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Hongjoong could tell that Seonghwa wasn’t doing very well currently.
If you asked him how he knew, he wouldn’t be able to explain it, would trip over his words and stumble over a half-hearted explanation, but there was something in the set of Seonghwa’s shoulders or maybe it was the look in his eyes that told Hongjoong that Seonghwa was not himself.
He thought that Seonghwa would be happy, glad to see him home, and he was, it was in his eyes; relief and satisfaction. But the rest of him was uneasy, shifty, and almost uncomfortable in a way, and Hongjoong wanted to make it better as soon as he could.
“What happened?” he asked, and Seonghwa swallowed roughly, sitting down gently on the sofa, smoothing out the pattern, and adjusting the pillow with soft hands.
“Wooyoungie kicked me out,” Seonghwa said, and Hongjoong furrowed his brow a little bit, trying desperately to follow Seonghwa’s train of thought.
“He kicked you out? Of the kitchen?” he asked. Seonghwa nodded, finally putting his hands in the lap.
“He said he wanted me to have a break,” he said. Hongjoong peered at him for a long moment, watching Seonghwa fiddle with his hands, chewing on his lip, obviously deep inside his head.
“Won’t a break be nice?” Hongjoong tried. It was the wrong thing to say, Seonghwa’s head snapped up, staring at Hongjoong as if he had just killed his dog.
“What- why?”
“Wooyoung is just trying to help. You've been a bit tense recently,” Hongjoong said, and Seonghwa looked back down, rubbing his hands on his jeans.
“Tense?” he said quietly, and Hongjoong nodded.
“Yeah. A little tense,” he said, and Seonghwa’s hands clenched on top of his legs for a long moment. “Let him do this for you, yeah?” Hongjoong said, and Seonghwa looked up, obviously a little upset.
“Yeah. I guess,” he said and stared at him for a long moment.
“Do you want to hold my hand?” he offered.
“You haven’t showered yet,” Seonghwa said, and Hongjoong hummed.
“How about I wash my hands and come back?” he asked, and Seonghwa squinted at him.
“Just be thorough,” he said, and Hongjoong smiled.
“I always am.”
Hongjoong washed his hands quickly, but thoroughly like Seonghwa had asked, even going so far as to clean under his fingernails, meticulously.
When he returned, Seonghwa looked tenser than before, and Hongjoong offered up his hands, and Seonghwa took one gingerly, hesitantly.
His grip increased in strength rapidly, until Seonghwa was clutching onto Hongjoong so hard his arm was shaking.
“It’s going to be okay,” Hongjoong tried, and Seonghwa swallowed.
“Yeah,” he said, but there was panic evident in his tone and body language that Hongjoong couldn’t even attempt to unpack before Wooyoung popped out of the kitchen, beaming.
“Dinner’s ready! I tried a new recipe, so please tell me what you think,” Wooyoung said, practically radiating happiness.
Together they walked in, sitting side by side like they usually would.
Hongjoong watched as Seonghwa raised the food up, only to put it back down, clenching his hands, and then trying again, only for the same response.
“Hyung? Is it not good?” Wooyoung asked, and Seonghwa shook his head.
“No… no… you’re a good cook Wooyoungie, I’m sorry. I’m uh… I’m not very hungry,” he said, before standing abruptly and walking off toward his room.
There was a long moment of silence at the table, Wooyoung quiet and confused, everyone glancing at each other, at Wooyoung, and at the doorway, Seonghwa just walked through. Hongjoong put his chopsticks down.
“I’ll go check on him,” he said, and the rest of the table nodded, still quiet, the mood having drifted into something somber.
Hongjoong stepped up to their door, tapping lightly on the door.
“Seonghwa?” he called, only for there to be no response. “Hwa?” he tried again. Silence permeated the air. “I’m going to come in,” he said and grabbed the doorknob. It jiggled twice in his hand before he realized that it was locked.
Panic slipped into his bones, soaking his lungs, and making it hard to breathe.
“Seonghwa?” he said again.
“I’m fine,” Seonghwa called, and Hongjoong jiggled the door knob again.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“I-” Seonghwa’s voice caught in his throat unexpectedly.
“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong prompted.
“I can’t… I can’t do this,” he said, voice unexpectedly softer.
“Seonghwa. Open the door,” Hongjoong said, and he could hear the urgency in his voice, as well as the sound of their bandmates standing up from the table, drawn to the commotion.
