Archive of Our Own ^beta

I

Fourth barely glances at his phone as he walks through the hallways of GMMTV, feet dragging slightly with exhaustion. He had just finished a full day of schedules—rehearsals, interviews, and content shoots. The only thing on his mind had been going home, collapsing onto his bed, and maybe, if Gemini wasn’t busy, calling him just to hear his voice before sleeping.

But the message from his manager had been clear: Come to the office. It’s important.

Now, as he pushes open the glass door of the small meeting room, he notices immediately that only his manager is there. The room feels unnervingly quiet, the fluorescent lights above casting a clinical glow. He hesitates in the doorway before stepping in.

“Where’s Gemini?” Fourth asks, a frown tugging at his lips. If it was about them, shouldn’t he be here too?

His manager exhales, folding his hands on the desk. “This is about the company trip next week.”

Fourth takes a seat, the uneasy feeling growing in his chest. “Okay…?”

“We need you to help create some moments during the trip.”

Fourth tilts his head. “That’s normal. We always post content from trips.”

His manager clears his throat. “Not with Gemini.”

The air in the room changes. Fourth blinks, not understanding at first. “What?”

“The fans have been showing interest in other pairings,” his manager explains. “The ghostships are gaining traction. Satang and Mark are popular right now. We want you to play into it more during the trip. Create some interactions. Give the fans something to talk about.”

Fourth’s stomach twists uncomfortably. “But… why? Gemini is enough for me. For them.”

His manager’s lips press into a thin line. “We need to expand. Keep engagement high. You and Gemini are strong, but it’s the nature of the industry. We have to adapt. You understand, right?”

Fourth shakes his head slowly. “I don’t get it. Gemini and I have been working hard to build what we have with the fans. Why do we have to mess with that?”

His manager sighs, clearly expecting this reaction. “Look, I’m not saying to abandon your partnership. Just… interact naturally with others. Be open to it. The fans want variety.”

Fourth clenches his jaw. Everything inside him screams no. Gemini is enough. The dynamic they have is theirs. Forced ghostships are just illusions, distractions—nothing real. So why does he have to play along?

“Fourth.” His manager’s voice is softer now. “I know you don’t like it. But this is work.”

His fingers tighten into fists under the table. He knows. But that doesn’t make it feel any less like a betrayal. To Gemini.

“…Fine,” he mutters, though the word tastes bitter on his tongue.

His manager nods in approval. “Good. Just keep an open mind.”

Unbeknownst to both of them, just outside the cracked-open door, someone stands frozen in place.

A figure who shouldn’t be there.

Who shouldn’t have heard any of that.

But did.

And now, Gemini’s fingers tremble where they’re curled around the strap of his bag, his heart hammering painfully against his ribs.

II

Gemini barely registers his own footsteps as he rushes down the hall, his heartbeat loud in his ears. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor snaps him out of his thoughts, and without hesitation, he pushes open the heavy stairwell door, slipping inside before anyone can see him.

The air is thick with dust, the scent of old concrete lingering—this place is barely used. Everyone takes the elevator. No one would think to come here. It’s exactly what he needs.

With a sigh, he lets his body sink onto the cold steps, his hands resting between his knees. He stares ahead, his mind replaying the conversation he just overheard.

A company trip.

Ghostships.

He tilts his head back, knocking it lightly against the wall. It was supposed to be a break, a moment to breathe between the chaos of schedules. He thought he could finally relax, maybe just exist in the background instead of performing all the time. But now…

Fourth has his own group. He always has. They naturally fall into their separate circles—Fourth with his, Gemini with his. It’s normal. It shouldn’t feel any different just because he understands the reason now. A company move, a calculated strategy to boost engagement. Just another industry tactic.

Then why does it sit so uncomfortably in his chest?

He rubs a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. Maybe it’s because he knows Fourth. Knows how he gets along with everyone, how effortless it is for him to fit anywhere. Maybe it’s because he’s suddenly realizing that Fourth will be spending more time with them, laughing with them, forming “moments” for the fans. And Gemini—Gemini will just be another person watching from the sidelines.

A sharp buzz from his phone startles him.

Fourth.

His stomach twists. He stares at the screen, his thumb hovering over the answer button. It rings again, insistently, and for a split second, he considers not answering. Maybe he needs a moment. Maybe he shouldn’t let his emotions get the best of him.

But the ringing stops before he can decide. Silence fills the stairwell once more.

Gemini swallows. Then, as if on cue, his phone buzzes again. This time, a message pops up.

“Where are you? Done with your schedule?”

He exhales, staring at the words longer than necessary.

He knows Fourth doesn’t know what he’s heard.

Knows that if he answers, he’ll have to pretend everything is fine.

The phone buzzes again.

“Come eat with me?”

Gemini closes his eyes, gripping his phone tighter.

He should answer. He should pretend like nothing happened.

Instead, he lets the message sit unread, slipping his phone back into his pocket as he leans his head against the wall, staring at nothing.

Maybe, just this once, he needs a moment to himself.

Cause the worst part is that Gemini understood why the management was doing this.

He wasn’t good at being a good partner. That’s what people told him, anyway.

He wasn’t loud, he wasn’t overly affectionate in public, and he sure as hell wasn’t the type to initiate things easily. He had always been in his own world, too much in his head, overthinking every little thing when it came to Fourth. Not because he didn’t want to be close to him—God, he did. More than anyone could ever know.

But that was the problem.

He wanted to be bold, not because of fan service, not because of carefully curated “moments,” but simply because it was Fourth .

And yet—he wasn’t.

Because being shy was a habit he couldn’t shake, especially around him . Because every glance, every touch, every fleeting second alone made his pulse pick up in a way that left him feeling too vulnerable. He overanalyzed everything, hesitated when he wanted to act, stayed quiet when he wanted to speak.

And maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t enough.

Not for the company, who was now pushing new narratives. Not for the fans, who wanted something constant, something sure.

III

Gemini had been holed up in his apartment, finishing his university project, eyes burning from hours of staring at the screen. It was already past midnight when his phone buzzed.

Phuwin: Chilling at the usual bar. Come join.

Gemini blinked at the message, rubbing his temples. He started typing out an excuse— can’t, I need sleep —when another text came in.

Phuwin: No Fourth.

That made him pause.

No Fourth.

His shoulders relaxed before he could even think about it. He exhaled, leaning back in his chair. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he could actually unwind without the weight of his own feelings suffocating him.

It’s not like he doesn’t want Fourth around. Not really.

If anything, that’s the problem.

It’s just Gemini—what does he expect his poor heart to do? Stay still? Stay quiet? As if it doesn’t stumble every time Fourth is near, as if it doesn’t trip over itself at the sound of his laugh.

So he went.

And of course, it was a trick.

Because the second he stepped inside, he saw him.

Fourth.

Sitting there like he belonged, like he hadn’t just been used as bait to get Gemini to show up. His eyes flickered up almost instantly, locking onto him like he had been waiting.

And Gemini?

Gemini should’ve turned around. Should’ve left before he could get roped into whatever Phuwin had planned.

But he didn’t.

Because it was Fourth . And despite everything—despite the way he tried to convince himself it didn’t matter—he stayed.

Gemini sat down.

The others were already wasted—some half-slumped over the table, others laughing too loud, and a few had made their way to the dance floor, lost in the music. The air was thick with alcohol, bass vibrating through the walls, but Gemini barely noticed.

