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When Hongjoong stepped through the doorway at 2 in the morning, the first thing that registered was that all the lights were still on. (He was late. He was so so late and Seonghwa was going to kill him in the morning).
It wasn’t unusual for Seonghwa to leave one or two lights on, in fact, he left them on more often than not. It was a sweet gesture, and he counted on Hongjoong to turn them off when he finally came home (plus that would occasionally wake Seonghwa and he could give Hongjoong his first scolding). But what was odd about this night was that there were at least 4 lights that Hongjoong could see, and it reeked of cleaning supplies, the smell so sharp and strong that Hongjoong thought he was going to get an immediate headache.
He slowly crept further inside, still attempting to be quiet when a voice snapped at him.
“Take off your shoes.” Seonghwa was on the floor, hair hanging in his face, hands covered in suds with his eyes stuck on Hongjoong’s shoes and Hongjoong knew he had probably made the Bad Day worse by being late.
Seonghwa had told them about those days, stuttering and awkward, apologetic as he went into detail on what would probably happen, what he would be thinking, what to expect and how they could help him.
This was the first Bad Day in their dorms, and Hongjoong was startled by the difference in Seonghwa’s normally composed appearance.
“Sorry,” he said, quickly taking off his shoes and coat, placing everything in their respective spots before shuffling a little closer to Seonghwa, who had gone back to scrubbing the already spotless floor, bubbles being thrown left and right as he cleaned.
“How long have you been at this?” he asked quietly, crouching down next to him and Seonghwa glanced up for a second, barely registering Hongjoong as he thought.
“What time is it?” he was out of breath, the words coming out airy and weak, but instead of leaning back to take some form of a break, he scrubbed harder, soapy water beginning to soak into Hongjoong’s socks.
“2 in the morning,” he said and Seonghwa paused for a second, swallowed, and nodded.
"2 in the morning," he repeated before being able to speak his own words. "You should already be in bed Hongjoong.”
“Seonghwa. How long?” Hongjoong asked, spotting the attempt to dodge the conversation from a mile away.
“How long? Does it matter? It needs to be cleaned, it needs to feel right,” Seonghwa said in lieu of an answer, dunking his hand into the bucket next to himself, before going back to the floor, scrubbing the same spot.
Hongjoong stared at Seonghwa’s hands for a moment, spotting the red knuckles and fingertips, trying to figure out what to say to help.
“It does matter,” he started “because you’re exhausted and you were obviously not planning on going to bed soon. So how long?” Hongjoong asked, and Seonghwa shook his head, standing up with the bucket, pattering over to the sink, dumping it, and moving to refill it.
Hongjoong grabbed his wrist, and Seonghwa flinched like Hongjoong shocked him, briefly attempting to yank his hand out before quickly offering up his other wrist, despite his hand still dripping and gripping the scrubber. Hongjoong slipped his other hand around his wrist, wondering if there was anything else he should be worried about.
“How long?” he asked again.
“6 hours.” Hongjoong turned around to see Yeosang, who looked just as exhausted as Seonghwa. He had probably been awake, waiting for Hongjoong. More guilt seeped into his soul, like the soapy water dripping onto his socks.
“He’s been doing this for 6 hours. Got upset whenever anyone walked on the floor,” he elaborates, and Seonghwa looks betrayed, staring at Yeosang, gripping the scrubber even tighter in his hand.
“6 hours Seonghwa?” Hongjoong asked, and Seonghwa swallowed roughly.
“Maybe more. When I got home he was already cleaning,” Yeosang said quietly and Hongjoong just nodded.
“Thank you Yeosang.” Hongjoong could hear his footsteps as he retreated back to his room, leaving Seonghwa and Hongjoong at the sink.
“6 or more hours,” Hongjoong repeats and Seonghwa looks down at his hands, refusing to meet his eyes.
“I’m fine,” he says softly, eyes growing serious, and Hongjoong shakes his head.
“You aren’t.”
“It’s fine then,” he insists and Hongjoong gently moves one hand over Seonghwa’s, loosening his grip around the scrubber. Seonghwa isn’t meeting his eyes.
