Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The light from Wonjin’s laptop screen illuminated the shadows under his eyes, flickering in quiet contrast against the dark dorm room. The air was still except from the soft hum of his fan and the occasional laughter drifting in from the living room, where Minhee and Serim were losing yet another round of Mario Kart.

Wonjin couldn’t join them. Not tonight. Maybe not for a while.

He sat cross legged on his bed, wearing an old hoodie that smelled faintly of lavender laundry detergent and the pineapple shampoo Seongmin used. It wasn’t Wonjin’s hoodie, but he didn’t want to return it. Not yet.

The cursor blinked in the empty search bar.

He’d typed and deleted something like twelve different versions of the same phrase:

“am i gay?”
“how do i know if i like my best friend?”
“lgbt anonymous chatroom”
“how to stop thinking about someone you live with?”

His breath became shallow. Every key he pressed felt like a risk, but keeping everything locked up was worse.

He hit enter.

After a few links, one caught his eye

The Den - A safe space for quiet minds and loud hearts.

It was clean, simple, no ads, no rainbow banners screaming “WE’RE HERE FOR YOU!” Just a quiet forum with a few pinned threads and a modest number of users. Something about it made him feel safe.

He created a profile.

Username: PaperLantern
Pronouns: he/him
Bio: none. not yet.

He hovered over the welcome forum. His heart was pounding.

PaperLantern:
hi. i’m not out. i don’t even know if i’m something …
maybe i might just be confused. but lately, it’s been like
… theres this person, and i think about him all the time.
its starting to scare me. he’s my best friend. we live
together. he has no idea. i don’t want to lose him.
i don’t even know what i want. is this normal? am
i broken? sorry for dumping all this. i just needed to
put it somewhere.

He stared at the message. For a minute he wanted to close the tab and delete everything.

Instead, he clicked “post.”

Across the dorm, Seongmin sat in the kitchen, noise cancelling headphones on, scrolling through mod alerts on his laptop. A hot chocolate beside him, the sweet taste helping him to focus. He didn’t expect anything new tonight. The Den had been quiet lately, a small but steady community he’d started two years ago, anonymously, no one in his life knew.

Not even Wonjin.

At first, it was meant to be a personal journal. Then he opened it up, adding message boards, kept it clean and anonymous and safe. A place for people like him. People who needed time. Space. A voice without a face.

Tonight, a new post appeared.

New User: PaperLantern

The name was new. Seongmin clicked it, automatically prepared to offer a soft welcome.

He didn’t get past the third sentence before his stomach twisted.

“he’s my best friend. we live together. he has no idea.”

The words were careful, vague, and anonymous, but Seongmin knew.

The rhythm of the typing. The lowercase i’s. The specific way the feelings were wrapped in apology. It read like Wonjin. It was Wonjin.

He sat up straight, heart thudding in his chest like a ticking clock.

He almost closed the tab, taking a sip from his hot chocolate to gain the courage to reply.

He opened the admin panel, switched accounts from “Admin” to his anonymous mod persona: Sunglow.

Sunglow:
hi paperlantern.
first - no, you’re not broken. you’re a human being feeling
something huge and complicated. that doesn’t make you
weak or wrong. being scared makes sense, the stakes
feel high when it’s someone you care about, but
whatever you’re feeling - it’s real, and you’re allowed
to feel it. you don’t have to figure it all out tonight. just
know that you’re not alone anymore.

He stared at the message. Should he say more? Should he let it be?

He typed one more sentence.

i’m really glad you posted. we’re here when you’re ready.

Then hit send.

Wonjin didn’t expect a reply, not this soon, definitely one that felt… warm. Thoughtful.

He reread the message twice, then again.

There was something familiar about the tone. Gentle but grounded. He felt like he’d heard words like that before, maybe when he’d had a bad day, or when he forgot how to breathe after having a panic attack.

PaperLantern:
thanks. i didn’t expect a reply this quickly. ive been
holding it in for months. its like i want to tell him, but
i also want to never speak it out loud. he’s so kind. if
i told him, i think he’d try to understand. but i don’t want
his kindness, i want him. thats the part i can’t say to
anyone but you.

