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Early in the morning at the dormitory, Woonhak is seen seating cross-legged on the couch, flipping through his phone as the soft aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air.
“Good morning.”
Woonhak glanced up, the words dying on his lips as he saw Riwoo shuffle into the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. But it wasn’t just Riwoo’s usual morning daze that caught his attention—it was the hoodie he was wearing.
Woonhak’s hoodie.
It was oversized on Riwoo’s slender frame, the sleeves hanging well past his hands and the hem brushing against his thighs. The deep navy blue fabric looked cozy, worn, and undeniably familiar.
“Morning,” Riwoo murmured, collapsing onto the couch beside Woonhak and curling up like a cat.
Woonhak blinked, his heart doing a strange little flip. “Uh… is that mine?”
Riwoo opened one eye, glancing down at himself as if only just noticing. “Oh. Yeah, I guess it is. It was on your bed, and I was cold, so…”
“You went into my room?” Woonhak asked, though his voice lacked any real heat.
“Yeah,” Riwoo said with a lazy smile. “You weren’t in there, and I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
Woonhak didn’t. In fact, he minded so little that he suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands. He fidgeted with the edge of his phone case, sneaking another glance at Riwoo, who was now scrolling through his own phone like it was the most natural thing in the world.
______
The rest of the morning passed uneventfully—or as uneventfully as it could when Woonhak’s brain refused to stop replaying the image of Riwoo in his hoodie. By lunchtime, the dorm had returned to its usual chaos. As the members have decided to spend time at the upper dormitory.
Sungho was in the kitchen, attempting to recreate a dish he had seen on a cooking show as Leehan was watching his little fishies per usual. Jaehyun and Taesan were arguing over which movie to watch, their voices rising and falling like a rollercoaster.
And in the middle of it all was Riwoo, still wearing Woonhak’s hoodie as he lounged on the floor with a plate of snacks. “You’re awfully cozy today,” Jaehyun remarked, gesturing at Riwoo with a handful of popcorn. Riwoo shrugged. “It’s comfortable.”
Leehan poked his head out, his eyes narrowing in mock scrutiny. “Isn’t that Woonhak’s?” Riwoo nodded, completely unfazed. “Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing,” Leehan said, though the corner of his mouth twitched. He exchanged a look with Sungho, who smirked knowingly. Taesan plopped down beside Riwoo, tilting his head. “You know, Hyung, you’ve been wearing a lot of Woonhak’s stuff lately.”
At that, Woonhak—who had been silently sipping his water—choked. “I have not,” Riwoo said, raising an eyebrow. “Really?” Taesan grinned. “What about that gray sweatshirt yesterday? Or the black beanie last week? And now this hoodie?” Riwoo frowned, as if trying to recall. “Huh. I guess I have.”
Jaehyun snorted. “You’re practically raiding his wardrobe at this point.” Woonhak opened his mouth to say something—anything—but no words came out. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh, deny it, or tell everyone to stop teasing Riwoo. Instead, he settled for awkward silence, his cheeks burning.
_____
Over the next few days, Woonhak began to notice it more and more. Riwoo borrowing his clothes wasn’t new, exactly—he’d done it a few times before when they were running late or when his own laundry wasn’t done. But now it seemed to happen almost daily. A shirt here, a hoodie there. Even Woonhak’s socks had somehow ended up on Riwoo’s feet once. And the strangest part? Riwoo acted like it was the most natural thing in the world.
One afternoon, Woonhak found Riwoo in the living room wearing his white t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and—was that his bracelet? “Hey,” Woonhak said, leaning against the doorframe. “Hey,” Riwoo replied without looking up from his phone. “You’re wearing my clothes again,” Woonhak said.
“Am I?” Riwoo glanced down, then back up with a nonchalant shrug. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I am. They’re comfy.” Woonhak ran a hand through his hair, torn between exasperation and amusement. “You have your own clothes, you know.”
“Yours are better,” Riwoo said simply, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Woonhak’s heart did that annoying little flip again.
By the end of the week, the other members had turned it into a running joke.
“Careful, Woonhak,” Jaehyun said one morning as they prepared to leave for practice. “If Riwoo keeps this up, you might have to start labeling your stuff~.”
“I don’t mind,” Woonhak said before he could stop himself.
The room fell silent.
Then Taesan let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “Did you guys hear that? He doesn’t mind!”
