Chapter Text
Jasper Boyfriends – Chaos Corner
Phuwin: “Pond texted, I miss you. three times in a row.”
Phuwin: “That’s Pond code for ‘I might cry in catering.”
Dunk: “Joong posted a thirst trap and then deleted it in 5 minutes.”
Dunk: “He’s spiraling.”
Boom: “Aou said the hotel beds are too big without me.”
Boom: “He sent a photo. It was just a pillow with a frown drawn on it.”
Perth: “Santa said he’s sleeping in my hoodie every night.”
Perth: “Except it’s 30 degrees there and he’s sweating through it. But he refuses to take it off.”
Boom: “...We have to go, don’t we.”
Dunk: “Yes.”
Phuwin:“Obviously.”
Perth: “Are we really planning a stealth boyfriend operation?”
Boom: “Absolutely. Operation: Love Drop.”
------
That weekend, they gathered again. This time with maps, notebooks, a laptop, and matching determination.
Perth scrolled through flight options. “If we hit the Seoul leg, we can land during their rest day.”
Dunk had printed the entire tour schedule. Color-coded. “They’re in Taipei first. Two shows. If we wait until Tokyo or Shanghai we can hit them on the hotel day between promo shoots.”
Phuwin, ever the realist, raised an eyebrow. “How are we even getting in? You think staff are just gonna let four suspiciously attractive men hover near the dressing rooms?”
Boom smiled serenely. “That’s why I’ve been talking to P’Jack.”
Everyone turned.
“You what?”
Boom held up his phone. “I said we’re not crashing anything. We’re moral support. Strategic morale reinforcements.”
Dunk blinked. “And he said...?”
Boom shrugged. “He said ‘Don’t tell P’Tha.’ Which is basically a yes.”
Perth grinned. “We need a name. Like a real op name.”
Phuwin: “‘Operation: Emotional Support Boyfriends.’”
Dunk: “Or... ‘Project Cuddle Bomb.’”
Boom: “What about ‘Just Visiting My Famous Fiancé Who Happens to Be on a World Tour, Totally Normal’?”
Perth: “Short and subtle.”
Later that night, four tickets were booked. One giant hotel group chat was muted. And Operation Love Drop was officially underway.
------
Meanwhile, in JASP.ER’s group chat:
Joong: “I had a dream Dunk showed up with my favorite drink and kissed me backstage.”
Joong:“I woke up and the drink was gone. Rude.”
Pond: “Phuwin just sent me a GIF of a cat in a suitcase.”
Pond:“What does it mean??”
Aou: “Boom asked, how do you feel about surprises...Should I be nervous?”
Santa: “I think... I think Perth is planning something.”
Santa:“He asked what our hotel room number was. For a hypothetical postcard.”
Joong: “They’re up to something.”
Aou: “...I hope they are.”
------
Shanghai – Day 15 of the JASP.ER Tour
The air felt hopeful.
Stupidly hopeful.
Joong had woken up early and vacuumed his side of the hotel room with the tiny handheld cleaner they were given on day one. “Just in case,” he said, pretending he didn’t immediately check the hallway afterward.
Pond chose his nicest outfit. Not stage-nice. No, Phuwin-nice. The one with the clean lines and soft sleeves that made his shoulders look broader. “Coincidence,” he mumbled, even though he kept rechecking the fit in the mirror.
Santa ran his fingers through his hair a dozen times, then gave up and styled it with the one product he and Perth used to argue over. Aou put on cologne. Actual cologne. Boom will probably never smell this, he thought. But I will.
There was no confirmation.
No hints.
No mysterious extra names on the travel itinerary. No suspicious voice notes saying “I’ll see you soon.”
But love was a dangerous thing.
It made you believe.
They hung around the lobby for too long.
“Just getting air.”
“Just waiting for our car.”
“Just... existing. Hopefully.”
Nothing.
By 3PM, Aou was lying sideways on the hotel lobby couch, watching the automatic doors open and close like they were mocking him.
“They’re not here,” Santa said, flopping onto the seat beside him.
“Nope” Aou replied, not even pretending anymore.
Joong had scrolled Instagram so far back he was in 2021. Nothing new. No surprise location tags. No sneak-peek selfies. Just a random meme Dunk sent him two hours ago:
A lonely penguin staring dramatically at the sea. Captioned: “Miss u but international borders.”
Joong had laughed. Now it felt like foreshadowing.
Pond had stopped checking his phone altogether. “Phuwin sent me a voice note,” he said quietly. “Said he hopes I sleep well tonight.” He paused. “He never says stuff like that unless he’s about to do something evil.”
