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It was a quiet day in the NCT WISH dorm, the kind where the weight of schedules finally lifted and the members scattered into their corners, basking in a rare moment of rest. Rain pattered against the balcony windows, casting silver trails across the glass and soaking the Seoul skyline in gray light.
Riku was curled up on the far end of the couch, legs tucked under him, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands in a way he didn’t realize he always did when he was feeling safe. His phone was cradled low in his lap, brightness dimmed, earphones plugged in with only one bud in. The other dangled, unnoticed, as he stared at the Bubble app.
"You guys are doing well, right?"
"Make sure to eat something warm today. It’s raining."
"Don’t catch a cold. Please. I’ll worry."
"💚 👍 🌳 🌟 💎 🍀 🌈"
Riku exhaled through his nose, lips tugging up into the smallest, secretive smile.
It wasn’t weird, he told himself. Lots of people followed Daeyoung’s Bubble. Daeyoung was comforting. Thoughtful. He always wrote with care, sent too many dog pictures, and ended his messages with soft little reminders like "I’m cheering for you from here."
Riku liked that part. The illusion that Daeyoung was somewhere just out of sight, quietly rooting for him.
Even if, technically, he was just in the next room.
From the floor, Sakuya suddenly made a small, suspicious noise.
"You smile at your phone like that when your mom texts?" he asked.
Riku’s entire body flinched. "What?"
Sakuya rolled over on the carpet with all the grace of a sleepy cat. "You were smiling. Like…" He mimicked a dreamy look. "Like this. All soft and floaty. Who were you texting?"
"No one," Riku said quickly, pulling the phone closer.
Sakuya arched a brow, too amused to stop. "Oho?"
And then–
You have a new message from [JAEHEE].
The notification banner lit up across Riku’s screen. Just for a moment. But long enough.
Sakuya sat upright.
"Wait. Jaehee? DAEYOUNG HYUNG?!"
Riku made a strangled sound and slammed his phone face-down on the couch like that could undo what had just happened.
"You’re subscribed to his Bubble?" Sakuya gasped, practically vibrating. "You pay to get Daeyoung hyung’s texts?! Like…like a fan?!"
Riku groaned into his hands, face rapidly turning the color of strawberry milk.
"It’s not a fan thing," he mumbled. "He writes really well. And he’s–he’s nice. His messages are… kind of relaxing."
"We literally live with him. He’s right there. You could walk ten steps and get a ‘ please eat warm food today ’ in real life."
"But it’s different when he types it," Riku said before he could stop himself.
And Sakuya howled with laughter.
"Oh my god, you like him!" he cackled. "You have a crush! On Daeyoung hyung! That’s why you hoard his messages like secret love letters!"
"I do not hoard them," Riku said defensively.
Sakuya, undeterred, flopped onto the couch beside him, trying to grab the phone. "Do you have a screenshot folder? Be honest. A ‘Jaehee sweet things’ album or something?"
"You’re the worst, get off me!"
Riku shoved at him half-heartedly, mortified but too weak with secondhand embarrassment to fight properly.
Sakuya finally collapsed sideways, laughing breathlessly, and said in the most syrupy voice he could muster, "Ohhh, Riku. Our Rikuri wants Daeyoung hyung to call him ‘sweetheart’ through Bubble, huh?"
"You’re going to make me throw myself off the balcony."
"I’ll catch you, unless Daeyoung hyung gets there first with a message that says ‘don’t fall, I’ll worry’."
"Stop!"
That was when the door clicked.
Both boys turned at the same time.
Daeyoung stepped into the living room, hair slightly damp from the rain, hoodie sleeves pushed up, a plastic bag with convenience store snacks swinging at his side. He blinked at the pair on the couch, visibly confused at the wild shift in energy.
"…What are you two doing?" he asked slowly.
Riku nearly choked on air. He sat bolt upright and tried to smooth his hair like nothing had happened, except his ears were bright pink and he was still half on top of a squashed pillow.
"Nothing," he said, voice cracking slightly. "We weren’t–we were just–"
Sakuya cut in with a wide, knowing smile.
"Riku hyung was reading something really heartwarming, hyung," he said sweetly. "Got all emotional and everything."
Daeyoung raised a brow and walked over, setting the snacks on the coffee table. "Oh? What were you reading, Riku hyung?"
"...A novel," Riku mumbled, grabbing the nearest bag of chips and pretending it was the most fascinating thing in the room.
"A novel on Bubble?" Sakuya muttered under his breath, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs.
Daeyoung didn’t seem to catch it. He just gave that familiar, gentle laugh of his and said, "Must be a good story if you’re blushing."
Riku definitely dropped the chips.
