Archive of Our Own

The first thing you'll notice about Keita is that he's confident. What's the point of doing something if you don't at least act like you're going to succeed? His confidence isn't unfounded, either. He came to Boys Planet knowing he could do well. He's doing well.

Keita is confident in his sexuality, too. Was. He's never questioned it before. He's never had to. He's attracted to women. He's even been in love before, definitely with a woman. It had never crossed his mind that questioning his sexuality would be something someone like him ever did.

Until...

Well.

The thing about Boys Planet is that even though it's a competition, everyone's friends. Everyone is supportive. Everyone wants everyone else to do well - even if they don't want it at their own expense. And there are some trainees that everyone knows and everyone loves. Keita has Toyonaga-Takutoed too many times to count at this point. He has accidentally adopted Ollie. And he knows Cha Woonggi.

Even if he hasn't interacted personally with Cha Woonggi, he knows him.

So when he's chosen to compete against him in the dance battle, he knows what sort of energy Woonggi's going to bring and even though he's a little nervous at having to match that, he goes in cofindently anyway, because above all he's a good dancer and he's had practice coming up with choreo on the fly, and he's not intimidated.

He's not. Even as Woonggi starts his piece, shaking his ass and crawling through Keita’s legs, looking up at him with those overly showy seductive eyes. Even as Woonggi finishes and Keita has his turn, knowing he can’t win. He puts on a show anyway, a little out of his comfort zone but still fun. He’s not intimidated by Cha Woonggi. He doesn’t really think about him at all.

Throughout the rest of the day, though, he thinks about the battle. As is the nature of freestyling he comes up with better, flashier moves once it’s over. He thinks about Woonggi’s slut-drop-bounce thing on LipJ and thinks, I could have done something like that too. Maybe not a full drop. But something more Keita-esque, maybe.

He thinks about the dance while he eats dinner. He’s so in his head he accidentally dips a piece of meat in his cup of water instead of the sauce. Haruto, who’s sat at the same table as him, snorts but thankfully doesn’t comment, probably too tired. Keita chalks his overthinking up to exhaustion too.

Really, there are probably loads of G-trainees who could have matched Woonggi’s energy better, he thinks as he eyes Haruto across the table. He’s not really sure why he was chosen. He’s not insecure about it, though. He knew going into it that Woonggi has everyone on the show, judges included, wrapped around his pinky finger, knew he wasn’t going to beat that. So he put it aside, did his best and enjoyed himself. End of.

He doesn’t realise something is wrong until he gets to bed. He’s already done his routine, slapped on his skincare, got under the covers and done the progressive muscle relaxation that his Ciipher bandmates used to tease him for. He is exhausted, truly.

But he can’t sleep.

His mind is still working overdrive, going over the dance battle again and again. How he danced, yeah, but mostly how Woonggi danced. How he commanded the whole makeshift stage, the whole room. Keita’s not insecure. He’s not intimidated. He’s never overthought a performance this much before. It wasn’t even a performance. It was just fun. Woonggi having fun.

Because Keita’s not thinking so much about the dance. He doesn’t know why but he’s thinking about the look on Woonggi’s face. About the way he moved. About his eyes, as he crawled backwards on the floor. Keita’s not jealous of Woonggi being able to do that. He’s not sure. He doesn’t know.

He kind of wishes he could talk to Woonggi about it. He wants Woonggi to tell him that it was just a play, a show for the cameras. For some reason it feels like that would make it better. Easier. Okay. He doesn’t think at all about the alternative.

Keita doesn’t get much sleep that night, or at all over the next few days. People comment, concerned, on the dark circles under his eyes, but he tells them he’s just stressed about the eliminations. Everyone else is too, so it’s a good cover, even if they all know Keita’s not going anywhere yet.

Sure enough, eliminations come and go. Woonggi doesn’t speak to him, and they’re still on different teams so they won’t be forced to interact though practice. Keita’s not sure if the Keita of before the dance battle would have been disappointed by that. He’s not sure he would have noticed at all.

See, the thing is, a few days is long enough for Keita, introverted as he is, to do a lot of thinking. He thought about Woonggi dancing, about just Woonggi himself, enough that he started thinking about what it means. Keita is not stupid. He’d say he has quite a fair level of emotional intelligence. He’s reached a few possible conclusions. One conclusion, mainly.

Cha Woonggi is attractive. Keita may be straight - have thought he was straight - but he has eyes. Hell, everyone here is attractive enough to be an idol trainee. Woonggi is attractive enough to have already debuted once. He’s seen attractive men before. Acknowledged that men are attractive.

And maybe it’s just the overly open, loud-and-proud vibes that so many queer contestants have brought to the show that has him thinking about it. Maybe it’s even that there are, like, three women here, all of them older and only there to judge him professionally on his entertainment skills, and that he doesn’t really know know anyone here even if they’re all friendly, and that he’s probably a little lonely.

Woonggi is not attractive in the way Keita knows men are attractive. Woonggi is attractive in the way that Keita is attracted to him.

Keita wants him.

Keita wants- well.

He’d thought - hoped, foolishly - that realising why he was thinking so much about Woonggi might have helped calm his mind down. Instead, it’s only made things worse.

Because now he’s acknowledged things - maybe, slightly - Keita thinks about Woonggi, about being around Woonggi, all the damn time.

Woonggi is hardly a quiet presence in the Boys Planet camp. He never was, but Keita notices him way more now. Woonggi running the corridors of the dormitory with Seowon. Woonggi laughing unabashedly at his table in the cafeteria. Woonggi’s not even in the room, but someone’s telling a story that involves him and to Keita, Woonggi’s name just sounds so much louder. He fills the room. He fills Keita’s mind. Non stop.

Most of all, Keita wants to be a part of Woonggi’s circle. He wants to be friends. He wants to be friends who are attracted to each other and then no longer friends: more than friends. He doesn’t think he’s come to terms with it at all, but he wants it more than he’s wanted anything in years.

Most of all, Woonggi - or the lack of Woonggi in Keita’s life - makes him feel lonely.

It gets to him. For the first time since the show started, he feels completely drowned in all the things he’s not on top of. His Zoom team mates notice, but none of them feel quite comfortable with bringing it up. To everyone, Keita included, Keita not feeling confident is like waking up and seeing that the sky is green. It’s uncomfortable. Wrong.

Keita’s still holding it together enough to compartmentalise when needed, though, just about. He makes it through practices, leads his team well, writes his rap and choreographs the dance break. It’s good. When he’s doing something he knows off by heart like this, he’s okay.

It’s in the spaces between practice that he comes apart. In the breaks, the mealtimes, the mornings and evenings and at night, where he’s finally exhausted enough to dream about Woonggi instead of thinking about him consciously. Keita’s not one to not cry, but sharing a room with two others and sharing a campus with fifty-odd others doesn’t leave him with enough privacy to really let his guard down like that. He needs a break, but now more than ever he can’t seem to catch one.

Eventually, Wumuti comes to him. It’s late afternoon on a Thursday, at the end of a long and intense training session, and when the rest of the Zoom and Gang team rush out to be first in line for food, Wumuti stays behind.

”Keita,” he says quietly as Ollie finishes packing his things away, letting Keita know he wants to talk.

They wait until Ollie has left and the door has shut fully. Wumuti comes and sits next to Keita against the wall.

”Are you okay?” he asks. “You’ve seemed a little off recently.”

Keita wants to open up - he knows he’d feel better about everything if he talked to someone about it, and Wumuti would definitely not be his last choice of confidante. But he’s so far in his head that the idea of talking about his issues straight off the bat feels impossible, so he says, “Um. Practice is hard, I guess.”

Wumuti gives him a look - not unkind, but also calling bullshit. “Practice is going well. Really well. You’ve led us superbly and the crowds are going to love us, so don’t feel bad about that.” He shuffles a little closer, puts a hand on Keita’s arm. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Keita admires Wumuti a lot. He’s got a great character both on and off camera, a fun and warm presence. He’s older, which Keita guesses helps in making him feel safe. He also doesn’t keep a secret of the fact he’s gay. Before, Keita had never noticed how different life is with no openly queer people around. After coming on the show, he thinks it will probably feel weird going back to being surrounded only by straight people.

Keita tries again. “I’m- tired.”

Wumuti nudges him, encouragingly. The silence stretches like elastic between them. Wumuti doesn’t push. Keita just wants to let go.

“Wumuti,” he says. Then: “How did you know you were gay?”

It comes out sort of choked, held back by the lump that has been in the back of Keita’s throat for days, but still audible, still caught by Wumuti, who squeezes his arm lightly then slides his hand down to hold onto Keita’s.

”Hmm, I was fifteen,” Wumuti says lightly. “He was older and toxic and very, very attractive. He asked me to kiss him and I did, and then he never talked to me again and I was left to find my own gay way in the world. It was a mess, for sure.” He chuckles a little. “I think everyone is a mess in the beginning, though.”

Keita still can’t bring himself to look at Wumuti. “I don’t know…” He doesn’t know how to say what he needs to say. He doesn’t know why he’s like this, or why it’s taken him so long, or what is going on at all, actually.

Wumuti hums.

Keita opens his mouth thinking he won’t be able to make a sound, but suddenly it all comes out like too much alcohol on an empty stomach.

”So, like, I’ve never had gay friends, right? I never knew that it was even a noticeable thing until I came here. I never thought about it. I was like everyone else - there was no reason for me to ever ask questions, so it never crossed my mind that I could - that I should, you know? And I don’t know if this makes me close-minded to say this so I’m really sorry that you’re the one to hear it if-“ he takes a deep breath. “I never knew. I heard about it, on TV and stuff, but that was that and I was me, just different, just because. I just knew I was not that. Not the- the idea of it. In my head.”

None of the things he’s saying make sense, but Wumuti seems to be following along okay and Keita’s on a roll.

”But now I’m here and everyone is gay. Not everyone, but you know. There’s so much openness and I just can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like… Here it feels normal that you’re attracted to men, and the normal I was following just because everyone else was too is not the norm at all. And I know that’s not enough reason to just say that my whole life has been a lie, but also the fact that it’s making me think so much makes me think that it does mean- you know.” He shrugs. “I don’t know.” It’s not everything he wants to say - he hasn’t even touched on Woonggi, hasn’t really made it real or personal to him yet, but those words seem too far down to reach right now.

Wumuti waits until he’s sure Keita has finished before saying, “Damn, this is really bad timing for you, isn’t it? What with the whole, survival competition going on as well.”

Keita huffs out what is meant to be a laugh, but he’s too raw to own it.

