Chapter Text
The dorm was quiet in the way that only Stray Kids’ dorm could be quiet: a fragile, temporary peace that felt like it was holding its breath. Seungmin was curled up on the sofa, legs tucked under him, hoodie slipping off one shoulder as he scrolled lazily through his phone. His hair was still damp from a shower, fluffy and soft, and he looked… comfortable. Too comfortable.
On the opposite end of the sofa, Chan sat with his laptop open, headphones around his neck. He was technically “working,” but the track had been paused for the last fifteen minutes. Instead, he kept sneaking glances at Seungmin — the way his eyes narrowed when he concentrated, the way his lips twitched when he saw something funny, the way his hoodie kept sliding down like it had a personal vendetta.
Chan didn’t mind the hoodie slipping. In fact, he had been the one responsible for the mark on Seungmin’s collarbone that the hoodie was currently failing to hide. He’d been very proud of it last night. He was slightly less proud now that it was in full view.
But Seungmin didn’t seem to notice. He was too absorbed in whatever video he was watching, humming under his breath.
Chan smiled to himself. Peaceful. Soft. Domestic.
Which meant it was doomed.
The front door slammed open with the force of a natural disaster.
“WE’RE HOME—” Han’s voice cut off mid‑yell.
Hyunjin froze in the doorway, eyes widening.
Felix dropped the bag of snacks he was holding. Chips scattered across the floor like confetti.
All three stared at Seungmin.
More specifically, at the very obvious, very purple hickey on his collarbone.
Seungmin blinked at them. “What.”
Han pointed like he was accusing a criminal. “WHAT IS THAT.”
Hyunjin gasped so dramatically he could’ve been auditioning for a historical drama. “KIM SEUNGMIN HAS BEEN DEFILED.”
Felix clasped his hands together, eyes sparkling. “Oh my gosh… our baby grew up.”
Seungmin’s face went blank. “No. No, no, no—”
He yanked his hoodie up, but it was too late. The damage was done.
Chan bit the inside of his cheek so hard he nearly drew blood. He kept his eyes glued to his laptop, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Han stormed forward. “Explain yourself.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” Seungmin said, voice flat.
Hyunjin crouched down like a detective examining evidence. “That is not a mosquito bite.”
Felix nodded solemnly. “That is not a bruise.”
Han leaned in. “That is a—”
“Don’t say it,” Seungmin warned.
“A LOVE MARK,” Felix finished proudly.
Chan choked on air.
Seungmin glared at him. “Are you okay?”
Chan waved him off, coughing into his sleeve. “Fine. Totally fine.”
He was not fine. He was seconds away from bursting into hysterics.
Hyunjin crossed his arms. “Who are they.”
Seungmin blinked. “Who is who?”
“Your partner,” Hyunjin said, voice full of righteous authority. “Your lover. Your significant other. We’re not leaving until you talk.”
Felix pulled out his phone like he was about to take notes. “Start from the top.”
Han flopped onto the coffee table dramatically. “Gender.”
Seungmin stared at them. “Why does that matter.”
“Because we need to narrow down suspects,” Felix said, typing furiously.
Seungmin sighed. “Fine. He’s a guy.”
Three gasps. Three sets of eyes widened. Three brains began spinning like broken fans.
“Age,” Hyunjin demanded.
“Older,” Seungmin muttered.
“HOW MUCH OLDER?” Han yelled, as if Seungmin had confessed to dating someone’s grandfather.
“Not that much,” Seungmin snapped. “Just… older.”
Felix typed faster. “Okay, so: male, older, bold enough to leave a hickey there—”
“Felix,” Seungmin warned.
“—and is also an idol?” Hyunjin asked.
Seungmin hesitated.
Which was a mistake.
Han gasped again. “OH MY GOD HE IS.”
Chan’s shoulders shook harder. He pretended to adjust his headphones to hide the grin spreading across his face.
Felix stood up suddenly. “We need to find him.”
Hyunjin nodded. “We need to interrogate every male idol around us.”
Han grabbed his coat. “Operation: Find Seungmin’s Mystery Man is a go.”
