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Hongjoong had suspected that after the mission, Chan would be worried; he had not taken into account how worried he would become.
The mission was already weeks ago. There were no problems, and Seungmin was the only one who managed to get hurt. The slash on his thigh has already healed, and there has been no need to get into their heads about it. Jisung already chewed him out for his carelessness, so they didn't need to say anything more. As for everyone else, specifically Jongho, that became a problem later on.
They took away the timekeeper. Wooyoung has it in safekeeping, down in the basement, awaiting orders. Hongjoong has yet to give them, because Chan hasn't been able to find a reason as to why it was giving Jongho side effects. The nightmares were uncommon, and Jongho hadn't felt comfortable enough to go into detail about them.
They've tried coaxing him into telling them, but every time, they were shut down. Hongjoong and Chan went as far as to ask Jeongin if he's told him anything, but the younger had reluctantly shaken his head.
"He hasn't. Give him time, hyung." Jeongin told them, and Chan sighed and listened. They were not going to pressure him. He told them about the nightmares on his own will, and they'd wait until he felt it was time for them to know more.
Hongjoong could tell Chan was doing his best not to worry. The aftermath of missions always left him uptight. That wasn't unusual. After this case, Hongjoong was sure Chan would start pulling out his hair because of the timekeeper and how weird the days had felt. Hongjoong has let it slide, but seeing Chan pace around their own room with paperwork in hand—oh, he was at the end of his last thread.
"Hyung," Hongjoong groans out, shoving the clothes drawer closed. Hard enough to rattle the entire dresser. "You've been reading the same files every single day, and I love you, but I'm getting tired of it."
Chan pauses his pacing, startled. He looks at Hongjoong with wide eyes. "I'm just—"
"Worried, I know. I know, but you are not going to get anywhere until Jongho is ready to talk to us. I've told you this so many times. So drop it." Hongjoong snapped, heading into their en-suite bathroom and slamming the door shut. He's breathing heavily, plopping his clothes on the counter.
Hongjoong doesn't know why he snapped. He shouldn't have. He was just tired, maybe a little deprived of the presence of Chan. And now he's brought their workload into their bedroom. The one place where they do not need to be leaders, and have the time to unwind and be with each other.
Hongjoong sighs, standing up straight and turning on the shower. He waits for the water to warm, stripping down and stepping underneath the stream. He stands there for a while, alone with his own thoughts.
When they built this base from the ground up, Hongjoong had been like Chan. Worried, overworked. The more kids they started bringing in, the more they became aware of the state of their world. Some of them were—fine. Some were not as lucky as the others. Chan and Hongjoong made a promise to themselves that they would protect every single one of them and let no harm come to them.
When they were found, they were small. Young. They would not stay like that forever, and people gradually grow up. That is one thing they cannot ignore. Time flies by, and with it, the state of a person matures. They all grew, and the state of their base became permanent, their work less brutal and inconsistent. Things would never be perfect, and Hongjoong was aware that they could tip over at any moment. But they had to have trust and faith in everyone, because if they didn't, they would fall apart.
Hongjoong understands Chan's concerns. He has them too. The difference is that they were not kids anymore. They were not the scrawny teenage boys they had to constantly look after. Jongho, especially, grew up well. He learned to be his own person. He found solace within Jeongin. He knew his home would never be taken from him again.
He thinks Chan hasn't quite accepted that, not yet. This family they had, that they made—he was scared. They've encountered odd missions before, and the aftermath was always different. This one, especially, was different. Because the timekeeper wasn't even their main objective for the mission. Jongho just so happened to pick up the object and kept it for a while. They did not think anything of it. Why would they?
Then he brought it to them. He hadn't mentioned the nightmares at the time. He only told them that they should keep the item, and Hongjoong and Chan agreed. It was only days later that Jongho admitted it had caused strange side effects. They were having dinner, and Jongho looked more tired than usual. His laughs weren't as bright, and he was leaning into Jeongin like he was ten seconds away from passing out then and there.
