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1. Haunted House Horrors
The haunted house breathed recycled fog into their faces, chemical-sweet and cloying. Hanbin’s stage composure – the same confidence that carried him through countless performances – crumbled the second the door sealed behind them. His stride faltered. His palms began to sweat.
Matthew walked beside him like he was strolling through a park on a spring day – his calm was almost insulting in contrast.
He casually linked their arms, “You’re gonna be fine, I’m here.”
“Easy for you to say when your soul’s still attached to your body. Mine’s about to leave.” Hanbin’s voice came out in urgent whispers.
The corridor ahead looked longer than it should. Lights stuttered overhead, turning Matthew’s profile into flashes. Something creaked behind them. Then ahead. Then nowhere he could pin down. His shoulders inched toward his ears.
Matthew hummed something under his breath – a ballad, maybe. How was he so calm? Maybe ghosts just didn’t like Canadians?
A figure lurched from nowhere – tattered fabric, contact lenses an inhuman colour, shrieking. Hanbin moved out of pure instinct, grabbing Matthew’s waist and shoving him forward like a human shield.
“You go first!” It came out octaves high and strangled.
Matthew raised his arm between them and the costumed actor, while his free hand found Hanbin’s. Squeezed once.
“Hey, you’re the leader,” he laughed. “Shouldn’t you be showing me the way?”
Hanbin’s grip on Matthew’s waist tightened. “My heart wasn’t built for this.” His voice shook.
“You remember these are real people, right? In costumes. Probably getting paid minimum wage.”
“Knowing that doesn’t make it less terrifying.”
Matthew stayed in front, unhurried. “You’re safe, hyung. If any ghost tries to eat you, I’ll fight them off.”
Hanbin’s heart rate eased. Not much, but some.
Then something scuttled behind them.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Now he yanked Matthew behind him. “Actually– no, I need to see what’s coming. Hyung should go first.”
Matthew let himself be maneuvered, protesting weakly. Hanbin grabbed his smaller hands and pressed them firmly over his ears, layering his own overtop. Their fingers tangled together as they shuffled forward like one organism through the dark. It must have looked ridiculous but Hanbin couldn’t bring himself to care.
They rounded a corner into sudden, ominous silence.
“Why do they keep making us do this? And why do we agree?” Hanbin muttered under his breath, “I’m going to die young in a haunted house. On camera. This is how I go.”
Something metallic clattered to the floor somewhere ahead. A bone-chilling screech erupted from hidden speakers.
He flinched hard enough to feel it in his spine. “Ah, shi– sorry!” he caught himself mid-curse.
“Hyung.” Matthew’s eyes crinkled, “On camera, remember?”
“Oh no,” Hanbin’s eyes sought out one of the lens, pleading. “PD-nim, please cut all of this out. I’m begging. Thank you.”
Matthew’s giggles followed them through the remaining corridors, eventually drawing sheepish ones from Hanbin himself as they stumbled their way toward the exit, hands still linked.
Production, of course, left every humiliating second in the final cut.
2. Confetti Cannon Chaos
The stage lights were hot enough to feel on his scalp. White-gold and unforgiving, as the crowd’s energy crashed over them in waves. Hanbin had performed on countless stages by now – music shows, award ceremonies, festivals. Faced thousands of screaming fans, navigated the chaos of the industry with shoulders squared and chin lifted.
He wasn’t a rookie anymore – he was poised and unflappable.
Except when it came to… confetti cannons.
The sudden pop was designed specifically to rattle his nervous system. He always knew it was coming. Still flinched every time, though. It had become such a reliable reaction that fans made compilation videos. Hanbin vs Confetti pt. 3 had too many views.
As the voting results faded into the roar of applause, Hanbin felt the familiar anticipation coiling in his stomach. Any second now.
The cannon fired. Hanbin recoiled with his whole body, no dignity.
His arms shot out as his knees almost gave way. He grabbed Matthew without thinking – just reached and held. He gripped the younger man’s arm hard enough leave temporary impressions in the skin beneath his outfit.
Matthew had clearly been expecting this, had planted his feet more firmly on the stage seconds before it happened. Took Hanbin into his side easily.
The noise narrowed. Everything except Matthew's hand across his back fell away – solid and grounding.
“Every single time, Sung Hanbin.” Hanbin muttered to himself as he watched confetti drift through the air around them, catching in their hair, clinging to damp skin.
“Hey. It's okay, hyung.”
Hanbin’s grip loosened, but he didn’t let go. His body seemed to know the difference – with the others, he could fake composure. With Matthew, he didn’t bother trying. It was something he couldn’t explain if he tried.
“Can’t they just– I don’t know… count down first?”
“Don’t worry, Seok Woohyun oppa will protect you from the scary paper.” Matthew balled his fists and started shadow-boxing the air, then stomped toward the confetti machines. “How dare you scare my hyung.”