Wumuti continues, “Now, this is not exactly what I think or anything, but I’m just going to put it out there in case you have or haven’t thought about it. This doesn’t have to mean anything, you know? A lot more people than you think go through sexuality crises and come out on the other end all the surer that they’re straight. Sometimes it takes a while to understand but there is a difference between appreciating or acknowledging a certain gender looks good and wanting to date them or fall in love. And as much as you thinking about it could mean that you’re gay, or bisexual, or attracted to men or whatever you want to call it right now - it’s okay if it’s just the change in atmosphere making you think about sexuality, as a concept, more than you’re prepared for.”

As much as everything Wumuti says hits the right spot and makes Keita feel better, he still feels like he’s lying. Like it would be a lie to not admit that what he’s already said is not everything on his mind.

”That’s not all,” Keita says. “I think -“ he feels like he needs to soften the blow for himself - “there’s- there might be someone in particular?”

”Ah,” Wumuti says. “Hey, look at me?”

Keita looks up at Wumuti next to him. Wumuti holds out his arms for a hug. “Come here.”

Keita does. He lets out all the exhaustion that has built up in him over the past weeks - months, really - and falls into Wumuti’s embrace.

They stay like that for a while, saying nothing and soaking in everything that’s been said already. It feels nice. Keita really has been lonely.

Wumuti waits for Keita to shift out of his hold before patting him on the head and speaking.

”I’m not sure I give all that great dating advice, I’m afraid,” he says. “In case that’s what you came to me for.”

”Actually,” Keita says, “you cornered me and forced me to reveal my deepest secrets.” He punches Wumuti lightly on the arm. “For real, though, I needed this. Thank you for listening.”

Wumuti smiles - genuinely - at him. “I’m proud of you, you know? I’m not sure how you’ve managed to do half as well in practice as you have with all this going on.” He quietens down a bit. “If I can do anything else to help you, just come to me, yeah?”

Keita smiles back. “I think I’d just like some time to get used to things before I do anything bold,” he says.

”Good idea,” Wumuti says. “Hey, what do you say to coming to your first pseudo-gay party tomorrow night? A few of us are getting together with some soju in Kuanjui’s dorm if you want to join. I heard they even might be smuggling Winnie back in.” He pauses. “It’s not actually, like, exclusive LGBTQ by the way. Just that most of us are queer and we kind of gravitated together as a friendship group.”

Keita needs to unwind a little. He could do with a beer or two right now. “Sure,” he says. “If you don’t mind. I don’t think I want to tell everyone just yet, though?”

Wumuti’s eyes widen. “I’m not going to out you or anything!” Leaning forward, he says, “You can choose a label if and when you find one you like, and you can tell or not tell people whenever you’re comfortable. Until then, just exist, okay?”

”Yeah, okay,” Keita says, He feels light with everything he’s admitted. He realises he’s been grinning for a while.

”Great!” Wumuti stands, holding his hand out to pull Keita up. “Are you good to go now? I’m starved.”

Glancing at the clock, Keita realises that they’ve almost missed dinner. He hops up. “Food,” is all he says, before they both pick up their bags and leg it to the cafeteria.

Fate (at least he hopes it’s fate and not gossip) seems to be on Keita’s side because the very next day, Ollie invites Planet Camp’s two resident mood makers to eat breakfast with them, claiming that “My hyungs don’t know how to have a good time.”

In Keita’s defence, who has energy at 8 o’clock in the morning? Certainly not Haruto, who between the hours of 10pm and 10am is dead to the world. It seems to work for him, though, because throughout the rest of the day he’s usually pretty much non-stop with more energy than everyone else in the room put together.

Keita feels far better this morning than he has recently, but he’s missing his coffee (no substances of any sort on campus, except the alcohol that at least five separate people smuggle in every week). He yawns and nods to Woonggi and Seowon, but doesn’t properly register their presence yet, instead staring unwaveringly at his food.

Seowon, like Ollie, seems to be very much a morning person, greeting everyone who passes his seat loudly and cheerfully. Woonggi isn’t quite as awake as his friend, but he still strikes up a conversation almost as soon as he sits down.

“I feel like I haven’t really interacted with you guys at all yet,” he says, mouth full of food in a way that’s actually kind of endearing. “How’s Zoom practice coming along?”

Haruto grunts in what is possibly meant to be a response.

Woonggi looks over at Keita, raising an eyebrow and sharing a look that says not a morning person, huh? Keita was going to respond, but his eyes get stuck on how Woonggi’s hair looks fluffy and slept on at this time of day, and he forgets to speak at all.

Woonggi, thankfully for Keita’s pride, laughs it off and says to the table as a whole, “Are you guys always zombies in the morning?”

”This is what I was talking about!” Ollie says. “Conversation runs dry pretty fast when it’s just between you and yourself.” He doesn’t mention that he could always sit at a table with his other friends - like Park Hanbin, whose morning routine is just as insane and regimented as his training methods; or Zhanghao and the Yuehuaz, although Keita can’t see them yet and he doesn’t think they’re morning people either.

Woonggi grins. “Lucky that we’re here to save the day, then!” He does this Team-Rocket-esque hand shake with Seowon. It’s cringy, Keita knows it’s cringy. But he also has a stupid crush and every thought he has just seems to affirm it further. Woonggi’s cute. He can’t escape.

Woonggi, Ollie and Seowon start to talk between themselves about the Love Killa team, or something, and Keita takes the opportunity to finally take a bite out of his food. The warmth and the repetitive motions of chewing eventually wake him up enough that he’s able to listen into the conversation.

”Yeah,” Woonggi’s saying to Ollie, now on the topic of his own team, “The producers wanted us to start beef in the Feel Special team, and honestly me and Shuaibo are both kind of bitchy anyway so we thought it would be fun.”

”Wait,” Keita says, swallowing his mouthful. “They asked you to start drama on purpose?”

”Keita's finally returned to the land of the living!” Seowon cheers, grinning and waving around chopsticks that still have a bit of noodle stuck to them.

Woonggi turns to face Keita fully. “It took almost no convincing on Shuaibo’s part, I think drama’s his middle name.” He pauses. “Although, my Chinese isn’t that good. I might have accidentally asked him to sell me a chicken.”

”Well, he agreed to it.” Keita says.

”Yep!” Woonggi smiles. “Who knows, in a week’s time I might be one chicken richer!”

Keita grins back. This is easy, he thinks. I could get used to this.

“Hey, are you guys doing anything tonight?” Seowon asks. “Me and Woonggi have a free evening, maybe you’d like to hang out?”

Keita freezes. “Ah,” he says, “I actually already said I’d hang out with some others in Kuanjui’s dorm.”

A part of him - a large part of him, if he’s being honest - thinks, now’s the chance. He could invite Woonggi along. He could spend the evening talking and getting drunk with him, he could get to know him more, he could drunkenly confess that he’s been thinking about Woonggi and then Woonggi could drunkenly reply that he’s been thinking too, and-

In the end, he chickens out.

”Maybe next time, then?” Seowon says cheerfully, unaware of Keita’s inner thoughts.

Keita nods. “Yeah.” He swallows. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

After that, they finish their food in amicable silence and go their own ways. Woonggi nods goodbye with a, “See you around,” and Seowon wishes them good luck with their practice.

Haruto is awake enough now that Keita doesn’t have to pick him up and drag him (it’s happened more than once) so together with Ollie they clear their trays and set off for their practice room, on the way picking up Wumuti from where he was sat with Honghai and Cong, and Hyunbeen from where he’d been loitering with his friends outside the toilets.

Practice flies by. Keita’s team already have the song and dance completely sorted out, so it’s just a case of practicing until they’re perfect. They mostly have fun with it, performing in front of the Gang team with mock sincerity, even coming up with their own fanchants for both songs. At one point, they stop and have a girl group dance battle, which Haruto aces and no one else even comes close to winning. It’s fun. Keita feels more alive than he’s felt in ages.

He keeps hoping to accidentally bump into Woonggi (or Seowon, who could relay messages to Woonggi) during the day to invite him to the party later. It’s unlikely they’d come to the practice room, but the chance of happening across either of them during lunch or bathroom breaks should be quite high, right? He doesn’t see either of them at all, though - he missed his chance when he had it. He shouldn’t be so hung up on this.

Sooner than he expects, the day comes to a close, and Keita retreats to his room to shower and change into something slightly more presentable than his sweaty tracksuit bottoms and old t-shirt. He didn’t exactly pack a suitcase full of club gear, but by the time he’s finished he thinks he looks at least okay. He takes a deep breath, then heads off.

When he gets to Kuanjui’s room, there are already fifteen or so people there. Keita’s not sure how they all fit - there are people standing on beds, standing around beds, sitting on the windowsill which isn’t really wide enough to fit a person. Keita nods at Wumuti, grabs a drink, and sits in the corner, warming himself up to the socialisation.

He counts the people who come through the door and pretends he’s not hoping that the next person who walks in might be Woonggi.

Parties at Planet Camp are something to behold. People pack tightly into dimmed rooms that are far too small to hold them. Music blasts louder than ever, knowing that there are no neighbours to offend.

The people are loud, too. Everyone there lives and loves performing, and everyone is confident enough sober to think they have at least a slight chance of being famous. The only difference the alcohol makes is that Seungeon’s voice cracks horrifically at the high note in his rendition of Itzy’s Boys Like You, and everyone laughs it off instead of cringing.

They do makeshift karaoke and try their best to dance wildly. When it comes to proposing rap battles, Keita is the only experienced rapper there and wins by a landslide, despite the fact that he rhymes “start” with “kickstart” and rips at least a third of the lyrics from his rap in Fame. People laugh that off, too, and then someone yells, “Baby 나도!” and launches a rowdy, 20-person cover of I Like You that spans three bedrooms, the corridor and a bathroom and somehow lasts over seven minutes. Keita raps his verse with an empty bottle for a mic and is a little too tipsy to be properly embarrassed.

Keita has fun. He unwinds. Woonggi doesn’t magically appear, but the alcohol helps Keita think about other things - or nothing at all. He gets closer to people he thought he was close to already. Some of them might become friends for life.

Eventually, Keita’s social battery drains and he leaves with a bottle of water to find a secluded spot to sober up and recharge. Most of the staircases are already taken, but there’s a couch in the next corridor that’s deserted, so he sits down heavily and leans his head back against the cold wall.

He must doze off, because next thing he knows someone is shaking his shoulder.

”Are you sleeping?” Kuanjui asks.

Keita shakes his head, feeling his brain wobble against the insides of his skull. “Just- just cooling off.”

Kuanjui nods. “Mind if I join you? All the staircases are full.”

Keita gestures to the empty spot next to him on the couch, feeling it dip as Kuanjui sits down.

”Cool party,” Kuanjui says after an awkward pause. “I don’t remember inviting you, though?”

Keita looks at him. “Did you invite even half those people?” 

