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The dorm was unusually quiet that evening. Usually, the living room would be buzzing—Mingyu nagging about dishes, Seungkwan complaining about the Wi-Fi, Seokmin humming something off-key. But tonight, everyone was scattered. Phones buzzed with notifications, group chat links piling up about the same thing: Joshua’s face splashed across headlines.
He sat on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling through comments he should’ve ignored. Rumor. Dating. Disappointment. Fake smile. His chest tightened with every word, but his face betrayed nothing—just that same small, practiced smile.
“Shua, you want ramen?” Jeonghan asked from the kitchen, trying to sound casual.
Joshua shook his head. “Not hungry.”
When Jeonghan’s footsteps faded, Joshua leaned back against the couch, the smile slipping away. His fingers trembled around the phone. His throat ached with words he’d never say.
That’s when Seokmin walked in, fresh from showering after practice, hair damp, shirt hanging loose. He froze at the sight—Joshua’s eyes glassy, his knuckles white against the phone.
“Hyung?” Seokmin’s voice was soft, tentative.
Joshua quickly wiped at his face, forcing a laugh. “It’s nothing, Min. Just tired.”
But Seokmin wasn’t convinced. He sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed, but didn’t push. Instead, he slipped his phone out of Joshua’s hand, placed it screen-down on the table, and leaned back too.
“Then let’s be tired together,” he murmured.
No grand speeches, no heavy questions. Just warmth, shoulder to shoulder, silence stretching between them. And for the first time that night, Joshua’s chest loosened just a little.
----
Weeks passed. The storm of the rumor hadn’t quite cleared, but schedules marched on. Interviews, rehearsals, variety shows. Joshua moved through them with the same practiced grace as always. Only this time, the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Seungkwan noticed first during a filming break. “Hyung, you laughed… but it didn’t sound like you,” he whispered, frowning. Joshua only patted his head and said, “Don’t worry so much.”
At breakfast one morning, the others filled the dorm with chatter and noise. Minghao was teasing Vernon, Woozi had his earphones in, Jun was laughing at something on his phone. Amid the chaos, Seokmin watched Joshua push eggs around his plate without eating a single bite.
“You should eat more,” Seokmin said lightly, trying not to sound like he was nagging.
Joshua looked up, gave a small, polite smile, and said, “I will later.” But his fork never lifted.
Something twisted in Seokmin’s chest. He wanted to call him out, wanted to beg him to stop pretending. Instead, he stood, grabbed a bottle of banana milk from the fridge, and slid it onto the table in front of Joshua.
“What’s this?” Joshua blinked up at him.
“Fuel. You need it,” Seokmin said with a grin that was brighter than he felt.
Joshua chuckled softly, the sound fleeting but real. He picked up the bottle, sipping quietly. Later, when Joshua was packing his bag for rehearsal, he found a juice packet and a sticky note inside with messy handwriting:
Don’t forget to drink this, Shua. – DK
For the first time in days, Joshua’s lips curved into a real, unguarded smile.
------
Few days later, the dorm living room was a mess of laughter. Mingyu was failing miserably at charades, Jeonghan kept deliberately guessing the wrong answers, and everyone was doubled over, clutching their stomachs.
Everyone except Joshua.
He was there on the edge of the couch, lips curved in a small smile, but his laughter always came half a second too late. His eyes didn’t crinkle the way they used to. Every once in a while, his gaze drifted to the floor, expression blank before he quickly masked it again.
Seungkwan’s laughter died first. He looked across the room and frowned, nudging Vernon. Vernon followed his gaze, then glanced at Jeonghan. A silent exchange passed between them, something’s wrong.
Joshua felt the weight of their stares and quickly clapped his hands together, chuckling louder than necessary. “You guys are seriously ridiculous,” he said, his voice light.
But Seokmin, sitting on the floor in front of him, caught the way his smile faltered the second he thought no one was looking. His chest squeezed painfully.
---
The next day, the thump of the bass echoed through the mirrors. Sweat dripped down every member’s face, their breaths heavy as they drilled the chorus again and again.
But Joshua was off-beat. His steps sluggish, his eyes unfocused.