Seungmin stared at them, horrified. “You’re not serious.”
But they were already halfway out the door.
“WE’LL FIND HIM!” Han shouted as the door slammed shut.
Silence.
Chan lasted three seconds.
Then he absolutely lost it.
He slid down the sofa, laughing so hard he had to cover his face. “They’re going to interrogate half the company.”
Seungmin groaned and buried his face in a pillow. “This is your fault.”
Chan scooted closer, still laughing. “You didn’t complain last night.”
“Shut up,” Seungmin mumbled, cheeks burning.
Chan reached out and gently tugged the pillow away. “Hey.”
Seungmin peeked at him, eyes still flustered.
Chan softened immediately.
The chaos was gone. The dorm was quiet again. And now, with no audience, Chan let the fondness show openly.
He brushed Seungmin’s hair back from his forehead. “You okay?”
“No,” Seungmin said flatly. “They’re going to interrogate managers. And staff. And probably the security guards.”
Chan laughed again, but softer this time. “They’ll give up eventually.”
“No they won’t,” Seungmin said, sinking deeper into the sofa. “They’re like hungry cats. They won’t give up until they’ve been fed.”
Chan hummed thoughtfully. “Well… maybe we should tell them.”
Seungmin’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not.”
Chan blinked. “Why not?”
“Because,” Seungmin said, crossing his arms, “they’ll never let us live it down. Ever. Han will make a PowerPoint. Felix will cry. Hyunjin will start a rumor that I’m dating a Jackson from got7.”
Chan snorted. “Okay, fair.”
Seungmin sighed and leaned against him, head resting on Chan’s shoulder. “I hate you. This is all your fault”
Chan smiled, wrapping an arm around him. “No you don’t.”
Seungmin didn’t argue.
They sat like that for a moment — warm, quiet, soft. Chan’s thumb traced slow circles on Seungmin’s arm. Seungmin’s breathing evened out, tension melting away.
“Do you want me to make them stop?” Chan asked gently.
Seungmin shook his head. “No. Let them suffer.”
Chan laughed, low and fond. “You’re evil.”
“I learned from the best,” Seungmin said, nudging him.
Chan pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You know… you could’ve just worn a turtleneck.”
Seungmin groaned. “I didn’t think they’d come home this early.”
Chan smirked. “You also didn’t think I’d leave a mark that big.”
Seungmin shoved him weakly. “Stop talking.”
Chan chuckled and pulled him closer. “Fine, fine.”
They fell into a comfortable silence. Seungmin curled into Chan’s side, hoodie finally cooperating and staying in place. Chan
rested his chin on Seungmin’s head, breathing in the faint scent of Seungmin’s shampoo.
Domestic. Soft. Quiet.
The kind of moment Chan wished he could freeze.
After a while, Seungmin spoke again, voice muffled. “They’re really going to interrogate everyone, aren’t they.”
“Probably,” Chan said.
Seungmin sighed. “We’re terrible at being subtle.”
Chan laughed softly. “We really are.”
Seungmin shifted, looking up at him. “You owe me.”
Chan raised an eyebrow. “For what.”
“For the emotional trauma I’m about to experience when they come back.”
Chan grinned. “I’ll make you dinner.”
Seungmin considered. “And dessert.”
“Done.”
“And you’re doing the dishes.”
Chan groaned. “Fine.”
Seungmin smirked triumphantly and snuggled back into him. “Good.”
Chan kissed his forehead again. “You’re lucky I love you.”
Seungmin froze.
Chan blinked.
Seungmin blinked.
Chan’s eyes widened. “I— I mean— I didn’t—”
Seungmin’s face turned bright red. “You love me?”
Chan opened and closed his mouth like a malfunctioning goldfish. “I— yes? I mean— obviously? I thought— I assumed—”
Seungmin stared at him for a long moment.
Then he smiled.
Soft. Small. Real.
“I love you too,” he said quietly.
Chan melted.
Completely.
He pulled Seungmin into a tight hug, burying his face in his hair. “You’re going to kill me.”
Seungmin laughed softly. “You started it.”
Chan held him close, heart full and warm. “I’m glad I did.”