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Seokmin starts dreaming about Joshua long before he even realizes that’s what it is.
The first time it happens, it hits him like a crashing wave—thrashing and unexpected. It’s soft, so unbelievably soft that it leaves Seokmin grasping for whatever remnants were left behind in his mind. It fills Seokmin with an unprecedented warmth—cozy and sultry—that he almost doesn't want to leave his covers in order to stay toasty.
But it's strange—extremely strange. He’s never felt so homely during a dream, and he’s definitely never felt so despondent after a dream ends. It was so damn weird. Yet, he can’t help but still feel the lingering sensations of such a pleasant dream.
In the dream, the sun’s rays spill through Seokmin’s window—an obvious sign of the curtains not being fully closed. The next thing Seokmin realizes is that he’s warm, his body is warm despite hearing his AC pushing out cold air through the vents.
He feels the air graze his lower half and Seokmin winces internally at the gush of cold air hitting his skin. Seokmin then feels faint breaths against his neck, as well as the prickling sensation in his arm from where it was wrapped around something. He soon realizes that someone is snuggled up against him, and it’s the same person who was making Seokmin feel so hot.
Seokmin slowly lets his eyes open, letting them adjust to the bright light seeping into his room. He was already getting ready to wake the person who was hogging the cover, and who was deep in his personal space, to get out of his bed as well to close the curtain.
When Seokmin’s eyes fully adjust to the morning light—he looks down to see who exactly his mind had fabricated.
Seokmin feels all the air in his lungs escape as soon as he does.
The preparator—the same person who was like Seokmin’s personal heater; the same person who was stealing all of Seokmin’s cover; the same person who was cuddled into Seokmin’s personal space—was no other than Joshua.
Joshua.
Joshua. Hong.
His hyung.
Seokmin forgets how to breathe for a moment. Seeing Joshua in his bed was certainly the last thing he expected. Why had his mind fabricated this pleasant and summery dream with his hyung of all people? Why couldn’t his mind just create a random person that he’d never see in passing?
Seokmin’s mind races at ungodly speeds. The pure shock of it all was enough to render Seokmin speechless; the words that were brewing in his mouth now seemingly clawing at Seokmin’s throat—thrashing to get out.
But Seokmin can’t. He can't say anything. He can't tell Joshua to leave. Even if this was a dream, he couldn’t allow himself to wake up Joshua and tell him to get out of his bed. It was almost like telling the real Joshua to “fuck off.” (Not like this would ever happen in real life, but that's not the point.)
Seokmin watches Joshua’s chest rise and fall with each breath he takes. He takes note of how Joshua’s face is slightly puffy with evident sleepiness. He notices how his bed hair sticks up in different directions, yet still looks like it was disheveled in perfectly curated strokes. He notices the way Joshua’s long lashes press against his cheeks.
Up close, Seokmin can see every little detail of Joshua’s face that he never bothered to notice in real life. It almost makes him feel guilty for never paying closer attention to Joshua’s facial features—the man was gorgeous.
Seokmin notices his perfectly shaped eyebrows; the slope of Joshua’s nose and how boopable it looked; his prominent aegyo sal; and his puffy, full lips that looked oh so soft—
Before Seokmin can even register what he's doing—he leans in and presses a kiss to Joshua’s forehead. A slow, languid press of lips to skin; tender and amorous. Once Seokmin does, he immediately jolts away from Joshua like he had been burned by the sun itself.
Seokmin’s mind begins to race once again. An alarming amount of thoughts begin to form in his brain—running around rampant while leaving a trail of disconcert in its wake.
This was so weird. So damn weird. Seokmin needed to get out of this dream. He had to before anything else happened. Fuck. He should’ve forced himself to wake up when he first realized Shua-hyung was the person snuggled up in his bed for God's sake. This must be an invasion of privacy on his hyung’s behalf. Right?
Wait— Don’t panic, Seokmin. Everything is fine. You’re overreacting. This doesn't mean anything—it only does if you continue reading in between nonexistent lines. Dreams are illogical. Your mind fabricates your desires with the last thing that you remember before going to sleep. Yeah! That’s it.
It’s not like he thinks about Joshua like that. No. Not at all.
Seokmin is brought out of his thoughts when he feels Joshua shift in his arms. His gaze settles back on Joshua’s face, and he watches as he slowly stirs awake. His eyes open slowly, still hazy with sleep; he blinks leisurely before he smiles up at Seokmin.
“Mornin’,” Joshua murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
Seokmin wakes up before he can even answer.
The next time it happens, Seokmin still feels unprepared—severely unprepared.
It’s not like he expected to dream about Joshua a second time—he hadn't even expected it the first time! No matter how stupidly warm and domestic the first dream was—he’d never want to willingly dream about his hyung like that. It was weird—was Seokmin involuntarily a pervert?
This time, Seokmin and Joshua are in the movie theater. He doesn't know what movie they were currently watching, it was probably some new movie that had piqued Joshua’s interest, and like clockwork, he invited Seokmin along.
Usually, Seokmin would enjoy going to the theater to see a movie with Joshua—late at night, reclusive, just the two of them. It was their thing, and Seokmin had grown to love the serenity of having Joshua at his side—peacefully watching the big screen while hearing Seokmin’s occasional comment.
Usually, he would enjoy their movie outings, but this wasn't their usual outing. This was Seokmin’s mind fabricating an outing with Joshua for whatever reason. Maybe it was the pent-up frustration that was brewing in Seokmin’s mind after the past couple of movie outings with his hyung had been cancelled. Maybe it was the fact that Seokmin desperately longed for one of their movie hangouts after a crazed schedule. Maybe it was because a new movie came out—a movie that both of them had waited anxiously for—only for them to not have any space in their schedule to go see it on opening night. Who knows.
Seokmin now finds himself next to Joshua. He’s saying something, but Seokmin hadn't paid attention to the words escaping his mouth—too preoccupied with his own thoughts to even listen.