“Hyung, you’re late,” Woozi snapped, frustration clear. “Focus, please.”
Joshua quickly bowed his head. “Sorry, sorry—I’ll get it.”
They restarted. And again, Joshua stumbled. Woozi opened his mouth to say more, but stopped when he saw the look in Joshua’s eyes—distant, like he wasn’t really there at all.
Seokmin stepped forward quickly, clapping Joshua on the shoulder. “It’s fine, Shua. Let’s take five, yeah?” he said cheerfully.
Joshua gave him a grateful but weary look before heading to the corner to sip water. He sat down, shoulders hunched, towel over his head. From across the room, Seokmin kept glancing at him, his own chest tightening with worry.
-----
That night, the dorm was wrapped in silence, the kind of heavy stillness that only came in the middle of the night. Everyone else had long retreated to their rooms, but Joshua lay awake, staring at the ceiling in the dark. His chest felt tight, thoughts swirling endlessly—each headline, each cruel comment replaying like a broken record.
He pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes, willing the tears away. But the ache was too much. His breath hitched, and before he could stop himself, soft sobs slipped out, muffled against his blanket.
The sound of the door creaking open made him jolt. He quickly turned to the side, swiping at his face.
“Hyung?”
Seokmin’s voice was low, hesitant. He stood by the door, hair messy, drowning in an oversized white t-shirt. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, catching the tremble in Joshua’s shoulders.
“I… I’m fine, Min. Go back to bed,” Joshua whispered, his voice breaking halfway.
Seokmin didn’t answer right away. He walked across the room, silent but purposeful. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached out and gently cupped Joshua’s cheek, tilting his face toward him. His heart cracked at the sight—red eyes, wet lashes, a trembling smile that tried and failed to pretend.
“Oh, hyung…” Seokmin breathed.
Joshua shook his head, more tears falling. “I just— I can’t—” His words dissolved into sobs.
Seokmin didn’t hesitate. With careful strength, he slid his arms under Joshua’s shoulders and knees, lifting him from the mattress. Joshua clung to him instinctively, fists curling into his shirt as he was being carried across the short space and settled onto Seokmin’s lap.
“There,” Seokmin whispered, adjusting Joshua so he could lean comfortably against his chest. One arm wrapped securely around his waist, the other smoothing down his hair with tender strokes. “Stay here with me.”
Joshua broke then, truly broke. He buried his face against Seokmin’s chest, sobbing hard, the sound raw and helpless.
“Shhh…” Seokmin soothed, rocking him gently. He pressed a lingering kiss to the top of Joshua’s head, then another to his damp temple, and another to his hairline. “It’s okay to cry, Shua. You don’t have to hold it in with me.”
Joshua’s voice was muffled against him, shaking. “It hurts so much… they hate me, Min. I don’t know how to keep smiling anymore.”
Seokmin’s grip tightened protectively around him. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Joshua’s eye, catching the tear there. “You don’t need to smile right now. Not for them, not for anyone. Just rest. Let me be your smile tonight, okay?”
Joshua hiccuped, clutching Seokmin tighter, like he was anchoring himself. His body trembled, but with every soft kiss Seokmin pressed to his forehead, his hair, his damp cheeks, the storm began to ease.
Minutes stretched quietly. The sobs softened into sniffles, then into shaky breaths. Joshua’s weight grew heavier in Seokmin’s lap, his body relaxing, exhaustion finally dragging him down.
Seokmin leaned down, whispering against his hair, “I’ll take care of you. Always. I promise.” His hand caressed Joshua’s back in slow, steady circles until his breathing evened out.
When he was sure Joshua was asleep, Seokmin tilted his head back against the wall, still holding him close, still pressing absentminded kisses into his hair. His shirt was damp, his chest ached from seeing Joshua break like that, but his arms never loosened.
That night, Seokmin made himself a quiet vow, one he had whispered to himself countless times before but meant more than ever now: I’ll protect that smile. I’ll carry his pain if I have to. I’ll never let him feel alone.
And with Joshua asleep in his lap, safe in his arms, Seokmin knew he would keep that promise for as long as it took.
