Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bang Chan’s apartment was serene, typical of late nights—his PC tower softly humming, distant city sounds filtering through cracked windows, and the familiar loop of lo-fi music playing as he began his streams. It was a comforting ritual that eased the weight of the world.

“Evening, Den,” he greeted, his voice warm yet slightly weary. “We’re keeping it chill tonight. Just a few games and some chatting.”

The chat exploded with overlapping greetings. Chan’s eyes instinctively scanned, picking out familiar usernames like stars in the night sky.

And there it was.

JinnieSketches: Hi Chan! Long day but happy to be here.

Chan smiled, almost instinctively. Jinnie had been a constant presence—quiet, kind, and thoughtful—making the chat feel safe.

He quickly typed a response but switched to voice instead. “Glad you’re here, Jinnie. Hope today wasn’t too rough.”

A simple statement, but the chat took notice. They always did.
For Hyunjin, Chan’s streams had woven into his life like comforting background music. He watched while cooking, studying, or sketching late into the night. But tonight, he had his sketchbook open, pencil behind his ear, decompressing after a long day at his art program. Chan’s voice was always grounding.

When Chan read his message aloud, Hyunjin paused mid-sketch, pencil suspended. Hearing his username from Chan startled him, causing a blush.

He shook his head. Just a stream. Get a grip. Yet, he found himself listening more intently.

An hour in, Chan stretched, cracking his neck. “You know, I haven’t done a viewer game in a while…”

The chat erupted—excitement, requests, chaos. Chan chuckled, rubbing his forehead. “Okay, okay—maybe just a couple rounds. Nothing too intense. Just for fun.”

Hyunjin felt a nervous flutter. He had never played with Chan, preferring to support from the sidelines. But seeing the chat flood with join requests, he typed without much thought:

JinnieSketches: If you still need players, I can hop in… but only if you’re okay with someone terrible at aiming

Immediately, regret washed over him. He wasn’t one to draw attention. But it was too late now.

Chan’s gaze landed on the message on his second monitor, and he smiled—a soft, fond smile.

“Jinnie,” he said, his voice warm and teasing, “you’ve been here supporting every stream for months. Of course you can join. Get in here.”

Hyunjin blinked at the screen. Did Chan sound… pleased?
A nervous laugh escaped him as he accepted the invite. When the request to join voice chat appeared, he hesitated.

But Chan added gently, “Only if you want to, yeah? No pressure.”
That made a difference. So, Hyunjin clicked “Join Voice.”
An awkward silence filled the call as both waited for the other to speak.

“…Hi,” Hyunjin finally said, his voice softer than intended.
Chan blinked, surprised by the softness. “Oh. Hey. It’s nice to finally hear your voice.”

“Sorry,” Hyunjin blurted, flustered. “I’m not used to… this.”

“You’re totally fine,” Chan reassured him, gentle and calming.

“We’ll take it slow.”

Slow. Hyunjin liked that.

Their first match wasn’t perfect, but it felt comfortable. Hyunjin played cautiously, not wanting to disappoint. Chan noticed immediately.

“You don’t have to apologize for missing shots,” he murmured after Hyunjin whispered a soft “sorry.” “This is supposed to be fun. Just breathe with me, yeah?”

Hyunjin nodded. “Okay.”

The chat flooded with emotional emojis. As the match progressed, a subtle rhythm developed—Chan adapted to Hyunjin’s pace, and Hyunjin relaxed into Chan’s steadiness.

It wasn’t flashy or chaotic. It just… fit.

Mid-match, Chan glanced at the chat and chuckled. “Jinnie, everyone’s obsessed with you,” he teased.

Hyunjin gasped. “Why?”

“It’s just… me.”

Chan leaned back, smiling at nothing. “I think ‘just you’ might be why.”

Hyunjin froze, warmth spreading beneath his skin. Chan didn’t push, allowing the silence to linger as they continued the match.
That was when Hyunjin felt himself fall a little deeper—not into romance, but into trust.

After a few matches, Chan cleared his throat. “Alright, Den. I think that’s it for tonight. But before I go…”

His smile softened. “Thanks for making the stream cozy. Especially you, Jinnie.”

