After songs leak, the members accuse you without hesitation, isolating you with cold stares and cruel whispers. When the truth is revealed, it’s too late—the damage is done, and trust between you is shattered.
❛ ━━━━━━･❪skz❫･━━━━━━ ❜
The first thing you notice is the silence and not the comfortable kind. It’s the kind that usually fills practice rooms when everyone’s too tired to talk, or when Chan is focused on producing.
This silence is sharp.
It presses against your ears, heavy and suffocating, like you’ve walked into a room where something has already gone wrong.
You step inside anyway.
Eight pairs of eyes turn to you, none of them are warm.
“What?” you ask, forcing a small laugh, trying to brush off the tension crawling up your spine. “Why are you all—”
“Where were you last night?” Chan’s voice cuts through you. It’s calm—frighteningly so—and it hits you with a coldness that makes your heart stutter.
You blink confused by the sudden interrogation. “Dorm. Why?”
Then Minho scoffs under his breath, a sharp, bitter sound that makes you flinch.
“You actually expect us to believe that?” he mutters, his gaze fixed on the wall behind you as if looking at you is beneath him.
Your chest tightens. “Believe what?”
Hyunjin tosses his phone onto the table. It slides toward you, stopping just short of your hand.
You look down, and your heart doesn’t just drop—it feels like it stops entirely.
Clips. Snippets. Audio files.
Unreleased tracks.
Your tracks.
They are the unreleased tracks from the album you’ve all been pouring your souls into for months. You see the titles of songs that came from hours of sleepless nights, heated arguments, desperate rewrites, and shared tears. All of it—the culmination of your hard work—was out there.
Leaked.
“No…” your fingers trembling as you scroll through the social media threads and the links. “No, this—this isn’t—”
“You were the last one using the studio computer,” Jisung says flatly.
You freeze, the phone nearly slipping from your hand. “I—yeah, I was, but that doesn’t mean I had anything to do with this!”
“Then what does it mean?” Changbin snaps, voice sharp. “Because that’s the same computer the files were pulled from.”
You feel like the ground has suddenly disappeared beneath your feet, leaving you suspended in a void where your own brothers are looking at you like a criminal.
“I didn’t do this,” you say, quieter now. “You have to believe me.”
Felix looks away, his jaw tight. Jeongin refuses to meet your eyes. Jisung is staring intently at his own shoes. Hyunjin just crosses his arms, his face a mask of hurt and anger.
And Chan… Chan just watches you like he’s trying to read something you’re not saying.
But there’s doubt there. You see it, and seeing it hurts more than any of the accusations.
“You’re the only one who had access at that time,” Seungmin adds, his tone cold, calculated. “It’s not exactly a stretch.”
“That’s insane,” you whisper. “Why would I leak our own album?”
“For attention?” Minho says with a shrug. “Wouldn’t be the first time idols did something stupid for buzz.”
Your head snaps toward him like he slapped you.
“What?”
He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t take it back. He just stares at you with a chilling indifference.
“Or money,” Changbin adds. “God knows how much those clips are worth.”
“That’s not funny,” you choke out. “That’s not even—do you hear yourselves?”
But they don’t soften. Not a single one of them offers a hand or a kind word.
“I didn’t do this,” you repeat, voice cracking now. “I swear, I didn’t.”
Chan exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair.
“We’ll let management handle it,” he says finally. “Until then, just…stay out of the studio.”
The words hit you harder than if he had screamed at you.
Stay out.
Like you don’t belong there. Like you’re a threat to the very thing you helped build. Like you’re the problem they need to contain.
“…okay,” you whisper, the word barely audible.
No one stops you when you turn around and walk out the door.
The next few days feel like a blur of quiet cruelty.
It’s the little things that hurt the most.
No one sits next to you at the kitchen table anymore; they leave a conspicuous, empty gap as if your presence is contagious. No one calls your name when they’re ordering food or headed to the convenience store.
The group chats, once a constant stream of memes and chaotic energy, go silent the moment you reply to something.
Minho brushes past you in the hallway like you’re a piece of furniture, not even bothering to acknowledge your existence. Hyunjin doesn’t even try to hide his glares when you accidentally catch his eye.
Changbin mutters things just loud enough for you to hear—“unbelievable,” “can’t trust anyone.”
Even Felix… sweet, kind-hearted Felix, who usually hugs everyone until they can’t breathe… avoids you like you’re made of glass that’s already shattered.
And Chan? Chan doesn’t look at you at all. He stays buried in his work, eyes fixed on his screens or his feet, treating you like a ghost haunting the dorm.
That hurts the most of all.
Eventually, you stop trying. You stop going to practice because the atmosphere is too toxic to breathe. You stop hanging around the common areas of the dorm because the silence is too loud.
Because every time you do, it feels like you’re begging for scraps of trust they’ve already decided you don’t deserve.
One night, you hear them all laughing in the living room—a genuine, loud sound that used to include you. For a split second, habit almost pulls you out of your room to join them.
Almost.
Then you remember the way they looked at you.
Like you betrayed them.
Like you ruined everything.
You turn back to your bed instead, burying your face in your pillow to cry where no one can hear you.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
It’s a week later when everything breaks.
Management calls a mandatory meeting for everyone. All nine of you are ushered into a sterile conference room. You sit at the very end of the long table.
The room is thick with an uncomfortable energy until one of the head managers clears their throat and opens a laptop.
“We’ve concluded the investigation.”
Your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure everyone can hear it.
Chan straightens up in his chair, his hands clenched into fists on the table.
“So?” he asks.
The manager slides a thick folder onto the table, the sound of paper hitting wood echoing in the quiet room.
“Evidence shows that the leak did not come from any of you.”
Silence.
Absolute, deafening silence.
You don’t move. You don't even think you’re breathing.
“It was one of the new interns,” they continue. “They accessed the files after hours. We have CCTV footage and email records—communication with external media outlets. They were paid to leak the tracks.”
A sharp intake of breath echoes somewhere down the table.
You continue to stare at your hands. They’re shaking, but it’s not from fear anymore. It’s from a hollow, crushing realization.
“What?” Changbin whispers.
Seungmin leans back slowly, looking like he’s just been punched in the gut. Hyunjin’s face goes deathly pale, his gaze dropping to the floor. Felix looks like he’s on the verge of a breakdown, his eyes welling with tears.
And Chan finally looks at you. He really looks at you for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.
“…you didn’t…” he starts, voice unsteady.
You let out a short, hollow laugh that has no humor in it. Of course you didn’t. You had told them that. You had told them until your voice was hoarse and your heart was broken.
“I said I didn’t,” you murmur, still refusing to look up from the table.
No one speaks. There’s nothing left to say that can undo the last seven days. No apology can take back the cold shoulders, the venomous whispers, or the way they looked at you like you were a stranger. They didn't just doubt you; they abandoned you when you needed them to be your family the most.
The sound of a chair scraping against the floor breaks the silence.
Footsteps approach you, hesitant and slow.
“Hey,” Chan says softly, standing right in front of you. He reaches out a hand as if to touch your shoulder. “I—we—I’m so sorry, I—”
You stand up before he can finish. You don’t do it violently, and you don’t make a scene. You just move enough to make him retract his hand, creating a physical boundary between you and the leader you used to trust implicitly.
“I need some air. Excuse me.” you say.
Your voice is calm. The kind of calm that comes after the storm has already leveled the house.
It makes Chan’s expression twist with a fresh wave of pain.
“Can we please talk about this?” he pleads, his voice cracking.
“Later,” you cut in, though you aren't sure if 'later' will ever actually come.
You don’t wait for permission or for them to explain themselves. You just turn and walk out of the room, the door clicking shut behind you.
They don’t go after you right away when the door clicks shut.
It isn't because they don’t want to—it’s because none of them actually know how.
The room feels different now. Heavy in a way that makes breathing feel like work. The truth sits on the table between them like something alive, something ugly.
They were wrong.
Not just factually incorrect, but fundamentally cruel.
Chan drags both hands down his face, the skin stretching under the pressure. He paces the length of the room once, then twice, before stopping abruptly.
“We fucked up,” he says, his voice sounding hollow, like it's echoing from the bottom of a well.
No one argues with him. Because there is absolutely nothing left to argue.
“I told you,” Felix whispers, voice trembling. “She kept saying she didn’t do it…”
“And we didn’t listen,” Hyunjin finishes quietly, his usual composure completely gone.
Jisung leans forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. “We accused her like it was already proven.”
That breaks something.
Because they all remember it now—the details they chose to ignore in their anger. They remember the way your voice shook when you pleaded with them. They remember the way your hands trembled when you held Hyunjin’s phone.
The way you kept saying I didn’t do this—over and over, like if you said it enough times, they’d finally believe you.
But they didn’t.
Chan exhales sharply. “We fix this.”
Jeongin shakes his head slowly. “You can’t just ‘fix’ something like that, Hyung. You don't just glue that kind of trust back together.”
“I know,” Chan says, quieter now. “But we have to try.”
Because now, they finally understand. It was never about whether you were innocent or guilty. It was about the fact that when things got hard, they didn't believe you.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
You don’t come back that night.
Or the next night.
Or the one after that.
Every single day that passes without your presence in the dorm feels like a punishment. Your bedroom door stays closed, a silent barrier that none of them dare to cross. Your things remain untouched on the shelves—your favorite mug in the cupboard, your shoes by the door—and your absence becomes a physical thing, louder and more intrusive than any noise you ever made.
It’s four days later when the front door finally clicks open.
You step inside cautiously, moving like a stranger in a house you've lived in for years. You’re careful, quiet, keeping your shoulders hunched as if you’re trying to take up as little space as possible.
It’s the movement of someone who doesn't quite feel like they belong anymore.
Eight heads turn immediately.
The tension is instant.
“Hey,” Chan says, standing up too quickly, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t move fast enough.
You give a small nod. “Hi.”
That’s it. No smile. No warmth. Just a polite, distant greeting that hurts more than if you had walked in screaming at them.
Felix is the first one to bridge the gap. He walks toward you slowly, his hands held out slightly as if he’s approaching something fragile that might shatter at the slightest vibration.
“You’re back…”
“Just to grab some things,” you reply softly.
The words land like a physical punch to the gut of everyone in the room.
“Things?” Changbin repeats, panic flickering in his voice. “You’re… leaving?”
You hesitate for a second, and that hesitation says more than a thousand words ever could.
“No,” Chan says quickly, stepping closer. “No, you’re not—we’re not letting it end like that. Please… just talk to us.”
Your grip tightens on your bag.
“I don’t really know what there is to talk about.”
Minho flinches at the coldness in your tone. Seungmin looks down at his hands, unable to face you. Hyunjin finally finds his feet and steps forward, his voice quieter and more broken than they’ve ever heard it.
“We’re sorry.”
You don’t respond, so he keeps going, the words tumbling out in a rush.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have looked at you like that. We shouldn’t have assumed the worst. You didn’t deserve that.”
Jisung runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated—with himself. “I said things I didn’t mean. I was angry and I took it out on you, and that’s not—there’s no excuse for that.”
“I avoided you,” Felix adds, his voice breaking. “Even when I knew something felt off. I’m so sorry…”
Jeongin steps closer, eyes glossy. “I didn’t defend you. I just stayed quiet. That’s on me too.”
