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Even after trying to convince himself not to, Sunoo found himself standing in front of Ni-ki’s room again.
He had already walked past it once. Twice. Each time telling himself it was stupid, that he was being dramatic, that he should just go back to his own bed and let the night pass like every other one had. But his chest felt tight in a way sleep never fixed, and his feet had carried him here without asking permission.
The hallway was quiet, dimly lit. Everyone else was asleep.
Sunoo stared at the door for a long moment, fingers hovering over the handle. If Ni-ki told him no, he wasn’t sure what he’d do with that. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Ni-ki said yes, either.
He pushed the door open anyway.
Ni-ki was lying on his bed, shirtless, one arm thrown lazily over his head while his other hand scrolled through his phone. The glow illuminated his face just enough for Sunoo to see the faint crease between his brows — something he’d noticed a lot lately, from a distance. The soft creak of the door made Ni-ki turn his head.
His eyes widened slightly.
“Sunoo?” he whispered, like he wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t imagining him.
Sunoo froze in the doorway. Suddenly aware of how out of place he looked standing there, how vulnerable this felt. His fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeve as doubt rushed in.
“I—” His voice caught. He swallowed, looking down at the floor. “Can I… uhm… sleep with you tonight?”
He said it so quietly that Ni-ki almost didn’t catch it.
Ni-ki’s chest tightened painfully. He hadn’t expected this — hadn’t expected how fast relief would hit him, how badly he’d want to say yes. For a moment, he just stared, phone forgotten in his hand, heart beating far too loudly in the quiet room.
The silence stretched.
When Ni-ki didn’t answer right away, Sunoo slowly lifted his head. His expression was careful, guarded. His mouth hung slightly open, like he was already preparing himself to be told no.
“Aren’t we a little old for that now?” Ni-ki finally said, forcing a playful smirk onto his face.
The second he saw Sunoo’s shoulders drop, regret slammed into him.
“Oh,” Sunoo murmured. “You’re right. Sorry—” He turned around quickly, hand gripping the door handle a little too tightly.
“Wait— Sunoo.” Ni-ki sat up too fast, words spilling out before he could stop them.
Sunoo paused. His grip tightened, knuckles whitening, before he slowly turned back.
“I… I don’t really mind,” Ni-ki said, quieter now, honest. He scooted over deliberately, making space beside him. An invitation.
For a moment, Sunoo just stared at the bed. Then his lips curved into a small, fragile smile — the kind Ni-ki hadn’t seen in a while. He closed the door softly behind him and padded over, slipping under the covers like he’d done so many times before. The familiarity hurt more than it should have.
The room fell into silence again, lit only by moonlight spilling through the window.
Ni-ki lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Why didn’t you sleep next to someone else?” he asked quietly. “I’m not… complaining or anything.”
Sunoo hesitated. “I missed you.”
Ni-ki’s heart fluttered painfully.
“Ni-ki ya.”
“Yeah?”
“Can we hug?” Sunoo asked softly. “I’m cold.”
Ni-ki shifted closer, hesitation tugging at him for only a second before he wrapped an arm around Sunoo’s waist and pulled him in. Sunoo fit against him too easily, like his body remembered this even if his mind tried to forget. His head rested close to Ni-ki’s face, and without meaning to, Ni-ki breathed him in — citrus shampoo, clean sheets, something achingly familiar.
“Your skin is so warm,” Sunoo murmured.
Ni-ki swallowed.
Sunoo turned then, pressing closer, tucking himself against Ni-ki’s neck. They were already close, but it still didn’t feel like enough. Ni-ki’s fingers slid into Sunoo’s hair, slow and careful, as if afraid he’d disappear if he moved too fast. A soft sound slipped from Sunoo’s lips — barely there.
Ni-ki’s hand stilled.
The quiet stretched, heavy and uncomfortable.
“…You disappeared,” Ni-ki said suddenly. His voice was low, tight. “You don’t get to just do that and then show up like nothing happened.”
Sunoo stiffened immediately.
Ni-ki felt it and tightened his hold on instinct, pulling him closer instead of letting him pull away. “Don’t,” he murmured. “Don’t turn away now.”
“I’m not,” Sunoo said shakily. “I’m still here.”
“Yeah?” Ni-ki scoffed under his breath. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Sunoo didn’t answer. His forehead pressed harder against Ni-ki’s chest, like he was bracing himself.
“You stopped looking at me,” Ni-ki continued, anger finally slipping through. “You stopped sitting next to me. Every time I walked into a room, you’d leave.” His grip tightened. “Do you know how stupid that made me feel?”
Sunoo’s fingers curled into his shirt, trembling. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
“Then why?” Ni-ki asked immediately. “What did I do?”
Silence.
Too long.
“If you say ‘nothing,’ I swear—”
“It wasn’t nothing,” Sunoo whispered.
Ni-ki’s breath caught.
“I just… needed space,” Sunoo said carefully, each word sharp with restraint. “Because being close started to feel wrong.”
“Wrong how?”
Sunoo hesitated. Ni-ki’s arm tightened again, fear outweighing reason.
“Because I didn’t know how to stay,” Sunoo admitted softly, “without wanting more than I was supposed to.”
Ni-ki went still.
“…More?”
Sunoo shook his head quickly. “I didn’t want to ruin it. I thought if I pulled away, it would stop.”
“But it didn’t,” Ni-ki said.
“No,” Sunoo whispered. “It just hurt.”
Ni-ki shifted, resting his chin against Sunoo’s head. His hand moved to the back of Sunoo’s neck, firm and grounding.
“You don’t get to decide that alone,” he said quietly. “You don’t get to disappear and leave me guessing.”
“I know,” Sunoo whispered. “I’m sorry.”
Ni-ki exhaled slowly, his grip tightening — not angry now, just scared. “Don’t do that again,” he murmured. “Don’t shut me out.”
“I won’t.”
They lay there for a long time after that. Sunoo’s breathing slowly evened out, his body relaxing against Ni-ki’s like he finally felt safe enough to sleep.
Ni-ki didn’t.
He stayed awake, staring at the wall, arm aching but unmoving. Every time Sunoo shifted even slightly, his hold tightened reflexively — like his body had already decided something his mind hadn’t caught up to yet.
Not again. You’re not leaving again.
And for the first time in a long while, Sunoo didn’t.