Chapter Text
Incheon International Airport, 7:14 AM.
The wheels of Gyuvin and Ricky’s suitcase squeaked every third step like clockwork, echoing painfully through the near-empty terminal. A cute detail, if you weren’t the one dragging it. Gyuvin didn’t seem to notice, practically bouncing as he pointed out duty-free stores they wouldn’t shop at and seating areas they didn’t need to sit in.
Ricky hadn’t slept. That was clear from the matching bags under his eyes and the silence he wore like a hoodie pulled too tight. He had agreed to this. Voluntarily. For love.
He regretted it.
The first wave of Gyuvin’s crew arrived in clumps—Gunwook, clutching a backpack and a suspiciously full duffel bag. Jiwoong with earbuds in, hoodie up.
Hanbin looking like he had been up all night debating whether to come at all and Yujin, who nearly crashes into them because he was filming a story about the airport ceiling.
“Morning!” Gyuvin chirped, throwing his arms out dramatically like he’d won something.
They all greeted Ricky which he offered with polite nods and a raised hand. Words were a luxury he wasn’t ready to afford this early.
Then come Matthew and Taerae, perfectly on time and looking like they’re walking into an enemy base camp. Their expressions are unreadable. Ricky gives them a warning look, and Taerae gives him a “don’t worry, I’m judging silently” nod.
Gyuvin beams like a camp counselor. “Yay! Everyone’s here!”
Except they’re not.
They all stood there, two friend groups side-by-side, exchanging the kind of half-hearted greetings that screamed I have no idea how to talk to you but I’m trying not to look like a jerk. The tension was palpable like a high school group project with forced pairings. Everyone trying to figure out who was the threat, the chaos agent, the one they’d bond with by day three, and the one they’d be avoiding forever.
Then—
“Wait… Matthew-hyung??”
Gunwook’s voice sliced through the social awkwardness.
Matthew blinked. “Gunwookie??”
“Matthew-hyung?! As in, my English tutor Matthew-hyung?!”
Gunwook bowed so fast his backpack nearly took someone out behind him.
“I didn’t know you were that Matthew! Why didn’t you say anything?!”
Ricky, who had been silently scanning for nearby exits, just blinked slowly.
Oh. That’s why your face was familiar.
The sudden recognition broke something open in the group. Unfortunately, it was sanity.
“Oh my god, does that mean Gunwook’s, like, been infiltrating our circle all along?” Taerae teased.
“Traitor,” Jiwoong deadpanned, already leaning into it.
Yujin’s jaw dropped. “Gunwook, you didn’t tell us you were fluent!”
“I’m not!” Gunwook said, flustered. “He just helps me with grammar sometimes!”
Matthew, now more amused, grinned. “We’ve had, like, six lessons.”
“Still counts,” Yujin declared, before launching into a very loud and unnecessary: “Hello! My name is Yujin!”
Taerae smirks. “Look at this teacher’s pet. Mr. Fluent in aisle 3.”
“Please stop,” Ricky muttered.
Meanwhile, Jiwoong tries to bond with Matthew by asking about his favorite playlists—only to recoil at the mention of 2010s EDM. “So… taste skipped a generation, huh?”
“I’m just saying,” Jiwoong said, “you can’t have both the La La Land soundtrack and 90s hip hop on one playlist. There’s no thematic cohesion.”
“It’s a vibe,” Matthew muttered, mildly wounded.
Yujin tries to calm things down by offering jelly snacks. Jiwoong accepts. Matthew politely declines. Hanbin just glares at the snack like it personally offended him.
He eyes Gunwook warily. The realization that someone from his group now has a direct connection to Ricky’s side and by extension, Hao—is not sitting well.
“Cool,” Hanbin says flatly. “Guess we’re all one big happy family now.”
Which is when someone definitely Yujin asked, “Where’s Hao?”
Ricky sighed. “Work. He’s joining us later. Don’t worry. He’ll bring the attitude.”
Hanbin’s eye-roll could be seen from the next gate. “Great. Just what we needed.”
The jokes started fast:
“We should do a welcome banner.”
“I’m holding an intervention when he lands.”
“Let’s change his name to ‘Hanbin 2’ in the group chat.”
Ricky looked at Gyuvin. “Tell them I’m going to cancel this trip if they keep talking.”
Gyuvin tried to redirect. “Let’s go get snacks together! Group bonding moment!”
No one listened.
Yujin made a beeline to a keychain display and immediately got stuck between two racks.
Gunwook and Hanbin wandered off mid-argument about something no one dares to ask.
Jiwoong and Matthew started ranking terminal lighting aesthetics like judges on a reality show.
Gyuvin, determined, tried to take a selfie. Half the group was mid-bicker. The other half wasn’t in frame.
Gunwook looked confused. Matthew blinked mid-laugh. Jiwoong was blurry. Ricky looked like a man held hostage.
“I’m not going through security unless someone swears I’m not sitting near Matthew,“ Hanbin said flatly, arms crossed.
Everyone freezes.
“It’s not about Matthew,” Jiwoong whispered. “It’s about Hao.”
“I heard that,” Hanbin snapped. “I just… need to be near the window.”
Gyuvin squints at him. “Since when?”
“Since now.”
Everyone side-eyed him.
Security opened. They shuffled forward like an awkward school trip. Nothing coordinated. Nothing cohesive. And somehow, deeply them.
Just as the gate number buzzed and they prepared to board, the group chat pinged.
Hao: On the way soon. If you guys not rearranged my room assignment, I’m going home.
Gyuvin sighed so loudly, three people turned to look.
“Can we fake a delay?” Ricky asked.
“I’m making the HanHao sign,” Yujin grinned, typing furiously.
Welcome to the Jeju trip and they hadn’t even boarded yet.