“Joong,” Seonghwa said. “I can’t- I can’t breathe,” he said, and Hongjoong leaned on the door harder, as though it would help.
“Seonghwa-” he tried before pulling away slightly. “Someone grab the key to our room!” he yelled into the kitchen, and immediately feet were moving, multiple people racing across the house to where they kept all the keys.
“Here, here, here,” Yeosang said quickly, racing to give Hongjoong the key, his hands shaking. Hongjoong took it quickly, distantly aware that the rest of the band was gathering around the door as he slipped the key into the lock, turning it and opening the door in one smooth motion.
“Stay-” Hongjoong started.
“We’ll stay out here, you take care of him and let us know if we can help,” Yunho said, and Hongjoong looked at his boys, gave them a nod, and then slid into the room, closing the door behind himself.
“Seonghwa?” he said quietly, and the taller looked at him, eyes wide, breaths coming too fast and short, huddled in the corner, red marks along his skin from where he scratched at his arms too hard. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.”
“Joong-” he said, words stopping as he took in another sharp, breath. “Joong please- help.”
“You gotta breathe Hwa,” Hongjoong said, sitting as close to him as he dared.
“I can’t-”
“You can follow my breathing. Inhale for 4, hold for 4, exhale for four,” he tried, but Seonghwa just shook his head.
“I can’t-”
“Can I hold your hand?” Hongjoong asked, and Seonghwa’s panicked eyes looked at him, wide and full of fear.
“Is it-” he started, something like a sob leaving his chest, a sound that was so heartbreaking it took Hongjoong aback. “Is it still clean?” and more of the pieces began slotting together for him.
“Yes,” he promised. “Yes, my hands are clean. Squeaky clean, just like you taught me,” he said, and Seonghwa slowly extended a hand, seemingly already beginning to calm down slightly.
Hongjoong began the breathing pattern, trying to get Seonghwa to follow along, and after an excruciatingly long minute, Seonghwa seemed to catch on, breath stuttering as he tried to follow, but steadily evening out until Seonghwa leaned forward, falling onto Hongjoong. It felt like forever, although it couldn't have been more than ten minutes.
“I’m tired,” Seonghwa said quietly, his head slumping onto Hongjoong’s shoulder.
“I know,” Hongjoong said, running a hand up and down his arm.
“I want to sleep.”
“Do you want help getting to the bed?” he asked, and Seonghwa nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, breath ghosting across Hongjoong’s neck, and he slowly began to move, bringing Seonghwa into a more upright position, before getting the two of them into a position that would help them rise to their feet, guiding Seonghwa to his bed on exhausted legs. “Thank you, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize for this,” Hongjoong said, lifting the covers up to his roommate's chin.
“I do.”
“You don’t,” Hongjoong reaffirmed, and Seonghwa opened his mouth to argue again, ever stubborn, but Hongjoong shushed him lightly. “Get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” he said, and Hongjoong watched as Seonghwa’s eyes drifted close, waiting for a moment to make sure Seonghwa didn’t snap awake and start panicking all over again, before leaving their room, closing the door behind himself and letting out a sigh of relief and exhaustion.
“He’s okay?” came a voice, and Hongjoong turned to see Wooyoung standing in the hall, illuminated by a light that was still on in the kitchen.
“He’s okay, what are you doing up?” he asked and Wooyoung shrugged awkwardly.
“None of us wanted to go to sleep when he… when Hyung…” he said, and Hongjoong hummed.
“Yeah, I get that. He’s okay. Exhausted. I’m going to talk to him tomorrow.”
“It’s already tomorrow,” came a new voice, and Yunho poked his head around the corner, and Hongjoong’s shoulders slumped slightly.
“We’ve got early morning schedules. I’m going to try and get us all out of them, and if I can’t do that then I will get Seonghwa out of them, he needs all the rest he can get,” Hongjoong said, and Yunho nodded.
“I’ll get the others to bed,” he offered, and Hongjoong smiled gratefully.
“Goodnight,” he said, and a chorus of ‘goodnight Hyung’'s came from the kitchen.
Hongjoong showered quickly before heading back to his room, changing into his pyjamas quickly and lying down, determined to sleep as soon as he could, only for his thoughts to drift to Seonghwa.
There was worry that he could pinpoint, the feeling of Seonghwa getting worse and worse, and concern echoing after that, trying to think if there was something he could do to help that wasn’t the bare minimum.