Sakuya bit his lip so hard trying not to laugh, he nearly drew blood.
Daeyoung, ever oblivious, plopped down beside them and pulled out a banana milk, offering it toward Riku. "You like this, right?"
Riku hesitated. Then took it, heart thudding somewhere in his throat.
"Thanks," he said quietly, looking down.
Sakuya watched them, eyes flicking between them like he’d just discovered his new favorite drama. He leaned back with a grin so smug it could be bottled and sold.
₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.
It started the very next day.
Sakuya, self-declared connoisseur of romance, had decided Riku was absolutely hopeless on his own. Which meant it was now his divine duty as the youngest in the dorm (and as someone who’d watched an unhealthy amount of shoujo dramas) to steer this slow-burning pining situation into actual progress.
He wasn’t doing it for fun, obviously.
He was doing it for love.
Sort of.
"Don’t mess with it," Riku whispered later that night, when Sakuya leaned into his bunk and grinned too widely.
"I’m not messing with anything," Sakuya whispered back, adjusting his sleep mask like he wasn’t brimming with suspicious energy. "I’m just saying, you looked really cute when he handed you that banana milk earlier. Like, heart-eyes level cute. I should’ve filmed it."
"Don’t you dare."
"But he likes strawberry milk too, right? So I was thinking. Tomorrow at practice break–"
"No."
"–you could casually walk over and offer him one, say something like, ‘I thought of you when I saw this,’ and then gently brush your fingers when you hand it to him–"
"Sakuya," Riku hissed. "Do you want me to die?"
"It would be so romantic, though," Sakuya said dreamily. "You already pay for his Bubble. That’s, like, devotion. Now you just need to act on it."
Riku sighed into his pillow. He definitely needed to change their roommate situation– and preferably soon.
₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.
The next day, Daeyoung entered the practice room a little late, hair tied up in a tiny ponytail and a cardigan tugged loosely over his training shirt. He looked tired but still somehow managed to smile at everyone like they were the sun and moon and his favorite ramen all at once.
Riku, mid-stretch, looked down at his water bottle and tried not to stare.
"Are you breathing normally?" Sakuya whispered beside him.
"I will hit you," Riku muttered back.
Sakuya just winked. "Don’t forget the banana milk."
Riku had no idea how, but when break time came around, there was a chilled bottle of strawberry milk placed in his locker, complete with a tiny sticky note that read in Sakuya’s handwriting: "For the confession. Ganbatte, Rikuri 🩷"
He nearly screamed.
He nearly threw it away.
But he didn’t.
So there he was, ten minutes later, clutching the bottle in his hands like it was a ticking bomb, hovering behind Daeyoung near the window where he was stretching his shoulders, quietly humming something under his breath.
"Daeyoung."
Daeyoung turned, gentle as always. "Yeah?"
Riku held out the strawberry milk.
"I thought–uh. You might want this."
Daeyoung blinked in surprise, lips curving up. "Oh? Thanks, Riku hyung. Did you go to the convenience store?"
Riku froze. "No. I mean. I had it. I thought of you. I mean–because you like it. Not because I was thinking about you. I mean I was, but–"
Daeyoung laughed softly, taking the bottle and brushing their fingers together completely by accident, which sent Riku’s soul straight into the stratosphere.
"I do like this," Daeyoung said, and Riku swore he saw his eyes warm. "You’re thoughtful."
"Not really," Riku mumbled, heart thudding like a snare drum. "I just remembered."
And then Daeyoung smiled so sweetly that Riku forgot how to breathe again.
Sakuya, watching from across the room with a protein bar halfway to his mouth, nudged their choreographer and whispered, "We might need to move their lockers closer together. For fate."
₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.
Riku told himself he was imagining things.
He had to be imagining things.
There was no way that Daeyoung was replying to him.
It started small. A single message one morning after Riku had sent a sleepy Bubble reply at 3:00 a.m. (something like " ur voice note helped me fall asleep again… thx 🥲💤 " ), and the next afternoon Daeyoung posted:
"I’m glad someone could sleep well with it. I was worried my voice was too rough in that one."
Riku blinked at the screen.
Coincidence.
Just a coincidence.
He didn’t respond.
The next day, Daeyoung posted a selfie. Hoodie on. His bangs slightly damp. And under it, a message:
"Do I really look better with my hair down? A friend said that yesterday but I’m not sure"
Riku had told him that exact thing the night before in a Bubble reply he hadn’t expected anyone–especially Daeyoung–to see:
"hair down suits you more... u look softer somehow."
Now his heart was tap dancing in his chest.
No. No, no, no.
