Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Haoooo geeeee" Anxin whined clinging onto Jiahao's arms like a baby koala earning a fond giggle from the older. "Baobei, you will do fine." Jiahao said, patting his head gently.

It was probably one of the biggest days in the life of an 18 years old Zhou Anxin. Since the day mnet staffs announced this schedule to their C planet trainees, Anxin could barely contain his nervousness and anxiety. Cause what do they mean he was the Center of C planet and had to represent the entire C trainee lineup in Seoul , South Korea infront of not only Korean fans but also Planet K trainees?????

He doesn't know even a single Planet K people. He doesn't know who the Center was. He doesn't know how he compares to the K center. What if he fucks up???? What if--

Anxin's train of anxious thoughts were broken by the staffs asking them to queue for their final entrance.

Anxin stood at the very end of the queue, sunlight warming the back of his neck as he adjusted the strap of his mic pack. Ahead of him, the open-air venue stretched wide under a clear sky, banners snapping softly in the breeze and rows of fans already gathered behind the barricades. Cameras were lifted high, lenses glinting as they searched for every new face. This was the first time they would see him.

The noise reached him in waves. Laughter, excited chatter, the occasional squeal when another member stepped out. His heart thudded, loud in his ears, yet the brightness around him made everything feel startlingly real. He inhaled slowly, straightened his posture, and reminded himself to smile. When the cue came and he stepped forward infront, breathing in deeply for the very last time, to calm his nerves down.

He lifted his hand in a small wave, fingers trembling slightly and the fans responded instantly with rising cheers and cameras clicking in rapid bursts. Guided forward by the staff, Anxin took his place in the line, settling between Zhang Jiahao and a tall, strikingly handsome man whose presence felt very impossible to ignore. The man stood with relaxed confidence, broad shoulders catching the light, features sharp yet calm.

Anxin glanced at him briefly, then quickly looked away, a quiet conclusion forming in his mind. He must be the K-planet center.

There was something unmistakable about the way cameras seemed to gravitate toward him, the ease with which he carried himself, as though he belonged to a school romance kdrama as the main lead. Anxin straightened instinctively, palms damp, reminding himself to breathe as he faced the crowd again acutely aware of where he stood, and of the new world of responsibility he had just stepped into.

And then, without warning, the K-planet center reached out and held his sweaty hand.
Anxin stiffened for half a second, caught off guard by the sudden warmth of unfamiliar fingers lacing gently around his own. The gesture was simple, almost casual, yet it sent a quiet jolt through him, grounding and startling him all at once. He turned his head slightly, eyes widening just enough before he met the other man’s gaze. The man smiled at him making the fans infront go crazy with the small interaction.

Anxin swallowed, fingers curling back almost on instinct, and lifted his free hand to wave again, this time with a little more confidence.

The line eventually settled, the noise of the crowd rising and falling like waves against the open venue. Anxin stood where the staff had placed him, shoulders squared, chin lifted just enough to look confident. The hand holding his was still there; warm and steady anchoring him whenever the cameras swung too close. He waved when prompted, smiled when the cheers grew louder (or did the cheers grew louder because he smiled), let the sunlight wash over him as if it might burn the nervousness right out of his chest.

A few places down the line, someone kept looking at him but never long enough to be obvious at first glance. Just brief, almost unconscious glances, a pair of wide round eyes drifting in Anxin’s direction before pulling away, only to return moments later. When Anxin shifted his weight, the gaze followed. When he laughed, startled and soft, it lingered a second too long. There was something restless in the way the man stood, fingers curling loosely at his sides, his sharp jaw tightening whenever Anxin smiled at one of the trainees a little too brightly.

After the introductions wrapped up, the staff began moving them in small groups, calling out names and gesturing toward different corners of the venue. Anxin was gently guided out of line. The tall and handsome K center, who Anxin now knew was called Kim Geonwoo following close behind, both of them ushered toward a shaded spot where phones were already being held up for short reels and clips.
Geonwoo leaned in almost immediately, eyes lighting up the second Anxin laughed at something the staff said. “You’re really cute” he blurted, unable to help himself. He ruffled Anxin’s hair once, then again, hands hovering like he wanted to do more but was holding back by sheer will alone. It was the kind of affection that came easily to him; open, impulsive, unfiltered.

Anxin flushed, protesting weakly as he tried to smooth his hair down, a shy smile tugging at his lips evident from the hint of dimple appearing on his cheek even as he shook his head. The cameras loved it. Fans squealed from behind the barricades, delighted by the easy chemistry, the way Anxin’s ears turned red under Geonwoo’s attention.

A little distance away, someone had stopped pretending not to look. He stood just outside the frame, hands tucked into his pockets, posture deceptively relaxed. From there, all he could do was watch the way Anxin’s eyes sparkled, the way they curved when he smiled, the way his shoulders shook when he laughed, the way he instinctively leaned closer when someone spoke to him softly. Every small gesture felt magnified from the sidelines, each one settling somewhere heavy in his chest.

The cameras didn’t point his way. No staff called him over. There was no role for him in this moment except to witness. And so he watched quietly, eyes following Anxin from start to finish, committing details to memory he knew he’d never forget. The laughter reached him late, softened by distance, and he wondered what it would feel like to be the one standing there instead, close enough to make Anxin laugh like that. But he stayed where he was, rooted to the spot, unseen and unchosen, while the sun continued to shine far too brightly. The sun didn’t know he was being yearned for at all.

Chapter Text

The announcement came quietly, almost deceptively so. C-Planet and K-Planet were no longer separate. No more color-coded teams, no more invisible lines drawn by language or origin. From that point on, they were one group, merged schedules, shared spaces, reshuffled rooms and higher level of competition. The staff delivered the news like a logistical update, but the room shifted the moment the words settled. Some trainees exchanged glances, others nodded as if they’d been expecting it all along.

Anxin listened in silence, hands folded neatly in his lap. He felt neither relief nor panic. But the structure and environment he’d learned to rely on was gone, replaced by uncertainty dressed up as opportunity.

Room assignments were handed out soon after. Names were called one by one, paired together with the casual finality of a decision that couldn’t be appealed. When Anxin heard his own name, he looked up instinctively just in time to hear the one that followed. Kim Geonwoo.
For half a second, his mind went blank.
He glanced toward Geonwoo, who looked just as surprised, brows lifting before a slow, almost boyish grin spread across his face. “Guess we’re roommates,” he said lightly, as if it were nothing at all.

Anxin smiled back, polite and careful, even as his heart began to beat a little faster. “Looks like it,” he replied, voice steady enough to pass.

Across the room, someone else had gone very still. He didn’t look at the staff. Didn’t look at the list. His eyes were fixed on Anxin instead.
The merge was official. He would have higher chances of getting familiar with this little pretty chinese boy, now that Anxin was about to shift in the same dorm building as him.

Opportunity came faster than he thought.

The dorm was unusually quiet at night.
The hall lights were dimmed, footsteps muted by the thin carpet, the kind of stillness that made even the smallest sounds feel loud. Anxin moved carefully, hoodie pulled over his head, arms wrapped around himself as he slipped down the corridor like he had something to hide, which, technically, he did. His C-Planet friends had been complaining all evening about the snacks running out, and somehow Anxin had volunteered himself for a midnight mission.

The snacks room door creaked softly as he pushed it open. The lights were off, save for the faint glow spilling in from the hallway. For a second, he thought he was alone, just the way he wanted.

But much to his surprise, a boy sat cross-legged on the floor, back resting against the shelves, a half-opened snack bag cradled loosely in his hands. His hair was slightly messy, bangs falling into sleepy eyes that blinked slowly in Anxin’s direction. He chewed absentmindedly, like he’d been halfway to dozing off. When the door opened, and for a brief moment Anxin thought , he looked like a startled rabbit. Cute.

“Oh,” the boy murmured around a mouthful.

There was nothing intimidating about him. Just a harmless, delicate looking guy in a white tshirt and shorts, eyes soft and unfocused as he lifted the snack bag slightly, as if offering it by instinct. “…You want some?”

The question hung in the air, soft and unassuming. Anxin hesitated at the doorway, hand still on the knob, as if he might bolt at any second. Then the absurdity of the situation sank in and a quiet laugh slipped out before he could stop it.
“Sorry,” Anxin whispered, instinctively lowering his voice, not knowing what he was apologising for. “I didn’t know someone was here at this time.”
The boy shook his head slowly, as though the motion itself required effort. “It’s okay,” he said, words slightly slurred with sleep. He looked down at the snack in his hands, then back up at Anxin. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Anxin nodded, stepping inside and easing the door shut behind him. The shelves loomed around them, rows of neatly stacked snacks that suddenly felt far too tempting. “Me neither,” he lied easily, tugging his sleeves over his hands. “My friends were… hungry.”
That earned a small, drowsy smile.

The boy shifted to make space beside him, patting the floor in a silent invitation. Anxin sat, knees drawn close, their shoulders not quite touching but close enough to feel the warmth. There was only the quiet crunch of snacks, the hum of the old refrigerator working, the strange comfort of sharing a secret hour most of the world was asleep for.

The boy’s eyelids drooped again as he chewed, lashes casting faint shadows under the dim light. He looked peaceful, unguarded in a way made Anxin feel like a wolf for no apparent reason.

“What’s your name?” Anxin asked softly.
The boy blinked, as if pulling himself back from the edge of sleep. “Sangwon,” he replied after a beat.

Anxin repeated it silently to himself, committing it to memory, as Sangwon offered him the snack bag again.

Chapter Text

Sangwon held the snack bag out again. Anxin hesitated, then accepted it with both hands, careful not to make noise as he pulled a piece free. “Thank you,” he whispered, almost automatically.

Sangwon nodded, watching him chew. The way Anxin’s eyes softened, the way his shoulders relaxed as if the tension had finally drained from him, it made something warm settle in Sangwon’s chest. He reached into the bag again, offering it once more when Anxin had barely finished the first bite.

“You can take more,” he said. “There’s a lot.”

I could give him all my food... Sangwon thought to himself.

Anxin blinked, then smiled. “My friends are going to be really happy tonight,” he said, glancing toward the shelves as if already planning. Sangwon followed his gaze. For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then he shifted, setting the snack bag aside and standing up quietly. “Wait here,” he murmured. He moved with surprising care, pulling down packets one by one, choosing them thoughtfully. The quieter ones first. The softer wrappers. He handed them to Anxin, who accepted them with growing disbelief.

“You’re… helping me?” Anxin asked, voice barely audible.

Sangwon shrugged, ears turning pink. “You looked like you wanted snacks for your friends.."

They worked side by side after that, the distance between them shrinking with every shared glance and hushed laugh. When Anxin struggled to hide a packet, Sangwon wordlessly lifted up Anxin's hoodie, stuffing the packets inside.

Somewhere in the building, a door closed.
Both of them froze.

Sangwon lifted a finger to his lips instinctively, eyes flicking toward the hallway. When the sound didn’t return, he exhaled slowly, shoulders loosening.

Anxin cautiously opened the snacks room door and they moved through the hallway together, with light footsteps careful not to draw attention. Sangwon walked a step behind Anxin, arms full of snack packets. The faint rustle of wrappers muted against Anxin's hoodie reached Sangwon's ears. It felt oddly domestic..Like this was something they’d done a hundred times before..like it was the most natural thing for him to follow Anxin with blind trust.

When they reached Li Zihao and Xue Suren’s room, Anxin knocked softly, twice.
The door opened just enough for Zihao’s face to peek through, eyes widening the moment he saw the two very pretty boys standing infront of him. He ushered them inside in a hurry, shutting the door behind them with a quiet click.

Anxin set the packets down on the bed, lifted up his hoodie grinning as it spilled out chips, cookies, candy bars, far more than he’d planned. Sangwon put down his share of snacks too, piling over Anxin's. Xue Suren stared at them in stunned silence before breaking into a delighted laugh. And then Zihao looked up.

His gaze flicked from the snacks… to Sangwon… then back to Anxin.
“Whoaaa,” he whispered-shouted, eyes shining. “Indeed our C-Planet center” he pointed at Anxin dramatically “You befriended THE Lee Sangwon????”

Sangwon froze, color blooming instantly across his cheeks. “I--” he started, then stopped, unsure what to do with his hands.
Anxin laughed softly, a little embarrassed, a little proud. “He helped,” he said smiling ear-to-ear, glancing at Sangwon with unmistakable fondness, his snaggletooth showing.

He leaned closer to Suren, stage-whispering, “It’s been one night and he’s already recruiting big shots of K-Planet.

Sangwon ducked his head, heart racing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys stood lined up on the raised platform, shoulders nearly brushing as they waited for the team sorting to begin. Anxin shifted his weight slightly, then turned to the person beside him.

“Annyeonghaseyo” he said softly, bowing with practiced politeness, a sweet smile curving his lips making his dimple appear.

Sangwon startled for just a second before returning the bow, a faint pink blooming across his cheeks. As he straightened, his eyes lingered on Anxin’s face, mischief was flickering in those beautiful feline eyes. His mind drifted back to the quiet snacks room, the crinkle of wrappers muffled by laughter, Anxin crouched beside him as they’d stuffed pockets, hoodie and arms with stolen treats. He’d helped without a second thought.

Passing bags, keeping watch, whispering warnings when footsteps echoed down the hall. It had felt reckless in the gentlest way.  Later, Anxin had walked him to his room, eyes bright with gratitude leaving Sangwon smiling like a fool for a long time.

Now, standing side by side in full studio light, that memory pressed warmly against his chest. Sangwon swallowed, nodded once, and offered Anxin a shy smile in return.

Chapter Text

Yumeki’s voice echoed clearly across the studio as he finished calling out the last name. Five of them stepped forward, instinctively gravitating toward one another, still processing the shape of the team they’d just been placed in.

Anxin stood among them, hands clasped loosely in front of him, shoulders straight despite the flutter in his chest. Sangwon was standing so close that Anxin could sense him without looking. Geonwoo shifted at his other side, relaxed as ever, while Leo and Junseo exchanged quick, curious glances.

There was a brief, awkward pause.

Anxin inhaled softly and bowed, a habit ingrained deep. “I’m Anxin,” he said, voice calm, clear. After a beat, he added, gentler, “You can call me Xin.”

Sangwon’s voice cut through, almost absent-mindedly, as if the thought had slipped out before he could stop it. “God?”

The word landed softly, barely louder than a breath. Anxin blinked, confused, turning slightly toward him. Sangwon stood there with his head tilted just a little, silky bangs falling over his eyes, the studio lights catching in them in a way that made his gaze look unfocused, dreamy, distant, like he hadn’t fully come back to himself yet.

Realizing what he’d said, Sangwon stiffened. “I-- I mean,” he cleared his throat, cheeks tinting pink. “Xin… sounds like Shin.”

Geonwoo burst out laughing, Junseo snorted, and even Leo’s lips twitched.

Anxin stared for a second, then laughed too, soft and bright. “I promise I’m not that powerful,” he said, shaking his head.

Sangwon smiled then, small and genuine, eyes finally lifting to meet Anxin’s. But the way he looked at him like he’d almost said something far more honest than he meant to lingered in the air.

Practice dragged on longer than anyone expected. The music restarted again and again, each run-through bleeding into the next until sweat soaked through shirts and the mirrors fogged faintly from heat. Anxin pushed himself hard, counting under his breath, correcting angles, repeating steps until his muscles burned. He didn’t complain, not even when his breathing grew uneven near the end of a sequence.

Sangwon noticed. He noticed when Anxin’s steps started landing half a beat heavier. When his shoulders tensed just before a difficult turn. When he wiped his palms on his pants during water breaks, fingers trembling slightly from exertion. Without making it obvious, Sangwon began adjusting himself around Anxin.

He angled his body just enough to give Anxin more space during formations. When they rotated lines, Sangwon slowed his pace by half a step so Anxin wouldn’t feel rushed catching up. During a brief pause, he nudged a water bottle toward Anxin with his foot, not looking at him when he did it, just letting it roll close enough to be noticed.

“Drink,” he murmured once, so quietly it was almost lost beneath the music. Anxin blinked, surprised, then smiled faintly as he picked it up. “Thanks.” Sangwon nodded, already facing forward again, but his ears burned.

When Anxin slipped slightly during a transition, Sangwon’s hand lifted on instinct, hovering near his elbow, ready to steady him even though he didn’t fall. He let his arm drop just as quickly, pretending to stretch instead, heart thudding wondering if he’d been caught.

By the final run, Anxin’s hair was plastered to his forehead, sweat tracing a slow line down his neck as he pushed through the last count. Sangwon watched him finish the move, chest rising and falling hard, and felt something twist painfully warm in his chest.

He’s tired, Sangwon thought. He’s been tired for a while.

And still Anxin smiled when the music cut, bowing instinctively, thanking the instructor like he hadn’t just given everything he had.

That was when Geonwoo stepped in and lifted him up.

Sangwon’s gaze sharpened immediately. This whole time Sangwon was cautious to not to touch his Anxin, treating him as a delicate porcelain doll and Geonwoo just swooped in and lifted him up with absolutely zero restraints ?????

