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The dance studio felt like a battlefield.
After three hours of non-stop practice, the AHOF members were sprawled across the floor like fallen soldiers. Sweat dripped from their faces, their limbs ached, and at this point, no one was sure if they could even stand again.
“I can’t feel my legs,” Daisuke groaned, face-down on the wooden floor, completely motionless.
“Then don’t feel them,” Chihen muttered, lying next to him, staring blankly at the ceiling as if questioning all of his life choices.
“If we debut at this rate, our first stage might also be our last,” Juwon sighed heavily, throwing an arm over his forehead.
Steven, their fearless leader, stood over them, hands on his hips. Unlike everyone else, he looked completely fine. Not a hair out of place.
“A bunch of weaklings,” he muttered.
“Hyung, have mercy,” Woongki gasped from the couch.
Then, Steven clapped his hands, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Alright, break time. Since I’m feeling generous today, I’ll buy everyone milk tea.”
Silence.
“HUH?!”
“FOR REAL?!”
“HYUNG, I LOVE YOU!!”
The previously ‘exhausted’ members suddenly sprang to life.
Daisuke, who had been dead on the floor mere seconds ago, suddenly sat up straight. “What?! Hyung, I want Milkshake. Can i have it, please?”
Chihen, who had looked like a man ready to enter the afterlife, grabbed Steven’s arm. “Hyung, I always knew you were the best leader–”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Steven interrupted, rolling his eyes. “Tell me what you want before you start declaring your love.”
They practically fought to place their orders.
Steven and Jeongwoo both ordered black coffee, claiming they needed the bitterness to survive this group’s nonsense.
Woongki ordered a frappe but demanded it be called a “mature drink” rather than a childish one, which Chihen immediately made fun of.
Ibo and Han went for fruit sodas with popping boba.
Jeyel, Juwon, Chihen, and Daisuke all settled for classic milkshakes.
Fifteen minutes later, Steven returned, holding several plastic cups in a large carrier. The moment he stepped through the door, the group swarmed him like hungry animals.
“Drink up, losers,” Steven announced.
“Ibo, take your fruit soda and get out of my sight,” Steven sighed, shoving the cup into his hands.
Han caught his drink mid-air. “Good service, hyung.”
Woongki clutched his frappe like it was a holy relic.
One by one, the drinks were distributed, and for a few minutes, peace returned.
Or so they thought.
Until Jeyel’s curiosity became his downfall.
His gaze landed on Ibo and Han’s drinks. Unlike everyone else’s, theirs had tiny round balls floating inside.
“What’s that?” Jeyel asked, tilting his head.
Ibo looked up “Popping boba. Never had it before?”
Jeyel shook his head. “No. What does it taste like? Does it really pop?”
That was his first mistake.
Ibo took a slow, deliberate sip from his straw, his eyes never leaving Jeyel’s. Then, with the same smug expression, he stuck out his pink tongue.
Resting there, glistening under the fluorescent lights, were two perfectly round popping bobas.
Ibo grinned. And then, in the lowest, smoothest, most sinful voice possible, he said–
“If you’re curious… wanna try popping them here?”
Silence.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH”
CHAOS.
Jeyel choked on air.
Juwon’s soul left his body.
Chihen’s eyes widened in horror.
Woongki inhaled his frappe too fast and started choking.
Daisuke made a loud, strangled sound and shielded his own eyes.
Jeongwoo physically grabbed Daisuke’s face and turned it away. “Don’t look, child.”
Steven, who had been calmly sipping his black coffee, paused, looked down at it, and muttered, “I should’ve gotten popping boba.”
Meanwhile, Jeyel had gone completely red. “WHAT!!! EXCUSE ME?!”
“Oh?” Ibo chuckled, retracting his tongue. “You’re flustered?”
Jeyel nearly threw his straw at him. “YAH–!”
But before he could even process the public execution of his dignity, Han suddenly leaned closer.
And then, he reached out and gently held Jeyel’s chin.
Jeyel froze.
Han’s fingers were warm, and his grip was just firm enough to make Jeyel forget how to function.
“I have some too,” Han murmured, voice low and smooth, as he swirled the drink in his cup.
Then, without breaking eye contact, he slowly brought his straw to his lips, took a sip, and, without warning, let a single boba rest against the tip of his tongue.
His thumb brushed lightly against Jeyel’s lower lip.
“It’s sweet,” Han said softly. “But it’ll be even sweeter if your mouth is in it.”
Jeyel’s entire soul left his body.
Juwon let out an inhuman screech.
Woongki collapsed onto the couch, wheezing.
Chihen looked at them with bewilderment, his large eyes are much larger today.
Daisuke, still being held hostage by Jeongwoo, tried to peek through his fingers. “I WANNA SEE–”
“NO, YOU DON’T,” Jeongwoo hissed, covering his eyes again.
Steven took another sip of his coffee and sighed heavily. “Yeah, I definitely should’ve gotten popping boba.”
Jeyel, meanwhile, looked one second away from combusting.
“Y-You both of you ARE COMPLETELY INSANE,” he choked out, gripping his milkshake as if it was his only defense in this situation.
Ibo just laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Aw, look at him. He’s blushing.”
Han hummed, tilting his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “It’s cute.”
Jeyel wished the ground would swallow him whole.
And of course Chihen has to instigate it too, “Jeyel hyung, your face is literally as red as Woongki hyung strawberry frappe.”
Juwon wiped a fake tear. “We have lost our brother to these demons.”
Daisuke peeked from between Jeongwoo’s fingers. “At least tell me how it tastes, hyung.”
“DAISUKE!” Jeyel yelled, face still burning. Jeongwoo gasped.
But no one heard him.
Because by then, Steven had stood up, stretched, and announced,
“Alright, break’s over. Time to get back to practice.”
Jeyel wanted to cry.