His focus was on the empty seat.

The only one left.

Right in front of Fourth.

For a second, he considered just walking away—maybe heading toward the bar, pretending he needed a drink, or even joining the chaos on the dance floor just to avoid this.

But he was exhausted. He’d been running on fumes for weeks, balancing assignments, deadlines, and the upcoming company trip. He didn’t have the energy to dance. He barely had the energy to be here at all.

So he sat.

Tension coiled tight between them the second he did.

Fourth didn’t hesitate. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Gemini exhaled, glancing away. “I’ve been busy.”

It wasn’t a lie.

But it wasn’t the truth either.

Fourth leaned forward, fingers tapping idly against the rim of his glass. “You barely talk to me anymore.”

“I barely talk to anyone.”

Fourth huffed a quiet, humorless laugh. “So, I am anyone now?”

Gemini didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for a nearby bottle, pouring himself a drink he had no intention of finishing. Anything to keep his hands busy. Anything to stop Fourth from looking at him like that—like he actually cared, like he actually noticed .

“Gem,” Fourth called, softer this time. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t want to do this. Not here. Not now.

So he changed the subject. “How’s the variety series filming?” His voice came out steadier than he expected, casual, like this was just a normal conversation.

Fourth’s gaze darkened, something sharp flickering across his face. “Don’t do that.”

Gemini swallowed. “Do what?”

“Pretending.” Fourth tilted his head, eyes locking onto his. “Like we didn’t go from talking every day to... whatever the hell this is.”

Gemini forced a small smile. “We’re both busy. You’re filming, I’m keeping up with school. It happens.”

Fourth’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t buying it. “Bullshit.”

The word came low, firm, cutting through the air between them.

Gemini froze, grip tightening around his glass.

Fourth leaned in just slightly, voice dipping. “Trust me, Gem. What’s wrong?”

The words sent a jolt through him. Not because he didn’t want to—but because he couldn’t . Not when his own trust toward himself was unraveling at the seams.

And somehow, the thought slipped past his lips before he could stop it.

“I trust you, Fot. I do.”

Fourth’s breath hitched, barely audible over the pounding bass of the club.

“But trusting you doesn’t change anything,” Gemini continued, voice quieter now, almost lost in the noise. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. “People still believe what they want to believe.”

Fourth’s expression darkened.

Gemini swallowed, forcing himself to meet his gaze. “And maybe… maybe that’s just how it is.”

Fourth stepped closer. “That’s not—”

I still have to prove I even belong in this world.

As if just realized what he just said, Gemini’s own pulse was pounding in his ears. He needed to leave. Now.

Pushing back his chair, he stood up abruptly. “I’m going home.”

Fourth stood too.

Gemini turned toward the exit. Fourth moved first, stepping into his path.

He inhaled sharply, shifting to the left. Fourth mirrored him.

Gemini exhaled through his nose, stepping the other way. Again, Fourth blocked him, gaze unwavering.

“Move.”

Fourth didn’t.

Didn’t budge, didn’t blink, just stood there like he had all the time in the world to wait Gemini out.

Gemini clenched his jaw. “Fourth.”

Nothing.

The frustration clawed up his throat, sharp and suffocating. “What do you want from me?”

Fourth’s expression didn’t waver, but something about his posture shifted—less defensive, more intent. More like he was searching for something in Gemini’s face.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “But I don’t want you to leave like this.”

Gemini’s heart ached at the honesty.

But he had to leave. Because staying would mean letting himself believe—just for a second—that he still mattered to Fourth the way he used to.

And that? That was dangerous.

So he did the only thing he could.

He sighed, letting his shoulders drop, feigning exhaustion. “I really need to sleep.”

He needed the extra energy. Not for tomorrow, not for the trip—but for himself. For carrying the weight of it, pretending like none of this mattered.

Because Fourth wouldn’t be there.

Fourth studied him.

Gemini had always been easy to read—except when he didn’t want to be.

But Fourth knew this much: Gemini always needed to recharge. He needed time, space, quiet moments to rebuild himself into the version everyone expected—the hyper, smiling Gemini that lit up every room he walked into.

So when Gemini said it, when he brushed past with a weary sigh, Fourth knew what he really meant.

And something in Fourth softened.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Fourth exhaled, stepping aside.

Gemini didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t look back.

Even when every part of him wanted to.

IV

The morning sun cast a golden hue over the bustling gathering area, where the company’s artists and staff assembled for the highly anticipated trip. Excitement buzzed in the air as conversations overlapped, suitcases were shuffled around, and cameras—both from media personnel and eager fans—captured every moment.

Gemini arrived at the scene, slipping naturally into his usual persona—the friendly, slightly chaotic artist everyone knew. He greeted staff, playfully nudged fellow actors, and entertained fans with his usual antics.

But he was aware. Aware of how today wasn’t just about fun. It was a spectacle—a stage for curated moments, scripted interactions, and engineered chemistry. It wasn’t new, but after overhearing the conversation in the manager’s office, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"It’s me. Do I need to start acting weirder? My—”

“Bro! You actually woke up on time?” Pond teased as he passed by, interrupting Gemini’s inner monologue.

“Excuse me?! I am a responsible adult.”

Pond snorted. “Sure. That’s why you were almost late for our flight last time.”

“That was one time! And it wasn’t my fault!” Gemini shot back, already earning laughs from a few people around them.

He greeted everyone—smiling, joking, playfully nudging friends along the way. No one would’ve guessed that something weighed on his mind. That was the goal.

Then he spotted a familiar figure.

Tay.

Relief flooded him instantly.

Tay, one of the company’s senior actors, had always been something of a father figure to him. A safe space in an industry that often felt overwhelming. Without hesitation, Gemini weaved through the crowd and made his way to him.

“P’Tay!”

Tay turned, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Gem! Ready to survive this trip?”

“Barely.” Gemini sighed dramatically. “I might need you to adopt me for the next few days.”

Tay chuckled. “As long as you don’t cause trouble.”

They fell into easy conversation, Tay’s presence grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

But then—

A loud cheer erupted from the crowd.

Gemini turned toward the commotion.

Fans were gathered near one of the arriving vans, their voices rising in excitement, cameras flashing. And then—he saw them.

Fourth.

Laughing, joking around with Satang, Mark, and a few others as they exited the vehicle.

It was nothing new. They were all close, after all. But something about the way Fourth casually draped an arm over Mark’s shoulder, the way they leaned into each other, sharing an easy laugh, made something tighten in Gemini’s chest.

He quickly looked away.

It’s fine. It’s just the usual.

He turned his attention back to Tay, forcing a grin as he continued their conversation.

And just like that, he pretended it didn’t affect him.

___________________________________

Meanwhile, Fourth’s eyes were already searching.

It took him a moment to find Gemini, standing a few steps away, still talking to Tay. He wasn’t looking in Fourth’s direction—not even once.

Something about that felt off.

Still, when Fourth, Mark, and Satang finally approached, they greeted Gemini as usual, their expressions bright, voices warm, careful not to be too obvious. There were too many fans around, too many cameras recording.

"Who’s sitting with who?" Fourth asked, tone casual, though his eyes flicked briefly toward Gemini.

