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“I’m like a plant.”
“Explain.”
“If you don’t give me attention, I’ll die.”
Daehyeon lifts his body from the couch to peer back at Yongha, his expression incredulous. “Wow. Dramatic much?”
“It’s true,” Yongha shoots back nonchalantly.
Daehyeon simply continues to stare at him. Yongha’s statement is surely an exaggeration, but then he remembers how Yongha had literally seemed like he was withering after the time he had spent two weeks alone in the dorms. They had been on vacation, and only Yongha’s family was out of the country; Yongha had rejected all of their invitations to join them, brushing off politely that he didn’t want to interrupt their relaxing family time. Yet, when Daehyeon returned, he was confronted with a wilting, oddly quiet, pale-faced Yongha with deep, dark eye bags as though he hadn’t slept all week. He had brightened back up quickly with them all back, but the image remains inside Daehyeon’s head regardless.
He’s been far less willing to leave Yongha all on his own ever since then.
Now, though, he’s worried he’s missed something. Why is Yongha voicing this thought? Has Daehyeon been neglecting him at all?
“Is this a general reminder? Or do you need something?”
Yongha fidgets in his seat, somehow managing to appear embarrassed even as he meets Daehyeon’s eyes unimpressed, like he should already know the answer. Of course. Yongha wouldn’t just say this without any reason. He must be in need of some attention and care.
Right. He should always be attuned to his groupmates to ensure he’s there for them as best as he possibly can be.
Yongha’s done well to reach out as much as he has, considering his occasionally low sense of self worth might impede with asking for help. Now it’s Daehyeon’s turn to act.
He thinks over what Yongha might like before settling on a game plan.
“Hey, didn’t that anime movie you were looking forward to come out?”
Yongha blinks back. “Um, yeah, why?”
“Could you put it on the TV for us while I make us some ramen?”
Yongha’s eyes sparkle. He always gets so excited when Daehyeon cooks for him, and Daehyeon himself loves to relish in the praise Yongha directs toward his meals.
“Ramen is my favorite late-night snack, hyung,” Yongha says with wonder.
Daehyeon stifles his urge to laugh and say, ‘Yes, I know.’
Preparing food for Yongha and watching a movie together of Yongha’s choice is a start to showing the other how important he is to Daehyeon. The next phase comes later.
Once they’ve polished off their bowls, Yongha lets loose a content sigh, rubbing his hand over his belly and scooching back against the couch. His eyes remain transfixed on the screen before him. Daehyeon watches him fondly before pulling out the rest of his plan.
“You can’t be too full for dessert, can you?” When the younger man turns to him, Daehyeon pulls out a bag of homerun balls he had fetched from his room earlier. His intent when he bought them had been to enjoy them all for himself, but making Yongha happy is a valiant cause for which to sacrifice half of the treat.
Yongha’s jaw drops in shock, so Daehyeon takes the opportunity to feed him, popping one of the chocolate snack balls into Yongha’s open mouth.
Yongha dutifully chews and swallows the offering before turning to him once again in surprise. “Why are you sharing your snacks?? Actually, why are you making me ramen and watching my anime with me? What’s going on??”
But Daehyeon doesn’t answer. It’s too embarrassing to be that sappy and say something like what he really means, which is: ‘I’m long overdue to dote on my baby.’
Instead, he slides closer on the sofa cushion and leans his weight against Yongha. “Shut up and watch the movie.”
“I’m trying, but you’re being extra cute over here,” Yongha whines.
I’m the one who’s being too cute?? , Daehyeon wants to complain.
Nevertheless, they return their focus to the television set. Until after a few minutes of comfortable silence, when Yongha starts, “Y’know, I used to find you intimidating.”
This kind of comment once startled Daehyeon, but by now, he knows what Yongha’s talking about. “Cuz of my sharp-looking features, right? And that time I cursed when you were climbing down from the bunk bed?”
Yongha laughs at the memory. “I couldn’t go to the bathroom all night because I was scared the noise of me leaving would make you mad.”
Daehyeon scratches the back of his head. “I’m still sorry about that, I didn’t mean to.”
“I know. We’ve gotten closer now and I have a better sense of who you really are, anyway.”
“Who’s that?”
“A sweet and cuddly hyung.” As if to prove his point, he gestures at their linked arms and shoots him a blissful smile. He looks a lot more relaxed than he had earlier in the night.
That’s as much as Daehyeon could hope for, so he mentally pats himself on the back for his small success. It’s pretty astounding how Yongha can make him feel simultaneously like a reliable leader and also like just a guy hanging out with a friend.
“I’m glad we got close,” Daehyeon admits.
“Me too,” Yongha returns.
—----
Donghan is happy with the dynamic he’s forged with his groupmates over the years. He loves to tease them, but he is also known to shower his dongsaengs (and his leader) with love. So, naturally, when he sees someone who could use some love, he is inclined to positively drown that member with his lavish affections. Today, there is someone more than fit to be on the receiving end.
“I’ll come along,” he says abruptly.
