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The eight of them were sprawled across the living room. Legs were thrown over laps, shoulders leaned into whoever was closest, and at one point, Felix had been half-lying across Chan like a starfish. Personal space had never really existed in their group anyway.
It was one of those rare days off where no one had schedules, no rehearsals, no alarms set for the next morning. So naturally, they’d ended up here, on the floor, on the couch, surrounded by empty cans and half-finished bottles.
They were also very, very drunk.
Hyunjin suddenly pushed himself up from where he’d been draped dramatically over the arm of the couch, eyes bright with the kind of thought that only occurred after too much alcohol.
“Okay,” he announced, pointing vaguely at the room. “Important question.”
Seven heads turned toward him.
“Out of all of us,” Hyunjin continued, waving his hand in a slow circle, “who would actually be the best at a relationship? Like- which duo here would make the best boyfriends?”
Changbin didn’t even hesitate.
“Us, Hyunjin-ah. Obviously us.” He thumped his chest proudly. “We’re already halfway there.”
Hyunjin burst out laughing, collapsing back against the couch.
Jisung giggled from where he was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the couch near Minho’s legs. His laughter came out in short bursts, his shoulders shaking.
“This is the best conversation we’ve had all night,” he wheezed.
Chan, who had been quietly nursing his drink, actually seemed to take the question seriously. He leaned back against the couch cushions, thinking.
“Hm,” he hummed. “Felix and I would probably be pretty good.”
Felix immediately perked up beside him.
“Right?!” he said, pointing at Chan excitedly. “We communicate well.”
Chan nodded sagely. “Shared trauma.”
“Bonding,” Felix corrected.
“Trauma bonding,” Chan said.
Several of them nodded like that was completely reasonable.
Hyunjin, meanwhile, had fully stretched himself across Jeongin at this point, limbs everywhere as he wrapped around the younger like an affectionate octopus.
“I personally think it’s me and Innie,” Hyunjin declared confidently. “I chase him, he pushes me away. That’s a perfect dynamic”
Jeongin made a small noise of protest.
But then he shifted closer anyway, half-hugging Hyunjin back.
Drunk Jeongin loved physical affection. Sober Jeongin would absolutely deny this later.
Jisung watched them, grinning.
“You guys are ridiculous,” he said.
Then a thought seemed to hit him.
“Wait,” he said, sitting up a little straighter. “What about me and Minho hyung?”
A few heads turned toward him.
Jisung pointed between the two of them.
“I think we’d actually be great,” he said. “Come on, we already spend all our time together.”
From the far end of the couch, Seungmin scoffed.
“Absolutely not.”
Jisung twisted around immediately. “What do you mean, absolutely not?”
Changbin snorted. “Yeah, I don’t see it either.”
Felix shook his head. “Nope.”
Jisung looked around the room in disbelief.
“Seriously? None of you?”
Hyunjin tilted his head, pretending to think about it.
“I don’t know,” he said. “You two feel more like… best friends.”
“That doesn’t mean we couldn’t date,” Jisung argued.
Jeongin shrugged. “It just doesn’t feel like that.”
Seungmin took a sip of his drink.
“You two call each other platonic soulmates all the time,” he said. “That doesn’t exactly scream romance.”
Jisung frowned. “Okay, first of all-”
“And second of all,” Changbin cut in, “Minho hyung would get tired of you in like three days.”
“Three days?!” Jisung said, offended.
“Maybe four,” Felix added kindly.
Minho, who had been quiet this whole time, raised an eyebrow from where he was sitting on the couch.
“Okay, four days is way too little”, he said dryly.
Jisung turned around immediately, pointing at the others.
“See? Even he thinks that’s ridiculous.”
Seungmin leaned back against the couch.
“I still don’t see it.”
Chan nodded. “Yeah, I think you guys work really well together,” he said. “Just… not like that.”
Jisung looked around the room again, clearly unsatisfied with the responses.
“Wow,” he muttered. “The disrespect.”
The conversation drifted away after that, moving on to other stupid topics and old stories that got louder and more exaggerated the longer the night went on.
But Jisung was quieter than he had been before, nursing his drink and staring down at the floor.
Minho noticed.
He didn’t say anything about it yet.
But he noticed.
***
By the time Minho and Jisung got back to their dorm, the alcohol buzz had started to settle into something quieter and heavier.
Minho kicked off his shoes by the door and stretched his arms above his head.
“Do you want to sleep in my room?” he asked casually.
Jisung, halfway to the hallway, turned back toward him.
“Yeah, sure, hyung,” he said. “Let me just freshen up first.”
Minho nodded. “Same.”
A few minutes later, the dorm had gone quiet.
Jisung stepped into Minho’s room after showering, hair still a little damp, dressed in clean pyjamas. The warmth of the shower had washed away most of the stickiness of the night, leaving him feeling soft and sleepy.
Minho was already there, freshly showered as well, sitting against the headboard and scrolling through his phone.
The bed smelled faintly like clean laundry.
Jisung climbed in beside him, tugging the blanket over himself with a small sigh.
“Ah,” he muttered. “Being clean after drinking is the best feeling in the world.”
Minho hummed in agreement, setting his phone aside and switching off the lamp.
The room fell into a soft darkness, lit only by the faint glow from the streetlights outside.
For a few minutes, neither of them said anything.
They were used to sharing space like this, comfortable silence, the quiet rustle of blankets, the occasional shift as they settled in.
But tonight something felt a little… off.
Minho turned his head slightly.
“You’ve been quiet,” he said.
Jisung stared at the ceiling.
“Hm?”
“Since we got back,” Minho continued. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Jisung said quickly.
Minho was quiet for a second.
“Do you think I don’t know how to read you?” he asked calmly.
Jisung groaned softly into the pillow.
“Hyung.”
“What happened?” Minho asked.
Jisung shifted onto his side, facing the wall.
For a moment, he didn’t answer.
Then he mumbled, “Don’t you think it’s a little upsetting?”
“Upsetting?” Minho repeated.
“Earlier,” Jisung said. “What the members were saying.”
Minho took a second to remember what he meant.
Then he snorted quietly.
“You’re still thinking about that?”
Jisung turned back toward him immediately.
“Well, yeah,” he said. “Aren’t you?”
“No.”
Jisung stared at him like that answer was personally offensive.
“They were so convinced we’d be terrible,” he said.
Minho shrugged against his pillow.
“They’re idiots.”
“That’s not the point.”
Minho glanced at him.
“Then what is the point?”
Jisung hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“I just feel like…” he started slowly. “If we actually wanted to… we’d be great.”
Minho blinked once.
“Great at what?”
“Dating,” Jisung said, like it should be obvious. “I mean, think about it. We already work well together. We spend all our time together. We know everything about each other.”
Minho let out a quiet huff of amusement.
“We do work well together,” he said.
“Exactly!”
“But we don’t need to prove that to anyone.”
Jisung frowned.
“I know, but… I don’t know,” he muttered, rolling onto his back again. “I can’t get it out of my head.”
Minho glanced at him.
“You’re really that bothered?”
“A little,” Jisung admitted.
Minho studied him for a moment.
“Then what do you suggest we do?” he asked.
Jisung went quiet.
For a few seconds, the room was completely still.
Then Minho saw it, the exact moment the gears started turning in Jisung’s head.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Don’t,” Minho said slowly.
Jisung turned to look at him.
“What?”
“I can see you thinking.”
“I’m not-”
“You are.”
Jisung hesitated.
“…Okay, maybe a little.”
Minho sighed.
“What is it?”
Jisung stared at the ceiling for another second.
Then he said carefully, “What if…”
Minho closed his eyes briefly.
“What if what?”
Jisung turned toward him again.
“What if we started dating?”
Minho opened his eyes immediately.
“…What?”
“Not for real!” Jisung said quickly. “Well- I mean, not real real.”
Minho looked deeply unimpressed.
“Jisung.”
“Listen to me,” Jisung insisted, pushing himself up slightly on one elbow. “What if we just… pretend?”
Minho blinked at him.
“Pretend.”
“Yeah,” Jisung said, warming up to the idea now. “Like a fake relationship. Just enough to prove them wrong.”
Minho stared at him for a long moment.
“You want us to fake date.”
“Yes!”
“To prove a point.”
“Exactly.”
Minho slowly rubbed his face with one hand.
“Don’t you think that’s… a little excessive?”
“No,” Jisung said immediately. “I think it’s necessary.”
Minho turned his head toward him again.
“You’re serious.”
“They don’t get it, hyung,” Jisung said, suddenly very earnest. “They don’t get how well we work. You’re literally my soulmate.”
Minho stared at the ceiling.
“Jisung.”
“I’m just saying!”
“Jisung.”
“What?”
“Go to sleep.”
Jisung blinked.
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” Minho said flatly.
“But-”
“Tomorrow.”
Jisung opened his mouth again.
