Archive of Our Own

Like the day and night 

We run differently

The middle is only for a moment 

“Alright.” 

Woobin hears the sound engineer’s voice through the stage speakers and he quiets his singing. He looks around at his band beside him, each of them coming to a stop on their instruments.

“That sounds good, guys. See you at curtain!” 

Minhee sighs in relief, excited to go sit down after sound check, and lifts up his bass to untangle himself from the strap. Woobin laughs as he disconnects his mic (sparkly orange—his most prized possession) and heads to the stage steps. While Minhee and Jungmo switch their amps on stand-by, Allen and Taeyoung meet Woobin by the side: the joy of not being guitarists. 

“Okay, but one day we have to do a switch-er-roo,” Taeyoung starts as he leads the way back to their green room. “Imagine Woobin-hyung on drums,” Taeyoung laughs, turning around, brandishing his drumsticks at Woobin like a taunt. 

“Allen-hyung on lead vocal,” Jungmo plays along, as he always does. 

“You on keys then?” Allen replies. He sounds like he’s starting a fight, and Woobin snorts at how cute it is. 

“Minhee could do any of our parts and he would do so well,” Jungmo announces proudly, despite no one asking, as they reach the room. Woobin is sure at this point he’s under contractual obligation to compliment or declare his boyfriend’s greatness every fifteen minutes. He’s never wrong, though, so they don’t mind. 

“We are called miniworld after all,” Jungmo continues.

Minhee rolls his eyes, “I still refuse to acknowledge my name is in our band name.” He places his bass in its case on the ground and makes a bee-line for the couch. “I simply do not see. I am looking away.” 

Woobin collapses onto the couch in between Minhee and Taeyoung, Taeyoung immediately deciding Woobin’s leg is his new practice pad and hitting him with his drumsticks. 

The ‘green room’ of this venue isn’t really a green room, just a tattered couch, two vanities with some of the lights still functioning, and a single clothes rack. Jungmo’s guitar and Minhee’s bass cases take up most of the floor space so they have to manoeuvre around them to get around.

Jungmo and Allen are each sitting at a vanity. Jungmo’s hair is static-y from the lights behind him and it sticks up around him. Which reminds him—

A silver, fluffy-haired Seongmin barges in the door, both arms ladened down by his makeup cases. He’s got glitter on his cheeks: today it’s a shade of peachy-coral.

“I’m here, who’s first up?”

“Rock paper scissors, shoot!” Taeyoung shouts.

Woobin sighs and lifts his rock up to cover his face as he gets a hoard of laughs in his direction. So he is last.

There’s a balance to the order of getting their hair and makeup done, struggles in every place— the earlier you are the longer you have to protect it to avoid Seongmin’s wrath. Though the last place is always least desired: no one likes the wait or the rush. 

Minhee pats Woobin’s head as Woobin sinks further into the couch while Seongmin sets up on the vanity in front of Jungmo.

“Our poor Ruby,” he singsongs between laughs. 

“Minhee, lend me your napping powers,” Woobin begs, turning his head to look up at Minhee with what he hopes were successful puppy-dog eyes. He wonders whether that works on Minhee, the expert at puppy-dog eyes. It would be rather unfair for Minhee to be immune to his own powerful weapon. 

Minhee giggles and wiggles his fingers, moving his hands around above Woobin. He makes a silly ‘whoosh’ sound, trying to magically transfer his powers and it makes Woobin laugh. 

Jungmo and Taeyoung’s makeovers complete, Woobin still hasn’t fallen asleep so he deems the attempt to borrow Minhee’s skill of passing out anywhere and everywhere a failure. He’s already dressed in his stage outfit—skinny blue jeans and a flouncy white blouse—so he sits on his phone, hums vocal warm-ups to himself and eats a packet of crisps he took from Taeyoung’s bag (perfectly named ‘the snackpack’.)

Finally, the beloved words “Ruby-hyung!” are said and Woobin stands up, brushing off his blouse, and takes a seat in front of Seongmin. 

“I’m doing well on time.” Woobin taps Seongmin’s phone screen on the table. Still half an hour until curtain. “So we can do something fun,” Seongmin continues. 

Woobin smiles up at Seongmin, who’s squinting, analysing Woobin’s face. 

Seongmin smiles like he’s hit gold. “Icy blue shadow?”

Woobin grins at him. 

“I see that I’m icy,” he sings and does the hand move from Itzy’s choreo. Seongmin immediately joins in, doing Ryujin’s outro move. 

“Yes, please!” Woobin cheers. “That sounds pretty.”

Seongmin smiles. “It will be pretty. And you’re the only one who doesn’t whine when I use glitter.”

“So what I’m hearing is I’m your favourite model?”

Seongmin tuts as he starts on Woobin’s base. “Grow your hair out like Minhee-hyung and maybe then.” 

Minhee, passed out cold, sitting up-right by the other vanity, now has part of his white-blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, the rest of it down and brushing his shoulders. He does have the best hair of them by a landslide. 

“Fair point.”

Seongmin directs him to close his eyes so he does and sits as still as he can. 

“Oh!” Seongmin gasps after a while of silence. “I think my Seri-hyung is coming tonight!”

Woobin has yet to meet Seongmin’s ‘Seri-hyung’, though he has heard Seongmin mention him often. A long-time friend if Woobin recalls correctly. 

“I hope he enjoys,” Woobin smiles. 

Seongmin gasps for a second time and Woobin can feel him step back so he opens his eyes. 

“I’m a genius. You look so pretty, hyung.”

Woobin doesn’t have time to think before his chair is spun around to face the mirror. 

Wow. He does look pretty. 

He smiles at the way his eyes are surrounded by sparkly blue, like a little sea on his face. 

Seongmin is a genius. Minhee’s cheeks are as shiny as his hair, Allen’s have a purple tint. Jungmo’s eyes are rimmed with silver. Taeyoung’s eyeliner is bold and has the same hue as Woobin’s eyeshadow. 

Woobin smiles at him. “Thank you, baby!”

He makes a kissy face at Seongmin, who gasps again. 

“You need shiny lipgloss. Right now.”

Woobin isn’t going to argue. 

Woobin doesn’t quite understand how the lead-up to a gig can be so slow and uneventful and then the last ten minutes are utter chaos. He has been sent over to a storage room to get more water bottles because apparently, they ran out of water. 

How does one run out of water? He crouches down to pick up a few bottles. Couldn’t they just put the right amount of water bottles on stage at the start and call it a day? 

He stands up, turns around to start his run back to side-stage. No one here knows how to organise anything—

Two of the water bottles fall to the ground as Woobin bumps into something. Losing his balance from the impact, he almost joins the water bottles on the ground before he feels himself caught by two hands on his shoulders.

Woobin watches his feet as he rights himself, with the help of the grip on his shoulders, then looks up. 

He sees lips, stretched into a tiny, kind smile, and very pretty eyebrows. 

A moment later he registers just how close he is to this unfamiliar face and shuffles backwards, the arms on his shoulders falling.

He looks again, now, and sees raven black hair, a button-up white shirt, a jacket slung over one arm, and very cutely embroidered jeans.

Then the realisation hits Woobin that he just briskly walked straight into this stranger and he screams. Internally. Out loud he says, “Oh god.” Which isn’t that much better, he admits. 

The stranger laughs. “You alright?”

“Yes,” Woobin manages. Whether it’s true, Woobin will assess later. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” they smile and then they’re crouching.

Woobin is left wondering what is happening for a moment before the stranger stands again and holds something out for Woobin. 

“Here you go.”

Woobin looks down and oh. It’s the water bottles. That he dropped.

He shies as he takes back the bottles. “Thank you.”

Woobin looks up and the stranger is still smiling. Woobin looks at them and realises that they aren’t saying anything: that neither of them has said anything.

“Sorry,” he says, to say something. Also to apologise, but it doesn’t feel like an apology because he’s smiling.

“It’s okay,” the stranger laughs, small and perfect. “Are you sure you’re alright?” 

The more you ask that the less alright I feel. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” Woobin says. “I…” The stranger looks directly at him, waiting for him to speak. Words, Woobin. “I actually need to run.”

He is on stage in a stressfully short amount of time from now. 

The stranger grins and bows shortly. “Good luck!”

Woobin bows back quickly as he sprints back down the corridor.

“Woobin’s here let’s go—”

And they’re on. 

Three, two, one, Allen mouths to them, then presses the first key.

Like the day and night 

We run differently 

Middle is only for a moment 

The sound, the lights: they work as some sort of amnesiac, Woobin swears. It feels like two breaths and then it’s over.

Maybe it’s because they are breathing together as one when they play: all moments pulled together as one. 

Or maybe he’s just having fun: there’s that, too. So much fun it feels almost criminal. 

His ears are still buzzing, smiling to himself as he packs away his microphone as carefully as he can manage with shaking hands. 

It’s soon after the show that Woobin sees the stranger again. They’re standing at the stage door, coat on this time—a long coat, patchwork brown and orange. Woobin freezes up, caught between wanting to go up to them and say something—make a better impression than earlier—and wanting to run away. 

They’re a stranger, Woobin reminds himself. They probably don’t want to be bothered again by the random man who almost bulldozed them down in the hallway, even if they were extremely polite about it. 

Woobin thoughts are interrupted when the stranger’s face suddenly lights up.

A body, much smaller than the strangers, runs up to them and is immediately pulled into a hug, picked right up off the ground and spun around. Woobin watches the blur of silver that is the smaller person as they are lifted in the air, hears the surprised scream, and oh. 

It’s Seongmin.

The stranger’s gaze lit up at Seongmin. The person they hugged so tightly, swept off their feet, made laugh so brightly… is Seongmin. Woobin’s Seongmin. 

His heart flipped over itself and he grinned. Maybe the stranger isn’t that much of a stranger.

Woobin jumps in surprise when a hand meets his shoulder. Taeyoung snickers at him. 

“What are you even looking at?” 

Woobin realises then that he may have been standing in the door of the green room for a bit too long to go unnoticed. He turns his head to look at Taeyoung and sees that he’s already answered his question, now also seeing Seongmin being carefully put back down on his feet. 

Taeyoung meets Woobin’s eyes, grabs Woobin’s hand and walks out into the hall, Woobin’s stuttered complaints going unnoticed or rather ignored. 

“Seongminnie!” Taeyoung cheers. He drops Woobin’s hand to hold up both of his in a high-five to Seongmin. Too high, though, and Seongmin elbows his stomach before high-fiving the now lowered hands as Taeyoung winces.

“Ruby!” Seongmin screams in his giddy voice, holding both his arms up.

“Seongminnie!” Woobin matches. 

Seongmin runs to him and launches, trusting Woobin to catch him. Woobin squeezes him before letting him down. 

Taeyoung lifts an eyebrow and looks at Seongmin before shifting his gaze to the stranger.

“Are you going to introduce us?”

Seongmin giggles and steps closer to the stranger and hugs their arm. “This is my Seri-hyung!”

Oh. Seongmin’s Seri-hyung. 

He laughs. “Park Serim,” he corrects.

Park Serim. 

“Hyung, this is Taeyoung,” Seongmin continues, gesturing to Taeyoung who smiles brightly, charming as ever. 

“And that’s Woobin-hyung,” Seongmin says, grinning to Woobin. “He’s not your hyung, though,” he tells Serim. “A year younger.” 

Woobin looks at Serim and their eyes meet. 

“Hi,” Woobin smiles shyly and Serim returns the greeting. 

“Can I just say?” Serim starts and suddenly his eyes are shining, glancing between Woobin and Taeyoung. “You guys were so good! You are really talented.” 

Taeyoung bumps Woobin’s hip with his and Woobin laughs. 

“Seriously! So so good,” He rushes, trying to get all his words out before his next breath. “Your voice is amazing.” He directs that part towards Woobin.

Woobin’s cheeks lift. “Thank you.”

Serim’s cheeks pink like he’s embarrassed at how he spoke. 

He’s different from earlier: less suave and calm, and more bright and awkward. Not different, Woobin corrects himself. Just… more. 

“We’re glad you enjoyed the show,” Woobin says, speaking for both himself and Taeyoung, and glances to the side for Taeyoung to agree with him. Except Taeyoung wasn’t listening, and neither was Seongmin: the two of them having found yet another thing to argue about in the record time of five seconds. 

“Well…I am glad you enjoyed the show,” Woobin corrects. 

Serim laughs and it’s giddier than before. 

“I’ve never seen two people start an argument quicker than Wonjin and Hyeongjun,” Serim says quietly to himself, in wonder. 

Woobin knows it wasn’t for him but he asks anyway. “Wonjin and Hyeongjun?” 

“My friends with me tonight,” Serim explains. He puts his hands in his jacket pockets like he doesn’t know what else to do with them and it brings Woobin’s attention to the cute embroidered jeans once again, except now Woobin sees that the thread is the same orange as Serim’s jacket. Woobin doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

“Speaking of my friends, I better go find them,” Serim sighs, nodding to the stage doors behind him. “Nothing good happens if they’re left unsupervised for too long.” 

“I feel you there,” Woobin says as he side-eyes Taeyoung and Seongmin. Serim laughs again.

“I’m going, Seongmin,” Serim calls out and Seongmin is in his arms in an instant. 

“I’ll see you.” Serim waits to see them smile and wave back before leaving through the stage door again. 

And Woobin kind of hopes it’s not just a passing phrase—a more casual goodbye. That he actually will see him again.

Seongmin bumps his hip against Woobin’s as Woobin is washing his face in the bathroom of his, Minhee, and Seongmin’s shared apartment. Woobin straightens up and sees Seongmin waving a face-mask packet in front of him. 

“I opened a pack of three,” Seongmin explains. Woobin snorts, knowing that Minhee is probably asleep right now with a mask on and Seongmin will just take it off his sleeping face whenever it’s done masking. 

Woobin reaches for a towel to dry his face and sits on the edge of the bath to let Seongmin put on the mask. He hums as Seongmin opens the packet and closes his eyes when Seongmin starts to place it on his face. 

“It was nice for you guys to meet Serim-hyung,” Seongmin says cutely while he pushes the mask over Woobin’s nose. “I should bring him around again.”

Woobin smiles as much as the mask allows him to. 

When Woobin walks into their rehearsal space and finds Minhee with two pigtails in his hair, standing behind Taeyoung sitting on the couch and tying Taeyoung’s fifteenth pigtail, he contemplates walking back out again but sighs and perches on the arm of the couch that isn’t taken up by the hairdressing. 

Yes, they are a well-respected, up-and-coming band. Yes, this is a normal enough scene to find walking into their rehearsal space.

“Taeyoung, you look ridiculous,” Woobin says because Taeyoung looks ridiculous.

“Why, thank you.” Taeyoung does the face he always does where he squints and bites his lip and Woobin slaps Taeyoung’s leg.

“I feel like you two show up early just to cause trouble before we start practising.” 

Minhee pauses as he’s tying another pigtail, this one in the middle of Taeyoung’s crown so it stands straight up. “What makes you think that?” 

Before Woobin can even roll his eyes, he hears the heavy front door of the room being pushed open.

“I’m here, bitches,” Allen announces as he slides into the rehearsal space, backpack over one shoulder and an iced coffee in his hand. 

The second door opens, this one coming from the side room of the studio; Jungmo walks towards them with an open crisp packet in his hands. 

“And I’ve been here the whole time,” Jungmo says and Woobin can see he has two pigtails, matching Minhee’s. He stands beside Minhee and tilts the crisps towards Minhee who starts eating them himself. 

Woobin slides down from the arm of the couch to sit on the cushion. Allen sits on the floor in front of the couch. 

“We have the gig on Thursday,” Allen starts, opening his phone with one hand, looking at their schedule. “One cover, one original is the set-up.”

They all sit in thought for a moment before throwing out suggestions. 

“Ruby, do you wanna do Gravity?”  Taeyoung asks, poking Woobin’s leg with his foot.

“When would I ever turn down some Taeyeon,” Woobin grins. A few of them snort, knowing well that Woobin lives and dies by Taeyeon. 

“For an original, how about Everything Has Changed?” Woobin suggests. He looks over to where Jungmo and Minhee are standing beside each other. “If the cover is going to be my solo, you two should duet for the original.”

Jungmo turns to put his face close to Minhee’s, their noses almost touching, and he grins. 

“I just wanna know you better,” Jungmo sings, still grinning so it sounds silly. 

Minhee smiles and pushes Jungmo away with a poke on his nose. “I’m down for that.” 

“Are we set then?” Allen asks, answered by nods from everyone.

“Oh!” Taeyoung gasps, getting everyone’s attention. “We have an after-party!” He sing-songs ‘party’ and does his best attempt at twerking while sitting down. 

“They’ve organised an ‘afters’ event,” Taeyoung continues. “House party vibes.”

Jungmo cheers and starts dancing, also. Their pigtails flop around, making them look ridiculous. Not that they wouldn’t look ridiculous without the pigtails: they always, always do. 

Woobin is nervous. There is the added pressure of trying to uphold the honour of Queen Taeyeon, so the nervousness is valid, but he still feels sick to the stomach. To distract himself he focuses on the positives, namely his makeup. Today, Seongmin has covered him in hot pink today, strong and shimmery around his eyes, and a paler tone on his cheeks. His hair is curled and fluffy, parts pulled back behind his ears.

Woobin embraces his inner Jungmo: when you’re stressed just remember how pretty you are and forget about it. He allows himself a little chuckle. 

“Time to go, handsome.” 

Allen appears next to him in the mirror and Woobin jumps slightly before he’s coerced towards the door. 

“You’ll be great, Ruby,” Allen says, his smile honest as it always is. “You always are.”

The lights hit him straight on when he stands upstage on his own and all he sees is white. He closes his eyes and waits for Allen. 

The keys sound from his right. He thinks of miniworld, of Taeyeon, and sings. 

For Everything Has Changed, Jungmo and Minhee stand front and centre on the stage, Woobin further back with Minhee’s bass in his hands. Although there’s this feeling like an itch on the back of his neck that he’s not where he’s used to being, it’s a nice change to be behind someone. He can look at Minhee and Jungmo’s backs and know that they’re here.

Jungmo starts the song and Woobin looks at him, watches how he looks at the audience or his acoustic guitar not even half as much as he looks at Minhee beside him. Woobin plays his part and looks at Minhee, so aware of Jungmo’s gaze on him and not shying away. 

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

Woobin looks and sees a face in the crowd and thinks it’s Serim. The lights move and blur his vision. He keeps his gaze steady and waits until he can see the face again. 

It is him, eyes wide watching the performance, a small sweet smile on his face. He’s here again. When Serim meets his eyes he smiles in recognition.

The after party is in a basement bar, the dark space lit up by coloured LED lights and thrifted lamps. There are mismatched couches scattered around the room and the ceilings are low enough that Minhee almost hit his head walking in. 

They each wander around the place, finding friends and making them. 

Woobin glances around and mentally marks a few people he recognises that he can talk to. Though, he decides heading to the bar is the safest place to start. Drink first, then socialise. 