Yongha turns to him with a clenched jaw and hands in shaky fists. The nervous vibes pore off him in waves, broadcasting his clear unease. “Huh? But- Isn’t the soccer match you were waiting for starting soon?”
“It’s taping,” he tells him with a wave of the hand. “I’ll catch it later. Anyway, how could I miss you recording lines for your cover song?”
Yongha exhales harshly before whining. “Like there isn’t enough pressure on me already! How am I supposed to focus if you’re there, too?”
Donghan steps forward, sensing it is the time for a softer touch. “Hey, it’s just me. You know I think you’re incredible no matter what you do- I’ve never been disappointed in your performances. It might help you relax if you have a familiar face there with you, right?”
This draws out a small, grateful smile from Yongha, although his eyes remain fixed on the floor. Yongha’s low self-confidence frustrates Donghan at times, but it’s never Yongha he’s upset with- it’s more so that he blames the industry they’re in for ever making Yongha feel that he is not good enough. He understands to a degree- solo stuff is always nerve-wracking, and song covers represent the unique challenge of trying to do justice to the original work. It’s a two-fold operation.
“You might be right,” Yongha admits finally.
Donghan rubs one hand up and down Yongha’s arm. “I always am.”
“Alright. Let’s go.” Yongha lifts his head, and his frame trembles markedly less as they step out the front door of their dorm.
When they reach the studio and give the producer their greetings, Donghan sees Yongha off into the recording room with a final “Fighting!” accompanied by a bright grin. Yongha manages to smile back. So Donghan feels reassured as he sits down outside the sound booth and prepares to be blessed with some light, gorgeous vocals.
It is when Yongha bounds out of the room afterwards, adrenaline still high from singing, that Donghan leaps up from his spot to welcome him back. He easily matches the other’s enthusiasm as Yongha still rides the high before the exhaustion will hit him. That is Yongha’s pattern when he’s simultaneously stressed and excited.
Yongha bites his lip and looks at him expectantly, so Donghan doesn’t keep him waiting any longer.
“You were amazing.”
The energy bleeds out of Yongha as he contentedly slumps against Donghan’s side. Donghan’s own hands hesitate for only a moment. He has seen Daehyeon pat Yongha on the head many a time, seen how Yongha loves it. It doesn’t seem like enough for the moment, however. So Donghan goes a step further, wrapping one arm around Yongha’s shoulder while the other reaches up to ruffle his long locks.
Yongha leans into the touch and doesn’t even glare at Donghan for messing up his hair. Which Donghan takes as his signal that he is enjoying the gesture.
“Seriously, you did great. Everyone’s gonna be in awe when it gets released. You should be proud,” he praises. Every affirmation seems to let further tension leave Yongha’s body.
“You mean it? You’re not just saying that?”
Yongha’s question had been quiet, but Donghan hears him loud and clear. He also knows how much louder the annoying voices in Yongha’s head can be, so he does his part to shut them up.
“Would I lie to you? It’s the truth. I’m even considering asking the PD to send me a snippet so I can use it as my ringtone.”
Yongha giggles whole-heartedly.
“Look how it all worked out- you were so worried, but that only made you work even harder. I believe you can do anything that you try. And hey, I think celebration is in order. I’ll buy you fried chicken later in the week to congratulate you on a successful session.”
Yongha beams. “You promised. All the chicken I can eat, right?”
Donghan might normally tease the other for his eating habits here or pretend to backtrack, but the younger has him in a particularly indulgent mood. He finds it adorable how Yongha believes in him this deeply, that Donghan’s opinions have such an influence on him. It’s pretty flattering. So, all he says is, “Of course. As much as you want.”
If Donghan keeps his arm over Yongha’s shoulders the entire way home, well, that’s their own business. Donghan is the one who teases the rest of them in the group, but as long as no one else is around to give him a taste of his own medicine, he doesn’t mind giving in to his urges to smother the ever-cute Yongha. No one except Yongha is around to call him whipped for it.
—----
Yohan is the world’s foremost authority on sleeplessness.
Between his solo promotions, variety show appearances, and drama roles, he recalls how it feels to be delirious from sleep deprivation. To feel somehow floaty and heavy at the same time, desperate for even one more minute with which he can close his eyes, fall onto a soft surface, and pillow his head in his own arms.
Luckily, things have been calmer recently. Or at least it seemed that way. Maybe he was the only one who got a reprieve. Because he notices again tonight, as he has noticed the past several nights in a row, that the bed opposite his is empty.
“Where have you been sleeping…?” he wonders aloud. On the studio couch in their company building? At a cheap hotel room closer to his schedules? Neither sounds particularly appealing.
It all makes Yohan breathe a sigh of relief when his roommate finally returns. For all of two seconds, anyway.
“I’m home,” Yongha calls out, before he promptly drops. He flumps onto the carpeted floor as if by strong magnetic force. And there he remains.
When he doesn’t stir, Yohan walks over quickly. There’s audible relief when he notices the other is simply resting and not passed out. He stares down at him. “You’ll hurt your back.”
Yongha only groans in response.