Minho slowly turned his head and looked at him.
Jisung immediately closed his mouth.
“…Fine.”
He flopped back onto the pillow with an annoyed sigh.
The room went quiet again.
A few seconds later, Jisung muttered into the darkness.
“Just think about it, though.”
Minho didn’t answer.
But he also didn’t say no.
***
Morning in the dorm kitchen was quiet in that slow, sleepy way that followed a late night.
Sunlight spilt weakly through the windows, landing in pale rectangles across the floor. The kettle was humming softly on the counter.
Jisung was pacing.
Not dramatically. Just… constantly moving. Opening the fridge. Closing the fridge. Checking his phone. Putting it down. Running a hand through his hair. Walking from the counter to the table and back again.
Minho sat at the small kitchen table with a mug of coffee, watching him over the rim.
He had been watching him for the last five minutes.
Jisung opened the fridge again.
“There’s nothing new in there,” Minho said.
Jisung jumped slightly.
“I know.”
He closed it.
Then he leaned against the counter.
Then he stood up straight again.
Minho took another sip of coffee.
“Are you going to keep doing that all morning?”
Jisung froze mid-step.
“What?”
“The pacing.”
“I’m not pacing.”
“You’ve walked back and forth across this kitchen twelve times.”
Jisung crossed his arms defensively.
“I’m thinking.”
Minho hummed.
“About?”
Jisung stared at him.
“You know about what.”
Minho pretended to think for a moment.
“Oh,” he said flatly. “The fake dating.”
Jisung groaned.
“Hyung.”
Minho set his mug down.
“Okay, fine,” he said.
Jisung blinked.
“Fine, what?”
Minho leaned back in his chair.
“Let’s do it.”
Jisung stared at him.
“…What?”
“Let’s do it,” Minho repeated. “Let’s fake date and prove them wrong.”
For a second, Jisung didn’t move.
Then-
“Really?!” he blurted.
Minho shrugged casually.
“Why not? It might be fun.”
Jisung’s eyes widened.
“And,” Minho added, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, “I’d like to see their faces when they realise they were wrong.”
Jisung lit up immediately.
“Oh my god,” he said, grabbing the back of the chair across from Minho and dropping into it. “I literally love you.”
Minho paused.
Jisung blinked.
“I mean- not like- you know- I just mean-”
Minho cleared his throat.
“Right.”
Jisung grabbed his coffee again and took a huge sip, like that would save him from the embarrassment.
It did not.
Minho gestured toward the couch. “Come on. If we’re doing this, we should at least have a plan.”
They sat down across from each other, knees almost touching.
Jisung tucked one leg under himself, already leaning forward with the intense focus he usually reserved for conspiracy theories and internet deep dives.
“Okay,” he said. “Strategy meeting.”
Minho nodded thoughtfully. “Step one: we need to be convincing.”
“Obviously.”
“That means PDA.”
Jisung nodded immediately. “Yeah. That makes sense.”
Minho watched him for a second before adding, “We already cuddle all the time. That won’t shock anyone.”
“True.”
“So we’ll need something a little more… couple-y.”
Jisung hummed in thought.
“…Holding hands?”
Minho tilted his head. “Yeah. But like- romantically.”
Jisung frowned.
“Is there a difference between holding hands platonically and romantically?”
Minho stared at him.
“…Jisung.”
“What? I’m asking a valid question.”
Minho thought about it for a moment before saying, completely serious, “Maybe we just stare deeply into each other’s eyes while doing it.”
Jisung burst out laughing.
“Oh my god, we’re terrible at this.”
Minho rubbed his face.
“What if they’re right?” Jisung groaned, falling back into the couch cushions. “What if we’re actually just really bad at dating?”
“Stop,” Minho said immediately.
Jisung sat up again.
Minho pointed at him. “Focus.”
Jisung straightened dramatically. “You’re right. Focus.”
A beat passed.
“…What else do couples do?”
Minho hesitated.
“…They kiss.”
The room suddenly felt very quiet.
Jisung blinked.
“Oh.”
Another pause.
Then Jisung rubbed the back of his neck. “Um… do you want to?”
Minho looked just as caught off guard by the question.
“Well,” he said carefully, “I don’t think it’s necessary right now.”
“Right,” Jisung said quickly. “Right, yeah.”
“We can save that for when the members are around,” Minho added. “If the situation calls for it.”
Jisung nodded like that was a perfectly normal sentence.
“Okay. Cool. Yeah. Let’s… shelve that for later.”
They both sat there for a moment.
Then Jisung clapped his hands once.
“Okay! Step one: hand holding.”
Minho held out his hand.
Jisung looked at it.
And suddenly, this felt a lot more serious than it had thirty seconds ago.
It was just Minho’s hand.
They’d high-fived a million times. Jisung had literally fallen asleep on Minho before. They wrestled, they shoved each other, they shared food straight off the same plate.
This was not a big deal.
Not even a little bit.
Still, when Jisung placed his hand in Minho’s, something in his chest did a small, unexpected flip.
Minho’s fingers closed around his.
Warm.
Steady.
Jisung glanced up.
Minho was looking at their hands like he was analysing the situation.
“…Is this romantic?” Jisung asked.
Minho thought about it.
“…Not really.”
“Oh.”
A pause.
Then Minho shifted slightly closer.
Their fingers laced together this time.
And for some reason that felt… different.
Jisung felt heat creep up the back of his neck.
Okay.
Maybe that was a little romantic.
Minho glanced at him. “Better?”
Jisung nodded quickly.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, this works.”
They both stared at their joined hands for a moment longer than necessary.
Then Jisung cleared his throat.
“Okay,” he said, trying very hard to sound normal. “We’re definitely going to fool them.”
Minho hummed.
Neither of them let go.
***
Jisung sat cross-legged on the couch in the studio, headphones hanging around his neck as he watched through the glass of the recording booth.
Minho stood inside, one hand holding the headphones over his ear while he finished his line.
Jisung watched him automatically.
Not in a weird way.
Just… in a normal way.
Totally normal.
Minho’s voice carried through the speakers as he finished the take. Changbin leaned forward over the console while Chan adjusted something on the screen, both of them focused.
“Okay, good,” Chan said into the mic. “That one’s clean.”
Minho pulled the headphones off and stepped out of the booth a moment later.
He stretched his shoulders as he walked over, dropping onto the couch beside Jisung.
Close.
Very close.
Their shoulders pressed together automatically, like they always did.
Jisung glanced toward the console for a second.
Chan and Changbin were still busy with Seungmin’s recording.
Good.
Without saying anything, he reached over and grabbed Minho’s hand.
Then he laced their fingers together.
Minho barely reacted, just shifting slightly so their hands rested comfortably between them.
Jisung nodded to himself.
Then he slowly turned his head.
And stared at Minho.
Minho noticed almost immediately.
“…What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Jisung whispered.
Then he kept staring.
Minho stared back after a second, brows knitting slightly.
They sat there.
Holding hands.
Looking at each other.
Ten seconds passed.
Thirty seconds.
One minute.
Jisung kept waiting for someone to gasp dramatically.
Or shout.
Or throw something.
Anything.
Two minutes later…
Nothing.
Chan and Changbin were still completely focused on Seungmin’s recording.
Jisung slowly leaned forward until his face was tucked against Minho’s shoulder.
From the outside, it probably looked affectionate.
In reality, he was whispering frantically.
“Why are they not saying anything?”
Minho didn’t move.
“I don’t know,” he murmured back.
“They’re supposed to react.”
“They’re busy.”
Jisung peeked toward the console.
Chan and Changbin were both staring at the screen while Seungmin’s voice came through the speakers.
Minho sighed softly.
“They’re working.”
Jisung deflated a little.
“So they haven’t even looked over here?”
“Nope.”
“…Great.”
Jisung slumped slightly but kept holding Minho’s hand because he was committed to the bit now.
Just then, the door opened.
Felix walked in, stretching his arms over his head.
“Is Seungmin still recording?”
“Yeah,” Jisung answered automatically.
Felix nodded and plopped down on the couch on Jisung’s other side.
Perfect.
Jisung straightened slightly.
He tightened his fingers around Minho’s hand and leaned a little closer to him.
Felix pulled out his phone.
And started playing a game.
Jisung waited.
Felix kept tapping his screen.
Jisung waited harder.
Felix finally glanced up.
Jisung’s brain lit up.
Felix looked at him.
Then at Minho.
Then at their hands.
And said-
“Sungie, how many parts do I have today?”
Jisung blinked.
“…What?”
“For recording,” Felix said patiently. “How many parts?”
“Oh- right- uh-”
Jisung scrambled through the track list in his brain.
“Just the chorus,” he said quickly. “And a little bit of the outro.”
Felix nodded thoughtfully.
“Okay, good.”
He tapped his phone again.
“I have training later, so I needed to know.”