Seungmin exhales shakily. “I pride myself on being rational, but I wasn’t. I hurt you.”
Minho finally looks at you—really looks at you. There’s something raw and bleeding in his expression now.
“I said you just wanted attention,” he mutters, the words tasting like ash. “That was… messed up. You’ve never been that person. I knew that in my heart, and I just… I chose to ignore it.”
All of them owning every look, every word, and every silence.
No excuses about the stress of the comeback. No deflecting onto the intern.
Just pure, unadulterated guilt.
And Chan steps in front of you last. His voice is the quietest of all. “I should’ve believed you. More than anyone else in this world, I should have been the one standing in front of you.”
That’s the one that cracks something in your chest.
Because he’s right.
Out of all of them—the leader, the one who calls you family more than anyone—he should have known.
“I trusted evidence more than I trusted you,” he continues, eyes shining. “And that’s not what a leader does. That’s not what someone who cares about you does.”
A heavy silence settles over the dorm. All eyes are on you, waiting. You swallow hard, feeling the lump in your throat.
“…I get why you were upset,” you say slowly. “The situation was bad. I understand that.”
Relief flickers across a few faces but it fades just as quickly when you continue.
“But you didn’t just get upset,” you add, voice tightening. “You decided it was me. Immediately.”
No one interrupts. Because they can’t.
“You didn’t even hesitate.”
Your hands tremble slightly, but you keep going.
“I kept telling you I didn’t do it. I was right there, and none of you believed me.”
You don’t stop.
“I felt like I was begging just to be trusted. And that’s…” you shake your head. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”
Chan looks like he’s about to reach out, to say something, but you take a small step back. Just a few inches. That tiny movement says everything.
“I forgive you,” you say.
They all freeze.
“But I don’t feel okay yet.”
The words are soft and painfully honest. They’re somehow heavier than anger.
“I don’t think I can just… go back to normal like nothing happened.”
Minho clenches his jaw, his eyes dropping to the floor. Hyunjin looks away, his shoulders shaking. Changbin nods slowly, accepting the weight of your words even though it clearly hurts him to hear them.
“That’s fair,” Chan says. “You don’t have to.”
You shift your bag on your shoulder.
“I’m not leaving the group,” you add quietly. “But… I need time.”
No one argues. They don’t have the right to demand anything from you anymore.
“Take all the time you need,” Seungmin says gently.
Felix wipes his tears. “We’ll wait.”
Changbin nods. “We’ll do better.”
Jeongin gives you a small, shaky smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. Minho just mutters, “We’ll prove we’re worth trusting again.”
Chan steps back, giving you space this time.
“We’re not giving up on you,” he says softly. “Even if you need distance… we’ll be here.”
You nod, but you don’t move closer to them. Not yet.
And they notice that too.
The way you linger near the edges.
The way your voice stays careful and guarded.
The way you look at them like you’re measuring every word, every action like you’re walking on eggshells around people who were once your safest place.
It hurts.
But they don’t rush you.
They don’t demand hugs or smiles or forgiveness.
They just—try.
Small things at first.
Gentler voices when they speak to you. Softer approaches when they enter a room you're in. They check in without pushing for an answer. They give you all the space in the world, while making sure you never actually feel alone.
Because they know now that trust isn’t something you say sorry for.
It’s something you rebuild, brick by brick, day by day.
And this time, they’re not letting it break again.
summary: stays always talk about how chan is secretly their oomf on twitter, but they never stop to think that their oomf could be dating a member of stray kids, or that she could be dating all of them
a/n: happy 8 years to our boys!! i’ve been a stay for 8 months, 8 is fate ugh, and it has been the best 8 months ever! i love them so much and am so proud of them. they led me to meet such amazing friends and other stays i am so grateful <3 also please tell me your thoughts on the new song they released for us! i have been crying about it ever since it came out
*this is a oneshot poly skz spin off of my seungmin his gf is oomf series! there will not be another part for this poly skz version. i just wanted to make something fun and silly for the boy’s anniversary with my oomf concept! also please ignore that i reused the twitter profiles this does not take place in the same universe i was just too lazy to make new ones lol*
( 애인 ) 𝒾n which ︵ when jisung puts his phone on silent, the rest of the world (and your seven other boyfriends) can only watch in horror as he casually spills every domestic secret you own. it turns out "saving the environment" by sharing a shower is much harder to explain to the internet than it was to the group chat.
12ss mildly suggestive banter & themes (hanji has a hickey) established polyamorous relationship accidental reveal han does not put his media training to use everyone is downbad for iyen minho is a softie
idk man there's nothing i love more than poly skz
⌨️ like&&reblog for a kiss. ── #click4masterlist to see more.
you crash out on your 8 boyfriends after their fanmeeting
pairing: poly!skz x fem!reader
genre: fake texts, humor, suggestive
content: slightly suggestive but nothing explicit, thirsting over skz
ss: 14
a/n: i crashed out after the fanmeeting and poured all my energy into this lol. i did this in a couple hours so if there's mistakes pls forgive me ♡
♡ m.list
**photos are not mine (from twitter/x, watermarks kept if they had them) pics may look a bit distorted i apologize**
a/n: idk what this is but i hope you enjoyed LOL ♡
contains: poly skz, skz x reader, fluff, suggestiveness
summary: by this point, seungmin is far too accustomed to homoeroticism. a lingering hand? normal. draping himself into someone's arms? ordinary. stomping down the feelings blooming dangerously in his chest? par for the course. or: seungmin wouldn't recognize a sign if a billboard body-slammed him. 7.1k words.
☆ note: inspired by this tweet [guy who's in a polycule but not dating anyone, he's just there]
my masterlist
Seungmin would like to remind everyone he is not unobservant. He observes just fine. The issue lies within his interpretation of those observations, which tend to lean towards what a strange coincidence at best and ugly, curdling envy at worst.
There’s been too many coincidences lately. Something… weird is happening.
Weirder than usual, which is honestly a feat in and of itself.
He needs time alone to analyze, so after vocal practice he pushes and pushes (and pushes) his manager’s patience. Eventually, she snaps and agrees to let him walk back to the dorms by himself, on a couple conditions. He promises to keep his location on. He swears to call the millisecond someone looks at him the wrong way. He compromises and agrees to let himself be picked up if he’s not back within an hour.
And then he is free.
Carving out time for himself is a skill he’s mastered over the years. It’s difficult when his members’ nosiness rivals Pinocchio’s, but he manages. His dedication to pestering until he gets his way works out surprisingly well for him more often than not.
He loves all of them, he does. He would gladly find scissors if fate’s string ever tries to pull them apart. Sometimes, though, being around anyone at all frays him in a way that’s unpleasant for everyone, especially himself, only reset back to normal through peace and quiet.
Peace and quiet could not have come at a better time. He’s more of a grand gesture person when it comes to expressing his emotions. Talking things out inherently requires someone else, listening and remembering and potentially bringing up again. That’s too much. He just needs to identify his jumbled emotions, put a label on them, and neatly pack them away to shove deep into his mind’s junk drawer.
All of that is without even considering how you fit into everything – which, for the record, Seungmin is always considering how you fit into everything. It’s a mess, but he’s confident he can sort it out in the next hour or so.
Setting off in the direction of home, he pops in his earbuds (don’t tell his manager), zones out (especially don’t tell his manager), and ruminates on some of the stranger happenings.
He supposes the best place to begin is the beginning.
THE JEONGIN SUBVERSION
Hindsight is a bitch, isn’t it?
Looking back, the too peaceful drive should have been a sign of what was to come. But it was 2:30 in the morning, and Seungmin was barely conscious after Felix – the bastard – yanked his blanket off him while declaring “Get up we’re going to be late!” thirty minutes beforehand.
They were not late. They were the first ones to arrive at the SUVs idling at the curb for them. Seungmin felt entirely justified waiting until Felix made his choice to climb into the opposite car, where he practically melted into a window seat in the back row and would try to catch a few more minutes of rest.
Shortly after, Chan, Changbin, and Han created the world’s sleepiest single-file line to settle into the remaining seats. Changbin and Han opted for the back row with him. Han draped his legs over Changbin’s lap, let his head fall onto Seungmin’s thigh, muttered “Wakem’upwhenwegetthere,” and promptly fell back asleep, like he was never even awake in the first place.
Instinctually, Seungmin began carding his hand through Han’s soft hair. He felt an odd sense of pride when Han emitted a satisfied noise and snuggled further into him.
Chan greeted him with a tired smile and took the seat in front of Seungmin, immediately opening his laptop and getting back to work. His screen glowed brightly in the dim lighting. Seungmin’s willing to bet the oldest does not even register the eye strain anymore, and resolved to hunt down some painkillers during their first break.
With Chan’s keyboard clacking and Han drooling on his leg, Seungmin should have been more annoyed, but try as he might, he couldn’t muster up that feeling. Mostly, he just felt nearly complete – like the majority, but not all, pieces of himself were finally sliding into place.
Speaking of.
You appeared in the open doorway after Chan, looking entirely too composed for the hour. Seungmin wasn’t necessarily surprised to see you – it’s more of a surprise when you’re not around – but he didn’t expect you would come over this early. Another one of his members must have let you sleep on their couch.
He wasn’t jealous. Even if he was, nobody knew, so it remained fine.
Your gaze settled over Chan, resolute. Seungmin has been on the receiving end of that look, and he’s not eager for a repeat experience. At least, not in public. You have a particular talent for making him feel like he’s been called to the principal’s office – which, okay, he’s not complaining, but it absolutely does not help his nervous system working overtime around you.
Chan, seemingly, did not even notice.
“Move,” you said, determined.
At that, Chan did glance upwards at you, but only for a second before he returned to his laptop. “Why?” he asked, eyes glued to the screen.
“I wanna sit by Minnie.” Your eyes flit to Seungmin, who was doing his best to school his expression into neutral. A ghost of a smile haunted your lips, for nobody but him, and Seungmin concentrated hard on being normal about that. She smiles at you every day, get it together.
“What if I want to be beside Minnie?” Chan mocked the nickname by putting extra emphasis on it, which Seungmin did not appreciate. Seungmin expressed this displeasure via a kick to the back of his seat.
He resolutely ignored Changbin’s good-natured, “Real mature, Minnie.”
Luckily, that was the extent of the conversation, mainly because Han shifted on Seungmin’s lap and murmured a distinct threat detailing what would happen if everyone kept making noise. So Chan moved, and you took his place, and the staff member in charge of them drove off before Han had the opportunity to act on his threats.
They were heading to rehearse choreography. The whole group protested the ass o’clock start time, but it was the only time everyone’s schedules were free at the same time for the next week. As much as it sometimes seemed like it, you were not actually a part of Stray Kids, which meant you could have easily slept in this morning and skipped accompanying them to rehearsal.
You would definitely fall asleep on them later, but that didn’t matter. Seungmin was glad you chose to stay with them. He hoped you never stopped choosing to stay with them.
“How’s my third favorite doing?” you whispered while simultaneously reaching back to obnoxiously pinch his cheek.
“I hate you,” he said, yearning.
“Yeah, I hate you too. Here, I brought you this,” you reached into your bag and held out his favorite muffin from the good bakery down the street. “It’s a little stale, I got it yesterday. Hope it’s still good?”
