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It was a quiet ride home to Seoul. The only sound filling the van was the heavy rain outside. Suhwan sat in the back row, staring at the crowded streets while listening to his favorite playlist to calm his heart. The image of the nexus exploding in their last game was still vivid in his mind. And the journey he had chased for so long suddenly came to an end. His thoughts wandered without direction, and before he realized it, his gaze had shifted to the person beside him.
Minseok was scrolling through his phone, absentmindedly biting his lip out of habit. Sensing someone staring at him, he glanced to his right. Their eyes met for a split second, and Suhwan quickly looked back out the window. Minseok's eyes lingered on Suhwan’s back. It wasn't the first time Suhwan had acted like this. He had caught him staring more than once before. But this time felt different. For now, he decided to let it slide and ask him about it later at the dorm.
By the time they arrived in Seoul, the rain was still pouring hard. Everyone returned to their rooms at the dorm to rest. It was already 2 a.m., but Suhwan couldn't sleep. He decided to go to the living room and sat at the end of the sofa. The room was quite dark, with only the side lamp on the desk near the sofa turned on. Its warm light spread softly through the room. He scrolled through his phone and replayed their last match. Something about it still kept bothering him.
Minseok came out from his room, suddenly feeling thirsty and heading to the kitchen for some water. That was when he found Suhwan sitting alone in the living room. Suhwan was focused on his phone, his earphones on, completely unaware of Minseok’s presence. Minseok stood there for a moment watching him quietly, before getting his water and sitting down next to him. A quiet gap settled between them, but Suhwan soon felt the sudden presence beside him. Startled, he turned and found Minseok sitting there.
“Oh.. Minseok Hyung,” Suhwan took off his earphones and turned his body fully toward the petite boy beside him.
Minseok gulped down the water and placed the glass on the table in front of him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. It was clear from his tone that he was worried.
“Hmmm… Nothing, Hyung. I just can’t sleep,” Suhwan said, tossing his phone onto the sofa.
A long silence stretched between them. The older one leaned back against the sofa and looked up at the ceiling, while the younger one fidgeted with his fingers as he stared down at them.
“Hmmm… Suhwanie?” Suhwan immediately glanced at Minseok. “I may not know what you’re thinking about, but don’t dwell on it too much. We all know today wasn’t our best day. There are still many things we need to talk about as a team. But despite all of that, you’re doing great, Suhwan-ah…”
Minseok paused. He still remembered how Suhwan had immediately packed his keyboard and mouse after their match earlier that day. Suhwan, who had a habit of getting lost in his own world, had left his seat so quickly that his older brothers could only stare at his back. He had forgotten that it was their last match in the tournament, so the team still needed to bow to the audience. As Suhwan followed behind his brothers, Minseok kept glancing at him. He had left a space between himself and Sanghyeok, the spot where Suhwan usually stood beside him. But Suhwan had ended up standing between the two Hyeonjuns instead. Even after the bow, Minseok kept looking at him, but the tall maknae avoided any kind of eye contact. Suhwan walked off so quickly, packed up his gear, and headed backstage at the speed of light.
Minseok was frustrated too. The moment the nexus exploded, he suppressed the emotions surging in his chest. But it was obvious that he was mad, mad at the situation their team was in right now, when he knew that their potential and capability are beyond what they had shown today. As he looked at his teammates he had been running with for the past few months, it felt all the hard work they had put in together was still not enough. But moving forward and working even harder was the only option they had.
Suhwan lowered his gaze to his fingers again. Another silence settled between them. They were used to this kind of silence, and somehow, it felt comfortable. It had been more than six months since they had become a bot lane duo. What started as an awkward first encounter had slowly turned into familiarity with each other's presence. Suhwan had always known that his support was an outstanding player, and he had felt immense pressure every time they faced each other on the Rift as opponents. Now that they were teammates, he had learned that everything people said about Minseok as a support was true, but on top of that, Minseok was much cuter in daily life than Suhwan had ever imagined.
“The pentakill was insane, though,” Minseok let out a soft chuckle, still staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed. He had always known that Suhwan was an incredible ADC, even back in his rookie days, the kind of promising player who could surpass anyone in the future. He had the most pentakills in history out of any player in the world. Minseok knew this young ADC was just as crazy as he was.
Suhwan shifted in his seat and leaned back against the sofa, unconsciously copying Minseok’s posture. A small smile formed on his face. “That only worked because everyone helped me get it,” he said. As time passed, he found himself relaxing more. He had always felt that Minseok had some kind of magic, whenever he was with him, he felt secure. Suhwan had often felt intimidated by Minseok’s presence whenever they talked about in-game strategies, but he had also learned so much from Minseok’s understanding of the game and the way he approached it. More than pressure, Suhwan was always grateful he got to play beside a support as great as him. For at least three years.