“Yeah,” Jisung said weakly. “Mm-hmm. Yes.”
Felix went back to his game.
Completely unbothered.
Jisung stared at him.
Then slowly turned back to Minho.
Still holding his hand.
Still ignored.
Minho looked down at their joined hands for a moment, then glanced back at Jisung, giving him an apologetic look.
Later that night, back at the dorm, Jisung flopped dramatically onto the couch.
“This is ridiculous,” he groaned.
Minho leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed.
“They didn’t even react!”
Minho shrugged.
“Maybe handholding isn’t that couple-y.”
Jisung rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
“We tried our best.”
Minho hummed thoughtfully.
“It’s fine.”
Jisung turned his head toward him.
“So what now?”
Minho tilted his head slightly, considering.
“We adjust the strategy.”
Jisung slowly sat up again.
His eyes lit up with determination.
“Yes,” he said. “Time for another game plan.”
Well, they didn’t immediately come up with a new strategy…
Instead, they ended up doing what they almost always did on nights like this.
Watching a movie together.
Jisung had already taken over the couch, remote in hand, scrolling through Netflix while Minho leaned back beside him.
“Okay… okay…” Jisung muttered, flipping through thumbnails.
Minho watched him for a moment.
Then Jisung suddenly stopped scrolling.
“Oh. This looks good.”
Minho leaned slightly to see the screen.
The thumbnail for To All the Boys I've Loved Before filled the TV.
Minho blinked.
“Seriously?”
Jisung shrugged.
“I don’t know. It might be fun.”
Minho looked at the overly pink, extremely rom-com-looking poster again.
Then he looked back at Jisung.
“You’re choosing this.”
“Don’t judge me,” Jisung said, already pressing play. “Sometimes you need a classic.”
Minho sighed and sank deeper into the couch.
It didn’t really matter what they watched anyway.
Half the time, Jisung talked through the entire movie.
Which he had already started doing.
“Oh my god,” Jisung groaned ten minutes in. “This is so embarrassing. I would simply pass away.”
“You’re already pretty embarrassing,” Minho replied.
Jisung shoved a pillow into his face without even looking away from the screen.
They kept watching.
The movie played quietly for a while, Jisung occasionally making dramatic commentary while Minho pretended not to care but kept watching anyway.
Then a scene came up where Peter and Lara Jean were walking through school together.
Peter casually slid his hand into the back pocket of Lara Jean’s jeans while they walked.
At one point, he even spun her around by the pocket and handed her a note from his pocket.
Jisung suddenly sat straight up.
“AH!”
Minho flinched.
“What?!”
Jisung pointed aggressively at the screen.
“That!”
Minho squinted at the TV.
“…What?”
“That’s it!” Jisung said, turning toward him with wide, excited eyes. “That’s what we have to do!”
Minho blinked slowly.
“…Huh?”
Jisung grabbed the remote and paused the movie.
The screen froze on the couple.
“This movie is literally a guide on how to fake date,” he said, sounding personally offended that he hadn’t realised this earlier. “I cannot believe we didn’t watch this sooner.”
Minho stared at him.
“You want us to… what exactly?”
Jisung pointed back at the paused screen.
“That!”
Minho looked again.
“…Putting my hand in your back pocket?”
“Yes.”
Minho raised an eyebrow.
“That looks romantic to you?”
“I don’t know,” Jisung admitted. “It looks couple-y.”
Minho stared at the screen for another second.
Then at Jisung.
Then back at the screen.
“I really doubt that.”
“Well,” Jisung said with a shrug, “what’s the harm in trying?”
Minho considered it.
Then he sighed.
“…Fine.”
Jisung immediately brightened.
“Really?”
“We could try it,” Minho said.
Jisung pointed triumphantly at the TV.
“See? This movie is research.”
Minho leaned back into the couch again.
“Your research methods are questionable.”
Jisung unpaused the movie.
“Just wait,” he said confidently. “By the end of this film, we’re going to have a whole strategy.”
Minho leaned back into the couch again, resigned.
“Fantastic.”
Jisung scooted slightly closer without even realising it, already fully invested in the movie again.
On the screen, Lara Jean and Peter kept looking at each other like a perfectly fake couple.
And Jisung watched very carefully.
Taking notes.
***
A few days later, they finally had a chance to try the new idea.
Jisung had spent those few days feeling extremely confident about it.
Very confident.
This plan was definitely better than hand-holding.
Probably.
They were packed into the elevator at the JYP Entertainment building with the rest of the members and a couple of Skijigi.
Chan and Changbin were talking about something production-related in the back.
Seungmin was checking something on his phone.
Felix, Jeongin and Hyunjin were whispering about a new restaurant in the area
Jisung and Minho stood right at the front near the doors.
Jisung leaned slightly against the wall of the elevator, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.
Minho stood beside him, quiet.
Waiting.
The elevator dinged.
Their floor.
The doors slid open.
“This is perfect,” Jisung muttered under his breath as they stepped out first.
All the members were still behind them.
Which meant-
Audience.
They had barely taken three steps into the hallway when Minho moved.
Casually.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
His hand slipped straight into the back pocket of Jisung’s jeans.
Right over his…
Jisung jerked forward so suddenly that he almost tripped.
“Whoa-”
Minho’s fingers tightened slightly to steady him and then gave him a small squeeze.
Jisung made a noise that he immediately regretted.
“Minho-” he hissed under his breath.
Minho ignored him completely.
They kept walking.
Then Minho tugged.
Hard enough that Jisung spun around.
Suddenly, he was pulled right into Minho’s space, chest to chest, exactly like the scene from the movie.
For a moment, they both froze there.
Jisung’s brain short-circuited slightly.
Because Minho was close. Very close.
Then footsteps passed them.
One by one.
All of them heading straight into the rehearsal room.
None of them stopped. None of them reacted. None of them even slowed down.
The door to the rehearsal room closed behind them.
Jisung and Minho stayed in the hallway, chest to chest.
Still standing way too close.
Minho’s hand was still in Jisung’s back pocket.
Jisung slowly turned his head toward the rehearsal room door.
Then back toward Minho.
“…Are they blind?”
Minho blinked once.
“…Possibly.”
“…That should have worked,” Jisung said quietly.
Minho didn’t disagree.
After another second, he finally pulled his hand out of Jisung’s pocket like nothing had happened.
“Well,” Minho shrugged, “let’s go in”
So they went inside.
The rehearsal room looked exactly like it always did before practice, chaotic yet structured.
Chan stood near the mirrors, stretching his arms over his head, rolling his shoulders like he always did before warm-ups. Changbin was already pacing around the room, doing little jumps and shaking out his legs, muttering counts under his breath.
Near the speakers, Felix and Hyunjin were crouched over one of their phones, whispering excitedly about something.
Seungmin and Jeongin sat cross-legged on the floor nearby, scrolling through their phones
And Skijigi stood by the door talking quietly with the choreographers.
Everything looked… completely normal.
Jisung and Minho stopped just inside the doorway.
Jisung’s eyes slowly moved across the room.
Not a single weird look. No whispering. No teasing. Nothing.
It was like the hallway moment hadn’t even happened.
Chan finally noticed them lingering by the door.
He straightened up and frowned slightly.
“Why are you two just standing there?” he asked. “We’re about to start practice.”
Minho immediately nodded.
“Yeah, yeah. We’re coming.”
But Jisung didn’t move right away.
He was still staring at everyone like a detective scanning a crime scene.
Hyunjin noticed.
He tilted his head slowly.
“…Why are you looking at us like that?”
Jisung blinked.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to punch us,” Hyunjin said.
Felix finally looked up from the phone, too.
Jisung immediately waved his hands, although some part of him did feel like punching something.
“No! I’m not- I’m just- nothing. Nothing is happening. Nothing is up.”
He laughed awkwardly.
Nobody else did.
Seungmin raised one eyebrow.
Chan looked mildly concerned.
Hyunjin narrowed his eyes.
“…You’re being weird.”
“I’m not!” Jisung said quickly.
Then he immediately tripped over his own words.
“I mean- I’m normal. Completely normal. Nothing weird happening with me at all.”
There was a small pause.
Felix leaned closer to Hyunjin and whispered loudly,
“Why is he like this?”
“I don’t know,” Hyunjin whispered back.
Minho cleared his throat and gently nudged Jisung forward.
“Let’s just start practice.”
Jisung finally moved.
Practice started like usual. Music blasted through the speakers. The mirrors filled with movement as they began running through the choreography.
But Jisung never fully settled into it. His mind kept drifting. Every few minutes, he caught himself glancing at the others, waiting for someone, anyone, to say something.
But nobody did.
They were too busy focusing on the choreography, and Jisung kept missing counts.
“Jisung,” Chan said halfway through a run-through.
Jisung blinked.
“You’re late on the turn again.”