Seungmin practically snatched it from your hands. “I don’t hate you anymore,” he said between bites, reveling in your laugh. Crumbs landed in Han’s hair. Seungmin left them.
Their SUV leisurely drove through familiar streets. The second car carrying everyone else followed closely behind them. Seungmin made the right choice with this one.
His gaze settled on you in front of him. He tried not to; he tried staring at the stars, or trying to peek at Chan’s laptop screen, but he always returned to you. How could he not? Bathed in low light, shadows playing with your features, you were absolutely beautiful.
You weren’t even paying attention to him, and that was perfectly fine with him. He could stare without needing an excuse.
The ride ended too soon.
Jeongin, damp hair clinging to the back of his neck, was already storming towards them when they disembarked.
“Hey!” Jeongin shouted into the chilly night air, and Seungmin – no matter how Chan retells this story – did not yelp like a scared puppy. He yelped like a brave puppy. “Don’t use my towel, asshole!”
Seungmin only saw it because he was studying for Chan’s reaction – the flicker of genuine exasperation, the gut instinct to snap back that he pushed down for the sake of being a good leader. Still, Chan took several seconds to breathe before turning to face the youngest and saying, “I didn’t use your towel.”
“Bullshit,” Jeongin said. A small crowd began to form around them – members and staff entering the building dropping their tasks to watch. “I’ve asked you not to before, and my towel was wet this morning. That was my last clean one, man.”
“Then maybe you should do your own laundry, instead of expecting me to do it for you.”
“I asked one time! You-”
“Sorry!” Your voice rang out, interrupting the insult Jeongin surely had poised on his tongue. He startled slightly; he must not have seen you behind Changbin and Han. Easy, you placed yourself between them, facing Jeongin. “I think that was me. Is it blue?”
Jeongin took a moment to collect himself before shaking his head. “No, red.” Annoyance still laced his voice, but significantly less than ten seconds beforehand. Seungmin definitely did not feel a stab of jealousy that you stayed over with Chan and Jeongin – and, apparently, had enough time to take a shower this morning.
“Ah, that was me then,” Han piped up beside him. “I’m sorry, I thought it was Chan’s.”
Seungmin watched Jeongin deflate. “Oh, that’s okay then,” he answered. If Seungmin didn’t know better, he would almost call the youngest’s tone gentle.
The small number of onlookers began to disperse, exchanging looks with each other, speechlessly regretful they didn’t get to watch a bigger fight.
Usually, on a normal day, both Jeongin and Chan forget about their one-off outbursts almost as quickly as they begin, provided nobody gets hurt or there isn’t a bigger issue. However, that day, Jeongin was irritated by virtue of not being a morning person and Chan was irritated by virtue of being yelled at before the sun rose. Neither one of them felt like kissing and making up right at that moment.
“Hey, wait, what the fuck?” Chan’s earlier calmness fractured.
Seungmin had the same question. How many people showered at their dorm?
Jeongin shrugged. “Honest mistake, it happens.”
“You were ready to kill me!”
“You’re exaggerating, it was fine.” Jeongin didn’t give Chan a chance to respond, very purposefully turning on his heels and following the dissipating trail of people into their building.
Being ignored, of course, only made Chan more upset, not that Jeongin was there to see it.
Chan’s eyebrows rose in disbelief, and Seungmin decided Jeongin had the right idea getting out of there. Seungmin, as a rule, generally becomes a target for people’s irritation (granted, he causes it most of the time, but still), and he absolutely did not want to stick around for that to happen.
As he speed walked to the entrance doors, he passed you and Chan.
You were whispering something to Chan, and he was smiling, goofy, back at you. He pulled you in closer to him, and both of you laughed like you shared a private joke. Seungmin would not have believed Chan was about to forge a warpath if he hadn’t witnessed it firsthand.
Out of nowhere, Seungmin’s mind conjured up fantasies of what it would be like if Chan smiled at him like that. If Chan held him, shared his body heat in the cold, if Seungmin could just whisper something and melt his leader’s stress. If Chan would lean on him, instead of trying to hold everything together all the time. Sure, they’re close now, but it’s not the same; it’s not the ease he seems to emanate with everyone else.
It caught him off guard, to say the least.
He didn’t have time to unpack those thoughts – it probably had something to do with the remnants of sleep tugging him down, anyway. Shoving it out of his mind, he continued to scramble to their practice room before Minho could get onto him for his lateness.
Rehearsal was tense, in the beginning. Jeongin and Chan still had frigidity, but as the day continued, the ice melted between them. By their second break, they were back to their usual selves; Jeongin annoying Chan, Chan taking every possible opportunity to drape himself over the youngest.
During that break, Seungmin went searching for you. It had been a while since you excused yourself from watching and slipped out the door. He found you curled up asleep on an out-of-the-way bench, just like he knew you would eventually. Gently, to not disturb you, he took off his hoodie and covered you with it.
If he took a picture because you looked cute, that’s his business.
Seungmin shakes his head, doing his best to rid himself of that memory. He’ll come back to that one. On to the next.
Living with Felix gives him whiplash sometimes.
It could be argued he knows Felix better than anyone. He’s seen him blossom in front of adoring fans, he’s seen him cough into his phone’s speaker to convince management he really is coincidentally sick when The Game Awards streams, he’s seen him cry himself dry after a particularly brash photographer weaseled under his skin.
Ninety percent of their last decade has been spent together. Words aren’t necessary for routine conversations at this point. Last week, Felix glanced at him for less than a second and knew Seungmin wanted strawberry jam instead of his usual grape. That one still freaks him out a little.
But every so often, Felix does something that makes him question whether or not he’s been kidnapped and replaced by an evil twin.
(They went down a conspiracy theory rabbit hole a few nights ago. Felix is convinced Avril Lavigne isn’t real.)
Take, for example:
THE HYUNLIX COLLISION
There is a certain dignity in failure. Granted, it has negative connotations, but Seungmin would genuinely prefer to first fail than to immediately succeed.
Failure precedes learning. Failure builds resilience. Failure means growth, not just in the attempt, but as a person. It’s a raw and honest reflection of the human spirit in a way nothing else can attempt.
Seungmin was blank-staring at his opponent’s fuckass long fatality sequence when their front door burst open.
Felix was first through the door, but only on a technicality. With Hyunjin pressed up against him, it was nearly impossible to tell where Felix ended and Hyunjin began. Felix’s arms wrapped around Hyunjin’s neck, leaving no other option but to remain flush against each other.
They were falling all over each other, sloppily making out as much as gravity allowed, both men giggly in the way liquor makes them.
The last thing Felix said to Seungmin before leaving hours ago was, “Be safe, love you.” He definitely would have remembered a Hey, by the way, I’m gonna need the dorm to myself tonight. And also, Hyunjin and I are hooking up.
That was probably the wrong thing to focus on, he thought, as Felix let out a particularly needy whine. The two men didn't seem to notice nor care that they are not alone.
Seungmin sat unnoticed, unmoving, under a rock the size of a large rock. He wanted to say something, don’t get him wrong, but he felt too much like he was teetering on the edge of an endless abyss. One wrong move, or one move at all, and he would freefall forever, never to be seen or heard from again.
So he remained slack-jawed, staring.
They were moving as one in the general direction of Felix’s room, however, they kept getting distracted by each other. Hyunjin angled himself to press hasty kisses onto Felix’s jawline. The image of Felix’s flushed cheeks, coupled with his fingers tugging into Hyunjin’s hair, branded itself into Seungmin’s eyelids. Hyunjin’s whispered praises reverberated around his ears.
Their living room’s temperature rose approximately one thousand degrees. It was batshit insane that Seungmin was the only one who felt it. The entire world could have turned upside down at that moment, and he would not have noticed.
Then, the world did turn upside down.
Something — rather, someone — shifted in his peripheral vision. Maybe if he noticed you sooner, he would have been more prepared. Maybe he could have stopped the strangled noise he emitted when he laid eyes on you.
Maybe, but probably not.
You had followed Hyunjin and Felix into the room, eyes also trained on the two and a large smile on your lips. However, you also noticed him almost immediately. “Seungminnie!” you exclaimed, a smidge too excitedly to be sober.
“Uh-h,” Seungmin eloquently stammered. His face was dangerously hot, approaching cause for concern. He was suffocating and overheating and not doing a single thing about it.
Over your shoulder, the two men stopped stumbling through the dorm in favor of Hyunjin subtly palming Felix through his jeans. As subtle as he could, that is, which is to say not subtle in the slightest. Felix’s resulting moan nearly caused him to choke on air.
Hyunjin finally looked over at Seungmin. “Hey, my love,” he said, and Seungmin suddenly was receiving far too much attention. He wished he could go back to when nobody knew he was there.
Not one to be outdone, you crossed the room and nearly collapsed into his side. He had to loop one arm around your waist to keep you from overshooting it and ending up facedown in his lap. He was the only one in the room who would have a problem with that, if Felix’s excited gasp and your smile were anything to go by.
You could definitely feel his racing pulse. Hell, you could probably hear his racing pulse. He was more certain of that than he’s ever been about anything.
Your perfume stuck to your skin throughout the night, and it invaded Seungmin’s senses. Sickly sweet, mixed with sweat (probably from dancing with someone else, Seungmin’s brain reminded him). It’s so familiar, so you, so unattainable, yet it was the only thing keeping air in his lungs right then. Manually breathing wasn’t far off the table.
Belatedly, Seungmin realized his game’s home screen music was still playing through their TV speakers. That moment of clarity dissipated when you glanced over your shoulder to Hyunjin and Felix, and somehow shared a silent communication with them.
Seungmin couldn’t read the glint in Hyunjin’s eyes.
You turned your attention back to Seungmin. “We’re gonna go to Lixie’s room,” you started, eyeing him hopefully. Then you leaned in, closer, closer, and Seungmin had never known anything except the warmth of your skin against his or your hair brushing against his cheek.
“Wanna come?” you purred into his ear, breath ghosting over his earlobe. Goosebumps erupted across his skin.
whatthefuck whatthefuck whatthefuckwhatthef-
“God, yes,” Felix growled at the same time Hyunjin found amusement in your wording.
You could ask him to do nearly anything, and he would oblige without question. This, however, felt like a cruel joke. It’s not your fault. He wants the real thing too much. You would know. Hyunjin and Felix would know. Everybody he cares about would know.
Besides, he was the only one there thinking clearly, and he was positive you would regret touching him like that in the morning. He should not have even let you get as far as you did.
He opened his mouth to tell you as such, but Hyunjin beat him to it.
“He’s not going to, you know that,” Hyunjin murmured, disconnecting from Felix long enough to talk again. He wasn’t unkind – he was nearly sympathetic, even, which crushed Seungmin further. He said it so casually, so matter-of-fact. Then, because he’s Hyunjin, he followed it up with, “And our boy here’s getting impatient, hm?”
He paired his words with some caressing, judging by the obscene noise Felix let out.
“Yeah,” you responded. “Let’s take care of him, yeah?”
With that, you stood up, leaving Seungmin alone and strangely cold, even as his skin still burned.
Seungmin didn’t stick around to see what happened once you reached them. He didn’t want to see. He couldn’t see. His imagination would be cruel enough to him.
As soon as your back was turned, Seungmin took the opportunity to dart off the couch and into the relative safety of the hallway. In reality, the whole scenario probably took no longer than five minutes, but Seungmin felt like he had aged decades by the time his front door closed behind him.