“He’s emotionally soft-launching heartbreak,” Santa said, rubbing his face.
Aou leaned back and sighed. “I wore pants with a waistband for this.”
------
The group was sluggish. Even the managers noticed.
P’Ying clapped her hands like they were toddlers. “Dinner. Outside. Proper meal. Table’s booked, everything’s paid. Get in the van, sad boys.”
Joong perked up a little. “P’Jack said it was a special reservation…”
Santa’s eyes lit up. “Wait. Special special? Like…special?”
Pond sat up straighter. “Are we going somewhere with mood lighting? Wait. Wait- is this a cover story? Are they! Are they gonna be-?”
“No spoilers,” P’Ying said sweetly. “Just eat. Please. For our sanity.”
They arrived at a tucked-away restaurant on a quiet Shanghai street, just far enough from the city buzz to feel secret.
The table was private. Lanterns overhead, warm wood, little soy sauce dishes that clinked when set down. It should have felt magical.
But Joong was poking at his udon like it had personally wronged him.
Pond had gone completely quiet.
Aou swirled his miso with a long sigh. “I hate how much I thought this was going to be a setup.”
Santa didn’t even look up from his sashimi. “I rehearsed a dramatic speech in case Perth walked in.”
“What was it?” Joong asked.
“I was gonna say ‘You came back from the war.’”
“That’s unhinged,” Pond muttered.
“I’m unwell,” Santa replied.
Joong exhaled and dropped his chopsticks. “Let’s just admit it. We played ourselves.”
Aou raised his glass in a mock toast. “To long-distance suffering.”
They clinked solemnly.
Then…
“Excuse me-”
The voice. Familiar. Too familiar.
Joong’s head snapped up so fast his neck cracked.
Four silhouettes stood at the end of the table.
Real. Tangible. Glowing like a daydream and dressed like they didn’t just sprint from a taxi.
Dunk. Phuwin. Boom. Perth.
Joong made a noise that could only be described as baby bird squeak.
Pond clapped both hands over his mouth. Santa’s mouth fell open. Aou blinked. Once. Twice. Again.
Dunk smiled like sunshine. “Hi.”
Boom gave the softest wave. “Surprise.”
“You’re not real,” Joong whispered.
Perth held up his phone. “We’ve been circling the block for ten minutes waiting for the signal.”
“I WORE NICE CLOTHES,” Pond wailed, launching himself at Phuwin so hard the man had to brace against the table. “I knew it.”
Phuwin kissed him on the cheek like it was routine. “You look good,” he said. “Still not getting my shampoo.”
Pond cried harder.
Santa, frozen, finally moved. “How are you here? You said the passport office was closed!”
“I lied,” Perth said, flopping into the seat next to him and pulling him in for a hug. “It was emotionally necessary.”
Joong, speechless, climbed into Dunk’s lap in the middle of the restaurant.
“I told you I’d make it,” Dunk murmured into his ear. “You never believed me.”
Joong thumped his chest once. “You sent a penguin meme.”
“I panicked.”
Aou reached for Boom like he was half-afraid to touch him.
Boom wrapped both arms around him without a word.
“You flew international for me,” Aou whispered.
Boom nodded. “You’re worth customs.”
P’Jack peeked in from the doorway with P’Ying.
“Ten minutes,” P’Jack whispered. “They barely made it ten minutes before getting emo.”
“I told you it would work,” P’Ying grinned, eyes shiny.
Later, the rest of the plates were brought out. The drinks were served.
The booth was full. Bodies tangled, heads on shoulders, hands linked under the table.
Joong looked up. “You didn’t have to come all this way.”
Dunk smiled into his hair. “Yeah, we did.”
No one argued.
------
The table was a blur of dishes. Grilled mackerel, dim sum and bubbling hotpot in the middle that no one really knew how to manage but kept poking at anyway. Perth made the mistake of dropping a shrimp tail in it and then panicked so hard he knocked over Santa’s water. Santa just laughed, pushed the glass aside, and pulled him in by the collar to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Mess.”
P’Jack tried to rescue the shrimp with chopsticks, muttering, “You’re all worse than trainees.”
“I’m trying my best!” Perth cried.
Phuwin fed Pond a dumpling with the kind of practiced ease that came from doing it too often. Pond opened his mouth obediently and chewed with a blissful sigh. “This is better than any concert.”
“Okay, don’t say that,” Aou said from across the table. “They’ll make us rehearse more.”
Boom reached over to brush rice off Aou’s cheek with his thumb, then wiped it on his own napkin like it was the most natural thing in the world. Aou turned pink.