“Yah, Mashu!” Hanbin swatted at him, laughing, and pulled him back before he could actually kick the equipment.
Matthew just bumped their shoulders together, grinning like he’d achieved something.
3. Monster Movie Marathon
The dorm’s living room had been transformed into a cave of shadows. Someone had pulled the curtains shut, turned off all the lights. The couch was barely visible and only the TV gave off light.
Tonight, Hanbin was going to conquer his fear of horror movies. Or die trying. Armed with nothing but sheer willpower and strategic couch cushion placement.
He was an adult. He’d survived live television. How bad could a horror movie marathon be?
Yet…
The opening credits and its ominous orchestral music weren’t even done and his heart rate was already climbing. He sat between Matthew and Gyuvin, fingers progressively digging deeper into the cushions.
This is fine. He swallowed. Just actors in makeup again. Special effects. Completely safe.
Fifteen minutes later, he’d stopped believing himself.
The first real scare had him gasping so sharply that Gyuvin glanced over. The second, and his hand found Matthew’s arm again, who didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he shifted slightly closer.
By the third, Hanbin had graduated to using Matthew’s arm as a shield, peeking around it cautiously.
“You okay?” Matthew asked between scenes.
“Fine.” Hanbin grit his teeth. “Totally fine. Not dying.”
The next scare had half the room screaming. Hanbin threw himself at Matthew with both arms and one leg, nearly toppling them both over in his desperation to hide.
Matthew snorted as Hanbin’s face remained pressed against his chest, where it had somehow ended up. “You’re doing really fine.”
Hanbin’s muffled groan was the only response.
“You sure you want to keep watching, hyung?”
“No.” He spoke into Matthew’s shirt. “But I started it. So I’m finishing it.”
“This is adorable, by the way.”
“Just...” Hanbin pulled back, eyes looking at anywhere else, “...hold my hand.”
Matthew’s chuckle filled the brief silence, but his hand slid down to intertwine their fingers. His thumb moved across Hanbin’s knuckles, a soothing rhythm that somehow made the monsters on screen seem less threatening.
By the end of the marathon, Hanbin had lost track of how many times he’d grabbed Matthew. His throat hurt from swallowing screams, his muscles ached from hours of tension.
“You survived,” Matthew said as the final credits rolled. “Your first horror marathon.”
“Barely. And this will be my last.” Hanbin finally released Matthew’s hand. His fingers tingled as blood flowed back to the tips. “Pretty sure I watched your shirt more than the actual screen.”
“Omo, uri Hanbin hyung did so well.” Matthew cooed with exaggerated aegyo, reaching for his cheek.
Hanbin tried to stretch out of range, “Hey, I’m your hyung. Show some respect.”
Matthew made a victorious sound – “Meep!” – as his fingers found their mark. “Seriously though, I’m kinda surprised you managed to stay off my lap.”
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, obviously.”
“Oh, so you were being considerate? How sweet.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Or I'm irresistible.”
“Okay, enough.” Hanbin rolled his eyes and shoved Matthew’s shoulder, feeling heat climb his neck.
Maybe horror movies weren’t completely unbearable after all.
4. Spider Standoff
2:05 AM. Hanbin’s socked feet on cold kitchen tile. His throat dry, his body restless, craving something sweet without knowing what. And that's when he saw it.
A spider.
This thing had legs – long ones, moving with what Hanbin could only describe as malice. Its shadow stretched across the tile, distorted in the dim light, making it appear even larger than it already was.
Hanbin froze. Every rational thought in his head – it’s just a spider, it’s more afraid of you than you are of it – was simply drowned out.
He couldn’t move a muscle. Couldn’t do anything except stare at this eight-legged abomination that had clearly decided to ruin his entire night.
That’s when Matthew shuffled in, rubbing at his eyes, half-asleep in his Thewnini pyjamas.
“Hyung, what are you–” Matthew stopped. His gaze followed Hanbin’s stare. “Ahh, really? It’s just a spider.”
“Just a spider?” Hanbin’s voice pitched up. “That thing’s practically the size of a small dog.”
Matthew shook his head with fond exasperation, already reaching for a kitchen towel. “Must be some questionably tiny dogs you know.”
“Please just make it go away.”
“This spider's harmless.”
“You’re not a spider. You don’t understand how they think.” Hanbin mock-gagged. “I can’t– if it touches me, I might actually die. Oh my god, it looks hideous.”
“You’re literally taller than me.”
“Height doesn’t matter when there’s a spider! What if it jumps at me? What if it has babies? What if–”
“Okay, okay. Evil bug, bad bug.”
Hanbin grabbed the collar of Matthew’s shirt and yanked him toward it. If he was going to underestimate the spite of a spider, then he could be the one in the line of fire.