Hyunjin’s heart raced. Chan ended the stream, but the voice chat remained open. For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Chan quietly asked, “If you’re not too tired… do you want to play one more?”

Hyunjin didn’t hesitate. “…Yeah,” he whispered. “I’d like that.”
And they queued again—no chat, no audience, no pressure. Just two people slowly discovering the shape of each other’s presence.

Chapter Text

Chan went live on a tranquil evening, his voice melding with the gentle hum of his room as lo-fi music played softly beneath his greeting.

“Evening, Den. Hope everyone’s doing okay today.”

His tone was relaxed, but a hint of nervousness lingered. Hyunjin noticed it immediately; he had a knack for picking up on subtle changes. The chat welcomed Chan as usual, playfully teasing him about looking tired or cozy. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Yet, Chan kept glancing at the chat box more frequently than usual. Hyunjin wondered if he was perhaps waiting for something. He dismissed the thought until he saw it:

JinnieSketches: Evening Chan. Hope today went well.

Chan read it, and a slight ease settled in his shoulders.

“Ah—Jinnie, hey,” he said with a faint smile. “Good to see you here.”

He sounded casual, but Hyunjin felt a warmth deep within.

About an hour into the stream, after some solo games, Chan paused before speaking again.

“So… uh… if anyone wants to join for a couple rounds, I think I’m up for it tonight.”

The chat responded with mild enthusiasm, recognizing that Chan rarely invited viewers to play.

Hyunjin hesitated to type. He didn’t want to overstep. But then Chan spoke again, his tone softer:

“Jinnie, if you’re free — you can hop in too, if you want.”

It was an invitation, not a command.

Hyunjin’s heartbeat quickened, but he kept his message steady.

JinnieSketches: Sure. I can play for a bit.

Chan’s smile was small but evident.

“Cool. Sending the invite.”

When Hyunjin joined the call, he stayed quiet at first, waiting for Chan to set the tone. A moment passed before Chan said softly,

“Hey.”

Hyunjin replied just as quietly.

“Hi.”

There was no rush, just a simple greeting shared between two people growing comfortable.

The game loaded, and the silence felt settled, not empty. Their gameplay was unflashy, marked by small gestures: Chan adjusting his route when Hyunjin lagged, and Hyunjin calmly calling out enemies, grounding Chan.

Chat noticed their synergy.

you two play well together
good communication tbh
jinnie sounds calmer this time

Chan chuckled softly, his mic crackling.

“Yeah, he does,” he said, realizing he had spoken aloud.

Hyunjin blinked. “Oh—um. I’m trying not to overthink things this time.”

“That’s good,” Chan replied. “I like this pace.”

His tone was casual, but Hyunjin felt the weight of the words.

“Okay,” he responded softly.

It wasn’t shipping, just observation.

chan’s voice goes super soft when he talks to jinnie lol
it’s cute how patient you two are
you should play together more often

Chan didn’t blush but ducked his head slightly, a subconscious gesture.

“That’s just how I talk,” he said lightly, but his smile hinted at something more.

Hyunjin stayed focused on the game, calming Chan further.

During their third game, Hyunjin warned, “Chan… someone’s flanking you. Left side.”

Chan reacted swiftly, surviving with one hit point left. Chat sent impressed messages, but Chan was focused.

“Nice call,” he murmured. “You saved me there.”

Hyunjin laughed softly. “Just watching your back.”

Chan paused, his cursor stilling for a moment.

“…Thanks,” he said quietly.

Chat noticed, but gently.

that was sweet
lil teamwork moment (platonically)
aw you guys are comfortable now

Chan exhaled, amused.
“Relax, guys. We’re just playing.”

Hyunjin quietly didn’t contradict him.

After a few rounds, Chan leaned back. “Alright, Den. I think that’s all for tonight.”

He hesitated. “Thanks for playing with me, Jinnie. Always nice having you.”

It was sincere, not dramatic or romantic.

Hyunjin smiled, unseen. “Yeah. I enjoyed it.”

Chan ended the stream with a soft “Goodnight, everyone.” The screen went offline, but the voice chat remained connected.

Neither spoke immediately, not out of awkwardness, but because they didn’t feel the need to rush.

