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Hansol's lying in bed on his stomach, forehead pressed against his pillow, and it's nearly noon. The dorm is uncharacteristically quiet.
The boys had gone to practice without him today. He'd nearly burst into tears on Jeonghan's shoulder at just the prospect of putting his shoes on, and so they'd decided that he might be in need of a little more rest. Jeonghan had waited for him to get back into his pyjamas and then had tucked him in, a kiss pressed to his forehead.
He's not alone, though. Hansol being on his own when he's stressed is usually a bad idea. Wonwoo is clinging onto his last few days of sick leave. They don't have too much on today, so they can survive missing the two of them.
Wonwoo has spent the day on the sofa, curled up in front of the television playing a new game of his. Hansol was trying to get some more rest, convinced that he could sleep off his anxiety, at least until Seungkwan or Junhui get home to take over the task of keeping him from hyperventilating. Doing it by himself is hard.
He doesn't even feel that bad today- he's had it a lot worse- but it still feels impossible to do the simplest of things. Even realising that he's uncomfortable, making the decision to roll over, and then actually carrying out the task, took him about ten minutes. He'd ended up with pins and needles anyway.
Nothing even set him off, no big realisation or confrontation, just a bad night's sleep and a busy morning. That's all it took to leave him with teary eyes in the foyer, staring at his trainers, fingers refusing to uncurl, to allow him to untie the laces.
It's only when he realises that he's lying in the dark, eyes squeezed so tightly shut that his eyelashes are stinging and his chest is wound up in a knot of anxiety, that he decides that he shouldn't be alone any more.
A lot of the boys, especially Chan and Junhui, seem to take an issue with admitting when they feel shitty, preferring to keep it to themselves until they get found out. Hansol is the complete opposite. He seeks help immediately, as soon as he thinks that he can't cope any longer. And right now, he can't cope on his own.
He grabs a blanket, wrapping it around his middle so that his organs don't fall out, and he sprints through to the living room- truly the fastest that his body has moved all day. Wonwoo's head whips around at the sound of thundering feet. "Sol-ah?" He asks, alarmed, dropping his game controller at once.
Hansol has forgotten all of his words, his mind suddenly reeling with all of the things that he could possibly say and possibly ask for. All he can do is whine, high in the back of his throat, and stare up at Wonwoo in desperation. He swears he didn't feel this bad ten seconds ago. Maybe it was all that running that tipped him over the edge.
Wonwoo gets up and circles the sofa, arms outstretched in case Hansol wants someone to hold onto him, letting him know that he's there if needed. It can be difficult to gauge what Hansol needs when he's stressed out because he switches so rapidly and so violently. With so many thoughts swirling around his head, every immediate desire replaced by one just as fleeting, it leaves him spinning and dizzy and gaping at his hyung.
"Sol, talk to me. Tell me what you need." Wonwoo demands, but his voice stays soft. Hansol falls into it, taking a few stumbling steps forward because Wonwoo is warm and safe and he needs- he needs-
"Help." Hansol grasps at and clings to the only word that appears clear, sat there in the forefront of his brain. "Help." His heart clenches in his chest, a painful squeeze. He pinches his skin just as hard to offset the pain, fingertips turning white.
"I know, I know, Hansol-ah. Can I touch you? Can I hold your shoulders?" Wonwoo's eyes won't stop flicking down to check on Hansol's hands, his fingers digging into his own chest, knuckles tense.
Hansol gasps in a breath, blinking quickly as he tries to come up with words- any words- and an answer. Eventually, he nods, a desperate, jolting movement of his head.
"Okay. Just relax, Sol, I've got you. Yeah?" Hansol nods again, only tensing up a tiny bit when Wonwoo lays his hands on his shoulders, gently pressing at his clenched muscles. Absentmindedly, Hansol's hand relax, fingers going limp against his chest, only barely gripping onto the fabric of his shirt. Wonwoo smiles at him. "There you go, just chill, okay? I've got you, you're going to be alright."
It takes a few minutes, but eventually, Hansol lets go of his own clothing in favour of grasping onto Wonwoo's. And as soon as his hands are close to Wonwoo's stomach, he clutches on and pulls himself forward, effectively burrowing himself against Wonwoo's front. He's only just realising that surely this is what he needs. He needs something to hold him up, hold him together.
Wonwoo obliges, arms curling around Hansol's waist and squishing him tightly to his body. Hansol has explained this to him before- after Wonwoo had asked, scared of being helpless in the face of Hansol's panic attacks. Sometimes, he'd said, when he's panicking, he needs something to ground him. Whether it be a soft texture to worry his fingers over or a strong pair of arms around his middle.
"Help," Hansol mumbles against Wonwoo's neck like it's the only word that he remembers.