Woobin turns around quickly and for the second time this week, almost face-plants after bumping into someone. He stumbles but manages to keep himself on his feet. He lifts his head when he hears a laugh and…oh. 

“One of these days we’ll meet each other without you almost falling over,” Serim grins. He carefully pats where his hand is on Woobin’s arm before dropping it.

“I promise I’m not always like this,” Woobin snorts. 

“Just can’t stay on your feet around me, huh?” Serim teases.

Woobin rolls his eyes, then looks at the floor. It’s like he’s talking to Taeyoung, though Serims words are smoother than anything Taeyoung has ever managed to squeak out in an attempt to flirt.

“Thank you. Again,” Woobin says. 

Serim smiles in reply. “I was actually looking for you, anyway.”

Woobin scrunches his face in confusion. “Me?”

“I… don’t know anyone here except miniworld,” Serim says, shier than before.

Woobin pauses and looks at a strand of Serim’s hair that shines in the coloured light of the room. He wonders if Serim put glitter on it. 

“Do you want to sit down?”

“Your set was amazing today, again,” Serim praises. 

He’s sitting on the couch, leaning half against the back of the couch and half against the armrest, his body turned towards Woobin. His cherry cider bottle sits in one hand, the other arm resting on top of the couch back. 

Woobin smiles, “Thank you.”

“The way you sang Gravity,” Serim continues, gesturing with the bottle-clad hand. “…it was so lovely. The song itself is amazing and in the moment, you just elevated it.” 

Woobin grins, “Are you just gonna compliment me every time we meet?”

“Maybe I will!” Serim argues. “The fundamentals of the Woobin-Serim budding friendship will be me complimenting you and you almost falling over.”

Woobin glares at him and Serim laughs. Woobin’s happy to watch him laugh.

At that moment, Woobin sees Allen making his way over to them. He perches on the couch arm on Woobin’s side and sends a small wave to Serim, introducing himself. 

Serim barely gets through his response before there’s a squeal and Seongmin launches at Serim in a hug. With Serim sitting down, he ends up with Seongmin partly in his lap. 

The rest of miniworld also wander over, Serim greeting them as much as he could while holding Seongmin and his cider. Taeyoung pulls over two seats: he sits on one and Jungmo takes the other, Minhee on his lap. 

“Are Wonjin and Hyeongjun hyungs here, too?” Seongmin asks Serim, who nods.

“I have no idea where, though,” Serim confesses. “I’ll text them to find us.”

Seongmin humphs and Woobin knows he’s just whining for the sake of it.

Serim seems to know too because he laughs quietly and says, “I know you love them.”

“They are chaotic,” Seongmin says and it sounds like a warning.

Woobin realises almost immediately what Seongmin means and his warning did not prepare him for Hyeongjun and Wonjin. 

The two join the group and introduce themselves: Wonjin has short, ashy hair and a huge smile and has an arm around Hyeongjun beside him who has wide eyes and fluffy brown hair.

“So,” Wonjin begins, getting the attention of the whole group like he’s about to direct a class. “The burning question on everyone’s minds: when are you going to hire us to be your backup dancers?”

And dance they do. Wonjin starts twerking and Hyeongjun is flailing his arms and Woobin laughs in surprise. Allen is giggling and Taeyoung is clutching his stomach. He sees Serim cover his face with his hand and try to hide behind Seongmin and Woobin laughs louder. 

“Don’t let him fool you,” Wonjin nags, gesturing at Serim. “He normally joins in.”

The group dissolves and reforms throughout the evening, though Woobin and Serim stay on the couch. Woobin doesn’t want to move and Serim doesn’t leave him alone for any longer than the trip to the bar and back. 

They’re interrupted often: by Serim’s friends wanting his attention, Serim checking in on them each time; or by Minhee recharging with his head on Woobin’s shoulder. In between, Serim asks him questions and Woobin talks and talks. He asks Woobin about his friends and he talks. He asks Woobin about his music and he talks.

It’s later, once he’s at home and tired and content, that Woobin realises he still knows nothing about Serim. Well, not exactly. He knows that Serim can’t multitask well, considering the way his cherry cider sat still in his hand while he listened to Woobin. He knows that he tilts his head back when he laughs suddenly. He tilts forward to laugh shyly when he’s aware of it. His laughs are quiet most of the time, just a big smile. 

He knows that Serim’s good to his friends, if embarrassed by them. He suspects Serim is just as embarrassing. He knows he wants to see that.

When Woobin hears a sudden hit of a snare drum, he jumps from where he’s sitting on the rehearsal room couch and looks over to the drum kit. 

Instead of Taeyoung sitting behind the drums, he sees Seongmin, drumsticks in his hand with his shoulders bunched up and his eyes wide, obviously also surprised by the noise he made. 

Woobin grins at him as he attempts a few more hits on the cymbals. He has to stop himself from laughing with the back of his hand when he notices Minhee nudging Taeyoung forward, who shyly walks over to Seongmin to stand behind him. 

Taeyoung carefully positions himself to hold Seongmin’s hands, holding the sticks, and drum with him. This lasts about four seconds until Seongmin laughs brightly and suddenly and then Woobin can only see the top of Taeyoung’s head from where he’s on the ground behind the drum kit. 

“Bye-bye, Youngtae!” Minhee teases, waving his hand in the general direction of where Taeyoung is on the floor, and Woobin cackles. Seongmin, smiling wide with glances at Taeyoung, puts the drumsticks on the seat and wanders over to sit next to Woobin. 

“Hey, Seongminnie.” He pokes Seongmin’s cheek, grinning at him.

Seongmin sends a glare his way and rubs his cheek, getting rid of all the Woobin-germs.

Seongmin sinks into the couch so his head is level with Woobin’s shoulder.

“Serim-hyung was whining that he forgot to ask for your number the other night,” Seongmin turns his head to look up at Woobin. “Will I give him your number?”

Woobin smiles and lifts his arm up and around Seongmin to ruffle his hair. 

“Yes, please.”

Seongmin turns back to his phone and Woobin picks up his own phone and pretends to be doing something on it. He thanks Seongmin for being so small that he can’t see Woobin just slide between the pages of his home screen without clicking any apps. 

Serim wants my number. Swipe. Serim wants to talk to me more. Swipe. 

Will staring at the messaging app make a text come sooner? 

He almost drops his phone when the drums are hit again. He snorts when he sees Minhee behind the drums, Jungmo’s head barely able to peer over his shoulder from where Minhee is sitting on his lap. 

“So, this is the high-hat here,” Jungmo says and then their intertwined hands move the stick to hit the crash cymbal. Minhee wheezes and flings his head forward, his hair flying everywhere. 

Woobin cackles and collapses half onto Seongmin. Allen is giggling. Taeyoung, who had managed to pick himself up off the floor, crouches with his head in his hands.

“That is so incorrect but you two are so cute.” Taeyoung wipes away some laugh tears from under his eyes. “I am conflicted.” 

Minhee grins wide, proud to be cute and incorrect. 

“Taeyoung, please go take your drums back,” Woobin snorts. “We have to eventually get some work done.”

Seongmin pats Woobin’s shoulder and nods in agreement. “And I will nap.”

Woobin puts his hands in his coat pockets to escape the cold air as he watches the backs of Seongmin and Minhee as they walk home, a few steps ahead of Woobin. The sky is dark at this point but Seongmin and Minhee’s hair illuminate as brightly as the street lamps, one more silver, one more white.

He feels his phone vibrate against his hand and shuffles it out of his pocket, shaking his arm to make his sleeve cover as much of his hand as he can. 

hi woobin, this is serim

…

Another buzz. 

seongminnie gave me your number! 

how are you?

Woobin smiles, takes out his other hand from his pocket to type.

hi!!!

I’m good, just walking home from practice

what are you practising?? do I get any spoilers? 👀

Woobin snorts. 

not without my lawyer here 💔 

you’d have to sign a waiver 

He glances up and follows Seongmin and Minhee around the corner: only a block away from their flat now.

where is elle woods when you need her 💔

With a smile, Woobin pockets his phone and catches up to the others as they reach their building. His hands are cold as he opens the door so he puts them against Minhee’s cheeks and watches him squirm. 

Miniworld life rolls on as usual: rehearsals most days, a gig every week or so. Serim comes to a lot of them, Hyeongjun and Wonjin with him most of the time. In between it all, his days are scattered with texts from Serim: mostly photos of dogs he saw on the street and texts wishing him luck on shows, sent along with photos of the three of them in the venue. 

He gets one of those photos tonight, giggling as Seongmin brushes orange blush onto his cheeks. 

“Tell them to come to the door!” Seongmin cheers as he turns back to his makeup case, wiggling his hand in search of the next brush he needs. “I’m almost done now, I can go bring them back here.” 

Woobin swings his head up when he hears the door push open. Seongmin makes his way back to his makeup area, leaving Serim at the door to shyly smile and greet them, Wonjin and Hyeongjun behind him.

“Hello,” Woobin says. Serim is wearing an oversized denim jacket, the sleeves covering all but the tips of his fingers. Woobin smiles. 

“Hi,” Serim returns.

“Hi!” Hyeongjun screeches. 

Woobin feels this tingle rush up his neck as he watches Hyeongjun and Wonjin pile into the dressing room, Serim dragged along in their wake, and scatter themselves amongst miniworld. Woobin listens to the greetings fly between them, the polite starting of conversations. 

The room is tiny. The nine of them couldn’t fit comfortably alone, never mind the clothes racks and guitar cases taking up much of the space. Only half of them have actual seats, Hyeongjun is sitting on Serim’s lap, Minhee on Jungmo’s. Taeyoung and Wonjin are on the floor. 

Wonjin makes a joke, testing the waters. They laugh, none as loud as Hyeongjun. Woobin flinches from the sound but smiles as he sees Hyeongjun shy back into Serim’s hold.

Woobin watches Serim fall into a conversation with Allen and Jungmo. He laughs at something Jungmo says and he hugs Hyeongjun closer as he bounces his legs in time with his laughs. The tingling doesn’t go away. 

Later, they part again: Serim, Hyeongjun, Wonjin, and Seongmin file into the audience, miniworld take their place on the stage. Woobin sings.

Hi, hello

Whenever I say this to you, the word excites me.

It feels different, today. The little shell of nerves that sits just by his stomach is shaking a bit more: igniting his emotions whether nerves or excitement. He’s familiar with this feeling, but today there’s something new about it. 

Woobin hasn’t had a lot of ‘new’ in his life for a while. He has never found some faces in the crowd that he recognises and knows he’s going to see again. That he wants to see again. He has his routine, his daily life. He says ‘hello’ just about five times each day, one for each person beside him he loves. Now he’s starting to smile hellos a few times more. 

He looks to his left. Minhee doesn’t see him. He’s not looking down, not monitoring each note he plays. He’s looking out at the crowd and his fingers move without him watching them. 

Woobin sits on the rehearsal room couch, his legs pulled up for him to lean on while writing. At least that was the plan but he is staring at a blank page. 

It’s a lull in their rehearsal session, having ordered lunch and being too hungry and tired to work until the food arrives. Allen, Jungmo, and Taeyoung are in the side room playing a video game. Minhee sits beside Woobin on the couch, half asleep with his head pillowed by the back cushion.

Woobin hasn’t been able to finish the lyrics to a new song, and he needs to, the empty lines sitting on his consciousness for too long. So he stays where he is, pen and notebook in hand. 

His phone buzzes and he stretches out his legs to manoeuvre it out of his pocket. 

Serim-hyung

how are you?

He smiles, then sighs. His text back is whiney, full of crying emojis.

:((( 

do you want to go on a walk? 

“Minhee,” Woobin says, quietly, to not startle him. 

Minhee opens his eyes, slowly, towards Woobin but stays where he is. 

“I’m going on a walk.” Woobin slides the notebook and pen into his tote bag by his feet before looking back to Minhee. 

“Do you want us to come with?” Minhee mumbles, then yawns. Woobin smiles. As if Minhee could stand up right now, let alone walk.

“No, it’s okay.”

Minhee’s eyes close again, maybe against his control. “I’ll call you when the food is here.”

Woobin kisses his cheek with a small “thank you” and dashes to the door.

Woobin waits outside the building for a few minutes, checking his phone every while for Serim’s updates as he walks to meet Woobin. The weather is still, warm for March without the wind. Woobin can feel the sun against his back, warming his hoodie so it feels like a hug. 

“Woobin!” 

He turns around and sees Serim walking his way. His walking turns into the awkward little half-run you do when you’re catching up to someone. Woobin grins. 

He’s wearing a long coat, this one thin and grey and pink, with a white t-shirt underneath. He’s wearing glasses, black framed just at the top, and there’s a sun glare on the lenses when Woobin looks at him.

“Hi, hyung.”

Serim smiles. 

Serim lets him complain, listens while they walk in tandem. Woobin has no idea where they’re going and he doesn’t think Serim knows either. At the dozenth hum of understanding from Serim, Woobin finds he doesn’t want to complain anymore. He asks about Serim’s day as they turn a corner.

“It’s been nice.” Woobin watches Serim smile. “I got off work early.”

A vintage boutique, Woobin recalls. He can picture Serim working there. His pretty coats and his friendly smile.

“This weather makes me happy,” Serim says. 

Woobin agrees. 

He looks down at their feet and holds back a laugh. Next to his sneakers, teal and cream with frayed threads, walks Serim’s, pristine white and platformed. No wonder he had been looking up to meet Serim’s eyes.

Woobin hears Serim gasp and swings his head up to see him. He’s got his mouth hung open and his bushy eyebrows are raised, scrunching his forehead. Woobin almost has time to call it cute before Serim speaks. 

“Cherry blossoms.” 

Woobin then registers that Serim is pointing to something and he looks. 

The trees lining the pavement they’re walking down gradate from green to pink: just a few more steps and they’re beside the cherry blossoms. They keep walking. There aren’t any petals on the ground ahead yet, the cherry blossoms are still early in their bloom it seems. He sees the line in the pavement and he looks up and steps into the pink. 

“They’re so pretty,” Woobin comments, straining his neck to see the flowers. 

Serim hums. “I always love this time of year.” 

Woobin hums back. 

He sees the pink against the blue of the sky and a song comes to mind. Cherry Blossom Ending. He sings. 

As the spring wind blows, the scattering cherry blossom petals spread out on this street as we walk together.

The wind is still now. The petals are still above them. Cherry Blossom Beginning. 

He turns his head to talk again, about the song, about the trees, and Serim is looking at him. He smiles and doesn’t say a thing. 

They walk in quiet for a while. Their pace has slowed. Right before Woobin gets the itch to start a conversation, his phone rings.

He takes it out of his pocket, sees ‘Mini<3’ on the screen and answers it.

He hears a scream down the line and he quickly brings his phone away from his ear until the scream ceases. 

“Hi, Minhee,” he says, as monotone as he can manage. With his now deafened ear, he can’t hear Serim giggle but he can see it. 

“Food is here,” Minhee says, voice muffled by what Woobin assumes is said food in his mouth. 

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.”

Woobin hangs up the call, putting his phone in his pocket before looking back up at Serim. 

“I should go back now or Minhee will eat my lunch.” 

Serim laughs. He can hear it this time. 

“I’ll walk you back.”

Minhee managed to resist eating all of Woobin’s lunch, but Woobin is convinced he stole some of his garlic bread. He won’t bring it up, of course. Minhee can take what he wants.

“Ah!” Allen exclaims, looking at something on his phone, getting their attention. “We got a slot for the summer festival! They just sent me confirmation.” 

Everyone followed with screams, dropping their lunch to check their phones, too.

“Is that a 30-minute set?” Minhee asks. He had put his lunch down for a moment to check his phone, but he is once again stuffing a dumpling into his mouth. 

Allen nods, taking a sip of his iced coffee. 

“Four months time, besties!” Taeyoung cheers, waving around the hand that isn’t holding his phone.

“We should write some new songs for it, then?” Jungmo looks to Woobin, who nods in agreement. 

“I’m sure the two of us can have that sorted,” Woobin grins to Jungmo, laughs when Jungmo winks back. 

It’s only a week later when he sees Serim again. 

He’s sitting on a chair by the dressing room vanity, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. It’s a swivel chair, too, so he’s spinning himself side to side as he does. 

With their sound check done, they’re left to their own devices to wait for Seongmin and then the show itself. Minhee lays on the couch, half asleep with his head in Jungmo’s lap and his legs trapping Allen against the couch like a seatbelt. Taeyoung is sitting on the other vanity chair, spinning around rather more vigorously than Woobin. 

He flicks his head up when the door clicks open and Seongmin waddles in. Someone follows him in, carrying Seongmin’s second makeup case, and Woobin smiles when he sees that it’s Serim. 

“Serim!” Jungmo cheers. Taeyoung and Allen follow with cheers of their own as Minhee slowly moves himself to sit up, confused and dishevelled. 

“Hey!” Serim laughs and waves to each of them. He gets to Woobin last and scrunches his nose before dropping his hand. Woobin grins. 

Seongmin starts to set up on one side of Woobin and Serim leans against the counter on the other side, facing the group as he speaks. 

“It’s just me here today,” he explains. “So I am Seongmin’s assistant.” 

“Does that mean Wonjin isn’t here?” Taeyoung whines, sniffing and wiping away a fake tear. “My bestie…”

Woobin laughs. Wonjin and Taeyoung have only met a handful of times and yet they seem to have already become sworn partners in crime. Woobin is slightly terrified of them together. 

“I’ll tell him you missed him,” Serim smiles. 

Woobin hears the rustling of Seongmin rooting through his makeup cases before he speaks up.

“Did you rock paper scissors yet?” Seongmin asks. 

Taeyoung shouts out the countdown and miniworld all swing their hands out to the middle of the room. It takes three tries before there’s only rocks and paper played, Jungmo and Taeyoung whining over their defeat. The three of them left go another round and Woobin shouts when he wins, raising his victorious scissors in the air to celebrate. He looks over to Serim and giggles at the confused look on his face.

“Perfect! You’re already here,” Seongmin noted, opening up the toner bottle to pour it onto a cotton pad. 

“Is that a miniworld ritual I just witnessed?” Serim’s laughing as he asks it.

Woobin looks at him with just his eyes, keeping his face still for Seongmin.

“Yes, you should be honoured!” Woobin jeers. “Not many people get to see it.”

Serim puts a hand on his chest and bows, “I am truly honoured.”

Woobin giggles and Seongmin rubs the cotton pad over the apple of his cheek, risen up from his smile.

“What colour should I do Ruby-hyung’s eyes?” Seongmin asks Serim. 

Serim’s eyes blow wide. “Me?” He points to his chest. “I can choose?”

Both Serim and Seongmin look towards Woobin for an answer, for permission. Woobin nods and looks to Serim to assure him. 

“Of course.”

“What about…purple?” Serim says hesitantly. He doesn’t look away from Woobin as he slowly gets out each word. “With your gold hair…I think it would look pretty.” 

Woobin smiles and he can see Serim relax and smile back shyly.

