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The final leg of the DOMINATE tour had wrapped just two days ago, and the apartment still carried the faint aftershocks of it all. The scent of stage sweat and hairspray had mostly faded from his suitcase, but Seungmin still felt like his brain hadn’t caught up with the world slowing down. The whirlwind of flights, rehearsals, performances, and fan interactions had given way to a silence that felt too loud in the late hours of the night.
He sat cross-legged on the edge of his bed, hunched slightly, thumbs skimming his phone screen while the soft hum of the air purifier was the only other sound in the room. The soft cotton of his hoodie pooled around his wrists; it was a size too big for him, but that was exactly why he liked it. Or maybe it was just because it was Changbin’s, borrowed long ago and never returned. He always said he’d give it back. He never did.
He should have gone to sleep. He was tired—his muscles ached, and his voice still had a post-tour rasp to it—but instead, Seungmin had gone down the rabbit hole.
He started with fan photos from the Seoul encore, then fancams from Tokyo, some cute edits of their airport outfits, and then...
Comments.
They weren’t even buried under hate. They were just—present. Casual. Said in passing like someone remarking on the weather.
"The tour was amazing! But is it just me or is Seungmin starting to look out of place with the others?"
"Everyone's bulking up and looking strong, and then there's Seungmin... he's still the baby-faced one."
"Not hating, just saying - maybe he should hit the gym like the others."
"Hyunjin and Felix are so ripped now, wow. Even Jeongin's biceps!! Seungmin still looks like he’s 17 lol."
The tone was casual. Not venomous. Not cruel. Not... overtly malicious. But they sunk in anyway.
Seungmin’s eyes hovered on a thread with over five hundred likes, filled with comparison images from the DOMINATE tour. Shirtless Changbin. Arms flexed in choreography. Lee Know’s chiselled frame in that sleeveless outfit. Jeongin’s newly defined shoulders. And in the middle of it, a photo of Seungmin. Fully clothed. Laughing.
He knew he wasn’t the type to show skin on stage. That was a conscious decision. He had boundaries. Comfort zones. But the implication of the thread didn’t care about that. It shouted something that he hadn’t quite let himself believe until now:
You’re the odd one out.
He set the phone face down on the bed and leaned back against the wall. His head bumped softly against it, and he closed his eyes, trying to steady the sudden weight pressing on his chest.
He wasn’t supposed to care. He’d always prided himself on having thicker skin—on being logical. He could rationalize criticism. Laugh off untrue things. But this wasn’t entirely untrue, was it? He hadn’t bulked up like the others. He did still look soft, youthful. Small.
And somewhere deep down, he’d already noticed. He’d seen the way stylists hesitated to give him the same outfits the others wore. Heard the jokes about how he was still the “cute” one. Felt the way his presence on stage had shifted, the way fans screamed louder for the abs, the sweat, the flexed muscles and powerful moves.
It was no one’s fault, really. Just a shift in perception. But it left him feeling adrift.
Seungmin drew his knees up to his chest and let the hoodie sleeves fall over his hands. He stared blankly at the ceiling, mind replaying not just the comments—but the way they made him feel.
Was he not enough anymore?
He thought of the rehearsals. The long nights perfecting every line, every harmony. The moments where he’d supported the others vocally when their energy waned. The times he stood at the edge of the stage to make eye contact with fans in the last rows, smiling until his cheeks ached. He knew he gave his all.
So why did it feel like his all wasn’t enough?
A soft knock of anxiety tapped at his chest. If the fans were beginning to see him as less... would the others too? Would his members start thinking the same things? Would management?
The room felt colder suddenly. He pulled the hoodie tighter.
And then, like muscle memory, his fingers reached for his phone again. Not to check more comments—he couldn’t stomach any more tonight—but to find the one person who always cut through the noise.
Changbin.
He scrolled to the top of his messages. There was a photo Changbin had sent earlier—some late-night protein shake concoction he was proud of, complete with a flexing emoji. Seungmin had replied with a sticker of a sleepy cartoon dog.
He stared at the chat for a moment, thumb hovering.