Sangwon tightened his grip on the towel in his hands, the quiet attentiveness he’d offered all day suddenly feeling unbearably small in comparison. He’d been watching out for Anxin the entire time. And somehow, it still wasn’t enough. Somehow he still is one step behind Kim Geonwoo. As if he was meant to be the forever 2nd, forever behind Geonwoo... ​

Chapter Text

The words on the page refused to stay still.
Sangwon had been staring at the same paragraph for far too long, eyes skimming over sentences without absorbing a single one. His book lay open in his hands, lamp casting a soft pool of light across the desk, but his thoughts had already drifted back to the practice room, back to the way Geonwoo’s arms had slid around Anxin so easily.The image kept replaying, uninvited, in 4k.

Anxin’s surprised laugh. The brief protest. The way Geonwoo hadn’t hesitated for even a second.

"Ahhhhhhh" Sangwon shut the book with a quiet snap and leaned back against the chair, rubbing a hand over his face. He tried lying down on his bed, pulling the blanket up, closing his eyes. It didn’t help. He turned onto his side, then his back, then his other side, sheets twisting around him as restlessness settled deep in his bones.

With a soft exhale of frustration, he sat up.
A walk. He needed air.

He shrugged on his jacket, wound a scarf loosely around his neck, and padded toward the door, careful not to wake anyone. The hallway beyond was dark and still, promising quiet.

He reached for the handle. The door opened.
And there stood the brown haired chinese boy who was the source of all the restlessness and frustration Sangwon had been fighting that night. The one who has been keeping him awake.

He was standing close.One hand was lifted, knuckles poised mid-knock, except Sangwon had opened the door at the exact wrong moment, and Anxin’s hand connected with Sangwon’s forehead.

A soft thunk.

Sangwon blinked, more stunned by the sight of him than the mild impact. Up close, Anxin smelled faintly of soap and clean fabric, hair still slightly damp, eyes bright in the low light.

Anxin gasped softly, panic flashing across his face. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” he blurted out, stepping closer without thinking. One hand came up to cradle the side of Sangwon’s head, fingers warm and careful against his temple, while the other gently brushed aside Sangwon’s soft bangs. The motion was instinctive as if he needed to see the damage with his own eyes.

Lee Sangwon froze.

Anxin leaned in, brows knitting together as he examined the faintly reddened spot on his forehead. “I didn’t mean to...” he murmured, thumb hovering just short of touching the mark, like he was afraid to hurt him again.

“It’s… fine,” Sangwon said, though his voice came out quieter than he intended to. Too quiet for someone whose heart was racing at 118 bpm.

The hallway light caught on Anxin’s long lashes as he tilted his head, still holding him, completely unaware of what that simple gesture was doing to the person infront of him.

“You should tell me if it hurts hyung” Anxin said earnestly, eyes lifting to meet his. Sangwon swallowed.

The jealousy from earlier, the restlessness, the frustration, it all dissolved magically. He shook his head slightly, careful not to move too much under Anxin’s hands. “It really doesn’t, Anxinie" he replied.

Anxin exhaled in relief. His fingers hesitated in Sangwon’s hair, then slowly withdrew.

“What were you… doing here?” Sangwon asked softly.

Anxin hesitated, then tilted his head, curiosity softening the worry still lingering in his eyes.
“Where were you going?” he asked instead, neatly sidestepping Sangwon’s question.
Sangwon blinked, caught off guard. He glanced down at the jacket still half-zipped, the scarf looped loosely around his neck, clear evidence of a plan he hadn’t quite committed to. A small, almost embarrassed laugh slipped out.
“Just… outside,” he said after a moment. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Anxin’s expression shifted instantly, sympathy blooming there. “Me neither,” he admitted, a quiet smile curving his lips. He rocked slightly on his heels, hands tucking into the sleeves of his hoodie. "Wanna take a walk together, hyung?"
​

Chapter Text

The invitation came almost shyly. Sangwon nodded before he could second-guess himself.

The night air was cool when they stepped outside, the dorm lights glowing softly behind them. Anxin led the way across the yard, footsteps unhurried, hands tucked into his sleeves. Sangwon followed him obediently, matching his pace , their shoulders brushing occasionally.

Sangwon was scared that Anxin might be able to hear his heart beating wildly against his ribcage.

“There,” Anxin pointed towards the corner of the yard where sat a small wooden house, a light on inside. A dog shifted, tail thumping lazily against the ground as he stood up to greet them.

Sangwon froze. “Oh,” he said faintly.
Anxin turned, eyes bright and sparkling, “That’s Chunbae. He lives here.” Chunbae trotted a little closer, curious and calm, tongue peeking out as he tilted his head.
Sangwon straightened immediately. “He’s...he’s cute,” he said, voice calm in a way that absolutely did not match the stiffness of his posture. He took one careful step forward.

Then... Chunbae barked. Just once. Friendly and excited.

Sangwon yelped and jumped back half a step, hands flying up instinctively. “Woo... Okay, maybe not that close.”

Anxin giggled, "You’re scared of dogs?”

“I’m not scared,” Sangwon said quickly, then paused, deflated. “…I’m a little scared.”

Anxin’s smile softened instantly. “It’s okay,” he said. “Chunbae’s really gentle. Look!" He crouched slightly, calling Chunbae over. The dog padded up obediently, tail wagging, eyes round.

Anxin reached back without looking, fingers finding Sangwon’s hand and holding it gently. “You’re safe,” he said quietly. “I’m right here.”

Sangwon’s breath hitched. Guided by Anxin’s steady warmth, he let himself be pulled closer. Anxin moved slowly, patiently, their joined hands lowering together. Chunbae sniffed curiously, then leaned into the touch.

“There,” Anxin murmured. “Just like that.”
Sangwon’s fingers brushed Chunbae’s fur. The dog’s tail wagged harder.

“…He’s warm,” Sangwon said, surprised.
Anxin smiled, still holding his hand. “See?”

Under the quiet sky, Sangwon forgot to be embarrassed, forgot to be careful. All he could feel was the steady reassurance in Anxin’s grip.

Anxin watched Sangwon for a second longer, the way he was still half-tense, half-proud of himself, fingers lingering in Chunbae’s fur as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d done it.

A smile crept onto Anxin’s face. “Hyung,” he said softly, teasing warmth in his voice, “you look like a cute baby bunny right now.”

Sangwon’s ears flushed instantly. He straightened, trying and failing to look dignified. “What are you supposed to be, then?” he shot back, eyes glinting with mock seriousness.

Anxin hummed, genuinely thinking about it. He tilted his head, gaze drifting up to the night sky for a second before he answered, very matter-of-factly. “Cat.”

Sangwon blinked. Then his lips curved into a grin, the tension finally melting away. “Then…” he said, laughter slipping out as he looked back at Anxin, “I’m a mouse.”
The sound of his laugh was soft and unguarded, echoing faintly in the quiet yard.

Anxin straightened suddenly, shoulders squaring as if he were about to deliver a very serious declaration. He lifted their still-joined hands a little, eyes widening dramatically.
“Then,” he said, lowering his voice with exaggerated menace, “I will eat you up.”

There was a half-second of silence. Sangwon stared at him, then burst out laughing, the sound bright and helpless. “Yaaaah,” he protested, trying to pull his hand back but not really trying at all. “That’s scary. Cats are scary.”

Anxin grinned, completely pleased with himself, eyes sparkling. “You said you’re a mouse,” he pointed out innocently.
Sangwon shook his head, still laughing, cheeks warm. “I regret my choice.”

Chunbae barked softly, tail wagging and ran towards a tall figure approaching them slowly. ​

Chapter Text

Chunbae suddenly perked up, barked once, ears twitching. Before either of them could react, the dog bolted forward, paws thudding softly against the ground as he ran toward a tall figure approaching from the path. Anxin turned just in time to see who it was.

“Geonwoo hyung...”

Geonwoo crouched instinctively, laughing as Chunbae jumped up, tail wagging furiously. He rubbed the dog’s head once before straightening, his eyes already searching past him locking onto Anxin almost immediately.

He walked straight over, completely ignoring the fact that Sangwon was still there, hand loosely held in Anxin’s.

“I woke up and you weren’t in the room,” Geonwoo spoke, voice low, honest in a way that didn’t feel rehearsed at all. “I thought something happened. I was scared.”

Anxin was caught off guard. “I just went for a walk,” he said softly. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Only then did Geonwoo glance sideways, registering Sangwon’s presence. His gaze flicked down and noticed their joined hands, then back up again. Something unreadable passed over his face before he schooled it into a smile. “Oh,” he said lightly. “I didn’t realize you weren’t alone.”

Sangwon’s fingers loosened instinctively, his hand falling back to his side. He stepped half a pace away, the warmth that had been there moments ago cooling too quickly. Anxin noticed Sangwon's shoulders stiffened as his gaze darted between them. The easy laughter from moments ago faded into nothingness.

“I was showing him Chunbae,” Anxin added, almost as if explaining himself though he didn’t quite know why he felt the need to.
Geonwoo nodded, attention already drifting back to Anxin. “You should’ve told me,” he said gently. “I would’ve come with you.”
Sangwon swallowed, hands slipping into his jacket pockets. From where he stood, it was suddenly very clear how easily he could be overlooked.

Chunbae circled back, tail wagging, oblivious.

Anxin blinked at Geonwoo, genuinely puzzled by the shift in the air he couldn’t quite name.
“Oh,” he said lightly, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I didn’t want to wake you. You looked really tired earlier.”

He smiled up at Geonwoo, completely earnest, completely unaware of how his words landed. “Sangwon-hyung was awake too, so we just went for a short walk.”

As he spoke, he gestured back toward Sangwon, including him in the conversation without a second thought. To Anxin, this was simple: he’d found someone who couldn’t sleep, and they’d kept each other company.

“I’ll come back soon,” Anxin added, nodding reassuringly at Geonwoo. “You can sleep first.”
There was no defensiveness in his tone.

Geonwoo let out a quiet breath, the kind that came with worry more than annoyance. He stepped closer, lifting a hand without asking, fingers carefully tucking a loose strand of Anxin’s hair back into place. His touch was gentle, practiced like he’d done it many times.

“Still,” he said softly, not unkind, “you shouldn’t wander off alone at night. You’re too careless.” His thumb brushed lightly against Anxin’s temple as if checking whether he was cold. “At least tell me next time, okay? I woke up and you were just… gone.”

“Sorry. I really didn’t think you’d worry.” He smiled apologetically, leaning into the touch without realizing it. “I’ll tell you next time.”
Geonwoo nodded, satisfied, hand lingering for a moment before dropping back to his side. “Good.”

Sangwon stood very still.
The sight settled in his chest like a slow, crushing weight. The easy intimacy, the way Anxin responded so naturally, the way Geonwoo touched him as if he belonged there. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, nor something anyone would call inappropriate.

Sangwon’s fingers curled inside his pockets, nails biting into his palms. He looked away for a brief moment, blinking away the tears hard, then forced himself to look back again, because pretending not to see Anxin being intimate with another man hurt just as much.

Anxin laughed softly at something Geonwoo said next, unaware of the quiet fracture happening a few inches away and Sangwon realized, with painful clarity, that this wasn’t mere jealousy. It was the feeling of watching something tender unfold knowing there was no place for him inside it. He was drowning. He was drowning to the rock bottom with no one extending his hand to keep him afloat. He was drowning into utter darkness.

Chapter Text

Sangwon’s world dulled at the edges. His chest felt tight, breath shallow, thoughts spiraling in slow, heavy circles. You don’t belong there.
He stared at the ground, vision unfocused, the darkness in his head closing in bit by bit.
“Sangwon hyung…?”
The voice reached him faintly, like a hand stretching through the fog.
“Li Xiangyuan?”

He blinked once. Then again. The fog cracked.

Anxin was in front of him now, brows drawn together in concern, eyes searching his face like he was afraid Sangwon might disappear if he looked away. “You’re sweating in this cold. Are you okay?”

Sangwon swallowed, forcing air into his lungs, nodding a little too quickly. “Yeah. I’m fine.” The words came out thin, unconvincing, but Anxin didn’t call him out on it.

Geonwoo shifted beside them, gaze sharp as he took in Sangwon’s pale face and distant eyes. “It’s late,” he said, voice firm but calm. “Anxin, you should come back to our room.”

Anxin hesitated.

He glanced at Geonwoo, then back at Sangwon. He seemed to be holding himself together by sheer will.

“I will,” Anxin said slowly, then added, “but… I want to walk Sangwon-hyung back to his room first.”
Geonwoo frowned. “Yah Zhou Anxin!”

“He doesn’t look okay,” Anxin interrupted. He took a small step closer to Sangwon and wrapped his arm around his shoulder, as if anchoring him there. “It won’t take long. I don’t want him to be alone right now.”

Sangwon felt something twist painfully in his chest. He opened his mouth to refuse, to say he was fine, really really fine but Geonwoo was already watching Anxin, jaw tight, conflict flickering across his face. “…Fine,” Geonwoo said at last.

Anxin’s shoulders relaxed instantly. He looked up at Sangwon with a small, relieved smile. “I am here, hyung.”

Geonwoo eventually turned back, his footsteps fading down making the space around them feel quieter and less heavy.

Anxin waited until he was sure they were alone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small packet of tissues. Sangwon barely registered it, still caught between breaths, until Anxin stepped closer and gently pressed the tissue to his forehead. “You’re sweating,” Anxin murmured.

His touch was careful, almost reverent, as he wiped along Sangwon’s hairline, dabbing instead of rubbing, he was afraid of hurting him again. Sangwon flinched instinctively, then stilled when Anxin didn’t pull away.

Anxin noticed everything. He noticed the way Sangwon’s hands trembled at his sides, the way his eyes refused to focus for too long, the way his breathing came in uneven pulls. It wasn’t hard to piece together what was happening.

“Hey,” Anxin said softly, lowering his voice “Look at me, hyung. Just for a second.” Sangwon tried. His gaze wavered before finally settling on Anxin’s face. “That’s it,” Anxin encouraged gently. “You’re doing really well.”

He wiped Sangwon’s forehead again, slower this time, then folded the tissue and held it in his own hand, grounding himself so Sangwon could do the same. “You’re safe,” he said, words steady and warm. Sangwon’s lips parted, a shaky breath escaping him.
“I’m here,” Anxin continued, like a promise he intended to keep.
He stayed close, close enough that Sangwon could feel his presence without being crowded.

Sangwon's arms wrapped around Anxin as if his body had decided before his mind could catch up. Anxin froze for a heartbeat.
When he relaxed, his arm camw up to rest between Sangwon’s shoulders, the other gently patting his back in slow, steady rhythms.

“It’s okay,” Anxin murmured, voice low and soothing. “You can stay like this.”

Sangwon’s grip tightened, his forehead pressing lightly against Anxin’s shoulder. His breath hitched once, then again, like he’d been holding too much in for too long.

Anxin continued rubbing his back, small circles, grounding and warm. “Survival competitions can be really mentally challenging, right…” he said softly, more of a statement than a question. After a pause, he added carefully “Does seeing Geonwoo-hyung give you stress and anxiety?”

Sangwon didn’t pull back by this sudden question. If anything, his arms tightened. He told himself to be bold, just once. To hold onto the kindness standing right in front of him instead of stepping aside. Anxin didn’t protest. He simply stayed like this was the most natural thing in the world.

Sangwon drew in a breath and carefully gathered the mess of emotions clawing at his chest. He needed to sound normal. Convincing.

He finally spoke, “No. It’s not Geonwoo.”
A pause. Then added “I’m just… under a lot of stress because of the show.”

It was a lie. A selfish one.

Anxin hummed in understanding, his hand rubbing Sangwon’s back again, slower now, more deliberate. “Yeah…” he said, earnestly. “That makes sense. Anyone would feel overwhelmed here.”

Sangwon closed his eyes. He wanted Anxin to stay like this. He wanted to be the one Anxin looked after, even if just for tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geonwoo was lying still when Anxin entered the room, the slow, even rise of his chest suggesting he was already asleep.

He stood there for a moment, watching his roommate’s familiar silhouette in the dim light. Guilt tugged at him again, quiet but persistent. Moving carefully, as if afraid even the sound of his breath might disturb him, Anxin walked closer. He bent slightly, lowering his voice to a whisper for the sleeping figure.
“Good night, hyung.”
There was no response.
Anxin straightened, changed quietly, and slipped under the blanket on his own bed. The mattress dipped softly beneath his weight. He turned onto his side, pulling the blanket up, finally closing his eyes to sleep.

Behind him, Geonwoo’s body shifted, now facing towards Anxin.

A devil began raising it's head inside Geonwoo's mind again, a devil that kept whispering unspeakable things to him. The devil in him was making him want to possess Anxin completely. The want was getting more and more difficult to resist. Geonwoo was scared.

Chapter Text

The Whiplash practice room was already loud with music and movement when familiar voices cut through the air. “Anxin! Baobao!!!”
He turned just in time to be pulled into a hug from one side, Jiahao’s arms looping around his shoulders, while Kaiwen appeared on the other, immediately fussing over him.