-----
Sunlight slipped faintly through the dorm curtains, painting the room in a soft, golden haze. Joshua stirred slowly, his body sore from how tightly he’d curled up the night before.
Something warm and solid was beneath him. His lashes fluttered open, and he blinked at the sight—Seokmin’s chest rising and falling steadily, his face tilted back against the wall, lips parted slightly in sleep. One arm was draped protectively around Joshua’s waist, holding him close as if even in dreams he refused to let go.
Joshua froze, heart tightening. Memories rushed back—his sobs, the way Seokmin had held him, whispered to him, kissed away his tears. His cheeks flushed at the thought, but more than embarrassment, it was warmth that spread through him.
Carefully, he shifted, trying not to wake him. But the movement stirred Seokmin anyway. His lashes lifted, revealing bleary eyes that softened instantly when they landed on Joshua.
“Morning, hyung,” Seokmin murmured, his voice husky with sleep. His hand rubbed Joshua’s back absentmindedly, as if it belonged there. “Did you sleep okay?”
Joshua’s throat tightened. He nodded. “Yeah… thanks to you.”
Seokmin smiled faintly, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead without thinking. “Good. Then I did my job.”
Joshua blinked at him, stunned. And for the first time in weeks, a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips—fragile, but real.
---
Later, when they joined the others for breakfast, Seungkwan immediately noticed the change. Joshua’s eyes looked less heavy, his shoulders not quite so weighed down. He even chuckled softly at Mingyu’s clumsy attempt at flipping an omelet.
The members exchanged glances, relief quietly passing between them. Whatever had happened last night, it had helped.
And from across the table, Seokmin caught Joshua’s gaze. They shared a small, secret smile—just theirs.
------
Seokmin’s promise to himself wasn’t just words. It became a routine, woven seamlessly into their days.
At practice, when Joshua lingered too long in the corner with a distant look in his eyes, Seokmin would plop down beside him, offering a water bottle with a cheerful, “Hydrate or I’ll scold you, hyung.” Joshua always accepted, lips twitching upward despite himself.
At meals, Seokmin quietly added extra side dishes onto Joshua’s plate, nudging him with a grin. “Eat more, or I’ll grow taller than you.” Joshua rolled his eyes but ate anyway.
On busy schedules, Seokmin slipped tiny notes into Joshua’s pockets. Smile when you feel like it. Not when they expect it. Or, Your laugh makes me sing better, so don’t hold back.
At night, when the dorm settled into silence, Joshua sometimes found himself lingering at Seokmin’s door. And Seokmin never asked questions, he just lifted his blanket in invitation. Joshua would crawl in, resting his head against Seokmin’s chest, soothed by the steady heartbeat beneath his ear.
Each night, Seokmin kissed the crown of his head before whispering, “You’re doing so well, Shua. I’m proud of you.”
Joshua didn’t always respond, but the way his body relaxed, the way his breathing evened out in Seokmin’s arms, was answer enough.
---
With every small act of care, Joshua’s smile returned—piece by piece, fragile at first, then brighter, steadier. The others noticed, but none of them mentioned it aloud. They didn’t need to. They knew who had been there, holding him through the storm.
And Seokmin, every time he saw that smile bloom again, felt the same silent vow echo in his chest: I’ll protect it, no matter what.
--------
Few days later, the dorm was still, most of the members asleep. Joshua lay awake again, staring at the ceiling in Seokmin’s room, head resting lightly against Seokmin’s shoulder. He’d gotten used to slipping in here at night, where Seokmin’s warmth was steady, his arms always open.
But tonight, even Seokmin’s quiet heartbeat couldn’t settle the storm inside him. His chest was too heavy, words clawing their way up his throat.
“Min…” Joshua whispered suddenly.
Seokmin, half-asleep, hummed. “Mm?” His hand instinctively tightened around Joshua’s waist.
There was a long pause. Joshua’s throat worked as he forced the words out. “…I’m scared.”
That woke Seokmin fully. He shifted, tilting his head so he could see Joshua’s profile in the faint glow from the hallway light. “Scared of what, hyung?”
