Chapter Text
Hongjoong glanced up at the clock as he shuffled his egg-and-cheese sandwich onto a plate—7:20 AM, and no sign of Wooyoung. He sighed, setting his plate down beside his water on the dining table and hurrying down the hall to Wooyoung and San’s room. He poked his head in to find San awake, staring at the ceiling, and Wooyoung still fast asleep.
“Morning, Sannie,” he murmured as he crossed the room to Wooyoung’s bed.
San blinked, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him. He pursed his lips, shaking Wooyoung’s shoulder lightly.
“Wooyoungie, time to get up,” he said, to which Wooyoung grumbled in protest. “I know, but you have an exam at 8. You can’t miss it, remember?”
Wooyoung squirmed a bit, and Hongjoong shook him again.
“Wooyoung, you’ve gotta get up now.”
“Mm. Wha’ time is it?”
“Almost 7:30. Your neuro exam is in half an hour.”
Wooyoung’s eyes flew open. “Oh, fuck.”
Hongjoong jumped back as he scrambled out of bed, swaying a bit with the residue of sleep.
“I was supposed to get up early to study, fuck.”
He knelt down and started digging through a pile of books and papers at the foot of his bed, finally uncovering his neuro textbook.
“Okay, okay. I can cram really quick now, right? Yeah, and it’s fine if I’m like, 5 minutes late… So I’ll do that, and it should be fine! And then I can come right back to the apartment afterwards and eat and shower and stuff. It’ll be fine. Okay, chapter… uh… fuck, what was I supposed to study again?”
Hongjoong gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he pulled out his laptop to find the syllabus, heading back towards the door. San hadn’t moved, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. Hongjoong bit his lip, holding in an exhale. It would be useless to ask if he was okay when he so obviously wasn’t, and he wasn’t sure that San would even reply if he did ask, so he settled for brushing a hand through San’s dirty hair.
“Try to get up soon, hmm? Jongho doesn’t like to eat alone, maybe you can have breakfast with him?”
San made a soft sound of acknowledgement, his eyes finally flickering to meet Hongjoong’s. They were dull, and Hongjoong didn’t know what else to say to him.
“Get up soon, ok?” he repeated.
“Ok.” San’s voice was hoarse. Hongjoong stroked his hair again before turning back to Wooyoung.
“Good luck, Wooyoungie. I hope your exam goes well.”
Wooyoung grunted, engrossed in his textbook. Hongjoong slipped out of their room, pulling the door shut and heading back towards the kitchen, where he found Jongho pouring himself a glass of orange juice.
“Morning, hyung,” Jongho said, glancing from Hongjoong to the egg-and-cheese sandwich on the table. “Is that yours?”
Hongjoong started to nod, but stopped before Jongho could look back at him. “It’s yours if you want it!”
“Are you sure? Did you already eat? I was kinda craving one, but I can just eat fruit if-”
“No, yeah, you can have it!” Hongjoong said, cutting him off before he could talk himself into just eating fruit again.
“Ah, thanks, hyung,” Jongho replied, his eyes crinkling warmly.
Hongjoong returned the smile and swatted him towards the table, grabbing his lunch bag and a granola bar to eat in the car.
“I’m off to work. Eat well, see you this evening!”
“Bye, hyung!”
Hongjoong caught a glimpse of Jongho taking a bite of the egg-and-cheese as he finished lacing up his work boots. He patted his pocket for his phone, wallet, keys, and gloves—all there—and hurried out the door. His car was parked closer today, thank goodness, but it was still a couple minutes of walking to reach it. His mind drifted to San’s lifeless eyes, and he bit his lip. This depressive episode was worse than San’s previous ones. It was worse than any of Hongjoong’s sister’s, too, and Hongjoong was feeling out of his depth. He’d only been about halfway through AP Psych before his dad had passed away and he’d dropped out of high school to start working, but he remembered that sleeping a lot and slowed movements and reactions were physical symptoms of depression, and San was frequently displaying both of them on top of the other symptoms Hongjoong had previously noticed. He knew that even though it was counterintuitive, being active could help with depression, so he kept trying to encourage San to get up and about, but he didn’t want to push too hard.
