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Hansol’s stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. It’s a little inconvenient, the rest of the members having to squeeze past him to get between the two rooms, but Hansol doesn’t think that he can move. And so he doesn’t. He wraps his arms around his waist, fingers digging into either side of his ribcage, and he fixes his eyes on the spot of carpet directly in front of his eyes.
Another pair of shoes suddenly appears in his line of sight, but they don’t keep moving as all the others have. Hansol lifts his head and meets Wonwoo’s eyes. “Are you waiting for an earthquake?” Wonwoo asks, lifting the hand that isn’t holding his water bottle to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
If he wasn’t feeling so out of place, perhaps Hansol would have made fun of him.
Wonwoo tilts his head to the side, and Hansol suddenly realises that the lilt in the elder’s voice meant that he was asking for a question. He can’t decide whether to answer yes or no, so he just settles with “maybe.” Wonwoo smiles, a little uneasily. He walks away, but not without throwing a concerned glance over his shoulder- Hansol isn’t sure who it’s for.
He’s on his own again for a while, but he can hear the distant sound of coats being zipped up. He should be in his coat too, but he’s not. He’s supposed to be going for dinner with the rest of the members, besides Junhui and Minghao who had already eaten earlier (it was a date). He was so excited, as well, until he’d started thinking about walking into a restaurant and having to pick out what he wanted and having to ask for it and having to eat it then having to finish it then-
And now he’s stood in a doorway.
Suddenly, the front door is pulled open and Hansol’s head instantly turns towards it, staring wide-eyed, as if he could shut it again if he just looked at it hard enough. Seungcheol’s stood beside it, counting everyone out- Hansol can tell the instant he gets to nine but can’t quite reach ten.
His eyes scan the room, landing on Hansol, still stood in the space left by the open kitchen door. Seungkwan is hovering behind him and, without even being in the same room Junhui knows that something is wrong, appearing beside their leader as well.
Seungcheol and Junhui approach him carefully, aware of how jumpy he can get. Junhui slips an arm around his waist, and Seungcheol blocks his view of the door. “Hansol-ah? What’s wrong?” Seungcheol asks, lifting his hands to squeeze reassuringly at the younger’s shoulders.
Hansol takes an intentionally deep breath before he answers. “I think- I think if I go outside right now, I’ll have a panic attack.” A shiver runs through Hansol’s body, so strong his knees knock together. Junhui lays his chin on his shoulder, nosing gently at his neck.
Seungcheol nods, not faltering for a second. “Then you don’t have to go.” He says, and Hansol sighs in relief; he also catches the fleeting look of distress on Seungcheol’s face, like he’s realised that Hansol expected to be forced out regardless of his mental state.
“You can stay with me and Hao, Hansolie,” Junhui tells him, his voice so soothing to Hansol right now, as Seungkwan sidles up to his free side, taking his hand, their fingers instinctively lacing together.
“But, you and Hao were going to have a night in together and I don’t want to ruin that and going out was supposed to be a treat and it would be so rude of me to not-” He’s rambling, he knows he is, but his head is rattling with how many thoughts are taking up space in there. There is so much going on, but there’s nothing going on- he doesn’t know what’s going on.
Seungkwan cuts him off, though Junhui and Seungcheol both look like they were about to do the same. “Baby, don’t worry about all that. You’re more important.” Seungkwan half-whispers and Hansol looks at him guiltily. “Come on, let’s sit down,” Seungkwan says, gently pulling on Hansol’s hand, leading him towards the sofa.
Junhui leaves them for just a moment, to run down to the performance unit bedroom to grab Minghao. When he returns, he curls up on the sofa by Hansol’s side, Minghao perching next to Seungcheol on the coffee table. “We have no problem with you staying here, you’re not being rude or ungrateful or whatever else. Question is, do you want us to stay in? We can go out another night, we can stay here.”
Hansol’s shaking his head before Seungcheol’s even finished speaking. “No, you don’t have to do that, hyung. You should all go and enjoy yourselves, I’ll be fine. I just- just can’t go out right now, I-” He cuts himself off this time when he has to gasp for breath. Junhui starts rubbing slow circles into his back, and he whispers soothing words against the shell of his ear.
“We’ll look after you, Hansolie. The three of us can have a night in.” Minghao says, and Hansol’s instinct is to protest, to say that he can deal with this on his own, but instead he just melts into Junhui’s side and nods.
Seungkwan coos at him, leaning over to brush his hair out of his eyes. “You want us to bring you something back, Nonnie?” He doesn’t even have to say yes or no, he knows that Seungkwan will get him something anyway. He’d get Hansol something to take home even if they went to the restaurant together. He just loves treating his boy.