"I keep dreaming about the timekeeper, but they aren't good dreams. And I don't know what it means." Jongho told them when everyone else left. He was so quiet, and there was almost a haunted look in his eyes. Hongjoong and Chan didn't push him any further, just let the two youngest go with some reassurances they'd try to get to the bottom of it.
Obviously, that was not going as planned. That didn't mean it changed their minds. Hongjoong stood by what he said. Though until Jongho was willing to share those nightmares with them, they did not have a lead. Wooyoung was trying to search for what the timekeeper meant, if there was anything they could do to track its history from the mission. So far, he has found nothing.
And because there was nothing, it's left Chan in a frenzied state. Why was it causing only Jongho side effects? Why did this small magnet of time, which looked absolutely normal, suddenly giving them trouble? No one understood.
At least nothing else had occurred. That didn't stop Chan from fretting over it nonstop. If he isn't in the basement, he's in his office. If he's not in his office, he's out doing patrol. And if that wasn't the case, he'd bring it to bed. Hongjoong had at least half a mind to not stress over it twenty-four seven, or bring it into their personal quarters. Chan, however, did not.
Hongjoong hadn't been too frustrated in the beginning, but he hasn't had proper alone time with Chan in what feels like forever. Fuck—he's used to Chan clinging to him like a damn wolf in rut. It's concerning, to say the least. And Hongjoong, sue him, misses it. He misses him.
Despite it all, and no matter how much he wants to be mad, Hongjoong couldn't stay that way. This was just how Chan was. He cared so much about everyone, always putting them before himself. Hongjoong just wished that sometimes he was put into that equation first. Not that Chan ever made him feel worthless. It had just become obvious, at certain points, that Chan got so lost he didn't think to come to Hongjoong and share those burdens with him. Even if that's why they built all of this together.
Hongjoong frowns and shakes his head. There was no use in overthinking this. There was also no use sulking in the middle of a shower when he could rinse off and go out there and talk to Chan himself about it.
He grabs the shampoo with a little more force than necessary. Pours some on the palm of his hand. He washes his hair, and does the same with the conditioner. Hongjoong goes through his usual shower routine. Washing himself clean from the sweat the day drowned him in.
When he's done, Hongjoong turns off the shower and steps out. He shivers from the cold air, drying off as quickly as possible and changing into his clothes. He would have changed in the room, but he was too angry to think about it. He stormed inside with his clothing in hand before he could think about setting them down. Hongjoong sighs, hanging his towel on the back of the door before opening it and shutting off the lights.
He's greeted by Chan sitting on the edge of the bed, no paperwork in hand. He's changed in the time he was showering. Shirtless, only having a pair of sweatpants on. His arms and chest are on display, showcasing the ink of his tattoos. His head shoots up at the sound of the bathroom door opening, and Hongjoong ends up scowling. A new wave of frustration rolls over him for a completely different reason this time. Leave it to Chan to arouse him, even if he was upset at the damn man.
"I'm going to bed," He says, a bit snippy. He forgoes his original plan to talk with him. Chan can deal with him being a brat for one night.
He moves to walk past him and get to his side of the bed. The lights have already been turned off, and only the lamp remains on, casting the room in a soft glow. He gets maybe three steps before Chan catches his wrist, tugging him towards him.
"No, absolutely not—"
"Hongjoong, wait, listen—"
"I will not! Why should I when you haven't listened to me once this entire week!" Hongjoong shouts, fighting against Chan. He lets go of his wrist, and he takes the moment of freedom to get out of range. He only makes it two steps before he fails again. Chan's arms wrap around his waist, and he manhandles Hongjoong—who is kicking and flailing around—until he's on his lap, facing Chan. That still doesn't stop him.
"You are such an ass, you know that?!"
"Joong, hey—ow! Fuck, okay, I get it!" Chan yelps as Hongjoong punches his bare chest and arms repeatedly. He keeps hurling random words, and Chan lets go of his waist to capture his hands to stop him from hitting him.