Joshua’s lips trembled. His fingers fidgeted with the fabric of Seokmin’s shirt, twisting it tight. “Of everything. Of the fans turning their backs on me. Of disappointing the members. Of… of being someone who doesn’t deserve to stand here anymore.”
His voice broke on the last words, and his eyes filled with tears. He shut them quickly, ashamed. “I keep thinking… maybe they’d all be happier if it was someone else instead of me.”
Seokmin’s heart clenched. Without hesitation, he cupped Joshua’s cheek, turning his face so he couldn’t hide. “Don’t you dare say that.” His voice was soft but firm, carrying no room for doubt.
Joshua’s eyes fluttered open, tears spilling anyway.
Seokmin leaned closer, pressing their foreheads together, his thumb brushing gently at the wetness on Joshua’s skin. “You belong here. With us. You’ve never disappointed anyone, least of all me. Do you know how many times your voice has pulled me out of bad days? How many times your smile saved the room when it felt too heavy? Hyung… you’re part of the reason Seventeen feels like home.”
Joshua’s breath shook, his walls threatening to crumble again. “But Min, what if they keep hating me? What if no matter what I do, it’s never enough?”
Seokmin kissed his temple softly, lingering there. “Then let them. They don’t know you like I do. They don’t see you like we do. And I’ll remind you as many times as it takes—your worth isn’t theirs to decide.”
Joshua finally let out a quiet sob, curling against Seokmin’s chest. And Seokmin just held him, rocking him gently, one hand stroking his hair.
“Whenever you forget,” Seokmin whispered into his hair, “I’ll be here to remind you. A thousand times if I have to. You don’t have to carry this alone, hyung. I’ll carry it with you.”
Joshua’s grip on his shirt tightened, grounding himself in Seokmin’s warmth. For the first time, he felt lighter—not because the fear was gone, but because he wasn’t holding it alone anymore.
Minutes passed, Joshua’s tears quieting. His body relaxed against Seokmin’s, exhaustion winning over.
Seokmin pressed a final kiss to his forehead, whispering a vow only the walls heard: “I’ll always be your safe place.”
And as Joshua drifted into sleep in his arms, Seokmin knew he meant it with every fiber of his being.
------
Joshua woke up to the smell of something faintly sweet. Groggy, he blinked open his eyes and turned to see Seokmin perched at the edge of the bed, holding out a mug.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Seokmin chirped.
Joshua sat up, hair mussed, blinking suspiciously. “…Did you make coffee?”
“Not just coffee. Vanilla latte,” Seokmin said proudly, handing it over like an offering. “With exactly two pumps of syrup, because you’re picky.”
Joshua chuckled softly, taking the mug. He sipped, warmth spreading down his chest, and his eyes softened. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But you smiled,” Seokmin grinned, pointing a finger at him. “Mission accomplished.”
Joshua tried to roll his eyes, but the curve of his lips betrayed him.
---
That evening, Seokmin decided dinner was his responsibility. Joshua wandered into the kitchen to find Seokmin in an apron, surrounded by half-chopped vegetables and a pan smoking on the stove.
“Are you trying to set the dorm on fire?” Joshua deadpanned.
Seokmin gasped dramatically. “This is art! You just don’t understand my genius.”
Joshua leaned against the counter, arms crossed, but the corners of his mouth twitched.
Seokmin noticed. He grabbed a piece of carrot and held it up. “Say ‘ahhh.’”
Joshua raised a brow. “No.”
“Come onnn, hyung,” Seokmin pouted, swaying side to side. “For me?”
With an exaggerated sigh, Joshua parted his lips just enough for Seokmin to pop the carrot in. He chewed, expression unreadable, before saying dryly, “Not bad.”
Seokmin lit up like he’d won a trophy. “See?! I’m amazing!”
Joshua shook his head, laughter spilling out—light, genuine, and unforced. It was music to Seokmin’s ears.
-------
After practice, when exhaustion weighed heavy, Joshua slipped into Seokmin’s bed without a word. It had become a ritual—no questions asked, no explanations needed.