Eventually, Chan’s quiet voice broke the silence. “…Wanna do one more? No pressure.”

Hyunjin replied just as softly. “Sure.”

They queued again, not for content or the chat, but simply because it felt easy — and easy things were rare.

Chapter Text

Hyunjin seldom missed Chan’s streams. It wasn't out of obligation, but because those moments offered a rare sense of calm amidst the chaos of life. However, tonight was different. Felix had insisted on a “mental health break cocktail night,” and Han arrived with enough chaotic energy to light up a city block. So, Hyunjin let himself be pulled along — hoodie, rings, messy half-tied bun. He wasn’t particularly social, but he wasn’t unhappy either.

The bar they chose was small, dim, and warm, a place where conversations flowed quietly over soft music. Hyunjin sipped his drink while Felix chatted with the bartender and Han animatedly told a story with wildly inaccurate gestures. It felt good. Simple. Normal. Until his phone buzzed.

A DM. From Twitch. No, not Twitch. From Chan.

Chan: Hey Jinnie, everything okay? Missed you in chat tonight.

Just that. Nothing dramatic. Nothing heavy. But Hyunjin froze. Felix, always observant, paused mid-sip.

“Hyunjin?” he asked gently. “You look like someone just got dumped.”

Han leaned over. “Or like someone texted you that they like your vibe. Which is it?”

Hyunjin swallowed, staring at the notification. “…It’s just— it’s Chan,” he said, his voice too soft to be casual.

Both Felix and Han went still. Then:

“Oh. My. God.” Han whispered, eyes wide. Felix blinked slowly. “Chan… as in the streamer you enjoy?”

Hyunjin’s ears turned warm. “I don’t— I don’t like— I mean, I enjoy his streams—”

Felix raised an eyebrow in a gentle challenge. “Hyunjin. You’re blushing.”

Hyunjin covered his face with one hand. “It’s just— he noticed I wasn’t there. That’s all.”

“That’s not ‘that’s all,’” Han said, leaning closer. “Do you know how many streamers notice when someone’s missing? Zero. Negative zero. That man is looking for you.”

Felix nodded thoughtfully. “That seems… very intentional.”

Hyunjin felt a small, quiet fluster — not overwhelmed, just warm. A little shaken. He finally unlocked his phone and typed back.

Jinnie: I’m okay! Sorry I wasn’t there today. I’m out with friends. I’ll catch the next one.

He stared at it for a moment before hitting send. Felix watched him, chin resting on his hand. “You typed, deleted, retyped, then checked for typos. That’s a crush.”

Hyunjin groaned. “Stop.”

Han grinned. “Never.”

Chan sat in his chair, legs bouncing with the leftover adrenaline from a finished stream. He wasn’t sure why he had messaged Hyunjin. He told himself it was just because Jinnie was a regular — part of the community — someone who always made the chat feel calm. But he knew it was more than that. Just enough that he felt the absence.

When Hyunjin’s reply popped up, Chan exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders. Hyunjin was okay. Out with friends. Living his life. Chan smiled softly at his screen.

Chan: No worries at all. Just checking in. Hope you’re having fun.

He hesitated before sending it, wondering if it sounded too caring. But… he did care. In ways he couldn’t quite explain.

Hyunjin’s phone buzzed again. He glanced at the message and froze for the second time that night.

Felix leaned in. “…Is that him again?”

Hyunjin nodded slowly. Han wiggled his eyebrows. “What did he say? Is he proposing? Confessing eternal devotion? Sending emojis??”

Hyunjin read the message aloud without thinking. “He said… ‘Just checking in. Hope you’re having fun.’”

Felix’s eyes softened with fond amusement. “Hyunjin. Sweetheart. He’s… kind of worried about you.”

Han pointed dramatically. “This is emotional intimacy. This is dangerous.”

Hyunjin’s cheeks warmed, subtle but real. “I mean… it’s nice,” he murmured. “Unexpected.”

Felix smiled knowingly. “You’re allowed to enjoy it, you know.”

Hyunjin stared at the message again. The warmth in his chest felt gentle. Quiet. Not overwhelming — just present. He typed back.

Jinnie: Yeah. It is fun. I hope you had a good stream too.