Hongjoong pauses. He's out of breath, yet continues to struggle against Chan. It proves no use. Chan hasn't even budged, and he raises an eyebrow when Hongjoong stops trying to fight against him. He looks frustrated, and he wants to laugh, if the sight of his chest rising and falling wasn't slightly distracting him. And the way he moves to hold both wrists in his hand as his other arm returns to wrap around his waist. This fucker.
"Are you done?" Chan asks, annoyed beyond anything.
"Are you?" He mimics, reeling in the way Chan opens and closes his mouth multiple times, taken aback.
Hongjoong stares him down, glaring. Chan has to close his eyes and breathe in deeply, pulling himself together. Hongjoong waits, his own heavy breathing slowly returning to normal.
The minutes tick by, and with them, Hongjoong's frustration begins to dwindle. He remains seated in Chan's lap, his shoulders stiff. Hongjoong does not speak and keeps his eyes set on Chan until he opens his eyes again.
"If I let you go, do you promise to stay put so we can talk this out?"
Softness replaces the annoyance from earlier. Hongjoong squints at him to see if he was being genuine. He almost scoffs at himself. Of course, Chan was being genuine; there was no reason for him not to be. To Hongjoong no less.
Reluctantly, he heaves a sigh. Chan waits, and he has no choice but to roll his eyes and nod his head. Chan still doesn't release his wrists until a few moments later, when he's completely sure Hongjoong is serious and won't go anywhere. It's happened before, so he doesn't blame him for being cautious.
Chan slowly lets go and moves his hands to settle them on his thighs. The touch on his bare skin almost makes Hongjoong jump, but he manages to hold back. He won't admit how touch-starved he's been. He will not.
"Talk to me," Chan says. His thumbs start moving back and forth gently, trying to get Hongjoong to relax. Unfortunately, it works. Chan knew all the right buttons to press and which ones not to.
"How many times have you asked me how my day was?"
"What?"
"How many times have we kissed this entire week? How many times have you brought work into our bedroom within the past two weeks when we swore we wouldn't do that anymore? How many times, Chan-hyung?" Hongjoong asks, demanding and slightly hurt.
His eyes flicker across Chan's face, and he watches in real time how it goes from confusion to guilt in an instant. His hands pause, and Hongjoong's immediately fall on top of them. Chan gets the hint, resuming the gesture while swallowing and looking into Hongjoong's eyes.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. And I shouldn't have let this worry me so much." Chan apologizes, and it's Hongjoong's turn to feel guilty. They could have avoided this if he had decided to just talk to him like normal. But Hongjoong has never been normal, and neither has Chan.
"All week I've been trying to tell you to slow down. I've been telling you, and you didn't listen. They're your kids as much as they are mine, but I'm also yours. What is the point of this ring if you always look past me?" Hongjoong brings their hands up between them. The matching rings on their fingers hard to ignore.
Chan stares at their hands. He doesn't do or say anything for a long while, and Hongjoong almost snaps, before he slowly brings his hand up to his lips.
His breath stutters. Chan kisses his ring finger, holding it there for a few seconds before retreating. He intertwines their fingers, and Hongjoong does not say a word. He lets Chan gather himself, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
"The point of this ring was to show that I found my other half. The one person I could share everything with, and who I built everything for. I'm sorry I've made you feel indifferent; that wasn't my intention." Chan says each word with love and sincerity. His tone is coaxing, making Hongjoong tremble. There are so many words he wants to say, to yell at Chan.
He kisses him instead.
Chan puts his hands back on his waist, tugging him closer. Hongjoong runs his hands through his short blonde hair, down his shoulders, and up again. He digs his nails into his skin lightly, pulling a low groan from Chan. It makes Hongjoong smile against his lips, pulling apart slowly to stare into Chan's adoring gaze.
"What do you need from me?" Chan asks, running his hands up and down Hongjoong's sides.
"Hold me. That's all I need," Hongjoong whispers.
Chan does exactly that. He lays him underneath the covers, turning off the lamp before settling down next to Hongjoong. He pulls him into his arms, and the night is finally warm.