“Purple!” Seongmin cheers, giddy and rushing his words. “I have gold-y highlight and blush, too! We can make you very gold,” he promises.

Woobin smiles and closes his eyes, letting Seongmin smooth foundation around them. “I believe you.”

“Hyung, can you get my angled brush for me?” Seongmin says a moment later while he is, Woobin assumes, purple-ing Woobin’s eyes. 

“I definitely know which one that is,” Serim asserts, slightly under his breath. 

Woobin snorts as he hears the clatter of presumably Serim searching through the makeup case. Once the noise stops, Woobin opens his eyes to see Serim holding out an array of makeup brushes for Seongmin to choose the correct one from. 

Seongmin plucks out one of the brushes and turns back to Woobin, eyeshadow pallet in his other hand. “Thank you, assistant!”

Woobin closes his eyes again as Seongmin continues.

“Can you do something else for me?” Seongmin peeps. 

“What is it?”

“Get me a drink from the vending machine?” 

Woobin snorts. 

“Alright,” Serim sighs, but Woobin can bet he’s smiling from the sound of it. “Does anyone else want something?” Serim offers louder.

“I’ll go with you,” Allen jumps up. A moment later Woobin can hear the door close. 

He feels the pressure from the brush on his eyelids lift so opens them to find Seongmin picking up a new brush.

“You and Serim-hyung are so friendly,” Seongmin says, motioning for Woobin to close his eyes again. “It’s really nice.” 

“I will need to powder you again, though,” he whispers. “You’re looking less gold and more pink.”

Woobin opens his eyes to glare at Seongmin and hit Seongmin’s leg before he’s reprimanded to close his eyes again.

They had a two-song set today: Woobin leading Young, and Jungmo, Sooo Lucky.

He smiles as they walk on, taking their places like clockwork. He feels the heat of white lights and hopes he looks as gold as he did in the yellow-tinted dressing room. 

He finds Serim in the crowd easily enough and finds him looking back. Woobin smiles at him, and at Seongmin wedged beside him.

His boys play, he sings: like clockwork. Woobin finds his eyes trailing back to Serim now and again and Serim is smiling and smiling and maybe Woobin’s cheeks are more rose than gold.

They join the crowd after their set to watch the other bands, slot in beside Seongmin and Serim. Seongmin sends them each a smile and quickly captures Allen in his arms, hugging him from behind. Seongmin’s chin is tucked over Allen’s shoulder and Woobin almost cries, only stopped by Serim’s compliments, sweet and earnest as usual. 

Woobin’s standing on one side of Serim, the rest of the group on Serim’s other side. Serim turns to him after each song and says something Woobin can hardly hear. They laugh and Woobin leans closer so Serim can say it again. 

Woobin adjusts his headphones over his hoodie and turns the volume up to hear it through the fabric as he steps out of the door of their apartment building. The headphones are bright orange, covered in stickers from Taeyoung attacking them, and he knows he definitely looks stupid with them over his hood, but he sacrifices that in order to protect his ears from the cold evening air. 

It’s a short walk over to the nearest convenience store, he’s made this trip many times on movie nights in their flat like tonight. Most of the time he would have someone with him, but Seongmin and Minhee were already in their pyjamas and Taeyoung called guest rights on behalf of himself, Allen, and Jungmo. Woobin curses himself for not foreseeing the reason Seongmin and Minhee put their pyjamas on at 5 pm. 

Let’s just say the world ended a week from now

What would you do? What would you do?

He hums along as he comes up to the store, steps into the pool of neon light reflected on the ground and steps in the door. He looks up and sees the back of a figure, browsing the first aisle. Their jacket is a mash of blue-purple-pink florals, bright against the darkness of their hair and, oh. 

“Serim-hyung?” Woobin moves his headphones down around his neck.

The person turns around and yes, it is Serim.

“Ruby!” Serim cheers and holds his arms out.

Ruby. 

He blinks once, twice. Serim is still there, holding his arms out for a hug. Woobin runs into them. 

“What are you doing here?” Serim asks. He’s talking loud, striking in the silence of the store, empty except them, Woobin thinks. He doesn’t mind: presses the off-button on his headphones. 

“Movie night,” Woobin replies. “I’ve been sent out to get snacks.”

Serim ‘ah’s in understanding. “Very important job.” 

“I take it very seriously,” Woobin nods. Serim snorts. “I’m the only one of them to be trusted in regard to snacks. You would not believe the horror I have seen.” 

“I guess snack choices are very telling of a person to you," Serim laughs. “I wonder if I will pass your judgment.” 

Woobin crosses his arms and looks at him, daring him to give it a try. He has to look up. Serim is in his platform sneakers again. 

Serim smirks and starts walking to a different aisle, gesturing for Woobin to follow him. Woobin giggles and follows. 

Serim stops by the shelf filled with crisps, reaches up and takes down a packet. He brandishes the packet of cheesy crisps to Woobin with a bow as if he was offering a sword. Woobin bites back a laugh to play along, inspecting the snack of its quality.

Woobin does a final hum of approval, cut short by a laugh. “Your chosen snack has passed my judgement. You survive for today.”

Serim lets out a gasp of relief, hand on his chest, and Woobin laughs loudly. 

“Anything cheesy, I will love,” Serim explains. 

“So a good rom-com, then?” 

Serim laughs, louder than Woobin has ever heard it. The joke was so silly, and Serim… is so silly. 

Woobin walks around the store collecting snack after snack. Serim follows him, seemingly content with just his cheesy crisps. After Woobin tries to balance a bag of jellies on top of the pile of snacks in his arm, Serim offers to carry some of them. Woobin thanks him with a smile.

Woobin reaches up to grab a packet of mint-chocolate cookies from the top shelf and shivers. 

“These are for Seongmin and Jungmo,” Woobin clarifies. “I would never.”

Serim giggles. “Seongmin will never shut up about that.” 

He will not. Woobin loves him, despite his questionable tastes. Serim… also loves him. 

Woobin continues his shop, looking back at Serim behind him who takes the snacks to hold for Woobin right as Woobin pulls them from the shelves. He hurries the rest, happy to have the snacks in the tote bag on his arm and Serim walking beside him as they leave.

Woobin instinctually starts to walk in his direction home and Serim walks with him a few steps before Woobin realises and stills.

“I’ve probably delayed you loads, I’m sorry.” 

“You’re okay, you haven’t delayed me,” Serim assures. “I really had no other plans than eating my crisps, you have positively affected my evening.”

He smiles so Woobin smiles back.

“Can I walk you home?” Serim asks. 

Woobin nods. “If you want to.”

Serim grins and starts walking again. Woobin catches up. 

“Of course, I want to,” Serim scoffs. “Who wouldn’t want to hang out with the most popular miniworld member?” 

Serim’s tone is teasing but lighthearted and Woobin cackles, half from the joke, half from disagreement.

“You’re not the favourite, then?” Serim has the courtesy to sound surprised.

“No,” Woobin laughs. “Of course, it’s Minhee. He’s everyone’s favourite.”

“Maybe he’s my favourite, too.” He says it with a smirk and looks at Woobin from the side, waiting for a reaction. 

And despite himself, Woobin pouts. 

He sees Serim look to the ground. In the dim light, he thinks he sees a smile.

“Maybe you’re the lucky one,” Serim suggests. “Getting to hang out with your most dashingly handsome fan.” 

As he says it, flicking imaginary hair off his shoulder, his foot knocks against an empty can on the ground and he jumps from the sound of it. 

Woobin’s heart flips on its side.

Woobin walks slower than he did on the way to the store. Still, they come to the point where his hand can reach out and pull open the building door without him moving. Serim stands in front of him, glowing under the reception lights shining through the glass. 

“Thank you,” Woobin says. “For walking me.”

Serim’s answer is just a smile. “I like hanging out with you.”

Woobin replies without a second of silence. “Me, too.”

Silence comes after but it’s the gentle kind.

“I was really glad you bumped into me that day,” Serim breathed. “I was hoping we could meet without Seongmin awkwardly bringing me to your dressing room or something.”

Woobin laughed for a beat and then quietened. 

“Wait, why me?”

Serim looks at him and he’s still smiling. 

“I said you are my favourite, did I not?”

Woobin hears his own voice in an echo, a moment after the words left his mouth. He only says a simple ‘do you want to come in?’ but, after the rebound off the cold air and the man in front of him, when it gets back to his ears it sounds like a just as simple but different, ‘will you stay with me?’.

Woobin tries to stop thinking about it. It’s nothing as big as his thoughts are making it. He’s not alone, Minhee is here, of course, Jungmo attached to his side, as much a part of this apartment as the couch they’re curled up on. Taeyoung and Allen are here, a popcorn bowl balanced on both their laps. Seongmin is here too, who knows Serim better than Woobin does. 

He corrects himself. It’s not a ‘will you stay with me?’, it’s a ‘will you join me somewhere where my heart is loud and I am home?’ 

Woobin finds he doesn’t mind that. Serim fits in quite well.

Woobin sits in the living room of their apartment, curled up comfortably on one side of the couch, absentmindedly watching the show Seongmin put on on their TV: something animated that Woobin is losing track of, having seen no previous episodes of. He runs a hand through his hair, still wet from his shower, and wipes it on his leg.

Seongmin sits in the armchair, knees pulled up to his chest, glasses perched on his nose, and his fringe lifted off his face with a hair roller. He’s still in his pyjamas, orange tie-dye shorts and a jersey with Kuromi on it. 

Minhee is sitting on the other end of the couch, in his pyjamas, too—an oversized sweater and checkered pants. Jungmo sits on the floor by Minhee’s feet, fully dressed in a neon green cardigan and baggy jeans as he arrived at their door an hour or so ago for breakfast. Minhee, messy-haired and yawning, had wandered into the kitchen to find Jungmo there, making him cereal. 

“Jungmo,” Minhee calls, tapping Jungmo’s shoulder in front of him. Jungmo twists around to listen brightly. 

“Could you get me a snack?” Minhee finishes, a cheeky grin on his face paired with his pleading eyes. 

Where Woobin at least pretends to fight against Minhee’s demands, Jungmo doesn’t have an impolite bone in his body. Or a single molecule that could say no to Minhee.

Jungmo stands up from the floor with a smile and looks down at Minhee. 

“Anything for you, princess,” Jungmo says.

Woobin shoots his head to the side, looks between the two of them and fights back a laugh. Jungmo is standing with a nervous smile, and Minhee is trying to sink into the couch cushions. His cheeks are pink and he is curling in on himself but he isn’t looking away from Jungmo.

“Priminicess,” Woobin offers. He giggles to himself.

“Priminicess!” Jungmo screams. His nervousness immediately taken over by excitement over the joke. “You’re my priminicess!”

Woobin sees Minhee blink and very quietly, in a whisper, say: “Please go get me my snack.”

Jungmo kisses Minhee’s forehead and skips away towards the kitchen.

Woobin lets out the laugh he’s been holding, hitting the couch arm as he leans forward.

Minhee covers his face. He’s an entire ball now, with his knees touching the backs of his hands as he hides behind them.

“Just give me a moment.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Woobin teases, opening his phone and looking down at it with a smile.

Seongmin audibly shivers from his perch on the armchair and Woobin jumps, having forgotten he was there for a moment. 

“That was disgusting,” Seongmin announces. “I am disgusted.” 

Jungmo returns to his seat on the floor, Minhee is newly snacked, and Seongmin and Woobin also sit with individual little bowls of grapes, because Jungmo is that much of a sweetheart. Jungmo didn’t get one for himself, but Minhee leans down, bowl in hand, to share with Jungmo every few seconds. 

His phone buzzes as he puts a grape in his mouth.

Seri-hyung

*sent an image*

He clicks on the notification, moves his other hand to hold his phone as well. 

The chat opens up and Woobin can see the image, an advertisement for a vintage market event. Woobin watches the three dots appear and waits.

Seri-hyung 

do you want to go with me?

There are no rehearsals today. Allen and Taeyoung are busy. Minhee and Jungmo are going out on a date, he thinks. And… yeah. Yeah. He really does want to.

Until he’s standing in front of his wardrobe and then what do you even wear going vintage clothes shopping with a man with pretty coats and cool shoes and perfect eyebrows who works in a vintage shop?

He sees his sweater vest, purple patterned with pink flowers, folded on his bed: Seongmin must’ve decided to return it to him today, he laughs. He pairs it with denim shorts and sneakers with lights around the heel, a present from Seongmin on his last birthday.  They don’t work very well in the brightness of the afternoon, but they still make him smile.

Serim’s waiting on the corner of the street he said to meet at when Woobin arrives. He’s standing in the sun, outside a coffee shop, in a bright pink hoodie, black shorts, and sunglasses. He waves once he sees Woobin, running over to Woobin’s side of the street to gather him in a hug. 

Once he steps back, Woobin can see that the frames of Serim’s glasses are pink. He’s looking up again. Serim’s in platform red vans with pink painted hearts all over them. He’s also got socks pulled up to his mid-calf, pink with strawberry cows on them.

Woobin wants to compliment them. And his shoes. And his hoodie, and his glasses. Instead, he says, “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Serim smiles. 

Woobin follows as Serim starts to walk. He doesn’t know this area too well, but Serim seems to.

“The shop with the event is just around the corner here,” Serim announces. “The one I work at is just two streets down that way.” He points over to his right, his pink-sleeved arm brushing by Woobin. 

“Maybe we can go after,” Serim suggests.

Woobin smiles and nods. 

“In here.”

Serim walks through the door to the shop, Woobin following. The building is more of a warehouse than a shop, with a high ceiling and concrete floor, but there are racks upon racks of clothes around the entire room. There’s a board on the far wall, a diagram of coloured circles with prices next to each one. 

“All of the clothes have coloured stickers that tell you the price,” Serim explains, walking them over to the first rack. Woobin starts at the next one, flicking through the clothes. 

Serim calls for Woobin’s attention every few seconds, excitedly showing him the item in his hands, and asking for his opinion. He can also seem to sense every time Woobin takes something off of the rack, offering compliments each time. 

“Ruby,” Serim says and Woobin pinks as he turns to look at him. Serim’s taken off his sunglasses now. His eyes are rimmed with glitter, though Woobin’s not sure if it’s makeup or he’s just stolen some of the sunlight for his own. “I have the perfect thing for you.”

It’s then he realises Serim is holding something behind his back. 

“I’m shaking with anticipation,” Woobin responds, cheeks growing with his grin. He covers his eyes with his hands to up the drama. 

Serim giggles. “Alright, look now!” 

Serim’s holding a knit cardigan with little cartoon teddy bears patched on each of the pockets. It’s forest green and the bears are fluffy and brown. Woobin looks up at Serim and smiles. 

Woobin giggles, lifting up a side of the cardigan to run his fingers over the bear. “The boys do say I look like a bear a lot.”

“You do,” Serim rushes, blinking. “You are very round.”

Woobin looks at Serim and Serim looks back, blinking a few more times. Woobin looks at Serim until it’s been too long and he glances away, back down at the cardigan. When he blinks he swears he can see the shape of Serim’s eyes on the inside of his eyelids; like when you look at the sun directly and the brightness stays even when your eyes are closed.

Woobin reaches out to hold the hanger, taking the cardigan out of Serim’s hands.

“You’re,” Serim starts. “…gonna get it?”

Woobin nods. “Of course.” 

Serim looks at him, incredulous, and Woobin laughs. He doesn’t quite know how to say that he would put it on right now if it weren’t for the warm weather and the fact he hasn’t paid for it yet, but he hopes the way he carefully places it over his arm and hugs it close to him gets that across. 

They are over at a shelf filled with accessories, from scrunchies to broaches, when something catches Woobin’s eye. 

He picks up a hair clip with sparkly silver tassels on it like miniature cheerleading pompoms. He messily clips it into his hair, difficult with only one hand free and without a mirror. Once it’s just about clipped in, he reaches for the second one on the shelf to put it on the other side. This one is proving to be even more difficult, arm awkwardly stretching around his head.

He hears Serim laugh as he says, “Can I help you with that?”

“Yes, please,” Woobin smiles. 

Serim carefully takes the clip out of Woobins hand, letting him drop his arm back down by his side and leave his hair at the mercy of Serim. Serim’s hair always looks pretty so he’s sure he will be well taken care of.

Woobin hardly feels anything but once Serim steps back, Woobin guesses the clips are secure. He shakes his head a little to test and laughs when he hears the rustles of the pompoms.

“How do I look?” Woobin asks, posing with a hand under his chin and giving the pompoms another shake. 

Serim’s smile is big but his eyes are bigger as they flick from Woobin’s face to his hair, back and forth, like they don’t know where to look. 

“Sparkly,” he breathes. 

Woobin smiles, meets Serim’s eyes, then shies. He carefully takes the clips out and places them back but hopes that Serim can see him grinning. 

Serim puts his sunglasses on again once they step outside. Woobin is sort of sad to see Serim’s big eyes covered, but his glasses suit him well. He knows what makes him look handsome, from the half-framed sunglasses to the new purchases of two blazers sitting in the bag in his hand. Woobin has yet to see him in anything that doesn’t make his eyebrows look bolder, his chest look softer. He’s not sure if it’s possible. 

Serim smiles at the person behind the counter when they enter the shop he works at, and calls their name with a hello. They have long flowing lilac hair, matched with a lilac dress, and have more piercings than Woobin can count. 

“It’s much smaller than the last shop we were in,” Serim says, glancing around the shop while he brushes his hands through a display of neckties. “But I really like it here, I think it’s cute.”

It is cute. The small space calls for the cluttered look but it has heart to it; fills you with the need to touch everything to see if there’s something hidden beneath. 

“You suit it here.”

Serim glances over at him. “How so?” he giggles.

Woobin does another look around the shop, falls back to Serim. 

“You’re bright and…curious,” Woobin follows. “And you have very nice clothes.”

Serim laughs. It’s quiet but it fills up the room. 

“Thank you,” Serim says. “I like your clothes, too.”

Minhee is there when he gets home, smiles at Woobin as he walks to the kitchen. He’s surprised that Minhee is home before him: maybe Jungmo stayed here for their date instead of what they'd planned. They do that sometimes. 

“Coffee?” Minhee says, so quietly it’s a whisper. Woobin answers, just as silent. Minhee disappears as Woobin wanders to his room, dropping his bag, and hanging up his new cardigan, before making his way to the kitchen.

Minhee is standing at the counter, spooning coffee grounds into one of the mugs in front of him, this one printed with idiotic photos of Woobin (a gift from Minhee and Taeyoung.) Minhee’s mug, a glass cup with snoopy drawings on it, sits beside it with a tea bag already floating in the steaming water. 

Woobin can’t count the number of times he’s lectured Minhee on the risks of putting hot water into glass cups, explained the science to it. Every time, Minhee nods at him blankly and continues to do as he wants. 