Seongmin’s hand shook on the keyboard. He wanted to crawl through the screen and hold him. He wanted to type: it’s me. i’m here, and if you want me too, you already have me.

He couldn’t. Instead he typed something slower. Softer.

Sunglow:
you’re brave for saying that. it’s okay to want more
than kindness, it doesn’t make you selfish. sometimes
we fall for the people who make us feel safest. it makes
sense that you would want to keep him close. just
remember, you deserve to be loved back.

He didn’t sign it. Didn’t say anything else. It was time for bed.

Later that night, Taeyoung peeked into the shared kitchen and found Wonjin sitting alone with a cup of tea.

“Hyung, did you eat?” He asked, casually tossing a packet of cookies on the table.

“Wasn’t hungry.” Wonjin responded, voice hollow.

“You okay hyung?”

Wonjin nodded too quickly.

From the hallway, as they were heading to bed, Minhee shouted something about rematching Serim. Hyeongjun was brushing his teeth. Allen was lecturing Jungmo about something to do with their assignments.

Everything was normal.

Except him.

Wonjin pulled the hoodie tighter around him. Lavender and pineapple. Seongmin.

He didn’t know if he’d ever feel normal again.

Chapter Text

The next night, the rain didn’t plan on stopping. It beat softly against the dorm windows, a dull, rhythmic hush that made the entire place feel smaller than usual. Minhee was playing soft music in the kitchen whilst doing dishes. Jungmo and Serim were arguing about whether cats or dogs made better emotional support animals. Hyeongjun was asleep with his face in a text book. Allen, Taeyoung and Woobin sharing a tub of ice cream.

Seongmin sat on the couch, fingers curled around a cup of tea he hadn’t taken a sip of in over an hour. The laptop screen glowed in front of him. The Den message board open.

PaperLantern had posted again.

PaperLantern:
is it stupid that i keep looking for signs?
like, the way he looks at me sometimes …
its soft, like he sees me. but other times he’s just
being him. playful. kind. and i can’t tell if it means
anything, i feel like i’m trying to read love into
things that aren’t there.

Seongmin bit his lip, his stomach twisted painfully. He knew exactly what look Wonjin meant. He had looked at him that way, Seongmin remembered every second of it. The soft pauses, the quiet smiles, the small glances that lasted longer than they should’ve. He had also remembered the way he had stared back, always careful not to be too obvious, always terrified or reading too much into himself.

He replied without even switching accounts this time, just pure instinct.

Sunglow:
you’re not stupid. you’re hopeful. it’s easy to
fall into the habit of second guessing your heart
when you’ve had to hide it for so long. the truth is,
people do look at the ones they love differently, and
sometimes … the person on the other end is scared
too. so maybe you’re both reading signs and
pretending they’re nothing.

The moment he sent it, he leaned back again the couch and let his eyes close.

He couldn’t help it anymore. He wanted this to be real, for both of them.

About an hour later, Wonjin read the reply in silence, chest rising and falling under the covers, his laptop balanced on his knees. The room was dark, lit by only the glow of the desk lamp. Seongmin was already in bed across the room, one leg draped off the mattress, arm curled beneath his cheek like a cat. It didn’t feel fair, how soft he looked like that, how close and far he always was.

Wonjin closed the laptop gently, turning towards the wall and tucking himself deeper under the blanket. He wondered how someone online could understand him so perfectly. He wondered why their words felt like echoes of things Seongmin had never said out loud - but would.

The next morning Minhee groaned, dragging himself into the shared kitchen, hair still damp from his shower. “You’re seriously making breakfast again? You’re ruining the mystery. You can’t be hot and competent.”

Seongmin ignored him and flipped the last pancake onto a plate.

Wonjin sat at the kitchen table, chin resting on his palm as he watched Seongmin move around the space. His hoodie sleeves were pulled up, exposing pale forearms. His hair was slightly messy from sleep, and his eyes were still a little puffy. He had barely slept.

