Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

————–—

It all started with a fight that should’ve never happened.

Heeseung hadn’t meant the words to cut so deep. It was in the middle of practice, frustrations running high, exhaustion pulling at everyone’s nerves.They were all stressing over they new comeback after a while.
Riki had been late on a step — again — and Heeseung’s voice had snapped across the room, sharp and cold.

“Riki, can you just focus for once? We don’t have time for your childish mistakes.”

The words landed hard.
Riki froze, his breath catching, but no one noticed.
No one noticed the way his shoulders shrank, the way his lips parted like he was about to defend himself — but stopped.

It wasn’t just Heeseung that day.
Over the past few weeks, the hyungs — stressed with schedules, pressured by management, distracted by endless expectations — had brushed him off again and again.
"Riki, not now."
"You’re the youngest. Just listen."
"You don’t understand — leave it to us."

And every time, Riki had swallowed it down. Every time, he told himself it didn’t matter.
Until suddenly… it did.

That night, the dorm felt emptier than usual. Riki sat on the edge of his bed, clutching a wrinkled piece of paper in his hands. His room was quiet, the voices of his members muffled through the walls as they chatted and laughed in the living room — without him.

They hadn’t noticed how quiet he’d gotten lately.
How he’d stopped joking around.
How his smile no longer quite reached his eyes.

The words on the letter were shaky, ink smudged where tears had fallen.The letter said

“I’m sorry if I was a burden. I know I mess things up. I know I’m just the youngest, and maybe things will be easier for you if I’m not around. Please don’t be angry. I just wanted to feel heard.”

He folded the letter carefully, setting it on his desk before slipping out of the dorm unnoticed.

---

It was Sunoo who found it first.
He had wandered into Riki’s room to ask if he wanted to join their movie night — but Riki wasn’t there. His bed was untouched, lights off. And then… his eyes fell on the letter sitting neatly on the desk.

The blood drained from his face.

“Jungwon—!” His voice cracked as he stumbled into the living room, waving the letter in shaking hands.

The members gathered quickly, reading the note together in stunned silence.
Jungwon’s heart dropped.
Heeseung’s face turned ashen.

“No… no, no…” Heeseung’s voice broke as he grabbed his jacket. “We have to find him—now.”

Panic spread instantly. The six of them scattered into the rain-soaked night, calling Riki’s name through the darkened streets.

It was Jake who found him — on the bridge just a few blocks away, standing motionless against the railing, rain soaking his hoodie.

“Riki!” Jake’s voice cracked, breathless as he sprinted over and grabbed his shoulders tightly. “Don’t do this. Please—don’t.”

Riki blinked in surprise, lips parted as if he didn’t expect anyone to come looking.

“I thought… you wouldn’t care,” Riki whispered, voice hoarse.

Heeseung caught up moments later, chest heaving, eyes rimmed red. Without thinking, he rushed forward, pulling Riki into a fierce hug.

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung gasped, tears slipping freely down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Riki. I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t mean to push you away. I— we all love you. We’ve just been stupid and blind and— please, don’t leave us.”

One by one, the others surrounded him — arms wrapped tightly around their maknae, anchoring him there, grounding him in their warmth and trembling relief.

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” Riki choked.

“We were wrong,” Jungwon whispered, pressing his forehead against Riki’s. “We should’ve listened. We should’ve seen you were hurting. Please, come home.”

---

The rain hadn’t eased. It pelted relentlessly against the concrete as if it too mourned what had been broken between them. Heeseung’s hand shook as he flashed the letter he read earlier — Ni-ki’s scrawled words bleeding into the wet paper, each sentence cutting deeper into their hearts.

But none of it cut deeper than the realization:
They had been the ones to hurt him.

Ni-ki sat motionless on the curb, his drenched hair clinging to his pale skin. His frame, smaller than they remembered, trembled violently — yet he seemed far away, unreachable. His eyes, distant and hollow, didn’t even flicker when Jungwon whispered his name.

It wasn’t some outside force that had driven him here.
It was them — the careless words, the dismissive glances, the overlooked exhaustion.

Jay remembered every sharp comment he’d thrown when stressed.
Sunghoon remembered every moment he brushed off Ni-ki’s concerns with a scoff.
Sunoo felt the weight of all the times he’d assumed Ni-ki was just being distant, without asking why.
Heeseung’s chest ached at every time he let Ni-ki’s withdrawn silences go unnoticed, thinking space was kindness.
Even Jungwon, their leader, felt his own guilt pile heavier. I should have protected him better.
And Jake — always smiling Jake — realized how many smiles Ni-ki had forced back for their sake while no one saw how tired his eyes were behind them.

It had all built up.
And Ni-ki… had broken.

Sunghoon stepped forward first, but even now, even knowing how much they’d hurt him, he hesitated — afraid his presence might only deepen the wounds. Yet slowly, determinedly, he knelt in front of Ni-ki, rain soaking through to his skin.
“We’re here,” he breathed out, voice cracking. “I know we’re late. I know we’re the reason you feel this way. But please… let us fix it.”

Ni-ki blinked, finally reacting. His jaw clenched tightly, knuckles white where his fists gripped his soaked jeans. His breath came ragged, sharp.
“You say that now,” he rasped, eyes flashing between them — betrayal, fear, and exhaustion layered deep. “But where were you when I needed you? You pushed me away. You acted like I was annoying. Like I was weak…”

Heeseung’s lips trembled, tears brimming again. “You’re right.” His voice was hoarse. “We did. We didn’t see how much you were struggling. We brushed you off. We failed you.”

Sunoo dropped beside Sunghoon now, tears falling freely down his cheeks. “I said things I thought were jokes… I didn’t know they cut so deep. I’m so sorry.”

“We don’t deserve it, but please,” Jungwon murmured, taking a slow step closer. “Please let us try again. Let us prove we can be better.”

Ni-ki let out a bitter breath — almost a laugh, but too broken to carry any humor. His shoulders shook harder, pain visibly cracking through the hard shell he’d built.
“How do I trust you again… when it’s you who made me stop trusting in the first place?”

Jay knelt slowly, head bowing low. His usual pride gone — only remorse left.
“You don’t have to trust us right away. You don’t have to forgive us right away. We’ll earn it back. Little by little.”

One by one, they lowered themselves onto the wet pavement beside him. No umbrellas. No distance. They didn’t reach out too quickly — didn’t force comfort — but their presence, soaked and shivering beside him, was their first step.

They sat there in silence. Apology, regret, and hope all sitting heavy between them.

When the rain finally softened to a drizzle, Ni-ki didn’t speak again. But his fists slowly uncurled. His shoulders sagged — not in defeat, but in the faintest loosening of the weight he’d carried alone.

Jungwon, quiet and steady, finally rose and held his hand out. “Let us walk back together.”

For a long second, Ni-ki didn’t move. But then — slowly, hesitantly — his hand lifted. His touch was fragile, uncertain.
But it was there.

---

That night back at the dorm, the atmosphere was different.
Not just quiet — heavy. Raw.

Jake set down warm tea in front of Ni-ki without a word. Sunghoon placed a blanket carefully over his shoulders, careful not to startle him. Sunoo hovered near but didn’t force closeness — just soft glances, waiting.

They didn’t make excuses. They didn’t ask him to move on quickly.
Instead, Heeseung spoke first, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him. His voice was rough from crying.
“We don’t expect you to forget what we did. We don’t expect you to act like nothing happened.”
He swallowed hard.
“We just… want you to know we’ll be here. Even if it takes months. Even if it takes years. You’re not alone anymore.”

Ni-ki’s eyes shimmered. His lips parted, but no words came — only a sharp breath, like he was fighting between breaking down or holding it in.

Sunoo’s voice was small. “I’ll apologize as many times as it takes.”

Jay sat on the edge of the couch now, close but still giving him space. “You can be angry at us. You can yell at us. You can ignore us if you need. We’ll still stay.”

And maybe it wasn’t complete trust. Maybe the wounds were too deep to close in one night.
But for the first time in a long while…
Ni-ki didn’t feel like he had to carry the pain alone.

The days that followed were quiet — not uncomfortable, but careful. Everything felt fragile, like glass threatening to crack again if handled too roughly. No one rushed him. No one pushed.

Ni-ki moved through the dorm like a shadow at first. His eyes flickered warily whenever someone got too close. He kept his distance — sitting at the edge of the couch, eating meals in silence, slipping away to his room early at night.

But the others never stopped trying.

Jake would always leave a cup of warm tea by Ni-ki’s bedside before bed. Some nights, Ni-ki didn’t touch it. Other nights, it would be empty by morning.

Sunghoon took to silently folding Ni-ki’s laundry without a word, laying it neatly on his bed. A small gesture — no grand apologies attached — just quiet care.

Sunoo, who usually filled the room with chatter, toned everything down around him. Instead of pushing conversation, he’d simply sit near Ni-ki with a book or sketchpad, showing: You don’t have to talk. You just don’t have to be alone.

Jay made sure every sharp word he spoke — to anyone — softened. He’d always been blunt, but now, around Ni-ki, his tone gentled noticeably. Every morning, he’d softly ask, “Did you sleep okay?” and even when Ni-ki only nodded tightly, Jay never stopped asking.

Jungwon kept watch from a distance — but not as a leader now. As a hyung. When tensions rose among the members, when practice got stressful, Jungwon stepped in faster than before — ensuring nothing spiraled into the kind of atmosphere that had suffocated Ni-ki in the first place.

Heeseung?
He didn’t say much either. But he stayed. Every single night, he knocked gently on Ni-ki’s door before bed, offering a soft “Goodnight, Ni-ki. I’m here if you need me.” Even when the door never opened. Even when there was no answer.

It took three days before Ni-ki’s walls shifted even slightly.

It was late at night. Most of the dorm lights were out, the others asleep. Heeseung had just finished his usual quiet goodnight at the door when, faintly, the door creaked open.

Ni-ki stood there, hoodie hanging loose on his frame, shadows under his eyes. His voice was quiet — hesitant.
“Can you… stay for a little?”

Heeseung blinked, caught off guard, but his answer was immediate.
“Of course.”

He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t press. He simply sat on the floor near Ni-ki’s bed as the younger crawled under the blankets. No heavy talks. Just quiet presence. Eventually, Ni-ki’s breathing evened out — finally falling into restful sleep without the weight of isolation pressing on his chest.

The next morning, things didn’t magically fix. Ni-ki was still guarded. Still tired.
But when Jake placed tea in front of him at breakfast, Ni-ki whispered a quiet “Thank you.”

When Sunoo sat beside him with his sketchpad, Ni-ki peeked over his shoulder and murmured, “That looks nice.”

They were tiny cracks in the wall — but cracks nonetheless.

Later that afternoon, as the group prepared for dance practice, Jungwon gently approached him.
“Ni-ki… If practice is too much today, you can sit out. I’ll tell the company.”

Ni-ki’s eyes flickered. He hesitated, clearly caught between guilt and relief. But Jungwon gave him a small smile.
“You don’t have to prove anything to us anymore. Take the time you need.”

So Ni-ki sat on the side that day, wrapped in a hoodie, watching quietly as the others practiced. And to his surprise, no one guilted him. No one gave him that look. They just… kept glancing over, small smiles or thumbs-up, making sure he knew he was still included — even if he wasn’t dancing.

That evening, when Sunghoon left folded laundry on Ni-ki’s bed again, Ni-ki quietly walked to the living room, approached Sunghoon, and mumbled,
“Thank you… for not giving up on me.”

Sunghoon blinked — startled — then smiled softly. “We won’t. No matter how long it takes.”

It was on the seventh day that something shifted more clearly.

That morning, Ni-ki woke to find a small envelope slipped under his door. His name was written neatly on the front — familiar handwriting. Jungwon’s.

Inside was a simple note:

We’re not perfect. We hurt you, and we’ll probably make mistakes again… but we’ll always listen now. Whenever you’re ready to tell us everything — all of it — we’re ready. No pressure. Just when it feels right. I promise we won’t run away from it this time.

Wonie hyung.

For a long time, Ni-ki just sat on the edge of his bed, thumb brushing the paper. His chest tightened — not painfully like before, but in a strange, bittersweet way.
They really meant it. They weren’t giving up.

That evening, without saying anything, Ni-ki joined the others in the living room where they were quietly watching a movie. He sat between Jake and Sunghoon, his posture still cautious but less guarded. Jake smiled wordlessly and gently nudged a blanket over Ni-ki’s lap. No fanfare. No questions.

Halfway through the film, Ni-ki whispered, almost too soft to hear:
“Can we talk? After this?”

The room stilled. No one overreacted, but Jungwon, sitting across from him, simply nodded. “Of course.”

---

Later that night, they gathered in the living room again. No movie this time. Just the seven of them — cross-legged on the floor, scattered around like always, but this time, all their attention quietly on Ni-ki.

He sat with the blanket still around him, his fingers curling and uncurling nervously at the hem.

For a long while, he didn’t speak. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. The air felt thick but patient — no one rushed him.

Finally, in a strained breath, Ni-ki spoke.
“I didn’t even realize how much it was piling up… until I couldn’t breathe anymore.”

The words came slow, broken — but once they started, they didn’t stop.

He told them everything.
How the casual dismissals chipped away at him — how being brushed aside in conversations made him feel invisible.
How jokes about his “quietness” or “laziness” when he was just exhausted from pushing himself harder than anyone realized stung deeper than he ever showed.
How their stress — thrown carelessly as sharp words — left him feeling like a punching bag, like his feelings were always the easiest to overlook because he “could handle it.”

“I kept thinking if I just stayed quiet, it’d pass. That if I spoke up, I’d be bothering you even more. That maybe you wanted distance from me.”

His voice broke — a small crack.
“I thought maybe I didn’t matter to you anymore.”

Silence settled heavy and thick.
Tears gathered in Sunoo’s eyes instantly. Jake’s lips pressed tightly together, knuckles pale where his fists clenched on his lap. Sunghoon’s jaw trembled visibly. Jungwon’s eyes shone under the dim light, deep and filled with guilt.

Heeseung leaned forward, voice hoarse.
“You matter more than you’ll ever know, Ni-ki. We failed you. We made you feel small and invisible. That’s on us — not you.”

Jay exhaled shakily, his usual calm gone.
“I said so many stupid things. Brushed you off when you needed me to notice… I’m sorry.”

Ni-ki wiped at his eyes quickly with his sleeve, his lips pressing into a thin, wobbly line.
“I didn’t want to give up on us. But it just hurt too much… for too long.”

Jungwon crawled closer then, carefully sitting beside him but not touching him directly. His voice was soft but firm.
“You didn’t give up. You’re here. You told us. That’s the bravest thing you could’ve done.”

For the first time in days, Ni-ki let out a small, fragile breath — like releasing something he’d held too tightly for too long.

Jake reached over slowly, giving him time to pull away — but when Ni-ki didn’t flinch, Jake gently rested a hand over Ni-ki’s trembling fingers.
“From now on… no more pretending you’re okay when you’re not. Even if we mess up, even if it’s uncomfortable — tell us. Yell at us. Cry in front of us. Whatever you need. You won’t be a burden.”

Sunghoon nodded fiercely, his voice thick.
“We’ll listen. We’ll never ignore it again. I swear.”

Ni-ki blinked hard, more tears slipping free — but this time, when Heeseung opened his arms in silent offering, Ni-ki didn’t hesitate.

He leaned forward, folding into Heeseung’s chest as the others carefully wrapped around them. It wasn’t suffocating — it was grounding. Solid. Warm. Real.

No one rushed him to stop crying. No one told him to “be strong.”
They just held him — steady and present.

That night, for the first time in what felt like forever, Ni-ki fell asleep knowing with certainty:
He wasn’t too much.
He wasn’t invisible.
And even though trust had shattered once… they were already stitching it back together — piece by piece, with patience and love.

Chapter Text

In a pack, bonds were meant to be unbreakable.
Meant to be.

For Ni-ki, those invisible threads tying him to his hyungs had frayed quietly—subtly—until they nearly vanished.
He was the youngest omega. Quiet. Resilient. Independent in ways that perhaps an omega should not have needed to be.

Jungwon didn’t mean to be the center of their universe. He didn’t demand it, didn’t ask. But somehow, effortlessly, naturally, he was.
Gentle Jungwon, soft and kind, drew their gazes like gravity. The pack's first omega.They hovered around him instinctively:
Heeseung’s large hands always ruffling his hair, Jay’s jackets draped over his shoulders, Jake’s careful snacks packed in his bag, Sunghoon’s silent guard over his every move, Sunoo’s endless cups of tea and sweet treats.
The five alphas orbited him as though nothing else could rival his light.

Ni-ki stayed in the background.
At first, he didn’t mind.
He told himself he preferred it. That independence was strength. That omegas didn’t need doting to be valid.
But time is cruel when paired with neglect.
A thousand tiny dismissals carved away at his walls until cracks spiderwebbed deep.

He tried to reach out.
Small things, soft and careful.
A brush of his fingers against Jay’s sleeve. A quiet offering of coffee to Jake. Sitting a little closer beside Sunghoon. A hopeful glance at Heeseung.
But his touches slid unnoticed off their skin. His words dissolved unheard in the air. His smiles dimmed unanswered.

It hollowed him out slowly.
Until numb became easier than hope.
Until silence felt safer than reaching out again.

---

That night, practice ran long.
The others left together—arms slung over shoulders, laughter echoing into the cool dusk as Jungwon tugged them forward.
Ni-ki lingered.
He packed up slower than necessary. Adjusted laces that didn’t need fixing. Folded shirts twice over.
When he finally stepped outside, the streets shimmered damp under soft rain. His limbs dragged with exhaustion and something deeper—an ache brewing low in his abdomen, quiet but insistent. His suppressants were thinning; heat wasn’t full yet, but the warning signs stirred faint and sharp.

He tugged his hoodie tighter. He’d make it home fast.
He always did.
He always had to.

He didn’t notice the two shadows peel away from the alley until they were already blocking his path.

“Hey there, sweetheart.”
Two unfamiliar alphas. Older, taller. Their broad shoulders loomed, cutting off the narrow sidewalk ahead.
Their scents hit him hard — thick, sharp, invasive. Unwelcome dominance curled into his lungs, choking.

Ni-ki froze. His heart slammed against his ribs. His feet shuffled sideways instinctively.
His scent flared faintly in distress — a thin, involuntary spike of omega fear.

“Aww… omega in distress, huh?”
One grinned slowly, stepping closer.
“You walking home alone, baby? That’s dangerous. Your pack should be here, shouldn’t they?”

The words carved deeper than they should have.
His chest squeezed painfully. His lips parted, voice weak.
“I—I’m fine… I’m going home…”

A hand grabbed his wrist.
Tight, bruising fingers clamped around fragile bone. His body jolted violently. His breath seized.
“Don’t be like that,” the alpha sneered. “We’re just trying to help. You’re clearly close to heat. Bet you’re aching already, huh?”

The second alpha leaned in, voice slick and cruel.
“Or maybe your pack doesn’t give a damn about you. Bet they don’t even notice you’re gone, do they?”

That cut to the bone.
Ni-ki’s throat closed. His breath crumbled in fast gasps. His eyes burned hot.
He yanked his arm desperately—but the grip tightened, nails biting into skin.
His vision blurred with panic.
He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to disappear—

Fingers brushed his jaw.
His eyes snapped open wide. His body flinched so violently it slammed into the brick wall behind him. His nails clawed blindly at rough concrete. His knees buckled under him.He could already feel their dirty mouths on his nape. Marking him . Deep red hickeys on his neck.
His heart screamed inside his chest—
No one’s coming.
They don’t see me.
They never did.

Tears blurred his vision. His lips parted in a silent, shattered sob—

A howl split the night.
Low, guttural, feral.
Then: snarls. Boots thundering pavement.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM!”
Heeseung’s voice tore through the dark like lightning.
Jay’s snarl echoed next, deep and murderous.
Jake’s growl rumbled sharp and raw.
Sunghoon’s hiss sliced through the air.
Sunoo’s voice cracked in fury.

The strangers froze, paling fast.
Heeseung lunged, claws unsheathed, ripping the grip off Ni-ki’s wrist. Jay and Jake tackled hard, dominance rolling like wildfire.
Sunghoon and Sunoo boxed them in, teeth bared.
Jungwon dropped beside Ni-ki instantly, shielding him tight.

The intruders fled fast, stumbling over themselves.

But the damage had already sunk too deep.

Ni-ki’s whole frame shook violently. His breath came in ragged, thin bursts.
Jake stepped forward cautiously, hand out—

Ni-ki snapped.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!”
The scream tore from his chest, raw and shattering.
He threw himself back against the wall, arms flailing defensively.
“DON’T—DON’T—GET AWAY—DON’T TOUCH—!”

His voice broke into jagged sobs mid-shout, choking on sharp gasps. His limbs thrashed weakly, pushing away invisible hands.
His eyes were wide, glazed with terror. His nails scraped wildly against brick.

Heeseung froze instantly, throat closing.
Jay staggered back, breath knocked out.
Jake’s trembling hand dropped, lips parting in horror.

“Riki—Riki, it’s us—baby, it’s us—we won’t touch you—I swear—” Heeseung’s voice shattered.
But Ni-ki didn’t hear them.
His shoulders crumpled tight, nails digging into his own arms until red crescents bloomed.
His chest heaved as he curled into himself, sobbing openly now. His scent bled pure, raw distress.

Jungwon dropped to his knees, voice shaking.
“We won’t touch you—we promise—we’re here, Riki—we’re here…”

They didn’t move closer.
They didn’t dare.

They sat there —five broken-hearted alphas, and an understanding older omega , kneeling in the dark wet street, close but distant.
They stayed all night.
Until his sobs ebbed.
Until his trembling slowed.
Until he came back to them on his terms.

---

The Day After

Morning arrived grey and heavy. The world turned as if nothing had fractured.

Inside the dorm, it felt like time stood still.

Ni-ki curled at the corner of the couch, knees tight to chest, hoodie sleeves stretched over shaking fists.
His face was pale, eyes hollowed dark. His breath came fast and shallow. His scent clung sharp and thin, distressed omega pheromones heavy in every corner of the apartment.

The others sat scattered carefully.
Heeseung, back to the wall, hands limp and useless in his lap, gaze glassy and red-rimmed.
Jay hunched on the coffee table, face buried in his palms, silent tears slipping through trembling fingers.
Jake hovered in the kitchen doorway, frozen, gaze locked on Ni-ki’s curled form, shattered guilt hollowing his chest.
Sunghoon stood by the window, jaw clenched to hide the quake in his lips. His eyes never left Ni-ki.
Sunoo and Jungwon sat on the floor, crumpled tissues forgotten in shaking hands, breaths unsteady.

They moved slow.
Every shift was deliberate.
Every sound measured.
Eyes flicked to Ni-ki first before anyone breathed.

But still—
The smallest things made him flinch.
When Jake’s spoon clinked too loud on the counter, Ni-ki’s shoulders jerked violently.
When Sunghoon stretched stiff limbs, Ni-ki shrank tighter into the couch arm.
When Jay's voice accidentally lifted too sharp, Ni-ki’s hands snapped to his ears instantly, gasping fast and panicked.

Heeseung’s voice cracked softly, chest heaving.
“I don’t care how long it takes…” His throat bobbed hard. His eyes locked on Ni-ki, glistening.
“We’ll make this right, baby.
Even if it takes forever.
We won’t leave you again.”

And they didn’t.
Not that day.
Not ever again.

Weeks later

The world didn’t snap back into place overnight.
Fractures like that don’t heal cleanly.
They ache deep under scar tissue, echoing in quiet moments and long silences.

For days after, Ni-ki still flinched at shadows.
He woke gasping, drenched in sweat, from dreams where unfamiliar hands clawed at him.
He sat curled on the couch or hunched in corners of the practice room, hoodie pulled over his head like armor, voice small and quiet as if anything louder might break him apart again.

The others never rushed him.
Not once.

They moved softly around him, their towering alpha presence dialed all the way down, muted like echoes.
No sudden movements. No loud calls.
Their voices always dropped gentle when speaking near him — soft, velvety, reverent as if speaking to glass.

But despite the pack’s cautious kindness, Ni-ki held everything in.
He smiled softly sometimes.
He nodded along, ate his meals slowly, even allowed brief touches.
But no one saw the storm brewing deep under his fragile calm.

Until the day it finally broke.

—

It started small.
A casual afternoon — the pack chatting softly in the living room, sunlight pooling across the floor.
Heeseung had left another soft blanket folded by Ni-ki’s seat. Jay had prepared tea and set a cup at Ni-ki’s spot. Jake offered a gentle smile from across the room.

Ni-ki stood frozen in the doorway, hoodie sleeves clenched in his fists, breath coming shallow and fast. His heartbeat thudded too loud in his ears.
Their soft voices. Their careful glances. Their gentle gifts.
It was too much. And not enough.
It was all… too late.

He stumbled backward, chest heaving.
Sunghoon noticed first. “Ni-ki?” His voice gentle. He rose slowly to approach.
Ni-ki flinched violently, hands shooting up in front of him.
“No—don’t—don’t touch me—!”

His voice cracked. Loud, raw, breaking apart.
Everyone froze instantly.

Ni-ki’s breath caught on a sobbing hiccup, and then the dam shattered.
Tears spilled hot and fast down his cheeks as his knees buckled under him.
He collapsed onto the floor, curling into himself, fists pressed against his mouth as broken, choked screams tore free.

“Y-you don’t get to just— just act like nothing happened! You don’t get to act like you care—” His voice cracked sharp on the last word, jagged with weeks, months of buried pain.
“You didn’t care. Not when it mattered. Not when I needed you.”
His sobs wracked his thin frame, deep and gut-wrenching, raw like something torn from his chest.

“I begged. I tried so hard. I smiled and I laughed and I worked so hard to be good, to be worth your time, and you— you didn’t even look at me!”
His voice splintered again as he gripped the hem of his hoodie tight, knuckles white, tears pouring unchecked.
“You d-doted on Jungwon, you always listened to him, always helped him, and I thought… I thought if I just— if I just tried harder, you’d see me too—”
A loud, broken sob tore from his throat.
“B-but you didn’t! You didn’t! You forgot me and then— then those other alphas—” His breath snapped shallow and panicked, chest heaving violently.
“I was almost— they almost— I— I—”

His body shook uncontrollably now, soft keening whimpers breaking past his lips.
“I'm s-so tired. So tired of fighting to be seen. Of pretending I don’t care. I’m just… so tired.”

Sunoo was openly crying now. His lips parted, breath trembling as his hands shook violently in his lap.
Jay’s jaw was clenched so tight the muscles ticked painfully. His eyes blazed glassy red, shoulders trembling as silent tears slipped down his sharp cheeks.
Jake wiped at his face with trembling fingers, biting hard into his lip to keep from sobbing aloud.
Heeseung was weeping freely into his palms, shoulders shaking violently.
Sunghoon’s fists were white-knuckled against his knees, jaw locked and throat moving visibly as he swallowed back broken noises.
Jungwon sat completely still, his own tears slipping fast, guilt etched deep into every soft line of his face.He felt bad for not asking how Ni-ki's feeling before it's too late.aV

Ni-ki curled smaller on the floor, as if he could disappear into himself. His voice dropped to a small, shattered whisper:
“I thought maybe you didn’t want me anymore… maybe you didn’t need me anymore.”

Silence rang heavy and devastating in the room.
Then Heeseung moved first — slow, careful, crawling on hands and knees across the room, tears streaking freely down his cheeks.
He sank onto the floor next to Ni-ki, not touching him, just close enough for Ni-ki to feel his warmth. His voice cracked, deep and broken:

“Baby, look at me. Please.”
Ni-ki shook his head violently, burying his face harder into his hoodie sleeves.
Heeseung’s voice cracked harder, desperate, trembling:
“We failed you. We forgot you. We broke our promise to protect you. That’s on us — not you. Never you.”
He reached up, tears dripping onto his wrist, and pressed a shaking hand to his own chest, voice raw:
“If you never trust us again… if you never want to be near us again… we’ll understand. But please… know that you are everything to us. That you’ve always been.”

Jay’s breath broke loud behind him as he crumbled to his knees too, wiping fiercely at his wet cheeks.
Jake followed, tears falling silently.
Sunghoon crouched low, throat bobbing hard.
Sunoo pressed trembling fingers to his mouth, sobbing quietly but moving closer.
Jungwon slid next to Ni-ki carefully, small and soft, voice cracking:
“I see you now. We all see you now. And we’re so sorry, Ni-ki. So, so sorry.”

Ni-ki’s shoulders jerked once, a strangled sob ripping free.
For long minutes, he just cried.
Screamed it out into his sleeves.
Let the devastation tear through him fully, raw and unhidden, no longer buried.

And the pack?
They stayed.
On their knees. In his space.
Letting his storm rage.
Not fleeing. Not shushing. Not dismissing.
Just holding space for his pain to breathe.

Slowly — achingly slowly — Ni-ki’s sobs softened. His breathing slowed from frantic gasps to shallow shudders. His body sagged exhausted, trembling.
Heeseung, voice hoarse and shaking, whispered:
“Can I—? Baby, can I touch you? Only if you want me to.”

Ni-ki’s breath caught.
Silence stretched long.
Then — hesitantly, eyes squeezed tight — Ni-ki nodded once. Tiny. Fragile.

Heeseung’s hand shook as he gently pressed his palm to Ni-ki’s small back. Warm. Solid. Steady.
The others didn’t crowd — but one by one, slow and cautious, soft fingertips brushed Ni-ki’s hoodie sleeve, his shoulder, his ankle.
No pressure. No weight. Just presence.
A silent vow.

Ni-ki broke again — this time with soft, relieved cries.
And in that moment, as gentle warmth surrounded him fully at last, the weight in his chest loosened just enough to breathe again.

—

The healing after that was different.
Softer. Truer.

Ni-ki spoke more now — his fears, his doubts, his boundaries.
The pack listened, not just with ears but with hearts wide open.
And over weeks, slowly but steadily, Ni-ki’s trust stitched back together.

He allowed touches again.
He sat between them, curled against soft shoulders.
He smiled more — small but real.
His laughter, once cracked and fragile, grew warm and full.

And one quiet night, when the pack least expected it—
Ni-ki crawled into Heeseung’s lap on his own, burying his face into Heeseung’s chest. His voice muffled but steady:
“I still get scared. But… I want to stay. I want to try again. With all of you.”

Heeseung’s breath cracked into a sob as he crushed Ni-ki carefully into his chest, whispering:
“We’ll spend forever making it right, baby. We swear.”

And the pack circled around, arms layered, heads resting close, warmth pressed into every inch of Ni-ki’s small frame.
No one spoke for a long time.
They didn’t need to.

The bond was healing.
Fractured, yes — but sealed with truth, love, and promises meant to last a lifetime.

Ni-ki was no longer forgotten.
He was no longer alone.
He was their Ni-ki. Their beloved omega.
Seen. Cherished. Safe.

And this time —
Forever.

The first time Ni-ki went into heat after everything had happened was different.
This time, there was no panic. No isolation. No shame.

He could feel it coming on — the warmth in his skin, the heat in his blood. The tremors beneath his ribs as his body began to ache for something he couldn’t control.

But this time, he wasn’t alone.

He knew the signs now, and he could feel his pulse racing with the usual overwhelming sensations. His body was reacting the way it always had, but this time, the soft dread in his chest didn’t suffocate him.

He stayed in his room, curled up on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest.
The door was open just a crack, and the pack knew. They could feel it, too, the subtle tension in the air, the way Ni-ki’s scent shifted, a deepened sweetness of ripe strawberries mingled with the heady musk of an omega in heat. It was intoxicating, thickening the atmosphere in the room. The sweet, warm aroma that Ni-ki naturally gave off now felt magnified, mixed with the deeper, almost urgent scent of his body reacting to his cycle.

Jungwon was the first to approach, his presence quiet, measured. He knocked once before entering the room, his gaze soft but focused. The scent of strawberries mixed with the air between them, making his breath catch slightly as he entered. He couldn't help but inhale deeply. There was something so purely Ni-ki about it, and it made him ache to comfort him.
But Jungwon's own pheromones — a fresh blend of eucalyptus and soft lavender — mixed with the air, delicate but sharp, grounding the environment. His scent was calming, a slight edge of clarity cutting through the heat, keeping everything from becoming too overwhelming. It soothed the confusion that Ni-ki might be feeling. The subtle presence of his pheromones offered a balance to the overwhelming sensations Ni-ki was experiencing.
Ni-ki’s body stiffened, but he didn’t flinch away. Jungwon walked in and sat at the edge of the bed, not too close, but there.
“I’m here, Ni-ki,” he said, his voice warm and calm, not the usual playful tone he carried but something deeper, more nurturing.

Ni-ki’s lips parted, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, his fingers clutched the blanket tightly.

Heeseung was the next to follow, silently slipping into the room. He was quiet, just standing near the doorway, watching Ni-ki closely. He could feel the heat radiating off of him, a pulse of something raw and vulnerable. The scent of strawberries was thick in the air now, mixed with a faint, intoxicating bitterness of Ni-ki’s heat. Heeseung’s breath caught, and he could feel his own scent — rich and earthy like cedarwood and musk — starting to mingle with the heavy air. The sharpness of his scent was a stark contrast to Ni-ki’s sweet fragrance, but the warmth of the cedarwood in his pheromones offered a sense of protection, grounding the room. It wasn’t invasive, but steady, like a constant presence that kept the environment calm.
“I’ll go get you some water, okay?” Heeseung spoke softly, his voice steady, with no rush in it.

Ni-ki’s gaze flickered briefly toward Heeseung, and he nodded, though he didn’t have the energy to speak.

While Heeseung stepped out, Jake appeared in the doorway next.
He hovered, not entering just yet, eyes scanning Ni-ki’s form. His posture was stiff, full of respect and caution, aware of how fragile the situation was. The air around them had grown heavy with the scents of their heat, but there was a sense of calm about Jake. His own pheromones — deep, warm, spicy cinnamon with a hint of vanilla — filled the space, subtly responding to the call of Ni-ki’s own scent. His aroma wasn’t overwhelming, but there was an intensity in his presence, like a warm blanket enveloping the space. The scent of cinnamon, a little spicy yet comforting, wrapped Ni-ki in a cocoon of safety.
“You’re okay,” Jake said, almost as a reminder, a gentle whisper.

Ni-ki nodded again, closing his eyes for a moment, letting the sensations in his body take hold of him.

The heat hit him hard, like a wave crashing against his senses. His breath caught in his throat, and his body trembled, the tension in his muscles making it hard to stay still. A faint whimper escaped him before he could stop it.

Jungwon moved closer then, his voice low and soothing. “Ni-ki, you don’t have to hide it from us. We’re here. We’re not leaving.”

He reached out, his fingertips just grazing Ni-ki’s arm, not forcing contact but offering it gently. Ni-ki’s breath hitched again, but he didn’t pull away. Jungwon’s touch was like a balm to his nerves, cool against the heat that consumed him. His own strawberry scent had begun to mix with the sharper, more masculine fragrances in the room. Jungwon could feel the subtle urge to claim the space — to release his own pheromones, to respond to Ni-ki’s distress with the power of his alpha scent. But he held back, only letting the slightest hint of his own pheromones reach Ni-ki, a faint promise of safety.

Jake entered the room fully now, holding a bowl of ice chips in his hands. He sat next to Ni-ki, his expression tender, his gaze soft. As he settled down, the scent of warm, spicy cinnamon mixed with the air, unmistakable. It wasn’t overwhelming but was enough to fill the room with a sense of comfort and warmth. “Here, eat these,” he said, holding the bowl up.

Ni-ki’s body jerked slightly as he took the ice, his breath shallow, eyes clouded with discomfort. He gripped the edge of the bowl tightly, his hands shaking. “I… I don’t want to be a burden,” he whispered, voice cracking. His chest was tight, and the vulnerability he felt made him want to shrink into himself.

Jake’s hand reached out, resting on his knee, his touch grounding. “You’re not a burden, Ni-ki,” he said firmly. “Never. We’re here for you. All of us. Always.”

The soft sounds of their pheromones mingled in the air — a gentle caress, not an overwhelming call, but a presence. Ni-ki could feel them now, their presence more than just physical. The scent of strawberries, peaches, lavender, cedarwood, spicy cinnamon, and rain blended into one comforting, soft atmosphere.

And then, the moment came when they knew it was time. They couldn’t just sit by and let him go through this alone. They were the pack, and they would make sure Ni-ki felt safe and protected.

Sunghoon, usually the quiet one, came forward with a few soft blankets, his movements smooth. “We’re building a nest for you,” he said, his voice soft but confident.

Ni-ki’s heart fluttered at the thought. The nest. It was an instinctive act — a gesture of care and protection. His scent had already stirred something inside them all, a deep, instinctual need to care for him in his vulnerable state.

The room shifted as they worked together. Jungwon moved to one side, pulling soft pillows and blankets from the nearby cupboard, his lavender scent filling the air as he placed them carefully around Ni-ki. Heeseung was already on the other side, fluffing pillows and adding extra layers, the scent of cedarwood and musk adding a comforting weight to the space.

Jake, always the one to care for everyone’s needs, added a warm blanket, his cinnamon aroma lingering in the air. It gave the room a comforting feel, like being wrapped in warmth, soft and enveloping.

They weren’t just building a nest; they were building a safe haven.

Sunghoon carefully adjusted the blankets, adding a soft sheet of silk beneath Ni-ki’s body to give him the best comfort possible. His cool, rain-scented pheromones worked like a soothing balm as he organized the layers with precision.

Then, Sunoo entered, his peachy sweet scent lifting the mood even further. He brought more blankets, placing them with delicate care around Ni-ki’s form. His warmth seemed to bring out a calm, gentling the heat swirling through the air. He smiled gently, his presence like a gentle caress.

Finally, Jay stepped in, his amber-tobacco scent stronger than before, wrapping around Ni-ki like a shield. “Here,” he said, kneeling down to help set the last layer of blankets in place. His scent was protective, steady, grounding the space even more.

They finished the nest. The soft, pillowy walls surrounded Ni-ki, creating a cocoon of warmth, softness, and protection. The sweet scent of strawberries lingered heavily, but now there was the added comfort of their collective scents — the warmth of cinnamon, the calming lavender, the grounding cedarwood, and the refreshing rain.

Ni-ki curled up within the nest they had created, feeling the comfort of their care around him. They had given him space, but they had also made sure he was safe. He didn’t need to be alone anymore. Not ever again.

“You’re safe here, Riki,” Jungwon whispered, his voice just a breath away.

Ni-ki let out a soft, trembling breath, closing his eyes, finally allowing himself to relax into the warmth they had created for him.

And as the heat still coursed through his body, he knew, for the first time, that he wasn’t just an omega — he was their youngest omega.

They would always take care of him.

Chapter Text

---

The idea had started as harmless fun.

They’d all been sprawled across the dorm living room late one evening, thick laughter echoing between soft cushions and crumpled snack wrappers. The glow of warm lamplight painted lazy shadows across their relaxed bodies — Jay flipping through a dog-eared notebook of comeback notes, Jungwon curled into the couch corner, Sunoo perched lightly beside him. Ni-ki, long legs folded comfortably, rested against Heeseung’s side, head nodding gently to the rhythm of his boyfriend’s quiet humming.

It had felt peaceful. Familiar. Safe.

Until Sunghoon, lips quirked in soft mischief, mused aloud,
“What if, tomorrow… we switched it up? Instead of doting on Riki, we treat Jungwon and Sunoo like the maknaes?”

Jay had sat up instantly, brow arched with intrigue. “Ignore Riki?”

Heeseung chuckled lowly, his fingers lazily tracing circles on the back of Ni-ki’s hand. “He always pretends to be tough anyway. Bet he’ll pout like crazy.”

They all laughed. Easy. Light-hearted.
And even Heeseung, who usually couldn’t go an hour without trailing soft touches along Ni-ki’s neck or whispering secret reassurances against his ear, smiled easily.

“Just one day,” Heeseung had said confidently, pressing a fleeting kiss to Ni-ki’s crown.
“He’ll understand.”

---

By morning, the game was on.

Ni-ki noticed the shift immediately.

When he padded into the kitchen — hoodie oversized on his frame, dark lashes still heavy with sleep — no one looked up from where they were gathered around Jungwon and Sunoo. Jay fed Jungwon spoonfuls of yogurt, Sunghoon offered peeled tangerine slices into Sunoo’s giggling lips. Even the managers, grinning wide and in on the prank, fawned over the two, ruffling hair and pressing snacks into their hands.

Heeseung didn’t even glance up as Ni-ki shuffled past him quietly to grab a bowl.
Instead, his boyfriend smiled fondly down at Jungwon, brushing crumbs gently from his chin with a soft murmur:
“Don’t get messy, baby.”

Ni-ki blinked.
His fingers curled slightly tighter around the chopsticks in his hand.

Okay… just a joke. It’s fine.
He could handle it. He could play along.

---

But the hours dragged on.

On the ride to the music show recording, Jungwon and Sunoo got the front seats. Ni-ki sat quietly in the back, earbuds in with no music playing. His gaze stayed fixed out the window, lips pressed thin.

At rehearsal, staff circled Sunoo and Jungwon endlessly — fussing with collars, adjusting laces, offering snacks and gentle praise.
Ni-ki hovered silently at the edge of the room.
No stylist smoothed his hair.
No manager asked if he’d eaten.
No member looked his way.

Heeseung…
God, Heeseung.

Heeseung ruffled Jungwon’s hair affectionately.
Heeseung kissed the corner of Sunoo’s forehead.
Heeseung didn’t touch Ni-ki once.

Hour after hour, the distance widened.
And inside Ni-ki, something cracked wider and wider open, cold and raw.

By late afternoon, he could barely breathe.
His throat was tight. His chest was hollow and burning all at once.

Heeseung had just flicked a stray eyelash from Jungwon’s cheek, smiling fondly, when Ni-ki quietly slipped out of the room.

No one noticed.
Of course they didn’t.

---

The practice room was cool and dim.
Silent. Too silent.

Ni-ki sat heavily on the floor, back sliding down the glass mirror until he crumpled fully, legs folding beneath him. His palms splayed uselessly on the floor. His breath came short and shallow, thick pressure crushing his chest.

He lasted three minutes.

Three minutes of biting his lip raw, swallowing hard, blinking furiously—

Then the tears broke loose.

Hot. Unrelenting.
They poured down his cheeks in thick streams as his body curled in on itself, shoulders heaving with ragged sobs that tore from his chest uncontrollably.

“I’m so stupid—” he gasped harshly, voice cracking deep and broken. His fists slammed uselessly against his thighs. “I thought I mattered to you guys. I thought I was your maknae—your boyfriend.”

His jaw clenched tight, a strangled laugh catching painfully in his throat.

“I gave everything to you. I always do.” His voice shot higher, sharper now, edged with something raw and splintered. “I work until I drop, I smile when I’m exhausted—hell, I wait around like a damn fool just to be near you, Heeseung—”

His lips twisted bitterly, tears streaming harder.
“And you couldn’t even look at me today.”

His voice cracked fully into a sob.

“I hate you…” he choked, fists trembling violently. “I hate that I love you so much.”

Anger and heartbreak coiled sharp in his chest, collapsing him forward until his forehead pressed to the cool wooden floor, sobs wracking his frame.

---

The door burst open.

“Riki—!”

Heeseung’s voice shattered through the room, thick with panic.

Ni-ki jerked upright violently, tear-soaked gaze locking onto his boyfriend—
And something snapped clean and vicious inside him.

“DON’T,” Ni-ki spat sharply, voice low and shaking. His shoulders trembled, his jaw clenched so hard it ached. “Don’t say my name. Don’t even look at me right now.”

Heeseung froze mid-step, like the words physically hit him.

“I sat there all day,” Ni-ki hissed, voice raw and splintered. His chest heaved hard as his fists shook violently at his sides. “Watching you hold Jungwon. Watching you feed Sunoo. Watching you kiss someone else’s forehead—like I didn’t even exist.”

He staggered up to his feet — sharp, jerky movements.

“I waited. I kept waiting for you to remember me. But you didn’t even care that I was gone.”

Heeseung’s lips parted helplessly, eyes wide, throat working furiously.

“Baby, it was just a prank—we thought it’d be harmless—”

“MAYBE YOU SHOULD’VE THOUGHT HARDER,” Ni-ki roared suddenly, chest heaving. His tear-streaked face twisted painfully, voice cracking. “Because it didn’t feel like a joke. It felt real.
It felt like you didn’t want me anymore.”