He wasn’t proud of running away, but he absolutely could not stay in that dorm with the three of you. Part of him regretted not taking you up on your offer. A larger part of him regretted being in the dorm at all.
His feet carried him to Changbin’s door.
Changbin, like he always did, opened up immediately and ushered Seungmin inside and onto his couch. Changbin, like he always did, knew when something was bothering Seungmin. He didn’t even need to tell him.
He didn’t, but he tried anyway. “Hyunjin and Felix–” he started, unsure how to finish. Changbin nodded, encouragement to keep going. “And she–” he cut himself off, not trusting himself to get through this with a straight face. Changbin wouldn’t judge him, he knew, but he still couldn’t.
“Yeah,” Changbin said softly. “How are you feeling? With that?”
“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Seungmin murmured. Again, he thought, he was running away, but he’d deal with it later. He’d think about everything later. In that moment, he just needed to exist and be distracted with Changbin.
That’s exactly what he got. He and Changbin artfully avoided the heaviness lingering around Seungmin, and instead talked about absolutely nothing until Seungmin drifted off to sleep on his couch.
Seungmin sidesteps a crumpled, discarded bright pink flyer – it reads EVERYONE’S A STAR! – and grumbles in irritation. He’d asked you about it after that night, but you had made it into a joke every time. Either you’d wink and say he could return the favor, or you’d just extend the same offer again (“But join us this time!” “I don’t drink that much.” “Who said anything about drinking?”).
He gets it. Now that he’s had time to relive it, he feels either hauntingly inadequate or gnawing jealousy, depending on his mood.
Why not him? Bitterness. Envy. Towards which person – Felix, Hyunjin, or you – he’s not sure. The obvious answer is he envies both Felix and Hyunjin for sharing a bed with you, but that’s not entirely true.
He doesn’t wish to replace anyone. He wants to be involved, is all. And he was – you, quite literally, threw yourself at him, and that stings so much worse than anything else. He doesn’t want to be a joke; he wants to be included in a real way, not when everyone involved is simply looking for a good time with the nearest person available.
God, what a sad thought.
He needs to move on before he spirals.
THE MINSUNG CONTROL VARIABLE
Some things would be stranger if they didn’t happen.
THE CHANGBIN REACTION
It started out as a surprise for fans. As a surprise to the rest of his group. A love letter, of sorts, for their dedicated, unwavering support, from the early years where odds of success were stacked against them through their sold-out stadium tours. A love letter to his members, who never let him cave into himself and constantly remind him of his worth.
A love letter to Changbin, specifically. For holding him together. For being a pillar, for loving him extra in his low moments, for being Changbin.
The official itinerary for their Fanmeeting alloted time for a “Seungmin Solo”. Everyone, including his members, believed he would sing “As We Are” – they were under that impression because Seungmin told them that’s what he would sing. Nobody except himself and the relevant staff knew the truth. In reality, he would be performing “ULTRA” again, complete with a recreation of Changbin’s tour outfit tailored for his own proportions.
Changbin loved when Seungmin did it last, so why not do it grander this time?
Seungmin made the last-minute decision to bring Changbin on stage with him, to give him a chair and have a camera dedicated to capturing his live reaction. A mistake if he’s ever made one.
Changbin’s attention on him burned hotter and resonated louder than any screaming fans. He did not speak a word, but he didn’t need to. Every time Seungmin looked over, Changbin was looking back at him, relaxed and all too glad to keep watching. Sometimes he was grinning, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek. Sometimes he leaned forward to study Seungmin closer. Every time, he was cocky, his body language screaming out desires.
Seungmin had not considered Changbin would dial up the fan service. All the more embarrassing that it affected Seungmin more than it should. At a certain point, he had to stop looking over entirely and just focus on getting through his performance without stuttering or tripping over himself.
Afterwards, he was absolutely positive that the SeungBin shippers had enough fuel for the rest of their lives. More than enough fuel. Wildfires would be envious of the kindling Changbin provided out there. Seungmin could only pray that the sunglasses and stage makeup were enough to hide his reactions.
Seungmin stared at himself in his dressing room mirror. He had two minutes to ready himself for going back out onstage, and he was absolutely nowhere near close to it.
He was still staring, trancelike, when the door to his left opened and closed. And just like that, there was another, heavy presence. The same one Seungmin couldn’t decide if he should cling to or run far away from. Finally tearing his eyes away, he turned and saw Changbin staring at him, confused.
“You can’t do that to me,” Changbin said.
The instinct to push back kicked in, and Seungmin responded, “There’s thousands of fans out there who would disagree.” He didn’t even know what Changbin was saying he couldn’t do. He needed normalcy, and that was the quickest way.
Changbin chuckles without humor. He took a step towards Seungmin, then another, and another, until he was right in front of him. Inches away. Seungmin could count his eyelashes, could trace the lines on his skin if he wanted to. He could easily lean in, if he wanted to.
Something flickered across Changbin’s face. Once again, his hyung knew what he needed. Changbin’s voice dipped low, huskier than Seungmin had ever heard it. “God, all this time…” he trailed off, eyes flitting down to Seungmin’s lips.
Seungmin didn’t want to move. He wanted the two of them to stay right there while the world passed them by. He wanted Changbin to keep talking and to keep looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky.
Changbin continued, “Chan made me promise, you know? He knew. He knew I’d already fallen for you a long time ago. He knew I would have the hardest time controlling myself.”
Changbin stared, his eyes drilling into Seungmin. Seungmin had to look away, for fear that Changbin would drill too deep and all of his fantasies would spill out.
“Hey, no, eyes on me, yeah? There you go.” Changbin’s praise sent a shiver up Seungmin’s spine. “But you don’t want me to control myself, do you?”
Seungmin wasn’t aware when they started moving. His back hitting the wall behind him came as a complete surprise, but he wasn’t willing to tear his eyes away again. Changbin’s arms caged him in on either side.
“You want us, yeah?” Changbin asked.
The door slammed open.
It was a bucket of ice water dumped all over the moment.
“Oh! Am I…” Jeongin trailed off, wriggling his eyebrows, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Interrupting something?”
Changbin looked at Seungmin, as if waiting for him to answer. Seungmin was bolted to the ground. Every one of his limbs was frozen.
Was he interrupting something? Does Jeongin know?
No. There’s nothing to know. Jeongin was just being a menace, as usual.
Still, Changbin stared at Seungmin, at Seungmin’s lack of a reaction, and that was all the answer he could give. Eventually, after a few seconds or a small eternity, Changbin dropped his hands. “No,” he answered. “You didn’t interrupt anything. Come on, we’ve gotta get back out there.”
So he did what he was best at. He followed Changbin, and he performed, and he ignored the persistent ache in his chest.
Seungmin has never been good at keeping up with group texts. Sue him.
His main source of updates is Chan informing him of schedules about thirty minutes in advance. Seungmin plays along – his yes, I already know, go away expression is truly a work of art – even though they both realize Seungmin would be lost without him.
That quality is part of what landed him in this mess to begin with.
That quality is entirely the reason for what he will call
THE OT8 CLUSTER(FUCK)
He almost walks right past their dorms, too wrapped up in himself to realize the familiar, hulking building that has not once moved nor changed its appearance is, in fact, where he lives.
He’s out of time with absolutely nothing to show for it. If anything, he’s even more confused, and now he has to face the very people causing this. He doesn’t think he’s ready for it – but he has to be. He can’t exactly hide from his band forever. He could barely hide from them for an hour.
Briefly, Seungmin considers taking a lap around his usual path. He discards the idea almost as soon as he has it. Their manager probably already warned Chan to be expecting Seungmin, and Chan is probably waiting with a pile of more work for them. Their leader is in one of his moods; he absolutely will not let up until he passes out with exhaustion, unless it’s for something he deems more important. Not a lot of things have ever been more important.
Scrubbing a hand down his face, he pulls open the entrance door, waves to their security guard, and gets in the elevator.
Whatever happens, he’ll be along for it. During their trainee days, when they weren’t sure if the outcome would be worth their effort and each day was harder than the last, Chan used to tell them the only way out is through. He said it so often, Seungmin and Jeongin would place over/under bets concerning how many times they would hear it any given week.
So, the only way out is through. If only trainee Seungmin knew where he’d end up.
If that means he keeps hurting, so be it. It’ll be worth it to stay around.
The elevator dings. The doors open, and his hallway sprawls unending in front of him. Starting towards his dorm, he begins to think up excuses to dodge Chan’s near-certain extra work. All he wants is a long, hot shower and to sleep forever (he’s not being dramatic, no.)
Faking sickness or an injury won’t work – everyone saw him right before he started walking home. They also have access to his schedule, so he can’t claim he has something else to go to. Well. That leaves him out of options.
Chan’s dorm is closer to the elevator than his. He’ll pop in, get an idea of what’s up next today, then sneak out again to take a shower.
Simple.
Easy.
As he approaches Chan’s door, he tells himself work will probably actually be good for him. He’s good at what he does and he enjoys doing it, he really couldn’t ask for anything better. So what if things get complicated every now and then?
Reaching for the door handle, he’s almost glad to know what he’s about to walk into. He’ll be productive. It’ll serve as a nice distraction. Besides, he thinks he hears the others inside – he won’t be alone with his thoughts any longer.
He’s made as much peace with the rest of his day as he possibly could by the time he swings the door open.
Seungmin yelps. Like a scared puppy.
The eight of you spring into action, but it’s far too late. Han bolts to hide behind a pillow. You rush to throw on the nearest shirt. It’s the last thing Seungmin sees before slamming the door closed again.
A cacophony of noise resounds from behind that same door, but it’s drowned out by the buzzing in his own head. Reality crashes into him all at once. The force of it staggers him backwards, and his back hits the drywall behind him with a thud. He leans against the wall all the way to the carpeted floor.
He should have realized sooner.
The whole time, everything was right in front him. Jeongin flipped like a switch for you and Han. Hyunjin and Felix could not have been more obvious if they tried. Changbin might as well have outright confessed. What’s so wrong with him that he couldn’t see it?
What’s so wrong with him they didn’t want him?
Seungmin stares at the ceiling as if it will provide answers. Their perpetually-dead lightbulb is now on. It’s been burned out ever since they moved in, years ago. He wonders who fixed it, and when it got replaced. He wonders when everyone started– nope. He’s not thinking about that right now.
He’s aware he’s flailing – however, being aware and stopping are two completely separate things. He’ll get up off the ground when he’s more stable, but until then, he’ll sit in denial.
He’ll leave them alone, like he’s been doing, without him.
At some point, Chan’s door opened again. Seungmin steeled himself for the inevitable, but Chan was quiet when he joined him in the hallway and sat opposite him. Both of their legs stretched out in front of them, as mirror images of one another. Chan sat there as if this was a normal day. Not rushing, not putting pressure on him. Just existing with him.
Every so often, Chan brushes his leg against Seungmin’s, but makes no mention of it. They stay in the same position for a few more minutes, which gives Seungmin time to slow his mind a miniscule amount.
He’s panicked before. Twice, he’s done this exact thing, and he keeps kicking himself for his inability to say anything. That’s not going to happen. He’s going to speak this time, and he knows this situation requires tact and grace, and he will not mess this up again.