At least Jongho seemed to be doing somewhat better. He’d spent the first few weeks of the summer inpatient for his eating disorder and the rest of it seeing a therapist and nutritionist—he’d gained most of the weight back over the course of the summer, but still had a bit more to go before he was in a healthy weight range. He said he knew logically that he was still underweight, but that his brain was a real asshole to him sometimes. Hongjoong worried that he might get worse again without even realizing. He’d seen Jongho skip meals a few times this semester already, and he seemed to exercise more than he should, given that he was trying to gain weight. He came to Hongjoong for reassurance sometimes, asking if it was okay for him to have seconds or eat dessert. Hongjoong always encouraged him, but he was afraid it might not be enough. He resolved to keep a closer eye on him.
“Morning, Hongjoong,” his boss said, jerking him back to reality.
It was a bit unnerving, he thought to himself, that he’d been so caught up in his mind that he hadn’t registered the drive to work, parking, or walking into the barn.
“Hongjoong?”
Hongjoong shook himself. “Yes, sorry! Good morning, Jen. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you. And you? You seem deep in thought this morning.”
Hongjoong’s ears reddened. “I’m doing fine, thanks. I’m sorry about that.”
“No worries. Can you start with waters? Gene mentioned that Sweetie-Pie’s looked leaky after finishing up with night check yesterday, but I’m not convinced that he’s not just splashing around in it. You know how he is.”
“Sure. Has anyone fed yet?”
“Jimin is on it now. She should be done before you finish waters, so she can help you out when she finishes. Sound good?”
“Yep, I’ll go get started.”
“Great. I’ll be in the office if you need anything.”
Hongjoong smiled at her before heading for the water hose. He peeked into Sweetie-Pie’s stall as he passed by, and the giant horse pinned his ears grumpily. Who had met the creature and decided to name him Sweetie-Pie, Hongjoong did not know. His stomach grumbled, and he sighed. He’d forgotten to eat his granola bar while driving in. It was going to be a long day.
—
By the time Hongjoong got home, he was absolutely starving. He’d packed a light lunch, which would’ve been fine if he’d eaten the egg-and-cheese, but it wasn’t enough for him on an empty stomach. He gritted his teeth against the pangs of hunger as he pulled into a farther parking spot, having looped twice around the lot with not a single closer space open. The seven-minute walk felt more like fifteen, but he finally pushed his way through the door and scrambled to unlace his mucky boots. He hurried to the kitchen and washed his calloused hands, the water coming away brown at first. He had barely dried his hands before Mingi stumbled through the back door, his breath coming in sharp pants. Hongjoong met his eyes and found them full of tears.
“Mingi-yah? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t… I c-can’t, hyung, I can’t breathe right an-and my heart feels wrong and I think someth- something’s wrong, I don’t-”
Hongjoong rushed over to him, arms outstretched, and Mingi fell against him, trembling.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“N-no, I think I’m d-dying, I need-”
“Mingi, this seems like another panic attack, aegi. Remember how you had one last month?”
Mingi shook his head, gasping for breath. “This is w-worse, hyung.”
“Let’s sit down, okay? And I’ll check your pulse, c’mon.”
Hongjoong guided Mingi to the couch, where he collapsed against the cushions, still clutching Hongjoong’s shirt. Hongjoong sat beside him and gently untangled one of his arms, pressing his fingers to his wrist.
“Your pulse is consistent, aegi, just a bit fast. It really seems like you’re having another panic attack. Remember how you felt like something was wrong with your lungs last time, but you were feeling better by the time we got to urgent care? I think you just have to wait for it to pass again.”
A fresh burst of tears fell down Mingi’s cheeks.
“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it’s going to be ok. Panic attacks aren’t physically dangerous, just really, really scary, yeah?”
Mingi let out a little sob, his breath still coming in gasps. Hongjoong took his hand and squeezed it.
“Do you want a hug?”
Mingi bit back another sob and nodded shakily. Hongjoong gathered him up and pulled him against his chest, letting Mingi’s head fall to his shoulder. Mingi’s fingers tangled back into his shirt, and he wrapped his arms around the taller man’s trembling body. He wasn’t sure how good of a hug it was, given how much taller Mingi was, but he felt him relax slightly into the contact regardless. Gradually, his breaths began to slow and deepen until he was just sniffling here and there, his damp face pressed into the crook of Hongjoong’s neck. Hongjoong ran his hands up and down Mingi’s back.
“Better?”
“Yeah,” Mingi croaked. “Sorry.”
“There’s no need to apologize. Panic attacks are scary, and it’s hard to remember that they won’t hurt you. You did a great job, Mingi-yah.”
“Thank you for helping me, hyungie.”
