Work Text:
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The temperature in Seoul tonight dropped to negative ten degree Celsius. It was crazy, Hyunjoon thought. No matter how many layers you wear, it was freezing. Even Sanghyuk had to stop his stream because the heater in his broadcast room wasn’t working.
After making his way back into the dorm, Hyunjoon collapsed onto his bed. He lay sprawled on his side while the blue glow of his phone screen painted shadows on the ceiling. He scrolled through Naver with detachment. Well, he’d already seen everything the internet had to offer. His thumb flicked past news headlines, memes, and the inevitable stream of LoL highlights. None of it really registered, honestly.
Today’s solo queue session replayed in the back of his mind. Two wins, three losses. The numbers were not a disaster, but it was still frustrating. After getting the POM on their last LCK match, he was motivated to grind but it seemed like every person in Korea was doing the same. Climbing from Master to Challenger was brutal. Sometimes it felt like luck was the only thing he didn’t have.
He snorted softly, remembering how Minseok had been complaining about the MMR system as if the universe itself was conspiring against him. Actually, against all of them. How was it possible that, with all these games, they still hadn’t queued up? Well, Suhwan was an exception. That kid already reached Grandmaster.
And Hyeonjun… Hyunjoon couldn’t help but shake his head at the memory. Their jungler had finally hit Master last week, only to get demoted all the way back to Diamond 2. It was downright tragic. Hyunjoon had seen the clip from SOOP a while ago where Hyeonjun, in a fit of rage, punched Ati. Doran had laughed at the time, what else could you do? Sometimes, luck wasn't on your side. That was the game.
He was just about to let the phone slip from his hand and surrender to sleep when a soft knock sounded at his door. He ignored it and pulled the blanket higher. The next series of knocks made him frown, irritation prickling at the edges of his exhaustion. Before he could say anything, his phone buzzed in his hand.
[03:14] jjunie: hyung
[03:14] jjunie: i’m outside
Hyunjoon didn’t even bother to get up and let out a sigh. He shouted just loud enough with a hope that it might carry through the door, “Go to sleep, don’t bother me!”
Almost immediately, his phone vibrated again.
[03:15] jjunie: hyung, why are you like this?
[03:15] jjunie: i just want to tell you something
He grabbed his hair before replying, thumb flying across the screen.
[03:16] rando hyung: just tell me here i’m about to sleep
A pause. Is he finally gone?
[03:17] jjunie: please?
Hyunjoon groaned, tossing the covers aside and trudging to the door. He yanked it open, ready to deliver a scolding, but stopped short at the sight of Hyeonjun. The younger looked utterly drained. His shoulders slumped, eyes rimmed with fatigue, and mouth drawn in a thin line. Hyunjoon didn’t expect this sight.
“What’s wrong with you?” Hyunjoon asked, trying to sound annoyed but it landed somewhere closer to concern. Hyeonjun didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Hyunjoon in a desperate hug but the older tried to push him away.
“Hyung can’t even share some warmth? It’s cold,” Hyeonjun mumbled, voice muffled against Hyunjoon’s shoulder.
“Stop joking around, I’m not in the mood for it,” Hyunjoon snapped, but his protest was weak.
“I’m not joking. I really need a hug.”
There was something so genuine in Hyeonjun’s voice that his resistance crumbled. He let his arms fall to his sides and stood there awkwardly. The seconds stretched, then minutes. Five long minutes where neither spoke.
And five minutes was the limit of his patience or maybe just the limit of his feet. “My feet are starting to hurt. Can we sit down?” Hyunjoon muttered finally.
“Hyung, you’re getting too old.” Hyeonjun let out a laugh, probably the realest he had heard from him all day. Hyunjoon rolled his eyes but didn’t rally as they shuffled over to the bed. Hyeonjun sat on the edge, shoulders still hunched, and Hyunjoon found himself sitting beside him.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” Hyeonjun asked suddenly with a small voice. “I’ll take the sofa. You can have your bed. I just... I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Hyunjoon hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He wanted to say no. He really did. He wanted to make a joke, to push him back into the hallway and lock the door. But the look on Hyeonjun’s face made it impossible.
