Chapter Text
Keonho had met celebrities before.
Trainees. Actors. Models. Even a few idols, when the company dragged him around to networking events he was probably too young to be at.
But none of them had ever made him nervous like this.
“Stop fidgeting,” his manager sighed for the third time that morning as they stepped out of the elevator. “You’re gonna wrinkle the outfit before the shoot even starts.”
“I’m not fidgeting,” Keonho muttered automatically, even as he immediately started fixing the sleeve of his jacket again.
The manager gave him a look.
Keonho ignored it.
The studio buzzed with movement around them—staff carrying lighting equipment, makeup artists rushing between stations, stylists with armfuls of clothing bags. The photoshoot was for some luxury campaign pairing two young models together, and honestly, Keonho still wasn’t fully sure why he’d been chosen.
Well.
He had an idea why.
His company had been painfully obvious lately.
Cortis needs one more member. We need someone recognizable. If you get close to him, make a good impression.
And then, casually: “Try to get his number if you can.”
As if Keonho was some undercover spy instead of a fifteen-year-old trainee who still forgot his dance bag twice a week.
Still.
Even he knew who Kim Juhoon was.
Everybody did.
Juhoon had been famous since he was little—luxury brands, magazine covers, music videos, commercials. Korea practically watched him grow up. People called him “the nation’s model prince” online because apparently just being ridiculously pretty wasn’t enough.
Keonho expected him to be intimidating. Maybe cold. Maybe arrogant.
Instead—
“Ah, there he is.”
Keonho looked up.
And immediately understood every ounce of the hype.
Oh.
Oh, wow.
Juhoon sat quietly near the makeup mirrors while a stylist adjusted the cuffs of his sweater. Soft brown hair fell over his forehead in a way that looked effortless even though Keonho knew it absolutely wasn’t. His side profile alone looked unreal under the studio lights—sharp nose, long lashes, delicately plump lips pressed into a calm, disinterested line.
Then he glanced up.
Their eyes met for half a second.
And Keonho nearly forgot how to walk.
He was prettier in person. That was the worst part. Photos somehow didn’t capture it correctly.
“Keonho?”
“Huh?”
His manager physically nudged him forward before he embarrassed himself further.
Juhoon stood as they approached, bowing politely.
Keonho bowed even deeper on instinct. “H-hi,” he said. Smooth. Very smooth. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
Juhoon blinked at him for a second before offering a small smile and another polite nod.
“That’s Juhoon,” one of the coordinators said unnecessarily. “And you already know Keonho.”
Juhoon nodded again.
Quiet.
Very quiet.
Keonho figured maybe he was just shy.
Which was fair. Honestly, if he looked like that, Keonho thought he’d probably avoid talking too much too because people would just stare at him all day.
…Like Keonho was currently doing.
The shoot itself started quickly after that. And weirdly enough?
They worked together perfectly.
The photographer loved them immediately. “Yes, exactly—closer—Keonho tilt your chin a little—Juhoon look at him—perfect, perfect—”
Juhoon moved naturally in front of the camera, like breathing. Every pose looked effortless. He barely needed direction, and whenever Keonho accidentally messed up positioning, Juhoon subtly adjusted with him without making it awkward.
It should’ve made Keonho relax. Instead, he just got more confused as time passed.
Because Juhoon barely spoke.
At all.
Whenever Keonho tried making conversation between shots—
“Have you done shoots like this a lot?”
Juhoon stared at him. Not rudely. Just… stared. Big dark eyes focused entirely on him. Then after a second, he’d smile politely. Or nod. Or softly hum.
But he wouldn’t answer.
At first Keonho thought maybe he simply hadn’t heard him over the studio noise. Then it happened again. And again. And again.
By the lunch break, Keonho was internally spiraling.
Did he say something wrong? Was he annoying? Too loud? Too friendly?
Maybe Juhoon just hated extroverted people.
Which—okay—that would be devastating because Keonho unfortunately never shut up once he got comfortable.
Still, he tried again.