“Oh- sorry,” he said quickly.
They started again.
Two minutes later, he missed another step.
Changbin glanced at him.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” Jisung said quickly. “Yeah, I’m good.”
He was not good.
By the end of practice, everyone was sweaty and tired, collapsing onto the floor or leaning against the mirrors.
Jisung dropped down near the wall, frustrated and unsatisfied.
The plan had completely failed.
Again.
***
Later, they were packed into the company van heading back to the dorm. The car hummed softly as it moved through the evening traffic. Most of the others were busy talking in the back or scrolling on their phones.
Minho and Jisung sat next to each other near the window. Jisung had his arms folded tightly across his chest.
“This is so frustrating,” he muttered under his breath.
Minho glanced at him.
“Nothing is working.” Jisung sighed heavily. “We tried hand holding, then the pocket thing, and nobody even noticed.”
Minho thought about it for a moment.
“…Maybe we should just give up.”
Jisung turned to him immediately.
“No.”
Minho raised an eyebrow.
“You’re still that determined?”
“Yes,” Jisung said firmly. “I need to prove them wrong.”
Minho studied him for a moment.
Then he sighed quietly.
“Okay.”
He leaned his head back against the seat.
“Let’s just get home first,” he said. “We’ll think of something.”
Back at the dorm, they ended up in the living room again. Jisung paced slowly in front of the couch while Minho sat with his arms resting on the back of it.
“I don’t know what else we can do,” Jisung said, running both hands through his hair. “What would actually make them believe we’re dating?”
Minho tilted his head. “But we’re not.”
Jisung stopped pacing. “Okay, but they don’t know that.”
Minho hummed thoughtfully.
Silence filled the room for a moment.
Then Minho shifted slightly. “…What if we…”
Jisung immediately turned. “What?”
Minho hesitated. “It might be a little much.”
Jisung spread his hands dramatically. “I think we need a little much at this point.”
Minho leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.
“When I was still a trainee,” he said slowly, “one of the dancers came into practice with hickeys all over his neck.”
Jisung blinked.
Minho continued. “Everyone noticed immediately. People kept asking him questions, and he got teased the entire day.”
Jisung grew quiet.
His brain clearly turning the idea over.
Minho watched him carefully. “…So?” he prompted.
Jisung looked up.
“So?”
Minho frowned slightly.
“Do you see what I’m getting at?”
Jisung shook his head.
“No.”
Minho exhaled through his nose.
“Maybe you should go in front of the members with a hickey.”
Jisung blinked again.
“Oh.”
Minho shrugged.
“It’s noticeable.”
“They’d definitely ask about it.” Jisung hums.
“And then you could say it was me.”
Jisung’s eyes slowly widened. “Wait.”
Minho looked at him.
“That’s genius,” Jisung said suddenly.
Minho looked mildly proud.
“That actually makes so much sense,” Jisung continued.
Minho nodded slowly.
“It’s obvious. People always notice those.”
Jisung frowned again.
“But… how would I get a hickey?”
Minho thought for a second. “…I could pinch your neck really hard.”
Jisung stared at him. “That would look so weird.”
“Probably,” Minho admitted.
They both went quiet again.
Minho frowned, thinking.
Then Jisung spoke slowly. “What if…”
Minho looked up.
“What if you just gave me one?”
Minho blinked. “…What?”
“I mean not like- not like seriously,” Jisung said quickly.
Minho waited.
“Just for the bigger purpose,” Jisung finished. “You’re not giving me a hickey because you want to. You’re giving me one so we can prove them wrong.”
Minho leaned back slightly, thinking it over, and a strange look passed over his face.
After a moment, he nodded. “…Yeah.”
Jisung leaned forward. “Yeah?”
“It makes sense,” Minho said calmly. “I’m giving you a hickey to prove them wrong.”
Jisung nodded quickly. “Exactly.”
“There’s nothing behind it.”
“Of course not,” Jisung said immediately.
They both sat there for a moment.
Then Jisung clapped his hands once. “Okay.”
Minho looked at him. “So we’re doing this.”
Jisung nodded. “Yes.”
Minho sat on the couch with his hands clasped between his knees, leaning forward slightly like he was about to be tortured.
Jisung stood in front of him for a moment, arms folded, staring down at him with the same expression.
The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. The dorm lights were soft, and the late evening hung in the air like a blanket.
Jisung cleared his throat.
“So,” he said, dragging the word out awkwardly.
Minho nodded once.
“So.”
Another pause stretched between them.
Jisung rubbed the back of his neck. “How… how do we do this?”
Minho blinked at him like that was the most ridiculous question he had ever heard.
“Well,” he said slowly, “I have to… you know.”
Jisung nodded immediately. Too quickly. “Right. Yeah. Of course.”
They both looked anywhere except at each other.
The silence came back, thicker this time.
Jisung bounced his knee nervously. “We’re doing this to prove them wrong.”
Minho exhaled through his nose, like he was reminding himself of the same thing.
“To prove them wrong,” he repeated.
Another pause.
Minho shifted his weight, then finally moved forward and sat on the coffee table in front of Jisung so they were at the same level. The movement made Jisung straighten instinctively.
Minho hesitated for a second before slowly placing his hands on Jisung’s shoulders.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
Jisung nodded immediately.
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine.”
His voice came out a little higher than usual.
Minho’s hands were warm even through the thin fabric of Jisung’s shirt. Not heavy. Just resting there, steady.
Jisung suddenly became very aware of how close they were.
Minho leaned in slightly.
Jisung’s breathing hitched before he could stop it.
Minho paused.
“Are you sure?” he asked quietly.
Jisung swallowed and nodded again. “Yeah.”
Minho leaned closer. Close enough that Jisung could feel his breath now, warm against the side of his neck. It sent a sudden shiver down his spine.
Jisung stiffened slightly, confused by the reaction. His stomach did this strange, fluttery flip that made absolutely no sense.
This was just part of the plan.
Just a process.
Nothing else.
Minho’s voice dropped lower when he spoke again, almost brushing against Jisung’s skin.
“Last chance to back out.”
Jisung shook his head quickly. “No. It’s fine. We’re doing this.”
To prove them wrong.
Minho hummed softly, then lowered his head the last inch.
The moment his lips finally made contact with Jisung’s neck, he choked.
A startled sound escaped him as his shoulders jerked.
Minho immediately pulled back.
“Are you okay??”
Jisung coughed once, waving his hands frantically.
“Yes- yes- please- just- go ahead,” he said quickly, slightly breathless. “It’s just been… a long time since I’ve done this.”
Minho stared at him for a second.
“…Same,” he admitted.
There was a small beat of mutual embarrassment.
Then Minho leaned in again.
This time slower.
More careful.
When his mouth returned to Jisung’s neck, the contact was softer. Just a gentle press at first, like he was testing the pace.
Jisung held his breath.
Minho’s grip on his shoulders tightened slightly as he adjusted his position.
The pressure started light, but gradually built.
Jisung could feel the warmth spreading where Minho’s mouth rested against his skin. His stomach twisted again, that same strange, fluttering feeling, except stronger this time.
His fingers curled slightly into the couch cushion beside him.
He shouldn’t be reacting like this.
This was supposed to be practical.
A solution.
Evidence.
Not… whatever this was.
Minho shifted slightly, pressing closer, and suddenly found a particularly sensitive spot along Jisung’s neck.
A small sound slipped out before Jisung could stop it.
A quiet, breathy whine from the back of his throat.
Jisung froze.
Then immediately panicked.
“Sorry!” he blurted, voice flustered. “I didn’t mean to-”
But Minho hadn’t pulled away.
If anything, he had gone very still.
When he spoke, his voice was low, almost distracted.
“It’s okay,” he murmured.
Jisung felt the words against his skin.
“I want you to enjoy yourself.”
Jisung’s brain short-circuited for a second.
“…Yeah,” he breathed.
Minho continued, a little more confident now. The pressure deepened slightly, steady and deliberate.
The warmth in Jisung’s chest spread outward, making his head feel oddly light.
Without really thinking about it, his hands moved.
They settled on Minho’s sides first, tentative, before sliding up slightly, gripping the back of his shirt.
Minho stopped for a second, but he didn’t move away and continued kissing and sucking on Jisung’s neck
The room seemed completely silent except for the faint sounds of their breathing and the soft sounds of Minho’s lips on Jisung’s skin.
Eventually, Minho pulled back.
Slowly.
Jisung blinked a few times, trying to reorient himself.
Minho leaned back slightly, staring at Jisung’s neck with raised eyebrows.
“…Whoa.”
Jisung frowned.
“What?”
Minho tilted his head, clearly impressed.
“Okay, wow.”
“What does that mean??”
Minho gestured vaguely toward his neck.
“That is… very noticeable.”
Jisung immediately grabbed his phone and flipped to the front camera.
He angled it toward his neck.