He vaguely catches the phrases, “Thank you for agreeing on this,” and, “I know this isn’t your usual scene, but this means a lot to me.” This catches Seokmin off guard. Not his usual scene? Since when is coming to the movie theater with Joshua not his usual scene? They always come together.
Seokmin has to bite back a groan. If he was going to dream about Joshua and their real-life plans (which still made him feel uneasy), the least his brain could do was make it accurate!
Suddenly, the already dim lights turn off completely, and the ads that had been playing in the background stop. The movie screen starts playing the specific movie’s studio—Blumhouse—and that name sounds very familiar for whatever reason, but Seokmin doesn't have half the mind to dig in his brain and pinpoint where exactly he had heard that name before.
Before he knows it, the preface of the movie begins. On the screen, the number 1982 appears in bright yellow, it then disappears and the camera fixes on a girl with pigtails who’s sitting in front of a stage that has a trapdoor for whatever reason.
A little girl with blond hair comes up to the girl with pigtails, asking why she’s still sitting there instead of hanging out with the other kids. The little girl says how “she” will come out any minute now and was waiting for her. The little blonde girl won't fess up; instead, she mentions how she could come back later when she finally comes out.
That seemed to convince the little girl, but she was still evidently uneasy and restless. The next scenes show the little girl with pigtails sitting at a table with other kids, but none of them talk to her. It was almost like she was an outcast at a children’s party—a place where family and friends come to be together.
Her gaze stays fixated on the stage, seemingly waiting for her friend to come out of the trapdoor, so she could make her escape from such an uncomfortable place. That was until something else caught her gaze, a tall yellow bunny with blue glowing eyes muffling a little boy's screams as it dragged the boy behind authorized personnel doors.
Immediately, the girl springs into action. She tries to tell the adults around her that a little boy had been kidnapped. That they needed to do something, they needed to help the little boy. Who knows what the yellow rabbit would do to the boy? They had to do something and they had to do something now.
Except that none of the adults paid attention to her. They all told her the same thing. “It was a product of your imagination sweetie.” “I’m busy sweetie, go bother someone else.” “Sweetie, can you not see that this is a lively place?”
No one wanted to do anything for the little boy, and she took that to heart. Well, if the adults weren’t going to do anything—the ones that were in charge, the ones who placed order, the ones who were supposed to protect them—she’d take their place as the boy's defender.
So, she starts to tread towards the doors, mind already made up; until she’s stopped by the little blond-haired girl. She warns her not to go in there, that she doesn't know what’s behind there—she doesn't want to know what's behind there. The girl with pigtails doesn't pay her any attention; someone had to do something and it happened to be her.
The girl with pigtails rips her wrist from the other girl's hold and she walks through the doors, and immediately the atmosphere changes. The falsely fabricated lively laughter is now a faint echo in the background; now, all that surrounds the girl is darkness with the flickering of blue light.
The place was eerie and creepy. Seokmin could feel the way the place felt suffocating and ominous despite not actually being in the same room. The little girl begins to tread carefully and quietly through the narrow hallway. She glances around, taking in her surroundings, careful not to make a sound.
She makes her way towards a half-open door, and that's when she sees it. The yellow bunny. It was washing its hands. But it wasn't entirely a yellow bunny. It was a man inside a yellow bunny suit. It whistled as it washed its hands, and the little girl hurriedly hid behind some metal containers.
The little girl takes a closer look at her surroundings and that's when she sees the little boy on the floor, and a knife on the counter. That’s when it clicks for the little girl—her countenance shifting to something more frightened and bone-chilling.
The little girl takes a peek above the metal containers and notices that the rabbit was gone. She wastes no time in grabbing the little boy in her arms and starts running towards the exit.
Then, the yellow rabbit comes from around the corner. He had seen the little girl take the boy and run. Almost like he always knew she was there and was waiting to strike.
Seokmin then realizes what Joshua meant ten minutes ago, when he was thanking him for agreeing on the movie they would see tonight, despite it not being his usual scene.
It was honestly embarrassing how long it took him to realize what Joshua was talking about. The whole five minutes of this film were setting up the atmosphere of textbook horror. And he's only now figuring it out when the killer was about to strike.
How had his brain fabricated an entire dream of watching a horror movie with Joshua of all things? Why had his brain set him up for such discomfort? This must be a cruel prank that was being played on him. (Except he knew it wasn't and he was involuntarily being made to watch this movie.)
To say that Seokmin was not a fan of horror was a complete understatement.
Seokmin was not a fan of horror. He couldn’t say he despised it. If he weren't so chicken-hearted; he’d definitely see himself enjoying this movie with Joshua. Sadly, he was tender-hearted and sensitive, and he could already feel the unease and anxiety starting to form in his stomach.
He just had to remember that none of this was real. That the jump scares were just that—jump scares. He had to seem unfazed by them; he couldn’t seem like a wuss in front of his hyung. He would never let himself live it down despite everything being a dream. It was all a movie, it was all a movie, it was all a movie—
Suddenly, Joshua’s hand made its way to the back of his head and pulled him towards him. Seokmin froze up, not having expected Joshua to realize his inner turmoil. Had his fright been that obvious? Shit. He didn't want to ruin the movie for Shua-hyung! He didn't deserve to deal with Seokmin’s overreaction.
Except, that was the complete opposite of what Joshua was thinking. “It’s alright, Minnie,” Joshua said softly, “It’s just a movie. None of this is real.”
Seokmin couldn’t say anything in reply. He feared that if he did, all that would come out was a shaky shriek at the close proximity that dream Joshua had forced on him.