His body buckled slightly, knees shaking. His voice dropped to a whisper so broken it barely held shape.

“I thought I lost you…”

---

Heeseung was across the room in an instant.

His hands lifted gently, reverently—like Ni-ki might shatter beneath his touch. His palms cupped Ni-ki’s wet, burning cheeks, thumbs trembling as they brushed away streams of tears.

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung choked out, breath hitching hard in his chest. His dark eyes swam, wide and shattered. “I’m so sorry, Riki. Baby. We were so stupid. I was so stupid. You are everything to me. You’re mine. My golden boy. My baby. My love. There is no world where I don’t want you.”

His voice cracked fully, thick tears slipping down his own cheeks now.

“I will spend every second proving it to you if you’ll let me.”

He sank to his knees, pulling Ni-ki into his chest fiercely, arms locking tight around his trembling frame, holding him like something sacred and irreplaceable.

Ni-ki resisted for half a second — fists still clenched tight against Heeseung’s hoodie — but then the dam burst fully. His body crumpled into Heeseung’s, face burying against his shoulder with a fresh, broken sob. His hands fisted in the fabric desperately, clinging like his life depended on it.

The other members hovered silently around them, faces stricken and guilt-ridden.

“I’m sorry, Riki,” Jay murmured hoarsely, sinking to the floor beside them. His hand gently covered Ni-ki’s knee. “We were idiots.”

Sunoo sniffled quietly, eyes glossy. “You’re our maknae. Always.”

Sunghoon crouched low, guilt painting his features. Jungwon reached out carefully, threading their fingers through Ni-ki’s cold ones, squeezing gently.

“We’ll make it up to you,” Jungwon whispered earnestly. “We promise.”

---

Later that night , the city outside hummed faintly under midnight’s hush, distant car lights smearing gold and crimson across their apartment walls. The bedroom felt heavy with unspoken emotions, thick and still like the air before a summer storm. Riki sat on the edge of their bed, legs tucked under him, his hoodie sliding off one slender shoulder. His lower lip was caught stubbornly between his teeth, jaw tight — silent, simmering.

Heeseung lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame with hands deep in his pockets, eyes never leaving the younger boy. His gaze was dark, deep pools of regret and something hotter, something rawer. Earlier, he’d laughed too much, played too long, doting exaggeratedly on Sunoo and Jungwon in front of Riki — soft praises, playful touches — all while Riki had stood back, quiet, lips thin and fingers clenched at his sides.

Heeseung finally crossed the room, slow and deliberate, his tall frame casting shadows across the bed. “Baby…” His voice was low, velvety, threaded with apology and hunger all at once. “You’re still angry at me.”

Riki’s sharp gaze flickered up, fiery and cutting through the quiet like glass. Heeseung loved that look—loved when Riki got possessive, lips pursed and brows slightly furrowed, jealousy painting his pretty features. But tonight? Tonight it wasn’t a game anymore. He’d pushed too far.

“You made me look pathetic today,” Riki murmured, voice tight and trembling. “You knew I hated it. You knew… and you kept doing it anyway.” His breath caught, lashes lowering. His vulnerability lay bare between them, achingly clear.

Heeseung knelt before him, his knees sinking into the mattress, palms resting on Riki’s thighs as he tilted his head up. “No, baby. You’re not pathetic. You’re mine. And I should’ve never made you doubt that.” His thumbs stroked slow circles against Riki’s skin through the thin fabric of his shorts, eyes unwavering, voice deepening as the tension crackled hotter between them. “I’m going to spend all night making that up to you.”

Heeseung’s hands slid upward, fingers slipping beneath Riki’s hoodie to splay across the bare skin of his waist, fingertips cool and reverent. He leaned in, lips brushing softly against the delicate curve of Riki’s collarbone, then lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the hollow of his throat.

Riki gasped, small and involuntary, his hips twitching forward slightly as Heeseung’s mouth dragged languidly across his sensitive skin. “You’re so easy to melt, aren’t you, baby?” Heeseung murmured with a smirk against his neck, voice husky. “You act mad… but all you wanted was my hands on you. My lips on you.”

Riki shivered, a breathy whimper slipping past his lips as Heeseung’s teeth grazed the side of his neck—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make him tremble. His thighs parted instinctively under Heeseung’s touch, surrendering without a word.

“You get me like no one else does, Riki. You own me.” Heeseung’s voice broke slightly with how fiercely he meant it. His hands gripped Riki’s hips, pulling him flush against his own body, and Riki felt it — the growing heat pressing against him, thick and demanding. His breath stuttered, cheeks flushing beautifully.

Heeseung tugged the hoodie over Riki’s head slowly, deliberately, as though unwrapping something precious. His lips returned instantly, tracing down Riki’s chest, tongue flicking teasingly over a pert nipple until Riki arched involuntarily, a needy sound slipping out.

“That’s it, baby,” Heeseung praised, voice rich and dark. His fingers slid lower, hooking into Riki’s waistband. “Tell me what you need from me tonight. I’ll give you anything.”

“I need you to ruin me,” Riki finally gasped out, his voice thin and wrecked already, hands gripping desperately at Heeseung’s shoulders. “I need to feel you — only you. Show me I’m yours.”

Heeseung’s groan vibrated deep in his chest, primal and desperate. “Oh, I’m going to do more than show you.”

He pressed Riki flat against the bed, lips devouring his with an intensity that left them both breathless, hands roaming eagerly, almost greedy. His touch mapped out every inch of Riki’s lithe body — reverent but possessive — as if to burn the truth into his skin: You’re the only one I want.

Clothes scattered to the floor, forgotten. Their bodies tangled, gasps and moans echoing softly through the darkened room, breath mingling hot and fast. Heeseung’s movements were slow but deep, purposeful — like he was savoring every second of reclaiming what was always his.

Riki writhed beneath him, head thrown back against the pillows, flushed and trembling, soft sounds spilling from parted lips that drove Heeseung mad. His hands never left Riki’s body — holding, gripping, caressing — as if anchoring him there forever.

“You take me so well, baby,” Heeseung panted against Riki’s ear, pressing a long, deep thrust that had Riki sobbing with pleasure. “Look at you — no one else will ever get to see you like this. No one else will ever make you fall apart like I do.”

Riki’s nails raked down Heeseung’s back, breathless cries dissolving into moans of Heeseung’s name. Heeseung kissed him again, messy and raw, before whispering against his lips, voice thick with love and desire,

“I’m yours, Riki. Always have been. Always will be. Only you.”

And as the night stretched on — bodies tangled, hearts beating wildly in sync — Riki felt every inch of Heeseung’s devotion carved into him, over and over again, until all doubt burned away under the weight of their love and pleasure.

Chapter Text

When they freshly a rookie under HYBE labels It was harder than he thought it would be.
Riki had known it wouldn’t be simple, moving to a new country so young, chasing a dream that shimmered and burned all at once. But nothing could have prepared him for the quiet ache that settled in his chest every night — the ache of unfamiliar ceilings, unfamiliar words, unfamiliar voices that danced too quickly for him to catch.

He sat alone in the practice room long after midnight, the hum of the fluorescent lights buzzing above him. His notebook was open on his lap, pages scribbled with Korean phrases he didn’t understand fully yet. His fingers gripped the pencil tight enough to hurt.
He had to be good enough. If he faltered, even for a moment, it would slip away — like it almost had during the survival show.
He swallowed hard. His throat felt tight.

He didn’t hear Jungwon come in. Only felt the quiet weight of a hand on his shoulder — steady, grounding. He blinked up and met his leader’s eyes. Jungwon didn’t say much. He never overwhelmed him with words when Riki’s walls were up. Instead, he sat beside him, pulling out his phone with slow, deliberate movements.
Moments later, soft Japanese text glowed on the screen:
It’s okay. You’re doing well. You don’t have to be perfect all at once.
Riki’s vision blurred for a split second before he looked away, blinking quickly. Jungwon didn’t push. He simply sat close enough for Riki to lean on if he wanted to — close enough to remind him that not all pressure meant suffocation.

Heeseung found him differently. He always had this way of sensing when Riki’s mind was too loud, too full. On days like that, Heeseung wouldn’t ask questions. He would sit down beside him on the dorm couch and hand him one side of a headphone splitter.
Sometimes it was gentle piano music, sometimes lo-fi beats. No words — just music that filled the space between them without asking anything back. Riki would close his eyes and let it wash over him. Beside him, Heeseung would hum softly, voice low and velvety, a quiet reminder: You don’t have to speak for me to understand.
It was safe, sitting like that. Riki had forgotten what safe felt like.

Jay, on the other hand, bridged the distance in small, thoughtful gestures that left Riki quietly breathless. One day, after noticing him pushing food around on his plate, Jay had dragged him into the kitchen.
Riki’s breath caught when he saw the dish on the counter. Tamagoyaki. The rolled omelet was a little uneven, slightly overcooked in places — but it was unmistakable.
"I thought… maybe you’d miss home food sometimes," Jay said awkwardly, scratching at his neck. His accent in Japanese was rough, but his smile was soft. "I watched like… twenty videos trying to get it right."
Riki didn’t say anything at first. His throat felt too full. But when he sat down and took the first bite, something deep inside him cracked open.
It tasted almost like his mother’s.

On a rain-drenched afternoon, when the sky was heavy and Riki’s chest felt heavier, Jake appeared beside him with a grin and a box of Pocky.
"I don’t speak Japanese well," Jake admitted sheepishly. "But maybe you can teach me?"
Riki looked at him cautiously.
"You can say anything. I don’t care if I mess up. It’s fun."
So slowly, haltingly, Riki started speaking. Simple words, half-sentences. Jake listened — with his whole heart. He didn’t correct, didn’t laugh unless Riki laughed first.
By the end of the afternoon, Riki’s shoulders had dropped an inch, and he found himself smiling despite himself. Jake’s warmth was effortless — like sunlight peeking through storm clouds.

On their debut stage day, Riki’s heart pounded so loud he thought it might break him open. His fingers trembled around his outfit’s sleeve, the staff’s sharp Korean instructions slicing too fast, too sharp.
Before he could panic, Sunghoon appeared beside him, cool and steady. Their shoulders touched, barely, but it anchored him.
When Riki stumbled, Sunghoon answered for him — quick, smooth, confident. He didn’t look irritated or exasperated; he handled it like second nature. And when the staff left, Sunghoon turned, voice quiet but unwavering.
"Don’t worry. I’ve got you. Always."
Riki exhaled shakily. The knot in his chest loosened.

Sunoo’s way of caring was different. He wrapped Riki in warmth like a blanket on cold nights when the ache for home clawed sharpest at his chest.
"Come here," Sunoo chirped, tugging him into his room with gentle hands. He tossed a soft blanket over Riki’s shoulders and pressed a face mask into his palms.
"We’re doing self-care night. No sad thoughts."
His chatter filled the room, soft and bright, like wind chimes. Even when Riki couldn’t catch every word, the sound of Sunoo’s voice soothed him. His laugh crinkled his eyes, and it was contagious.
By the end of the night, Riki’s cheeks ached — not from holding back tears, but from smiling too much.

Time passed. Slowly, steadily, like thawing ice.
One night, Riki stood in the doorway of their dorm’s living room, watching his hyungs. Jay was teasing Heeseung over something trivial, Jungwon and Sunoo sat tangled on the floor laughing over a video, Jake and Sunghoon were bickering fondly over snacks.
Something bloomed warm in Riki’s chest. For so long, he’d felt like he had to clutch everything tight — his fears, his memories, his heart.
But they had reached for him. Patiently. Without demanding. Without asking him to be anything other than himself.
Little by little, he had learned how to reach back.

He crossed the room and sat down among them, tucking himself between Jake and Heeseung.
No one made a big deal of it. But Jungwon’s smile lingered a second longer. Sunoo shifted over and laid his head on Riki’s shoulder with a soft sigh. Jay slid over and dropped a candy into Riki’s hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Riki’s throat tightened again, but this time it wasn’t from fear or sadness. It was something gentler. Something quieter.

Maybe, he thought as laughter bubbled around him —
Maybe this was what home felt like after all.

But they were still some struggle he had to face The ache came back quietly that night.
It always did, when he least expected it. One moment, he was fine — caught up in laughter, in music, in the steady rhythm of training and schedules. And then, all of a sudden, the walls seemed too tall again. The unfamiliar syllables too tangled. The distance from home stretched farther than the ocean itself.

He sat curled up on his bed, blanket wrapped tight around his frame, but the cold settled deeper than fabric could reach. His phone screen glowed dimly in his palm — a photo from months ago. His family. His parents’ smiles blurred behind the sheen of his tears. He blinked fast and wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.
He hated crying. Especially alone.

The quiet shuffle of footsteps outside made him freeze. For a second, he considered pretending to be asleep. But his breath caught in his throat, a soft broken sound that gave him away.

The door cracked open.
"Riki-ah?" Jungwon’s voice, soft, careful. His silhouette was framed by the dim hallway light. He didn’t ask what was wrong. Didn’t ask if he wanted company.
He simply stepped into the room and sat beside Riki on the bed, shoulders brushing. Not too close, not too far.

Riki swallowed hard, his chest tight and painful.
"I… I miss home," he whispered, voice rough and uneven in Korean. It tumbled out clumsy but honest, and something in him crumpled at saying it out loud.

Jungwon’s hand squeezed his knee gently, grounding. "It’s okay to miss home. I miss it too sometimes."

The mattress dipped again. Heeseung slipped into the room next, silent and familiar, pulling the blanket higher around Riki’s shoulders like a quiet shield. His touch was soft, no words needed.
Then Jake’s face appeared in the doorway, eyebrows knit with concern. When Riki met his gaze, something must have shown on his face because Jake’s expression melted instantly.
Without a word, Jake crossed the room and sat on the floor in front of him, head resting on Riki’s knee — close enough to feel steady, close enough to remind him I’m here.

The tears slipped free before Riki could stop them. His lips wobbled, shoulders trembling as he hunched forward, trying to hide his face. It was too much — the memories, the exhaustion, the heavy fear that maybe he still didn’t belong fully. That maybe he wasn’t enough here either.

But then soft hands, warm and gentle, touched his shoulders. Jay knelt beside him, quiet but present, rubbing slow circles into his back. Sunghoon perched on the edge of the bed, his palm resting lightly between Riki’s shoulder blades, steady like a lighthouse in a storm.
Sunoo was the last to come in, sleep still dusting his eyes. He took one look at Riki and immediately crawled into the bed without hesitation, wrapping his arms carefully but securely around Riki’s frame from behind. His chin rested on Riki’s shoulder, and his breath was soft against Riki’s neck.
"You’re not alone," Sunoo whispered, voice sure and warm and soft. "You’re never alone here, okay?"

The sob broke free then, full and raw, and Riki pressed his face into his hands, tears spilling over fast and hot. But no one moved away. No one flinched. They all stayed — close and solid and safe. Jungwon’s hand never left his knee. Jay’s rubs never faltered. Sunoo held him tighter.

He let himself fall into it. Let himself be small between them. Let the grief rise and fall out of him while the weight of their touch kept him tethered to now, to here, to them.
The more he cried, the less sharp the ache became. His tears slowed, breath evening out in soft hiccups.

"I was scared," Riki whispered hoarsely after a long time. "That… maybe I didn’t belong. That maybe I’ll mess it all up and get sent away again." His voice broke at the end. His insecurities bared, trembling and real.

Jungwon’s thumb rubbed a soothing line along the side of his hand. "You’re one of us. Nothing’s going to change that."
Jake lifted his head and smiled, eyes warm and sure. "Family doesn’t leave, Riki."
Heeseung leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes, voice calm like a quiet lullaby. "You don’t have to hold it all alone anymore. We’re here, okay? All of us."

Sunghoon gave a small nod, gaze steady. "You’re enough. Just like this. Just Riki."
Jay’s lips quirked up slightly. "Even if you mess up sometimes, so do we. We figure it out together."
Sunoo squeezed him tighter, cheek pressed to his back. "I’m glad you’re with us."

The words wrapped around him like a blanket warmer than any fabric could offer. Slowly, cautiously, Riki uncurled himself from the knot of his arms. His eyes were red and puffy, nose slightly stuffy, but his chest felt lighter. His heart didn’t feel like it was splintering anymore.

He blinked at them — at his hyungs — all gathered so quietly, so patiently around him. They didn’t look bothered or burdened. They didn’t look tired of him.

Tentatively, he shifted forward and laid his head against Jungwon’s shoulder. Jungwon didn’t even pause — just adjusted, letting Riki tuck close.
Jake grinned and rested his hand on Riki’s knee again. Jay’s hand moved to smooth down his hair gently. Heeseung draped his arm along the back of the bed near him. Sunghoon’s hand slid to Riki’s wrist, thumb tracing calm strokes. Sunoo hummed softly behind him, breath warm and even.

For the first time since he had left home, Riki let himself lean fully into the weight of their presence. Let his guard down completely, not out of exhaustion but trust. They wouldn’t let him fall.
He let out a long, shaky exhale — and it didn’t feel like breaking anymore.
It felt like resting. It felt like safety.

His voice was soft and raw, but when he spoke again, it carried something steadier underneath.
"Thank you. For not giving up on me."

Jungwon’s smile was small but bright. "We never will."

And as the quiet warmth wrapped around him, Riki realized —
Even when he missed home… maybe, just maybe, he had already built another one here too.

It had been years now.
Riki had grown tall, elegant in the way only time and hard-earned confidence could shape a person. On stage, he was commanding, sharp, magnetic. Offstage, he was calm and grounded — his words more deliberate these days, his smiles small but sure.
He no longer needed to chase approval; he simply was, and that was more than enough.

And yet — somehow — without even realizing it, Riki had become even cuter.
Not in the loud, maknae way people expected. No. It was something softer, rarer — the kind of quiet sweetness that crept up on you and lingered long after.

Backstage after their anniversary concert, the members noticed it in full force.

Riki stood quietly near the middle of the dressing room, hoodie zipped to his chin, hair damp and curling slightly from sweat.
His expression was neutral — not brooding, not playful — just thoughtful. His gaze moved slowly over his hyungs, watching as they bustled and laughed, the faintest upward tilt at the corner of his lips betraying a quiet contentment.

He probably didn’t even realize it — the way his brows knit just slightly in focus, how his bottom lip poked out naturally when he was deep in thought, or how his fingers fidgeted absently with the edge of his sleeve.
Soft. Absentminded. Completely unintentional.

The hyungs noticed though.
Oh, they noticed.

Sunoo, in the middle of wiping his face, peeked over and nearly let out an audible squeal. His hand froze mid-air, eyes round with adoration.
Jake, mid-laugh, followed Sunoo’s gaze and promptly bit his lower lip hard, shoulders trembling from holding back an audible “awwwww.”
Jay blinked slowly, then exhaled through his nose, a small shake of his head and an endeared smile tugging at his lips like he couldn't believe how naturally adorable their maknae still was.

Without saying a word, Riki moved.
He padded over to Jungwon first, tugged lightly on his sleeve and, without hesitation, wrapped one arm around his waist. His chin tucked on Jungwon’s shoulder for a quiet beat — calm, casual, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

But to Jungwon? His knees nearly gave out.
His breath caught, a soft, helpless smile stretching across his face as he wrapped his arm back around Riki’s shoulders instinctively.

Then Riki slipped away just as easily, moving to each hyung in turn.
To Sunghoon — a brief, wordless lean against his arm. To Sunoo — a quiet, warm squeeze of his hand. To Jay — a small bump of shoulders.
Jake nearly combusted when Riki's fingers brushed over his wrist, thumb pressing gently once before pulling back.
And Heeseung froze, eyes softening dramatically, when Riki rested his forehead against his shoulder with a deep, quiet exhale — his long eyelashes resting on flushed cheeks, completely unaware of how heartbreakingly precious he looked.

It was killing them.
Absolutely killing them.

Heeseung swallowed hard and cupped the back of Riki’s head lightly, glancing at the others with a helpless smile that screamed: Do you see this? Do you see our baby?
Sunghoon ducked his head with a grin, one hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking quietly.
Jake turned away dramatically, face scrunched like he’d just been punched in the heart.
Sunoo pressed both fists to his chest, lips quivering with the effort to stay calm.
Jungwon blinked rapidly, biting down on a gummy smile, and Jay just pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling hard as if he couldn’t take how soft the scene was.

And the best part?
Riki didn’t notice a thing.
Not the stolen glances between the hyungs, not the smitten looks they exchanged as he drifted from one to the next with calm, casual affection. He simply gave them each a rare touch, then stepped back with a faint, gentle smile.

When he finally spoke — quiet, sure, every word careful — it only amplified their suffering.

"Thank you for giving me all of this… and for letting me become who I am today."

Simple. Straightforward. His gaze steady, voice low and smooth.

But the slightly pink flush on his ears, the soft curve of his lips, the way his lashes lowered just so when he bowed his head slightly —
The hyungs were done for.

Jake was the first to crack.

As soon as Riki turned away — oblivious, calm, hoodie sleeves half-swallowed in his hands — Jake let out a soft, strangled laugh and shook his head, grinning ear to ear.

“Oh, you’re too much, Ni-ki-yah,” he called out, voice teasing but laced with unmistakable fondness. He crossed his arms loosely, leaning his shoulder against the wall with an exaggerated sigh.
“You go around quietly melting all our hearts and then just walk away? Not even looking back? That’s dangerous, you know.”

Riki blinked, pausing in the middle of zipping up his bag. His brows lifted a fraction, confused.
“What?” he asked flatly — that deadpan tone he got when he was genuinely clueless.

Sunoo clapped his hands once, bouncing slightly on his feet. His dimples carved deep as he sang, "Aigoo, our Ni-ki is still so cool and serious but acts cuter than all of us combined! Look at you, pretending you didn’t just make us soft."

“I wasn’t pretending anything,” Riki muttered under his breath, glancing away — the tips of his ears betraying him as they turned faintly pink.

Jay chuckled low, slipping his hands into his pockets as he strolled closer. His smirk was soft but teasing, voice dropping into that calm, knowing tone only Jay had mastered.
“Don’t play innocent. You knew exactly what you were doing. Pulling that silent hug routine… You think we don’t notice how smooth you’ve gotten?” He gave a light nudge to Riki’s shoulder, grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Maknae’s getting bold.”

Sunghoon, usually the quietest in teasing, couldn’t hold back either. From where he sat, he let out a soft hum, chin propped on his hand. His eyes crinkled as he said with mock thoughtfulness,
“I don’t know. I think he really doesn’t realize how cute he is. Which somehow makes it even worse for us.”

Jungwon, recovering from his earlier heart attack, finally piped in with a fond grin.
“Exactly. It’s not fair. You just… do all that and act like it’s normal. Hyung’s hearts aren’t that strong, Riki.”

Heeseung, last but never least, strolled over with a lazy, warm smile, ruffling Riki’s hair gently.
“Yaah, what are we gonna do with you? Our cool maknae is secretly the softest. You’re lucky we’re already head over heels for you.”

Riki scowled — or tried to. His brows furrowed slightly, but it only made the pink in his cheeks deepen, and his lips pressed into a thin line as he ducked his head, quietly flustered.

Jake gasped, dramatically clutching his chest.
“He’s blushing. He’s blushing!”

Sunoo squealed under his breath. “Someone take a picture, quick—”

“Hyung!” Riki finally grumbled, voice low and exasperated but his ears burning brighter now. His hand swatted lazily at Jake’s arm, but there was no real heat behind it.
His lips twitched at the corners, unwilling and shy — a small, rare smile trying to break through.

The teasing didn’t stop — but it softened even more, turning into easy laughs and shoulder bumps, their voices warm and thick with love.

Because no matter how much Riki pretended to be unbothered, his hyungs could see through him.
And they loved nothing more than teasing their cool, serious maknae when he unknowingly showed just how soft and sweet he really was.

Chapter Text

The water had been perfect when he stepped in. Sunlight warm on his back, waves lapping at his thighs, salt sharp and clean on the breeze. Ni-ki had always been drawn to the ocean. Something about the endless horizon, the power of it — it reminded him of dance. Grace and chaos perfectly folded together.

He’d gone further out, farther than the rest of the boys, chasing the pull of adrenaline. His feet lost the sand underfoot a few times but it didn’t scare him. Not yet.

But he hadn’t seen it.
A deep-set rip, narrow and fast, hidden under glittering surface. And a wave behind it — taller, heavier than the others — rolling with cruel timing.

By the time Ni-ki turned to paddle back, it was too late.

The wave rose like a dark wall, blotting out the sun.

He had only a split second —
“Sh—” His breath caught. His arms sliced forward desperately.
No, no, no.

The water smashed into him with brute force, flipping him backward. The current clawed at his legs and yanked him deeper.

His mouth tore open on instinct — wrong.
Saltwater flooded in, burning hot and bitter down his throat. He coughed, choked, panicked thrashing in the green murk. His chest heaved and convulsed, but no air came.

Up— where’s up?
His arms flailed. His eyes burned. The sunlight shimmered somewhere above like a thin sheet of silver glass — too far, too high. His limbs were heavy, sluggish. His chest screamed.

A single, desperate thought sliced through him:
I don’t want to die.

But the ocean didn’t care. The rip dragged him deeper, sand scraping his knees as he tumbled headfirst into a hollow pocket under the wave. His lungs locked, fire curling under his ribs. Stars burst behind his eyelids.

In the quietest corner of his mind, a voice whispered —
They won’t even notice I’m gone.

A strong grip latched onto his arm — sharp, urgent. Ni-ki barely registered the black wetsuit sleeve, the whistle, the fins kicking hard. He was yanked upward violently. The surface broke like shattered glass and air slammed into his burning throat.

He gasped — hacking, coughing violently. His head lolled back, water streaming down his face as the lifeguard dragged him swiftly toward shore.

“Mate, stay with me — open your eyes — keep breathing, yeah?” a voice commanded, firm but steady.

Ni-ki sucked in ragged breaths, chest spasming painfully. His body shuddered in the surf, weak as a ragdoll as they hauled him onto wet sand. Another lifeguard knelt beside him, pressing an oxygen mask to his face.

His ears rang. His vision blurred.
Above, a faint circle of familiar figures approached hurriedly.

Jungwon’s brows were furrowed. “He looks bad… but they got him out fast, right?”
Heeseung stood further back, chewing his lip anxiously but not stepping closer.
Jay’s eyes flicked between Ni-ki and the board rental shop they’d just been walking toward.
Sunoo’s voice, quiet: “Poor Riki…”

Ni-ki’s lips parted weakly under the oxygen mask. His voice scratched out.
“Hyung… you’re here…” His eyes found Jungwon first, but the leader’s worried gaze darted away quickly — distracted by the lifeguard explaining to the manager.

The moment blurred again.
The manager crouched by him, hand on Ni-ki’s shoulder. “We’ll get you checked out. I’m going with you.”

Ni-ki blinked hard, heart pounding slower now but unsteady.
He croaked, voice fragile, pleading almost without realizing it:
“You guys… you don’t have to… leave yet…?”

Jungwon smiled faintly. “We’ll see you after, Ni-ki. You’ll be okay. We’ll wait at the hotel maybe?”
Jake offered a thumbs up. “Yeah, man. Don’t worry, you’ll be back soon. Just a quick check-up, right?”
Sunghoon hesitated but nodded. “Yeah… Get some rest, maknae.”
Jay had already started walking back to grab their bags.
Sunoo’s soft smile faltered but he simply murmured, “See you later, Riki.”

Ni-ki’s throat cinched tight. His hand twitched under the blanket — halfway to reaching out, but falling limp instead. His chest twisted hard.
They turned back too fast. The sound of waves and beach chatter swallowed their retreating figures.

“...Okay,” he breathed, almost inaudible. His head dropped back onto the stretcher as the lifeguards loaded him into the ambulance. His voice cracked in his throat, hoarse and raw from more than just seawater:
“Yeah… go have fun…”

The manager settled beside him, gaze flickering with quiet worry.

A silence stretched long and thin between them. Ni-ki finally rasped, choking on the words:
“They… didn’t even ask if I was scared.”
His brows pulled together sharply, another tear breaking loose before he could stop it.
“They didn’t even… stay. Not even one of them… Hyung, I thought we were closer than that…”

His shoulders shook faintly, breath hitching.
“I was so scared, hyung… I couldn’t breathe… I thought I was gonna die out there and they’re just… they just left—” His voice crumbled.

The manager reached out, hand warm against Ni-ki’s damp hair, smoothing it back gently. His jaw clenched. “You’re not alone. You’re here. I’m here, okay?”

Ni-ki didn’t answer. His fingers curled tightly into fists. He turned his face to the ambulance wall, silent tears slipping onto the hard metal. His ribs ached deep and sharp with every shallow inhale.

And somewhere inside, like a cracked mirror — a thin line split across the trust he’d held so close.

---

The afternoon sun had begun its slow descent, bathing Bondi Beach in honey-gold light. The air still buzzed with laughter, tourists dotting the shorelines, music thumping faintly from nearby cafes. ENHYPEN sat gathered on a set of towels near the rocks, towels slung over shoulders, sunglasses perched, snacks half-eaten between them. But the mood had dulled — not light and carefree anymore, but slightly hollow.

Jungwon tapped his phone screen nervously, glancing toward the road where the ambulance had disappeared almost an hour ago. Jake sat beside him, twisting a bottle cap back and forth mindlessly. Jay scrolled absently through photos but hadn’t smiled in a while. Heeseung was unusually quiet, gaze fixed on the rolling tide. Sunoo bit the corner of his lip, glancing up every few seconds.

Their manager’s figure finally approached along the boardwalk, shoes crunching on the sand. His expression was tight, jaw set, phone in hand.

“Hyung?” Sunghoon rose quickly. “How is he? Is Ni-ki okay?”

The manager halted in front of them, shoulders tense. His voice came low and even, but sharp at the edges — like he was working hard to keep it steady.
“They admitted him straight away. He’s stable, but…” His lips pressed into a thin line before he forced himself to continue. “His lungs took in a lot of seawater. He had what's called secondary drowning — even after he was pulled out, water still lingered in his airways. It’s dangerous. They’re monitoring him closely.”

Silence dropped heavy over the group.

“Wait—” Sunghoon sat upright quickly. “Secondary drowning? That’s serious? Like… how serious?”

The manager’s eyes hardened, voice clipping tight. “If it hadn’t been caught fast, his lungs could’ve shut down. He could’ve slipped unconscious again. He could have died in his sleep tonight.”

Jay’s phone slipped from his hand and landed on the towel with a dull thud.

Sunoo’s breath hitched audibly, his lips parting in shock. “He—what?” His words were nearly a whisper.

The manager’s shoulders sagged slightly. His tone softened but cut deeper.
“And beyond that — he’s shaken. Bad. He told me himself. The ocean dragged him under for long enough that he thought he wasn’t going to make it back up.” His gaze swept over each of them, eyes sharpening.
“He was terrified. And he asked me why none of you stayed. Why no one seemed to care enough to come with him. He cried in the ambulance.”

Jungwon’s face drained of color, lips falling open wordlessly. His hands trembled slightly at his sides.
“I— I didn’t think… I thought he was okay… I thought he’d be fine…” His voice cracked, eyes glossy. “I thought if the manager hyung was going, he’d be alright—”

Jake stood abruptly, pacing in a tight circle, running both hands through his damp hair. His brows were knitted tight in frustration — with himself more than anything.
“God… We didn’t… We didn’t realize. I didn’t see it. I saw him coughing, yeah, but he smiled at us and told us to go have fun. He told us to—” Jake’s voice broke mid-sentence. His jaw clenched hard, teeth grinding audibly as his fists balled at his sides.
“I just left.” His voice dropped ragged and low. “I left him.”

Sunghoon didn’t move. His eyes stared blankly ahead, lips parted slightly as the color drained from his face in slow motion. His chest rose and fell faster, the edges of his controlled expression starting to fracture.
“He almost died, and we just… walked away,” Jay whispered, voice hollow. His throat bobbed visibly as he swallowed hard. “I didn’t even ask if he was scared.”

Heeseung’s hands pressed to his temples, elbows digging into his knees as he hunched forward. His breath came out sharp through his nose, head shaking slowly.
“I should’ve known. I should’ve known,” he muttered over and over, voice shaking. “I’ve seen rips like that before… God, I saw how bad the waves were—” His voice hitched sharply. “I didn’t even check on him properly…”

Sunoo let out a small, strangled sound — almost like a gasp or a suppressed sob. His eyes were wide, shimmering. His lips quivered before he pressed both palms hard over his mouth. His shoulders trembled faintly.
“I smiled at him…” His voice was muffled behind his hands, thin and cracked. “I smiled at him and walked away and he… he thought he was dying and I smiled and left him alone—” His breath broke unevenly, tears spilling freely now.

The manager’s jaw twitched. His gaze softened a fraction as he looked at the shattered group before him.
“He didn’t say it directly… but I could tell. He felt like none of you cared. Like he was just… an inconvenience.” His voice dropped to a whisper, bitter and pained.
“He thinks if something happened to him, you’d just… move on.”

That sentence hit harder than any of them were ready for.

Jungwon let out a ragged breath, stumbling back a step. His hands shot up into his hair, gripping tight at the roots, eyes blinking rapidly like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“No… no, no… he doesn’t— I have to see him. Hyung, can we go to the hospital? Please. Please, I have to see him—” His voice cracked violently, almost breaking into a sob.

Jake exhaled sharply, pacing faster, swiping angrily at his damp eyes. “We screwed up. We screwed up so bad.” His voice trembled raw. “He thinks we don’t love him—? He thinks we wouldn’t care if he died?” Jake’s jaw clenched tight enough that his teeth audibly ground again. “I’m not— I’m not waiting here. I don’t care what the schedule says. I’m going.”

Heeseung’s chest convulsed once before he buried his face in his hands, shoulders hunched and shaking silently. Jay stood rigid, breathing sharp and shallow like glass splinters in his chest. Sunoo wiped at his cheeks harshly, sniffling hard as he scrambled to gather his things.

The manager sighed softly through his nose, stepping forward. His voice lowered, gentler this time.
“I’ll take you to him. But I need you to understand — you can’t just show up all smiles now. You hurt him. Badly.” He held their gazes firmly, tone unflinching. “If you’re going, you’re going to apologize. Properly. You’re going to tell him how much he means to you. Don’t make him wonder anymore.”

They all nodded wordlessly — expressions carved deep with guilt, regret, and something close to desperation.

As they packed their bags hurriedly and followed the manager off the sand, none of them smiled. Not once.

The hospital room was too white. Too bright.
The thin cotton blanket sat neat over Ni-ki’s lap, his back propped upright against stiff pillows. His arms lay limply by his sides, IV taped into the back of his hand, oxygen line still looped softly under his nose. His lips were dry. His skin pale.

His eyes — dark, empty, and far too calm for someone who had almost drowned hours ago — stared vacantly at the TV on the wall, though it wasn’t even on.

When the door creaked open softly, he blinked once. Slowly. His gaze didn’t lift immediately. His fingers twitched slightly against the blanket.

He’d heard the steps before they even knocked. He already knew who it was.

Jungwon entered first, shoulders hunched small under the too-bright hospital lights. His eyes were swollen red, lips chapped from biting at them too long.
Jake followed, fists stuffed deep in his hoodie pockets, jaw clenched sharp and unrelenting. Jay walked in silently behind him, movements stiff and controlled like a man bracing for impact. Heeseung shuffled in last, knuckles pale where he gripped the strap of his bag too tight. Sunoo stood by the door, eyes glassy, breathing shallow and uneven.

They stopped in a crooked line by the foot of the bed.
No one spoke at first.
The monitor beeped soft and steady, oxygen hissing faintly in the tubing.

Ni-ki finally turned his head toward them. Slowly. Smoothly.
His face was unreadable. Completely blank — not cold, not angry, not sad. Just empty.
The maknae tilted his head slightly and spoke in a soft, distant voice.
“Oh. You came.”

JSunghoon’s lips parted, something like a small strangled breath slipping out. His hands trembled faintly.
“Riki…” His voice broke. “We— we should’ve come sooner—”

Ni-ki blinked. Slowly. His mouth curved into something that could have passed as a smile, but it didn’t touch his eyes at all.
“No. It’s fine. You don’t have to explain.” His voice was flat. Smooth as glass.
“You’re busy. It’s okay.”

Jake flinched. Actually flinched like he’d been slapped.
“We’re not— We weren’t busy—” His voice cracked sharply, thick with regret. “We were stupid. We didn’t see you, Ni-ki. We didn’t think—” He cut himself off with a ragged breath, swiping his sleeve across his eyes hard.

Ni-ki’s gaze drifted to him with eerie calmness. His lips parted slightly in a breath that wasn’t quite a sigh.
“It’s fine. Really.” His shoulders lifted faintly, indifferent. “I’m okay now. Manager-hyung was here anyway. You didn’t have to come.”

Jay’s jaw clenched sharp and hard, tendons straining visibly. He stepped closer, voice rough and low.
“Ni-ki. Stop. Please don’t say it like that…” His voice cracked and fractured deep. “Don’t talk like we don’t care—”

Ni-ki’s eyes cut to him sharply — not angry. Just flat.
“I’m not saying that.”
His lips pressed thinly before curling into that same hollow, too-polite smile again.
“I just understand now. That’s all.” His fingers flexed weakly on the blanket once before going still again. His voice dropped to something eerily soft and distant.
“Don’t worry about it anymore. I won’t cause trouble again.”

Sunoo let out a soft gasp behind his hand, eyes going wide and shimmering wildly.

Jungwon’s knees buckled a little as he dropped onto the edge of the bed, his hands shaking violently now as they curled over the thin mattress. His voice broke into a ragged sob.
“Riki, stop… please stop talking like that… please—” His shoulders crumpled forward as tears spilled down freely, no longer controlled.
“We didn’t think you’d get hurt that bad… We didn’t think you’d be that scared— We thought you’d bounce back like always and you’d smile and tell us it’s nothing and we—we—” His words collapsed into incomprehensible, tear-choked gasps.

Ni-ki’s face didn’t change. Not once.
He just blinked slowly again and let his gaze slide away toward the blank TV.

Jay stepped closer, his throat working hard before he finally forced the words out.
“We failed you.” His voice was like broken glass. “We let you down in the worst possible way.”
He swallowed harshly, and for the first time since entering the room, his mask shattered. His face crumpled. His eyes squeezed shut as his breath caught hard.
“We left you. You almost died, and we left you, Ni-ki. I’m sorry— I’m so sorry—” His voice broke audibly into something ragged and raw. He sucked in a sharp breath that almost wheezed.
“I don’t deserve for you to forgive me. I know that. But please don’t— don’t think we don’t love you. Don’t think we don’t care. You’re our brother— you’re my little brother, and we didn’t show you that when it mattered most, and I’ll never forgive myself—”

Heeseung moved closer then — wordlessly — and knelt by the side of the bed, resting his forehead heavily against Ni-ki’s hand even though the younger didn’t move to respond. Silent tears leaked out from Heeseung’s tightly shut eyes, streaking down his cheeks as his shoulders trembled quietly.

Jake stood frozen like stone, but his chest heaved wildly, and after a long, strangled breath — his face crumpled too. His fist slammed down hard onto the end of the bedframe with a dull thunk, a harsh sob ripping from his throat uncontrollably.

Sunoo sniffled hard, tears running freely as he pressed both fists over his mouth to muffle the small, broken cries.

Ni-ki sat motionless through all of it. His face smooth and still. His eyes glazed and tired.
Eventually, in a voice too small and too calm, he murmured,
“I just don’t want to expect too much anymore. It hurts less that way.”

The weight of that sentence crashed over them heavier than any wave.

---

Two months.
It had been two long, unspoken months since the ocean had dragged Ni-ki into its depths — lungs raw, water surging sharp up his throat, chest burned and bruised with invisible wounds.
He had almost died that day.
He had almost drowned.
And it haunt him in his sleep every night.
The seawater taste that burns his lungs.
The underwater current that pull him in.
And no one — no one had panicked like he had hoped. No one had screamed loud enough.
No one had grabbed him fast enough.

He had smiled. Polite. Unbothered.
He had buried it so deep no one could see the way his heart clawed at his ribs every time water touched his ankles since.

—

The Han River sparkled deceptively soft.
Clear, shallow, smooth over moss-darkened rocks and sun-warmed pebbles. The countryside stretched quiet beyond the banks, cicadas buzzing faint in distant reeds.
The PD team bustled, laughter echoing under blue skies. Canoes bobbed lazily. GoPros blinked red beneath clear water.

"Alright, Ni-ki, you ready? Just cross that shallow part for the drone shot, yeah? Won’t go above the waist—"

Ni-ki dipped his chin, lips pressed thin.
“Yes. Okay.”
His voice was too smooth. Too light. Too practiced.

Sunghoon stood ten feet away, arms crossed, brows pinched hard.
"You good? You don't have to , we can take it slow maybe I can go first—"

“I’m fine.”
Too fast.
Too flat.
He stepped forward.

—

The water wrapped around his calves.
Then knees.
Then hips.
His breath shortened without him noticing. His ribs stretched tight, lungs pulling fast and shallow.

His foot slipped.
Current snapped around his thigh.

Before he could gasp—
His leg folded under. His body pitched forward. His ribs slammed against a slick boulder.
And suddenly—
It wasn’t river water anymore.
It was the ocean.
Waves roaring. Salt searing. Darkness twisting.

His chest convulsed. His throat locked.
A scream strangled sharp in his lungs as his arms jerked wide.
His body twisted under. Water crushed fast over his back, pulling, dragging—

He kicked wildly—
Mouth snapped open.
Water poured in.
Cold. Sharp. Searing.

Above surface —
Jake’s entire soul dropped.
“RIKI!”
He sprinted, sandals flung off as his feet pounded rocks and water. His voice shattered raw.
“HE’S UNDER! GET HIM OUT! NOW!”

Jungwon whipped his head fast.
“Riki— NO—”
He bolted hard behind Jake, breath ragged.

The entire crew froze.

Then full chaos detonated.

"CALL 119!"
“EMERGENCY! GET THE KIT!”
“GET HIM! GET HIM! MOVE!”
"SHUT DOWN CAMERAS—GET HELP!"

Staff scrambled violently. Shoes flew. Phones dropped into grass. One PD tripped hard over a light rig as three stylists shrieked in panic.
A boom mic crashed sideways into a chair.
The AD sprinted with a bright orange float bag, hands shaking violently.
The manager sprinted back up the hill, screaming for the van driver.

Jake dove into the deeper pocket where Ni-ki’s body flailed underwater.
His hand slammed onto Ni-ki’s wrist, fingers locking tight.
Ni-ki’s body jerked violently — chest convulsing as bubbles poured from his nose and lips. His eyes were blown wide, bloodshot, glassy and gone. His jaw trembled. His chest shuddered, pulling jagged, broken gasps filled with water.

“Riki, it’s hyung— look at me— HOLD ON—” Jake’s voice cracked under water, bubbles spiraling as he yanked Ni-ki’s limp form toward his chest.

Heeseung , as the oldest slammed in beside him, shoulder colliding with Jake’s back.
“Got him— MOVE! MOVE!”
His arms wrapped tight around Ni-ki’s shoulders. His face was ashen, lips trembling hard.

They ripped him from the river’s grasp.
Ni-ki coughed—
Water splattered violently from his lips as his entire body convulsed hard. His arms flailed weakly. His chest wheezed sharp, choking fast and thin.

They crashed onto the bank.
Jake dropped fast to his knees, flipping Ni-ki sideways as Sunoo shoved towels forward with shaking hands.
Ni-ki’s entire body jerked in ragged spasms.
His lips were blue-tinged. His breath came in tiny, jagged, wet wheezes.
His throat clenched and unclenched as thin sobs choked out against his will.

And then—
he broke.

A wretched, sharp sob tore loose from Ni-ki’s chest — raw, high-pitched, terrified.
His hands clawed blindly at Jake’s sleeves, fingers digging hard into fabric. His body shook uncontrollably — deep, violent tremors rolling from shoulders to knees.

“D-Don’t… please don’t— don’t let— don’t let me drown—”
His voice cracked, thin and shattered. His breath hitched violently between each word. His jaw shook hard, teeth chattering as full-body panic overtook him.
“Don’t— don’t let— not again— not again— please hyung— hyung please—”
His words crumbled into open sobs, loud and panicked, chest heaving so hard it almost threw him forward.

