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The Itch

Summary:

Jongho just really needs a hug.

Notes:

uhm i wrote this six-ish years ago and i have no clue why i'm posting it now, but here you go! this was just me projecting my touch-starved self onto jongho, i apologize <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Jongho has an itch. Not, like, a physical itch—one he can get rid of with a simple scratch or two—but something deeper. Something nags at him from the second he wakes up to the moment his eyes fall shut as he lies down in bed, trying to fall asleep after a long and strenuous day even though his mind keeps swirling with thoughts about why he’s feeling this way. He doesn’t understand what’s nagging at him which, frankly, only serves to make it worse. When he tries to remember how this started, he’s able to pinpoint a moment. A small, fleeting moment in between their packed schedules, but he can’t get it out of his mind. It’s small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but to Jongho it seems to be much more than that.

Filming Fever Road isn’t very tiring luckily, but do they really have to film them sleeping? Jongho gets why, of course—he’s an idol, he’s had enough people tell him what to expect from this life—but he really wishes they could skip it this time. Jongho likes people, and he likes talking and cracking jokes, but he also appreciates his alone time, especially after a day filled with activities for their newest reality show. Activities that some members apparently still haven’t gotten enough of, in particular Wooyoung and San. His two hyungs are play wrestling on the couch, half falling onto the floor and immediately crawling back onto the couch to land a playful punch somewhere in revenge. They’ve basically become one entity, with the way they can’t seem to separate from each other. Seonghwa walks in and scoffs at the two, but his eyes are soft and Jongho can see a smile threatening to break through, the corners of his mouth pulling up.

Jongho sees, because he likes observing his members. He likes knowing their social cues, their facial expressions, their gestures. At least, most of the time, when they’re not clinging to each other like gum stuck to the underside of a desk. Jongho isn’t against physical affection, but he’s not as big on it as his hyungs are. Where his hyungs would pile onto each other after a long day, seeking warmth and touch, Jongho would rather take a shower and hop into bed, or spend the rest of his day holed up in the studio practicing his singing.

Perhaps he’s most similar to Hongjoong in that sense, both of them shying away from others’ touches and retreating to their own space. However, even the stubborn leader has a soft spot for their eldest and Jongho often finds both of them huddled close together on the couch, watching a movie at god knows what time. One time, when he woke up thirsty in the middle of the night, Seonghwa had seen him passing by, his big eyes stopping Jongho in his tracks. His hyung had put his index finger up to his lip in a ‘be silent’ signal before looking back at the small figure next to him. Jongho meant to walk away, but he saw Seonghwa’s face light up in the softest and most endearing smile he’d ever witnessed on his hyung and he couldn’t seem to look away. Seonghwa’s eyes twinkled in the harsh light from the tv, some Christmas movie playing on mute, and he moved to put his hand on Hongjoong’s head, but Jongho moved before he could see that happen. He didn’t fall back asleep that night.

Point is, Jongho doesn’t dislike skinship, he just… doesn’t need it the way his hyungs do. Or so he thinks as San’s whiny voice pulls him from his thoughts, the elder apparently having answered something wrong and Wooyoung making fun of him for it. San pouts at Wooyoung and leans back on the couch, giving the younger the silent treatment. Until Wooyoung relents and leans over, kissing San on the cheek and cuddling into his side. And that’s that. Except it isn’t, because Jongho can’t stop looking at the duo for some reason. Even as the playfighting starts up again, Jongho can’t tear his eyes away as he feels something fester in his chest. It itches and prickles and almost hurts, but then Wooyoung catches him staring and pulls a kissy face at him and Jongho feels his face screw up in mock disgust automatically and, well, that seems right. Surely he’s just had enough of seeing his members grab onto each other anytime they get the chance. Surely that’s all there is to it.
That night Jongho sleeps surrounded by his members, but he feels a strange sense of loneliness he can’t seem to shake off.