Before Gemini could say anything, Mark cut in. "Oh, I don’t have a seat partner yet."

Gemini stilled for half a second.

Then, without missing a beat, he shrugged, still avoiding Fourth’s gaze. "You sit with Fourth, then."

For a split second, Fourth’s expression faltered.

"Gem," Satang interjected lightly, like he could feel the shift in the air, "you sure? You don’t mind?"

Gemini forced a smile. "Yeah, I don’t mind. You both—Mark and Fourth—you’ll make the trip more exciting."

His tone was light, teasing even, like he was just making an offhand remark. But the way he said it, the way he carefully kept his eyes away from Fourth, made something in the air shift.

For a moment, Fourth just stared at him.

Then, without a word, he turned to Mark and nodded. "Guess it’s you and me, then."

Mark grinned, oblivious to the underlying tension. "Hell yeah, it’ll be fun."

Gemini just hummed in response before turning back to Tay, acting like the conversation was already over. Like it didn’t matter.

Like it didn’t affect him at all.

But as he heard Fourth move away, settling into a seat next to Mark, Gemini exhaled quietly, forcing himself to shake it off.

It was easier this way. It had to be.

___________________________________

The bus was packed with energy, filled with overlapping voices, laughter, and the occasional burst of a song as someone randomly started singing.

No one was sleeping—excitement buzzed through the air as people chatted, laughed, and filled the space with playful banter.

Singing started first. Someone pulled out a speaker, and before long, the entire bus was filled with voices belting out lyrics, some intentionally off-key just to be dramatic.

Then came the games.

Truth or Dare.

A classic, chaotic choice.

Gemini played along, answering a few harmless questions and laughing at some of the ridiculous dares others had to do.

Then, it was Fourth’s turn.

"Fourth! Truth or dare?"

Fourth smirked, leaning back in his seat. "Truth."

A collective groan filled the bus.

"Lame!" Pond complained. "Fine, I'll ask—"

"No," Fourth cut in, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Gemini should ask."

Silence.

Gemini blinked. "Huh?"

"You ask," Fourth repeated, casual yet firm. "I’ll answer."

The bus went wild.

"OOOH!"

The reaction was instant—laughter, teasing whistles, someone smacking the back of a seat like this was the most exciting thing to happen all night.

Gemini exhaled slowly, keeping his expression neutral. Be normal. Be the usual Gemini. The one who smiled at everything. The one who never let anything slip.

Fine. Two could play this game.

He leaned back slightly, arms crossed, letting his gaze settle on Fourth with a small, easy smirk. “Me? Alright, Fourth…”

Fourth’s expression didn’t change, but Gemini saw it—the twitch of his fingers against his knee, the way his jaw tightened just slightly.

Gemini pretended to think, dragging out the moment before finally asking,

"Sun or moon?"

The guys erupted in laughter.

"What kind of question is that?"

"Bro, just say which one looks cooler!"

"Moon is literally just a rock, man."

Gemini laughed along, like it was just some random question, like it didn’t mean anything.

But he knew Fourth. And Fourth knew him.

Fourth, who always called him his sun.

Fourth, who had once said the sun was something you couldn’t look at for too long but still felt its warmth everywhere.

And maybe now, Gemini was starting to understand the moon. Because people always loved the moon. It was easier to look at, easier to admire. Soft, quiet, steady. Something easier to love.

Unlike the sun—blinding, overwhelming, burning too hot.

There was a beat of silence between them, one no one else noticed.

Then Fourth answered, voice steady.

"Sun."

No hesitation. No second-guessing.

Like it was never a question to begin with.

Gemini's breath caught. His fingers curled slightly against his knee.

Fourth turned fully toward him, gaze steady, waiting.

For him to look up.

For him to meet his eyes.

Because Fourth couldn't say what he really wanted to—not here, not with their managers sitting just a few seats away, not when every word could be twisted into something it wasn’t.

But if Gemini just looked at him— really looked —he’d see it.

You’re enough.

But Gemini kept his eyes forward, jaw tight, fingers tapping against his knee like he was brushing it off.

Fourth clenched his teeth, exhaling through his nose.

The others moved on, the excitement shifting, but that moment? It sat between them. Heavy. Lingering.

And for the first time in a long time, Fourth realized—Gemini wasn’t looking.

Or maybe… he didn’t want to.

V

The resort was beautiful—too beautiful for Gemini’s current state of mind. Lush greenery framed the walkways, the scent of the ocean carried through the breeze, and the sky stretched endlessly, as if mocking him with its vastness.

He strolled through the resort grounds, weaving through the groups of artists and staff, all excitedly chattering about the trip ahead.

He didn’t linger with them. His feet carried him to the nearest empty room he could find. The crisp white sheets of the twin beds were untouched, and without a second thought, he dropped his bag onto the nearest one, sighing as he sank onto the mattress. The cool air from the AC hummed softly in the background.

Just for a bit, he told himself, just a short rest before the hike.

___________________________________

Fourth picked at his food absentmindedly, barely registering the laughter around him. The dining hall was packed with groups sitting at round tables, engaged in conversation, but his mind was elsewhere. The company wanted him to participate in the ghostship moments today. He should be thinking about that, about the performance he needed to put on, but all he could think about was him .

His gaze had flickered across the room more times than he could count, but the one person he was unconsciously searching for never appeared.

Gemini.

He knew Gemini had arrived at the resort—he had seen him earlier, greeting everyone like he always did. So why wasn’t he here?

He glanced at his watch. Thirty minutes until they had to gather for the hike. He let out a quiet sigh, excusing himself from the table. His feet moved before he could think, carrying him toward the direction of the rooms.

He found Gemini’s door slightly ajar.

For a moment, he hesitated.

Should he knock?

Instead, his hand moved to the doorknob, pushing it open carefully.

Inside, the curtains were drawn, the room cast in a dim, sleepy glow. The first thing he saw was him —curled up in the middle of the bed, one arm tucked under his pillow, his breathing slow and even.

A soft exhale left Fourth’s lips.

He walked toward the bed, standing beside it for a moment, just watching. His usual vibrant, loud Gemini looked so different like this—drained, exhausted, completely unaware of the weight on his shoulders.

Slowly, he reached out, fingers brushing against the strands of Gemini’s soft hair.

"Gem..."

Gemini stirred slightly, brows knitting together as he shifted under Fourth’s touch. His eyes fluttered open, sluggish and unfocused before they landed on Fourth’s face.

“…Is it time already?” His voice was heavy with sleep, raspy and low.

Fourth shook his head, crouching slightly beside the bed. “Not yet. We still have time.”

Gemini exhaled through his nose, pushing himself up onto one elbow. Fourth noticed the way his shoulders slumped, how tired he looked even now.

“You okay?” Fourth asked, voice quieter this time.

Gemini blinked at him, taking in the concern on his face before giving a small, sleepy smile. “Just tired,” he mumbled, rubbing his face with one hand. “I barely slept this week ‘cause of assignments.”

Fourth hummed in understanding. “Then why’d you come last night?”

Gemini tilted his head slightly, confused.

“The get-together,” Fourth clarified. “You didn’t have to.”

Gemini hesitated for a second before shrugging, playing with the hem of the blanket. “Felt like going.”

Fourth didn’t push. Instead, he let himself relax, sitting on the edge of the bed. The silence stretched between them, comfortable, familiar.

