Chapter Text
Being an idol is tiring. There’s never a day off. There’s rarely time to one’s self. Seonghwa loves being an idol, but he must admit he’s tired. He knows the other members are tired, too.
Some of the members channel that exhaustion into their work. Hongjoong and San often drive their bones and neurons until they’re close to collapsing from overwork, but it’s usually worth it for the outcome. They put everything on the line for their medium. It’s worth the sacrifice for them.
Jongho and Yunho put up more barriers than Seonghwa and the other members. It’s almost like they're unconsciously creating a psychic wall to keep out the unending racket that plagues them all. They love their fans. They love their jobs. They don’t love the drain that all of it puts on them, so they keep that barrier up, which serves them well.
Seonghwa can only be envious of Jongho and Yunho. He wishes he could be the type of person who puts up walls, but it’s impossible. He’s tried it before. He really wants to have some time to himself, but he’s also learned that he needs that connection. Seonghwa thrives on touch, on softly spoken words, on reassurances that he’s done well.
He has needs, some of which are seen as too many. It’s honestly embarrassing to need so much.
For a while, Yeosang helped him with his needs. The original ATEEZ Seonghwa pairing…SeongSang. They really did try, and Yeosang still floated back to him sometimes. It filled him with so much pride to see Yeosang break off on his own and become who he wants to be, but Seonghwa misses the closeness. The hugs. The warmth of Yeosang.
Wooyoung helps everyone. He’s tactile by nature. It’s not an act for the cameras. He’s the first person to flop over on top of one of the members on the couch when they’re just trying to relax and watch a movie. Seonghwa thinks Wooyoung is the one who understands him the most. They both have needs.
It would be ideal if their needs matched, but they’re too similar. They have the same needs . It just doesn’t compute.
Song Mingi was an outlier for Seonghwa for a long time. He has always admired Mingi for his dedication, talent, and perseverance. He was always there to offer Mingi an ear when he needed to talk, and he never grew tired of Mingi’s exciting theories and ideas that were sometimes seen as outlandish by the other guys.
Despite this, Seonghwa never truly realized how much his relationship with Mingi meant to him until Mingi went on hiatus.
It was then that Seonghwa felt the fissure. It spread across his mind as swiftly as it parted his heart. Those talks with Mingi had felt inconsequential at the time, but with his bandmate gone and healing, Seonghwa had a stark realization:
Mingi had been fulfilling Seonghwa’s needs like no one else had managed in a long time.
Letting Seonghwa rub a hand on his stomach when he wasn’t feeling well. Asking for Seonghwa’s opinion when no one else would listen. Coming to Seonghwa when he needed anything at all, really.
Seonghwa isn’t particularly deep. His needs are simple, really. He needs to be needed.
And with Mingi gone, he felt utterly adrift, untethered, with no one to need him.
It’s been years since then, but Seonghwa still wakes up in a cold sweat with the chilled phantom fingers of Mingi’s absence stroking the back of his neck.
Those feelings are quickly replaced by the warm weight pressing against his chest, the long legs tangled with his own. His heartbeat slows, and his eyes water. Mingi is here with him, just like he always is, and the gratitude that pours into him like a rush of adrenaline is incomparable.
When Mingi came back to them, things moved slowly. It felt like they were all stuck in amber, unsure how to move or press forward, with Mingi’s fragile state at the forefront of every conversation. Seonghwa couldn’t even imagine what Mingi was feeling. His sadness at Mingi’s absence was nothing compared to the overwhelming emotion that Mingi must have felt during his time away.
They all have their battles, but Seonghwa felt like Mingi’s battle was the biggest. A battle with one’s mind is often the hardest to circumvent.
He unknowingly drifted to Mingi’s side more and more as he reintegrated with their routines. When Mingi seemed too shaky, Seonghwa offered him an arm to hold him up. If Mingi needed to speak, Seonghwa listened.
Although Mingi often apologizes for this time, it’s only because he doesn’t realize that Seonghwa, selfishly, was feeling every bit fulfilled at the end of the day by helping Mingi fill in the gaps. He felt proud to offer himself in any way to calm Mingi’s mind and body. It gave him purpose. It helped him grow as a person.
Their time together was interrupted by tours and separate lives, but those interruptions became less frequent when they moved into the same dorm with San as their third roommate.
Seonghwa had to admit that he was shocked the first time he woke up with Mingi in his bed. It didn’t surprise him when San came into his room to bother him and fell asleep all wrapped up in his blankets. San was practically a cat in that regard.
But Mingi…
He had always been a bit more private. He opened up to Seonghwa quite frequently over time, but it was never as blatant as some of the other members of ATEEZ. Mingi spoke slowly and softly. He asked permission. He never rushed ahead too quickly.
Plenty of thoughts rushed through Seonghwa’s head the first time he woke up with Mingi’s head on his chest and two long arms wrapped around his middle.
Is Mingi okay?
Did something happen?
Will this impact our relationship?
What kind of shampoo does he use?
This feels kinda nice.
It felt more than kinda nice, but but Seonghwa wasn't ready to admit that to himself yet. His heart pounded in his chest the more he tried to rest. His fingers eventually skirted along Mingi’s back to rub at the bare skin there. That was a lot of skin. Was it weird that Mingi was in his bed in just a pair of boxers? Was Seonghwa a pervert for even thinking that way?
He still isn’t always sure what he feels for Mingi. He loves him dearly. He’s not sure how he’ll manage if Mingi ever decides to change their routine. Everything about their arrangement grants Seonghwa a kind of fulfillment that he can’t find anywhere else, with anyone else.
They didn’t discuss it the day after the first time, but it kept happening–not just at night in bed, but in broad daylight on the couch, too. Mingi would wordlessly lay with his head in Seonghwa’s lap, grab his free hand, put it in his hair, and fall asleep while Seonghwa scrolled on his phone.
There is something special about touch. Not sexual touch, not familial touch, but the other kind of touch—the kind where you love and trust someone enough to let you touch them and be touched in return—hugs, cuddles, and reassuring hands on soft skin.
At one point, Seonghwa may have been naive enough to think that Mingi was the only one getting anything out of their interactions. That’s definitely not the case now. He yearns for it. He pines in a way he cannot understand or put into words.
All he knows is that Mingi needs him, and nothing has ever felt as good as the way that feels.