Chapter Text
Bang Chan’s apartment was serene, typical of late nights—his PC tower softly humming, distant city sounds filtering through cracked windows, and the familiar loop of lo-fi music playing as he began his streams. It was a comforting ritual that eased the weight of the world.
“Evening, Den,” he greeted, his voice warm yet slightly weary. “We’re keeping it chill tonight. Just a few games and some chatting.”
The chat exploded with overlapping greetings. Chan’s eyes instinctively scanned, picking out familiar usernames like stars in the night sky.
And there it was.
JinnieSketches: Hi Chan! Long day but happy to be here.
Chan smiled, almost instinctively. Jinnie had been a constant presence—quiet, kind, and thoughtful—making the chat feel safe.
He quickly typed a response but switched to voice instead. “Glad you’re here, Jinnie. Hope today wasn’t too rough.”
A simple statement, but the chat took notice. They always did.
For Hyunjin, Chan’s streams had woven into his life like comforting background music. He watched while cooking, studying, or sketching late into the night. But tonight, he had his sketchbook open, pencil behind his ear, decompressing after a long day at his art program. Chan’s voice was always grounding.
When Chan read his message aloud, Hyunjin paused mid-sketch, pencil suspended. Hearing his username from Chan startled him, causing a blush.
He shook his head. Just a stream. Get a grip. Yet, he found himself listening more intently.
An hour in, Chan stretched, cracking his neck. “You know, I haven’t done a viewer game in a while…”
The chat erupted—excitement, requests, chaos. Chan chuckled, rubbing his forehead. “Okay, okay—maybe just a couple rounds. Nothing too intense. Just for fun.”
Hyunjin felt a nervous flutter. He had never played with Chan, preferring to support from the sidelines. But seeing the chat flood with join requests, he typed without much thought:
JinnieSketches: If you still need players, I can hop in… but only if you’re okay with someone terrible at aiming
Immediately, regret washed over him. He wasn’t one to draw attention. But it was too late now.
Chan’s gaze landed on the message on his second monitor, and he smiled—a soft, fond smile.
“Jinnie,” he said, his voice warm and teasing, “you’ve been here supporting every stream for months. Of course you can join. Get in here.”
Hyunjin blinked at the screen. Did Chan sound… pleased?
A nervous laugh escaped him as he accepted the invite. When the request to join voice chat appeared, he hesitated.
But Chan added gently, “Only if you want to, yeah? No pressure.”
That made a difference. So, Hyunjin clicked “Join Voice.”
An awkward silence filled the call as both waited for the other to speak.
“…Hi,” Hyunjin finally said, his voice softer than intended.
Chan blinked, surprised by the softness. “Oh. Hey. It’s nice to finally hear your voice.”
“Sorry,” Hyunjin blurted, flustered. “I’m not used to… this.”
“You’re totally fine,” Chan reassured him, gentle and calming.
“We’ll take it slow.”
Slow. Hyunjin liked that.
Their first match wasn’t perfect, but it felt comfortable. Hyunjin played cautiously, not wanting to disappoint. Chan noticed immediately.
“You don’t have to apologize for missing shots,” he murmured after Hyunjin whispered a soft “sorry.” “This is supposed to be fun. Just breathe with me, yeah?”
Hyunjin nodded. “Okay.”
The chat flooded with emotional emojis. As the match progressed, a subtle rhythm developed—Chan adapted to Hyunjin’s pace, and Hyunjin relaxed into Chan’s steadiness.
It wasn’t flashy or chaotic. It just… fit.
Mid-match, Chan glanced at the chat and chuckled. “Jinnie, everyone’s obsessed with you,” he teased.
Hyunjin gasped. “Why?”
“It’s just… me.”
Chan leaned back, smiling at nothing. “I think ‘just you’ might be why.”
Hyunjin froze, warmth spreading beneath his skin. Chan didn’t push, allowing the silence to linger as they continued the match.
That was when Hyunjin felt himself fall a little deeper—not into romance, but into trust.
After a few matches, Chan cleared his throat. “Alright, Den. I think that’s it for tonight. But before I go…”
His smile softened. “Thanks for making the stream cozy. Especially you, Jinnie.”
Hyunjin’s heart raced. Chan ended the stream, but the voice chat remained open. For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Chan quietly asked, “If you’re not too tired… do you want to play one more?”
Hyunjin didn’t hesitate. “…Yeah,” he whispered. “I’d like that.”
And they queued again—no chat, no audience, no pressure. Just two people slowly discovering the shape of each other’s presence.