Seokmin couldn’t even think. Every thought his mind had already started concocting dissipated at the first breath he took in. All he could smell was Joshua; the smell of his cologne—smooth wood and soft spices completely wrapping around him; the smell of his detergent—sweet and fresh; the body wash he used—woody with a lingering smell of floral. Just Joshua, Joshua, Joshua—
And Joshua only adds more fuel to the fire. He continues to caress the back of his head so tenderly and lovingly that it makes something in Seokmin’s chest flip; then he whispers reassuring words into his ear, “Everything is fine, Minnie. Hyung is here.” “I’m sorry for picking this movie, Minnie.” “Focus on my breathing, Minnie.” Minnie, Minnie, Minnie— And something in his stomach flutters.
Seokmin wakes up with the lingering presence of a hand at the back of his head and the heat of words being said into his ear.
The third time Seokmin dreams about Joshua, he feels slightly more prepared for it, but nonetheless, is still taken aback.
This time, Seokmin was at the airport. Its high ceilings surrounded him for what seemed like miles, and its harsh lighting reflected against the polished floors. He could faintly smell the aroma of caffeine from a nearby cafe.
Passersbys came and went with the clicking and clacking of their suitcase wheels on tile. The robotic announcements were playing from every corner of the airport with the roar of engines in the distance.
It seemed like Seokmin was waiting for Joshua. That was the most logical conclusion Seokmin could come up with. He never really picked Joshua up from the airport when he went abroad—he had staff for that, although he wouldn't mind seeing Joshua’s face first thing when he arrived back home.
Seokmin waited patiently for Joshua to walk through the arrival gate, hands tucked deep into his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels. How come he wasn't holding a sign that said, “Welcome Home!” That always happened in the movies and in real life, so why not in his dream?
And speaking of dream— If Seokmin was honest, for all of this being a dream—it all seemed real, a little too real. It was almost as if this was all a possibility, like these scenarios that Seokmin’s mind was fabricating could, indeed, happen.
It was crazy to think about. Hypothetically, Seokmin could be picking up Joshua from the airport when he comes back from LA. He could be the first thing Joshua sees when walking through the arrival gate, but would Joshua even want that? Would Seokmin even want to do that?
And despite everything seeming a little too real—like a parallel universe for the decisions that they never seem to make, none of this could be actually happening, right? Those things only ever happen in fiction, definitely not in a man’s dreams whenever his hyung seems to be so close yet so far that it leaves Seokmin with a vacant spot in his heart in the shape of a Joshua Hong.
Seokmin shook his head, snapping out his thoughts. He looked at the digital board listing all the arriving flights. He scans it, trying to find Joshua’s and when he does—his heart rate picks up at the “Flight landed” next to it.
Seokmin can feel his heart thud—a mix of nerves and anticipation. He was so excited to see Joshua again, warmth and eagerness filled him from head to toe. But the feeling quickly died down when reality hit him: this wasn't his Joshua, it was dream Joshua.
This was the version of Joshua his mind conjured up. Dream Joshua was nothing but a figment of Seokmin’s mind that had appeared out of thin air one random night, and now wouldn't get out of his head.
Seokmin had to remind himself that dream Joshua wasn't his Joshua. The real Joshua was still in LA, who was having a blast at events—laughing and networking, the one who was posing at multiple different campaigns, the one who wasn't coming back until later in the week.
Before he could continue his brooding, the arrival doors slid open with a soft whirr. Passengers started to come out in waves, dragging suitcases, stretching their limbs, and greeting loved ones.
Seokmin scanned the crowd, trying to find the person that mattered the most to him right now despite everything being a dream.
That’s when Seokmin sees him.
Joshua. Or at least his dream counterpart.
His hair was tousled, yet somehow looked perfect under the airport's harsh lighting—dark strands falling over his forehead in a way that made Seokmin’s breath catch. He wore a hoodie that was a little too big for his frame, the sleeves engulfed his hands, but still looked warm and comfy.
But all Seokmin could think about was—He was back home.
“Hyung!” Seokmin called out to him, the word escaping from Seokmin’s mouth before he could even contemplate it. It echoed loud enough for people to hear, and a few of them gave Seokmin a weird look but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Joshua was standing right in front of him, even if everything was just a dream.
Before he knew it, Seokmin’s body started to move. Feet pounding against the polished floor, his heart racing with a mix of disbelief and longing. And Joshua ran too, abandoning his suitcase in the midst of the crowd, weaving through people with an unrestrained grin that matched his own.
They collided in the middle of the terminal, and Seokmin let his arms wrap around Joshua’s waist, lifting him off the ground. Seokmin spun him in a full, dizzying twirl. Joshua’s hands clung to his shoulders, laughter spilling out of him which only made Seokmin’s mind spin even more.
When Seokmin finally slowed, Joshua’s forehead pressed lightly against his. “You came,” he whispered in disbelief, yet full of affection.
And all Seokmin could do was stare at Joshua’s, deep brown eyes. Eyes that were filled with so much love and adoration that Seokmin couldn’t do anything but admire—admire how Joshua was all that he could see despite being in a room filled with hundreds of people, admire his beauty up close—how every detail of his face was so vivid he wanted to photograph it and frame it, admire how these late night escapades filled his chest with an unnamable feeling he couldn’t quite figure out, but loved a little too much.
Seokmin wakes up, gasping for air.
And it just keeps happening.
It wasn't every night, but it was often enough that Seokmin had already prepared himself for a dream he unwillingly fell into.
It felt wrong to say, and it was probably wrong to say—at least morally, but Seokmin had started to get used to the dreams. And if he was being totally honest, he even enjoyed some of them.
Every dream filled him with a different kind of emotion that he never expected to feel, especially for his hyung. Yes, he’s always cared for Joshua, even felt extremely close with the older—but he never knew a world could exist where he felt such an intense affinity for his hyung.
It was weird, but a good weird.
In every dream, a new emotion would awaken and open up doors Seokmin never thought he’d step through. He’d feel a sense of warmth all throughout his body, then be deeply reassured, or an immense sense of euphoria.