He didn’t want to seem dramatic. He didn’t want to bother him. But...
He just needed someone right now.
He tapped out a message before he could second-guess himself.
Seungmin: you awake?
Then he waited. Minutes that stretched longer than they should have. He imagined Changbin brushing his teeth, fluffing his pillows, maybe checking his protein intake for the day. Normal things.
But then the typing dots appeared.
Changbin: yeah, just finished washing up. what’s up, pup?
The nickname made something ache in his chest in a way that was almost a relief. It was warm. Familiar. Real.
Seungmin: can i come over?
There was no hesitation.
Changbin: of course. always.
Changbin: want me to come get you?
Seungmin: no i’ll be there in a bit
Changbin: i'm at the gym right now but ill be home soon. you know the code, bring yourself and nothing else.
Seungmin stared at the final message for a moment. Then he slipped off the bed, grabbed a beanie from the nightstand, and slid it over his still-damp hair. He didn’t bother changing out of the hoodie. He didn’t brush his hair or look in the mirror. He didn’t even check the time.
He just pulled on socks and the sneakers nearest the door, stepped into the quiet hallway of the dorm, and left.
The walk to Changbin’s apartment was short, only five minutes, maybe. But tonight it felt longer, like each step was carrying the weight of all those words, all those comparisons.
He passed street lamps casting golden halos on the concrete. A couple of convenience stores closing up. An empty bus stop. The night was gentle and quiet in a way that didn’t match the turmoil in his head.
By the time he reached Changbin’s door, he didn’t feel anxious anymore. He just felt tired.
Not the kind of tired sleep could fix. But the kind that needed comfort. Needed understanding. Needed... him.
He lazily put in the code, watching the light turn green. He turned the knob, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.
The soft creak of the door closing behind him barely registered. Seungmin toed off his sneakers quietly, careful not to let them thump against the floor. The apartment was warm, lit dimly by a lamp in the corner and the soft glow of the TV screen casting nature scenes across the walls.
But before he’d even taken a step farther inside, his phone buzzed softly in his hand.
Changbin: are you there yet?
Seungmin: yeah, i just got in. just didn’t wanna be alone.
Changbin: i get it.
There was a pause, a blink of silence while Seungmin slipped into the apartment fully and gently closed the door. He leaned against it, fingers still gripping his phone like it was a tether to something steady.
Changbin: i left out a hoodie on the couch. it’s not mine though. it’s yours. you keep stealing my clothes anyway lol
A small, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of Seungmin’s mouth. It was faint, almost tired, but it was real. He glanced toward the couch, and sure enough, there was his favorite brown crewneck—the one Changbin always teased him about for being "grandpa chic."
He picked it up with a soft sigh and hugged it to his chest before collapsing into the cushions.
Then, another message.
Changbin: want to talk or just sit in silence for a bit?
Seungmin didn’t answer right away. His thumb hovered, typing and deleting three different times.
Seungmin: i’ll talk. just... not right away.
Changbin: okay. no rush. take your time. i’m here.
Another long pause, then—
Seungmin: you were working out again?
Changbin: haha yeah. trying to keep up with hyunjin’s arms these days
Seungmin: you’ve always looked strong. even before the gym obsession lol
Changbin: you noticed, huh ;)
Seungmin rolled his eyes softly at the winky face. That was always Changbin—half comfort, half goofball, always enough to make Seungmin’s chest unclench just a little.
Then another message followed quickly:
Changbin: you wanna sleep over?
Seungmin: that okay?
Changbin: it’s always okay. your blanket’s still on the bed. i didn’t move it.
Seungmin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Seungmin: i'm just gonna sit on your bed.
Changbin: okay pup, ill be there in 10
Seungmin: see you soon
He set his phone down, gaze lingering on the last message. He still felt the ache in his chest, but it had dulled into something softer—something not so sharp. Changbin had that effect on him.
And in just a few more steps, he’d be in his arms.