“Did you eat properly?” Kaiwen asked, poking Anxin’s cheek.
“You look thinner than yesterday,” Jiahao added, frowning in concern.

“I’m fine, really,” Anxin laughed, the sound light as he tried and failed to wriggle free. Jiahao ruffled his hair, undoing all the careful styling, while Kaiwen handed him a packet of milk like it was the most important mission of the day.
“Drink,” Kaiwen insisted. “No excuses.”
Anxin obediently took a few sips, cheeks puffed, earning satisfied nods from both of them. To anyone watching, it looked less like a friendly visit and more like parents checking on their child.

Across the room, Geonwoo who had stopped practicing to watch Jiahao and Kaiwen babying Anxin, had finally stepped forward to make acquaintance with them.

Sangwon’s focus slipped the moment he heard mandarin rolling off Geonwoo’s tongue like it belonged there.

It shouldn’t have mattered. It was just a language. Just a skill. But in Sangwon’s head, it turned into something heavier. He found himself counting without meaning to.

He can talk to Anxin without translating.
He can make him laugh in his own language.
He can understand things I can't.
The list kept growing, cruel and relentless. Height. Confidence. Presence.

By the time Sangwon stepped into the evaluation room, his chest felt tight, his thoughts tangled beyond repair.

The music started. He missed the first count.
His foot landed half a beat late. His turn was sloppy, his lines uneven. He caught his reflection in the mirror, eyes unfocused, expression blank and it only made it worse. Every mistake piled onto the last, until the performance felt like it was slipping out of his hands entirely.

When it ended, the silence was loud.
One of the mentors frowned. Another scribbled something down. “If yoy perform like that you should give your center position to someone else,” dance master said, voice neutral but disappointed.

Sangwon bowed deeply, too deeply, heart sinking.

The practice ended quite late. Sangwon finsihed showering first and went back to his room, mind full of self-doubt.

“Knock, knock, knock.”

The sound pulled Sangwon out of the fog he’d been sitting in for an eternity.
He stared at the door for a second before reluctantly standing up. When he opened it, Anxin was there, smiling warmly with both his dimple and snaggletooth showing, arms full, a messy pile of snack packets stacked against his chest like contraband.

“Hi,” Anxin said softly.
Before Sangwon could ask anything, Anxin slipped past him and crossed the room. Carefully, he piled the snacks onto Sangwon’s otherwise perfectly neat desk. Chips, candies, biscuits.

Then Anxin turned around. He didn’t say a word. He just stepped forward and hugged Sangwon.

It was warm, full, grounding like Anxin had sensed Sangwon needed this and that was reason enough. Sangwon instantly melted into it, his forehead dropping lightly against Anxin’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Sangwon whispered.

He loosened his hold just enough to pull back, though his hands still rested at Anxin’s sides, he kept his gaze lowered, shoulders drawn in.
“I messed up today,” he admitted. “In front of the mentors. I couldn’t focus.” His fingers curled into Anxin’s shirt unconsciously. “I keep thinking… what if I’m a bad center? What if I’m dragging the whole team down, dragging you down with me?”

His voice wavered despite his effort to stay composed.
“I’m supposed to be reliable,” Sangwon went on, his eyes dropping to Anxin's collar bone. “But all I feel lately is doubt. I see everyone else improving, and I start counting what I lack. And then I freeze.”

Anxin listened, heart aching. He shifted closer, gently drawing Sangwon in until Sangwon’s forehead rested against him again. One of Anxin’s hands slid to Sangwon’s back, the other settling at his waist.

“Hyung,” Anxin said softly, looking down at him, “you don’t drag me down.”

“You’re my center,” Anxin continued, voice calm and certain. “When you stand in front, I know where to go. I don’t feel lost. You know I am probably the worst in dancing in our team. Apart from Hao Ge, you are the only one who was patient enough to teach me on how to improve my dancing in this show.” He rested his cheek lightly against Sangwon’s, “Even when you doubt yourself, I still trust you and besides if anyone would drag down the team dance wise, it's probably me. I am only a little bit good at singing and rapping.”

“So don’t carry this alone,” Anxin murmured. “Lean on me. I might not be as mature as Leo Hyung, but i am not a child.”

Before Sangwon could say anything more, before his doubt could creep back in, Anxin leaned down slightly and pressed a quick, soft peck to Sangwon’s cheek. It was instinctive, unthinking, the kind of affection he gave when his heart felt full.

Sangwon froze. Completely. Fireworks going around in his mind.

The tips of his ears turned red first, then his cheeks, then all the way down his neck. His beautiful round eyes widened even more as if the world had skipped a frame.

Somehow, in his panic, his body betrayed him. He leaned forward, clumsy and flustered, and ended up planting a kiss right on Anxin’s dimple in return.

The room went silent.

Sangwon realized what he’d done a second later and let out a strangled noise, hands flying up to cover his face.

Anxin was smiling. A bright, fond, devastating smile.
Sangwon peeked through his fingers, face burning, heart racing, while Anxin laughed softly and hugged him again. “nǐ wèi shén me zhè me kě ài, gē ge??”

Sangwon bit his lips and whispered, finally voicing out the reason which sent him spiraling into a whirlpool of self-doubt all these time, “Can you teach me mandarin, Anxinie?”
​

Chapter Text

That night, when Anxin finally slipped back into his room, the lights were on.
Geonwoo had already showered, hair still slightly damp, sleeves rolled up, towel tossed carelessly over the chair. He looked up the moment the door clicked shut.
Anxin slowed down. For some reason, the air felt heavier than usual.
Geonwoo’s gaze was sharp enough to make Anxin hesitate, lingering on him. Anxin shifted his weight, fingers tightening around the hem of his hoodie.
“I--” he started, then stopped, lips pressing together briefly before he tried again. “I was in Sangwon-hyung’s room.”

Geonwoo didn’t respond right away.
Anxin rushed on, instinctively filling the silence. “He asked me to teach him Chinese,” he added, voice earnest. “Just some basics.”

Geonwoo moved before Anxin could take another step. One moment there was space between them, the next moment there wasn’t any. Geonwoo approached deliberately, his height casting a shadow that made Anxin instinctively step back until his back brushed the door. Geonwoo’s arms came up, one on either side of him, palms resting against the wood, not touching him, but close enough that Anxin felt unmistakably caged.

Anxin swallowed. His heart thudded a little too loud in his ears. He tipped his chin up, eyes wide, unsure whether he’d done something wrong or if he was imagining the tension tightening the air.

“Hyung…?” Anxin said softly, nervousness creeping into his voice despite himself.
Geonwoo looked down at him, expression controlled but taut around the edges. His jaw clenched once, like he was holding back words he wasn’t sure he should say.

“You disappear late at night,” Geonwoo said quietly. “You come back smelling like snacks and someone else’s room. And you think I won’t notice?”

Anxin’s fingers curled at his sides. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said. “Sangwon hyung just needed help.”

Geonwoo’s gaze flicked to Anxin’s eyes, then to his lips, then back up again, as if grounding himself. He exhaled slowly, arms still braced around Anxin.

“I’m not angry,” Geonwoo said at last. He leaned in just enough for Anxin to feel the warmth of him. “I worry too.”

With this, Geonwoo pushed himself back, stepping away as if nothing had happened.
Anxin remained by the door, heart racing, only then realizing how tightly he’d been holding his breath.

Anxin didn’t know when the feeling started.

It wasn’t fear. And it wasn’t anger either.

Geonwoo wasn’t cruel. He didn’t shout, didn’t grab, didn’t cross lines that were obvious enough to name. But the way he looked at Anxin lately made his shoulders tense without meaning to. His presence suddenly felt like something Anxin had to navigate instead of something he can relax into. It made Anxin uneasy.

He sat on his bed later that night, replaying the moment in his head, fingers twisting into the blanket.

Maybe I’m overthinking, he told himself.

Geonwoo had always been protective. Maybe this was just that.

But it didn’t feel like protection. It felt like being watched. Like his choices were being quietly weighed, measured, approved or maybe not approved. Like he needed a reason to explain himself always.

And Anxin didn’t like that feeling.

He liked warmth. Ease. Laughter. He liked being held without expectation, cared for without conditions; be it romantic or platonic relationship.

With Geonwoo, he felt… smaller.

Not because Geonwoo tried to hurt him, but because something in the way he stood, the way he spoke, made Anxin feel as if he was being gently but firmly guided into a shape that wasn’t his own...

That realization scared him more than anger ever could. Anxin exhaled slowly, hugging his knees to his chest.

I don’t want to be controlled, he thought, the idea forming clearly for the first time.

He wanted to run away.

The feeling wouldn’t go away. It sat heavy in Anxin’s chest, tightening every time he heard Geonwoo shift, every time the room creaked in the quiet. His heart kept telling him something was wrong insistently. Like a whisper that refused to be silenced.

I need to leave.

The thought startled him with its clarity.
Anxin stayed still, breathing slow, careful. He watched Geonwoo from the corner of his eye, counting the seconds between breaths, the room settling into the deep stillness of sleep.

Anxin moved. He slipped off the bed soundlessly, shoes already in his hands. His fingers trembled as he eased the door open, the click impossibly loud in his ears. When Geonwoo didn't wake up, he exhaled shakily and stepped into the hallway.

And then he ran. Barely looking around, just following instinct, his feet carrying him where he knew he’d feel safe. His chest burned, eyes stinging as he stopped in front of Jiahao’s door.

He raised his hand.Then knocked desperately with tearful eyes.

When the door opened, Anxin instantly jumped to hug the man standing infront of him and sobbed miserably “Hao ge, I am scared.” burying his face into his neck seeking safety.

The body stiffened. Very clearly. Anxin felt it before he saw it. The unfamiliar build. The wrong scent. The hesitation instead of immediate comfort.

Anxin pulled back. He looked up.

Yoo Kangmin stared down at him, eyes wide, frozen mid-movement, one hand still on the doorframe like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh, panic, or apologize.

“…Oh,” Kangmin said finally.

Anxin’s soul left his body. “I-- I’M SORRY--!” Anxin squeaked, bowing so fast he nearly folded in half. “I thought.. I mean I was looking for Jiahao ge.”

Kangmin glanced back into the dark room over his shoulder. Jiahao was sprawled across his bed, fast asleep, mouth slightly open, utterly unaware of the chaos happening two meters away.

Kangmin looked back at Anxin, taking in his pale face, shaking hands, the way his shoulders were drawn tight like he’d been running from something.

“…You okay?” Kangmin asked, voice softer now.
Anxin nodded too quickly. “Y-Yes. I just... sorry. I’ll go.”
He turned to leave, mortified. But Kangmin gently caught his sleeve.
“Hey,” he said, carefully; “You can come in.”

Chapter Text

Kangmin let him in quietly, closing the door with careful hands.

The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the hallway light slipping through the curtains. Anxin’s eyes immediately found Jiahao sprawled diagonally across his bed, one arm flung over the pillow, hair a mess, breathing deep and even.

Anxin smiled despite himself.

Even if Jiahao had been sleeping neatly with blanket tucked and posture perfect, Anxin wouldn’t have dared to lay on his bed. He knew better. Hao-ge’s bed was sacred territory and anyone who dares to touch it would disappear from the face of earth.

Anxin turned back to Kangmin, voice dropping to a whisper. “Can I stay here tonight?” He hesitated, then added quickly, “I can sleep on the floor. It’s okay, really. I’ll just borrow a blanket.”

“No,” Kangmin said gently.
Anxin blinked. “No?”
Kangmin shook his head, already reaching for the extra pillow. “You’ll freeze on the floor. Come on.” He gestured to his own bed, moving aside to make space. “You can sleep here.”
Anxin froze. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”
Kangmin smiled, soft and reassuring. “You’re not. It’s just sleeping.”
Something in Anxin’s chest loosened at that.
“…Thank you,” he whispered.
They settled carefully, keeping their movements quiet so Jiahao wouldn’t wake. Kangmin switched off the light, leaving the room wrapped in darkness and calm.
As Anxin lay down, the tension in his body finally began to ebb. The anxiety didn’t vanish completely but it dulled, softened by the simple kindness of being allowed to stay.

Kangmin lay on his side, facing Anxin, careful to keep a respectful distance. Anxin was curled up small, like he was trying to take as little space in the world as possible. His shoulders were still tense, breath shallow, eyes staring at nothing in particular.

Kangmin noticed but didn’t say anything. Words could wait. Instead, he slowly lifted his hand and let it rest lightly on Anxin’s head, fingers threading through soft strands of hair. His touch was gentle, asking permission without words. When Anxin didn’t pull away, Kangmin began to pat his head in slow, steady rhythms.

Anxin’s body reacted before his mind did. His eyes fluttered, lashes trembling as exhaustion finally caught up.

Kangmin smiled faintly in the dark.
“Cute,” he murmured.

Anxin’s fingers curled into the fabric of Kangmin’s sleeve, a tiny, unconscious motion, like a child reaching for reassurance in sleep. Kangmin froze, cuteness aggression screaming in his head. He’s too adorable, this should be illegal !!!!

His face, now peaceful, held none of the fear from earlier. Kangmin stayed awake a little longer, watching him breathe.
Only when he was sure Anxin was deep asleep did Kangmin finally close his eyes.

Jiahao opened his eyes, turned his head and froze.

Anxin????? On Kangmin’s bed????? No... ON KANGMIN?????!!!!!

An arm wrapped around Kangmin’s torso, a leg hooked securely over his thigh, Anxin’s face tucked into the space between Kangmin’s shoulder and chest.

Jiahao sat up slowly, eyes narrowing. His gaze lifted. Locked onto Kangmin.

If looks could kill, Kangmin would’ve been buried six feet under 1000 times over.

Kangmin stirred under Anxin’s weight, blinking awake and the moment he noticed Jiahao staring, he stiffened. “Hyung!” he started, quietly trying to sit up.

Big mistake. Anxin whined in his sleep, arms tightening immediately. He nuzzled closer, forehead pressing against Kangmin’s neck, one leg sliding higher as if anchoring himself.
“Mmm… Sangwon hyung” Anxin murmured, voice soft and sleepy.

Kangmin froze again.

Jiahao’s glare sharpened. “…Why,” Jiahao said slowly, dangerously calm, “is my little brother attached to you like this.”
Kangmin swallowed. “He- he couldn’t sleep last night and came to find you. He looked scared. I just let him stay-”

Jiahao took one step closer. Anxin shifted again, cheek brushing Kangmin’s collarbone. Kangmin didn’t dare move now, hands hovering awkwardly in the air, unsure where to put them without making things worse.

“I didn’t touch him,” Kangmin added quickly. “I swear. I just… patted his head until he fell asleep.”

Jiahao looked down at Anxin, his brows were relaxing. There was a faint pout on Anxin's lips.
Jiahao exhaled through his nose and said, “You should’ve woken me up.”
Kangmin nodded immediately. “ you were tired and asleep.”

Jiahao reached out, gently brushing Anxin’s hair back from his eyes. Anxin sighed, curling even closer without waking.
Jiahao straightened, eyes snapping back to Kangmin. “Don’t move,” he warned quietly. “If he wakes up scared because you tried to leave, I will hold you responsible.”
Kangmin didn’t even blink. “Yes, hyung.”

Jiahao sat back on his own bed, thinking what on earth scared Anxin so much that he came to his room so late. While Jiahao's brain was running thousands of simulations, Kangmin stayed trapped beneath the most innocent hostage taker in the world.

Chapter Text

Anxin woke up to shaking.
“Xin. Baobao wake up. Now.”
He groaned and rolled over, burying his face into the pillow. “Five more minutes…”
“No,” Jiahao said flatly. “You’re already late.”
That word did it.
Anxin shot up so fast he nearly headbutted Jiahao. The room spun. Sunlight cut through the curtains far too brightly, and only then did he notice that Jiahao was already dressed. Hair still slightly damp. Kangmin stood behind him, fresh and alert, holding Anxin’s hoodie in his hands.
They had both showered.They were waiting for him.
“Oh my god!!!!” Anxin scrambled out of bed, hair sticking up everywhere. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”
“We tried,” Kangmin said, amused. “You slapped my hand.”
“I did not sl-”
“You absolutely did.”
Anxin groaned again and dragged both of them out into the hallway. “Come. My room.”
They followed him back, Jiahao walking a little faster now, scanning the place out of habit. When Anxin pushed his door open, the room was empty. Geonwoo wasn’t there.
No shoes by the door. No jacket thrown over the chair. The other bed untouched.

He grabbed his toothbrush, a fresh set of clothes, and turned back toward the door. “I’ll be quick. Don’t touch anything.”
Jiahao raised an eyebrow. “You say that every time.”
Anxin was already halfway down the hall.

The shower room was quiet, steam still lingering from earlier use. As water hit his skin, his thoughts finally slowed. Last night felt blurry. Heavy. Like something he’d almost tripped over but hadn’t named yet.