Joshua was awakening parts of Seokmin that he never thought he’d feel, and it was scary to think about. This was all occurring in his mind—all conjured up by his deepest, suppressed desires, and Joshua was the face to arouse these feelings.
Seokmin wasn't complaining, he found it comforting knowing it's his most trusted hyung unlocking aspects of Seokmin he never would’ve known existed. Except for the gnawing fact, this was all happening in his mind.
Joshua had no idea that this was happening. The real Joshua was clueless that he had stirred new emotions in Seokmin’s life. If he ever found out, God, Seokmin would die of embarrassment. Shua-hyung would definitely find him weird and never interact with him the same again.
But it's not like he hasn’t tried to stop dreaming of Joshua—he has, he really, really has. But it's almost like an external force wouldn't let his mind stop conjuring up fake scenarios in his mind and plaster Joshua’s face to the body that lived the script with him.
All Seokmin could do was suck it up. The dreams would probably stop when Seokmin unlocks every different emotion possible that has been locked behind his mind for years without him knowing, or something else—but they would stop, at least he hopes so soon enough. (Or not.)
So, with that Seokmin lets the dreams continue.
Sometimes they’re walking through the quiet streets of Seoul at night with Joshua’s fingers laced through his, warm and steady.
Sometimes they’re sitting on Seokmin’s apartment couch, eating instant ramen straight from the pot while Joshua laughs at something Seokmin said.
Sometimes they’re lying in Seokmin’s bed, Joshua’s head resting against Seokmin’s chest as he listens to his heartbeat while Seokmin runs his hand against Joshua’s shoulder.
Tonight, Joshua is sitting at the edge of his bed while Seokmin strums his guitar, patiently waiting for the cover Seokmin would play in a few moments.
Seokmin decides he’d play Joshua a love song. Well, not an actual love song, it was far from that. It was filled with longing for a person and sweet, sweet admiration; but lying underneath that esteem, bittersweet feelings wrapped around the edges of the lyrics, and unrequited love evident enough that you can't escape it—even in your dreams.
It wasn't a love song, but a tragic song about a person only loving you back in your dreams, which was pretty devastatingly romantic.
God. He was losing it.
Joshua sits at the edge of his bed, patiently waiting for Seokmin to start strumming the strings of his guitar and sing him a cover of Red Velvet’s, “In My Dreams.” (It was pretty amusing knowing there was a song that fit their—Seokmin’s—current predicament. Except that Seokmin didn't have romantic feelings for Joshua. His mind just happened to fabricate intimate scenarios with his hyung.)
But hypothetically, why else would Seokmin be having dreams with Joshua almost regularly? At first, he chalked it up as dreams being illogical—they never really meant anything unless you started digging into the actual cause for it.
The first time it happened, he had been longing for human companionship. It was one of those nights when he wished he could settle down quietly with his significant other, and live a life of domestic bliss. Obviously, that couldn’t happen, he was too busy with his career, and dating in the industry was severely looked down upon—he and his partner would never have quality time for the both of them.
Before he had gone to sleep, he had talked to his hyung about it. How he sometimes wishes he had a different life, so he could finally live a peaceful life with his partner and eventually have a family with them. Seokmin remembers the way Joshua stayed quiet, listening to his rant on how sometimes their career was unfair, and he wished he could be selfish for once without the repercussions.
So, when he dreamed with Joshua, body flushed against his, in his bed—he rationalized it as Seokmin’s subconscious yearning for companionship. An unfulfilled desire for romance and intimacy that he’d probably won't see anytime soon in their line of work.
Then, it just kept happening. And with every dream, a new emotion would surge in his chest, would pool in his stomach, crawl at his throat—it was almost suffocating, but so, so affable that Seokmin never wanted to wake up from the bliss.
When he’d wake, he would still feel the lingering remnants of the dream—the way Joshua held his hand, the way Joshua laughed at his dumb joke, the way Joshua stared at him like he was in love.
And for whatever reason—he couldn’t get that out of his head. All he could think about recently was how Joshua stared at him; full of admiration, fondness, adoration. Like Joshua wasn't only looking at his eyes, but at his heart—like he could visually see the way Seokmin’s heart thumped erratically behind his ribs.
And then he’d smile like he knew what he was doing to Seokmin—like he took pride in unknowingly bringing down Seokmin’s walls; rendering him useless, rendering him into a mushy, sappy, lovesick fool with Joshua’s soft gaze and even more impossibly soft smile—the kind that he only ever used with him and not the fake, practiced one he wore in public.
And now having Joshua sitting at the foot of his bed, patiently waiting for him to start singing—singing the most la douleur exquise song he had ever heard that perfectly fit their—his—situation right now makes Seokmin’s breath hitch, and suddenly it's like the walls are caving in on him. He feels his chest tighten uncomfortably, and his throat starts to close up on him, making air inaccessible to him.
But Seokmin can't stop staring at Joshua, at his dark locks that frame his face in way that makes him look so gentle and youthful; at his rich dark brown eyes that Seokmin could lose himself in in an indefinite maze; at the slope of his nose and how he could reach over and ‘boop’ it; at his plump, pretty pink lips and how they might taste underneath his. It’s all Joshua, Joshua, Joshua—
Oh.
Oh.
While staring at Joshua, and at his beauty that seems to lessen the load of his panic. Seokmin comes to the absolutely devastating and irreversible realization that he has fallen for Joshua.
Seokmin likes Joshua. Not just the dreams, but the person he actively sees almost every night when he falls asleep. The person who was only supposed to show up once in his subconscious and not almost damn every night.
Seokmin likes Joshua. As in like-like. Not in the way friends like each other; showing genuine appreciation, offering support during difficult times, and celebrating their successes. Seokmin had crossed that line since he had Joshua in his arms, sleeping soundly pressed against his chest like he always belonged there.