He simply can’t help that he’s a bit dumb right now.
“You’re wearing pants,” he says.
Chan, for what it’s worth, is not jarred by Seungmin pointing out the obvious. “Yeah, I am,” he responds.
“That’s new.”
“Listen,” Chan says with a grimace. “I’m sorry you saw that. Felix was supposed to let you know to hang out at your place for a bit.” He does seem genuinely regretful Seungmin walked in.
Seungmin pulls out his phone, and sure enough, Felix did text him ten minutes ago. The notification sits at the top of his screen. “Oh, now he texts me,” he mutters.
“What? Did he just text you?”
“No – it doesn’t matter.” Seungmin puts his phone back in his pocket and braces his palms against the ground. “I’ll get out of your way, I don’t think you guys want me around right now anyways.”
He’s met with complete silence. He stops himself from standing and looks up at Chan. His leader’s expression is beside himself, stricken and confused.
“Is that what you think? That we don’t want you around?” Chan nearly whispers. Seungmin had to strain to even hear it. Chan continues, his voice faintly rising. “We thought you were still getting comfortable with us. We were – shit – we were giving you your space. Of course they like you, Min.”
“You - huh?”
“I mean, I know she, Jinnie, and Felix slipped up, they told me about that. But did you actually think we didn’t want to be with you too?” He sounds desperate now, hoping Seungmin will give him any other answer than the one he already heard.
Seungmin can’t.
They want him.
They want him in the same way he wants them. In the same way he’s spent all this time pining after each one, so convinced it would never happen for him. Forcing himself to accept the painful closeness, because at least it was better than being apart.
“Seungmin.” Chan’s voice brings him back.
“Hm?”
“Do you want to go inside?” Chan must have seen Seungmin’s hesitancy written on his face, as he adds, “I made them put on clothes, I promise. They’d just like to see you, if you’re okay with that.”
Seungmin nods, and Chan rewards him with another smile. It’s the same smile he showed you, all those nights ago.
This time, the scene on the other side of the door is drastically different. For one, Chan was right, everyone is wearing clothes. Seungmin allows himself to feel disappointed about that, because he can and because you want him.
For another, a multi-sided war is about to break out, localized entirely within Chan and Jeongin’s living room.
Minho sits on the floor with his arms around Han, who’s animatedly talking and gesturing to Changbin and Hyunjin on opposite sides of their couch. He’s going at the speed of light, but Seungmin definitely hears his name and drove him away.
You, Felix, and Jeongin aren’t faring too much better, exchanging hushed words in the relative privacy of Jeongin’s doorway.
Chan clears his throat. Everything stops.
Every head turns, as if on a synchronized swivel, to stare at Seungmin. Seungmin is eerily reminded of walking in late to his school classrooms.
Han is the one to break the silence. “Do you… You’re here,” he says, wide-eyed.
“I’m here,” Seungmin confirms.
“To stay?” Han brings his hand up to clutch Minho’s. He does it slowly, like any sudden movements will scare away Seungmin. Not a bad move, all things considered.
His eyes find yours across the crowded room. You’re watching him intently, nervous but trying to hide it. He could recognize your specific behavior anywhere. “To stay,” he confirms again.
“I need to hear you actually say it,” Hyunjin speaks up. “You’re staying with us, like, romantically? Ow! Why?” he groaned in response to Jeongin lightly pushing him.
“He got the romantically part,” Jeongin whispers, loud enough for everyone to distinctly hear him.
“He obviously didn’t!” Hyunjin protests.
Felix, luckily, takes over before they can devolve further. “What they’re trying to say–” Felix shoots a pointed look over at them, “–is that we want to be as clear as possible in telling you that we would love to have you join this with us. Obviously, we’d go as fast or as slow as you’re comfortable with.”
“And you’re sure?” Seungmin questions, about all of it. His heart never calmed down, but now it stands still and frozen, whether it will keep beating entirely contingent on the answer.
Minho barks a disbelieving laugh.
“Are we sure?” Changbin repeats, looking at him as if he said something stupid. “Yes. One-thousand percent sure. We’ve had conversations about how sure we are.”
One by one, each of you echo Changbin’s sentiments, confirming Seungmin’s long-since buried hopes in various ways. It will take a while for Seungmin to get used to the pure relief floating him through air. He feels weightless. There’s nothing to hide anymore.
He takes a deep breath. “Then yes, I want to be part of.. whatever this is. Please.” There was probably a better, more eloquent way to phrase it, but Seungmin doesn’t care. He doesn’t think anyone else does either.
The dam breaks.
Seungmin hardly gets any warning at all, just a blur of movement, before Han crashes into him, sending him stumbling backwards and directly into Chan’s chest. He’s completely engulfed in seconds. With Han wrapping himself around his chest and Chan at his back, it’s hard to find any more space, but as always, everyone finds a way.
“Aww, Minnie, you love us!” Jeongin’s teasing lilt rings out above everything else, his own smile taking up half his face.
Seungmin is unable to contain his matching grin, but he doesn’t let that stop him from rolling his eyes and muttering, “Shut up, I hate all of you.”
Everything about him immediately betrays that lie.
Before, he would have either pushed them away or slipped out, armed with an excuse to protect himself. He would have ignored it as best he could, and would have only allowed himself to feel the extent of his hurt once he was truly alone.
Now, Seungmin chooses to believe that he is desired just as much as he desires, if not more. That his strongest fantasies are real, and the reality far outweighs even the best ones. He will need time to fully convince himself of that, but he finally has unrestrained time with the people he loves. He accepts your love with open arms.
weeks later, seungmin gets home from a long walk to find everyone in a ludicrously gigantic cuddle pile. changbin and minho are both holding controllers. changbin looks overjoyed. minho, less so. mileena’s fuckass long fatality sequence is playing on screen.
☆ note: it's published!! this specific draft has been driving me absolute bananas for longer than i'd like to admit. every time i tried (and i did try) to abandon it i'd hear it calling to me like the green goblin mask. as always, ty for reading, love you <3
taglist: @emilyywhyy @velvetmoonlght @opiumfidgetspinner @bahngarang @angelwings-fly @pixie-felix @certainstarfishmiracle @luvvvivi @strhwa @ayedomino008 @breakmeoff @foppishitudinality @ilovedallywinston @cookiewookie9t @astrayapple @teffyx @geni-627 @kpopgirliez @imnotsupposedtobedoingthis @bunny-2473
lmk if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!
Summary: Everyone has soulmarks, whether you can see them or not. They don't always appear at birth, instead appearing once the other half of the soulbond is alive.
Most people are born with one mark, for their perfect match, but you... had eight. Your mom said it was a gift, to have so many people who were destined to love you.
But would it be so easy?
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: 🥺 Thank you so much for the love on the prologue! This fic will occassionally have text messages, but i've found, in written fics, I just like typing out the texts LOL so no pics of them.
Hope you enjoy this chapter!
⁽ᵈᶦᵛᶦᵈᵉʳ ᵖᶦˣᵉˡ ᵃʳᵗ ᵇʸ ᵐᵉ⁾
(writing masterlist) | (Prev Chap) >> (Next Chap)
If someone had told you 4 years ago that you would be working as a stunt person on the set of a Marvel movie, you would’ve screamed in excitement. Now, here you were on the set of Deadpool and Wolverine and you still couldn’t believe it.
The majority of the filming was taking place in England. You’d flown out a few weeks ago and had enjoyed being able to spend some of your downtime exploring the country. You were going to be here for another couple weeks, at least.
Which meant your timer was going to run out before you returned home.
Your boys knew you were out of the country for a shoot. They’d all been excited for you. You hadn’t mentioned where you were going specifically, but now you were more curious if your timer meant you were going to meet all of them or not.
Over the past two and a half years, you’d basically deduced which of the boys correlated to which of your marks. Jeongin was easiest when you spotted his heterochromia. The second easiest was the birthday mark on your right wrist. It matched Han’s birthday perfectly.
Seungmin had been an interesting one to figure out. Ever since you determined that Stray Kids, or at least three of them, were your soulmates, you found yourself keeping a closer eye on what they did. As they did more interviews, you eventually learned about Seungmin’s original desire to play baseball professionally until he had a serious injury that stopped his career.
You could remember the day clearly. You’d been trying to go to sleep when a scream had left your mouth before you could fully process what had happened. You now knew, years afterwards, that that was when Seungmin had injured himself and had to take time off from playing baseball.
The timer you were able to figure out because of how often Felix had his wrists covered. Looking at him, it just felt right.
Which left Minho as the owner of the words on your waist.
“You know, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
It was probably due to the ever ticking clock of the timer on your wrist, continuing to get closer and closer to becoming 0, that your soulmates were at the forefront of your mind that day.
Of course, you had nearly 24 hours left on the clock, so as you headed to set that day, you were completely relaxed.
For some reason it didn't occur to you that you could meet some of the others before the timer ran out.
(Chan's POV)
Logically, Chan knew you were a stunt actor.
He’d found out about a year after you’d discovered Stray Kids. The two of you had been catching up, night time for him but early for you, when you moved a certain way and winced.
“You okay?” He’d signed.
You grimaced. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Apologize to Seungmin for me, though.”
That made him pause. Thinking about it, he did recall Seungmin holding onto a similar spot and wincing early this morning.
You must’ve picked up on his confusion because a sheepish look crossed your face. “We share a pain bond.”
“You do? What happened to you?” He fired off.
“I was pretty sure, yeah. I figured it out because of his serious injury he had that made him not do baseball, it lined up with a pain I felt that I’d distinctly remembered due to how… intense it had been,” you explained. “And I’m fine, it happened at work, but it was nothing too bad.”
“At work?”
“I’m a stunt actor,” you said.
His eyes widened more. “Stunt work? That’s so dangerous! What about Seungmin, too, now both of you are just getting hurt?”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “First of all, don’t think I didn’t consider him when making my decision. Secondly, I’m no more likely to get hurt doing my job than you guys are dancing and jumping around on stage. Contrary to popular belief, stunt actors don’t exist to be beaten up, but rather to do the highly skilled movements that a lot of actors can’t do or aren’t comfortable doing.”
Chan mulled that over, sighing. “Sorry, I just… I can keep an eye on Seungmin, but I can’t keep an eye on you and it makes me… nervous.”
Your expression shifted into a fond smile. “I appreciate that, but I promise I’m as safe as I can be.” Your smile grew. “Studios don’t want me hurt, either. Not only because of union laws but because if I’m out of commission, then the stunts don’t get done. I’m not a punching bag to them.”
“That does make me feel better.”
So yes, Chan knew that you did stunt work. You’d also told him (and Changbin and Hyunjin) that you were going abroad for work for a few weeks. This meant you were likely actively working on a project.
That didn’t make him any more prepared to walk into the hotel bathroom that morning and watch you get thrown against the glass, face contorted in pain.
Your appearance wasn’t one of your usual fashion choices. You were in a scrappy outfit and you were covered in dust and grime. The way your back arched off the ground as you hit the glass still made him wince.
You not getting up for a moment didn’t help either.
You didn’t appear to realize he could see you in that moment. He wondered what reflective surface you could possibly be on, but before he could try to get your attention, it looked like you were dragged away.
What the hell.
He stared at his own eyes for a moment, trying to be logical about it all. You were at work. It was just for show. You were fine.