“Of course.” Hongjoong’s stomach gave a loud growl, and Mingi let out a wet giggle.
“Hungry?”
“Just a bit. I’m going to make something quick for dinner. Want some ramyeon?”
“Yes, please.”
Hongjoong made to get up, but Mingi rolled on top of him, pinning him effectively to the couch. Hongjoong poked his tummy and he squealed, rolling away and thunking onto the hardwood.
“Hyung! Ouch.”
“Poor princess,” Hongjoong teased, getting to his feet and offering him a hand. “C’mon, let’s cook.”
—
They had barely gotten the water boiling before the door was flung open again and Wooyoung stormed in, flinging a packet of papers to the ground with a thunderous expression on his face.
“This is bullshit! I actually studied for this one, and I still failed!”
Hongjoong furrowed his brow. “You got your grade back for today’s exam already?”
“No, this is a different one! I really studied for it, honest! I reread my notes twice the day before! And look at this!”
Wooyoung grabbed the rumpled packet from the floor and delivered it to Hongjoong. At the top, in red, was 58%.
“It’s not fair, there were too many open response questions! How am I supposed to get all of those right, even if I study?”
Yeosang and Jongho trotted down the stairs then, and Yeosang gave Wooyoung an assessing look.
“Maybe you’re not studying very effectively,” Yeosang said, shrugging.
Wooyoung gathered himself to his full height, which admittedly wasn’t very tall, looking incensed nonetheless.
“That’s easy for you to say, asshole! You don’t even have to study! You just show up and get an A!”
Yeosang glanced from Wooyoung to a grimacing Hongjoong, then to Mingi, who was making a slicing “cut it out” motion at his throat.
“Ah… I’m going to the gym,” Yeosang said, making a break for the door. “Bye!”
“Do you want to go get milkshakes, Wooyoungie-hyung?” Jongho asked. “You love milkshakes, that might make you feel better.”
Wooyoung, still scowling, seemed to consider this for a moment before heaving a sigh and nodding.
“I guess that would make me feel a bit better.”
He took his exam back from Hongjoong, shoving it in his bag, which he tossed onto the couch. He slunk towards the door behind Jongho, seemingly embarrassed by his outburst.
“Oh, Wooyoung, Jongho, wait a moment, I’m going to see if Sannie wants to go with you,” Hongjoong said, handing the wooden spoon to Mingi and hurrying down the hall.
He popped into San and Wooyoung’s room and found San in the same position as he was in that morning, staring up at the ceiling. His sheets were crumpled at the foot of his bed, and he was wearing a different shirt. His hair was still unwashed.
“Sannie, Wooyoung and Jongho are going to get milkshakes. Will you go with them? Wooyoung is upset about his grades and I think Jongho might be having a harder kind of day… This morning he was considering just eating fruit for breakfast. Can you keep an eye on them for me?”
San blinked slowly and shifted his head to look at Hongjoong.
“You don’t have to if you really aren’t feeling up to it, but it might be good for you to get out of the apartment… Can you go with them?”
“Mm.” There was a long pause. “Yeah.”
“Thank you, Sannie. They’re about to leave now. Is that ok?”
“Mhm.”
Hongjoong offered his hand and San took it, slowly pulling himself upright. He didn’t let go of Hongjoong’s hand once he was on his feet, and Hongjoong laced their fingers together as he led San down the hall. Jongho and Wooyoung’s faces lit up at the sight of him.
“Sannie!!” Wooyoung cheered, waving him over and taking his other hand, pulling him away from Hongjoong.
San’s lips twitched upwards.
“Ready for milkshakes?” Jongho asked, giving his shoulder a little squeeze.
“Ready for milkshakes,” San echoed, letting Wooyoung tug him out the door.
Hongjoong smiled as the door slammed shut, relieved.
“Hyung, the ramyeon’s ready!” said Mingi.
Hongjoong took the bowl that Mingi was holding out to him with a nod of thanks and headed to the table. The ramyeon burned his mouth on his first bite, but he was too hungry to care. He downed his portion in the time it took Mingi to eat a third of his, then went in for seconds.
“You can finish the rest, hyung. You seem really hungry.”
“Are you sure, did you eat enough?”
“I had a big bowl, don’t worry. And I don’t do manual labor all day.”
“Mm, fanks,” Hongjoong said, shoving his mouth full of ramyeon.
The front door creaked open and clicked shut.