No. Seokmin likes Joshua. Like his heart doing an embarrassing amount of somersaults in his chest just because Joshua was staring at him and he looked absolutely ravishing with his oversized hoodie, tousled hair, and small, encouraging smile.
And it was absolutely terrible. So damn terrible. It was the worst thing that could’ve happened to Seokmin, and he's faced a lot of awful things during his life.
He couldn’t like Joshua. He absolutely couldn’t.
Joshua was… Joshua. He was naturally beautiful, so damn pretty that Seokmin always found himself admiring his hyung in these dreams. And Joshua was way too kind for his own good which made Seokmin mad that he allowed people to do what they pleased with him. And God was Joshua understanding and patient, he never raised his voice and always took a careful approach whenever dealing with their antics.
Joshua was just so effortlessly lovable that people were naturally drawn to him like a magnetic force that inevitably drew you in. There were definitely a hundred other people who were lining up for a chance of dating Joshua because who wouldn't want to date Joshua? They must be a fool to ever pass up someone like Joshua, he was the kind of person you only ever meet once in your life, so if you had a Joshua, you must appreciate the impact they have in your life.
And Seokmin was just… Seokmin.
The loud one. The goofy one. The one who was always way too cheery, so much so that he was nicknamed “happy virus.” The guy who sang at every given opportunity. The one who laughed too hard and way too noisily.
The one who sometimes still struggled with his sense of self-worth. The one who was way too sensitive despite always having a bright front up. The one who criticized himself the most. The one who lived in an endless battle of comparison and validation.
He wasn't the kind of person someone like Joshua would fall for.
Definitely not.
Seokmin wakes up in a cold sweat, the ghost feeling of string beneath his fingers, and the words of a song he never got to perform clawing at his throat—prickling and burning him up.
But the realization stays rooted in his mind. Fixed in his mind and no matter how hard he rubs at his temples, it stays there like an oxidized stain on his brain.
The problem is that Joshua exists in real life too.
Seokmin still has to see his lean figure almost every day, he still has to watch the way his laugh carries throughout the room like sound waves lulling someone to sleep, and he still has to see the way his lips quirk up at a funny joke that was told.
Seokmin still has to talk to Joshua like he wasn't burning up inside from the guilt of having dreamt of him that night; he still has to watch from the sidelines as Joshua is loved and adored by the people around him; he still has to let his heart lurch at his throat—trying to spill all the feelings he has come to develop for his hyung.
But that was the exact problem. Seokmin still had to see Joshua as his hyung because that's what he was—his hyung, perhaps his favorite one at that. Even if he knows that there's more to “favorite hyung,” even if he knows that he's tucking away underlying feelings deep in his heart, that still seem to seep through the cracks of his facade.
Seokmin has to pretend like it didn't hurt to see Joshua—the real Joshua—act like he always did with him; friendly, kind, doting. Seokmin couldn’t feel disappointed or indignant towards Joshua because he was unaware of the inner turmoil that Seokmin was facing every day since the dreams started.
This was real life, and as much as he would like to escape to dream land during times like these—times where everything was too real, where reality was blending in with fiction, where he couldn’t seem to breathe at the thought of having to stand next to Joshua after last night's dream—when everything felt like it was all too much.
It was moments like these where reality would hit Seokmin like a brick—harsh and uncomfortable, but the truth was unavoidable. No matter how much Seokmin tried to deny it or tried to run away from it—it always came back like a rude awakening.
The real Joshua was nothing more than his hyung, his friend—delightful and good-natured. That’s how it's always been and how it will always be. Joshua was nothing more than a shoulder to lean on when life got hard and vice versa. He’d never see Seokmin as nothing more than a little brother—loud, humorous, joyous.
It's not like Seokmin could hope for a chance, for a possibility of all these dreams and feelings to be requited. Seokmin could hope and pray every day, for Joshua to feel the same amount of yearning and amour that consumed his body whole; Seokmin could hope and pray for the day that Joshua finally confesses his profoundest feelings for Seokmin; Seokmin could hope and pray every single day, but that's what made hope dangerous.
It was dangerous for a tender heart like Seokmin to believe in the childish concept that was hope. Because Seokmin knows himself, he knew he’d fall into its propaganda with little convincing—he’d fall for its false sense of comfort like wishing upon a star to feel better about the painfully obvious unrequited love he had for his hyung.
Hope was dangerous enough that Seokmin recognized it in a multitude of ways. He could see it in the way that Joshua let his gaze slightly linger on him for a second too long; in the way that Joshua let his hand graze against Seokmin’s whenever they stood next to each other; in the way that Joshua would call his name out with sweet vitality that it made his throat go dry.
Reading in between the lines of simple gestures like those that happened in real life which just so happened to match the ones that play in his dreams like clockwork only added more fuel to the fire.
Because Dream Joshua was nothing more than that—a dream. An idealized version of a real person. A version of a person Seokmin wishes would exist in real life. An entity that had been fabricated by his mind to lure out his deepest desires, and used Joshua’s face to bring out the most unattainable of them all—Joshua himself.
Seokmin couldn’t help but hate his mind for putting him in this predicament. If it weren’t for it, Seokmin would’ve still lived a life in ignorance, and it definitely would’ve been blissful. He wouldn't have to deal with his mind conjuring up dreams with his hyung, or the feelings realization that hit him like a semi truck—he wouldn’t have lived with the constant unrest that this whole dream wonderland brought on him and his real life connections.
Seokmin couldn’t let dream instances warp his sense of reality—the line between reality and fantasy was strict and bold. Dream Joshua was not real-life Joshua. Real-life Joshua didn't hold Seokmin’s hand like Dream Joshua did. Real-life Joshua didn't wake up in Seokmin’s arms like Dream Joshua did. Real-life Joshua wasn't whispering sweet nothings into Seokmin’s ear like Dream Joshua did.
