Don't tell Soobin | Yeongyu / Beomjun

wrong room, right bruise

It was just a dumb trend.
Change outfits with your best friend, film it, post it. That's all Soobin had in mind.

"Change in my room," Soobin said, tossing Beomgyu a hoodie. "Hyung's not home."

Famous. Last. Words.

Beomgyu walked into Yeonjun's room with no idea that a pair of very tired, very annoyed eyes were already watching from the bed.

Yeonjun, headphones in, door slightly ajar, had come home early. And very silently.

So when Beomgyu turned around, half-shirtless, fumbling with the hoodie and humming to himself—
Yeonjun didn't say a word.
Not until Beomgyu's hands slid down to his waistband.

"Comfortable?" Yeonjun said flatly.

Beomgyu jumped so hard he hit the dresser. "HOLY—what the—what are you—WHY are you here?!"

Yeonjun sat up slowly, like a threat. "This is my room. Question is, why are you stripping in it?"

Beomgyu's cheeks flushed so violently it reached his collarbones. "Soobin said—he thought—you weren't—!"

"Oh," Yeonjun said, standing now, towering. "So you just waltzed in and took your shirt off? Without knocking?"
He took a slow step closer.
"And now you're blushing like I haven't seen you shirtless at the pool before."

"That's different!" Beomgyu squeaked. "That was daylight and chlorinated!"

Yeonjun's grin was dangerous. "So what is this, Beomgyu?"

A beat of silence.

"You're in my room," Yeonjun whispered. "Half-dressed. Flushed. Shaking."

Beomgyu opened his mouth. Closed it. Took one slow step back.

Yeonjun leaned down, so close his breath grazed Beomgyu's cheek.

And then—

"Hey, you done changing—WAIT."
Soobin's voice echoed from the hallway.

Yeonjun pulled back instantly.
Beomgyu shoved the hoodie on like his life depended on it.

Soobin opened the door, smiling. "You good?"
Beomgyu smiled back. Shaky. "Y-Yeah. Totally. Perfect."

Yeonjun winked behind Soobin's back.

Beomgyu didn't sleep that night.