A bright red mark was already forming against his skin.
Jisung blinked.
“…Oh.”
He tilted his head slightly, inspecting it.
“Wow.”
Minho snorted softly.
“You said it had been a long time.” Jisung lowered the phone slowly, still staring at the mark in mild disbelief. “But you did a pretty good job.”
Minho huffed a quiet laugh.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then their eyes met.
And stayed there.
The air suddenly felt heavier than before.
Jisung cleared his throat awkwardly.
“That was… not so bad, right?”
Minho nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, totally.”
A beat.
“That was completely normal.”
Another beat.
“It was nice,” Minho added quickly, then immediately looked like he regretted the wording. “I mean, not nice. Just good. Efficient.”
Jisung nodded, like that made perfect sense.
“Yeah.”
They both sat there for another second, clearly unsure what to do next.
Finally, Jisung gestured vaguely toward his neck.
“Well… I hope this works.”
Minho leaned back with a small sigh.
“I really hope so too.”
***
Jisung had barely slept.
Not because he was tired, he absolutely was, but because every time he closed his eyes, his brain decided it was the perfect moment to replay last night in painfully vivid detail.
Minho leaning closer. His hands settling carefully on Jisung’s shoulders. The warmth of his breath against Jisung’s neck. The way his voice had dropped when he whispered, Are you sure?
Jisung groaned into his pillow and flipped onto his back.
This was ridiculous.
It had just been a hickey.
Just part of the plan.
A very strategic, very necessary step in proving everyone wrong.
That was the point.
Except now that the morning had arrived, the plan suddenly felt… heavier.
Today was the day everyone would see it.
The whole point of last night had been to walk into the room, show the evidence, and watch the others realise they had been wrong all along.
It should have felt satisfying.
Victorious, even.
Instead, something inside Jisung twisted uncomfortably every time he thought about it.
He pressed his fingers against the mark on his neck.
The skin there was still sensitive.
Warm.
Visible.
The hickey was supposed to be the game-changer.
But now that the moment was here, Jisung found himself hesitating.
For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he didn’t want to walk in and wave it around like a trophy.
Something about that felt… wrong.
Like the whole thing had somehow stopped being just a joke.
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when that had happened.
But the uneasy feeling followed him all the way to the company building.
And it was still there when he sat down in the makeup chair.
The makeup room buzzed with its usual morning chaos, stylists moving around with brushes and palettes, members talking over each other, the faint sound of someone playing music from their phone.
Jisung tried to focus on anything except the nervous flutter in his chest.
He failed.
One of the makeup noonas tilted his chin gently.
Then she paused.
“…Jisung-nim.”
Jisung immediately felt dread crawl up his spine.
“Yes?”
She leaned closer, examining the side of his neck.
A slow smile spread across her face.
“Well,” she said lightly, “you surely had a good night last night, didn’t you?”
Heat flooded Jisung’s face instantly.
“I- what - no- I mean-”
His brain completely abandoned him.
Next to him, a familiar voice spoke up.
“Whoa.”
Jisung turned his head slightly.
Felix was staring directly at his neck.
“Dude,” Felix said slowly, clearly impressed, “you look like you got attacked by a very large bed bug.”
Jisung groaned and covered his face with his hands.
“It wasn’t a bed bug.”
Felix’s eyebrows shot up.
“Oh.”
He leaned back in his chair, visibly impressed.
“Well damn.”
He gave Jisung an approving nod. Jisung peeked through his fingers.
“Good for you,” he added casually.
Jisung blinked.
“…Wait.”
Felix hummed.
“You’re not going to ask who it was?”
Felix glanced at him in the mirror. “Why would I?”
Jisung frowned. “Because you literally tell me everything about your love life.”
Felix turned his chair slightly. “That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because,” Felix said patiently, “I choose to share that information. I don’t interrogate people.”
Jisung stared at him suspiciously. “So you’re just… not curious?”
Felix shrugged. “Your private life is your private life.”
The answer should have ended the conversation.
Instead, Jisung shifted awkwardly in his chair.
His heart was beating a little too fast.
“Well…” he started.
Felix glanced over again.
Jisung hesitated.
Then he said, a little too casually, “Well, he just went at it a little harder than usual.”
Felix blinked. “…He?”
Felix slowly turned his chair toward him.
“Oh,” he said. “This just got interesting.”
Jisung immediately tried to backtrack.
“I mean- not- like- it was just-”
Felix leaned forward.
“Who?”
Jisung’s brain panicked. “…Minho.” The name slipped out before he could stop it.
Silence filled the space between them.
Felix stared at him.
Then he burst out laughing.
“Okay,” he said, shaking his head, “no.”
Jisung blinked.
“…What?”
Felix wiped at the corner of his eye. “Absolutely not.”
Jisung frowned. “Why not?”
Felix looked at him like he had just suggested the most ridiculous thing imaginable.
“Because that makes zero sense.”
Something sharp twisted in Jisung’s chest. “What do you mean, it makes zero sense?”
Felix waved his hand casually. “Hyung and you? Come on.”
The way he said it, so dismissively, so certain, made irritation spark under Jisung’s skin.
“Why are you saying it like that?”
Felix shrugged. “I’m just saying. If you’re going to lie, at least pick someone believable.”
Jisung straightened in his chair.
“I’m not lying.”
Felix snorted. “Sure.”
Heat rushed to Jisung’s face again, but this time it wasn’t embarrassment. “Why would I lie about something like this?”
Felix crossed his arms. “I don’t know. Maybe because it’s funny?”
Jisung’s voice sharpened before he could stop it. “Why is it so impossible that it could be Minho?”
Felix blinked at the sudden intensity.
“Dude, relax. I’m just saying-”
“No, you’re not just saying,” Jisung cut in. “You’re acting like it’s ridiculous.”
Felix studied him more carefully now. “…You’re getting weirdly defensive.”
Jisung opened his mouth. Then closed it again. Because he didn’t actually know why he was upset.
Felix tilted his head slightly. “Jisung,” he said gently.
Jisung avoided his gaze.
“Why are you so bothered by the idea of people not believing you and Minho are together?”
The question sat heavily in the air.
Felix continued carefully, “You guys aren’t actually dating… right?”
Jisung’s mouth opened. “…Well-”
The word got stuck. Because they weren’t. And he couldn’t say they were.
Felix watched his expression shift. Something understanding flickered across his face.
“…Jisung,” he said softly, “you need to think about something.”
Jisung didn’t like the sound of that.
“If the thought of people not accepting you and Minho together is making you this upset…” Felix continued, “Maybe there’s something there.”
Jisung immediately shook his head.
“No.”
Too fast. Too sharp.
Felix raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”
“No.”
Felix leaned back slightly. “Then why does it matter so much to you?”
Jisung had no answer.
The silence stretched.
Felix waited.
Jisung stared at the floor.
Then suddenly he stood up.
“I have to go,” he muttered.
“Jisung-”
But he was already walking out.
***
That night, the dorm was quiet.
Jisung lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the room dim except for the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains.
Sleep refused to come.
Felix’s words kept replaying in his head.
If this bothers you so much… maybe there’s something there.
Jisung turned onto his side with a frustrated sigh. There wasn’t. There couldn’t be.
His fingers drifted to his neck before he even realised what he was doing. The mark was still there. Fainter now, but not completely gone.
And the memory came rushing back. Minho sitting in front of him. His hands warm against Jisung’s shoulders. The careful way he had asked, Is this okay?
Jisung squeezed his eyes shut. His stomach flipped again. Annoyingly.
Because none of this meant anything. Minho had only done it because of the plan. Because Jisung had asked.
Because they both hated being wrong.
That was all it was.
Still, his mind wandered. Against his better judgment. He imagined it for a moment. What it would feel like if it were real.
Dating Minho.
Minho sitting next to him on the couch, shoulder pressed against his. Minho’s hand resting casually on the back of his neck. Minho kissing his lips with the same gentleness he had kissed his neck.
The thought made something warm bloom painfully in Jisung’s chest. He shoved it away immediately.
No.
That was stupid.
Because Minho would never feel the same way. Minho had only gone along with this because Jisung asked. Because it was funny. Because it helped prove a point.
Nothing more.
Jisung stared up at the ceiling again, his chest feeling strangely heavy.
Minho would never like him like that.
And for some reason, that realisation hurt more than Jisung had expected.
Morning came far too quickly.
Jisung knew that before he even opened his eyes.
His alarm went off, and for a long moment, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the dull heaviness behind his eyes that only came from sleeping too little and thinking too much.
Which he had done plenty of.
Every time he had tried to fall asleep, his brain had replayed the same moment on loop.
Minho leaning closer. His hands on Jisung’s shoulders. The warmth of his breath against Jisung’s neck.
Jisung groaned softly and dragged a hand over his face.
This was ridiculous.