Chan responded almost immediately.

Chan: It was good. Just felt a little different without you around. No pressure! Just saying.

Hyunjin’s breath caught. Not because it was bold — it wasn’t. Not because it was romantic — it wasn’t that either. But because it was honest, and Chan rarely said personal things so plainly.

Felix noticed the shift in Hyunjin’s eyes. “What did he say?”

Hyunjin hesitated before answering quietly: “He said the stream felt different without me.”

Han slapped the table. “OH HE LIKES YOU—”

“Han,” Felix warned. But even he was smiling.

Hyunjin didn’t respond right away. His fingers hovered, unsure of the right tone. He didn’t want to overthink it. Finally, he typed:

Jinnie: I’ll be there next time.

It wasn’t a promise. Not a declaration. Just a quiet acknowledgment that Chan’s words mattered. Even to him.

Chan read the message and let out a soft, relieved exhale. He didn’t screenshot it. He didn’t save it. He didn’t overthink it out loud. But he leaned back in his chair and smiled to himself — small, subtle, impossible to hide.

“Yeah,” he whispered to the empty room, “I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

By the time Hyunjin arrived home, the apartment was peacefully quiet. He kicked off his shoes, took off his hoodie, and flopped onto his bed with a sigh.

He checked his phone and saw Chan was live.

Noticing the time, he realized he hadn’t missed much. After the kind messages and gentle check-ins from the previous night, he felt a strong urge to join in.

Opening Twitch, he felt his heart lighten as Chan’s face appeared on the screen, softly lit by LED lights.

“Evening, Den,” Chan greeted. “Just warming up. Nothing too wild tonight.”

JinnieSketches: Hi Chan. Made it home just in time.

Chan spotted the message immediately, his smile widening—genuine and open.

“Oh hey, Jinnie,” he said, sounding relieved. “Good to see you.”

The chat teased lightly, but Hyunjin felt relaxed, sinking back into his pillows.

After a moment, Chan cleared his throat. “If you’re free… I saved a viewer slot again. Want to play?”

Hyunjin's heart swelled at the invitation.

He typed:

JinnieSketches: Sure. Send invite.

Chan nodded toward the screen as if Hyunjin could see him. “Inviting now.”

Hyunjin donned his headset and joined the voice chat. “...Hi,” he said softly.

“Hey,” Chan replied warmly. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

They queued up. The silence was comfortable, a sign of their growing connection. Their playstyles synced seamlessly—calm and efficient. Chan anticipated Hyunjin’s moves, and Hyunjin responded to Chan’s calls with precision.

No drama, just small moments of trust building on familiarity.

The chat enjoyed the cozy vibe until two new subscriber notifications popped up.

New Subscriber: hanSpillsEverywhere

New Subscriber: SunshineLixie

Hyunjin froze mid-action. Chan blinked. “Oh—uh, welcome to the Den. Thanks for the subs, guys.”

Then the subscription messages came in:

hanSpillsEverywhere: hi chan. we’re here to supervise.

SunshineLixie: protecting our boy :)

Hyunjin groaned softly and buried his face in his hands.

Chan noticed. “Jinnie?” he asked, amusement in his voice. “You okay?”

Hyunjin muttered, “I’m going to kill them.”

Chan chuckled—a warm sound that filled Hyunjin’s headset. “So those are the famous friends?”

Hyunjin sighed. “Yes.”

“They subscribed?”

“Yes.”

“They’re… supervising?”

“Apparently.”

Chan laughed softly, fondly. “That’s… kind of sweet, actually.”

Hyunjin nearly choked. “No. They’re menaces.”

“Sweet menaces,” Chan corrected.

Hyunjin groaned again, dragging a hand down his face.

The chat loved it:

we love supportive chaotic friends
lixie and han welcome to the family
jinnie’s embarrassed it’s adorable

Hyunjin sighed into his mic, “Oh my god.”

Chan smiled at the sound.

As they played, Han and Felix sent harmless teasing messages:

SunshineLixie: he’s concentrating rly hard rn <3

hanSpillsEverywhere: chan do good. we approve so far.

Chan tried not to laugh.

Hyunjin whispered, mortified, “I’m blocking both of them.”