Real life Joshua didn't reciprocate the same feelings Seokmin had.
And Seokmin couldn’t delude himself into thinking otherwise—he couldn’t hope for it. He couldn’t allow himself to hope for the day that Joshua would, maybe, love Seokmin like he did—romantically.
So, any amount of hope that he started to hold close to his heart—diminished into oblivion.
One night the dream is different. As different as a dream Seokmin has been living for almost a month now could be at least.
Tonight, they're in a quiet seaside town that he's never seen before. The sky is painted in different hues of pink and orange as the sun sets over the horizon. The air is heavy with salt from the ocean, and soft waves crash softly against rocks.
They both stood next to each other, on the wooden boardwalk, leaning casually against the railing. They don’t speak—they don’t need to. It was evident that they did not need words to know that they were enjoying the view that was being offered. The silence between them was comfortable, as they bathed in the serenity that the moment brought on them, and the sense of comfort that their presence brought on each other.
Seokmin lets his gaze drift towards Joshua and his mouth parts slightly at the view beside him.
Joshua was staring at the sunset, in absolute awe, like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Seokmin notices how the different color hues reflect against his pale skin, and Seokmin feels his chest tighten at the sight. He immediately takes note of how this was a better sight than any sunset.
“Beautiful…” Seokmin whispers into the small space between them and Joshua turns his head towards him, and God does he look breathtaking, now that Seokmin has a clear view of his face.
“Me or the sunset?” Joshua raises a brow at him, a chuckle escaping his lips, and it's like music to Seokmin’s ears.
”You,” he replies breathlessly without hesitation.
Seokmin notices the way Joshua’s cheeks redden slightly at the compliment, and it takes everything in Seokmin not to raise a hand to cup his cheek and feel the warmth blooming across his skin.
“I should take you here one day,” Seokmin murmurs, still soaking up the sight of Joshua’s face under the setting sun. “God, Shua. The number of places I’d take you…if..” Seokmin trails off.
The words stay stuck in his throat, heavy and wrong. Seokmin gulps, trying to alleviate the uncomfortable feeling burning inside of him. But no matter how hard he tried, the feeling stayed rooted there.
It was weird, weird to feel like this, especially now. Seokmin knows that this was all a dream, but saying this—to dream Joshua—felt so wrong, so very wrong that it made Seokmin want to throw up.
He couldn’t tell dream Joshua he’d take him everywhere and anywhere if only he were his. He couldn’t. Because he really couldn’t do that, at least not with the figment of his imagination—and probably never with the real life version, but he digresses. That was a conversation that should be reserved for the real Joshua.
This was a conversation that Seokmin had to have with the real Joshua and not the fabricated version of him that seeped into his mind almost every night for almost a month straight.
It was weird that he even felt like this. This was all a dream— It’s not like the real Joshua could know about this, but Seokmin couldn’t feel like he was betraying Joshua, his Joshua.
And that was even sillier! They weren’t even together, they were just friends. There were no underlying romantic feelings, at least on Joshua’s part, because Seokmin felt so amorous for Joshua that it was embarrassing to even say out loud.
“If…?” Joshua prompts gently, breaking Seokmin out of his thoughts.
Seokmin swallows. He racks his brain for what he could possibly say to soften the blow, “Let’s just say I’d give you the world if I could.”
If only you were mine, goes unsaid.
A week later they’re alone in Seokmin’s apartment.
Joshua is sitting cross-legged on the couch while Seokmin fiddles with his guitar, trying to see if he could play the cover that made its way to his dream wonderland.
Seokmin takes note of how the sleeves of his hoodie are pulled over his hands, fingers tucked in as he absentmindedly scrolls through nothing in particular on his phone. The TV is on, but muted—some random variety show was playing in the background that had piqued their interest until it didn’t.
He doesn’t know what made him want to play the cover now, maybe because Joshua finally came over for the first time in a while, maybe because he got bored with the variety show playing in the background, maybe because he never got to play it for dream Joshua
Seokmin continues to stare at Joshua, and the more he does, the more he realizes little things about his hyung. He notices the way Joshua leans comfortably against his couch like he's always belonged there, the way his lips purse when he's focused on whatever video caught his attention, the way he hums quietly, subconsciously like second nature.
The more Seokmin stares, the more everything feels unbearable, but so right that it takes everything in Seokmin’s power to turn his gaze away from Joshua.
Seokmin swallows, fingers tightening around the neck of his guitar. He's been “getting ready” to play the cover for Joshua for the past ten minutes now. He can tell Joshua was waiting patiently for him, but he almost felt like a burden—why couldn’t he just focus and play the damn song?
He's performed in front of Joshua before, he’s performed in front of sold-out stadiums before, performing comes naturally to him—he bathes himself in attention, he loves it, even craves it—always on the hunt for validation. But in the small space of Seokmin's apartment, and the single stride that's keeping Seokmin and Joshua apart shifts something in Seokmin.
He feels like a nervous wreck, and he knows he shouldn’t. It’s just Shua-hyung, he reminds himself, but the little reminder doesn't help soothe his nerves, instead—it amplifies them. Ever since Seokmin realized he had feelings for his hyung, he hasn’t been quite the same.
Seokmin used to thrive under watchful eyes—eager to impress and be told how well he had done. He used to tell jokes so freely, not worrying about whether someone would find him weird for laughing a little too hard or for being a little too loud.
Now, all he could feel was Joshua’s watchful eyes. The way they would admire him during a performance like he had just hung the moon for him. The way Joshua watched intently as he cracked a joke, and laughed alongside him when the joke hit the right audience. The way he smiled fondly at one of Seokmin’s antics when others would be put off.
“Are you ever going to play,” Joshua says suddenly, reeling him out of his thoughts, “or are you going to continue staring at the chords like a deer in headlights?”
Seokmin exhales through his nose, forcing his shoulders to relax. It was just Shua-hyung. ”I will soon. I’m just…trying to find my flow.”
