Work Text:
Seungkwan got asked out on a date. By someone who’s not Hansol. In England.
It’s his boyfriend himself who tells him this, eyes wide as he waits for a reaction, in the way he does, open and gaze piercing right through Hansol’s skin, looking into his bare soul. Sometimes — in moments like these — it’s as if Seungkwan knows more about his feelings and thoughts than he himself does, as if Hansol is just walking around with idiot written on his forehead, unaware and at the world’s mercy.
They’d gone out together, Seungkwan and Minghao and Jihoon, to some pub they had heard about backstage at the festival, one of the local technicians raving about the beer. He’d been invited too, Seungkwan smiling at him with bright earnest eyes as he rubbed the back of Hansol’s ear, leaning over him in the lobby of their hotel, but he had just grunted and slightly shook his head. Seungkwan had lingered for a second but left after patting his hair lightly, taking with him the warmth he had been feeling. Hansol stood up and went to take a long, long shower.
—
So here’s the thing: Hansol gets a certain way sometimes, retreats in his own head and sits by himself until the only thing he hears is his blood rushing and the pounding of his heart, and his stomach feels like a big black hole, eating at him from the inside. One day it might swallow him whole, and Hansol will no longer exist.
Before that ever happens, though, Seungkwan is there to pull him out, all soft hands and soft voice and even softer eyes, reaching for him until Hansol’s coaxed back into the real world and can feel his own toes again. His boyfriend has a tight grip around his waist and hums songs of which he has forgotten the lyrics, and Hansol is home.
His therapist says it’s anxiety of some sort, caused by a combination of stress and genetics and the hectic lifestyle they live. She recommends some techniques for him to ground himself ( 5 things you see, 4 you can touch, Vernon-shi ) and tells him they can discuss medication if it doesn’t get better. Hansol nods and promises her he will try them out. During his next episode, he sits and waits for Seungkwan to drag him back out.
It makes sense, in a way, though he does not tell his therapist. Seungkwan had been grounding him since they met as teens, shielding him from bad critiques and mean staff during their trainee days, passing him water bottles and holding him close. Hansol was 15 and scrawny, a middle-school dropout wondering if he’d made the right choice, and Seungkwan was there to hold his hand and wipe his tears and assure him that yes, this is exactly where you are meant to be, Sollie-ah. And Hansol believed him.
(How could he not?)
And even now that he’s all grown up, grew into his features and his voice and confidence, Seungkwan still uses the same laundry detergent and has the same laugh, and sometimes when he closes his eyes he’s back in the green room again and can almost feel Seungkwan’s hand in his.
Even with how much he loves being an idol, it’s often after concerts or performances that he gets this way, all the stress and anxiety he suppressed before and on the stage looming over his shoulder before engulfing him completely. To the sound of their fans’ screams and surrounded by his members buzzing from adrenaline, Hansol feels like he’s freezing, a prey animal in search of a safe corner where it can cower and let the ground swallow it whole.
And well, as selfish as he is, he knows he can’t expect his boyfriend to always be there, jumping at his every whim. Seungkwan, who’d basically skipped off the stage with a grin rivalling the sun and started making plans with anyone who was willing to listen, who had reached out for a second to brush the back of Hansol’s neck before running off to Mingyu for some weird post-performance dance battle. And Hansol looks, and he remains silent, because he can’t ask this of him, not now. He wants to let Seungkwan have his moment too, for once.
The anxiety crawls up his throat, and he greets it like an old acquaintance.
—
Anyways, Seungkwan apparently got asked out on a date by some English guy with red hair who said he liked his singing. He was wearing a blue sweater and had an eyebrow piercing. Those are all the details the boy is willing to provide him with, eyes slightly hazy from the alcohol and still standing at the very beginning of Hansol’s hotel room, which he had entered about a minute prior.
Hansol’s room, which up until that moment had been dark and silent, with only himself sitting in the middle of his bed, trying to think of 4 things he can feel (the blanket, the air coming out of the AC, his fingers maybe?) and not fall into the crater forming inside his tummy. He probably looks a mess, he thinks, hair still wet and curled up on top of the duvet, staring blankly at the wall in an attempt not to cry.
“Hansol?” Seungkwan’s voice turns worried all of a sudden. “Hey, Nonie, are you okay?” That nickname only came out when it was the two of them, a relic of their trainee days. Hansol’s heart aches.
His toes are starting to feel numb, and it’s weird. He feels detached as he looks down at them, tries to wiggle them. His fingers are the same, and he clasps them together tightly. When he looks back up he sees Seungkwan walking towards him as if he’s in a fishing bowl, sight distorted as his mind zeroes in on nothing but the other boy’s face coming closer. He looks worried, brow furrowed as he sits down next to him on the bed.
His boyfriend reaches out for his hand, tangling their fingers together, and Hansol almost feels the blood re-entering them. His other hand finds its place at the nape on Hansol’s neck, cool against the sweat gathered there, reminiscent of when he had done the same only a few hours ago, backstage at Glastonbury.
“Baby, oh my love. You should’ve called me.” A kiss is pressed against his forehead, and then another one under his eye. Hansol shrugs hopelessly, tongue dry and heavy in his mouth. “I- I just” he gestures with his free hand, to nothing, to everything.
Seungkwan shushes him. “It’s okay, Nonie. I thought you weren’t really being yourself. But you- you didn’t say anything so I wasn’t sure. I’m sorry, I should’ve stayed with you.” He tries to protest, because no, Seungkwan should be allowed to enjoy his time in England, after the festival, without Hansol ruining that for him once again, as always , but his boyfriend doesn’t let him. He’s pulled into a full hug now, and Seungkwan tugs until they’re both laying down on the mattress, curls around him protectively.
Hansol tries again, grunts out the beginning of an excuse but Seungkwan hushes him again, voice just slightly wet as he pushes their foreheads together. “No, none of that. It’s not your fault, love. I wish I would’ve been here”.
They’re mostly quiet after that, with Seungkwan whispering the lyrics of some English songs to him, re-adjusting his grip every now and then to hold him tighter. Slowly, Hansol starts to regain the feeling in his toes, then his fingers. He’s tired to the bone, he notices, but his stomach feels better, and so does his throat. He can breathe.
As he lets out a deep sigh, relaxing more against his boyfriend, Seungkwan reaches out without looking up and starts massaging his ear, right where the little star is tattooed. The North star, his North star.
“Will you tell me next time, as soon as you feel it?” It’s terrifying, the idea that Hansol would allow himself to be selfish enough to do so, tug Seungkwan away from the celebrations just to be with his boyfriend who has a hard time doing his goddamn job, but he nods nonetheless. He could never deny Seungkwan anything, after all. He clears his throat, “Yeah. I will. And I’m sorry too”.
Seungkwan shakes his head at that last bit, but he looks fond as he reaches up to tug the duvet over them properly. “We can talk about it tomorrow, baby. Just get some sleep for now. I love you”. Another kiss, this time on his lips, short and sweet and solid. I’m here, it says.
Hansol just nods, closes his eyes, cuddles closer. Tomorrow. Right now, he has this, a Seungkwan who keeps away all the bad thoughts, squeezes him close until they’re forced out and drives them away with just his presence.
Hansol has Seungkwan, and it will always be this way.