Seonghwa shuffled around in his sleep a little bit nearby, and Hongjoong breathed out a heavy sigh, flipping onto his side, pointedly focusing on the sounds of Seonghwa’s breathing, letting it lull him to sleep.
The next morning, when Hongjoong woke up, it was to his phone buzzing with a text from their manager, agreeing to the morning off for all of them, much to Hongjoong’s surprise. He rose leisurely from his bed, turning off his bandmate's alarms (noting that Seonghwa and Wooyoung were both already awake) before heading into the kitchen and pouring himself a cup of coffee, watching Wooyoung stand in front of the fridge, seemingly pondering what to eat.
“Hyung?” Wooyoung said, and Hongjoong hummed absentmindedly. “What happened to all the food in the fridge?” he asked quietly, and Hongjoong looked up from his coffee.
“What?” he asked, and Wooyoung slid to the side a little to reveal the very empty, yet practically sparkling fridge.
“It’s empty. Everything is gone.”
“I see that,” Hongjoong said, swirling his cup, confused.
“I emptied it, I’m sorry,'' a voice from behind them, and Hongjoong turned.
Seonghwa was standing in the doorway looking much smaller than normal, wearing what looked like one of Mingi’s sweatshirts, smelling clean, and his hair wet from a shower.
“You emptied it? Why?” Hongjoong asked, and Seonghwa’s eyebrow quirked a little as he quickly moved to stare at his feet, practically radiating guilt.
“I… well,” he said, looking away, and Hongjoong cast a glance at Wooyoung, who looked just as concerned as Hongjoong felt.
“Hyung?” Wooyoung said, and Seonghwa’s head snapped towards him.
“I was cleaning it out,” he said quietly, and Hongjoong nodded.
“You’ve done that before,” Hongjoong said, lowering his voice a little, trying to be as gentle as he could be while still figuring out what happened. “What happened this time?”
“I-” Seonghwa swallowed roughly, fiddling with his hands, hands that were bright red, refusing (or unable) to look Hongjoong in the eyes.
“Hwa?”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“I know you didn’t, I still want to know what happened so we know what to do next time,” Hongjoong said, and Seonghwa slowly nodded.
“The ah… the milk had spoiled,” he said.
“So you threw it out?
“Yes… but it spilled on the shelf and everything was contaminated,” Seonghwa explained, and Hongjoong nodded.
“Even the things on the shelf above it?” he asked, and Seonghwa swallowed roughly before nodding a little.
“I couldn’t just leave the things in there,” he said, and Hongjoong took a deep breath.
“Do you want to go out and get more food?” he asked, and Seonghwa quickly shook his head.
“No. No, I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave.”
“Okay. We don’t have to. Wooyoung-”
“Don’t send Wooyoung,” Seonghwa said, aghast, eyes wide.
“Why shouldn’t I send Wooyoungie?” Hongjoong asked, and Seonghwa just shook his head, obviously trying to form words but unable to for a long moment.
“There are so many germs outside. He’s going to get sick.”
“He’ll wear his mask and wash up when he gets back,” Hongjoong offered, and Seonghwa’s eyes twitched as he stared at Hongjoong in disbelief like he didn’t understand why he would even suggest Wooyoung go out. Hongjoong glanced at Wooyoung, who seemed just as confused and concerned as he was.
“Hyung, I’ll be fine,” Wooyoung tried, but that was the nail in the coffin.
“No. No, Wooyoung can’t go out,” Seonghwa said quickly, glancing from Wooyoung to Hongjoong. “I won’t let him.”
“Seonghwa, we need food,” Hongjoong said.
“Well don’t send Wooyoung,” Seonghwa said simply like it was the most obvious solution, and Hongjoong sighed a little.
“If we can’t send Wooyoung, you and I are going,” Hongjoong said, and Seonghwa was struck dumb for a moment, mouth gaping a little as his hands clenched a little, deep in thought. Hongjoong waited patiently, or as patiently as he was able to.
“Fine, we’ll go,” Seonghwa said, the opposite of what Hongjoong had expected him to say, although he shouldn’t be surprised by how far Seonghwa’s protective streak for their team ran.
“Okay, let’s go,” Hongjoong said, stalking to the door to get ready to go out, Seonghwa following behind him, a little hesitantly, steps slower, panic in his eyes as he pulled on his shoes, grabbing a mask from his room and pulled a coat on.