Jake grabbed his face gently, forehead pressed hard to Ni-ki’s.
“I’m here— I’m right here— I got you— you’re safe, Riki, you’re safe— look at me— I’m here—” His own voice splintered open, thick tears spilling unchecked down his cheeks.
“I SEE YOU. I see you, baby, I see you— I’m NOT letting go—”

Jungwon’s hand pressed firm over Ni-ki’s heart, trying desperately to ground him.
“Riki— stay here— breathe— breathe— you’re not drowning, I swear—”
His voice broke on a sharp inhale as his own tears blurred fast.

Sunoo collapsed to his knees behind them, sobbing silently into both fists. Jay stumbled forward, grabbing Ni-ki’s hand in both of his, knuckles white.
Heeseung dropped low, arms spreading around Ni-ki’s shivering shoulders as the manager skidded back with the oxygen tank.

“Mask on him— NOW!”
Staff shoved the mask over Ni-ki’s face fast, straps snapping tight. The oxygen hissed sharp.

Ni-ki’s breath wheezed through his sobs, gasps shallow and fast as his shoulders shook violently under the weight of trauma cracking open wide.
His body folded inward slightly, knees jerking up as he cried harder, raw, terrified.

The entire set had frozen in panicked silence now.
Stylists cried openly. One cameraman sat collapsed on the grass, hands tangled in his hair, lips pressed tight. The director stood pale, radio hanging limp from his hand.

And in the center of it all —
Ni-ki’s sobs echoed raw and broken, tearing sharp through the afternoon air as Jake cradled his head against his shoulder, whispering desperately:

“I’ve got you— I’ve got you— I’m never letting you go— never again— it’s over, baby, you’re safe— I SWEAR you’re safe—”

And for the first time in two long months—
They all saw it.
Really saw it.
Exactly how close they had come to losing him.
Exactly how deep the cracks had gone.

---

The ambulance screamed down the road.
Flashing red lights bled sharp against the riverbanks as sirens tore through the quiet countryside.

Inside—
Ni-ki’s frame shuddered hard on the stretcher.
His fingers twisted in tight spasms against the blanket as oxygen hissed sharp under the mask strapped to his face. His eyes were blown wide, lashes wet and stuck to his cheeks. His jaw clenched thin and tight— shoulders jerking every few seconds as choked sobs shuddered through his chest.

Jay sat crumpled on the seat beside him, knuckles bone-white as he gripped Ni-ki’s wrist like a lifeline.
Sunghoon muttered prayers under his breath, nonstop. His own eyes were bloodshot and raw, chest stuttering with half-swallowed sobs.
Jungwon sat on Ni-ki’s other side, one hand flat over Riki’s sternum — firm, grounding, steady — his head bowed low, silent tears slipping fast down his nose.

Sunoo perched on the jumpseat opposite, both fists trembling hard against his thighs, lower lip bitten raw as his breath broke sharp.
Jay sat beside him, one hand locked on Sunoo’s knee, the other trembling hard as it covered his mouth. His face was ashen, throat visibly bobbing hard as he swallowed panic again and again.

Heeseung sat closest to the ambulance door, hunched deep with his elbows on his knees, face crumpled in silent devastation, breath sharp and unsteady.

The EMT flipped switches fast above Ni-ki’s head.
“BP dropping— tachycardia—”
His voice cut fast.
“Possible aspiration pneumonitis — we need respiratory in ER—”

Jake’s hand tightened hard on Ni-ki’s wrist.
“Riki, stay with me— don’t you dare close your eyes, you hear me?”
His voice cracked so sharp it tore his throat raw.
“You stay awake— you stay right here— you’re safe— I’m NOT letting go of you again—”
Tears spilled heavy down his chin.
“I’m not letting go… I’m not letting go…”

Ni-ki’s lips quivered. His breath wheezed wet and shallow against the mask. His eyes fluttered weakly, brows pinching tight—
Then his chest jerked again as a broken sob ripped free from deep inside.
His fingers twisted violently into Jake’s sleeve, clinging as tears pooled thick under his lashes.
“Hyung… hyung…”
His voice cracked — hoarse, high, trembling.
“Don’t leave me…”
He hiccupped hard, chest spasming.
“Please… don’t leave me…”

Sunghoon lost it.
He dropped his head to Ni-ki’s hand, shoulders convulsing in deep, wrecked sobs.
“Never… never, baby— I swear— I swear I’m here— I’m not leaving, Riki— I swear on my life I’m here—” His voice splintered open.
“I was so stupid— we were so stupid— I’m so sorry— I’m so sorry—”
He shook hard as tears poured fast into Ni-ki’s blanket.
“I should’ve seen it— I should’ve known— I should’ve been there—”

Ni-ki gasped again, lips trembling violently.
“Thought you didn’t care…”
His voice cracked thin and fragile like glass.
“Thought… you didn’t want me… didn’t want to bother you…”
A sob tore sharp from his chest, raw and high.
Jake’s face crumpled deep as he squeezed Ni-ki’s hand tighter.
“NO— NO— Riki, God, NO—”
His voice fractured.
“We care— we care so damn much— we were just blind— stupid— too stupid to see how much you were hurting—”

Jay's hand shook violently on Riki’s chest as his own tears dropped fast.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Riki— we didn’t mean to— I swear we didn’t—”
His jaw locked tight as he sobbed silently through his teeth.

Sunoo’s breath hitched sharp. He lunged forward, both hands grabbing Ni-ki’s knee as hot tears spilled unchecked from his eyes.
“I LOVE YOU— Ni-ki, I LOVE YOU— I’m so sorry— I’m so sorry we weren’t there—”
His voice shattered open as his shoulders shook hard.
“I’m not losing you— I WON’T— I swear, Riki, never again—”

Ni-ki’s sobs turned open and raw, chest convulsing in sharp hiccupping gasps as all of them crashed in tight around him, hands gripping any part of him they could reach— sleeves, wrists, knees, shoulders, fingers—

And for the first time in months—
He let his head fall back.
He let the sobs pour out, loud and panicked and free, in the safety of arms that wouldn’t let him slip away again.

—

The ER doors burst wide open.
Bright white lights seared across Ni-ki’s drenched face as nurses swarmed, monitors beeped high and sharp.
“Saltwater infiltration— possible lung trauma— oxygen saturation low—”
A respiratory tech clamped an Ambu-bag mask fast over Ni-ki’s nose as his body trembled weakly, sobs still twitching through his chest.
IV lines threaded into his arms. A nurse wiped tears gently from his cheeks even as his jaw clenched and eyes fluttered faint.

The boys stood clustered just outside the trauma bay curtains, hands locked tight together.
Jay’s knuckles blanched white over Sunghoon and Sunoo’s shaking fingers.
Heeseung gripped Jungwon’s hoodie sleeve in a death hold.
Jake’s shoulders quivered violently as he stood rooted, eyes never once leaving the edge of Ni-ki’s bed.

Minutes dragged long and thin.
Every second burned sharp and unrelenting.

And then finally—
A doctor stepped out, mask tugged low.
He looked serious but calm.
“His lungs are inflamed. He inhaled both river water and residual saltwater damaged tissue from before— aggravated by the panic attack and water exposure. We’ve stabilized his breathing. No permanent scarring, but his chest is going to hurt badly for weeks. He needs bed rest. And trauma counseling—"
The doctor’s eyes softened gently.
“Badly.”

Jake crumpled forward, both hands dragging hard down his face as sobs rattled out of him.
Jungwon collapsed into Heeseung’s chest, both of them shaking silently.
Sunoo broke into fresh tears, both fists over his mouth.
Jay dropped hard onto the waiting bench, shoulders convulsing in exhausted relief. Sunghoon still in shock and deep remorse hadn't blink his eyes.

They had him.
He was safe.

—

Two days later.
Ni-ki sat propped against crisp white pillows, IV still taped to his wrist, but color slowly seeping back into his cheeks.
Heeseung sat cross-legged on the bed beside him, one hand gripping his ankle.
Jake perched on the other side, both hands wrapped gentle around Riki’s fingers. Sunghoon offering comfort by trailing kisses on Riki's temple.
Jungwon, Sunoo, Jay sat crowded at the foot of the bed, eyes rimmed pink but warm.

Ni-ki’s eyes flicked up slowly.
Soft. Tired.
But open.
“…You guys don’t have to stay here all day, you know.”
His voice rasped rough, but a faint hint of dry humor pulled at the edge.

Sunghoon exhaled sharp.
“Shut up. We’re not leaving. Ever again.”
His lips twitched faint into a thin, crooked smile.
“Get used to it, kid.”

Ni-ki blinked hard.
Then—
His lips trembled thin.
Eyes glazed fast.
And his breath broke sharp as Jake’s arms wrapped full and tight around him, crushing him gently into his chest.
Jungwon piled in next.
Sunoo and Sunghoon curled around his back.
Heeseung slid an arm over his knees.
Jay tugged him down soft by the nape.

And in the warm crush of heartbeats and quiet breath—
Riki felt it.
He was safe.
He was home.
And they were never going to let him drown again.

----

The days after Ni-ki’s rescue were an uneasy blur of quiet conversations, soft touches, and quiet reassurances. The boy who had once been full of mischief, teasing smiles, and bright-eyed excitement was now distant, his usual liveliness dampened under the weight of everything he’d been through.

But despite the silence that hung heavy in the air, the members were always there, standing beside him, offering comfort, space, and love without saying a word. They understood that healing wasn’t a fast process; it was slow, delicate, and it needed to be handled with the utmost care.

Ni-ki didn’t speak much in the first few days. He’d sit with them in the dorm, but often with his eyes turned away, lost in his thoughts. His shoulders were always slumped, his usual energy absent.

Yet, in the silence, the members never stopped trying.

Jake was the first to step up. His natural protective instinct made him the one who stayed closest to Riki. He could see the way Riki flinched at loud noises, how his eyes would dart away whenever someone raised their voice in excitement, how the flashes of the drowning incident were still fresh in his mind.

Jake would sit beside him on the couch, his fingers brushing lightly against Riki’s arm when the silence stretched on too long. “You don’t have to say anything, Riki. But I’m right here, okay? Whenever you need me. I’m here.”

Riki would nod, but his gaze never lifted.

Jungwon, as always, tried to offer his support in a quieter, more composed way. He would cook for him, making meals that felt like home. “You need to eat, Riki. We’re all here, and we want to help you get back to yourself. Little by little. No rush.”

The soft presence of his leader was a balm to Riki’s fragile state. There was no pressure, just the consistent warmth of someone who understood without needing words.

Then there was Sunoo. His empathy was unyielding, his heart wide open. He would always try to catch Riki’s gaze, just to let him know that no matter how far away he felt, he was seen. Sunoo was there to listen, or sometimes, just to sit in silence with him. His hand would hover near Riki’s shoulder, never forcing, just gently offering the connection Riki so desperately needed but didn’t know how to ask for.

“I’m sorry, Riki,” Sunoo would whisper sometimes, his voice heavy with unspoken guilt. “I never should’ve let you feel alone. I’m here now, okay? I’ll always be here.”

Riki’s lips would tremble at those words, but he would never say anything in return. The hurt was still too raw, the walls too high.

But slowly, as the days wore on, the atmosphere in the dorm began to change. It wasn’t so much that Riki’s silence lifted overnight; it was the consistent, gentle push of his members’ care that began to reach him. They gave him space but also continued to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

One evening, as they all gathered in the living room to watch a movie, Riki stayed tucked in his hoodie, curled into the corner of the couch. He wasn’t really watching the screen, his eyes vacant, but he wasn’t entirely closed off either. His fingers were lightly curled into the blanket, the soft, familiar rhythm of his members around him a small comfort.

Sunghoon noticed and tell Jay .
They sat next to him, this time not saying a word, just sitting quietly. The others were talking—laughing—around them, but Riki stayed still, his eyes dark.
Then, softly, without any pretense, Jake reached out. He slid his hand slowly into Riki’s, threading their fingers together.
“I’m here, Riki. Whenever you’re ready to talk… just know you can. No pressure. Just... whenever you want.”

Riki didn’t pull away.
Instead, he let his fingers tighten slowly against Jay 's hand, just enough to acknowledge he was still there. Still connected. His lips trembled again, but this time, he didn’t fight the tears that welled in his eyes.

“Don’t leave me, hyung,” Riki whispered, barely audible. “Please don’t leave me.”

Jay's heart cracked. He shifted closer, wrapping his arm around Riki’s shoulders, pulling him into the warmth of his embrace. “I won’t, Riki. I won’t. You’re never alone. I swear to you, I’m never leaving.”

It was the first time in days that Riki let himself lean into someone. He didn’t pull away, didn’t try to protect himself from the hurt. His breathing hitched as he buried his face against Jake’s chest, the weight of everything flooding him all at once.

Riki broke down, then.
He cried freely, his body wracked with sobs, shaking so violently that Jay's and now Sunghoon's arms tightened around him instinctively. It felt like the release had been building for so long, and it spilled out in torrents.

The others sat back, watching quietly, giving them the space they needed. But there wasn’t an ounce of judgment in their eyes—only care, only patience. They knew that this moment had been coming for a long time, and they weren’t going to let him face it alone.

Sunoo was the next to move in, kneeling in front of Riki and gently wiping his tears away. His touch was light, soothing, like he was trying to heal not just Riki’s body but his soul.
“Let it out, Riki. We’ve got you. You don’t have to hide anymore. We’re all here.”

Heeseung, Jay, and Jungwon joined, each of them offering words of support, or just holding him silently, their presence a steady, reassuring weight.
“We’re all in this together, Riki. You’re not a burden to us. Ever.”

Riki pulled away slightly, his eyes swollen, but his breath evened out just a little. His hand still held Jake’s, though, and it was the lifeline he was clinging to.
“I… I just don’t want to be a burden,” he confessed, his voice thick. “I didn’t want to show how scared I was. I didn’t want to make you all worried.”

Sunghoon shook his head, his hand gently cradling Riki’s face.
“You’re not a burden. You are the reason we keep going, Riki. The reason we push ourselves to be better. You’re everything to us.” His voice cracked, too, but it wasn’t out of sadness—it was a promise. A promise that no matter how broken Riki felt, they would always be the ones to fix him.

In the quiet that followed, Riki closed his eyes for the first time in days and felt the warmth of his members’ love around him. The pain was still there, yes, but it didn’t feel as heavy. It wasn’t as suffocating as before. They had finally broken down the walls he had put up around himself.
And in the process, they had rebuilt something much stronger.

Chapter Text

----------

The thunder cracked like the sky was being torn in half.

Riki winced, pulling his knees up to his chest on the couch.The others probably still in the shower after s long practice .He don't want to call out. The lights in the dorm flickered once, then settled back into a dim glow. The storm outside raged on—rain drumming against the windows, wind howling through the city, and lightning tearing jagged lines across the sky.

He wasn’t usually afraid of much.

But thunder?

Thunder felt like the world was breaking. It was loud, unpredictable, and impossible to run from.

Another boom echoed through the room, and Riki instinctively covered his ears with his sleeves. His hoodie swallowed his frame as he curled up tighter, hoping the sound would pass. His heart thudded anxiously in his chest.

That’s when he heard the softest footsteps.

“Riki?”

Jungwon’s voice. Gentle. Familiar.

Riki didn’t answer—just blinked up at the boy standing at the entrance of the living room. The leader’s brows furrowed in quiet concern as he walked over, kneeling in front of him.

“Oh, Riki…”

Without another word, Jungwon climbed onto the couch and pulled him into a hug, strong arms wrapping around the trembling boy like a blanket.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into Riki’s hair. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Riki didn’t speak. He just clung to him like a lifeline, letting his leader’s warmth ground him.

A moment later, Sunoo appeared from the hallway, still wrapped in his fluffy robe, his hair wet from shower.

“Is Riki scared again?” he asked softly, eyes already shimmering with worry.

Jungwon nodded. Sunoo didn’t hesitate—he joined them on the couch, slipping into the other side of Riki and gently taking one of his cold hands.

“Wait here,” Sunoo whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of Riki’s hand. “I’ll make his tea.”

He was gone for only a minute before returning with a mug of chamomile tea, steam curling gently in the air, and a plate of honey biscuits. He set them on the coffee table and tucked himself beside Riki again, brushing a hand through his bangs.

The lights flickered again. The thunder cracked louder.

This time, Riki didn’t flinch as hard. Jungwon’s hand was steady on his back, and Sunoo had started humming softly under his breath.

Then came Jake.

He peeked in with a pillow tucked under his arm and a warm smile on his face.

“I brought extra blankets,” he announced, walking over. “I figured we’d all camp here tonight.”

He placed the fluffy pillows around them and draped two warm blankets over the group, before settling next to the couch and passing Riki a small, stuffed duck. “Thought this guy might help.”

Riki gave a soft laugh—barely there, but real.

The front door creaked open, and Jay walked in with a grocery bag clutched in one hand.

“The power flickered so I went downstairs,” he said, shaking off his umbrella. “I got snacks. The good kind. The ones Riki hoards in the corner of the cabinet.”

“You braved the storm?” Jungwon blinked.

Jay shrugged, but his gaze fell on Riki—small and curled between his hyungs—and his eyes softened immediately.

“Of course I did,” he said quietly. “He doesn’t like thunder.”

He unpacked chocolate-covered marshmallows, chips, and Riki’s favorite banana milk, placing them neatly on the table like offerings to a king.

Riki looked at him, teary-eyed.

“Thank you, hyung,” he whispered.

Jay just smiled, ruffling his hair. “You don’t have to thank us.”

A minute later, Sunghoon emerged from his room carrying Riki’s favourite plushie (another favourite) , Baekgu —a slightly worn polar bear that Ni-ki had drawn thick eyebrows impersonate Sunghoon's.

“You forgot this in the van,” Sunghoon said, placing Baekgu beside him.

Then, he sat on the floor and leaned against the couch, offering his quiet presence like an anchor. He didn’t say much—but his shoulder touched Riki’s leg, and when the thunder cracked again, he gently squeezed Riki’s ankle.

“Not letting the storm win tonight,” he muttered, eyes closed.

Last to arrive was Heeseung.

He walked in with his guitar slung over his shoulder, wearing his baggy hoodie and softest pajama pants. He paused at the doorway, taking in the pile of blankets, the cups of tea, the glow of fairy lights that Sunoo had switched on, and the way Riki was surrounded on every side.

“Looks like the storm had gathered everyone,” Heeseung said with a smile, before walking over and settling into the free spot by Riki’s feet.

“Wanna hear something?” he asked.

Riki nodded, just a small motion.

And so Heeseung started to strum, the soft hum of a lullaby filling the space like gentle rain.

No one said anything else. They didn’t need to.

Jake started braiding a tiny section of Riki’s hair. Sunoo kept passing him warm sips of tea. Jay handed him a snack every time his hand twitched. Sunghoon leaned back a little more to keep their closeness. Jungwon didn’t stop holding him. Heeseung’s voice was quiet and comforting.

The thunder still roared outside.

But inside the dorm, Riki was cocooned in warmth, safety, and love.

For the first time that night, he smiled.

A real one.

And when his eyes finally fluttered shut, heart still thudding but softer now, he felt someone gently tuck the penguin under his chin, and another hand fixing his blanket.

“We’ll always be here,” someone whispered.

“Even if the sky falls down,” another added with a quiet laugh.

And Riki drifted into sleep, the sound of thunder replaced by the steady rhythm of heartbeats around him.

His family.

His safe place.

He sleep surrounded by love and warmth.

The next morning, sunlight peeked gently through the curtains, golden and warm, birds chirping , the sun ray crisps , chasing away the memory of last night’s thunder.

The dorm living room was unusually quiet for morning.

Blankets were tangled across the floor. Empty tea mugs sat abandoned on the coffee table. The air smelled faintly of honey and sleep.

And right in the center of it all—like the eye of a storm—was Riki.

The usually cool, composed, sharp-tongued maknae… currently buried like a sleepy riceball in the middle of six very sleepy boys.

Jungwon was on his back, one arm flopped over Riki’s shoulders. Sunoo had his face half-buried in Riki’s hoodie, his arm slung across his waist like a seatbelt. Jake was snoring softly, legs tangled with Riki’s at the end of the couch.

Jay had ended up on the floor somehow, with Riki’s arm draped over his chest like he was a teddy bear. Sunghoon’s hand rested gently on Riki’s hair, and Heeseung—still half-holding his guitar—had Riki’s other hand in his own like it had never let go.

And Riki?

He was snuggled into all of them. Face peaceful, lips slightly parted, cheeks smushed against Jungwon’s arm. One foot stuck out from under the blankets, resting lazily on Sunghoon’s thigh. He looked like a small prince nestled among his knights.

Sunoo stirred first, blinking at the warmth around him.

“…Is that Riki’s leg on my stomach?”

Jungwon mumbled, voice raspy with sleep. “He climbed into my hoodie at some point.”

Jay blinked up from the floor. “He’s hugging me like I’m a body pillow.”

Jake cracked an eye open, smiled sleepily. “Well… he did go through a thunderstorm. I say we give him this one.”

Heeseung chuckled quietly, brushing a bit of hair out of Riki’s face.

“You’d never guess this is the same Riki who threatened to delete our playlists last week,” he whispered.

Sunghoon smirked. “Our cool, edgy maknae. Looks like a baby koala right now.”

As if sensing the laughter, Riki let out a soft whine in his sleep and buried his face deeper into Jungwon’s side, mumbling something incomprehensible. His hold on Jay tightened like a vise.

No one moved.

No one dared disturb him.

Because the storm was gone now. And after everything, Riki had finally let himself rest. Walls down. Guard lowered. Wrapped in the warmth of six hearts who loved him.

They stayed like that for a while—drowsy, tangled, full of soft smiles.

And maybe later, when Riki woke up and realized he’d practically glued himself to everyone, he’d turn beet red and try to act like it didn’t happen.

But for now?

They were just seven boys, tucked under the quiet hush of morning, with their maknae clinging to them like his life depended on it.

And they wouldn't have it any other way.

---

That night , after another tiring practice night , Riki was back to being the effortlessly cool maknae when he was just a clingy baby in the earlier morning.He woke up and said thank you and dashed to his room , embarrassed and shy.Now , dressed in black sweats, chrome heart around his neck, and arms crossed as he leaned on the kitchen counter like he hadn’t spent all night and morning clinging to every member like a baby duck.

“I don’t know what you’re all talking about,” he said with a blank face. “I wasn’t scared. I was just… cold.”

Jungwon snorted into his drink. “Right. Cold. That’s why you had your arm around my neck like a koala.”

“I was keeping you warm,” Riki replied smoothly, eyes sharp and smug. “You looked cold.”

“Of course,” Jay said, raising a brow. “You just happened to end up spooning all of us for our comfort.”

Sunoo giggled as he stirred honey into his tea. “I think you were using my stomach as a pillow, Riki.”

“That’s called efficient use of space,” Riki deadpanned.

Jake leaned on the counter beside him. “So... the part where you said ‘don’t leave me’ while asleep was also strategy?”

Riki's ears turned pink. “Mistranslated. I said ‘don’t leave the tea.’”

Heeseung nearly choked on his toast. “Oh wow, fluent in dream-Korean now?”

They were all laughing, light and teasing, but fond. They loved when Riki let his walls down, even if he tried to build them right back up in the daylight.

Sunghoon walked in last, freshly showered and drying his hair with a towel. “What’s going on?”

“We’re just admiring how cool and totally fearless our maknae is,” Jake said.

“Oh?” Sunghoon smirked as he sat down next to Riki. “Did our brave maknae tell you about how he used my arm as a security blanket?”

“I didn’t!” Riki insisted, puffing his cheeks a little. “You just have long arms. I was helping you stretch.”

Before anyone could respond, a sudden flash lit up the windows.

The crack of thunder followed immediately after.

BOOM!

And just like that—cool maknae Riki vanished.

Without a second of hesitation, he jumped—yes, jumped—into Sunghoon’s lap, arms flung tightly around his neck, burying his face in his chest.

The room fell silent.

Then—

“AWWWWWW!”

Six voices erupted in laughter at once.

“Wow, that was Olympic speed,” Heeseung wheezed.

“Lightning-speed reflexes,” Jay added, wiping a tear from his eye.

“You okay, buddy?” Sunghoon chuckled, wrapping his arms around the clinging boy. “That hug almost knocked the wind out of me.”

“Don’t laugh,” Riki mumbled into his hoodie, face completely hidden.

“Too late,” Sunoo giggled. “Our baby duck is back.”

“I thought you said you weren’t scared?” Jungwon teased, grinning ear to ear.

“I’m not,” Riki grumbled. “I just… needed to make sure you weren’t scared.”

“Mhm,” Jake said with a wink. “Very heroic of you.”

Even as they teased him, no one tried to move him. Sunghoon adjusted the towel so it draped over Riki’s back like a little cape, and the others returned to chatting and eating—letting him stay nestled where he was.

Because honestly?

No one really minded when Riki turned back into their clingy, storm-hating baby duck.

He was still their coolest maknae.

Just… the kind of cool that came with cuddles, warm tea, and a death grip on Sunghoon’s hoodie every time the sky rumbled.

He will always be their youngest , the one who will seek comfort when the thunders woke him in the dead of night.The one who wants head pats and 'good job' from his hyungs.

Chapter Text

It was cold that day. The sky was gray, the air sharp. They were at a frozen lake for a photoshoot—icy and elegant, like the concept said. The lake stretched wide, white and still. Everything looked peaceful.

Sunghoon laced his skates during their break. He was good at it—skating. It felt natural to him. As he slid across the smooth surface, he noticed Riki watching from the side, curious, eyes following every movement.

Sunghoon slowed down, smiling a little. “Do you want to try?” he asked, his breath forming clouds. Riki didn’t speak but stepped onto the ice, carefully. His eyes sparkled, and Sunghoon nodded, skating ahead, trusting him to follow.

But no one noticed that part of the lake hadn’t frozen deep enough.

The ice beneath Riki cracked. It was too sudden—there was no warning, no sound until the sharp break came. And then, with a splash that shattered the silence, he was gone.

Sunghoon turned around, confused at first. Then he saw the hole in the ice.

“Riki?” he called, skating back fast. “Riki!”

There was no answer.

Panic came like a wave.

Heeseung, Jungwon, Jay, Sunoo, and Jake all came running from the side. Staff members followed, some slipping on the snow as they ran. Everyone was yelling, some crying already. Cameras dropped. Coats were flung off.

Sunghoon dropped to his knees by the hole, staring into the black water. “Riki!” he screamed.

No one could see him.

He was just… gone. Lost under the ice.

Sunghoon didn’t think. He dropped to the ice, fists slamming against it where Riki had disappeared.

“RIKI!!”

Heeseung was next to him in seconds, both of them punching the frozen surface over and over. The ice was thick—too thick. It wouldn’t break.

Their fists hit again.

And again.

And again.

The skin tore first. Then the blood came. It smeared over the ice, over their hands, over the hole where Riki had fallen. But they didn’t stop.

Heeseung’s voice broke. “Get him out—please, get him out—!”

Jungwon and Jake tried to pull them back, but they shoved them off, still striking the ice. Jay was yelling at the staff to do something. Sunoo had fallen to his knees in the snow, sobbing with his face in his hands.

“Sunghoon, stop!” a staff cried. “You’re hurting yourself!”

But Sunghoon couldn’t hear them. He only saw Riki’s face. He only heard the sound of ice cracking. He only felt the terror—what if they were too late?

The stylists were crying. Managers called for help, voices shaking. Some fell to their knees, praying in broken whispers.

“God, please—please—”

The lake was still.

But the blood on the ice kept spreading.

The sirens echoed in the distance, then closer. Tires crunched over ice and snow. The paramedics and fire fighters ran onto the frozen lake with their gear, voices sharp and fast, calling out instructions. The staff cleared the area, still crying, some refusing to move far, eyes locked on the hole.

Sunghoon and Heeseung were dragged back, hands bloodied and raw, their bodies shaking from cold and shock. They didn’t fight anymore. They just watched.

It had been twenty minutes.

The divers went in.

The rest of the world waited.

And then—
A body was lifted out of the water.

Riki.

Pale. Still. Eyes closed. Limbs unmoving.

The air dropped even colder as the paramedics laid him flat on the ice. They cut away his soaked clothes, pressed defibrillator pads to his chest, checked for breath, for heartbeat.

One of them shouted, voice hard and sharp.

"No pulse! Severely hypothermic!"

A scream broke in someone’s throat.
Sunghoon stumbled back like he’d been shot.
Heeseung dropped to his knees, mouth open but silent.

Jungwon stood frozen. Jay took a step back, shaking his head over and over. Sunoo cried out loudly, falling forward in the snow, and Jake turned away, his face crumpling as a sob escaped.

The staff behind them began to cry harder. Some covered their faces. Others whispered prayers.

And Riki lay there, unmoving.

Cold.

Gone.

The lake was no longer silent.

It was screaming.

Cries tore through the frozen air—raw, loud, and broken. Staff members sobbed uncontrollably, hands reaching out helplessly. A manager dropped to their knees, clutching the ground, whispering Riki’s name again and again like a lifeline. Stylists cried into each other’s shoulders, shaking.

“Please, Riki, please—come back—”
“Not like this, please, not like this—”

The members were falling apart.

Sunghoon was curled over himself, rocking back and forth, blood drying on his hands. “It’s my fault—it’s my fault—” he kept whispering, even as Jungwon tried to hold him. Jungwon’s own eyes were wide and wild, tears sliding down his cheeks.

Heeseung had gone still, staring at Riki’s body as if he could will it to rise again. His lips were parted, but no words came.

Jay stepped closer, tears in his eyes, his hands clenching and unclenching. Sunoo was sobbing so hard he could barely breathe, and Jake looked broken, murmuring prayers under his breath.

The paramedics didn’t stop.
A firefighter dropped beside them. “C’mon, kid. Hang on. Don’t you go yet.”
They started compressions—fast, firm, and brutal.

One paramedic breathed for him—mouth-to-mouth—while another counted with shaking hands.
“Come on. You’re young. You can fight this.”
“Don’t give up now. Stay with us.”

“Stay with us, Riki!” someone screamed.

And still—no pulse.

The wind howled over the lake, but no one moved. No one looked away. They were all stuck in that moment, waiting, begging, crying—for just one more breath.

The world shattered in a single sentence.

“No pulse. No reflex. Time of death—”
The paramedic's voice cracked slightly. “—2:14 PM.”

Everything stopped.

For one breathless, cruel moment… the world stood still.

And then came the screaming.

Sunghoon let out a sound so painful it didn’t sound human. He fell forward, fists pounding the ice, over and over, his voice hoarse with sobs. Heeseung grabbed his own head and screamed, loud and broken, falling to his knees.

Jay collapsed beside Jungwon, both of them shaking, not even speaking, just gasping for air between sobs. Sunoo was pulled back by staff, screaming Riki’s name until his voice broke. Jake stumbled backward, hand over his mouth, tears pouring down his face.

People were collapsing into each other—crying, wailing, begging. Some staff ran off to throw up behind the trees. Others could only stand frozen, their mouths open, whispering “no” like it would change anything.

But then-

“W-Wait—” Jake’s voice cracked. He blinked, then dropped to his knees, crawling forward.
“I saw— I saw his fingers. He moved—he moved!”

The paramedics didn’t hesitate. “GET BACK IN!”
“RESUME CPR!”
“CLEAR HIS AIRWAY—!”

Everything lit up again. Compressions resumed—harder, faster. The firefighter cursed under his breath, “C’mon, kid, not like this. You were just here. Don’t let go now—!”

More compressions. More breaths forced into his lungs.

“Stay with us, Riki! Come on, fight it!”
Another medic shouted, “Check pulse—nothing yet. Keep going!”

Ten minutes. Ten long minutes.

Then—

A gasp.

A jerky, shallow breath tore from Riki’s lips. His chest rose, and the machine lit up.

“WE HAVE A PULSE!” someone screamed.

Cheers and cries exploded. One firefighter nearly collapsed backward in relief. Another medic laughed through tears. “That’s it, kid—that’s it!”

“Good job, baby,” one whispered, hands trembling over Riki’s chest. “You’re not done yet.”

The members cried harder, but this time it was different—this time, it was relief. Heeseung grabbed Jay and Sunghoon, pulling them into a shaky hug. Jungwon and Sunoo collapsed into each other’s arms. Jake covered his face, sobbing into his hands.

“Thank you—thank you—” Sunghoon whispered to everyone, voice cracking. “Thank you…”

Riki lay still, breathing, but pale—still critical, still hypothermic. Paramedics wrapped him in thermal blankets, oxygen mask secured, body trembling faintly.

“He’s not out of the woods,” one said, “but he’s a fighter.”

And for the first time in what felt like hours, there was hope.

Gratitude poured from everyone as Riki was carefully lifted into the ambulance, still wrapped in blankets, his body fragile but breathing.

“Thank you… thank you so much...” Sunghoon whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his hands trembling as he clung to the edge of the stretcher. “You saved him...”

Heeseung squeezed Sunghoon’s shoulder, his eyes still red but filled with relief. “We couldn’t have done this without you,” he said, his voice rough, barely more than a whisper. He kept glancing at Riki, making sure he was still breathing, still alive.

Jay reached out, shaking one of the paramedics' hands, his own face pale but his eyes steady. “Thank you for not giving up on him,” he said, voice breaking. “Thank you for fighting for him.”

The firefighter who had been closest to Riki clapped him on the back, a proud grin forming despite the tension in his face. “Kid’s got fight in him,” he said, his voice rough from the cold. “Glad to see that fire in him. You all did everything you could. No one would have given up on him after that.”

Sunoo fell beside the ambulance, wiping his tears away as he murmured over and over, “Thank you... thank you...” His voice was barely audible, his emotions too overwhelming. He reached out to touch Riki’s hand one last time before he was closed into the ambulance.

Jungwon was the last to speak, his voice quiet but filled with sincerity. “We don’t know what we would have done without all of you. You saved him. You really saved him.”

Riki’s chest rose and fell with every breath as he was carefully strapped into the back of the ambulance, the paramedics working efficiently to stabilize him. The door slammed shut, and the ambulance lights flashed on, breaking through the gray sky, signaling the beginning of his fight to recover.

As it pulled away, the members stood together, their eyes following it, silent. Grateful. Thankful.

But it wasn’t over. Not yet.

They all knew the road ahead would be long, but they would be there. Together. Through everything.

The hospital was a blur of white lights and sterile, quiet hallways. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic, the soft beeping of machines filling the space. Riki lay unconscious in the ICU, surrounded by beeping monitors and the gentle hum of hospital machinery. His skin was still pale, lips a faint blue, but the color had returned to his cheeks, and his breathing was steady, if not yet strong.

The members waited outside his room, pacing, sitting, their eyes never leaving the door. They hadn’t left his side since he was brought in. The tension in the air was palpable, a mix of fear, exhaustion, and hope.

“Is he going to be okay?” Sunghoon asked, his voice trembling despite his attempt to sound strong. He paced back and forth, his eyes flicking between the door and the nurses' station. “He’s alive, right?”

Heeseung was quiet, his eyes fixed on the floor. “They said he’s stable. But we don’t know how bad the hypothermia was… or how much it affected him.”

Jay, leaning against the wall, ran a hand through his hair. “We should’ve been there sooner… we should’ve done more.”

Sunoo shook his head, reaching over to grip Jay’s arm. “We did everything we could. The doctors—thank God for them—they’re the reason he’s still here. They’ve got him now. All we can do is wait.”

Minutes stretched into hours, but the weight of waiting didn’t get any easier. Sunghoon stared at the door, lost in his own thoughts. He wanted to go in, to see Riki, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. It felt like if he stepped in, he might disturb the fragile balance, as if Riki might slip away again.

Jungwon sat with his back to the wall, his hands clasped together tightly. He hadn’t said much since they arrived, too focused on keeping himself composed. He just kept looking at the floor, his fingers tapping nervously. “He’s strong,” Jungwon said softly, more to himself than anyone else. “He’ll come through this.”

And then, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor finally came out.

“We’ve stabilized him,” the doctor said, her voice calm but with a note of seriousness. “His temperature is rising, and he’s responding well to the treatment. It’s a slow process, but we’re optimistic. We just need to monitor him closely.”

The members exhaled collectively. Their shoulders relaxed for the first time since they’d arrived.

Sunghoon was the first to speak, his voice cracking. “Can we see him? Is he—”

“He’s still unconscious, but you can visit him for a few minutes. Just be gentle with him. He’s weak.”

The door opened, and they filed in one by one, quiet footsteps, a sense of reverence in the air. Riki lay in the hospital bed, looking smaller than they remembered, his body wrapped in blankets, IV lines running into his arms. His face was calm, the tension from earlier gone, but his skin still looked too pale, too fragile.

Sunghoon was the first to step forward, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch Riki’s. “Riki…” he whispered, voice breaking. “You’re going to be okay. We’re here. We’re all here…”

Heeseung stood by the side of the bed, his eyes soft, his heart aching with relief and guilt. “You scared us,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “You really scared us…”

Jay stood behind them, unable to keep his emotions in check. “We’re all here for you, Riki. You’re not alone.”

Sunoo, his voice thick with emotion, stepped forward. “Thank you. Thank you for coming back to us.” His eyes were brimming with tears, but he fought to hold them back.

Jake stood quietly at the foot of the bed, just staring at Riki. His voice was barely a whisper. “Please don’t leave us again…”

Jungwon, holding back tears, nodded. “We’ll stay with you. Every step of the way.”

The room was filled with their presence, their voices mingling with the steady beep of the heart monitor. The tension had eased, but they knew the road to recovery would be long. For now, they could only stay, watch, and wait. But they knew one thing for sure—Riki would come back to them.

And they’d be there, no matter what.

Riki slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurry at first, the room spinning gently. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of where he was. The sterile smell of the hospital hit him first, then the soft beeping of machines beside him. The cold sensation of the blankets wrapped around him made him shiver slightly, but the warmth of familiar voices calmed him.

“Riki…” Sunghoon’s voice was the first thing he heard, soft and trembling. “Riki, you’re awake…”

He turned his head to the side, his eyes still adjusting, and saw them. His hyungs. They were sitting close, too close, their eyes wide and red. Sunghoon’s face was streaked with tears, Heeseung was wiping his eyes, and the rest of the members looked just as exhausted, their eyes puffy, filled with a mixture of relief and worry.

Riki’s heart skipped a beat as panic shot through him. He shot up in bed, his body trembling, his breath coming in short gasps. "W-What happened?!" he stammered, looking around, his hands instinctively reaching for the edge of the bed, his mind struggling to understand. “I… I can’t… I—”

“You fell through the ice…” Heeseung’s voice was low, almost soothing, but Riki could hear the brokenness in it. “You… You almost didn’t make it, Riki…”

“No! No, please, don’t say that!” Riki’s chest tightened. His breathing quickened, his vision narrowing with fear. His hands trembled, clutching at his blanket as if it would anchor him back to some kind of safety. “I… I don’t remember… what happened? I don’t remember…” His voice cracked.

Sunghoon leaned forward, his eyes filled with concern, yet there was a tenderness in them. "You… you were unconscious for a long time, Riki. You were… you were gone for a while. You almost—" He stopped himself, his voice choking. "But you came back. You’re here."

Riki’s eyes filled with terror. He could still feel it, that cold, suffocating feeling. The icy water, the pressure, the darkness. His breath became shallow, his chest tightening as the memories of being trapped under the ice came crashing back. "It was so cold…" he whispered, eyes wide, the panic rising again. “I thought I was going to die. I couldn’t… I couldn’t move. I felt like I was drowning… I—”

His voice faltered as the memories twisted into something worse.

“I… I couldn’t breathe. It felt like the water was taking everything from me. I kept… sinking. I couldn’t… I couldn’t get out.” Riki’s voice cracked, and a sob escaped his throat, the weight of the terror he felt coming back all at once. His heart raced, and he gasped for air as though the memories had trapped him again. “It was so dark. I kept telling myself… I kept begging to get out but nothing happened. And I thought I was gonna—”

His words dissolved into sobs, and he crumbled, hiding his face in his hands. The terror that had gripped him was still alive inside him. The fear. The helplessness. It was so real.

“I’m so sorry…” he sobbed, his body shaking. “I’m so sorry… I never meant to… I didn’t mean to scare you all. I didn’t mean to make you all cry—please, forgive me.”

Sunghoon immediately leaned in, wrapping his arms around Riki’s trembling form, pulling him close, his voice soft but firm. “Riki, no. Stop. It’s not your fault.” His hands gently ran through Riki’s hair, trying to calm him. “We’re here for you, okay? You don’t have to apologize. You came back to us. That’s all that matters.”

Heeseung placed a hand on Riki’s shoulder, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed the emotions he was trying to hold back. “We’re all here, Riki. You’re not alone. We’ve got you.”

Jay leaned forward, his own voice thick with emotion. “You don’t need to apologize. We’re just glad you’re alive. You scared us so much, but you’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

Jungwon, usually the calm one, wiped his own eyes and softly said, “You’re strong, Riki. You came back from that. You came back to us. We don’t blame you for anything.”

Sunoo, with his face streaked with tears, squeezed Riki’s hand gently. “Don’t be scared anymore. We won’t leave you. You’re safe now.”

Jake, who had been holding himself back from breaking down, whispered, “We’re all with you, Riki. We’re never leaving you.”

The room was filled with the warmth of their presence, their words wrapping around Riki like a blanket. Slowly, he began to calm, the tremors in his body easing as the love and support of his members filled him.

He looked up at them, his eyes still wet with tears, but now there was a faint trace of relief. He didn’t know what would come next. He didn’t know how long it would take to heal, or if the fear would ever completely go away.

But in that moment, he knew one thing: He wasn’t alone.

----------

In the days that followed, the hospital room where Riki lay became a small sanctuary of love and gratitude. The members never left his side, only resting in short bursts, constantly watching over him, offering words of encouragement, and reminding him how much they loved him.

But soon, something unexpected began to happen.

At first, it was a simple card—a handwritten note from one of the paramedics who had been first on the scene. The message read, "You’re a fighter. We were all amazed by your strength, even in the most critical moment. Stay strong, Riki. The world needs you." The note was signed with a small heart and the initials of the paramedic.

Then came the flowers. Bright, cheerful blooms, filling the small room with their sweet fragrance. Each bouquet came with a different note. One from the firefighters who had worked tirelessly to save him: "You never gave up, and neither did we. You’re a hero, Riki. Keep fighting."

The staff, too, began sending their well-wishes. Nurses and doctors alike contributed notes of gratitude and admiration, praising Riki’s strength for fighting through the worst of the storm. "We’ve never seen someone so determined to survive. It was an honor to care for you. You have our deepest respect."

As the days passed, the room filled with more flowers, more cards, and even small gifts—ranging from comforting blankets to soft, plush toys, all carrying a message of admiration for his strength. A small, hand-knitted scarf from one of the nurses, a book of positive affirmations from another. Even a box of his favorite snacks, carefully wrapped, from a member of the medical team who had been with him the most.

The messages continued to pour in, touching Riki’s heart in ways words couldn’t describe. As he read each note, sometimes with the help of his members, his heart swelled with appreciation and an overwhelming sense of gratitude. They hadn’t just saved him—they believed in him. They saw him as more than just a member of a group. They saw him as a person worth fighting for.

“Look, Riki,” Sunghoon said one afternoon, gently lifting a card that had arrived that day. “This one is from the paramedics who were there when you fell through the ice. They wrote, ‘You’re the strongest person we’ve ever seen. You kept fighting even when your body was giving up. You’re a miracle, Riki.’”

Riki swallowed hard, blinking back tears. He didn’t know how to express how much their kindness meant to him. He felt so small in comparison to the overwhelming outpouring of love and admiration.

“I don’t deserve all this…” he whispered, his voice raw from the emotions that kept bubbling up. His hand reached out, gently touching the card Sunghoon held. “I was just so scared, hyung. I didn’t think I’d make it out of there. I didn’t think I’d come back to you all…”

“You did, though,” Sunghoon said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re here. And you’re stronger than you realize, Riki.”

Jay stepped forward, his own voice shaking as he looked at the cards and gifts scattered around Riki’s bed. “They’re right, you know. You never gave up. You didn’t just fight for yourself, you fought for us too. For all of us.”

The other members nodded in agreement, their gazes fixed on Riki with nothing but pride.

“The staff, the paramedics, the firefighters… they all said they’ve never seen anything like it,” Heeseung added, his tone serious yet warm. “They were amazed by your will to live. They believed in you, Riki. We all did.”

Riki felt a tear slip down his cheek, but it was different now. It wasn’t just fear or pain—it was a deep, overwhelming sense of gratitude. His heart ached, but it was a good kind of ache, one that made him feel like he wasn’t alone in this world.