"Maybe he just got a lot of messages saying the same thing," Riku muttered to himself later in the kitchen, nervously stirring his tea like it owed him answers. "There are thousands of people subscribed. It can’t be about me. "
"Who are you talking to?" Sakuya asked from the fridge, pulling out a yogurt with zero shame.
"No one."
"Riiight." Sakuya leaned against the counter, opening the yogurt. "Is it because Daeyoung hyung posted another suspiciously on-the-nose message? Because I saw that too."
"Stop. You’re just feeding my delusions."
"No, I’m validating your experience. " Sakuya licked the spoon. "He’s responding to you. He knows."
"He can’t know," Riku whispered, wide-eyed. "If he knew, he’d say something. He’d tease me. He wouldn’t just respond like that."
Sakuya shrugged. "Maybe he doesn’t want to scare you off. Maybe he’s being careful."
And that thought was far worse.
Riku fled to his room.
But then three days later, it happened again.
Riku replied to a Bubble voice note with a casual, half-serious:
"u sound tired lately… are u okay? take care of urself too pls."
An hour later, a new Bubble post came in.
"You noticed I’ve been tired, huh. Thanks for worrying, jagi. I’ll try to sleep earlier tonight. I promise."
Riku didn’t move for a full minute.
He just stared at his screen, stomach folding in on itself like a dying star.
"…He knows," he whispered.
He was still staring when Daeyoung walked into the room, holding two cups of warm tea–he’d somehow remembered Riku liked barley.
"Hey," Daeyoung said, nudging one into his hands. "You looked frozen."
Riku made a small, squeaky noise. "I’m fine."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." No.
Daeyoung gave him a long look. His gaze was gentle, but there was something sharper underneath it. Not confrontational, just… aware. Curious. Quietly watchful in a way that made Riku feel like every Bubble reply he’d ever sent was now printed across his forehead in bold text.
And then– Daeyoung’s lips curved in the tiniest smile.
"I get some really thoughtful messages on Bubble these days," he said casually, sipping his tea.
Riku froze.
"They’re different," Daeyoung went on. "More personal. Sometimes they even make me laugh. Or think."
Riku gripped his mug like a lifeline. "That’s good. You deserve nice messages."
"Mhhm. Some of them feel like they’re from someone I know. Someone close." His eyes twinkled. "Or maybe I’m just imagining it."
Riku couldn’t feel his face.
"I’m sure a lot of people write like that," he mumbled.
"Yeah," Daeyoung said, voice smooth. "I’m sure."
He took another sip of tea, then glanced at Riku’s hoodie– one of Daeyoung’s, now that he was looking. A loan from last week that had never been returned. His gaze lingered for a second too long.
Riku felt like the air had turned to static.
Sakuya passed behind them just then, absolutely beaming, mouthing "HE KNOWS" with both fists raised like a silent cheer.
Riku stared at his mug.
Daeyoung quietly sat beside him, phone slipping into his pocket, like nothing had happened.
But Riku couldn’t stop thinking about it the rest of the night. The way Daeyoung had smiled when he said "someone close."
₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.
Late at night, the dorm was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of sheets as the members settled into sleep. Riku lay in his bed, the glow of his phone illuminating his face as he scrolled through Daeyoung’s latest Bubble messages.
He paused as he read:
"Oh? 'Jagi' is Riku's nickname for me? I can't call my fans that too? Haha"
Riku's heart skipped a beat. His fingers trembled slightly as he reread the message.
He definitely knows.
He quickly typed a reply:
"you're teasing me now!"
But before he could hit send, he hesitated.
Would that be too obvious?
He deleted the message and instead sent:
"u can call everyone jagi, if u want"
Moments later, another message from Daeyoung appeared:
"Only if my 'Jagi' agrees"
Riku buried his face in his pillow, muffling a groan.
₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.
The sky was starting to turn a soft orange outside the practice room windows. It was one of those in-between moments–post-rehearsal, pre-dinner, the time when everyone drifted off to shower or nap or exist quietly for a while.
Everyone except Riku.
He sat cross-legged on the studio floor, tying and untying his shoelace over and over again, phone glowing dimly beside him.
The Jagi nickname. The subtle replies. The oddly specific mentions. It had gone past coincidence and landed squarely in the territory of Daeyoung knows.
And the worst part was–Riku didn’t know what that meant. Was Daeyoung teasing him? Just being sweet for fun?
Or… something else?
He didn’t hear Daeyoung come in.
"Hey."
Riku looked up fast, too fast. Daeyoung stood by the doorway, still in his hoodie and sweatpants, a bottle of water in hand and a soft, unreadable look in his eyes.
"Everyone else already left," he said. "Why are you still here?"