Gemini let his head drop against the pillow again, watching Fourth through half-lidded eyes. His heart felt… full. Like something inside of him settled in place just by having Fourth here.

And yet—he knew this moment was fleeting. He knew what awaited them beyond this room.

Fourth, unknowingly, was feeling the same.

VI

The air outside was slightly cool, carrying the scent of nature as Fourth and Gemini walked side by side toward the gathering area. The afternoon sun painted everything in golden hues, but the weight in Fourth’s chest had nothing to do with the heat.

He had felt it since the moment he left Gemini’s room—the quiet between them, the way they both seemed to tiptoe around something unspoken. But now, the moment of peace was over. The company trip had truly begun.

As soon as they arrived, Fourth’s manager caught his eye, giving him a subtle yet firm signal.

Right. The plan.

Fourth felt his stomach twist, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he turned to Gemini with a casual grin before reaching out, fingers wrapping around Gemini’s wrist. “Come on,” he said, tugging him forward.

Gemini blinked, surprised. “Huh? Where—”

“Mark and Satang.” Fourth didn’t explain further, weaving through the small crowd of artists until they reached the other two.

Mark and Satang were already in the middle of their usual playful banter, Mark laughing at something Satang said, both looking up when Fourth and Gemini approached.

“Bro, you’re late,” Satang teased. “Already busy with your—” He stopped, eyes flickering to Gemini before smirking. “Never mind.”

Fourth ignored the implication, releasing Gemini’s wrist and folding his arms. “What’s the plan?”

“We get to choose our team members,” Mark said, motioning toward the other gathered artists. “Hiking race. Two teams, two routes. Winner gets bragging rights and, I think, some company-sponsored dinner.”

Excitement rippled through the group, some already strategizing, others groaning at the thought of hiking on the first day of the trip.

Fourth hummed in acknowledgment, barely paying attention. His focus was elsewhere.

Gemini.

Standing just beside him, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Their gazes met for the briefest second, and Fourth didn’t hesitate—he tilted his head just slightly, the smallest movement, but enough.

You’re with me.

Gemini didn’t react right away, but Fourth saw the way his fingers twitched at his sides before he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Silent agreement.

Decision made.

Fourth exhaled through his nose, satisfied. He had already made up his mind—he would pick Gemini, even if it was obvious. Even if his manager scolded him for it later. At least this way, they could be together.

The selection started. Names were called one by one, the teams slowly forming. Fourth waited, hands tucked into his pockets, watching as people made their choices.

It would be too obvious if he called Gemini too soon. Too deliberate.

So he waited.

Let the others pick first.

But then—

“Fluke, your turn,” someone announced.

Fluke, the company’s newest junior. Some whispered about his strong connections, how he got opportunities faster than most. Fourth didn’t care about that. But he had to admit—Fluke had that kind of face. The type that drew attention. And maybe—loved attention just as much.

Fluke turned, scanning the remaining members, dragging out the moment, as if he enjoyed making people wait.

And then, unexpectedly—

“I’ll take phi Gemini.”

The air shifted.

Fourth blinked once. Then twice. His fingers curled slightly against his knee, mind lagging for just a second as he processed what he just heard.

Stealing a glance, he saw Gemini still in his seat, shoulders loose, eyes momentarily wide before his mouth rounded into a small ‘O’—an indication he did not expect to be chosen by that person. A pause.

Then, as if catching himself, he exhaled and let out a quiet hum, lips pressing into that half-smile of his. The kind that was polite, distant.

Like it was nothing.

But it wasn’t.

At least—not for Fourth.

He should’ve seen it coming. Should’ve known Gemini was the kind of person people gravitated toward.

He was quiet, in his own world, barely talking—but steady. Dependable. The kind of presence that made people feel grounded without them even realizing it.

Of course someone would pick him.

And now, Gemini was already on his feet, moving toward Fluke, just like that — like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Like it didn’t matter at all.

Like Fourth hadn’t been waiting for him.

___________________________________

The hike began, and the two teams split off into different routes.

Fourth’s team took the steeper trail—a challenge, but nothing they couldn’t handle. Most of them, himself included, were no strangers to intense workouts, the gym a second home rather than an obligation. What was a bit of climbing compared to their usual training?

The air buzzed with adrenaline and friendly competition, their voices echoing through the trees. Laughter mixed with the occasional groan of exertion, but the goal ahead kept them moving. Every step up rewarded them with a wider view of the valley below, the horizon stretching endlessly as the sky began to shift into hues of soft orange and pink.

“Almost there!” Satang called out, grinning as he clapped a hand on Fourth’s back.

Fourth only smirked, adjusting the strap of his bag. “Obviously.”

They powered through the final stretch, muscles burning but spirits high, and as soon as they reached the peak, exhaustion melted into exhilaration.

“We did it!” Mark threw his arms up, voice triumphant.

Satang didn’t even hesitate—he grabbed Fourth in a rough hug, nearly knocking him off balance. Before Fourth could react, the rest of the team piled in, their collective laughter echoing against the open sky.

Someone's phone camera flashed. Then another.

Staff. Fans. Maybe even their own members capturing the moment. Fourth barely paid attention to it. He smiled, went along with the group energy, letting the high of victory linger.

But his eyes flickered toward the lower path.

Where was Gemini’s team?

He scanned the distance, searching for any sign of movement. They had taken the easier route—not easy, but less intense than this one. They should be here soon.

Any minute now.

Fourth exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as he forced himself to look away. It was fine. They had different paths, different teams.

But still.

He waited.

___________________________________

Meanwhile, Gemini’s team was still making their way up. The hike had taken longer than expected, a few stops along the way slowing them down. Still, the atmosphere was lighthearted, everyone teasing each other for their slow pace.

Gemini wasn’t paying attention.

His chest felt tight. Uncomfortably tight.

He slowed his steps, pressing a hand against his sternum, trying to focus on steadying his breathing.

Not now.

He had left his inhaler in his bag, thinking he wouldn’t need it. He hadn’t had an episode in a long time—but the altitude, the exhaustion, and the strain on his body were catching up.

His fingers curled into fists. He didn’t want to alarm anyone, didn’t want to make it a big deal. He just needed to get through this.

The summit wasn’t far. He could make it.

The path ahead blurred slightly as Gemini pressed forward, jaw clenched. His breathing was shallow now, uneven, but he refused to draw attention to himself.

The others were still joking around, unaware, energy dipping but still holding up. He exhaled through his nose, trying to focus on something else—anything else—but the creeping tightness in his lungs was making it harder to ignore.

They should be close. They should be almost there.

So why did everything look the same?

Gemini’s frown deepened as he glanced around. The trees. The rocks. Even the small clearing they just passed—it all felt eerily familiar.

His stomach twisted.

“We’ve been here before,” he murmured, voice too quiet to be heard over the chatter.

One of the staff up ahead checked the map, brow furrowed. “That can’t be right… We followed the route.”

Another few minutes passed. Then thirty.

Then an hour.

Gemini’s grip tightened around his empty water bottle. They were going in circles.

The realization settled in like a weight pressing against his already strained chest. The team was slowing down, exhaustion creeping into their movements, the earlier playful banter fading into uneasy silence.

“Wait… Where’s the marker?” Fluke asked, eyes darting around.

No one had an answer.