"Thank you…" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for believing in me."

And the cards kept coming, each one reinforcing the same sentiment. From the paramedics to the nurses, from the firefighters to the hospital staff—everyone who had helped him was sending their thoughts, their prayers, and their admiration. Riki was no longer just a patient; he was a symbol of strength, of the power of the will to live, of what it meant to fight even when all seemed lost.

And as Riki lay there surrounded by the love of his members and the notes and gifts of those who had saved his life, he knew that he had more to live for than ever. He wasn’t alone. He was surrounded by a team of people who believed in him, and that made all the difference.

Chapter Text

The forest was still, save for the steady crunch of leaves under Sunghoon’s boots and the occasional call of a distant bird. The deeper he ventured into the wilderness, the more the air thickened with the untouched essence of nature—untamed, wild, and raw. His inner wolf stirred beneath his skin, alert and curious. He was a lone Alpha, searching for new territory, new purpose. His former pack was far behind him now—its rules, its expectations, its chains.

He was free.

But that freedom came with instinct. Responsibility. The Alpha in him needed something—somewhere—to claim.

Sunghoon paused at the edge of a slope, letting his senses expand. His nose twitched. The usual smells of bark and soil surrounded him… until something foreign—something impossible—hit him like a wave.

Strawberries.

Sweet. Soft. Gentle. A scent so delicate it seemed to hum in the air, threading itself into his lungs and curling around his brain like a whisper.

Omega.

His muscles tensed, and his inner wolf surged forward, ears perked, tail high in alertness. A scent this potent, this soothing, should not exist in unclaimed territory. His instincts screamed to investigate, to protect, to dominate. But above all… to see.

Guided by that impossible fragrance, Sunghoon stalked through the trees until the forest thinned and opened into a hidden glade. There, bathed in sunlight, was a lake so clear it mirrored the sky—and in its center, waist-deep in the water, was him.

The Omega.

He was breathtaking.

Pale skin glistened with droplets as he moved through the water with languid grace, long limbs slicing the surface like a creature of myth. Hair, silver with hints of gold under the light, floated around him like a halo. Everything about him—his scent, his poise, his silence—was unnatural. Divine. He wasn’t just beautiful. He was designed to draw in Alphas, to disarm them with every breath, every glance.

Sunghoon’s wolf howled inside him, claws scratching beneath his skin, demanding to approach, to scent, to claim. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay rooted. His pupils dilated, dragging in the sight of the Omega’s delicate collarbone, the slight swell of his scent gland just beneath the curve of his neck.

The Omega’s head tilted slightly.

He’d noticed him.

Slowly, the stranger turned. Their eyes met—one wide and luminous, the other dark and unreadable. The Omega didn’t panic. His expression remained soft, almost curious, as if he wasn’t surprised to find an Alpha watching him.

And Sunghoon—usually calm, composed—felt something dangerous settle in his chest.

Want.

Not just desire, but need. The primal kind that made an Alpha restless. His scent thickened, turning darker, muskier, a quiet challenge and a reluctant invitation all in one.

But the Omega only blinked. His voice, when it came, was a melody carried on wind and water.

“You shouldn’t be here, Alpha.”

Sunghoon swallowed. His voice was rough when he finally spoke. “Neither should you, Omega. This forest isn’t claimed.”

The Omega gave a small smile, enigmatic and unafraid. “Maybe that’s why I’m here.”

A beat of silence passed between them—charged, tense, filled with things neither of them said.

And then the Omega turned away, slowly gliding further into the lake, like he hadn’t just set the Alpha’s instincts ablaze.

Sunghoon’s fists curled at his sides. His wolf paced, tail swaying, gaze locked on that delicate, retreating figure.

There was something about this Omega.

And the Alpha in him… wouldn’t walk away.

"My name's Sunghoon."

---

Sunghoon hadn’t meant to stay long.

"Nice to meet you , Alpha Sunghoon."The omega said — with a flirtious and mischievous grin that made Sunghoon shiver.His wolf demanding to know the omega deeper.

Yet here he was—kneeling beside the lake, eyes fixed on the Omega—he looks so beautiful under the moonlit , the face that tells fairy tales , like he's been blessed by the moon goddess herself.He's now sat on a mossy rock, hair still damp, scent still as intoxicating as before. The air between them was warm with tension. Riki, as the Omega had finally introduced himself, wasn’t afraid. In fact, he seemed… open. Gentle. But behind his softness was something unwavering, a confidence that puzzled Sunghoon’s inner wolf.

“I thought you were alone,” Sunghoon said lowly, gaze flickering toward the trees. “But that scent on you—it’s not just yours.”

Riki’s lips curved slightly. “Because I’m not alone, Alpha. My pack is nearby.”

Sunghoon stiffened, the Alpha in him ready to defend if another male appeared too close. But Riki’s voice was calm, even proud.

“Sunoo—he’s an Omega like me. We grew up together. He always makes sure I’m warm and safe, even when I insist I’m fine.”

Sunghoon’s ears twitched at the tenderness in Riki’s voice.

“Jungwon is our Beta,” Riki continued, folding his arms over his knees as he looked across the lake. “He’s quiet, but he notices everything. If I have a bad dream, he always knows. He brings me tea before I ask.”

Sunghoon said nothing, but his inner wolf paused, listening.

“Jake… he’s an Alpha. Big heart, loud bark. He spoils us without even realizing it. Jay, our leader—he’s the strongest Alpha I know. He makes sure we have everything we need. He never lets me walk behind. And Heeseung , our Alpha leader's lover— he always there for me when I need him.

Riki turned his eyes back to Sunghoon. “They take care of me. Not because I’m fragile. But because they love me.”

There was no arrogance in his tone. No fear, either. Just truth. Sunghoon's chest tightened—because deep down, a part of him, the lonely part, envied that warmth.

“And yet,” Sunghoon said slowly, “you’re out here. Alone.”

Riki gave a quiet hum, dipping his toes back into the water. “They know I come here sometimes. I need moments like this—when the world is still and I can hear myself think.”

The strawberry scent curled stronger in the air, sweet and soothing, wrapping around Sunghoon’s senses like silk. His wolf sat still inside him, ears perked, not aggressive now—but curious. Drawn.

“You’re not like other Omegas,” he murmured.

Riki looked at him then, head tilted slightly. “Maybe. But you’re not like most Alphas either, are you?”

That pulled a surprised laugh from Sunghoon’s throat—quiet, gruff.

They sat in silence for a few breaths more, the forest whispering around them. Sunghoon didn’t know what this meant yet, this strange pull between them. But he knew one thing:

He had no desire to walk away.

---

The forest remained quiet, but the shift in energy was subtle—Sunghoon noticed it first. The way birds quieted. The rustle of padded footsteps through the trees. His inner wolf stirred again, more alert this time.

“They’re close,” Riki murmured with a soft smile, rising from the rock and wringing the water from his silver-streaked hair. “They won’t attack, if that’s what you’re worried about. But they will be protective.”

Sunghoon stood, his tall frame relaxed, but his eyes sharp. “I’m not worried,” he said. “I understand what it means… to guard something precious.”

Riki blinked at that, a faint flush warming his cheeks before he looked away.

The first to appear was a gentle scent of jasmine, followed by the soft crunch of boots. Sunoo , a cute and bubbly omega stepped into view, his expression carefully composed—but his eyes instantly darted to Riki, scanning him up and down.

“You went further than usual,” he said softly, walking straight to Riki and draping a towel over his shoulders. He didn’t spare Sunghoon a second glance.

“I’m fine,” Riki chuckled, letting his friend fuss over him.

Another figure emerged—lean and composed, eyes sharp behind a fringe of black hair.

Jungwon.

His Beta scent, crisp like morning air, was steady and grounding. He nodded politely at Sunghoon, reading the atmosphere in a second.

Then came the sound of a twig snapping and a howl—and a golden fur wolf , Jake—loud and warm, burst into the glade with an exuberant voice.

He shifted back to handsome and muscular— but a little bit short figure.

“Riki! There you are—I brought those roasted roots you like—” He stopped mid-sentence, catching sight of the stranger Alpha.

Jake’s expression shifted in a heartbeat—his posture straightened, Alpha instincts flaring subtly as he moved closer to Riki’s side, placing himself just slightly in front of him. Protective. Calculated.

And last came the presence that made even Sunghoon’s inner wolf straighten.

Jay and his mate , Heeseung .

The Alpha leader and his mate's aura rolled in like thunderclouds, composed yet commanding. His wolf's form dark eyes met Sunghoon’s with a calm, evaluating gaze. No hostility. Just… judgment.

Sunghoon didn’t bare his teeth or lower his head. He simply stood still, the way a true Alpha would in front of another.The mighty alpha shift gracefully to he's human form—sharp jawline that could cut fingers , fierce eyes that resembles eagles' eyes. Followed by his lover , Heeseung—big doe eyes that reflects the moonlight. He looks so graceful.

Jay broke the silence. “You’re alone.”

“I am,” Sunghoon confirmed. “Passing through. I didn’t expect to find anyone here.”

Jay’s eyes flicked to Riki, then back. “And yet, you found our Omega.”

There was no threat in his voice. Only a clear boundary.

Riki stepped forward before things could spiral. “He didn’t hurt me. He was respectful,” he said, voice soft but certain. “We were just… talking.”

Jay studied Sunghoon for a moment longer before giving a single nod, then turned to Riki. “If you’re satisfied, then so am I.”

With that, the pack relaxed.

Jake exhaled loudly. “Whew. Thought I’d have to wrestle a rogue Alpha today.”

“You’d lose,” Jungwon muttered under his breath.Jake heard it and tackles Jungwon.Heeseung can be heard scolding them.

Sunoo simply walked to Riki’s side and took his hand.

Sunghoon watched the scene unfold—a pack built on love, loyalty, and deep trust. It wasn’t just that Riki was protected.

He was cherished.

And something in Sunghoon’s chest ached in response.

Riki looked back at him once more before they turned to leave. His gaze lingered, soft, unreadable. Something unspoken passed between them.

“Maybe we’ll meet again,” Riki whispered.

And Sunghoon, still breathless from the scent of strawberries and warmth, found himself nodding.

“I hope we do.”

---

Days passed.

Yet Riki never left Sunghoon’s thoughts.

Every time the wind changed, he half-expected that soft strawberry scent to drift back into his senses. It haunted him. Lingered on his skin like a memory. His inner wolf, restless and unsatisfied, paced constantly beneath his flesh.His dick uncontrolable twitches , begging to knot the beautiful and delicate omega.Something wasn’t right. He knew it.

He’d walked far, seeking distraction, trying to escape the pull that Omega had etched into his very instincts—but the bond of scent, of recognition, of something deeper, refused to loosen.

And then one morning, just as the mist was lifting off the trees, he heard it.

Shouts. Fast-moving footsteps. Panic.

Sunghoon stilled, his Alpha senses sharpened instantly. The wind shifted.

Strawberries.

Faint, but chaotic. Tangled with fear. The scent wasn't warm and welcoming anymore. It was distressed.

He ran.

Branches whipped against his shoulders as he sprinted through the woods, heart pounding. And then he burst into a clearing—and froze.

The pack was there.

Jake paced in circles, jaw clenched and teeth bared, his Alpha instincts barely leashed. Jungwon was trying to track something, his fingers skimming across the forest floor with trembling urgency. Sunoo’s face was pale, near tears, clutching Riki’s outer robe tightly to his chest. And Jay stood still at the center of it all, tense and silent—until his eyes met Sunghoon’s.

Sunghoon opened his mouth to ask—but Jay beat him to it.

“He’s gone.” Jay’s voice was strained, gritted between clenched teeth. “Riki haven't been seen since he's out for some flower plucking."Sunghoon stepped forward, every hair on his body standing on edge. “ Did he lost?”

“No,” Heeseung whispered, voice cracking. “He's probably in haze and confuse because today is the due day of his heat . He promised he'll be back before dark.”

Sunghoon’s wolf stilled. Something sharp and primal unfurled in his chest.

Jay’s jaw clenched. “We have to hurry,before he's claimed by rouge alpha.”

That one word ignited something inside Sunghoon.

Claimed by other alpha.Instead of him.

The Omega’s first heat outside of pack walls. Vulnerable. Alone. Frightened . Aroused —or worse, calling. Instinct clawed at Sunghoon's spine, demanding to search, to follow, to find.

Jake’s voice was heavy with dread. “If he’s out there, alone in that state—”

"Oh Luna Moon , please protect him." Sunoo prays with hopefulness and fear.

Sunghoon stepped closer. “Tell me where you last saw him.”

Jay narrowed his eyes. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because I can smell him,” Sunghoon growled, already turning his head to the breeze. “And your pack needs every set of instincts it can get right now.”

Jay hesitated for just a heartbeat before finally nodding once.

Sunghoon didn’t wait.

He bolted into the trees, the scent of heat now unmistakable—syrupy and thick, curling into his lungs like honey laced with fire. His body ached with response. His wolf was fully awake now, tracking not just scent, but need.

He didn’t know what he’d find—but he had to find Riki first.

Before someone else did.

---

The deeper into the forest Sunghoon ran, the stronger the scent became—sweet and thick,full with desire cloying with desperation. It wrapped around every branch, clung to every leaf. It filled his lungs with dizzying urgency.

Sunghoon’s inner wolf clawed at his skin, fangs bared, snarling with instinct. The scent wasn’t just heat.

It was a call.

And it was Riki’s.

He broke through the thicket into a sun-dappled hollow—and there he was.

Riki lay curled in the moss, flushed and trembling, his usually bright eyes glazed over in a haze of heat. His shirt clung to his skin with sweat, his thighs pressed together as he whimpered softly, his body aching for something it couldn’t soothe on its own.

When Sunghoon stepped into the clearing, Riki stirred—his head lifted, and his eyes locked with the Alpha’s.

“...Sunghoon?”

His voice was broken and breathless, scent flooding the space like perfume meant for one wolf only.

Sunghoon’s breath hitched. “Riki—”

“Hurts,” Riki whispered, a soft whine caught in his throat. “I can’t— I need—your knot, Alpha.”

His scent spiked violently, and Sunghoon’s knees nearly buckled. The Omega’s body was crying out for a knot. For completion. For an Alpha strong enough to tether him through the storm of instincts. And Sunghoon—Moon above, he wanted to.

His muscles tensed as he stepped closer, every instinct roaring.

But just as he was about to reach him—

A low, firm voice rang through the clearing:

“Stop.”

Jay emerged from the trees, posture regal and presence commanding. His eyes locked on Sunghoon, sharp and unreadable.

Sunghoon froze mid-step, panting through gritted teeth, struggling to restrain the wild part of him that wanted—no, needed—to claim the trembling Omega before him.

Heeseung’s gaze flicked to Riki, softening just briefly. “He’s not in his right mind. You know that.” Jay nodded and eyed Sunghoon with a fierceful gaze.

“I wasn’t going to force him,” Sunghoon growled, fists clenched. “I would never—”

“I know,” Jay said simply. “That’s why I came.”

He stepped closer, slow and calm despite the heat in the air. “You found him. You didn’t touch him. You held yourself back even when instincts begged you not to.”

Sunghoon swallowed thickly, body still trembling with restraint.

Jay looked him in the eye.

“You care for him.”

It wasn’t a question.

Sunghoon hesitated. “...Yes.”

Jay looked over at Riki, who was curled tighter now, whimpering and pawing at the moss beneath him. Then back at Sunghoon.

“Then come with us.”

Sunghoon blinked. “What?”

“Join the pack,” Jay said quietly. “I see the way you look at him. And Riki… he spoke of you, even in his haze. You followed his scent, not his body. That’s the kind of Alpha I want near my Omega.”

A pause.

“If you stay, if Riki chooses you… you can give him what he needs. Safely. With our blessing.”

Sunghoon’s breath caught.

Riki whimpered again, brokenly, and reached out—blindly—for him.

Sunghoon moved on instinct, kneeling at Riki’s side but not touching him, waiting.

Jay stepped back. “He’s yours to calm—if you truly mean it.”

And Sunghoon, heart pounding with purpose, reached forward and whispered:

“I’m here, Riki. I won’t hurt you. I’ll take care of you—if you let me.”

Riki’s hand found his, soft and trembling.

And the pack’s future shifted.

---

The moment Sunghoon’s hand touched Riki’s, the trembling Omega seemed to exhale, as if a burden he hadn’t even realized was there had lifted. His hazy eyes, though still clouded by heat, softened as his fingers gripped Sunghoon’s wrist gently.

“Sunghoon...” Riki’s voice was shaky, desperate. “I… I can’t—”

Sunghoon swallowed hard, his own instincts roaring to act. His Alpha blood burned in him, but he stayed still, kneeling beside the Omega. He couldn’t take control of this moment—not yet. Riki wasn’t ready, and this wasn’t about claiming him. This was about comfort. Protection.

And then, just as the tension in the air reached its peak, the sound of soft footsteps approached.

It was Sunoo and Heeseung , the pack's omegas —their calm presence immediately soothing the frantic energy swirling around Riki. They then knelt beside Sunghoon, leaning over the Omega with an expression of quiet understanding. Their omega scent, Heeseung with his warm vanilla and cinnamomy scent—Sunoo's fresh lilies and roses scent wrapped around the air like a soft blanket. Blending the potent , strong and intoxicating Omega 's in heat ripe strawberry scent .

“We’re here, Riki,” Sunoo whispered, brushing Riki’s damp hair from his forehead. “We’ll take care of you.”Heeseung gave his temple butterfly kisses.

Riki’s body shuddered beneath the touch, but he seemed to relax, ever so slightly. His breath was erratic, and the hazy glaze over his eyes flickered with confusion, yet he trusted them. He trusted his pack.

Jungwon appeared next, his Beta scent mingling with the air like cool wind. He took a seat at Riki’s side, placing a gentle hand on his back, offering warmth without overwhelming him.

“Breathe with me, Riki,” Jungwon coaxed, his tone even and calm. “In and out. Let the haze clear for a moment.”

The Omega’s breaths hitched, but he tried, focusing on the steady rise and fall of Jungwon’s chest. His pack was here. They would guide him through this, just like they always did.

Jake then crouched down near Riki’s feet, his strong, protective presence comforting. He didn’t speak much, but his steady gaze on Sunghoon showed that he was ready to step in if needed. His role was clear: protector. The one who would make sure nothing went wrong.

And then Jay, the pack leader, stood at the far end of the clearing, watching everything unfold. His eyes were gentle now, but there was still the sharpness of leadership in them. Jay never lost control, never showed weakness—but when it came to Riki, the depth of care he showed was undeniable.

Sunghoon watched in awe as the pack moved like a well-practiced dance. No one was rushed, no one was pushing. They were all there for Riki, each in their own way.

Riki’s breaths slowed as he leaned against Sunoo’s comforting touch. His body still trembled with heat, but the pressure in his chest seemed to ease slightly. Sunghoon could see now, clearer than ever, that this was a pack unlike any other. They weren’t just protective—they were deeply bonded to Riki in ways he hadn’t imagined.

As Sunghoon sat beside Riki, his eyes still on the pack, a sense of wonder and respect flooded him. The way they cared for Riki was... tender. Riki wasn’t a possession to them. He wasn’t just an Omega to be guarded or claimed. He was loved. Cherished. And Sunghoon couldn’t ignore the surge of admiration that filled him.

Riki’s eyes finally fluttered open, though still glassy. He met Sunghoon’s gaze for a brief moment, confusion and longing flickering in his expression.

“I… I need…” Riki’s voice trailed off into a broken sob, and his body twitched with the unbearable ache of heat. He couldn’t express it clearly, but Sunghoon felt it—the need, the pull of instincts that burned at the back of Riki’s mind.

Before Sunghoon could say anything, Jay’s deep voice cut through the air.

“He can’t make sense of it right now,” Jay said quietly, moving forward slowly. His words weren’t harsh—they were understanding. “Let him ride this out, Sunghoon. He’s not asking for a mate... just comfort. He needs us—his pack.”

Sunghoon nodded, fighting the surge of frustration inside. It wasn’t his time to claim Riki, to make him his. That would come later. But right now, he saw the true strength of the pack. Their bond was not just based on hierarchy or control. It was mutual. Every Omega, Beta, and Alpha was intertwined with Riki in a way that Sunghoon never knew was possible.

Riki whimpered again, his body arching slightly, his heat growing more intense. But he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t fighting this alone.

Sunoo held his hand gently, offering him comfort with soft murmurs. Jungwon’s voice continued to guide him, steady and grounding. Jake stayed close, ready to jump in at the first sign of trouble. Jay watched over them all, his presence like the calm center of the storm.

And in that moment, Sunghoon realized something important.

This wasn’t just about the knot. This wasn’t about fulfilling physical needs, no matter how intense. Riki’s heat wasn’t just something to be endured—it was a part of him, a vulnerable part that his pack had learned to navigate with care, patience, and love.

And maybe, just maybe, Riki didn’t need to be claimed by him. Maybe, just maybe, Riki was more than just the object of an Alpha’s instincts. He was a person, a soul surrounded by a pack that had always been there for him. Sunghoon wasn’t the only one who could care for him.

But that didn’t mean Sunghoon didn’t want to be part of it—didn’t mean he didn’t want to be there for Riki when the time was right.

He let out a soft breath, his instincts still burning, but his mind finally understanding.

This pack had a bond stronger than he could have ever imagined.

And it was one Sunghoon was slowly learning to respect.

The clearing was thick with tension.

They were back to the den.Riki’s body trembled uncontrollably, a mix of desire and frustration swirling in his hazy eyes. His scent had grown more pungent, thicker and heavier, filling the air with the undeniable ache of heat. His breath came in shallow gasps, every exhale laced with desperation. His thighs clenched together involuntarily, and a soft whimper escaped his throat.Slick — potent and sweet , uncontrollably leaking from his hole.

“I… I can’t…” Riki’s voice was barely audible, fractured with need. “I need you to fill me up , Alpha.”

His hand gripped Sunghoon’s tighter, pulling at him like a lifeline.

Sunghoon’s wolf was howling inside of him. The need to claim—to complete the Omega—roared so fiercely in his chest that his vision blurred. But he held back. His instincts told him to wait, to be gentle, to take this moment as it was meant to be. Riki needed care. He needed comfort. Not the raw heat of a mating—not yet.

Riki’s slick continue to leak, a glistening sign of his body’s desperate need for the knot. Sunghoon’s heart thundered in his chest as he saw it, his Alpha instincts flaring. His body wanted to take him, fill him, bind him in a way that was primal and consuming—but he couldn’t. Not like this.

Riki, lost in his haze, shifted against the ground, whimpering as his hips bucked with instinct. He was trying to find relief, his body craving the knot, the Alpha that could satisfy him and put an end to the ache deep inside him.

But the pack knew what had to be done.

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked to the others, and that was when it hit him. The way they were watching him—so carefully, so attuned to every shift in Riki’s body, every sigh, every movement. They knew.

Jay was the first to speak, his voice steady and firm, but there was something in it that Sunghoon couldn’t quite place.

“He’s calling for you,” Jay said, his eyes unyielding. “You’re the one, Sunghoon. Riki’s instincts have chosen you.”

The words hit Sunghoon like a blow to the chest. His wolf stirred violently, desperate to claim, but he was still holding back. Still trying to fight it.

Jungwon moved forward, his Beta eyes full of understanding. “Riki doesn’t want to be taken by anyone but you, Sunghoon. He’s been calling for you ever since you stepped into the clearing.”

Sunoo, ever the calming presence, leaned closer to Riki, gently smoothing his hair away from his face. “He’s scared, Sunghoon. But he’s trusting you. This is what he needs.”

" Please , be gentle with my Omega. This is his worse heat in his entire life , his scent is overwhelming. "Heeseung said—his eyes full of tears.

Riki’s body arched once more, a desperate cry tearing from his throat. He was trembling, slick pooling beneath him, making his thighs wet ,his legs shaking with the force of his body’s demand. His chest heaved with effort, and his gaze flickered to Sunghoon with a silent plea.

His wolf was aching. The need for the knot was all-consuming, and Sunghoon could feel it. The Omega’s body wanted him, and only him.

Sunghoon’s resolve finally cracked.

His body moved without thinking, closing the space between them. He lowered his head, his breath fanning over Riki’s heated skin as he finally allowed himself to touch him. His hand cradled Riki’s face gently, lifting his head to meet his eyes.

“Riki,” Sunghoon murmured softly, his voice rough, filled with restrained need. “I won’t hurt you. Trust me. I’ll give you what you need.”

Riki’s hands reached for him, pulling at his Alpha’s shoulders, his body trembling with desperate need. “Please…” he whispered, his voice breaking, “I need you. Need you—please breed me , Alpha.”

Sunghoon’s wolf howled in answer. This was it. The Omega was his, and his instincts would no longer allow him to resist. He was the one who would make this moment safe for Riki, the one to guide him through the storm of his heat.

With careful hands, Sunghoon moved Riki gently into position, making sure to keep the contact soft and slow. His wolf was restless, demanding, but Sunghoon held back, letting the pack's presence settle his frantic energy. They were there but not watching —giving the two pivacy.They were here for both of them, giving Sunghoon the strength to do this right.

He began to remove the sweaty top and his slicked pants.Simpe touches made Riki's body jolts and trembles . As sunghoon align his finger to the slicked hole—to loosen the tight meat , Riki moans in pleasure.A finger then another one until he is sure it's loosen enough for the omega to take him.The omega is still whining messy— desperate for his release and pushes his lower back to meet Sunghoon's powerful thrust.

"Alpha—I'm so clo—close...Please."The omega sobbed and took his hand to his mouth to muffle his moans.

"Not now , omega . I don't want you to drown in pleasure without me . You should only come from my cock."He growls low and in dominance. Riki sobbed harder but obeyed his Alpha .

Riki’s body pressed up against him, and the moment was undeniable. Sunghoon could feel the heat, the slickness, the way Riki’s body was begging for him. The knot that needed to fit, the instinctive drive to claim and protect. He couldn’t fight it any longer.

With a soft groan, Sunghoon aligned himself, gently nudging the tip of his cock against Riki’s entrance. The Omega gasped, his hips pressing forward as his body welcomed the Alpha’s touch.

“Riki…” Sunghoon whispered, almost too desperate to speak. “Are you ready?”

Riki’s reply was a broken sound, a needy whimper that sent a wave of heat through Sunghoon’s body. “Yes… please…need it—need it so bad Alpha..Please fuck me.”

And just like that, the moment was upon them. Sunghoon can't hold his wolf back.

Sunghoon pushed forward, slowly at first, feeling the tightness of Riki’s heat. The Omega’s body welcomed him, slick and hot, stretching around him in a way that made Sunghoon’s wolf roar in satisfaction.

Riki’s whimpering turned to soft moans, his body moving instinctively to meet Sunghoon’s thrusts. The heat in the air was thick with need, with the pull of instincts too powerful to ignore. Sunghoon’s knot began to swell, signaling that it was time. Every sharp thrusts hit the omega's prostate making him rolled his eyes back. He could no longer make any sound as he was drown in the pleasure.

"Alpha—you're so bi—big."

“I’m here, Riki,” Sunghoon murmured, burying his face in the crook of Riki’s neck, his breath ragged. “I won’t leave you. Not now. I will fuck you until you see stars , until you forgot your name—fuck—You're so pretty , my Love.” Sunghoon whispers close to Riki's ear making he clenched his hole hard.His thrusts became faster and faster making Riki arched his back more.

The knot pressed forward, and Riki’s body arched really sharp gasping as Sunghoon’s knot slid into place, locking them together. A soft, needy cry escaped Riki’s lips as he bucked against Sunghoon, feeling the knot finally settle deep inside him.

"Alpha , it hurts—it's stretching my hole —it hurts."Riki sobbed in pain as he feel the knot stretched him impossibly wider and harder.

Sunghoon kissed him—this time slower and passionate , not in hurry. Just to make Riki feel better and loved.

"I know love , sleep. It will get better once you wake up." He kissed his omega's forehead and lulled him to sleep.

And in that moment, everything stopped.

Sunghoon held Riki close, his wolf quieting as they were bound together, their bodies finally synced. The pack watched, knowing that this was what Riki needed, what he had been asking for without even realizing it.

The bond between them was not just physical. It was more than that. It was trust. It was care. And for the first time, Sunghoon realized that this pack wasn’t just a group of wolves—it was a family. They cared for each other in ways that were far beyond the physical need of the knot.

They had chosen Riki. They had loved him long before Sunghoon had even known he existed.

And now, they would be one.

---

The sun had barely risen when the forest began to stir with a new light. A gentle morning breeze swept through the trees, carrying the earthy scent of dawn and the lingering traces of their union the night before. The air was thick with the scents of both Sunghoon and Riki, intermingled with the heavy musk of heat.

Riki lay nestled in Sunghoon’s arms, his body still soft from their shared moments, his breathing shallow but steady. His body remained warm, and the remnants of his heat were still apparent in the subtle tremors that passed through him from time to time.

Sunghoon watched him closely, his heart tightening with a combination of tenderness and protectiveness. The knot had finally settled, and they were connected in a way that was both physical and something deeper, something Sunghoon hadn’t expected to feel so soon. His instincts told him to be careful with Riki, to be gentle with him, to let the Omega feel safe in this new bond.

Riki stirred softly in his arms, and Sunghoon’s hand gently ran through his damp hair, offering the Omega comfort with each tender stroke. Riki’s scent, still ripe with heat, lingered around them, but it was softer now, less urgent.

“Sunghoon…” Riki whispered, his voice hoarse from moaning and whimpering the night before. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, but there was something in them—an unspoken plea, a need that went beyond just the physical.

Sunghoon smiled softly, his heart swelling with affection as he pressed a gentle kiss to Riki’s forehead. “I’m here, Riki. You’re safe now.”

But Riki’s body was still aching. His heat hadn’t fully subsided, and Sunghoon knew this wasn’t over yet. The Omega’s body still craved him, still pulsed with the need for the Alpha. The slick was still leaking filling the room with intoxicating scent. He hadn’t been given the full release that his body demanded the night before, and Sunghoon understood that.

Riki looked up at him with those doe-like eyes, flushed from the remnants of his heat, his body shifting restlessly against Sunghoon. “I need you again,” Riki whispered, the vulnerability in his voice pulling at Sunghoon’s heart. “Please, I need you to… fill me again. Want your knot again , Alpha.”

Sunghoon felt a surge of heat flood through him at the rawness of Riki’s words. He can feel his dick growing hard again. His Alpha instincts were roaring to life again, the urge to claim, to mate, stronger than ever, but he didn’t give in to the primal pull. Instead, he kissed Riki softly, his lips tender but filled with the weight of understanding.

“You’re still in heat,” Sunghoon murmured, his hands running down Riki’s back soothingly. “But we’ll take it slow, okay? I’ll give you what you need.”

Riki’s response was a soft moan, his body shifting against Sunghoon’s in silent yearning. He wanted him. Desperately. And Sunghoon’s heart thudded in his chest as he pulled Riki closer, pressing their bodies together once more.

Before they could get lost in their own growing hunger, the pack began to move around them, their presence a reminder of the unity and support that surrounded them. Jay, standing at the door , his eyes filled with understanding, gave Sunghoon a knowing nod. Sunghoon covered Riki's naked body with blanket in hurry—possessive. His inner wolf was not happy to share the view of his omega alluring body . In Jay's eyes , there was no judgment, no rush. They were a family, and this was part of their bond.

“We’ll give you both privacy,” Jay said, his voice calm yet reassuring. “Take your time, Sunghoon. We’re here when you need us.”

Heeseung , Jake, Jungwon, and Sunoo all nodded in agreement, their expressions full of care and quiet approval. They knew Riki needed this, and they knew that Sunghoon was the one who could give him the comfort he was asking for. They weren’t just watching—they were giving their commitment, their understanding. This wasn’t just about Sunghoon and Riki. This was about the pack, their loyalty, and the love they all had for each other.

Sunghoon gave them a grateful look as they closed the door , leaving him and Riki alone. The clearing was silent, save for the soft rustle of the trees and the sound of Riki’s breath, still heavy with the weight of his heat.

As soon as they were alone, Sunghoon turned back to Riki, his eyes filled with an emotion he hadn’t fully expected. “I’m going to take care of you, Riki,” he whispered, his voice filled with an intimacy that went beyond the physical. “I’ll be gentle. You just need to tell me when you’re ready.”

Riki’s response was a soft sigh, his body pressing against Sunghoon’s as he eagerly sought the comfort he so deeply needed. His lips parted, and for the first time since Sunghoon had met him, Riki seemed completely vulnerable, completely trusting. “I’m ready… please,” he breathed, his hands trembling as they sought Sunghoon’s body.

Sunghoon leaned down, kissing Riki softly, but deeply, a kiss that held the weight of the moment—of their bond, of the need to protect, to cherish. His hands cupped Riki’s face, tilting his head back gently as he deepened the kiss, savoring the taste of him. He crawled to Sunghoon's lap .

Riki moaned softly, his body responding eagerly as Sunghoon’s hands slid down to his waist, pulling him closer. Their bodies met, and Sunghoon’s wolf stirred once more. The need to claim, to give Riki everything he needed, surged through him, but he fought it back. Riki was his to protect, to care for—and he would make sure this was something Riki wanted, something Riki needed.

“Are you sure?” Sunghoon whispered, his voice husky with restraint. “I’ll give you everything you need, but you have to tell me when.”

Riki’s eyes were glazed with heat, but there was a softness in them, a trust that was unspoken but clear. “I need you, Sunghoon. I trust you.” He started to grind himself , to find the pleasure he begged for. Sunghoon salivated on the sight.

"Let me ride you , Alpha."

And with those words, Sunghoon moved, his cock sliding into Riki with a tenderness that made the Omega gasp. His body was tight, his heat still demanding, but Sunghoon let Riki move with his own pace , he put his hands around his omega's waist with care, his thrusts slow and deep. Riki’s breath hitched with each thrust, his body shivering with every inch that Sunghoon claimed. He bounced harder and faster , feeling his Alpha's cock grew bigger and swelled . It was a rhythm built on need, but also care—a dance between them, moving in time with each other’s heartbeat.

"AHHH—I'M CUMMING ALPHA."Riki clenched his hole hard when he came, staining his abdomen and Sunghoon's.

"Fuck , omega—you're clenching me so hard." Sunghoon growls in pleasure and thrust with desire

The knot started to swell, and Riki’s gasps grew more urgent. Sunghoon’s hands gripped his hips firmly, guiding him as he thrust deeper, feeling Riki’s body yield and meet his thrusts in ways that made his heart race.

“Please… Sunghoon,” Riki whispered, his hands gripping Sunghoon’s shoulders, his back arching in ecstasy. Bouncing even faster and rolled his eyes back as every bounce made the cock hit his prostate.

“I’ve got you,” Sunghoon groaned, his voice filled with intensity. “I won’t leave you.”

"Alpha , I'm so close—I'm gonna cum again—so..so hard."

"Cum on my cock , omega . Milk my cum dry , come on." Sunghoon rolled Riki on his back and thrust with monstrous power. Making the omega screamed and arched his body beautifully .

"ALPHA PLEASE I CAN'T HOLD IT ANYMORE.AHHH—AHH." Riki cummed so hard that his eyes rolled back , he swear he saw stars— white stripes landed on his chest and Sunghoon's abdomen. "So beautiful when you cum , omega . My omega."

As he rode his climax , Sunghoon continue his thrusts , gripping Riki's thighs and increase his pace. Riki's body jerked hard everytime his Alpha's big cock tortures his overstimulated prostate , he knows his prostate is now puffy and red. He moans louder as the tingling feeling was too much for him.

"Alpha , please no more , I'm so sensitive right now—please " He beg Sunghoon when the pleasure was too much to handle. He twitched hard in every thrusts. But Sunghoon was not happy with that so he push his omega harder onto the bed.

"Be patient omega , you asked for this , now take it like a good whore you are." Sunghoon fasten his pace and thrust harder . Bring Riki in a sloppy and wet kiss. Riki's eyebrows knitted as the kiss muffled his moans.

Sunghoon know he would not last longer as Riki's beautiful face is now flushed and those red swollen lips that repeat his name like a mantra , his nipples were pink chocolaty and proudly stood. He took one in his mouth and bite the buds while flicked the other one—making Riki moaned loudly in his mouth .

"Ye—yes , I'm your whore , please—please don't stop Alpha—AHHHH ALPHA YOU'RE SO BIG." Riki lost in the pleasure Sunghoon gave him , he only knows how to moan Sunghoon's name and every seconds his swollen red mouth let out a alluring 'ah's . Then , Sunghoon felt familiar knot in his body and he knows he is about to cum .

"I'm cumming , love . Take it—take it all . I'm gonna fucking breed you full with my cum and make you carry my pup." Sunghoon growled loudly and gave
terrifyingly hard thrusts , growling and gave butterfly kisses all over Riki's face

"YES , CUM IN ME—BREED ME , ALPHA—I'M—I'M CUMMING TOO , ALPHA.AHH—AHHHHH

Riki and Sunghoon came together . Sunghoon cummed so hard that he was almost lose his balance . Panting hardly as he catches his breath. He thrust deeper , sealing the seed in .

As for Riki , it was his third cum , he arched his back , eyes white with loud moan , he was so worn out and sensitive—shortly after twitching and trembling , he fell asleep in Sunghoon's arms . Shortly after the knot soften , he took his dick out if Riki's heat and hiss when the cold air hit his sensitive shaft.

"I love you my moon , you are my forever treasure. Thank you for choosing me . I promise you that I will love you until the day I die."

The air was thick with the scent of their union—one of need, but also one of love, understanding, and the promise of something more.

The pack, waiting by the lakeside , gave them the space they needed, understanding that this moment wasn’t just about their physical needs—it was about their connection. The pack was so full of love and joy , Heeseung bury his face deep into his Alpha's chest—inhaling his scent while watching Jake and Jungwon having a contest , the most beautiful flower crown will be wear by Sunoo—the judger.

Riki's heat finally ended and the forest was alive with the sounds of birdsong, the rustling of leaves, and the quiet hum of the pack moving through their territory. But in the room , all was calm. Sunghoon lay beside Riki, his arms wrapped protectively around the Omega, his heart still racing from the intensity of what they had just shared.

Riki, now resting against Sunghoon’s chest, was still panting softly, his body exhausted but content. The knot between them had finally softened and untangled, leaving them connected in the most intimate of ways. Sunghoon could feel the remnants of their bond deep in his bones—an undeniable pull, a soft but unbreakable tether that now linked him to Riki forever.

Riki’s scent had shifted again, the ripe strawberry of his heat slowly fading, replaced by something sweeter, something uniquely theirs. His body, though still trembling with the aftermath of their union, felt safe and secure in Sunghoon’s embrace. And despite the lingering warmth of their connection, there was a peaceful silence that had settled between them.

Sunghoon, his chest still rising and falling with the intensity of their shared moments, gazed down at Riki with a tenderness that spoke volumes. His heart had been unexpectedly swept away by this Omega—by the way he trusted, the way he loved.

“Riki…” Sunghoon’s voice was rough but gentle, his fingers brushing through Riki’s hair as he gazed at the Omega. “You’re mine now. Officially.”

Riki’s eyes fluttered open, a soft, sleepy smile curving on his lips as he looked up at Sunghoon. “And you’re mine,” he whispered back, his voice full of quiet joy, but beneath it, the unmistakable bond of their connection thrummed. Riki’s body may have been exhausted, but his soul had found its place, nestled against Sunghoon’s side.

"My back hurts so much , Alpha " Riki purred into his Alpha's bare chest—seeking comfort.

"I'm sorry my love , I can't help myself." Sunghoon planted a few kisses all around Riki's face and his silver lock.

The pack, knowing that their new Alpha had finally claimed his Omega, quietly gathered around the bed , their presence felt but unspoken. They were patient, giving Sunghoon and Riki the time they needed. But their eyes all held a gleam of happiness, their hearts full of pride and joy. They were a family—one that had just expanded to include one more cherished member.

Jay, ever the leader, stepped forward first, his Alpha energy radiating calm but powerful warmth. He looked at Riki with a knowing smile, his voice deep with understanding. “Welcome to the pack, Riki,” he said, his words full of authority and affection. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

"How are you feeling today , Riki?" Heeseung asked with softness and love in his eyes. Feeling grateful because his omega had finally found his mate.

Jungwon, always the Beta with a calm presence, added with a soft laugh, “It’s about time, Sunghoon. You’ve been eyeing him for too long.”

Sunoo, ever the gentle Omega, walked over and knelt beside Riki, offering him a soft touch on the shoulder. “You’re safe now, Riki,” he said warmly. “We’ll take care of you. We’ve always got your back.”

Jake, the other Alpha in the pack, stepped forward with a proud grin. “You’ve got a good one, Sunghoon. We all knew you were meant to be together.”

Riki’s eyes fluttered with tears, but they weren’t tears of pain or fear. They were tears of joy. He had found his place. He had found his family. And for the first time, he felt truly at home. Not just in Sunghoon’s arms, but within the pack that surrounded them. The love, the understanding, the unspoken bond—they were all there, woven together into something stronger than Riki had ever imagined.

“Thank you,” Riki whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “All of you.”

Sunghoon’s chest tightened as he looked at his pack—his family—the ones who had accepted him, Riki, and their bond without question. He could see it in their eyes. They were happy. They were relieved. This was the beginning of something new for all of them.

With a soft exhale, Sunghoon gently lifted Riki’s chin, leaning down to kiss him, his lips soft and warm against Riki’s. It was a kiss of love, of commitment, of everything they had just shared. It was a promise that they would protect each other, that they would be a team.

When they finally pulled apart, Riki’s eyes were shining, his breath coming in soft pants, but this time, it was out of happiness and peace, not desperation.

“Are you alright?” Sunghoon asked, his voice tender as he ran his hand along Riki’s side.

Riki nodded, his smile wide and genuine. “Yes. I’m more than alright. I feel like… I finally belong. With you. With all of you.”

The pack surrounded them, standing close, their presence a reminder that they were one unit, a single, united force. Sunghoon’s chest swelled with pride. He had always been a lone wolf, but now, he wasn’t alone. He had Riki—and he had the pack.

Sunghoon stood slowly, carefully lifting Riki into his arms, and as he did, the rest of the pack followed suit, forming a circle around them. Jay stepped forward again, his voice rich with warmth.

“Riki is yours now,” Jay said, his tone solid and reassuring. “Please protect him. love him. We stand by Sunghoon and him, together.”

The pack howled in unison, a declaration of their new Alpha , their commitment to each other. Sunghoon held Riki close, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he looked down at the Omega in his arms.

“You’re mine now, Riki,” whispered, his voice full of certainty. “I'm yours now . Always.”

And with that, Riki leaned into Sunghoon, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he relaxed into the arms of his Alpha, his pack. The knot between them had finally loosened, but the bond—their bond—was stronger than ever, wrapped in a love that promised to only grow with time.

In the heart of the forest, surrounded by his pack, Riki felt more at peace than he ever had. He had found his Alpha, and he's surrounded by his family. The pack had grown stronger, and their bonds had deepened. No longer just an Omega in heat, Riki was now an integral part of something far greater—something built on love, trust, and unity.

---

The forest had changed with the seasons, the leaves now a rich shade of amber and gold, signaling the onset of autumn. Sunghoon adapted to his new pack and family. The pack had settled into their routine, but there was a noticeable shift in the air—a quiet excitement that everyone felt, especially Sunghoon. He’d sensed it from the moment Riki began to change.

The Omega, once delicate and soft, now carried something deeper within him—a life. The bond between Sunghoon and Riki had grown even stronger over the weeks since their heat, but now, it was being tested in a different way. Riki was pregnant with Sunghoon's pup.

It wasn’t just the soft glow to Riki’s skin, or the way his scent had become even sweeter in the mornings—especially after their long night , the tender way he moved with a new roundness to his form. No, it was the way their pack embraced this change. They were a family, and Riki’s pregnancy marked a new chapter in their lives. And Sunghoon couldn’t have been more thrilled.

One crisp morning, Sunghoon sat by the lake, watching the gentle ripples in the water. He was deep in thought, his fingers absentmindedly running through his hair as he thought about the future. He knew things were about to change even more for all of them, and he was ready. Riki had been showing signs for a while now—small but undeniable signs that their bond had led to something greater.

A soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Sunghoon," Riki called gently, approaching him. He had been spending more time by the lake, his hands gently resting over the small bump that was beginning to show. His eyes were soft, his smile shy but content. "I think it’s time to tell the others."

Sunghoon looked up at Riki, his heart swelling with affection as he stood and took Riki’s hand in his. He could feel the subtle warmth of Riki’s body, the new weight he carried with such grace. His Omega was glowing, but there was a nervousness in his eyes, a hesitation that Sunghoon had come to recognize.

“You’re sure?” Sunghoon asked, his voice low with concern.

Riki nodded, squeezing his hand. "I can’t hide it anymore. It’s becoming too obvious."

Sunghoon stepped closer, pulling Riki gently into his embrace, resting his cheek on Riki’s head. “I’m so proud of you,” he murmured. “We’re going to raise this pup together. With the pack. It’s going to be perfect.”

Riki leaned into him, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "I’m nervous. What if I’m not ready? What if I’m not good enough?"

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, tilting Riki’s chin up so that their eyes met. "You are more than enough, Riki. You have me, and you have the pack. We’ll help you every step of the way. You’re not alone in this."

Riki smiled, his heart settling at the reassurance, and the love in Sunghoon’s words. He had always known he was safe with Sunghoon, but now, knowing they would be parents together, it felt different. It felt real.

Together, they made their way back to the pack, finding them gathered in the clearing. The moment Sunghoon and Riki arrived, Jay was the first to sense the change. His sharp eyes narrowed, taking in the sight of Riki’s rounded belly and the slight change in his movements. A grin spread across the Alpha leader's face, and he nodded to Sunghoon, who was watching Riki closely.

“You’ve got something to tell us?” Jay asked, his voice full of warmth and curiosity.

Riki looked down at the ground for a moment, then back up at the pack, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt Sunghoon’s hand on his back, steadying him, supporting him.

"I’m carrying Sunghoon’s pup," Riki said softly, his voice trembling just a little. “We’re going to have a family.”

A wave of joy and pride swept over the pack. Sunghoon’s chest swelled with pride as he watched the reactions of his friends. Jungwon gave a small, surprised laugh, his Beta instincts quickly taking over.

“Really? You’re going to be a father?” Jungwon said, his voice filled with genuine happiness. He stepped forward to clap Sunghoon on the back, a playful grin on his face. “I guess that makes you more of a family man than I thought.”

Heeseung , his gentle Omega nature shining through, walked over to Riki, cupping his face with both hands. “You’re going to be a wonderful parent, Riki. We’ll be here for you. For both of you.”

Sunoo cried in Riki's embrace . Too happy with the news

Jake, always confident and strong, gave a nod of approval, his Alpha energy swirling around him. “This is the start of something amazing. We’ll protect you, Riki. We’ll protect the pup.”

The entire pack gathered around, offering their congratulations, their reassurance, their excitement. The love in the air was palpable. Riki felt overwhelmed, but in the best way. He had a family. He had Sunghoon. And together, they would raise this pup in the safest, most loving environment possible.

“I never thought I’d find this kind of happiness,” Riki whispered to Sunghoon as the pack celebrated around them. “I didn’t know that love like this even existed.”

Sunghoon pressed a soft kiss to Riki’s forehead, his voice low and filled with affection. “It exists because of you, Riki. You and this pack. You made me believe in it.”

And as the pack continued to celebrate the news, Sunghoon and Riki shared a quiet moment together. Riki’s body was still adjusting to the changes of carrying a pup, but in Sunghoon’s arms, he felt protected, loved, and more certain than ever that this new chapter of their lives was the most important one yet.

---

The days grew shorter, and the autumn leaves began to fall, scattering across the forest floor like pieces of fire. The pack had settled into a steady rhythm, their lives now focused on preparing for the arrival of Riki and Sunghoon’s pup. Riki’s belly had grown steadily, and now, as his due date approached, the entire pack was on edge with excitement and anticipation.

But there was one thing that had changed in Riki. His body, still carrying the growing life within him, had become more sensitive than ever. His cravings, once mild and manageable, had taken a turn toward something far more primal. Everytime he's aline with Sunghoon , he will be leaking with slick and
Sunghoon could see the way Riki’s eyes would cloud with desire, the subtle flick of his tongue across his lips, and the way he would sometimes press against Sunghoon as if seeking something deeper—something more.

It was late one evening when the intensity of Riki’s cravings hit a peak. The pack had gathered in the central clearing, the soft glow of the fire casting shadows around them as they sat together. But Riki was restless, his usually serene expression replaced with an almost frantic need.

Sunghoon, ever watchful, noticed the change in his Omega. Riki was sitting on the ground, his hand lightly resting over his swollen belly, but his eyes were distant, as if lost in a haze.

“Riki,” Sunghoon called softly, moving closer to him. “Are you alright?”

Riki’s eyes snapped to him, and Sunghoon was taken aback by the desperate look in them. Riki’s scent had changed again, more urgent now, filled with a deep longing that could only mean one thing.

“I need you, Alpha , want you to fuck me hard." Riki whispered, his voice laced with a softness and desire that sent a shiver down Sunghoon’s spine. "I crave you... your knot."

Sunghoon’s breath caught in his throat, his instincts kicking into overdrive as he realized what Riki was asking. The pregnancy had been beautiful, a bond between them that only deepened with time, but now, as Riki’s body neared its peak of readiness, Sunghoon could feel the tension that had been building. He could feel Riki’s need, raw and powerful, calling to him.

“I know,” Sunghoon murmured, his voice low, thick with desire, but he hesitated, his eyes searching Riki’s face. “But you’re almost there. Are you sure?”

Riki nodded, his breath shallow. “I’m sure. I need it, Sunghoon... I need you. The heat inside me... the hunger for you is unbearable.”

The air around them thickened, charged with the magnetism of Riki’s demand. Sunghoon could see the subtle tremor in Riki’s body, his Omega’s instincts finally breaking free. The Alpha inside Sunghoon stirred, his own body reacting to the call, the need to fulfill Riki’s craving. But this wasn’t just about lust—it was about something deeper, a connection that had been growing between them, something that was about to become even more unbreakable with the arrival of their pup.

Sunghoon lowered himself beside Riki, pulling him gently into his arms. He could feel the heat radiating from Riki’s body, the way Riki pressed against him, seeking the touch he so desperately needed.

“Are you ready for this, Riki?” Sunghoon asked, his voice softer than before, his hand gently stroking Riki’s swollen belly, feeling the life inside him stir. "Are you sure?"

Riki's eyes fluttered closed, a soft, needy moan escaping his lips. "Please, Sunghoon... I need you. I want to feel complete, feel you inside me. You’re my Alpha…"

Sunghoon’s heart thudded in his chest, and with a growl of approval, he leaned in to kiss Riki, his lips moving over Riki’s in a kiss filled with both love and an animalistic need. Riki’s hands clutched at his shoulders, pulling him closer, as if unable to get enough of his Alpha.

The pack, aware of what was happening but understanding the needs of their Alpha and Omega, had long since retreated into the shadows, leaving them alone to fulfill this need in peace. They knew the bond between Riki and Sunghoon was deep—more than just a simple physical connection. It was the beginning of their family, the beginning of a new chapter, and the pack’s loyalty to them both would never waver.

With one final glance into Riki’s eyes, Sunghoon gently lowered him onto the soft bed of moss, his heart racing as he moved over him. Riki gasped, his body already trembling with the anticipation. His Omega instincts, heightened by the pregnancy, were alive and demanding, his body practically begging for the release only Sunghoon could provide.

Sunghoon’s hand slid over Riki’s belly, his thumb brushing gently over the skin, feeling the life they had created. But the rest of his focus was on the Omega beneath him—the one who had given him everything, who had made him feel things he never thought possible.

Riki’s scent was intoxicating, a mix of the rich, sweet scent of his heat, his pheromones demanding attention. Sunghoon’s body responded instinctively. His wolf growled low in his chest, urging him to claim what was his, to seal their bond.

Riki arched against him, his body now slick with need. “Sunghoon… please…”

With a deep, possessive growl, Sunghoon moved over Riki, positioning himself carefully, but with a sense of urgency. The knot that would connect them was swelling, pressing against Riki, who let out a quiet whimper as his body instinctively pushed toward it.

“You’re mine, Riki,” Sunghoon growled as he finally entered him, the sensation of their bodies locking together sending waves of heat through them both. Riki’s breath hitched, a mix of pleasure and need flooding his senses. His body responded immediately, the knot between them swelling, becoming more intense as their bond deepened.

Riki moaned, his hands gripping Sunghoon’s shoulders as he felt his Alpha’s knot finally take hold. It was both painful and pleasurable, the heat within him overwhelming, but Sunghoon’s touch, his presence, made everything feel right. The connection between them felt complete—Riki was his, and together, they would bring new life into the world.

Sunghoon’s pace slowed, more tender now, as he focused on Riki, his hand gently caressing his Omega’s swollen belly. “I love you, Riki. You’re everything to me.”

Riki’s eyes fluttered closed, his body trembling with the overwhelming emotions rushing through him. “I love you too, Sunghoon. I’ve never felt more at home than I do with you.”

As the knot between them finally softened, Sunghoon held Riki close and drove his cock out from Riki's heat—hissing hard when the sensitivity hit him , Riki too—whine when he feel the friction in his overstimulated hole Then , they tangled together— feeling their bond grow stronger with each passing moment. They were no longer just a pack; they were a family. And with the new life they had created, their journey had just begun. Sunghoon kissed his belly "Sorry for the earthquake pup , your mommy misses daddy so bad."

Riki chuckled—hitting Sunghoon's arm with blush decorating his cheeks and they went to the dreamland together.

---

The fire had long since burned low, leaving only a gentle glow in the clearing. The pack had long since settled for the night, and now, under the soft light of the moon, only Sunghoon and Riki remained in the stillness of the forest.

Riki lay nestled against Sunghoon, his body feeling the familiar warmth of his Alpha. But tonight, there was a new sensation in his body—one that left him aching, both in pleasure and discomfort. His chest was swollen, tender to the touch, a part of the changes that came with his pregnancy. Everytime his shirt touches his nipples , he felt aroused and desperate for touch.It wasn’t the first time Riki had felt this, but tonight it felt different—more intense, more demanding. His breath came in soft, shallow gasps as his body, overwhelmed with desire and the fullness of his pregnancy, responded to the subtle shifts within him.

Sunghoon, ever watchful and attentive to Riki’s needs, could sense his Omega’s discomfort. His hands, warm and steady, reached out to gently trace the outline of Riki’s swollen chest. The intimate gesture sent a shiver down Riki’s spine, his body responding to the familiar touch of his Alpha. It wasn’t just about the physical contact—it was the tenderness in Sunghoon’s movements, the understanding, the silent promise that he would always care for Riki in this way.

“Does it hurt, baby?” Sunghoon’s voice was soft, almost a whisper in the night, as he pressed his palm gently against Riki’s chest. His Alpha instincts were sharp, feeling every subtle change in Riki’s body.

Riki let out a soft sigh, his hands instinctively reaching for Sunghoon’s, guiding them toward the tender flesh of his chest. The sensation of Sunghoon’s touch was almost too much, but in the best way. “It’s… it’s a little uncomfortable,” he admitted, his voice small, vulnerable. His eyes fluttered closed as he focused on Sunghoon’s steady hands. “It feels like I’m full… all over.”

Sunghoon’s heart ached at the sight of Riki’s gentle expression. He knew that Riki’s body was going through a lot, but his Omega’s comfort was always his priority. Sunghoon adjusted his position, gently lifting Riki so he could move closer, wrapping his arms around him in a protective embrace. He cradled Riki’s chest, his thumbs brushing lightly over the tender skin, sending waves of warmth through both of them. He took Riki on his laps

“You’re so beautiful,” Sunghoon whispered, his lips brushing against the side of Riki’s neck as he pressed a soft kiss there. His breath was warm against Riki’s skin, and Riki’s body instinctively leaned into him, craving the closeness. “I don’t want you to feel any pain. Let me help.”

Riki’s breath hitched as Sunghoon’s hands moved lower, caressing the delicate curve of his chest with careful precision. His body tingled with the intimacy of the moment—the closeness that only an Alpha and Omega shared. The pressure in his chest lessened with each soothing touch, the gentleness of Sunghoon’s movements filling him with a sense of peace he hadn’t known he needed. He jolted when he feels Sunghoon tease his swelling nipples.

“I’ve got you,” Sunghoon murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed his lips gently to the center of Riki’s chest. The skin beneath his lips was warm and soft, and Sunghoon felt his wolf stir at the closeness, the need to protect and cherish Riki in every possible way.

Riki’s hands found their way to Sunghoon’s hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he pulled him closer. “I… I need you, Sunghoon,” Riki whispered, his voice low and needy, filled with the raw desire that had only grown stronger as his pregnancy progressed. “I need you to make me feel... whole again.”

Sunghoon paused, his gaze darkening with a mixture of possessiveness and love. He understood the depth of Riki’s words. It wasn’t just about their bond; it was about the way Riki needed him—his knot, his Alpha. The desire that pulsed between them was undeniable, but tonight was about more than just the physical. It was about being there for Riki in every way, making him feel cherished, loved, and cared for.

“Anything for you, Riki,” Sunghoon said, his voice rough with emotion as he pressed another kiss to Riki’s chest, this time lingering longer. “You’re mine, and I’ll do anything to make you feel loved.”

The intimacy in the air thickened, the connection between them deepening as Sunghoon continued to explore the sensitive skin of Riki’s chest. His lips trailed along the curve of Riki’s neck, the delicate flesh beneath him, the pulse of Riki’s heartbeat resonating beneath his touch. Every movement, every kiss, every caress spoke of the bond they shared. It was more than just physical—it was emotional, spiritual, a promise that they were in this together.

Sunghoon's tounge finally arrived at the swollen buds , his eyes never leave Riki's as he took one into his mouth and tease it with his teeth , graze it softly—flick it with his tounge while he flicked the ither one so that it does not feel lonely /p>

Riki let out a soft, contented sigh, his body arched and pull his chest more into Sunghoon’s embrace. His swollen nipples, once aching with discomfort, now felt lighter, soothed by Sunghoon’s touch and the overwhelming love between them.

Sunghoon took the other one , gave it some couple licks before put it in his hot cave—biting into it and suck with force—hoping for some milk to quench his thirst over Riki . Riki moaned messily and arched his back—he took Sunghoon's mouth and bring it closer to his nipples. His slick leaking so much he felt so uncomfortable

"You're getting wet from your Alpha sucking your nipples , omega ? What a slut." Sunghoon whispers into Riki's ear and that's the final straw for Riki.

He cummed so hard in his pants forming a wet patches. Is breath ragged and body full of sweat. He twitched slightly and panted hard

"Now you came untouched just from this , omega . You're really a slut , my slut." Sunghoon kissed his flushed omega . "You're so beautiful my love."

“T—thank you,” Riki whispered, his voice barely a breath as he nuzzled against Sunghoon’s shoulder. “You always know how to make me feel safe.”

Sunghoon smiled mischievously , his heart swelling with affection for his Omega. “I’ll always know, Riki. I’ll always know.”

"Now let's clean you up , baby." Sunghoon carried Riki in his string arms and headed to the bathroom. After they cleaned themselves , Sunghoon dressed his omega into his night gown and went to bed.

And as they lay there, wrapped in the warmth of each other, the intimacy of their bond grew stronger than ever, the world around them fading into nothingness. In this moment, it was just them—together, forever.

---

Months after , the forest was silent, cloaked in the stillness of early dawn. A soft fog rolled through the trees, and the sky above was painted in the faint blush of morning. But deep in the heart of the pack’s den, silence had given way to labored breaths, to soft whimpers of pain—and to love.

Riki lay on a nest of moss and warm pelts, his face damp with sweat, his lips parted as he panted through another wave of pressure that racked his trembling body. His swollen belly was taut, the time had come. The pup he carried, the one created out of instinct and trust, was ready to meet the world.

Sunghoon sat at his side, never letting go of Riki’s hand. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding. His other hand was on Riki’s belly, feeling every tightening, every shift. His Alpha instincts screamed at him to protect, to soothe, to do something—but all he could do was be present, offer his love, and lend his strength.

“I’m right here, baby,” Sunghoon whispered, his voice hoarse. He brushed damp strands of hair from Riki’s forehead and kissed the top of his head. “You’re doing so well. Just a little more. I’ve got you.”

Riki whimpered, eyes fluttering as another contraction hit. “It hurts, Sunghoon… it hurts so much.”

“I know,” Sunghoon said, swallowing hard, his voice breaking. “I know, love. But you’re not alone. I’m here. Always.”

Beside him, Sunoo held a damp cloth to Riki’s face, whispering soft encouragements as tears welled in his own eyes. “You’re so strong, Riki. Just breathe, okay? We’re all here. Just breathe…”

Heeseung full with warmth and love , whispers calming and loving nothings to his ears , sending comfort and strength."You're strong my baby , you can do this."

At the end of the den, an older Beta knelt in calm focus. Yunjin, the wise healer of the forest, had been summoned as soon as Riki's pains began. Her presence was steady and grounding. Her experienced hands moved with care as she checked on Riki's condition, murmuring calm, ancient words passed down from generations of birth-keepers.

“The pup’s almost here,” Yunjin said gently, eyes warm. “Riki, you’re doing beautifully. Your body knows what to do. Just listen to it, and let us guide you.”

Riki nodded weakly, tears sliding down his cheeks as his legs trembled. His chest was rising and falling fast, and the ache was everywhere—his back, his hips, deep in his core. He felt split open, full and empty all at once.

Then came the final wave.

Riki’s eyes widened, and he cried out—a sound so raw and full of pain it pierced straight through Sunghoon’s heart. The Alpha gripped his hand tighter, his forehead pressing against Riki’s as he whispered, “You’re almost there. You’re almost there, Riki. Just one more push. For us. For our pup.”

With a cry laced with pain and determination, Riki pushed, his body arching from the intensity. Sunghoon , Heeseung and Sunoo held him steady, whispering over and over, “You can do this. You’re doing amazing. We love you.”

And then—
A sharp, piercing cry filled the den.

The pup’s first sound rang out like a blessing, echoing off the stone walls and silencing everything else. Riki gasped, his body collapsing back into the nest, tears spilling freely now—not from pain, but relief.

Yunjin cradled the tiny, wriggling bundle in her arms, wrapped quickly in soft fur. She smiled as she handed the pup to Riki. “A strong one. Healthy. A beautiful little pup.”

Riki’s arms trembled as he took his child into his chest. His lips quivered as he looked at the tiny, crying life that now rested against him. “Ours…” he whispered, barely able to speak through his tears. “Sunghoon, he’s ours…”

Sunghoon’s hands trembled as he reached out, brushing a finger gently down the pup’s cheek. “You did it, Riki. I’m so proud of you.” His voice broke completely as he leaned down, kissing Riki’s forehead, then the baby’s.

Sunoo’s face was wet with tears, his hand pressed to his heart. “He’s perfect… Riki, he’s perfect.”

Heeseung broke into tears in Jay's chest . Can't help but feeling touched by the sight.

Yunjin gave them space, quietly cleaning the remaining mess, her eyes fond. She looked at Sunghoon and said softly, “Take care of them both. This bond—this family—it’s rare. Treasure it.”

Sunghoon nodded silently, his eyes never leaving Riki and the baby nestled in his arms.

Riki turned to Sunghoon, exhausted but glowing with something deeper than light—a love that pulsed with the strength of pack, of bond, of instinct. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For staying. For loving me. For being his Alpha.”

Sunghoon leaned down again, wrapping both Riki and the pup in his arms, his voice firm and gentle. “You’re mine, Riki. Both of you are. And I’ll protect you for the rest of my life.”

Outside, the sun began to rise, golden light spilling into the den.

And within, a new family had been born.

---The days after the birth passed like a dream—soft and golden, filled with quiet awe. The den had never felt warmer. The newborn pup, nestled at Riki’s side, slept soundly, his tiny fingers curled, his scent delicate and pure.

Riki was glowing—but tired.

His body ached from the delivery, and his chest was swollen, sensitive, and sore. The pup had begun to root, small mouth seeking comfort and nourishment, but Riki struggled. His body was willing—more than willing—but his inexperience and discomfort made him anxious.

Sunghoon noticed immediately.

He returned from fetching clean furs to find Riki hunched over the baby, lips pressed tight in frustration, his eyes misted over with tears. The pup squirmed softly, trying again to latch, but Riki winced and pulled back.

“Hey, hey…” Sunghoon rushed to his side, placing a hand over his. “You don’t have to do this alone, love. I’m here.”

“I’m trying,” Riki whispered, voice cracking. “But it hurts and I—I’m scared I’m doing it wrong. He needs me and I…”

Sunghoon leaned down and gently kissed his forehead. “You’re doing everything right. Let me help, yeah?”

With calm, practiced hands, Sunghoon settled behind him, pulling Riki into his lap so his Omega could lean against his chest. He gently guided Riki’s hands, helping him hold the pup properly, while his other hand softly supported Riki’s swollen chest.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, rubbing gentle circles against Riki’s side. “Breathe with me, baby. You’re safe. Let’s do it together.”

With Sunghoon’s steady warmth surrounding him, Riki finally relaxed. The pup let out a soft cry—and latched. Riki gasped, eyes wide, hand flying to Sunghoon’s arm. But instead of pulling away, he stayed. The discomfort faded into something warm, something overwhelming. Milk flowed, and their baby suckled contently, cradled in his parents' embrace.

Tears rolled down Riki’s cheeks—but these were happy ones.

Sunghoon kissed them away.

The den door rustled gently, and familiar scents filled the space—comforting, grounding. The pack had arrived.

Jay entered first, proud and composed, with Heeseung close beside him, their fingers laced. Heeseung— who is pregnant with Jay's pup shows evidence of their own joy to come. Jake bounded in right after, a soft blanket in his hands, grinning brightly. Sunoo entered with a basket of berries and gentle eyes, followed by Jungwon with more fresh furs.

They paused at the sight.

Riki, nestled in Sunghoon’s arms, their pup feeding quietly, the light of morning haloing around them like something sacred.

“Oh,” Heeseung whispered, teary already. “He’s perfect.”

Jay stepped forward, placing a hand over his heart before resting it lightly on Riki’s shoulder. “You’ve done our pack proud, Riki. You brought new life into this world. You are loved, and never alone.”

Jake crouched beside them, gently brushing the pup’s tiny head. “Look at this little guy… already stealing hearts.”

Jungwon smiled softly, placing down the furs. “He’s lucky. To have you two. And to have us.”

Sunoo sat on Riki’s other side, gently smoothing his hair. “You’re glowing. Seriously. The baby’s perfect, and so are you.”

The warmth that bloomed in Riki’s chest now had nothing to do with milk.

It was the love that surrounded him, the pack that protected him, the Alpha who held him, and the pup who completed him.

The room fell into a quiet hush as the pup finally pulled away, lips parted in sleep, cheek resting against Riki’s chest.

“What should we name him?” Jake asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Riki looked at Sunghoon.

Their eyes met—so much love, so much history in that gaze. From that first encounter by the lake, to stolen glances, to tangled instincts and soft nights. From the ache of heat to the soft hum of breastfeeding now.

Riki smiled. “Jaeun,” he said softly. “Grace and strength. Like his pack.”

Sunghoon kissed his temple. “Jaeun.”

The name settled over the den like a blessing.

Jay bowed his head. “Welcome to the world, Jaeun. Welcome home.”

And as the pack closed in around them, in laughter and warm touches, with promises of love and protection, Riki knew:

This was forever.

His Alpha.

His pup.

His family.

His pack.

The beginning of everything.

—The End.

Chapter Text

The first time Heeseung noticed the note, it was folded so neatly it looked like it belonged between the pages of a well-loved novel, not tucked under the vent of his locker door. It was barely the size of his palm, the edges scalloped like someone had taken the time to use craft scissors. A piece of strawberry candy—a kind wrapped in shiny pink foil—was gently resting on top, as if guarding the words inside.

Heeseung held the note between his fingers for a moment, smiling faintly. The locker room was half-empty, the evening sunlight casting long golden streaks across the benches and tiled floor. The scent of sweat and wood polish still lingered after practice, but this—this little note—smelled like something different. Sweet. Careful. Almost like trust.

He peeled the candy away, unwrapping the paper slowly. Inside, a single sentence was written in small, slanted handwriting:

—“You looked tired today. I hope this makes you smile.”—

No name. No clue. Just the softness of someone watching from a distance.

And it did make him smile.

—

Riki lingered by the doorway that led to the gym hallway, hidden just beyond the edge of the frame where sunlight met shadow. His fingers clutched his notebook tight to his chest, heart thudding like it always did when he watched Heeseung—never close, always just far enough not to be noticed.

Heeseung was everything Riki was not.

Tall, confident, easygoing. The kind of boy who shone without needing to try, like the sun always found him on the court, like the whole world paused to watch him move. He laughed with his teammates, carried the weight of their expectations with quiet grace, and looked like he belonged in every place Riki could only visit quietly.

Riki, on the other hand, could never seem to find his voice. Words lived in his head but died in his throat, and so he gave them away in silence—on slips of paper, hidden with bits of sweetness, like a trail only the right person would follow.

He never expected anything in return. Not really.

But when he saw Heeseung pause, read, and smile—smile—Riki felt a flicker of something soft and foolish and warm. Hope, maybe.

He scribbled another note that night. Took longer folding it this time. Added a second candy—orange-flavored, because he remembered Heeseung laughed once when someone mentioned he liked citrus more than chocolate.

“—Your free throws were perfect today. I think your smile’s even better.”—

Still no name.

Still just the boy in the shadows, quietly in love with the boy on the court.

—

By the time the championship game approached, Heeseung had collected seven notes and a pocketful of candies he hadn’t the heart to eat.

Each note was different, but all were laced with the same quiet care. Encouragement written like whispers: soft, unwavering, personal in a way that made Heeseung’s heart ache.

The latest note appeared the morning of the big game:

—“You’ve worked so hard. I’ll be in the first row. Win or lose, I’m already proud of you.”—

It made his throat tighten, just a little.

Locker 14 had become his favorite place in the entire school, not because of the rows of jerseys or his basketball shoes, but because someone thought of him there—someone who saw him when the gym lights dimmed and sweat slicked his brow, someone who believed in him not for the points he scored, but for something much smaller, much sweeter.

And now they’d be watching him from the front row.

—

Heeseung tried not to look, but his eyes scanned the audience every chance he got.

First row. Row one.

There were dozens of students pressed close to the railing, all noisy, all cheering. His gaze moved quickly—past the girls with face paint, past his teammates' siblings, past faculty members. And then—

There.

A boy sat still as glass in the chaos. Slim frame, a neat uniform with a baby blue ribbon pinned to his chest like a soft decoration. His hair was silvery and fell lightly over his brow, and his lashes were impossibly long. His eyes, wide and bright, clung to the court like it was the only thing that mattered.

Riki.

The pretty first-year.

Everyone knew him.

Not because he tried, but because he was the kind of beauty that stories were written about. Too soft, too silent, and too adored. Seniors doted on him, juniors followed him like moths, and Heeseung—Heeseung had always thought of him like something untouchable.

Like porcelain. Like moonlight.

Not someone who would write on wrinkled paper and leave candies by a locker. Not someone who would watch him like this, like he mattered beyond the final score.

It couldn’t be Riki.

…could it?

—

Riki clutched the hem of his blazer, nervous fingers twisting at the thread. Heeseung looked so steady on the court, golden under the lights. Everything about him—the way he dribbled, the way he glanced at the scoreboard with soft resolve—made Riki's heart squeeze.

Heeseung hadn’t eaten the last candy, Riki noticed. He’d seen it tucked in the mesh pocket of his duffel, unopened, like something precious.

Riki didn’t need Heeseung to know. Not really.

It was enough to be near. To watch. To love him gently from the corners of his world.

But still…when their eyes briefly met—

Just for a second.

Just enough to freeze time—

Riki forgot how to breathe.

And Heeseung… Heeseung looked like he was wondering something dangerous.

The scoreboard buzzed loud enough to shake the gym floor.

Heeseung’s hands were still tingling from the final shot—clean, perfect, right through the net with two seconds left. The crowd had roared, a wave of sound and movement washing over him, but he only saw flashes: arms flung around shoulders, confetti tossed from the bleachers, teammates lifting him in the air.

But none of it held his attention for long.

Because in the middle of the noise, his eyes darted—searching.

First row, first seat.

Empty.

The silver-haired boy, the still one in the chaos, was gone.

Heeseung’s breath caught, an odd flicker of disappointment curling low in his chest. He had planned—he didn’t know what, exactly. A glance, a smile, maybe even a word. Something real to tie him to the softness of the notes and the quiet hope in them.

But Riki—if that had even been him—was nowhere.

Heeseung stood still in the middle of the court as his teammates celebrated, the gold medal now swinging loosely from his neck. He smiled for the cameras, let himself be pulled into group photos, but his mind was chasing someone who’d vanished like a ghost.

It wasn’t him, he told himself. Couldn’t be.

Riki was like a secret the school didn’t want to share. He walked with unintentional grace, like silence draped itself around him by choice. There were always people around him, yet he never seemed to let anyone close.

Heeseung had seen seniors go soft at the mention of his name, watched students offer their lunches just for a second of his time. He was admired the way artists admired stars—not to touch, only to look.

Surely someone like that didn’t write little notes. Surely someone that beautiful didn’t watch him.

Right?

—

Riki was breathless by the time he reached the back of the library. It was closed for the evening, but he knew the side door was left cracked by the kind janitor who always forgot to lock up. He dropped his bag on the nearest table and pulled out the pale yellow stationery—one of his favorites. It was pressed with little gold stars along the edges.

His hand shook a little as he uncapped his pen.

—“You were incredible. I knew you would be. Congratulations, Captain.”—

He paused. Then, in smaller letters:

“(P.S. You looked happiest when you were running back to your team. That smile is something I’ll never forget.)”

He tucked in a blueberry candy this time. Maybe Heeseung would like the change. Maybe he’d think it was from someone else.

Riki didn’t know what he was doing anymore. Only that this little, secret ritual had become the way he breathed.

Maybe tomorrow Heeseung would smile again.

And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.

—

The hallway was nearly silent at 6:47 AM—just the faint hum of vending machines and the occasional squeak of sneakers on the floor. Riki clutched the small note to his chest, heart pounding loud enough to drown out reason.

He had barely slept.

His mind had replayed every second of the game, every flash of Heeseung’s determined gaze, the curve of his smile as the crowd lifted him in praise. Riki hadn’t stayed long enough to see him bask in it. He couldn’t. If he had stayed—if their eyes had met again—Riki was terrified his secret would spill out of his chest like gold threads unraveling.

So he left.

He ran, heart fluttering like pages in the wind, straight to the library to write. To keep the magic alive while still hiding behind it.

Now, standing before Locker 14, he swallowed hard.

The yellow note was small in his hands, a blueberry candy taped gently to the corner. He slipped it through the vent, quiet as a breath. Then he stepped back, staring at it for just a second too long.

“Hey, Riki!”

The voice startled him.

Riki spun around, eyes wide, face instantly pink.

It was just one of his classmates, not Heeseung—but still, too close. Too sudden.

“You’re here early, huh? You don’t even like sports. Don’t tell me you watched the game last night?”

Riki blinked. He hesitated for only a beat.

Then—softly, quietly—he shook his head.

“I don’t really care about basketball,” he said, voice delicate, barely rising above the hallway’s silence. “I had library duty.”

A lie. One he told so gently it felt almost true.

He smiled, shy and polite. And inside, something fluttered painfully.

Because this was how he kept the line between them. This was how he stayed safe.

He didn’t want Heeseung to know. Heeseung, the sun, the golden boy with the smile that could undo him.

So he pretended. Wore his silence like armor.

And later, when he walked past Heeseung and their eyes met briefly in the corridor, Riki gave him nothing.

No flicker of recognition. No warmth. Just a small, perfect nod of respect—and then he looked away.

Heeseung frowned, confused.

Because surely, someone who had written that note wouldn’t look at him like they’d never thought of him at all.

Right?

—

The courtyard was warm, the late morning sun casting lazy shadows across the pavement as the basketball team gathered for their break. Laughter echoed between bites of sandwiches and the clatter of soda cans cracking open.

Heeseung sat with Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon under the old camphor tree that curved like a guardian over the bench. It was the usual spot—quiet enough to chat, close enough to the gym in case the coach decided to ruin their day with a surprise sprint session.

Jake was mid-story, arms flailing, dramatic as always. “No, but seriously—he just walked by and the girl next to me literally dropped her pen like she forgot how fingers work. Riki’s got the power of a drama scene without even trying.”

Jay scoffed with a grin. “Of course she did. That kid doesn’t even speak and people still go feral. It’s the hair. It’s gotta be the hair. Or the way he floats when he walks.”

“He doesn’t float,” Sunghoon said, chuckling, “he just… glides. You know, like—like a prince in some old fairytale. He’s got that untouchable vibe, like if you got too close, you'd disintegrate or something.”

Jake whistled low. “Yeah, but tell me you wouldn’t want to get close. I mean—those legs? That little pout he does when he’s confused? Those waist and hips when he's walking?”

"Period." Sunghoon whistles.

Jay laughed loudly, nudging Heeseung’s shoulder. “Bet even you’ve noticed, huh, Captain? You’re all quiet over there.”

But Heeseung didn’t laugh.

He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even looking at them.

His jaw was tight. His hands were loosely curled in his lap. His eyes had followed Riki when he passed the tree moments ago—just like everyone else’s had. Riki had walked past in his usual gentle silence, holding a book to his chest, eyes cast downward like he belonged to some other world.

And then the others had started talking.

And joking.

And crossing lines.

Heeseung stood up abruptly.

The half-eaten sandwich in his hand was set down carefully on the bench. His drink remained unopened.

“I’ll catch you guys later.”

The air shifted.

Jake blinked. “Wait—what? You’re leaving?”

Jay frowned. “Bro, we’re just messing around—what’s with you?”

Sunghoon looked between them, confused. “You always laugh when we joke like that.”

Heeseung didn’t answer right away. He just looked in the direction Riki had gone, his gaze unreadable.

Then, quietly: “Not today.”

And he walked off, leaving three stunned teammates in his wake.

The truth sat heavy in his chest.

He couldn’t laugh—not when they turned something gentle into something careless. Not when the boy who left him thoughtful, trembling notes was being spoken about like that. Even if they didn’t know. Even if he barely knew himself.

Because Riki wasn’t just “pretty.”

He was something sacred.

And Heeseung was starting to realize he didn’t want to share that kind of beauty with anyone else.

Heeseung had always been the kind of person who noticed the small things.

Like how Riki laughed—not with the boisterousness that filled the hallways during lunch, but a delicate, soft laugh, like the sound of wind chimes stirred by a gentle breeze. Heeseung had caught it once, when some girls nearby were joking, and even though the joke was silly, Riki’s laugh was so pure it made the moment feel like a secret shared between two people who understood each other without words.

Riki was often alone. Always by himself during breaks, sitting quietly on the bench, head bent over a book or scribbling notes on a small pad. But Heeseung never saw loneliness in him. Instead, there was a calm, steady presence, as if Riki carried a whole quiet world inside—a world that didn’t need noise or crowds to feel complete.

One afternoon, Heeseung had stayed late after practice and spotted Riki in the hallway, kneeling beside the janitor who was struggling with a heavy bucket. Without a word, Riki had stepped forward, helping lift the weight and steady the mop. The janitor smiled, and Riki’s eyes softened in return. It was such a simple act, but it made Heeseung’s heart twist in a way he hadn’t expected.

It wasn’t just Riki’s beauty that held him captive—the perfect way sunlight caught his hair or the grace in every step.

It was his kindness, his gentle spirit, the way he moved through the world like a quiet light in the shadows.

Heeseung realized, with a sinking thrill in his chest, that he was already in deep love.

Not the loud, dramatic kind that filled the basketball court with cheers.

No—this was something softer. Something slow and sure, like the warmth of the sun on a cool morning.

And he didn’t want to let it go.

—

The next day , In the quiet corner of the library, Sunoo and Jungwon exchanged amused glances as they listened to Riki—who was, for once, unusually loud.

“I’m not shouting,” Riki protested, cheeks flushed a soft pink, “I’m just… expressing myself.”

Sunoo raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Expressing yourself? That sounded like a full-blown yell about Captain Heeseung.”

Jungwon chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “We get it, Riki. You like him. You’ve been mooning over him since forever. But it’s time to stop whispering and start telling, you know?”

Riki bit his lip nervously, twiddling the hem of his sleeve. “I’m not sure. What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if I mess everything up?”

Sunoo’s expression softened. “You won’t know unless you try. Besides, Heeseung’s not as untouchable as you think. He notices you more than you realize.”

Jungwon nodded in agreement. “Yeah, and you’re not alone in this. We’ve got your back, always.”

Riki looked down, uncertainty still clouding his eyes, but a small spark of hope flickered inside him.

“Maybe… maybe someday,” he whispered.

Sunoo grinned. “That’s the spirit. And hey, start small. A note, a smile, anything. We’ll help you with the rest.”

Jungwon added with a wink, “Just don’t keep hiding behind those notes forever.”

Riki smiled shyly, heart pounding—not from fear this time, but from something new: courage.:

---

Heeseung shuffled slowly through the school halls, his ankle still stiff but healed enough to walk without crutches. The echoes of the gym, the familiar buzz of chatter and sneakers, felt like a distant memory after days of forced silence and rest.

Two days had passed since the accident—two days of missing everything that made school feel alive.

As he reached his locker, Heeseung’s eyes caught sight of something taped carefully to the inside of the door. A pale yellow note, edged with delicate gold stars, accompanied by a small packet of blueberry candies—the signature he recognized instantly.

He carefully peeled off the tape and unfolded the note.

—“School isn’t the same without you. The court feels emptier and the halls quieter. I hope you’re resting well. I all miss the way you light up everything without even trying.”—

Heeseung’s lips curled into a soft smile as warmth blossomed in his chest.

For the first time in days, the silence around him didn’t feel empty.

Someone had been thinking of him all along.

---

The cozy hum of the café wrapped around Heeseung and his friends as they settled into their usual corner. This time, the conversation was different—no teasing or laughter about Riki’s delicate beauty.

Instead, Jake leaned in with a serious tone. “Did you guys hear about that girl? The one whose video went viral? She’s pregnant now. Crazy how fast things spiral.”

Jay nodded slowly, frowning. “Yeah, that’s rough. Makes you think about privacy and how careless people can be.”

Sunghoon shook his head, adding, “High school’s a minefield sometimes.”

Heeseung listened but his thoughts drifted away, distracted by a quiet movement nearby.

Riki was walking past their table, head lowered, clutching a book to his chest.

Suddenly, something fluttered from Riki’s pocket—a small candy wrapper.

It drifted down and landed softly by Heeseung’s side.

Heeseung’s breath hitched.

He bent down slowly and picked it up.

The wrapper was a delicate shade of blue—exactly like the blueberry candies he’d been finding tucked away in his locker notes.

His heart throbbed violently, a mix of surprise and something tender blooming inside him.

He looked up just in time to see Riki disappear around the corner.

For a moment, Heeseung stood frozen, the wrapper tight in his fingers.

Could this be the sign he’d been waiting for?

—

Heeseung stood there, the candy wrapper still folded carefully in his fingers. The familiar blue color stirred something hopeful deep inside him—but the silence that followed was heavier than he expected.

Riki had walked away without leaving any note today. No folded paper, no delicate words tucked away with those little candies.

Heeseung’s chest tightened.

Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Maybe someone else had the same candy.

The hopeful flutter in his heart sank, leaving a dull ache behind.

He tucked the wrapper into his pocket, swallowing the disappointment.

Maybe tomorrow, he told himself quietly.

Maybe tomorrow, I’ll find the note again.

But for now, the quiet lingered, and Heeseung was left wondering if the beautiful, untouchable boy was really reaching out—or if he was just chasing a shadow.

—

The hallway was unusually quiet as students moved between classes, their footsteps echoing softly off the lockers. Heeseung was lost in thought when suddenly, a figure came into his path—a little too close.

Heeseung stumbled back, eyes meeting those of the pretty, timid boy he’d been thinking about so much.

For a moment, neither spoke. The air between them was thick with unspoken words and nervous energy.

Before things got even more awkward, Jake appeared beside Heeseung, breaking the silence with an easy smile.

“Hey, Riki,” Jake greeted warmly, using the nickname the group had for Riki. “How’s it going?”

Riki blinked, caught off guard but managed a small nod, cheeks flushing faintly.

Heeseung watched quietly, the knot in his chest tightening and loosening all at once.

Sometimes, the smallest moments spoke louder than any note ever could.

—

Heeseung stayed still, hands shoved in his jacket pockets as Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon effortlessly fell into conversation with Riki.

It started light—Jake asking if he’d watched the game replay, Sunghoon cracking some joke about how he ran like a chicken when he almost missed the last pass, and Jay throwing in a lazy, flirtatious comment like, “Riki, are you always this pretty in the hallways or is it just when I’m around?”

Riki didn’t laugh loudly, but he smiled. Softly. Timidly.

Oh god he was so in love with this boy.

And that was enough for them to keep going.

Jake leaned closer, still grinning, “We should all go out after the finals next week. Come with us—seriously, we need someone elegant to balance out our chaos.”

Riki just shook his head gently, hiding behind the sleeves of his sweater, mumbling something polite and sweet in return. His voice was barely audible, but his presence still glowed.

And Heeseung?

He stood a little to the side, half in the shadows of his own friends.

He didn’t speak.

He just watched. Quietly.

Listened to Riki’s soft laughter—laughter that didn’t belong to him.

His chest ached with something strange and sharp.

Is this what you really sound like when you're not writing notes? he thought.

He watched how the corners of Riki’s eyes curved when he smiled, how he held his books like a shield and tilted his head when someone teased him too boldly.

And he realized…

He wanted to be the one Riki looked at like that.

Not just the name on a note. Not just the captain on the court.

He wanted to be real to him.

Heeseung looked down, clenching his fist around the old candy wrapper in his pocket.

I’ll find a way, he promised himself.

Even if it meant being patient just a little longer.

—

Riki stood in the hallway, swallowed by the sudden company of three loud, charming upperclassmen—Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon. They surrounded him like a circle of warm sunlight, all brightness and noise, voices tumbling over each other in playful chatter.

“Did you watch the game?” Jake beamed, eyes crinkling. “Heeseung nearly broke his own ankle—was the most dramatic thing I’ve seen.”

“I swear I saw tears in his eyes when he made that dunk,” Sunghoon teased.

Jay smirked, cocking his head. “You always look like that, Riki? Like you walked out of a dream? Kinda unfair, don’t you think?”

Riki smiled, politely. His fingers curled tighter around his book.

They were kind. Friendly. Flirtatious even—but not in the way that made his heart stutter. Not in the way Heeseung did.

He hadn’t even said a word.

Heeseung stood just a few steps behind them, quiet, unreadable. Not even a glance in Riki’s direction. No smile. No nod. Nothing.

Was I just imagining all of it?

The notes, the candies, the wishes? The way I watch him… the way I hope?

The laughter around him blurred into background noise. And just as quickly as it began, the conversation dissolved. They waved goodbye, disappeared down the hall. Heeseung went with them, without a single look back.

And Riki—he stood still for a long time.

—

Later that evening

The room was dim when Sunoo came in, finding Riki curled up on the corner of Jungwon’s bed, knees hugged close to his chest, his face hidden.

“Riki?” Sunoo asked softly, approaching like someone not wanting to startle a bird. “What’s wrong?”

At first, he didn’t answer.

Then—

“I don’t think he even knows me,” Riki whispered, voice cracking.

Jungwon sat down beside him slowly, eyes wide with concern. “What happened?”

Riki looked up, and his eyes were glassy, rimmed red. “I saw him today… in the hallway. With his friends. They talked to me. They joked. Flirted even.”

Sunoo’s brows knit. “Heeseung?”

“No,” Riki said, shaking his head. “He didn’t say anything. Not a word. He didn’t even look at me. Just stood there like… I was invisible.”

Sunoo and Jungwon exchanged a glance.

“And I—I thought maybe… maybe he knew. Maybe the notes, the candy… Maybe he felt it too.”

His voice cracked again, fragile and small.

“I waited so long. I was scared. But I tried. I gave him everything I could in those notes. And he never even looked at me today. Not once.”

Sunoo wrapped his arms around him without a word, cradling Riki close.

Jungwon reached out too, resting a gentle hand on his back.