Juhoon sat on one of the lounge couches, sipping iced tea while scrolling through his phone. His makeup had been mostly removed for touch-ups, leaving him somehow even prettier.
Keonho approached carefully. “Your sweater earlier was really nice,” he offered. “The blue one. It looked really g-good on you.”
Juhoon looked up.
Stared.
Keonho felt his stomach sink.
Right.
Okay.
Definitely messed something up.
“Oh—sorry,” Keonho blurted quickly, immediately bowing deeply from the waist. “I’m really sorry if I’ve been bothering you today. I talk a lot when I’m nervous sometimes and I know we just met and—”
A soft sound interrupted him.
Keonho froze.
It was quiet. Warm.
A laugh.
Not mocking or awkward.
Genuine.
Startled, Keonho slowly lifted his head. And nearly forgot what he’d been apologizing for in the first place.
Because Juhoon was smiling. Really smiling. Not the small, polite expressions from earlier.
This one reached his eyes completely, dimple appearing softly in one cheek as his shoulders shook with another tiny laugh.
It changed his entire face.
Pretty became devastating, and Keonho could only stare.
Then, somehow, he found himself laughing too. Not because anything was funny. Just because Juhoon’s smile made him want to. And for the first time all day, Juhoon looked completely relaxed looking back at him.
“It’s alright,” Juhoon said softly.
Keonho blinked.
For a second, he was too distracted by the fact Juhoon was finally talking to actually process the words themselves.
His voice—
God.
It was deeper than Keonho expected.
Not super deep, but low and soft in a way that immediately calmed everything around him. Like warm tea. Like listening to someone speak quietly late at night. And he spoke slowly too, careful with every word like he was placing them down one by one.
Keonho sat down in the chair beside him almost automatically. “No, seriously, I thought I upset you,” he admitted with an embarrassed laugh. “I was sitting there trying to figure out what I did wrong the whole time.”
Juhoon’s smile softened a little at that. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said quickly, almost like he felt bad. Then he hesitated.
Keonho noticed the way his fingers curled slightly around the cup of tea in his hands.
Juhoon looked down for a second before quietly continuing. “I should apologize too. I know it probably seemed rude.” Another tiny pause. “I just… don’t usually wear my hearing aids during shoots.”
Keonho frowned slightly in confusion.
Then Juhoon lifted one hand, brushing softly against his ear. And only then did Keonho notice them. Small and subtle. Nearly hidden beneath Juhoon’s hair.
Hearing aids.
Keonho froze.
“Oh.”
Juhoon immediately looked nervous after saying it out loud, shoulders tensing slightly as if he was waiting for Keonho to react badly. “They usually take them out for photos,” he explained quietly. “Because clients think it ruins the image sometimes.”
Something uncomfortable twisted in Keonho’s chest at that sentence.
Ruins the image?
Seriously?
But before he could even think about that too hard, another realization hit him entirely.
Juhoon was hard of hearing.
Actually deaf.
And nobody had told him. Not the staff. Not the company. Nobody.
Keonho suddenly replayed every interaction from earlier in his head and wanted to crawl directly into the floor. “Oh my god,” he said immediately, horrified. “I’m so sorry.”
Juhoon’s eyes widened slightly.
“I didn’t know,” Keonho rushed out, waving his hands frantically. “Nobody told me anything and I kept talking at you and probably being super annoying and—”
Another soft laugh escaped Juhoon before he could finish. “No,” he said quickly, smiling again. “You weren’t annoying.”
Keonho stopped rambling.
Juhoon looked at him for another second before adding more shyly, “You actually talked to me pretty normally.”
Something about the way he said it made Keonho’s chest ache a little more. Like that wasn’t something he was used to.
Keonho leaned forward slightly in his chair, brows pulling together. “You weren’t rude at all,” he said firmly. “I just didn’t understand why you weren’t answering me.”
Juhoon nodded once slowly.
“I know.”
His voice had gotten quieter again. Not uncomfortable. Just careful.