“Of course, he doesn’t,” Sungho said, smirking. “He’s probably secretly thrilled.”
“I am not,” Woonhak protested, though his red ears betrayed him.
Leehan chuckled. “It’s okay, Woonhak. We get it. It’s cute.”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun added with a grin. “You two are like a couple already.”
____
Later that night, as Woonhak lay in bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about what the others had said. Were they right? Did he secretly like it when Riwoo wore his clothes? The answer was embarrassingly obvious.
Yes. Yes, he did.
It wasn’t just that Riwoo looked good in his clothes (though he did— too good, honestly). It was the fact that Riwoo felt comfortable enough to wear them, to make them his own. It made Woonhak feel special in a way he couldn’t quite put into words.
But it also made him nervous. What if Riwoo didn’t see it the same way? What if this was just a casual, innocent habit for him?
Woonhak sighed, pulling the blanket over his head. He was in so much trouble.
_____
On a lazy afternoon, the group members are seen across the dorm, enjoying their day off. Riwoo was in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge, while Woonhak sat at the dining table, pretending to read a magazine.
“Woonhak,” Riwoo called, his voice muffled.
“Yeah?”
“Do you have another hoodie? I can’t find mine.”
Woonhak looked up, startled. “Uh… yeah, I think so. You can check my room.”
Riwoo disappeared down the hall, and a few minutes later, he returned wearing Woonhak’s red hoodie. It was one of his favorites, and seeing Riwoo in it made his chest tighten.
“You’re wearing that one now?” Woonhak asked, trying to keep his voice steady. Riwoo shrugged. “It’s warm.” Jaehyun, who had been lounging on the couch, looked up with a knowing grin. “You know, at this point, you might as well just move into Woonhak’s closet.”
Riwoo raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Taesan said, leaning over the back of the couch, “you’ve basically claimed his wardrobe as your own.” Sungho nodded sagely. “It’s a bold move.”
“Very bold,” Leehan agreed, smirking. Riwoo rolled his eyes, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks. “You guys are ridiculous.”
“We’re not wrong,” Jaehyun said, winking at Woonhak.
Woonhak groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Can you all just stop?”
Riwoo tilted his head, looking between Woonhak and the others. “Wait… is this a thing? Like, do you care if I wear your stuff?”
Woonhak’s heart skipped a beat. “No! I mean… it’s fine. I don’t mind.”
“See?” Riwoo said, turning back to the others. “He doesn’t mind.”
“That’s not the point,” Jaehyun said, laughing.
“Then what is the point?” Riwoo asked, clearly confused.
Sungho leaned back, crossing his arms. “The point is, Woonhak likes it when you wear his clothes. Right, Woonhak?” Woonhak froze, his face turning bright red. “I—what—no—I mean—” Riwoo blinked, his expression unreadable. “Wait… is that true?”
The room fell silent, all eyes on Woonhak.
He took a deep breath, his palms sweaty. “Maybe,” he admitted quietly. Riwoo stared at him for a moment before breaking into a soft smile. “That’s cute.” Woonhak looked up, startled. “It is?”
“Yeah,” Riwoo said, his smile widening. “I like wearing your clothes because they feel and smell like you. They’re comforting.” Woonhak’s heart felt like it might burst. “Oh.” Riwoo laughed, reaching out to ruffle Woonhak’s hair. “You’re so easy to fluster.”
The others groaned in unison.
“Get a room,” Taesan muttered, throwing a pillow at them.
______
From that day on, things between Woonhak and Riwoo shifted—just slightly, but enough.
Riwoo still borrowed Woonhak’s clothes, but now there was an unspoken understanding between them. Each time Riwoo slipped on one of Woonhak’s hoodies or shirts, he would flash him a small, knowing smile, as if silently saying, I know you like this. And each time, Woonhak would blush, his heart doing a happy little dance.
The other members, of course, didn’t let up with their teasing.
One morning, Riwoo walked into the living room wearing Woonhak’s gray sweatshirt—a particularly soft and oversized one that Riwoo seemed to favor. Jaehyun, who was sipping coffee on the couch, immediately smirked.
“Good morning, Woonhak’s sweatshirt,” he said loudly, earning a snort from Taesan. Riwoo yawned, entirely unfazed. “Morning.”