“You're not invisible, Riki,” Sunoo whispered. “He just doesn’t know what he’s missing yet.”

“I just feel stupid,” Riki mumbled. “For hoping.”

“Hope doesn’t make you stupid,” Jungwon said softly. “It makes you brave.”

But still, that night, Riki cried quietly into the collar of Sunoo’s sweater. The kind of crying that left your eyes sore and your chest empty. The kind that felt like mourning something you never really had.

And in that moment, it truly felt like unrequited love.

—

The boys were lounging in their usual hideout after practice—an old unused classroom at the end of the west wing, where no one ever really checked. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, muscle rub, and leftover fast food.

Jake tossed a basketball in the air as he leaned back on a desk. “Okay, but seriously, why were you so quiet earlier? Riki was right there, man.”

Jay smirked. “Yeah, you looked like you were carved in stone. Didn’t even say hi.”

Sunghoon chuckled. “You usually light up when girls flirt with you. But when he’s around? You go mute?”

Heeseung, who had been staring blankly out the window, finally turned toward them, his jaw tight.

“Can we not talk about this?” he muttered.

But Jake was already grinning. “Come on, just admit it. He’s got everyone wrapped around his finger and he doesn’t even try. Did you see his lips today? They looked like—”

“Stop.” Heeseung’s voice cut like ice.

Jay raised a brow. “Dude, relax. We’re just messing around.”

Sunghoon chimed in, a bit softer, “Can you blame us though? Riki doesn’t even have to say anything and people trip over themselves. His eyes are insane, like glass. And those lips? Red even without gloss—”

Heeseung’s fist slammed the desk beside him, making all three jump.

“I said stop.” His voice was low, furious, shaking with something he didn’t want to name. “Don’t talk about him like that. He’s not some—some object for you to drool over.”

The room went still.

For once, none of them had anything to say.

The silence rang louder than all their jokes.

Heeseung’s chest rose and fell, breath heavy with restraint. He felt raw, exposed, like they’d cracked something he didn’t even realize he’d been hiding.

He looked away, jaw clenched, eyes burning.

Then he stood.

Without a word, he stormed toward the door.

And as he pushed it open, he turned once more—eyes dark with something fierce and aching.

“He’s not unreal. He’s just… too good for all of us.”

Then he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him with a final, echoing bang.

—

The sun was low—casting long shadows across the school’s quiet lakeside. The water rippled gently, catching the fading gold light, and the spring wind carried the faintest scent of cherry blossoms.

Heeseung wasn’t looking for him.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

He just… walked. Escaping the weight of the words left behind in that stifling room. His fists were still clenched. His jaw, still locked.

Until he saw him.

Riki.

Sitting alone on the worn wooden bench facing the lake.

His back was small. Shoulders hunched, sweater sleeves pulled over his hands. And when Heeseung stepped closer—slowly, cautiously—he noticed his cheeks were flushed, a soft, heartbreaking pink. His eyes…

Red.

Puffy.

He’d been crying.

The sight hit Heeseung harder than any missed shot ever had.

For a moment, he just stood there, frozen.

Then—deep breath, brace yourself, Lee Heeseung.

His footsteps crunched gently on the gravel, soft but certain. Riki turned his head at the sound. Their eyes met.

Riki’s breath caught.

Heeseung’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. “Can I sit?”

Riki looked down, quickly brushing his sleeves over his eyes, nodding with a tightness in his throat.

Heeseung lowered himself onto the bench, keeping a respectful distance between them. The silence hung—delicate, almost trembling.

For a long moment, neither said anything.

The wind blew.

Birds chirped somewhere in the distance.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Heeseung said finally, his voice breaking the quiet like a tremor. “I didn’t know I could.”

Riki stared at the lake, throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“You didn’t,” he whispered, but the words weren’t strong enough to convince either of them.

Heeseung turned to him. “It’s not true, you know. That I didn’t see you.”

Riki’s fingers clutched tighter into his sleeves.

“I saw everything,” Heeseung murmured. “The notes. The candies. The way you looked at me like I was something worth waiting for.”

He paused, chest tight.

“But I was stupid. I thought… someone like you, who everyone admires, who looks like he walked out of a daydream—I thought you couldn’t be real. I thought it couldn’t be you.”

Riki finally looked at him then.

Eyes rimmed red. Beautiful. Raw.

Heeseung leaned in just a little closer, his voice like a promise.

“But it is you. Isn’t it?”

And Riki’s eyes welled up again—but this time, the tears didn’t come from heartbreak.

They came from the sheer, aching relief of being seen.

Heeseung’s fingers tightened gently around Riki’s, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“I have to confess something too,” he said, eyes searching Riki’s. “I really hoped… the person in the front row cheering for me was you.”

Riki blinked, surprised by the vulnerability in Heeseung’s tone.

“But,” Heeseung continued, a faint, rueful smile tugging at his lips, “seeing how quiet you are… how reserved…”

He shook his head softly. “I never thought you’d be the type to write notes or leave candy for someone.”

Riki’s cheeks flushed deeper, a mix of embarrassment and relief washing over him.

“He always looked like the one who’d get the notes, not give them,” Heeseung said quietly. “I thought… maybe it was someone else.”

Riki swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared… scared if I told you, you’d think it was silly.”

Heeseung smiled softly, eyes warm. “It’s not silly at all. It’s brave.”

Their fingers intertwined more firmly, the space between them narrowing, hearts quietly confessing what words only just found.

—

The golden light of the setting sun bathed the lakeside in a warm, amber glow. The world seemed to hold its breath as Heeseung and Riki sat close on the wooden bench, fingers intertwined like promises.

Heeseung’s voice was steady, filled with quiet determination.
“Riki, I’ve liked you for a long time… longer than I realized. And I’m sorry I made you feel invisible.”

Riki’s heart hammered, the shy tremble in his chest blooming into something bold, something hopeful.
“I’ve liked you too, Heeseung. Even when I thought you didn’t notice.”

Slowly, almost reverently, their faces drew closer. The air between them thickened with warmth and unspoken feelings.

Then, beneath the soft hues of the sunset sky, their lips met—gentle, tentative at first, then deepening with the promise of everything they’d kept hidden.

From a distance, Sunoo and Jungwon watched with quiet smiles. Sunoo nudged Jungwon softly, whispering,
“He finally made it.”

Jungwon nodded, eyes shining with relief.
“Yeah, Riki’s finally home.”

The two friends stood silently for a moment, proud and hopeful, witnessing the beginning of something beautiful.

—

The next morning, the school buzzed with its usual energy, but for Heeseung, everything felt different. He made his way to his locker, heart pounding with anticipation.

There, waiting quietly, was Riki—soft cheeks flushed pink, eyes bright but shy.

Without a word, Heeseung gently cupped Riki’s face and pressed a quick, tender kiss to his lips.

“Good morning,” Heeseung whispered with a warm smile.

Before either of them could say more, a sudden chorus of loud, teasing voices erupted from behind.

Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon appeared, grinning mischievously. Jake dramatically knocked Heeseung’s head with an exaggerated thud.

"What the fuck is this , Heeseung ." Sunghoon took his hand to cover his mouth dramatically , like a victorian man who got to see a woman's ankle for the first time.

“RIKI YOU BETRAYED ME , YOU LAUGHED WHEN I TOLD YOU THAT YOU'RE PRETTY , NOOOO!!!." Jake shamelessly crying in disbelief. The students gave judging look.

Jay smirked, leaning closer to Riki. “Yeah, and you too, pretty boy. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Riki’s cheeks deepened into a full blush, eyes darting between Heeseung and the trio, utterly flustered.

Heeseung just chuckled, wrapping an arm around Riki’s shoulders and smiling back at him.

“Looks like we’re going to have some fun,” Heeseung said softly.

And with that, the new day began—full of laughter, teasing, and the quiet thrill of something just beginning.

—

It was their second New Year together, a quiet evening wrapped in the soft glow of fairy lights and the gentle hum of laughter around them.

Heeseung and Riki sat close, fingers entwined like the years they had shared—each moment, every tear, every fight, every silence filled with unspoken hopes and fears.

They remembered the early days—how Riki’s timid notes had blossomed into whispered confessions, how misunderstandings once left their hearts aching, only to be healed with honest apologies and soft, lingering kisses.

“Look how far we’ve come,” Heeseung murmured, his forehead resting against Riki’s.

Riki smiled, eyes bright and full of warmth. “All the cries and fights… they were worth it, weren’t they?”

Heeseung nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from Riki’s face. “Because in the end, it’s always been about us. I will show all the notes you wrote and the signature candies you left in my locker to our children when they're here . I will tell them this is how I met your mother ."

Riki leaned in and bring Heeseung to a passionate kiss under the starry night sky.

The fireworks outside bloomed in the sky, painting their world in color.

And as they held each other close, the past’s storms only made the present’s peace feel that much sweeter.

They had found something rare—love that healed, love that stayed.

Together.

Chapter Text

Jay stood at the front of the auditorium, arms crossed, expression calm and composed—like any good student council vice president should look during orientation.

"Let's make this short," he muttered to Heeseung beside him. “Smile, speak clearly, don’t scare the freshmen.”

“I am smiling,” Heeseung replied, deadpan.

Sunghoon leaned over with a smirk. “Jay, brace yourself. I heard there’s a first-year with more confidence than Jake at a karaoke night.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “No such thing.”

And then the doors opened.

The new students filed in like ducklings. Then—him.

Riki.

Wearing his uniform just a little too fashionably, sleeves rolled up, black hair perfectly messy, lips curled into the most confident smile Jay had ever seen on a 16-year-old.

Sunoo and Jungwon flanked him like reluctant bodyguards.

“Riki. Riki, no. We are begging—” Jungwon started.

“Please just sit. Don’t talk. No charm. No pickup lines. Just—be normal,” Sunoo hissed.

“I am normal,” Riki replied innocently. “I just love love.”

Jay watched, unimpressed. Until Riki’s eyes met his.

The freshman tilted his head. Smirked.

And then he winked.

Jay blinked.

Heeseung snorted. “Oh no.”

“Who is that?” Jay muttered under his breath, suddenly very aware of the way his heart skipped. “Why is he looking at me like that?”

As the orientation started, Jay launched into his well-practiced speech.

“Welcome to Decelis. I’m Jay, your student council vice preside—”

“Your voice is hot.”

Silence.

Everyone turned.

There Riki stood, hand raised like he was answering a math problem. “Sorry. Just a general observation.”

Sunoo put his head in his hands. “Here we go.”

Jungwon looked ready to dissolve into the floor.

Jay coughed, flustered but determined to act cool. “Thank you… I think. Let’s stay focused.”

He tried to continue. Two slides later—

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, Jay-senpai?”

Jay’s eye twitched. “We’re not doing this.”

Heeseung looked like he was physically holding in laughter. Jake was filming under the table.

Riki leaned back, completely unashamed. “Just saying. If I’m going to survive high school, I need visual motivation.”

Sunoo smacked Riki’s arm. “You are not hitting on the vice president in front of the entire first year.”

“I already did,” Riki whispered back. “And I think it worked.”

Jay turned back to the projector, pretending to read his notes, ears burning red.

Heeseung leaned in. “You okay, Casanova?”

“I’m fine,” Jay muttered coolly.

“You’re blushing.”

“It’s just the lighting.”

Sunghoon grinned. “Sure, bro. The lighting on your ears.”

Jay cleared his throat. “Anyway! The rules. First years aren’t allowed to flirt with upperclassmen during orientation.”

Riki immediately raised his hand again. “How long is that rule in effect?”

Jay locked eyes with him, dead serious. “Until I recover emotionally.”

Riki smiled sweetly. “Then I’ll flirt quietly.”

Sunoo groaned. “We’ve lost control of him.”

---

Jay had survived exactly twenty-seven minutes of orientation.

Which was a personal record considering Riki—the Riki—was on his third “compliment attack.”

“I think the school’s lights are flickering,” Riki whispered just loud enough. “Or maybe it’s your smile short-circuiting the power.”

Jay clenched his jaw. “Stop talking.”

“I will,” Riki grinned, “but only if you tell me what cologne you're wearing. I want to dream about it later.”

The 1st years sitting near Riki giggled like this was stand-up comedy. One even whispered, “He did this to the PE teacher this morning.”

Another chimed in, “No, he called our chemistry lab ‘boring’ until Jay-senpai walked in. Then suddenly chemistry was his favorite subject.”

Sunoo sat behind Riki with a blank stare and the dead tone of someone who’s been through this too many times. “Riki, I’m putting you on time-out.”

“You can’t. Jay’s talking. I’m learning,” Riki said, eyes never leaving Jay’s flustered figure on stage.

Jungwon muttered, “Learning what? How to get detention in record time?”

Meanwhile, Jay’s so-called friends were having the time of their lives.

Jake leaned over the front desk like a sports commentator. “And in today’s orientation, our vice president is under siege by a dangerously charming freshman.”

Sunghoon added dramatically, “He’s folding. Look at that eye twitch. He’s crumbling like a weak cookie.”

Heeseung snorted. “Bro’s sweating like he’s the freshman.”

Jay finally snapped.

“Riki,” he said slowly, voice calm but dangerously close to begging, “can you please sit still, stop talking, and pretend to be normal for ten minutes?”

Riki tilted his head. “But if I act normal, how will you fall in love with me?”

Gasps. Laughter. A random first-year yelled, “GO KING!”

Jay looked like he was about to ascend into another plane of existence.

“I AM NOT—” he caught himself, took a deep breath, and tried again. “I am not dating you.”

“Not yet,” Riki said with a wink.

Even Sunoo laughed a little at that one.

“Okay, okay, that was smooth,” he admitted, before glaring again. “Still. Stop it.”

Jay turned around and faced the projector. “Slide 19. Library rules. Quiet at all times. Unlike certain people.”

“Unless I’m whispering sweet nothings to Jay-senpai under the table,” Riki said, holding back a grin.

Jake choked.

Heeseung fell out of his chair.

Sunghoon clapped once, very dramatically.

And Jay?

Jay rubbed his temples and muttered, “Someone please unplug him.”

---

That night, Jake made a group chat titled:
“Jay’s Flirt War Diary: Day 1”

Heeseung sent a meme of a soldier in a trench labeled “Jay.”
Sunghoon replied with:

> “Jay: trying to do his job
Riki: flirting noises
Sunoo & Jungwon: tired screams”

Jay stared at his screen, sighed deeply, and typed:

> “I hate all of you.”

Then deleted it.

And sent:

> “...he’s cute though.”

---

By the second day of orientation, most first-years were barely hanging on.

Sweat. Tears. Paper cuts from name tags. Emotional damage from being told to run laps.

But not Riki.

Riki was glowing. Literally sparkling. Like a flirty anime character on their third transformation scene.

Sunoo and Jungwon were holding him back by the hoodie like bodyguards.

“Please,” Sunoo whispered, “just one day without a line.”

“You already flirted with the nurse twice and that poor photographer guy!” Jungwon added.

Riki just smirked. “I’m spreading morale.”

---

Now: Paper Cup Tower Challenge.

Every group had to build the tallest and most stable tower using only paper cups and tape. It was a test of communication, planning, and mental endurance.

Riki’s group?

They named their tower: “Jay Park.”

Heeseung choked on his water.

Jake burst out laughing and had to squat behind a potted plant.

Sunghoon just whispered, “Incoming disaster in 3…2…”

---

“Alright, next group to present: Riki Nishimura’s team,” Jay called, clipboard in hand, voice cool and professional—until he saw the name card on the tower.

He paused.

“…Seriously?”

Riki walked forward with the confidence of a model at Paris Fashion Week.

“Yes, Vice President,” he said sweetly. “We named our tower ‘Jay Park’ because—” he turned dramatically to the crowd, arms out, “it is strong, elegant, built with precision… and extremely hard to ignore.”

Every head turned to Jay.

Jay turned red.

Sunoo audibly groaned in the corner.

Riki wasn’t done. He walked over, tapped the top of the tower lightly.

“And most importantly,” he added, flashing a devastating smile at Jay, “it holds me up—even when I try to break it.”

The gym exploded.

Some clapped. Some screamed. One girl fainted. Jake was rolling on the floor.

Jay just stood there, frozen, expression completely blank like he was buffering in real time.

“…Ten out of ten,” Heeseung declared from the judge’s panel.

Jake shouted, “THAT WAS THE BEST GROUP PRESENTATION IN HISTORY.”

Sunghoon wiped a tear. “He’s going to kill us later for laughing.”

---

During their break…

Jay approached Riki when he's alone.

“You’re insane,” he whispered harshly, cheeks still faintly pink.

Riki leaned in, smug and sparkling. “You liked it.”

“I did not.”

“You blushed.”

“I did not.”

“You’re blushing right now.” Riki scooted closer to Jay with his mischievous grin.

Jay cursed in three languages and shoved a plastic chair between them as a barrier.

Riki peeked around it. “Should we build a tower together next time? I could be your tape. I stick to you.”

Jay genuinely considered resigning from being the vice president.

--

It's a hot scorching Tuesday. The sun grilled the students' flawless skins. The blazing sun had slowed all the 1st year movement.

“Alright, you late first-years!” Jay called out, trying to keep his voice steady but tired. “Ten laps around the field, now!”

The group groaned and started jogging off, but Riki was lagging behind from the start. Sunoo and Jungwon stayed close, glancing worriedly.

“Riki, slow down! Don’t push yourself too hard!” Sunoo warned.

But Riki smiled weakly and nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

By the sixth lap, the bright sparkle in Riki’s eyes dimmed.

On the ninth lap, he stumbled.

Sunghoon, who had come out to “supervise,” caught him before he collapsed.

“He’s passed out!” Sunghoon shouted.

Chaos erupted instantly. The student council members—Jay, Jake, Heeseung, and the others—rushed over.

Jay crouched beside Riki. His face went serious.

“Is he breathing?” Jungwon asked, panic rising.

Jay checked—barely any breath.

“Everyone clear the way!” Jay barked.

He gently tilted Riki’s head back and started mouth-to-mouth rescue.

“Come on, Riki. Breathe for me.”

A few tense seconds later, Riki coughed and blinked open those big eyes.

“Am I in heaven? Because—there's an angel in front of me.”

He murmured, gaze locking onto Jay’s face, unashamedly flirting even in his dazed state.

Jay blinked, heart melting, before the entire group burst out laughing.

“Classic Riki,” Jake chuckled.

“He really knows how to make an entrance,” Heeseung said.

Sunghoon grinned. “And an exit.”

Jay groaned, covering his face. “That’s it. I’ve fallen too hard for this idiot.”

Riki grinned mischievously. “Good. I was hoping you would.”

Sunoo and Jungwon just shook their heads, knowing this was only the beginning.

---

Jay sat stiffly beside the infirmary bed, elbows on his knees, hands clenched together.

Riki lay on the bed with an IV in his arm and an innocent smile on his face, like he hadn’t just caused a school-wide panic thirty minutes ago.

“I told you I’m fine,” Riki said, voice light but soft with sleep. “You didn’t have to carry me bridal-style through the whole field, Jay-senpai.”

Jay groaned into his hands. “You weren’t breathing, Riki. I thought you—”

“I know,” Riki said, a little quieter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jay looked up. His eyes searched Riki’s face, more serious now. “You scared me a lot.”

Riki blinked. His playful smile softened into something more real.

Jay sighed. “You always play around. With the flirting, the lines, the… everything. And I never know when you’re joking.”

“I don’t joke about how I feel about you.”

Jay stared.

“I really like you,” Riki continued, voice gentle. “I flirt because that’s how I am, but you’re the only one I wait for a reaction from. You're the only one that makes me nervous after I say something stupid.”

Jay blinked. “You? Nervous?”

Riki gave a lopsided smile. “Terrified. Every time I flirt with you, I’m hoping today’s the day you’ll finally say you like me too.”

Jay opened his mouth. Closed it.

Riki tilted his head. “No cheesy line today. Just honesty. I like you, Jay.”

Jay swallowed. “You really do?”

“I really do.”

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, red ears and all. “I thought I was the one falling the whole time. But you... you really had me since the moment you called me hot during orientation.”

“Oh?” Riki’s voice turned low and teasing again. “So I do make your knees weak, Vice President Jay?”

Jay looked down at his lap, flustered. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Riki sat up slightly, eyes sparkling. “So does this mean you’re officially mine?”

Jay rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. “Yeah. I’m yours.”

Riki grinned so wide it could’ve powered the school. “Finally.”

Jay leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Now promise me you’ll stop passing out just to get mouth-to-mouth.”

“No promises,” Riki whispered. “But if I do, it better be you again.”

Jay groaned. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you’re mine.”

Jay chuckled as he took Riki’s hand in his. “Yeah. I’m yours.”

It started with whispers.

Then photos of them.

Then a text.

Then an actual announcement over the PA system because Jake got his hands on it.

“This is not a drill!” Jake’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Vice President Jay has a boyfriend. Repeat, Jay-senpai has fallen.”

Every single student in the cafeteria froze.

Sunghoon stood dramatically on top of a chair holding up his phone like a scroll. “Our beloved, serious, emotionally distant, academically unbeatable Vice President has been defeated... by a flirty menace in a school cardigan.”

Cue gasps.

Cue screams.

Cue five freshmen fainting.

And cue Riki entering the cafeteria like he owned the school.

He strutted in with his usual smirk, Sunoo and Jungwon dragging their trays behind him like exhausted bodyguards. Students parted like the Red Sea, whispering furiously.

“That’s him!”
“The one who called Jay-senpai a ‘walking heart attack’ during the fire drill.”
“He winked at the calculus teacher and got extra credit.”
“HE FLIRTED WITH MY DAD ON PARENTS’ NIGHT—”

Jay walked in three steps behind him, quiet, composed... and extremely red in the ears.

“Hi, Jay,” a third-year girl said, fluttering her lashes.

Before Jay could respond, Riki leaned over and whispered to the girl, “Careful. He’s taken. But I’m flattered you have good taste.”

The cafeteria ERUPTED.

Jay sighed. “Riki.”

“What?” Riki blinked innocently. “I’m being loyal and honest.”

“By flirting with the person saying hi to me?”

“Exactly! I’m keeping the competition busy.”

Jake filmed the whole thing, nearly choking from laughter. “This is gold.”

Heeseung added dramatically, “This is better than cable TV.”

Sunghoon yelled, “Someone get a mic—he’s about to flirt with the lunch lady.”

Sure enough, Riki turned to the lunch lady and said, “Ms. Park, I must say—no meal tastes as good as your cooking, except maybe the time Jay fed me soup in the infirmary.”

Jay dropped his tray.

Sunoo dropped his soul.

Jungwon whispered, “Why is he like this.”

Riki turned back to Jay, sliding into the seat beside him like he hadn't just broken ten hearts in the room. “You okay, baby?”

Jay stared at him for three seconds.

Then sighed, leaned forward, and kissed Riki right on the cheek.

The cafeteria exploded.

“I KNEW IT!”
“THE FLIRT WON!”
“THE VP IS GONEEEE—”

Riki blinked, stunned. “What was that for?”

Jay smirked for the first time all day. “Just keeping you quiet for once.”

“Oh, I love this new version of you,” Riki grinned, practically glowing.

“Yeah, well,” Jay muttered under his breath, “I love you.”

Riki’s mouth fell open.

Jake’s phone dropped.

Heeseung gasped.

Sunghoon screamed.

And somewhere, a senior cried, “I can’t believe I just lost to the kid who called my essay ‘emotionally constipated.’”

Jay just sipped his drink, now officially resigned to being the boyfriend of Decelis Academy’s most shameless flirt.

And honestly?

He didn’t mind it at all.

---

Jay was trying to study.

Key word: trying.

Because right as he opened his notes, his phone buzzed with a message.

From: Jake

> CODE FLIRT RED: YOUR BOYFRIEND JUST CALLED THE LIBRARIAN “A LIVING WORK OF ART.”

Jay closed his eyes.

Two seconds later, another buzz.

From: Heeseung

> He told a janitor “You sweep the floor but you just swept me off my feet.”

Buzz.

From: Sunghoon

> Jay. He just flirted with a poster of Leonardo DiCaprio in the hallway. I don’t know what to tell you anymore.

Jay groaned and threw his phone across the bed.

---

Meanwhile...

Sunoo sat in the music room, head in his hands. “He’s out of control.”

“I told you,” Jungwon muttered. “You were the one who said ‘He’ll calm down once he’s dating Jay.’ LIAR.”

Outside the window, Riki was winking at the entire second-year dance team.

Sunoo stood up, shaking. “We raised a monster.”

---

Elsewhere, in the cafeteria...

Jake crouched behind a trash can, whispering into a walkie-talkie.

“He’s on the move. I repeat, the Flirt Missile has locked eyes on the chemistry TA. This is not a drill.”

Heeseung answered from the vending machine. “I’ve got a visual. He just told her: ‘Your smile is more reactive than potassium in water.’ Jay’s gonna cry.”

Sunghoon was in the salad bar with binoculars. “Why is he like this?”

Jake: “Jay gave him affection. Now he’s unstoppable.”

---

Finally, at the student council office...

Jay was staring blankly at the wall.

Riki skipped in, spinning, absolutely glowing.

“Hi, my favorite Vice President who makes my heart skip like a broken Spotify track!”

Jay didn’t blink. “Who’d you flirt with today?”

“Oh, nobody serious,” Riki grinned. “Just three teachers, two club captains, the nurse, and a potted plant named Fernanda.”

Jay opened his mouth. Closed it. Then sighed. “...Riki.”

“What?” Riki blinked innocently. “I’m yours. I just like spreading joy!”

“Joy?” Jay asked, deadpan.

“Yes. And also mild cardiac episodes to those who can’t handle this face.”

Jay pinched the bridge of his nose. “One day, someone’s going to faint, and it’s not going to be from your weak stamina—it’s gonna be a side effect of secondhand embarrassment.”

Jake burst through the door holding up his phone. “EXHIBIT A: This man just told the music teacher ‘If I were a note, I’d want to be sharp so you’d remember me.’”

Jay groaned.

Heeseung: “Jay. You need to leash him.”

Sunghoon: “Or sedate him. Pick one.”

Riki just leaned on Jay’s shoulder, batting his lashes. “Don’t be jealous, baby. You're the only one who gets a real kiss.”

Jay turned red instantly.

Riki smirked.

And outside the room, another first-year fainted from hearing that line.
Absolutely. Get ready for another disaster-class in Flirt Crimes, starring Riki and his newest victim: the poetic, mysterious new literature teacher. Of course, the moment it happens, Jay’s three loyal reporter knights are on the move.

---

The new literature teacher was young, wore round glasses, had gentle eyes, and spoke in haikus during roll call.

So of course, Riki zeroed in on him like a predator who spotted an unclaimed soul.

Mr. Han barely finished introducing himself when Riki raised his hand.

“Yes, uh… Riki, is it?” the teacher smiled softly.

Riki tilted his head, lashes fluttering. “You must be a poem yourself, sir.”

The class went silent.

Mr. Han blinked. “...Pardon?”

Riki smiled sweetly. “Because you’ve got me searching for meaning in every word you say.”

Someone gasped.

Someone else dropped their pencil.

And in the back corner, Jake immediately whipped out his phone.

From: Jake

> EMERGENCY. YOUR BOYFRIEND IS FLIRTING WITH THE NEW POETRY TEACHER. I REPEAT: THE VERSE MAN IS UNDER ATTACK.

From: Heeseung

> He just said “I’d be your comma if it meant I could pause your life and stay with you.” JAY. COME GET YOUR BOY.

From: Sunghoon

> I heard him whisper “are you a metaphor? Because I can't stop interpreting you.” I’m LEAVING THE PLANET.

---

Student Council Office – Two Minutes Later

Jay stood up so fast his chair fell backwards.

“Riki.”

He power-walked down the hall with his eyes blazing, muttering, “I leave him alone for one class period—”

---

Back in Class...

Riki had just leaned on Mr. Han’s desk, chin in his palm.

“You know, I used to hate literature. But you make every word feel like a kiss on paper.”

Mr. Han stuttered. “R-Riki, that’s very—uh—thank you, but maybe—”

Just then, the door slammed open.

Jay stood there, breathing heavily, tie slightly askew, blazer half-on. “Mr. Han,” he said calmly, “could I borrow Riki for a disciplinary issue?”

The entire class oooooooh’d.

Riki, without missing a beat, stood up and smiled like sunshine. “Of course, baby. You know I’m always guilty when it comes to you.”

Jay dragged him out by the wrist.

---

Outside the class...

Jay pinned him against the wall, narrowing his eyes. “A poet, Riki?”

Riki grinned. “He was delicate. I like watching delicate people break under pressure.”

Jay’s jaw clenched. “You’re impossible.”

“Am I?” Riki purred, standing on tiptoes. “Maybe I’m just waiting for my real punishment.”

Jay looked skyward for strength.

Behind them, Jake snapped a photo.

“BREAKING: JAY ARRESTS FLIRT CRIMINAL AGAIN.”

Heeseung: “I’m making a scrapbook at this point.”

Sunghoon: “Chapter 17: ‘The Haiku That Nearly Got Riki Expelled.’”

---

Day by day , Jay's patience off of his limit. Riki literally flirted with any human he found interesting and when Jay asked why he said"It's for motivation , I only like you anyway." And that was kinda—pissed Jay off.

Jay slammed the door behind them.

Riki jumped slightly, blinking up with his signature faux-innocent look. “Something wrong, Jay-senpai?”

Jay turned slowly, jaw clenched. “You told the headmaster she had ‘queen energy.’”

“She does,” Riki shrugged, completely unrepentant. “And I told the cafeteria guy he had ‘biceps that could crush my loneliness.’ It’s called appreciation.”

Jay walked forward, eyes sharp.

Riki smirked but took a step back. “Oh? Punishing me now?”

Jay pressed him against the wall in one swift motion, leaning in close. “You think this is funny?”

“I think you’re very attractive when you’re mad,” Riki said, voice light—but his breath hitched.

Jay didn’t answer.

He just kissed him.

Not soft. Not gentle.

Devastating.

Riki made a noise in his throat, hands gripping Jay’s blazer as his knees went slightly weak. Jay’s hand slid behind his neck, the other pinning his hip. He kissed him again—and again—and when Riki gasped, Jay took his breath right with him.

By the time Jay pulled away, Riki was flushed, lips swollen, and dazed out of his mind.

“Still think this is a game?” Jay asked, voice low.

Riki blinked, dazed. “...yes.”

Jay narrowed his eyes.

Riki giggled breathlessly, clinging to his shirt. “Because if flirting gets me that, then I’m about to start complimenting trees.”

Jay stared. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you,” Riki whispered, lips brushing his jaw, “are a very, very dangerous kisser.”

Jay groaned, resting his forehead against Riki’s. “You’re literally asking for trouble.”

Riki tilted his head. “Then be the punishment, baby.”

Jay’s knees almost gave out.

---

Outside the door...

Jake (pressing his ear to the door): “...I think we should leave. I’m hearing things I’m not holy enough for.”

Heeseung: “Same. I’m cleansing my soul.”

Sunghoon: “Wait, hold up. Did he just say—”

Jake: “YUP. WE’RE OUT.”

Chapter Text

-------

Riki groaned, pressing a hand to his cheek as a sharp pulse echoed through his jaw. His eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the early morning light leaking through the pale curtains. Something felt wrong—not just the throbbing ache in his molar, but…

He turned his head.

The bed was empty beside him. Cold.

“…Jungwon?” he mumbled, though it came out more like a whimper, the pain making his voice tight. He pushed himself up, wincing as the movement sent another jolt through his tooth.

Riki’s cheeks puffed up in frustration. Where is he? he thought miserably, grabbing his phone. No texts. No calls. He squinted at the time. 6:42 AM. Way too early for Jungwon to just vanish.

He stumbled out of bed, pulling on his hoodie over his pajamas, one hand still cupping his cheek like a sad chipmunk. He shuffled around the apartment—empty bathroom, dark living room, no shoes by the door. His stomach dropped.

Did Jungwon leave him? Did they fight last night? He tried to remember—no, they were fine. They fell asleep cuddling after watching some weird documentary about jellyfish. Jungwon kissed his forehead. Said, “Sleep tight, baby.” Everything was fine.

Then where the hell was he?

Riki sat on the couch, hugging a duck plushie to his chest, lower lip wobbling. His mouth really hurt now, and the empty silence of the apartment only made everything worse.

Click.

The door opened.

“Riki?” Jungwon’s soft voice called out.

Riki’s head snapped up, eyes wide, still puffing his cheek in pain. Jungwon stepped in, holding a small paper bag and a takeaway cup. His smile dropped the moment he saw Riki’s expression.

“Oh no. Baby, what’s wrong?”

“You left me,” Riki mumbled dramatically, voice muffled by the plushie.

“I went to get you this,” Jungwon said, quickly walking over and setting the bag on the table. He knelt in front of Riki, gently brushing hair out of his eyes. “You were moaning in your sleep and holding your cheek. I figured you were in pain, so I ran out to get some emergency meds and soft bread.”

Riki blinked. “You did?”

“Of course I did. You looked so pitiful. My poor chipmunk.” Jungwon kissed his forehead. “Let me see?”

Riki opened his mouth slightly, still pouting. Jungwon winced in sympathy. “Aw, baby… you’re getting a wisdom tooth. I can feel the swelling.”

“Hurts,” Riki mumbled.

“I know.” Jungwon carefully opened the bag. “Here’s pain reliever, and I got you a warm vanilla oat milk. No straw. No chewing. Just soft sips.”

Riki stared at him like he’d just been given the moon.

“…You’re not mad at me?”

“For what?” Jungwon blinked.

“I thought you left ‘cause I was annoying.”

Jungwon set everything down and cupped Riki’s face with both hands. “Riki. I would never leave you just because you’re in pain. You being grumpy and swollen makes me want to take care of you even more.”

Riki sniffled, then climbed into Jungwon’s lap, nuzzling his shoulder. “Love you.”

“I love you more,” Jungwon whispered, arms wrapping around him tightly.

“…Still hurts.”

“I’ll stay with you all day. We’ll go to the dentist later. Right now, we’re gonna watch cartoons and you’ll drink your oat milk like a spoiled prince.”

Riki smiled despite himself. Even with a sore mouth and puffy cheeks, Jungwon always made things better.

---

Riki was curled up under a fuzzy blanket on the couch, nestled deep into Jungwon’s side, sipping warm vanilla oat milk like it was liquid gold. His cheek was still puffed, red from being rubbed all morning, and he hadn’t stopped whining since the second sip.

“Hurts,” Riki mumbled for the fiftieth time.

“I know, baby,” Jungwon whispered, carding his fingers through Riki’s messy hair. “You’re so strong, though. I’m proud of you.”

Just then, the door swung open.

“We’re home!” Jake’s voice echoed through the apartment. “Guess who brought extra pastries for—”

Jake paused in the doorway. Jay, Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Sunoo filed in behind him one by one. Their eyes fell on the pitiful sight on the couch.

“…Oh my god,” Sunghoon said, wide-eyed.

“Is he crying?” Sunoo asked, inching forward.

Riki sniffled, face still buried in Jungwon’s chest.

“Hyungggg, it hurts,” Riki wailed dramatically, voice wobbling with exaggerated grief. “Jungwon, tell them I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying,” Jungwon chuckled softly. “You’re just teething.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Riki hissed, glaring at him with big watery eyes.

“Oh my god,” Heeseung said, crouching down in front of them. “You look like a little duck.”

“He does,” Jake agreed instantly, grinning. “Like one of those baby ducks with the round face. Or a chipmunk who forgot how to store snacks.”

“Hey!” Riki tried to swat at him but missed by a mile. “Stop making fun of me!”

“But it’s cute!” Sunoo giggled, setting down his drink and poking Riki’s cheek very lightly. “Ow, is this the one that hurts?”

“YES!” Riki shrieked, clutching his face and wailing even harder. “You poked my cursed tooth!”

“Sunoo hyung ,” Jungwon scolded gently, pulling Riki back to safety. “No touching the chipmunk duck while he’s injured.”

Sunoo giggled harder and flopped beside them. “He’s so dramatic.”

“I’m in pain,” Riki sobbed, wrapping himself in the blanket like a sad burrito. “My life is suffering. Why must I endure such cruel fate?”

Jay finally walked over, snatching a croissant from the bag and sitting cross-legged. “You sound like a Shakespearean actor who just stubbed his toe.”

Jake nodded solemnly. “Let the boy grieve. He’s losing a tooth and his dignity.”

“Both were already loose,” Riki snapped, pouting harder.

Jungwon kissed the top of his head. “Okay, that’s it. No more bullying the baby. Come on, Riki, let’s go lie down in the room and listen to whale sounds or something.”

“I want you to carry me,” Riki mumbled with a pout.

“You’re literally taller than me.”

Riki looked up, eyes sparkling dramatically with tears. “But I’m your baby.”

Jungwon sighed, smiling with all the love in the world. “Fine. Come here, my suffering little duck.”

As Jungwon struggled to piggyback Riki to the bedroom like an injured prince, the rest of the members watched them go in stunned silence.

“…He really has Jungwon wrapped around his toothless finger,” Sunghoon muttered.

“I want a boyfriend like that,” Sunoo whispered wistfully.

Jake nudged Jay. “Should we all pretend to be in pain too?”

Jay gave him a deadpan look. “If you pretend to be teething, I will punch your real teeth out.”

---

“Jungwon,” Riki whispered as they pulled into the parking lot, wide eyes glued to the building ahead. “It smells like betrayal.”

“It’s a dentist’s office,” Jungwon replied gently, helping him unbuckle. “It smells like disinfectant and mint.”

Heeseung popped his head between the front seats from where he’d been humming along to the radio. “It also smells like your doom.”

“Hyung!” Riki snapped.

“Kidding,” Heeseung grinned. “Maybe.”

Jungwon shot him a glare and opened the car door. “Riki, you’ll be fine. I’m right here. Heeseung hyung’s here. You’re not alone.”

“I know,” Riki muttered, dragging his feet with the tragic energy of a Victorian boy being marched to the guillotine. “But what if they rip my face open?”

“They’re not going to rip anything,” Jungwon reassured him. “They’ll probably just take an X-ray and give you meds.”

“…And what if they see something evil in the X-ray?” Riki clutched Jungwon’s arm. “Like a demon. Or that popcorn kernel from last year. I knew it never left.”

Heeseung laughed so hard he had to lean against the car.

---

The waiting room was quiet, with calming piano music and a fish tank bubbling softly. Riki sat squished between Jungwon and Heeseung, still wrapped in his hoodie like a terrified little ghost.

Every time someone in a white coat walked by, he flinched.

“You okay, baby?” Jungwon whispered, stroking his thigh gently.

“I don’t like this,” Riki replied miserably.

“Here,” Heeseung said, pulling out his phone. “Let’s distract you. I downloaded a game where you throw bread at birds. Wanna try?”

“…Okay,” Riki sniffled.

For ten whole minutes, the trio sat hunched over the phone like an emergency council of chaos, Riki furiously yeeting sourdough slices at cartoon pigeons.

“Nishimura Riki?” a nurse called from the doorway.

Riki froze mid-baguette-throw. His lip trembled.

“Come on,” Jungwon said, standing and reaching for his hand. “We’ll be right there with you.”

Riki clung to Jungwon like a vine. “If I die, delete my drafts.”

Heeseung snorted behind them. “If you die, I’m stealing your hoodie collection.”

“You’re evil,” Riki hissed.

---

The dentist was a sweet older lady with a warm smile and a pink clipboard.

“Hello, Riki,” she said. “Looks like we have a puffy little warrior today.”

Riki blinked at her. “Do you have magic?”

She smiled. “We’ll see what we can do. Jungwon ssi and Heeseung ssi can stay, if that helps.”

They sat in the corner while Riki climbed into the chair like a sacrificial lamb. He held Jungwon’s hand the entire time—even during the X-ray, where he tried to chew the machine out of sheer anxiety.

“Ah, there it is,” the dentist said after the scan. “Your bottom right wisdom tooth is coming in. It’s impacted and pressing on the molar next to it. That’s the pain.”

“Can we kill it?” Riki asked, eyes wide.

“Eventually,” she chuckled. “For now, I’ll prescribe a painkiller and anti-inflammatory. We’ll book a simple removal surgery, but it won’t be today.”

Riki exhaled like he just won a war. “So I’m not dying?”

“Nope. You’re teething.”

“…I hate that word.”

---

Back in the car, Riki leaned into Jungwon’s side and sighed. “I was brave.”

“You were so brave,” Jungwon said, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Even when I asked if I could bring the X-ray home to frame it,” Riki added.

“Especially then,” Heeseung grinned, starting the engine. “Your future grandkids need to see that legendary wisdom tooth.”

Riki hummed. “Thanks for coming with me. Both of you.”

Jungwon intertwined their fingers. “Always.”

Heeseung raised a brow in the mirror. “You owe me a sandwich for emotional labor.”

“You laughed when I said I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

“And it was hilarious,” Heeseung deadpanned.

Riki rolled his eyes—but smiled, cheek still sore but heart full.

---

Riki was lying on the couch with three blankets on top of him, a cold compress on his cheek, and a very large duck plush tucked under his arm like it was a life raft in the sea of the pain killer.

“I can’t feel my tongue,” he whispered, wide-eyed. “Did they take it? Jungwon… did I sign away my tongue rights?”

“No, baby,” Jungwon said softly, spooning warm soup into a bowl beside him. “You’re just numb. That’s the meds.”

“I think I’m floating.”

“You’re lying flat on the couch.”

“Then why do the lights feel smug?”

Jungwon laughed quietly. Heeseung, from the kitchen, nearly choked on his juice. “Lights feel smug, oh my God, I’m writing that down.”

“Don’t laugh at him,” Jungwon scolded, setting the soup aside and kneeling next to Riki, brushing hair from his forehead. “He’s high and helpless.”

“I’m in danger,” Riki mumbled, holding out a hand. “Kiss me before I forget who you are.”

Jungwon leaned in and kissed his forehead gently. “I’ll kiss you every five minutes until you remember everything—including your home address and your favorite type of ramen.”

Riki looked up at him with the most dramatic, glassy eyes. “Jungwon…”

“Yes, love?”

“If I die—”

“You won’t.”

“—don’t let Sunoo touch Bisco. He’ll abuse the poor puppy.”

“I heard that!” Sunoo yelled from the hallway.

Heeseung wandered in with a phone camera already recording. “Okay, say that again, I’m making a compilation. Riki: The Wisdom Tooth Files.”

“Noooo,” Riki whined, burying his face in Jungwon’s lap. “I’m weak. I’m vulnerable. I’m puffy.”

“You’re adorable,” Jungwon whispered, smiling down at him.

“I’m a tragedy,” Riki sniffled. “My mouth is a crime scene.”

“Do you want soup?”

“I want you to spoon-feed me like a baby.”

Jungwon chuckled, lifting the bowl and blowing gently on the spoon. “Here you go, my baby .”

Riki opened his mouth and immediately spilled half the spoonful onto his chin. “Mmph. That tasted like… warm clouds.”

“It’s just pumpkin soup,” Jungwon said.

“Pumpkin is underrated,” Riki declared, dazed.

Sunghoon popped his head in. “He’s still high?”

“He just said the ceiling light is judging him.”

“It is!” Riki shouted. “Look at it! It’s smug!”

Jake came over too, biting his lip to keep from laughing. “We should bottle this energy. Call it ‘Maknae Under the Influence.’”

“Nooo, don’t exploit me!” Riki wailed, grabbing Jungwon’s hoodie like a hostage. “Tell them this is not consent!”

“Shh, baby, you’re okay,” Jungwon cooed, kissing his head again and wiping his chin. “You’re safe. You’re warm. You’re loved.”

“I’m warm…” Riki mumbled, already drifting off. “…and full of pumpkin…”

“Is he asleep?” Heeseung whispered.

Jungwon nodded. “I think so.”

Riki’s eyes cracked open one more time.

“…If I die tonight, tell my fans the duck plushies were never just duck plushies.”

Jungwon smiled so fondly his whole face softened. “I’ll tell them.”

Heeseung whispered, “What does that even mean?”

---

It's Wednesday , two days after the dramatic maknae's teeth appoinment.The living room was quiet—too quiet.

Jake glanced at Heeseung, who was crouched behind the couch with his phone ready to film. “You think he’s really still dizzy?”

“Dude,” Heeseung whispered, “he just asked Sunoo to ‘carry him to the toilet like a fragile heir.’”

“Okay, but what if he is dizzy?” Jake frowned.