And now that Keonho knew, he noticed things he hadn’t before—the way Juhoon watched his mouth when he spoke, how focused his eyes were whenever someone talked to him directly, how he tilted his head ever so slightly to catch sound better. How practiced he seemed at pretending everything was normal. And somehow that made Keonho want to know him even more.
Juhoon’s fingers tightened slightly around his drink.
The nervousness from earlier crept back into his expression a little, his shoulders drawing inward as if he suddenly regretted saying anything at all. “I can still speak without them,” he explained quietly. “I always could.”
Keonho listened carefully now, fully focused on him.
Juhoon glanced down at his lap before continuing more hesitantly. “But when I’m not wearing them…” He paused, searching for the words. “I’m not very good at lip-reading yet.”
There was something deeply vulnerable in the admission.
Like he hated saying it out loud.
“I mess up sometimes,” Juhoon said with a tiny embarrassed smile. “And I don’t always pronounce things correctly when I can’t hear myself well.” His voice got softer with every sentence. “So usually during shoots I just…” He shrugged awkwardly. “Stay quiet. It’s less embarrassing that way.”
Keonho’s heart physically hurt hearing that. Especially because Juhoon said it so casually. Like he’d already accepted it as normal.
“That’s not embarrassing at all,” Keonho said immediately.
Juhoon looked up, startled a little by how fast the response came.
“Seriously,” Keonho continued sincerely. “Even I mess up what I’m trying to say all the time and I’m not even deaf—”
He froze.
Oh no.
Oh no.
Keonho slapped a hand over his mouth so fast it made a loud smack sound. His eyes widened in absolute horror. “Wait—no—I didn’t mean it like that—I mean obviously you’re deaf but—not in a bad way—I mean not that deaf is bad—oh my god—”
He wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted through his fingers. “I swear I wasn’t trying to be insensitive; my mouth just moves before my brain sometimes and now I sound horrible and—”
A quiet sound interrupted him again.
Keonho stopped rambling instantly.
Juhoon was laughing, not the tiny polite laugh from earlier. A real one. Soft and breathy and completely genuine. His shoulders shook slightly as he ducked his head, dimple appearing again while he tried—and failed—to hide his smile behind his sleeve.
And honestly?
It was probably the prettiest thing Keonho had ever seen in his life.
“You’re funny,” Juhoon said finally between little laughs.
Now Keonho was the one who stared at him. Still horrified. But now also a little mesmerized.
“I just verbally ruined my own life.”
Juhoon laughed harder at that. The sound was warm and surprisingly quiet, like he wasn’t used to laughing loudly around other people.
And somehow that made Keonho grin too despite himself.
“There,” Juhoon said softly once he calmed down a little, eyes still smiling. “Now I know you’re not pretending around me.”
Keonho blinked.
“Huh?”
“You say whatever comes to your mind immediately,” Juhoon explained.
“…That’s usually considered one of my worst qualities.”
“I think it’s nice.”
The answer came so naturally that Keonho went still for half a second.
Juhoon seemed to realize what he’d said immediately after because his ears turned slightly pink, gaze darting away shyly again.
And suddenly Keonho understood something very important.
Juhoon wasn’t cold at all. He was just nervous too.
The rest of the shoot went differently after that.
Lighter.
Easier.
Keonho stopped talking at a hundred miles an hour for once in his life, actually slowing down enough to make sure Juhoon could follow along comfortably. At first he overthought every word that came out of his mouth, worried he’d accidentally say something stupid again, but Juhoon made it surprisingly easy.
Because once he relaxed, Juhoon was nice to talk to.
Really nice.
Quiet, yes. Shy too. But thoughtful in a way Keonho hadn’t expected. Whenever Juhoon spoke, he took his time with his words carefully, and Keonho quickly realized it wasn’t because he was awkward—it was because he genuinely wanted to say exactly what he meant.
And Juhoon, in return, seemed to slowly settle into the conversation more and more. Probably because for once someone close to his age wasn’t either:
- A) treating him like he was fragile.
Or—
- B) pretending he didn’t exist entirely.
By the end of the shoot, Juhoon was even smiling regularly around him. Which felt like an accomplishment Keonho should honestly get an award for.