“They tend to just turn up anyway.” Kuanjui shrugs. “Something about me being the best host, or whatever.”

”Wumuti invited me,” Keita admits. Without really meaning to, he adds, “He thought it might help me come to terms with my sexuality, or something.”

Kuanjui raises an eyebrow, but otherwise doesn’t seem shocked. “Has it?”

Keita thinks, as much as his befuddled brain will let him. With too many thoughts, it’s easy to get lost wondering if he’s actually attracted to men (although at this point he thinks he’s pretty sure the answer is yes) and whether that means he was never attracted to women in the first place - did he actually fall in love, or just convince himself that’s what it was? It hurts, even the suggestion, but he’s thought it nonetheless.

To Keita on soju, though, the connection seems crystal clear: he recognises what he’s feeling towards Woonggi. He recognises it as the same way he felt about his girlfriend when he was seventeen, back before they started dating, back before they fell in love with each other. It’s different in all the ways that are obvious, but inside, Keita doesn’t feel like he’s changed that much at all.

”I know what could help you come to terms with your sexuality,” Kuanjui says. “If you want.”

He’s looking at Keita in a specific way, but it still takes Keita’s five-second-delay alcohol brain an embarrassingly long time to work out what he means.

“I don’t like you in that way, Kuanjui,” he says. “Sorry.” Still, he looks closer at Kuanjui. Simply because it’s been suggested. It hangs in the air.

”Yeah, well, I’m not exactly looking to be pinned down either,” Kuanjui says lightly. He leans forward. “Look, I’ve got this competition thing going on with Jiwoong for who can get through all the Planet gays first. You’d be helping me out.”

Despite himself, Keita laughs. “Who’s winning?”

”Since I don’t think Jiwoong actually knows it’s a competition yet, I’d say it’s probably me,” Kuanjui says. “Besides, I’ve already kissed everyone in G group who consented. Even Jay, who didn’t seem sure enough that he was straight for me to risk it. It’s only taken me this long to come to you because I- well, everyone, I guess, thought you were out of bounds for definite.”

Kuanjui leans back. “If you don’t want to, though…”

But Keita’s a little drunk, and his heart beats wildly in anticipation at the thought of kissing a man. “No, I-” he says, not sure how he’d planned to finish the sentence.

Kuanjui’s eyes, unfocused from alcohol as they are, light up. “Yes?”

”Yes,” Keita says, breathier than he’d like. “Okay.”

He brings his feet up onto the couch, sits on his knees for better leverage. Kuanjui lets him come forwards, open but not making the first move.

Keita pauses, not sure enough to know exactly what he’s doing, not thinking enough to second guess himself.

”I find it’s best to get it over with quickly if you’re nervous,” Kuanjui says.

”I’m not nervous,” Keita says. Then he leans forwards and kisses Kuanjui on the lips.

It’s not nearly as earth-shattering as Keita expected. They both taste like bad breath and cheap spirits. Kuanjui has a five o’clock shadow that Keita can feel against his chin, and against his fingertips as he cups Kuanjui’s jaw. Still, he makes the best of it and puts effort in, because kissing like this is a bit like performing and Keita’s never been one to half-ass his stages.

Kuanjui pulls back first. His head hits the wall behind him, but not hard enough to be jolting.

Keita says the first thing that comes to his mind. “It’s so weird that you have stubble.”

Kuanjui raises an eyebrow. “If you think about it, it’s really not.” He’s a little breathless. “You are a very good kisser, by the way. Better than everyone here except maybe me, and Kamden.”

”You’ve kissed Kamden?” Keita says. Then: “Kamden’s a good kisser?” Then: “Wait, don’t answer that.”

Keita feels a little high. His heart isn’t pounding like before, but he feels like he’s reached… something. This, with Kuanjui, feels everything like a regular, albeit brief, casual hookup. And Kuanjui’s right, it really isn’t weird at all that they both have unshaved faces. It feels like coming home to a house he never knew he owned.

”Chen Kuanjui,” Keita says, sitting back on his heels, placing a hand on the back of the couch to steady himself. “I am bisexual.”

He grins at Kuanjui. Kuanjui grins back.

”I mean, it was kind of obvious all along,” Kuanjui says. “You do dress like a lesbian.”

Keita frowns, looks at the sleeves of his shirt.

”Don’t worry, bi girls eat that shit up,” Kuanjui says.

”I’m not going for bi girls,” Keita says, words just spilling out of his mouth. “I like Woonggi.”

If Kuanjui is surprised, he doesn’t show it. Maybe he has a perfect poker face.

”I am so drunk,” Keita says, the events of the night finally catching up with him.

Kuanjui pats his shoulder in solidarity. “Drink your water,” he says. Then he shifts his weight and stands up.

”If you’ll excuse me,” he says, “I’m gonna go and get so wasted that I throw up or black out.” He brushes off his jeans. “Whichever comes first. Have a good night, Keita.” He turns back to look at Keita, still on the couch. “And if things fall through with your Woonggi boy, I would not be opposed to drunkenly making out with you again.”

Before Keita can respond, he’s off, throwing a casual “Bye,” over his shoulder as he goes.

Keita wakes up the next morning with a headache that isn’t half as bad as it could have been and thanks his drunk self for flooding his body with water last night.

He gets up, uses the bathroom, dunks his head under the running tap and takes a few gulps, then goes back to bed and falls asleep again.

Two hours later, Keita wakes up again, this time feeling slightly more like a human being. They have no schedules over the weekend, so he tucks an arm behind his head and takes the time to lie there and just think.

At first, his memories of the previous evening are hazy. He lies there, floating in his head a bit until it comes back, slowly, bit by bit.

When he gets to the couch, to Kuanjui, he’s not sure how to feel. Usually, he’s confident when it comes to flirting and hook ups, but this was with another guy. Should it have felt different? With Kuanjui, of all people. And he just came out, straight up told Kuanjui he was bisexual with very little forethought.

So much for not doing anything bold.

It felt right, though. Feels right.

Keita decides there and then that he’s not going to feel uncomfortable about it. About anything that happened last night, and about his newfound sexuality, the label. He’s going to own it. He’ll tell the people he wants to tell when the timing feels right, and everyone else can just…

“Fuck it,” he says to himself. He feels free.

He spends the next twenty minutes writing lyrics about it in his head, a habit he picked up in his teens to keep his best and worst thoughts at bay. If he had paper and a pen nearby (or his phone, which is not allowed) he’d write them down, but he’s probably not going to show them to anyone anyway so it doesn’t matter that much.

Ollie finds him like this, still in bed.

”Hyung, you’re awake!” he says. “You missed breakfast but lunch hour starts in, like, ten minutes. I thought I should wake you up.”

Keita pushes himself up and swings his feet off the bed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, I’m up.” His throat is scratchy.

He stands up and brushes past Ollie, muttering thanks. “I’m just gonna wash my face and stuff, then I’ll join you guys.”

Ollie chirps, “Okay, see you!” then bounds out of the room.

When Keita joins the table in the cafeteria, Woonggi and Seowon are there again.

”Look who’s finally awake,” Woonggi says as he sits down. “Did you have fun last night?”

Keita nods, kind of thinking about the kiss, kind of hoping Woonggi can’t tell. Would that make it better, if Woonggi knew? Easier, maybe. But also worse.

“I should think so,” Seowon says. “The music was so loud I couldn’t concentrate on anything else.”

”Sorry,” Keita says, cringing.

”It’s okay,” Woonggi says, “Seowon actually did the full I Like You dance in my room, I don’t know why he’s complaining.”

”Says the person who rapped Keita’s whole verse, word-perfect!” Seowon punches Woonggi in the arm, not lightly.

”You know my song?” Keita asks, too stunned to say anything less stupid.

Woonggi punches Seowon back, hard enough that Seowon has to lean away and rub it. “It’s a rookie group thing, I guess. Probably a bit obsessive. I kept track of everyone’s debuts, back in the day.”

But you remembered the lyrics. At this point, Keita thinks, he’s clutching at anything he’s given. It’s a little embarrassing.

”Anyway,” Woonggi says, sitting up straight. “Don’t think that your wild party or raging hangover gets you out of your promise!”

“Promise?” Keita says. He looks over at Haruto, who just shrugs.

”To hang out with us!” Woonggi slams his hands on the table dramatically. “I’ve come up with the perfect game night idea!”

Seowon rolls his eyes. “It was hardly your idea.”

Woonggi ignores him. “We can play Monopoly!”

”Wait, you packed a whole board game?” Ollie asks.

”Well,” Woonggi says, “I didn’t. But Taerae was telling us the other day about how he beat all his company friends, so I thought we could borrow his. There’s not much to do round here, okay?” He looks around the table, probably trying to look intimidating. “My room. Tonight. Be there, or else.”

Ollie grimaces. “Sorry. Park Hanbin already said he was gonna treat me and some others to dinner. Not an opportunity I can pass up, you know?”

Woonggi pouts, but says, “I’ll forgive you because you’re cute. The rest of you, though-” he looks around the table again, somehow even less menacing than before “-are not nearly cute enough to get away with it. After dinner. Don’t be late.”

”No offence, but aren’t you the sort of person who’d destroy an entire friendship playing a game of Monopoly?” Haruto says to Woonggi.

Woonggi clutches his chest, saying, “How dare you insinuate such a thing,” at the same time as Seowon says, “He definitely is.”

They look at each other. Seowon says, “We love you, but sometimes you can be a teensy bit dramatic.”

Woonggi points at Seowon and says, “I resent that notion,” but everyone, Ollie included, levels him with a look, so he concedes, “Okay. I promise not to rip anyone’s hair out if I lose, is that enough?”

Haruto pats his own head nervously. Seowon says, “It’s probably the best we’ll get.”

“Brilliant.” Woonggi beams. “Planning meeting adjourned. We shall reconvene this evening.” He pauses. “Bring your own snacks, though. Sungmin ate all mine in the first week.”

Keita spends the rest of the day trying to keep the boredom at bay with a notebook and pencil. It’s mostly doodles and one-line hooks - creatively, he’s not running through a dry patch, but he’s also not trying too hard and doesn’t really have much he wants to rap about at the moment. He would spend the afternoon in one of the dance practice rooms, but he’s well aware of the importance of rest days, especially when his body and brain are still recovering from what was probably a little too much alcohol. He knows there are other trainees soldiering through it, but he’s not that self sacrificial. Besides, he wants to preserve his energy for this evening.

Honestly, he hasn’t played board games since he was a trainee in the YG dorms, squashed in a tiny bedroom with the other foreigners, trying to stave off the homesickness during the holidays when it was too expensive to go back to Japan to see his family. He’s not all that fussed about Monopoly, really.

