Chapter Text
When Chan blinks his eyes open, he feels worryingly well-rested. Usually he’s still a bit groggy when he wakes up, and not entirely looking forward to getting out of bed. His head aches a little for at least fifteen minutes after he gets up, usually rescinded by a cup of tea. Today, though, he feels great- very awake.
For most people, this would be a pleasant surprise. For Chan, this immediately sets alarm bells ringing in his head. His fears are confirmed when he glances at the clock on his bedside table and it reads 11:32. He’s sat up in an instant, eyes wide and chest tight. If he was paying more attention, he would have seen the note from Soonyoung and the bottle of strawberry milk from Jeonghan next to his clock.
This is bad. He never sleeps through his alarm. If anything, he usually wakes up before it even goes off. Everyone’s going to be so angry with him- they were supposed to be at the studio by seven this morning, not noon. Tears are filling his eyes as Chan kicks his feet out from under the blankets and gets up, grabbing the nearest pieces of clothing that he can find and pulling it on with trembling hands.
He’s so mortified. This is his job, he’s supposed to be good at this. Now he’s got to rock up to the studio more than four hours late on his own, only to join his members who have been working since before the sun was up. Like he should have been. He’s a pathetic excuse for an idol, he should be working harder.
No matter how many deep breaths he takes, the coil in his chest continues to pull tighter as he rushes through his morning routine- brushing his teeth, combing his hair, gathering together his things. By the time he should be walking out the door, he can barely stand straight in front of it.
His cheeks are soaked with miserable tears, and it feels so tempting to just crawl back into bed and pretend that this day hasn’t happened. There’s no way he can fix this, there’s no way he can come out of this unscathed. The more he imagines walking into the studio and facing the others, the more impossible it feels. He should just quit now, and save himself the embarrassment.
Chan may be the youngest, but he’s not supposed to be incompetent.
God, this is such a mess. He just knows that they’ll never drop this. After they yell at him and their manager yells at him, he’ll never live it down. They’ll turn him into a joke, they all will- they won’t let him be. Oh, God, he really doesn’t want to go.
When he comes back to himself, he’s coughing around stifled sobs and gasping breaths. His head is going fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, black spots dancing in his peripheral vision, and his legs are giving up on him. He drops his water bottle and his keys and falls to the floor, curling up around himself and hiding his face to give himself some semblance of safety.
He’s drowning, suffocating- his chest won’t expand when he wants it to, his lungs refuse to pull in any air, and he’s choking on the saliva pooling in his mouth. He digs his short nails into his scalp and pressing his knees into his eye sockets. A half-scream, half-whine is ripped from his throat.
He’s pathetic- a big pathetic mess falling apart on their living room floor.
The sound of blood rushing past his ears is so overwhelming that he doesn’t hear the click of the front door opening barely a metre away. His skin is so numb he doesn’t feel the rush of cold air that washes over him from outside. He’s so out of it that he doesn’t notice Seungcheol and Mingyu until familiar hands appear on his back and on his head.
“Channie? Chan-ah, what’s going on?” Seungcheol asks, voice frantic as he squeezes at Chan’s shoulders. Mingyu’s on his other side, one hand carding through his hair, the other cupping his neck, two fingers pressed against his pulse point. “Channie, we’re here now. We’re here, you’re okay. We’ve got you, it’s all okay.”
Chan can’t help the sob that escapes his mouth, spluttering messily against his own thighs, choking on his next gasping breath. “Channie, this isn’t- no- come on, sit up for me Chan-ah.” Mingyu stutters, pressing a hand against the younger’s chest to unfurl him, trying to get him to sit up straight.
Chan can’t fight his instinct to resist, wrapping a hand around Mingyu’s wrist and pushing him away as forcefully as he can. He lifts his head just to glare at Mingyu, who is now sat on his backside, his arm cradled against his stomach. Chan realises in an instant what he’s done and is horrified with himself.
He tries to squeeze out an apology around his sobs, scooting himself backwards until he can get to his feet, backing away from the two of them with his hands outstretched to ward them off. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. They’re definitely going to be angry with him now, even if they weren’t before- he’s hurt Mingyu when he was only trying to help.
His back hits the wall and he folds in on himself, arms wrapped tightly around his waist like he’s trying to physically hold himself together. He can’t stop crying, his sobs coming fast and painful, constricting his throat more and more until he gags.
“Buddy, you’re going to make yourself sick. I really need you to try to calm down.” Seungcheol warns, stooping down to look Chan in the eyes. “Nobody’s angry with you, I promise. There’s nothing to worry about, it’s just us. We’re with you.”
