The dorm carried a weight that night. It wasn't the comfortable quiet they were used to, where everyone slipped into their own corners after a long day. This silence had a stiffness to it, an edge that pressed down on all of them. Even the hum of the fridge in the kitchen felt louder than normal.
Jin sat sprawled on the couch, his phone glowing in his hands. His thumb scrolled over the trending page again and again, but the post wasn't moving. The blurry photo of Jungkook and Taehyung lingered near the top, comments multiplying with every refresh. Some were harmless, playful even, but others were sharp, accusing, the kind that could grow teeth if left to spread.
He rubbed at his temple. It wasn't the first time rumors had swirled around them, but this felt closer, more dangerous. The expressions in the photo weren't fan-service. They were real. And Jin knew fans could sense that difference.
Across the room, Namjoon had a notebook open on his lap. A pen tapped rhythmically against the page, but he hadn't written a word in over twenty minutes. He was thinking, calculating, running through possibilities in his head like he always did. He stole a glance at the hallway where two bedroom doors stood shut. Jungkook's. Taehyung's. Both of them retreating into silence, neither wanting to make the first move to come out.
On the floor, Hoseok sat cross-legged with a pillow hugged to his chest. His eyes shifted between the members, his usual bright energy dimmed. He hated the heaviness in the air, hated that the laughter he usually sparked felt impossible tonight. He opened his mouth once, twice, but nothing came out.
The one who finally spoke was Yoongi. His voice was calm, like he was talking about the weather, but it cut through the tension. "They'll be fine. You know how stubborn they are. This won't break them."
Jin looked up from his phone, sighing. "I know. But the company's eyes are sharper than ever. One mistake, one wrong move, and the managers won't let it slide." He hesitated, lowering his phone. "They've been warned before. This time could get worse."
Hoseok's grip on the pillow tightened. "They're careful. But…" He stopped, exhaling. "They care too much about each other. You can't hide that forever. Not from fans, not from the company, not from us."
Yoongi leaned back against the wall, arms folded. "So what? It's not our job to stop them from feeling something."
Namjoon finally closed his notebook, setting the pen aside. His tone was low but steady, the way it got when he was done thinking and ready to act. "It's not about stopping them. It's about protecting the group. The company won't protect them. If anything, they'll protect the image. That means we have to balance it here."
Jin gave a small nod. "Keep things normal. Don't let the tension eat at them."
"Exactly," Namjoon said. "If the rest of us panic or treat them differently, it'll make them panic too. We need to make sure they don't feel cornered."
Silence fell again, but it wasn't the same suffocating silence as before. It was agreement, quiet but firm. No one needed to spell out the decision they'd made. The group would carry this weight together.
Later that night, as the dorm lights dimmed and most of the boys retreated to their rooms, Jin remained in the living room. His phone screen glowed in the dark as he stared at the photo one last time.
It wasn't perfect quality—grainy, caught in bad lighting, probably snapped by someone in the crowd—but the emotion in it was undeniable. Jungkook's eyes were softer than Jin had ever seen in a candid shot. Taehyung's smile wasn't polished, wasn't for performance. It was unguarded. Genuine.
Jin set the phone on the table and leaned back, closing his eyes. The others might have seen risk, and the company would see nothing but danger. But Jin saw something else.
He saw two boys holding onto each other in a way that meant more than they could admit. He saw a bond that fans weren't imagining, a closeness that had crossed the invisible line long ago.
He opened his eyes again, staring into the dimly lit room. A question weighed on him, heavier than the silence around him.
How long would they be able to keep hiding it?