“Don’t. They’re fun,” Chan replied softly.

Hyunjin hesitated. “…You think so?”

“Yeah,” Chan said gently. “I think they care about you a lot.”

Hyunjin felt warmth spread beneath his skin—soft but noticeable. “…They do,” he murmured.

Chan hummed in agreement, his voice low and warm.

Hyunjin swallowed. It shouldn’t have felt significant, but it did.

During the match, Hyunjin calmly warned, “Left side.”

Chan reacted instantly, surviving. “Nice,” he murmured. “Playing with you is… easier.”

Hyunjin paused for a heartbeat. “…Same,” he whispered.

The chat didn’t explode, but gentle messages rolled in:

they sync so well
this vibe is cozy man
lixie: they’re cute when they focus
han: agreed.

Chan rubbed at the corner of his mouth, hiding a smile.

After a couple of matches, Chan leaned back. “Alright, Den. That’s it for tonight. Thanks for hanging out.”

He added softly, “And thanks for playing with me again, Jinnie.”

Hyunjin exhaled—a quiet breath he didn’t mean for the mic to catch. “…Yeah,” he said. “I liked it.”

Chan’s smile, though unseen, was audible. “Goodnight, guys. See you later.”

He ended the stream, but neither left the call.

A few seconds passed—soft and almost fragile.

Then Chan spoke, voice quieter: “…Your friends are welcome anytime, you know.”

Hyunjin groaned softly. “Please don’t encourage them.”

Chan laughed quietly. “Sorry. Can’t help it.”

Hyunjin’s cheeks warmed again.

Chan added, slow and genuine: “I… like when you’re here.”

Not a confession. Just truth.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched. “…Me too.”

A comfortable silence settled between them—small, warm, and growing.

Chapter Text

Hyunjin had become used to joining Chan’s streams, sometimes just to watch or lurk without speaking. It brought him comfort.

As Chan began his stream that evening, Hyunjin settled into bed with his sketchbook, ready to listen.

“Evening, Den,” Chan said softly. “It’ll be a short stream today; someone’s coming over soon.”

Hyunjin paused.

Someone… coming over?

A roommate? A friend?

He pushed the thought aside and focused on drawing, trying not to dwell on it.

Chan played a few warm-up rounds, chatting with viewers while Hyunjin kept mostly quiet, responding only occasionally.

Then there was a knock off-camera — a soft thud followed by a familiar voice.

“Chan? You still streaming?”

Hyunjin’s pencil stopped.

He recognized that voice. Everyone did.

Lee Minho.

Chan laughed and turned in his chair. “Minho-yah, hey. Come in.”

Minho appeared shortly after, wearing a loose hoodie and a playful smirk.

“So this is the famous Den,” he said, leaning over to wave at the camera.

The chat went wild.

MINHO HELLO???
CHAN AND MINHO DUO LET’S GOOO
they look so comfortable omg

Chan nudged Minho’s shoulder. “Behave, dude,” he said with a smile.

Minho chuckled. “I always behave.”

“Right,” Chan replied. “That’s why I had to bribe you with food to come over.”

“You said we were hanging out,” Minho corrected, settling on the arm of Chan’s chair.

“You also said dinner. Which makes it a date. Food equals date.”

Chan rolled his eyes. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep.”

But he didn’t deny it or clarify it wasn’t that kind of date.

And Hyunjin felt a heaviness in his chest.

The chat loved their banter and closeness, but with each moment, Hyunjin’s heart sank.

He knew he had no right to feel this way.

Chan was just a streamer, a friend, someone with a full life outside their late-night chats. Minho clearly mattered to him — someone Chan made time for.

Hyunjin typed a polite message:

JinnieSketches: Hope you two have fun tonight. I’m heading out for a bit.

Chan noticed immediately.

“Oh—Jinnie? You’re leaving already?”

Hyunjin hesitated before replying:

JinnieSketches: Yeah. Long day. Enjoy your evening.

Chan’s expression showed he wanted to say more, but Minho nudged him, drawing him back into conversation.

“Okay. Uh—night, Jinnie,” Chan said, his tone not cold but lacking the warmth Hyunjin was used to.