It had just been a stupid plan. A joke to prove everyone wrong.
Except now it didn’t feel like a joke anymore.
And that was exactly the problem.
With a tired sigh, Jisung pushed himself out of bed and shuffled toward the kitchen.
The dorm was quiet, just like it was most days. Their routine in the morning was always done in silence, both of them moving around each other comfortably without the need of breaking their bubble with conversation. The quiet was comfort but today it felt suffocating to Jisung.
Pale sunlight filtered through the kitchen window as Jisung reached the counter and immediately started making coffee.
Strong coffee. The strongest he could manage.
Normally, he would add milk. Sugar. Something to make it taste less like tar.
Today, he didn’t bother.
He poured the dark liquid into a mug and took a long sip.
It was bitter enough to make his face scrunch up.
Good.
Maybe it would wake him up.
Maybe it would burn away the thoughts that had been sitting in his chest since last night.
He leaned against the counter, hoping his brain would reboot and give him all the answers he needed.
Then he heard footsteps behind him.
Jisung froze for half a second.
He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
Minho walked into the kitchen a moment later.
Jisung could feel his presence immediately, his body immediately drawn towards Minho’s presence.
Jisung kept his eyes on the mug.
He hoped Minho would just grab something and leave.
Of course, he didn’t.
There was a small pause.
Then Minho spoke.
“…Since when do you drink black coffee?”
Jisung glanced down at the mug like he had just noticed it himself.
“Oh.”
He shrugged slightly.
“Just needed the caffeine.”
He could practically feel Minho studying him.
Minho had always been annoyingly good at noticing things.
“You look like you didn’t sleep,” Minho said.
“Uh- yeah, just couldn’t,” Jisung replied, taking another sip.
The coffee burned his tongue.
He ignored it.
“Why?” Minho asked.
Jisung stared into the mug.
“Just tired.” The answer came out flat, and he knew it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Minho shifting slightly, probably boring holes into his head, trying to figure things out.
Jisung focused very hard on his mug.
If he didn’t look at Minho, this conversation might end faster.
It didn’t.
“Is everything okay?” Minho asked after a moment.
“Yeah.” Too quick. Jisung knew it the second the word left his mouth.
And judging by the silence that followed, Minho knew it too.
Jisung took another sip of coffee just to have something to do.
A few seconds passed.
Then Minho spoke again, his tone a little more casual this time. “So… did any of the members say anything about that?”
Jisung didn’t have to ask what that meant. His fingers instinctively brushed the side of his neck before he could stop himself. The mark was still there. Of course it was. Jisung forced himself to shrug.
“No.”
Minho paused. “No?”
“They didn’t notice.” Jisung kept his voice as indifferent as possible.
He stared at the counter while he spoke.
“They don’t really care.”
He could feel Minho’s attention intensify a little at that.
Jisung didn’t give him time to question it.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he added quickly.
“You were the one-”
Jisung set the mug down, cutting Minho off, “I think we should just stop doing this.”
There was a small pause behind him.
“…Stop?”
Jisung shrugged.
“The whole thing.”
He finally glanced up just long enough to see Minho frowning slightly.
“The fake dating?” Minho asked.
“Yeah.”
Jisung leaned back against the counter, folding his arms loosely.
“There’s no point.”
Minho was still looking at him, clearly confused.
Jisung pretended not to notice.
“They don’t believe it anyway,” he continued dismissively. “There’s no need for us to keep going behind a lost cause.”
Minho’s expression shifted slightly at that, the way it did when something wasn’t adding up in his head.
Jisung knew that look.
It meant Minho was trying to piece things together.
Jisung looked away before he could ask any more questions.
“So it’s pointless,” Jisung finished.
He picked up the mug again just to keep his hands busy.
“And it’s not like we’re actually a thing.”
The words came out lighter than they felt. Silence filled the kitchen. Jisung kept his eyes on the coffee.
Then he added, quieter this time, “And it’s not like we could ever be.”
He didn’t mean to say that part out loud.
The second the words left his mouth, he regretted them.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Minho’s expression change slightly, something flickering there, something Jisung couldn’t quite read.
Which meant Minho was probably about to ask a question. And Jisung absolutely did not want to answer it. So he pushed himself away from the counter before Minho could say anything.
“Well,” he said quickly, grabbing the mug, “I should get ready.”
He turned toward the hallway.
“Jisung.”
Minho’s voice stopped him for half a second.
Jisung’s shoulders stiffened slightly.
“…Yeah?”
He didn’t turn around.
There was a short pause.
Long enough that Jisung knew Minho was looking at him.
Trying to figure him out.
“…Nothing,” Minho said finally.
Jisung nodded once.
Then he walked out of the kitchen before Minho could change his mind and ask something he didn’t have answers for.
***
Jisung spent the next few days carefully avoiding Minho. The first time happened when they were in the practice room
Everyone was already warming up when Jisung arrived. Music played faintly from the speakers, and the room was full of pre-rehearsal chaos, someone stretching in the corner, someone else arguing about the choreography.
Minho was standing near the mirror.
Jisung noticed him immediately.
And without even thinking about it, Jisung chose a spot on the opposite side of the room.
Normally, he would have dropped his bag next to Minho’s. It had been their unofficial routine for years.
Today he didn’t.
He kept his head down, stretching quietly, pretending not to notice the brief glance Minho sent his way through the mirror.
A few minutes later, Minho wandered over.
Jisung saw it coming.
Before Minho even reached him, Jisung suddenly stood up.
“I’m gonna grab water,” he muttered to no one in particular.
Then he walked out of the room.
He didn’t miss the way Minho stopped halfway across the floor.
Jisung was exhausted. Everyone piled in after a long practice, tired and loud and half arguing about what to order for dinner.
Jisung normally sat next to Minho.
It had always just… happened that way.
But today, the second the van door slid open, Jisung slipped into the back seat next to Felix.
Felix looked mildly surprised but didn’t comment.
Minho got in last.
For a moment, Jisung felt his eyes lingering.
Just for a second.
Jisung stared very hard out the window like the parking lot was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.
The seat next to Minho stayed empty for a few seconds before someone else slid into it.
Jisung told himself not to care.
The third time happened in their living room.
Everyone was over to hangout and they were all sprawled around after dinner, half watching a show and half talking over it.
Jisung sat on the far end of the couch, laptop open on his knees, pretending to work on lyrics.
Across the room, Minho was leaning against the armchair.
At some point during the conversation, Minho said something that made everyone laugh.
Jisung laughed too.
But he didn’t look up.
Normally, he would have.
Normally, their eyes would have met automatically, sharing the joke without even needing to say anything.
Tonight, he kept his gaze fixed on the screen.
A few seconds later, he heard Minho’s voice again.
“Jisung.”
Jisung’s fingers paused on the keyboard.
“Yeah?”
He still didn’t look up.
“Come help me grab something from the kitchen.”
Jisung’s stomach tightened.
“I’m busy,” he said quickly.
There was a short pause.
Then Minho said, “You’re writing lyrics.”
“Yeah.”
“You can do that later.”
Jisung forced a small laugh.
“I’ll help in a minute.”
He didn’t.
Minho didn’t ask again.
But Jisung could feel the weight of his gaze from across the room for the rest of the night.
By the fourth day, Jisung had perfected the routine.
Leave early.
Come back late.
Stay busy.
Stay distracted.
Stay anywhere Minho wasn’t.
It worked surprisingly well.
At least, until it didn’t.
***
They were heading back to the dorm after a long schedule, the group walking through the company hallway toward the elevators.
Jisung was halfway through replying to a message on his phone when suddenly a hand grabbed his sleeve.
He barely had time to react before he was pulled to the side.
The hallway corner was quiet, just far enough from the others that their voices wouldn’t carry.
Jisung looked up.
Minho was standing in front of him. His expression was calm. Too calm.
“Okay,” Minho said.
Jisung blinked.
“Okay… what?”
“You need to tell me what’s going on.”
Jisung forced a confused look. “What’s going on?”
Minho stared at him. “You’re avoiding me.”
Jisung shook his head immediately. “No, I’m not.”
Minho’s jaw tightened.
“Jisung.”
“I’m not,” Jisung repeated.
For a second, Minho just looked at him.
Then his expression shifted, his patience snapping just enough for irritation to slip through.
“Quit fucking with me, Jisung,” he said sharply. “You are avoiding me.”
The words hit harder than Jisung expected.
He looked away.
“I’m just… not really in the right headspace lately.”
Minho frowned. “Then talk to me.”
Jisung didn’t respond.
Minho took a step closer.
“Why are you not able to talk to me?” he asked, his voice quieter now but still tense. “We’re best friends, right?”
Jisung’s chest tightened.
“I’ve barely seen you all week,” Minho continued. “You leave before I wake up. You come back after I go to sleep.”
He searched Jisung’s face.
“Jisung, what’s going on?”