Right?
God he didn’t even have Seungmin here to ask if you’d gotten hurt, and it was late in Korea right now. Plus, Seungmin was with his family so he didn’t want to bother him-
“Hyung? Can I come in?”
Chan blinked as he tried to reorient himself in the present. “Yeah,” he said, surprised his voice came out as calmly as it did. “I’m decent.”
Jisung snorted as he opened the door. “As if I haven’t seen it before,” he teased. He glanced up, catching Chan’s gaze in the mirror, and his eyebrows furrowed. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”
Chan laughed, though it sounded a little strained. “I'm fine. I, uh, I saw Y/N and it shocked me a little bit. But I'm all good.”
He felt a tug on his hand and noticed Jisung absent-mindedly fiddling with the red string connecting them. “Okay, if you're sure.” He managed a smile, voice turning teasing. “Maybe you should stay away from the caffeine this morning, though, if Y/N already has you jumpy. Don't need you flying out of your skin when you see Ryan Reynolds today.”
Chan shoved at Jisung's shoulder good naturedly, making the younger laugh. “Yah! I get no respect around here.”
Currently, 6 out of the 8 members of Stray Kids were all in the UK. Hyunjin and Felix were staying at a different hotel, put up by the respective fashion companies they were here to work with. The other four of them, Chan, Changbin, Han, and Jeongin, were at their own hotel. They had a suite that was able to sleep all four of them, and today they'd been invited to go on set of Deadpool and Wolverine.
They'd ended up writing a song for the soundtrack, which they'd been beyond honored to do. They also had filming planned for a couple weeks from now with Ryan for their upcoming music video.
Chan wished more of the members had been able to come on set today, but this had been the time that worked best for all of their schedules. Seungmin and Minho assured him they were okay. They both had the week off and were spending it with their families.
At least Felix and Hyunjin would be able to join them for dinner tonight.
“So, did Y/N do something that shocked you?” Jisung prodded as they both finished their morning routines in the bathroom.
“Ah, kinda?” Chan answered hesitantly as they stepped out of the bathroom.
The boys all knew about Y/N at this point. You’d eventually agreed it was silly to keep it a secret, but when the timer didn’t change on your or Felix’s wrists, they knew they wouldn’t be rushing meeting anytime soon.
Although, said timer was at less than a day now. For Felix, at least.
Could you be here in the UK? Would Felix have to leave early for some reason and that’s when you’d meet him?
“You saw Y/N?” Changbin asked, clearly having overheard the conversation as he and Jisung stepped back into the main room.
Chan nodded. “Yeah. She…” he thought about it and then sighed. He didn’t like lying to them, so he wouldn’t. “She was slammed against the glass, or whatever surface she was on, and she looked like she was in pain. So it freaked me out a bit.”
“What?” Changbin and Jisung shouted at the same time.
“What are we talking about?” Jeongin asked as he stepped out of the walk-in closet their suite had.
“Y/N’s hurt,” Changbin answered. Before Jeongin could panic, Chan was putting his hands up.
“I didn’t say that. I said she looked like she was in pain,” he stressed. “We know what her job is. She said she was abroad for work right now, so she was probably doing a stunt. She definitely wasn’t in her usual clothes and she had dirt all over her. It was probably acting!”
“Ugh, I wish Hyunjin was here,” Jisung grumbled, “He could check on her.”
“I’m sure hyung is right,” Changbin reassured, though he still looked a little stressed. “Besides, Felix is going to meet her soon, so we’ll all meet her soon, I’m sure. Then we can check on her ourselves.”
“That's still like, a full day from now,” Jisung groaned dramatically.
“We waited years, we can wait a few more hours,” Jeongin replied, rolling his eyes.
Chan snorted. “When did you get wise?”
“Shut up,” Jeongin grumbled, blushing. “It's what you've said before, too.”
“Come on, the car's gonna be here in an hour and we still need breakfast,” Changbin said, nudging his partners to keep moving. “I, for one, am not going to be late to meet Ryan Reynolds.”
(Your POV)
Your scene partner reached out a hand to you, pulling you up from where you'd “collapsed” on the ground yet again. You were filming a fight scene and you were one of many background characters who were getting shoved around.
It was fun, as usual.
You grinned, thanking the person as the rest of you shuffled over to take a snack break. They were going to be doing some close up shots next and you weren't needed for those, so you had about an hour break.
One of the other girls on set, Jackie was her name, bounded up to you with a grin. “Woo break time!”
You laughed as you grabbed some chips and a drink. “Yeah, gotta stretch out a bit after all that rough and tumble.”
Jackie, who was probably a handful of years older than you, nodded. “Yeah, that was fun but oof, I need to work on my backrolls more for sure.”
The two of you kept chatting as you both grabbed some food and found a place to sit for a bit. The two of you had met on your second day here and quickly hit it off. You always liked making a set friend on new shoots, so you were glad you'd found Jackie.
It made the downtime way more enjoyable.
“So,” Jackie started, sounding conspiratorial as she leaned in closer to you, “did you hear we were getting guests today?”
You tilted your head. “Like some other actors?”
She shook her head. “I heard they're just visiting set. That they got personally invited by Ryan. Apparently it's some boy band that has a song on the soundtrack.”
Your heart picked up. “Wait, Stray Kids?”
“Yeah them!” Jackie said excitedly.
“Where did you hear that?” You asked, trying not to sound too eager. “Are you sure?”
Jackie laughed. “I mean, my sources are good,” she wiggled her eyebrows at you. “What, you a fan or something?”
You snorted, unable to hide a smile. “Something like that.”
Jackie shoved at your shoulder playfully. “Well let's finish our food and scout around then!”
“Oh, it's fine. I don't wanna bother them,” you said dismissively, a part of your heart flaring up at the thought of Jackie being there when you met the boys. “I might actually find a couch to crash on for a bit.”
She shrugged. “Honestly, that sounds nice. I may go find a tree to park myself under.” She stood up, gathering her trash as she did. “See ya back on set!”
“See ya!” You said with a wave. Once she started to step away, you quickly gathered your trash, too. Standing up, you tossed it in the garbage can before speed walking towards the front of the lot.
Or, not quite a lot, more like just a sanctioned off area.
You didn't know what you were looking for, exactly. You didn't even know what time they were going to supposedly be there. You could ask someone, probably, but would they even know or be straightforward with you?
What if they weren't even coming today? Sure your timer with Felix was at less than a day, so they were at least in the country-
Suddenly you spotted a black SUV driving down the dirt road that led to the film site. You felt your heart begin to race as you stood off to the side, watching it approach.
It could literally be anyone else. Who was Jackie to be in the know about this kind of stuff? Calm down heartbeat!
As the car came to a stop, you saw two PAs walk up and wait as the backdoor opened. You resisted the urge to step forward and get a better look as the people exited the car.
Turns out you didn't have to move. You'd recognize that silhouette anywhere.
At that moment, you didn't care about decorum. “Chris!” You called out, waving your hand.
His head snapped to you, looking confused at first before his eyes met yours. His jaw dropped, eyes widening as he realized who you were.
You couldn't hold yourself back anymore, jogging over with a wide grin as three more of your boys piled out of the car. You saw Chris wave off the PA just before you made it into his open arms.
He was instantly holding you close, arms locked around you as both laughed excitedly.
“So that's what your voice sounds like,” he breathed against your shoulder quietly, voice full of wonder.
“Hey! Quit hogging her!” Changbin chided, nudging the two of you.
You were still giggling as Chris set you down. You instantly leaned into Changbin, who wrapped his arms around your waist, lifted you up, and spun you in a circle.
Jisung grabbed you next. “Oh my god, it's so good to finally meet you.”
“You too Jisung,” you replied fondly.
When you pulled back, you saw Jeongin waiting beside Chris. You beamed at him and opened your arms, which was all the invite he needed before he hugged you, too.
“I know you're not usually a hugger,” you started, but he shook his head.
“No, no, you're an exception now, too,” he told you seriously, making you smile more.
As Jeongin finally let go, you found yourself glancing at the car. You knew, logically, that no one else had come along but you still found yourself longing.
Chris seemed to read your mind. “Felix and Hyunjin are both at fashion events today. Seungmin and Minho are home with their families.”
“You knew Felix wouldn't be here,” Han said, gesturing to your wrist.
You groaned playfully. “I knoww but I still hoped.”
Suddenly Han grinned, doing a small fist bump. “We met you first! Oh they're gonna be so jealous.”
Changbin's arm slipped around your waist, pulling you against his side. “We should take a selfie.”
“Already on it,” Jisung agreed, sliding in as Chris and Jeongin squished you in between the four boys. You laughed again, throwing up a peace sign when the other boys did as a few pictures were snapped.
“Hey boys!”
The five of you glanced up to see Ryan Reynolds coming over. He looked at you with slight concern and you quickly realized how it looked.
He probably thought you were just a fan bothering them.
He schooled his expression into a grin, clapping his hands together. “So glad you found the place okay! I'm not interrupting anything, am I?”
You tried to step back, but Changbin kept his arm around you, making you blush slightly. “No, you're fine! Sorry, we're friends and we haven't seen each other in a while.”
The other boys nodded in agreement and Ryan's smile instantly grew into something more sincere. “Well isn't it a small world! So glad you got to have a little reunion. You're Y/N right? One of the stunt actors?”
You beamed. “Yes, that's me!”
“Well, Y/N, I'm sorry but I need to steal your friends for a second,” he told you. “I'll make sure to have a PA connect you guys again later.”
“No worries,” you reassured him. “I have to be back on set in 20 minutes anyway.”
Ryan grinned. “Maybe the boys can see you perform then!”
All four boys perked up excitedly and you blushed. You were used to people watching you, sure, but they were your soulmates. It felt different.
“That'd be fun,” Chris agreed with a cheeky smile.
“Only if you guys aren't busy,” you tried to argue weakly, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks.
Ryan waved you off. “We'll have time for sure!”
You laughed weakly. “Great, sick, I'll just… see you guys then.”
The boys waved to you as you headed away to use up the last of your free time before returning to work.
(Han Jisung's POV)
There'd been multiple times in Han's life where he imagined how and when he'd meet his soulmates.
Like most people, he talked about it with his friends growing up. From theorizing on the first words on his skin, to talking about the red string that was on his ring finger.
He found out fairly quickly that most people didn't have multiple soulmates to theorize on, and if they did they certainly didn't have eight. Luckily, a few of his marks weren't visible and he didn't even know, as a kid, that he would have a total of eight.
So he kept the extra marks to himself, the random emotions he felt that weren’t his own, the dreams he had of places he'd never seen with people he didn't recognize. They were meant for him, after all, not anyone else.
But then, he somehow got lucky and met nearly all of his soulmates within a year of joining the idol trainee program.
He could still remember the warm, fluttery feeling he got when he realized his red string was connected to a boy seated across the mess hall from him.
Chris.
So for a while, he didn't have to theorize anymore. He'd found seven of his soulmates by his teenage years, and not many people could say that.
But the birthdate that was written on his wrist still stared at him. It didn't belong to any of the boys in his group, not even Woojin.
Was his last soulmate okay? When were they going to meet?
He just hoped they weren't alone, wherever and whoever they were. He was so lucky to be surrounded by people who loved him, even if that love took a while to foster, that he just hoped they were the same.
