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Keonho was sprawled across his bed, lazily scrolling through his phone while trying—and failing—not to smile at the flood of edits filling his timeline. Tonight’s live had gone way too well. Another win for the album, another encore, another night of coers completely losing their minds over them. Honestly, he still couldn’t fully process how loved they were sometimes.
Across the room, Martin was already dead asleep, snoring loud enough to shake the walls, while James fixed the sleeves of Martin's hoodie that he borrowed near the doorway.
“I’m heading to the practice room for a bit,” James said. “The choreography still needs polishing.”
Keonho barely looked up from his phone. “Don’t die.”
“Can’t promise that.”
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the room quiet except for Martin’s snoring and the occasional sound of Keonho laughing under his breath.
At first, everything felt warm. Comfortable. Then his thumb paused mid-scroll and his smile slowly disappeared from his face.
“Marhoon ultimate couple fr.”
“THE tension between them hello???”
“Juhoon and Martin are so suspicious lately.”
Keonho stared at the screen for a long moment before slowly sitting up, blanket pooling around his lap. His jaw tightened almost immediately.
Of course.
He should’ve expected this already.
Martin flirted with everyone because he found reactions funny, and Juhoon naturally matched people’s energy. Fans loved that kind of dynamic. The company loved it too. Shipping culture practically carried half the fandom engagement these days, and honestly, the members were already used to feeding into it here and there.
Still.
Something about tonight bothered him more than usual. Maybe because he knew how much attention those edits got compared to his. Without thinking too much, Keonho searched up his and his favorite hyung's ship name—Dalkkomi.
Immediately, regret settled in his chest.
At first it was harmless—cute compilations, edits of him clinging to Juhoon during backstage lives, clips of him feeding Juhoon, babying him despite being younger, following him around like a lost puppy.
Then came the comments.
"Keonho’s literally Juhoon’s baby brother."
"They’re so sibling coded omg."
"Juhoon raised Keonho himself."
His jaw tightened.
The more he scrolled, the worse it got.
The microphone incident where he leaned over Juhoon to test his mic. The way he unconsciously used a softer voice only around him. The countless moments where he instinctively hovered near Juhoon during interviews. Even the stupid “ME N U” incident was apparently “little brother behavior.”
Little brother.
Keonho physically grimaced.
Because no.
No, that definitely was not what he wanted.
The realization alone made his stomach twist unpleasantly.
He locked his phone abruptly before tossing it onto the bed beside him. Martin remained dead asleep, completely unaware of the crisis happening three feet away.
Keonho groaned quietly into his hands.
“This is so unfair,” he muttered.
How come everyone saw chemistry between Juhoon and Martin from two seconds of eye contact, but somehow his obvious favoritism got reduced to sibling behavior?
He knew he was being dramatic.
Didn’t stop him from feeling bitter anyway.
A few minutes later, he was already outside their room, hoodie sleeves pushed over his hands as he walked through the dim hallway. Near the entrance, Seonghyeon was slipping on his shoes.
“I’m heading out,” he said casually. “We’re out of ramen again.”
Keonho only hummed.
Seonghyeon paused briefly after noticing the sour expression the younger wore. “…you good?”
“Yeah.”
That answer was so fake it almost made Seonghyeon laugh, but he left anyway.
The second the door shut, Keonho turned toward Juhoon and James’ room.
He didn’t bother knocking.
Juhoon was curled up on his bed, scrolling through TikTok with the most relaxed expression Keonho had seen all day. His hair was slightly messy, blanket half wrapped around his waist, and the soft glow from his phone made him look unfairly pretty for someone doing absolutely nothing.
The irritation in Keonho’s chest immediately softened.
Juhoon glanced up the moment he heard the door open. The second he realized it was Keonho, his shoulders visibly relaxed again.
Without a word, Keonho climbed onto the bed beside him and wrapped his arms around Juhoon’s waist from behind, burying his face into the older’s shoulder dramatically.
Juhoon blinked once.
Then snorted softly.
“You look miserable.”
No response.
Definitely serious, then.
Juhoon locked his phone before turning slightly in his hold, just enough to see Keonho’s face. His lips were pushed into the deepest pout imaginable.
“You look like a fish.”
Keonho only frowned harder.
“Oh,” Juhoon laughed softly, his deep voice prominent. “Something definitely happened.”
Still no response.
Juhoon’s expression softened immediately after. “Keonho.”
A quiet hum answered him.
“What’s wrong?”
Silence stretched for a few seconds before Keonho sighed heavily against his shoulder.
“Hyung.”
“Mhm?”
“…do I seem like a younger brother?”
“Well,” Juhoon said carefully, “you are the youngest.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Juhoon blinked slowly.
“What?”
Keonho finally lifted his head, visibly annoyed now. “To coers. Do I seriously just look like your younger brother?”
Realization crossed Juhoon’s face almost immediately.
“…you searched edits again.”
Keonho looked away.
That alone confirmed it.
Juhoon tried so hard not to laugh.
“I’m serious,” Keonho muttered. “How come people think you and Martin-hyung are secretly dating from breathing next to each other, but everything I do becomes ‘awww sibling behavior’?”
The more he talked, the more genuinely upset he sounded.
“I literally feed you during lives. I follow you everywhere. I don’t even like physical touch that much with other people.”
“You absolutely do.”
“Not like this.”, Keonho gestured as he wrapped his arms tighter against his hyung's waist.
Juhoon finally turned properly toward him now, amusement lingering in his eyes.
“…are you jealous?”
Keonho froze.
Then immediately buried his face into Juhoon’s shoulder again with the most offended noise possible.
Juhoon burst out laughing.