“Ready?” Hongjoong asked, stepping outside, and Seonghwa nodded but hesitated at the doorway. “You can still back out,” he suggested, but Seonghwa shook his head, adjusting his mask and stepping out, letting out a breath as soon as he did.
“Ready.”
“That wasn’t so bad,” Hongjoong said, grabbing Seonghwa’s hand and pulling him out of their building.
“You have no idea,” Seonghwa said quietly, and Hongjoong hummed.
“No. I don’t,” he said, and Seonghwa got that pained look in his eyes. “You don’t tell us what it’s like and then we can’t help you,” he said softly, and Seonghwa looked away, down at his feet.
“I… I don’t even know,” he said.
“That’s okay. Tell me when you do?” he offered, and Seonghwa nodded, his grip on Hongjoong’s hand tightening just a little bit.
He let silence echo around as they headed to the nearest convenience store, only the sounds of their footsteps on the pavement interrupting it. Seonghwa’s grip was nearing vice levels on his hand.
“Do you want to talk about last night?” Hongjoong offered and watched as Seonghwa’s jaw tightened just slightly.
“Not really. But I probably should,” he said, and Hongjoong stayed quiet, waiting for the older to speak. “It was… it was a bad day,” he started.
“I gathered that much from the panic attack,” Hongjoong said, and Seonghwa nodded.
“And… and it was the food,” Seonghwa said.
“The food?”
“I… I don’t know. It was… I didn’t make it.”
“Wooyoung wanted to give you a break, you’ve been making everything recently.”
“Yeah. But I didn’t know what went into it,” he said, and Hongjoong hummed.
“You’ve got the best taste buds out of us, you could’ve guessed?” he offered, and Seonghwa shook his head.
“Not… not flavor-wise. I didn’t make the food. So I don’t know what ingredients Wooyoung used. So I don’t know if there were still good, or if they were prepared properly,” he said, and Hongjoong nodded slowly.
“You know that he would never do anything to cause anyone harm.”
“I know,” Seonghwa said firmly. “I know that Wooyoung can cook and that he knows how everything should be made but… it doesn’t stop my brain.”
“Have you considered therapy?” Hongjoong asked, and Seonghwa’s lips settled into a line.
“I have… considered it. I don’t know if the company-”
“You are more important than the company.”
“But if fans see-”
“We’ll deal with that if it happens.”
“But-”
“Are you trying to convince me? Or convince yourself? Because if you think it will help, then I will do whatever negotiating I need to do with the company to make sure you have the time to go,” Hongjoong said, watching Seonghwa’s eyes widen just a little bit.
“I-” he started, but then was silent again.
“You don’t have to decide today. It’s just something to think about,” Hongjoong said, squeezing Seonghwa’s hand lightly. “Now, let’s buy some food,” he said, and the two went inside the store together.
When they got home, Seonghwa was still oddly quiet, Wooyoung was concerned, very obviously, and Jongho (apparently the only other one who had woken up) looked mostly confused. Seonghwa gently squeezed Hongjoong’s hand, and he took that as a sign that Seonghwa wanted to talk to him.
“Do you want to start on breakfast?” Hongjoong asked, and Wooyoung nodded, sorting through the bags they had brought home, and Hongjoong guided Seonghwa into their shared room. “What’s up?”
“I… I want therapy. I think,” Seonghwa said quietly.
“You don’t have to commit to it, just try it out a little, and if you feel better then stick with it,” he said, and Seonghwa nodded.
“It’s just…” Seonghwa started. “It’s overwhelming sometimes,” he said, and Hongjoong hummed softly, squeezing his hand a little to try and reassure him, taking the turn of conversation in stride.
“Overwhelming?” he asked, and Seonghwa nodded.
“Yeah. Just… the compulsions and the desire for everything to be right and clean and safe… everything.”
“If there’s anything we can do to help you, let us know. We can’t cater to every whim but we can help if it’s reasonable,” he said, and Seonghwa shifted in his bed.
“This morning helped. A little,” he said, voice quiet like he didn’t really want to tell Hongjoong but was anyway. Hongjoong smiled.
“I’m glad.”
“And I think therapy might help too.”
“I’ll let the company know,” Hongjoong said, ready to go help Wooyoung with breakfast, when Seonghwa gripped his hand again, keeping him from going.
“Joong?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”