Yohan prods him with his foot, but the other doesn’t even flinch. It’s like he’s a deadweight. “Someone’s gonna trip over you if you stay here. I’ll drag you into the room, you know I will.”
His threat goes unanswered. Yongha knows when he is bluffing by now. Sure enough, Yohan has no intention of dragging the tired boy along the floor. Instead, he only releases a long-suffering sigh and bends down. He hooks one arm underneath Yongha’s knees and the other arm beneath his back. He heaves and somehow manages to lift him up.
He has princess-carried Yongha before, but that was on camera for a game. In the privacy of their own home, for the sake of caring for him, it all feels so tender and intimate.
This intensifies when a drowsy Yongha breathes out against his neck, “You’re sweet.” Then, he pecks Yohan’s cheek, and his eyes slip closed.
Yohan glances around first, to ensure there is no one there to witness his face, before reacting. Not a soul. So he doesn’t bother masking his pleased smile with an expression of mock disgust.
“How cute,” a voice calls out behind him.
Damn it. “Where were you hiding?” Yohan accuses as his cheeks blush red. He keeps his voice down so as not to disturb Yongha if he has truly fallen asleep in his arms.
Seokhwa raises his hands in a placating gesture. “Does it really matter? Just go make sure the baby gets some sleep.”
“Says another baby,” Yohan shoots back. Seokhwa might not act much like a baby in personality, being unexpectedly mature and independent, but he definitely looks like one. “And believe me, I intend on it.”
He is getting rather heavy, so Yohan doesn’t look back at Seokhwa again before adjusting his hold on Yongha and bringing him into their room. After safely arranging all of Yongha’s limbs on his bed, he shuts the door. Then, he thinks on it for a second before grabbing a piece of paper, scotch tape, and a black marker from his desk.
Fifteen seconds later, a message hangs on the outside of the door. <Sleeping Room - Do Not Disturb (even if you are a manager hyung)> He’s quite proud of his handiwork.
“You’ve worked hard. You’ve earned some rest,” he whispers against Yongha’s hair. He goes back to his own bed and puts in his headphones, enjoying the quiet company of the roommate who’s been gone for too many days. Even if he complains about it at times, he much prefers sharing a room with Yongha to sleeping alone.
He gets through half of the playlist he had selected and four phone games when he hears a loud yawn. He pulls out one earbud to see Yongha rolling on his side to face Yohan. He rubs his eyes ferociously, and his eyebags sort of make him look like a raccoon. He doesn’t think Yongha would appreciate this thought, so he keeps it to himself.
“Thank you,” Yongha says eventually. “For putting me to bed. I wasn’t too hard to pick up?”
“I’ll live. Easier to cope with sore arms than your whining when the living room floor inevitably gave you a shitty night’s sleep. Plus, I’ve been working out,” he brags.
“You’re a big softy, aren’t you?” Yongha says with a fond smile, pointedly ignoring Yohan’s excuses. “I used to feel awkward around you cuz I thought you were some cool, attractive idol that I’d never measure up to. But you’re really a goofball.”
“Look who’s talking. I assumed you’d be cold or standoffish from your looks. At least until I heard you talk. Now I know you’re just a weird guy.”
They’ve come pretty far from strangers to brothers. From placing one another on a pedestal to seeing each other as a person: faults, strengths, and all. Yohan accepts every part of Yongha, and he knows Yongha does the same for him. They have good chemistry. They’re the cowardly 99-liners, the silly variety show kings, the 4D twins. They’re Yohan and Yongha, and it’s one of the relationships Yohan treasures most in the world.
“I’m still tired…”
“So sleep more, dummy.”
Seeming to sense his sentimental mood, Yongha pushes his luck a bit. “Tuck me in and sing to me?”
Yohan rolls his eyes, but he really can’t deny the other boy anything. He hums some jaunty tune as he pulls the blanket up over Yongha’s shoulders. He sits on the mattress beside him and feels some gravitational force that keeps him from standing. So there he remains, lulling Yongha to sleep and feeling the corners of his own lips raise all the while.
—----
“I see you woke up and chose violence today.”
“I see you thought you’d get away with using up the last of my shampoo. Really, the hubris is unimaginable.”
Seokhwa stares down the culprit of the shampoo-theft with all the menacing factor of a kitten. A wet kitten. He resumes his assault on the other by slapping at his arms.
“Ouch! Okay, I give! I’ll buy you a new one!” Yongha rolls out of reach of Seokhwa’s flailing limbs.
“You better. Why’d you even take mine, anyway? Didn’t you just order your super-special kind last week? I thought you had a very particular haircare routine.”
Yongha heaves out a sigh and looks at the ground before responding. “The silky look was too feminine. People kept saying ‘he thinks he’s a girl, but he’s not as pretty as one.’ ” The pout that overtakes his face would be cute if he didn’t seem so genuinely upset by the comments.
It’s time for the bickering to end, Seokhwa realizes. Yongha doesn’t need someone to rib him at the moment; he needs a friend to lend an ear. Seokhwa would listen until his ears fell off if it helped Yongha feel better.
