Jinyoung gave a genuine, full-bodied, HA HA HA laugh that made it hard for her to keep the annoyed look on her face. He nudged her playfully, still chuckling, and Y/N fought the warmth creeping up her neck.

When he finally calmed down, he exhaled in amusement. 

“Too bad. We have a three-song minimum.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. And our very official contract.”

Y/N groaned. “You can’t just make up rules whenever you feel like it.”

“Sure I can. It’s one of my many talents.” He glanced at her then, that teasing glint in his eyes making her stomach twist in a way she really didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Why? Are you nervous to sing in front of me or something?” His tone was teasing, but there was something else there too.

She rolled her eyes. “No…” she muttered, but they both knew that was a lie.

“Didn’t I tell you not to put too much pressure on yourself?” he scolded, shaking his head like she was being ridiculous.

“Yeah, but why karaoke?” Y/N whined.

“Because it’s the best way to get truly comfortable with someone.” He smiled.

Y/N shook her head. “Can’t we just trauma dump instead? Isn’t that how normal people bond?”

Jinyoung grinned. “You can sing it. Now pick a song.”

Annoyed at his chipper attitude, Y/N snatched the remote from him. “Fine. Let’s pick for each other. I go first.”

“Make it good.” Jinyoung smirked, far too pleased with himself.

Y/N bit her lip as she scrolled through the list. This was an anxiety-ridden experience on so many levels. For one, she was about to sing in front of one of the best vocalists she’d ever heard. For another, she had to pick a song for him—something safe, something that wouldn’t immediately expose her as a long-time fan.

She wanted to hear him sing King or Bounce—desperately—but she couldn’t pick a deep cut. That would give her away.

Jinyoung glanced at the screen as she finally made her choice. His eyebrows lifted slightly.

“You know Out the Door?” he asked, almost happily.

“What?” Y/N feigned innocence. “I just picked a random GOT7 song.” Somehow, she managed to suppress a smirk.

The excitement in Jinyoung’s expression dimmed ever so slightly, replaced by something unreadable.

“Ah… well, there will be a quiz after this, so take notes,” he joked, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Y/N’s stomach fluttered.

And then the first notes played.

Her heart pounded as Jinyoung lifted the mic.

"Back in September

I would leave flowers at your door

Now it's December, woah

Wish we felt like we did before"

Y/N should have braced herself, but nothing could have prepared her for hearing his voice live, right here in this tiny karaoke room. No stage, no cameras—just her. He was so good. Too good.

It was like having her headphones in, like listening on Spotify. Every note, every breath, was exactly as she remembered. And this song was new—meaning she was one of the first to hear it live.

“If love is true

It shouldn’t this much to be falling

Baby for you…

I thought I gave you all that you wanted”

Her idol was singing for her.

For free.

Actually, she was getting paid to listen to this.

The thought nearly made her laugh, but before she could, Jinyoung glanced at her, a teasing glint in his eye. His tone turned playful, dragging out certain words like he was making fun of her for picking the song. Then, without warning, he shook her shoulder excitedly in time with the chorus.

“You don't want me to stay

But you don't want me to go

Why do you play these games?

Baby, I'll never know

You don't want me to change

And you don't want me to grow

You'll be counting the days

Since I walked out the door”

Then he passed her the mic, motioning for her to sing the “Oh-oh-oh”s.

Jinyoung sang the rest of the song with complete, unrestrained joy, his usual composure slipping. He was like a kid, grinning between verses, swaying exaggeratedly to the beat, and nudging Y/N to join in. Every so often, he pointed the mic at her, insisting she sing along, his eyes lighting up whenever she did. By the time the song ended, Y/N’s chest felt too tight—whether it was from nervousness that she was about to go next, or the infectious energy radiating off of him, she wasn’t sure.

When the song finished, Jinyoung lowered the mic, looking at her expectantly. “Catchy, right?”

Y/N nodded, still dazed.

“Alright. Your turn.”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

He grinned. “Now it’s your turn.”

She hesitated. “I don’t know—”

“Come on.” His voice softened, coaxing. “It’s easy. You might even know it.”

The title flashed on the screen.

Stop Stop It.

Y/N’s stomach dropped.

She did know it. That was the problem.

Singing in front of him felt far more intimate than she expected. Her pulse thrummed as the music started. She hesitated, gripping the microphone too tightly, pretending to read the lyrics on the screen even though she knew them by heart.

And then, she sang.

It was awkward at first—forcing herself to stumble over words she had screamed at concerts without hesitation. But as the song went on, it felt natural. And the whole time, Jinyoung just watched her, amused.

And that was somehow worse.

Eventually, the song ended. Jinyoung leaned back in his seat, smirking. 

“Satisfied?” Y/N asked, face red.

“You have a nice voice.” he offered.

Y/N scoffed. “Liar.”

He smirked. “Actually you're right you were a little pitchy in the second verse.” he said teasingly, to which they both shared a laugh.

“You seemed to like that one.” He raised his eyebrows.

Y/N’s heart jumped.

“I—It has a good beat.” she covered quickly, setting the mic down. “And the chorus is the same word 3 times so that helped…” she added.

She glanced at him. “Your turn,” she challenged.

Her nerves spiked all over again.

This was it. This was her last chance to pick something that wouldn’t give her away.

But instead of playing it safe, her heart betrayed her.

She scrolled through the list, stopped at a title, and pressed play.

The opening chords of Cotton Candy filled the room.

Jinyoung’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “This one?”

Y/N swallowed. “Yeah.”

