The Australian sun was setting, casting gold over the soft waves near the beach house where SKZ CODE’s latest episode was being filmed. The salty breeze tickled the curtains, but inside the house… tension was thicker than the summer heat.

“Alright!” Chan clapped his hands, his Aussie accent slipping out strong and playful. “Since we’re staying here for a few nights, let’s decide who’s sharing rooms!”

The boys whooped, already giggling, some exchanging glances and hushed whispers.

Minho was slouched on the corner of the couch, hoodie halfway over his head despite the warmth. He scoffed under his breath, eyes narrowing whenever Chan laughed too hard at something Hyunjin said or let Han lean a bit too long against him.

It wasn’t like he cared. He didn’t care, …Okay, maybe he did. Especially when Chan’s attention was everywhere but him.

“Let’s make it a game,” Felix grinned, holding up a jar. “Draw a name, and that’s your roommate for the trip!” Groans and cheers followed. One by one, the names were drawn. Jisung with Seungmin. Hyunjin with Felix. Jeongin with the manager.

That left two. Minho blinked. “…No way,” he muttered.

Chan pulled the last paper out and read it. “Me and Minho?” he laughed. “Ayy, what are the chances?” “God hates me,” Minho muttered, standing up with that trademark grump.

The others cracked up. “Hyung, try not to kill him in his sleep!” Jisung teased. “Or confess,” Seungmin added dryly. Minho flipped them off, face hot.

Their shared room had a soft queen bed and a small window that let moonlight in. Chan was unpacking, tossing things around, relaxed as ever. Minho sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, glaring at nothing in particular.

“I’ll sleep on the floor if you want—” Chan began. “Shut up.” Chan blinked, hands in the air. “Dude, relax.”

“I am relaxed.” “You’re scowling at a flip-flop.” “It looked at me funny.” Chan chuckled, shaking his head. “God, you’re weird.” Minho didn’t answer. He just turned his head to the wall, biting the inside of his cheek.

The crew was filming a campfire challenge. Chan sat between Hyunjin and Jisung again, arms thrown over both their shoulders, joking like the natural leader he was.

Minho sat at the edge of the circle, his marshmallow slowly incinerating over the flames.

“Hyung, your stick,” Jeongin whispered.

Minho didn’t move.

Chan caught his gaze. For a second, something shifted in Chan’s expression. “Min,” he said softly, tilting his head, “You good?”

Minho stood up abruptly, throwing the burnt marshmallow into the sand. “Gonna sleep,” he muttered. He didn’t wait for anyone to follow. Especially not Chan.

“Are you mad at me?” Minho froze, toothbrush still in his mouth. Chan was leaning against the bathroom doorframe, hair damp from his shower, gaze uncharacteristically serious.

“…No,” Minho mumbled through foam. “You’ve been cold ever since we got here.” “I’m always cold.” Chan stepped closer. “Not like this.”

Minho spat in the sink, wiped his mouth, and stared at his reflection. “You flirt with everyone,” he said, barely a whisper.