“Does he even own his own clothes anymore?” Sungho joked, glancing up from his book. Woonhak, who was sitting at the dining table, buried his face in his hands. “Can you guys not do this every single time?”
“Not our fault it’s entertaining,” Leehan said with a grin.
“It’s fine,” Riwoo said casually, plopping down beside Woonhak. “They’re just jealous.”
The room erupted into laughter, and even Woonhak couldn’t help but smile, though his face was still bright red.
____
As the days turned into weeks, Woonhak began to notice other little things about Riwoo.
It wasn’t just the way he wore Woonhak’s clothes—it was the way he made himself at home in Woonhak’s space. He’d often wander into Woonhak’s room without knocking, flopping onto his bed like it was his own. He’d steal Woonhak’s snacks without asking, claiming it was “fair game” since they shared everything anyway.
And, perhaps most endearingly, he had a habit of falling asleep wherever Woonhak was—on the couch, at the dining table, even during movie nights when Woonhak was sitting on the floor. Riwoo would lean against him, his head drooping until he was fast asleep on Woonhak’s shoulder.
The first time it happened, Woonhak had frozen, unsure of what to do. But now, it felt natural—like Riwoo belonged there, right by his side.
At night, the group decided to watch a movie together.
The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the TV screen. Everyone was sprawled out on the couch or floor, surrounded by blankets and bowls of popcorn.
Riwoo, predictably, was wearing one of Woonhak’s hoodies again—a soft, cream-colored one that looked far too big on him. He sat beside Woonhak on the couch, his legs tucked up underneath him.
About halfway through the movie, Woonhak felt something heavy against his shoulder. He glanced over to see Riwoo leaning on him, his eyes half-closed.
“Are you falling asleep?” Woonhak whispered.
Riwoo mumbled something incoherent, his breath warm against Woonhak’s neck.
Woonhak’s heart skipped a beat. He shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable without waking Riwoo, and ended up wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
From across the room, Jaehyun raised an eyebrow. “Do you two want us to leave or something?”
“Shut up,” Woonhak hissed, though his voice lacked any real bite.
The others snickered, but Woonhak ignored them, focusing instead on the steady rise and fall of Riwoo’s breathing.
Eventually after the others had gone to bed, Riwoo lingered in the living room with Woonhak.
“Hey,” Riwoo said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Yeah?”
Riwoo hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of the hoodie he was wearing. “You don’t mind, right? Me wearing your stuff?”
Woonhak blinked, surprised by the question. “I told you, I don’t mind.”
“No, I mean…” Riwoo trailed off, his cheeks faintly pink. “You don’t think it’s weird or anything?”
Woonhak’s chest tightened. “Why would I think that?”
“I don’t know.” Riwoo shrugged, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I like it. It makes me feel close to you.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and fragile.
Woonhak swallowed hard, his heart pounding. “I like it too,” he admitted, his voice just as soft. “A lot, actually.”
Riwoo looked up, his eyes meeting Woonhak’s. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, slowly, Riwoo leaned in, resting his forehead against Woonhak’s. “You’re so easy to read,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Woonhak’s breath hitched. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” Riwoo said, his voice warm and gentle. “It’s one of the things I like about you.”
And before Woonhak could respond, Riwoo closed the distance between them, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.
The world seemed to stop, the only sound the faint hum of the heater in the background.
When they finally pulled apart, Woonhak was speechless, his cheeks burning.
Riwoo laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re blushing again.”
“Of course I am,” Woonhak muttered, his voice shaky.
Riwoo leaned back, tugging the hoodie closer around himself. “Good,” he said with a grin. “You’re cute when you blush.”
“Hyung~.” Woonhak whined, covering his face with his hands. Riwoo laughs as he rests his head on Woonhak’s shoulder. “It’s not my fault that you look so cute.”
____
From that day forward, things between them felt different—softer, warmer, more certain.
The other members noticed, of course.
“Finally,” Jaehyun said one morning, shaking his head. “I was starting to think you two would never figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” Riwoo asked innocently, though the smug look on his face betrayed him.
“That you’re basically a couple,” Taesan said, rolling his eyes.
Riwoo glanced at Woonhak, who was trying (and failing) to hide his smile. “Well,” Riwoo said, slipping his hand into Woonhak’s, “I guess they’re not wrong.”
And Woonhak, despite the teasing, couldn’t have been happier.