Chapter Text
The dorm was unusually quiet.
Not silent—never silent—but softer. The usual chaos of video games, bickering, and someone singing off-key had faded into a comfortable evening lull. Rain tapped lightly against the windows, and the city lights blurred in the distance.
Hyunjin sat at the kitchen counter, long fingers wrapped around a mug he’d long forgotten to drink from. He kept glancing toward the hallway.
Jisung had asked him to talk.
Alone.
That alone made Hyunjin’s heart race.
When Jisung finally emerged from his room, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, he hesitated before walking over. For once, he wasn’t joking. No dramatic entrance. No exaggerated sigh.
Just nervous.
“Hyung,” Jisung said softly.
Hyunjin looked up. “Yeah?”
They moved to the living room couch. Close—but not quite touching. The rain filled the silence between them.
Jisung exhaled sharply. “I’m really bad at this.”
Hyunjin’s lips twitched. “Since when?”
“Since it actually matters.”
That made Hyunjin’s chest tighten.
Jisung rubbed the back of his neck. “You know how I joke about everything? It’s because if I don’t, I’ll combust.”
Hyunjin smiled gently. “You’re not combusting.”
“Debatable.”
They both laughed quietly, tension easing for just a second.
Then Jisung grew serious again.
“I… I like you,” he said, words tumbling out in a rush. “Not just like-like-you-as-my-member-or-best-friend. I mean—” He swallowed. “I think about you all the time. When I write lyrics. When we’re on stage. When I can’t sleep. And I tried to ignore it because we’re us, and this is complicated, and I didn’t want to mess up what we have.”
Hyunjin stared at him, heart pounding so loud he was sure Jisung could hear it.
“But,” Jisung continued, voice trembling slightly, “it already matters too much to pretend.”
Silence.
Hyunjin reached out slowly, slipping his hand over Jisung’s sleeve-covered fingers.
“You idiot,” Hyunjin whispered softly.
Jisung blinked. “That’s… not promising.”
Hyunjin laughed quietly, eyes shining. “I was trying to figure out how to tell you the same thing.”
Jisung froze. “Wait. What?”
“I’ve liked you for a while,” Hyunjin admitted. “I kept telling myself it was just because we’re close. That I was being dramatic.” He smiled faintly. “But every time you laugh, I feel like I’ve won something. And every time you’re upset, I feel like I’ve lost.”
Jisung’s eyes widened.
“So,” Hyunjin said, squeezing his hand gently, “if you’re confessing… I guess I am too.”
For a second, Jisung just stared at him.
Then he broke into the brightest, most relieved smile Hyunjin had ever seen.
“Are we…?” Jisung started.
Hyunjin tilted his head. “Are we what?”
“Dating?” Jisung asked, almost afraid to say it.
Hyunjin leaned closer, their shoulders finally touching. “Yeah,” he said softly. “We are.”
Jisung let out a dramatic breath. “Oh my god. Okay. Okay. I can handle this. I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I am not—” He looked down. “Okay, maybe a little.”
Hyunjin laughed and pulled him into a gentle hug. Jisung melted into it instantly, arms wrapping around Hyunjin’s waist like he’d been waiting forever.
They stayed like that for a long moment.
Then Jisung stiffened.
“…We have to tell the others.”
Hyunjin groaned softly. “Do we have to right now?”
“If they walk in and see this, it’ll be worse.”
As if summoned by fate, the front door opened.
Voices spilled in.
“Why are the lights dim?”
“Did someone cook?”
“Why does it smell like emotional tension?”
Hyunjin and Jisung sprang apart.
Too late.
One by one, the rest of the members appeared in the living room doorway. Suspicious. Curious. Grinning.
Jisung looked at Hyunjin.
Hyunjin looked at Jisung.
Jisung took a deep breath. “So… funny story.”
“Terrified already,” Seungmin muttered.
Hyunjin laced his fingers with Jisungsi. The room went completely silent.
“We’re dating,” Hyunjin said calmly.
Five full seconds of stunned stillness.
Then—
“I KNEW IT.”
“Pay up.”
“Wait, actually?!”
“Since when?!”
“Are we allowed to tease you more now or less?”
Jisung blinked. “You guys aren’t… mad?”
“Mad?” Minho scoffed. “We’ve been waiting.”
Changbin pointed dramatically. “Do you know how many times we’ve had to leave the room because the tension was unbearable?”
Hyunjin covered his face. Jisung made a strangled noise.
“But seriously,” Chan added more softly, stepping forward. “Are you happy?”
Jisung glanced at Hyunjin.
Hyunjin smiled at him—soft, sure, steady.
“Yeah,” Jisung said. “Really happy.”
Hyunjin nodded. “Me too.”
The teasing resumed almost instantly—playful groans, exaggerated gagging, Felix pretending to cry about being single—but underneath it was warmth. Acceptance. Familiar love.
Eventually, as the chaos returned to normal levels, Jisung leaned closer to Hyunjin and whispered:
“That went better than expected.”
Hyunjin smiled. “That’s because we’re not just us.”
Jisung raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“We’re eight,” Hyunjin said quietly. “And they’ve always got us.”
Jisung squeezed his hand.
“Good,” he said softly. “Because I plan on keeping you.”
Hyunjin smirked slightly. “You’d better.”
And this time, when the others noticed their hands intertwined again, no one said a word.
They just smiled.