He dressed quickly, towel-drying his hair as he headed back.
By the time he returned, Jiahao and Kangmin were waiting just outside his room.
“Ready?” Kangmin asked.
Anxin nodded. “Yeah.”
They walked together toward the cafeteria, three bodies in sync. Anxin stayed between them without thinking, shoulders brushing theirs.

He didn’t notice the looks right away. But Jiahao did. And Kangmin felt it too. Eyes lingered. Whispers followed. Some sort of gossips was floating around and even Anxin could sense it in the air that the main character was definitely him.

He glanced up, confused. “Why is everyone staring?”
Jiahao rested a hand lightly on his back. Protective. Quiet.
“Let's eat first” he said.

The cafeteria line crept forward inch by inch.
Anxin stood between Jiahao and Kangmin, absently rocking on his heels, eyes fixed on the trays ahead. He was mid-sentence, something about wanting two milk cartons, when the air behind them shifted fast & violent.

Geonwoo’s arm swung forward. It was meant for Kangmin. Anxin only realized what was happening when he stepped half a pace forward without thinking, the punch landed on Anxin’s face.

The sound wasn’t loud. Anxin stumbled back, tray slipping from his hands as pain exploded across his cheekbone, white-hot and disorienting. His vision blurred, ears ringing, knees buckling as Jiahao caught him just in time.

The entire cafeteria went dead silent.

A fork clattered somewhere in the distance. It sounded obscene in the stillness.
“Anxin!” Jiahao’s voice cracked as he pulled him close, hands immediately cupping Anxin’s face. “Xin, look at me”
Anxin blinked, dazed, fingers instinctively gripping Jiahao’s sleeve. His cheek was already burning, skin throbbing where Geonwoo’s fist had connected.
Kangmin froze where he stood, shock draining the color from his face. “What the hell?!”

Geonwoo stood there too. Frozen. His fist still clenched in the air.

“Anxin” Geonwoo breathed. Jiahao’s glare snapped up, lethal. “Don’t say his name.”
He turned his body fully, shielding Anxin as if by instinct, one arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders. Kangmin stepped closer too, hands trembling, guilt and fury mixing in his eyes.

Around them, trainees stared openly now. Some with horror. Some with disbelief. Some already whispering.

Anxin finally found his voice. It came out small. Shaky. “…hyung?”

Geonwoo took a step forward.

“Don’t,” Jiahao said coldly to him. “You’ve done enough.”

Anxin swallowed, pain blooming with every movement. He lifted his hand to his cheek, fingers coming away trembling.

Geonwoo’s face had gone pale.

“I didn’t mean to” His voice broke. “I wasn’t aiming for ...”

Anxin looked at him then. Really looked.
And whatever Geonwoo saw in Anxin’s eyes be it hurt, fear; made him stop mid-step.

“I just wanted breakfast,” Anxin said softly.

Jiahao tightened his arm around Anxin’s shoulders and turned him away from the cafeteria, shielding him from the stares, from Geonwoo, from everything. Kangmin hovered close on Anxin’s other side, hands unsure, like he wanted to help but didn’t know where to touch without hurting him more.

“Doctor’s room,” Jiahao said, voice steady in a way that didn’t match his eyes.

Anxin nodded faintly. The world still felt tilted, sound muffled like he was underwater. Each step sent a dull ache through his cheek, his head throbbing in slow, heavy waves.
“I’m okay,” he murmured, more out of habit than truth.
Jiahao didn’t respond. He just adjusted his grip, one hand braced at Anxin’s back, the other anchoring his arm. It was the way he’d held him ever since Anxin was younger, smaller, clumsier. Muscle memory.

Staff members glanced up as they passed, expressions shifting when they saw Anxin’s face. Someone whispered his name. Someone else reached for a radio.

Kangmin finally spoke, voice tight. “Xin, does it hurt a lot?”
Anxin tried to smile. It came out crooked. “I’ve had worse,” he said, then paused. “…I think.”
That did it.

Jiahao’s jaw clenched. “Don’t joke.”
They reached the doctor’s room. Jiahao knocked once impatiently and then pushed the door open without waiting. He guided Anxin onto the bed carefully, like he was made of glass, hands lingering just a second longer to make sure he was steady.
The medic rushed over, already pulling on gloves. “What happened?”
“Punch to the face,” Jiahao said flatly. “Accidental or not.”
Anxin’s eyes fluttered shut as a cold compress was pressed gently against his cheek. He hissed softly, then relaxed when Jiahao’s hand found his wrist, thumb brushing slow, grounding circles.

Jiahao murmured, low enough that only Anxin could hear. “I’m here.”
Anxin opened his eyes and looked at him.
The fear finally caught up.
He whispered, voice breaking, “Hao ge…”
Jiahao leaned closer instantly. “I know. I’ve got you.”

Sangwon lingered down the corridor, pretending to check his phone, pretending his heart wasn’t beating too loud in his ears. Through the half-open door he watched Jiahao fuss, watched Kangmin hover, watched Anxin insist that they should go to practice.

“I’m really okay, ge” Anxin said, small smile in place, eyes tired. “Go. I’ll rest.”

Only when Jiahao finally nodded, only when footsteps faded and the hallway emptied, did Sangwon move.

He slipped into the room like a secret.
Anxin was lying back, eyes half-closed. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and something warm. Anxin, probably. Sangwon stood there for a moment, unsure where to put his hands, his words, his worry.

He sat down on the bed careful not to wake Anxin up but his hand reached out.

His fingers hovered before gently brushing Anxin’s cheek, just beside the swelling.

Anxin’s eyes fluttered open.
“Sangwon… hyung?”
The relief in his voice was immediate.

Sangwon swallowed. “Does it hurt?” he asked softly.

Anxin tilted his head into the touch without thinking, lashes lowering. “Less now.” That small movement undid him.
Sangwon’s thumb traced the air, not quite touching the bruise, like he could smooth the pain away if he was careful enough. His voice came out quieter than he meant. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.”

Anxin frowned faintly. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because I should’ve been,” Sangwon said.

Anxin studied his face, the worry Sangwon tried so hard to hide, the tenderness he never quite managed to mask. He smiled.

“I’m glad you’re here now.” Anxin said, holding gently onto Sangwon's other hand, their thumbs rubbing.

Chapter Text

The doctor’s room was quiet again.

Anxin shifted on the narrow hospital bed, swinging his legs slightly, watching Sangwon hover like he wasn’t sure where he was allowed to exist. Sangwon had one foot angled toward the door, jacket still on, hands folded too neatly in his lap.

Anxin tilted his head. Studied him.
“Hyung,” he said suddenly.
Sangwon looked up at once. “Hm?”
“Come here.”
Sangwon hesitated. “I’m fine here.”

Anxin patted the bed beside him. Once. Twice. Very deliberately.

“There’s space. Lay down with me.”
Sangwon’s ears flushed. “This is a public space. Hospital bed at that.”

“I know,” Anxin said seriously. “That’s why it’s for resting.”
“That’s -”
Anxin added, softer, “I don’t like being alone right now.” That did it.

Sangwon stood up almost immediately, movements careful as he slipped off his jacket and sat on the edge of the bed. He lay down stiffly, hands folded on his stomach like he was afraid to take up too much room.

Anxin turned onto his side to face him, cheek still faintly pink even though there was a nasty bruise on it, eyes bright.

“You’re very tense,” Anxin observed.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” Anxin shuffled closer anyway, until their hands touched. “See?”
Sangwon relaxed a bit.

Anxin smiled, pleased at himself. “Okay. Wanna take Chinese lesson?”
“…Right now?”
“Yes.” Anxin lifted a finger like a teacher. “Repeat after me.”

Sangwon nodded obediently.
Anxin said slowly, gently, “我在这里。”
Sangwon frowned in concentration. “Wo… zai… zheli?”
Anxin beamed. “Good! It means I’m here.”
Sangwon glanced at him. “That’s a nice sentence.”
Anxin’s voice softened. “I know.”
He continued, quieter now. “Next one. 我在这里陪你。”
Sangwon repeated it carefully, syllable by syllable.
“And that means?” he asked.
“I’m here with you,” Anxin said.
Their eyes met.
Sangwon’s chest felt warm in a way that startled him.
Anxin shifted closer again, their knees brushing under the blanket. “One more. This one is important.”
He spoke slowly, like he wanted Sangwon to keep the words forever.
“别怕。”
Sangwon echoed it. “Bie… pa.”
“Don’t be scared,” Anxin translated softly.
Sangwon swallowed. “You’re good at teaching.”
Anxin smiled and, without thinking, rested his forehead lightly against Sangwon’s shoulder. “You’re good at listening.” Anxin hooked one leg over Sangwon’s like it was the most natural thing in the world. Sangwon froze.

Anxin smiled innocently. “You’re warm.”

Anxin leaned in closer, lowering his voice dramatically. “Say: 你在我身边。”
Sangwon repeated it slowly, carefully. “Ni… zai… wo… shenbian?”
Anxin clapped softly. “Perfect!”
“What does it mean?” Sangwon asked.
Anxin grinned, then gently poked Sangwon’s chest. “You are by my side.”
Sangwon’s brain stalled.
“Oh.”
Anxin watched his reaction with obvious delight, then suddenly rested his chin on Sangwon’s shoulder, cheek squishing against fabric. “Say it again.”
Sangwon’s ears went pink. “…Ni zai wo shenbian.”
Anxin hummed happily. “Good, little bunny.”
“Why am I a bunny?!” Sangwon muttered.
“Because,” Anxin said matter-of-factly, “you look like one when you blush.”

As if to prove his point, Anxin reached up and gently brushed Sangwon’s bangs aside, fingers lingering just a little too long on his forehead.
Sangwon swallowed. “Anxinie…”
“Yes?”
“You’re very close.”
Anxin blinked, then smiled slowly. “Is that bad?”
“No,” Sangwon said too quickly. “…I mean... no.”

Anxin brightened and immediately cuddled closer, fully committing now, arms wrapping around Sangwon’s waist, face tucked against his chest. He sighed, content, like a cat finding the perfect nap spot.
Sangwon stared at the ceiling, heart doing unsafe things.

“Hyung,” Anxin mumbled sleepily, words slightly muffled, “teach you one more?”
“Okay,” Sangwon whispered.

“遇见你，我很幸运. ”

Sangwon repeated it without thinking. “Yùjiàn nǐ, wǒ hěn xìngyùn.”

Then he lifted his head slowly, eyes wide and shining. “Do you know what it means?”
Sangwon blinked. “What?”
Anxin smiled so brightly it hurt. “Meeting you, I am very lucky.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geonwoo told himself it was concern.
That was the word he used first. Concern sounded reasonable. Responsible. Senior-like. It fit neatly into the role he had always played. The dependable hyung, the one who watched out for the younger ones, who noticed things others missed.

Anxin was easy to notice.

Geonwoo noticed when Anxin skipped breakfast. When he laughed louder with certain people. When his shoulders drooped after practice, when his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He noticed how Anxin called him hyung, like it meant safety.

But concern didn’t explain why his chest tightened when Anxin wasn’t in the room.
Didn’t explain why he memorized Anxin’s schedule without trying. Why his eyes searched instinctively for dark hair and bright expressions the moment he entered any space. Why relief washed over him when he confirmed he’s here.

Geonwoo stood outside the practice room one evening, leaning against the wall, pretending to stretch. Inside, Anxin was laughing at something Junseo said. The sound carried through the door and Geonwoo didn’t like it.

The realization hit him slowly, unpleasant and undeniable.

He didn’t like Anxin laughing with someone who wasn't him. Didn’t like people who are not him standing close to him. Didn’t like that Anxin socialised so easily to everyone.

That wasn’t concern. That was possession.
And that word tasted bitter.

Geonwoo clenched his jaw and pushed it away. He was tired. Stressed. The show did things to people. Heightened emotions. Territorial instincts.

It would pass. He had said to himself. But it didn’t.
It got worse.

He started noticing things that shouldn’t have mattered. The faint scent Anxin carried when he returned to the room, unfamiliar sometimes. The way Anxin avoided his gaze after certain nights. The way he smiled the same way at others that he used to reserve for him.
Geonwoo found himself watching Anxin sleep one night, long after he should’ve been resting.
Anxin lay curled on his side, hair messy, lashes casting soft shadows on his cheeks. Peaceful. Unaware.

Geonwoo felt his inner demon rising his hood in his chest that night.

I want to chain you away from the world, only for me to see, only for me to have.. He thought. And the thought scared him.

The morning it finally broke when his body moved faster than his thoughts, when anger surged hot and blind, he didn’t even realize what he was doing until the impact echoed.
The silence afterward was unbearable.

Anxin’s face burned into Geonwoo’s memory with cruel clarity.

Disappointment.

He saw disappointment in Anxin's face.

Later, alone, Geonwoo sat with his head in his hands, breath uneven.

What did I just do?

The answer came uninvited.
You crossed a line.
Because you were afraid.
Because you want him.

The realization made his stomach twist.
This wasn’t love. Love was patient. Love waited. Love didn’t swing fists or bare teeth.

What he felt was sharp. Hungry. Afraid of loss before it had even happened.
Obsession.
Geonwoo exhaled slowly, painfully. His eyes turning redder by every passing second.

Anxin didn’t belong to him and Anxin would never choose someone who tried to cage him.
That knowledge hurt more than any punishment ever could.

And still Geonwoo wasn’t sure he knew how to let go.

Chapter Text

It was finally Whiplash performance day.

The backstage buzzed with nervous energy, metal chains clinking softly, leather creasing as members stretched, stylists doing last-minute checks.

Everyone was dressed in black, sharp and dangerous, like they’d stepped out of the same fever dream.

Anxin saw Sangwon and his breath hitched. Fully. Like his lungs forgot their job.

Sangwon stood a little apart, rolling his shoulders as if loosening up, completely unaware of the damage he was doing. The black bodycon crop top hugged him unfairly clinging to his frame, revealing just enough skin to feel illegal. Leather pants sat low on his hips, silver chains glinting under the lights. His black hair was middle-parted, falling softly around a face that looked all sharp lines and quiet intensity.

Center Sangwon. Deadly Sangwon.
Anxin’s brain promptly short-circuited.

He swallowed, hard, eyes lingering before he could stop himself. Why is he allowed to look like that? No, more importantly, why does he look like that today of all days?

Sangwon turned. Their eyes met. Anxin forgot how to blink.

Sangwon’s gaze flickered, just for a second, down Anxin’s large veiny hands, then back up, as if checking something. His lips curved into the faintest smile.

Anxin felt heat rush straight to his ears.
Sangwon took a few steps closer, stopping just within Anxin’s personal space. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
Anxin nodded too fast. “Y-Yeah. Totally.”

Sangwon tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. “Your face is red.”
“That’s… stage lights,” Anxin blurted.
Sangwon let out a soft laugh, barely audible over the noise around them. “We’re not on stage yet.”
“Oh.”

Silence stretched between them, charged and fragile. Then Sangwon leaned in slightly, voice low. “Don’t look at me like that during the performance.”
Anxin blinked. “Like what?”
“Like you’re about to blank out,” Sangwon said, eyes clearly amused.

Anxin’s heart did a full backflip.

Sangwon hesitated, then gently tugged at the hem of his own crop top, suddenly shy. “Does it look weird?”
Anxin shook his head immediately. “No. You look-”
He stopped himself just in time, swallowing the rest of the sentence.
Sangwon watched him, eyes softening. “What?”
Anxin looked away, embarrassed. “…Handsome.”

Sangwon smiled wider this time.
From the stage manager’s call echoing down the hall“Whiplash team, standby!” The moment cracked open, reality rushing back in.
Sangwon stepped back, offering Anxin his hand. “Let’s do well.”
Anxin squeezed it gently and looked away before someone noticed his ears turning red.

Geonwoo stood at the far end of the room, jaw clenched.
He had already been formally reprimanded by the production team that morning.
The cafeteria incident had escalated fast; staff intervention, CCTV footage, written warnings.

He was removed from K Planet center position, forced to stand through a lecture about violence, image, and control.

“One more incident and you’re out,” the producer had said flatly.

Now, watching Anxin laugh softly at something Sangwon whispered, Geonwoo felt it again, that sick twist in his chest.

Meanwhile Junseo adjusted his fingerless gloves, eyes sharp but calm.

He was the silent stabilizer of Whiplash, the one who noticed everything and said nothing. He had seen Geonwoo spiral for weeks, had clocked Sangwon’s quiet protectiveness, had noticed how Anxin unconsciously leaned toward warmth instead of fire.

This stage could make or break them.
So he decided no matter what personal chaos brewed backstage, Whiplash would be flawless.

Leo bounced lightly on his heels, trying to bleed off nervous energy.

This was his first major performance in this show, and the tension scared him more than the cameras. He had heard whispers, felt the cold stares, noticed how staff watched Geonwoo closely now.

But when Leo looked at Anxin's cheek bruised, but still smiling, still showing up; something settled in his chest. If he can stand there after everything, I can do this.

Leo promised himself he’d perform like his life depended on it. No mistakes. No fear.