Chan whines, trembling hands reaching out towards his hyung, gasping out Seungcheol’s name. Seungcheol steps forward enough for Chan to wrap his fingers into the fabric of his T-shirt, pulling him even closer. Seungcheol does what he’s wanted to do this entire time- he grasps Chan by the shoulders and tugs him into the warmest and most comforting hug.
When he’s got his face buried in Chan’s hair, that’s when Seungcheol finally lets his tears fall. He sniffles and holds his dongsaeng tighter, pressing a hand to the back of his head to keep Chan close. He only loosens his grip- against all of his protective instincts- when he remembers that Chan is struggling to breathe, and maybe smothering him with love isn’t the best idea.
“There we go, baby. Let’s go sit down, hm?” Chan nods, resting his forehead against Seungcheol’s collarbone, his hair tickling the skin of Seungcheol’s neck. “Mingyu, could you get us some water, love?” Mingyu nods, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he rushes off. He trips over Chan’s water bottle and picks it up, but still disappears out of the room.
When he comes back, Seungcheol’s got Chan cuddled up in his lap on the sofa, the younger boy considerably calmer and- understandably- exhausted. His eyes are closed and he’s slumped in Seungcheol’s hold. Mingyu presses a lingering kiss to the top of his head as he leans over to wrap Chan up in his blanket, helping him take slow sips from his water bottle after he’s all warm and comfy.
“There we go,” Seungcheol whispers into Chan’s hair. He sounds absolutely shattered but obviously relieved that he’s managed to get Chan breathing safely again. It’s always scary to witness something like this, let alone be responsible for remedying the situation.
A sudden feeling of guilt washes over Seungcheol. Whenever someone is upset or anxious, there are always certain people that are expected to help. Junhui, Soonyoung, Minghao, Hansol, Chan- they do this all of the time. And every time, it must feel just as awful. Seungcheol had always assumed, somewhat unconsciously, that because they find it easier to calm their frightened members, it must not affect them as badly. He now realises how stupid that thought was. None of them want to see their members, their brothers, in pain.
“I’m sorry, Mingyu-hyung.” Chan’s voice is scratchy, his eyes red and sore but sincere when they meet Mingyu’s. The elder furrows his eyebrows and cups a hand around Chan’s jaw, thumb stroking slowly across his sharp cheekbone. “I shouldn’t have-”
“Channie, no.” Mingyu cuts him off, leaning forwards to knock their foreheads together, making sure that Chan knows that he isn’t angry. “Don’t apologise. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve just had a panic attack, you were scared. I can’t blame you.” Chan sighs a little sadly- both Mingyu and Seungcheol can tell just by that that he hasn’t forgiven himself yet. Mingyu decides to leave it for now, instead sitting back and feeding him more water.
“How are you feeling, poppet?” Seungcheol asks, pulling Chan’s attention back to him.
“Tired. Nauseous.” Chan replies, tucking his head into the space beneath Seungcheol’s chin. After a moment of silence, he speaks up again. “I slept through my alarm. I missed rehearsal.”
“Is that why you got so anxious?” Mingyu tries to keep his voice unassuming. He’s the first to admit that he doesn’t have the first clue how anxiety works, or how Chan experiences it, and he would never want to make Chan feel like he’s being belittled or underestimated.
“I thought you would be angry with me.” He’s so quiet when he says it. Like he’s ashamed, or still expecting Seungcheol and Mingyu to be mad. They both lean to kiss his hair at the same time, desperately trying to convince him that they’re not upset at all. They just love him a lot.
Chan giggles a little bit when Seungcheol and Mingyu’s heads knock together.
“Channie you missed your alarm this morning but Junhui didn’t want to wake you. You were exhausted, you’ve been working so hard recently- we decided you deserved a day off. You didn’t miss practice, you didn’t have to be there. You’ve got the routine perfectly already. You deserved a rest.” Seungcheol explains all of this while pulling Chan impossibly closer and rocking him lightly from side to side, like a baby. Usually Chan would be embarrassed by this and protest, but right now he’s grateful for the comfort. No one is getting him out of his leader’s arms.
Being Chan’s eldest hyung is a responsibility that Seungcheol takes very seriously, he has ever since they were first put in a group together. Chan is strong-willed and stubborn, but he still needs looking after sometimes. Seungcheol makes sure to always listen to him and respect him like a colleague, but love him and protect him like a brother. That’s what a good hyung does.
“I didn’t know.” Chan’s voice is thick with sleep. “I thought you were going to yell at me.”
“We would never do that, baby. Even if you did sleep in by accident- if you don’t wake up to your alarm, that’s your body telling you that you need to rest.” Chan blindly lifts a hand for Mingyu to take- which he does, lacing their fingers together and kissing Chan’s knuckles. Chan lets out a content sigh, snuggling even closer to Seungcheol’s chest.
“Love you, hyungs.”