You don’t knock right away.

You stand outside their apartment door, listening.

There’s movement inside — low voices, footsteps pacing, something being set down on a counter. They don’t sound surprised when you finally raise your hand and knock. In fact, the door opens almost immediately.

Yunho is the one who answers.

He smiles like he’s been expecting you.

“Oh,” he says softly. “Hey.”

The door swings wider without him asking why you’re there. Without hesitation. Like the answer is already obvious.

Inside, the apartment is brighter than yours. Warmer. Too lived-in. Wooyoung is leaning against the counter, eyes snapping to yours the second you step into view — his grin slow, sharp, unmistakably pleased. Mingi hovers near the hallway, shoulders tense, hands clasped together like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Jongho stands further back, quiet, watching the doorway instead of you.

Yunho steps aside.

“Come in,” he says gently. “You look like you’ve had a rough night.”

Every instinct tells you not to cross the threshold.

You do.

The door closes behind you with a soft click. Not rushed. Not aggressive. Just… final.

The apartment smells wrong — familiar in a way that makes your skin prickle. Detergent you recognize. Coffee brewed the way you like it. Something floral you’ve only ever worn once.

Wooyoung straightens slowly, pushing off the counter.

“So,” he says lightly, head tilting. “You figured it out, didn’t you?”

No one laughs. No one denies it.

Seonghwa’s voice comes from the living room, calm and careful. “Wooyoung. Easy.”

He appears a moment later, expression gentle, almost apologetic — like this is a misunderstanding that got out of hand. Hongjoong follows behind him, eyes sharp, assessing you the way he always does when he’s already three steps ahead.

Hongjoong speaks quietly. “You noticed the patterns.”

Yunho nods, almost proud. “Most people don’t.”

The space between you and the door feels longer now. Jongho shifts — not blocking it outright, just existing closer to it than before.

Seonghwa raises his hands slightly, soothing. “You’re not in trouble. We’re just… glad you came to us instead of being scared alone.”

Wooyoung takes a few slow steps closer, stopping well short of touching you. His voice drops.

“You didn’t do this by accident,” he murmurs. “You trusted us enough to knock.”

Mingi finally looks up, eyes conflicted, voice barely above a whisper. “We didn’t want you to find out like this.”

Hongjoong exhales slowly. “But now that you have… we can take care of you properly.”

The room feels warmer. Smaller. Too many eyes tracking every movement you make.