Joshua hums at his answer and puts his phone down, finally glancing up at him. “Well, what song are you playing?”
“In My Dreams. Red Velvet.” Seokmin curtly answers, still trying to see how he's going to play this in front of the real Joshua and not dream Joshua.
“Tragic,” he says lightly. “Who are you thinking about?”
Seokmin blinks up to where Joshua is sitting on the couch, and gives him his best unfazed look he could muster, “No one. It’s just a song.”
“Really?” Joshua raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
”Really,” he confirms, a little too quickly, that it most definitely makes him look guilty of hiding something.
Joshua leans back into the couch, a smug look written all over his face, ”Well, I don’t believe you.”
Seokmin decides to ignore his comment and forces himself to start strumming the beginning chords for the song.
The first note comes a little too sharp which makes Seokmin wince internally. He knows Joshua caught that, and it makes Seokmin deflate slightly. He didn't want to look like a total mess in front of him—especially not now, he wanted this to be perfect; almost like an unofficial confession.
Seokmin closes his eyes for a moment and exhales through his nose before he tries again. This time, the chord is strummed perfectly, and Seokmin cheers inwardly at his small success.
His fingers move on their own after that, muscle memory taking over his limbs since his mind was on the verge of a breakdown with how nervous he was.
Then, Seokmin starts to sing. He can barely hear his voice from how soft it was, but it feels right. Singing any louder would break the intimacy of the moment, but soft spoken words barely vibrating off the walls, but loud enough that Joshua could hear made everything; the way his voice dripped with devotion and warmth felt much more personal.
“In my dreams you love me back…” Seokmin feels the way his voice wavers ever so slightly, but he pushes through it, swallowing down the nerves clawing at his throat.
Seokmin continues singing, but it's not like he's paying attention to how he's doing. All he could feel was the honesty lacing through the lyrics, and how this felt way too real. Like Joshua knew who this song was about with the way he was frightened with anxiety, with the way he flickered his gaze up at Joshua whenever a lyric that Seokmin connected him with was next, with the way it took everything to stop himself from spilling everything mid song—the dreams, his feelings, his guilt.
By the time the last chord rings out, Seokmin feels like he just showed the entire world his most vulnerable side, like he was on display at a museum for the world to critique, but the only opinion that mattered to him was of the person in front of him.
Seokmin slowly lifts his gaze towards Joshua and gasps lightly at the sight in front of him.
Joshua was staring at him like Seokmin had just handed him something fragile, something precious, as if Seokmin had just offered him the world.
”Are you still going to lie to me and say you weren’t thinking about someone while singing it?” Joshua asks after a beat passes.
Seokmin shrugs, “It’s just about someone.”
Joshua tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly, clearly unimpressed by his answer, and it makes Seokmin shift in his seat.
Seokmin’s fingers drift back to the guitar's strings, absentmindedly striking a few chords, “Just someone in my dreams.” You, echoes in his head like a mantra.
Joshua doesn’t respond right away, and Seokmin can almost hear the way the gears in his head turn loudly like he was contemplating something.
“You know,” Joshua says slowly, “that’s funny.”
Seokmin looks up at him again, brows knotting together. How were his dreams funny? “Why?”
Joshua hesitates for a moment, gaze looking over his entire apartment, and Seokmin notices the way his expression was strangely shy. “Because I’ve been having dreams too.”
Seokmin blinks, clearly not expecting that. “About what?”
Joshua meets his eyes, and Seokmin can see the split second hesitation in his hyung’s eyes, before he utters—
“About you.”
Seokmin’s mind goes blank.
Seokmin feels the way his heart lurches to his throat—gnawing at him to finally say what he's meant to say this entire time. That singing Joshua a song about only loving a person in your dreams wasn't just enough.
Because it wasn't. Seokmin had to say everything that had been accumulating in his mind for the past month. How he had dreamed about Joshua, and how it awakened a vast amount of emotions Seokmin never thought he would have the chance to experience.
How Seokmin had been living in dreams for an entire month, and with every passing dream, he fell deeper and deeper in love with Joshua without him realizing.
When Seokmin finally realized his feelings for Joshua, he didn't know what to do. He was at a loss for words when everything hit him like a tsunami at full speed.
How he had renounced every possibility of Joshua ever reciprocating his feelings because Joshua was Joshua. He was beautiful, kind, loving, adored, someone’s ideal partner. Then there was Seokmin, poor little old Seokmin, who was too cheery, too loud, too sensitive, who fought his own battles every day.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Joshua was never supposed to have dreams about him, either. He was never supposed to reciprocate his feelings in any way. This wasn't supposed to happen—
“…What?”
Joshua lets out a nervous laugh, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.“It started almost a month ago now,” he admits, “In the dreams we’re doing really normal things. Sometimes we cook, walk around at night, or lay down in bed.”
Seokmin’s throat goes dry; he stares at him like a fish out of water, and he feels his heart pounding in his ears, and it only gets faster by the second. “Are we… happy in the dreams?” He finally musters up words to speak, but they don’t feel enough.
Joshua smiles softly. “Yeah.”
Seokmin swallows. He couldn’t believe this was happening, this must be a cruel prank being played on him. Joshua couldn’t have been dreaming about him this entire time, either.
But Seokmin knows that this wasn't a dream and this wasn't a prank. The emotion that Joshua had splayed all over his face proved it—it was honest, sincere, real.
Seokmin can't help but let out a huff, in clear disbelief. Joshua had been dreaming about him for almost a month now, the same amount of time that Seokmin had been experiencing dream wonderland too.
And Seokmin remembers those three dreams. He remembers cooking ramen with Joshua, and how they ate them straight from the pot late one night. He remembers walking the streets of Seoul with Joshua, hand in hand as they talked about going to karaoke one day. He remembers lying in bed with Joshua, and how they just stared at each other, admiring and mapping every detail of each other's faces.