Minseok silently glanced at Suhwan. He had to admit that he used to find it hard to approach him first, since Suhwan didn’t talk much. But after spending so much time talking over the past few months, Suhwan was actually easy to be around. He had also found him unexpectedly cute, especially because of how innocent he could be at times. They had gotten closer than Minseok had expected, but somehow, there was still a subtle awkwardness between them that he couldn’t quite put into words.
“Ooo.. really?” Minseok teased. He chuckled at Suhwan's words, though he knew he meant them. Suhwan only let out a small laugh along with him.
“I'm going for a run tomorrow. Want to join me, Suhwan-ah?” Minseok asked, already bracing himself for Suhwan to say no.
There was a long pause before Suhwan answered, and Minseok could tell he was hesitating.
“If you don’t want to, then I—”
“No. I’ll go with you, Hyung.” Suhwan answered hurriedly. He looked at Minseok, and their eyes locked for a few seconds before they both looked away.
“I just… think I need some fresh air.” Suhwan added.
Minseok looked back at him. Suhwan was staring blankly at the ceiling. Silence settled between them again.
“Suhwan-ah…”
Suhwan turned to look at Minseok.
“Is there something you want to talk about?”
Suhwan stayed quiet, and Minseok waited patiently, knowing that if he wanted to open up, he would eventually speak.
“Hmmm… The thing is, Hyung, I can’t get Game 4 out of my head. It’s such a shame we couldn’t make it through. I promised our fans we’d make it to the end, but we didn't.” Suhwan began. I couldn’t keep my promise to you either, he added in his heart.
Minseok took his time answering. He changed his posture, turning his whole body toward Suhwan as he rested his head against the sofa and pulled his legs up to his chest. He stared at his ADC while Suhwan kept his gaze lowered. Suhwan couldn’t bring himself to look at Minseok, suddenly feeling shy.
“Yes... It really is regrettable that we couldn’t meet their expectations. We should admit that we made a lot of mistakes that led to the defeat. That’s why there are still many things we need to talk about. But I know you understand that dwelling on it won’t get us anywhere. We have to learn our lesson and keep moving forward, right?”
Suhwan quietly nodded, still facing forward. He didn’t dare glance at Minseok, who was sitting on his left and facing him.
“Honestly, it’s hard for me too. I can’t get it out of my mind either. But what’s past is already in the past. Throughout my career, there have been many setbacks. But after them, there were always good things waiting ahead. I believe in our team. I believe in us,” Minseok added.
Suhwan finally found the courage to turn and look at Minseok. His body was still facing forward, but he rested his head to the left. Their eyes met. Heat suddenly rose to his cheeks, and he didn't realize that Minseok felt the same. The dim light hid the redness on their faces as they both looked away, breaking eye contact. For a moment, they both froze in their seats.
“I believe our team can do better. I’ll keep working hard too, Hyung. So… keep believing in us. I do too.” It was rare for Suhwan to speak like this, but naturally, he wanted to reciprocate the same feelings.
Minseok didn’t answer right away. He just looked at Suhwan, as if the words had caught him off guard more than he expected. For a brief moment, his lips parted, but nothing came out. Then he let out a quiet breath and looked down, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Good,” he said softly. “Then let’s really do it together.”
His voice was calm, but the warmth in it made Suhwan’s chest tighten for no reason. Minseok leaned his back against the sofa again, though this time there was a small smile still lingering on his face.
“And if it gets hard again,” he added after a pause, glancing at Suhwan from the corner of his eye, “you can tell me first.”
Suhwan smiled sheepishly. He had never imagined that the support who he had always admired as a player would one day be sitting next to him, sharing a conversation like this.
“Yes… I will, Hyung,” Suhwan answered softly.
“And, Suhwanie…” Minseok hesitated for a moment. “I’m sorry for not comforting you right away and for keeping my distance. I honestly didn’t know what to say at the time. I was watching you too, but I knew you were trying to not look at me either. I don’t know… I just felt I needed to say this.”
“Don’t say sorry, Hyung. I don’t want to hear that from you,” Suhwan responded quickly, unlike his usual self.
“My mind was all over the place too. I didn’t mean to avoid you. The reality just hadn’t sunk in yet. And I’m embarrassed to face you, after confidently promising that we’d take the trophy home together.” The words Suhwan had been keeping in his heart slipped out before he could stop them.
Suhwan lowered his gaze as soon as he realized what he had just said out loud after keeping it to himself all day. Minseok’s eyes widened as he turned to look at him, but he didn’t say anything.
Minseok then remembered their conversation from that day. They had been sitting together after taking photos in their new international uniform. It was a break for both of them while the others were taking their individual shots. At first, it had been quiet as they ate their meal, but Minseok was the one who started the conversation.
“Suhwan-ah… you know what?” Minseok said.
Suhwan glanced at Minseok while chewing his food.
“Sungsimdang is coming out with a new bread flavor during MSI. We should go try it!” Minseok said excitedly, already looking forward to trying the different breads there.
Suhwan simply nodded, “Let’s try it, Hyung.”