“Fine,” Hyunjoon said, waving a hand in defeat. It was cold tonight, colder than usual, and the thought of Hyeonjun trying to sleep on the lumpy sofa made him wince. “But it’s freezing. Don’t be stupid, just share the bed.”
Hyeonjun blinked, surprised, as if he hadn’t expected Hyunjoon to give in so easily. He hesitated but he still slipped beneath the comforter. They lay side by side, then Hyeonjun started rambling about solo queue and the MMR system. He complained about teammates who never warded, unlucky drafts, and endless climb that never seemed to end. There was a tired humor to his words, a self-deprecating tone that made Hyunjoon smile.
Hyunjoon listened, sometimes offering a grunt or a sarcastic comment, but mostly he let Hyeonjun talk. It was easier that way. Every so often, their arms would brush beneath the comforter, sending a jolt of warmth through Hyunjoon that had nothing to do with the temperature. He pretended not to notice, but he didn’t move away, either.
At some point, the younger talked about some personal stuff and Hyunjoon gladly indulged him. Hyeonjun rarely opened up to people, not with the kind of childhood he’d had. Even Minseok had once told Hyunjoon, that it took him years to break through Hyeonjun’s walls and build the kind of friendship they have. With Hyeonjun, you had to earn your way in, piece by patient piece.
“You’re not alone, you know,” Hyunjoon murmured, surprising himself with how vulnerable his voice sounded in the dark. He suddenly remembered the first month after he’d transferred to T1. New faces, unfamiliar routines, and the gnawing anxiety that he wouldn’t fit in. It had been Hyeonjun who’d noticed him hovering, who’d sat beside him in the practice room, and who'd made him laugh with stupid jokes.
Hyeonjun had been the one to reassure him. Hyung, it’s okay to take your time. You belong here just as much as anyone else. And Hyunjoon wanted to be the steady presence Hyeonjun had been for him. He wanted to be the person who could chase away the shadows when the demons spoke, even if only for a night.
Hyeonjun let out a shaky laugh, “Yeah, I know. It’s just... nice to hear it sometimes.”
The silence that followed was comfortable, filled only by the sound of their breathing and the faint hum of the heater struggling against the cold. Eventually, Hyunjoon felt his eyelids growing heavy and just before sleep claimed him, he felt Hyeonjun’s hand brush lightly against his own beneath the covers.
Hyunjoon didn’t pull away. He let their hands rest together, fingers barely intertwined, and let himself fall asleep to the comfort of knowing he wasn’t alone either.
—
Hyunjoon had always known that privacy was commodity in their dormitory. However, nothing could have prepared him for the way this particular morning unfolded. He was pulled from a dreamless sleep when a sudden click cut through the haze. A split second later, a burst of white light flashed against his closed eyelids. Briefly, he lay disoriented while his mind was struggling to piece together why his room was brighter than usual and why there was a heavy weight draped across his chest.
Then he heard it. A panicked curse, “Oh shit.”
Hyunjoon’s eyes snapped open. The world came into focus slowly, Hyeonjun still asleep while his arm was thrown carelessly over Hyunjoon’s torso. The covers had slipped down, exposing the two of them tangled together in a way that looked, well there was no way to explain it. It was freaking evidence staring him in the face.
And there, standing at the foot of the bed, was Minseok. Phone in hand, mouth hanging open, and eyes wide with shock and something that looked suspiciously like glee. His cheeks were smiling as if he’d stumbled into a scene he’d only ever imagined in the wildest corners of his mind. Hyunjoon’s stomach dropped because he knew exactly what Minseok was thinking, and it was a nightmare come to life.
Minseok hadn’t even bothered to knock and he never did. He’d had that privilege since 2020, back when he and Hyunjoon were teammates in DRX. Hyunjoon was used to it by now. Used to Minseok’s habit of barging in to wake him up for lunch, to his relentless energy, and everything in between. Normally, Hyunjoon would have grumbled, maybe thrown a pillow, but today he was too stunned to react.
Minseok’s plan had been simple. Wake his sleepy hyung, drag him out for lunch with Suhwan, and maybe score a free meal in the process. He’d expected to find Hyunjoon grumpily buried under blankets. What he had not expected was to find Hyeonjun, his best friend, curled up in Hyunjoon hyung’s bed.