Right then, Riki entered, slow and staggering, one hand pressed to his temple and the other clutching the duck plush like it was a holy relic.

“I am… weak,” he whispered. “But brave.”

Sunoo, trying very hard not to laugh, stood with crossed arms. “Didn’t you eat two servings of soup and half a croissant fifteen minutes ago?”

“Shh,” Riki waved him off dramatically, then leaned against the wall like a heroine in a historical drama. “My vision is… blurring. I need warmth. I need affection. I need Jungwon.”

As if on cue, Jungwon entered with a soft towel and a juice box. “Here, love. You dropped this earlier.”

Riki looked at him with glassy eyes. “I dropped a part of myself when you left me.”

“Okay, Romeo,” Heeseung said, voice shaking with laughter. “We get it.”

“No, you don’t!” Riki wailed, collapsing gently onto the couch. “None of you understand my suffering! My cheek feels like it's been inflated with sadness!”

Jake squatted in front of him, genuinely concerned now. “Riki, you sure you're not overdoing it?”

Riki blinked at him. “If acting pathetic means I get cuddled by Jungwon for the next five hours, then yes. I'm absolutely overdoing it.”

Jake choked. Sunoo turned away. Heeseung dropped his phone in laughter.

“Baby,” Jungwon said, voice warm and helplessly fond, “come here.”

Riki immediately climbed into his lap like a smug little cat, tucking his head into Jungwon’s neck. “My safe place…”

“You’re seriously going to let him get away with this?” Sunghoon asked, entering the room with popcorn.

“Yes,” Jungwon said without hesitation, running his fingers through Riki’s hair. “He’s in pain. Emotional pain. Also possibly lying. But it’s still cute.”

“I’m not lying,” Riki mumbled into his hoodie. “I’m exaggerating. There’s a difference.”

Heeseung was now filming again, whispering into his phone mic. “Day two of the drama saga. He’s milking it. He’s manipulating. He’s munching on Jungwon’s affection like it’s pudding. And I—respect it.”

“Good,” Riki said without lifting his head. “Keep recording. Let the world know how soft my boyfriend is.”

“You’re impossible,” Sunoo muttered.

“I’m the baby,” Riki corrected.

---

Later that night…

Jungwon: “Your cheek okay now?”

Riki: “Still hurts.”

Jungwon: “Want me to kiss it better?”

Riki: “Always.”

Jungwon kissed him.

Riki, softly: “I might need round two. For… recovery.”

---

Day Three of Riki’s Reign as the Dramatic Maknae.

Heeseung, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jake, and Jay had had enough.
Jungwon? Still helplessly whipped.

“He’s using ‘pain’ as an excuse to boss us around,” Sunoo hissed, arms crossed. “He made me fluff his pillow and then said I did it with bad energy.”

“He said my hugs weren’t warm enough,” Jake muttered.

“He made me redo the soup because the first one wasn’t emotionally comforting,” Jay added.

“He asked me to sing him to sleep in falsetto,” Sunghoon sighed. “I don’t have a falsetto.”

Heeseung clapped his hands once. “Okay. Intervention time.”

---

Operation Maknae Intervention: Begin.

Riki was lounging on the couch, eye mask on, duck plush in hand, and a knitted scarf wrapped around his head like he was recovering from a royal exile. Jungwon sat nearby massaging his feet. Yes. Feet.

The hyungs lined up in front of them with deadly serious expressions.

“Riki,” Heeseung began like a lawyer in court, “we’re here because we love you.”

Riki peeked under his eye mask. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Sunoo snapped, pointing a very judgmental finger. “You’ve been abusing your drama rights.”

“Emotionally manipulating,” added Sunghoon.

“Pretending to be dizzy for kisses,” Jake said.

“Flirting your way into full-body massages and back rubs!” Jay yelled.

“He’s my boyfriend!” Riki whined, sitting up and clinging to Jungwon’s arm. “This is a hate crime.”

“This is an intervention,” Heeseung corrected. “Starting today, no more fake groaning. No more guilt-tripping with puffy cheeks.”

“They’re not fake! My cheeks are tragically real!”

“We’re putting our foot down,” Jay declared. “We love you, but this ends now.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Riki’s lower lip wobbled. He blinked slowly. Tilted his head. Whimpered, “But… I was gonna ask for cuddles…”

Jungwon immediately pulled him closer. “Cuddles are allowed. Intervention canceled.”

“WHAT—” the hyungs exploded.

“NO—”

“JUNGWON YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE WITH US—”

“He looked sad!” Jungwon defended. “He is still healing!”

Riki slowly turned his head, made direct eye contact with the hyungs…

…and winked.

“HE JUST WINKED—” Sunoo screeched.

Jake collapsed to the floor. “We lost. We lost.”

Heeseung raised both hands in surrender. “I’m not fighting against love this powerful. This is Romeo and Juliet. But with soup.”

---

Later that night…

Jungwon tucked Riki into bed with his duck plushie, kissed his forehead, and whispered, “You were terrible today.”

“I was iconic today,” Riki corrected.

Jungwon chuckled. “Still in pain?”

Riki nuzzled closer, eyes half-lidded. “Only when you’re not holding me.”

“Liar.”

“Your problem.”

Jungwon smiled, pulled him close, and let him win—just like always.

Chapter Text

The room was dim, the soft glow of the evening sun slipping through the curtains. Jake sat silently on the edge of the bed, his gaze distant as he watched Riki move around, humming softly, unaware of the storm brewing inside him.

They’d been together for years—years filled with laughter, quiet moments, and shared dreams. But lately, something had shifted. The warmth between them felt colder, thinner, like a fragile thread stretched too tight.

Riki paused and glanced at Jake, sensing the tension. “Is everything okay?”

Jake swallowed hard, the words trapped inside twisting like a knot. He wanted to hold on to what they had, but the truth was gnawing at him relentlessly.

After a long breath, Jake finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “Riki… there’s something I have to tell you.”

Riki’s smile faltered. “What is it?”

Jake’s eyes met his, raw and uncertain. “I’m… bored. And I think… I’m falling out of love.”

---

Riki’s heart dropped, the words hitting him like a cold wave. “Bored? Falling out of love?” His voice cracked, disbelief mixing with pain. “After everything , Jakey … after all these years?”

Jake looked away, guilt heavy in his eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I tried to fight it, to feel the way I used to. But it’s like… the spark just isn’t there anymore. I’m sorry, Riki.”

Riki sat down beside him, voice trembling. “Why didn’t you say anything before? Were you just pretending all this time?”

Jake’s hands clenched into fists. “I was scared. Scared of hurting you, scared of losing you. But lying doesn’t make it better. I owe you the truth.”

Riki swallowed the lump in his throat. “What happens now?”

Jake reached out, hesitating before gently brushing Riki’s hair back. “I don’t know yet. Maybe we need time. Maybe we need space. But I can’t keep living a lie.”

For a long moment, they sat there—two people tangled in love and loss, unsure of what the next chapter held.

---

Riki’s eyes shimmered, but instead of tears, a soft smile curved his lips. He reached for Jake’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I see. Thank you for being honest.”

Jake blinked, surprised by the calm in Riki’s voice.

Riki’s smile deepened, filled with quiet strength and kindness. “I’ve known, somehow… for a while now. But I wanted to hold onto what we had, at least a little longer.”

He paused, his gaze steady. “Give me one week. Just seven days to spend with you—no regrets, no pain. Then, when that time is up, we’ll say goodbye. With grace.”

Jake's breath hitched. “Thank you for understanding me—Riki.”

Riki's heart shattered , no more of those "love" or "honey" either "baby" , it was just cold and distant 'RIKI'.

Riki squeezed his hand again, warmth and softness in every movement. “Years together deserve that much, don’t they?”

For now, the heaviness in the room softened — a fragile peace between two hearts preparing to let go.

---

COUNTDOWN DAY-7

The evening air was thick with unspoken feelings as Riki and Jake sat quietly together, the weight of the approaching farewell pressing down on them both.

Before going to bed—they were still sleeping on the same bed but their night now was cold , lonely—like he's sleeping by himself. Riki approached Jake who's already tucked under blanket with his Airbook.

Riki’s voice was soft, almost shy. “Jake… can you kiss me goodnight tonight?”

Jake’s eyes flickered with surprise, then softened with tenderness. “Of course, Riki.”

That night, Jake’s lips brushed gently against Riki’s forehead—a kiss full of unspoken memories and bittersweet promises.

Riki felt his tears were forming , there were no goodnight or i love you—like before.

The next morning, as dawn light spilled through the window, Riki looked up at Jake with a small, hopeful smile. “And… can you kiss me good morning tomorrow?”

Jake smiled, nodding. “I will.”

They both knew this was their last week—every small moment now felt precious, a final gift before everything changed.

Riki’s smile never faltered. It was gentle, accepting—the kind of grace that only someone truly kind and brave could hold, even in heartbreak.

For Riki, those small kisses weren’t just goodnight or good morning. They were quiet goodbyes, a soft closing of a chapter that neither of them wanted to write but both knew had come.

Jake looked away, guilt and helplessness clouding his features, while Riki’s calm acceptance filled the room with a bittersweet peace.

Here’s a longer, deeper Day 6 scene where Riki gently asks Jake for a hug before Jake leaves for the office, full of quiet emotion and unspoken longing:

---

COUNTDOWN DAY-6

The morning light spilled softly through the curtains, casting a pale glow over the room. The quiet hum of the city waking up outside was a distant murmur, but inside, the stillness was heavy—thick with things left unsaid.

Jake stood by the door, dressed for the office, his bag slung over one shoulder. His movements were automatic, as if he was trying to escape the weight pressing down on his chest. Riki watched him quietly from the bed, the soft rise and fall of his chest steady but calm.

For a long moment, neither spoke. Then, with the gentlest voice—so soft it almost felt like a secret—Riki called out, “Jake…”

Jake paused, his hand resting on the doorknob, eyes turning toward him.

Riki’s expression was serene but laced with a vulnerability that made his heart feel fragile. “Before you go… can you hug me?”

There was no demand, no plea—just a quiet request, wrapped in all the years of love and the sorrow of what was coming.

Jake hesitated, the walls he’d built around himself beginning to crack. Without a word, he crossed the room and pulled Riki into a careful embrace.

The hug was tentative at first, like two fragile things trying not to break. Then it deepened, arms tightening as if trying to hold onto something slipping away. Jake’s cheek rested against Riki’s temple, and though he said nothing, his silence was filled with all the words he couldn’t find.

Riki melted into the hug, his fingers tracing small circles on Jake’s back—soft, slow, as if memorizing the feel of him, imprinting this last warmth into his soul.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze—their breaths mingling, hearts beating in quiet rhythm. The world outside continued on, but in this small space, nothing else existed but them.

When Jake finally pulled away, his eyes held a storm of regret and unspoken apologies. Riki smiled softly, nodding once, as if to say, “Thank you.”

Jake gave a small, almost imperceptible nod before heading toward the door.

As the door closed behind him, the room felt emptier—still and silent, holding the echo of a hug that said everything words couldn’t.

---

COUNTDOWN DAY-5

The afternoon sun dipped low, painting the sky in shades of gold and rose. The world outside felt alive, but inside, the weight of the coming goodbye pressed softly on their hearts.

Riki and Jake sat in comfortable silence, the faint sounds of the city drifting through the open window. Riki’s gaze was thoughtful, eyes tracing the patterns of light on the floor.

After a moment, Riki turned to Jake, voice gentle and tentative. “Jake… can we… go to the lake today? Just the two of us.”

Jake looked up, surprise flickering across his face. “The lake?”

Riki nodded, a small, hopeful smile brushing his lips. “Yes. I want to spend time with you—like we used to. Just sit by the water, talk, and eat ramen. Remember how simple it was before everything got complicated?”

Jake hesitated, the quiet pain in his eyes softening at the memory. “You want to go on a date… even now?”

Riki’s smile deepened, filled with quiet grace. “Yes. One last time. Before we say goodbye.”

Jake’s lips curved faintly, a reluctant warmth breaking through his guarded exterior. “Alright. The lake it is.”

Later that day, they found themselves side by side on the grassy shore, the gentle ripple of the water soothing in the background. Riki had packed a small picnic—steaming bowls of ramen wrapped carefully, the smell comforting and familiar.

They ate slowly, sharing the warmth of the food and the soft comfort of each other’s presence. Words were few, but every glance and smile spoke volumes.

Again, no more brushing off ramen's garnish that was stucked at the corner of Riki's lips.

For those few hours by the lake, the world seemed to hold its breath, allowing them a precious moment suspended between past love and an uncertain goodbye.

---

COUNTDOWN DAY-4

The afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting warm patches across the room where Riki lay curled up on the couch. His breathing was slow, calm — a peaceful pause in the midst of the storm inside both their hearts.

Jake sat nearby, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone, but his eyes kept drifting toward Riki. There was a heaviness in the air, a quiet ache neither of them could fully voice.

Riki shifted slightly, lifting his head just enough to meet Jake’s gaze. His voice was barely more than a whisper, soft and almost shy. “Jake… when I nap, can you… pat my head?”

Jake blinked, surprised by the simple request. A faint smile tugged at his lips, touched by Riki’s vulnerability. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

Without hesitation, Jake reached out, running his fingers gently over Riki’s hair in slow, soothing pats. The gesture was tender, silent — a wordless comfort that spoke of love and care without needing to say more.

Riki closed his eyes again, sinking into the soft rhythm, letting the quiet warmth wrap around him. For a moment, the weight between them lightened, held only by the gentle sound of Jake’s hand moving through his hair.

In that fragile, intimate pause, the world seemed softer — even as the end drew nearer.

---

Jake sat nearby, watching Riki curl up on the couch, the soft afternoon light falling across his serene face. When Riki’s gentle voice broke the silence—asking if Jake could pat his head during naptime—it caught Jake off guard. It was such a simple request, yet it carried a depth that stirred something inside him.

Without hesitation, Jake reached out, his hand moving slowly over Riki’s hair, patting softly. Though his heart was tangled in confusion, he obeyed the silent plea.

In that quiet moment, Jake wondered if Riki’s wish was more than just comfort—that maybe he wanted to hold onto something precious before everything between them ended. Yet Jake, lost in his own fading feelings, wasn’t sure if he could give Riki what he truly needed.

Still, he stayed—offering warmth through quiet touch, even as the days slipped away.

---

COUNTDOWN DAY-3

The kitchen smelled faintly of garlic and chili, the scent lingering like a memory between them. Riki sat at the table, eyes quietly watching Jake as he prepared their meal.

With a gentle smile, Riki finally spoke, voice as soft as a breeze. “Jake… can I have your gambas tonight? The way you make it… it’s the best.”

Jake looked up, surprised but touched by the simple request. He paused, then nodded. “Of course.”

As Jake cooked, Riki’s gaze lingered on him—there was a quiet yearning in his eyes, a silent wish to hold onto these moments a little longer, to savor the taste of familiarity and care.

Riki stole a piece of sliced garlic from Jake's plate and Jake didn't spent him any glance—he continue stuffing his mouth with no words that made Riki's heart ached.

That night, over the warm, spicy gambas, the unspoken ache between , they had no idea if they can fix this.

---

COUNTDOWN DAY-2

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside. The dim light cast shadows across Jake’s face as he looked down at Riki, who stood close, vulnerability and something else—something raw and aching—gleaming in his eyes.

“Jake,” Riki whispered, voice trembling but steady, “before we end… can you touch me? Feel me… one last time?”

Jake’s breath caught, heart hammering. He didn’t understand fully what Riki wanted, but he knew it was more than just a touch. It was a plea—a silent, desperate wish to hold onto the last threads of their connection before it unraveled completely.

Without thinking, Jake stepped closer. His hands slid gently over Riki’s skin, tracing the delicate curves of his neck, shoulders, and down his chest. Riki’s breath hitched, his body leaning into Jake’s touch like it was a lifeline.

“Please,” Riki murmured, eyes closing, lips parted with need and sorrow. “Just like this… hold me… feel me… so I don’t forget.”

Jake’s fingers trailed lower, exploring the soft planes of Riki’s body, memorizing every inch, every shiver beneath his touch. The heat between them grew thick, an electric tension that sparked through their veins.

Slowly, Jake’s lips brushed along Riki’s jawline, down his throat, claiming soft, hungry kisses that made Riki’s breath falter. Their hands roamed freely now, desperate and tender all at once.

Riki’s hands found Jake’s waist, pulling him closer as their bodies pressed flush together. The world narrowed to the feel of skin on skin, the racing of hearts, the taste of breath mingling.

Jake’s hands slipped beneath Riki’s shirt, fingers skimming hot, smooth skin. Riki’s back arched, a soft moan escaping his lips as Jake’s touch grew bolder, more demanding—an unspoken promise, a last imprint.

They moved together in slow, languid rhythm, savoring each moment—the closeness, the softness, the bittersweet urgency of a love on the brink of ending.

Jake’s lips found Riki’s again, deep and fierce, as if trying to memorize the taste of goodbye. Riki’s fingers tangled in Jake’s hair, holding on as if to never let go.

In this quiet, charged space, they shared what words could no longer say—a last night of passion, of love, of aching need.

And though the end loomed just beyond the horizon, for now, there was only this: their bodies entwined, hearts beating fast, holding onto each other as tightly as they could.

---

Jake lay awake long after Riki had fallen asleep, the quiet rhythm of Riki’s breathing beside him both comforting and painfully sharp. His fingers still tingled from the way he had touched him—the softness of Riki’s skin, the way their bodies had moved together like they still belonged.

He felt the same warmth, the same hunger that had drawn him to Riki years ago. That fierce pull, that fire that had once burned bright between them—it was still alive. But beneath it all, Jake felt something else. Something heavier.

A subtle, creeping emptiness that made every touch, every kiss, feel like trying to hold water in his hands.

He couldn’t put it into words, but it was there—a quiet loss, a distance that no amount of skin-on-skin closeness could erase.

Maybe it was how Riki had asked for this night—so gentle, so soft, yet so fragile, like a farewell whispered in a dream.

Or maybe it was the way Jake’s own heart felt numb beneath the hunger—the way his love had quietly faded into something quieter, less certain.

He traced the curve of Riki’s face in the dim light, memorizing every line, every shadow, every breath.

Jake didn’t want this to be the end. Not like this. Not so quietly, so broken.

But deep down, he knew some things couldn’t be held onto forever.

The warmth was still there. The hunger, too.

But the love... Jake wasn’t sure anymore.

----

COUNTDOWN DAY-1

The afternoon sun filtered softly through the curtains, casting warm patterns across the quiet room. Jake sat across from Riki on the worn velvet couch, his fingers nervously tapping against his knees, eyes fixed on the floor.

Riki’s gaze was steady, almost painfully gentle as he broke the silence. “Jake… before this all ends… can you say it? The words you used to say—the ones that made me feel like I was the only one in the world?”

Jake swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken feelings and memories that clawed at his chest. His voice caught, barely above a whisper.

“I… I don’t know if I can…” he stammered, cheeks flushing with the weight of the moment. “It’s been so long… and things are different now.”

Riki nodded, his eyes soft but resolute. “I know. But I need to hear it. Just once. For me.”

Jake’s heart ached, torn between the warmth of old love and the cold reality creeping into their lives. His mind scrambled to find the words, the feelings buried beneath years of quiet drifting apart.

“I… I loved you,” Jake began, voice trembling. “I still… I mean, maybe I still do, in some way.” He paused, biting his lip, searching Riki’s face for a sign—any sign—that he wasn’t breaking him further.

Riki’s breath hitched, a tear slipping free despite his effort to stay composed. “That’s enough,” he whispered. “Just say it again.”

Jake’s eyes flickered with confusion and pain. “Again?”

“Yes,” Riki’s voice was barely audible, but filled with aching hope. “Say it like you meant it. Like you used to.”

Jake’s fingers clenched into fists. He took a shaky breath, feeling the pull of everything they had shared—and everything they were about to lose.

“I loved you,” he repeated, slower this time, “with everything I had. You were… everything.”

The words hung in the air, fragile and raw. Jake looked at Riki, seeing the flicker of a smile, the shimmer of tears held back by sheer will.

“I know it’s hard,” Riki said softly, “but hearing you say it… it reminds me of what we had. Even if it’s ending.”

Jake nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. His voice broke as he whispered, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one you needed. I’m sorry it’s come to this.”

Riki reached out, his hand trembling as it covered Jake’s. “It’s not about blame. It’s about remembering. About holding on to the warmth before we let go.”

Jake’s heart shattered a little, caught between regret and the remnants of love. He squeezed Riki’s hand, the simple gesture carrying all the words he couldn’t say.

For a long moment, they sat like that—two souls clinging to the fading light of something beautiful, something lost.

“I’ll say it again,” Jake finally murmured, voice raw but sincere. “I loved you. I love you… in the ways I still can.”

Riki’s smile was bittersweet, but it held a flicker of peace. “That’s enough for today.”

As the sun dipped lower, casting golden hues around them, Jake felt the crushing weight of goodbye pressing down—but also the quiet comfort of having said what needed to be said.

And for that moment, at least, the distance between them seemed a little less impossible.

---

THE NEXT DAY

Jake’s footsteps echoed softly in the hallway as he finally returned home after a long day at work. The familiar weight of exhaustion settled into his bones, but something about the silence felt different—too still, too empty.

He slid the key into the lock and turned the handle, expecting the usual warmth of home. Instead, a hollow quiet met him, swallowing the familiar sounds and smells.

The door creaked open, and Jake stepped inside, eyes scanning the apartment like it had become a ghost of itself overnight.

His heart tightened.

Riki’s belongings—his clothes, his books, his little things scattered throughout the space—were gone. The chair by the window, once draped with Riki’s soft sweaters, sat bare. The shelves, usually cluttered with trinkets and photos, now stood empty. The framed picture of them together on the dresser was missing.

Jake’s breath caught in his throat.

He moved through the apartment slowly, as if walking on fragile glass, touching empty surfaces where Riki’s presence used to be. His fingers brushed over the cold wood of the kitchen table, the worn armrest of the couch where Riki used to rest his head.

“Riki?” Jake’s voice was barely a whisper, trembling with disbelief and dread.

No answer.

He called again, louder this time, but the walls swallowed his words. The silence screamed at him, thick and suffocating.

Jake’s mind raced, refusing to accept what his eyes told him.

Had Riki left in the night? Without a word? Without a goodbye?

He searched the apartment desperately—every closet, every corner—looking for a note, a sign, anything that could explain the sudden emptiness.

But there was nothing.

Only absence.

Panic bloomed inside Jake’s chest, sharp and cold. His hands trembled as he sank down onto the couch, head in his hands, the weight of loss crashing over him in relentless waves.

He could still feel Riki’s softness—the way he smiled, the gentle way he asked for one last week together. The way Jake had stuttered through his words the day before, trying to hold on.

But now…

Now there was only silence.

His mind flicked back to their last conversation, the quiet desperation in Riki’s voice when he asked Jake to say those words one last time. The fragile hope beneath the sadness.

Had that hope been all Riki needed to leave?

Jake’s throat tightened. Was he too late?

His fingers traced the edge of the couch where Riki used to sit, the spot still warm with memories. The space where Riki had asked for gentle touches, whispered words, and quiet closeness.

Had Jake failed him? Had his own fading feelings pushed Riki away?

The thought clawed at his heart.

He stood abruptly, pacing the empty room, the silence pressing in like a suffocating fog. Every step echoed his helplessness.

Jake’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out with trembling hands—no new messages. No missed calls.

He scrolled through their old texts, reading the tender messages from years ago, the playful jokes, the midnight conversations that once burned bright.

Now, the screen felt cold and distant.

Jake sank back onto the floor, back against the wall, knees pulled close. His breath came in ragged gasps as the reality settled in fully.

Riki was gone.

And with him, the love Jake had once known.

The room, once a sanctuary of warmth and laughter, was now just an empty shell—haunted by the echoes of what was and what could never be again.

Jake closed his eyes, wishing desperately for one more moment. One more chance to say what he truly felt before the distance between them grew too wide.

But all he had was silence.

And the unbearable ache of losing someone who was already slipping away.

---

Jake stepped inside the small café, the familiar chime of the bell above the door resonating softly in the quiet morning. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans and warm pastries wrapped around him like a distant memory — comforting but edged with bittersweet ache.

He hesitated for a moment before making his way to the corner table by the window, the very spot he and Riki had claimed for countless mornings. It was a place that had witnessed laughter, whispered conversations, shared secrets, and quiet silences filled with the unspoken language of their love.

Sliding into the worn leather seat, Jake’s fingers trembled as he set his laptop down. He had come here to meet a looming deadline — a desperate attempt to distract himself from the hollow ache that had taken root since Riki left.

But the moment he looked out the window and saw the early sunlight filtering through the leaves, memories crashed over him like a tidal wave.

He remembered Riki’s gentle smile, the way his eyes lit up when he spoke about small things — a new book, a dream for the future, a silly joke. How his laughter had a softness to it, a melody Jake used to think would never fade.

Jake’s breath hitched, and his fingers instinctively curled around the edge of the table, seeking something solid to hold onto.

Suddenly, he was no longer in the present. He was back to the mornings they’d spent here, huddled close as they shared a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of Riki’s favorite pastries. The way Riki would reach across the table to brush a stray lock of hair from Jake’s forehead, fingers warm and tender.

The warmth of those memories pressed against Jake’s chest, a sharp contrast to the cold emptiness he’d felt since Riki’s absence.

He blinked, and suddenly the sting of tears caught him off guard. They welled up slowly at first, then spilled over, blurring his vision and falling silently onto his laptop keyboard.

Jake swallowed hard, blinking furiously in a futile attempt to stop the tears. But each breath seemed to carry more of the weight he’d been holding back, and soon the tears streamed freely down his face.

He wiped at them quickly with the back of his hand, embarrassed by the sudden loss of control.

Before he could gather himself, a gentle voice interrupted.

“Here, you might need this,” a waitress said softly, holding out a small pack of tissues. Her eyes were kind, sympathetic, but she didn’t press or ask questions.

Jake accepted the tissues with a trembling hand, the simple act of kindness breaking through the fortress of his pride.

He dabbed at his eyes, heart pounding, as the memories and pain he’d buried beneath the day-to-day tasks rose to the surface with fierce clarity.

The café buzzed quietly around him — the clinking of cups, murmurs of conversation, the soft jazz playing over the speakers — but Jake felt utterly alone, cradled by his grief.

He thought of Riki’s soft voice asking Jake to say the words one last time, the fragile hope in those final moments before the inevitable goodbye.

Jake’s fingers traced the keys of his laptop, but the words he needed to write wouldn’t come. His mind was tangled with the what-ifs, the things left unsaid, the warmth that was slipping farther from his reach.

His throat tightened as he whispered, “I’m sorry,” to no one in particular.

Tears blurred the screen again, but this time Jake let them fall. Let the grief wash over him like a cleansing storm, the ache of love lost but never forgotten.

He thought about the little things — Riki’s laughter, the quiet touch of his hand, the softness of his skin against Jake’s own. How those moments had felt like everything, and how now they were fragments he held onto desperately.

The waitress returned silently with a fresh cup of coffee, placing it gently on the table without a word. Jake nodded in thanks, the warmth of the cup a small comfort against the cold hollow inside.

He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the bittersweet aroma of coffee and memories.

Maybe this was part of healing — sitting with the pain, letting the tears fall, acknowledging the love that had been and the loss that now defined him.

Jake reached for his phone, fingers hesitant as he scrolled through old messages from Riki. Each one was a shard of a past life — laughter, plans, promises. The texts now felt like echoes from a distant dream.

His chest tightened again, but somewhere deep inside, a quiet strength stirred. The strength to remember, to grieve, and maybe, one day, to let go.

For now, he would stay here, in this small café filled with ghosts and warmth, letting the tears fall freely and the memories live on.

Because even in loss, love remains — fragile, painful, and beautiful.

---

The wind was kind that morning.

It brushed softly against Riki’s cheek, lifting the ends of his hair and cooling the back of his neck beneath the collar of his light knit sweater. The canvas stood still in front of him, propped on a portable easel Jake once bought for him. He hadn’t used it in a long time. The wood was a little worn now, stained in the corners with dried paint, but it still held.

Just like he still held.

Riki dipped the brush into a pale blue, letting the bristles gather color as his eyes stared out over the river. The water shimmered under the morning light, broken only by the occasional ripple or soft splash of fish. It reminded him of Jake’s laughter — brief, warm, unpredictable.

He painted the sky first, blending blue into lavender, lavender into the softest yellow. His hand moved like instinct. Graceful. Quiet. Riki had always been quiet, but now, he felt like silence had grown into his skin. Like it had become part of his nature — the way he walked, the way he blinked, the way he chose not to look back even when he felt someone watching him from the other side of the riverbank.

He knew it was Jake.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t pause. Only continued to paint, letting his hand curve around the shape of a tree, its branches stretching out like tired arms.

Jake always said Riki looked like something from a dream. In the mornings, with his eyes still half-shut and the light just beginning to warm the room, Jake used to whisper it, lips pressed against Riki’s temple. “You’re unreal.”

Riki never believed it. But he always remembered.

He painted the grass next. Soft strokes. Gentle motion. In his mind, he was painting the two of them — or maybe the ghosts of who they used to be. Riki knew what this was. Closure. This wasn’t about forgetting Jake, and it wasn’t about holding on, either. It was about creating a moment that only belonged to him.

A final gift to himself.

He had spent Day 1 asking for love. Jake had tried. Riki saw how his voice shook, how his eyes darted, uncertain. He’d tried to give Riki the words he no longer felt, and Riki… Riki had smiled anyway. Not out of cruelty. Not out of foolish hope.

But because he understood.

Love didn’t always end loudly. Sometimes, it faded gently. Sometimes, people didn’t leave you — they just softened into something else, something too quiet to stay.

He remembered every countdown. Every request.

Jake’s kisses.

Jake’s hugs.

Jake’s hand patting his head like a child.

Jake’s favorite dish shared beneath an umbrella by the lake.

Jake’s warmth in bed, familiar and deep, even if distant.

He remembered it all.

And he let himself ask for those things not to trap Jake or change his mind, but to preserve what little light still existed between them. To hold it in the palm of his hand just once more, before letting it go.

The brush stilled.

Riki stepped back and looked at the painting — a wide, empty field beneath a sleepy sky. In the middle of it, two figures stood, blurred and faceless, holding hands without touching.

He smiled.

Not broken.

Not shattered.

Just quiet.

He began packing up slowly, aware that Jake might still be watching, but he didn’t look. It was enough. Enough that Jake saw he was okay. That he hadn’t crumbled. That even in parting, he carried grace.

Because Riki had learned something through the pain: sometimes, letting go didn’t mean you stopped loving. It just meant you chose yourself, even with love still living inside you.

He turned once, brushing his fingers over the easel with reverence and waited for Jake to start the conversation.

---

The afternoon sunlight was soft as Jake walked along the river path, the weight of the morning’s tears still lingering beneath his skin. The city buzzed quietly around him, but his mind was heavy, lost in a fog of memories and what-ifs.

He barely noticed the gentle rustling of leaves or the distant laughter of children playing. His steps were slow, automatic, the world around him blurred like a painting fading at the edges.

Then, just ahead, something caught his eye.

A splash of color by the riverbank—a canvas propped on an easel, strokes of paint capturing the delicate dance of light on the water. And beside it, a figure sitting serenely, brush in hand, completely absorbed in the art.

Jake’s breath hitched.

It was Riki.

There was no hesitation in his step as Jake approached, heart pounding so loud it felt like thunder in his ears. Riki’s presence was as breathtaking as ever—his skin glowing softly in the golden light, hair catching the sun’s warmth, eyes focused with quiet concentration.

But what stunned Jake most was the calmness radiating from him. No trace of sadness, no shadow of pain. Just grace. Just softness.

Riki looked up briefly, and their eyes met.

For a moment, time seemed to still. Jake felt his chest tighten, overwhelmed by the sight of the person he had loved so deeply, now somehow more ethereal than ever.

“Riki,” Jake’s voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

Riki smiled—a gentle, knowing curve of his lips that made Jake’s heart ache with longing and regret.

“Jake,” he replied softly, his voice like a melody. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Jake took a tentative step closer, struggling to find the words that wouldn’t come.

“I… I was just at the café. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Riki’s gaze returned to the canvas, his brush moving slowly, deliberately.

“It’s peaceful here,” he said simply. “I needed a place to breathe.”

Jake’s eyes traced the painting—a scene of the river shimmering under sunlight, the colors blending like a dream. It was beautiful. Just like Riki.

He swallowed hard, fighting back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over again.

“You look… well,” Jake said, voice catching. “Better than I expected.”

Riki’s smile softened, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“I’m learning,” he said quietly. “To let go. To find grace in the silence.”

Jake nodded, heart aching with the weight of all the words left unsaid between them.

He wanted to reach out, to close the distance, but his hands trembled, unsure if he was welcome.

Riki set down his brush and looked at Jake fully, eyes deep and unwavering.

“Thank you for the week we shared,” he said softly. “It was… precious.”

Jake swallowed, tears blurring his vision again. He wanted to tell Riki everything—how much he still loved him, how sorry he was for losing his way—but the words got stuck, fragile and broken.

Instead, he managed a shaky smile.

“Thank you, too.”

For a long moment, they simply looked at each other, two souls bound by love and loss, suspended between past and future.

Then Riki picked up his brush again, dipping it gently into the paint.

“Take care, Jake.”

And with that, he turned back to the canvas, the quiet rhythm of his painting filling the space between them.

Jake stood there a little longer, the river’s gentle murmur a bittersweet soundtrack to the scene before him.

As he walked away, a strange mix of sorrow and peace settled over him.

Riki was still beautiful. Still graceful. Still soft.

And somehow, that was enough for now.

---

Jake walked slowly.

Each step away from the river felt heavier, like he was dragging something invisible but impossibly dense behind him. The memory of Riki sitting by the water—so composed, so radiant in the afternoon sun—played over and over in his mind like a looped dream. And underneath that image, a flood of memories surged like a rising tide.

He remembered the arguments.

Not the loud, explosive kind. No, they never fought like that. Their fights were hushed, clipped words in the quiet of the night, tensions strung tight between unsaid feelings. Jake used to shut down, retreat into silence when he was angry or tired or confused. And it was always Riki—always him—who folded first.

“I’m sorry,” Riki would whisper, even when it wasn’t his fault.

He’d approach Jake gently, eyes lowered but warm, fingers tugging softly at Jake’s sleeve like he was scared to pull too hard. Jake used to think it was just Riki being overly sensitive, but now… now he saw it for what it was.

Love.

Riki’s way of saying, “Please don’t walk away,” without ever needing to raise his voice.

Jake winced at the memory of how often he let that love go unnoticed. Taken for granted. He thought Riki’s softness would always be there. That no matter how many times he turned away, Riki would still be waiting behind him.

He remembered how Riki looked when he was sick—still beautiful, still composed. Even with fever-flushed cheeks and a shaky voice, Riki would try to make tea for Jake or apologize for being a burden. Jake used to tell him to rest, but not nearly as often as he should’ve. He never stayed long enough by his side.

And yet Riki never complained. Never asked for more than Jake was willing to give.

It killed him now.

The memory of Riki lying curled up on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket, barely able to stay awake—but his hand still reaching for Jake’s, seeking nothing more than a gentle squeeze. Jake had held it back then, but half-heartedly, too distracted with emails and meetings and whatever else he thought was important.

What he wouldn’t give to go back and hold it tighter. Longer.

Jake blinked up at the sky, blinking away the sting in his eyes. He passed a little bakery that once held their Saturday morning tradition—Riki always got the strawberry tart. Jake hated strawberries, but he always took the first bite just to see Riki’s smile.

Even then, Riki had noticed the way Jake flinched at the taste.

“You don’t like it, huh?” Riki had said, smiling and reaching to take it back.

Jake had shaken his head but let him. That smile again—so understanding, so unbothered.

“Next time, you pick.”

But Jake rarely did.

He just let Riki keep choosing, and Riki kept doing it. Out of love. Out of quiet sacrifice.

And now… now he was gone.

Jake stopped walking. The ache in his chest grew unbearable. There was no one to message when he got home, no soft voice to welcome him back with, “You’re late, did you eat?”

There would be no more morning kisses. No soft, sleepy hums from Riki brushing against his arm under the sheets. No more gentle fingers running through his hair when he was stressed. No one quietly tiptoeing into his office just to put a cup of warm coffee down without a word.

Jake thought he’d needed space. He thought love could grow stale.

But now he understood—it hadn’t been the love that faded. It had been his own ability to recognize it.

Riki had always been there.

Always soft.

Always giving.

And Jake had been too blind, too tired, too sure it would last forever.

Now the world felt quieter without Riki’s grace in it.

And Jake wasn’t sure how to exist in that silence.

---

The coffee in Jake’s cup had long gone cold.

Heeseung’s voice echoed faintly through his noise-canceling earbuds, the lazy hum of traffic below the balcony mixing with birdsong and the quiet drumming of Jake’s guilt.

Jake hadn’t intended to listen in.

Heeseung had come over just to drop off some books Jake left at the studio, but somehow ended up lounging on Jake’s couch, wireless speaker playing some relationship podcast at half-volume while scrolling his phone.

Jake was only half-paying attention—until the emcee asked that question.

“How did your relationship last that long? You’ve been together for what, ten years?”

There was a pause, a soft chuckle from the guest. Then came the words.

“I made him do what we always did. You know? Just... the little things. And boom—he’s back.”

Jake sat up.

The line hit him like a quiet thunderclap.

What we always did.

What we always did.

He blinked.

And suddenly, all the days—the soft, gentle countdown Riki had given him—came back not as random parting requests, but like a puzzle snapping into place.

The goodnight and good morning kisses on Day 7.

The quiet hug before work on Day 6.

The lakeside ramen on Day 5, where they used to go every month without fail.

Riki’s head resting under his palm during his nap on Day 4, just like when Jake used to sneak in midday breaks to cuddle him on the couch.

The gambas on Day 3. Riki never stole food—except from Jake’s plate. Always his. Always his.

The intimacy on Day 2... the way Riki held onto him, quiet and trembling, like he was trying to remember him skin to skin.

And then Day 1. The hardest.

The love words.

Riki’s final ask.

Jake remembered how his throat locked. How his mind scrambled for phrases he used to say without thinking. “You’re beautiful, Riki.” “I love the way you talk softly.” “Your smile makes everything better.” But all of them died somewhere between his lips and lungs.

Because he hadn’t felt it then.

Or maybe... he did, but he buried it too deep in the rubble of his own numbness.

Jake sat frozen on the edge of the bed, every heartbeat thudding louder in his ears.

Seven days.

Seven gifts.

Seven silent chances.

Riki hadn’t begged. Hadn’t clung. Hadn’t cried.

He simply asked Jake to relive their love—piece by piece.

And Jake, stupid, blind, exhausted, did it without asking why. Without seeing it.

Because he thought it was Riki’s way of letting go.

But it was Riki’s last, fragile attempt to bring him back.

To remind him of what they had. Of who they were. Of how they used to be.

Jake covered his face with his palms.

He remembered how Riki smiled on the last night. Graceful as ever. Calm. Even when Jake didn’t say the words right.

Riki hadn’t looked angry. Just... accepting.

And now, he realized why.

Because Jake failed him.

Not by falling out of love.

But by not recognizing how hard Riki was trying.

How deeply he loved him—even in the process of goodbye.

“Damn it,” Jake whispered, throat burning.

Heeseung glanced up from the couch. “Huh?”

Jake stood up so fast the chair scraped across the floor. “I need to go.”

Heeseung blinked. “Go where?”

But Jake was already pulling on his jacket, heart pounding in his chest.

He had no idea where Riki was now. Maybe by the river again. Maybe somewhere new. But he had to find him. He had to. Even if it was too late.

Because now he knew:

Those seven days weren’t a slow goodbye.

They were a silent scream.

A love letter in actions.

And Jake had read it too late.

Here are both scenes, starting with Jake's desperate search, followed by Riki’s quiet heartbreak when he realizes Jake never understood.

---

Jake ran.

He didn’t even lock the door behind him.

The sky was cloudy, and it matched the haze in his head. His legs moved before his thoughts could settle. He had no destination. Just a name—Riki—pounding through his blood like a prayer, a plea.

The river.

The cafe.

The old bookstore near the station where Riki liked to linger by the art aisle.

Empty. All of them.

Jake’s lungs burned, but the hollowness in his chest was worse.

He pulled out his phone, fingers trembling as he opened his message thread with Riki. Blank. No new updates. The last message from Riki was: “Be safe coming home.” The night before he disappeared.

He called. No answer.

He texted. Where are you? Please.

No response.

Jake sat on a bench by the lake they used to walk around together. The ramen shop sign flickered across the street.

His hands trembled in his lap.

The pain he felt wasn’t just loss—it was the shattering awareness of how blind he had been. Riki had tried. Lovingly, quietly. He hadn’t begged, but he gave Jake every piece of their past in soft repetition. And Jake—foolish Jake—had treated it like a gentle goodbye.

But it was never a goodbye.

It was Riki’s love letter.

And Jake never read it.

Now, there was nothing left but silence. Cold and vast and echoing his own name.

---

Somewhere far from the city lights, in a quiet room filled with drying paint and the soft scent of sakura tea, Riki looked out the window.

He didn’t cry.

That was the thing with him—he never did, at least not where anyone could see. Not even when he packed the last of his things and left Jake’s apartment, leaving behind only the memories that once bloomed like wildflowers.

He’d known.

On Day 3, when Jake barely looked up while Riki stole his favorite gambas, he knew.

On Day 2, when Jake kissed him like muscle memory and not desire, he knew.

But Day 1—when Riki asked him for the love words they used to share and Jake stuttered, blank, avoiding his gaze—that was when it solidified.

Jake had forgotten.

Or maybe... Jake had moved on.

Riki had asked for nothing grand. Just the little things. The warmth. The kindness. The rhythm they used to move in together.

He thought maybe, just maybe, if Jake felt them again, he would remember the reason they ever loved in the first place.

But Jake didn’t see it.

Riki sat by his window now, wrapped in a cardigan Jake once said made him look like a poem. He sipped his tea. He watched the sun rise.

There was no resentment in his chest. Just a quiet ache, like a bruise under skin.

Jake had loved him once. He believed that.

But love, like all things, could slip through your fingers if you weren’t looking.

And Riki had looked. He tried.

Jake hadn’t.

So Riki stopped waiting.

---

Jake hadn’t slept.

His eyes were bloodshot, dark crescents beneath them like bruises from a fight he never saw coming. The moment the podcast ended—those haunting words echoing: “I made him do what we always did... and boom—he’s back”—Jake couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t breathe right.

He stood outside Sunghoon’s apartment now, knuckles white as he knocked for the third time.

When the door opened, Sunghoon didn’t greet him.

“Where is he?” Jake said without preamble. His voice cracked. “Please. I need to talk to Riki.”

Sunghoon’s face didn’t move. Not a flicker of warmth or pity. Just exhaustion, the kind that comes from watching someone you love fall apart quietly while the person who caused it stood blind in the wreckage.

“Now you care?” Sunghoon asked, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Jake flinched. “I—Hoon, I didn’t know. I didn’t understand what he was doing. I thought he just—wanted closure. A soft ending.”

Sunghoon scoffed, low and bitter. “Closure? Jake, are you hearing yourself?”

Jake swallowed hard, shame prickling beneath his skin. “I was confused. I thought… I thought we were done. He said he accepted it.”

“He smiled,” Sunghoon said coldly. “Like he always does. He smiled and said okay, and you didn’t even look past it. You didn’t see how hard he was trying. You didn’t ask why he was suddenly clinging to old routines. You thought he wanted nostalgia. He was fighting for you, Jake.”

Jake stared at the floor. The guilt in his chest twisted like wire.

“You know what’s worse?” Sunghoon continued, stepping forward. “He never told me the whole plan. I didn’t even know about the countdown until Day 5, when he cried into my coat after you dropped him off from your lake date. He said, ‘He smiled when I made him slurp the noodles. I thought maybe… maybe he remembered how much he used to love me.’”

Jake’s knees almost buckled.

Sunghoon’s voice cracked now, fury warping into something heavier. “He asked you for a kiss. A hug. A date. A meal. A pat on the head. And finally… he asked you to touch him. And you did all of it like he was checking off boxes on his way out the door.”