A beat passed. He seemed to approve her choice as he picked up the microphone and began to sing.

His voice was warm, delicate—each note laced with quiet longing. It wasn’t just smooth; it was textured, rich, carrying that husky edge that only deepened when he softened the words.

She had heard this song before, of course she had. But never like this. Not so raw. Not so close.

“I wanna know everything All about you 이렇게 될 줄 알았지

아마도 need you.”

Jinyoung wasn’t looking at her. His dark eyes stayed on the screen, lashes casting faint shadows against his skin, but he wasn’t reading the lyrics. He didn’t need to. He just sang, his expression unreadable, his focus elsewhere—lost in the music, or maybe somewhere deeper.

Y/N had heard him sing before—on albums, in concerts, in interviews. But this… this was different.

In this moment, he wasn’t the idol, the performer. He was just Jinyoung. The Jinyoung she had known but never met.

And Y/N—who had spent so much time keeping a safe distance, who had promised herself she wouldn’t get caught up in whatever this was—found herself mesmerized.

She didn’t even realize she was staring until he looked at her.

Their eyes met, and something shifted.

Jinyoung didn’t smirk, didn’t tease. He just looked at her as he sang, and for a split second, Y/N forgot how to breathe.

His gaze was deep—dark brown, nearly black under the neon lights. But one thing about Jinyoung, no matter how dark his eyes were they said everything for him. And in this moment, they were softer than usual, lacking the usual sharpness she had come to know. There was something in his eyes, something unguarded and innocent, that made her chest tighten.

This time, there was no pretense.

His voice softened, deliberate now. The kind of singing that felt personal, like the words weren’t just lyrics, but something closer to a confession.

Y/N didn’t know where to look. The lyrics were already too much, and Jinyoung wasn’t making it any easier.

“Like cotton candy Sweet cotton candy 어디 있다? 이제 왔니 이젠 stay here with me, please, please.”

His voice wrapped around the words—smooth and low in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. He was like an angel. But it was the way he was looking at her that made it hard to think. 

He wasn’t just singing with her. He was singing to her.

Y/N swallowed hard.

She could listen to him sing forever.

By the time he reached the chorus, he had leaned in slightly—almost playfully, but also entirely serious in that way only Jinyoung could be.

And Y/N felt intimidated.

He was too close now. Close enough that she could see the subtle curve of his lips as he sang, the way his dark hair fell just slightly into his eyes. Under the dim lights, the soft glow reflected in his gaze, turning them impossibly warm.

She had spent so much time convincing herself that none of this was real, that every glance, every touch, every lingering moment was part of a script. But right now, under the neon haze, with his voice filling the space between them, she couldn’t help but think how beautiful he was.

She knew—that was a dangerous thought to have.

Jinyoung held the final note, his gaze lingering on hers just a second too long, as if debating something. 

As she watched him let out a quiet breath and lower the mic, she didn’t know whether to feel disappointment that his singing was over or relief that she could also breathe.

Silence settled between them.

His expression was unreadable, but something about the way he was watching her made her pulse race.

Y/N swallowed. “You… um.” She cleared her throat, grasping for something, anything to break the tension. “You’re really good at that.”

Jinyoung blinked, then let out a small huff of laughter. “Well, I’d hope so.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh herself, shaking her head at how ridiculous her comment had been.

Then, just like that, his smirk returned. “One more song.”

Y/N groaned. “I thought the deal was three.”

“That was three. Now we’re just having fun.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Jinyoung had already picked a song. The music started.

And for the first time since this whole thing began, she let herself enjoy it.

______________________________________________________________

By the time Y/N got home, her face still ached from smiling. What had started as a nerve-wracking, almost humiliating night had turned into something… fun. After that first song, the tension had faded, and somehow, they had ended up singing through nearly half of GOT7’s discography, their voices overlapping in off-key harmony at times, Jinyoung occasionally coaching her through tougher melodies, and both of them laughing when she fumbled the lyrics on purpose just to mess with him. He had been different tonight—lighter, freer. Less like the Jinyoung she had spent weeks trying to figure out and more like someone… familiar. Someone warm.

Still grinning to herself, she stopped short when she reached her door.

Another box.

This time, the roses were yellow.

A strange flutter stirred in her chest as she bent down to pick them up. She carried them inside, setting them carefully on her counter before pulling out the card tucked neatly between the petals.

"You’re welcome - Jinyoung"

She exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking her head. He must have noticed when she thanked the PR team for the flowers thay day.

For some reason, that made her stomach flip.

Curious, she pulled out her phone and typed quickly into the search bar: Yellow roses meaning.

Y/N stared at the screen for a moment, her fingers hovering over the words.

"Friendship. Joy. Warmth"

It was thoughtful. Sweet, even. But as she set her phone down and looked back at the roses, a flicker of disappointment curled in her chest—small, barely there, but present.

Friendship.

She wasn’t sure what she wanted to appear.

She let go a sigh, looking back to the flowers that were on her counter. At least these actually had come from Jinyoung, and that made her happy enough.

Y/N lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, but all she could hear was his voice. Soft, unguarded, threading its way through her thoughts like a melody she couldn’t shake. Like cotton candy… sweet cotton candy… The lyrics looped in her mind, his voice lingering in the quiet of her room.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing it away, but it was useless. The way he had looked at her while singing—the warmth in his gaze, the way his voice wrapped around each word like a secret—stayed with her. She turned onto her side with a frustrated sigh, but even then, the song refused to leave her.

Part of her really wished those roses were red right now.

AN* If you wanna be added to the taglist comment down below!

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