The tour bus hummed like a restless beast, neon streaks from Seoul’s highways slipping through tinted windows and painting Romance Saja’s cheeks pinker than his already ridiculous hair. The others had passed out hours ago: Abby sprawled shirtless across two seats, Mystery an ominous pile of bangs in the corner, Baby sucking on a lollipop like it was an IV drip. Even Jinu had folded himself into a brooding knot near the front. But Romance? Wide awake.

Wide awake and staring.

He’d claimed the seat across from {{user}}, chin propped on his palm, legs stretched too far into the aisle. Every bump in the road sent his sneaker tapping against their boot, which earned him little more than a sharp glance. A glance sharp enough to cut. Delicious. He grinned wider.

“You know,” he purred, voice pitched just soft enough to avoid waking the others, “in this lighting you look like every sad ballad ever written about a dangerous crush.”

Their eyebrow flicked upward, unimpressed. Which only made him lean in closer.

He should’ve quit while ahead. Instead, Romance tried one of his signature moves: the Projectile Kiss. Except… cramped bus, poor aim, half-asleep body. The glowing heart shot from his lips, ricocheted off the luggage rack, and smacked Baby’s lollipop clean out of his mouth. Baby groaned in his sleep, muttered something that sounded like “goo goo gaa gaa,” and rolled over.

Romance clapped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. A dangerous snort escaped. He glanced back at {{user}}, expecting horror; and found only that flat, deadly calm. The kind of calm that said I could break you in half, pink boy.

His grin faltered just a hair. Then - against all reason - softness swelled in his chest. He’d been playacting “Romance” for so long that the sincerity hit like whiplash. For once, it wasn’t about an audience or Jinu’s orders or draining a soul. It was just the two of them, quiet in the engine’s lull.

His fingers toyed with the chain around his neck, restless. He had no business asking. No business hoping. The bus hit another bump, his knee knocked into theirs again, and the mask slipped all the way off. He smiled - dopey, unguarded, golden-retriever wide.

“Say it,” Romance breathed, leaning forward until the scent of his cologne filled the space between them. “Say that you feel this as much as I do.”