“You are.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
“I’m serious, hyung.”
“I know.”
That answer came softer.
Gentler.
Juhoon shifted properly to face him now, one hand lifting to cup Keonho’s cheek while his thumb brushed slowly against warm skin.
“You know why coers see us that way?” he asked quietly.
Keonho avoided his gaze.
“Because you act spoiled around me all the time. You cling to me constantly. You sulk whenever I ignore you for five minutes.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to be your little brother.”
“I know.”
Again.
Too fast.
Too certain.
Keonho finally looked at him properly.
Juhoon held his gaze steadily, though something softer lingered behind his eyes now.
“Brothers or even friends don’t look at each other the way you look at me,” he said softly.
Keonho’s breath caught.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Warmer.
“And honestly,” Juhoon continued, fingers tracing slow circles against his wrist now, “I think coers are just blind sometimes.”
Keonho blinked. “What does that mean?”
Juhoon leaned closer.
Close enough for Keonho to feel his breath against his lips.
“It means,” he murmured softly, “nothing about this feels brotherly to me.”
Keonho genuinely short-circuited.
“Hyung…”
Juhoon laughed quietly at the crack in his voice. “So sensitive.”
“Don’t tease me right now.”
“Why?” Juhoon murmured softly. “You started this.”
Before Keonho could answer, Juhoon slid a hand behind his neck and pulled him down.
The kiss started soft.
Slow.
Almost hesitant.
Like Juhoon was giving him room to pull away if he wanted to.
Keonho only melted further into him.
One of his hands slid against Juhoon’s waist instinctively, pulling him closer while kissing him back harder this time, deeper, months of restraint bleeding through every movement.
Juhoon made the quietest sound against his lips.
That nearly killed him.
“There you are,” Juhoon whispered breathlessly when Keonho chased another kiss immediately after.
Keonho groaned softly against his mouth, forehead pressing against his.
“You have no idea how long I wanted this, hyung.”
Juhoon’s fingers slipped gently into his hair. “I think I do.”
The younger kissed him again before Juhoon could say anything else.
And this time it lingered.
Slow kisses quickly turned messy. Keonho hovered over him carefully, one arm planted beside Juhoon’s head while the other remained firm around his waist possessively, like he physically couldn’t stop touching him now that he finally could.
Juhoon fit against him too perfectly.
Too warm.
Too soft.
Everytime Keonho kissed deeper, Juhoon’s breathing faltered even more, his fingers tightening against the fabric of his shirt while soft and low moans escaped his lips.
“Keonho,” Juhoon breathed quietly.
The sound of his name in that low voice almost made him lose his mind.
“Hm?”
“You’re staring.”
“You’re pretty.”
Juhoon immediately looked away, ears turning pink.
Keonho smiled against his lips. “There’s my shy hyung.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
Juhoon narrowed his eyes before grabbing him by the collar and kissing him first this time.
Keonho nearly collapsed on top of him.
The older kissed slower but far crueler, like he knew exactly what he was doing to him. Keonho’s hand slipped beneath Juhoon’s shirt instinctively, thumb brushing warm skin near his waist as fingers traced paths towards his chest, earning a small breathy whimper from the older.
Dangerous.
That sound was dangerous.
“Careful,” Juhoon whispered against his lips, slightly breathless now. “Someone could walk in.”
“I locked the door.”
Juhoon blinked once.
“…when?”
“Before I laid down.”
That finally made Juhoon laugh softly against his mouth.
“You’re insane.”
“But you like me.”
Juhoon looked at him quietly for a moment before answering honestly.
“I do.”
That alone softened Keonho completely.
The kisses after that became quieter.
Softer.
More intimate than desperate now.
Eventually Keonho buried his face into Juhoon’s neck while the older lazily ran his fingers through his hair.
“I’m still jealous,” Keonho muttered.
Juhoon hummed sleepily. “You’ll survive.”
“No.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“But you love me anyway.”
“…unfortunately.”
Keonho grinned against his skin before eventually falling asleep still wrapped around him.
Hours later, the dorm door clicked open.
Seonghyeon entered first carrying several ramen bags while James stumbled in behind him, exhausted after practice.
“I swear if Martin eats my shin ramyun agai—”
James stopped mid-sentence.
He frowned toward his and Juhoon’s room.
“…why is the door locked?”
Seonghyeon blinked. “What?”
James twisted the knob again.
Locked.
“Who locked our room?”
That immediately felt suspicious because Juhoon literally never locked doors.
James started patting down his pockets frantically. “Wait, where’s the spare key?”
Seonghyeon snorted. “Why are you panicking?”
“Because something weird is happening.”
James checked the kitchen drawer first.
Nothing.
Then the counter tray.
Still nothing.
Seonghyeon casually joked, “Maybe Keonho kidnapped him.”
James slowly froze.
Then both of them stared at the locked door simultaneously.
“…oh my god.”
The final spare key was hanging near the fridge.
James grabbed it first and unlocked the door carefully.
Then immediately recoiled.
Keonho was practically wrapped around Juhoon in his sleep, face buried into the older’s neck while Juhoon remained tucked securely against him, one arm instinctively around Keonho’s waist.
Neither of them looked remotely platonic.
James whipped around violently.
“SEONGHYEON.”
The other hurried over before immediately slapping a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing too loudly.
Meanwhile, Keonho unconsciously tightened his hold in his sleep, pulling Juhoon even closer.
James wheezed.
“No fucking way.”
Seonghyeon was already pulling out his phone.
Click.
Another click.
Then another.
“Coers would combust if they saw this,” James whispered in horror.
Seonghyeon grinned while locking his phone.
“Nah,” he whispered back. “This one stays in the vault.”