He is looking forward to spending time with Woonggi, though. More than is probably respectable for someone his age. Countless self-indulgent fantasies run through his head, most centred around the idea of Woonggi noticing him, really looking at him, and him looking back. Confidently. Fearless. He almost feels guilty that he’s not thinking about spending time with the others with even half as much fervour. At least he’s spending time with them at all, he thinks.

Keita doesn’t put as much effort into getting ready as he did with the party last night. It sounds like it’s going to be more of a relaxed vibe, and he thinks he’ll be spending most of it sat scrunched on the floor, which he doesn’t really want to do in jeans. After his shower he pulls on the same sweatpants he’s been wearing all day and takes out his usual long-sleeve with a t-shirt over the top combo. He eyes the glasses on his bedside table. He wore his contacts for eighteen hours yesterday, his eyes need a break. He shouldn’t have worn them at all today, but he doesn’t feel half as presentable without them in. It’s supposed to be a laid back evening, though. In a split second decision, he takes his contacts out, grabs his glasses from the table, and leaves.

It ends up being not the worst decision he’s ever made. When he gets to Woonggi’s dorm room, Woonggi opens the door and stops dead.

”You wear glasses?”

Keita pushes them up his nose self consciously and nods.

Woonggi’s still staring at him. Keita scratches behind his ear and lets out an embarrassed laugh. “Is that a bad thing?”

Woonggi shakes himself, shakes his head and grins widely. “No! Nope. I was just surprised is all.”

He drags Keita into the room. Only Haruto is there already. Woonggi sits Keita down on the floor and says, “They suit you, by the way. You should wear them more often.”

Keita - against his best efforts - blushes. He accidentally makes eye contact with Haruto, who raises an eyebrow, then wiggles them both with a smirk. Keita quickly looks away.

Before long, Seowon comes in too, his arm latched onto Taerae, who’s carrying the board game.

”Great, we’re all here!” Woonggi says, turning away and rummaging in his suitcase for something.

Keita nods to Seowon and Taerae in greeting.

”Hanbin wouldn’t let us use his Monopoly unless we brought Taerae along to do damage control,” Seowon explains.

”Something about not trusting any of you not to destroy his game pieces if you lose,” Taerae adds.

Keita smiles at him. Seowon says, “I think he mostly meant Woonggi.”

When Woonggi turns back round, he’s somehow procured a microphone with a blue k-group star sticker wrapped around the body. It’s not plugged in or switched on, but it’s still kind of effective.

”Ladies and gentlemen,” Woonggi says, standing up. “I’m Cha Woonggi and I’ll be your MC for tonight’s game night!”

Seowon claps and cheers. After a few awkward moments, Taerae and Haruto clap and cheer too. Woonggi looks down at Keita and says, “Spoilsport.”

”Anyways,” Woonggi continues. “In case y’all forgot, we’ll be playing Monopoly!” He gestures dramatically to the box, which Taerae brandishes above his head. “I’ve decided Taerae will be banker because I do not want to incur the wrath of Park Hanbin.” Keita could swear he sees Seowon shudder in fear across the makeshift circle.

”As for prizes,” Woonggi continues, “I ask each of you to add to the prize pot…” He pauses for just long enough that it loses some of the dramatic effect (of which there was very little to begin with), “…One item of skincare! Whoever wins will take the lot!”

Taerae cheers again. Seowon gasps and says, “You just want to get your hands on my Morning Dew Vitamin C Serum!”

Woonggi shrugs, blinks innocently and says, “So what if I do?”

In the end, Woonggi, Taerae and Haruto all put in sheet masks. Keita volunteers one pot of his favourite moisturiser - he brought five spares with him, in case he ran out, but there’s no way he’s going to get through all of them. Seowon, after many protests (and slightly violent coercion on Woonggi’s part), gives in and offers his serum.

With the prize pot sorted and displayed beautifully on the nearest bedside table, Woonggi plonks himself down between Keita and Taerae and they start the game.

In all honesty, Keita had not been sure that he’d enjoy himself. It’s not that he thought he’d be bored as such, but he’s never spent much time with anyone in the group besides Haruto, with whom he has this weird I-know-you’re-an-extrovert-and-I’m-an-introvert-so-let’s-leave-it-at-that mutual respect thing going on. He’s still a little tired from last night, too, and he can hardly remember the premise of Monopoly at all. He hadn’t thought he’d hate it. He just expected to have to try hard to have fun.

Once his social battery warms up, though…

Keita laughs harder than he’s ever laughed in his life.

Monopoly is just Monopoly, but each turn is punctuated with memes and inside jokes that Keita quickly picks up on and laughs along to. In return, the others laugh too at his comments. Woonggi slaps his shoulder enough times that it tingles. At one point, Taerae lands on the Go to Jail square, and as he’s picking up his piece he says, “I’m a bad bitch, you can’t jail me,” in a deep, monotonous voice, which takes the whole room more than five minutes to calm down from.

It’s about forty minutes in that Keita realises Woonggi is cheating.

He’s not sure how he’s getting away with it, really, but he’s being uncharacteristically sneaky with it. He’s putting thought into it, too, losing money as well as taking it. No one else has noticed. Keita probably wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been chancing looks at him every so often.

On one of his turns, Woonggi rolls a six and moves five spaces to pick up the overgrown stack of cash on the Free Parking square. Somehow, he gets away with it again. Keita notices that Woonggi’s bank is starting to look a lot healthier than everyone else’s.

As Taerae has his turn, Keita leans over to Woonggi and, bringing his hand up to hide it from the rest of the room, whispers in his ear, “Share your winnings with me and I won’t tell anyone.”

Woonggi jolts slightly, probably surprised at being caught, but quickly composes himself. He leans over into Keita and whispers back, “Deal.”

”Hey, what are you two whispering about?” Haruto demands from across the circle.

”Just plotting your downfall,” Woonggi says sweetly.

By some crazy twist of luck, on Haruto’s next turn he lands on one of Woonggi’s properties - one that Woonggi had just recently bought a hotel for with his illegal earnings. It’s a cheap property, close to the start of the board, but Haruto hadn’t been doing too well to begin with. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he hands Woonggi all of his money and his two measly properties, then sits back on his hands and says, “Damn, I suck at capitalism.”

They decide to keep playing until the last man standing. Haruto narrates the game like it’s a nature documentary, which is equal parts hilarious and distracting. Woonggi doesn’t cheat as much now that Haruto’s watching their every move, but in the end it doesn’t matter. His already substantial property empire picks up on its own, with people landing on his expensive spaces and filling his swollen wallet.

Keita, through luck of the roll, manages to avoid Woonggi’s grasp more than Seowon and Taerae. He has a decent amount of money stored - no where near as much as Woonggi, but enough to keep him in the game. The other two hold on admirably, but eventually fall to Woonggi.

When it’s just Keita and Woonggi left, Woonggi puts down his cards and says, “From the goodness of my own heart, I have decided to stop the game here with two winners and share the prizes equally between myself and Keita.”

Haruto, Taerae and Seowon all cheer loudly at that, and no one points out that Keita would have had no chance of winning if they’d played for longer. Keita cheers too. Woonggi smiles at him with his whole face, eyes scrunched and teeth on full display. Keita feels himself fall a little further.

They take their time divvying up the prize skincare. Woonggi makes a whole show of describing each product in detail - “Ooh! A green tea hydrating sheet mask for a glowing, glass complexion!” (the mask he himself had donated to the prize pot) - before handing them to Keita. When it comes to the serum, Seowon pouts so hard Woonggi eventually gives in and hands the product back to him.

”I’m far too soft,” Woonggi says, eyeing the packaging dejectedly.

”You are my best friend in the entire world,” Seowon corrects.

Woonggi keeps Keita’s moisturiser. Keita’s too embarrassed to admit to himself that he’ll probably read into that way too far later, when he’s alone with his thoughts.

After the game has been packed away, they stay for a while in Woonggi’s room, sitting and talking. There’s no beer, but Keita finds he doesn’t need it - Woonggi brings him out of his shell.

Eventually, though, Haruto crashes, and Keita takes that as his cue to leave too.

”I had fun tonight,” Keita says as he follows Haruto through the door.

”Yes!” Woonggi says, still with far too much energy for this late in the day. “We should do this more often.”

Keita nods and smiles, genuinely, then turns to catch up with Haruto who has already zombie-walked the entire length of the corridor.

”Hey, Keita,” Woonggi says suddenly, catching him by the arm. “Come and sit at our lunch table tomorrow, okay?”

Keita looks Woonggi in the eye. He almost forgets to reply - almost forgets to breathe - as Woonggi looks down at him, eyes droopy and tired despite the energetic front he’s put up. “Yeah. Okay.”

He commits Woonggi’s smile to memory one last time before turning away and heading off to bed.

Keita does sit at Woonggi’s table at lunch the next day. And at dinner.

Over the next few days, Keita spends more time with Woonggi and his friends than he’s spent with any other trainee, outside of practice. Woonggi is extroverted enough that Keita doesn’t really have much of a choice but to be dragged around - not that he minds. Weirdly, spending time with Woonggi is not nearly as tiring as it should have been. Keita doesn’t have to recharge after being around him. Instead he finds himself counting the hours until he’ll be around Woonggi again. He’s falling faster than he should.

It doesn’t feel scary, though. It’s exhilarating.

Woonggi even visits him during practice a couple of times. At first the Gang trainees - mostly Junhyeon - try to chase him out with cries of, “Enemy spy!” but Woonggi turns up the charm and eventually gets both teams to perform for him.

After practice, long after Woonggi has returned to his own training room, Haruto comes up to Keita and claps him on the shoulder. “Are you eating with us today?”

Keita grimaces, realising for the first time that he’s kind of abandoned Haruto and the rest of the Zoom team in favour of Woonggi. He tries to think of the right words to apologise, but Haruto speaks before he can say them.

”It’s okay, dude,” Haruto says cheerfully. “I don’t mind you sitting with other people!” He leans into Keita’s personal space and stage-whispers, “Go get your man, huh?”

Keita freezes. “Is it that obvious?”

”Were you trying to be subtle? People could probably see it from the moon, if there was anyone on it at the moment.” Haruto picks up his bag and starts walking towards the door. “Seriously, though. I don’t mind. Cong and Honghai were complaining that they’d been missing my presence anyway.”

”You could come and sit at Woonggi’s table too,” Keita says feebly.

”I know,” Haruto says. He turns to look at Keita. “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

Haruto leaves, shutting the door none too quietly behind him. Keita stays, alone in the practice room.

So Haruto knows. Apparently Keita is obvious enough about his crush- crush thing on Woonggi that Haruto picked up on it without being told.

Did Keita just come out to Haruto? Inadvertently. He didn’t deny it.

Right there, in the centre of a Boys Planet training room, Keita’s entire future flashes before his eyes. He’s going to have to come out. To everyone.