“Seonghwa-hyung, is that you?” Mingi called.
“Yes, how did you know?” Seonghwa asked, poking his head around the corner.
“No one else closes the door that politely,” Mingi replied. “How was your day?”
“It was… fine,” Seonghwa said carefully. “How was yours?”
Mingi’s face fell. “Uh… I had another panic attack.”
“Oh no, are you doing ok now, aegi?” Seonghwa strode across the kitchen, hovering over him at the dining table.
Mingi leaned into him. “Mhm. Hongjoong-hyung was really helpful. I’m just kinda tired now.”
Seonghwa rested a hand on the back of his neck. “Why don’t you go lie down for a bit? Is Yeosangie home? Maybe he can lie with you?”
Mingi shook his head. “He’s at the gym. It was a whole thing.”
Seonghwa raised his eyebrows. “A whole thing?”
“I’ll tell you about it later,” Hongjoong said, and Seonghwa nodded.
“Go lie down, aegi,” Seonghwa told Mingi. “Hyung will be with you in a little bit.”
“Mm, okay.”
Mingi got up, gave his bowl a quick rinse, and placed it in the dishwasher.
“Thanks, hyungie,” he murmured as he passed by Hongjoong on the way to his bedroom.
Hongjoong twisted in his seat to smile at him fondly.
“What happened with Yeosangie earlier?” Seonghwa asked after they heard his door swing shut.
Hongjoong sighed. “Wooyoung was upset because he failed an exam, and Yeosang came down and suggested he wasn’t studying properly. I mean, we both know that Yeosang has a point, but it wasn’t the right time for it. Yeosang went off to the gym, and Wooyoung, Jongho, and San are getting milkshakes.”
“Ah. Well, I’m sure they’ll make up quickly. They’re close, and they’re good about talking things out.”
Hongjoong nodded. “I’m not too worried.”
Seonghwa smiled, but it looked weaker than usual.
“You didn’t seem so sure when you said you were fine earlier. What’s going on? Is it your parents again?” Hongjoong asked.
Seonghwa exhaled. “Yeah. They found out about the one-credit psych class I’m taking this semester and they’re not happy about it. There’s no way they’ll let me switch my major. And I can’t lie to them about it, you know how bad of a liar I am…”
Hongjoong stood up and pulled Seonghwa into a hug. “I’m sorry.”
Seonghwa’s shoulders shook just slightly, but Hongjoong felt him straighten up and clench his jaw.
“It’s ok. I hate business, but I guess it could be worse. It could be math, or… chem.” He laughed shakily. “And I should really count my blessings. I know they love me, and they’re only making me do this because they think it’s best for me.”
“That doesn’t make it any less unpleasant,” Hongjoong said softly.
Seonghwa sighed. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Thanks, Hongjoongie. I appreciate that.”
Seonghwa stepped back, holding Hongjoong at arms’ length for a moment before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Hongjoong sputtered and wiggled in his grip, and Seonghwa laughed.
“Well, I’d better eat something quick before I go lie down with our Mingi.” He released Hongjoong and went over to poke through the fridge. “Hm, salad, curry, …Mm! Leftover kimbap, I’ll have that.”
Hongjoong rinsed his bowl and wedged it in the dishwasher.
“Is it full?” Seonghwa asked.
“Just about. There should be room for your container. Could you start it real quick after you eat?”
Seonghwa nodded in agreement, his mouth full of kimbap. A phone started to ring, and Hongjoong patted his pockets, pulling out his phone. It was Yunho. Hongjoong dried his hands on his shirt and answered quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hyung. Hi.” Yunho sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth, and alarm bells rang in Hongjoong’s head.
“Is your pain worse than usual? Should I come pick you up? Where are you?”
“M’ at the studio. It's a nine.”
Hongjoong’s eyes widened. “Okay, just keep breathing. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”
“Mm. Thanks, hyung.”
“Of course.”
The line cut, and Hongjoong shoved his phone in his pocket, scrambling for the door.
“Yunho?” asked Seonghwa, worrying his lip between his teeth.
“He said it's a nine,” Hongjoong replied, jamming his feet in his shoes.
“Wait, take some ibuprofen with you,” said Seonghwa, digging through a drawer near the sink and grabbing a bottle of ibuprofen, which he pressed into Hongjoong’s hands.
“Thanks. Be back soon.”
“Drive safe, don’t speed!”
Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “I won’t! …Much.”
