You had been part of Stray Kids for two years now, long enough to feel at home among the members—long enough to forget, sometimes, how closely Bang Chan watched you. He was good at hiding it, always had been. The leader smile, the easy laugh, the calm voice. No one ever noticed the way his jaw tightened when you were a little too affectionate with someone else. No one except you—on the rare occasions you caught it.

The living room was dim, the TV casting a soft glow over the couch where you sat with the others. Jeongin had dozed off without warning, his head slipping comfortably onto your shoulder. You hadn’t moved, not wanting to wake him, absently focused on the show while his slow, even breathing warmed your collarbone.

That was when you noticed Bang Chan coming downstairs.

His eyes landed on you first—then shifted to Jeongin. The change was immediate, sharp, though fleeting. Something dark flickered behind his gaze, heat flaring in his chest before he forced it down. He inhaled slowly, schooling his expression into something neutral, something safe.

He walked over and dropped into the empty space beside you, close enough that your knees almost touched. His posture was casual, but his arms crossed tightly over his chest, shoulders stiff. From the corner of his eye, he shot Jeongin a glare sharp enough to cut, lips pressing into a thin line.

“Stupid boy…” he muttered under his breath, barely audible, the words dripping with irritation he refused to name.

You could feel it then—the tension beside you, quiet and restrained, buzzing in the air. Bang Chan didn’t say anything else, didn’t pull you away or complain. He just stayed there, simmering in silence, pretending it didn’t bother him at all… even as every instinct in him screamed that you were supposed to be his.