He’d felt so sure, so confident, before. There’s a world outside the queer safety of Boys Planet, though. Even if his current feelings for Woonggi never amount to anything, there will still be other men. Keita’s been thinking, and there have definitely been guys in his past that he would have had a crush on if he’d have known that’s what it was. It’s not new. He’s just aware of it now. Will be for the rest of his life.

Even if he only ever dates women - will he have to tell them? Will he want to? Keita hates lying. He hates having to keep secrets.

Will he have to tell his family?

The weight of all the people in the world seems to fall on his shoulders. All the people who will look at him and expect him to be straight. All the people whose expectations he’ll have to… defy? Disappoint? Not disappoint. He’ll just have to tell them. Tell them that he’s-

Bisexual. It’s not even been a whole week since he first said it out loud, since he properly figured it out. He’s thought about coming out before, a little, but only in the context of homophobia. He’d thought that the biggest problem he’d have to face would be people’s disgust, but uneducated bigotry he can handle, can prepare himself for, defend himself against.

The idea that he’ll have to tell everyone he meets, everyone he’s ever met, that he’s not everything they’d assumed him to be, though…

It terrifies him.

Keita sits down on the floor and places a hand on the varnished wood, grounding himself. He focuses on filling his lungs with air and emptying them again. He tenses his body from the tips of his toes to the top of his head and all the way through his fingertips, then relaxes each of his muscles individually, draining himself of all his tension and panic.

He almost misses dinner.

Woonggi, Seowon and Taerae are all still eating when he sits down. Keita says, “Sorry, I was held up with something in the practice room,” when Woonggi asks where he’s been. Woonggi thankfully accepts it without question, and goes back to listening to Seowon recount a story - about one of his exes, Keita finds out as he listens.

Seowon’s boy talk does wonders for Keita’s mood. All the panic he felt just half an hour ago seems worlds away when Seowon casually says “he,” when Taerae talks about the first boy he kissed so openly and everyone else at the table laughs at the awkwardness of it. When Woonggi throws the word gay around like it’s not heavy - it’s not, not at this table, and not for most of the trainees on the show. Keita still feels exhausted, but he’s calm. Content.

Taerae must have read his mind, or something, because in a lull in the conversation, he smiles down at his nearly-empty tray and says, “Having gay friends kind of feels like winning the lottery, sometimes.”

Keita looks up at him, nodding before he even realises he’s doing it. He swallows his mouthful of food and says, “I get what you mean. Did you not have gay friends at school?”

Taerae ducks his head, a little embarrassed, and says, “Um, no.” He pauses. “I was actually bullied while I was at school.”

Keita puts down his chopsticks. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Taerae shrugs, brightens up. “It’s okay, I’m fine now. I’ve done my therapy and everything.” He grins. “Besides, pretty soon I’ll be famous and they’ll have to listen to their wives and children say their bias is the same Kim Taerae they hated so much in high school.”

Seowon cheers supportively at that, and Woonggi whistles and says, “Go Taerae!” Even Keita can’t stop smiling.

Taerae gestures to Keita and says, “What about you? Did you have a queer friendship group growing up?”

Woonggi jumps in before Keita can answer. “Oh no, Keita’s straight. He probably didn’t even know who the queer group were in school, right?”

Keita freezes. This is my chance, he thinks. The opening is right there - they’re already on the topic of his sexuality, he could just pop up and tell them. Everyone at the table. Confidently. It wouldn’t be awkward. Won’t.

”Actually,” Keita says. “I’m bisexual.”

The resounding silence that follows is not what Keita expected. Woonggi is staring at him in shock. Keita quickly looks away, down at his food.

”What?” Woonggi says croakily, clearing his throat. “But you’re like… the straight one on Boys Planet. Right? Like, mostly everyone is gay and then you’re the token straight.” He loses steam the further he gets into the sentence.

Keita genuinely doesn’t know how to respond. He kind of was the token straight, wasn’t he? Except no one actually said it out loud, and then all of a sudden he wasn’t anymore. How does he explain that, right here, right now?

He shovels a spoonful of soup into his mouth so that he has an excuse not to say anything at all, but the noodles taste like cardboard and the meat feels unswallowable in his mouth. He sits there, chewing and chewing, hoping no one will ask him to speak.

Conversation picks up slowly around him. He nods and hums when he’s addressed, but he’s not really present enough to contribute. He pushes his food around his bowl, not hungry enough to eat any more. He feels monumentally awkward. Woonggi, who’s sat uncharacteristically quiet next to him, feels awkward too.

When Seowon stands to leave, claiming that practice wiped him out, Keita seizes the opportunity to leave as well. “I’ll head out now,” he says, picking up his tray. Taerae pats him lightly on the arm. Woonggi nods at him, but it doesn’t feel like it used to.

Keita doesn’t look back at the table after emptying his tray. He just leaves, out the door, as quick as he can without flat-out running.

When Ollie gets back to his room that evening, it’s not too late - 11pm, ish - but Keita is already showered and fast asleep. Ollie stands there, in the doorway, for a few moments, staring down at him.

Keita has seemed so… tired, lately. Over the last few weeks; he’s been doing well in the practice room, but during the breaks and at mealtimes the stress of the show must have got to him. Ollie had invited Seowon and Woonggi to their usual table in an attempt to lift up Keita’s mood at least a little, and he thinks it worked. Maybe.

When Ollie looks closer at Keita, he sees that his eyes look puffy and red, as if he has been crying.

Keita is one of Ollie’s favourite people on Boys Planet. He’s really good at everything he does, but it’s more than that - whereas there are loads of trainees who are just fun to be around, loud and boisterous and there to have a wild time, Keita’s presence is more solid. Comforting. His confidence rubs off on everyone around him too, Ollie included. Ollie had thought, before he arrived, that he’d feel intimidated by the trainees who are so much older and more experienced than him, but Keita never holds it over anyone. Just lifts people up and doesn’t make a big deal of it.

Ollie washes up quickly, and when he reenters the room he walks straight past his bed and goes to Keita’s. Keita isn’t usually opposed to skinship, and a good hug rarely goes amiss. Besides, Ollie wants to snuggle.

He climbs gently onto the bed, careful not to wake Keita up. He tucks himself in behind Keita, next to the wall, and throws an arm over his waist. Keita doesn’t stir.

Just as Ollie can feel himself falling asleep, though, Keita shifts. He settles more comfortably into Ollie. Tugs his arm closer. Says nothing. Ollie’s not sure if he’s awake.

Ollie smiles softly into the back of Keita’s head, closes his eyes, and lets sleep pull him under.

Woonggi doesn’t sleep that night. He waits until everyone else in his dorm has fallen asleep, then grabs a hoodie, tucks his feet into some slippers, and sneaks out.

Woonggi knows how to cry. Since he’s been on Boys Planet, he’s cried alone, cried with friends, cried with the cameras on and off, even cried just for the sympathy points once or twice. So he knows where the best hidden spots are - blind spots where the 24 hour cameras don’t reach, areas that are popular because they’re more comfortable than a concrete floor and spots that (he thinks) no one else knows about.

The place he’s headed to now is his favourite. It’s just a staircase, but it’s nicely caged in on most sides with just enough room to dramatically slide down the wall (it helps, okay?) and far enough away that no one else ever goes there. He has to navigate multiple floors and corridors and corners to get there, but he’s a man on a mission.

Woonggi feels terrible.

Never before in his life has he ever reacted that poorly to someone coming out. He can’t remember a time he reacted that bad to anyone telling him anything important at all.

And it was Keita, of all people.

So what, Woonggi had assumed he was straight. His gaydar tends to be overshadowed by the fact that he’s a certified Camp Gay and he sometimes forgets that other people aren’t on the same personality spectrum as him, it’s one of his toxic traits, it’s happened before, so what. It’s never been difficult before to change course, accept the new information, laugh it off with a lewd joke or a clap on the back.

With Keita, he said nothing.

He just sat there! Awkwardly! Keita said nothing, either, but what was there for him to pick up? Woonggi had pretty effectively cocked-aimed-shot the conversation dead. He’s mortified.

When Seowon and Keita left, Taerae had said, “What the hell was that?” more to the table than to Woonggi, but Woonggi did not have an answer. He just had no idea.

Fat tears have already started rolling down his cheeks by the time he makes it to his cry spot. He slumps down heavily onto the second-from-bottom stair and sobs, head in his hands.

Woonggi cries loudly. He’s not near enough to civilisation for anyone to hear him anyway, and he finds that the more he focuses on crying as loudly as possible, the less brain space he has left to focus on how much he hates himself right now.

He cries loud enough that he doesn’t hear anyone approaching until they’re nearly on top of him.

”Oh, someone else is here already,” a voice says. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

”No, wait, is he crying?” another voice says. “Should we ask if he’s okay?”

A pause. “Who is that?”

Woonggi stops crying immediately and sits up rod-straight. He doesn’t wipe away his tears, that would be embarrassing, and if whoever it is has already seen him being dramatic he might as well own it all the way.

”Cha Woonggi, is that you?” the second voice says. Someone steps round him on the stairs and stands in front of him, facing him. Woonggi looks up.

It’s Sung Hanbin. Because, of course it’s Sung Hanbin.

”Are you okay?” Hanbin asks.

”Just peachy,” Woonggi croaks.

Hanbin gives him a look, then kneels (probably quite uncomfortably) on the step beneath him, puts a hand on his shoulder and says, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Woonggi looks around. Behind him stands Zhanghao, evidently the other voice he’d heard, looking concerned and just a little bit put out. Woonggi decides to ruin his night some more.

”I’m having a bad day,” he says.

Hanbin nods. “Stressed about the eliminations?”

Woonggi had been somewhat stressed about eliminations, but who wasn’t? He has more pressing matters to think about.

”I’ve done something kind of awful,” he says.

Hanbin says nothing, just squeezes his shoulder and nods encouragingly.

Woonggi ends up telling them everything.

He doesn’t say Keita’s name - he’s already messed up enough, he’s not about to out him to people who might not know already. But he tells them about the topic, how he’d assumed this friend of his was straight, and then the friend told him he wasn’t, and he basically rejected that. About how he’s never done something like that before. About how he should have said something - sorry, for starters - but he didn’t, and how he hates himself for that. How he wishes he could turn back time and just… not do any of what he did. Make it better by erasing the fact that he messed up in the first place.

Halfway through his dramatic monologue, Zhanghao sits next to him on the stairs and puts an arm around his shoulder. Woonggi’s not sure why - he’d be pretty disgusted if he was gay (or, a different gay) and someone else told him about how they’d killed their bisexual friend’s coming-out-confidence. He leans into the hug anyway, wiping away some of his fresh tears surreptitiously, because it makes him feel slightly less alone.