There’s sunlight shining through the window onto Minhee, making his hair glow white and kissing a little dot of bright light on his nose. Woobin watches as Minhee’s still face stretches into a smile, so wide to be at seemingly nothing. Minhee hardly looks down at what he’s doing as he pours in hot water from the kettle. His smile only gets bigger, giddier.

Woobin knows what this smile means. He knows what all of Minhee’s smiles mean, has them all collected in a little file in the corner of his brain that belongs to Minhee. Woobin loves him so much. 

“Jungmo?” Woobin says calmly, so as not to frighten Minhee. It doesn’t really work because Minhee jumps as he turns to notice Woobin leaning against the doorway. 

Minhee then registers what was said and his smile is back, shier this time. He nods. 

“Do you wanna talk about him?” 

Minhee nods again and shuffles over to Woobin. And then he collapses into Woobin’s arms and Woobin holds him because that’s all he has to do.

The others are already there when Woobin and Minhee arrive at the rehearsal space. Woobin holds the door open as Minhee shuffles in, carefully carrying the tray of coffees they picked up for the members. 

He walks over to Allen first to hand him his ice latte. Jungmo skips over as Minhee holds out his ice americano.

“Thank you, princess,” Jungmo kisses onto Minhee’s forehead as he takes the drink.

Jungmo is smiling. Minhee is blushing. Woobin is stifling a laugh. Allen’s eyes are blown wide. And Taeyoung drops his drumsticks and is making quite the racket with his failed attempts to pick them up and be a functioning person. 

Woobin is glad that Minhee still has Taeyoung’s ice chocolate in his hands or they would’ve been scrubbing the floors. 

“Youngtae, come get your drink,” Minhee orders over the quiver in his voice. 

Woobin laughs over the noise of Taeyoung scrambling around his drums. 

Once they settle down, Allen and Minhee on the couch, the rest sitting on the floor, Jungmo speaks up. 

“I have a song basically finished now. Should we workshop it today?”

He’s met with a chorus of hums and nods.

“What’s it called?” Taeyoung asks.

“Message In A Bottle,” Jungmo replies, grinning the way he does where you can see his teeth only at the sides of his smile. 

“Cute!” Allen cheers. “And actually I was thinking,” he follows. “We should get some of our friends over here to perform for them. Like a little practice gig, get some feedback from them.”

“That would be fun,” Minhee sighs, head falling onto Allen’s shoulder. “Ruby, you can text Serim and ask him to come with Hyeongjun and Wonjin. We can tell Seongmin about it at home.”

“Okay, I will,” Woobin blushes. Minhee thinks him the link between them and Serim’s friends. For some reason that makes him jittery, hands messily typing his passcode. 

we were gonna organise a little practice gig in the rehearsal space. 

would you + wonjin, hyeongjun, seongmin want to come?

Seri-hyung

YES OFC WHEN????

Woobin smiles at his phone, at how quickly the three typing dots disappeared in place of a text. No waiting for a response, no delayed replies in fear of seeming eager. Serim is so eager. 

When Woobin and Allen walk into the rehearsal space, Allen’s backpack and Woobin’s tote bag full of snacks, they find Jungmo and Minhee laying on the couch together and Taeyoung sitting at the opposite wall, crouched in a ball, scrolling through his phone. 

Taeyoung, seeming dazzled, jumps up to unzip Allen’s backpack, helping him unload all the snacks onto the floor. Jungmo and Minhee don’t move at all and with a glance at their faces, Woobin sees that their eyes are closed. 

They look ridiculous, both of their legs too long for the couch so they’re hooked over the armrest, hanging off the edge. Minhee’s head is resting on Jungmo’s chest, Jungmo’s head turned towards him, and Jungmo’s strawberry-printed cardigan is placed on top of them like a blanket. So that’s why Taeyoung is close to tears. 

“How long have they been asleep?” Woobin asks. “We were hardly gone for twenty minutes.”

Taeyoung coughs. “Probably has been about that long, then.”

Woobin snorts. For the sake of Taeyoung’s sanity, Woobin drops his tote by the snack pile on the floor and walks over to Jungmo and Minhee to wake them up. 

He stands behind their heads and starts poking their cheeks. 

“Wake up, babies.” Poke. “The others will be here soon.” Poke, poke.

The two of them scrunch their faces and start to stretch out their arms, which Woobin accepts as awake enough. 

Allen and Taeyoung have organised the snack pile, but it sits on the floor nevertheless so Woobin walks around it to get started plugging in the amps. Allen has his sweater sleeves pulled up, setting up his keyboards. Taeyoung is already sitting behind his drums, red hoodie hood pulled taught around his face. Woobin has already turned on all the amps by the time Jungmo and Minhee get out their guitars; Jungmo in just a t-shirt while Minhee has the strawberry cardigan on over his hoodie. He looks sleepy as he fiddles with his bass amp dials.

Woobin looks down and smiles at his own cardigan, the green one with bears on the pockets that he got out with Serim. He rubs his thumb against one of the bears. 

He’s setting up his mic stand when he hears the door open and looks up to see Seongmin coming in first, followed by Serim, Wonjin and Hyeongjun. 

Woobin quickly twists the mic-stand grip to fix it in place and runs over to greet them. He hugs Seongmin, then Serim. He holds his arms open for Hyeongjun and Wonjin to pile into if they want to, and they do. He hugs them with each of his arms and lets go to watch them shuffle further into the room to get more hugs. 

Woobin smiles as he sees Seongmin attached to Allen’s back while Allen tries to hug Serim with what little mobility he has left. Wonjin and Taeyoung are in the middle of what seems to be an elaborate handshake. Hyeongjun is on his tip-toes, messing up Minhee’s hair with his hand. Jungmo has his hand on Hyeongjun’s cheek, pinching the skin. 

Woobin glances around at them all again and sees Serim looking back. He smiles and watches Serim make his way back to stand beside him. 

“Hi,” Serim says. 

“Hi,” Woobin grins, taking in Serim’s outfit: bright pink tracksuit bottoms, white t-shirt French-tucked in that looks like he painted on himself, and combat boots. He looks back up at Serim’s face and Serim looks up a moment after. His eyes are winged as black as his hair.

“You…” Serim starts. 

“Woobin!” Allen calls from somewhere behind him. 

Woobin smiles a quick apology to Serim but Serim is already looking past him, to where Allen is. Woobin turns around and sees Allen standing at one end of the couch, hands on the armrest. 

“Can you help me move this?”

Woobin runs over to the other end of the couch, grips one hand on the armrest and the other on the back of the couch. An arm brushes against his own and Woobin turns his head to see that Serim has followed him, placing his hands on the armrest just next to Woobins. They start pulling the couch into the centre of the room, Allen pushing the other side. 

“I think that’s good!” Allen announces once the couch is positioned in the middle of the room, facing the makeshift stage with the snack pool between them. Woobin straightens up again and Serim is looking at him so he sends him a smile. 

At that moment, Seongmin runs over and takes Serim’s hand, pulling Serim alongside him as he dives onto the couch. 

“So Hyeongjun and Wonjin have to sit on the floor,” Seongmin explains. 

Serim laughs and then he looks back up at Woobin and laughs again. Woobin laughs back. Very hilarious of them to hope they could have a conversation with so many of their loud, ridiculous friends all in one room. 

Woobin makes his way back to the band, walking on one side of the snack pool, as Wonjin and Hyeongjun walk on the other, whining at the realisation they have been assigned the floor as their seats. Woobin thinks he can hear Seongmin cackle in victory. 

“Guys, make sure you have earplugs in!” Jungmo warns, throwing some packets of disposable earplugs over to their friends. “Taeyoung is loud.”

Taeyoung gasps loudly in surprise, and with it, presses his foot pedal so the high-hats open and close with a clang, as if to prove Jungmo’s point. “That is rude,” he whines. “I swear to God, drummers get no respect.” 

Woobin giggles as he takes his orange microphone off its stand. He moves the stand to the side for the meanwhile: their first few songs are energetic so he’ll move around. At least that is the idea: that is what this practice is about, he guesses. 

He turns around to the others, all testing out their instruments, fiddling with the amps where they need to. Once they all seem settled, Woobin turns to Jungmo, asking for the final word go.

“Introduce us, Ruby,” Jungmo nods at him. 

Woobin holds his orange microphone in one hand, the lead in the other, and looks at their crowd of four people, Seongmin and Serim settled into the couch, Wonjin and Hyeongjun on the floor, leaning back against their legs. He watches Serim fiddle with one of the earplugs and waits until his hand falls back to his lap before speaking into the mic.

“Good evening, ladies, gentle-them, and my dearest, dearest homosexuals, thank you for coming.” 

Hyeongjun makes a noise that Woobin deducts is a laugh but it sounds more like a scream and Woobin watches him collapse onto Wonjin. He stretches his legs out so his tiny body is taking up a large amount of both the floor and Wonjin. Serim and Seongmin are laughing too, and even Wonjin is despite the recent development of his being tackled. Woobin grins. 

“Please enjoy your stay here in miniworld,” Woobin concludes. 

Jungmo is smiling when he asks Taeyoung to count them in and Woobin is hit with a wave of overwhelming good and almost misses his line.

The first song they play is Jungmo’s new one, Message in A Bottle. Woobin does a little dance in the second chorus which earns him some screeches from Wonjin and Hyeongjun. He immediately shies, covers his face, and laughs through the next line. 

For their ballads, Hi Hello, Gravity, Woobin puts his mic back in its stand. It feels different, singing Gravity here. He has more energy, more drive, more determination to project, than practising with miniworld alone, but when he opens his eyes after high notes he doesn’t see a crowd, just four friends looking up at him and listening. It’s when they start to clap that Woobin realises the song is over. He reminds himself to breathe. 

He swaps places with Minhee for Everything Has Changed, playing simple bass notes and harmonising to Jungmo and Minhee’s duet. They sing and Woobin looks at their friends watching. They are waving their hands in the air, back and forth, and smiling, singing along when it gets to parts they know. He watches Serim. He can’t hear him sing but his lips are making the words anyway.

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

He remembers the first time he looked at Serim while playing this song, thinking that what little he knew of him he wanted to know more. He knows more now. Every part of him screams 'don’t stop’.

Come back and tell me why I’m feeling like I’ve missed you all this time

He watches Serim sway side to side, smiling big and giddy. Serim meets his eyes, smile still big and giddy, and he waves his hand ‘hi’, big and giddy. And curse Jungmo for writing this song, curse Minhee for deserving it, curse them for being so in love, because his hands are too occupied to wave back. He smiles, big and giddy, and hopes it’s loud enough for Serim to hear it.

The four of them clap when the band finishes up the last song. They shout for an encore but miniworld are already putting away their instruments, laughing along but too eager to join their friends to oblige. 

The snack pool has been disturbed and shared amongst them all as they settle into somewhat of a circle. Taeyoung, Hyeongjun, and Wonjin are smushed together on the couch, a crisp packet sitting in Hyeongjun’s lap as the three of them eat from it. The rest of them are on the ground, sitting on the cushions from the couch in the other room. Seongmin is to his right and Serim to his left; closer though, they’re sharing a cushion. 

“You’re wearing the cardigan,” Serim says quietly. Woobin looks at him but finds him smiling down at Woobin’s cardigan, so he looks too. “That’s what I was going to say earlier.”

“Yeah, I am.” Serim is touching the bear patch with his finger. “It’s very comfy.”

“It looks it." 

Serim looks up into his eyes he smiles and in a moment he is gone and Woobin is stuck looking at where his smile had been before catching up with Serim again, reached over to pick up a snack. 

When he sits back on the cushion it tilts, pulling Woobin towards him. Serim smiles at him again and offers Woobin some cheese crisps. After Woobin takes one, Serim just puts the packet in between their stretched-out legs.

The group talk all together, loud and ridiculous as they are. Woobin doesn’t add much, he feels clumsy today: like how he keeps bumping his hand into Serim’s when they reach for snacks at the same time. 

He listens though. Wonjin is telling a story about himself and Serim. Serim. Minhee asks Serim to pass some sweets to him. Serim. 

They finish the packet of crisps, Serim folds up the empty packet and puts it beside him, doesn’t move to get any more. Woobin doesn’t want to move to get another snack but now he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

He settles for resting them on his legs and when he hears Serim giggle he worries he’s appearing as awkward as he fears he is. Serim keeps laughing, under his breath, and now that he’s listening closer it sounds messy. Woobin smiles.

He feels something touch his hand and he watches Serim poke his hand with one finger as he did earlier with his cardigan. 

“Can I hold your hand?” Serim asks and Woobin nods and Serim intertwines their fingers and rests their hands in Woobin’s lap.

Serim is holding Woobin’s hand. 

Wonjin makes a joke. Hyeongjun screeches. No one flinches at the noise, it’s familiar now. Taeyoung is laughing as he leans over Hyeongjun, a hand on his thigh, to hit Wonjin’s arm. Woobin laughs. So does Seongmin, and Jungmo, and Minhee, and Allen. So does Serim. Serim is holding Woobin’s hand.

Woobin is listening and he’s comprehending and then Serim moves his thumb and everything slips out of time like an old tape where the sound and picture are out of sync. 

He can hear things being said but the only thing that resonates is Serim. Serim, Serim, Serim: the sound of it hits him each time. It echoes back and forth in his mind.

Serim. Serim. Serim. Serim. 

His days have been full of him; his phone has most of all, between their busy schedules. A few times now, just before he opens his phone up to text Serim, its buzzes on its own. It makes him smile every time it happens. 

Today, though, he’s been rehearsing the whole time, on his feet. When he collapses onto the couch and takes out his phone, his notification screen reads Seri<3 Seri<3 Seri<3 Seri<3. 

sounds like you’ve missed me then?

Seri-hyung ❤️

so much!!!

are you rehearsing?

He replies that he is, not mentioning the fact that Allen’s feet are in his lap from where he’s reclining on the couch and that the others are laying across the floor, starfished and un-moving.

Seri-hyung ❤️

I’m walking home now, can I come see you guys?

YES!

Woobin grins to himself. He announces to the room that Serim is coming and is met with tired, but positive, cheers. 

sounds like you’ve missed me then?? 

:P

None of them stretched out on the floor move an inch once the knock on the door comes, so Woobin groans and lifts Allen’s legs off his lap to let Serim in. 

“Hi!” Serim’s in a button-up shirt, blue and orange, tucked into jeans. Smiling. 

Woobin almost gets to reply before his breath is knocked out of him. He’s got Serim right in front of him, arms around his waist, head perched on his shoulder. Woobin wraps his arms around Serim lightly but soon he’s gripping to him as Serim lifts him up, one spin around before Woobin’s back on his feet. 

Serim sends him a smile and brushes right into the room, standing with his arms out, waiting there as each person in the room scrapes themselves to their feet and lines up to be hugged. 

“Productive day?” Serim asks, ruffling Taeyoung’s hair who has the happiest look on his face despite also appearing on the verge of passing out. 

They tell Serim odd bits of their day. Woobin jokes and Serim giggles each time he does so he says everything he can think of. Serim tells them about his day, too. Woobin sits on the couch next to him as he talks and the others throw him enthusiastic responses as they shuffle around the room, packing up all their things. 

“Have you eaten, hyung?” Woobin asks Serim once he’s quiet again. 

Serim whines, Woobin laughs. 

“No, not yet.” He collapses onto Woobin, head on Woobin’s shoulder. “I have to go home and cook, how tragic.”

“Cooking is fun,” Woobin argues, poking Serim’s arm with a finger. 

Serim sits up and pokes him back. “Yeah, when you’re an expert chef, maybe.” He’s still pouting. 

“Hyung, have you had Ruby’s cooking, yet?” Minhee pipes up from where he’s sitting, crisscrossed, tying up a cable. 

Serim and Woobin shake their heads. 

“No, sadly,” Serim moans, slumping into the couch. 

Jungmo gasps. “It is delicious, you need to!” 

“Stop rubbing it in my face!” Serim whines this, leaning further onto Woobin. Woobin tries very hard to not move too much while he laughs. 

“If you want it so bad, I can cook for you today,” he giggles. 

Serim’s head shoots up. His eyes are blown wide when he meets Woobin’s. 

“You would?” 

Woobin nods. “If you’d like that.”

Serim is looking right in his eyes, so honestly. Despite this tangle of nerves in his stomach begging him to look away, he fights it. He wants Serim to know he means it, just as honestly. 

“I…” Serim starts and Woobin is surprised he sounds so nervous. What are you worried about and can I ease it? 

“Hyeongjun and Wonjin are home,” he rushes. “We were going to eat together.”

Woobin smiles, as easy as he can. “I can cook for them, too. If they want.”

Woobin feels himself relax the moment Serim smiles. 

“We can walk Minhee home,” Allen says, making Woobin look over to him, standing in front of them with a keyboard case balanced against his hip. “Or he can stay with us, whatever he wants. But you go have fun.”

Woobin reaches out a hand to Allen, who slips his fingers into Woobin’s and Woobin shakes their hands. “Thank you.” 

They walk for a short while all in one direction, Woobin has his arm around Minhee’s elbow and Serim is at the front of the group, chatting with Allen to his left. Once they get to a crossroads, Serim and Allen slow to a stop, the rest of them following.

They part with hugs. Woobin kisses Minhee’s cheek and promises he won’t be home late. Serim reaches out his hand, Woobin fits his right into it, and they send more waves goodbye as Serim walks them across the road. 

Serim’s holding his hand and there’s no conversation to be focusing on, no concentration required as to where they’re going. Serim’s just holding his hand and walking and Woobin is following because what else is he to do when Serim’s hands are so warm? Serim’s hands are so warm Woobin’s not sure he wouldn’t follow him anywhere.

Serim’s house is this little terraced townhouse, the kind that’s taller than it is wide: dark brick with an arched porch in front of the door and a cute little metal gate that Serim opens. He holds it open with one arm, gesturing for Woobin to go ahead of him. He stands before the step at the door, looks up and giggles when Serim stands on top of it, suddenly taller.   

“I’m home!” Serim calls into the house once they walk into the hallway. “And Ruby’s here!”

Serim opens one of the doors in the hallway, the one with light pouring through its glass pane. The room they walk into is a living room, a TV on one wall, a couch pushed against a staircase facing it and a small coffee table in between. On the couch are Wonjin and Hyeongjun, a blanket covering their legs while their arms sit on top, Nintendo Switch remotes in hand. 

“Woobin-hyung!” Hyeongjun lifts his arms up in the air which Woobin mirrors. 

“Hey, hyung!” Wonjin waves. 

Woobin walks closer to the couch beside them, faces the TV to watch their game but he finds it paused. The two boys look up at Woobin, Wonjin has a hand on his arm, ready to pull him onto the couch and under the blanket at any moment. 

“Are you guys hungry?” 

He gets confused looks in response, before Hyeongjun hesitantly replies “Yes?”

“Ruby said he’s cooking for us today!” Serim explains, his voice so cheery—as if this was the best news he could come home to his boys with. Serim’s boys look up at Woobin like it is the best news.

“Woobin contestant!” Hyeongjun announces, imaginary microphone in hand, as he stands in the kitchen doorway. “You have 15 minutes to cook a meal using anything in this kitchen. Starting now!”

