MORE than a FAN || Beomjun/Yeongyu

Almost, Maybe, Never

The moment was slipping away.

He knew it the second Yeonjun turned toward him, casual and unbothered like it was just another goodbye. Like this hadn't been the most surreal, disorienting day of Beomgyu's life.

He stood there, hands shoved in the pocket of his hoodie, clenching air.

He should say something. Anything. Something real. Something stupid. Something that didn't feel like it would fall flat between them.

But Yeonjun was already smiling. Already too close. Already tipping his head and grinning in that flirty, familiar way he always did.

"You better not ghost me after this," Yeonjun said, teasing. "I know I was a bit selfish for not telling you beforehand, you're still my fan, right?"

That word again.

Beomgyu forced a laugh. "Unfortunately."

Yeonjun laughed back, easy and amused. "Good," he said. "Means you're stuck with me."

It wasn't fair how effortlessly he could say that.

Because Beomgyu was stuck. Stuck in the haze of this boy's attention, this impossible closeness that felt like something—only to be reminded that to Yeonjun, he was still just a fan. One with a name now, sure. One with banter. But still just someone in the audience.

Not beside him. Not with him.

Their manager called again, sharper this time.

Yeonjun gave him one last glance. It was softer now, a little quieter around the edges. "Bye, Gyu."

And then he turned away.

Beomgyu didn't stop him.

He didn't say goodbye.

Beomgyu's POV

The second Yeonjun stepped away, Beomgyu felt the quiet hit harder than it should've.

He wasn't supposed to feel this hollow. He wasn't supposed to be this affected by a casual goodbye, or the lingering echo of a voice that still rang in his ears.

He stared at the space where Yeonjun had stood just seconds ago.

Gone. Just like that.

And maybe it was the leftover adrenaline from the whole surreal day. Maybe it was how close Yeonjun had gotten. How comfortably he'd smiled. How stupidly soft his eyes had looked when he said, "You're stuck with me."

But something inside Beomgyu shifted—tightened like a knot in his stomach.

This wasn't just fan-like anymore.

It hadn't been for a while.

Beomgyu sank onto the nearest bench as the TXT van pulled away, the air suddenly colder without them. Without him.

He rubbed his hands over his face and tried to breathe through it. But no amount of logic helped.

It wasn't the giddiness of seeing your favorite idol. Not the excitement of being noticed. Not even the thrill of private DMs or secret flirting.

It was deeper than that.

It was how Yeonjun made him feel like he mattered—like Beomgyu wasn't just another name in a sea of usernames, but someone worth remembering.

And that... scared him.

Because if it was more than admiration... if it was something real—then he was setting himself up to fall for someone completely out of reach.