“I didn’t know—”

“You didn’t care enough to know. You were so wrapped in your own confusion, you forgot that Riki isn’t someone who begs. He loves gently. He gives softly. And when you ignore that—when you dismiss his language of love just because it’s quiet—you crush him without even noticing.”

Jake’s breath hitched. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just… I thought I fell out of love. But now—”

“Now it’s too late,” Sunghoon snapped. “Because after everything, he finally accepted it wasn’t confusion. It was your selfishness.”

The words hit harder than any punch.

Silence fell between them. Jake looked smaller now. Folded into himself. And still, behind the wreckage of guilt, was that one desperate need.

“Please,” he whispered. “I need to see him. I need to apologize. I need him to know I finally understand.”

Sunghoon stared for a long moment. Then he sighed, like the anger was still there, but buried under exhaustion and sadness.

“He moved into the art studio apartment behind Sakura Alley,” he said finally. “Room 302. But don’t go there expecting a happy ending, Jake. Don’t go thinking your realization earns you a place back in his life.”

Jake nodded slowly. “I know.”

Sunghoon’s voice softened, just a little. “Just… if you really loved him, even once, don’t hurt him more than you already have.”

Jake nodded again.

Then he turned, holding the address like it was fragile, like it would break if he gripped it too hard.

The air was colder now. Or maybe it was just guilt dragging him under.

As he walked away, Sunghoon leaned against the doorframe, watching him disappear into the gray of the city.

“Don’t be too late this time,” he murmured under his breath.

---

The night Riki came to Sunghoon's apartment

Steam still rising from Sunghoon’s skin, he wrapped a towel around his waist, the warmth lingering as he headed toward his bedroom. Just as he reached for his shirt, the sharp buzz of the doorbell interrupted the quiet apartment.

With a frown, he opened the door to find Riki standing there—calm and graceful as always, but with a weight Sunghoon hadn’t seen before. His eyes held a quiet ache, a softness mixed with something unspoken.

“Riki?” Sunghoon said, surprised and instantly alert. “What are you doing here?”

Riki’s lips curved into the smallest smile, delicate as a whisper. “May I come in?”

Sunghoon stepped aside wordlessly. The air between them felt thick—like the calm before a storm. Riki entered, carrying a small bag, the kind that suggested a long journey or a sudden departure.

They sat in silence for a long moment before Riki spoke again, voice steady but heavy.

“I sold my apartment. The one I had before I moved in with Jake.”

Sunghoon’s brows knitted together. “You sold it? Why?”

Riki’s gaze lowered, hands folded neatly in his lap. “Because I believed... I thought Jake and I would live together forever. I wanted to leave the past behind me. To erase the distance.”

Sunghoon’s chest tightened, the weight of the words sinking deep. “And now?”

Riki swallowed, but his voice didn’t waver. “Now, I don’t even know where I belong.”

The vulnerability beneath Riki’s usual composed exterior shook something in Sunghoon.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly.

“I didn’t want anyone to see me break,” Riki admitted. “I thought I could hold on, keep everything perfect. But the truth is... things fell apart.”

Sunghoon reached out hesitantly, placing a hand over Riki’s. The touch was grounding.

“I’m here now. You don’t have to be alone.”

Riki looked up, eyes shimmering with a quiet storm. “Sometimes I wonder if Jake ever truly saw me—if I was ever enough.”

Sunghoon’s voice dropped lower, thick with emotion. “You are more than enough. You’re beautiful, strong, and you deserve love that never makes you doubt.”

Riki smiled faintly, a fragile thing. “I believed in us. Sold my home to start a life with him. But the house isn’t a home if the heart isn’t there.”

Sunghoon squeezed his hand gently. “You gave everything, Riki. That’s not weakness.”

“It just feels like loss,” Riki whispered. “Like a universe collapsing.”

Sunghoon’s breath caught. “I’m sorry you’re hurting.”

Riki’s eyes softened, resting on Sunghoon like a weary soul seeking refuge. “Thank you for letting me be here.”

“Always,” Sunghoon replied, voice steady.

Slowly, Sunghoon helped Riki to his feet, guiding him toward the bedroom. He changed Riki into pajamas with a tenderness that spoke without words—no rush, no pressure, just presence.

Riki settled into the bed, the quiet fragility around him making Sunghoon’s heart ache.

“Jake used to say I was his universe,” Riki murmured, voice thick with unshed tears. “But maybe, to him, I was just a passing star.”

Sunghoon brushed a stray lock of hair from Riki’s forehead. “You’re not just a star. You’re the whole sky.”

Riki closed his eyes, letting the warmth of Sunghoon’s touch anchor him. “Love isn’t always about being together. Sometimes it’s about knowing when to let go.”

Sunghoon nodded. “But you don’t have to let go of yourself.”

They stayed like that—two broken souls finding strength in each other’s quiet.

---

Jake stared at the address Sunghoon had just handed him, the neat handwriting a stark contrast to the chaos swirling inside his mind. His fingers trembled as he held the small slip of paper, feeling like it was some kind of cruel joke. How had things gotten so far? How had Riki slipped away without even a warning?

Sunghoon's words strolling in his brain over and over , almost harsh. “Jake, he’s moved out. He sold the apartment he had before you two moved in together. It’s... his new place now. You need to see for yourself. Stop ignoring what’s happening.”

Jake wanted to argue, to say he hadn’t been ignoring, but deep down, he knew that wasn’t true. The truth was brutal and biting—he had been oblivious. Blind to the quiet signs, to the subtle ways Riki had been reaching for him during those seven days. The kisses in the morning and night, the soft requests for hugs, the date by the lake eating ramen in the cool air, the pat on the head during naps, the last touch of skin on skin, and finally, the desperate plea for words of love.

All those moments were Riki’s way of trying to save what was slipping through their fingers. But Jake had been too caught up in his own confusion and fear. His own selfishness had blinded him to the tenderness right in front of him.

The weight of that realization crushed him. His chest felt tight, and the air was thick with regret. How could he have been so careless with someone he loved so deeply? How had he let the distance grow so wide, so silent, without trying harder?

Jake sank down onto the edge of his couch, head in his hands. His mind raced, filled with memories that stung like fresh wounds. He remembered Riki’s soft smile—the one that never quite reached his eyes lately—the quiet grace that had once been his refuge, now feeling like a fragile, distant memory.

“I’m sorry,” Jake whispered to the empty room, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry, Riki. I didn’t see you. I didn’t hear you.”

The silence around him was suffocating. It was a silence filled with everything he hadn’t said, with the spaces where love once lived but now felt hollow. He felt tears sting his eyes but blinked them away stubbornly. He couldn’t break down here, not yet.

But he couldn’t stay here either.

Jake grabbed his coat, feeling the cold reality settle over him like a heavy cloak. He had to find Riki. He had to try.

The walk to Riki’s new apartment was slow and agonizing. Each step was heavy, weighted with the dread of what might come. What if Riki didn’t want to see him? What if the love Jake thought they shared was already gone for good?

The building was quiet, unassuming, nothing like the home they’d shared. His heart pounded painfully as he climbed the stairs, breath catching in his throat.

When Jake knocked, the door opened almost immediately, revealing Riki standing there—still as graceful and soft as ever, but something about him was different. There was a calmness in his expression, a distant look that Jake hadn’t seen before.

“Jake,” Riki said quietly. No anger, no tears—just the gentlest voice Jake had ever known.

Jake struggled to find words, choking on the lump in his throat. “Riki… I’m sorry. I didn’t understand. I didn’t see how much you were trying. I was selfish. I was scared. But I love you. I still do.”

Riki’s eyes softened, but a shadow of sadness lingered. “I know, Jake. That’s why I left. You needed to feel what it was like without me. To remember what we had.”

Jake’s chest tightened painfully. “Please don’t do this alone.”

Riki took a small step closer, the space between them charged with a fragile tension. “Love isn’t always about being together every moment. Sometimes, love means knowing when to let go.”

Jake swallowed hard, tears spilling over despite himself. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then don’t,” Riki whispered. “But we have to start over—really start over. No silence. No pretending. Just us.”

Jake reached out slowly, taking Riki’s hand in his own, fingers trembling. “I’m ready. I’m here.”

Riki squeezed his hand, a faint smile breaking through the sadness. “Good. Because I still believe in us. Even if it’s hard.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Jake felt a fragile hope blossom inside him. And as he looked into Riki’s soft, unwavering eyes, he knew he would fight for that hope—fight for them—no matter the cost.

“Boredom is a season, not a reason to let go. Let’s change the weather together.”

"Make the boredom go , not the person."

Chapter Text

The early morning haze hung gently over the ENHYPEN dorm, the sky outside a sleepy gray-blue. The room was quiet save for the hum of the air conditioner and the occasional shift of fabric as bodies settled deeper into warmth. Somewhere in the shared space of the members’ dorm, soft breathing mingled — but in the farthest corner, beneath layers of kicked-off blankets, Ni-ki stirred.

A sharp jolt of ache radiated through his lower back when he shifted just a little. He inhaled through his teeth with a quiet hiss, eyes fluttering open as his body immediately reminded him of the night before.

"Fuck I'm so sore."

Sunghoon.

Last night.

Ni-ki’s face flushed against the pillow. He dared not move too much — not only because of the deep soreness in places he didn’t even know could hurt, but also because if he looked to his side, he’d see him.

His skin was warm, still flushed from the memories etched into his muscles. Sunghoon had been... merciless. Completely out of his mind. The way he gripped Ni-ki’s waist, the rasp of his voice when he whispered “I can’t get enough of you” against his skin, the sound of the headboard—

Ni-ki’s eyes widened, and he buried his face deeper into the pillow.

He tried to stretch — regretted it immediately. A strained whimper escaped him as his hips twitched from the soreness, and his whole body went stiff.

“...Riki?” came the sleepy, husky voice right beside him.

Ni-ki froze.

Sunghoon shifted, slow and heavy with sleep, but the second his eyes landed on the younger, something in him softened. He blinked the drowsiness away and pushed himself up onto one elbow, looking down at Ni-ki with furrowed brows.

“You okay?” he asked gently, voice still gravelly from sleep.

Ni-ki only nodded meekly, still hiding half his face in the pillow.

Sunghoon reached out, brushing the hair away from Ni-ki’s forehead. “You’re sore, aren’t you?”

Another nod. Slower this time. Ni-ki felt like a wilted flower.

Sunghoon let out a breathy chuckle, laced with guilt. “I got carried away…”

Ni-ki peeked up at him, pout forming. “Crazy,” he mumbled, voice hoarse.

Sunghoon laughed quietly, bringing his hand to Ni-ki’s cheek. “I was crazy,” he agreed. “But you kept asking for more.”

“Did not,” Ni-ki groaned, trying to roll over — only to immediately wince and retreat.

Sunghoon caught him, helping ease him onto his back with a featherlight touch.

“You’re not moving today,” he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Ni-ki’s shoulder. “I’ll bring you warm water, medicine, whatever you want.”

Ni-ki blinked slowly, lips parted, completely overwhelmed by how gentle Sunghoon was now. The contrast between last night’s heated chaos and this morning’s calm was dizzying.

Sunghoon leaned a little closer, eyes shining with affection.

“Can I get a good morning kiss?” he asked, voice soft, boyish even.

Ni-ki’s entire face flushed. His hand came up weakly, covering his mouth. “i haven't brush my teeth…”

Sunghoon tilted his head. “And?”

Ni-ki shook his head stubbornly. “It’s gross.”

“You think I care?” Sunghoon grinned, eyes crinkling. “I had my tongue halfway down your throat last night, Riki.”

“Sunghoon-hyung!” Ni-ki buried his entire face in the blanket.

Sunghoon laughed again — low, adoring — then gently pulled the blanket back down just enough to reveal Ni-ki’s flushed face.

“Come here,” he said, voice like velvet, and leaned in.

Ni-ki hesitated, biting his bottom lip, eyes fluttering up to Sunghoon’s. The kiss wasn’t desperate or intense like the night before — it was soft. Reverent. Barely more than a press of lips. But it melted something deep in Ni-ki’s chest.

When they parted, Sunghoon rested their foreheads together.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

Ni-ki couldn’t speak, so he just nodded, cheeks still flushed, heart beating slow and deep. He still ached, but under Sunghoon’s touch, it felt worth it.

And when Sunghoon pulled the blanket up and tucked it around them again, wrapping Ni-ki in his arms so carefully like he was holding porcelain, Ni-ki thought—

If this is the morning after… I wouldn’t mind forever like this.

---

The comforting smell of warm soup, steamed rice, and toasted bread filled the dorm kitchen as the members gathered one by one, still drowsy in their oversized shirts and bed hair. Heeseung was scooping miso soup into bowls, Jake was stacking toast, and Jay yawned as he set out chopsticks and spoons.

"Sunghoon-hyung!Riki-san! You guys up yet?" Jungwon called for the lovebirds to have breakfast together.

Sunoo, already curled up in a corner seat with his hoodie pulled up, blinked at the empty spot beside him.

“Where’s Riki?” he asked casually, stirring his tea.

“He’s not coming,” came Sunghoon’s voice, smooth and low, as he stepped into the kitchen.

Everyone turned.

Sunghoon looked freshly showered, hoodie zipped up halfway, towel still hanging around his neck. He moved without rushing, but there was something about the way he walked — like he was on a mission.

He didn’t go for the food.

He went straight to the tray, quietly setting up a bowl of soup, some fruit slices, and a mug of warm ginger tea.

Jake raised an eyebrow. “You’re not eating with us?”

Sunghoon shook his head, not even looking up. “Riki needs to eat first.”

The room fell silent for half a beat.

Then Jungwon snorted. “It’s one of those mornings.”

Heeseung continued " You really got to control your beast, Hoon. He's nineteen."

Jay smirked knowingly as he leaned back in his chair. “Twice a month, like clockwork.”

“Yup,” Jake added with a grin. “He shows up alone, walks like he’s carrying holy offerings, and disappears again.”

Sunoo sipped his tea slowly, watching Sunghoon carefully put the spoon next to the bowl and cover the tray with a cloth to keep it warm. “And Riki doesn’t even look at any of us until the next day. Shy as hell.”

“He probably can’t even walk right now,” Jay said, half-laughing.

Sunghoon paused, just for a second, one brow twitching like he was trying not to smile — or admit guilt.

“He’s sore,” he said simply, then glanced up. “So if anyone needs him today, don’t. I’ll handle it.”

“You better, Romeo,” Jake said, full of mischief. “You nearly broke our youngest again.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes but picked up the tray carefully and turned to leave. “He’s fine. Just resting.”

“Resting?” Jungwon echoed, shaking his head. “More like recovering from the trauma.”

As Sunghoon left, the door swinging quietly behind him, Sunoo leaned in toward the others.

“That’s the fourth time in two months,” he murmured.

“Fifth,” corrected Jay. “Last one was when he didn’t show up for dance practice and Sunghoon brought him an ice pack.”

Jake sighed dramatically. “Ah, to be in love and broken once every two weeks.”

The boys chuckled, resuming their breakfast, while in the far room, Sunghoon entered quietly, placing the tray on the bedside table.

Ni-ki blinked up at him sleepily, still curled under the blankets like a burrito.

“I brought food,” Sunghoon whispered. “Sit up, just a little?”

Ni-ki groaned softly but obeyed, flinching when he moved too fast.

Sunghoon helped him up with one hand behind his back, the other smoothing his hair.

“The others?” Ni-ki asked, voice low.

Sunghoon smiled, tucking the blanket around his waist. “They know.”

Ni-ki’s face turned red instantly.

Sunghoon kissed his forehead gently. “They always know. It’s become... a thing.”

Ni-ki let out a small, embarrassed whine.

Sunghoon laughed under his breath. “Eat up, baby. I’ll sit right here.”

And he did — quietly beside Ni-ki’s bed, watching him eat in small, slow bites, hand resting softly on his thigh like he’d never get tired of taking care of him.

---

The kitchen was filled with soft morning chatter and the clinking of utensils. The boys were halfway through breakfast, peacefully munching on toast and rice, when—

SMACK.

A sharp slapping sound echoed through the hallway.

Everyone froze.

“…Was that…?” Heeseung blinked, spoon midair. His ramyeon plopped down back to his bowl.

Before anyone could answer, Ni-ki’s voice rang out, muffled but loud enough to hear clearly through the thin dorm walls:

“DO YOU EVEN HAVE A BRAIN?!”

Sunoo choked on his tea.

Jungwon nearly dropped his chopsticks. “Oh no.”

“I SAID I CAN BARELY WALK!” came Ni-ki’s voice again, fiery and offended. “AND YOU THINK IT’S A GOOD IDEA TO SLAP MY BUTT?!”

Heeseung chocked on his kimchi.

Inside the room, Sunghoon’s voice came next, soft, pleading, panicking:

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! You were just—Riki, you looked so adorable waddling to the bathroom like a little penguin, I couldn’t resist—”

“A PENGUIN?!?” another slap.

The members in the kitchen burst out laughing.

Jay leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, smirking. “Called it. Round two of monthly Riki-recovery day.”

Sunoo had both hands over his mouth, eyes wide. “Oh my god, he’s gonna murder Sunghoon.”

Jake grinned ear to ear. “Honestly, who slaps someone’s butt when they’re already limping?”

Jungwon shook his head like a disappointed dad. “He had one job: apologize and behave.”

"I'm filing complain to the company." Heeseung shook his head and went to the sink.

Back in the room…

Ni-ki was practically trembling with rage, hair still messy, oversized sleep shirt falling off one shoulder as he stood beside the bed—barely. Every step to the bathroom earlier had been an ordeal, and now this?

Sunghoon knelt on the bed with both hands raised in surrender, lips pouting, trying not to laugh but failing miserably.

“You’re not even sorry!” Ni-ki accused, hitting his arm again with a pillow.

“I am! But come on, baby—you were waddling. Like—flop flop flop—tiny steps, arms swinging,” Sunghoon said, mimicking him with his hands. “It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Ni-ki whined, slapping the pillow at Sunghoon again. “You’re horrible! My body’s falling apart and you’re mocking me—!”

“I’ll give you a massage! I’ll carry you everywhere today. Just stop slapping me—ow!”

In the kitchen…

Jake imitated Ni-ki’s voice dramatically, “‘My body’s falling apart!’”

Jay snorted. “You’d think he just ran a marathon.”

Jungwon smiled fondly. “Honestly… I’m just glad Sunghoon’s doing all the work now.”

“He better,” Sunoo muttered. “After breaking our maknae every two weeks.”

They all laughed again, raising their cups in a mock toast.

“To post-chaos domestic life,” Jake said.

“And to Ni-ki,” Jay added, “for surviving another round with Park Sunghoon.”

Back in the room…

Ni-ki finally flopped back onto the bed, exhausted and red-faced, pulling the blanket over his head dramatically.

“I hate you.”

Sunghoon leaned over, gently tugging the blanket down to reveal his face.

“I love you.”

Ni-ki turned away quickly. “My breath’s gross.”

“I don’t care,” Sunghoon said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re mine, morning breath and all.”

Ni-ki didn’t say anything. But he didn’t push him away either.

Sunghoon smiled and pulled the blanket higher, wrapping his arms around him. “Now rest. I’ll carry you to the bathroom next time.”

“You better,” Ni-ki mumbled under his breath.

---

It's been 30 minutes since Sunghoon can be heard got tortured by his boyfriend. The others now still in the kitchen. Chatting and laughing about nonsense.

The hallway was quiet for a moment.

Then—

Tap.

Tap. Tap.

Soft, hesitant steps.

The kitchen fell silent.

Jake’s eyes lit up first. “He’s coming.”

Jungwon immediately nudged Sunoo, who was trying not to smirk. Jay calmly placed his chopsticks down with military precision, already preparing himself for the roast.

Heeseung didn't even try to hide his chuckle.

And then, like a tragic movie protagonist dragging the weight of betrayal behind him, Ni-ki appeared.

Hair slightly damp, oversized hoodie barely covering the suspiciously gentle way he walked, and that waddle. That infamous, delicate, tiny-step penguin waddle.

Jake choked back laughter, gripping Sunghoon’s shoulder for support. “Oh my God—he actually is waddling.”

"Like a penguin." Heeseung burst out laughing hard and smacked Jay on his back.

Ni-ki froze in the doorway.

Five pairs of eyes stared at him like a national event had arrived.

“Don’t,” he warned, voice low, deadly, but still adorably nasal from sleep.

Jay leaned in. “Maknae.”

“No.”

Sunoo smiled sweetly. “You look… well-rested.”

“Shut up.”

Jungwon gasped, “Did someone hurt our baby?” then glared at Sunghoon like an overprotective father. “You.”

Jake dropped his spoon dramatically. “This is child abuse.”

“I’M LITERALLY EIGHTEEN!” Ni-ki snapped.

"Whaddya mean, kid. You're nineteen." Heeseung lifted his eyebrow in mock.

Sunghoon, smug and proud, just entered behind him, carrying a tray of warm toast and tea. “He still ate breakfast in bed like a prince.”

Ni-ki whipped around. “You. Stop talking. Forever.”

He moved to sit and winced visibly as he lowered himself onto the chair, and that was all the members needed.

The kitchen erupted.

Jay clapped like he was at a festival. “There it is! The legendary limp!”

Jake leaned over the table, tears in his eyes from laughing. “Nooo, Ni-ki, the way you sat—bro—that was someone who's seen battle.”

Sunoo and Heeseung were red from holding in his laughter. “Poor chair.”

Ni-ki picked up a slice of toast. Held it. Considered throwing it.

“Why did I come out here,” he muttered under his breath. “I should’ve let Sunghoon feed me forever.”

“I offered to carry you!” Sunghoon beamed proudly.

“ISH, I swear to God,” Ni-ki said through gritted teeth, “I will break your kneecaps.”

“And then you’d really have to waddle together,” Jay quipped.

“THAT’S IT.”

Ni-ki stood up abruptly—then immediately sat back down with a wince, face crumpling in pain.

Silence.

“...I hate all of you.”

---

After Ni-ki’s dramatic sit-back-down and declaration of hatred, the members knew it was time to shift gears. Ni-ki wanted to eat again because he said eating in his room with Sunghoon watching feels like eating in prison with a warden watching.

Jay stood and placed a glass of orange juice in front of him like a peace offering. “Here. Freshly squeezed. Don’t stab me.”

Sunoo passed him a bowl of perfectly peeled fruit. “This doesn’t mean I like you.”

Jake gently slid over his favorite yogurt, all smiles. “You can hate us with a full stomach, baby.”

Ni-ki blinked, stunned by the sudden wave of offerings. “…Are you guys trying to bribe me?”

“Yes,” Jungwon said without hesitation. “Because if you stay mad at us, he’s going to be unbearable.”

He jerked his head toward Sunghoon, who was standing behind Ni-ki, gently massaging his shoulders and whispering:

“I’m sorry again. Please don’t sleep on the floor tonight. You can hit me again if you want, just don’t hate me…”

Sunoo gagged. “God. You two are disgusting.”

Jay sipped his coffee with a raised brow. “I told you, once they crossed that line, it was over for the rest of us.”

Jake looked at Ni-ki. “So. How bad was it really? Be honest. Scale of one to ‘I blacked out’?”

Ni-ki shot him a glare and muttered under his breath, “You have no idea.”

But despite the sass, Ni-ki stayed in his chair, quietly eating the fruit, yogurt, and toast that everyone had given him. His cheeks were pink, partly from embarrassment, partly from the sheer pampering.

Sunghoon hovered like a guilty puppy the whole time — adjusting his hoodie for him, tucking his hair behind his ear, holding his drink for every sip.

“I can drink myself, you know,” Ni-ki grumbled, lips brushing the straw.

“I know,” Sunghoon smiled, adoring. “But it’s cuter when I help.”

Jake fake gagged into his hands.

Sunoo covered his eyes. “I’m too young for this.”

Ni-ki tried to shove Sunghoon away but winced again, stiff from head to toe.

“Okay—nope—don’t move.” Sunghoon immediately crouched beside him, wrapping an arm protectively around his waist. “Stay still. I’ll do everything today. You just exist and be pretty.”

“Hyung, please stop being so clingy in front of them,” Ni-ki hissed, face burning.

“You say that, but you’re not letting go of my hand either.”

“...Shut up.”

"Here we go again." Heeseung rolled his eyes.

---

Later that day…

Ni-ki stayed on the couch with his legs propped up, a blanket over his lap, and a plate of snacks within arm’s reach. Every member passed by at some point to bring him something or check in.

Sunoo even adjusted the cushion behind his back without being asked. Ni-ki stared at him in shock.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Sunoo snapped. “You look pathetic.”

“...Thanks, I guess.”

Sunghoon stayed glued to his side the entire time — rubbing his calves, massaging his neck, brushing his hair softly. But every time Ni-ki so much as flinched from being touched, Sunghoon immediately pulled back with an “I’m sorry, sorry!”

But he didn’t last long.

That evening, while everyone was watching a movie, Ni-ki shifted and made a small noise under his breath. Sunghoon leaned in and kissed the corner of his jaw gently. He and his perverted piece of brain couldn't hold his hands to himself.

Jake threw a pillow at them.

“DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE?!” Jake cried.

“I wasn’t thinking anything, I—did something” Sunghoon said innocently.

Jay muttered, “He was absolutely thinking.”

Ni-ki rolled his eyes and hid behind his blanket. “I hate all of you.”

“You said that this morning too,” Jungwon said with a grin.

“And I meant it.”

But he smiled into his cup of tea anyway.

Chapter Text

1 2020

It was their first night as a debuted boy band , ENHYPEN. It's 2 AM and everyone was sleeping soundly tired of all the preparation they did to release their first album.

The dorm room was dim and quiet, filled with the steady breathing of seven sleeping boys. A soft breeze rustled the curtain, and the faint hum of a distant air conditioner blended into the silence. Three bunk beds lined the walls, one corner bed nestled near the window, and every blanket-covered lump was deep in sleep.

Except for one.

From the bottom bunk nearest the door, a small movement stirred. Ni-ki sat up slowly, his hair messy and sticking to his forehead, pajama shirt bunched at one shoulder. He looked around the room, eyes still heavy with sleep, but his face full of hesitation.

He slipped out of bed, carefully so his blanket didn’t fall off the mattress. Clutching a small plush in one hand, he padded barefoot toward the bunk at the far end where Jungwon was sleeping on the top.

Ni-ki reached up, grabbing the edge of the blanket hanging over the side.

He whispered, barely loud enough to hear.

“Hyung…”

No response.

He tugged the blanket gently.

“Hyung… Jungwon hyung…”

A muffled groan came from above. There was some rustling, then a sleepy face peeked over the edge—Jungwon, his eyes half-shut and hair flattened to one side.

“Riki?” he whispered, voice scratchy. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to go to the bathroom…” Ni-ki said softly, voice small. “Can you come with me?”

Jungwon blinked slowly, trying to process. “Now?”

Ni-ki nodded.

A deep sigh escaped Jungwon, but there was no annoyance—just sleepy affection. He sat up, rubbing his face before climbing down the ladder quietly.

“Did you drink cold water again right before bed?” he asked, grabbing a hoodie from the bedpost.

Ni-ki looked down guiltily. “A little…”

Jungwon smiled faintly, patting Ni-ki’s head.

“Let’s go then.”

The two tiptoed across the room like quiet shadows, careful not to wake the others. Jake was sprawled out on his back in the top bunk, mouth slightly open. Sunghoon’s legs were sticking out from his blanket, and Sunoo’s plush collection had fallen to the floor. Heeseung mumbled something in his sleep and turned over.

Once in the hallway, Jungwon turned on the flashlight on his phone and aimed it low.

“You know,” he whispered as they walked, “you ask a different hyung every week. Heeseung said last week was his turn.”

Ni-ki looked up at him sheepishly. “You’re the nicest when you wake up…”

Jungwon chuckled under his breath. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He waited outside the bathroom, leaning against the wall, arms folded and eyes blinking slowly. When Ni-ki returned, he automatically took Jungwon’s sleeve, and they walked back the same way—quiet, slow, and warm with the kind of comfort only trainees who lived together like family understood.

Back in the room, Ni-ki climbed into his bed again and looked up.

“Thank you, hyung.”

Jungwon gave him a small smile, already climbing back into his bunk.

“Sleep well, Riki.”

“Mm-hmm,” came the sleepy reply, already muffled by his blanket.

And in the soft darkness, seven future stars slept on—young, tired, dreaming. But in the middle of the night, the youngest had never felt more cared for.

-----

2 2021

It was a rare off-schedule evening, and the boys were out grocery shopping together. Beanies, masks, and oversized hoodies kept them semi-incognito, though the occasional glance from nearby shoppers reminded them that being ENHYPEN meant eyes were always on them.

Jake pushed the cart lazily, loading it with ramen, snacks, and three different brands of milk because no one could ever agree. Jay checked the list on his phone, occasionally telling Jake to “focus” or rolling his eyes when Jake added something they didn’t need.

Trailing behind them, Ni-ki clutched a bag of grapes and quietly eyed the store signs, lower lip tugged between his teeth.

“Hyung,” he mumbled, tugging on Jake’s sleeve.

Jake turned his head. “Hmm? What’s up, Riki?”

Ni-ki leaned in close. “I need to go to the bathroom…”

Jake straightened, looking around. “Now? Couldn't wait anymore till we done groceries?”

Ni-ki nodded silently, avoiding his gaze.

Jay, who had overheard, looked up from his phone. “It’s near the back, I think. Want me to take you?”

Ni-ki gave a hesitant nod, and Jake immediately steered the cart toward the direction of the restroom.

“I’ll come too,” he said, casually.

They left the cart by the noodle aisle and walked together, Ni-ki sandwiched in the middle. He held onto Jake’s hoodie, fingers curled into the fabric like a habit that never changed—even after standing under spotlights and hearing stadiums chant his name.

“Still not brave enough to go alone?” Jay teased gently, no edge in his voice.

Ni-ki shook his head. “Nope.”

Jake smiled, nudging him lightly. “It’s fine. You debuted at 15. You’re allowed to stick with your hyungs forever.”

Jay added, “Yeah. And we’ve been doing this since trainee days. It’d feel weird not going with you now.”

Ni-ki gave them a small grin, eyes crinkling.

At the restroom entrance, Jake waited outside while Jay leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

“You know,” Jay muttered to Jake, watching Ni-ki disappear inside, “some people would think it’s annoying.”

Jake looked at him, brows raised. “Do you?”

Jay scoffed. “No. He’s our youngest. It’s normal.”

Jake nodded. “He’s still a kid sometimes. Doesn’t matter if he’s performing in front of thousands.”

After a minute, Ni-ki came back out, drying his hands on a paper towel. Jake offered him a hand sanitizer bottle without a word, and Ni-ki took it, then quietly held onto both of their sleeves as they walked back.

No one said anything about it. No teasing. No questions.

Just three boys walking side by side, pretending they weren’t famous for a night, with two older brothers who would always, always wait.

----

3 2022

The air backstage was buzzing.

Hair dryers whirred, stylists adjusted collars and dabbed powder, managers paced with phones against their ears, and monitors flashed countdowns in bold red. ENHYPEN stood in a semi-circle, already in full stage gear — earpieces in, mics taped, shoes polished — just 20 minutes to go.

Ni-ki shifted on his feet, eyes darting around. He tugged lightly at his jacket sleeve, then looked up at the clock again.

He was silent for a moment.

Hesitated to ask help, scared if he's burdening anyone. But he couldn't wait any longer.

Then he turned and inched closer to Heeseung, who was calmly checking his in-ear pack by the corner.

“Hyung…” Ni-ki whispered, voice nearly swallowed by the backstage noise.

Heeseung looked over instantly. “Yeah?”

Ni-ki leaned in closer, keeping his voice low. “I'm sorry but I have to pee.”

Heeseung blinked, then blinked again. “Now?”

Ni-ki nodded, looking absolutely distressed. “Really bad.”

Heeseung chuckled under his breath, but it was affectionate. “You’ve been holding it?”

“I didn’t want to mess up my hair…” Ni-ki mumbled, genuinely conflicted. “And they were putting glitter on my eyes.”

Heeseung exhaled slowly through his nose, lips quirking upward.

“Okay, come on. I’ll take you,” he said, placing a steady hand on Ni-ki’s back as he guided him swiftly toward the side hallway, past makeup tables and racks of backup outfits.

A staff member started to speak up, “Heeseung-ssi—”

“We’ll be back in three minutes,” Heeseung said smoothly, not slowing down.

As they reached the bathroom, Ni-ki rushed in, muttering a soft “thank you,” while Heeseung leaned against the opposite wall, one earphone half out, fingers tapping lightly on his thigh in rhythm with their opening beat.

When Ni-ki returned, adjusting his belt and clearly trying not to look too embarrassed, Heeseung offered him a bottle of water.

“You good now?”

Ni-ki nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, hyung.”

Heeseung smiled, throwing an arm lightly around Ni-ki’s shoulder as they walked back. “Next time, don’t wait until your eyeballs are shaking. You’re allowed to go even if you have rhinestones on your face.”

Ni-ki laughed quietly, the tension slowly easing out of him.

Backstage was chaos again when they returned — the stage manager calling “FIFTEEN MINUTES,” lights flickering, someone yelling for Jay to retie his mic pack.

But Ni-ki, now a bit calmer, stood straighter. The nerves were still there, sure. But Heeseung was too — and somehow that made everything feel a little more manageable.

Right before the group walked to the stage lift, Heeseung leaned in.

“You’ve grown a lot, Riki. But you’ll always be our youngest. We’ve got you.”

Ni-ki smiled, eyes sharp with focus now.

“Let’s do this, hyung.”

----

4 2023

It was their 4th anniversary night, and Sunoo decided to stayed at home and had his own time for himself.

The dorm was unusually quiet.

Everyone else had gone out for a late dinner — something about craving barbecue and needing a break from the schedule. Sunoo, however, had opted for peace and skincare. He had a cooling sheet mask plastered on his face, a headband holding back his bangs, and a K-drama playing on his phone in front of him.

He lay on the living room couch like a princess in hibernation, completely relaxed.

Until—

“BOO!”

“AAAA—!”

Sunoo screamed, nearly flinging his phone across the room as a shadow suddenly popped up behind the couch. He bolted upright, eyes wide, the sheet mask slipping halfway off his cheek.

“Riki! What is WRONG with you?!”

Ni-ki burst into laughter, falling to his knees beside the couch, his head buried into a cushion as he wheezed. “I— I’m sorry— you looked so calm— I couldn’t help it!”

Sunoo stared at him, flabbergasted, breathing hard through his nose. “I almost DIED!”

Ni-ki wiped a tear from his eye and grinned sheepishly. “Okay, okay, sorry. But um… also…”

He leaned closer, suddenly serious.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

Sunoo blinked. “...And?”

Ni-ki looked around dramatically. “It’s dark. And the hallway’s quiet. And I think I saw something weird move earlier.”

Sunoo gave him a look. “You’re 17.”

Ni-ki looked back at him. “I’m 16 almost 17 and terrified.”

There was a long pause.

Then Sunoo sighed, peeled the rest of the mask off his face with one smooth motion, and got up.

“Fine. Let’s go, Your Majesty.”

Ni-ki beamed and latched onto his arm like a little kid. “Thanks, hyung. You're my favorite.”

“You say that to whoever agrees to take you,” Sunoo muttered, dragging his slippers along the floor.

They padded down the hallway together, Ni-ki sticking to Sunoo’s side like glue.

“Seriously, though,” Sunoo whispered, as they neared the bathroom. “Even after debut, even now— you’re still scared?”

Ni-ki replied simply, “The fame didn’t kill the fear.”

Sunoo snorted. “Unbelievable.”

After Ni-ki went in, Sunoo stood outside the door, arms crossed, shaking his head.

“I swear, if the others find out, you’re never living this down.”

Inside the bathroom, Ni-ki called back innocently, “They won’t if you love me enough to keep it a secret.”

“Ugh,” Sunoo groaned, “manipulation at its finest.”

But when Ni-ki emerged moments later, drying his hands and smiling, Sunoo only rolled his eyes and grabbed his arm again, leading him back to the couch.

And later, when the others came home and asked why Sunoo’s facial mask didn’t last the full 20 minutes, he just shrugged and said:

“Some horror movie broke in and asked for a toilet escort. I was too scared to refuse.”

Ni-ki grinned, completely unbothered.

----

5 2024

“Riki, lean your weight this way when you turn,” Sunghoon called, skating backwards with ease as Ni-ki trailed behind him. “You’ll glide smoother.”

“I am leaning!” Ni-ki huffed, wobbling slightly as he turned the corner, hoodie bouncing with each movement.

The rink was cold, almost empty except for a few casual skaters. They’d come out together during a short break in promotions — Sunghoon had been excited to show his favorite sport to Ni-ki properly, no cameras, no pressure. Just the two of them.

They’d been skating for nearly an hour now.

Sunghoon was graceful and calm, effortlessly twirling and gliding while Ni-ki stubbornly chased him, tongue poking out in concentration. But lately… Sunghoon had noticed something off.

Ni-ki had gotten quiet.

And he was shifting from one skate to another a little more than usual.

“Hey,” Sunghoon called as he circled back toward him, voice gentle. “You okay?”

Ni-ki glanced up quickly. “Mhm!”

A beat of silence.

“You cold?”

“No, I’m good!”

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes. “Riki.”

Living together for almost 4 years got Sunghoon alerted when and how Ni-ki usually was when he's spiraling something in his head.

“…What?” Ni-ki looked away, skating a little slower.

Sunghoon coasted beside him, voice lowering. “Do you need to take five? Or do you go to the bathroom?”

Ni-ki paused. Just enough for Sunghoon to know the answer.

“ Bathroom…Maybe,” Ni-ki muttered. “But I didn’t wanna say anything. We just got out here.”

Sunghoon sighed, but it was more amused than annoyed. “How long’ve you been holding it?”

“…Since we put on skates.”

Sunghoon nearly choked. “That was over an hour ago!”

“I thought I could wait!”

Sunghoon stopped them both and helped Ni-ki wobble off the rink and to the edge, guiding him toward the benches.

“You don’t have to wait, you know. You can tell me,” he said, beginning to unlace Ni-ki’s skates for him.

Ni-ki looked down, cheeks pink — and not from the cold. “It’s just kinda embarrassing. I’m already sixteen.”

“And I’m your hyung,” Sunghoon replied with a small smile. “That means I don’t care how old you are. If you gotta pee, you gotta pee.”

Ni-ki snorted softly. “You’re just saying that because I didn’t fall on my butt today.”

“Well, that is a plus,” Sunghoon joked, pulling the last skate off and handing Ni-ki his sneakers.

“Come on. Bathroom’s near the rental counter. Let’s go before you freeze into a penguin.”

As they walked off together, Sunghoon made sure to drape his scarf around both their necks — “Just in case you shiver your bladder into overdrive again,” he teased.

And Ni-ki, warm and cared for despite the chill, leaned into his side just a little more.

---

+6 2025

Jungwon blinked awake in the dark, instinct sharper than sleep. The dorm was quiet, heavy with the sound of deep breathing and the occasional shift of blankets.

It had been like this for years — a habit Jungwon had built back when they still shared a room with bunk beds and Ni-ki’s voice used to whisper out in the middle of the night: “Hyung… I need to pee…”

He had done it so often that Jungwon still woke up sometimes just to check.

Even now, years after debut, with each member having his own room, Jungwon’s body still moved on routine. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and stepped into the hallway. He never admitted it, but every few nights, he’d do a quiet patrol — peeking into each doorway, checking that everyone was safe, asleep, breathing.

He started with Jay. Peaceful.

Heeseung was sprawled diagonally, arm over his face.

Sunghoon had kicked his blanket halfway off again.

Jake’s dog was curled on his chest as he softly snored.

Sunoo’s fairy lights blinked softly. He was fast asleep, face half buried in a stuffed rabbit.

Then there was Ni-ki’s door.

Jungwon hesitated.

It was slightly open.

Not wide, not suspicious — but not how Ni-ki left it. The maknae always shut his door, saying it made him feel safer. Jungwon’s brows furrowed. He padded over and peered in.

The bed was empty.

His heart skipped.

“Ni-ki?” he whispered into the room.

No answer.

Panic bloomed in his chest, quiet but sharp.

He moved fast.

He didn’t yell — not yet. He checked the living room, the kitchen, the studio corner. The balcony door was locked, all shoes still lined up near the door. The world outside was still and dark. He checked the practice room next to the dorm, the laundry space, the utility closet. His feet were silent but his mind was loud.

Where is he?

He hadn’t heard the front door open. Ni-ki wouldn’t go outside alone. Not at night.

Unless something was wrong.

Unless—

Jungwon’s breath caught. He turned back toward the hallway and called, louder this time:

“Hyung!”

Jake’s door creaked open.

“What’s wrong?” Jake mumbled, eyes squinting.

“It’s Ni-ki. He’s not in his room.”

More doors opened. More sleepy voices.

Sunoo stepped out, a pink hairband still on his head. “What?”

“Is he in the bathroom?” Heeseung asked, rubbing his neck.

"He'll wake someone up if he's going to the bathroom. That's impossible if he's tin there." Sunghoon yawned and rubbed his sleepy eyes. Half awake.

“I checked everywhere else,” Jungwon replied, now clearly worried. “His room light was off. I don’t know how long he’s been gone.”

Jay had already turned on the hallway light.

Six heads now gathered. One missing.

Jake knocked on the bathroom door. “Ni-ki?”

There was a pause.

Then a sleepy, soft voice answered from inside.

“...Yeah?”

Every hyung in the hallway froze.

Jungwon blinked. “You’re… in the bathroom?”

“Yeah,” Ni-ki answered again, muffled through the door. “I just finished. One sec.”

He emerged a few seconds later in a hoodie and pajama pants, hair ruffled from sleep. He looked… confused.

“Why are you all up?”

They stared at him.

Sunghoon was the first to find his voice. “You went to the bathroom… alone?”

Ni-ki paused. “Yeah. Why?”

A beat of silence.

“You’ve never done that before,” Sunoo muttered.

Jake added, “At least not at night. Not since ILAND. Not even once.”

Heeseung leaned against the wall, arms crossed but mouth slightly open. “You used to knock on someone’s door every time.”

Jay furrowed his brow, staring at him like he was seeing Ni-ki for the first time.

Ni-ki scratched the back of his neck. “I was gonna wake someone up. I actually stood outside Jungwon’s door for like a minute.”

Jungwon blinked. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Ni-ki said, glancing over. “But then I thought... I’m 19. It’s just a hallway. So I tried to do it myself.”

Another pause.

Then Sunoo gasped. “Wait. This is the first time you’ve gone alone?”

Ni-ki gave a sheepish shrug. “...Yeah.”

It hit the room like a soft, delayed wave.

The youngest — the baby who used to beg with big eyes, who once made Heeseung leave hair dye on mid-process, who used to hold Jake’s sleeve and hide behind Sunghoon, who scared Sunoo during his face mask just to be escorted — had gone on his own.

Grown up, quietly.

They all stood there, struck with the oddest mix of pride and sadness.

Because it meant something. It meant a part of Ni-ki’s childhood had finally… closed.

Jungwon felt it most.

He didn’t know whether to smile or tear up.

He stepped forward first and patted Ni-ki’s head gently.

“I would’ve gone with you,” he said softly. “You still can wake me, you know.”

Ni-ki’s eyes softened. “I know.”

Jake ruffled his hair. “Now I’m sad. Who’s gonna tug my shirt in the middle of the night again?”

“You mean your limited edition shirt that he stained with tears at a rest stop bathroom in 2021?” Jay smirked.

“Hey,” Ni-ki pouted, “I was emotional and there was a spider!”

Everyone chuckled, the tension broken, but the warmth stayed.

Heeseung tilted his head. “Well, I guess this is it. Ni-ki’s final evolution.”

“No more midnight escorts,” Sunghoon sighed dramatically.

“I’ll plan a ceremony,” Sunoo muttered. “With candles. And a baby photo slideshow.”

Ni-ki rolled his eyes but his smile betrayed him. “You’re all so dramatic.”

“You’re our baby,” Heeseung said quietly. “Let us be.”

Jungwon met Ni-ki’s eyes, a thousand memories behind his gaze.

“Still proud of you.”

Ni-ki’s smile lingered longer this time.

“Thanks, hyung.”

The hallway emptied slowly after that. One by one, they shuffled back into their rooms — sleepy, a little sentimental, and quietly changed.

Jungwon lingered last, watching Ni-ki step into his room and close the door.

He exhaled.

Ni-ki had grown up.

But somehow… he’d never felt more like their little brother.