Chapter Text
The meeting room at SYNC was unusually lively.
Mood boards were plastered across the glass walls, fabric samples draped over chairs, tablets lighting up with concept drafts and choreography notes. The air buzzed with creative energy—the kind that only came when MARS were planning a comeback.
Dylan sat at the head of the table beside Jun, posture relaxed but eyes sharp as he flipped through the presentation on the screen. Across from them were the staff they’d pulled in for this era: Minnie, the stylist, with her sketchbook already half-filled; Note, the creative director, arms crossed thoughtfully; and Tu, the MV director, leaning back with an excited grin.
“So,” Minnie began brightly, tapping her pen against her sketchbook, “for the title track concept—we’re going bold and mature.”
She clicked her tablet, and the next slide popped up.
Dylan froze.
On the screen were mock-up photos of outfits: crop tank tops, cut high enough to show stomach, paired with ripped, low-rise baggy jeans. Chains. Harness details. Skin.
A lot of skin.
Dylan blinked once. Then twice.
“No,” he said flatly.
The room went quiet.
Nano, who had been leaning forward eagerly, whipped his head around. “No as in… no concerns? Or no as in—”
“No as in absolutely not,” Dylan clarified, sitting straighter. “This doesn’t match the concept we discussed.”
Minnie hesitated. “It’s still rebellious, just more—”
“—revealing,” Dylan cut in, voice calm but firm. “Too revealing. It feels like shock value for the sake of it.”
Jun glanced at the screen, then at Dylan. He hesitated for half a second before speaking. “I don’t think it’s that bad.”
Dylan turned to him slowly. “Jun.”
Jun raised his hands slightly. “Hear me out. It’s modern. Trend-driven. And budget-wise, it’s actually—”
“Jun,” Dylan repeated, sharper this time. “The concept was mature, not exposed.”
Nano leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But p', think about the fans—”
Dylan shot him a look. “Nano.”
Nano zipped his lips theatrically.
Jun sighed softly, fingers tapping against the table. “Dylan, we can adjust it. It doesn’t have to be extreme. But scrapping it completely feels premature.”
Dylan’s jaw tightened. “I’m not comfortable with it.”
The tension crept in quietly—like fog rolling across the floor.
Note glanced between them, sensing it immediately. “We can revisit this later—”
“I just think you’re being a bit rigid,” Jun said, not realizing how his tone landed. “We need flexibility.”
Dylan’s eyes flicked back to him. “Rigid?”
Jun paused.
Pepper, sitting a little further down the table, stiffened subtly. Thame’s pen stopped mid-note.
Minnie closed her sketchbook a little too carefully. Note shifted in his seat. Tu pretended to scroll on his phone, though his eyes kept flicking up.
“I’m advocating for the group,” Dylan continued, voice controlled but edged. “For what fits MARS. For what feels right.”
“And I’m saying it still can,” Jun replied, brows knitting. “We can make it work.”
The silence after that was heavy.
Nano looked between them, suddenly very interested in the pattern on the table.
Thame cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said calmly, stepping in before the tension could sharpen further. “Let’s pause here.”
Everyone looked at him.
“We’ll continue this discussion in the next meeting,” Thame said decisively. “We’re running out of time anyway.”
Minnie let out a small breath of relief. “Yeah, that’s probably best.”
As staff began packing up, Note leaned toward Minnie and whispered, “Do you think Jun and Dylan are about to fight?”
Minnie shook her head immediately, equally quiet. “Nah. They always look like this before they’re fine again.”
Jun and Dylan didn’t look at each other as the staff filed out.
When the door finally closed and the room was left with only MARS—Jun, Dylan, Thame, Pepper, and Nano—the silence stretched for exactly three seconds.
Then Jun turned to Dylan.
Immediately.
“Dylaaaan,” Jun whined, abandoning all professional composure as he leaned closer. “Come on.”
Dylan crossed his arms. “No.”
Jun scooted his chair closer. “It’s budget-friendly.”
Dylan stared at him.
“Jun.”
“It saves money,” Jun pressed, voice softer now. “We don’t have to custom-make a whole new wardrobe.”
“That doesn’t justify it,” Dylan shot back. “It’s still too revealing.”
Nano, who had been watching this like a tennis match, suddenly perked up. “Ohhh.”
Pepper sighed quietly. “Nano—”
Nano grinned wickedly. “You’re just jealous.”
Dylan choked. “What?”
Nano pointed between them. “Jealous. Because Jun will be wearing a crop top.”
Jun’s eyebrow lifted slowly.
Dylan’s ears turned red instantly. “That’s not—”
Jun leaned back, eyes narrowing with sudden interest. “Is it?”
“No,” Dylan said too quickly. “That’s not what this is about.”
Jun tilted his head. “So you wouldn’t mind if I wore it?”
Dylan looked away. “That’s not the point.”
Jun’s lips twitched.
Oh.
Oh, this was cute.
Jun felt it—the realization hitting him all at once. Dylan wasn’t just being strict as a creative director.
He was jealous.
The thought made warmth bloom in Jun’s chest, followed immediately by an overwhelming urge to squeeze.
“Dylan,” Jun said softly.
Dylan glanced back at him warily.
Jun smiled—wide, fond, and dangerously affectionate. “You’re jealous.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
“I’m literally not.”
Jun stood up suddenly, walking over until he was right in front of Dylan. “You don’t like the idea of other people seeing me like that.”
Dylan sputtered. “This is about professionalism!”