“Am I a cooking show to you?” Woobin looks to Hyeongjun behind him from where he’s washing his hands.

“Yes,” Wonjin replies, arms around Hyeongjun’s shoulders from behind and moving side to side, making it difficult for Hyeongjun to hold up his imaginary mic. “But we get to actually eat what you make which is really the ideal situation.”

Woobin laughs and turns back to the sink, underneath a window out to the small front garden of the house. It’s still very bright outside, illuminating the kitchen’s cute wooden cupboards and lino floors. 

He has a scan of the fridge to decide what to make.

“Kimchi-stew?” Woobin suggests, leaning back from the fridge, glancing between the boys at the door and Serim perched on the countertop. He’s met with vigorous nods and he snorts, collecting the ingredients in his arms and transferring them to the counter, next to Serim who scoots over to make more room. 

He feels a soft touch on his shoulder and looks up at Serim. 

“If you need anything, I’ll get it,” he says, eyes bright and direct. “Or if I can help at all.”

Woobin smiles at him, genuine, and then lets it slip to the side. “You’re my assistant then?”

“Yes, Chef!” Serim bows his head and Woobin can’t hold back his laugh.

He picks up the bunch of green onions he found in the fridge and hands it to Serim. “Cut these for me?”

He does: on a little green oval chopping board, somewhat slowly but Woobin doesn’t comment. He hides his smile.

He looks over his shoulder, expecting Hyeongjun and Wonjin to still be there despite the quiet, but they weren’t. So much for the cooking show. 

No matter, Woobin thinks. There’s Serim—

“Ruby!” Serim’s holding out the board of newly chopped green onion. “I’ve cut these. Anything else I can do?”

There’s Serim. 

“Seo Woobin.” 

Serim has never sounded so serious it almost catches Woobin off-guard, though they are just in Serim’s kitchen, Serim holding an empty spoon up to his mouth, having just tasted the kimchi stew. There is nothing to worry about: if it isn’t good Woobin will fix it, but he thinks it will be fine.

“This is so good.” 

Serim glares at him, Woobin laughs. 

“This is incredible.” 

He stops glaring at Woobin and starts glaring at the spoon like it has tricked him somehow. 

“It’s so good, I’m mad.”

“Excuse me!” Wonjin shouts, loud enough to make Woobin jump, and slides in through the kitchen door. “Is Serim getting the first bite? How is that fair?”

He pouts and Hyeongjun waddles into the kitchen to do the same. 

“Assistant privileges.” Woobin plucks the spoon out of Serim’s hands to put in the sink. “We can all eat it, now! It’s ready, right?” He asks Serim. 

“If by ready you mean the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Serim mumbles. He still sounds angry and pouty and Woobin finds it so cute he wants to scream.

Hyeongjun whines loudly at that. “I wanna eat it!” 

Everyone in this house is so loud and needy and Woobin is a little bit in love with it. 

“Get us some bowls then.”

They’re finished with the kimchi stew within an hour and Wonjin drags him to play a game on the TV while the other two clean up. Wonjin and Woobin have both won one Super Smash Bros match each before Serim and Hyeongjun rejoin them. Wonjin is demanding Woobin come back to their house soon to play a final rematch so he can prove he is better.

Woobin is wanted back. His stomach swirls as he plays with the blanket on his and Wonjin’s legs. It might be in the form of an invitation for a Super Smash Bros match but nonetheless, he is wanted back. 

There’s not enough space but Serim squishes between Woobin and the armrest of the couch and asks if Woobin is comfortable. Woobin nods and covers Serim’s legs with the blanket, too. 

They get halfway through a movie before Woobin yawns, looks at his phone showing 22:34 on the lock screen, and decides he should head home. 

They all say goodbye. Hyeongjun is sleepy when he hugs Woobin and Woobin wants to take him home with him. He manages to part with him with a pat on the head and Serim walks him to the door.

“Thank you for cooking.”

Woobin stands just outside, the threshold dividing him from where Serim is standing inside the door. It’s a raised floor under Serim’s feet. Woobin has to look up at him. 

“Thank you for having me,” Woobin matches Serim’s smile. He crosses his arms to keep them warm but can’t hold back his shiver when the wind brushes against him. “Goodnight, then."

“Wait!” Serim dashes away from the door to somewhere further down the hallway.

Woobin leans forwards from where he’s standing in an attempt to see what Serim is doing, but Serim is back at the door in a moment. In his arms is a jacket, puffy and bright orange. 

Serim steps onto the threshold and swings the jacket around Woobin’s shoulders and places it there, holding it up while Woobin uncrosses his arms and slips them into the jacket sleeves. 

“It’s May,” Woobin points out. 

“You’re cold, though.” Serim starts to zip up the jacket and Woobin lets him, watches his eyebrows furrow and relax again. 

“There,” Serim breathes once the zip is just under Woobin’s chin. He leaves his hands where they are, fixed to the jacket. Woobin feels a tickle at his chin and he’s not quite sure whether it was the wind or Serim’s hand.

“Thank you.”

Serim smiles widely, looks down into Woobin’s eyes. Serim smiles wider so his eyes crescent which makes Woobin smile and he’s back in this never-ending cycle of looking at Serim and finding so many parts of him to smile about. 

“I’m gonna kiss your cheek,” he says and waits and Woobin nods. 

Serim’s hand on the zip pulls Woobin forward just slightly as he leans down and leaves a kiss on Woobin’s cheek. 

“Goodnight, Ruby.” 

He drops his grip on the jacket, leans back so Woobin can see his smile again, and it’s pink. He waves and Woobin thinks he waves back as Serim closes over the door.

There’s no one in the living room when he gets home. He wipes his shoes on the mat as he locks the door before he slips the shoes off and unzips the jacket. Serim’s jacket. He stands there in the entranceway, hands holding each side of the jacket and he doesn’t want to take it off. 

It’s completely quiet in the apartment, Minhee and Seongmin must be already in bed. The orange glows in the dim light of the room and he’s not sure what to do but stand there and look at it.

Although Woobin managed to take the jacket off that night and stumble into bed, he has run right into the next challenge of ‘how to give it back (without making a fool of himself)’. It’s becoming more of a difficulty than he had envisioned for various reasons. 

Firstly, miniworld have been rehearsing all day every day and it seems Serim has been as busy, too, so scheduling has been a nightmare.

Also, Woobin has been… lost.

“Ruby.”

Woobin jumps at the sound and turns around. Minhee is standing there, leaning against the door frame. Woobin has the dignity to feel somewhat ashamed at being caught like this. He also has the pride to argue that cooking a whole meal in the middle of the night is a perfectly reasonable way to spend his time.

“Hyung?” Minhee says so quietly.

Woobin looks at him and can’t bring himself to say anything, wouldn’t know what to say. I know I don’t sleep much anyway, but… this is different.

Minhee must know it. He steps into the kitchen and opens his arms. Woobin walks forward and wraps his arms around Minhee, letting his head sink into Minhee’s chest. Minhee runs his fingers through Woobin’s hair. When he gets to the ends he starts again. 

“Hyung, what are you cooking?”

Woobin smiles into Minhee’s shoulder. 

“Kimchi-fried rice and pork.” 

Minhee snorts. “At 4 am?”

“I thought I could make it now and it’ll be still good to eat tomorrow because we have a long day,” Woobin says. “And it would feed you guys for lunch at least and if you sleep in over breakfast you need something filling and—”

“Hey, hey, hyung,” Minhee interrupts. He pulls back from the hug but keeps his hands on Woobin’s shoulders. Woobin gives in to Minhee’s attempts to meet his eyes and looks up at him. “You don’t need to worry about that.” 

But—

“Hyung, you don’t need to take care of us like that all the time. You don’t even need to take care of yourself like that all the time.” 

Woobin looks to the floor. His slippered feet are standing over a line of grout between two of the kitchen tiles. Minhee pulls him back into a hug. 

“You can let us take care of you instead, sometimes,” Minhee says, softly by his ear. “We might not do quite as good a job, but we won’t mess up that badly.” 

Woobin laughs. He feels that bit lighter. 

“I know something is bothering you,” Minhee confesses. “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”

Woobin knows he could, and he will. Later. Now, he says, “I already cut the pork.”

It’s Minhee’s turn to laugh then. He carefully pulls out of the hug. 

“I’ll stay up with you then!” Minhee announces. 

Woobin glares at him. “Minhee.”

Minhee pushes himself up to sit on the counter. “I am my own free person, and I am choosing to stay up with you. It is my democratic right.”

Woobin blinks at him, watching as he fails to hold back a yawn. “Minhee, it’s 4 am. I want you to get some sleep.” 

“And I don’t want you to be alone,” Minhee argues, his hand hovering over the bowl of kimchi beside him. “So, ha.” He pops a piece of kimchi into his mouth.

Woobin can’t hold back a smile. He stands back at the stove and gets to work. The sooner he finishes, the sooner Minhee will go to bed. 

“Hi, Ruby!” 

Woobin swings his head towards the apartment doorway to see Jungmo wiping his shoes on the mat, hunched over to take them off.

“Is that a new jacket?” Jungmo nods to Woobin’s hands and Woobin looks back down to where he’s holding Serim’s orange puffer jacket. He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing in the hallway. “It’s really pretty.”

Woobin glances back to Jungmo, socked feet on the carpet floor. His socks are pink with cats on them and he’s wearing a yellow cardigan, stitched with daisies. 

Woobin shakes his head. “No.” His throat is caught so he coughs. “It’s Serim’s.”

Jungmo stands still and Woobin follows where his eyes flick between Woobin and the jacket.

“Oh, Ruby,” he sighs and the sound of it makes Woobin want to cry for some reason. 

Jungmo walks up to Woobin, places two hands on his shoulders and starts to guide them into the kitchen. “Intervention time.”

Woobin is still as he watches Jungmo gracefully move around the kitchen like this is his home. It is, Woobin thinks again. He’s sitting up on the counter, warm mug of coffee in hand and Jungmo has placed the jacket on the back of one of the chairs by Woobins legs. 

Jungmo’s at the fridge, putting the milk carton back in its place, when he looks back to Woobin. 

“Do you want anything to eat?” He asks and before Woobin can answer he’s turned back to the fridge to scan its contents. “There are some strawberries. And some bread rolls!”

I know, I bought them. Woobin smiles.

“I’m okay. Thank you, Mogu.”

Jungmo smiles back in reply. He closes the fridge and walks over to Woobin, pulling out the chair in front of Woobin. He perches on it, facing Woobin, and puts his arms on Woobin’s legs like he’s about to nap on them. 

“So,” Jungmo starts. Woobin stifles a laugh at how funny it is looking down on Jungmo’s face from where he is. “Talk to me.”

Woobin doesn’t say too much at once, Jungmo doesn’t push. Woobin tells him how he ended up with the jacket, and how with busy schedules, he hasn’t been able to see Serim to give it back. Jungmo nods and rubs Woobin’s leg carefully. He knows that’s not all there is.

“I…I don’t know why it’s proving so difficult,” Woobin confesses. “It’s just giving him his jacket back, but…I don’t know. I haven’t seen him, and suddenly that’s scary, and also I… just don’t wanna give it back.” Woobin laughs as he says it, almost a scoff. It sounds ridiculous, saying it out loud. “That sounds so silly,” he snorts. 

“We are all silly when it comes to certain things,” Jungmo smiles. His voice is calm and he reaches for Woobin’s hands, rubs them once Woobin gives them over. “Certain people.”

Woobin wants to laugh at Jungmo and his inability to be subtle, but Woobin thinks he might cry if he looks at him. Instead, Woobin watches their hands. He takes one of Jungmo’s in two of his and fiddles with Jungmo’s fingers. 

“It’s okay to be silly,” Jungmo laughs softly. “That’s why you have friends to be your logic while you are momentarily blinded by love in regards to this task.” Woobin does look up at that and Jungmo’s posing with a hand under his chin. 

Woobin stares at him. “You are going to be my logic?” 

Jungmo pulls his other arm from Woobin’s grip to place both hands on his hips, mouth open, scoffing in offence. “I’ll have you know I am very logical. I just choose to be ridiculous.”

Woobin laughs properly, big and loud. Jungmo looks proud of himself for it and Woobin lets him revel in it. When they settle down again their hands rest together in Woobin’s lap. 

“He’s at home today until 2 o’clock,” Woobin states. “I was going to drop it round to him.”

“Do you want me to do it for you?” Jungmo asks. A genuine offer. And Woobin could tear up at the suggestion before he shakes his head. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Jungmo asks again. 

Woobin is about to shake his head, on instinct, and then pauses. 

“…okay,” he smiles. Jungmo’s smile back is ridiculous. 

They apparently make enough noise while getting ready to leave that it wakes up Seongmin first, who sleepily and grumpily gives into Jungmo and Woobin’s requests for hugs before shuffling into the kitchen, and then Minhee, whose hair is a literal nest of white. 

“Are you going out?” Minhee asks the two of them. Woobin is proud of Minhee for being able to register that despite his sleepy state. Sleepy Minhee is not usually aware of…anything really. 

“Yes, we’re going on a date,” Jungmo giggles and steps up to Minhee. He holds one side of Minhee’s face and kisses the other cheek. “I’m leaving you for Ruby.”

Minhee quietly gasps and holds a hand to his chest. “What about the kids?”

Jungmo laughs louder, kisses Minhee’s cheek again, two hands on his face this time, and walks back towards to doorway. 

“Goodbye, love! I’ll text you later.”

“So, how long has it been since you saw Serim?” Jungmo asks as he skips alongside Woobin on the pavement on their way to Serim’s house. 

Woobin places his hands in his shorts pockets, holding the jacket under one arm. 

“Um…about nine days I think?” Woobin answers.

Jungmo hums. “And how much have you been texting?”

“Every day.” 

When Jungmo doesn’t reply, Woobin glances at him and finds him looking right back, eyes wide, holding back a laugh. 

“What?” Woobin asks defensively.

Jungmo attempts to hide his grin but Woobin can see it and glares at him harder. 

“Nothing!” Jungmo cries. “Nothing, that’s wonderful.” 

He’s now smiling wide, no hiding it. It’s annoying so Woobin pouts and walks faster, leaving Jungmo to catch up as they reach Serim’s house. 

Woobin stops at the gate for a second, just to take a breath, and Jungmo uses it as an opportunity to pat his back, a small "you got this!” in his ear along with a giggle. He knows he agreed to let Jungmo come with him but now he’s regretting it. 

Of course, I got this, Woobin thinks as he walks up to the door. I don’t even need Jungmo here, I’m perfectly fine. He rings the doorbell. Say hello. Give him the jacket. Everything is fine—

“Hi,” Woobin rushes as soon as the door opens, Serim standing in the doorway. He’s wearing a black, short-sleeve t-shirt, the sleeve riding up on the arm that’s lifted, resting against the edge of the door.

“Ruby!” Serim cheers, smiling like this was a surprise. Woobin smiles back. Upwards. Serim’s on a step above him. 

“Oh, hi Jungmo!” Serim continues, taking his arm down from the door to wave at Jungmo, standing behind Woobin to his left. 

“Hi!” Jungmo returns cheerfully, waving back. “How are you, hyung?”

“Good!” Serim smiles. He’s crossed his arms over his chest, now. Leaning against the door frame. “Busy but good. I’m sure miniworld are similar.”

Jungmo laughs in agreement, Woobin joins a moment later. 

“I…” Woobin starts. “I have your jacket.” 

Serim gasps. “Oh yeah! That’s why you’re here, I forgot for a moment,” he snorts. 

Woobin giggles and passes the jacket over to Serim who takes it and refolds his arms with the jacket hugged between them and his chest. The orange a stark contrast to his dark outfit, his dark hair. His eyes. 

“Thank you,” Serim says and Woobin watches his smile form in slow motion. His cheeks start to heat so he looks back down at Serim’s arms. 

“We have a gig later this week,” Woobin announces. “On… Friday?” He turns back to Jungmo to confirm, who nods. “Yeah, Friday! Will you be coming?”

“Yes!” Serim shouts excitedly. “It has been too long since the last gig, us fans have been deprived.”  

Woobin laughs, giddy. “Okay. See you then, hyung.” 

Serim nods, grinning. “See you then.” He starts waving once Woobin steps back beside Jungmo, turning to go. 

“Bye, hyung!” Jungmo hollers. 

“Bye! Safe home!” Serim calls back. 

Serim waits at the door until they leave through the gate and are out of his line of sight which is very sweet of him and also very mean as Woobin has to concentrate on where he places his feet: consciously make sure he won’t trip.

They get to the end of the street when Jungmo bursts out laughing, so much that he’s bent over his stomach and they have to stop walking. Woobin glances around to check for any fellow pedestrians he has to politely smile at to assure them his friend is fine and not insane and thankfully he finds no one. 

“What are you laughing at?” Woobin questions once Jungmo is standing back upright.

“You’re actually obsessed with him,” Jungmo shrieks, still laughing. 

Woobin stares at him. “No, I’m not…”

“You are,” Jungmo counters. “You are obsessed with him. And he’s obsessed with you.”

Woobin opens his mouth to say something, what he’s not sure, but Jungmo continues. 

“You’re obsessed with each other. I’m obsessed.”

“Stop saying obsessed,” Woobin complains. He holds Jungmo’s arm and lightly pulls him so they can walk again. “And he’s not.”

“He is!” Jungmo cries, refusing to move. “He looked at you that entire time! And at shows, he wouldn’t spare me a glance if I were chasing a live chicken around the stage, Ruby. He literally only looks at you.”

And that makes Woobin want to sit on the pavement and curl up into a ball. Instead, though, he tries to pull Jungmo along to walk again and succeeds finally. 

Jungmo does take him on a date afterwards: they get pancakes and he talks about anything but work or Serim. Not that Woobin doesn’t still think of those things, but it’s all muffled beneath Jungmo’s chatter. Although Jungmo is so often quiet in groups, one-on-one he gives and gives and talks and talks if that is what the other needs.

He talks and Woobin zones out and smiles through a bite of ice cream. Jungmo’s way of comforting is so different to Minhee’s. And he gets to have both.  

On Friday, when Serim wanders into the dressing room, followed by Hyeongjun and Wonjin, Woobin’s stomach does this swirly thing and part of him wants to run right out of the door, but he’s frozen. Stunned. Smiling, automatically. Serim sits beside him on the couch close enough his shoulder is on top of Woobins. That part is automatic, too.

Serim is easy to laugh today, as usual. Woobin makes every joke he can and gives himself a metaphorical pat on the head each time Serim giggles. Woobin says everything he can find to say, asks every question in his mind. Whenever Serim gets distracted Woobin itches with the urge to move right in front of him, call his name, get Serim to look at him again. He can never look into Serim’s eyes for too long, but he wants Serim to, anyway. 

Maybe Jungmo is right. Maybe he is a little obsessed. But from what he’s learnt about Serim… maybe he won’t mind too much.