Seokmin always made space, lifting the blanket, letting Joshua curl into his side. Tonight, Joshua rested his head on Seokmin’s chest, ear pressed to the steady rhythm of his heart.
“You’re warm,” Joshua mumbled.
“That’s because you steal all the blanket,” Seokmin teased, tucking it tighter around them both anyway.
Joshua’s lips brushed faintly against his shirt as he murmured, “Thank you… for staying with me.”
Seokmin tilted his head down, pressing a kiss to Joshua’s hair. “Always, hyung. Always.”
And as Joshua’s breathing evened, Seokmin kept tracing gentle patterns on his back, whispering silly little nothings—about songs he wanted to write, desserts he wanted to try making, or how Joshua’s hair tickled his chin. Things small and ordinary, yet grounding, wrapping Joshua in the quiet safety of their little world.
---
One afternoon, while the dorm was unusually quiet, Seokmin dragged Joshua to the practice room.
“Why are we here?” Joshua asked, eyebrows raised.
“Because I want to sing for you,” Seokmin said simply, setting up the mic.
Joshua blinked, caught off guard. “…Just me?”
“Just you.”
And then Seokmin sang—softly, gently, not with the booming power he used on stage, but with tenderness threaded through every note. His eyes never left Joshua’s.
Joshua sat there, silent, hands folded in his lap, but his throat felt tight. No one had ever sung to him like this, like every word was a promise.
When Seokmin finished, Joshua’s voice cracked as he whispered, “…You’re crazy.”
Seokmin only smiled, stepping close, cupping his cheek. “Crazy about you.”
Joshua flushed, but the laugh that escaped him was real, his chest lighter than it had been in months.
---
Every little moment stitched Joshua back together—piece by piece, day by day. And though the world outside still buzzed with rumors, here, in Seokmin’s love, Joshua found a place where he could breathe.
-------
The dorm was buzzing softly with late afternoon sounds—Mingyu yelling triumphantly as he scored another goal on the screen, Seungkwan throwing a cushion at him for being “too smug,” and Seokmin laughing, controller clutched in his hands as he tried to keep up in their competitive match.
They were so wrapped up in the game that they almost didn’t notice the front door clicking open. Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s voices filtered in faintly, talking about groceries, but Seokmin’s eyes immediately flickered up when he spotted Joshua stepping inside.
Joshua’s gaze didn’t even sweep the room. Instead, his feet carried him straight toward Seokmin. Without a word, he eased himself onto Seokmin’s lap, curling against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Hyung—” Mingyu blinked, caught mid-yell. Seungkwan’s jaw dropped slightly, though he quickly masked it with a little smirk.
Seokmin was startled only for a second. Then he chuckled softly, setting the controller aside, choosing to lose the match just to give Joshua his full attention. His hands automatically came up to steady Joshua by the waist, pulling him closer. “Shua? What’s this sudden lap invasion, huh?” he teased gently, but his tone was all fondness.
Joshua tilted his head up, eyes bright in a way Seokmin hadn’t seen in weeks. He pulled something small from his pocket and held it out, his lips twitching with a faint smile. “I—I got you something.”
Seokmin blinked, then carefully took the tiny box. Opening it, his breath caught. Inside was a simple silver locket, elegant but understated—so Joshua. He pressed his lips together, feeling an unexpected wave of emotion rush through him.
“You bought this… for me?” His voice cracked slightly, soft and full of disbelief.
Joshua nodded quickly, a little shy now. “I saw it while shopping with Jeonghannie and Cheol. I didn’t like anything else. Just… this, for you.”
Seokmin’s chest tightened. He placed the box aside, not caring about the locket for the moment, and wrapped Joshua into his arms, hugging him tightly against his chest. He pressed his lips to Joshua’s hair, speaking softly against it. “Thank you, hyung. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
Joshua melted into him, cheeks warm, and murmured something Seokmin couldn’t catch before his eyes began fluttering shut. Exhaustion was written all over his face, but the faint little smile still lingered as he tucked himself deeper against Seokmin’s chest.
