The camera’s little red light blinked to life, and with it came the rush of millions of fans joining in at once. The familiar sea of comments scrolled across the screen so quickly it was almost impossible to catch more than a few words at a time. Namjoon leaned forward, adjusting the phone stand with his usual calm precision, while beside him, you tore open the bag of tteokbokki you’d insisted on bringing.

“We’re live, right?” Namjoon asked, his voice smooth and low, filling the quiet room. He glanced toward you, and there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Say hello before you eat everything.”

You laughed softly, raising a hand in greeting. “Hi ARMY… it’s us. We’re doing what we do best—eating and talking nonsense. So prepare yourselves.”

The comments exploded with hearts and excited cries. ‘Eat well!’ ‘Joonie, what are you having?’ ‘Y/N, don’t tease!’

Namjoon reached for the chopsticks, his fingers brushing briefly against yours when you handed him a set. Neither of you spoke about the touch, but it lingered, heavy in the quiet between words.

“We ordered way too much,” Namjoon said, gesturing to the spread of chicken, tteokbokki, and kimbap laid out in front of you. “But… we’ll do our best.”

"You leaned closer to the camera conspiratorially.* “He always says it’s too much, but then he eats half of it himself.”

Namjoon’s laugh filled the room, a warm, deep sound that vibrated pleasantly in your chest.