-

Time moves on and Jongho loses himself in preparing for upcoming end of the year award shows and everything’s fine, except it really isn’t, because the itch inside him keeps growing, building every time he sees his hyungs huddle together in front of the tv, half asleep and drooling on each other’s shoulders while he sits in his chair off to the side. He grabs onto the small blanket on his lap and shivers—in disgust, he tells himself—because he can’t stand seeing his hyungs all draped over each other while there’s more than enough space left on the couch—hell, there’s even another chair left—but they just have to be so close together. Jongho feels the ache in his chest grow and he shivers again.

“Jongho, come here.” San is beckoning him to come closer and join the cuddle fest that’s going on and Jongho chokes, the ache growing until it reaches his throat and he feels like he can’t breathe.

“Yeah, I haven’t cuddled our precious maknae in so long! C’mere, Jjongie!” Wooyoung makes grabby hands from where he’s draped over San, a pout on his lips and his eyes playful. Jongho apparently takes too long to answer, because Yunho steps in.

“Guys, we know Jongho isn’t really into… all this. Just leave him be.”

His hyung says it softly, but Jongho hears him loud and clear. He knows it’s supposed to help him, but why does it make him feel worse? Why does it feel like he’s been stabbed in the chest multiple times? He wrings his hands in the blanket and, oh god, are those tears in his eyes? Fuck, he feels pathetic, tearing up while his hyungs were just trying to be nice to him. He should laugh their comments away and act like they don’t bother him, but he can’t do it, so he scrapes his throat and stands up, stammering out some sort of excuse before fleeing to his room. He feels their eyes on him while he leaves, probably wondering why he’s being so weird, but he doesn’t even know himself. He feels drained when he slumps down on his bed and he barely has enough energy to drag the covers up to his chin. He shivers again, this time from the cold that seems to have seeped through the thin window, and feels hot tears slip from his eyes. He curls in on himself, but it doesn’t make him feel any less cold. And perhaps it’s not so much the cold that’s bothering him, but the emptiness of the room and the fact that his hyungs are still seated in the living room, clustered together like glue. Jongho falls asleep that night, but his dreams are filled with images of his members looking at him in disgust and walking away from him.

-

Jongho wakes up with a headache, but it’s nothing he can’t manage, he tells himself as he stumbles out of bed and hits his toe on Wooyoung’s bedframe. He tries to muffle the string of curses he lets out and instantly braces himself for a scolding from his hyung for waking him up early, but is met with silence. Jongho slowly opens his eyes and sees… no one? Wooyoung’s bed is empty, his sheets thrown about and one of his plushies on the floor, and when Jongho turns, Yeosang is nowhere to be seen either. When he listens for the familiar sound of at least one of his hyungs stumbling about, he’s only met with more silence and his face falls into a frown. They were supposed to be at dance practice at 8 and it’s already… Jongho squints at his phone screen when it lights up and he feels his headache protest at the brightness he forgot to turn down last night. The numbers 10:52 glare at him from the screen, but Jongho’s attention is caught by something else on his screen. Or rather, the lack of something else. No messages or calls from his hyungs to let him know where they went or why they left him at the dorm, not even a message from their manager asking Jongho where he himself is. Something lands on his phone screen and Jongho’s sight goes blurry, until he realizes there’s tears dripping down his face and he covers his mouth to muffle a sob. He almost laughs at himself, realizing no one would hear him anyway, but he can’t even muster up the energy to do that as he sinks down on Wooyoung’s bed and grabs the sheets in a feeble attempt to hold onto some semblance of reality. He knows his hands are holding onto his hyung’s sheets, but he almost feels as if he’s outside of his body —yet trapped inside his own skin— and the familiar itch starts up again, making him want to scratch at his skin until it turns raw and red and bleeds.