Someone cursed under their breath. The heat was making it worse—sweat dampened the back of Gemini’s neck, his shirt clinging uncomfortably to his skin.

His breath hitched again.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to breathe through it. It wasn’t just the hike anymore—it was the dehydration, the misdirection, the creeping panic clawing at his ribs.

Stay calm.

“We need to stop,” one of the older staff finally said, checking the dwindling water supply. “We’ll rest, get our bearings.”

Gemini barely registered it. His vision swam for a second, black dots creeping at the edges.

He curled his fingers into his palm, nails pressing hard against skin.

Just a little longer. Just until they figured things out.

But if they didn’t soon—

No. He wouldn’t think about that.

He just had to hold on.

___________________________________

Hours passed. And damn, Fourth was worried.

He had been pacing near the edge of the peak, arms crossed tightly, eyes fixed on the distant trails below. His teammates had tried to distract him, but he wasn’t listening—not when the staff and managers were huddled together, tension clear in their hushed voices as they tried to figure out the whereabouts of the missing team.

A professional hiker had already gone down. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Fourth exhaled sharply, jaw set.

“I’m going,” he announced.

Satang looked up. “Fot, they already sent someone—”

“I don’t care.”

He was already moving before anyone could stop him. His legs carried him down the steep path, the urgency in his chest growing with every step. He didn’t think about the sweat dripping down his temple or the branches scraping his arms. All he could focus on was getting to them.

Getting to Gemini.

By the time he spotted the group, relief warred with frustration. They were exhausted, sitting on rocks and leaning against trees, but—

Then his eyes landed on Gemini.

Shit.

He was off to the side, body slightly hunched forward, his hand pressed against his sternum. His skin was too pale, his breaths too short. Fourth’s stomach dropped.

Ignoring the startled looks from the others, he closed the distance, dropping to his knees in front of him.

“Gem.” Fourth’s voice was low, urgent. “Look at me.”

Gemini barely lifted his head. His eyes were hazy, unfocused. Too damn tired.

Fourth cursed under his breath, already reaching into his pocket. “Here,” he muttered, pulling out the inhaler he grabbed before leaving. “Take it.”

Gemini blinked sluggishly, barely processing the object in front of him. His breaths were still too shallow, too uneven. His fingers twitched, but he made no move to take it.

Fourth’s stomach twisted. He didn’t have time for this.

“Open your mouth, Gem,” he said, low and firm.

Gemini’s lips parted slightly, as if to say something, but before he could, Fourth moved.

Gently, yet without hesitation, he lifted the inhaler to Gemini’s lips, pressing down on the canister. The sharp intake of medication-filled air made Gemini flinch, his lashes fluttering as he inhaled. Fourth held his gaze the entire time, unwavering.

“Again,” Fourth murmured.

Gemini exhaled shakily, then obeyed when Fourth repeated the motion. This time, his breathing started to even out—still not perfect, but better.

Fourth let out a slow breath of his own, his hand lingering near Gemini’s face before he finally pulled back.

“Idiot,” he muttered, shaking his head as he uncapped his water bottle. “Drink.”

Gemini blinked again, more alert now, his fingers curling weakly around the bottle as he took small sips.

Fourth stayed crouched, gaze never leaving him.

“Why the hell didn’t you ask for help from the others?” his voice was quieter now, rough around the edges.

Gemini looked away. “Didn’t want to… cause trouble.”

Fourth exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair. “Idiot.”

But there was no bite to his words. Just something heavy, something unreadable in his eyes as he waited—waited for Gemini to meet his gaze.

And when Gemini finally did, there it was. The silent message.

You don’t have to push through alone.

Gemini swallowed, looking away again. Fourth let out a breath, standing up, stretching his hand out.

“C’mon. Let’s get you out of here.”

VII

Fourth slumped onto the hotel bed, exhaling as he ran a hand through his slightly damp hair. The post-hiking exhaustion was finally settling in, but his mind was too restless to let him sleep just yet.

With a sigh, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand and unlocked it, the bright screen illuminating his face in the dimly lit room. His fingers instinctively swiped up, opening Twitter—a habit he didn’t even realize he had.

The first thing he saw was himself.

Videos. Pictures. Trending hashtags.

#FourthMarkSatang was all over his timeline, filled with clips of them goofing off on the hike. In one, Mark had his arm slung around Fourth’s shoulders, pulling him close while Satang made a joke that had them both laughing. The caption read:

"The chemistry between these three is insane. My trio forever!"

Fourth smirked slightly, shaking his head. It was just like their fans to cling onto every little interaction.

He kept scrolling.

A new video caught his attention.

Winny. Fluke. Gemini.

The three of them walking together during the hike, laughing at something out of frame. It was a normal video, nothing out of the ordinary—except for one small detail.

Fluke’s hand.

Resting lightly against Gemini’s waist as they navigated a rocky part of the trail.

It could’ve been nothing. Maybe helping him out, steadying him.

Maybe.

But the comments thought otherwise.
"No one talk to me, I'm investing in this ship now"
"HELLOOO why is nong’s hand there?? 👀👀 "
"Maybe I’m delusional but… THEY LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER??"

Fourth’s jaw tightened.

He flicked his thumb against the screen, scrolling down quickly, trying to shake off the odd feeling creeping into his chest. But it was everywhere.

Ghost ship edits. Side-by-side pictures of Gemini and Fluke. Fans piecing together moments that shouldn’t have meant anything but suddenly felt like they did.

His grip on the phone tightened.

Why did it feel like he was losing something?

He shut his eyes for a second, inhaling deeply .

Damn it.

He missed Gemini.

Maybe not in a dramatic way. Not in a big way as well. Yet, it’s in a way that made him push himself up from his bed, slip his phone into his pocket, and walk out of his room without thinking twice.

The hallways were quiet. He walked slow, almost feeling like a robber as he reached Gemini’s door.

The knob turned easily. He stepped inside.

The room was dark, but he could make out Gemini’s figure curled up on the bed, hugging his pillow.

Fourth moved forward and touched his shoulder gently.

“Gem…”

His voice was lower, quieter—the deep voice he only used when he was trying to get Gemini’s attention.

Gemini stirred , eyes fluttering open, hazy with sleep.

His gaze landed on Fourth. His brow furrowed, but he didn’t look surprised.

Just tired. Familiar.

Then— without a word—shifted, making space.

Fourth slipped onto the bed beside him, lying on his side. It was natural. Too natural.

Gemini’s voice was soft, muffled by the pillow. “Why can’t you sleep?”

Fourth just shook his head, staring at the ceiling.

The room was quiet, save for the steady rhythm of their breathing. The kind of silence that felt heavy, pressing, but not uncomfortable. Just… there. Surrounding them like a cocoon.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Just warmth.

Just this.

Then—

“Don’t think about it, Fot.”

Fourth turned his head slightly, gaze drifting toward Gemini in the dim light.

Gemini was already watching him.

Eyes soft, half-lidded with sleep, but still sharp—still seeing through him in the way only Gemini could. His hair was a mess, sticking up in places from where it had been pressed against the pillow. He looked so painfully like himself. Just— his Gemini.

And Fourth hated that his chest felt lighter just from being here.

He exhaled. A quiet huff, more amused than anything.

"How do you know what I’m thinking about?"

Gemini blinked, slow. Then, without hesitation—

“I just know.”