When the intro beat dropped, the chaos vanished.
They moved as one; sharp, lethal, magnetic.
Leather creaked. Chains swung. Anxin’s voice cut through the music like silk wrapped around steel.

Sangwon’s gaze burned through the camera, confident, controlled, seductive.

The crowd went feral.

Jiahao hadn’t meant to watch Junseo. He really hadn’t.

But the moment the lights snapped on and Junseo stepped forward, something in Jiahao’s brain short-circuited.
Junseo’s outfit was deceptively simple. Sleeveless black top, red leather straps crossing his shoulders, but it left his arms completely bare. Under the harsh stage lighting, his biceps flexed with every sharp move, veins faint but visible, muscles tightening and releasing in perfect rhythm.
Jiahao forgot to breathe.

Junseo danced like there's no tomorrow. Every hit precise, every turn clean. When he lifted his arm during the chorus, muscles pulling taut, Jiahao’s throat went dry.

Since when was there… such a manly yet pretty man in this show?

Heat crept up Jiahao’s neck, his focus completely wrecked.

By the end of the stage, Jiahao was flushed, painfully aware of one thing: He was done for.

He wanted to feel that strong arm around him SO BAD. It was turning him INSANE.

Chapter Text

The boys finally got a week of break after the highly stressful first mission. The only schedule they had that week was "Whiplash" team attending Studio Choom for ranking first in the first mission.

Studio Choom.

The name alone carried a different kind of pressure; clean lines, sharp cameras, performances that lived forever online. But even that felt distant, dulled by exhaustion.
Especially for Anxin.

The day after the first mission shoot ended, Anxin didn’t wake up for breakfast. Or lunch.

He barely stirred when Kangmin, his new roommate, called him. He mumbled something incoherent, and rolled over, half-buried in blankets. His body finally gave in to what adrenaline had been holding back for weeks. Sleep took him completely.

It was the kind of sleep that felt heavy, almost medicinal, like his bones themselves were resting.

Kangmin didn't try to wake him up anymore, instead he carefully tucked him inside his blankets and left.

Sangwon passed by the room once. Then twice. But he didn’t go in.

He stood there for a moment the second time, hand hovering near the doorframe and then gathered enough courage to peek inside the room . Something in his chest loosened when he realized Anxin was sleeping deeply, his chest rising and falling in quiet rhythm.

By evening, Anxin woke looking fully recharged, eyes unfocused due to a solid sleep, hair sticking up in soft defiance. He shuffled to Kangmin's bed, accepted a cup of warm water from Jiahao without protest, leaned against the wall.

“You alive?” Jiahao asked gently.
Anxin nodded. “Very much.”

Apparently Kangmin got worried about Anxin sleeping so much and called Jiahao in to check on Anxin.

Dinner was the first meal he had that day. He ate more than usual, surprising even himself.
The table was crowded with food.
steamed white rice, soybean paste stew with tofu and zucchini,
stir-fried pork with gochujang, crispy seaweed sheets stacked on the side,
kimchi and a plate of rolled omelette sliced neatly, faintly sweet.

Anxin ate quietly but thoroughly. Second helpings of rice. Extra pork. Kangmin nudged him jokingly, but Anxin only smiled, cheeks full, eyes bright.

After dinner, while the others drifted off, some to showers, some to their rooms, Anxin followed Sangwon without saying a word.
The practice room they chose was tucked away at the end of the hallway, one of the older ones.

The practice room lights were dimmed lower than usual. Maybe because someone had forgotten to turn them all the way back on. Or maybe no one wanted them brighter.

Sangwon sat down on the floor leaning against the wall when Anxin stood in the center, mic held loosely in his hand. He wanted to sing.

The backing track started soft, almost apologetic. Anxin closed his eyes before the first line, like he was bracing himself.
His voice came out gentle, worn at the edges.

The kind of tired that comes from smiling too much, from being careful all the time, from carrying expectations that don’t feel like yours anymore. Sangwon froze where he sat.

Each line felt unguarded. Like Anxin wasn’t performing but confessing to the room, to himself, to anyone who happened to be listening.

Sangwon’s chest tightened slowly, painfully, as if something had been winding itself around his heart without permission.

I wake up to the mirror I don't like what I see
A stranger's reflection keeps staring at me
I smile for the world but it's paper-thin
A mask I've been wearing that's cracking within

I try to be better I try to be strong
But every step forward still feels so wrong
I'm chasing a version of me I can't find
A ghost in the shadows that's trapped in my mind

I'm screaming inside but the world doesn't hear
The voice in my head is the one I most fear

I am tired of myself I can't carry this weight
Running in circles but it's always too late
I'm breaking apart in the silence I keep
Crying out loud where no one can see

I am tired so tired of being this way
Wishing tomorrow won't look like today
I've built up these walls but they're closing in tight
The harder I fight them the less I feel right

I hide all the scars where no one can see
But they're burning like fire consuming me
If I could escape from the cage in my mind
Maybe some peace is what I would find

I am tired of myself of the lies I replay
Of being the villain in my own decay
I'm breaking apart in the silence I keep
Losing the battle that's buried so deep

I am tired so tired of being this way
Praying the night can just take it away
Is there someone who'll stay when the lights go dim?
Someone who'll see past the cracks in my skin?

I don't need answers I just need a hand
To remind me I'm human to help me stand

Sangwon swallowed. He didn’t realize his eyes had started burning until his vision blurred. He looked down quickly, pressing his lips together like that might stop it.
It didn’t.

I am tired of myself but I'm reaching for more
A spark in the ashes a crack in the floor

Maybe tomorrow won't feel the same
Maybe the sun will remember my name
I am tired so tired but I'll try again
Searching for pieces I might still mend

I am tired… but maybe not done
I'll fight through the night…
Till I see the sun~

By the time the song ended, the room was completely silent.

Anxin lowered the mic, breathing a little heavier now. He opened his eyes and he looked at Sangwon.

Anxin’s expression shifted instantly.

“Hyung?” he asked, stepping closer. “Are you-”
Sangwon stood up too fast.
He didn’t say anything. Just crossed the distance between them in three uneven steps and pulled Anxin into his arms.
Anxin startled for half a second before instinct took over. His arms wrapped around Sangwon’s back, firm and grounding, like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.
Sangwon’s shoulders shook.

“I didn’t want to cry,” he said, voice breaking. “I really didn’t.”

Anxin tightened his hold, one hand coming up to cradle the back of Sangwon’s head, fingers threading gently through his hair.

“It’s okay,” Anxin murmured. “You can.”
That was all it took.
Sangwon cried into Anxin’s shoulder with the kind of helpless honesty he never allowed himself. His hands clutched at the fabric of Anxin’s shirt like he was afraid the ground might give way.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Sangwon choked out. “You don’t know how much you affect me.”
Anxin stayed silent, letting him speak. Letting him fall apart safely.

“I fell for you,” Sangwon continued, breath hitching, “from the first time I saw you. Before rankings. Before you knew me. Before we even talked.”

He laughed weakly. “I kept telling myself it was admiration. That it was normal.”
His grip tightened.

“But when you sang just now… it felt like you were saying everything I’ve been too scared to admit. I’m tired, Anxin. I’m so tired of myself. I wanted to give up. Give up on everything. Give up on my dreams. Give up on being seen. Give up on living altogether.”

His voice cracked completely.
“I am so glad I listened to Leo hyung and joined in this show. I am so glad I met you. You revived the heart which I thought was incapable of having feelings anymore. I am tired of pretending to be strong. I am tired of hiding this love.”

Anxin’s throat closed. He shifted just enough to press his cheek against Sangwon’s temple.

“I don’t need you to say anything,” Sangwon whispered quickly, panic creeping in. “I don’t need an answer. I just-” His voice cracked. “I needed you to know that you matter. That you changed me. That I’ve been carrying you quietly because I didn’t want to burden you.”

Anxin lifted a hand, fingers threading gently once again through Sangwon’s hair, grounding him.
“You’re not a burden,” Anxin said softly.

He buried his face against Anxin’s shoulder, tears soaking through the fabric.
“I know how selfish it sounds,” Sangwon choked. “But if you say no, I think I won’t be able to stand on that stage anymore. And if you say yes....” he laughed weakly, shaking his head, “I’m scared I’ll want more. I’m scared I’ll start needing you.”
Anxin didn’t let him pull away.
Instead, he wrapped both arms around Sangwon properly.

“Hyung,” Anxin said quietly.
Sangwon shook his head, panicking. “Don’t answer. Please.”
Anxin leaned in, lips brushing Sangwon’s temple, voice soft but unmovable.

“I’m going to answer anyway.”

Sangwon went still.

“You don’t get to decide that alone,” Anxin continued, tone gentle, almost smiling. “You already gave me your heart. It wouldn’t be fair if I kept mine hidden.”

He pulled back just enough to look at Sangwon’s tear-streaked face, thumbs wiping under his eyes with clumsy tenderness.
“I like you,” Anxin said again, slower this time, as if teaching him a new language. “I’ve liked you since I saw you back in the snacks room....”

Sangwon’s lips trembled.
“You don’t scare me,” Anxin whispered. “Wanting you doesn’t scare me. And if you’re afraid of needing me…”
He pressed their foreheads together.
“Then let’s be afraid together cause Lee Sangwon, I go insane without you in my arms.”

Sangwon let out a broken sob, hands clutching Anxin’s shirt like he’d fall apart if he let go. Anxin held him tighter.

“I’m here,” he murmured, over and over.

Sangwon didn’t pull away.
He stayed folded into Anxin’s chest, breaths still uneven, hands fisted in his shirt like proof Anxin was real.

Then, very softly, he spoke “…say it again.”

Anxin stilled.

Sangwon lifted his head just enough for Anxin to see his eyes red, glossy, vulnerable in a way that made Anxin’s chest ache.

“I.. I think I heard you,” Sangwon whispered, voice small, almost embarrassed by its own hope. “But I don’t trust myself right now. So… please. Just one more time.”

Anxin smiled and cupped Sangwon's face with one hand. “I like you, Li Xiangyuan.” he said gently. Sangwon’s breath caught by this sudden use of his chinese name.

“I like you a lot.” Anxin tilted his head, forehead brushing Sangwon’s. “I don’t know how to be quiet about it. I don’t know how to be careful with you.” His thumb traced a slow, comforting circle against Sangwon’s cheek.

“But I know this,” he added softly. “When you’re sad, I want to hold you. When you doubt yourself, I want to be the one who reminds you who you are.”

Sangwon’s lips parted. A tear slipped down again but this time, he was smiling through it.

Sangwon huffed out a shaky laugh, then hesitated, nerves flaring again. “Can I” He swallowed. “Can I kiss you?”

Anxin nodded immediately. Sangwon leaned in, but stopped just short, noses almost brushing, breath mingling. “This is my first time being brave,” he whispered. “So if I mess this up…”

Anxin didn't let him finish the sentence and closed the distance the rest of the way.

The first touch of Anxin's soft full lips against his own sent a jolt of shiver down Sangwon's chest. Holding Anxin this close to him, Sangwon could practically sense Anxin's sweet, fuzzy scent enveloping both of them with warmth. His heart sped up impossibly once he realised he was beginning to smell like... his crush. No, his boyfriend?

Lee Sangwon decided to temporarily push aside this thought and focus on the kiss instead.

Anxin sensed Sangwon getting distracted and pulled him closer against his chest (as if that was physically possible) and let Sangwon melt into his embrace slowly. Sangwon's hand came up resting against Anxin’s shoulder feeling the muscles ripple under his touch. His lips began moving tenderly against Anxin's, Anxin's hand supporting his waist and the back of his head, as they lost themselves into their first real kiss. When they finally pulled apart, foreheads touching again, Sangwon let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
“…wow,” he whispered, dazed.

Sangwon didn't know what peaches tasted like. Sangwon didn't know if peaches were sweet or tangy. But if they tasted like anything even remotely close to Anxin's lips, Sangwon was confident they were the best tasting fruit to ever exist.

Anxin grinned oblivious to Sangwon's inner thoughts making his dimple pop out. “You okay?” he had asked the older boy.
Sangwon nodded, eyes shining. “Yeah.” He giggled softly and pressed a kiss on Anxin's dimple leaving a wet sensation on his cheek.

“So... Are we boyfriends now?” Sangwon asked, blushing brightly.

Anxin’s smile softened as he brushed Sangwon's lips with his thumb. “I am glad you didn't give up on your dreams and that we could meet in this lifetime, Mr. Boyfriend.” ​

Chapter Text

While Anxin and Sangwon were basking in the first rays of their warm sunshine like blooming love, Kangmin and Kaiwen went to shopping. Jiahao entered the practice room alone and turned on the lights.

To the soft-spoken, introverted Zhang Jiahao dancing was one of the very few things that allowed him to express everything that he can't otherwise express through words. Dance was his way of narrating his story, a way to paint the very picture he has in his mind. He didn't mind the non-stop practice sessions he had during the first mission with little to no time to form newer friendships with his co-trainees.

But today he was in the practice room for a different purpose.

Jiahao stretched as he always did; unhurried, almost absent-minded. His body folded and unfolded with the ease of long habit, as if flexibility were not a skill but a temperament.

Light and uncertain foosteps crossed the threshold. Someone paused, as though reconsidering whether they belonged there.

Jiahao did not look up at once. Instead, he smirked secretly knowing his plan was going on smoothly.

Jiahao had known Junseo was going to walk in.

Not known known, but he’d hoped after noting Junseo's habits for past couple of days.

That was why he chose this room. That's why he wore the cropped tank top instead of a hoodie. That's also why he stretched a little longer than necessary, movements slow, unhurried, purposefully serving body tea.

Junseo stood near the mirror, hands clasped loosely, looking as if he had wandered into the wrong place and decided after much mental debate, to infact stay.

Their eyes met for a brief moment. Jiahao inclined his head in a polite bow. Junseo mirrored the gesture, awkward but sincere.

Jiahao made no effort to conceal himself. He wanted Junseo's eyes on him. He lifted his right arm and folded it behind his shoulder while his left hand grabbed near his right elbow. He bent sideways, his cropped tank top lifting up just on cue.

Jiahao's confidence started showing a bit of crack when Junseo moved to the other side of the room and began warming up instead of drinking in the sight of his skin.

He twisted his lean torso immediately and checked his waist in mirror.

That was a first. Was he losing his attractiveness?? He was very much aware of his waist being a lethal weapon for seducing men. Cause what's even the use of having a teeny tiny SNATCHED waist if he can't feel his crush's strong, muscular arm around it?!

Jiahao turned back towards Junseo and noticed the strain immediately from the way Junseo’s shoulders lifted, there was definitely some stiffness in his spine. His movements were sharp and very rigid.

Nah.. this wasn't working. He needed a bolder approach if he wants to bag this man. As soon as he thought this, he rose, dusted his palms together, and gestured toward the mat with a casual tilt of his chin.

“You’re tight in the shoulders. You’ll hurt yourself dancing like that.”

It was said the same way one states the weather.

Junseo hesitated as Jiahao stepped closer, closing the distance without ceremony.
“Sit,” he said gently. Junseo obeyed.

Jiahao knelt behind him, movements economical, unassuming. His hands found Junseo’s shoulders.

“Relax,” Jiahao murmured. “I’ll do the work.”

His thumbs pressed down, guiding muscle and tension alike into submission. The touch was practiced, almost impersonal. If Jiahao’s heart stirred from feeling the sturdy muscles under his touch, it did not show itself. His face remained composed, eyes lowered, attention fixed on the simple task of touc- I mean, massaging.

Junseo’s breathing has definitely changed. Jiahao noticed but at the same time he was wondering about what new levels of delusions had he reached. Had Junseo's breathing really changed or he was imagining things?

“Too much?” Jiahao asked, already easing his grip before an answer could be given.

“No,” Junseo said quickly. Then, softer, “It’s fine.”

Jiahao hummed. He adjusted Junseo’s posture with a light nudge at the waist. For a fleeting second, his back brushed Jiahao’s chest. Jiahao stepped back at once.

“That’s enough for today,” Jiahao said, rising. “You’ll stretch better tomorrow if you don’t force it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They walked back slowly. Both of them were still blushing. Sangwon’s ears hadn’t cooled down since the practice room. He kept one hand tucked into his sleeve, fingers curled, as if the warmth from earlier might escape if he loosened his grip. Every few steps, he stole a glance at Anxin, then looked away just as quickly.

Anxin noticed. Of course he did. How could he not notice his cute boyfriend glancing sneakily at him?

He smiled to himself matching Sangwon’s pace exactly.

When they finally reached Sangwon’s door, neither of them reached for the handle.

They stood there instead. When you are with the person you are in love with, even silent moments like this becomes heart fluttering. Like the pause after a song ends, when you don’t want to clap yet because the last note is still trembling in the air.

“…You should sleep,” Anxin said finally, shyly scratching his head. “Tomorrow’s going to be long.”

Sangwon nodded, then shook his head, then laughed quietly at himself.
“I don’t think I can,” he admitted. “My heart’s still… doing things.”

