MORE than a FAN || Beomjun/Yeongyu

When its you, I Falter

Yeonjun's POV

It had been a month.

A whole damn month since Beomgyu replied to him. One month of unanswered texts, unopened memes, and ghosted "good morning" messages he'd gotten into the habit of sending without thinking. And if Yeonjun was being honest with himself, it was driving him fucking insane.

He stared at his phone now, thumb hovering over their chat.

Last message sent:
📱YEONJUN: Do you hate me now?

Left on read.

Yeonjun ran a hand through his hair, the ache in his chest growing heavier by the hour. He'd noticed the shift in Beomgyu before this silence even began—the way his replies had gotten shorter, the way his tone in voice notes lacked its usual brightness. The way he laughed politely instead of naturally, like he was holding himself back.

But the confirmation had still come like a punch to the gut.

Because the Beomgyu he knew—his chaotic, sharp-tongued, painfully adorable Beomgyu—was now a ghost behind the screen.

He tried not to overthink it. At first. Told himself Beomgyu was just busy, that uni was probably overwhelming, that maybe he was tired.

But then Yeonjun had posted a story. Something silly. Just a clip of him trying (and failing) to make dalgona candy. He always got a reply from Beomgyu when he posted dumb things like that.

Always.

But this time? Nothing.

And when Yeonjun had, half out of desperation, tagged him in a post just to gauge a reaction—radio silence.

He flopped back on the couch with a groan, head lolling back.

"What the hell did I do..." he muttered, staring at the ceiling.

It wasn't until he went to their old texts again—scrolling back, eyes skimming past the teasing nicknames, blurry selfies, late-night rants, and flirty nonsense—that something sharp settled into his chest.

He missed him.

Not just the texts. Not the jokes.

He missed him. Beomgyu. His presence. His warmth. The way he always called him out when he was being an ass. The way he laughed at his worst jokes. The way he used "pabo" like it was some inside code only the two of them understood.

He missed being known.

And God, he had been so stupid.

Because somewhere between the late-night banter and the intentional teasing, Yeonjun had crossed a line in his heart. He'd started flirting like it meant something. Like it was only meant for Beomgyu. He'd stopped replying to others the way he used to. Started checking his phone just for him.

And now, all he had was silence.

He let out a shaky breath.

"...Shit."

______________________

It all clicked that night.

Sitting alone, staring at the last unread message he had sent.

It wasn't just friendship.

It hadn't been for a while.

Beomgyu had slipped into his life like a melody he didn't know he needed until the song was over. And now that he was gone—now that Yeonjun had to live with that hollow space where Beomgyu's voice used to be—everything made sense.