Jun leaned down slightly, grinning. “You care.”
Dylan’s face was fully red now. “Jun, stop.”
Nano clutched his chest dramatically. “Oh my god. He cares.”
Pepper rolled her eyes. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
Jun reached out, gently flicking Dylan’s forehead. “You’re adorable.”
Dylan scowled, sulking immediately. “I’m leaving.”
He stood up abruptly, grabbing his tablet.
“Nano,” Dylan muttered, heading for the door. “Come on.”
Nano popped up instantly. “Yes, boss.”
As Dylan walked out, shoulders stiff, Nano shot Jun a smug grin. “Try not to wear crop tops without permission, okay?”
The door shut behind them.
The room fell quiet again.
His mind ran wild.
He’s jealous. My Dylan… jealous of me wearing a crop top. Oh God. I—can I even handle how cute he is right now?
Jun’s lips twitched, half a smile, half a smirk. He couldn’t stop thinking about the pink creeping over Dylan’s ears, the way his eyes darted away, and the stiff line of his shoulders as he grabbed his tablet and marched out.
Pepper looked at Jun. “You deserved that.”
Jun exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck—but he was smiling.
Thame chuckled softly. “You’re lucky he sulks instead of actually staying mad.”
Jun glanced toward the door Dylan had exited through, fondness settling deep in his chest.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know.”
Dylan sulking like that—it wasn’t just cute. It was… devastatingly endearing. The way his brows furrowed, the tiny pout of his lips, the slight huff he tried so hard to disguise with professionalism—it made Jun’s fingers itch to reach out, to touch, to steady. He wanted to pinch his cheeks, squeeze his shoulders, pull him close and make sure Dylan felt seen, felt safe, and felt… adored.
And despite the tension, despite the disagreement—
Jun couldn’t stop thinking about how fiercely Dylan cared.
Even when he was sulking.
Earth leaned back in his chair comfortably, one ankle crossed over the other, sleeves rolled up like he’d walked straight out of a lifestyle magazine. He had that kind of presence—warm, easy, effortlessly friendly. Someone who didn’t feel like a brand representative so much as an older friend who somehow always had good advice and better timing.
Jun, Pepper, and Thame had met him a few times before. Enough that the formality had worn off.
“Alright,” Earth said cheerfully, clapping his hands together once. “That wraps up the campaign timeline. Honestly? Working with SYNC is always a pleasure.”
Pepper smiled, polite but genuine. “Likewise. You’ve been great to work with.”
Thame nodded. “Yeah. Thank you for trusting us.”
Earth waved it off. “Please. With what you’ve built? I’d be crazy not to.”
Jun chuckled quietly, shoulders relaxing as the tension of work mode eased off.
They lingered a bit after the official discussion ended, conversation drifting naturally—music, schedules, random industry gossip. Earth had that effect on people. He made staying feel easy.
Then, casually, like he was mentioning the weather, Earth said, “Oh—before I forget. You guys should come to my wedding.”
The room froze.
Pepper blinked. “Your what?”
Earth grinned. “Wedding.”
Thame's eyes widened. “Wait—what?”
Jun straightened slightly. “You’re getting married?”
“Yep,” Earth said happily. “In a few months.”
Pepper leaned forward immediately. “Since when do you have a girlfriend? I swear you never mentioned one.”
Earth laughed. “I didn’t.”
Pepper frowned. “Then—?”
“We skipped that part,” Earth said easily. “No dating. No long dramatic romance arc. We just… knew. So we decided to get married.”
The silence that followed was thick with disbelief.
Thame was the first to recover. “That’s—bold.”
Jun let out a soft laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
Pepper squinted at Earth. “You’re serious.”
“Completely,” Earth replied. “Sometimes when you know, you know.”
That sentence landed heavier than it should have.
Jun felt it settle somewhere deep in his chest.
Earth continued, oblivious. “We met through work, actually. Got close fast. No games. No pretending. Just honesty. After a while, dating felt unnecessary.”
Pepper crossed her arms. “You’re insane.”
Earth laughed. “Probably.”
Jun smiled politely, nodded along—but his mind had already wandered somewhere dangerous.
When you know, you know.
Jun thought of Dylan.
Of mornings tangled together, of quiet nights when Dylan would hum absentmindedly while working, of the way Dylan reached for him instinctively when anxious, like Jun was home.
He thought of the way Dylan argued fiercely about concepts he cared about. The way he sulked. The way he laughed with his whole body. The way he loved.
Jun swallowed.
Marrying Dylan.
The idea struck him suddenly, vividly—and didn’t feel strange at all.
It felt… tempting.
Too tempting.
Jun forced his attention back to the room just as Pepper said, “That’s still wild. You didn’t even date.”
Earth shrugged. “Dating is just a label. Commitment and trust are the real thing.”
“That’s… congratulations,” Jun said, voice steady despite everything. “Really.”
Earth smiled warmly. “Thanks. And seriously—invite stands. I’d love to have you all there.”
Thame smiled back. “We’d be honored.”
Pepper nodded. “Yeah. Congrats.”
The meeting wrapped up soon after, Earth leaving with easy waves and promises to send details.
When the door closed, Pepper leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “That was unexpected.”
Thame nodded slowly. “Skipping dating entirely is… brave.”
Jun didn’t say anything.
He was still thinking.
Pepper glanced at Jun, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why do I feel like that hit closer to home for you than it should have?”
Jun coughed. “You’re imagining things.”
Pepper hummed, unconvinced, but let it go.