Anxin’s smile widened, fond and unapologetic.
“That’s okay,” he said. “Mine too.”

He hesitated, then reached out slowly giving Sangwon time to pull away if he wanted to. When Sangwon didn’t, Anxin took his hand, thumb brushing over the knuckles once, soothing.

“Good night, hyung,” Anxin said, softer than before.

Sangwon’s throat tightened. He squeezed Anxin’s hand , “…Good night, Anxinie.”

Anxin let go first.

He stepped back, offering Sangwon the choice this time. Sangwon watched him go, heart full and unsteady, until Anxin turned at the end of the corridor and gave a small wave.

Only then did Sangwon open the door.
Inside, the room felt warmer.

He closed the door gently behind him, pressed his forehead against it for a second, and let out a little squeal.

Anxin had barely made it halfway down the corridor when he stopped short.

“Oh!!!!”

He turned so fast his slippers almost slipped.

Heart thudding against his ribcage from excitement, Anxin broke into a quiet run, hair bouncing, cheeks still warm from earlier. He reached Sangwon’s door and knocked a little too eagerly.

Knock. Knock.

Inside, Sangwon had just kicked off his shoes when he froze. Who could it be at this time, he wondered.

He opened the door almost immediately. “Yes?” He asked, then he saw Anxin, slightly out of breath, eyes bright, hands tucked behind his back like he was hiding something.

“I forgot something,” Anxin blurted.
Sangwon’s heart skipped. “Did you-”
“My phone,” Anxin said, then corrected himself quickly, flustered. “I mean, your number. I forgot to ask for your number.”

For a second, Sangwon just stared at this cute and slightly breathless human infront of him.

Then he laughed softly, disbelievingly, fondly.

“You ran all the way back for that?” he asked.
Anxin nodded seriously. “What if I miss you at night? How will I survive till tomorrow morning without talking to you?”

The words landed right on Sangwon's racing heart .

He reached for his phone with hands that were still a little unsteady and held it out. Anxin took it, fingers brushing Sangwon’s again. He typed his name carefully, then paused.
“What should I save me as?” he asked, glancing up.

Sangwon’s ears burned. “Anxinie.”
Anxin grinned. “Too plain.”

He typed anyway, added a small cat emoji and a red heart emoji without asking, and handed the phone back.

Sangwon looked down at the screen, lips curling up despite himself.
Anxin pulled out his own phone next. “Call me.”
Sangwon did.
The vibration in Anxin’s palm felt absurdly intimate.
“There,” Anxin said, satisfied. “Now I can sleep without a worry.”

“Good night, Sangwonie hyung,” he whispered.
Sangwon smiled, voice just as soft. “Good night, Anxinie.”

Anxin turned to leave again.

The door had barely clicked shut when

Knock.

It was so immediate that Sangwon thought he imagined it. He opened the door again, confusion still on his face only for it to vanish completely when Anxin stepped forward without a word, hands fisting lightly into Sangwon’s shirt.
Anxin leaned forward and placed a quick peck on Sangwon's swollen lips.

Anxin pulled back just enough to smile, eyes crinkling, snaggletooth and dimple both showing, utterly pleased with himself.

“Good night, baby” he said, sweet as sugar, like he hadn’t just detonated Sangwon’s nervous system.

Sangwon stood there, stunned, lips warm, brain completely offline.
“…You!” he started, then stopped. His face bloomed red all the way to his ears.
Anxin laughed softly, the sound fond and low, and finally let go of Sangwon’s shirt.

“Sleep well,” he added, gentler now. “Dream of nice things.”

Before Sangwon could recover Anxin turned and padded away down the hallway, hands clasped behind his back like a child who’d just gotten away after causing mischief.

Sangwon remained frozen in the doorway for a full five seconds.

Then he lifted a hand and pressed his fingers to his lips, as if checking whether that really just happened.

It had.

He closed the door slowly this time, leaned back against it, and slid down until he was sitting on the floor; heart racing, smile helpless, cheeks burning.

“…My boyfriend,” he whispered to the empty room, trying the words out like they were a treasure.

Anxin practically floated down the hallway.
He had both hands clapped over his mouth, shoulders shaking with silent laughter, cheeks aching from how hard he was smiling. The moment he slipped into his room, he kicked the door shut behind him and made a beeline for the bed, then launched himself onto it like gravity had personally betrayed him.

He rolled. Once. Twice. Face buried into the pillow, legs kicking the mattress, a muffled, breathless giggle escaping despite his best efforts to contain it.

“Oh my god,” he whispered into the fabric, voice embarrassingly happy.

From across the room, Kangmin paused mid water-bottle sip and stared.

He asked flatly, “Are you possessed?”

Anxin popped his head up, hair a mess, eyes sparkling, cheeks still violently pink. He flopped onto his back, arms spread wide like a starfish, staring at the ceiling with the dazed smile of someone who had absolutely lost the plot.

“I’m going to sleep,” he announced, far too cheerfully. Kangmin narrowed his eyes. “You just got here.”

Anxin rolled onto his side, hugging the pillow to his chest, grin softening into something dreamy. “Yeah,” he said. “But I’m very tired.”
Kangmin watched him for a long second, then shook his head.

“…Stupid” he muttered, turning away.

Anxin only giggled again and let his eyes fall shut, heart full, lips still warm, happiness buzzing under his skin like it might never leave.

​

Chapter Text

Anxin woke up like the sun had personally chosen him.

He stretched under the blanket, eyes still half-closed, a soft smile already tugging at his lips. When he rolled out of bed, the smile stayed. It followed him to the sink, where he brushed his teeth while humming a tune that didn’t quite exist yet.

Kangmin watched from his bed, unimpressed.
“You’re acting creepy,” he said.

Anxin only laughed, foam still in his mouth, eyes crinkling as if the world had suddenly become very kind. He rinsed, wiped his mouth, and leaned over to wrap Kangmin in a quick, tight hug.

“Good morning!” he chirped.

Kangmin stiffened, then sighed. “Are you in love or something???”

Anxin was already pulling away, pretending not to hear, cheeks faintly pink but smile unbroken.

He grabbed his hoodie, slipped into his slippers, and bounced out the door with so much energy it was almost offensive for such early morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the Whiplash team returned the next day after finishing their studio choom schedule, bodies sore, adrenaline finally ebbing out of their bones, Jiahao was already in the gym.

He’d changed into a form-fitting training top and grey sweatpants.

Junseo walked in halfway through a set.
Jiahao noticed immediately. Of course he did.
He straightened, grabbed the water bottle beside him, trying to strike up a conversation. “Hey,” Jiahao said. “Shooting ended already?”

Junseo glanced at the bottle, then at Jiahao. His expression was very polite. “You should hydrate after stretching, not during. It messes with muscle recovery.”

“Oh,” Jiahao said, blinking once. “Right.”
He nodded, that was not exactly the type of interaction he’d planned.

Junseo set his bag down and tapped Jiahao's abdomen, “Think of tightening your stomach like someone’s about to punch you. That protects your lower back.”

Jiahao adjusted automatically. “Like this?”
“Yeah,” Junseo said. “Better.”

Junseo began lightly jogging in the treadmill nearby.

A few minutes later Jiahao tried again to initiate a decent conversation, wiping sweat from his neck. “How was your shooting?”

Junseo looked over at Jiahao's direction.

Jiahao stared at him while pushing back his hairs frustratedly. “…I was making conversation,” he said.

Junseo looked genuinely surprised. Then he nodded. “Oh. Yeah. It was tiring.”
And then, “You should roll out your calves before you leave. Prevents cramps.”

Jiahao laughed quietly to himself. He was going insane.

During dinner, Kangmin and Jiahao appeared like a matched set; one calm, one catastrophically not.
They plopped down directly opposite Anxin and Sangwon, trays landing with a dull thunk.

Kangmin looked at Anxin and then Jiahao. Anxin was glowing. Practically sparkling looking like sunshine in human form, cheeks pink, eyes bright. Jiahao, on the other hand, looked like he was personally responsible for the invention of thunderstorms.

He stared at his food for exactly two seconds before slumping forward dramatically.
“I have something to announce,” Jiahao said, voice flat with despair.

“I have a CRUSH,” Jiahao continued, ignoring him completely, “and I tried. I really tried.”

Anxin’s eyes lit up immediately. “Oh?” Even Sangwon paused mid-bite.

Jiahao stabbed at his rice like it had wronged him. “I stretched. I bent. I wore a tank top. I even helped him stretch, intimately.”

Kangmin choked on his drink.

Anxin gasped, hand flying to his mouth. “Intimately?”
“I touched his WAIST,” Jiahao wailed, dropping his chopsticks. “With consent! Professionally! Like a good human being!” he added quickly.

Sangwon blinked. “…And?”

“And today when we met in gym, he gave me FITNESS ADVICE,” Jiahao cried. “FITNESS. ADVICE.”

Anxin slapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

“I showered,” Jiahao went on, voice rising, “came out looking edible, DO YOU UNDERSTAND???? E.D.I.B.L.E !!!!! And when I took one step closer, he stepped back and said, ‘Don’t come close, I’m sweaty.’ ”

Kangmin nodded solemnly. “That’s devastating.”

“I am DEVASTATED,” Jiahao said. “Do you know how humbling it is to be rejected like this???! After literally offering yourself served on a platter?”

Anxin was fully giggling now, shoulders shaking.

Jiahao concluded, pointing at his chest, “Maybe I’m not attractive anymore. Maybe my flexibility is just… athletic and NOT sexy. Maybe I am meant to die alone doing splits.”

Sangwon cleared his throat, trying and failing to hide a smile. “You said it was Junseo hyung right?”

“Yes!” Jiahao slammed his palm on the table. “His broad shoulders, his big biceps.” Hao was whining like a kid who got denied of his favourite candy.

Kangmin patted Jiahao’s shoulder. “Maybe he’s just… slow.”

“Slow?” Jiahao scoffed. “I practically waved a green flag and he thought it was a traffic sign.”

Anxin leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. “Hao-ge,” he said gently, “have you considered the possibility that he’s trying very hard not to react?”

Jiahao paused.
“…Why would anyone do that? I was basically asking to be eaten.” he asked, genuinely baffled. The clouds over Jiahao’s head rumbled on.

Sangwon was listening silently till now. He finally spoke, making things worse ,“Hao-ge, what if he isn't into men?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Junseo didn't know exactly when it started to become a problem. Was it when Jiahao wore the crop top? Or was it when he stretched, bent, lingered making Junseo imagine what would he look like bent over with his dick sheathed deep inside him?!

Because every time Jiahao leaned forward, every time his shirt rode up and revealed that narrow strip of his golden skin at his waist, Junseo’s body reacted before his mind could scold it. Heat curled low in his stomach, ugly and primal and hungry.

He wanted to grab. To pin. To bite down and not let go.

The thought made his jaw clench hard enough to ache.

You’re disgusting, he told himself. That realization hit Junseo like a slow burn down his spine.

Jiahao was a poor innocent lamb presenting itself infront of a big bad wolf thinking it was another lamb. Junseo was scared if Jiahao knew exactly what thoughts were going on inside his head, he would never ever be allowed within 2 km radius of Jiahao's vicinity.

In the gym, when Junseo saw Jiahao in the body hugging top, he started giving advice like his life depended on it.

Fixing posture. Correcting form. Keeping his hands brief and necessary, because if he let them linger on that ridiculously tiny waist of his, if he acknowledged the pulse racing under Jiahao’s skin, he was certain he’d lose something essential - decency.

Junseo turned away, fists clenched, straight into the shower room which was still steamy from the time Jiahao took shower in it (which was basically 5 minutes ago) trying to calm the snake threatening to raise it's head inside his pants. He was such a pervert. He got turned on, AGAIN, by Jiahao in a bathrobe and wet hair.

Stop looking at him like prey, he ordered himself. You’re not an animal in heat.

But the truth was cruel and undeniable:
Jiahao was his temptress.

He would rather die than acknowledge that he was jacking off thinking about how Jiahao would look, in a lacey lingerie and sheer stockings, giving him a lap dance.

Nah! Junseo really needs to file a restraining order against himself. He can't be trusted around Zhang Jiahao anymore.

Chapter Text

Being P01 in a survival show came with special perks. Like in Sangwon's case, he could have a whole room to himself. Well, atleast before he had a boyfriend. Now his exclusive single room belongs to both him and his boyfriend's.

Anxin, his boyfriend, liked that Sangwon’s room was quiet in that soft, private way that only existed when the world had finally been shut out. Anxin liked the warm light from the lamp spilling over the bed where he was half-curled against Sangwon’s side, his cheek pressed to Sangwon’s chest, Anxin liked how Sangwon's scent has completely filled the room, Anxin liked how Sangwon's steady heartbeat against his ribcage sounded. Very grounding, very comforting.

Sangwon held 'Little Women' in one hand, the other absently resting in Anxin’s hair, fingers moving now and then like he was afraid to stop.

His voice was calm and steady as he continued to read the book to Anxin.

“…and though she was little, she was fearless”

Sangwon paused mid-sentence, glancing down. Anxin’s toes were curling against the blanket, his fingers fiddling with the hem of Sangwon’s shirt, twisting the fabric and letting go like he was working up courage.

“You okay?” Sangwon asked gently, closing the book just enough to mark the page with his finger. “You’ve been wiggling for a while.”

Anxin laughed softly, embarrassed, and buried his face for a second in Sangwon’s shoulder before peeking back up. His ears were pink. His eyes were bright but shy.

“I was trying to decide if I should say it,” he admitted.
Sangwon smiled, thumb brushing Anxin’s cheek. “Say what?”
Anxin swallowed. He took a breath like he was about to sing a high note.
“…Do you wanna go on a Haidilao date with me?”

Sangwon blinked. “A what?”

“A Haidilao date,” Anxin repeated, suddenly animated despite his blush. “Hotpot. Together. Just us. We can order too much food and fight over the sauce station and I’ll cook the meat for you to eat.”

Sangwon stared at him and laughed, real and soft. The sound vibrated through Anxin’s cheek where it rested against him.

“That’s your big, serious question?” he teased.
Anxin nodded solemnly. “Very serious. Extremely important. It will be our first date if you say yes.”

Sangwon tilted Anxin’s chin up, “I thought you were about to confess to a crime.”

“I already confessed to liking you, though it's not a crime to like someone...” Anxin said quietly. “This is the next step. I want to take the next step with you. Sangwonie hyung, will you go out on a haidilao date with me?”

Sangwon’s smile gentled. “Yes,” he said without hesitation. “I’d love to.”

Anxin’s face lit up like he’d just been told he’d won something impossible. “Really?” Anxin asked in a high pitched tone.

“Really,” Sangwon confirmed, brushing a kiss into Anxin’s hair.

Anxin grinned.

Sangwon chuckled and reopened the book, tucking Anxin closer with one arm. He said, resuming his place, “Jo was the only one who flatly refused to wear gloves, and who burned to ride astride, and who cropped her hair short, and whistled, and talked slang, and hated romance, and wanted to be a soldier, or else a soldier’s wife, and to fight and die for her country.”

Anxin slowly drifted into sleep, Sangwon's voice getting quieter and quieter by every passing second..

Sangwon had always had a very clear idea of what he liked. He likes older guys. He liked mature presence. People who felt like they already knew where they were going. It had never been something he questioned. But then Anxin existed.

Young, expressive, honest, full of energy. He fidgeted when he was nervous, smiled too brightly when he was happy, asked for things with this careful bravery that made Sangwon’s chest ache in the softest way.

Sangwon looked down at him now. Anxin was curled into him, one arm wrapped loosely around Sangwon’s waist, lashes resting against flushed cheeks. Every now and then, even in sleep, his fingers twitched.

Sangwon felt something melt.

Having a younger boyfriend meant unexpected sweetness. It meant being asked out with shy eyes and big courage. It meant being trusted so openly it felt almost sacred. Anxin made him realise that steadiness didn’t always come from age, it came from sincerity.

He smiled, helpless.

“Looks like I found my exception,” Sangwon murmured under his breath.

Without thinking too hard about it, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Anxin’s plump lips. When Anxin shifted and made a small, content sound, Sangwon chuckled quietly and kissed his forehead too.

Sangwon hugged him a little closer, heart warm and foolish and full.

Yeah. Having a younger boyfriend wasn’t just not bad. It was ridiculously, unfairly cute.

Anxin stirred, his nose brushing Sangwon’s collarbone, his knee sliding across the mattress. Sangwon barely had time to register it before Anxin lifted himself up and, in one smooth movement, climbed over him.

Sangwon froze. Anxin straddled the space above him, arms coming down on either side of Sangwon’s head, palms pressing into the mattress. He hovered there, hair falling forward, eyes still a little hazy with sleep but very much focused.

Sangwon’s breath hitched despite himself. “…Anxin?”

Anxin blinked slowly, like a cat that had just decided something very important. A small smile tugged at his lips.

“You kissed me,” he said, voice soft, accusing in the gentlest way.

Sangwon laughed under his breath, utterly caught. “Weren't you asleep?”