“Come on. Let’s go to bed,” Hongjoong says and Seonghwa shakes his head roughly.
“I still have more to do, I still have to- have to- have to-“
Hongjoong listens to him get stuck on the words and feels worse than before. Somehow even more guilty that he didn’t get home sooner, stop this sooner before Seonghwa spiraled this far.
“How many times have you cleaned the floor today?” Hongjoong asked, and the second he sees Seonghwa tense he knows it’s more than 3.
“It’s not clean enough- it has to feel right, it has to be a good number,” he protests, and Hongjoong shakes his head.
“It’s clean enough.”
“Someone could get sick,” Seonghwa says, voice breaking a little, eyes going frantic in a way that made Hongjoong’s chest ache.
“If they’re going to get sick it won’t be from here,” he says, trying to help. And it’s the wrong thing to say, as Seonghwa’s eyes go wide and horrified, hands clenched into fists as scenario after scenario plays through his head.
“No- they- oh no. They’re… we need to- to do something. Anything. Hongjoong we need to clean. Or quarantine. Or-“ Seonghwa trailed off and Hongjoong shook his head.
“That’s- that’s not what I meant,” Hongjoong tries to recover, but Seonghwa is either not hearing him at all or can barely hear him over his thoughts.
Down the hall Hongjoong could hear doors open, and he knows that they can see Seonghwa’s fists, eyes wide as he spiraled, and they can see Hongjoong holding his wrists, trying to figure out how to help.
Wooyoung is the first one that reaches them, slipping in between the two of them, making Hongjoong take a step back, releasing Seonghwa’s wrists.
“I’ve showered Hyung,” Wooyoung says before pressing himself into Seonghwa, hugging loosely, making sure that Seonghwa can escape if he has too.
“Hyung?” Yunho slips around them, placing a hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder. Mingi does the same on the otherside and Seonghwa jerks abruptly.
“I- '' he starts, and Hongjoong shakes his head.
“Don’t apologize.”
“Okay,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong nods slowly.
“Let’s get out of the kitchen,” Jongho suggests, and there’s a collective, silent agreement, and they shuffle towards the living room, despite Seonghwa’s weak protests.
“You’ll be okay,” San says quietly to Seonghwa, whose eyes are moist as he panicked.
Hongjoong comes to the realization that all of them were ready and willing to sleep on the floor in a pile, and Seonghwa seems to reach the same conclusion, eyes widening.
“No-“ he starts, tears threatening to overflow as he shook his head rapidly.
“Why don’t we get some blankets?” Yunho suggests, and Seonghwa’s mouth closes with a click, biting the inside of his cheek.
“Blankets…” he repeats.
“Would that be okay?” Wooyoung asks, looking to Seonghwa, who swallows, glancing to the floor, and then at each of them.
“I-“ he starts, getting stuck on the words, the group remains silent, waiting, careful not to seem too eager to hear his response.
“I’m sorry I-“ he stops again and there’s a beat of silence before they all start up, trampling over each other’s words.
“Don’t worry about it-“
“You don’t have to apologize-“
“No need for sorry’s Hyung-“
And so on and so forth until they drift into another comfortable silence.
“Your back-“ Seonghwa says as he looks at Mingi, and Mingi shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about me. We have tomorrow off anyway. Or today,” he says, and Hongjoong becomes increasingly aware of the time that is creeping closer and closer to 3 in the morning.
“I- okay,” Seonghwa whispers with a grimace, and there’s excitement brewing in the air as they disperse, grabbing pillows and comforters and blankets, piling them together, smoothing them and making sure there’s more than enough room for everybody, someone staying with Seonghwa at all times, distracting him whenever his eyes strayed to the kitchen or to the walls, anything that wasn't the bandmates.
Soon enough the pile was set, and they guided Seonghwa to it gently, waiting to get his seal of approval.
“How many blankets?” he asked and everyone glanced at each other.
“7. There’s 7 blankets,” Wooyoung says and Seonghwa freezes.