“And hearing them say that bothered you?” he prompts.
“I’m just… tired of being compared so negatively to others. If my hair’s short, I look just like every other idol, only not as attractive. If my hair’s long, I’m trying to be something I’m not, and I can’t pull it off as well as others have.”
Seokhwa sympathizes. The daily struggle of being perceived all around the world, either fading into the background or standing out for the wrong reasons, plagues many in their profession. Stacking up unfavorably is a fear Seokhwa himself often experiences.
“Plus, it’s already so much worrying about my dance, my vocals, my stage presence, and my variety persona even before I start to overanalyze my appearance. I don’t know, it’s just like… Will anything I do ever be good enough?”
Without even realizing it, Seokhwa has taken Yongha’s hand in his. His thumb strokes up and down the back of Yongha’s hand. Yongha seems to appreciate the point of contact, if the way he squeezes back serves as any indication.
When it seems Yongha is done saying his piece, Seokhwa organizes his thoughts in his head. He’s always one to carefully consider before speaking, and he wants to ensure he says the right things now.
“Some people make up their minds about someone without ever giving them a chance, and nothing we can say or do will change how they feel. But for everyone out there who won’t have the chance to get to know you, there’s someone who WILL see your drive and your talent and your charms. Someone who will be impressed by everything that you are and what you show the world. And even if it’s hard to find them, you have me and our bandmates by our side who know how incredible you are.”
Yongha throws him a watery smile as he leans his head against Seokhwa’s. “Thank you for saying that. I think I get so in my head sometimes that I forget how lucky I am to have you guys around me.”
“We’ll keep reminding you, then,” Seokhwa says easily.
“I’m sorry to unload on you over some childish insecurity. You shouldn’t have to cheer me up for that; I should be able to handle it myself by now. I’m sure I annoy you a lot. I can be really dumb and overbearing, yet I still expect others to drop everything to deal with me. What’s the word you used earlier? Hubris…? Audacious.”
Seokhwa’s frown lines rival the deepest canyons. “That’s not what I meant. If I’ve ever given off the impression that you legitimately bother me, then I should apologize. It wasn’t my intention at all. I know I say a lot of shit when we’re joking around, but I love you. I don’t find you annoying at all. I think you’re a wonderful big bro, and I like being around you, even when you’re feeling down. Especially then, I want to be there to help.”
“But-”
Seokhwa had sat by while Yongha self-deprecated earlier, wanting him to open up rather than cutting him off, but he can’t stand to hear another word of it now. “No buts. It’s better to tell someone how you’re doing instead of holding it all in. I’m glad you told me. There’s nothing more amazing than allowing yourself to be vulnerable. It’s no burden to me, and it doesn’t make you a failure. We’re stronger together. I know you wouldn’t have let yourself lean on anyone in the past, particularly someone younger than you, but I’m amazed at you. And it makes me feel special and important that you’d confide in me.”
It’s more heartfelt than anything Seokhwa has said in the past several months, he’s sure. But if it’s what Yongha wants to hear, he’ll share with him every saccharine thought he has toward the elder.
“When did you get so grown up…?” Yongha wonders aloud.
“Since we’ve been on this journey together for two years now. Give me some credit. Of course I’ll grow up with mama Daehyeon-hyung, papa Donghan-hyung, and lame-but-also-cool big brothers like you and Yohan-hyung. Plus, someone has to teach our maknae the ropes.”
Yongha giggles, and it’s a much better look on him than the sorrow that colored his features earlier.
“Please know you can come to me anytime you feel inadequate,” Seokhwa whispers then. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, it’d give you a huge confidence boost.”
“Yeah? Would I be better with a big ego?” Yongha jokes.
“It would be an appropriate-sized one. You really are awesome.”
That’s as much as Seokhwa can admit to at this point, so he combats the embarrassment by thwapping Yongha in the face with a pillow. The action is so sudden Yongha doesn’t even get the opportunity to protect his head with his arms.
“But I still won’t forget that you owe me shampoo.”
Yongha smiles back and nods, saying “Sure, sure.” But it doesn’t stop him from continuing the pillow fight. The air feels much lighter as they continue their game.
—----
“ ‘Those who enter here, abandon all hope.’ ”
Junseo reads the creepy lettering off the signpost before turning back to his groupmates.
“Well, that’s ominous.”
Yongha whimpers. “What kind of sadists want to see us go into a haunted house? How is that fun?”
Their manager claps a hand onto Yongha’s shoulders. “Come on, the fans will love it, and it’ll be over before you know it. Now, the director is thinking you’ll split up into three pairs-”
Junseo raises one hand into the air. “Can I go with Yongha-hyung?”
The others look surprised he’s volunteering to partner up with the one likely to scream his eardrums out or cut off his circulation while clinging onto his arm. But he’s determined and eager. He doesn’t often get to care for his hyung.
Daehyeon and Yohan will also be scared, certainly, but Junseo will entrust them to Donghan and Seokhwa so that he can focus on making Yongha feel safe.
