Chapter Text
The vending machine buzzed in the corner, casting a cool glow over the hallway. Seonghyeon crouched in front of it, studying the neat rows of cans like he was solving a riddle.
“Peach iced tea… or maybe the lemon one…” he muttered. “But what if the lemon’s too sour? Then again, peach can be too sweet sometimes…”
Behind him, Juhoon stood with his hands in his pockets, his presence steady and quiet. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched as Seonghyeon squinted at the options, head tilting one way and then the other.
“You’ve been there for three minutes,” Juhoon finally said, his voice low and even.
“I just don’t wanna pick the wrong one,” Seonghyeon whined, glancing up. “Let me try a sip first, then I’ll decide.”
Juhoon stepped forward without hesitation, punching in the number for peach iced tea. The can clattered into the tray, and before Seonghyeon could react, Juhoon had already picked it up and cracked it open with a sharp click.
He held it out, his eyes steady on Seonghyeon’s. “Drink.”
Seonghyeon blinked. “Wait—you didn’t even let me choose—”
“Drink,” Juhoon repeated, a little firmer this time, pointing at the can like there was no room for argument.
Seonghyeon huffed, rocking back on his heels. “Hyung, you’re so… bossy.”
Juhoon’s lips curved slightly, the faintest smirk. “You couldn’t choose.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to—” Seonghyeon cut himself off when Juhoon leaned the can closer, his gaze unwavering, patient in a way that somehow made refusing harder than just giving in.
With a small groan, Seonghyeon took the can and lifted it to his lips. The tea was sweet, the kind that lingered at the back of his throat, refreshing after the stale air of the hallway. It was good. Of course it was good.
He lowered the can and tried not to look too satisfied. “It’s fine,” he muttered, feigning casualness.
“I know,” Juhoon said simply. His tone wasn’t smug, exactly, but there was something in it that made Seonghyeon glance away, ears warming.
He took another sip, slower this time, then handed the can back. Juhoon didn’t take it. Instead, he nudged it back toward him with one finger. “Finish it.”
Seonghyeon let out an incredulous laugh. “What, now it’s mine?”
“You wanted to try first,” Juhoon replied, his expression unreadable except for the faint curve still tugging at his lips. “Now it’s yours.”
Seonghyeon groaned dramatically, covering half his face with his hand, though he kept the can in the other. “You’re impossible.”
Juhoon’s only response was a quiet chuckle, low and short-lived, but enough to make Seonghyeon peek at him from between his fingers. For someone who was usually so serious, that tiny laugh felt like some kind of win.
And for reasons he couldn’t explain, the peach tea tasted even better after that.
The vending machine spat out the empty can when Seonghyeon finished the last sip. He sighed, tossing it into the recycling bin nearby.
“Happy now?” he asked, side-eyeing Juhoon as they started down the hallway together.
Juhoon walked with his usual slow, steady pace, hands in his pockets. “You drank it all.”
“Because you told me to,” Seonghyeon muttered.
Juhoon hummed in quiet acknowledgment, the sound low in his throat. He didn’t elaborate, didn’t need to. That was the infuriating thing—he never said much, but somehow it was always enough to leave Seonghyeon flustered.
They turned a corner, heading toward the practice rooms. The hallway was empty, their footsteps echoing against the floor. Seonghyeon shoved his hands into the pouch of his hoodie, rocking back and forth as he walked.
Seonghyeon kicked lightly at the floor tiles as they walked, glancing up at Juhoon. “You didn’t even ask if I wanted the peach tea. Just decided for me like I wasn’t capable.”
Juhoon’s stride didn’t falter. “You couldn’t decide.”
“I could,” Seonghyeon argued, though his voice had that soft, whining edge. “I just wanted to taste first!”
Juhoon’s eyes flicked toward him, calm and steady, but that faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Tasted. Decided.”
Seonghyeon groaned. “That’s not fair. You’re cheating.”
“Cheating?” Juhoon asked, brows lifting slightly. “I made it easier for you.”
“You made it bossier,” Seonghyeon muttered, kicking another tile with exaggerated flair. “Totally bossy. Like a dictator.”
Juhoon chuckled lowly, the sound soft and amused. “You weren’t complaining when you drank it.”
Seonghyeon shot him a look. “I wasn’t… exactly not complaining,” he said, dragging the words out. “But you didn’t have to make it a command, hyung.”
Juhoon’s gaze lingered on him, quiet and steady, and Seonghyeon felt a strange, light flutter in his stomach. He looked down at his shoes, pretending to tie his hoodie strings.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he finally asked, voice small.
“I’m not,” Juhoon said easily, though the corner of his mouth twitched in a way that made Seonghyeon’s chest tighten for no reason.
Seonghyeon huffed, trying to hide the weird little smile forming on his face. “Sure you’re not.”
They walked a few more steps in comfortable silence. Seonghyeon found himself unconsciously matching Juhoon’s pace, slower than usual for him, just to stay beside him.
“You know,” Seonghyeon said after a beat, “next time, I’m choosing my drink. No one tells me what to do.”
Juhoon’s eyes flicked to him, calm as ever. “You’ll still ask for my opinion.”
Seonghyeon froze mid-step. “…Maybe,” he admitted, voice quieter than he meant.
Juhoon didn’t comment, just walked on, letting him stew in that little admission. Seonghyeon tried to act annoyed, swinging his arms a little, but he caught himself stealing glances at Juhoon anyway, as if seeing him made everything around him just a bit easier to bear.
By the time they reached the practice room door, Seonghyeon realized he’d been smiling the entire walk, though he had no idea why.
Juhoon held the door open, looking down at him once, expression unreadable. “Come on. You’ll be late if we linger.”
Seonghyeon stepped inside first, muttering over his shoulder, “I wasn’t lingering.”
Juhoon’s hand brushed lightly against his hand as he followed, and Seonghyeon felt that flutter again, fleeting and strange, and tried not to think about it too hard.
“Bossy hyung,” he whispered, mostly to himself.
“You listened,” Juhoon said quietly, and that was enough to keep Seonghyeon smiling as he dropped his bag by the door.