Serim clings to him. He has his arms wrapped around Woobin’s waist, one leg across his lap, head on his shoulder, and he’s hugging Woobin like Woobin is a blanket. Woobin thinks that might be nice. Completely smother him, keep him warm. 

“I haven’t seen my Ruby in too long, I need hugs.”

My Ruby. My Ruby…

Woobin thinks he might die. Whether it be fireworks explosions or a slow slip into a warm nothing, he doesn’t know. But he thinks, how could I possibly feel this much and survive it?

“So,” Jungmo starts as he falls onto the rehearsal space couch, placing his guitar against the armrest. “What are we gonna write about?”

Woobin meets Jungmo’s knowing eyes and groans. He puts his face in his hands and collapses forwards into Jungmo’s lap. Jungmo cackles and starts to brush Woobin’s hair with his hand. 

“I can’t write anything, right now,” Woobin whines, mumbled by his pout, his hands, and Jungmo’s leg. “I can’t even think about anything else, it’s horrible.” 

Jungmo laughs louder so Woobin whines louder. 

“Why don’t you write about that, then?” 

Woobin sits up enough to see Jungmo and leans his head against the back of the couch. 

“Writing sappy things is your job.” All their love songs are Jungmo’s. He churns them out like a love song vending machine. 

Jungmo sticks his tongue out at him. 

“It’s good for you!” Jungmo cries. “Helps you sort out all your feelings, get them out of your system.”

Woobin sighs. “It’s easier to ignore them, though.” 

“And what a wonderful job you are doing at ignoring them,” Jungmo teases with a snort, his grin stretching the length of his face. 

Woobin slaps him on the chest. Jungmo dramatically recoils and whines in pain. 

“You are so mean to me,” Woobin complains.

“Says the one who just attacked me,” Jungmo mumbles as he watches Woobin take his arm and move it to his face, patting away his fake tears with Jungmo’s cardigan sleeve. 

“What am I? A handkerchief?”

“Handkerchungmo,” Woobin provides through pretend sobs. 

Jungmo laughs so loud Woobin doesn’t hear Minhee step into the room and wander over to the couch to stand behind Jungmo.

“You two up to something?” Minhee places his hands under Jungmo’s chin and tilts his head back so he’s looking up at Minhee. 

“I’m teaching Woobin to write a love song,” Jungmo says. Woobin rolls his eyes.

Minhee lifts his head and laughs loudly. Even with his view only being the underside of Minhee’s chin, Jungmo’s smile doesn’t falter. 

“Well you have a lot of experience in that,” Minhee teases, looking back down at Jungmo.

“Are you not grateful?” Jungmo gasps.

Minhee giggles, “Of course I am.” 

He bends over to kiss Jungmo’s forehead. He straightens up and shifts over to stand behind Woobin, basically repeating the whole process. Woobin’s head is tilted back but instead of a kiss, he gets some pokes to his cheeks. 

“Did you get any further on the bass line for Chocolate?” Woobin asks. 

“I started,” Minhee says with a final cheek poke, steps around to the front of the couch. “But then I was dragged into a game of Mario Kart.”

“Dragged,” Woobin repeats with an eye roll.

Minhee walks backwards towards the side room as he talks. It is rather silly that the larger half of the group stay in the smaller room whenever Woobin and Jungmo are writing but they demanded the room with the Wii. 

“The laws of Mario Kart are to be respected! If I were to forfeit a game before it even began,” Minhee shivers at the thought. “How would I ever keep up my reputation?”

“Idiot,” Woobin says. 

“Goodbye, my love!” Jungmo says.

“You are so in love, it’s gross,” Woobin says once it’s just him and Jungmo again, smiling at the empty door just because Minhee was there. He doesn’t actually find it gross, they both know that, but it has to be said sometimes. 

“You have nothing to say, Mr I-can’t-think-about-anything-but-Serim.”

Woobin sticks his tongue out at Jungmo while Jungmo laughs. 

“So,” Jungmo prompts. “Will you try to write about it?”

Woobin sighs. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Hmmmm…” Jungmo scratches his chin like he’s a detective pondering a complicated case and Woobin almost slaps him before he speaks again, suddenly genuine. 

“How about… picking out moments?” Jungmo starts. He looks to Woobin, softly and quietly, and Woobin tilts his head, asking for an explanation. “So you’re not writing about it, you’re starting with these moments… and through thinking about them your feelings about them will float up.”

Woobin sits stills for a moment in the quiet. Relative quiet as there is Mario Kart on in the next room, but quiet. 

“Moments…” He tries it out on his tongue. “And…how do I know something is a moment?”

Jungmo laughs. “Oh you know a moment when it happens—Sorry,” he interrupts himself. “Unhelpful.”

“Anything can be a moment, Ruby,” he says, delicate. “This is a moment for us!”

Woobin makes a disgruntled face and Jungmo raises himself on the couch to swing down at him, hitting Woobin with a pineapple-cardigan-pawed hand. 

“Rude,” he spits. “After all I’m doing for you!”

Woobin laughs and pats Jungmo’s leg. An apology. A thank you. A truce. 

“I’ll try it,” Woobin accepts, and Jungmo’s eyes brighten. Woobin bows to the best of his ability while on the couch. “I’ll do my best on the homework, teacher.”

Jungmo wheezes and Woobin’s glad to have the loudness back. “I really gave you homework…” he snorts, patting Woobin’s shoulder before Woobin sits up again. 

“But remember, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Jungmo says, putting on the voice of a teacher, reassuring hand squeezing Woobin’s shoulder. “As Minhee says; homework is optional.”

Woobin tries for a moment to keep his composure, to not break character, but he lets out a single snicker, which Jungmo replies to with a horrible attempt at holding back a smile and then there’s laughter. 

The room is full of it, their lungs are empty and it doesn’t matter: it’s a better use of their air than breathing. 

At the next show, Serim, Hyeongjun, and Wonjin arrive almost as early in the day as miniworld do. When the band return to the dressing room after their sound check, the three of them have joined Seongmin. Wonjin is spinning around on one of the vanity chairs and Serim and Hyeongjun are squished together on the couch.

They jump up instinctively once miniworld enter and pile into hugs. 

Woobin is hugging Hyeongjun with one arm when Serim walks over and instead of waiting his turn, Serim wraps his arms around the two of them. Hyeongjun’s hoodie is soft and his head kind of fits under Woobin and Serim’s chins and Woobin wants the world to stop. 

“So what are you singing, today?”

Woobin’s eyes are closed as Seongmin does his eye makeup (green today: Hyeongjun chose), but he smiles in the direction of Serim’s voice. He feels pokes to his arm and he tries to hide his jumps. 

“It’s something we’ve never covered before,” Woobin answers. “So it’s a surprise.” 

Serim whines and Woobin laughs at him: lets his closed eyes give him the confidence to be cheeky. Maybe he can do this the whole time. Flirt in the dark.

“Look at me, hyung,” Seongmin says with a touch to his chin. Never mind. 

Seongmin’s face is crinkled in concentration when Woobin opens his eyes. His hair is pink now (Woobin helped him dye it yesterday) and has some kind of glitter in it and Seongmin has never looked more Seongmin. 

He flicks his eyes to his left and finds Serim, sitting on the countertop and leaning towards Woobin, concentrating on what Seongmin is doing for no other reason than interest. 

Woobin wants to close his eyes again but he looks back to Seongmin and tries to breathe.

“This green really suits you,” Seongmin comments as he twists open a liquid eyeliner bottle (also green). Woobin smiles, then laughs when he hears Hyeongjun cheer from somewhere behind Woobin, proud of himself for his colour choice. 

“It reminds me of that hoodie you have with the thumb holes,” Serim says and Seongmin hums cheerfully in agreement and Woobin tries and tries to breathe. 

The hugs at dressing room doors before Serim goes to find his way into the audience are something that crept up on Woobin: he didn’t quite realise how much he loved them until it was way too late to be normal about them. Serim holds him closely, whispers ‘good luck’ in his ear, and smiles so proudly as he walks away. 

He’s never sure whether it helps his nerves or makes them a thousand times worse: he questions whether it would be better for him to send Serim off without a hug, without being that close. It’s a debate that happens with every decision, trying to find which option is most sensible, but in the end, he just does what he wants. 

Serim stands there with his arms open and Woobin walks into them because that’s all he wants to do.

They open their set with Attention, please! and the room feels unbelievably full. Woobin gets to scream, let out all of his nerves and be loud. He’s so loud. 

They follow with Wild and Young. Woobin watches their friends in the crowd scream, hands raised, jumping, and Woobin can almost imagine that all the noise in the room is coming from just them. 

Jungmo meets his eyes, a silent cheer and a nod and Woobin steps up to his mic again. 

“This is our last song, sadly.” Woobin pauses for the anticipated cries and smiles when they come. “This is right where you left me. I hope you enjoy.”

Jungmo plays them in and Woobin sings. 

He loves singing this song last, a sharp ending. He can gather all the excitement and energy he’s built up from the moment they started and direct it. It’s full of anger and heartbreak and Woobin can sink into it and wield it with his voice. 

So he does and he sings.

There’s a moment of silence after they finish the song and Woobin revels in it. The cheers after are all the sweeter.

The second Woobin steps backstage he’s yanked into a group hug by Allen. Woobin fills in the space between Allen and Jungmo and wraps his arms as far around their huddle as he can. Taeyoung and Allen are screaming and Woobin smiles as loud. 

“Miniworld!” 

They all lift up their heads and look towards the source of the shout: Wonjin storming through the backstage door alongside Seongmin, Hyeongjun and Serim. 

Woobin smiles as Wonjin runs towards the band, launching at them with hugs. He sees Serim, a step behind Hyeongjun, hesitant. He meets his eyes and oh. 

This is something he hasn’t seen on Serim: mouth unmoved, bordering on a frown; eyes glossy and dazed. He looks as if just a single flick could topple him. 

Serim walks the distance between them, speeding up the closer he gets, and piles into Woobin’s arms. Woobin lets him hide his face in Woobin’s neck, and holds him, one arm around his shoulders, the other brushing the ends of Serim’s hair. He holds him up, holds him close.

Serim’s weight is lifted from him when they let go but Woobin feels heavier.

“Are you okay?” Woobin asks. 

Serim smiles, delicate and honest. “Yes. I promise.”

“I trust you.” 

Serim’s smile grows, gentle and earnest. “Can I hold your hand?” 

Woobin holds it out for Serim to take. When he does, Woobin doesn’t let him go. He sticks by Woobin’s for the hour they spend packing up and chatting. When Woobin, Minhee and Seongmin head home, Serim comes with.

Serim’s mood has settled by the time they sink into the couch, Minhee and Seongmin fluttering off to their bedrooms. It doesn’t leave, Woobin can still see it. Though, Serim never really tries to hide anything.

Serim laughs, loud and genuine, at Woobin’s jokes; he wipes his tears with his sleeve when they watch Arrietty. And Woobin is able to watch it all happen.

The movie ends. Woobin lets the credits run to listen to the music and wishes for Serim to do something to keep them where they are.

Serim shifts his seat on the couch to lean over closer to Woobin, phone in hand.

“My dad sent me some baby pictures he found,” he giggles. “They’re really funny, do you want to see?”

Wish come true. Maybe every wish. 

“Of course I do,” Woobin scoffs and sits up to have a good view of the phone as Serim opens up the pictures. 

Woobin squeaks at the first picture: little Serim captured in a martial arts pose. He flicks to the next: a shaggy-haired, slightly bigger Serim staring down the camera. Woobin laughs. 

In the next one, Serim’s a bit older again— a school yearbook photo. He’s got his ears pierced like he does now.

Serim gives him his phone, letting Woobin flick between the pictures himself while he looks over Woobin’s shoulder. Woobin looks through them, zooms in and laughs. Calls chubby baby Serim as cute as can be. 

When Woobin hands the phone back, Serim places it on the other side of the couch, turns away from it and towards Woobin. 

The reason is gone. They stay there anyway.

“I kinda wish I knew you back then,” Woobin says into the quiet. 

Woobin leans his head against the back of the couch and looks up at Serim. He’s reminded of the party months ago, his first proper conversation with Serim. 

What would it be like to have grown up with him? To have him everywhere? 

“He’s still here,” Serim answers. Woobin furrows his eyebrows, unsure of what he means.

“Me as a kid,” Serim clarifies. He sinks further into the couch to rest his head against the back of the couch, mirroring Woobin. “…he’s still here. He comes out whenever I’m in the vicinity of a trampoline.” 

Woobin giggles and listens.

“He comes out whenever I’m tired or hungry and want to go home… He comes out when I hold your hand for no reason, just because I want to.” 

And he does, reaching out and touching Woobin’s hand so lightly, asking Woobin if he can hold it. Woobin intertwines their fingers. 

He watches their hands. Serim is moving his thumb very slightly back and forth but they’re mostly still. 

“I like knowing you,” Woobin breathes. Back and forth, back and forth. 

Serim’s thumb gets a little more obvious, a little giddier. 

“I like you, too.”

Woobin looks at him, eyes fluttering around, gathering every bit of it he can.

He realises, listening has never been so fun. 

It’s fun and fulfilling and every little piece he learns about Serim feels like finding treasure. Like each part, a sliver of canvas that’s fitting all together to make the most beautiful painting he’ll ever see. 

He wishes he didn’t have to be awake to listen. What if they could sleep and meet in dreams and live there forever and Woobin could spend an eternity collecting every bit of the canvas that exists? He’d call its name and polish it and watch it fit perfectly into place.

That would be so nice… to dream of this, too. 

“Ruby.”

The voice is quiet but teetering on a giggle. It makes Woobin open his eyes nonetheless. 

“We fell asleep,” Serim smiles and he’s right there. 

Serims arm is around Woobins shoulders, creating a space for Woobins head in the crook of his neck. Woobin sits up and his cheeks heat from the realisation he was just resting on Serims chest. He was asleep that close to him.

Woobin lifts his legs up from where they were on top of Serims, shifts in his seat. Though, Serim doesn’t move his arm.

“How long for?” Woobin asks, then yawns. Serim giggles fully now.

“30 minutes, maybe?” Serim checks his phone and nods.

Woobin thinks he nods back and blinks, slowly. Maybe too slow. Are his eyes closed?

Serim laughs. “You are still so sleepy.”

Woobin groans and rubs at his eyes. 

“And why do you have energy, now?” He complains. “We all know naps actually just make you more tired.”

Serim laughs again. 

Woobin complaining about nothing; Serim returning with laughs: like clockwork. 

Serim’s bright and choked full of energy and starts to talk about anything. He knows Woobin is too tired to stay engaged but it doesn’t matter. 

He talks about how naps are great bonding exercises. How when he naps with Wonjin and Hyeongjun, he is always put in the middle to make sure the other two don’t start sleep-fighting. How he loves that because he gets to hold both of them. How Hyeongjun talks so cutely in his sleep. How Wonjin fell off the couch last week. 

And Woobin, in a breath, realises just where he is. He’s awake, and yet this is where he gets to be.

“I have to go,” Serim sighs and Woobin wonders how easy it would be to convince him to stay. Woobin would probably only have to ask once and Serim would fall back asleep with him. Woobin would make Wonjin and Hyeongjun some food to apologise for stealing their Serim and they’d forgive him easily.

Instead, he says, “Okay.”

Serim smiles and holds Woobins hand and makes no effort to leave. 

“Can I…kiss your cheek?” Serim asks. 

Woobin nods because what else is he to do? 

So Serim does. Giggles “goodbye kiss!” as he dashes to the door, gone before Woobin can sit up. Maybe that was his plan. 

Woobin melts right into the couch and he’s not sure he’ll ever move again. 

His sleep-fogged brain isn’t sure how long he’s been sitting there before there’s a dip in the couch beside him and Minhee sits down, arm around Woobin’s shoulder. Woobin welcomes the company and lets his head fall onto Minhee’s shoulder. Minhee puts his head on top of Woobin’s.

Woobin relaxes into the silence and plays with one of Minhee’s hands in both of his: something to fiddle with while he thinks. 

“Minhee,” he calls. “Can I ask you something?”

Minhee hums. “Is it about Serim?”

Woobin’s hands still where they are, holding Minhee’s, one on top and one below. 

“You know I like him?” He says. Out loud.

“Hyung,” Minhee snorts. “You just had a date in our living room.” 

Woobin laughs back. 

He did just have a date in their living room. And he does like Serim. He likes him so much.

It was nice at the start, just the giddy smiling. The extra effort into making him laugh to watch his eyes get all bright. 

And now…

Now, it’s so nice it’s filled every crevice in his mind and body with a warmth that he doesn’t know what to do with and he doesn’t know what he’d do without.  

“How did it happen?” Woobin begins. “You and Jungmo?” 

He fiddles with Minhee’s hand again as he talks, “I know I was there the whole time but I mean, how did you go about it?”

Woobin has known Minhee longer than Jungmo has; was there when they met. He had picked Minhee up after dates and watched him as they made their way home and knew that Minhee had never looked so happy.

Minhee lifts his head up and sits for a moment, thinking. 

“There was no way about it. I just lived. Said yes to things.” He tangles his hand in Woobin’s. “I still do.” 

It’s quiet again as they sit with the words. Woobin keeps his head rested on Minhee, looking at their hands. There’s something so private about that love that Woobin wants to give him this space: as if even looking at him in the eye while he talks like this is too invasive. 

It’s felt that way from the beginning. He’s learnt that there’s a certain kind of happiness that Minhee gets from Jungmo that’s not to be protected by or shared with Woobin. Woobin just gets to watch and listen.

“Sometimes I love him so much that I don’t feel like a real person,” Minhee says. “So I just sit alone. Scream a bit. And then go love him more.”

Woobin lets out a breath. “I don’t know if my heart can take that.” 

“It can,” Minhee assures instantly like he’s never met a fact he’s more confident in than this. “You love all of us so well, what’s a little more?”

Woobin’s tempted to argue that Serim and his two boys being described as “a little more” is an understatement but instead he wraps his arms around Minhee and snuggles into his side. Minhee laughs and brings the hand Woobin had been playing with up to pat Woobin’s head.

“You can take your time with it,” Minhee offers. “Serim’s best friends are Wonjin, Hyeongjun, and Seongmin… he’s the most patient man any of us have ever met.”

If Woobin was more awake he would’ve laughed louder, but now he giggles into Minhee’s chest and lets Minhee laugh out into the air.

“You’re doing really well,” Minhee says, kissing the words onto Woobin’s head. 

Then he follows with: “Do you want to bother Seongmin into sharing his snacks?”

Seongmin’s snack stash lives on his bedside table and if Minhee and Woobin are annoying enough he shares them. Woobin, of course, nods and once Minhee stands up and pulls Woobin up off the couch, they barge into Seongmin’s room, launch at him on the bed and settle themselves on either side of him.

Seongmin’s watching a film on his laptop which Minhee starts watching, too. Woobin doesn’t like starting films halfway in so he uses it as background noise as he drifts off. He doesn’t fall asleep but he lets himself be still in the warmth of Seongmin’s pink duvet and it’s almost the same thing. 