Their manager recovers quickly from his unexpected declaration. “We were planning to do rock-paper-scissors to decide the teams.”
“Please?” Junseo pleads.
“Alright, fine, if you feel that strongly about it.”
Junseo internally cheers and doesn’t even pay attention as the other four members work out their own pairs. It occurs to him then, and he quickly turns to Yongha. “Wait, I didn’t even ask you if you were okay with that! Sorry for assuming-”
Yongha offers back a serene smile. “It’s okay. I want to be your partner, too.”
That calmness doesn’t last long.
Junseo links their arms before grasping Yongha’s hand in his. Once they are firmly holding hands, he intertwines their fingers. He can feel Yongha’s fairly accelerated heartbeat through his palm under the tight grip he has.
As the first group given permission to go ahead, they wait for the green light and then venture into the haunted house with self-cam in Junseo’s other hand. The atmosphere lent to the space from the dark lighting, the fog machine obscuring the floor, and the mysterious fabrics draped over chairs or gaps and holes in the walls truly feeds into the sense of fear. Junseo sees it all as smoke and mirrors, but Yongha gasps, and his breath hitches.
Junseo reminds him to let air in by leaning closer and exaggerating his own breathing, expanding his lungs as much and as slow and steady as possible. Mercifully, Yongha follows his lead. His nails dig into the back of Junseo’s hand, but Junseo would never dare complain about being the other’s support.
They make it through a few more rooms. Whenever Junseo spots movement in the corner of his eye, he steps forward and shields Yongha’s body behind his own. “I’ve got you,” he tells him in as stable a voice as he can manage.
The next area they enter plays a haunting melody over hidden speakers. The screeching of the violins puts even Junseo on edge. So it’s no wonder when Yongha whines, “I don’t want to be here any longer, Junseo-yah…”
He cooes sympathetically at his hyung. “We’re almost through,” he assures him, hoping to be of some comfort.
Yet, there’s an obstacle he hadn’t foreseen. There’s a strangled yelp at his side until Yongha throws himself into Junseo’s arms. His panting is frantic and his body shaking as he scrambles to press tighter against Junseo’s chest. Junseo is so startled that he can only automatically wrap his own arms back around Yongha and envelop him in a hug.
He looks down to spot the source of Yongha’s distress, where he spots the arm of an actor, their hand open and outstretched. Ah. They had probably grabbed his ankle, then.
He pets Yongha’s hair and doesn’t let go. It’s too clunky to accomplish this while holding up his camera, so he sets it down and sacrifices getting footage for now to help calm Yongha. He draws back only slightly when he senses the shuddering of Yongha’s shoulders; this allows him to see Yongha’s face. He is so afraid that he actually looks close to tears.
Junseo wants to keep him from anything that could upset or harm him. “I’m here with you. Nothing’s gonna get you. I won’t let any of these bullies near you.”
The employees merely doing their jobs, creating frights and imitating ghosts, could hardly be called bullies. Yet anyone who makes Yongha cry is the enemy in Junseo’s book.
“The exit’s just up ahead. Do you think you’re ready to move? I promise it’ll feel so much better when we’re outside. We’re together every step of the way, and you’re going to be okay.”
Yongha nods. Without removing his head from where it is burrowed against Junseo, they shuffle forward. Thankfully, Junseo sees the light pouring in from the cracks between the door and the wall. He throws it open to reveal the world outside. He walks Yongha a distance away from the building before he feels Yongha's body relax entirely into him.
The other four had been waiting their turn, but when they see Yongha’s state, they all descend upon them. Junseo holds up a hand to keep them from moving too quickly, not wishing for any of them to surprise Yongha and set him off again.
“Yongha, are you alright?” Daehyeon asks. He gets no response, so Daehyeon looks to Junseo instead.
“He’s gonna be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”
Donghan sees a window to raise the mood and doesn’t waste a second of it. “That was really brave of you, Yongha. You went first and led the way for the rest of us. I bet you Daehyeon and Yohan won’t even end up going in.”
Yongha only half-chuckles, still caught up in his head and the terror from earlier. But Junseo counts it as a small victory.
It seems Donghan’s words were false, because Daehyeon and Donghan do end up challenging the horror scene next. Yohan gleefully approaches the side of the building to listen in on Daehyeon’s screams (ignoring how that will be him soon), but Seokhwa lingers back and meets eyes with Junseo.
He’ll be okay, I’ve got him, Junseo communicates back.
And he does. Until Yongha fully comes back to himself, he embraces him. When Yongha appears back to normal, he wipes the now-dried tear tracks off his own cheeks and mutters, “Thank you.”
“Naturally. What kind of little brother would I be if I couldn’t take some loving hugs from my cutest hyung?”
“Seokhwa’s your hyung, too,” Yongha reminds him.
“You’re both my cutest hyungs,” Junseo says with a wave of his hand.
“Thanks anyway. You’re really dependable.”
Junseo beams at the acknowledgement. He’s worked hard to present such an image. Back when he and Yongha were together in 1the9, they would have been closer if not for the self-imposed distance created by Yongha as the group’s leader. He set so many expectations for himself as his responsibilities weighed him down, and that included never sharing the weight or relying on others. Junseo is grateful that Yongha has loosened the reins now. That he trusts Junseo enough to come to him when he’s scared.