He remembers every dream that he’s shared with Joshua for the past month now, with such vivid detail that he could recite all of them in order—starting with the very first one and the most recent one like the back of his hand.
Seokmin clears his throat before speaking, “What happens when you wake up?”
Joshua stays quiet for a moment and Seokmin sees the way his adams apple bops slightly in clear nervousness, then his hyung’s voice drops a little, a little quieter, but raw honesty drips from his words. “I wish I hadn’t.”
Seokmin forgets how to breathe for a moment. Because what are the odds that Joshua, the same man that he had been dreaming about for almost a month now, was also having the same dreams as him? And what were the odds that he also felt the same for Seokmin; the same intense feeling of yearning and longing for what seemed like an unattainable person.
Seokmin doesn't answer, he's unable to, and he still couldn’t wrap his head around the situation that was unfolding in front of his eyes. Seokmin just stares at Joshua expectantly, like he holds the entire answers of the universe, and at least right now, in this moment—he does.
Joshua notices how Seokmin won't say anything more, and takes it as his cue to continue on. “There’s this one dream,” Joshua starts off, “We were standing by the ocean. You said you’d give me the world if you could.”
Seokmin’s heart nearly explodes from how fast it was beating behind his ribcage because genuinely, what were the chances?
”You dreamt that too?” He asks as if he hadn't just received his answer a few seconds prior, but he had to make sure he hadn't heard wrong. He had to make sure that he had this all right.
Joshua just nods his head slowly, and Seokmin can't help the laugh that escapes his mouth. It bubbles out of him, uncontrollable, almost hysterical that he has to cover his face with both hands because genuinely, what were the fucking chances?
“I dreamt that too,” Seokmin finally says after calming down from his laughing fit.
Joshua’s eyes widened almost instantly. “Wait—you did?” He asks incredulously.
“Yeah.”
Silence fills the room, but it's not excessively hot or uncomfortable—God, it was far from that. This time it’s electric. The feeling crawls up through his arms, settles in his chest, and presses against his ribs like it's trying to break free alongside with his heart that's been beating way too fast for the past five minutes which might have left a strain on it.
“So…” Joshua starts off gently.
“So…?” Seokmin drags out, trying to fill in the space around them.
Joshua smiles, warm and a little nervous. “In the dream,” he says, “You said you’d give me the world if you could.”
Seokmin groans, tipping his head back slightly, a hand dragging down his face. “Please don’t quote my subconscious. I feel embarrassed.”
Joshua laughs, light and breathy, “But I’m curious,” he continues, voice dipping just low enough that it makes Seokmin’s stomach twist.
“About what?”
Joshua meets his eyes, really meets them—like he's looking past his eyes and into something deeper inside of Seokmin, and he can't help but feel shy under the older’s gaze. “That’s not what you meant to say, right?”
Seokmin pauses. God. Joshua was way too perceptive for his own good. Of course, he had noticed the way Seokmin paused for a moment, trying to pass his words as something casual and passive, when it was far from it. What he said that night wasn't what he meant to say at all, it was a half-truth, but it didn't convey what he really wanted to say to Joshua.
What he wanted to say was how Seokmin would take him everywhere and anywhere, if only he were his. He'd show him every place he’d ever dreamt of seeing, share every moment with him, enjoy the comfort that his presence brought him—if only he were his. Not possessively—God no. He’d never want to own Joshua. Joshua was his own person and Seokmin respected him and the decisions he made.
No. He meant it like Joshua being his. His romantic partner, and not his friend. Someone who’d choose Seokmin throughout everything, someone who would be a constant in his life and not something fleeting. Someone who would reach for his hand without hesitation, someone who would fall asleep next to him, and who would still be there when morning came. Someone who would look at him the way dream Joshua did and meant it.
Seokmin sets the guitar aside, slowly and then he steps forward, until he's close enough that the rest of the room fades into nothing and all he can see now is Joshua. Close enough that he could see the faint flush spread across Joshua’s cheeks, close enough to notice how his lips were parted slightly, close enough that if Seokmin leaned in just a little more—
Seokmin opens his mouth to speak, and the words come out quieter than he expected. “I didn't say what I meant to say because I wanted the real Joshua to hear it instead,” he says carefully, “What I meant to say at that time was: the number of places I'd take you if only you were mine.”
Joshua’s breath hitches. It's barely audible, but it's there and Seokmin hears it like the loudest thing in the room. For a moment, everything goes still. There’s no movement, no sound, just Seokmin staring into Joshua’s eyes like he was anchoring himself with them—like if he looked away now he’d slip away from his grasp.
“So… what do we do now?” Joshua asks, tentatively, like he's scared of what will follow.
Seokmin lets out a small, nervous laugh, the tension in his chest loosening just enough for him to breathe again, but it doesn’t disappear completely. It just shifts into something lighter—warmer, but still overwhelming. “Well,” he says, “we could keep dreaming about it.”
Joshua tilts his head, eyes flickering across his face. “Or?”
Seokmin hesitates for a moment before he reaches out and takes Joshua’s hand. The small contact of hands grazing against each other sends something rushing through his arm, and Seokmin thinks he could get high off it. “Or we could try it for real,” he murmurs, gaze flicking down to Joshua’s full, pink lips, before turning back to his eyes.
Joshua’s expression softens, and then slowly, a smile blooms across his face, and it's brighter than any dream he has lived in the past month, and feels so unreal that Seokmin believes he might still be dreaming. But he's not. He knows he's not. Joshua is right here, hand in hand with him, and Seokmin can feel the warmth radiating off of him that it leaves Seokmin feeling toasty under his AC air.
“I think I like the second option better.”
That’s all Seokmin needs to hear before he presses his lips against Joshua’s.
And for the first time since the dreams started, Seokmin doesn’t want to fall asleep at all.