When Woobin returns from the bathroom to the green room of the venue of their next gig, he’s immediately met with an incoming wave of miniworld that push him back out into the hall. Woobin holds his arms out, shoulders hunched, asking for some kind of explanation.

“Xdinary Heroes are up now,” Allen replies. 

“We’re gonna watch my bestie, Gunil-hyung!” Taeyoung cheers. He air-drums with the sticks in his hands and spins one of them around to seem cool. 

“I thought Jooyeon was your bias?” Woobin points out, just to be annoying. Jooyeon said hi to Taeyoung once and Taeyoung dropped his drumsticks on Jooyeon’s feet. 

Taeyoung glares at Woobin and just before Woobin has to dodge a drumstick missile, Minhee speaks up.

“Jooyeon! My twin!”

Jooyeon is a bassist like Minhee and has the same shaggy hair but dark with a white streak in his bangs. If Minhee dyed a dark streak in his they would look like inversions of each other. 

So Woobin becomes part of the miniworld sea on its way to the auditorium floor to watch Xdinary Heroes. 

In the middle of X-MAS, Seongmin squishes past the group, heading towards the door. 

“The others are here,” he leans into Woobin to explain, and Woobin follows him backstage. 

Seongmin runs to the door outside and opens it, letting Hyeongjun, Wonjin, and Serim pile in. Woobin stands in the hallway and gives his hugs, one by one as they walk up to him. 

Serim hugs him last and takes advantage of the fact there’s no one behind him in the queue. Woobin is picked up off the ground and spun around before being put back on his feet. Serim’s got eyeliner on and sparkly lipgloss and Woobin feels dizzy. 

“So you’re in there watching Xdinary Heroes, now?” Wonjin points to the auditorium doors. 

“Yeah, we’re up after! And—” It’s then that Woobin sees Minhee and Jungmo’s guitars on stands by the steps up to the stairs, all ready to go. “…and I forgot my mic in the green room.”

Hyeongjun laughs despite it not being a joke. Maybe he’s laughing at Woobin and Woobin’s just too endeared to assume that.

“I’ll come with you,” Serim says because of course he does. Woobin smiles at him in thanks and smiles at the others as they head back to the rest of the group. 

Woobin locates his microphone, sitting in its box on a vanity, as soon as they step into the green room. He doesn’t pick it up immediately but he pushes it to the centre of the table.

“So, what are you playing today?” Serim asks, giddy. 

Woobin snorts and walks over to him, leaning one leg against the back of a couch. 

“Same as always,” he tuts. “You have to wait and see.” He sticks his tongue out, too, for good measure. 

Serim whines and it’s so familiar Woobin almost doesn’t fluster from it. Almost. 

“Well, I guess I don’t need to know the exact songs,” Serim starts. “It’s always gonna be good if it’s miniworld.” 

He has the most ridiculous smile on him. He’s never looked so proud of himself. 

“Oh my, you charmer,” Woobin smiles. He doesn’t mean for it to be ridiculous too, but Serim is nothing if not infectious. 

“You’re curly today,” Serim points out.

Woobin nods. “Seongmin curled it for me.”

Woobin watches Serim gaze at his hair, watches the shine of his waterline as he looks up. 

Serim lifts up a hand to carefully brush a curl out of Woobin’s face. It springs right back into place and they laugh. 

He’s so close. 

He looks even more elegant from here; the eyeliner following, mimicking, the strong line of his eyebrows. Woobin wants to trace it with his finger but he knows it would smudge.

“I always love how he does your eye makeup.” Serim brushes the curl out of his face again, slowly. It will spring back if he lets go but he doesn’t.

“I do too,” Woobin breathes. 

Serim’s palm touches his face, the curve of it slotting perfectly against the curve of Woobin’s cheek. Serim is still looking at his hair as if it is his stare pinning it back, not his fingers. His eyes are so bright and so dark they might have that power. 

Woobin opens his mouth delicately.

“I wonder what colour it was the first day we met,” he breathes. “I can’t remember.”

“It was blue,” Serim looks down, meets Woobin’s eyes; looks down further and flutters back up. 

He is so close he’s out of focus. Woobin’s never felt so still. 

“Can I…?”

Whatever you ask me, I’ll say yes.

The door handle clinks and they jump apart at the noise.

“Ruby, we’re about to—” 

Jungmo stops short, glances between Serim and Woobin a good four times before his mouth drops open and he breaks the silence. “Um… side stage in 5. Sorry for um..” He starts to back out the door, closing it behind him. “Sorry!”

Woobin lets out the breath he was holding as a laugh. Serim follows suit and he’s smiling at Woobin, looking right at him before he shies. The heart in Woobin’s throat settles back down in his chest but it’s still beating like mad. 

“I need to go,” Woobin says, then laughs. As if that wasn’t already established.

“You do,” Serim giggles. “Good luck on stage. You’ll do so well.” 

His words are so genuine and his actions are so awkward, leaning on one hand, dangerously gripped to a spinny chair that has him shifting his weight between his feet. He’s so silly. 

Woobin storms forward and Serim catches him in both arms, spinny chair forgotten. 

Woobin rests his head on Serim’s shoulder and closes his eyes as he’s pulled tighter into a hug, arms around his shoulders. He can smell Serim’s perfume, citrus and wood, and sinks into it until he has to go.

He leaves with a kiss on Serim’s shoulder and tries not to explode on the walk to the stage.

Later, Woobin lays on his bed, stares at the ceiling, and tries and tries not to explode. 

He’s on top of the bed covers and he hasn’t washed off his makeup yet. Seongmin would remove it for him if he asked but he can’t feel his hands and he can’t even bring himself to blink. 

He swallows, a desperate attempt at pushing his heart back down into its place. 

Serim… 

What is he to do about Serim…

He lays unmoving in the dark for a long while before there’s Jungmo’s voice in his head, sounding awfully like “I already told you what to do about it.”

So he sits up and turns on a light and picks up his guitar. 

It’s a week later when he finishes the song and updates Jungmo, sitting opposite him on the rehearsal room couch while the rest of miniworld-plus-seongmin play in the other room. 

“A new song?” Jungmo lights up, eyes wide. He even claps with his pineapple cardigan-paws, arms looped around the guitar in his lap. “Can I hear it?”

Woobin nods and holds a hand out for Jungmo’s guitar.

“It’s only on acoustic so far,” Woobin explains. 

Jungmo nods and smiles and hands the guitar over to Woobin. He shifts in his seat to crisscross his legs, hiding his cat-socked feet as if they might distract him from listening.

Woobin smiles to himself and starts strumming the guitar. After a beat, he sings.

Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch

He finishes the song and settles more comfortably back into the couch, letting the guitar slouch in his lap. He watches Jungmo, waiting for feedback.

“I am sorry about walking in on you two,” is the first thing Jungmo says and Woobin would almost forgive him if Jungmo wasn’t failing to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah, you should be!” Woobin cries. “You owe me a kiss.”

“Come here then.” Jungmo makes a kiss face, leaning into Woobin.

Woobin pushes Jungmo back and snorts as Jungmo falls into the couch cushions.

“From Serim, you idiot.”

Woobin carefully places the guitar on the floor below them and once he sits back up, Jungmo is watching him, smiling. 

“The song is beautiful, Woobin,” Jungmo sings. “I’m proud of you.”

Woobin kicks his leg lightly. “Shut up.”

Jungmo smiles his straight-line smile and scrunches his nose.

“You want a hug?” 

Woobin nods. “Okay.” 

Jungmo unbuttons his cardigan and holds it open with both hands and Woobin laughs and shuffles over on the couch to fall into the hug. He wraps his arms around Jungmo’s waist and Jungmo wraps him up in the cardigan.

It makes Woobin want to laugh, so he does, right into Jungmo’s shoulder. Jungmo laughs too, and then the door.

“Group hug?” Woobin hears Allen shout from somewhere behind him. And then they’re attacked. 

Woobin tries to keep the weight off of Jungmo to not kill him but there’s only so much he can do when there are four new people on his back.

“Ruby has a great new song,” Jungmo chokes out, coughing slightly. “Do you wanna start arranging it now?” 

“Yes!” Taeyoung cheers, muffled, from inside the cuddle pile. “Miniworld assemble!”

“This is about as assembled as you can get,” Minhee notes. 

It’s the day of the festival and Woobin’s emotions are stuck somewhere between finally and oh God, it’s happening. 

The second that the door of the trailer closes, and the staff that directed them there leaves, Taeyoung begins screaming. Jungmo screams too from the couch, his voice breaking when Minhee launches at him. 

“Minhee, don’t kill him before the stage at least,” Allen warns. 

“I would do no such thing!” Minhee replies innocently from where he’s squashing Jungmo into the couch.

Jungmo coughs. “I’ve never felt more alive.” 

“The day has come, I’m going to go insane,” Taeyoung screams, pacing around the square meter of floor space in the trailer.

There’s a knock on the trailer door, causing Minhee to jump and Jungmo to wince, and Seongmin pops his head into the room. 

“Hi!” His pink hair bunched into pigtails under a pink bandana and he’s wearing a lanyard with Cinamorol on it, reading ‘miniworld - MUA’. Woobin pulls him into a hug so quickly he’s lifted off the floor a bit. 

“Seongmin!”

Seongmin pats his clothes down once Woobin lets go of him, rearranging the bag on his shoulder. He glances around the area, scrunching up his nose. 

“I’m allowed to use the makeup tent if we need,” Seongmin explains, “But there’s enough space here.”

He walks over to the small vanity, puts his bag down on the ground and Woobin realises Seongmin is without his makeup cases. He’s about to ask when there’s another noise at the door. 

“Seongmin, here are your cases!” Serim calls from outside the door he’s nudged open with an elbow, both his hands occupied by carrying the makeup cases. 

Woobin shuffles over to hold the door and watches Seongmin empty Serim’s hands one by one. 

Woobin’s looking down at Serim where he’s standing below the trailer steps, waiting for he’s not sure what. 

It’s one, two breaths and Serim’s hands are empty, then full of Woobin. Woobin’s leaned so far out of the door to hug him that Serim pulls him that bit further and carries him, spinning him around before he’s set down on the grass. 

“Hi,” Woobin says. 

“Hi,” Serim says. Woobin looks. He’s wearing dark pink cargo pants tucked into massive boots, a white tank and a black zippy-hoodie left unzipped, slipped just slightly off his shoulder and held there as if by magic. 

There’s a miniworld wave a minute later, each of them pouring out of the trailer to hug Seongmin and Serim in a tangle of limbs and giddiness. 

“Miniworld!” 

Woobin looks up to see Wonjin, screaming so loudly, and Hyeongjun, smiling so loudly, running full speed towards them. 

Woobin is almost knocked off his feet when they barge right into the group hug but it feels so complete he can’t do anything but laugh. His body is filled with energy and he wants to do nothing but stay here. 

They break the hug eventually but Woobin keeps Hyeongjun captive. He’s got a soft thin sweater on, tucked into shorts, and if he thinks Woobin is letting go of him he’s wrong. 

It’s then he notices Hyeongjun’s got a lanyard on, too.

“If anyone asks, they are my assistants,” Seongmin explains. 

That sends laughs around the group. 

“I know it’s not the best excuse considering Wonjin-hyung thinks I do your makeup with stationary highlighters,” Seongmin snorts. “But it’ll do as long as you guys don’t try anything.” He glares at the three, Wonjin in particular. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wonjin tuts. “I’m an expert. I could do their makeup.”

“Wonjin can do mine,” Minhee volunteers, an insane grin on his face. 

“Absolutely not,” Seongmin scoffs, reaching out for Minhee’s arm. “You are going first to make sure that doesn’t happen.” 

Minhee pretends to be annoyed but lets Seongmin’s hand pull him easily back to the trailer. 

Woobin squeezes Hyeongjun once more before letting him run off towards the others, and immediately he feels a tap on his hand. 

Serim is standing beside him, the inch his boots give him on Woobin being filled with his smile. 

“How are you feeling?”

Woobin smiles. “Like I’m going to explode.”

Serim laughs and takes his hand properly. “I would very much like it if you didn’t explode.”

“I’ll try my best then,” Woobin promises with a giggle. 

“Your best is perfect.” Serim squeezes Woobin’s hand and doesn’t let go for a long time. 

Seongmin takes his time with all of their makeup, adding some extra details here and there since he’s got the time. Minhee is getting his cheeks sparkled, enhancing his freckles, while the rest of them squish onto any surface of the trailer they can find, huddled around a Nintendo Switch. 

Woobin is sunk deep into the small couch, Serim and Allen on either side of him. Hyeongjun is sitting half on him and half on Serim, his head resting in the space between their shoulders. Woobin can’t move at all and isn’t sure which limbs are his. He’s also not sure he’s ever felt so content.

Once it’s Hyeongjun’s turn to lose to Wonjin in MarioKart, he leans forwards, and Woobin can watch Serim’s side profile as he watches their friends and laughs. Serim meets his eyes and smiles.

“Wonjin prides himself in MarioKart above all else,” Serim laughs, just loud enough for Woobin to hear amongst the screaming. 

“A truly employable skill to have,” Woobin snorts. 

“I’m shocking at the Switch version,” Serim confesses. “But the Wii is where it’s at anyway.”

Woobin nods excitedly, as still as he can manage to not knock Hyeongjun off his game. “Exactly! The only MarioKart that matters.” 

“Alright then,” Serim clears his throat, smiling, and holds out a hand to Woobin behind Hyeongjun’s back. “Seo Woobin, I hereby challenge you to a Wii MarioKart competition whenever the opportunity arises.”

Woobin laughs and shakes Serim’s hand. “Challenge accepted.”

“It’s a date,” Serim scrunches his nose as he lets go of Woobin’s hand. 

Woobin brings his hand back to his lap and looks at the screen, to look anywhere that’s not Serim. 

Wonjin finishes the race and jumps up from his seat on the floor to cheer. Hyeongjun finishes a moment later and sighs, slumping forwards a tad. Woobin puts a hand on his back and pats him, laughing with each pat. 

“You did well,” he rubs into Hyeongjun’s shoulder. 

“You did so well!” Serim puts a hand on Hyeongjun too, his fingers slightly on top of Woobin’s. His heart is beating in his palm. 

“Allen,” Seongmin calls from the other end of the room. “You’re up now!”

Allen pushes himself to his feet with a hand on Woobin’s knee as Minhee and his sparkly face plop themselves into Jungmo’s lap. Jungmo wraps his arms around Minhee and slips them into Minhee’s hoodie pocket, chin perched on Minhee’s shoulder. 

At the same moment, Hyeongjun launches himself into the vacant spot on the couch, leaving Woobin and Serim’s laps to curl up against the armrest. 

With Hyeongjun’s back no long there, their hands are suspended in the air, barely touching. Serim curls his fingers, taking Woobin’s hand properly and letting them fall into his lap. 

Woobin is next in the makeup queue so swaps seats with Allen once Seongmin has finished. Where Minhee was painted in sparkles and pale colours, Allen’s eyes are edged in fiery red.

By that time the group had split, Minhee and Hyeongjun were currently in a heated race, Jungmo watching them, but Serim, Taeyoung and Wonjin had gone to play outside. Allen runs out into the sun to join them. 

“What is your plan for me today?” Woobin looks up at Seongmin, fluttering around the fold-out chair Woobin is sitting on, reorganising all his equipment. 

“I’m thinking…” He holds a makeup brush with the handle side poked into his cheek as he contemplates, glancing around Woobin’s face. “Shimmery eyes… and peachy-purple cheeks? Sunset colours?”

Hello, sunset. 

Woobin smiles and nods, making Seongmin giggle excitedly, rushing around to get started. 

“Today is so much fun already!”

Woobin smiles with his teeth this time. 

Minhee’s got sparkly freckles and pink, glittery eyes. Allen’s lips are a dark glossy red. 

“Jungmo-hyungs’s getting some eyeliner hearts,” Seongmin tells him. “And Taeyoung is getting a whole lot of glitter.”

“It annoys him so much and he looks cute with it," Seongmin giggles as he starts applying Woobin’s blush. “A win-win situation.”

“Did you do Serim-hyung’s makeup today?” Woobin asks. 

Seongmin nods and breathes out a laugh. “He asked me to make him look pretty today.” 

“He always looks pretty,” Woobin says.

“He does.” 

There’s a knock on the door of the trailer, then. The door is open but the staff member still knocks against it to get their attention, clipboard in their other hand. 

“Miniworld ready for soundcheck?” 

Woobin nods but lets Jungmo do the talking while Seongmin quickly finishes up with Woobin’s eyes. 

“I’ll touch it up once you’re back.” Seongmin pats him out the door.

He makes his way outside and waves to the boys playing outside. Serim runs up to him and Woobin mistakes his smile for the sun.

Woobin hugs Serim lightly before stepping back.

“Um so… don’t ask why,” Woobin starts. His arms are still on Serim’s shoulders until he realises and drops them to his side. “But can you not listen to our soundcheck.” 

Serim turns his head to the side like a confused dog. 

“I just… want you to hear it for the first time during the actual show.”

Serim smiles at that, head flicking back upright. “Of course.” He puts his hands over his ears. “I cannot hear a thing,” he says, louder than the rest of the conversation.

Woobin laughs as loud. “See you in a bit, silly.”

“See you!” Serim shouts, ears still covered. “Good luck!” 

Sound-checks are always where it properly sinks in: knowing the empty space in front of them is going to be full of people, listening and watching. Listening to my song, he thinks, and then decides not to think. Maybe now is not the time for thinking. No more thinking. 

Each member checks their instruments, they play a chorus of each song on their set list, all while Woobin actively refuses to think.

Allen hugs him with one arm as they walk back to their trailer.

“It’s a beautiful song, Ruby,” he smiles, squeezing his hand on Woobin’s shoulder. 

Woobin lightly knocks his head against Allen’s in thanks. 

Woobin senses Allen has more he could say, but they’ve reached the trailer and Woobin’s not sure he can say anything coherent. Instead, Woobin pulls him into a proper hug—Allen rests his head on Woobin’s shoulder and hugs him back. 

“How did it go?” 

Serim runs towards them, freezing a step away. Allen pulls back from Woobin to give Serim a small hug. 

“Smoothly!” Allen replies, then hooks his chin on Serim’s chin to say, “Woobin’s song is incredible.” 

Woobin glares at Allen, who just cutely smiles at him and runs off to the rest of the group.

Serim laughs through his words, “I’m so excited.”

“Me too.” 

Woobin is met with cheers when he steps out of the makeshift dressing booth in the trailer and quickly runs to the couch. 

“So handsome!” Hyeongjun shouts with his hands cupped around his mouth as Wonjin leads an applause. 

They’ve done that for each member so far, Taeyoung posing for compliments for at least a minute, and Jungmo’s ears getting so red Seongmin considered putting concealer on them. 

Woobin smiles for long enough that they all can see it then hides his face.