He scooted out the door before Seonghwa could scold him and ran for his car, the cool evening air filling his lungs. Yunho was often in pain—he'd had an IUD put in because his uterus kept being an asshole even though he'd been on T for a while, but it seemed to be causing more bleeding and pain rather than less of it. The pain alone sounded awful; Hongjoong couldn't imagine the dysphoria that came along with it.
His car sputtered to life, protesting a little as he shifted into second gear on his way out of the parking lot, but settling nicely into third on the narrow access road that led towards campus. He wasn't quite familiar enough with the road to avoid all the potholes; he winced each time he hit one, not quite doubling the speed limit. It wasn't like it was a life-or-death scenario, but Yunho’s pain tolerance was quite high, and Hongjoong had never heard his voice like that before.
He slowed as he turned onto the main campus road, his car’s suspension squeaking over the speed bumps. The parking lot for the dance gym wasn't far; luckily it was mostly empty when Hongjoong pulled in. He shoved the bottle of ibuprofen into his pocket and dashed to the front doors, heaving a sigh of relief when he found them unlocked. One of Yunho’s dance friends—Hyunjin, maybe—was waiting in the lobby, fidgeting anxiously with the hem of his shirt.
“Are you here for Yunho-hyung?” asked maybe-Hyunjin, twisting the sweat-damp material between his fingers.
“Yeah. You've been with him?”
“Mm-hm, I thought he looked pale when he got here, but he didn't say anything, so I thought he was fine, but he wasn't moving like he usually does, and he just kind of… fell… He didn't pass out or anything! All he said it's that he's in a lot of pain, and he was holding his stomach… Do you think it's his appendix? Should we take him to the hospital?”
Hongjoong bit his lip as he followed maybe-Hyunjin down the hall.
“This isn't unprecedented for him,” he said carefully. “It's probably not his appendix, unless he says it's different this time.”
“This time?” maybe-Hyunjin echoed, pushing the door to one of the practice rooms open.
Yunho was curled up by the big mirror with someone hovering over him; he was clutching their hand, his knuckles white.
“Look, Hyunjinnie is back with your hyung,” said the person beside him.
Yunho lifted his head, searching. Relief bled through the pain in his eyes when Hongjoong knelt next to him.
“Hey,” Hongjoong said softly. “Is it still a nine?”
Yunho grimaced. “Kind of. It comes in waves. Not so bad for the past few minutes, but… Ah-”
The person holding Yunho’s hand inhaled sharply, their small hand enveloped in Yunho’s crushing grip.
“Sorry, Felix,” Yunho bit out, moving to pull away.
“It's fine,” Felix said quickly, squeezing before Yunho could let go.
“I brought ibuprofen,” Hongjoong said. “I'm going to give you some now, and you can have some Tylenol when we get back, ok?”
Yunho nodded; Hongjoong caught a glimpse of tears in the corners of his eyes.
“Hyunjin, can you bring me his water bottle?”
“Sure,” Hyunjin said, disappearing for a moment before pressing a half-full water bottle into his hand.
Hongjoong pulled the bottle of ibuprofen from his pocket and tipped three pills into his palm.
“Can you sit up for a moment, aegi?”
Yunho groaned.
“Would it help to lean on me?” Felix asked.
Yunho made an affirmative sound, and Felix sat down beside him.
“I'm going to sit you up on three, okay? Felix will be right behind you,” said Hongjoong. “Ready? One, two… three.”
He pulled Yunho into sitting position; Yunho ground his teeth together harshly at the movement, curling in on himself hard enough to fall forward onto Hongjoong instead of backward against Felix's chest. He buried his face in Hongjoong’s shirt, letting out a faint whimper. Hongjoong rubbed his back and felt his muscles loosen slightly.
“If you tilt your head back, I can give you the ibuprofen from here, ok?”
“Okay,” Yunho rasped. He slowly tipped his head back, away from Hongjoong’s chest. His face was pale and sticky with tears. Hongjoong dropped the pills onto his tongue, then pressed the water bottle to his lips, carefully giving him a sip of water. Yunho swallowed, then let his head fall forward against Hongjoong again.
“Is it the same kind of pain as usual, just worse?” Hongjoong whispered.
“Yeah,” Yunho replied, sounding utterly exhausted.
“I’m sorry, aegi.”
Yunho let out a shaky sigh.
“Shall we get you home?”
“Yeah,” Yunho mumbled into Hongjoong’s shirt. “I think this wave is over. Probably five minutes until it gets really bad again.”