For a long, excruciating minute, no one moved. Hyunjoon’s brain, usually so quick in-game, lagged behind reality. He could already imagine how Minseok would never let them forget this. He would definiely show that photo to Suhwan. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.
Finally, Hyeonjun began to stir. He blinked groggily, lifting his head just enough to see his bestfriend standing there. For a split second, confusion flickered across his face. Then, with the kind of casual confidence that only Hyeonjun could muster and Hyunjoon badly envy, he sat up and shoved Minseok out the door.
“You’re such a menace,” Hyeonjun said without missing a beat and voice still rough with sleep. “Let us sleep more.”
Minseok, now in the hallway but still very much in control, called back, “Don’t do something to my hyung!” His voice was teasing, but there was a note of mischief that made Hyunjoon’s cheeks burn hotter. Ah, I’m so fucked.
Why was he so embarrassed? It wasn’t like they were naked or anything. They were just lying on top of the covers, fully clothed, and nothing even remotely scandalous about it. But somehow, the intimacy of the moment felt like it was on display for the whole world.
It was stupid, really. They were just teammates, right? That’s all this was. At least for Hyeonjun, because Hyunjoon never in a million years would he admit out loud or even to himself, that he liked the jungler. Not in that way. Not in any way that mattered.
Hyeonjun rolled his eyes, shutting the door in Minseok’s face with a soft thud. “We’re just sleeping, what the fuck are you saying?” He turned back to the bed, where Hyunjoon was still sitting in silent.
“What the hell happened?” Hyunjoon asked while rubbing his eyes. He opened his mouth to ask another question but closed it again.
Hyeonjun grinned, the corners of his mouth quirking up in amusement. “You’re dreaming, hyung. Go back to sleep. Scrims aren’t until three.”
Hyunjoon knew he wasn’t dreaming. He wanted to argue, to insist that this was, in fact, not a dream, but his mind was still foggy with sleep and embarrassment. With the cold pressing in from the window and Hyeonjun’s warmth beside him, he didn’t really want to move.
So, he let himself sink back into the mattress and closed his eyes. He reached out, almost unconsciously, and wrapped an arm around Hyeonjun’s waist. The jungler let out a surprised laugh, but instead of pulling away, he turned into Hyunjoon’s embrace, resting his forehead gently against his collarbone.
The only sounds in the room were the unmistakable thud of two hearts beating too fast for comfort. Hyunjoon could feel Hyeonjun’s heartbeat against his chest and realized with a start that his own was just as wild. Hyeonjun’s hand found its way to his hyung’s back and deliberately splayed his fingers out. “Hyung, you’re really bad at hiding things.”
Hyunjoon’s eyes snapped open, but the person in front of him only squeezed him, refusing to let go. His breath was warm against his neck, and he wondered if Hyeonjun could feel how tense he’d suddenly become.
Hyeonjun hesitated, then spoke again, “You know, hyung... Sometimes I wish you’d just look at me the way you look at the game. Like I matter that much.” The words slipped out, half embarrassed and half relieved to have finally said it even if it wasn’t quite a confession.
He’d rehearsed this moment in his head so many times before, playing out a dozen different versions of how he might finally tell his Hyunjoon hyung the truth. Sometimes it was over late-night ramen, sometimes after a big win, or just a quiet moment between scrims. He’d always imagined it would be more composed and maybe even a little dramatic.
But never like this, tangled up in blankets, hearts pounding, with the morning sun peeking through the curtains and the memory of Minseok disturbing their sleep. Still, maybe this was right in its own way. Maybe it was enough for now to wait until things were less tangled and until he could find the courage to say it all the way. “We’ll talk about it later, but can we just stay like this? Just for a little longer.”
Hyunjoon’s mind raced with confusion as he held Hyeonjun close. Did he really mean it? Did he see Hyunjoon that way, too? He wanted to say something, but the words were muddled with fear of ruining something precious. Instead, he just held on tighter, hoping that his touch would say what he couldn’t. Hyeonjun mattered, maybe more than anyone else.
He’d deal with that photo later. For now, he was content to stay where he was.
Still, Ryu Minseok, you are so dead.
—