It felt like the tone used when someone leaves mid-conversation.

He shouldn’t have expected anything different.

Still… he closed the stream.

For the first time, he didn’t DM Chan afterward.

After the stream, Minho stretched. “Good stream. Your chat is wild.”

Chan smiled absentmindedly. “Yeah… they’re funny.”

Minho tilted his head. “You okay?”

Chan blinked. “Yeah?”

“You seemed… off for a minute back there.”

Chan furrowed his brows, recalling Jinnie’s sudden departure.

“Just… Jinnie said he was leaving,” Chan murmured. “He usually stays.”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “Oh. Is he a mod or something?”

“No,” Chan replied quietly. “Just someone who’s been around a lot.”

Minho studied him for a moment before smirking. “You’re weirdly bothered.”

Chan opened his mouth to respond but then closed it.

Minho clapped him on the back. “Text him later,” he suggested.

Chan didn’t reply, but the thought lingered.

The next day, Chan streamed again.

Hyunjin saw the notification but didn’t click it.

He told himself it was fine — Chan had Minho. He didn’t need to hover. If Chan was dating Minho, pulling back was the right choice.

He placed his phone face-down.

But ten minutes after the stream, Chan’s DM arrived.

Chan: Hey. Everything okay? Missed you today.

Hyunjin exhaled slowly, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

He didn’t know what to say or how to feel.

The distance had settled between them, thin but clear.

And Chan felt it too.

Chapter Text

Hyunjin didn’t think he was acting differently. He still showed up to class, the familiar routine comforting in its predictability. He still sketched late at night, pencil gliding over paper as he lost himself in his art. He still laughed at Felix’s awful jokes, the sound of his laughter echoing in the small apartment, and groaned at Han’s loud reactions, which were always over the top and impossible to ignore. He just… didn’t talk about Chan. Didn’t mention streams, those once-cherished moments of connection. Didn’t check Twitch in front of anyone, the app now feeling like a painful reminder. Didn’t smile at his phone the way he used to, the joy replaced by an unsettling emptiness.

He thought he was hiding it well, putting on a brave face for his friends. He wasn’t. On the third day of Hyunjin quietly withdrawing into himself, Felix leaned over the back of the couch where Hyunjin was curled up with his tablet, the glow of the screen illuminating his furrowed brow. “Jinnie,” he said gently, concern lacing his voice, “you wanna go out for dinner? You’ve barely eaten today.” Han poked his head in from the kitchen, his expression a mix of curiosity and worry. “Yeah, ramen night. You can’t say no,” he added, trying to coax Hyunjin out of his shell.

Hyunjin blinked up at them, feeling the weight of their concern. Going out sounded exhausting, a daunting task that required energy he didn’t have. But staying home meant more spiraling into thoughts he couldn’t escape. “…Okay,” he murmured, the word barely escaping his lips.

Felix smiled softly and ruffled his hair, the gesture both comforting and grounding. “Good. Let’s go.” The place was cozy, warm, and smelled like broth and garlic — the kind of comfort you could inhale deeply, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. Hyunjin sat between Felix and Han, stirring his ramen absently while the two chatted animatedly about some ridiculous thing they saw online. He nodded in the right places, smiled when they expected him to… But he wasn’t really there, his mind drifting elsewhere.

Felix noticed first, his perceptive nature picking up on the subtle changes in Hyunjin’s demeanor. Han noticed second, his instincts telling him something was off. Both exchanged a quiet glance over Hyunjin’s head, a silent communication that something was wrong. Something had happened. And then — Hyunjin’s phone buzzed, cutting through the momentary silence.

Hyunjin didn’t have to look to know what it was. He knew Chan’s stream notification tone instantly — low, distinct, a sound he’d become intimately familiar with in the quiet moments of his day, a sound that used to bring him joy. The screen lit up: BangChanTV is live: “Chill night with The Den 🤍” Hyunjin’s breath caught — just slightly — then he did something Felix and Han had never seen him do. He clicked the notification away without opening it.

Felix froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. Han nearly dropped his chopsticks, the clatter breaking the tension. “Okay,” Han said slowly, his voice taking on a sharp clarity that demanded attention. “Explain.”