“Let’s get you to the car while it’s not really bad, then. I parked right out front. Do you think you can walk?”
“Yeah,” Yunho said again. Then, faintly but mischievously, “It’s not like you could carry me, anyway. Tiny hyung.”
Hongjoong gasped, faking offense. There were a couple faint snickers, and Hongjoong felt Yunho startle, as if he’d forgotten that Felix and Hyunjin were there.
“I’m really sorry for messing up our practice,” he said, the little mirth he’d had completely drained from his voice.
“Oh no, don’t apologize!” Felix replied. “It’s not your fault at all.”
“You can’t control these kinds of things,” Hyunjin agreed.
“Can we help you get to the car?” asked Felix.
“You can put your arm around my shoulders,” Hyunjin offered. “I’m taller than your hyung.”
“Hey,” Hongjoong said playfully. “Enough about how short I am.”
“Don’t worry, Lixie’s hands are probably smaller than yours,” Hyunjin said, his eyes crinkling, and Felix pouted.
Hongjoong huffed out a laugh. “Alright, let’s get going. Felix, can you grab Yunho’s stuff? Hyunjin and I will get him to the car.”
Felix agreed, taking Yunho’s water and hurrying off to grab his bag. Hyunjin and Hongjoong lifted Yunho to his feet, Hongjoong soothing him as he leaned heavily on Hyunjin, his face scrunched up in pain.
“I know, aegi. Let’s get it over with, okay?”
Yunho nodded, his jaw clenched tight as they made their way outside to Hongjoong’s car. Felix opened the passenger side door, and Yunho sank into the seat with a groan.
“Thank you for your help,” Hongjoong said to Felix and Hyunjin, closing the door and walking around to the driver’s side.
“Of course. I hope he feels better soon,” said Felix, and Hyunjin nodded emphatically.
Hongjoong gave them a smile that was more of a grimace and waved goodbye as they turned back towards the dance gym. He slid into his seat, buckling Yunho’s seat belt first, then his own. The car grumbled as he turned the key and downright screeched at his first couple attempts to put it in reverse, but it conceded after some aggressive manhandling of the gear shift. It was ancient and not particularly reliable, but it had been Hongjoong’s father’s, and he was loath to get rid of it. As he accelerated down the road leading away from campus, Yunho swore under his breath.
“Is it getting bad again?”
“Yeah,” Yunho said, his voice strained.
“Hang in there,” Hongjoong murmured, taking his hand off the gear shift for a moment to squeeze his knee.
Yunho took a sharp breath, curling forward, and Hongjoong reached a hand out before his head could thunk against the dash.
“I know it’s bad, Yunho-yah, but you’ve gotta sit up. Just a couple more minutes.”
Yunho twisted in his seat, grabbing Hongjoong’s arm with an iron grip. Hongjoong caught a glimpse of fresh tears on his cheeks and pulled over, stopping the car.
“What do you need, aegi? Do you want to go to the hospital to see what they can do?”
Yunho shook his head, leaning over the center console to rest against Hongjoong.
“Should we wait until this wave passes before we keep going?”
Yunho shook his head again. “Just wanna go home.”
“Okay,” Hongjoong said soothingly. “I need my arm to drive, though.”
Yunho took a couple of stuttering breaths before letting go, sitting up again with his hands pressed to his stomach. Hongjoong checked his rearview before pulling back onto the road, doubling the speed limit until they were turning into their apartment’s lot. By some miracle, a closer spot was open; Hongjoong took it, slinging Yunho’s bag over his shoulder and hurrying around to help Yunho to his feet. His legs protested under the added weight of Yunho and his duffle along with fatigue from work, but he resolutely ignored it, as well as the exhaustion headache building up behind his eyes. No time for that now. He fumbled to open the door, dropping the duffle and foregoing their shoes in favor of helping Yunho stumble to the couch. Deja vu lit up in the back of his mind as Yunho curled into him; they settled in a similar position to the one he and Mingi had been in earlier. He heard the front door open and close, and chatter filled the heavy air.
“Could one of you grab the Tylenol?” he called, the voices fell silent.
“Is everything okay?” Jongho asked, entering Hongjoong’s field of vision. “Oh no, Yunho-hyung…”
There was the rattle of a bottle, and San appeared, pressing a pill into Hongjoong’s waiting hand.