Jisung stared at the floor.
“Why are you doing this?” Minho’s voice became impossibly soft, threatening to make Jisung’s chest burst.
The silence stretched.
Jisung swallowed.
Then he said quietly, “Because I realised something that I shouldn’t have.”
Minho blinked. “What?”
Jisung finally looked up.
Minho’s expression was completely serious now, confusion mixed with something else Jisung couldn’t quite name.
“What did you realise?” Minho asked.
Jisung opened his mouth. “I-”
“Hey!”
Both of them turned.
Hyunjin was jogging down the hallway toward them, waving his phone.
“There you guys are! The van’s leaving!”
The moment was shattered instantly.
Minho looked back at Jisung.
Jisung stepped away.
“We should go,” he muttered.
Before Minho could stop him, Jisung turned and walked back toward the others.
Leaving Minho standing there with more questions than answers.
***
The studio always felt different from the rest of the building.
Maybe it was the dim lighting, or the endless cables and equipment, or the fact that half of Jisung’s life seemed to exist inside these walls.
Normally, it was his safe place.
Today, it just felt like another room where he was tired.
Jisung slumped into the chair beside the mixing desk, rubbing his face with both hands.
Across the room, Changbin was scrolling through something on the computer while Chan leaned back in his chair, headphones resting around his neck.
They had been working for a while. Or at least they had tried to. Jisung had barely contributed anything. His mind kept drifting somewhere else.
Eventually Chan spoke, “Okay.”
Jisung looked up.
Chan was watching him, like he usually did before he started interrogating.
“What?” Jisung muttered.
Chan tilted his head.
“You wanna tell us what’s going on with you?”
Jisung blinked. “…What do you mean?”
Changbin turned around in his chair.
“You look like shit,” he said bluntly.
Jisung frowned. “Thanks.”
“I’m serious,” Changbin continued. “You’ve been weird for days.”
Chan nodded slightly.
“You don’t talk much at practice. You disappear after schedules. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
His voice softened a little. “Jisung, what’s going on?”
Jisung looked down at the floor. “I don’t know.”
Chan didn’t say anything.
Changbin didn’t either.
They just waited.
Jisung sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“I’ve just been feeling like shit the past few days.”
“That’s not an explanation,” Changbin said.
Jisung let out a tired laugh. “Yeah, I know.”
Another silence stretched across the room.
Then Chan said gently,
“You can talk to us.”
Jisung rubbed his hands over his face again.
The words had been stuck in his chest for days now, heavy and uncomfortable.
Maybe saying them out loud would make them easier.
Or maybe it would just make everything worse.
“…Do you remember what you guys said that night?” Jisung asked quietly.
Chan frowned slightly. “What night?”
“You know,” Jisung muttered. “The night everyone started saying that Minho and I would never work.”
Changbin snorted under his breath. “Oh.”
Chan exchanged a quick glance with him.
“So I kind of… did something stupid after that,” Jisung continued.
Chan leaned forward slightly.
“What kind of stupid?”
Jisung exhaled slowly.
“Well,” he said awkwardly, “Minho and I decided to… prove you guys wrong.”
Changbin’s eyebrows lifted. “Prove us wrong?”
“Yeah.” Jisung stared at the floor. “We decided to fake date.”
The words hung in the air.
Chan blinked.
Changbin blinked.
“…You did what?” Changbin asked.
Jisung groaned and dropped his head into his hands.
“I know it sounds stupid.”
Chan pressed his lips together, clearly trying very hard not to react too quickly.
“So let me get this straight,” Changbin said slowly. “You and Minho started fake dating… because we said you wouldn’t work as a couple?”
Jisung nodded miserably.
“We were trying to prove you wrong.”
There was a pause.
Then Changbin leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face. “Oh my god.”
Chan sighed loudly.
Jisung frowned, looking up. “What?”
Changbin looked at Chan.
Chan looked at Changbin.
Then they both looked at Jisung.
Like they were looking at the dumbest person alive.
“Jisung,” Chan said slowly.
“Yes?”
“That whole conversation that night…”
Jisung waited.
“…we did that on purpose.”
Jisung blinked.
“…What?”
Changbin groaned. “For god’s sake.”
“What do you mean on purpose?” Jisung asked, completely lost.
Chan leaned back in his chair with a deep sigh.
“Because the two of you are idiots.”
Jisung stared at him. “…Excuse me?”
“You and Minho,” Changbin said, pointing between them like the answer should be obvious. “You’ve been dancing around each other for years.”
Jisung frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Chan rubbed his temple “We were tired of watching it.”
“Watching what?”
“The tension,” Changbin said. “The pining. The obvious feelings you both refuse to acknowledge.”
Jisung stared at him like he didn’t register any of it.
Chan continued calmly,
“So we came up with a plan.”
Jisung’s brain was struggling to catch up.
“A plan?”
“Yes,” Changbin said.
“To convince you two that you’d be terrible together,” Chan finished, “so you’d finally realise you actually like each other.”
Jisung’s mouth fell open. “…What?”
“We thought reverse psychology would work,” Changbin muttered.
Chan sighed again.
“In theory, it was supposed to push you toward each other.”
Jisung blinked several times.
“…Instead, it pushed you into an existential crisis.”
Jisung sat there, completely stunned.
“So wait,” he said slowly. “You guys… don’t actually think we’d be bad together?”
Chan and Changbin looked at each other again.
Then they both groaned at the same time.
“Jisung,” Changbin said, exasperated.
“For god’s sake.”
“We think you two are basically soulmates,” Chan added.
Jisung’s brain stopped functioning. “What?”
“It’s been obvious for years,” Changbin continued. “You look at each other like you would do anything for each other.”
“You fight like a married couple,” Chan added.
“And you’re always together.”
Jisung stared at them.
“…What?”
Changbin pointed at him again.
“YOU. BOTH. ARE. IDIOTS.”
Jisung leaned back in his chair, his thoughts spinning wildly.
“So… you guys think… we actually…”
“Yes,” Chan said simply.
Jisung blinked.
“But Minho doesn’t-”
“Oh my god,” Changbin muttered.
“Jisung,” Chan said patiently, “have you considered the possibility that Minho might like you too?”
Jisung stared at him.
“…No.”
Changbin dropped his head onto the desk. “I can’t do this.”
Chan sighed. “Jisung.”
“What?”
“You should tell him.”
Jisung shook his head immediately.
“I don’t think he likes me like that.”
Chan stared at him.
Then he leaned forward and pointed directly at him. “Jisung.”
“Yes?”
“Stop being an idiot and go tell him.”
Jisung hesitated.
His brain was still spinning.
Everything suddenly felt upside down.
“…You really think-”
“Yes,” Changbin groaned.
“Yes,” Chan confirmed.
Jisung sat there for another second.
Then suddenly he stood up.
“So I should just… go?”
“Yes,” Chan said.
“Right now?” Jisung asked.
“Yes,” Changbin said.
Jisung nodded quickly. “Okay.”
Then he turned and ran for the door. Changbin and Chan watched him leave. The door slammed shut.
Silence filled the studio.
Changbin leaned back in his chair.
“…Do you think he’ll actually do it?”
Chan stared at the closed door.
Then he smiled slightly.
“I hope so.”
***
Jisung didn’t remember the run from the studio to the practice room.
Only that he had run.
Down the hallway, past the elevators, past two confused staff members, past the vending machine where Hyunjin once got his hand stuck, none of it registered. His brain was a single, blaring thought:
You have to tell him.
His hand hit the practice room door and shoved it open.
The music inside cut off mid-beat.
Minho stood near the mirror, phone still in his hand, where he’d clearly just paused the track. His hair was damp with sweat, loose strands sticking to his forehead. He blinked once, clearly startled.
“…Jisung?”
Jisung was bent over slightly, hands on his knees, trying to breathe.
Minho’s expression shifted almost immediately.
Concern.
“Hey,” he said, softer now. “What happened?”
Jisung straightened but didn’t answer.
Minho stepped closer.
“You look like you ran a marathon,” he said, studying his face. “Is everything okay?”
There was something tired about Minho’s voice. Something small and heavy sitting behind the calm.
Jisung noticed it immediately.
And somehow that made everything worse.
“The members,” Jisung blurted.
Minho frowned.
“…What about them?”
Jisung pointed vaguely back toward the hallway, as if the members might materialise if he gestured hard enough.
“They- we were in the studio, and I- and Chan asked what was wrong and then I told Chan and Bin everything, like everything everything, about the fake dating and about the stupid bet and about trying to prove them wrong and how this whole thing is a disaster and-”
Minho blinked slowly.
“Jisung.”
“And then they told me they set us up!” Jisung continued, words tumbling over each other. “The whole thing, the night they said we’d be terrible together, they did it on purpose because they thought we were dancing around each other, and apparently everyone thinks we’re soulmates, which is insane and crazy and-”
Minho stared.