"I know, Sol. I know. I'm here. I'll help you." Hansol nods, messy hair brushing against Wonwoo's chin.
After a few moments, when Hansol has gone quiet and boneless in his arms, Wonwoo strokes a hand over the back of his head and nudges his nose against Hansol's cheekbone. "How are you feeling?" He whispers, keeping his voice low and- hopefully- soothing.
"My head's a mess." Hansol blurts out. "It's- I can't think it's all- everywhere. I don't know what to do." Hansol draws in a sharp breath. Wonwoo shushes him, rocking him a little from side to side, trying to keep him calm.
"It's okay. You won't feel like this forever, I promise. We'll get you feeling better." The next breath Hansol takes sounds a little wet and Wonwoo holds him closer, knowing that- if they haven't started already- tears are on their way. Hansol hates crying, so Wonwoo lets him hide, lets him pretend that they aren't actually real. "It's okay, Sollie. I'm here for you."
*
This is the sight that the other boys walk in on.
Wonwoo hadn't realised how much time had passed, that it is suddenly far past the time they usually leave the studio for the day. He steals a hand from Hansol's back just to wave it in the air incoherently, hoping that the boys get the message that they need to keep quiet.
They must do because the usual noise they bring back with them withers out quickly, Mingyu shushing the pack. Hansol trembles a little but he stays close.
Upon working out what must be happening, Seungkwan and Junhui join them, hovering on either side of the pair. "Hi there, sweetheart," Seungkwan whispers, smiling sadly when Hansol dislodges his face to look up at him, eyes red and teary. "Hi." He coos, running a gentle fingertip along Hansol's forehead, pushing his hair back.
"I-" Is all that Hansol can choke out. His sinuses feel sticky. He hates it.
"I know, my lovely. I know." Hansol whines, not sure what to do with himself. He feels so safe, the weight of Wonwoo's arms around him so comforting and familiar, but Seungkwan- his Seungkwan is right there. He screws his eyes shut, he can't think.
"Take a deep breath, Sollie, and tell us what you want. You're alright. Just talk to us, okay?" Junhui speaks up, running his knuckles across the back of Hansol's neck, making him shiver. Hansol takes a shaky breath. "It's okay, Sol. What do you need?"
"Kwan-" Hansol says before his throat catches again. His eyes are now wide, desperate to be understood.
"Okay," Junhui responds like he understands exactly what Hansol's trying to say, like he's well-versed in the language of Hansol's panic attacks. Well, maybe he is. "This isn't going to feel great. But only for a second, then you'll have your Kwannie, okay? Trust me, Hansol-ah."
Junhui choreographs them, wrapping himself around Hansol's back to maintain the pressure as Seungkwan and Wonwoo switch places, Seungkwan's arms in their familiar positions around Hansol's waist and shoulders. And only then does Jun let go, stepping back to observe the situation, ready to intervene is Hansol's mood suddenly turns sour.
It doesn't, though.
Hansol simply clings to Seungkwan, buries his head in his shoulder, and sniffles into his hoodie. Seungkwan presses a lingering kiss to his temple. Hansol whimpers, a small, broken sound, but Seungkwan isn't fazed. He nuzzles at Hansol's hairline and coos against his flushed skin. "You're alright, lovely. You're doing so well." Hansol whines again, the sound vibrating past his clenched lips.
Junhui looks relaxed as well, when Wonwoo checks on him. He's obviously content that Hansol is past the worst of it. He bends down to retrieve the blanket that is pooled around Hansol's feet- Wonwoo's not even sure when it fell off him. Junhui secures it around his shoulders, stroking his back softly through the fluffy material.
Hansol is still, obviously, feeling worked up, but they all know that they can't stay stood there forever. Sometimes Hansol needs everything to be still and constant so that he can wrap his head around things, but he doesn't seem to be getting any calmer right now by staying where he is. There are other times when a change of scenery does him good, when pretending that everything is normal and going about their usual routines gets him back into a good, stable mindset.
"Hey, sweetness. I have a plan." Seungkwan says, nudging his nose against Hansol's forehead so that he'll look up. He does, wet eyes boring into his. "How do you feel about lying down in bed with me?"
Hansol goes still and simply stares for a moment, blinking slowly. Seungkwan can almost hear the cogs turning in his head, the sound of him thinking it through, deciding whether it's going to make him feel better or worse. Eventually, he nods with a small sigh, quickly pressing his face back into Seungkwan's neck after.
Thinking makes his head hurt. When he's feeling like this, everything takes so much longer. It's exhausting. Suddenly he wants nothing more than to be in bed.
He takes the deepest breath he can manage and drags himself away from Seungkwan, giving him a wobbly smile and holding out a hand. Seungkwan takes it in his, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. "I'm so proud of you." He murmurs.