When the photographers finally wrapped for the day, Keonho nearly chickened out of asking for his number despite the company specifically sending him there to do exactly that.
But then Juhoon quietly asked first.
“You have KakaoTalk, right?”
Keonho almost combusted on the spot.
So yes.
Numbers were exchanged.
Keonho absolutely did not think about the fact that he now had the personal phone number of Korea’s most famous young model saved in his contacts for the entire subway ride home.
Absolutely not.
——
The trainee dorm was loud when he got back. Which really just meant it was normal.
“Keonho’s home!” Seonghyeon yelled from somewhere before the front door had even fully shut.
“I can hear that,” James called back dryly from the kitchen.
The smell of dinner, probably ramen, filled the apartment immediately, and Keonho dropped his bag by the couch as Seonghyeon appeared around the corner in pajama pants and socks that definitely did not match.
“Oh my god,” Seonghyeon said dramatically the second he saw him. “Your hair looks ridiculous.”
Keonho slapped his hand away as Seonghyeon tried touching it. “Don’t ruin it! It took like two hours!”
“That’s the longest anyone’s ever willingly spent looking at your face.”
“Hyung!”
From the kitchen, James laughed quietly while stirring something on the stove. Beside him, Martin looked up from cutting vegetables almost immediately.
The second oldest trainee had been quiet until now, but Keonho noticed how both he and James had obviously been listening the entire time.
Especially after hearing who the shoot had been with.
“Well?” Seonghyeon asked immediately, flopping onto the couch dramatically. “Was he scary? Is he secretly evil? Did you get his autograph?”
Keonho rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling slightly. “He’s actually really nice.”
That got everyone’s attention immediately.
Even Martin paused chopping.
“Seriously?” James asked.
Keonho nodded while toeing his shoes off near the door. “He’s really quiet though. Like… super quiet.”
“Probably because he’s famous,” Seonghyeon said knowingly. “I’d ignore all of us too if I looked like that.”
“No, like—” Keonho hesitated slightly. “He’s deaf.”
The room went silent.
Even the sizzling pan in the kitchen suddenly sounded loud.
Martin looked up first.
“…What?”
Keonho nodded slowly. “He wears hearing aids,” he explained softly. “But apparently they make him take them out during shoots.”
James’ expression shifted immediately, brows furrowing slightly. “They make him remove them?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s messed up,” Martin muttered quietly before anyone else could speak.
Keonho nodded again. “But honestly he’s really normal,” he continued quickly. “Like—I didn’t even know at first. He’s just kinda shy.”
Then, before he could stop himself: “And he’s even prettier in person.”
Silence.
Seonghyeon slowly turned his head. Then grinned like an absolute menace. “Oh,” he said. “So you’re crushing already.”
Keonho’s eyes widened instantly.
“I am NOT—”
Seonghyeon barely dodged the pillow launched directly at his face. “You literally called him pretty twice!” he yelled, laughing as Keonho tried grabbing another pillow. “Actually no—three times!”
“He IS pretty!” Keonho argued helplessly. “That’s just objectively true!”
“Sure,” Seonghyeon said smugly. “And I’m sure the way you’re blushing right now is also objective.”
“James hyung,” Keonho whined immediately, pointing accusingly at Seonghyeon. “Make him stop talking.”
James sighed deeply like a tired father of four despite only being a teenager himself. “Everyone calm down,” he said, though he was clearly fighting a smile. “It’s literally the first time any of us have met him.”
Seonghyeon snorted. “That’s enough time for Keonho apparently.”
Another pillow flew across the room.
James continued speaking over the chaos. “And besides,” he added reasonably, “he’s not even part of the company yet. Don’t start acting like he’s already debuting with us.”
That quieted the room a little.
Because he was right.
The company was interested, sure. But scouting someone and actually getting them to sign were two completely different things.
Still—
Keonho glanced down at his phone sitting in his hoodie pocket.
At the brand-new contact sitting there.
Juhoonie Hyung :)
And for some reason, the thought of Juhoon actually joining them suddenly didn’t feel so impossible at all.