”Well,” Hanbin starts slowly once Woonggi’s finished. “Can you think of why it might have been different with this particular friend?”

Woonggi blinks. He’d been expecting Hanbin to berate him for his awful behaviour (although he’s not sure why he’d expected that in hindsight, knowing who and how Hanbin is) not for him to play counsellor. It stumps him, because he actually hadn’t wondered why it was different with Keita.

”Um,” he says. “I guess… It took me by surprise?”

Hanbin nods. “But you said you’ve been surprised by other people coming out to you, didn’t you? Why might you have reacted so strongly to this person in particular?”

Woonggi thinks. (He’s not used to having to think this deeply, especially not at one o’clock in the morning.) “Because… In my head, he was… straight?” Woonggi’s talking straight out of his gut, no filter. He doesn’t know if it makes sense.

Because here’s the thing. Woonggi doesn’t go for straight guys. When he first meets people, sometimes they tell him, sometimes he just knows, and immediately in his head they’re categorised - if a man is straight, Woonggi won’t be attracted to him. He just won’t. It could be G-fucking-Dragon for all he cares. He’s not here to play games. Heterosexuality is the biggest turn off.

So when Keita turned up, Woonggi assumed - everyone assumed - that when he talked about his ex girlfriends that meant he didn’t have any ex boyfriends, that when he was accepting of everyone else being gay it was in an ally way, that he was the token straight, off limits. To Woonggi, Keita was off limits.

Now that Woonggi knows, though, that Keita is attracted to guys, everything has been thrown off course. Keita’s attractive - Woonggi has eyes, of course Keita is attractive - but Woonggi hadn’t thought of him like that. Hadn’t been allowed to think of him like that.

”Because,” Woonggi says, “I felt… cheated?”

Suddenly, without warning, a waterfall of tears works its way up the back of Woonggi’s throat and out into the world, all mixed up in thoughts and words he didn’t even know were inside him.

”Because I would have liked him if I’d have known,” he sobs. “I do like him. I like his face and his talent and his smile, and his laugh, oh my god, and when he wears glasses-” a particularly violent sob comes out at this “-and his stupid fashion sense. I like him. I like being around him. I want to- I want him.”

Woonggi leans into Zhanghao’s shirt and cries and cries, until it hurts, until he’s not sure why he’s crying anymore, until he has no more tears left and all that comes out is a dry sniffle.

Then he sits up straight. “Sorry for ruining your shirt,” he says to Zhanghao without really meaning it.

”It’s okay,” Zhanghao says, also without really meaning it. Then, he says, “I think you should apologise, firstly. To your friend.”

There it is. Woonggi thinks he should apologise, too. He was going to apologise. He just needed to cry about it first.

”Yeah,” Hanbin says. “It’s clear that you’re beating yourself up about it, so it might help you feel better if you say sorry.”

Woonggi nods.

”Also,” Hanbin continues. “You could try explaining why you reacted the way you did to your friend?”

Woonggi blanches.

”Liking somebody is not as be-all-and-end-all as you’d think,” Hanbin says.

”Actually I think it kind of is.” Oh god. Woonggi likes Keita. Woonggi likes Keita.

”Stop being dramatic,” Zhanghao jokes lightly. “Maybe this friend even likes you back?”

”Hah, no way,” Woonggi says. Then he thinks about how Keita has made his way pretty seamlessly into his life and thinks, maybe?

Nope. No. Now is not the time.

”Thank you, guys,” Woonggi says. “For putting up with my ugly mess.”

”It’s no problem,” Hanbin says. “I hope you feel better.”

Woonggi nods. “Anyways, what were you guys doing all the way down here before I interrupted you?”

Hanbin and Zhanghao share a look over Woonggi’s shoulder. “Well,” Hanbin starts awkwardly.

Woonggi gasps and jumps up. “Wait! You should have said something!” He slaps them both none too gently on the arm. “I’ll go now, don’t worry, I’ll get out of your hair.” He takes a couple steps up the staircase, then turns back to face them. “Have fun!” He winks, badly. “Don’t forget protection!”

With that, he’s off, racing along the corridors until he gets to the section where most people are probably asleep, where he slows down and tiptoes so as not to wake anyone.

All the crying he’s done has exhausted him - he’s definitely heading straight to bed - but it’s also made him feel better. He’ll get his beauty sleep now.

Tomorrow morning, he has an apology to plan.

The next day, before Keita’s even had a chance to sit down and eat breakfast, he’s pulled aside by Woonggi, who yanks his arm and shoves him behind the nearest door.

”Is this a store cupboard?” Keita asks.

Woonggi shrugs. “Listen, I won’t keep you long, I just really wanted to say how sorry I am about what happened yesterday.” He looks Keita in the eye, sincerely, still holding onto his arm.

”Oh,” Keita says, a little flustered at how intensely Woonggi’s staring at him. “Um, it’s fine. It’s okay.”

It’s the truth. Sure, he’d cried a little last night, but that was more from how overwhelmed he’d been feeling recently - it had been building up for a while, ever since the dance battle really, and anything could have set it off.

Keita realised, last night, that he wasn’t actually upset at how Woonggi reacted at all. He was clearly shocked - a natural response. Keita probably would have reacted the same way if the roles had been reversed. Keita’s probably even told Woonggi he’s straight before - when he first arrived at the show, he threw the word ‘ex-girlfriend’ around casually, thoughtlessly. It wasn’t until he started to think he was attracted to men that he really payed attention to what he said.

Honestly, Keita had been far more worried that Woonggi wouldn’t want to talk to him again - that maybe he would feel so awkward about the whole thing that he’d avoid Keita for the rest of the show, or even (when Keita was crying his hardest and feeling his worst) that Woonggi would be annoyed that Keita hadn’t told him earlier and not want to be friends anymore.

The fact that Woonggi is here, right now, still talking, assuages all of Keita’s worries. He thinks he might be grinning.

”It’s not okay,” Woonggi says. “I was an ass about it, and you have every right to-” Woonggi stops, realising that Keita’s not paying full attention. “Look, I’m just- I want you to know how sorry I am. Will you let me make it up to you?”

Woonggi’s looking at him with wide, shining eyes and a small pout on his lips - Keita doesn’t think he even knows he’s doing it. At this moment, Keita would probably agree to anything Woonggi says.

”Okay,” he says. “Yeah, sure.”

Woonggi’s face lights up, but not in the playful, exaggerated way Keita’s used to. This time, it’s honest. Woonggi smiles. “Good,” he says. “Meet me by the west entrance this evening, immediately after practice. I’m taking you out for dinner. I already have the exeat permission slip thingies, so just bring yourself.”

”Can I shower first?” Keita asks.

”What- yes, of course, if you’re quick about it.”

“And change?”

Woonggi looks up and down at his clothes. “You already look good- fine in your training clothes, but if you want.”

Keita smiles. “Can I leave this store cupboard now?”

Woonggi blushes, looking around as if he’s only just realised the position he dragged Keita into.

”Um, yeah, sorry,” he says. “Tonight, though? You can make it?”

He looks so hopeful that even if he had other plans, Keita would have cancelled them (he might have done it anyway, just to be with Woonggi). “I’m free,” he says. “I’ll be there.”

With that, Woonggi smiles, shoves him back out of the cupboard and follows him, pushing him down the corridor and rolling his eyes at a passing Zhang Shuaibo who looks as if he just saw something he really didn’t want to.

Despite himself, Keita is excited for his date- not date with Woonggi this evening. The day can’t pass quick enough. He flies through training, hardly thinking at all.

Eventually, practice has finished, he’s washed and clothed and waiting for Woonggi at the west entrance.

When Woonggi arrives, he sees Keita waiting and his face lights up. “You came!”

”Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Woonggi’s smile drops a little, but he’s playful when he punches Keita in the arm. “I don’t think you understand just how bad I feel about this.” He takes a few steps forward. “You ready to go?”

Keita stops, gesturing for Woonggi to stop too. “Hey,” he says. “Don’t do this just because you feel bad, okay? I’ve already forgiven you.” He pauses, swaying a little. “Do it because you want to treat your favourite hyung to dinner.”

Woonggi rolls his eyes, pushes Keita a little. “I’m doing this for myself more than anything,” he says. “I’ll feel much less guilty if I’ve given you material compensation.”

Keita nods. “Fine. But have fun too, yeah?”

Woonggi faces him, takes a noticeable breath. “I always have fun when I’m with you.”

Keita notices a cute blush on Woonggi’s cheeks. He feels warmth crawl up the back of his own neck too. “So, where are we going?” he asks a little too loudly, mainly to disperse the tension.

Woonggi shrugs, and starts walking again. “I don’t know. I tried to commandeer one of the company iPads to google places nearby but I think someone’s hidden them all. There’s one restaurant in the town that Sungmin and I went to a couple of times in the first few weeks, but we could go somewhere else.”

Keita hasn’t actually left the campus for anything unofficial since he got there, so he doesn’t really know what’s available, or how long it takes to get to the town Woonggi mentioned. “We can decide when we get there,” he says. “I’m not too fussy.”

As they walk, they talk about trivial things - the weather (it’s been getting sunnier recently, spring is on the way), training, the toilet at the far end of the practice room bathrooms that has been busted for a week. It’s the most awkward Keita has been with Woonggi since they met. It feels as if something has changed, now that Keita is out, now that Woonggi knows. It might just be because it’s something he’s not used to. Keita clings to that hope.

Within twenty minutes, small cafes and independent shops have begun to appear to either side of the path. Soon, they’re in the middle of a built-up town - Keita’s surprised at how big it is, with chain branches and multi-storey shopping centres. There are plenty of food places to choose from.

They spend a few minutes trying to decide where to go without much luck, but then Woonggi spots a sign for a street food market a few streets away. Since it’s still relatively warm out and they’re both wrapped up in big coats (and neither has eaten anything fried in way too long) they decide to get a few snacks to take away and share between them.

They take their food to a nearby park for a makeshift picnic. At first, they try sitting on a bench, but the metal is too cold so they end up on the grass, complaining but not actually all that worried about grass stains.

Once they’re settled, Woonggi cracks open his chopsticks, takes the biggest fishcake from their container of tteokbokki, and holds it up to Keita’s mouth for him to eat, his other hand cupped underneath to catch any crumbs. It’s the first thing he does. All of a sudden, Keita is struck with the realisation that he’s alone with Woonggi, far away from the Planet campus and from anyone else. His entire world sways a little, rose-tinted.

Keita watches Woonggi as he opens all the polystyrene containers and sets them out on the grass. In the low light of the sun almost set he can just make out that Woonggi has brushed some glitter under his eyes and gloss on his lips. Not for the first time, Keita is struck with the urge to kiss them. It’s a makeup look Woonggi has done before, but Keita has never felt free enough to properly admire it. Now, away from everyone else, he feels a little high with the thought of all the possibilities the night could bring him.