"I was just…" Riku fumbled. "Untying my… shoe."
Daeyoung blinked. "For twenty minutes?"
Riku looked down, ears already flushing pink. "I needed a break."
There was a pause. A short, quiet moment. And then:
"I’ve been meaning to ask," Daeyoung said gently, coming closer. "Are you subscribed to my Bubble?"
Riku nearly fell over.
"W-what?"
Daeyoung smiled, crouching down beside him, one arm resting on his bent knee. "You don’t have to lie. I noticed a while ago."
Riku wanted the floor to swallow him. Or the ceiling. Either direction worked.
"I just…" He swallowed. "I didn’t think you’d notice."
"I did." Daeyoung’s voice was warm, not teasing. "And I liked it."
Riku blinked.
Daeyoung leaned in a little, lowering his voice like it was just for them. "I liked knowing you were reading. That you cared."
"I–I wasn’t trying to be weird," Riku rushed out. "I just like hearing from you. Your posts are… nice. Calming. And I know we see each other every day, but the way you write on Bubble, it’s different. It feels… special. It’s kind of nice when you greet me good morning."
Daeyoung’s expression softened, a small laugh escaping him. "It is different. I write those messages when I’m thinking about people I care about. And lately, one person’s been on my mind more than anyone else."
Riku’s heart skipped.
Daeyoung reached out, fingers brushing lightly over Riku’s wrist. Not holding– just touching. Just there.
"I didn’t mean to tease with the jagi thing," he said. "Well, not completely."
"Only partially?" Riku asked, breathless.
Daeyoung grinned. "Okay, like 70% teasing. But 30% serious."
Riku looked at him, heart full, skin warm. "Which part’s serious?"
"The part where I meant it." Daeyoung’s thumb brushed lightly over his sleeve. "You’re already special to me."
Riku’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
And then, very quietly, he said, "You’re the only reason I kept that subscription this long."
Daeyoung laughed. "Good. Because now I expect daily replies."
"Even in person?"
"Especially in person."
Riku smiled, shy and soft, and Daeyoung reached up to tuck a bit of his hair behind his ear, lingering for a second longer than necessary.
From the hallway, a faint voice echoed: " IF YOU TWO ARE HAVING A MOMENT, I’M BRINGING POPCORN! "
Riku groaned. "Sakuya."
Daeyoung just laughed again, pulling Riku gently to his feet. "Come on, jagi. Let’s go before he starts narrating a story."
Riku followed him out, heart light and steady, fingers brushing his once again.
For the first time, he didn’t mind if someone noticed.
₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.
The dorm was quiet. All the lights were low, the hum of the fridge in the kitchen barely audible from where Riku sat curled on the living room couch. Everyone had gone to bed, even Sakuya, who had finally stopped hovering like a smug little satellite around the situation.
And Riku– phone in hand, hoodie sleeves tugged over his hands– was smiling to himself.
He had seen Daeyoung’s Bubble message earlier that night. The one that said:
"Thinking of giving my fans a nickname. Should I go with 'Jagi'… or is that taken?"
No names. No details.
But the moment Riku read it, he felt it like a tug on the inside of his chest.
Because just last week, when Sakuya teased him into admitting he liked being called that, he’d written to Daeyoung in a private reply:
"don’t you dare start calling your fans ‘jagi’– that’s mine 😤"
And now he was being teased back, in the most public and private way.
So Riku– after a minute of blushing quietly into the sleeve of his hoodie– opened his own Bubble.
Typed. Paused.
Then, smiling to himself, hit send:
"heard someone’s out here stealing my nickname 👀"
"bold of you, honestly."
"but okay… i’ll share. maybe."
He didn’t tag anyone. He didn’t need to.
Fans flooded the comments with guesses and emojis, laughing and spinning theories. But Riku barely glanced at them. His phone was already locked, dropped lightly onto the cushion beside him.
Moments later, a soft vibration buzzed against the cushion.
A new message on Daeyoung’s Bubble.
Riku blinked and picked it up, heart skipping just a little.
"Me? Never 🙈"
Riku laughed and pulled his blanket higher over his legs.
Across the hall, behind a closed door, he imagined Daeyoung probably smiling too. Maybe even sitting the same way. Phone warm in hand. Waiting to see if he’d reply again.
He didn’t.
Not on Bubble, anyway.
Instead, the next morning in the kitchen, he handed Daeyoung a strawberry milk with a faint blush and said under his breath, "You’re lucky I’m generous."
Daeyoung grinned wide, bumping his shoulder gently. "So it’s official?"
Riku looked away, lips twitching.
"…Don’t make it weird."
Daeyoung just laughed.
"Too late, jagi."