Meanwhile, Joong and Dunk had curled into the corner like cats in a sunbeam, sharing noodles neither had any intention of finishing. Dunk fed Joong a noodle. Joong slurped it obnoxiously.
P’Ying took a sip of her drink and side-eyed P’Jack. “We should’ve brought a book.”
“They don’t even know we’re here anymore,” he muttered, pushing pickled radish around with a skewer.
“Honestly?” she smiled. “I don’t mind. They earned this.”
Around them, the conversation rose and fell in waves. Soft laughter, a few teasing jabs, the occasional shriek of “YOU ATE MY LAST DUMPLING.” It felt like a real exhale. Like the first time in weeks, they weren’t holding their hearts too tightly.
Eventually, Perth leaned against Santa’s shoulder and yawned. “We’ve been up since 3AM. My brain is soup.”
“We should go,” Santa murmured, rubbing a hand up and down his back.
“Soft boy hour begins,” Joong teased.
“You say that like you haven’t been sitting in Dunk’s lap for twenty minutes,” Perth shot back.
Dunk grinned. “He is my carry-on.”
They got up with quiet goodbyes and too-long hugs. Santa promised to text the group when they got back to the hotel. Perth blew a kiss over his shoulder. “Tell the hotpot I’m sorry.”
A little while later, Boom and Aou slipped out too. Boom had a guitar back in the room he wanted Aou to hear. Aou left his chopsticks on the table and took Boom’s hand under it instead.
That left Joong, Dunk, Pond, and Phuwin. And the managers, still at the edge of the booth.
“Should we leave?” Phuwin asked quietly.
Pond grabbed his sleeve. “You better not. You haven’t even tried the ice cream yet.”
“Wow,” P’Jack said, stretching his back. “Really feels like being single at a wedding.”
“Worse,” P’Ying added, sipping her tea. “They know they’re being annoying… and they don’t care.”
Dunk looked up. “We care!”
Joong, resting on his shoulder: “We just don’t care enough to stop.”
They all laughed.
And when the dessert arrived. Three flavors, one spoon- they shared it like there was no world outside the booth.
The city glowed beyond the paper-paneled windows. Buses passed. Neon flickered.
Inside, it felt like a secret.
Like time paused just long enough for love to feel easy again.
And later, when they all drifted into cabs or taxis or hotel elevators, that warmth didn’t leave.
It stayed tucked behind every smile. Every glance. Every hand, held too long.
And when the door to the restaurant finally shut behind the last of them-
It felt like the kind of goodbye that knew
they’d be saying hello again soon.
------
The next morning in Shanghai, the hotel was a quiet haven amid the city’s pulse. Four rooms, four little sanctuaries where the boyfriends and JASP.ER had finally reunited after weeks apart. The scent of morning coffee mixed with the faint traces of last night’s laughter and whispered “I miss you”s.
Joong and Dunk lay tangled under the crisp white sheets, fingers intertwined, sharing sleepy smiles and soft “good mornings.” Dunk’s hair was a mess, but Joong kissed his forehead anyway.
In the next room, Pond and Phuwin sat by the window, watching the city stir awake. Phuwin draped a cozy blanket over Pond’s shoulders, his hand never leaving Pond’s. They exchanged shy smiles, the kind that said “I’m here” without a single word.
Perth and Santa were already dressed, Santa fussing with Perth’s jacket while Perth laughed, pretending to resist but clearly loving every second. “You’re impossible,” Santa teased, but his eyes sparkled.
In the last room, Aou and Boom sprawled on the floor, a tangle of limbs and soft laughter. Boom strummed a few chords on his guitar, singing low and sweet, while Aou rested his head against Boom’s shoulder, soaking in the moment.
Soon, the rooms emptied and the group gathered in the hotel’s cozy breakfast lounge. JASP.ER and their boyfriends clustered around a big table, sharing dim sum, coffee, and easy conversation. P’Ying and P’Jack hovered nearby, third-wheeling with amused smiles but careful not to interrupt the warmth.
Some of the boys left early, feeling the tug of nerves before the big night, while others stayed, savoring the last few moments of calm.
That evening, backstage at the concert, the air was electric. Lights flickered, instruments hummed, and the crowd’s roar echoed through the walls like thunder.
JASP.ER huddled for a moment, hands joined, hearts synced.
Joong stepped forward to the mic, his voice steady and glowing with affection.
“We’ve got four very special guests joining us tonight,” he said, eyes flicking to the wings.
Their boyfriends stood there, each beaming with pride and love, waving shyly to the crowd that couldn’t see them but could feel their presence.
The spotlight hit, the music soared, and the night sparkled brighter than ever. Because love wasn’t just in the room. It was in every beat, every note, every breath.