING DID HAPPEN.”
“Nothing happened,” you hissed, glancing around instantly.
Martin leaned across the table so fast his chair squeaked. “You look like somebody in a coming-of-age film right now. Like actually sick as fuck.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me. Continue.”
You groaned and dropped your forehead onto the table for a second before mumbling, “I think I might like him.”
Silence. Martin slapped both hands over his mouth. “Oh thats lowkey cataclysmic.”
You kicked his leg under the table.
“OW— no wait, this is insane. YOU? Liking James?” He stared at you like you’d announced the apocalypse. “The same James you used to call annoying?”
“He is annoying.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m literally not.”
“You literally are. Your ears are pink. Oh my god.” He looked genuinely delighted now. “This is better than TV bro.”
You covered your face. “I don’t even know when it happened.”
Martin immediately switched into fake therapist mode, sitting back with crossed arms. “And when did you first notice these… feelings.”
“Ew don’t talk like that.”
“Answer the question. I don’t know why you’re trying to act nonchalant.”
You sighed heavily. “I don’t know. He’s just…” You stopped, frowning slightly. “Different lately.”
Martin snorted. “No, he’s been obsessed with you since like birth. His mama brought him to life and first thing he said was your name.”
“That’s not what I mean, stupid gooner.”
“Then what do you mean?”
You stared down at your drink, turning the straw slowly between your fingers. “He pays attention to everything.” Your voice got quieter without you meaning it to. “Like weird details. Stuff I don’t even notice about myself.” You paused. “And he looks at me like I’m saying something important even when I’m literally just talking nonsense.”
Martin blinked once. Then twice. “Oh you’re GONE gone.”
“Shut up fat ass.”
“No because this is crazy. You used to look at him like he was a mosquito.”
You groaned again. “I thought it was never gonna happen, okay? Like genuinely. I thought he was attractive obviously but—”
“Obviously,” Martin repeated dramatically.
“But I didn’t think I’d actually like…” You exhaled sharply. “care.”
Martin watched you for a second before smirking slowly. “Did something happen last night?”
You immediately looked away and that was enough.
Martin slammed both hands onto the table. “OH MY GOD YOU TWO DID SOMETHING.”
“WE DIDN’T.”
“Then why are you acting like the female lead after episode eight you goofy ahhh.”
You buried your face in your hoodie sleeve.
“He slept in my bed.”
Martin froze. “…shiiiii”
“Nothing happened,” you repeated quickly. “I got drunk and he stayed with me and we fell asleep.”
Martin stared at you in complete silence for a solid five seconds. Then he whispered, horrified, “That man is never recovering from this. I’m 100% sure he woke up with eternal morning wood.”
You laughed despite yourself. And Martin pointed at you immediately. “SEE? LOOK AT YOU SMILING.”
“I’m not smiling.”
“You look disgustingly happy right now actually.”
You tried to hide it by taking another sip of your drink, but it was useless. Because the second you thought about James half-asleep beside you that morning, holding onto your shirt like he didn’t even realize he was doing it your stomach flipped again.
Martin saw your expression and leaned back in his chair slowly.
“Oh wow,” he muttered. “Chat, you’re cooked.”
⋆˚꩜｡ FINA-FUCKING-LY
“You seriously don’t get it, do you?”
James’ voice echoed sharply through the practice room.
The others had left almost twenty minutes ago after the tension got too uncomfortable to ignore. The argument had started slowly, liking him had turned you into a confrontational bitch. Now it was just the two of you standing on opposite sides of the room, the mirrors reflecting the disaster back at yourselves.
You crossed your arms tighter. “Get what?”
“The fact you keep acting like I’m insane for caring about you.”
You laughed once, short and humorless. “Oh my god, here we go again.”
“No, seriously.” He stepped closer, frustrated enough that his words started spilling over each other. “You disappear for hours, don’t answer your phone, let random people around you at schedules, and then look at me like I’m overreacting when I ask if you’re okay. Why is it that you let everyone in but when it’s me it’s suddenly weird?”
“You’re not my babysitter, James.”
“I know that.”
“Then stop acting like it.” His jaw tightened immediately.
“Do you think I enjoy this?” he snapped. “Do you think I enjoy being this fucked up over you?”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I do.”
The room went quiet for half a secondand you looked away first. Because there it was again. That intensity. That stupid overwhelming sincerity he always had when it came to you. The kind that made your chest feel tight and irritated at the same time.
You scoffed softly instead. “You’re exhausting.”
James laughed under his breath, but there was nothing amused about it. “Yeah?” he said. “You think this is fun for me?”
“I think you’re dramatic as fuck is what you are.”
“And I think you’re terrified of letting anyone care about you for more than five seconds.”
Your expression dropped instantly. “That’s not fair, don’t start with the psychological analysis bullshit.”
“It’s true.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You push every single person away the second things get tough.”
You stared at him in disbelief. “You don’t know shit about me.”
James looked genuinely angry now. “That’s bullshit and you know it.” His voice got louder. “I know what you look like when you’re upset even when you pretend you’re fine. I know you stop eating properly when you’re stressed. I know you crack your knuckles when you’re anxious and that you go completely quiet when something actually hurts you. I fucking know you. I see you and i look at you. So don’t say i don’t know anything about you.”