And then, a couple years after they debuted, and after Woojin had left the group, they all got confirmation of what they suspected.
All eight of the boys were soulmates with each other, and they were all missing one soulmate, still.
It was the same person.
Chan had come in that morning for practice looking sheepish. Hyunjin was standing on one side of him, and Changbin on the other.
“So, about our last soulmate…”
Chan and Hyunjin explained that she had reached out asking if they were Stray Kids. The three of them then went on to talk about who she was and how they figured out that she was the same person.
She was the birthdate listed on his wrist.
That was also when he, well they, found out that it'd likely be more than 2 years still until they met her. All thanks to the timer on Felix's wrist.
So he went back to imagining how it'd happen.
Would it be at a concert? Would they stumble into each other at a cafe? Would it be here in Seoul or somewhere else in the world? She lived in LA, surely they'd visit there someday.
But none of it compared to how it actually happened.
They'd barely gotten onto set when someone shouted Chris's name. Just as Han was worried about a Super Fan being among the cast, he noticed Changbin's face light up.
The three of them stepped out of the car in time to see a girl all but jump into Chan's arms. Their leader was beaming and excitedly holding her against him, so clearly it wasn't unwelcomed.
“Hey! Quit hogging her!” Changbin complained as he opened his arms to also accept a hug from the girl.
Holy shit, was this her?
Han and Jeongin both glanced at Chan, whose face was flushed with delight. He met their gaze and nodded.
Han didn't hesitate then, immediately stepping up to be the next to hug her. “Oh my god, it's so good to finally meet you.”
It was perfect. It was exactly how it was supposed to happen.
And also, they met her before the other boys, which made him want to cackle with glee.
Ryan had semi-interrupted their moment with Y/N, but they were here to see him so Han didn't actually blame him. Once they parted ways with a promise to be reunited later, and maybe even get a chance to see Y/N in her element, Han finally whipped out his phone.
Group Chat: 🐺🐈⬛️🐷🥟 The Shelter 🐿🐥🐶🦊
Han: [img.jpg]
Han: 😎😎😎 look who we finally met
Han: (it's Y/N)
Bokbokkie: !!!!!
Jeanie: aren't you guys at the Deadpool set today??
Breaded Maknae: she's working here!
Bokbokkie: 😭😭😭 its not faaair i dont get to meet her til tomorrow
Minniemin: yah try being in another country
Lee MineHoe: don't scare her off before we get to meet her
Binch Press: YAH we would never!
Han jumped when someone nudged his side firmly. He looked up from his phone and saw Chan giving him a look. He smiled sheepishly, slipping his phone in his pocket as he saw Jeongin and Changbin do the same thing.
He was excited about their soulmate, sue him!
They'd already been given a tour of the set, with Ryan sharing various stories from filming so far. It was honestly fun and super cool to see, but he was still a little distracted.
A loud horn was heard across set, catching the group's attention.
“Well, that's our cue,” Ryan said, voice getting a bit quieter. “That means they're about to start filming again, a ‘quiet on set’ for those of us across the lot.” He gestured for them to follow. “So stay hush hush. It's just around this corner. You guys can watch for a bit.”
Their group wasn't unfamiliar with film sets. They'd shot plenty of music videos at this point, but that didn't make it any less fun to watch.
Plus the costumes here? Next level.
As if pulled by a magnet, Han quickly spotted Y/N in the crowd of people. She glanced over at them and smiled, waving to their group.
The director called action and her expression instantly shifted. Other actors moved around her, but Han's gaze was fixed on her. She shifted with the group until suddenly, a light flashed and all of them threw themselves backwards.
She did it so effortlessly. If he didn't know better he would've actually thought something had shoved her away. She rolled over her shoulder, landing with a thud.
Then the director called cut and she hopped to her feet with a grin, as if nothing had happened.
The group got to watch as cameras shifted and the scene was repeated a few times until the director called it good. Y/N shared some words with some of her castmates before heading over to them.
“So, what do you think?” She asked.
“That was so cool!” Han declared, making her beam but also blush.
Chan nodded. “It was really neat seeing everyone so in their element. You did great.”
You waved them off, but Changbin barrelled on. “No, honestly, those rolls? How you threw yourself? You made it look easy!”
Y/N giggled and Han immediately decided he needed to hear it daily, at minimum. “Well thank you guys, I'm glad you thought it was fun.”
“How much longer do you have to work today?” Chan asked.
“I'm actually done! They try to work us in blocks so we aren't sitting around all day. They're doing stuff with the big wigs next.”
Jeongin nodded. “They do that with us too for photoshoots and music videos. We aren't all always on set at the same time.”
“So you're saying we can steal you away then?” Han asked with a grin.
Y/N tilted her head. “Are you done with whatever Ryan needed you for?”
They all nodded. “We got the tour. We really weren't here for anything big. They just wanted to show us around set and stuff since we have a song in the soundtrack.”
“That's so exciting by the way, congrats on that!” Y/N said with a grin.
Changbin smiled back. “Well writing that song was the final step to seeing you, wasn't it?”
She smiled bashfully at them and Han just wanted to steal her away forever. “Just as it was meant to be, right?”
genre: soulmate au, Christmas train setting, fluff, mentions of anxiety
wc: 3.6k
summary: Some people got names scrawled on their bodies. Some people got timers, numbers ticking down to the enviable conclusion. Others still saw red threads, a thin line connecting you physically to your fated other, no matter the distance.
You? You got linked dreams but only for 31 days of the year.
a/n: day 29 of the A Very Merry KPOPmas! thank you to @breakmeoff and @angel-writes-skz-here for running the event! i had a lot of fun writing this one - my first SKZ fic! if you enjoyed this, please like, reblog and comment 💕
The shoulder you were resting on shifted and the hand around your waist tightened. You blinked up at Changbin, who had already turned to look down at you with a delighted grin.
He looked the same as the last time you saw him. The same soft eyes, the same sweet smile, the same bronzed complexion. You couldn’t help but take time to watch him, to soak in every pore, every perfectly imperfect feature of his face. It was fine because he did the same, watching you like you were a second from disappearing.
“You dyed your hair,” you finally said.
Changbin huffed a laugh, his free hand coming up to play with the copper strands that fell over his face. “Do you like it?”
You hummed approvingly. “Love it.”
And when he smiled, he bared his teeth and you fell in love all over again.
“Where are the others?” You asked.
Changbin nuzzled his face into your cheek. “Late schedules,” he murmured, “they’ll be here soon.”
You turn your head until you can brush your lips against his. His breath hitched, surprised, excited, just like it always did.
“I missed you,” you whispered, “all of you.”
Changbin kissed back, firmer, trying to pour a year’s worth of affection into one single touch. You relaxed into him instinctively, eyes fluttering, lips parting to accept anything he wished to give you. You were flushed and trembling when you parted, not too far, not wanting to physically separate more than necessary. It had been so long since you had been kissed properly, even if it was just a dream.
“Us too,” he replied quietly, “so much.”
-
When you were younger, you didn’t think too much on soulmates. They were something the grown-ups spoke about, not something you concerned yourself with.
All you knew is that on the first of December, your dreams would change and you’d see your friends. Eight of them, a few older than you, a few younger. You didn’t speak the same language as most of them (only Chris and Felix spoke English and as a child, you had zero knowledge of Korean) but you didn’t need that to be able to play.
You got very good at gesturing to get your point across.
It was always the same place - a train that seemed to chug endlessly around a snow-covered landscape. It never stopped anywhere, never slowed down, never sped up, but it was always on its way.
To where? None of you knew.
You and your friends had free run of the corridors, playing hide and seek between plush seats and drinking endless amounts of hot chocolate that always seemed to appear as you thought about it.
And when new year stuck, your dreams would return to the empty slate they were before and you’d have to wait another year to see them again.
You were eight when you mentioned it to your mother, exclaiming your determination to go to bed early, and she carefully explained what a soulmate link was.
Some people got names scrawled on their bodies. Some people got timers, numbers ticking down to the enviable conclusion. Others still saw red threads, a thin line connecting you physically to your fated other, no matter the distance.
You? You got linked dreams but only for 31 days of the year.
As you got older, into your heartbroken and dramatic teenager years, you’d hated it. Why did everyone else get to have this consistent link to the ones that they were destined to be with? Why were you and your soulmates relegated to this short burst of joy before it gets yanked away from you for another year?
“No one gets a choice of how it presents,” your father had tried to console.
“I’m sure your soulmates feel the same way,” your mother added, as if that would somehow help.
One tearful 31st December, when you were fifteen and emotions were increasingly too much for you to handle, you’d sobbed and told them that you hated that this would it for another 11 months.
“I’m going to miss you,” you’d cried.
Chris, already sixteen and acting like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, had gathered you close in gangly teenage arms and promised they’d miss you too. Changbin, more stotic in those times than he was now, kept a hand on the small of your back, expression set in grim sadness that matched your own.
Jisung, smaller, leaner but oh so sweet, had brushed away tears from your ruddy cheeks, even as his own eyes swelled. Minho said something, no doubt mocking, to him in Korean that you couldn’t understand yet, but never let go of Jisung’s hand.
Seungmin, quieter, shy with his affections, had looked away so you wouldn’t see the heartbreak in his eyes, but he’d held your hand until the last moment, pressing sweet kisses to the back. Jeongin, the youngest, excited but shy, offered words of comfort and demanded that Chris translate them exactly as he said them.
Felix, pretty even when flushed with tears, asked you to smile, not cry. “I want to remember your smile for the year,” he’d said earnestly. Hyunjin agreed and tried to make you laugh as best he could with a mix of broken English and Korean.
The joy you felt at the beginning of the month to the heartbreak at the end was hard, but that year, to fullfill your promise to your boys, you tried to be positive.
You threw yourself into Korean studies so that when Minho or Changbin or Jeongin spoke to you next December, you’d be able to answer them back. You had a notebook specially for writing down things you wished you could share with your soulmates. You filed away every piece of information they gave you over the month, hoping it would lead to something. Some way of finding them, of staying connected with them over the long period of emptiness.
It never did.
They all found each other in the end. Your talented, handsome soulmates. They were idols now, these famous figures that you could search for whenever you wanted.
And you did, frequently. It made your heartache and burst with happiness to see them together, whenever you wanted to.
“When we’re rich,” Jeongin had promised back when they’d debuted, his baby face just beginning to become more grown up, “we’ll fly you to Seoul.”
“I have university,” you’d shaken your head.
“School’s important,” Chris agreed.
Felix pouted. “But we want you with us.”
“When I come to Seoul, I need to know it’ll be forever,” you had confessed, “let me be equal to you.”
“You’re always equal,” Hyunjin had been quick to say.
You weren’t, you knew that. At that time, you were a debt-ridden second year, and they were making money you couldn’t begin to dream of, flying to places all around the world. Walking catwalks for designer labels and having fans who screamed their names daily.
You, with your literature degree, couldn’t match up.
But you would. You worked hard to get a first class, to join a publishing company as a translator, to build a name and a career for yourself. In the end, you didn’t need to be flown out to South Korea by your famous soulmates- you did that on your own, your company accepting your transfer to the Seoul offices.
You’d be moving before the new year, areas of your apartment already filing away into boxes, some already in transit to be at your new place when you arrived. It was a whirlwind, especially with the holiday season, but it felt like your life was heading towards an enviable conclusion.
