Chapter Text
He should’ve expected it.
Joong lifts his camera with that familiar sparkle in his eyes, already stepping closer, already reaching out. He always does this—holds people’s chins like a director setting a scene. It’s harmless. Cute. Part of his charm.
But before he can touch Nani, another hand slips in. Quieter. Surer. Familiar.
Sky.
His fingers curl under Nani’s jaw like he owns it. Not rough, not showy, just… there.
Like the most natural thing in the world. Except it isn’t. At least, not here.
Not in front of Joong.
Not when they’re supposed to be careful.
Nani feels the heat creep up his neck instantly.
Sky’s thumb rests just under his cheekbone, feather-light, but it might as well be branded into his skin.
He doesn’t look at Joong. He doesn’t look at Sky either. He just stares past the camera and pretends this doesn’t shake him to his core. Pretends it doesn’t turn him to liquid, all heat and nerves and helplessness.
“You don’t have to,” he says, voice too quiet. “Joong can—”
“No,” Sky says simply. “This is my job.”
It hits Nani right in the ribs.
Because it is his job. Behind closed doors. In soft moments no one else gets to see. Sky holds his face all the time—when he’s tired, when he’s pouting, when they kiss like it’s the only thing keeping them grounded. But not here. Not when they’re still pretending.
Joong giggles, eyes bright with mischief. “Ohhh, okay—possessive, I see.”
Nani’s cheeks burn hotter. He can barely breathe. He can’t even hide it—Sky’s touch melts every piece of him, even when all he’s doing is tilting his chin up like it’s nothing.
Sky smirks, eyes dark and steady. “Look at the camera,” he murmurs, thumb brushing once, deliberately.
Nani obeys, suddenly feeling even warmer, flushed through and through.
“Be good,” Sky adds softly, his voice low, like a promise.
Nani tilts his head just a little more into Sky’s hold, the faintest warmth spreading where their skin meets. Because he trusts him. Because even when they’re surrounded by people and pretending to just be friends, Sky still reaches for him like this. Still claims him.
Joong lets out a soft giggle as he snaps the picture, eyes flicking between them like he’s figuring something out.
And in the photo, it’s obvious. Even if no one else knows what it means—Nani does.
It’s Sky saying, mine. Quietly. Softly. But no less true. And Nani’s face—flushed, steady, like someone who knows this touch too well—gives it all away.
Joong leaves with a cheeky grin and a wave, teasing something about “editing that one with extra glow,” and Nani thinks maybe he’ll combust on the spot.
The moment the door clicks shut, silence falls. Nani doesn’t move. His skin still tingles where Sky touched him, under his jaw, along his cheek. Like it’s still there. Like it never left.
He risks a glance at Sky, who’s standing way too close, all smug eyes and barely-contained laughter.
“You’re still red,” Sky murmurs, stepping in like it’s nothing. Like he didn’t just manhandle Nani in front of a camera. “Cute.”
Nani turns away, flustered. “Shut up.”
Sky hums low, reaching out again—his hand brushing Nani’s jaw in the exact same place, just to prove he can.
“You didn’t stop me.”
Nani swallows. “You didn’t give me much choice.”
That earns a grin. “You could’ve said no.”
He could’ve. He didn’t want to. Sky’s fingers linger, tilting his chin slightly, like he’s testing how much Nani will let him have.
“You looked good,” he says, voice low and steady. “All flushed like that. Letting me touch you like it’s mine to do.”
Nani’s breath catches. His heart feels too full in his chest.
“It’s not,” he mumbles, though it barely comes out.
But it is. They both know it.
Sky doesn’t argue. He just watches him—for a beat too long, for a breath too deep—and that’s enough.
Sky leans in. The kiss is soft. Barely a brush of lips, like he’s not trying to start anything—just finish a thought. Just mark something that’s already his.
And then he pulls back, voice low enough to curl around Nani’s spine.
“Next time Joong tries that chin thing again,” Sky says, thumb dragging once across Nani’s lower lip, “I’ll remind him.” Nani stares, dazed.
“Remind him of what?” Sky smirks.
“That you’re not his to pose.” And then he walks off, calm as anything—leaving Nani breathless, lips tingling, and skin still burning.