You opened your mouth, but he kept going. “I know you hate asking people for help because you think it makes you a fucking looser. I know you act mean when you’re scared. I know you pretend not to care about things you care about too much.”
Your heartbeat was suddenly way too loud. “James—”
“And I know,” he said sharply, stepping even closer, “that every time somebody gets close to you, you panic and start acting like they’re the problem instead of admitting you feel something back.”
Silence slammed between you both. You could feel your anger rising just because he was right.
“I didn’t ask for this,” you muttered.
His expression cracked slightly. “You think I did?”
That shut you up. James dragged a hand through his hair roughly, pacing once before stopping again like he physically couldn’t contain himself anymore.
“I tried not to like you,” he admitted, voice uneven now. “You know that? In the beginning I genuinely told myself this was just a crush and it would go away eventually.”
You stared at him. “But then you kept being you.” He laughed bitterly. “And suddenly you were all I could think about.”
The air felt too hot.
“I wait for you constantly,” he said. “I look for you in every room. My entire mood depends on whether you talked to me that day or not.”
Your throat tightened and James looked at you with this awful mixture of anger and vulnerability that made him seem almost shaky.
“And the worst part is,” he said quietly now, “you know that.”
You did.
That was the problem.
“You knew,” he continued, “and you still kept acting like I was stupid for it.”
“I never thought you were stupid.”
“Then why do you keep treating me like I’m something you need to get rid of?”
His voice cracked slightly on the last word. And suddenly the anger inside you collapsed into something else entirely.
Because he looked hurt, actually hurt. Not playful James. Not teasing James. Not the version of him that always smiled everything away. Just a boy standing in front of you looking completely exhausted from loving you.
Your eyes burned unexpectedly. “You make it hard,” you whispered.
James frowned immediately. “What?”
“You make it hard not to fall for you, i swear.”
The silence after that felt violent and James stopped breathing for a second.
You laughed shakily, already frustrated with yourself for saying it out loud. “I didn’t want this either, okay?” Your voice rose again. “I thought you were just flirting with me for fun at first and then suddenly you were everywhere all the time and- and you cared about me so much it started scaring me. It’s so fucking weird i don’t even understand myself these days. And i don’t expect you to understand me.”
James just stared dumbfounded.
“And I hate that you affect me this much,” you admitted. “I hate that you can ruin my entire mood in like two seconds. I hate that when something happens, you’re the first person I wanna talk to.”
His expression softened slowly into disbelief and you looked away, overwhelmed by your own words.
“And I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke.
Then James let out the smallest, most disbelieving humorless laugh. “You’re actually serious?”
You glared at him immediately, embarrassed now. “Don’t piss me off again.”
Maybe it was how long you’d both been holding this in. Maybe it was the fact he was standing there looking at you like you’d ruin him willingly and he’d still thank you for it.
You grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him first.
It wasn’t soft or anything. It wasn’t careful. It crashed out of both of you all at once like the release of months worth of frustration and wanting and unsaid things. James made a startled sound against your mouth before kissing you back immediately, hands finding your waist so fast it almost felt desperate.
The force of it pushed you backward a step.
Then another.
Until your back hit the mirror lightly.
James kissed you like he was angry about it. Like he’d spent too long imagining this and now he didn’t know how to hold himself back anymore. His hands tightened at your waist, pulling you impossibly closer while your fingers tangled into his shirt, wrinkling the fabric completely.
You could barely breathe.
Every kiss felt messy, rushed, clinging, like there was a timer above your heads and he was trying to make the absolute most of it. Like both of you were trying to make up for lost time.
“You drive me insane,” he muttered against your lips, forehead pressing against yours for half a second before kissing you again immediately.
“You literally started this argument,” you shot back breathlessly.
“You confessed in the middle of it.”
“You confessed first.”
James laughed softly against your mouth, completely overwhelmed sounding now. And then he kissed you again, slower this time but somehow worse for your heart. His tongue moved against yours, so fucking sensually you wanted to die right then and there. His hand slid up to your jaw carefully, thumb brushing your cheek while the other stayed firm at your waist like he needed the reminder that you were actually there.
The anger was still there underneath it all. But now it had melted into something warmer. Something aching.
You felt his breathing hitch when your hands slid into his hair, and suddenly his entire grip on you tightened again, forehead dropping to your shoulder for a second like he was trying to collect himself.
“You have no idea what you do to me, i swear” he said quietly.
Your stomach flipped violently and you tilted your head just enough for him to look at you again, the expression on his face nearly destroyed you.
Because James looked relieved. Like he’d been holding his breath around you for months and could finally breathe now.
You could feel it in his kisses, the heat with which he gripped yours hips, pressing against you like there was absolute no inch of your body he didn’t wanna melt with. He was hard, of course he was, undeniably so. Because you were all he wanted, from the moment he’d wake up to the moment he’d close his eyes. It was you. Always you.
TO BE CONTINUED ISTG ( smut ???? LMK BITCHES)