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Rehearsal Rooms and Rumors

Summary:

Being in the same group doesn’t mean you get along. Junhui and Minghao have always rubbed each other the wrong way — too sharp, too competitive, too much history. But when they’re forced to rehearse together for a new choreography, something shifts. Friction becomes tension. Tension becomes something else entirely.

Wonwoo watches from the sidelines — Jun’s closest friend, his almost something. He never says what he feels. Until it’s too late.

In a world of shared stages and silent feelings, love begins in stolen glances, quiet heartbreak, and late-night studio lights. Some things end. Some things begin. And sometimes, what hurts the most also makes space for something new.

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The lights in the rehearsal room hummed overhead, casting golden beams across the floor where SEVENTEEN’s members were scattered — some stretching, some scrolling their phones. Jun sat with his back to the mirror, towel around his neck, head tilted back, laughing at something Wonwoo said.

Minghao saw it from across the room.

That laugh. That soft little grin Jun only gave when he felt completely comfortable. It was the same one he used to give him. He hated it.

Minghao turned back to his phone, pretending not to watch. But when Wonwoo leaned in, whispering something into Jun’s ear and Jun blushed

He stood up a little too fast.

“You good?” Hoshi asked as Minghao nearly knocked over a water bottle on his way out.

“Fine,” he muttered, voice clipped. “Just need air.”

Later that evening, the staff handed them the next morning’s press rundown. Among the sea of schedules and promo bullet points was a highlighted tweet from a fan account that had gone viral:

"Wonwoo and Jun's chemistry is NO JOKE lately 👀 #Wonhui #VisualCouple"

Attached was a gif of Wonwoo resting his head on Jun’s shoulder during a behind-the-scenes video shoot. Jun chuckled as he read it aloud. “Guess we’re the new ship.”

Minghao didn’t laugh. “People really think you two are a couple?” he asked, tone flat, eyes fixed on the screen but not reading.

Jun raised a brow. “What, jealous?”

“Why would I be?” A beat of silence. A flicker of tension.

“No reason,” Jun said, too casually. Minghao stormed out before he could say something he’d regret.

 

The next day’s choreo switch was unplanned. Hoshi clapped his hands and said, “Let’s pair up for this last set — Jun, you’re with Minghao. Just like the old days.”

Something shifted in the room. Minghao stiffened. Jun met his eyes, unreadable.

When they danced, it was electric. Too in sync. Too intimate. A storm bottled into movement. The other members watched — even Wonwoo looked up from his phone, frowning slightly.

After they finished, sweat dripping and hearts racing, Jun leaned in to whisper, “Still think there’s no reason to be jealous?”

Minghao blinked. “What?”

Jun tilted his head. “You are jealous.”

Minghao said nothing. He didn’t need to.

That night, Minghao found Jun alone on the dorm rooftop, sipping from a canned coffee, jacket thrown over his shoulders like a careless afterthought. Jun didn’t look surprised. “Thought you’d come find me.”

Minghao crossed his arms. “Why Wonwoo?” Jun shrugged. “Why not? He listens. He gets it.”

“I get it.”

Jun turned to look at him. “Do you?”

Minghao’s voice cracked just slightly. “You think I don’t see you? Every night? Working until you fall asleep in your clothes, practicing lines in the hallway, smiling through every fake rumor they throw at you— I see it all.”

Silence. Just the hum of traffic below.

“I never stopped seeing you,” Minghao added. Jun’s gaze softened. “Then why’d you start acting like I wasn’t there?”

Minghao hesitated. “Because if I admitted I cared, I’d have to admit I wanted more. And I didn’t know if you did too.” Jun stepped closer. Just a little.

“What if I do?” This time, it was Jun who leaned in first.

This time, Minghao kissed back.

The next rehearsal, they danced like nothing had changed — except everything had. Their movements flowed smoother, their eyes lingered longer. And when Wonwoo passed by, tossing a quiet “You two are intense,” Jun only smiled.

Minghao didn’t look away.

He didn’t have to anymore.

 

wonwoo pov

 

"Are you two..." Seungkwan raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. "...hooking up?" Jun choked on his water. Minghao blinked. “No,” Jun coughed, shooting Minghao a glance. “Why would you say that?”

Seungkwan just smirked. “Because someone spent 15 minutes fixing Minghao’s mic pack this morning like a doting stage husband, that’s why.” Joshua chuckled from the couch. “Also, you called him ‘hao-baby’ under your breath during rehearsal.”

Jun glared. “That was— I didn’t—” Minghao didn’t say a word. Just smiled faintly. Which made it worse.

Wonwoo, sitting by the door, said nothing at all. But his eyes didn’t leave Jun the entire time.

They were on the second leg of their Asia tour — hotel rooms blending into each other, sleep a rare luxury. One night in Tokyo, Minghao found Jun sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling through fan cams.

"You're doing that thing again," Minghao said, towel draped around his neck.

Jun looked up. “What thing?” “Judging yourself.” Jun’s expression faltered. “They caught me messing up the turn. It’s already clipped online.”

“So? You think anyone cares?” Jun gave him a small, tired smile. “I care.” Minghao crossed the room slowly and sat beside him, their knees brushing.

“You’re allowed to not be perfect.”

Jun didn’t respond immediately, but when he did, it was quieter than before. “Sometimes I don’t know who I am when I’m not performing.” Minghao placed a hand over his. “You’re still Jun. That’s enough.”

That night, they slept in the same bed — nothing happened, just warmth, just trust. And in the morning, when Jun woke up first and saw Minghao curled into his side, he thought: Maybe this is the most real I’ve ever felt.

Wonwoo pulled Jun aside during a soundcheck in Singapore.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, tone neutral, but eyes sharp.

Jun nodded. “Yeah?” “Are you and Minghao serious?”

Jun blinked. “Why?” Wonwoo looked away, tapping the mic in his hand like it held answers. “Because if you are, I’ll back off. Completely.”

Jun tilted his head. “Back off what?” “You know what.” There it was — finally spoken.

Jun exhaled, slow. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” “I didn’t either, until I lost the chance.” Jun gave a small, sad smile. “I think I was waiting for you. But you never came.”

Wonwoo nodded. “I know.” They didn’t say goodbye. Just walked away in different directions. Later that night, Jun slipped into Minghao’s dressing room and pulled him into a quiet kiss, not needing to explain.

They didn’t announce it. But the group wasn’t stupid.

DK cornered Jun in the kitchen of the dorm one morning. “So… Minghao, huh?”

Jun groaned. “Oh my god, did Seungkwan tell you?”

“No. You just confirmed it,” DK said brightly. Jun slapped a hand to his forehead while Jeonghan smirked from the couch.

“You two are cute,” Jeonghan added. “But if you break his heart, I’ll kill you with glitter. Slowly.” Behind them, Vernon blinked. “Wait… they’re together together?” Hoshi just shrugged. “Knew it. Too much eye contact.”