SKZ Imagines

Hug Me - I.N.

Author's Note: Listen to the song while reading for a better experience :)

Your apartment was unusually quiet that night, the kind of quiet that made the day's exhaustion feel heavier. You sat curled up on the couch, a half-finished cup of tea going cold in your hands, the day's stress still clinging to your shoulders like a weight you couldn't shake. You hadn't meant to say it out loud—hadn't even realized the words were slipping out until they hung in the air between you and I.N, your best friend who was sprawled lazily beside you, scrolling through his phone.

"I just really need a hug."

The words were soft, barely more than a sigh, but I.N heard them. He blinked, his fingers pausing mid-scroll, and for a moment, you thought he might laugh it off or tease you like he usually did. But then he was moving, setting his phone aside without a word, his arms opening in silent invitation.

This wasn't one of those quick, casual hugs friends exchanged. This was the kind of hug that felt like coming home—the kind where he tucked your head under his chin, his arms wrapping around you so tightly it was like he was trying to press all the broken pieces of your day back together. You could feel the steady thud of his heartbeat against your chest, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours, and for the first time that evening, you breathed easy.

"...Better?" he murmured after a long moment, his voice a quiet rumble against your hair. You nodded, your face burning at how easily he'd unraveled the tension in your body with just a simple embrace. I.N grinned, his dimple popping as he pulled apart from you. "Good. 'Cause I'm not done." He started tickling you and tackling you as you both giggled on your couch, filling the apartment with the sound of your combined laughter.

It became a thing after that. Morning hugs when you were still bleary-eyed and half-asleep, his laughter vibrating against your cheek as he rocked you gently side to side, whispering nonsense into your ear until you were awake enough to swat at him. Bad-day hugs, where he'd wordlessly pull you into his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder as he let you lean into him, his presence a silent promise that you weren't alone. Random hugs—mid-conversation, mid-meal, once even mid-sentence when you were scolding him for eating the last of the kimchi, his arms winding around your waist from behind as he buried his face in your neck, his whines muffled against your skin.

"You're like a koala," you teased one evening, poking his dimple as he clung to you while you washed dishes, his chest pressed snugly against your back. "Nah," he corrected, nuzzling into the curve of your shoulder. "Koalas are cute, but I give better hugs."

And slowly you realised that at some point of time, your relationship with I.N turned into something more than friends. You unconsciously developed feelings for him, but you were scared that by telling him about it you'll ruin your friendship. So you kept it to yourself.

The night he sang Hug Me at a fansign, you knew something was up. I.N never picked love songs for solo stages—preferring upbeat tracks or playful covers—but there he was, bathed in soft stage lights, his voice honey-sweet and achingly sincere as he sang about warm embraces and never letting go. And when his eyes found yours in the crowd, his cheeks flushing pink as he held your gaze through the line 따스히 꽉 안아줄게요... 나를 떠나지 마요 (I'll give you a warm hug...don't leave me) your heart stuttered in your chest. This time, it felt like a true heartfelt confession, and you didn't wanna miss this chance.

Backstage after the encore, you found him pacing, still in his sparkly stage outfit, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. "So," you said, leaning against the doorframe, your arms crossed. "That was... specific." He froze, his ears turning an even deeper shade of red. "Yep."

"For me?" you pressed, unable to keep the smile from your voice. I.N's shoulders slumped, his usual confidence giving way to something softer, more vulnerable. "...Duh," he muttered, scuffing his shoe against the floor. Then, quieter: "Is that okay? Did it work?"

You didn't answer with words. Instead, you opened your arms. I.N didn't hesitate. He crossed the room in two strides, his embrace crushing the air from your lungs as he lifted you off your feet, his laughter bright and breathless against your ear. And when he finally set you down, his hands cradling your face as he leaned in to press his forehead to yours, you realized—this was it. This was the confession, the promise, the everything, all wrapped up in the way he held you like he never intended to let go.

He then whispered in your ear, mid-hug, "You're stuck with me now. I'm never letting you go."