Seokmin shifted slightly, cradling him more securely in his lap. His hand threaded through Joshua’s hair, stroking rhythmically, while his lips pressed quiet kisses along Joshua’s temple and forehead. “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe,” he whispered, voice breaking with tenderness.
Joshua’s body relaxed against him, as if that hug was the only place he wanted to be. Seokmin peppered soft kisses on his temple, his hair, the corner of his forehead. The tension bled out of Joshua little by little until his eyelids began to droop. His head sank onto Seokmin’s shoulder, and his breathing grew steady.
Seokmin stayed like that, one hand combing through Joshua’s hair slowly, the other rubbing circles on his back. He glanced down at the peaceful face pressed against him, his own smile tender and faintly trembling.
Within minutes, Joshua was asleep, breathing steady, his weight heavy but comforting in Seokmin’s arms.
Finally, Jeonghan murmured, “You’re really taking care of him, huh.”
Seokmin glanced up, still caressing Joshua’s hair, and gave them a small, sheepish smile. “I just want him to smile again. That’s all I need.” His eyes dropped back to Joshua, his expression full of unspoken love. “I’ll do everything I can to keep him like this.”
Seungcheol nodded with a rare softness. “He needs that. And… he’s lucky he has you.”
Even Mingyu and Seungkwan exchanged glances, the usual teasing absent. Seokmin smiled faintly, hugging Joshua closer as if to prove their words right.
In that quiet, everyone understood. Joshua was healing—slowly, painfully, beautifully—and Seokmin was his anchor.
------
The dorm was quiet that night, soft hums of the air conditioner mixing with the faint sounds of the city outside. Seokmin lay on his bed, phone screen dimmed, his fingers idly rolling the small silver locket Joshua had given him earlier that day. He wore it around his neck, the cool metal resting against his collarbone, and every so often he caught himself smiling just because it was there.
He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, clutching the locket between his fingers. Joshua thought of me… only me. The thought alone made his chest swell with a kind of warmth he hadn’t dared to name until now.
Just then, a soft knock came at his door.
Seokmin turned his head.
“Yeah?” he called out gently.
The door creaked open and Joshua peeked in. His face looked tired, his eyes heavy, but there was no word on his lips. Instead, he stepped inside quietly, almost shyly, and before Seokmin could ask anything, Joshua walked over to the bed. Without hesitation, he slipped under the covers, turning on his side so his back pressed firmly against Seokmin’s chest.
Seokmin froze, his heart racing, but his body moved before his mind could catch up. His arm slid naturally under Joshua’s head, cradling it like a pillow, while the other wrapped carefully around Joshua’s waist. Their bodies fit together too perfectly, as though they’d been made to rest like this.
Joshua exhaled softly, his shoulders sinking with relief as though this was exactly where he belonged.
Seokmin’s chest burned with emotion. He pressed his face into Joshua’s hair for a brief moment, breathing him in, the faint smell of his shampoo soothing his racing heart. He wanted to stay like this forever.
Minutes passed in silence, only the sound of their steady breaths filling the room. Finally, unable to hold back anymore, Seokmin whispered:
“Hyung?”
Joshua hummed, barely awake but listening.
Seokmin swallowed hard, fingers trembling slightly where they rested on Joshua’s waist. “Can I… please be your boyfriend?” His voice cracked at the end, laced with fear but also hope.
Joshua stilled. Slowly, he turned in Seokmin’s arms until they were face-to-face. His hands came up, cupping Seokmin’s cheeks with a tenderness that made Seokmin’s eyes flutter shut for a second. Joshua’s thumbs brushed softly over his skin, and when Seokmin opened his eyes again, he found Joshua smiling — soft, tired, but so full of love.
“I would love to be your boyfriend, Minnie,” Joshua whispered.
Seokmin’s heart nearly burst. He surged forward, capturing Joshua’s lips in a kiss that was desperate yet reverent. Joshua kissed him back with equal intensity, his fingers threading into Seokmin’s hair while Seokmin’s hands cupped his face, stroking along his cheeks and jaw. Their lips moved slowly at first, then deeper, like they were trying to pour every unspoken word into each other.