“Do we need to add another?” Yunho asked, and Seonghwa quickly nodded. Yunho, Wooyoung, and San leapt up at the same time, scurrying to find another blanket, only returning when they were successful, slipping the blanket on top of the pile.
“Better?” San asked, and Seonghwa breathed out.
“A bit. I guess,” he said, hands coming together to awkwardly pick at his nails.
“Are you just about ready to go to bed?” Mingi asked, and Seonghwa stepped closer to the fluffy pile.
“No one step on it,” he mumbled, instantly looking guilty, but they all just nodded, watching Seonghwa crouch before standing back up.
“I have to shower,” he says, and there’s a sprinkling of disappointment throughout the room, a reminder.
“I’m not compromising on that,” Seonghwa asserts, eyes looking panicked, far too ready to defend his choice.
“Someone will sit in the bathroom with you then,” Hongjoong says, and Seonghwa sighs, shoulders slumping as he nods, knowing that the ‘someone’ would most likely be Hongjoong.
So they go to their room together, and Hongjoong watches as Seonghwa picks through his clothes, taking great care to avoid certain textures (and Hongjoong makes note of the things he did grab, just in case) before heading to the bathroom, Hongjoong following close behind.
“I have 5 minutes to undress, you come in, shower is 10, you leave and I have 5,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong nods once, watching him slip into the bathroom. He appreciates the refresher, although disappointed at the relief he feels after getting it. He shouldn’t need a refresher. He should’ve been home earlier so Seonghwa didn’t get this bad and-
“I can feel your guilt through the door,” Seonghwa calls, and Hongjoong looks down.
“I’m-“ he starts, but is quickly interrupted.
“If I don’t have to apologize then you don’t either,” he says, a sliver of something more like himself, and Hongjoong is about to argue back when the water starts and Hongjoong slips into the bathroom, pulling up the stopwatch on his phone.
“Can you talk?” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong swallows.
“About what?” Hongjoong asked, any fake confidence he had slipping away like water through his fingertips.
“Anything? Your day? Our plans?” Seonghwa said, and Hongjoong nodded quickly.
“Yes. Of course. Ah... I’m looking forward to sleeping, I hope you are too, ah...” he keeps rambling about nothing as the seconds tick by, Seonghwa humming at the appropriate times, laughing at Hongjoong’s halfhearted jokes until the water stops at 8 minutes and 42 seconds.
“Alright. 5 minutes,” Hongjoong says.
“5 minutes,” Seonghwa repeats, and Hongjoong slips out the door, restarting his stopwatch.
Seonghwa comes out a little while later, smiling slightly, looking much more relieved and comfortable than before, following Hongjoong out of the room and to the pile of pillows where the rest of their band was waiting patiently.
“Hyung you need to shower,” Mingi pipes up, eyes on Hongjoong, and Hongjoong can see the way Seonghwa’s brain switches gears abruptly before Wooyoung places a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Go shower, we’ve got this.”
Hongjoong watched them for a moment, watching Yeosang pull Seonghwa's arm gently, getting him to sit down on the pile, soothing him softly. Seonghwa looked up at Hongjoong lingering in the doorway and smiled slightly, albeit awkwardly, before nodding, and Hongjoong left to go shower.
It’s the fastest shower Hongjoong has ever taken, although it’s also probably the most thorough. He hurries out of the bathroom and slips into the pile beside Seonghwa, finding himself immediately comfortable on the plush blankets and pillows. San is practically draped over top of Seonghwa, who appears to be counting under his breath, and after a moment of watching, Hongjoong realizes that he’s counting San’s breaths. He also has a hand extended next to him, resting lightly against Jongho’s wrist. Seonghwa still turns to look at Hongjoong after a moment, waiting for a few seconds until he reaches an okay number.
“Thank you,” he whispers. “All of you.”
Half of them are asleep, the other half murmurs sleepily and once again Hongjoong finds himself feeling grateful for this band, slipping under the covers next to Seonghwa, in the space that was obviously saved for him.