He must be lost in his thoughts, because the next thing he registers is fingers pinching his cheek. “Aigoo, don’t hurt yourself by thinking too much, Junnie. Neither of us is known for our brain power, after all.”
Junseo shakes off his hand and glares back. He can only maintain the angry expression for a moment before he breaks back into a smile. “Just thinking about the old days,” he clarifies.
Now Yongha’s smile matches his. “You’ve grown up so much. As much as people call me maknae, I like having you as my actual maknae.”
The recognition brings warmth to Junseo. He knows he doesn’t exactly look or act like the youngest, but to be the subject of his hyung’s abject adoration makes him feel like it. Even if most times, he wants to return the favor to his adorable Yongha.
“It was really awful in there,” Yongha says with a sigh, effectively changing the subject. “I swear we deserve some ice cream after this.”
“Are you buying?” Junseo jokes, knowing Yongha’s penchant to forget his wallet.
“Would you be buying?? Are you the hyung?” Yongha asserts, making Junseo look shocked for all of five seconds before he continues with: “Daehyeon-hyung will be paying, of course.”
Junseo laughs. Despite their current location at some odd, off-the-beaten-path haunted house for filming, he somehow always feels like he is at home when Yongha is by his side.
—----
THUMP!
“Son of a biscuit!”
“What?? What was that??”
Yongha would explain to Daehyeon that he heard the creative pseudo-curse from an American TV show, but he’s in too much pain at the moment to form additional words. His hand goes to his knee, which burns white-hot as if to forewarn of the rapid shaping of the bruise he knows will surface there by tomorrow.
At his unanswered question, Daehyeon peers over in the practice room mirrors to see Yongha fallen on the floor. He immediately runs to his side, his face serious. The rest of the group are quick to rush over as well once they understand the situation.
Yongha hisses when he tries to move his leg. Okay, not doing that again. “I, uh- I slipped and landed right on- Ow, shit!”
Donghan practically exudes calm, even as the stitch between his eyebrows betrays his own worry. “Stay still for now. We’ll call someone and get you proper medical attention.”
Good, since the current state of affairs is excruciating. It hurts as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to his kneecap.
Yohan crouches beside him, the face of anxiety. He covers his mouth with one hand. “It- It doesn’t look right. Do you think it’s dislocated?”
Yongha’s never dislocated his knee before. But this explanation sounds plausible. The pain is so extreme that it’s difficult to hold up a conversation, but talking distracts him, so he latches onto it. “With my luck. I must have hit the floor harder than I thought. Stu- Stupid mistake after doing this dance so many times. I’m sorry.”
Seokhwa leans in close so that his sad eyes and downturned lips are all Yongha can see. “This could have happened to any one of us. There’s no need for you to apologize. All we want is that you start feeling better.”
Junseo joins them then. “Our manager’s on the way with a doctor. They said not to move him.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” Daehyeon grunts as Donghan nods in agreement.
“We’re gonna get you help, hyung,” Junseo promises. Yongha holds onto that hope to ground him from the blinding white light that threatens to take over his vision.
The ache gets more insistent.
Someone’s hand is in his. Someone else whispers soothing things against the shell of his ear. Yongha’s brain is too fuzzy to process any of it. He’s out of it all the way through the doctor arriving. He clenches his eyes shut and wishes to feel nothing.
…….
It’s as Yohan had feared. A dislocated knee. Truly destroyed ligaments. A minimum healing period of about a month, though the doctor’s recommendation (order, more like) had been no strenuous activity for at least six weeks.
It’s fair to say a dark cloud hangs over Yongha following this announcement.
Daehyeon immediately takes on his leader-persona, doling out instructions. His tone is commanding and brooks no argument as he lays it all out: “Someone is going to stay with Yongha at all times. He really shouldn’t be getting up, ever, or putting any weight on his leg for a while. So someone will be around if he needs anything. The manager is getting more pain medicine, and the doc said a side effect can be feeling loopy, so we should keep a record in a shared notebook of when he takes his pills so we can monitor his dosage.”
It’s kind of embarrassing to have Daehyeon discuss all this with everyone as though Yongha were not also in the room, but he appreciates the lengths he is going to. Even if he feels like a heavy responsibility on his busy bandmates right now.
He tries to recall Seokhwa’s words. That it’s not his fault he got injured. It’s hard not to blame his current circumstances on carelessness or clumsy, shoddy footwork, however. He knows rationally that they all fall down at times. It doesn’t represent a lack of skill or focus. But it’s harder to forgive his own screwups than it is others, especially when the consequences are so drastic.
Drowning in negative thoughts, however, proves impossible in the face of everyone’s intense care. Because it soon becomes open season for them all to baby him. Even more than usual.
.
..
…
“Let me get you another pillow,” Junseo says without prompting. It is his turn to babysit, and he takes on his role as though it were his divine purpose. He fetches a pillow from his own bed, fluffs it, and sets it down by Yongha to use as he sees fit.
