Chapter Text
If Jongho were different person, he probably would have startled when the studio door abruptly swung open in the middle of his song.
He isn't though, so he doesn't, but he does falter when Wooyoung strides right in, face set determinedly and eyes narrowed.
He automatically lowers his microphone, puzzled. "Hyung –"
"Jongho-ya," Wooyoung says, cutting Jongho off. Behind him, Mingi peeks into the room, eyes wide. "Do you know what time it is?"
Jongho doesn't, actually. He tries not to check – one of the habits he's picked up from his trainee years – if you're constantly thinking about how much time you're spending while practicing, then you're not thinking about the actual practice. It takes a lot of focus for Jongho to sing the way that he does, so he can't even afford to keep his phone on him in here.
Also, after a while, it hurt too much to think about everything he was missing out on while he worked and worked and worked. After a while, he couldn't think about the days and weeks and years he was throwing away for a dream that might not happen. That, as time stretched further on, seemed more and more likely to not happen.
But he decided to keep that to himself.
"No," Jongho says. He shifts, reaching out to turn the music down. "What time is it?" Then: "Are you okay?"
"No, I'm upset." Wooyoung stops all in Jongho's personal space. He's just an inch or two away from their foreheads smacking together.
"Okay?" Jongho goes when he says nothing more. He has no idea how he's meant to nagivate this situation. Not without them telling him exactly what the hell is going on.. "Uh –"
"And Mingi too!" Mingi, still lingering in the doorway, jumps at the sound of his name. It doesn't seem like he really knows why he's here - it's getting increasingly more likely that Wooyoung dragged him all this way without explaining - but still, when Wooyoung turns to look at him, Mingi starts nodding.
"Yeah," he goes. "I'm – uh – I'm also upset?"
Wooyoung must flash him an approving grin, because Mingi eases like he's relieved. Jongho opens his mouth, but Wooyoung turns back and then reaches out to grab Jongho by the shoulders.
"You cannot keep doing this, dongsaeng." He says.
Jongho's mouth clicks shut. His cheeks flush. Fuck. Since San’s started being all sweet to him - only in the dorms for now, nowhere else, because for as much as Jongho was sure he was ready...it's still a lot to show off all at once to thousands when previously you didn't have it even just for yourself – the rest of his hyungs have been following suit. They’re more tentative about it than San; a soft sweetheart from under Seonghwa's breath when Jongho does something cute, or a casual Jjongie thrown in from Yunho when Jongho least expects it. But Wooyoung in particular takes great pleasure in randomly surprising Jongho with it whenever he feels the need, and without fail, it always renders him just a tiny bit speechless.
"I haven't seen you all day." Wooyoung continues, pouting now. "All day."
"I've– I've been practicing." Jongho stutters. He tries to get his feet back under him. "Hyung, you were practicing earlier. Why are you –"
"Yeah. Earlier. In the morning. It’s nearly five now.” Jongho blinks, and Wooyoung’s expression softens. “Have you eaten today?”
Jongho has to think about it, which is already not a good sign. Mingi comes closer, expression disapproving. Jongho feels yoing again. He wants to shrink down away from them. "Jongho-ya,” he starts.
It’s enough to be faced with Wooyoung’s attention, Jongho does not want Mingi’s too. He'd crumble like a sand castle.
“I just forgot,” he says quickly. “But I hear you, I’ll take a break.”
Suddenly, Wooyoung cackles. Jongho blinks. He looks at Mingi helplessly, but Mingi merely looks grim. “What? Hyung, why are you laughing?”
“Take a break?” Wooyoung repeats once he’s breathing normally again. “Jongho, there is no way I’m letting you come back in here tonight. You and Hongjoong-hyung are too similar for your own good. No, I’m not leaving without you.”
Jongho sighs, rolling his eyes. “I just wanted to practice –”
“You hardly need it,” he argues.
“Don’t say that,” Jongho snaps. He can’t help but be touchy about this. Too many people think that his talent is one that he was born with, that he doesn’t have to work and work to keep. But it isn't. If he wants to shoulder all the burdens that come with being the main vocal, then he has to work, and he has to work hard. Back in middle school, people weren’t afraid to tell him exactly what they thought of his voice and singing. They would flay him open with their words, and since this was before Jongho learned to keep a safe distance from people, he took it all directly to the chest. It permeated his every move: how he talked, how he moved, how hard he worked. It made him who he is today, and while he would never ever change it, he certainly will not let it happen again.
He's the main vocal of Ateez. If he fails, then Ateez fails, and he cannot let Ateez take the criticism that should fall solely on him. He just won't.
Wooyoung quiets, stunned. Jongho, despite his reasons, feels awful.
“Sorry, hyung,” he goes. “I just – this is important. For us, you know? I – I care about this.” I care about us, he doesn’t say.
“I know,” Wooyoung says softly. “I get it. But I haven’t seen you all day.” I care about you, Jongho can’t help but hear.
Jongho frowns. “I’m right here.”
“I know, baby. But come home.” Wooyoung pleas. “Rest. Eat. Sing for us there. Let us care for you while you work. I mean, you know we always love to hear you."
Jongho sighs, eyes cutting over to Mingi, who is smiling that smile that makes Jongho do whatever he wants. Come on maknae, it says, give in. Let us love you. Jongho looks up at the ceiling, done. “Alright,” he gives in. “Okay, I’ll come home.”
“Good,” Wooyoung slips closer, hooking his arm with Jongho’s. “And I’ll feed you. Seafood? Or Mandu? I think we have pork at home."
Suddenly, as if listening, Jongho’s stomach growls. Mingi laughs. Jongho slaps his arm to shut him up. “I’m hungry! I haven’t eaten all day!” He feels sheepish and young when he turns back to Wooyoung and goes, "Mandu maybe?"
Wooyoung hums, reaching over and patting Jongho’s stomach. “Okay, Jjongie,” he teases, “I’ll feed you. I promise.”