And then he was moving, shifting closer, arms sliding around Fourth and pulling him in, pressing his face into his chest.

“It’s okay, Fot.” Gemini murmured, voice warm against his skin. A heartbeat. A breath. “We’re okay. Don’t think about it.”

Fourth didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to.

Because somehow, in the way Gemini’s fingers curled against the fabric of his shirt, in the way his touch was both grounding and knowing —Fourth could feel it.

Gemini knew something.

Maybe not everything. Maybe not exactly what had been looping in his head like a song he couldn’t turn off.

But enough.

Enough that Fourth let himself close his eyes—just for a second.

But then—

“Gem.” His voice was quieter now, lower, the weight of something unspoken settling between them.

Gemini hummed, already half-asleep.

Fourth hesitated, pressing his lips together. Then, softly—

“Take care of yourself.”

That made Gemini’s fingers pause against his back.

“I do.” His voice was drowsy, but his grip on Fourth didn’t loosen.

Fourth scoffed, barely a breath of sound. “No, you don’t.”

Because Gemini had left his inhaler in his bag. Because he had pushed through the hike even when he couldn’t breathe. Because Fourth hadn’t been there, and it could’ve been worse.

Because—

“Gem.” Fourth swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. “What if next time, I’m not there?”

A silence.

And then—Gemini tightened his hold, pressing his forehead against Fourth’s shoulder.

“…Then I guess I should be more careful.” It was lighthearted, almost teasing. But then softer, quieter— “I’ll take care of myself, Fot.”

A beat.

Then— “So you don’t have to worry.”

Fourth let out a slow breath, eyes drifting shut.

“…Good.”

And maybe he should let it go.

Maybe he should just leave it at that.

But the thing about Fourth was—

He would worry. Always.

VIII

The second day of the trip continued with another group activity.

"The Pairing Game !" The staff announced, standing in the middle of the open-air pavilion.

Groans, laughter, and whispers spread through the artists. It was a simple game: random pairs would complete mini-tasks together—things like solving puzzles, running small obstacle courses, or performing cute missions for entertainment.

Fourth leaned back, stretching, playing around, until he heard Gemini’s name.

"Gemini... paired with Fluke !"

Fourth sat up.

Again?

His eyes flickered toward them.

Fluke was beaming. Practically bouncing on his feet as he turned to Gemini. "Phi! Let’s do our best!"

Gemini chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, yeah. No pressure, okay?"

Fourth clicked his tongue, looking away. Great.

“Your name’s next,” Mark nudged him, amused.

Then the staff called, "Fourth and Mark!"

Mark smirked. “Guess it’s me and you, partner. You better keep up.”

Fourth huffed. "I should be saying that to you."

First up, the classic three-legged race.

Pairs lined up at the starting point, their ankles tied together. The course was short, just a straight sprint to the finish line.

Gemini and Fluke stood side by side. Fluke, all excitement and eagerness , clapped his hands. "Phi, let’s set a rhythm! Left, right, left, right—"

Gemini chuckled. "Relax, we’ll figure it out."

Meanwhile, Fourth and Mark crouched down, tightening their ankle straps.

“You’re unusually quiet,” Mark noted, glancing at him.

Fourth shrugged. "Just focused."

And maybe just a little distracted.

"Alright!" The staff raised a flag. "Ready... set... GO!"

The teams launched forward.

Some pairs stumbled immediately, others found their rhythm quickly.

Fourth and Mark? Perfect synchronization.

They flew across the course, sprinting effortlessly. Laughing and enjoying themselves. They are both quite atheletic persons themselves so being paired really makes them an unbeatable pair.

Gemini and Fluke? Not so much.

“Wait—wait—Phi, match my pace!” Fluke yelped as their legs tangled for a moment.

Gemini chuckled, steadying them both before adjusting to Fluke’s rhythm. “Alright, alright, just follow my lead,” he said, his voice light, unbothered by the rocky start.

Meanwhile, Fourth was fully immersed in the competition. His and Mark’s strides were powerful, their focus sharp as they surged ahead.

Still, when he saw Gemini laughing with Fluke , the amusement in his eyes, the way he kept gently guiding the younger boy , Fourth felt something strange coil in his chest. He quickly looked away, shaking his head.

With a final push, Mark and Fourth crossed the finish line first , throwing their arms up victoriously. Their teammates cheered, and Fourth high-fived Mark, grinning. He was about to turn and tease Gemini—only to realize Gemini wasn’t even looking at him.

Instead, Gemini was smiling at Fluke, ruffling his hair playfully.

“We almost had it,” Gemini laughed, breathless but still cheerful. Fluke beamed up at him, eyes filled with admiration. “Next time, we’ll totally win.”

Something in Fourth twitched.

Mark watched the exchange , amusement glinting in his gaze. He leaned over, voice just low enough for Fourth to hear. “You look like you want to shove the kid into the sand.”

Fourth scoffed. “I do not.”

“Uh-huh.”

But Mark wasn’t entirely wrong.

Gemini had smiled at Fourth countless times before , but somehow, seeing him smile at Fluke made something uneasy settle in Fourth’s stomach.

The next task required brainpower.

Each team had to solve a wooden block puzzle as fast as possible.

Fourth was completely immersed in the challenge now. The competitive side of him took over as he and Mark quickly pieced the puzzle together, analyzing the shapes, sliding them into place.

Meanwhile, Gemini sat cross-legged beside Fluke, taking it slow.

"Phi, put that piece here!" Fluke instructed eagerly.

Gemini yawned. "Why are you so serious? It’s just a game."

"Phi!" Fluke pouted. "Come on, focus! We can beat them!"

Gemini chuckled, letting Fluke take charge.

Eventually, Fourth’s team finished first.

Gemini’s team? They placed last.

Fourth turned just in time to see Fluke sigh in frustration, while Gemini—

Smiled.

"Well, at least we finished it," Gemini stretched, unfazed.

Fourth scoffed. Of course, Gemini wouldn’t care about winning.

But Fluke? He looked a little annoyed.

And that? That irritated Fourth.

What’s with this kid?

The final game | Water Balloon Toss

The teams launched forward.

The game was simple: one half of the team would throw water balloons, while the other half had to dodge. The last team standing without getting soaked would be declared the winner.

Fourth stood beside Mark, already gripping a water balloon with a focused intensity. Across from them, Gemini and Fluke were in position, the latter looking way too excited while Gemini rolled his shoulders, preparing himself.

“Alright, get ready—” The MC’s voice boomed through the mic.

“Go!”

The first wave of balloons sailed through the air. Players darted left and right, avoiding the splashes as laughter and shouts rang across the field.

Fourth and Mark worked seamlessly— one throwing, the other dodging —a perfect duo. Mark was fast, but Fourth was faster. He ducked, sidestepped, and in the process, managed to hit at least three people in the first minute.

Gemini was doing well, twisting his body just in time to avoid the incoming balloons. He was light on his feet, nimble, but Fluke? Not so much.

“ Ah! Phi! Help! ” Fluke yelped, barely dodging a balloon from another team. Gemini reached out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him aside just in time.

Fourth saw that.

His grip on the water balloon tightened.

Before he could think too much about it, Mark suddenly slipped on the wet grass.

“ Shit! ” Mark yelped, losing balance.