Yongha stares back incredulously, before quirking an eyebrow. “What, you aren’t going to fan me?”
“Are you hot, hyung? Hold on, I can go find the electric fan. I’m sure it’s in the closet somewhere-”
Yongha laughs despite himself. “I’m joking. You’re already doing too much.”
“I could never be doing too much,” Junseo pouts. “Not when you’re in pain.”
He sounds so earnest that Yongha forgets his snarky reply.
A similar feeling overtakes him later when Junseo hands him his medicine. “Take it with this,” he says, before grabbing a water bottle and screwing the cap loose for him. As though it were Yongha’s hands that didn’t work. What might be patronizing to someone else just feels supremely caring to Yongha. “How are you doing?”
Yongha smiles. Junseo asks after him all the time. His concern shines through so visibly that Yongha feels like the one who should comfort Junseo instead of the other way around. “Better with you here,” he tells him truthfully. The corny statement has the desired effect, as Junseo blushes and looks away, effectively brightening the somber mood.
.
..
…
It’s Donghan on the next shift, and his touch is decidedly less gentle than Junseo’s.
“Hey!” Donghan shouts. The loud yell startles Yongha, who tips forward on his good leg. Donghan sprints forward to steady him with both arms. “What did we say about standing on your own?? Are your ears broken?” he scolds. Anger borne from a place of love. That’s his Donghan-hyung.
“I wanted to use the bathroom.”
“Then use your crutches. We got them for a reason. Or better yet, tell me, and I’ll help you.”
Yongha resolutely glares at the ground. Those damn crutches. They chafe his armpits like hell. And asking for everyone’s assistance every time he needed anything had lost its cute charm and novelty really quick. It’s getting old. He feels less princess-like and more useless with every day that goes by.
Donghan must sense his upset because his tone softens. “There’s no shame in getting help, you know? Our goal when we train is to make ourselves and our bodies stronger. Right now, what’s making your body stronger is resting and not exerting yourself. Think of it as training.”
He does bring him to the restroom then, though he is on the other side of the locked door after helping Yongha to sit. Yongha would have demanded he step out anyway, ‘no shame’ mantra be damned, but Donghan had respected his privacy of his own volition without questioning if Yongha could really manage on his own. For that, Yongha feels very grateful. Something as simple as using the bathroom on his own shouldn’t make him so emotional, but it’s his reality for the time being.
When he’s out and on the couch again, Donghan reminds him, “Those stretches are thrice daily.”
“I know, mom.”
“Daehyeon’s your mom, I don’t claim any child as weird as you,” Donghan says even as he brings out the reference sheet the doctor had printed for them explaining the stretches.
Yongha groans. These stretches always hurt.
Donghan doesn’t roll his eyes once through Yongha’s winces or complaints, only watching over him carefully. When Yongha’s done, Donghan presses his fingers to the tender skin around Yongha’s calves and begins massaging. “This’ll loosen up the muscle,” he explains.
It messes with Yongha’s self-pitying agenda the way that none of his groupmates appear put upon to be assisting him. To the contrary, they seem eager to help.
Donghan is working with such concentration that he misses Yongha’s tiny “thank you.” It’s just as well. He knows Donghan knows of his gratitude anyway.
.
..
…
Seokhwa’s superpower appears to be completely keeping Yongha’s mind off of his accident or his condition.
With the shorter boy keeping him company, alternating between watching shows with him, chatting about any random old thing, or playing games with him, Yongha hardly thinks about his predicament once.
It’s like a sixth sense. Yongha’s brain turns to all the practice he’s missing, when-
“Do you think dogs know how much we love them?”
His mind swerves. Suddenly, this topic engages him fully. He continues the conversation passionately, saying, “Cookie absolutely knows how much you and all of us adore him. We shower him with petting and treats every time we see him!”
“We should take him to the park when the weather cools down a bit.”
“Definitely!”
This happens even when Seokhwa is not physically present. He texts Yongha often during his recovery, everything ranging from <saw the bakery is gonna add strawberry shortcake to the menu> to <look at this parkour video I found>. It works in fighting off the boredom Yongha might otherwise experience while bedridden. His attentiveness never fails to make Yongha’s throat tighten and his heart clench with warmth.
<Seokhwa> Yongha messages him first tonight. Although the clock reads 1:04 AM.
<yeah?>
<Come over, I’m lonely> It’s a silly thing to say while his roommate slumbers feet away from him. And while he’s supposed to be sleeping himself.
But only about twenty seconds later, the door is thrown open, and Seokhwa comes to sit on his bed with him. Yohan rolls over and pries his eyes open at the interruption, but he doesn’t comment or grumble about it and only turns back around.
“Get some sleep,” Seokhwa tells him.
“You weren’t sleeping either.”
“Yeah. It’s like my body knew you were awake and wouldn’t let me fall asleep or something. So go to bed so that I can sleep too.” Seokhwa half-heartedly hits Yongha’s chest.