When they finally pulled away just enough to breathe, Seokmin rested his forehead against Joshua’s, his voice breaking as he whispered, “Thank you… thank you for trusting me. I’ll always love you, and I’ll protect you, no matter what.”
Joshua’s eyes softened, and he leaned in again, brushing his lips over Seokmin’s with a smile. “I know you will.”
Seokmin held him tighter, one hand tangled in Joshua’s hair, the other pressed securely at his back, as if promising never to let go. And that night, with hearts laid bare, they kissed until exhaustion pulled Joshua into sleep — still wrapped safely in Seokmin’s arms.
------
The next morning, sunlight spilled lazily into the dorm kitchen, warm and golden, touching the countertops. Seokmin was already there, hair messy, tugging down one of Joshua’s tshirts that he had somehow ended up wearing. He was fumbling with eggs and bread, determined but clearly distracted—because all he could think about was the warmth from last night, Joshua’s body against his, and the words that kept echoing in his head: “I would love to be your boyfriend, Minnie.”
The soft sound of footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned, and there was Joshua—draped in one of his oversized tees, sleepy but glowing, his lips curved into the kind of smile that made Seokmin’s chest ache with love.
“Morning,” Joshua mumbled, voice rough from sleep, padding into the kitchen.
“Morning, hyung,” Seokmin said, softer than he meant to, but Joshua noticed. He always noticed.
Joshua moved straight to his side, brushing against him lightly before reaching for the loaf of bread. But instead of doing anything with it, he tilted his head and pressed the lightest kiss to Seokmin’s jaw. Seokmin froze then laughed shyly, ducking his head.
“Hyung… we’re supposed to be making breakfast, not—”
But Joshua cut him off by leaning in again, pressing another kiss, this time to his lips. Seokmin melted instantly, his hand abandoning the spatula to settle at Joshua’s waist. Joshua chuckled into the kiss, looping his arms around Seokmin’s nape, pulling him down closer.
The kiss deepened quickly, their morning sluggishness dissolving into soft laughter and breathless murmurs. Seokmin lifted Joshua slightly by the waist, pressing him against the counter, and kissed him again—slower, sweeter, until Joshua was smiling too much to keep kissing properly.
“You’re horny,” Joshua whispered against his lips, though he looked more radiant than ever.
“You started it,” Seokmin grinned, pecking him once more.
And that was exactly the moment the dorm door swung open.
“YAH!” Seungkwan’s voice rang out, half scandalized and half delighted. “Are you two seriously making out in front of the eggs?”
Joshua immediately turned bright red, burying his face in Seokmin’s chest. Seokmin just laughed nervously, keeping one arm protectively around Joshua’s waist.
Behind Seungkwan, Mingyu and Jeonghan peeked in.
“Well, well,” Jeonghan smirked knowingly, crossing his arms. “No wonder Joshua’s been glowing this morning.”
Mingyu whistled dramatically. “Our hyung’s finally smiling again. About time.”
Joshua mumbled something into Seokmin’s t-shirt, still refusing to look up, while Seokmin pressed a reassuring kiss into his hair despite the teasing.
But then the teasing softened. Jeonghan’s expression shifted, his eyes warming as he quietly said, “It’s good to see you happy again, Shua.”
Joshua finally lifted his head, cheeks burning, but his smile was bright—genuine in a way it hadn’t been for weeks. Everyone noticed.
And while the eggs were forgotten, the kitchen filled with laughter, playful teasing, and the quiet understanding that Seokmin had given Joshua something none of them could: a reason to smile again.
-------
The stage lights were blinding, but this time Joshua didn’t shy away from them.
The music was still echoing in the stadium, but his laughter rang louder—clear, genuine, and unrestrained.
He had been sticking close to Seokmin all day, brushing shoulders, whispering things that made the corners of his lips curl upward every few seconds. Even during soundcheck, fans noticed the way Joshua’s hand would linger on Seokmin’s arm, or the way Seokmin would instinctively tilt his mic toward Joshua so their voices could blend just a little closer.
And tonight, on stage, it was undeniable.
Joshua was glowing again.