Without hesitation, Fourth moved to block him from getting hit— his instincts kicking in. He raised his arm, ready to shield his teammate, and in that split second, he blindly hurled the water balloon forward—

And it hit Gemini.

Right in the chest.

The cold splash spread across Gemini’s shirt, his body jerking slightly from the impact. His eyes widened in surprise. The shock. The realization. He hadn’t even been expecting that throw.

Mark, still on the ground, scrambled to recover. “Damn, my bad—”

Acting fast, he hurled a balloon at Fluke to keep things moving, not even realizing what had just happened.

Meanwhile, Fourth was too focused on helping Mark up. He didn’t even realize Gemini had fallen behind.

“ And the winners are… Fourth and Mark’s team! ” The MC announced.

The field erupted into cheers and celebration. Fourth grinned, bumping fists with Mark. He was caught up in the win.Didn’t look back. Didn’t notice.

But Gemini did.

Standing there, shirt damp, eyes fixed on Fourth , Gemini felt something bitter settle in his chest. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was the fact that he had been knocked out of the game so easily. Maybe it was because Fourth hadn’t even noticed.

Or maybe it was because Fluke did.

“ Phi Gemini, are you okay? ” Fluke asked, kneeling beside him, concern in his voice.

Gemini blinked, snapping out of his daze. “Oh. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Fluke reached out, hand brushing through Gemini’s wet hair in a playful ruffle. “You were doing great!

Gemini let out a small chuckle, completely oblivious to the way Fluke’s eyes lingered on him a bit too long.

___________________________________

As the cheers still rang around them, Fourth was basking in the victory. He and Mark had played so well together—it felt good to win.

Then—

“ That was amazing, Fot! ”

Phuwin ran up, eyes shining with excitement. “The way you threw that last shot? So clean! And how you dodged all those balloons? Legendary. ”

Fourth grinned, running a hand through his damp hair. “Of course, what did you expect?”

“ And the way Gemini got completely wiped out— ”

Fourth’s smile faltered.

Wait. What?

Phuwin continued, laughing, “It was so fast! He didn’t even see it coming! One second, he was standing there, and boom— water explosion! ”

Fourth’s head snapped toward where Gemini had been.

His heart dropped.

There, at the edge of the field, Gemini stood off to the side, wringing out his soaked shirt. He wasn’t even looking in Fourth’s direction. Instead, he was talking to Fluke.

Fluke, who was standing way too close.

Fluke, who was still smiling at Gemini.

Fluke, who had just ruffled Gemini’s hair like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Something inside Fourth twisted.

He hadn’t noticed earlier—had been too focused on the game, on winning—but now? Now he was seeing exactly what had happened.

He had hit Gemini. He had knocked Gemini out of the game.

And he hadn’t even checked if he was okay.

Mark nudged him, still grinning. “Let’s go celebrate, man! Maybe they’ll let us pick the next activity.”

Fourth didn’t respond. His gaze was still locked on Gemini and Fluke.

Gemini smiled at something Fluke said.

Fourth clenched his jaw.

For some reason, that smile made him feel worse than losing ever could.

The environment eventually settled, the noise of celebration dimming into the occasional hum of conversation. Fourth let out a slow breath, eyes flickering toward Gemini again.

Instinctively, his leg shifted—just barely—until it found Gemini’s under the table. A quiet touch, a subtle reach.

Gemini tensed.

Fourth hesitated, then nudged him slightly. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice lower, careful. “Didn’t mean to—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Accident.”

Gemini didn’t answer right away. His fingers twitched against his knee, his shoulders rising and falling with a breath Fourth couldn’t read.

Then—he turned away.

Took a step back.

Not much. Not dramatic. But enough.

Enough for Fourth to feel it like a punch to the ribs.

Gemini understood.

He understood what Fourth was doing—what he was trying to do. But he still put space between them.

Fourth’s stomach twisted tighter.

Something was wrong.

The way Gemini was cautious around him. The hesitation in his movements. The small, barely-there shift in his expression when their eyes met.

It wasn’t like before.

It wasn’t them.

IX

The field was still filled with soft chatter as everyone cooled down from the competition, some still laughing over the game’s chaotic moments. The bonfire crackled, sending flickering embers into the night sky. The warm glow of the flames illuminated the circle of artists, laughter blending with the gentle crash of the waves nearby.

Gemini sat comfortably among them, legs stretched out, nursing a drink as he listened to Mark strumming his guitar, the melody soft yet lively.

It was a peaceful scene, the kind of night Gemini usually loved. But tonight, there was an unshakable weight in his chest, a quiet exhaustion that wasn’t just physical.

Gemini dusted off his shirt, sighing softly as the cool night breeze finally started to dry the dampness clinging to his skin.

He needed a break. Just a small walk.

He started moving toward the pathway leading away from the crowd, the rhythmic crashing of waves in the distance calling to him. A moment alone sounded nice.

“Phi Gemini! Where are you going?”

Fluke’s voice cut through the air, and in seconds, he was trotting up beside him, bright-eyed and eager. “I’ll go with you!”

Before Gemini could respond, a hand grabbed his wrist.

A familiar hand.

Fourth.

"He's fine," Fourth said, voice steady. A statement, not a suggestion. His grip was light but firm, as if there was no room for discussion.

Fluke blinked, then let out a light chuckle, tilting his head. Feigning innocence. “Huh? Why not? We were paired earlier, after all.”

Fourth’s jaw tensed. “That’s over. No need to stick to it.”

Gemini swore he could feel the tension sparking between them like an invisible rope being pulled taut. Fourth’s casual posture belied something more possessive, sharp. Fluke, on the other hand, was relaxed— but his eyes? They held something just as pointed.

A silent fight.

Fluke smirked. “Relax, phi Fourth. I just—”

“It’s fine,” Gemini cut in smoothly, voice even, before this could spiral into something more obvious. He looked at Fluke with a small, easy smile. “I’ll go with him.”

Fluke paused.

Gemini didn’t miss the flash of something in his expression—displeasure, maybe—but it was gone in an instant.

“Okay then,” Fluke shrugged, stepping back. His voice remained light, but his eyes flicked toward Fourth with something unreadable.

Fourth didn’t even try to hide his smirk. Grinning. Triumphant.

Fourth grabbed his wrist the moment Fluke turned away, tugging him forward like they’d always done.

Gemini shook his head but let him, matching his steps.

“I don’t know what you’re so smug about,” he muttered.

Fourth only grinned wider.

He won.

___________________________________

The sound of waves filled the quiet space between them, the soft crash against the shore a steady rhythm. The bonfire was still crackling in the background, but they had walked far enough away that it felt like their own little world.

Gemini sighed, stretching his legs in front of him as he sat down, burying his hands into the cool sand. Fourth plopped down beside him, close but not too close.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

The moon cast a soft glow over them, the tide reflecting shimmers of silver. It was peaceful—should’ve been peaceful.

Then, out of nowhere, Gemini shifted.

His fingers hesitated before lightly entangling around Fourth’s wrist. The touch was careful, almost absentminded—until he quickly let go, sitting up straighter.

Fourth noticed immediately.

“What are you doing?” Fourth’s voice was sharp.

Gemini didn’t look at him. “Just—” He cleared his throat. “Nothing.”

Fourth narrowed his eyes. His patience was already running thin. “No, tell me.”

