Work Text:
Youngho’s throat is parched by the time he parks the car.
He hasn’t been taking drinks since the radio show- almost the entire day, more so, because for some reason, he just can’t find the energy to attend to anything beyond work. Not even bathroom business.
He turns his head to look at Hyunjoon on the passenger seat, asleep and worn, and Youngho could see new wrinkles forming on his face.
These past few days have been rough for everyone, his manager included. Youngho thought maybe a little act of kindness might be of help, hence his proposal to take over the driver’s position for their way home. Hyunjoon was too exhausted to even argue against Youngho’s idea, so he complied after a few objections to his weak Nos and let Youngho slip into the driver’s seat.
Jaehyun, meanwhile, has retreated to the back seat long before Youngho and Hyunjoon’s non-harmful debate erupts, and has been found snoring softly by the time Youngho hit the accelerator.
Youngho inaudibly counts to ten, then starts over, and repeats the cycle several times before deciding that Jaehyun and Hyunjoon had best transfer themselves to their respective beds.
When they reach their dorm, Hyunjoon gives him a quick appreciative pat before he drags his feet to his room, the car keys back in his hands, while Jaehyun makes a beeline to his shared bedroom with Taeil, still in his zombie mode.
And it’s only then, as he’s left alone in the space of the living room, with the one and only lighting coming from the sensory lamp at the entrance, when Youngho feels the weight-
On his shoulders, pushing down against his back and forcing him to adopt a hunched posture. Around his arms and legs, limiting his moves-
It’s odd. It’s not the usual soreness or muscle strain from hours of dance practice. Not the kind that can be relieved by a gentle back rub or sufficient hours of sleep. It’s clinging to his entire body and absorbing his energy- or rather, his life source.
He’s turning the doorknob to his room before he thinks any further of it.
Doyoung is there, lying leisurely on his bed with his knee bent facing the ceiling and propping his other leg by under the calf as he occupies himself with a novel. He then rolls onto his stomach to face Youngho properly.
“Welcome home,” Doyoung greets, grinning the ever so lovely grin of his that Youngho can’t help but smile back.
“How are you still up?” Youngho whispers as he rids himself from his coat and jacket. The walls aren’t thin for them to have to keep their voices hushed, but it’s nice to sustain the sense of intimacy in the hours of dark.
Doyoung sits up, reaches for a cup of water on the side table between their beds before he gets off his bed and walks over to hand over the drink. “I was waiting for you.”
Youngho hides his grin behind the mug as he gulps down the water, but raises his eyebrows at Doyoung, who just mouths a playful What.
Doyoung pours him another cup for him to consume. “You sounded awful on air, hyung,” he says, putting away the mug once Youngho finishes downing that one too.
Youngho hums, his throat now smooth and hydrated. He goes to his drawer to change, putting on a tank and a pair of trainings, before he throws himself on his bed. “Well I hope I looked good on visual radio at least.”
There’s a crescendo of light chuckle as Doyoung comes over again, this time with a pack of makeup wipes. Youngho pushes himself to a sitting position, scooting slightly to give Doyoung a space to sit too, and shoots out a hand to take the item from the younger’s hand.
Doyoung is quicker though, as he moves the wipes out of Youngho’s reach. He pulls one out, pulling it close to his chest when Youngho tries to snatch it again.
“Oh, what’s this? What are you doing,” Youngho comments cheekily when Doyoung brushes his hair out of his face and begins wiping his makeup off. He complies, nevertheless. Submitting to Doyoung’s benevolence and enjoying the comfort brought by the cool material sweeping across his face.
“Am I not allowed to take care of my favorite hyung?”
“Lies. Your favorite hyung is probably Taeil-hyung.”
“Everyone’s favorite hyung is Taeil-hyung, but that’s like in a whole different context. Maybe not so for Jaehyun, though.”
“And what context are we talking about right now?”
Doyoung pinches Youngho’s nose over the wipe.
They continue wordlessly; Youngho helping Doyoung holding his hair out of his face, while Doyoung pulls out another wipe to go over his face once again for a good measure.
When cold fingertips press down the skin under his eyes, he notices Doyoung’s expression shifts into that of concern- now bare-faced, there is nothing to conceal his dark circles with, especially under Doyoung’s observant gaze.
“Thank you,” Youngho says quietly, closing his fingers around Doyoung’s wrists to bring his hands to his lap.
It’s just a simple phrase, but it encompasses most of his unspoken gratitude for everything Doyoung has done to him up to this day- for religiously listening to his radio show, always keeping track of his work performance, waiting for him to come home.
For always providing a shoulder to lean on. For showing his utmost support and compassion. For being Doyoung. For existing.
For existing as Doyoung.
“You did a good job today, Youngho-hyung,” the younger says, drawing tiny circles on the back of Youngho’s hand with his thumb. “You worked so hard.”
Youngho thinks, as the younger presses a kiss to his lips and accepts him, all that weight is worth carrying until the end of the day.
It is when Doyoung is always there with his reward.