”So, do you feel compensated?” Woonggi asks suddenly, gesturing to the tteokbokki container he’d fed Keita from.

”I don’t know,” Keita says, eyes never leaving Woonggi’s face. “Maybe you should do it again just to make sure.”

Immediately Woonggi does, without question. Ears burning, he puts all of his focus into finding the biggest piece from each container just so he doesn’t have to look up at Keita.

Eventually, Woonggi gets round to feeding himself, and Keita picks up his own chopsticks, grabbing a rice cake. They eat in companionable silence, both hungry from spending most of the day dancing, wanting to eat before it all goes cold.

”I do, by the way,” Keita says eventually, when most of the food is gone. “Feel compensated.” He sets his chopsticks down on the edge of a container and leans back onto his hands, not caring about the slight dampness of the grass. “I want you to know that it’s really okay. I don’t feel bad about it, and I don’t want you to either.”

Woonggi pushes the dregs of a noodle dish around with his chopsticks, unconvinced. Keita just wants him to stop feeling guilty. He wants to be the one to take the guilt away.

”I probably would have been the same, I think,” he says.

Woonggi still doesn’t look up.

”Besides,” Keita says. “You were half right, I guess.” He takes a deep breath, looks away from Woonggi. “Until very recently, I thought I was straight too.”

At this, Woonggi looks up. “Really?” When Keita nods, he says, “God, that makes it even worse.”

”It makes it understandable,” Keita corrects. “Woonggi, I probably even told you in passing that I was straight, when I first arrived on the show. I don’t remember. I didn’t think about it back then.”

Woonggi plays with a blade of grass. “Since you came on Boys Planet? That recent?”

Keita nods. “Since the-” he chickens out of saying since the dance battle, since I saw you “-since being around so many people who are out. Made me think about things.”

Woonggi throws his head into his hands. “I am so, so sorry. That’s just- Don’t let this stop you from feeling able to tell other people, please? I am such an awful representative of the queer community. It’s not usually like this, you know? Most people will be really supportive.”

”Woonggi, it’s okay,” Keita says. He pulls one of Woonggi’s hands away from his face, holds onto it to try and ease some of his worry. Woonggi, ever dramatic, holds onto his role and keeps the other hand pressed closely into his face. “It’s okay,” Keita says. “I’m fine.”

“Was I the first person you came out to?” Woonggi asks.

”No,” Keita says simply. “You won’t be the last, either.” In an attempt to lighten the mood, he adds, “Did you really think you could destroy my confidence that easily?”

Woonggi huffs. “You are pretty confident.”

”So are you,” Keita says.

”I am confident that I’m the worst person in the world,” Woonggi says. Keita is almost entirely sure he’s making a joke. This is better.

”Hey,” he says. “Why is this all me comforting you? Aren’t you meant to be apologising to me?”

”I am!” Woonggi wails exaggeratedly. “I’m worse than the worst person in the world! I’m the worst person in the world who also gaslights and refuses to admit to their shortcomings!”

At this point Keita is completely sure Woonggi is joking. He can’t help but grin.

”I did already apologise, though,” Woonggi says, sitting up straight and looking at Keita, who quickly attempts to stop smiling. “And you accepted.” He pouts. “No take-backsies.”

”No take-backsies,” Keita deadpans. “How old are you?”

”Old enough to know a binding contract when I see one!” Woonggi says. “You accepted my apology!”

”Fine, I did,” Keita says.

”Fine!”

”Fine, let’s move on!”

”Okay, fine!”

They both look at each other and burst into laughter. Woonggi squeezes Keita’s hand that he’s still holding, probably accidentally, and Keita squeezes back, definitely on purpose. Inside, he’s glowing.

After that, they gather up their containers and throw them in a bin before walking around the park. Woonggi is much less awkward now, talking almost non-stop, smiling and laughing whenever Keita says anything, even jumping and running around, tapping each tree branch he walks under and playing chicken with the local pigeons. (Woonggi chickens out first every time except once, when a truck drives past on the road just outside the park and scares the pigeon off. They both pretend it was Woonggi’s bravery that won him the match.) Keita stands back and watches it all, unable to keep the smile off his face.

Eventually, they slow down. Woonggi walks alongside Keita with his hands clasped behind his back. The setting sun shines dappled light on his hair through the leaves of the trees lining the path. Woonggi has never looked so beautiful to Keita.

”So,” Woonggi says quietly, looking at the ground. He stops walking and scuffs a stone with his toe. “This wasn’t a date.”

Keita freezes.

He knew. He knew this wasn’t a date. He knew this was Woonggi clearing his guilty conscience, nothing more, just as friends - acquaintances - do. He knew, right from the beginning.

Still he took what he wanted. In his head he treated this like a date, like he was allowed to like Woonggi unabashedly, like a creep. And now Woonggi has noticed. He’s noticed and he feels uncomfortable. Keita has ruined everything.

”Wait,” Woonggi says, grimacing and grabbing onto Keita’s arm. “This wasn’t a date… But I’d like to?” He looks back down at the floor. “Take you out on one? A date, I mean.”

Keita’s heart does a complete 180 so fast his thoughts almost can’t keep up. The words aren’t registering. Still, as Keita looks at Woonggi, a genuine smile breaks out on his face.

Woonggi looks at Keita, sees his expression, and says, “What I mean is…” He lets go of Keita’s arm, steps back into a clear spot just to the side of the path.

”Starting from the sunrise in the morning,” Woonggi sings, a little too loud and off key, “You’re the only one I think about-”

Keita lunges at Woonggi, embarrassed, cringing, and also far more endeared than he’d like to admit. He tries to hold Woonggi down, but Woonggi’s in full swing, complete with the dance, stage presence, an imaginary mic in his hand, the whole nine yards.

”Baby you’re so beautiful!” he sing-shouts, not caring who else he might be disturbing in the park.

“You’re so unserious, why do I like you,” Keita says, hardly audible over Woonggi’s singing.

Woonggi stops immediately. “You like me?”

”What were you planning on doing if I said no?” Keita says. “Although I might still if you start singing again.”

Woonggi pouts, hard. “You like me?” He emphasises the word like, demanding.

Keita takes half a step away from Woonggi to look at him properly, keeping one hand on his elbow. “Were you serious about wanting to take me out on a date?”

Woonggi nods.

”Then do it. I like you, Woonggi. Date me.”

Woonggi bites on his bottom lip, trying to hold back a smile. Keita’s eyes are drawn automatically to the movement. He doesn’t look away.

“How about now?” Woonggi whispers.

”Hmm?”

”How about I take you on a date now?” Woonggi says.

Keita finally makes eye contact with him. “Have we not just…?”

”No,” Woonggi says. “Nope. I mean, actually, it kind of was, wasn’t it?”

”It definitely was,” Keita says. “I treated it like it was.”

Woonggi smiles wider at that, the sort of smile you can’t hold back even if you want to. “Another one, then. Lets watch the sunset.”

Keita looks up. Through the dense trees, he can just see the last dregs of an orange sky. “I think we might be too late.”

“No!” Woonggi says, as if the earth would pause its orbit just because he says so. “If we hurry, we can find somewhere pretty to watch.”

Before Keita can say anything, Woonggi grabs his hand and drags him off, half running, slowed down because he keeps looking back at Keita.

In the end, they miss the sunset. The town doesn’t have any hills or high places to see the sky uninterrupted, and by the time they make it to the outskirts the sun is long beneath the horizon and the sky is a dark blue.

They stop, still holding hands, both a little out of breath. Woonggi bends over, a hand on his knee, heaving dramatically, mostly just for show.

”No sunset,” Keita says, tugging Woonggi’s hand to get him to stand up.

When Woonggi straightens, they’re much closer than he expected. He would have stumbled backwards, but Keita catches him with a hand on his shoulder, holding him steady, pulling him closer.

”No sunset,” Woonggi says. Keita looks at him, at his eyes, his face, his lips. He’s one of the prettiest people Keita has ever met.

”This is much better,” Keita whispers.

Woonggi pulls back, slapping him lightly on the arm, a ferocious blush on his cheeks. “Don’t say things like that,” he chokes out.

”Hey,” Keita says, cupping Woonggi’s jaw, pulling him back in. Then, he kisses him.

When Keita pulls away, Woonggi is still looking at him, dazed.

”Let’s head back,” Keita says. He pecks Woonggi one more time, just at the corner of his mouth, and then takes him by the hand and starts walking back to campus.

”Wait, wait, wait,” Woonggi says when they’re about halfway back. He’s been relatively quiet until now, just walking along, not letting go of Keita’s hand.

”Hmm?” Keita says.

”So If you weren’t gay until you came to Boys Planet,” Woonggi says. “If you found out you were attracted to men since you started the show, and it wasn’t right at the beginning, I’ve been doing the maths…”

Keita keeps walking, looking straight ahead, dreading what Woonggi is about to say.

“Was it the dance battle?”

Keita doesn’t answer, just speeds up.

”No, actually,” Woonggi says. “Was it me?”

Keita stops walking so abruptly Woonggi nearly trips up. He decides he should probably address it now.

”You are very hot, Woonggi,” Keita says simply.

Woonggi looks away and squeals, separating their hands to slap Keita on the arm.

Keita grins. “Are you going to react this way every time I flirt with you?”

”No!” Woonggi says adamantly. “Yes. It’s weird!” He grabs onto Keita’s hand again. “Keep doing it.”

Keita laughs at him.

”I’m conflicted, okay!” Woonggi says. “I just- I like you.” He looks at the ground. “Was it actually me, though? That made you realise…”

Keita nods, hoping he’s not blushing but knowing he probably is. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Woonggi smiles softly, then grins. “Maybe I should slut drop more often.”

”Maybe you should slut drop on me next time,” Keita says, just to see his reaction.

”Maybe I will!” Woonggi says. Then, he squeals and slaps Keita on the arm.

They keep on walking.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Woonggi says just before the last turn into campus. “If I was your bisexual awakening, does that mean I was also your first guy kiss?”

Keita cringes internally. “Um. No, not exactly,” he says.

”Wait, what?” Woonggi says. “Someone from Boys Planet? Who?”

Keita grimaces. It’s probably going to come out at some point, though. He might as well say it now. “Chen Kuanjui,” he says, quickly and quietly as if that will soften the blow.

Woonggi gasps. “Why am I actually kind of jealous right now?”

Keita squeezes his hand, hoping that he’s not too offended. “It was more of a- Kuanjui has this competition thing. Against Jiwoong.”

“A kissing competition!” Woonggi seems more interested than offended. “Why hasn’t he asked me?”