Gemini exhaled slowly, looking at the waves instead.

“There might be cameras,” he finally muttered, his voice quiet. “And if they catch this—” He made a vague motion between them, “—the manager might..”

Silence.

Fourth felt his stomach drop.

“Why the manager?” His voice was low, steady, but the weight behind it pressed into Gemini like a demand.

Gemini shifted, fingers clenching around the fabric of his shorts. “It’s nothing, Fourth.”

Fourth’s patience snapped. He grabbed Gemini’s wrist this time—not harshly, but firm enough to keep him from pulling away again. “No. Tell me.”

Gemini finally looked at him, and for a moment, Fourth thought he saw hesitation—fear, even—flicker in those familiar eyes.

Then, with a quiet exhale, Gemini gave in.

“I heard you.” His voice barely rose above the sound of the waves. “You and the manager. Back at the office.”

Fourth stilled.

Gemini swallowed. “About the ghost ship thing.”

Fourth’s grip loosened, but he didn’t let go. His heart pounded in his chest, not from surprise, but from something worse.

Because if Gemini had heard that conversation… then that meant—

You knew?” Fourth’s voice was rough, strained.

Gemini smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course I knew.”

Everything clicked.

Fourth’s heart slammed against his ribs.

He wasn’t even sure which part pissed him off more—the fact that Gemini had been holding back because of this, or the fact that he’d known all along and still let it happen.

Still let the distance grow.

Still let Fourth believe, even for a second, that maybe—maybe—he didn’t care as much as he used to.

His fingers curled into fists. “Then why—” He cut himself off, jaw tightening. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Gemini’s gaze flickered, something unreadable passing through it. Then he sighed, tilting his head slightly, as if the answer was obvious.

“Because it’s you,” he murmured. “And I would rather hurt alone than ever be the reason you struggle.”

Fourth felt the breath knock out of him all at once.

Because it’s you.

As if that explained everything. As if it justified the ache in Fourth’s chest, the unspoken words, the nights spent wondering if he was losing something he didn’t know how to fight for.

Fourth exhaled sharply, stepping closer, voice barely above a whisper.

“Gem… you don’t get to decide that for me.”

Gemini let out a dry chuckle, shoulders tense. “What was I supposed to do?”

Fourth had no answer.

Because he had no idea what he would’ve done either.

“I didn’t want to make it harder for you,” Gemini continued, voice quieter now. “It’s work. It’s business. And I know how important they are to y-”

He stopped himself.

Fourth was still staring at him.

A sudden wave crashed in the distance, the misty sea breeze brushing past them. The world felt too big, too quiet.

Without a word, he reached into his pocket, fingers fumbling for his phone. Gemini watched as Fourth unlocked the screen with a swift motion, angling the camera toward him.

“What—” Gemini leaned back instinctively. “What are you doing?”

Fourth didn’t answer.

The moonlight barely illuminated Gemini’s face, his slightly damp hair curling at the ends from the ocean breeze. Fourth’s thumb hovered over the capture button.

Click.

The sound of the shutter was sharp against the quiet night.

Gemini frowned. “Fourth.”

Fourth’s expression didn’t waver as he tapped through his phone, pulling up Instagram.

Gemini’s breath hitched. He reached out instantly, fingers wrapping around Fourth’s wrist to stop him.

“Wait—what are you doing?”

Fourth didn’t fight it. Just lifted his gaze, eyes sharp, searching.

“I’m posting it.” His voice was calm, too calm.

Gemini’s grip tightened. “You can’t.”

Fourth let out a humorless laugh. “Why not?”

“You know why,” Gemini snapped, voice tense. “They’ll see it. Everyone. The company—”

He cut himself off, exhaling sharply.

Fourth was staring at him, eyes dark and unreadable, but even in the dim light, Gemini could see it—the hurt, the pain etched in the way his lips pressed together, in the way his chest rose and fell just a little too fast.

And that? That hurt Gemini more than anything else.

He could take the hate train, the accusations, the whispers in the corners of social media. He could withstand being picked apart, misinterpreted, discarded. But seeing Fourth like this—seeing Fourth hurt because of him? That was unbearable.

“Fot,” he murmured, voice breaking slightly.

But Fourth shook his head, shifting closer. “Why do you have to think about this?” His breath was heavy, uneven. “This is about me. Let me handle it. You don’t have to change yourself, gem.”

Gemini’s fingers curled into his palm. “no, I’m not.

Fourth let out a sharp, disbelieving breath, his frustration clear.

“Yes, you’re,” he said, voice shaking. “You’re changing. You’re holding yourself back. You used to—” He swallowed. “You used to be loud, used to let people know that I was yours. Now? You won’t even look at me when they get too close.”

Gemini inhaled deeply, then looked up, eyes searching Fourth’s face.

“Because I just want to give you the best,” he said quietly. “If distancing myself makes things easier for you—if it smooths your journey—then why not?”

Fourth shook his head, chest rising and falling rapidly. His hands balled into fists at his sides.

“And if I say life won’t matter if you’re not there? Will you stay? Just for me? For Fourth? Gem, please.”

Something inside Gemini twisted, deep and painful.

His body moved before his mind could catch up. He reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against Fourth’s damp cheek. His smile was small—sad, but warm.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured, thumb swiping away the tear.

Fourth swallowed hard, but he didn’t pull away.

“I won’t leave you,” Gemini whispered, the words steady despite the weight of them. “I’m your GemGem, you know that, right?”

Fourth nodded, a silent, desperate confirmation.

“Then you should know…” Gemini’s voice softened, unwavering. “A Gemini would never leave his Fot.”

He took a deep breath, gaze locking onto Fourth’s. “Even if I have to act like a stranger to you in front of everyone… as long as we know the truth, then that’s enough.”

Fourth let out a shaky breath, eyes squeezing shut before he leaned into Gemini’s touch, his whole body folding into the warmth of it.

“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “Don’t talk like—like you won’t always be here.”

Gemini’s smile wavered. He looked at Fourth like he wanted to memorize him, like he was trying to etch this moment into his bones.

“Even if one day, it’s not me beside you,” he murmured, voice impossibly gentle, “I’d still come running to you if you needed me.”

Fourth shook his head, jaw tightening. “I don’t want that.” His voice cracked. “I just want you.”

Gemini’s heart ached.

He could promise forever, but forever wasn’t something either of them could control.

So instead, he just cupped Fourth’s face a little tighter, brushed his thumb against the skin beneath his eyes, and whispered,

“I know.”

___________________________________

Waves rolled in, steady and relentless.

Fourth was asleep on his shoulder, breath soft and even. His hair smelled good—like it always did. Gemini closed his eyes for a second, just breathing him in, letting the warmth settle.

He wanted to keep this memory. Because just like everything else—just like them. Here one moment, gone the next.

Gemini exhaled slowly, his phone cool and familiar in his grasp as he lifted it, framing the endless sea before him. The deep blues and soft whites blurred slightly through his vision, but he didn’t blink away the sting.

He pressed the shutter.

A single picture. The ocean stretching far beyond reach. A moment he wanted to keep.

He stared at it for a long time before moving to post.

No tags. No music. No names.

Just words. Just him.

"Even if I'm drowning, I'll still cheer you on from the shore."

No one else would understand.

But that was fine.

Because only they had to.