“Seriously, hyung?”
Hanbin pressed against Matthew’s back, gripping his shoulders, peering around him. “You’re my hero. Heroes go first.”
“You know,” Matthew said, crouching down with the towel, “I held a real spider during that music video shoot last month. The staff said it’d be CGI. Then – surprise.” He glanced back with a wry smile. “So yeah, I’d say I’m qualified for this.”
“I’m personally horrified that you had to go through that,” Hanbin shuddered, the thought making his skin crawl. “But also, so grateful right now.”
In a quick, fluid motion, Matthew caught the spider on the first try.
“There.” He stood, held the kitchen towel away from his body and dropped it out the window, then shut it firmly.
Just like that. Done. Problem solved.
“Oh, thank all the gods.” Hanbin sagged against him and finally remembered to breathe, hands still fisted in his shirt.
“And one of them’s called Matthew, you’re welcome.” Matthew turned to face him – a small movement, but it brought them face-to-face in the compact kitchen. “You okay now?”
Hanbin looked down at him, suddenly aware of how close they were.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice now quieter. “What would hyung do without you?”
“I think you’d survive just fine.”
“Maybe.” Hanbin released his shirt. “But I’d much rather have you around.”
Matthew’s smile gentled. “Good thing I’m not going anywhere then.”
5. Mirror Motions
The waiting room was loud. Voices overlapped, makeup brushes tapped against counters, hairspray hissed in clouds that tickled his throat.
Hanbin felt separate from all of it. The mirror’s lighting cast shadows across his face, highlighting every imperfection his anxious mind wanted to fixate on.
He ran his fingers through his hair for the dozenth time. The reflection staring back looked tired – uncertainty pooling in the shadows beneath his eyes, nothing like the confident leader everyone expected.
What if he messed up tonight? What if his voice cracked? Or his dancing faltered? Everyone would see–
Each question bred three more.
The room pressed in on him even as the noise expanded outward. Too many people, too much going on, yet somehow completely empty of anything.
Then Matthew appeared beside him, adjusted his collar like this was easy. Like he wasn’t haunted by the same things too. Maybe not today, at least.
Before he could stop himself, Hanbin’s hand shot out and wrapped around Matthew’s wrist. Not hard, but with enough urgency to make him stop and look up. Complete attention.
“Matthew...” His voice came out thin, stripped. “Can we just... stay here for a minute? I don’t want to go out there yet.”
Matthew’s expression didn’t change – no surprise, no question about why.
“Of course, hyung. We’ve got time.”
“I don’t look like I...” Hanbin started, then stopped, hating how exposed he sounded, the words hanging incomplete.
Matthew moved behind him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders.
“You look exactly like you should. You look like Sung Hanbin.”
He let himself lean back into Matthew’s chest then. Warm. There.
“Sometimes I feel like I’m pretending to be someone I’m not.” His eyes closed. “Like everyone’s going to figure out that I don’t actually know what I’m doing.”
“Hyung, you know what I see when I look at you?” Matthew asked, his thumbs pressing circles into Hanbin’s shoulders, finding where everything had gone tight and stubborn. “I see someone who cares so much about doing right by everyone that he forgets to be kind to himself. You’re… enough.”
Hanbin opened his eyes and met Matthew’s gaze in the mirror. “You don’t have to say that.”
“Why? It's the truth.”
“You make me feel like I can do anything.”
“If you can, it’s because you’re already everything you think you need to become. You just need to trust yourself the way I trust you.”
Hanbin bit the edge of his lip, paused. Then he straightened up, drawing strength from the way Matthew believed in him so completely. “Thanks Seokmae-ah.”
“Always, hyung. You know that.” Matthew stepped back. “Ready?”
Hanbin nodded, feeling more like himself again. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”
As they headed toward the stage, Hanbin held onto what Matthew had given him – the steadiness, the certainty. Knowing that whatever happened, they’d be together out there.
+1. Hanbin Protection Squad of 1
The dorm had gone silent the way it only did after midnight – empty, but not restful. Most of the members had retreated to their rooms hours ago, leaving behind the soft sounds of sleep breathing through thin walls.
But in the living room, Matthew sat hunched on the couch, knees drawn up, face lit from below by his phone. Hanbin was halfway to the kitchen for water when he spotted him.
He didn’t need to see the screen to know what Matthew was reading. The internet had gotten particularly vicious this week. Threats disguised as opinions. Accusations of things that didn’t matter because they were lies. And Matthew had the unfortunate habit of seeking out the very comments that would hurt him most.
Without a word, Hanbin crossed the room and plucked the phone directly from Matthew’s hands.
Matthew’s head snapped up. “Hyung, you scared me.”