“I’m just keeping you all alive.” Seongmin replied with a smile. “If I left it up to you guys, you’d be eating ramen for the rest of your lives.”

“Don’t pretend like that’s not a dream life.” Hyeongjun chuckled, joining them in the kitchen.

Wonjin laughed softly and Seongmin looked over at him, smiling wider when their eyes met. It was casual, friendly, but something lit in Wonjin’s chest. He could still hear Sunglow’s words in his head.

maybe you’re both reading signs and pretending they're nothing.

Later that night, Wonjin sat on the couch, knees pulled up, headphones in but not playing anything. He just needed the illusion of a distraction.

He opened The Den again and typed slowly.

PaperLantern:
i think he touched my hand on purpose today.
maybe it was nothing. but it stayed in my skin for
hours. i don’t know how to keep acting like this is
just friendship. i feel like i’m holding my breath
around him all the time.

He hit post, just seconds passed before the reply came.

Sunglow:
that feeling, that warmth staying with you, it’s real.
don’t talk yourself out of what your heart knows just
becuase your brain’s scared. sometimes, silence
is just fear dressed up as protection. but protection
from what? if he’s as kind as you say … maybe it’s
time to let him see you. the whole you.

Wonjin stared at the message.

He typed, then deleted.

Then typed again.

PaperLantern:
i don’t think i’m brave enough. but i so want
to be. sometimes i think he already knows.
and he’s just waiting for me to say it.

That night, Wonjin couldn’t sleep again. He shifted in his bed, turning over. The room was still. Seongmin had dosed off hours ago, earbuds in, blanket kicked half off. His face was turned towards Wonjin, peaceful. Wonjin watched him for a long time, eyes tracing the slope of his nose, the softness in his lips, the way his hair curled slightly at the edge of his forehead.

He remembered when they first became roomates, when Seongmin had accidentally called him “Wonnie” in his sleep and then denied it for days.

His chest ached. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold it all in.

Without thinking, he whispered into the silence.

“Min… do you ever think about me differently?”

Seongmin didn’t stir, but the weight of the truth curled in the air between them, unanswered.

The following morning, the dorm was quiet. A few of the guys had gone out for the weekend - Serim to visit family, Allen and Minhee to a film screening, Taeyoung dragged Woobin and Hyeongjun to the music room. The shared space felt lighter, like the air could finally stretch wider.

Seongmin was in the living room, curled under a blanket with his laptop on his thighs. Wonjin joined him without a word, holding two mugs, one plain green and one cracked with a faded cherry blossom pattern Seongmin always used. He handed it over, Seongmin smiled softly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then, unexpectedly, Wonjin spoke.

“Do you believe people can fall in love without realising it?” he asked, voice barely above a murmur.

Seongmin’s heart jumped. He didn’t look up from the screen. “Yeah. I think sometimes people fall slowly. Quietly, like rain soaking through a shirt, you don’t feel it until you’re already soaked.”

Wonjin stared at him, something raw in his gaze.

“I think I’m soaked.” he said.

Seongmin’s throat went dry, he looked up.

Their eyes met. The air changed, something thick and unspoken swelled between them, like both of them were standing at the edge of a cliff they hadn’t realised they had climbed.

Wonjin blinked first. “Sorry. That was… weird.”

“No,” Seongmin said quickly. “It wasn’t.”

They didn’t say anything after that, but their knees stayed touching.

For the first time in weeks, Wonjin didn’t open his laptop that night.

He didn’t need to.

Chapter Text

It started with a storm.

Not a metaphor, an actual thunderstorm that rattled the windows and flickered the lights just after 9pm. The guys who hadn’t gone out were already holed up in their rooms. Hyeongjun was cursing at a dying phone battery, and Taeyoung had jumped so hard at the thunder he spilled his drink all over Minhee’s homework.

Wonjin was curled up on their shared couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, watching the lightning dance in the sky outside. The rain drummed against the glass in a constant rhythm. He hadn’t opened ‘The Den’ all day.

