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Chanyeol may not be the smartest person in the world, but he knows when something is up.
Junmyeon is quiet, quieter than usual, taking small sips of his too-sweet coffee (which, in all honesty, clashes so greatly with his otherwise doom-and-gloom like appearance that Chanyeol had to hold back laughter when he first caught the other drinking it) and barely even nibbling on his coffee cake. Even if Junmyeon isn’t chatty by any means, the small, absentminded hums and nods of agreement that he gives Chanyeol are unnerving, so much so that, when they get back to Junmyeon’s apartment, Chanyeol can’t keep his mouth shut. “Are you okay?”
Junmyeon tenses, not visibly, but Chanyeol can feel the sudden tightness in his shoulder blades under his arm. “‘M fine.”
Chanyeol looks at him, really looks at him , noting the way that Junmyeon is hunched in on himself, curled up ever so slightly that, had Chanyeol not known how strict Junmyeon is about his posture, he wouldn’t have noticed it otherwise. His eyes lack the usual fire that Chanyeol loves, that pretty little twinkle in his eyes that only means trouble for Chanyeol and his poor, poor heart. No, they’re dull, lifeless, and he can barely even look Chanyeol in the eye, can barely even bring his eyes up from where they’re deadlocked on the floor.
Something is wrong, terribly wrong.
“Come here,” Chanyeol says, opening his arms wide, caging Junmyeon against his chest once the latter steps into them. “What happened? You can tell me.”
Junmyeon lets out an uncharacteristic sniffle, nuzzling uncharacteristically further against Chanyeol’s chest. Chanyeol almost flails in panic because Junmyeon does not act like this . “Just a bad day.” Junmyeon replies, voice small, muffled in the fabric of Chanyeol’s sweater.
Chanyeol doesn’t really know what to do when Junmyeon gets like this, mostly because it almost never happens. Junmyeon is loud, begrudgingly happy (begrudgingly, because being happy doesn’t really fit his aesthetic, or whatever he says), feisty when tested, sweet when he thinks no one can catch him in the act. The last time he got into one of these moods, Chanyeol had Kyungsoo with him- solid, level headed Kyungsoo that always seems to know what to do in every situation. Chanyeol, on the other hand, is a disaster; a giant, walking pastel disaster that can barely even color match, let alone comfort a broody goth witch that he also happens to be in love with.
What a mess, this is.
“Do you need me to do anything?” Chanyeol asks, willing his voice to come off strong, grounding. “I can make you something to eat, or I can draw you a bath, or I could-”
“Just hold me,” Junmyeon’s hands grab onto Chanyeol’s sweater, sharp nails digging into the thread, almost piercing Chanyeol’s abdomen. Chanyeol only pulls him closer, waddling them over to Junmyeon’s couch and stretching out to let Junmyeon lay on top of him. He even runs a gentle hand through Junmyeon's dark hair, gently scratching around until Junmyeon is putty in his arms. Chanyeol gives great cuddles. He can do this.
They lay there until the sun sets, when the only light in Junmyeon’s tiny apartment comes from his cheap floor lamp that he shoved into the corner behind his reading chair. Junmyeon likes corners, Chanyeol always catches him curled up in one whenever he-
“-Chanyeol?” Junmyeon’s soft voice interrupts Chanyeol’s thoughts, his pretty face a couple inches from his own. He’s not back to his old self (a simple cuddle isn’t gonna solve everything ), but he doesn’t look as sad as he did earlier. “Did you hear me?”
“Sorry,” Chanyeol blushes, embarrassed. Junmyeon graces him with a small, tiny smile to make him feel better.
“Can we take a bath?” Junmyeon asks, and his face does the thing where he looks like Chanyeol is gonna say no , like it’s even possible for Chanyeol to deny him anything. “I just.. feel gross and I know you’re probably sweating from me just laying on you so I just thought-”
“It’s okay,” Chanyeol cuts him off, gently. He doesn’t like this unsure, insecure Junmyeon. “We can take a bath. I’ll even let you bring one of your candles.”
Junmyeon doesn’t really perk up at that, but he does give Chanyeol another tiny, sad smile. Chanyeol presses a kiss to the top of his head, rubs a hand underneath the hood of his cloak. Anything to chase away the sadness lingering in his tiny body.
Junmyeon’s bathtub is Junmyeon sized, but they made it work. Chanyeol rests his back against the side of the tub, parting his long legs to let Junmyeon sit between them, his back to Chanyeol’s chest. Chanyeol even threw in a fruity bath bomb, another thing that Junmyeon secretly loves that doesn’t really fit into his aesthetic.
And the bath is nice, relaxing, and Chanyeol can feel the tension draining from Junmyeon’s shoulders then he massages them, spreading Junmyeon’s fruity soap across his back. Junmyeon is once again putty as Chanyeol gently washes him down, soft and pink when Chanyeol helps him out of the water and hands him a warm towel. The lingering sadness from before is all but gone from his face, replaced by a small, small smile that warms Chanyeol from the inside out. He doesn’t say anything when Chanyeol leads him out of the bathroom, nor does he speak up when Chanyeol helps him change into his pajamas, or even when Chanyeol snags a pair of his boxers and climbs into his bed with him. He only snuggles up to him when they’re both settled, humming when Chanyeol runs another hand through his hair. “Feeling better?”
Junmyeon nods. The top of his head softly nicks against Chanyeol’s chin, but Chanyeol doesn’t mind it. “Thank you.”
“I love you, you know,” Chanyeol says, pecking the top of his head again.
“Yeah,” Junmyeon sighs, snuggling closer. “I love you too.”
“Did you wanna talk about it?” Chanyeol asks.
“Not really,” Junmyeon replies. “I was just not feeling good, but you being here made it better.”
Chanyeol’s chest warms, and he pulls Junmyeon impossibly tighter against him. “I’ll always be here.”
“I know,” Junmyeon says, and his voice is sure, the closest it’s been to his normal tone the entire night. “I know.”