”He hasn’t?” Keita would have guessed Woonggi would have been one of the first people he asked. “You still can,” he says, before realising it sounds like he’s giving Woonggi permission. “If you didn’t want to miss out. Or something.”

Woonggi taps his chin. “Hmm, no, I think I’ll stay pure and keep my Boys Planet virginity.”

”That’s a shame,” Keita says.

Woonggi doesn’t squeal this time. He does choke on air, though, and they have to stop for five minutes for him to calm down.

When they get back, Keita separates their hands to go to his dorm room, but Woonggi holds tighter and tugs him in the other direction.

”Woonggi,” Keita says, “Are you… are you inviting me to your room?”

Woonggi nearly walks into a door. “No!” he says. Ears burning, he continues, “Well, I mean, literally yes. I just want to cuddle!” He looks at Keita sheepishly. “Is that okay?”

Keita’s not about to say no when Woonggi’s looking at him like that. He follows him in.

They wash up next to each other, Keita brushing his teeth while Woonggi washes his face. They keep stealing glances at each other in the mirror. Keita kind of feels like he’s a teenager again, just finding out that his crush likes him back.

Woonggi pulls out the moisturiser he won off of Keita in the Monopoly game. “This is actually such a good moisturiser,” Woonggi says.

”Right?” Keita replies. “I was really lucky to find it.”

”I think I’m converted,” Woonggi says as he rubs it in. “I might have to steal more from you.”

When they’re done, Woonggi pulls Keita back into the bedroom, towards the bed in the far corner. Keita smiles, a little embarrassed, at Donggun, the only one of Woonggi’s roommates who’s still awake, and Donggun raises an eyebrow at him before grabbing some ear plugs from his bedside table and turning over to face the wall.

Woonggi pulls him over to the bed. “I’m really tired,” he whispers. “Can we just sleep?”

Keita nods. He’s exhausted too - it’s been an eventful day - and he wants nothing more than to fall asleep in Woonggi’s arms. He climbs into bed. Woonggi lifts the covers up for him.

They do cuddle. They settle into the bed that’s too small to fit them both, facing each other, arms wrapped around each other’s waist. They lay there for a while, just looking at each other.

”I like you,” Woonggi whispers softly. “I’ve liked you for a lot longer than I realised. I want to make up for all that time I lost. I don’t want to let you go.”

Sleepily, Keita says, “You don’t have to let go.” He closes his eyes for a few moments, struggling to stay awake. “I like you too.”

Woonggi kisses him on the forehead. If he wasn’t so exhausted, Keita might have cried at that. Just the small gesture, one kiss, and the way Woonggi encircles him with his arms, makes Keita feel… wanted. Cared for. As if he is exactly where he’s expected to be in the world.

”Goodnight, Keita,” Woonggi says.

Keita falls asleep with his head buried in the crook of Woonggi’s neck.

Woonggi drags Keita into an unused practice room the next day. There are only a couple of days left until performances and most people are taking the day off to rest their vocal chords and muscles, so most of the rooms are empty.

”Why are we in here?” Keita asks. “There’s no one else in your dorm room.”

Woonggi sets his water bottle down in a corner and steers Keita towards a chair. “Since I’ve seen yours, I thought I would show you mine!” He twirls round with a flourish. “I’m going to show you my Feel Special performance!”

Keita raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you need the rest of your team?”

”What, my backup dancers?” Woonggi jokes. “They went out. It’s just you and me today, baby.”

Woonggi calls everyone baby all the time, but it’s the first time it’s been directed at Keita, the first time in the context of them being aware of their mutual romantic feelings. Woonggi seems to realise this at the same time as Keita, and he looks a little sheepish. Keita tries not to look at himself in the mirror to check if he’s blushing. He reminds himself he’s allowed this now.

”You don’t have to,” Keita says. “I can wait until you perform on stage.”

”Don’t you want to see it?” Woonggi asks, sounding more self conscious than Keita’s ever heard him.

”No, I do,” he rushes. “I really do. Just… everyone else is resting. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

”I’m fine,” Woonggi says, brightening up. “One quick run through won’t hurt. Besides, I might get eliminated next week so I want to spend as much time in these practice rooms as I can before I leave.”

Keita’s face falls. “You won’t get eliminated. Everyone loves you. You can’t.”

Woonggi shrugs, nonchalant, and plugs in the speaker, pulling up the backing music. “You ready?”

Keita files eliminations away in his head as something to talk about properly later, then sits back in his chair, hands in his lap, and says, “Take it away, Woonggi boy.”

When Woonggi performs, he’s stunning. He’s there in washed out tracksuit bottoms and an oversized hoodie, but he doesn’t let the sweater paws take away from the performance. He gives it his all, even just in the training room, and genuinely enjoys the show. Keita can’t help but smile along with him.

When he finishes, Woonggi says, “Sorry, I made a few mistakes, I just needed to warm up, I’ll show you again.”

”Woonggi, it was great. Perfect. You did well.”

Woonggi smiles at him sincerely, but still goes over to the speakers to replay the backing track.

”Seriously, it was fine,” Keita says, standing up and joining Woonggi. “You don’t need to do anything else. I loved it.”

But Woonggi pouts and says, “One more?” and Keita can never say no to him when he looks like that, so he nods and gestures for him to start the song.

When Woonggi gets into his opening position, though, instead of sitting back in his chair, Keita joins him.

”What are you doing?” Woonggi whispers at him, not wanting to miss his cue.

“Dancing with you,” Keita stage whispers back. “It looks fun.” He knows the lyrics and dance to Feel Special pretty much off by heart anyway.

Woonggi doesn’t look convinced, but he carries on with his performance, trying to focus on that instead of Keita.

Woonggi’s version of the song is a little different from the original. Woonggi soldiers on through his version to start, but before long he joins Keita in the original version. As they dance, Keita can feel Woonggi unwinding, can see it in the mirror. The further through the song they get, the more Woonggi seems to be enjoying himself rather than focusing on giving a good show.

The backing music, made for a different occasion, finishes before they do, but they keep going. When Keita raps Dahyun’s verse, they look at each other, slowing down their dancing, and all of a sudden Keita doesn’t feel like he’s covering a song, he feels like he’s saying the words that he means to Woonggi.

A blush creeps onto Keita’s cheeks and understanding dawns on Woonggi’s face. It feels intimate, almost, to be singing a Twice song of all things, alone in the practice room with nothing but the sounds of their own voices.

Woonggi joins in again as the last chorus comes in, but neither of them are focusing on the song anymore. They look at each other, getting closer without realising, whispering words without a tune.

When the song ends, the sound of silence is barely broken by their breaths. The room is still.

”Woonggi,” Keita says.

Woonggi leans in and closes the gap between them. Automatically Keita’s hands come up to clasp the back of Woonggi’s head, digging his fingers into the soft hairs at the nape of Woonggi’s neck as he slots their lips together.

Keita kisses Woonggi with all that he has. He kisses Woonggi like he’s thought of, like he’s dreamed of, then he kisses him better, basking in the feeling of being right here, right now, the feeling of Woonggi’s hands on his waist and tongue in his mouth.

Woonggi kisses back just as enthusiastically, following Keita’s lead. They break for air and come straight back in, not wanting to miss a second, lost and present in equal measures.

When they finally part, neither says anything for a good few moments, trying to catch their breath and slow their racing hearts. Keita guides them both to the nearest wall and they sit down, next to each other, close.

Woonggi doesn’t stop looking at Keita. Throughout it all, Woonggi keeps his eyes on Keita’s face.

Keita stares back.

”Feeling better?” Keita says softly.

“I don’t know, maybe you should do it again just to make sure,” Woonggi says, parroting what Keita said last night.

Keita huffs out a laugh and leans in, but at the last second kisses Woonggi’s cheek instead. Woonggi pouts at him, the expression only amplified by how kiss-swollen his lips are.

”Tease,” Woonggi says. Keita hums.

They stare at each other in silence. Keita wants to kiss him again. He could kiss him again (even though they’re in a practice room and technically anyone could walk in, although realistically no one will). He can have however much he wants, now. He can ask for anything.

”You are a very good kisser,” Woonggi says, cheeks flushed.

”Hmm, Kuanjui said the same thing,” Keita says, mainly because jealousy can be a pretty good motivator when used well.

”Oh my god, I would literally pay you real money not to be saying another man’s name right now,” Woonggi says.

”There are other ways you can get me to stop talking, you know.”

Woonggi does. He leans in again, leans over and kisses Keita softly, too spent to do anything more.

“I think we should stay here forever,” Keita says when Woonggi pulls back. “No eliminations, no performances.” He takes Woonggi’s hand. “Just like this.”

”I like you,” Woonggi says.

Keita rests his head on Woonggi’s shoulder, and squeezes his hand, and hopes Woonggi knows what he means.

”Thank you, Woonggi,” Keita says later. They’ve migrated to lying on the floor next to each other, holding hands and staring at the ceiling.

”What for?” Woonggi asks.

”Mmm,” Keita says. “You know. Like, being my friend. Letting me tag along with you and all your other friends.”

“I wasn’t letting you tag along, I wanted you to be there.” Woonggi shuffles closer on the floor, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow. “Because I like you. You know that.”

”Yeah,” Keita says weakly. “I guess because I don’t have many other close friends here, I just… wanted to thank you. For…” For noticing me, is what he was going to say, but that feels stupid to say out loud.

”Keita, what?” Woonggi says. He sits up properly. “Literally everyone here loves you. Everyone wants to be your friend.”

”They like my talent.” It’s a competition.

”They like you. Keita, you’re a really likeable person.” Woonggi is looking at him as if that’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Surprise tears spill out of Keita’s eyes. He’s not sad, or particularly happy, just- overwhelmed. Woonggi wipes a thumb over Keita’s cheeks, catching the tears.

”Do you ever get the realisation that you’ve been way too deep inside your head for way too long?” Keita says. “And there’s a whole lot of life that you’ve been missing out on because you thought it wasn’t there in the first place?”

Woonggi looks at him. He’s crying a little as well.

Keita sits up. “Woonggi, you- I-” he takes a breath. “I haven’t been so far inside my own head since I met you. You… make me less lonely.” He looks down at the floor, at their hands still holding each other. “So, thank you.”

Woonggi hugs him. “You don’t have to thank me,” he says. Almost as if he wasn’t meaning to say it out loud, he adds, “I’m never going to let go of you.”

Keita hugs him back, holding on as hard as he can.

“You make everything alright,” Keita says after a while, channeling his inner Dahyun.

”Keita! We were having a moment!” Woonggi kicks him lightly in the shin.

Keita grins. “Yeah, well. It’s true though.” He leans forward and whispers in Woonggi’s ear, “That’s what you do.”