“Mmm. I felt it,” Anxin replied. He gently sat, straddling Sangwon directly this time. “Thought I was dreaming. Turns out my boyfriend is sneaky.”

Boyfriend.... The word landed warm in Sangwon’s chest inducing some serious and big species of butterflies in his tummy.

“I’m sorry,” Sangwon said, smiling up at him. “Should I apologize properly?”

Anxin hummed, pretending to think, then nodded very seriously. “Yes. I think so.”

Before Sangwon could say anything else, Anxin dipped down and kissed him; slow, sweet, unhurried. If Sangwon could stop time just to feel those soft & sweet lips on him forever, he really would.

When Anxin pulled back, he was grinning, eyes bright now. “There. We’re even.”

Sangwon reached up, hands settling at Anxin’s waist, grounding them both. “You’re so cute” he said fondly.

Anxin giggled, “You like it.”

Sangwon smiled, utterly defeated. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I really do.”

“I can tell.”

Chapter Text

Sangwon did not expect to feel like this.
He had dated before. He had liked before.
He had even thought he understood what first dates were supposed to feel like. But first date with Anxin was different.

From the moment Anxin handed him the carefully curated flower bouquet with slightly trembling fingers and very feline looking eyes, something inside Sangwon had melted into a puddle.

And then Anxin just… kept going. He held Sangwon’s hand the entire walk to Haidilao like he was guiding him through a grand adventure instead of crossing a street. He kept glancing sideways to check if Sangwon was safe, if Sangwon was comfortable, if he was warm enough, if he was enjoying himself.

“Are you happy?” At that point Anxin had asked this at least five times. “I am,” and Sangwon had replied every single time with reassurance.

Inside the restaurant, Anxin turned into an overly dedicated boyfriend on a mission. He cooked the meat carefully. Blew on dumplings before placing them in Sangwon’s bowl. Wiped a drop of sauce from the corner of Sangwon’s lips with such tender concentration that Sangwon almost combusted on the spot.

It was too much. Anxin was too cute. Too earnest.

Sangwon felt once again that cuteness aggression was real.

He just wanted to grab Anxin’s cheeks and squish them. He wanted to kiss his exposed forehead. He wanted to hide him from the world and also show him off at the same time.

When Anxin’s glasses slid slightly down his nose from the steam, and he pushed them back up with that focused little frown...
Sangwon had to physically restrain himself from tackling him across the table.

“You’re staring again,” Anxin said shyly.
“You look hot with your glasses on,” Sangwon smiled foolishly while resting his face on his hand.

After dinner, Anxin announced, “Date not finished.” Sangwon blinked. “There’s more?”
“Of course.” The younger one replied and dragged Sangwon to a small ice cream stand near their dorm. The night air was cooler now, city lights glowing softly around them.

“What flavor?” Anxin asked eagerly.
“Surprise me.” Anxin gasped like this was a big responsibility.
He returned with two cones; one chocolate, one vanilla swirl and handed the prettier one to Sangwon without hesitation.

They walked slowly, shoulders brushing, licking melting ice cream under streetlights.

Sangwon smiled quietly, intertwining his fingers with his boyfriend's slightly larger ones.

“You are the cutest person I have ever met,” he confessed. Anxin looked scandalized and pleased at the same time. “I am handsome tonight.

“You’re both,” Sangwon said firmly.

And that was the problem. Anxin was chic and hot in his glasses and rolled sleeves. But he was also sunshine. Also soft. Also impossibly sincere.

And as Anxin rambled excitedly about future date ideas “We can go aquarium next time. Or picnic. Or get matching rings” Sangwon wrapped his arm around Anxin's waist pulling him closer.

Anxin's heart skipped a beat. He turned his face towards Sangwon, his eyes glistening with moisture. He had never felt so gently cherished.

“Let's debut together, hyung. I want to spend the rest of my life cherishing you.” Anxin had said in a shaky voice.

Sangwon just stared at him, at the slightly flushed cheeks, at the hopeful teary eyes that didn’t look away, at the way Anxin stood there; open, earnest, offering his whole heart without armor.

His body reacted before his mind and pulled Anxin into a tight hug.

Sangwon's arms wrapped fully around his waist, face pressed into his shoulder. Anxin had melted instantly in his arms. His arms slid around Sangwon’s back, just as firm. Just as certain.

“Hyung?” he whispered.
“Stop talking,” Sangwon muttered, voice muffled against his shoulder.
He felt stupidly emotional. Over something so simple. Anxin tightened his hold a little.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asked softly.

“No. You didn't. Let's debut together, Anxinie.” Sangwon murmured.

Sangwon pressed a kiss on Anxin's neck without much thought but a quiet moan escaped Anxin's mouth startling both of them at once. Anxin pulled back instantly and covered his mouth.

Sangwon was stunned at the sudden sound Anxin made. “Anxinie?” he called gently yet his eyes were sparkling with mischief.

Anxin stood there looking embarassed, trying desperately to avoid Sangwon's eyes.

Anxin was dying. Outwardly, he looked like a flustered, slightly embarrassed boyfriend who had made a suspicious little sound.

Internally? Total collapse!!!

He had promised himself he would take things slow. That he would be careful, gentle and respectful.

Sangwon had trusted him. Anxin never, never wanted to make him feel rushed or pressured or uncomfortable. And yet the second Sangwon’s lips brushed that stupidly sensitive spot on his neck, his body betrayed him.

Now his brain was spiraling. What if he thinks I’m too much? What if he thinks I’m impatient?
What if he thinks I’m perverted? What if he thinks I want to move too fast?

Anxin swallowed hard, still avoiding eye contact.
Anxin covered his face with one hand before finally speaking. “Please pretend you didn’t hear anything.”

“Oh, I definitely heard something.”

“Xiangyuan.”

Sangwon gently reached up and peeled Anxin’s hand away from his face. His boyfriend was refusing eye contact with the dedication of someone facing a firing squad.

“I don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me. I don’t want you to think I’m… I don’t know. Too much.” Anxin spoke slowly. His fingers curled into the hem of his shirt.

There it was. The raw vulnerability.

Sangwon stepped closer. He cupped Anxin’s face gently, thumbs warm against his cheeks.

“I just don’t want to scare you away,” he admitted.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Sangwon said, brushing his thumb lightly under Anxin’s eye. “If anything, I feel… wanted.”

Finally, slowly, Anxin glanced at him.

“Relax,” Sangwon whispered. “I liked it.”

Anxin immediately combusted again by the sight of that devilishly handsome face infront of him that makes his heart race everytime they are close.

Sangwon who was thoroughly entertained and deeply smitten by his little boyfriend's cute antics decided he must revisit that exact spot on Anxin’s neck very soon.

Chapter Text

Junseo avoided Jiahao like he was contagious.
It started the moment he’d stammered out that ridiculous excuse of “Don’t come closer. I’m… sweaty.”

Sweaty. As if that had been the problem.
As if the real issue hadn’t been the way Jiahao had stepped out of the shower in nothing but a loose bathrobe, hair damp, collarbone exposed, skin still flushed from hot water.
As if Junseo hadn’t been one second away from losing every ounce of self-control he possessed.

So he did what any emotionally constipated, internally spiraling man would do. He ran.
And then he kept running.

At gym, he positioned himself at the opposite corner of the room whenever possible. During breaks, if Jiahao walked toward the vending machine, Junseo suddenly remembered he needed to refill his water bottle. If Jiahao sat down on the couch, Junseo stood. If Jiahao laughed and leaned into someone’s shoulder, Junseo looked anywhere but there. He became a master of calculated distance.

It was exhausting. Because the problem wasn’t that he didn’t want to look. It was that he wanted to look too much.

After successfully bagging himself the man of his dreams, Anxin self-appointed himself in the role of a cupid and he took his role as Cupid very seriously.

If Jiahao wasn’t going to make progress on his own, then Anxin would simply manufacture an opportunity for him.

So he did what any reasonable younger brother would do. He invited everyone he was close to, to an empty practice room on the last day of their 1 week break for a mini party.

Whiplash team. Jiahao. Kaiwen. He Xinlong. Kangmin. Even Leejeong, who showed up claiming he was “just here for the pizza” was looking far too entertained already.

The practice room floor was covered in pizza boxes within minutes; pepperoni, bulgogi, extra cheese, something suspiciously green that no one admitted ordering. The atmosphere was loud, messy, warm.

Anxin strategically plopped himself right next to Jiahao. Junseo ended up right across them. Also strategic.

Jiahao was mid-rant about sauce ratios when Anxin suddenly leaned over, eyes wide and dramatic. “Hao ge, that slice looks better than mine.”

Jiahao blinked. “It’s literally the same pizza.”

“Yours looks happier,” Anxin insisted, leaning closer and pouting. “One bite?”

Without hesitation, Jiahao held it up. “Fine.”

Anxin didn’t take it with his hands (also very very stragetic). He leaned forward and bit directly from Jiahao’s slice, their fingers brushing lightly as he did.

“Disgusting,” Leo commented lazily.
Kaiwen cackled. He Xinlong nearly choked laughing.

Anxin's overworking peripheral vision noticed immediately when Junseo stopped chewing.

Cuteness baiting his Hao ge into feeding him was working, Anxin thought.

Junseo’s jaw really tightened.

It was stupid. It was harmless. He understood this. They were friends. Everyone shared food all the time with there friends. Like... sharing food wasn’t intimate at all. So why did it feel like something crawled under his skin?

Anxin pulled back, dramatically satisfied. “See? Yours tastes better.”

Junseo set his slice down a little harder than necessary.

Kangmin too noticed it, eyes flicking towards Anxin with quiet amusement.

Jiahao noticed late because he was mid-laugh when he happened to glance up and lock eyes with Junseo.

And whatever he saw there, was not something he would have expected Junseo's face to show; especially after the full on mental breakdown he had thinking he wasn't sexy enough to seduce Junseo.

Junseo averted his gaze from Jiahao, grabbing his drink. The slight flare in his nostrils, the tension in his neck, the way his fingers curled tight around the cup.

It was unmistakable. Jiahao’s heart skipped. Junseo was showing symptoms of a disease he knows very well. Jealousy. Jealousy is a disease and Junseo has caught it.

Anxin, ever the menace, leaned in again and whispered loud enough for Junseo to possibly hear, “Hao ge, want to share another bite?” earning him a light slap on his shoulder from his beloved Hao ge.

Jiahao noticed Junseo standing up abruptly and leaving the room.

“Please excuse me.” Jiahao said and deliberately followed Junseo, stepping into his path in the hallway. Junseo halted like he’d encountered a wall.

Junseo could smell Jiahao’s shampoo. Feel the warmth radiating from him. His pulse spiked.

He took a step back.
“I need to” Junseo gestured vaguely behind him. “water.”
“Your bottle is already full.” Jiahao said slowly.

Junseo blinked. “…Other bottle.” And then he sidestepped him. Actually sidestepped him.

Jiahao was like a live wire. Because every time Jiahao smiled at him, every time he stretched in those damn crop tops, every time he licked off his straw and made eye contact
Junseo’s restraint frayed.

He was scared of himself. Scared that if Jiahao cornered him again, if he looked at him the way he sometimes did, Junseo wouldn’t stop at asking him to keep his distance. He’d close it. All of it.

And that thought alone made him keep running. All his life he was running away from acknowledging the fact that he is indeed attracted to men. All his life he tried dating women, although unsuccessful, to keep his life seem put together in front of his friends and family. He has been running away his whole life. From everything.

A loud thud sounded behind Junseo. A sickening thud. A sharp crack of heel against stair edge. Then silence.

Junseo’s heart stopped. He saw Jiahao crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, one hand gripping his ankle, the other pressed to the floor like he was trying to hold himself together.

“Jiahao!” Junseo was down the steps in seconds.

Up close, it was worse. Jiahao’s ankle was already swelling, his breathing uneven. His lashes were wet.

“Jiahao,” Junseo said, kneeling. “Don’t move.”
He reached out. Jiahao flinched. “Don’t touch me.”

Junseo’s hand hovered mid-air before slowly withdrawing. “You’re hurt.”

“I said don’t touch me.” Jiahao’s jaw tightened. He tried to stand and immediately crumpled back down with a hiss of pain.

Junseo’s composure cracked. “Stop being stubborn.”

“Why?” Jiahao snapped, finally looking up.
His eyes were red.

There were tears balancing on Jiahao’s lashes, but he refused to let them drop. His fingers dug into his injured ankle like he’d rather endure that pain than something else entirely.

Junseo’s brows knit together. “What are you talking about?”
Jiahao let out a disbelieving laugh. “One day you’re fixing my form, touching my waist, telling me to breathe slower. The next day you won’t even stand next to me.”

Junseo didn’t have an answer he could say out loud. Because the truth sounded insane.
Because the truth was: I wanted you too much.

Jiahao laughed again, weakly, but it was brittle. “My ankle hurts. Yeah. But that’s nothing compared to feeling like I’m not even worth looking at for more than a second.”

“That’s not it!”
“Then what is it?” Jiahao demanded.
The tears fell this time. “I come near you, you leave. I talk to you, you cut it short. I look at you, you look away.” His voice cracked. “Did I do something wrong?”

Junseo swallowed. He had answers. Too many answers. None of them safe.
“You’re overthinking,” he said finally.

The worst possible thing he could’ve said.
Jiahao stared at him like he’d just been slapped. “Overthinking?” His laugh broke into something wet and furious. “You think this is in my head?”

Junseo looked away. And that was it. That was the confirmation.
Jiahao wiped his tears angrily with the back of his hand. “You know what? Fine. If I make you that uncomfortable, I’ll stay out of your way. It was my fault for falling for such a coward like you who can't even man up and be honest about his wants.”

He tried to push himself up again, stubborn and shaking. Junseo grabbed his arm on instinct.

“Let go,” Jiahao hissed, physically struggling against him despite the pain shooting through his ankle.
“Stop fighting me.”
“Why?” Jiahao choked. “So you can ignore me again tomorrow?”

More tears slipped down Jiahao’s cheeks. He was furious, humiliated.

Junseo didn’t think anymore. If he thought, he would hesitate. If he hesitated, he would lose him.
So instead of explaining, instead of hiding behind half-answers and unfinished sentences, Junseo lifted Jiahao up by his waist and with one swift smooth motion made him face him.

Jiahao barely had time to gasp before Junseo’s hand slid to the back of his neck and pulled him in.

And then came the all consuming desperate kiss crashing down Jiahao's lips without warning. It was messy and hungry and years of restraint collapsing all at once.

Junseo’s grip tightened, fingers trembling against Jiahao’s jaw as if asking him not to disappear.

His heart skipped a beat when Jiahao began responding back with the same want, the same need and the same hunger. Junseo tilted his head, deepening it without thinking, breath uneven, heart pounding violently against his ribs. It was raw, unfiltered emotion spilling out through contact because words had failed him. Junseo's restless tongue in Jiahao’s mouth was trying to say everything he had been swallowing for weeks. The fear. The jealousy. The longing. The panic of almost losing him.

A shaky breath escaped Jiahao's mouth. Ignoring the dull throb in his ankle, Jiahao shifted his weight to his healthy leg and wrapped his injured leg around Junseo’s hip.

Junseo reacted on pure instinct, one arm shooting down to catch Jiahao’s thigh, palm firm against it as he supported his weight. The other hand gripped Jiahao’s waist, keeping him from slipping. Junseo's kiss descended down his jaw to his neck. He tilted his head backwards giving Junseo a better access, his body weight resting against Junseo's arm around his lower back. He groaned involuntarily as Jiahao started grinding his crotch against Junseo's like a desperate needy animal in heat.

Junseo pulled back just enough to breathe, their foreheads nearly touching, lips still brushing, feeling Jiahao's shaky breaths on his face. His voice came out wrecked. “Don’t leave me.”

Jiahao's hands fisted Junseo's hair frustratedly, pulling it harshly and snapped at him “Oh shut up and kiss me again.”

Junseo's eyes instantly mirrored the lust he saw in Jiahao's eyes. His hand landed on Jiahao's ass speaking in a raspy tone breathing heavily “I want to bend you over the railing and take you right here. Too bad, you are injured.”

Chapter Text

Fortunately, Jiahao’s injury wasn’t severe. The doctor had examined his swollen ankle, pressed lightly along the joint.

A swift, precise motion. A sharp crack.
Jiahao had gasped, fingers digging into the edge of the bed and then the pain magically dulled into something manageable.

“Sprain,” the doctor confirmed. “Rest well and no reckless movement.”

Jiahao nodded, pretending that last part wasn’t personally targeted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The countdown for the position battle started the moment teams were formed.

Five days. That was all they had. Five days to rearrange vocals, polish choreography, fight for lines, fix formations, memorize expressions, survive evaluations all while juggling the regular filming schedule that never seemed to end.

The week blurred. Practice rooms stayed lit past midnight. Voices grew hoarse.

One certain ankle was taped tighter. Tempers ran thinner.

Anxin practically lived in the vocal room.
“Again from the bridge,” his teammate would say.