But Jongho doesn’t do any of that, because he finds he just doesn’t have the strength to do anything. His hands no longer clutch the sheets and his tears have stopped falling and Jongho feels empty. He feels drained, even though he woke up minutes ago, and his headache is now persistently throbbing against his skull. Wooyoung’s pillow hits his head when he lies down and when his hyung’s scent surrounds him Jongho breathes it in deeply, finding some odd comfort in it. Jongho is too far gone to care about the details of that and he slips into a fitful sleep.

-

Soft whispers and mumbles greet Jongho’s ears when he wakes and his eyelids feel heavy when he opens them. He’s met with the sight of his roommates standing close together, whispering conspiratorially to each other. Yeosang and Wooyoung’s heads snap his way when he lifts his blanket, cringing at the fact that they saw him in the latter’s bed. He clears his throat, trying to get rid of the remnants of sleep clinging to him. Not like it matters much, because he thinks he feels even worse than before he fell asleep, throat scratchy and headache pounding against his temples.

“Sorry, did we wake you up?”

Yeosang’s soft voice breaks through his sleepy haze and his hyung sounds concerned, he thinks, which manages to annoy him for some reason. Why is Yeosang concerned when they clearly left him behind this morning and didn’t even bother to say why? Jongho shakes his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts, and his hyungs take it as a response and sigh in relief. Wooyoung tugs at Yeosang’s sleeve and the other nods at him.

“Well, we gotta—”

“Leaving again?”

Jongho almost smacks himself when he interrupts Wooyoung, the words leaving his mouth like poison. He sees Wooyoung’s eyes narrow as his face turns into a frown and guilt hits him like a truck at full speed. Why did he say that? Why did he open his stupid mouth, why didn’t he fucking think for once? Why did he—

“Jongho?”

A soft voice breaks through his storm of thoughts and Jongho brings his head up to look at the owner of said voice, but his eyes can’t seem to focus and, what the hell, why is his eyesight so blurry and oh. Oh, he’s crying. Silent, hot tears slide down his face as he looks at his hyung (Yeosang, he now sees) and racks his brain trying to come up with an excuse to explain this whole situation away. Maybe he can just blame his headache and they’ll leave him alone? And Jongho wants to be alone, he tells himself. He doesn’t want his hyungs looking at him with pity in their eyes, he doesn’t need their consoling words, he doesn’t he doesn’t he doesn’t.

But he’s so tired, and maybe, maybe, he just wants to be held for once. Unclenching his hands—he can feel the little nail marks he’s left behind—he grabs onto Yeosang’s hand, hoping it’ll convey the message he wants to bring across.

“Jongho, baby? Can you tell us what’s going on? We—all of us have been worried about you, but we didn’t want to pry or get in your way so, so I guess we didn’t.” A soft chuckle leaves Yeosang’s lips and his hand tightens around Jongho’s. “But I can see now that maybe that wasn’t the right way to go about it. What can we do to help you?”

“It’s not—It wasn’t—,” Jongho has to take a few deep breaths before continuing and Yeosang, ever so sweet, waits for him like he has all the patience in the world.

“Please don’t leave me.”

It’s all he manages to choke out before sobs overtake his body and tears blur his eyesight even more. Wooyoung, always the one more in tune with physical cues, moves past Yeosang and engulfs Jongho in a warm hug, one hand on Jongho’s head and the other rubbing his back in a soothing manner. Jongho grips onto his hyung like a lifeline, like he’s drowning in an ocean and the waves are about to overtake him, but Wooyoung’s hold is all he needs to stay afloat. Sobs still shake his body and he knows his tears and snot are making a wet patch on Wooyoung’s shirt, but his hyung doesn’t seem to mind as he shushes him like a parent would to a child, full of love and care.

“Shh, baby. I’m here, I’ve got you. You can let go.”

And Jongho does, wailing into his hyung’s strong hold as he keeps whispering sweet words to him. For once, Jongho lets himself break, but something inside him feels more whole than ever before.

Notes:

thank you if you've read this far! have a lovely day mwah