“They… what?”
“They said they only did it so we’d realise we like each other!” Jisung said helplessly. “But that’s not even the worst part because then I realised I do like you, which is- which is not helpful at all because now everything is confusing and-”
“Jisung.”
“And I thought maybe you already knew or maybe you didn’t, and maybe you never liked me like that anyway, and I’ve just been ruining our friendship for the past month because I thought fake dating was a good idea and-”
“Jisung.”
“And you always say we’re best friends and that’s great, that’s amazing, best friends are important, but I don’t think best friends are supposed to feel like their chest is imploding every time the other one smiles at them and-”
“Jisung.”
“And I didn’t think you’d like me back like that because why would you, you’re Lee Minho, and I’m-”
“Han Jisung.”
“-me, and now the members think we’re soulmates and I just ran all the way here like an idiot, and I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say to you because-”
“Jisung.”
Jisung finally stopped to breathe.
Minho was staring at him.
Not annoyed.
Not amused.
Just… staring.
Jisung opened his mouth again.
“Jisung.”
“…Yeah?”
Minho inhaled slowly.
“Will you just fucking shut up for a second?”
Jisung snapped his mouth closed immediately. Silence filled the practice room. For the first time since bursting in, Jisung actually looked at Minho properly.
Minho looked… wrecked.
His jaw was tight, eyes dark with something Jisung couldn’t immediately read.
And then Minho said it.
“I love you.”
Jisung’s brain stopped.
Minho ran a hand through his hair like the words had been trapped in his chest for too long.
“God,” he muttered, voice rough. “I fucking love you.”
Jisung just stared.
“…I’ve been in love with you for years,” Minho continued, looking almost frustrated now. “And this past month, this fake dating thing, has been killing me.”
Jisung blinked. “Killing you?”
“Yes,” Minho said flatly. “Because I thought you would never actually want to date me.”
His jaw tightened slightly before he continued.
“So when you suggested fake dating… I figured that was your way of saying real dating wasn’t even an option.”
Jisung’s heart dropped.
“I thought it was the most ridiculous idea I had ever heard,” Minho said, exhaling quietly.
Jisung stared at him.
“…Then why did you agree?”
Minho looked at him like the answer had always been obvious.
“Because I would do anything for you.”
The words landed softly between them.
“And if fake dating, you meant I got even a small piece of you,” Minho said quietly, “then I would take it.”
Jisung’s chest tightened.
“Oh,” he said faintly.
Minho rubbed the back of his neck like he’d just unloaded something heavy he’d been carrying for years.
Jisung dragged both hands down his face.
“Oh my god,” he groaned. “We’re stupid.”
Minho huffed a quiet laugh.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think we are.”
Jisung peeked at him.
“…Now what?”
Minho tilted his head.
“Well,” he said slowly, “if you’re done with your crazy ideas…”
He stepped closer.
“…would you like to date for real?”
Jisung blinked.
“Really?”
Minho stared at him for a long moment.
Then he muttered, “God, you’re an idiot.”
And kissed him.
The world did something strange when Minho kissed him.
It felt like every nerve in Jisung’s body lit up all at once, warm and electric and overwhelming in the best possible way. His stomach flipped, butterflies exploding everywhere, and he grabbed Minho’s shirt instinctively just to stay grounded.
Minho’s hand slid to his waist, steady and warm.
The kiss was soft but certain, like something they had both been holding back for far too long.
It tasted like relief.
Like finally coming home.
When they pulled apart, Jisung was breathless again.
But this time he was grinning.
Wide. Disbelieving.
“We could have been doing that,” he said faintly.
Minho raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he said.
Then, pointedly:
“Only if we weren’t fake dating.”
Jisung groaned and buried his face in Minho’s shoulder.
“Oh my god, stop,” he said. “That’s so embarrassing. I can’t believe I was that stupid.”
Minho chuckled, thumb brushing absentmindedly against Jisung’s sleeve.
“Well,” he said, “at least it got us here.”
Jisung lifted his head from Minho’s shoulder, still a little dazed.
“Still,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t believe the members did that.”
Minho snorted. “Right?”
There was a brief pause.
Then Minho’s expression shifted.
It was subtle. Just a small tilt of his head. A glint in his eyes that Jisung had seen many times before, usually right before Minho did something that caused absolute chaos.
Jisung narrowed his eyes immediately.
“…What?”
Minho looked thoughtful.
“Well,” he said slowly, “we were fake dating before.”
Jisung nodded.
“…Yeah.”
Minho’s mouth curved slightly.
“So instead of fake dating…”
He leaned a little closer.
“…we could try something else this time.”
Jisung blinked.
“What?”
Minho didn’t answer immediately.
He just looked at him.
And smiled.
Jisung stared at him for a moment.
Then his eyes widened. “Oh.”
A slow grin spread across his face.
Minho’s smile widened.
Jisung pointed at him accusingly. “You’re evil.”
Minho shrugged. “You love me.”
Jisung huffed.
“…Unfortunately.”
But he leaned forward and kissed him again anyway.
***
Two days later, the members had gathered in their dorm’s living again, yet again.
Felix was on the couch watching something on his phone. Hyunjin was painting his nails at the table. Changbin was arguing with Chan about protein powder.
And then the door slammed open.
Jisung stormed in.
Minho followed right behind him.
“Unbelievable!” Jisung snapped.
“Oh, please,” Minho shot back immediately. “You’re the unbelievable one.”
The room went silent.
Six heads turned slowly.
“…What’s happening?” Hyunjin whispered.
Jisung threw his hands in the air.
“You know what? I’m done.”
“Good,” Minho said coldly. “Because dating you was the worst mistake of my life.”
Felix gasped.
Chan choked on air.
“W-Wait-” Changbin sat up straight. “What do you mean dating?”
Minho pointed at Jisung dramatically. “This guy! This guy never folds his clothes!”
Jisung scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry, should I apologise for not living up to your impossible standards?”
“My standards are basic human decency!”
“You purposely put extra spice in my ramen because you know I couldn’t handle it!”
“THE PACKET SAID EXTRA SPICY! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!”
“YOU’RE A LIAR, IT CAN’T BE THAT SPICY!”
The members stared in horror.
Hyunjin’s nail polish brush froze mid-air.
“Guys,” Chan said cautiously. “Maybe we should calm down-”
“No!” Jisung said immediately.
“No!” Minho said at the same time.
Changbin stood up in full panic mode.
“Okay, hold on. Hold on. Let’s talk this out.”
“There’s nothing to talk about!” Jisung snapped.
Minho crossed his arms. “Finally, we agree on something.”
Felix looked like he was about to cry.
“You guys were doing so well…” he whispered.
“We were not doing well!” Jisung said.
“Dating him was a nightmare,” Minho added.
“A nightmare?!” Jisung shouted. “You were the one who gave me a hickey when we had schedule the next day!”
“You liked it!”
“I DID NOT!”
“You absolutely did!”
Seungmin was holding his head now.
“Oh my god,” he muttered.
Jeongin looked like he was ready to call emergency services.
“No, no, no,” he said quickly. “You two are clearly just emotional right now-”
“Emotional?” Minho said.
“Yes!” Hyunjin said desperately. “So maybe we should all sit down-”
“No,” Jisung said.
“Yes,” Minho said.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“NO.”
“YES.”
“GUYS!” Changbin yelled.
The room fell silent.
Everyone stared at them.
Jisung looked at Minho.
Minho looked at Jisung.
There was a beat.
Then Jisung snorted. Minho tried to hold it in.
He failed.
The two of them burst out laughing. Like, completely lost it. Jisung doubled over. Minho leaned against the wall, shaking with laughter.
The rest of the members stared.
Completely frozen.
“…What,” Chan said slowly.
Jisung wiped tears from his eyes. “Oh my god,” he wheezed. “Your faces-”
Minho was still laughing.
Felix blinked.
“…You’re not breaking up?”
Minho wrapped an arm around Jisung’s shoulders casually.
“Nope.”
Seungmin stared. “…Then what the hell was that?”
Jisung grinned.
“Revenge.”
Six voices shouted at once.
“REVENGE?!”
Everyone looked completely betrayed.
“You traumatised us!”
“You deserved it!” Jisung said cheerfully.
Hyunjin pointed dramatically at them. “You’re evil.”
Minho shrugged. “Learned from the best.”
Felix looked between them slowly. “…So you both are dating, right?”
Jisung nodded happily. “Yep.”
Minho squeezed his shoulder. “For real this time.”
Chan groaned and buried his face in his hands. “We created monsters.”
Jeongin sighed. “This is our fault.”
Seungmin nodded solemnly. “We should have let them stay clueless.”
Jisung leaned against Minho with a grin.
Minho pressed a quick kiss to his hair.
And honestly?
It had absolutely been worth it.