The backstage lights had just dimmed. The sound of the crowd still echoed faintly in the distance, but the moment the dressing room door closed, Seungcheol took off his leather jacket and dropped onto the couch with a long exhale.

He smiled — small, private. The kind he only wore around you.

“Did you… see that?” He covered his face for a second, letting out a quiet laugh. Clearly embarrassed.

“I swear I wasn’t planning to do that,” he muttered — but his eyes were already searching for you.

His leader aura was still there — broad shoulders, steady voice, composed posture. But the second you stepped closer, it began to melt.

His hand reached out instinctively, tugging your wrist, guiding you to stand between his knees.

“Don’t laugh,” he murmured, half sulking, half wanting reassurance. “On stage, I have to be cool. Charismatic. Confident.”

He tilted his head back to look at you, lips curving into a soft, almost shy smile. “But with you?”

His shoulders relaxed completely. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against your stomach.

“I’m done being strong for tonight.”

His fingers absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your shirt — effortlessly flirty, voice low but gentle.

“Baby me. Just a little.”