It felt strange, quiet.
Not bad.
Just like something had shifted.

Seongmin entered the room with two cups of hot chocolate, setting one beside Wonjin wordlessly and then folding himself into the other side of the couch, tucking his legs under him.

They sat in silence for a while.

Then Wonjin turned slightly, voice low. “You always know what I need.”

Seongmin didn’t smile, but his eyes were soft. “I pay attention.”

That made Wonjin’s stomach twist, because Seongmin did pay attention - he always had, even before Wonjin had figured out what these feelings were, he’d known that.

“You don’t ask for things.” Seongmin added, quieter. “So I try to give you the ones you won’t say out loud.”

Their eyes met.

Thunder cracked again and the lights flickered.

Wonjin exhaled slowly. “I keep thinking about that thing you said, about being soaked.”

Seongmin’s lips parted, caught off guard.

“I feel like … I didn’t notice until it was too late.” Wonjin whispered. “And now I’m drowning.”

A pause.

Seongmin reached forward, brushing Wonjin’s fingers where they rested against the mug. His touch was featherlight, barely anything, but it jolted through Wonjin like static.

“I’m here.” Seongmin murmured. “If you’re drowning.”

The air went still. Neither of them moved for a long second. Then, Wonjin sat the mug down, slower than necessary, like he was trying to delay the inevitable. Seongmin’s hand stayed on his.

When Wonjin finally turned his palm to lace their fingers together, it was like a silent confession. Seongmin’s breath caught. Their hands fit too easily, like the shape had been waiting for this.

The silence thickened.

Wonjin leaned in just slightly, enough that their foreheads nearly touched.

His voice trembled. “Min, if I told you something. Something kind of huge. Would you still be here tomorrow?”

Seongmin’s heart thudded in his chest. He wanted to say yes, he wanted to say always.

Instead, he whispered. “Try me.”

Wonjin’s eyes dropped to Seongmin’s lips for just a heartbeat. Then, lightning flashed again and suddenly the power blinked off, plunging them into darkness.

Neither of them moved.
Not even to break the closeness.

They sat there, hands tangled, breath mingling in the dark, the air vibrating with everything they weren’t quite saying yet.

Even after the lights came back, almost an hour later, Wonjin didn’t instantly pull away.

The storm had passed. The others were back to bickering, music starting up in someone’s room, but the couch still felt like a world of its own.

Seongmin rubbed his thumb across the back of Wonjin’s hand, barely thinking about it.

Wonjin smiled. “Thank you.” He said softly.

“For what?”

“For seeing me.”

Seongmin’s stomach twisted.
It wasn’t fair.
Wonjin was thanking him for something Sunglow had done.

Later that night, Wonjin couldn’t sleep. Not after that. He sat crossed legged on his bed, typing into the dark glow of his screen.

PaperLantern:
we were sitting so close. and he didn’t pull away.
we held hands.
he touched me like it meant something.
but i still can’t say it. i can’t tell him i’m in love with him.

Seongmin’s chest tightened from across the room as the message appeared on his phone.

He was still logged in.
Still Sunglow.

He wanted to log out, walk over, say it to his face, kiss him.
He couldn’t, not yet.

So he typed:

Sunglow:
sometimes words are heavier than actions.
but your hearts already talking, lantern.
and he’s listening.
maybe he just needs you to trust that silence can
hold it too.

The next morning, Wonjin watched Seongmin make coffee. Just watched. There was something about his shoulders, the quiet way he moved, how he hummed under his breath like he was trying not to think too loudly.

Wonjin wanted to tell him everything.

He wanted to say, ‘I think I fell in love with you when you cried watching that dumb documentary, or maybe when you laughed at my worst jokes, or maybe when you held my hand and didn’t ask why I was shaking.’

Instead, he said “You good?”

Seongmin looked up, blinking. “Yeah, I just didn’t sleep much.”

“Me neither.”

Their eyes met and something lingered there.
Mutual.
Warm.
Terrified.