“Thank you, Sannie. Could you grab his water bottle from his bag? It’s by the door.”
San nodded, disappearing again, then returning with the water. Yunho swallowed the pill quickly as Hongjoong rubbed his back.
“Yunho, aegi, if it doesn’t get better within the next hour or two, I think we should go to the hospital,” Hongjoong said softly.
Yunho shook his head. “Please, no. It’s already a bit better.”
Hongjoong sighed. “Okay. But if it doesn’t keep getting better, I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Yunho didn’t reply to that, which wasn’t an agreement, but also wasn’t a refusal.
“I hate this,” he mumbled.
“I know, I’m so sorry.”
He sniffled a little. “They said it would get better with time, the IUD, but it isn’t.”
“Do you want to remove it?”
He nodded. “They said I can do it myself.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.”
“It seems like nothing ever does.”
Hongjoong’s heart wrenched, and he pulled Yunho closer.
“I just want it to stop,” Yunho whispered.
“I wish I could make it stop, Yunho-yah. I’m sorry.”
Yunho’s shoulders trembled slightly.
“Do you want to go lay in bed?” Hongjoong asked.
Yunho shook his head. “Don’t wanna do the stairs.”
“You can use my bed!” Wooyoung offered. “We can cuddle if you want!”
“That’s a good idea,” Hongjoong said. “Want to cuddle with Wooyoungie?”
Yunho nodded slowly. “That sounds nice.”
“Okay, let’s get you to Wooyoungie’s bed,” Hongjoong said. “How are you feeling about walking?”
“I think I can do it.”
“Here, hyung, hold my arm and I’ll help you up,” Jongho said.
Yunho grabbed on and stood up slowly, leaning on Jongho and Hongjoong as they made their way to San and Wooyoung’s room. Wooyoung pulled back the blankets and fluffed up the pillows, pressing a kiss to Yunho’s cheek as he settled onto the mattress with a sharp exhale. He wrinkled his nose, but there was warmth in his eyes, and Wooyoung giggled.
“Is the ibuprofen starting to kick in?” Hongjoong asked.
“I think so,” said Yunho. “It’s not quite as bad now.”
“Good,” Hongjoong said.
“Yunho-yah,” said San. “Would heat help?”
Yunho lifted his head to find San holding a heat pack and a hot water bottle.
“Probably. Thank you, Sannie.”
“Of course,” San said. He stepped closer to hand the items to Yunho, who pressed them to his stomach and sighed.
“Cuddle time!” Wooyoung said. “Sannie, want to join?”
“Only if Yunho doesn’t mind,” San said slowly, his eyes downcast. “There’s not a lot of room.”
“There’s always room for you, Sannie,” said Yunho. “How about you lay on top of me to weigh down my heat packs?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me. The pressure might help, actually.”
San looked skeptical, but obediently climbed on top of Yunho, watching his face for any sign of added pain as he settled in slowly and carefully.
“Ok?”
“Perfect.”
“This is the dream,” Wooyoung said happily. “I love group cuddles.”
Jongho made a sound of disgust; Yunho laughed a little, then winced.
“Ow.”
“Do you want me to move?” San asked.
“No, I did that to myself. You’re fine.” Yunho looked over to Hongjoong and Jongho. “Thank you for helping me. And thank you for coming to pick me up, hyung.”
“Of course, any time,” Hongjoong said. “Try to get some sleep. Let me know if you need anything, ok?”
Yunho nodded, and Hongjoong and Jongho headed for the door, turning off the lights on the way out.
“Poor hyung,” Jongho said. “It’s not usually that bad.”
“I know,” Hongjoong sighed. He yawned widely, pulling out his phone to check the time. “Oh wow, it’s getting late. I have work in the morning.”
“You should go to bed,” Jongho said.
Hongjoong nodded. “Did you have fun getting milkshakes with Wooyoung and San?”
“Yeah,” Jongho replied, though there was a bit of hesitation in his voice.
Hongjoong stayed quiet, letting him decide if he wanted to continue.
“It’s just…” Jongho started eventually. “It’s fine that I had a milkshake, right?”
“Yes, it’s totally fine. Sometimes, people have milkshakes. No need to justify it. They’re delicious, and you’re allowed to have one when you want one.”
“Okay,” Jongho said. “Okay. Thanks, hyung.”
“Any time. I’m going to bed, but you can wake me up if you need me, okay?”
Jongho nodded. “Goodnight, Hongjoong-hyung.”