He’d nod, sip water, and start over.

“Breathe” wasn’t just about hitting notes, it required control. Emotional restraint. He practiced until his throat felt raw.

Meanwhile, Sangwon barely sat down all week. “Like Jennie” demanded precision. Sharp isolations. Clean angles. Charisma that didn’t flicker even for half a second.

He drilled the choreography over and over until his muscles moved without permission.

They barely saw each other. Same building. Different worlds. By the time Anxin left practice, Sangwon's solo practice just began. By the time Sangwon dragged himself back to the dorm, Anxin was asleep with sheet music still open beside him.

They passed once in a hallway on day three.
Both carrying bags. Both exhausted.

“You ate?” Sangwon asked.
Anxin nodded. “You?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t strain your throat,” Sangwon added quietly.
“Don’t overwork yourself” Anxin replied.

Then staff called their names from opposite ends. And they walked away. Five days felt like five months.

Jiahao pushed himself just as hard.

“Tambourine” was rhythm-heavy, playful but controlled. The stage would expose any hesitation.

Finally. Shooting day arrived. The stage lights glowed bright. The audience seats filled. Camera rigs rolled into position. Backstage, the air felt electric.

Anxin stood in his performance outfit, mic taped neatly against his cheek. He rolled his shoulders once, breathing slowly.

Across the hall, Sangwon adjusted his in-ear monitors, expression calm but focused, the sharp confidence of “Like Jennie” already settling into his posture.

Jiahao flexed his taped ankle one last time, jaw tight. Five days. It all came down to one take. One stage. One moment that could change everything.

The PD’s voice echoed through the monitors:
“Position battle. Recording starts now.”

The night stretched long. One by one, the units performed. Dance stages shook the floor. Rap stages set the audience on fire. Cheers rose, lights flashed, judges scribbled notes.

Backstage, Anxin sat quietly with his team, hands shaking with anxiety.

“Breathe” was last.

Sangwon had already performed “Like Jennie.” He had been very very charismatic. The audience screamed his name endlessly.

But now that the adrenaline had faded, exhaustion crept in. Five days of drilling choreography until his legs trembled. Five days of pretending he wasn’t tired. Five days of barely sleeping. He told himself he was fine.

Then the stage lights dimmed. “Vocal Position ‘Breathe.’ ”
Anxin walked out along with Kangmin and Gyehyeon.

Soft piano sound filled the studio.

Anxin stood under a single spotlight, mic steady in his hand. The first note left his lips clear and gentle.

Sangwon’s chest tightened immediately.
Anxin wasn’t overpowering the song. He wasn’t showing off. He was telling it.
Each line carried a quiet reassurance, each phrase controlled but trembling at the edges with emotion.

The lyrics about being tired. About wanting to rest. About enduring even when it feels too much....

Sangwon swallowed hard. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that.

*It’s okay if you run out of breath.
No one will blame you.*

Anxin’s voice floated through the venue, warm and steady like a hand gently patting on your back, like a reassuring soft hug.

Sangwon’s vision blurred. Anxin stepped into the final chorus.

And he sang the last lines softer than the rest. Like a whisper meant for one person.

The message was simple. You did well. You worked hard. You can breathe now.

Sangwon’s lips trembled. He had pushed himself so hard that week. Forced himself not to complain. Not to show fatigue. Not to falter.
And hearing Anxin sing those words... It felt like comfort wrapped in melody.

By the time the final note faded into silence, Sangwon couldn’t hold it together anymore.

Tears spilled freely down his cheeks.
He covered his mouth, shoulders shaking, but it was useless. He was sobbing.

The filming wrapped late. Sangwon had cried himself quiet by the end.

When they stepped off set and into the dimmer hallway lights, Anxin didn’t say anything. He simply walked closer, close enough for their shoulders to brush.

The car ride back to their dorm was quiet.
Most of the trainees had dozed off, heads tipped against windows, makeup slightly smudged, exhaustion finally winning over adrenaline.

Sangwon had fallen asleep somewhere between the studio gates and the city lights.
His head had tilted slowly and then settled cozily against Anxin’s shoulder.

By the time the van rolled to a stop outside the dorm, staff voices stirred everyone awake.
“Okay, we’re here.”

Sangwon didn’t move. Anxin glanced down.
His lashes rested softly against his cheeks. His breathing was slow and even. Without stage makeup and fierce expressions, he looked younger. Softer. Small and harmless like a bunny, almost.

Anxin’s chest tightened. He reached up carefully and brushed his fingers lightly against Sangwon’s arm.

“Sangwon,” he whispered. There was no response from the sleepyhead.

He smiled faintly. Leaning a little closer, he lowered his voice even more. “Hyung… we’re home.”

Sangwon stirred this time, brow furrowing slightly. His fingers twitched against Anxin’s sleeve. Anxin gently nudged him again, thumb rubbing small circles over his forearm.
“You can sleep more if you want to” he murmured. “I'll wait.”

Sangwon’s eyes fluttered open, gaze unfocused and a faint flush crept up his neck when he realized where he’d been resting.
“…Did I fall asleep on you?” he asked, voice husky with drowsiness.

Anxin’s smile softened. “For a while.”
Sangwon straightened, embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Anxin said immediately. “I liked it.”

The van door slid open. Cool night air drifted in. Anxin stood first, then offered his hand.
Sangwon took it.

And as they stepped out together into the quiet dorm parking lot, exhaustion still clinging to them, Anxin kept close, walking slower so Sangwon wouldn’t have to rush. Then his hand slid gently to Sangwon’s waist.
Sangwon exhaled shakily at the contact.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re okay, you know” Anxin murmured softly. Sangwon huffed a weak laugh. “I wasn’t pretending.”
“You were,” Anxin said, thumb brushing lightly against his side as they walked. “You always do.”

They moved slowly toward the dorm rooms, the building finally quiet after days of chaos.
Sangwon leaned into him slightly.

He adjusted immediately, arm tightening around Sangwon’s waist to steady him.
“You worked so hard this week,” Anxin continued in a low voice, meant only for him. “I saw you practicing at 2 a.m. I saw you icing your knee and pretending it didn’t hurt.”

Sangwon’s throat tightened again.
“You don’t have to carry everything alone,” Anxin whispered.

They reached Sangwon’s door. Instead of letting go, Anxin turned him gently so they were facing each other.

“You did so well today,” he said, eyes steady. “I was lost in your performance the whole time.”
Sangwon’s lashes fluttered.

“You were crying,” Anxin added, voice softening into a teasing warmth. “But I liked that too.”

“Shut up,” Sangwon muttered weakly, though his lips trembled with a smile.

Anxin leaned closer, resting his forehead briefly against Sangwon’s.
“When I sang that last line,” he admitted quietly, “I hoped you’d hear it.”
Sangwon’s breath hitched. “I did.” Anxin’s thumb traced a small circle at his waist.

Sangwon finally let himself relax completely, hands gripping lightly at Anxin’s shirt.
“You’re unfair,” he murmured.
“Why?”
“You make it hard to stay strong.”
Anxin smiled softly.
“You don’t have to be strong with me.” Anxin adjusted the strap of his bag and added “Then.. I’ll go wash up. You should sleep early.”

Anxin turned back to leave. “S-stop.”

Anxin paused.

Sangwon was still standing at his doorway, fingers lightly gripping the hem of his sleeve. He wasn’t looking directly at Anxin. His ears were pink.

Anxin tilted his head. “Hm?”
Sangwon cleared his throat.
“…You don’t have to go back to your room.”
Anxin blinked.
“I mean” Sangwon rushed, then slowed, suddenly shy. “If you’re tired. Or… if you don’t want to.”
He finally glanced up.
“… That's not it. What I mean is.. You can sleep here.”

Anxin’s brain stopped working.
“You mean… sleep?” he repeated, voice a little too excited.
Sangwon’s blush deepened immediately. “ Just sleep. Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m not!” Anxin protested, already red himself.
The image of sharing a bed, of waking up next to Sangwon flashed uninvited in his mind. He swallowed.

“…I don’t really want to be alone tonight.”

Sangwon stepped aside to let him in, trying to look composed and failing spectacularly.
As the door closed behind them, Anxin set his bag down quietly.

“I’ll stay,” he added in a softer voice.

Sangwon’s shoulders relaxed at that.

Neither of them mentioned how aware they suddenly were of the small space.
But when they finally lay down ,side by side, a careful distance stayed between them, as if they haven't cuddled for days on this same bed. But that was fundamentally different. That was just cuddling together. Anxin had never shared his bed for the whole night with Sangwon.

But this careful distance didn’t feel awkward. If anything, it felt ridiculously sweet.

And after a few quiet minutes, Sangwon shifted just slightly closer. And suddenly an arm slid around Anxin’s waist and pulled him closer.

Anxin’s breath caught.

He found himself tucked against Sangwon’s chest, warmth surrounding him, the steady rise and fall of Sangwon’s breathing brushing against his back.

For a second, he forgot how to function.
His heart began pounding so loudly he was sure it was audible.

Thud.
Thud.
Thud.

He swallowed.
Sangwon tightened his hold slightly, burying his face near the back of Anxin’s neck, voice low and drowsy.
“Stay like this.”

A soft moan escaped Anxin's mouth as Sangwon's breath hit the sensitive spot on his neck. His fingers curled lightly into the fabric of Sangwon's shirt he was wearing. His ribcage felt too small for his heart.

He tried to steady his breathing and failed miserably.

“…Hyung,” he murmured softly.
Sangwon hummed in response.
Anxin shifted just enough to turn his head slightly, voice barely above a whisper.
“If you hold me so close… how am I supposed to fall asleep?”
There was no complaint in it. Only flustered honesty.
Sangwon let out a quiet huff of laughter against his shoulder.
“You were the one who agreed you’d stay.”

Anxin could feel Sangwon’s heartbeat too now . It was slower, calmer than his own.
And that only made his pulse race harder.

“You’re warm,” Sangwon added quietly, nuzzling his face to Anxin's neck.

That did not help. Anxin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself, but his heart refused to cooperate.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” he muttered shyly.
“Feel what?”
“My heart.”
Sangwon smiled into his shoulder.
“Yeah. It’s loud.”

Anxin groaned softly in embarrassment and hid his face in his hands.

But Sangwon only pulled him closer. “It’s okay,” he whispered, kissing his neck. “Let it be loud. I like it.”

Anxin shivered. ​

Chapter Text

Have you ever taken any spontaneous decision and regretted it for all 7 of your lives??? That was exactly Anxin's situation right now.

He was regretting agreeing to sleeping over in Sangwon's room.

The owner of the room spooned him, left a few kisses on his neck and drifted off to sleep. And as a result Anxin was wide awake, staring outside the window, wondering how to get out of this bed.

Cause the kisses had been small, barely more than a brush of warmth against his neck. Sangwon probably wanted to pamper him before going to bed. But to Anxin, it was like a spark dropped carelessly into dry woodland.

It started as nothing. Just a tingling point of heat where lips had touched skin. Then it spread. Slow, creeping, inevitable.

Like wildfire catching on brittle leaves, it traveled from that single place outward, licking along his spine, threading through his ribs, slipping into his bloodstream. The quiet dark of the room became a vast forest lit from within, embers glowing under bark, flames racing unseen beneath the canopy. What had begun as one soft kiss became a blaze he could feel everywhere. The all consuming warmth surging through him, bright and restless, until every breath felt like smoke and every heartbeat felt like the crackle of fire moving through trees that had never known they were so dry.

Anxin tried to remove the hand holding him firmly against Sangwon's chest. His fingers carefully nudged at Sangwon’s wrist.

One inch. Two inc-
He felt Sangwon stir behind him.

In his sleep, Sangwon frowned faintly and instinctively tightened his hold, pulling Anxin flush against him.

Anxin nearly squeaked. He hadn’t anticipated that at all.

He was getting desperate to escape. He needed to go to bathroom right now. It has been almost a week since he last relieved himself. And now his lover pressing against him wasn't helping his miserable situation at all.

But Anxin wasn't someone who gave up easily. So he tried again, shifting his hips slightly, hoping to roll away without waking him.

Big mistake. The movement only made Sangwon press closer, his body following automatically, seeking warmth without conscious thought.
Anxin went rigid. He could feel his ass pressing directly against Junior Sangwon.

His breath caught mid-inhale.
Why is he like this even in his sleep?
He could feel everything. The solid warmth behind him, the weight of Sangwon’s arm secure around his middle, the way there was suddenly absolutely no space between them.

His face burned.

To make things worse, Sangwon's hand now rested on his waistband.

Anxin tried to wiggle his own hand inside his pajama pants. Earlier he had borrowed Sangwon's clothes and Sangwon didn't give him any underwear. So the tent he had pitched inside the pajamas got quite obvious.

Anxin began moving his hand slowly, careful not to make any noise.

Nahh these slow strokes weren't enough. He needed more. Anxin unknowingly squirmed increasing his pace gently. His ass grinding against Sangwon.

"Ah" a small moan escaped Anxin's mouth and he stilled immediately. After taking a few quick breaths, he pulled his shirt up somehow freeing it from Sangwon's arm and bit it to shut himself up. He absolutely can't make any sound.

Precum was leaking from his tip making a wet spot on his pajama. A small sheen of sweat formed on his forehead. Out of desperate need to release, Anxin started stroking himself even faster. A wet kiss landed on his neck. Anxin gasped audibly.

Sangwon's hand that was resting on his tummy was now invading inside his pants holding Anxin's hand that has now stopped moving.

"What are you doing, mmm?" Sangwon's raspy voice sounded right next to his ear followed by a wet lick on the shell of his ear.

"Ahh.... Hyung" Anxin's almost let out a mewl.

Sangwon slid his other arm under Anxin's head, extending to the bedside lamp and lit it on.

Anxin was mortified. He quickly hid his face under the blanket feeling Sangwon's hand sliding over Anxin's hand and grab his balls gently. Anxin's hips bucked up uncontrollably.

"Hah.. hah.." Anxin was panting, the shirt escaping from between his teeth.

"Don't hide from me, baby." Sangwon cooed, kissing his temple.

"Were you having fun without me?" Sangwon's teasing voice sounded again.

Sangwon's hand slid upwards from inside Anxin's pants to under his shirt.

"You are shaking" Sangwon whispered.

Sangwon's hand found it's destination and rolled the delicate pointed tip with his fingers.

"Hyung..." Anxin moaned.

"Shhh.." Sangwon prodded up a bit on his elbow and pressed a kiss on Anxin's flushed cheek, "the walls are thin, baby."

"Hyung.... Ahhhh" Anxin called again turning his face back towards Sangwon followed by a moan. Sangwon smiled cheekily, "Your nipples are so sensitive" he smiled and pulled on it again.

Anxin had finally lost it. He lifted his head a bit and captured Sangwon's lips into a soft wet kiss.

Sangwon's hand supported the back of Anxin's head, Anxin's tongue entangled against his.

"Hyung.. help me" He begged miserably stroking himself as fast as he could.

Sangwon was waiting for it. He ripped himself and Anxin out of the blanket.

"Open up" he demanded, watching with fire burning in his eyes as Anxin spread his legs obediently.

He held Anxin's waistband and Anxin lifted his waist up eagerly practically drooling at the view infront of him. Sangwon was between his legs now throwing the pajama pant away like a useless piece of clothing.

Sangwon laid on his stomach between Anxin's bent up knees and took him in his mouth.

Anxin has fantasized quiet a few time how it would feel to get a blowjob. But nothing, NOTHING, could have prepared him for this incredible warm and wet feeling around his dick. His back arched up as Sangwon's tongue flicked against the tip of his dick licking away his precum.

"Cute" Sangwon spoke with his mouth full sending a jolt of pleasure along his length.

Mmmmhhh.. Anxin squirmed, his hand automatically gripping onto Sangwon's hair pressing him further down his cock.

"You tashte shalty" Sangwon spoke again.

"Ahhh hyung stop talking with me in your mouth" Anxin said frustratedly.

Sangwon let his dick out with a pop and held it with his hand.

"You are cute even down here" Sangwon said licking his entire length from base to tip and then licking his own lips.

"Fat and pink" he said before diving back in.

Anxin was holding onto the last threads of his sanity that was instantly lost when his tip hit the back of Sangwon's throat. His boyfriend didn't have gag reflex. The realisation shook him to the core.

Sangwon was now bobbing his head up and down. The heat pooled near the base of his shaft, threatening to explode any moment.

Anxin desperately tried to push Sangwon away, words refusing to escape his mouth.

Sangwon confusedly looked up, letting Anxin's cock out of mouth and within a second ropes of hot semen splattered across Anxin's tummy. Anxin's whole body spasmed violently from the peak pleasure.

Sangwon let out a disappointed sound. "Why did you push me away?" He grumbled. "I worked so hard for nothing."

Anxin's face flushed redder as Sangwon licked his tummy clean. "Hyung.. it's dirty." Anxin whimpered.

"You taste so good, Anxinie" Sangwon said looking up at Anxin, licking the last drop off his navel.