Hyunjin blinked, startled by the sudden focus on him. “…Explain what?” he replied, confusion clouding his thoughts. Felix set his chopsticks down carefully, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. “Hyunjin. You didn’t open Chan’s stream.”

“That’s… not a big deal,” he replied, trying to downplay the situation. Felix raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You open it even when you’re in the shower,” he pointed out, his tone teasing but serious. Han pointed dramatically, his expression a mix of concern and disbelief. “You open it faster than you open the door for food delivery.”

Hyunjin sighed, shoulders drooping under the weight of their scrutiny. “It’s not— I just didn’t feel like it today.” Felix and Han shared another look, a silent agreement passing between them. Then Felix leaned in, soft but unyielding, his voice low. “Hyunjin… what happened?”

Hyunjin looked down at his bowl, the noodles swirling in a vague pattern. Nothing came out at first, the words stuck in his throat. Then, quietly, he whispered, “...Chan’s dating Minho.”

Both Felix and Han blinked, processing the information. Han was the first to recover, his voice rising in shock. “I’m sorry—WHAT?” Felix put a hand on Hyunjin’s arm, grounding him. “Who told you that?”

Hyunjin swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. “No one. I… saw Minho on stream. They were talking. And Minho said it was a date. And Chan didn’t deny it.”

Felix processed that, his mind racing through the implications. Han processed it louder, disbelief coloring his tone. “Please tell me you didn’t just Ghost of Christmas Past yourself out of this man’s life because MINHO made a joke.”

Hyunjin’s head snapped up, confusion etched on his face. “…A joke?”

Felix sighed softly, shaking his head as if trying to dispel the misunderstanding. “Hyunjin. Minho calls everything a date. Coffee, grocery shopping, tax appointments. He calls me his date sometimes.”

Han nodded fiercely, his expression earnest. “And Chan didn’t say they were dating. He just didn’t explain because he was mid-stream and Minho was stealing the spotlight like the chaotic raccoon he is.”

Hyunjin blinked, replaying that moment in his head, trying to dissect the interactions. The ease between them, Minho’s teasing tone, Chan rolling his eyes and smiling fondly — He used to smile like that at Hyunjin too. The ache in his chest tightened, a familiar pain he thought he had buried deep.

“I just… I didn’t want to get between that,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “They seemed close. Really close.”

Felix leaned in, his tone soft but firm, trying to penetrate the fog of Hyunjin’s thoughts. “Hyunjin. Chan has a lot of close friends.”

Han chimed in, his voice steady. “But he only checks his phone for one person during streams.”

Hyunjin froze, the realization hitting him like a wave. Felix rested a hand over his, the warmth grounding him. “He messaged you both nights you didn’t show up.”

Hyunjin’s breath trembled, the weight of those words sinking in. “…He did.”

“And you didn’t answer,” Felix pointed out gently, his concern evident.

Hyunjin nodded weakly, the guilt washing over him. “I didn’t want to make it weird. I thought he had someone.”

Felix squeezed his hand, his grip reassuring. “Jinnie… he thought you were okay.”

Han jumped in, eyebrows raised, urgency in his voice. “And now he’s probably confused as hell.”

Hyunjin shut his eyes, the weight of the truth crashing down on him. He hadn’t thought of that part. Hadn’t let himself. He thought distance would protect whatever had been forming between them. Instead, it just left everything aching and uncertain, a chasm of unspoken words and missed opportunities.

Felix tapped Hyunjin’s phone gently, breaking the silence. “You don’t have to join the stream if it’s too much right now.”

Han nodded, his expression earnest. “But you do need to talk to him.”

Hyunjin swallowed, the question hanging in the air. “What… what would I even say?”

Felix smiled gently, his eyes filled with understanding. “The truth. Or at least… your part of it.”

Han leaned in, a playful glint in his eye. “And maybe start with: ‘I’m alive, I promise.’ He’s probably pacing right now.”

Hyunjin let out a shaky laugh — small, fragile, real. The sound felt foreign yet comforting. He picked up his phone, the stream still live, the familiar notification staring back at him. And for the first time in days, he didn’t swipe the notification away. He hovered, heart racing, took a breath, and clicked.