Seungkwan brushes a kiss against the corner of his mouth and the other three pretend not to notice (although it’s hard for them to hide their fond). Seungcheol and Seungkwan say goodbye and leave to check that the others hadn’t blindly left without them, not even realising they were missing three, too distracted by their stomachs. And then Hansol is alone with Jun and Hao.
Minghao moves to sit on his other side, combing a hand through the hair at the base of his neck. “What do you need, Hansol?” Minghao asks, eyeing the way the younger is wringing his hands together anxiously. “What can we do?”
“I- I don’t know. I just feel so- I just need to calm down.” Hansol tries to respond, but he can’t quite get his words in order. The tickle under his skin is distracting.
“Breathe, baby,” Junhui whispers to him, a hand sneaking up to press against his chest, reminding him that he does actually need oxygen to not pass out. Hansol nods, tilting his head to rest against Junhui as he takes a deep breath. It does help.
“You want me to wash your hair?” Minghao asks, suddenly. Hansol furrows his eyebrows, frowning up at him with a confused smirk pulling at his lips. Minghao rolls his eyes. “It always makes Junnie-hyung feel better when he’s anxious. You don’t have to say yes.” He continues, nodding towards the boy in question.
“It really does help. And Minghao is great at it.” Junhui agrees, both of their faces going soft when they look at each other. Sickening, really.
But, Hansol nods. “Yeah, okay.”
They steal the step-stool from beneath the kitchen sink so that Hansol can sit leaning back over the edge of the bath, a rolled-up towel under his neck. Minghao perches on the lip of the bathtub beside him and waits for the water to warm up, the showerhead in his hand.
Junhui sits on the floor between Hansol’s legs, sprawled across his lap, face pressed against his tummy. Hansol cards his finger through Junhui’s hair, which always makes him feel a little calmer. “Why does this work for you, Jun-hyung?” Hansol asks, his voice quiet to match the relaxed atmosphere the running water is creating.
“I like showers when I’m anxious anyway, it makes me feel better. Like the feeling of the water, but also just feeling clean? I don’t know. But also having my hair washed makes me feel all looked-after and protected, I think because my mum did it when I was little. You know?”
Hansol closes his eyes when Minghao lets the water run over his hair, fingers running through the strands as they grow heavier, stroking out the knots and tangles that seem to perpetually make a home on his head. “That makes sense.” Hansol can’t help but admit that, when Minghao starts rubbing shampoo into his roots, fingertips pressing at all the soft bits of his scalp, the tension practically runs out of his shoulders.
He sighs; he can almost picture the smug smile on Minghao’s face. “It’s nice, right,” Junhui asks, as Minghao’s fingers make their way down the back of his head, short fingernails scratching at the spots behind his ears. Hansol hears himself groan, and he doesn’t even have the strength to feel embarrassed about it.
He doesn’t move a muscle until Minghao has washed the conditioner out and coaxes him into lifting his head so that he can use the towel to dry him off. “You should do that for a living,” Hansol says, and Minghao and Junhui both laugh, Jun throwing his head back in the usual fashion, gripping onto Hansol’s leg out of pure excitement, wholeheartedly agreeing.
“How are you feeling?” Junhui asks once he’s calmed down, standing to take over drying Hansol’s hair so that Minghao can rinse down the bath. Hansol watches him with a smile.
“Better. Much better. I’m still a little uneasy, but nowhere near as bad as before.”
“Good,” Junhui responds, drying off the back of his neck. “Wanna cuddle up in bed? We could watch some TV?” Hansol nods, sighing contentedly when Junhui leans down to kiss his damp forehead before drying that off as well.
Minghao makes him some ramen because “you’re technically skipping dinner, Hansol, you need to eat” and Junhui makes some of his lemon tea, “perfect for when you feel anxious, believe me.” Then they curl up in Junhui and Minghao’s bed, Chan’s big, fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders. They set up Hansol’s laptop and put on the next episode of the anime he was watching, even though Minghao and Junhui don’t have a clue what’s going on.
“Thank you, guys. Seriously, this night could have gone really bad for me but you two made me feel so much better, I just- I’m so grateful, really.” Hansol says eventually, turning to look each of them in the eyes. He’s so lucky to have such caring hyungs, he thinks, and he tells them as much.
“You don’t need to thank us, Hansolie. We enjoyed it.” Minghao replies, smiling like he really, really means it. Hansol was really scared that he was ruining their night in together, but now he’s not even half-convinced that he has.
“He’s right. We like taking care of our little dongsaeng~” Junhui coos, lifting a hand to pinch at his cheeks. Hansol complains and bats his hand away, but he’s grinning and pulling them both closer to press right against him on either side. He feels so loved right now, which is exactly what he needed.