Hanbin didn’t apologize. He simply pressed the power button and sat down beside Matthew, holding the device firmly out of reach. The cushions dipped beneath his weight, bringing them closer together in the darkness.
“No more,” he said in a tone that didn’t leave room for negotiation.
Matthew frowned, making a half-hearted grab for the phone. “Give it back.” The words lacked conviction.
“I’ll think about it.”
“You can’t just take my phone.”
“Yes, I can. Favourite hyung privileges.”
Hanbin tried to keep it light, but his grip on the phone remained firm. He wasn’t joking – not when Matthew looked like he was trying to smile through it. And failing.
“What if my favourite is actually Jiwoon hyung?” Matthew challenged, but there was no real fight in it, just a token resistance.
Hanbin raised an eyebrow. “Is he?”
Matthew groaned and slumped back into the cushions. He crossed his arms and mumbled, “I'll have you know he's a very close second.”
The quiet between them wasn’t comfortable, Matthew’s whole body radiating restless energy.
“You always say they’re just words, Matthew-yah. And then you read them anyway.”
Matthew said nothing.
Hanbin studied him for a moment, then unlocked the phone. Matthew didn’t try to stop him. Hanbin knew his passcode – he knew everything.
The screen filled with familiar venom. The usual litany of hate, people hiding behind anonymity to hurt someone they’d never met. His jaw tightened as he scrolled – comment after comment designed to chip away at everything Matthew was.
He turned the screen off and set it face-down on the coffee table.
“I’m okay. Really.” Matthew tried for a laugh. “It’s not like it’s my first time dealing with this stuff.”
But Hanbin could see straight through it – the wound hiding behind forced casualness, the way Matthew wouldn’t stay still.
“But it still hurts, doesn’t it?”
Silence.
Finally, Matthew sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. “A little.”
“It’s easy to tear someone down when you think they won’t see it.”
Matthew let out a sound that might have been laughter if it weren’t so bitter. “Joke’s on them. I see everything.”
“That’s not good.”
“I know.”
Hanbin shifted closer until their knees touched. He reached over to ruffle Matthew’s hair, gently. “You don’t have to prove anything to people who’ve already decided to hate you.”
Matthew looked up at him, eyes bright with unshed tears in the dim moonlight.
Hanbin held that gaze steadily, willing Matthew to believe him. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Matthew whispered, finally willing to let someone else carry the weight for a while.
Hanbin nodded. That was enough for now.
He reached for the remote, flicking through channels until he found something appropriately ridiculous – a game show from the early 2000s with sparkly outfits and overenthusiastic hosts.
“What are you doing?” Matthew asked, though he was already sinking deeper into the couch.
“Distracting you."
Matthew watched the screen for a moment, the absurd antics of the contestants, then made a face. “I think this might actually be worse.” But there was a hint of amusement in his voice now, threading through the sadness.
“Good,” Hanbin smirked.
Despite everything, Matthew huffed out a small laugh. Then he leaned against Hanbin’s shoulder, tentative at first, like he was still deciding if he wanted to take up this space. Hanbin didn’t move, just let Matthew settle against him until the tension finally bled out.
He’d keep doing this, as many times as it took – stepping between Matthew and the noise. Holding the line. Just like Matthew always did for him without being asked.
Matthew fell asleep against his shoulder eventually. Hanbin gently eased himself free and tucked a blanket around him before returning to his own bed, phone in hand. The manager had already given the green light for a post – “as long as it’s not too obvious.”
Hanbin would… try his best to be subtle.
But he needed people to see what he saw when he looked at Matthew.
The first photo was a mirror selfie from rehearsal, both of them laughing at something off-camera. The second showed two pairs of stage shoes lined up side by side – his and Matthew’s, worn and scuffed from countless hours of practice.
The third captured Matthew mid-laugh, mid-spin, his eyes crinkled with the kind of joy that came from something stupid and perfect. Hanbin had taken it without thinking, maybe knowing even then that he’d need it someday.
The fourth was from dinner last week – Matthew glaring indignantly at the camera, cheeks full of food, chopsticks frozen mid-bite.
The last was a photo of them together again: Hanbin’s arm slung over Matthew’s shoulders as he leaned in, his mouth open in a playful attempt to bite Matthew’s ear. While Matthew beamed so hard his eyes disappeared into lines.
Hanbin stared at the caption box for a long moment, then typed:
🐹⚔️🦊
No explanation. Anyone who knew them would understand exactly what he was saying.
This was one of the ways he’d protect Matthew – by showing the world what he meant to him. By making it impossible to ignore.
He pressed post and set the phone aside before he could second-guess himself.
The comments would come. Some would be cruel. Some would be kind. He didn’t know if it would help. Probably wouldn’t solve anything.
But in the morning, Matthew would see it.
And maybe he’d remember. That Hanbin was there too, had always been there, would keep being there.
That would have to be enough.