Unexpectedly, the two of them had similar tastes when it came to desserts, and they often shared things whenever one of them found something worth trying.
“I’ve never had the chance to visit Daejeon. I’m glad we made it to MSI. Have you ever been there?” Minseok asked curiously.
“I went once with my family when I was still a kid. I don’t remember much, though,” Suhwan answered, trying to recall. “My sister told me there’s a lot of delicious food there.”
“Waah… I can’t wait!” Minseok beamed as he munched his food, his cheeks puffed up with it. Suhwan found it cute and smiled. It was funny coming from Minseok, who was always trying to maintain his weight and often checked the calories in every snack.
“This time, MSI is in our home country. We have to win the trophy. I’m half excited and half nervous too, Suhwan-ah.” He glanced at Suhwan, who had already finished his meal and was tidying up the trash on the table.
“Don’t worry, Hyung. You’ve got me,” Suhwan said nonchalantly.
“Look at that confidence!” Minseok laughed, covering his mouth as he nearly spat out his food. “You promised me that, okay?”
The memory came back to Minseok all of sudden. He hadn’t expected those playful words to weigh on Suhwan this much. Back then, he had only meant it as a joke, but Suhwan had taken it seriously. Then again, without Minseok saying it, Suhwan had already made that promise to himself.
Silence hung between them for a while. Neither of them seemed to know how to speak first. Minseok was sitting upright, and so was Suhwan. Their hearts were beating so fast. Minseok was trying to gather his thoughts, while Suhwan just wanted to hide somewhere if he could.
“It’s okay, Suhwan-ah.” Minseok began. Suhwan still kept his gaze lowered. He couldn’t bring himself to turn and look at Minseok.
“Don’t burden yourself with something you can’t carry alone. We carry it together as a team. And just so you know, I won’t blame you for anything. Like I said earlier, you’re doing great. You did so well in your role. As your support, I couldn’t ask for much more.”
Suhwan stayed quiet, his fingers curling against the fabric of his sweatpants. Minseok’s words had eased the heaviness in his chest, but at the same time, they made everything inside him feel more tangled. Every reassurance Minseok gave him, every careful word, only made him more aware of how much Minseok’s opinion mattered to him. Sitting this close to him, with the room wrapped in dim light and quiet rain, Suhwan felt strangely exposed, as if one wrong word let everything in his heart spill out.
Minseok watched him for a moment, then shifted slightly against the sofa. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to adapt at first,” he said, his voice low and steady. ‘I was worried about the pressure on you too. But you’ve done well, Suhwan-ah. Really well. Your playstyle fits us perfectly. We’ll fix our mistakes and become stronger together.”
Suhwan’s throat tightened. “I’m really grateful to be here,” he said after a pause, his voice quieter than before. “Sometimes it feels unreal that I’m T1’s ADC… and that I have you as my support. So I want to do my best. I want to be someone this team can rely on. I’ve never doubted this team, I really think we can go far, Minseok Hyung…”
For a second, Minseok didn’t answer. Suhwan’s words sank deep into his chest, warming something in him that had felt cold since the match ended. T1 had always been home to him, the place where he had grown through every failure, every victory, every version of himself. And hearing Suhwan speak with that much sincerity made Minseok realize all over again how much he wanted this young ADC beside him for as long as possible.
“We still have time, you know,” Minseok said quietly.
Suhwan looked up, blinking. “Time for what?”
Minseok held his gaze this time. “To become the best bot duo in League history.” His lips curved into a small smile. “We still have three years ahead of us. That’s enough time, isn’t it?”
Suhwan forgot how to breathe for a second. Three years. The two of them, side by side for that long. Minseok said it so casually, but to Suhwan, it didn’t feel casual at all. It felt too warm, too close, too much like a future he suddenly wanted to hold onto with both hands. He lowered his eyes, his ears already burning. “Then…” he started, fumbling over words. “Then I’ll work even harder, Hyung. So that… when that time comes, I can still be beside you.”
The words came out more softly than he intended, but the moment they left his mouth, Suhwan froze. He stared down at his hands, too embarrassed to look up. Beside him, Minseok had gone still too. The silence between them stretched for a second too long, warm and strange and impossible to name. Then Minseok let out the quietest laugh, breathy and fond.
“Then I’ll make sure of it too,” he said.
Minseok held out his hand between them, palm open, and Suhwan placed his hand in it before he could think too much. Minseok’s fingers wrapped around his in a firm clasp, warm and grounding. “Then let’s promise properly,” Minseok murmured, his thumb brushing once against Suhwan’s knuckles before he let himself stop. “For the next three years, let’s become the best bot duo in history.”
Suhwan nodded, unable to say anything at all. Even after Minseok let go, the warmth of his hand lingered in Suhwan’s skin. Outside, the rain still fell against the windows, but inside the living room, the air between them had changed into something neither of them could name yet. And as they sat there side by side in the dim light, both of them knew this promise was no longer just about the Rift.