“Yeah, okay.” Yongha gives in. How can he do anything else in the face of Seokhwa’s commandrequest? “Good night, sleep tight.”
Seokhwa drags a hand over Yongha’s mouth to shut him up. “Hush, no words now. Only sleep.”
Yongha smiles and agrees. Though not without pulling Seokhwa closer to him and ensuring the blanket fully covers them both.
.
..
…
If the rest look after him physically, Daehyeon has placed himself firmly in charge of Yongha’s mental health.
“I’m gonna open your window if that’s okay. A little sunlight can do wonders.”
Yongha nods his approval and lets Daehyeon push aside the curtains and open the window. The sunbeams streaming in perform exactly as advertised. Yongha feels like a flower blooming for the first time, being exposed to sun rays after years caged away in a deep, dark dungeon.
Daehyeon reads Yongha exceedingly well. Yongha would be embarrassed if he didn’t understand Daehyeon just as much. But in this instance, Daehyeon’s mind-reading abilities allow him to get through to a spiraling Yongha.
“You’re not falling behind.”
“Hm?”
“You’re not falling behind, because we would never leave you out. You’re going to be so amazing at the new choreo once you get to take a crack at it. If anything, your hiatus will give us a chance to start getting the moves down so we won’t look bad in comparison after you nail it in a couple days.”
Yongha shoves Daehyeon’s shoulder with his own for the flattering remarks. But Yongha knows Daehyeon is sincere in his faith in him. It’s kind of incredible. If people as astounding as his bandmates trust and value him this much, maybe there’s a reason for it. Maybe he has more to be confident about than he usually will admit to himself.
“Here, I’ll prove it to you. I’m gonna show you a snippet of the dance so you can study up, and I bet you’ll be repeating it back to me flawlessly within five minutes. Arms only, though!” he is quick to add. He sounds particularly strict when he says, “And no practicing on your own. Donghan will back me up.” Which is enough to put the very idea out of Yongha’s mind. Donghan can be quite scary when he wants to be.
Daehyeon demonstrates something with his arms then, where his right arm crosses over his left at the elbow in perpendicular lines. His right arm turns upwards as if miming the hands of a clock. Yongha follows along and imitates the gesture almost unconsciously.
“See! I knew you could do it.” Daehyeon beams at him, and Yongha beams back.
He goes on to show him a few more moves. Any remnants of Yongha’s previous wallowing fade away at the reminder of his passion, what he loves to do, and how he gets to do it with his brothers by his side.
He doesn’t curse out his bad knee or dwell on the past now. Now, he looks forward and imagines rejoining them at the studio.
.
..
…
It’s his same-age friend that he confides in near the end of his recuperation. They face one another on their respective beds the way they often do. The companionship has seen Yongha through bouts of illness, homesickness, loneliness, stress, and much more. It’s also seen Yongha through happier times of celebration, excitement, and contentment.
Now, he strikes up a certain conversation with Yohan.
“Why do you think everyone babies me so much?”
Yohan doesn’t hesitate before simply responding: “You’re cute.”
Yongha can’t exactly argue with that. But it seems Yohan isn’t done, won’t leave it at that.
Then, Yohan continues.
“For me, it’s that you’re so bright. It’s like you bring magic into the room with you, and it’s impossible to deny the unstoppable force of your wide smiles or your jokes. Even when they’re bad. Especially then. You mean so much to the people around you in so many ways, whether you’re helping us with choreography or just always listening to whatever we have to say, whenever we want to say it. People like that are thes ones you cherish. The ones you want to return love to, because they deserve it, and you want to show them everything they show you.”
Yongha is dumbfounded in the face of Yohan’s response. It’s as though he had been thinking that over for a while. Or perhaps it truly is just what instantly jumps to mind when Yohan considers why he pours so much affection into his every interaction with Yongha.
“Wow…”
“Plus, you’re cute. Sorry, but them’s the facts.”
“Yeah, I know,” Yongha says once he finds his voice again.
Now, Yohan diverts the subject. “Dude, I don’t know how you weren’t bawling when your knee was out of place. I would have been.”
“I don’t really know, either. It’s like there wasn’t time to panic, almost? You were all there in an instant, and there’s like this feeling of safety I have when you all surround me. Everyone took charge of the situation so immediately that it’s almost as though freaking out didn’t make sense, even though logically I knew that something was very wrong with my leg.”
Yohan looks touched, but he still says. “I swear I’ll never understand you. I love you guys, but not enough to ignore my freakin’ knee being dislocated.”
Yongha shrugs his shoulders with mock superiority.
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re gonna be back to regular schedules soon.”
“Me too.”
“Just remember to take it easy at first, yeah? I’m sure you already expect we’ll be hovering over you, but if someone catches you so much as creasing your eyebrows, you’ll get thrown straight back into your bedroom under a pile of blankets for another four months.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Yongha smiles and scoots to the edge of his bed. He reaches out his hand into the space between their mattresses, and Yohan stretches his hand out to do the same. They meet in the middle and fist bump.
Yongha wouldn’t trade being their baby for anything else in the world.