When Seokmin leaned in to sing his line, Joshua poked him playfully with his elbow, breaking into a grin so wide it scrunched his eyes. Seokmin laughed in return, their energy feeding off each other like sparks. The camera caught the moment, beaming it across the massive screens, and the crowd erupted—cheers, squeals, and a wave of relief.
“Shua looks so happy again!” fans shouted from the pit, their banners trembling with excitement.
“He’s smiling so much—our angel is back!”
Joshua didn’t hear every word, but he felt it. The love, the joy, the way the fans mirrored his laughter with their own. It wrapped around him warmly, like sunlight after weeks of rain.
At one point, the choreography required him to cross paths with Seokmin, and instead of passing smoothly, Joshua tugged at his sleeve, forcing a half-spin that wasn’t in the routine. The two of them nearly bumped foreheads, caught off guard, but instead of pulling away—Joshua laughed. A bright, belly-deep laugh that sent the fans screaming even louder.
Seokmin couldn’t resist; he joined in, his dimple flashing under the stage lights. He leaned close enough that only Joshua could hear and whispered with a grin, “Don’t make me fall harder on stage, hyung.”
Joshua’s heart skipped, but he only squeezed Seokmin’s wrist for a fleeting second before twirling away with the music, his laughter still echoing.
By the time the performance ended, he was breathless—not just from singing and dancing, but from feeling alive again.
As they stood side by side for the ending ment, Joshua reached for Seokmin’s hand without thinking. Their fingers laced together naturally, and when the crowd noticed, the stadium nearly shook from the cheers.
Joshua looked out at the sea of lightsticks, eyes shimmering. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. His smile said it all.
The fans had him back.
And beside him, so did Seokmin.
------
The dorm was finally quiet. The adrenaline from the concert had faded into a sweet kind of exhaustion, and most of the members were already asleep. But in Seokmin’s room, the night was far from over.
Joshua was curled up against him on the bed, half under the blanket and half sprawled across Seokmin’s chest like he had no plans of letting him breathe properly tonight. His cheek was pressed firmly against Seokmin’s, rubbing slowly like a cat marking its favorite spot.
“Hyung…” Seokmin chuckled softly, his voice low and tender. “Are you trying to fuse our faces together?”
Joshua only hummed, nuzzling even closer, lips brushing over Seokmin’s jaw in little affectionate presses. “Maybe I am,” he murmured with a smile. “You’re mine.”
His kisses were quick at first, almost teasing—across Seokmin’s jaw, his temple, the corner of his mouth. Each one left Seokmin melting deeper into the pillows. But then Joshua slowed, his lips finally finding Seokmin’s in a long, lingering kiss.
It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t desperate—it was steady, deep, like they had all the time in the world. Joshua kissed him once, twice, and then again, holding the back of Seokmin’s neck as if he didn’t want to let go. When he finally pulled away for air, he was smiling against Seokmin’s lips, eyes shining in the dim glow of the bedside lamp.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this clingy before,” Joshua whispered, resting his forehead against Seokmin’s.
“And I don’t think I’ve ever loved it this much before,” Seokmin replied, his voice barely above a breath.
Joshua laughed quietly, the sound warm and gentle. He shifted, tucking himself fully into Seokmin’s arms, burying his face into his neck. His fingers drew lazy shapes against Seokmin’s chest, grounding himself in the rhythm of his heartbeat.
“Don’t get used to it,” Joshua teased, even though his body betrayed him by refusing to move away.
“Oh, I’m already used to it,” Seokmin grinned, kissing his hair. “You’re not escaping.”
Another soft kiss followed—this time slower, deeper, lips moving in perfect sync, both of them smiling in the middle of it. Seokmin’s hand cradled Joshua’s jaw, and Joshua’s hand clung to Seokmin’s shirt like the world outside no longer mattered.
When they finally broke apart, Joshua’s cheek was back where it had started—pressed against Seokmin’s, rubbing lightly, a small smile still on his lips.
“Good,” Joshua whispered sleepily. “Because I don’t want to escape either.”
The night settled into silence again, the only sound their quiet breaths as Joshua drifted off in Seokmin’s arms—safe, loved, and utterly content.