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It always starts right in the middle of his chest, this gnawing, uncomfortable feeling that makes his heart feel heavy — like it’s desperately trying to get away. Away from his brain, his thoughts perhaps.
He overthinks too much.
He’s gnawing softly at the edges of his nail beds, a habit he started after learning to stop biting his nails whenever he gets anxious. It’s not better or worse than biting his nails, really. It’s a little past seven as he walks along the sidewalk, a couple of blocks away from his apartment. He’s heading home after staying at university longer than expected, the stress of the new semester building up like an oncoming storm in the back of his mind. He has so much to do yet it feels like there’s too little time.
He worries too much.
Chan and Changbin always tell him so — the oldest pressing soft, gentle kisses to his cheeks while Changbin rests his lips on his knuckles, the weight of his lover’s hands on his own soothing. They care about him so much, tell him all the time, show him even more so, and yet he worries.
He worries about classes, about the future, whether or not his boys care for him, if he’s good enough for them, if maybe they’re better off without him, he worries about everything even if he knows —deep down— there’s no reason to worry about any of it.
Maybe that’s why his anxiety always feels like his heart is trying to tear itself out of his chest. His thoughts are too much for his own heart to cope with.
He feels too much.
When he reaches the front door of his apartment the anxiety’s almost overbearing, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his fingertips tremble. On days like this, it doesn’t need much to set it off. He’s not even sure what set it off in the first place. Maybe it was the americano that he spilled all over his notes, or the stranger that had given him an odd look while passing by. Maybe it was the fact that his boys hadn’t texted him all day. Maybe it was everything combined.
“You were supposed to set a timer so our food wouldn’t burn!” Chan’s voice comes from the kitchen, followed by Changbin’s.
“I thought you did!” Neither of them sound angry, the warm sound of Chan’s laughter heard. Their bickering almost makes Jisung smile but the heavy weight in his chest is overbearing as he takes off his shoes, puts away his backpack and slips into their bedroom without saying a word.
He changes into a pair of joggers, probably Changbin’s, and a clean shirt and crawls under the sheets of their king sized bed — big enough for all three of them to sleep in most nights. The warmth of the duvet calms him down a little, his breathing settling as he curls up in a ball, the top of his head sticking out slightly.
He doesn’t feel like talking. Doesn’t feel like explaining why he’s feeling the way he is when he doesn’t even know exactly why, the weight on his chest becoming more heavy again — like there’s ropes constricting him, tightening down. It comes and goes like waves on the shore.
“Baby?” Chan’s voice comes softly, the bed dipping down with his weight. He pushes the covers down just enough that Jisung’s face is shown, eyes somewhat hidden behind the shorter strands of his hair in the front.
“Do you want to talk about it?” The oldest brushes the hair out of his face, fingertips gentle and comforting on Jisung’s warm skin.
Jisung shakes his head.
He hears socked footsteps and not much later Changbin’s there as well, sitting down on the floor next to their bed, reaching out to take a hold of Jisung’s left hand. “Do you want cuddles?”
Jisung nods softly.
They know him so well by now. Neither of them ever pressing him to talk about it, knowing he will come to them eventually, when he feels lighter again.
Simply having them there is more than enough in this moment. The two of them feel stable and safe, coming up on either side of him, holding him close as they whisper sweet nothings amongst them, Chan’s fingertips running through his hair and Changbin’s lips grazing each and every one of his knuckles.
“I’ve never felt happier than when I’m with you two.” Changbin’s voice is quiet, almost inaudible but the words are loud and clear to Jisung’s ears. Out of the three of them Changbin expresses his feelings the least in words, his love language being touch — unless it’s written lyrics.
Chan smiles, fitting his fingers into Jisung’s before he reaches over and kisses Changbin, slowly and soft, above Jisung while holding onto his hand carefully. It doesn’t make him overthink or worry anymore, the ropes around his heart loosening the longer they lay with him. Instead it makes him feel loved, cared for, happy.
They love each other so much. They love him so much. They tell him as such. Tell him about their day, apologise for not texting due to simply being busy. He says it’s okay. It is okay, more than. He’s starting to feel light again.
He overthinks too much, worries too much, feels too much.
Jisung lets out a long breath, fingers no longer trembling, heart beating gently.
“Better, angel?” Chan asks, and he nods.
“Better.”
Changbin moves to crawl under the sheets with him, throwing one leg over Jisung’s so he can lay as close to the other as possible. Chan follows quickly after, spooning him as he lays on his side, arm coming up to rest on Jisung’s chest, fingertips laying gently over his heart. The suddenness of it all makes him let out a soft laugh, smiling from ear to ear as they coddle him.
His heart is at ease again, his thoughts no longer scattered and he sits up slightly to press soft, gentle kisses to both his lover’s lips, hands in theirs as he mumbles, “I love you.”
They know.
“We love you too.” He knows.
Even if he overthinks too much, worries too much, feels too much. He knows.