Chapter Text
1. Through a Late Night Text
Hyunjin lies in bed, phone illuminating his face in the darkness. His heart pounds against his ribs as he types and deletes, types and deletes. Finally, he settles on something simple. He feels his eyes getting wetter by second.
"Hey, Minho hyung. Do you ever think about soulmates?"
The three dots appear. Hyunjin holds his breath.
"Soulmates? Like best friends who just get each other?"
His stomach sinks. That’s not what he meant.
"Yeah," he sends, fingers trembling.
He doesn’t sleep that night, staring at the ceiling, wondering why the words refuse to come out the way he wants them to.
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2. Through Dance
The music pulses through their veins, the choreography raw, intimate, charged. Hyunjin planned this moment—where their bodies move close, where his fingers graze Minho’s wrist, lingering just a second too long. The emotions in his chest burn hotter than the exhaustion in his muscles.
When the music stops, Hyunjin’s breath is ragged. He turns to Minho, eyes searching. “Did you feel that?”
Minho wipes his sweat-damp forehead, giving him a smirk. “Yeah, we were totally in sync today.”
Hyunjin swallows back the words. No, not like that. Did you feel me? Do you see me?
But Minho doesn’t. He never does.
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3. Through a Gift
Hyunjin spends hours making the bracelet, fingers fumbling with the knots. Every thread is a piece of him, woven with silent confessions. Specially It was Minho who asked the bracelet. When he finally hands it to Minho, he does it casually, like it’s nothing.
“Here,” he mutters. “Made this for you.”
Minho raises an eyebrow but takes it, studying it. “You’re such a sentimental guy, Hyunjin.” He slides it onto his wrist without hesitation. “Thanks. I’ll wear it.” Then squeezes his butt and pats.
And that should be enough, right?
But then Minho turns away, moving on like Hyunjin didn’t just pour his heart into something so small. Hyunjin watches the bracelet on His hyung's wrist, a bittersweet ache curling inside him.
He wears it every day. But not for the reason Hyunjin wants.
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4. Through a Joke That Wasn’t a Joke
It’s late. They’re sprawled on the couch, warmth radiating between them. Minho's house is quiet, Jisung is with Felix at Vocal lessons. Just the hum of the fridge and the occasional giggles from Minho who watches cat tiktoks.
“You know,” Hyunjin says, voice light, forced, “if I had to date someone in the group, it’d be you.”
Minho snorts. “Well, of course. I’m the most dateable.”
Hyunjin grins, but there’s something hollow behind it. “So… would you ever date me?”
Minho barely glances at him, still focused on his phone. “You’re my best friend, Hyune!”
Hyunjin’s stomach twists. He forces out a laugh, slumping back against the couch. “Yeah. Right.” Hyunjin earns a kiss on shoulder.
He shouldn’t have asked.
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5. Through Drunken Honesty
A few drinks in, and Hyunjin feels reckless. The words sit heavy on his tongue, buzzing in his veins.
They’re alone in the living room. Minho is relaxed, head tilted against the couch, eyes half-lidded with sleepiness. He looks unfairly beautiful like this, and Hyunjin’s heart aches. You can blame him. He is just full of love for Minho.
“I’m in love with you,” Hyunjin says.
The words land between them, fragile and raw. For a second, he thinks Minho heard them right. But then—
“You’re drunk,” His hyung says, chuckling. “You say dumb things when you drink.”
Hyunjin lets out a breathy laugh, masking the way his chest cracks open. He leans back, staring at the ceiling.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Dumb things.”
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+1. The One Time Minho Realized
It’s late. Minho is in his room, fingers idly playing with the bracelet on his wrist. The fabric is frayed at the edges, worn from time. It has been more than 3years anyway.
Hyunjin’s voice echoes in his head.
"Do you ever think about soulmates?"
"Did you feel that?"
"I made this for you."
"Would you ever date me?"
"I’m in love with you."
His fingers freeze.
A strange weight settles in his chest, like something clicking into place too late. His mind replays every moment, every confession disguised as something else. Hyunjin had been telling him this whole time. And Minho—he had been brushing it off, laughing, ignoring the way Hyunjin looked at him.
Why?
Because he was scared? Because he never thought—never let himself think—that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same?
His heart pounds, his throat tightening.
Memories come rushing in—Hyunjin’s lingering stares, the way his touches always felt like they meant something more, the way his absence always left an emptiness Minho never wanted to name.
Hyunjin had spent so long trying to tell him. And Minho had spent just as long running from the truth. He had just running away from Hyunjin.
He breathes in sharply, heart racing.
Because now, there’s no running.
Now, he knows.
Now, he has to do something about it.
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