Their outfits today are all-white with splashes of colour between them: Woobin’s wearing a tank, and a loose button-up tucked into the front of long shorts. All white except for peach-coloured socks. 

Minhee’s beret is baby-pink, as well as his Converse, tucked under him as he’s curled up on a chair playing on his phone. Taeyoung’s top is long-sleeved, cropped and pale green, and he’s covered in glitter as promised, his face reflecting every bit of light there is. Allen’s yellow jacket is draped over him like a blanket, head resting on the armrest of the couch. Jungmo’s playing with his flowy purple trousers as Seongmin does his makeup. 

They all look so pretty. 

“You look so pretty,” Serim speaks and he’s right beside Woobin. Their noses almost hit when Woobin turns his head to look at him. He backs up to get Serim back in focus.

“Thank you,” Woobin smiles. “You…look really great today.”

Serim looks down at himself as if he forgot what he was wearing somehow. If Woobin looked like that he would be so aware of it. He wouldn’t even dream. 

“Thank you!” Serim looks back up and giggles. “I asked Seongmin to do my makeup too.” 

He moves his face close to Woobin again, eyes closed to let Woobin look at his eyeliner. Woobin looks at the black lines traced along his eyes, at his eyelashes brushed against his cheeks, at his cheeks, at his nose, at his lips, and then he remembers how to speak. 

“I guessed so.”

Serim opens his eyes and Woobin’s not sure he doesn’t die. 

“You guessed that Seongmin did my makeup?” he looks genuinely shocked for a moment, then pouts. “You don’t think I could do my own eyeliner this well?” 

He whines through his pouts and hits Woobin with closed, soft fists. 

Woobin snorts and catches Serim’s hand mid-swing. 

“I think you could do it incredibly well by yourself,” Woobin sings. “I just know Seongmin’s style.”

Serim stops then, his pretend upset forgotten. His hand goes limp in Woobin’s and Serim just looks at him.

“What?” Woobin questions.

“Nothing,” Serim says quietly. A small smile. “You’re just…great.”

Woobin grins so wide his cheeks hurt. 

It feels like only minutes before they’re on standby, and hours while they stand there, waiting. Their nervous energy is all coming out in different ways: Allen mouthing to himself, practising until the last minute. Taeyoung is jumping up and down and Jungmo is narrowly avoiding collisions with Taeyoung’s drumsticks. 

Woobin looks at Minhee’s chin and talks. 

“It’ll go well, right? We won’t mess up?” He rushes. “And my song will go okay? Do you remember when we have to switch places? After ‘Realize’?”

Woobin trails off as Minhee leans down, kisses Woobin’s ear, and then stands back up again to continue looking down at Woobin. His eyes are big and sparkly and clueless. 

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” Woobin sighs.

Minhee, smiling, shakes his head. 

Woobin takes Minhee’s hand and tries to steal some of his empty-brainness. 

He only lets go when he takes the last step off the stairs and he smiles instinctually, feeling the hot lights on his skin. 

“Hello! We are miniworld,” Woobin shouts. 

Hundreds of strangers are screaming. Four of his favourite people stand behind a barrier to his left: they’re screaming. 

His fingers loosen and tighten again around his orange microphone until it feels like an extension of his hand. 

“Please enjoy your stay.”

He’s having so much fun. Any glances he takes at the others would tell him they feel the same. They smile through each song, and in between Woobin can hear Jungmo’s laugh in his in-ears. 

The stage lights aren’t that bright today: the sun acting as the spotlight. It’s so warm it feels like a hug. 

They watch the sun move slowly closer to the horizon as they play. The world is gold once they get to their last song, Woobin front and centre with an acoustic guitar in hand.

Put your lips close to mine 

as long as they don’t touch 

Woobin has rehearsed the song enough that it feels comfortable. His voice sings one word after the other without thought, one step after another. 

Walking alone and walking in front of a peering audience is different, though. Not alone, Woobin corrects. Minhee’s voice sings in tandem, each word in time with Woobin. Jungmo is looking at Woobin as he plays. Taeyoung and Allen bind them all together like glitter glue. 

Serim is watching. Woobin directs every word at him. 

Two headlights shine in the dead of night

and I will get you, get you alone

It’s not quite an only-the-two-of-us-in-the-world moment. It’s an us, despite moment. Woobin is surrounded by so much good, so much energy, so so many faces and he looks at Serim. 

Your name has echoed in my mind

and I just think you should, think you should know. 

He should be told how lovely he is. Even if he knows it. He deserves to hear it every day. He deserves.

I’ll follow you, follow you home

Serim’s hug is so warm. 

His arms are so strong and Woobin is so tired. 

“Seo Woobin! You were just,” Serim starts. “So incredible.”

Woobin is too tired and too getting-squished-to-death to do anything but smile into Serim’s shoulder. 

“The song… it’s so beautiful,” he sighs. “You’re… so—“

“WOOBIN!”

Woobin didn’t think he could get more squished-to-death than before, but do not give Wonjin a challenge. Wonjin’s chin is perching on Woobin's shoulder as he screams, unbelievably close to Woobin’s ear. Woobin breaks away from Serim to hit Wonjin who flinches. 

“Your song was so good!” Wonjin cheered, grinning cheekily when just a moment ago he was cowering. 

“There won’t be any more if you deafen me,” Woobin says to scold him. Woobin then hugs him, to hug him. 

After their hugs, they wander over to the guest area: most of them still attached to someone or other.

Hyeongjun is sandwiched between Minhee and Jungmo, looking so tiny Woobin almost bursts out crying. Seongmin pulls Allen over to the food stands—Allen ready to buy anything Seongmin asks for. Wonjin is mingling, gesturing with his lanyard card and, Woobin guesses, revelling in the opportunity to completely make up a new life story for himself for every stranger he meets. Taeyoung is talking to Jooyeon and is so red he looks sunburnt. 

Serim sticks close to Woobin. When they order from the bar, Woobin gets water that he finishes quickly, and Serim gets cherry cider. 

Some members of other bands come over to catch up with Woobin. Serim greets them kindly, getting along with them in an instant. If Woobin doesn’t know them, Serim does most of the talking, arm around Woobin.

He holds his drink in his free hand. When he offers Woobin sips, Woobin puts his hands over Serim’s as he drinks it.

They chat with Jungsu for a long while before he excuses himself back to his members. 

Woobin smiles goodbye and slumps once it’s just them again. He is sleepy.

Woobin leans into Serim, head on shoulder, to rest. Serim touches his shoulder, trails down to the small of his back. 

He’s touching the top of Woobin’s shorts. It makes Woobin shiver. It probably passes for him being cold by the way Serim hugs him into his side with his other arm and giggles. 

‘For someone so warm you get cold so easily’ Serim said once, laughing as he piled a shivering Woobin into his arms. He held him for ages that day. 

“Hold on,” Serim whispers and steps aside; the furthest they’ve been apart all evening. 

He breaks the spell holding his hoodie perfectly off his shoulders to take it off. It’s in his hands, and then Woobin’s shoulders. 

Serim watches him as he slips his arms into the hoodie. Serim doesn’t let the hoodie sit gracefully off Woobin’s shoulder: he’s got two handfuls of it, placing it where he wants it, where Woobin will be warmest. His smile gets wider the second Woobin is fully wrapped up.

The hoodie is black, stark against Woobin’s white outfit. It’s obvious that the hoodie is not his. This is someone else’s, it says. I am someone’s…

Serim steps back smiling, looking up and down Woobin, from his eyes to his hands hidden under the hoodie sleeves and Woobin is utterly distraught that this man hasn’t kissed him yet.

They end up moulding back into one group soon after, everyone this odd mix of exhausted and energised. They decide to head back to the rehearsal space and at the news, Hyeongjun smiles and shuffles over to Serim and does his best attempt at laying down on him while standing up. 

Serim grins and cups Hyeongjun’s face. “Are you sure you’re not too tired?”

He looks so fond. 

“I’ll be fine,” Hyeongjun mumbles into Serim’s chest. 

Hyeongjun is more than fine by the time they get back to the rehearsal space, he is the most energised of all of them. Woobin guesses that it’s a sugar rush. He can already picture Serim having to carry the boy home. 

“What are you smiling at?” Serim asks, poking Woobin’s arm. 

Woobin pokes back. “Not telling you.”

Serim pouts; upset that he isn’t involved in something, as always, even if that something is the inner workings of Woobin’s brain. 

You’re involved, Woobin thinks, sending the thought to Serim in an imaginary heart-shaped letter. You’re so many parts of me. 

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

They start walking and it’s only after a few minutes that Woobin realises they’re following the same route they walked months ago now. 

Woobin’s still got Serim’s hoodie on, and Woobin gave Serim one of the spare jumpers he keeps at the rehearsal space. He leaves the grey hoodie untucked, letting it fall to his thigh. Serim swings their arms as they walk. 

When they get to the street of cherry blossom trees they slow their pace. The trees are bare now. The way the branches are outlined in light by the moon and the street lamps is beautiful. 

Serim stops where he is and Woobin follows, facing him. 

“Can I hear it again?” he asks. “Just for me this time.” He asks. 

Woobin giggles. “That time was just for you.”

Serim’s bright, bright eyes are blown wide. Woobin doesn’t think he’s ever seen Serim this speechless. Woobin laughs and laughs. 

Does he not know that everything is for him?

“Hold on,” Serim stutters. Woobin laughs and laughs. “You… that beautiful song. That’s for me?” 

Woobin nods. He feels quiet now, shy. Of course, it’s for you. 

“You’re…so wonderful.”

And what is Woobin supposed to do with that? He smiles shyly, and tries to shush him with a hand on Serim’s chest to push him, lightly. Serim falls half a step back and then he’s close again. Woobin’s hand is still on his chest. 

He drops it and Serim catches, brings it back up to where they can see, Serim’s hand curving around Woobin’s. 

“Can…I kiss your hand?” 

Woobin nods. 

Serim lifts it up and presses it to his smile, his lips brushing the backs of Woobin’s fingers.

“Serim?” 

“Yes?

“Can you please kiss me?”

Woobin feels a hand cup his face, Serim’s thumb caressing his cheek so lightly. He feels his hand, held in Serim’s, pulled in towards the softness of Serim’s chest. He lets himself keep it there. Even when Serim’s hand leaves to hold Woobin’s other cheek, he keeps it there.

Woobin is so still and Serim is moving. He is nodding his head, again and again. His thumbs are squishing Woobin’s cheeks, drawing patterns on them.

Woobin looks into his eyes and looks and looks until it’s dark and his breath completely leaves him. 

There’s something so comforting about having every part of your mind and body all in agreement: every molecule deciding that this is the most important thing they can do. A moment of assurance. A moment of trust.

Woobin’s head is tilted back an inch (courtesy of Serim’s platform boots, one of them wedged between Woobin’s own two feet) but Serim holds him through it. The hands on his cheeks are so strong and careful.

His other hand meets Serim’s chest, then moves by his shoulder. He has a handful of the hoodie in his grip and he holds on. Woobin is safe here. He likes it so much.

They pull apart for a moment, but in a breath, Serim’s pulling Woobin back towards him and Woobin’s whole body follows: a step closer, curved against him. Woobin’s palm is on Serim’s chest and the back of his hand almost touches his own.

He kisses Serim and Serim kisses back and it feels like all of the somethings. It’s monumental and minuscule at once. It’s Serim.

He doesn’t realise they’ve stopped until Woobin can see Serim’s eyes again. Big and bright and dark and full of happy. 

In a beat, Serim picks him up and spins him around: just like he did earlier. Except that this time it’s only them around and instead of the sun, it’s the moon above them that Serim’s smile is rivalling.

Serim is so happy. 

“I’m so happy,” Serim whispers because he says everything he feels even when you can see it so clearly in his big bright eyes. 

“I make you happy?” Woobin asks because he wants to hear it and Serim will say it.

Serim nods, up and down up and down. Giddy. Just like earlier. “You do. So so much.”

Woobin hugs him, head in the crook of his neck because if he doesn’t he’ll kiss him again. When they pull away, Serim kisses each of Woobin’s cheeks and Woobin pinks as if Serim left lipstick marks behind.

“Should we head back?” 

Woobin’s stomach feels too heavy to carry as he pushes open the rehearsal room door. He half-expects the world to have stopped: that his friends will all be frozen in place and be stuck there forever.

“Woobin-hyung!”

Hyeongjun runs over to him, scrunched-up face smushing into Woobin’s chest as he pretend-cries with his whole body. Woobin lets go of Serim’s hand to hold Hyeongjun. 

“They’re making fun of me, hyung,” Hyeongjun whines. 

He turns his head against Woobin’s chest to glare back at the rest of the group, scattered around the room in various states of laughter. Wonjin is half on the floor, dragging a couch cushion behind him like he fell off the couch from the power of his laugh. 

“What are they saying?” Woobin asks. 

“They’re saying I look like the blowfish teacher from SpongeBob.”

Woobin laughs quietly. He tries to do it subtly enough that Hyeongjun doesn’t hear, but Hyeongjun’s ear is rest right on Woobin’s chest and his head is slotted right under Woobin’s chin: There’s not a thing Woobin could hide from him. 

“They’re not wrong, though,” Woobin giggles. “You sort’ve do.”

Hyeongjun cries. “Not you too.”

Woobin laughs louder and swings Hyeongjun side-to-side in their hug. Serim laughs too, loud in Woobin’s ear as he’s standing close: chin hovering over his shoulder. Serim pats Hyeongjun’s head and they feel like one body. 

“We say it with love,” Serim assures. 

“Yeah! I had a crush on Mrs Puff back then,” Jungmo adds and Woobin doesn’t even flinch. 

Minhee scrunches his eyebrows. “I thought you had a crush on Squidward?”

“Squidward?” Taeyoung exclaims, shocked little face waiting for Jungmo to comment. 

“I’d like to help him open up,” Jungmo shrugs. “Let some love in.” 

Laughs come then, Hyeongjun’s the loudest. They laugh so much Woobin forgets there is anything in the world to be worried about.

While his friends are being his friends, screaming, fighting, laughing, Woobin holds Serim’s hand. The whole night he doesn’t let go and the world doesn’t fall apart. 

It might just be one of their things now, Woobin realises: Wonjin screeches when he gets excited; Taeyoung can’t drink coffee; Seongmin’s favourite colour is red; Woobin likes holding Serim’s hand. 

And Serim likes holding his.

Woobin only lets go of Serim’s hand to hug him goodbye. When they separate, Woobin stops him with a hand on one cheek and leans in to kiss the other. He thinks it will come off as a cheek kiss to anyone else, but his lips brush the corner of Serim’s mouth. 

Serim looks dizzy when Woobin steps back. 

Hyeongjun grabs Serim’s hand as they wave goodbye and walk out. Maybe Serim would’ve stood there forever if Hyeongjun didn’t.

When the door slides shut, everything piles on Woobin in an instant. He falls to the couch, lies down, and stares at the opposite wall. Everything is out of focus.

There’s a hand on his face, the thumb brushing across his cheek—squishing it and releasing it in a cycle. 

“Our Ruby,” Allen coos. His voice is so close Woobin thinks he’s crouched down beside the couch. Or maybe he’s sitting on the floor. “Well done.” He’s giggling. 

There’s another hand in his hair then, Woobin thinks it’s Minhee. 

“We’re very proud of you!” Jungmo calls from further away. 

“Wait, what are we talking about?” Taeyoung questions, genuine confusion in his voice. “What’s happening?”

“You are so behind sometimes…” Seongmin tuts. 

Woobin can hear the vague sounds of them fighting and decides to help Taeyoung out. 

“Serim…” is what he manages to whisper. It’s enough because, after a pause of a few seconds, Taeyoung screams. 

“Wait… You two? Today? FINALLY! I mean not like finally, just like…that’s amazing. That’s so great! You…”

“Youngtae shut up.” The hand in his hair vibrates when Minhee speaks. He was right.

“Yes, good idea,” Taeyoung says and it makes Woobin snort. 

Wonjin sends a picture in the group chat: a blurry picture of Serim piggybacking a very sleepy Hyeongjun on their way home. 

Woobin asks if everyone got home safely. There’s a chorus of ‘yes’s and a picture Jungmo sends of Taeyoung curled up in a ball on the floor, which Woobin guesses is a reaction to how Hyeongjun’s cheek squishes against Serim’s shoulder in the last picture. 

Woobin laughs at the picture of Taeyoung and saves the one of Hyeongjun and Serim. 

It’s his phone lock screen for weeks after. 

When Woobin opens up his phone, he feels Serim smile into his shoulder from where they’re squished together on Woobin’s couch. 

Woobin clicks into a game and plays a round of it while Serim watches, cheering quietly against Woobin’s ear. Once he dies, as expected Serim makes grabby hands for the phone. Serim gloats about being incredible at the game and then dies in about five seconds.

In defeat, Serim slouches further into Woobin, head fully on his shoulder. It’s 3 pm on a Saturday afternoon and Woobin wants to sleep here. 

Serim’s wearing those embroidered jeans again: orange, peach, pink flowers swirling the length of his hip to his knee. Woobin touches them, traces their outlines with his finger because he can. 

“Did Seongmin embroider these for you?” Woobin asks. 

Serim nods. “He did.” 

They are so connected, they were from the very beginning. All it took was the tugging of the thread and they were brought together like the last stitch in a seam. 

Serim had just been waiting. 

There’s a world out there. 

The door to Minhee’s room opens and he skips out, looking energised and giddy. He sends them a smile as he walks over to the couch. 

“I’m going out with Jungmo,” Minhee shares. 

He leans down to where Woobin is sunk into the couch, against Serim, and kisses his cheek. When he stands up again, Serim has a hand in the air, waving goodbye. Minhee high-fives it, and they interlock fingers. Woobin watches their joined hands shake side to side. 

“Tell him I say hi,” Serim smiles. 

Minhee nods his head happily. “Of course.” 

And oh. 

Serim will be here when Minhee gets home. 

Serim is here.

The world is right here. 

Bonus:

He meets Serim at the stage door and he’s wearing his orange puffer jacket. As Woobin runs to him, he sees Serim’s holding something carefully in his hand. It’s a flower; orange in the centre, and fades to yellow on the petals. It blends right into Serim as he holds it out for Woobin to take. 

Woobin smiles as he carefully takes it from Serim’s hands, replaces the flower with his hand and Serim holds it just as softly. 

“You’ve been to so many of my gigs, though?” Woobin points out. If this is a congratulations gift, why now?

“It just reminded me of you,” Serim answers. 

Woobin doesn’t know what to say to that so he just looks at Serim and smiles and smiles. 

“I also got a rose for Taeyoung.” 

He holds up a red rose, fingers pressed between the spaces of the trimmed thorns. 

Woobin squeezes the hand in his and starts to walk Serim towards the dressing room.

“Please, can I watch you give it to him?” Woobin asks but he’s already moving and Serim is already following. “He might actually cry.”

Serim is already following him. He thinks Serim might follow him anywhere.