You in Seoul with your soulmates.
Now you just need to tell them.
-
When the others arrived, it was like their bodies slipped from behind chairs or down corridors. As if they had always been there, just waiting for you. Sometimes, on the gentle rocking of the train carriage, it was hard to imagine them anywhere else.
Changbin had been giving you updates on the last year, as if you hadn’t been tracking their every public appearance. Still, you hummed and replied as if it was the first time you’d learned about it. Jisung’s shout of your name, full of excitement that he had every year, without fail, and you sat up straighter to see.
You caught him over the seats. He’d gotten broader of the last year, seemed to hold himself with more confidence that made your heart swell to see. His grin was blinding when his eyes landed on you.
Changbin made a show of holding on to you for a moment longer, mock whining about not wanting to share you just yet, before letting you go with a kiss and a soft smile.
You didn’t run to Jisung, but you did slam into him, fingers gripping at the back of his sleep hoodie, face pressing against the comforting warmth of his bared neck. His hands were under your thighs, lifting you up as you squeaked your complaints and tightened your legs around his waist.
God, he was stronger than last year. He was beaming at you, face bright and eyes warm, and you bumped your nose against his.
“I missed you, love,” he breathed, and you whispered it back, heart pounding in your chest.
Behind you both, someone made a noise of objection. “Ya! Put her down, I don’t want you to drop her.” Minho scolded.
Jisung huffed in disagreement, grip tightening. “I won’t,” he argued, “we’re in a dream. I’ll carry her forever.”
The declaration made you laugh, just it made Minho sigh fondly. You turned your head to watch him approach, each movement languid and relaxed, like you had all the time in the world. He smirked when he saw you looking and pressed in close to you, brushing your lips with his.
“You look good baby,” he whispered.
You hummed. You released one hand so that you could trace along his cheekbones. “How’s your ankle?”
Minho’s eyes flickered with surprise and then melted into affection. “Doesn’t hurt,” he promised.
“Between you and Minnie, I was worried you were working yourselves too hard,” you admitted.
When the news from the latest performances had come out to fans, you had admittedly panicked. Made you wish you’d asked for their numbers in the real world so you could reach out and soothe your own concerns. Hyunjin had offered them to you before, but honestly, you’d been afraid to accept it, as if they spent more time in your company, they’d somehow come to regret having you as their soulmate. An irrational fear born from distance.
It was hard to think that now, with Jisung’s forehead resting against your temple and Minho looking at you like you were the world.
“We are,” Jeongin stretched in the aisle, rolling tightness in his hips before grinning widely at you. “I need a holiday. Preferably on a beach with Noona.” He winked, and you flushed, charmed.
“Confident now, aren’t we daddy bread?” you teased, delighting in the way he went deliciously red.
Innie had gotten surer of himself, of his love, over the last few years but you enjoyed that he still folded under the lightest push back. You couldn’t wait to kiss the blush from his cheeks when you were alone – he wasn’t big on displays of affection in front of the others, each of his relationships with his soulmates private and personal. You appreciated that about him.
Unexpectedly, hands – slender fingers, cold metal of rings biting into the soft flesh above the band of your trousers – wrap around you securely and lift, much to Jisung’s vocal objections. You yelped when you dropped unexpectedly into a warm lap, but when your limbs were manhandled to turn, straddling someone’s lap, you knew exactly who it was.
Even messy with slumber, Hyunjin was sultry. The discovery of his sexual expression had been a delight for all who got to be on the receiving end of it as much as it was headache-inducing. Bare-faced, he looked at you with a sly uptick at the corner of his lips and intensely focused eyes. He was like that, you knew, his sole focus narrowed in on whoever he was talking to. He breathed your name and tugged you closer to put his lips on yours, a sensual slide that made your toes curl and a contented hum rise at the back of your throat.
“No fair,” Jisung pouted and then draped himself dramatically against Minho’s side.
Hyunjin pulled away, lips wet and pupils blown. “Sharing is caring,” he shot back.
“Says Mr Possessive,” Changbin teased. He had shifted so his legs were stretched out in the aisle between seats, arms crossed over his chest.
Hyunjin shot him a grin. “I don’t mind sharing you,” he said, “I’m sure baby doesn’t mind, do you?”
There was heavy implication in his words and heat curled up your neck.
A hand reached between seats and clapped Hyunjin on the back of the neck, making him yell in surprise. Chris stuck his head around the seats, an amused mix of interest and disapproval on his face. “Let’s keep it PG, Jinnie,” he ordered, “it’s only day one.” Then he looked at you, eyes softening with deep affection, “we have a lot to catch up on.”
Familiar paint chipped nails curled under your chin and urged you to look up. Felix’s smiling face was there, bare and flushed, nose wrinkled so cutely. “We missed you, darling,” he said.
“Missed you too,” you replied. Your eyes danced across your boys and frowned slightly. “Where’s Minnie?”
As if on command, the carriage door swung open and Seungmin stepped inside, hands in the pockets his sweatpants. You watched his gaze dance across them all before they landed on you and relaxed.
“Noona,” he smiled, that wide gummy smile that only seemed to wear when he was truly happy, “You look pretty.”
And it was like the world righted itself. Like the eleven months of the year without this were the real dream, the dimmed nightmare of life, while here, amongst the snow and your beloveds, you were finally alive once more.
Hyunjin must have felt you relax into him before his hands stroked a love heart into your hip. A silent mark upon you.
It was the evening of December 1st and you were finally happy again.
-
“If you get drunk in a dream, do you have a hangover in real life?” Jisung wondered out loud, staring into the depths of his mug of spiked hot chocolate.
“Haven’t we tested that one already?” Jeongin asked.
Changbin groaned dramatically. “Don’t remind me. We had dance practice the next day. Instructor-nim was mean.”
As you got older, the dining cart had expanded, adding floor tables and blankets that you would all huddle around. You were under Seungmin’s arm, who had dragged you close and refused to let go, no matter what his hyungs' said. Felix had squashed in on the other side of you, one of your hands tugged into his lap so he could trace the smooth edge of your Christmas nails.
Jisung was resting against Hyunjin, who initially loudly complained but now sat with his free hand under Jisung’s hoodie, fingers splayed across his stomach. Minho and Chris were shoulder to shoulder, brushing each other when they moved. Jeongin was braced up against the wall but had his bare feet under Changbin’s wide thighs, who was happily keeping them warm.
It was cozy, comfortable, building a sense of peace that you had almost forgotten could exist around you. You hoped it would feel the same way when you met in person.
Your stomach clenched nervously and made you feel momentarily sick. Alone in your apartment, the excitement for the move, for finally getting the chance to stop this horrific loneliness, your future had unfolded like a fairytale in front of you. Prince Charming (or eight of them), the princess and the happily ever after.
But now, for a terrifying moment, their bodies felt too warm. Too real. And you felt like one wrong word would ruin everything. It was an anxiety that you had to push down, because you knew it was just you imagining the worst-case scenario.
These boys, your soulmates – you’d known each other since you were all children, unaware of the way your lives were connected, unaware of what destiny dictated you to be. They’d seen you at your snotty childhood and your bratty teenage years; they’d cheered you through restless December nights of university. They’d seen your worst.
Yet they were still here. Holding on to you as tight as they held on to each other.
You grasped that precious knowledge tightly, unwilling to let it shatter.
“I,” your voice went dry. You cleared it and let your eyes dance just above their heads. If you didn’t look at them, you could be brave, you reasoned. “I have something to tell you.”
There was a weighted pause, the kind that wrapped and sunk you with anticipation. It wasn’t until Chris’ hesitant, worried voice said your name that you realised how it must have sounded to them.
You shook your head. “No, wait, it’s not bad. At least, I don’t think it’s bad. I hope you don’t think it’s bad.”
“Darling,” Felix said softly, raised your hand to press a kiss to the knuckles.
You shuddered a breath. “Okay, so I’m moving.” You licked your lips nervously, “to Seoul. I’m moving to Seoul.”
There was quiet for a moment and then –
“Wait, really?” Jisung sat up straight, eyes wide with unconcealed hope.
“How?” Minho demanded. His expression was fluxating between excitement and disbelief, like all his dreams were coming true.
Seungmin’s fingers flexed around your shoulder. “What about your job?” he sounded worried. He knew how much you loved your job at the publishing house, had spoken to him for hours about it one Christmas. He wanted you with them – god, did he want you there - but not at the expense of giving up something you adore.
You smiled up at him shyly. “They have a Seoul branch,” you explained, “They approved my transfer a few months ago.”
“When do you move?” Jeongin was practically vibrating.
“My flight is December 28th. I wanted to go earlier, but my parents demanded we spend one last Christmas together,” you said bashfully.
They had been so proud of you, always had been, but they knew, once you boarded that flight, once you were in the same space as your soulmates, it would be a while before they saw you in person. It both broke your heart and comforted you to know that.
“28th? Hyung, do we have a schedule?” Hyunjin asked.
Chris hummed thoughtfully. “One performance before our break, I think.”
“Do you have a ride from Incheon?” Felix asked eagerly. “Should we come?”
You laughed, joy and love overwhelming. “Babe, you can’t come and get me. What if people see?”
Changbin made a show of pouting. “But I want to see my baby as soon as she lands.”
Chris cooed and pinched his soulmate's puffy cheeks. “So cute,” he teased and laughed when Changbin whined in complaint. Then he looked to you with soft eyes, “We’ll ask someone from the company to come and get you, okay? And we’ll come to your new apartment, whenever you want us.”
“Immediately,” you answered honestly.
Seungmin brushed his lips against your cheek. His whispered voice was raw, honest and trembling. “Is this real?” he said, “you’re going to be with us? Really be with us?”
You turned so that you could kiss him, a firm touch of lips that still made your head spin like the first time. He let out a shaky breath against you, arm slipping to move around your waist, holding you closer. “It’s real,” you promised, “I'm so excited.”
“Us too,” Seungmin swore and kissed you again.
Later in the evening, just before the sun began peeking over the snowy mountain caps, and you knew that it would soon be time to return to the living world, Chris crowded you against a carriage door. He held you close, head dipped so you could feel his breath against your lips, the heat of his hand on your hips holding you still.
“This will be the best Christmas you know,” he confessed, “with you as our Christmas gift.”
Your fingers curled in the front of his hoodie. “I can’t wait to touch you for real,” you admitted, “to have you all on January 1st.”
Chris brushed a finger along your jaw. “You always have us,” he said, so sure, “Every morning, every evening, January to December. We’re yours. God, I can’t wait to see you outside of a train.”
You laughed. “It’ll be weird. Like you’re real people.” You joked, “I’ve seen you in pyjamas for the last twenty years. Do you even have normal clothes?”
“I bet you’ll look cute in our clothes,” Chris bumped his nose with yours.
You exhaled softly. “I can’t wait.”
“28 days,” he murmured.
“28,” you repeated.
You could feel the lightness in your head, the sign that it was time to wake up, to return to your normal life. This time, it didn’t feel devastating, like you were losing a part of yourself.
Because there was a countdown to when it would no longer just be a dream. Come the end of December, your boys wouldn’t fade away into greyness, wouldn’t be a wish for the entire year.
Come the end of December, you’d open your eyes in the morning, and they would still be there.