The door opened with the soft click of a key turning in the lock, followed by the familiar shuffle of sneakers being kicked off. Seungmin was curled up on the bed, Changbin’s old hoodie draped around his shoulders like a blanket. The room was quiet except for the low murmur of the nature documentary, the screen still zoomed in on a shot of penguins huddled together against the cold.
Seungmin sat up slightly, heart picking up at the sound of Changbin finally returning. He turned his head just in time to see his boyfriend step into the bedroom, gym bag slung over one shoulder, hair slightly damp from a quick rinse at the gym. His sleeveless hoodie clung to his sweat-dampened frame, and Seungmin instinctively looked away.
Changbin dropped the bag gently by the door and spotted him instantly. His eyes softened.
“Hey,” he said, voice low but warm. He crossed the room without hesitation, kneeling in front of Seungmin on the floor and reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “You been here long?”
Seungmin shrugged. “Not really. Maybe ten minutes?”
Changbin looked at him for a long moment, then rested his hands on Seungmin’s knees. “You didn’t say much in the messages, but... I know that look.”
“I figured you were at the gym,” Seungmin said softly, avoiding his gaze. “Didn’t wanna interrupt.”
“You’re never an interruption.”
That simple sentence nearly cracked Seungmin open. He blinked hard, willing the sting behind his eyes to go away.
Changbin noticed. Of course he did.
“Min,” he said, voice even gentler now. “Talk to me.”
Seungmin took a deep breath, picking at the hem of the hoodie.
“I was looking at comments again.”
Changbin said nothing, but the change in his expression said enough. His jaw tensed, but he kept his hands steady, grounding Seungmin.
“They were talking about the tour,” Seungmin continued. “About how everyone’s been bulking up. You, Hyunjin, Jeongin... even Jisung has been showing off more. And then there’s me.”
He finally looked up. His voice cracked just slightly when he said, “They said I look out of place.”
Changbin exhaled slowly, reaching up to gently cup Seungmin’s cheek.
“You don’t.”
“They said I still look like a kid,” Seungmin whispered. “That I don’t match the group’s vibe anymore. That I should go to the gym too.”
Changbin stood and sat beside him on the bed, pulling Seungmin into his arms immediately. Seungmin let himself go—let his head fall onto Changbin’s shoulder, body folding against him like it belonged there.
“Listen to me,” Changbin said, voice low but firm. “I’m not going to lie to you and pretend the comments don’t exist. I know you see them. I do too. But I also know they don’t get to define who you are, or what you bring to the group.”
Seungmin was quiet, but he didn’t pull away.
“You are one of the strongest people I know,” Changbin continued. “Not because of muscles, or how you look in a sleeveless top. But because of how hard you work, how consistent you are, how much heart you give to everything. You’re the emotional core of this team. People feel safe with you, Seungmin. That’s not something a gym can build.”
Seungmin let out a breath, trembling just slightly.
“I just... I don’t want to be left behind,” he admitted. “I don’t want fans to look at the others and then look at me and think I’m not enough.”
Changbin turned toward him, placing both hands gently on his face.
“Hey,” he said, firm now. “You are more than enough. You’re irreplaceable. You’re my person. And I love you exactly as you are. Not after you lift weights. Not after you change something. Now.”
Seungmin blinked, eyes wide.
“I mean it,” Changbin said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “If you ever do want to train more, I’ll be right there with you. But not because you feel pressured. Only if it’s something you want. And it’s not going to change how I see you—how any of us do.”
Seungmin let the silence settle for a moment, breathing in the warmth of Changbin’s embrace. He felt the tightness in his chest start to ease, replaced by something steadier.
“I love you too,” he whispered, voice barely audible.
They sat like that for a while, wrapped in each other. The TV continued playing unnoticed in the background, the soft narration about penguin colonies nothing more than a hum.
Eventually, Changbin shifted them until they were lying down, Seungmin tucked safely against his chest. A blanket was pulled over them, the room dimmed to a sleepy golden hush.
As they drifted toward sleep, Seungmin murmured, “Thanks for waiting for me to say it.”
Changbin smiled into his hair. “Always. I’ll always wait for you.”
With their fingers intertwined and hearts finally quiet, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Together.