Chapter Text
Jihoon doesn’t feel any better when he wakes up.
His face is sticky with tears and sweat and snot, and the skin around his eyes is puffy and tender. According to the clock on his nightstand, he’d somehow managed to sleep for a full eight hours, but he doesn’t feel rested at all.
He wants to stay in bed, reasoning that falling back asleep would surely fix him this time, but the need to pee eventually overrides this idea, and he’s forced to his feet. He uses the bathroom, washes his hands and face, and brushes his teeth, not even attempting to fix his bedhead.
The dorm is empty once again. Probably for the best.
He shuts his bedroom door behind himself and crawls right back under the covers, fumbling around for his phone beneath the pillow. He finds it after a moment, fishing it out to check for messages.
His heart leaps into his throat when he sees one from Soonyoung at 1:41am:
‘hey, sorry it took so long. we had more to work on than i thought :( you mentioned tonkatsu yesterday, is that ok for dinner?’
Then, not a minute later:
‘love you <3’
Jihoon breathes. Scrolls further. New messages starting at 2:28:
‘sorry i missed you :( but you need your rest, so i didn’t want to wake you. perf unit practice tomorrow morning, so if i don’t see you before then, your tonkatsu is in the fridge <3’
And then, predictably:
‘love you sosososo much, jihoonie <3 <3 <3’
It’s now after 9am, and Jihoon has one final message from Soonyoung, timestamped 8:33:
‘practice should end on time!!! ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ be back around 1, text me when you wake up and maybe i’ll pick up more food hehehe’
Jihoon taps in the text box, finger hovering over the keyboard. His mind is blank, dull. He doesn’t know what to say.
‘okay,’ he types.
Good enough. He moves to push the phone back beneath his pillow, but is startled when it starts vibrating.
It’s Soonyoung, of course. Jihoon doesn’t really want to talk to him. He hits the green button anyway.
“Jihoonie!” Soonyoung’s exuberant, slightly breathless voice, “How did you sleep?”
“Fine,” he replies flatly.
A pause, Soonyoung considering something. “I’m really sorry about last night. Are you feeling okay?”
This is Jihoon’s chance to tell the truth. “I’m—” the words get stuck in his throat, “—I’m fine. I just got up.”
“Good,” Soonyoung sounds pleased now. “Are you busy today?”
Jihoon shakes his head, then remembers he has to speak. He’d been planning on heading to the studio, but he’s too exhausted now. “No, I’m staying home.”
“I’ll be back in time for lunch,” Soonyoung says cheerfully, “And then…I’ll make it up to you?”
Jihoon nearly recoils, suddenly unable to think of anything he wants less. He’s tired, and he wants to curl up in bed and be left alone for a month. The urge to say something rude comes out of nowhere, but he manages to bite back the impulse. “Sure,” he manages.
He knows his tone isn’t right. He doesn’t care.
“Okay…” there’s a tinge of hesitancy in Soonyoung’s voice now, like there’s something he wants to ask. But then, clearly thinking better of it, “What do you want to eat?”
Jihoon tries to conjure up the idea of any food at all that wouldn’t turn his stomach. Coming up empty, he replies, “Surprise me.”
“Okay,” Soonyoung agrees, and no doubt he’ll be bringing home jajangmyeon or another of Jihoon’s favorites. “See you in a few hours. I love you.”
“I—yeah,” and with that, Jihoon ends the call.
He hates himself.
Soonyoung is nice—Soonyoung is the best person Jihoon knows. Soonyoung is doing his best to make Jihoon happy, but Jihoon can’t bring himself to feel anything but a muted vindictiveness.
He thinks he can just show up with food and everything will be fine.
No.
This is Jihoon’s fault. He has this all wrong. Soonyoung can’t read his mind. Jihoon needs to communicate like an adult if he wants Soonyoung to know how he’s feeling.
…Except he isn’t sure if he does want Soonyoung to know how he’s feeling.
“I—yeah,” he replays in his head. He feels sick to his stomach.
Suddenly, there’s a light knock on the door. “Jihoon-ah?”
Jeonghan’s voice. Jihoon doesn’t particularly want to deal with him, either. “What?” he snaps, immediately ashamed of himself.
“Oh, uh—” Jeonghan sounds taken aback, “Just wanted to let you know that Dokyeom bought a big package of donuts from some kids doing a fundraiser, that’s all. There’s plenty here, if you want some.”
Jihoon can’t form a normal thought. His head feels like it’s full of fog. “Okay,” he eventually manages.
Jeonghan is silent for such a long time that Jihoon jumps when he speaks again. “Jihoon-ah,” and Jihoon already doesn’t like where this is going, “is everything alright?”
He squeezes his eyes shut tight, embarrassed. Maybe if—maybe if he told just one person…
Instead, “Yeah, I—” his voice cracks. He swallows hard, but he can’t keep the wobble out of his words when he tries again, “I—I’m fine, hyung.”
A gentler tone, “Jihoonie, can I come in?”
No. “Yeah.”
Jeonghan does, stepping fully into the room and closing the door before trying to speak. Unable to see from beneath the covers, Jihoon listens to him approach.
“Can I sit?” Jeonghan asks.
Jihoon hates that he’s the source of his hyung’s hesitation. “Yeah,” he says, softer now. He feels Jeonghan do so, though he doesn’t dare peek out from inside his cocoon.
“I won’t force you to tell me anything,” Jeonghan begins, “but can you let me know if you’re okay?”
“I’m not,” Jihoon says flatly, guilt and anger at himself flaring up in his chest.
“Right,” Jeonghan confirms. “Will you tell me about it?”
“I…” Jihoon feels detached, almost lightheaded, “…I don’t know.” Struggling for words, he tries to explain, “I’m tired. I’m so tired. My head feels weird and fuzzy, and I’m…sad?” it’s almost like he’s guessing, “I don’t—I just don’t feel normal.”
“Did something upset you?”
Jihoon thinks for a long moment. “I’ve been kind of stressed, so Soonyoung and I…” he can’t elaborate. Won’t.
“Okay,” Jeonghan doesn’t push further. “And was it alright? You don’t have to tell me the details, but did anything happen then?”
Jihoon shakes his head. “It was fine, it was—yeah. Neither of us had anything to discuss afterward, really. We had to, um,” he clears his throat, “kind of…the soft stuff, afterward—”
“Aftercare?” Jeonghan clarifies.
Jihoon is finding all of this extremely embarrassing. He knows the members know, and he knows plenty of their intimate secrets, too, but he never actually discusses it with anyone. “Yeah, uh. We couldn’t…we didn’t get to do it, really, since Soonyoung forgot about his choreography meeting, so he had to leave.”
It sounds kind of bad, when he puts it that way.
“It was fine, though,” he quickly adds, “he didn’t—I just slept, and he said he’d make it up to me later. I told him it was fine.”
He hears Jeonghan let out a breath.
“Really, hyung, I felt fine—I felt great, honestly. I mean, a little disappointed, but…”
It sounds really bad now. Then it hits him all at once.
“Oh.”
He gets the idea that Jeonghan already knows. “You got it?”
“It’s…subdrop.” The word feels awkward in his mouth.
“You’re ticking all the boxes,” Jeonghan says, reaching across the bed to rub his back. “You didn’t get to come down at a safe pace, and now your brain chemistry is all out of whack.”
“That’s—” maybe it should make Jihoon feel better, but instead he feels like an idiot for not figuring it out on his own, “—I’m stupid,” is the conclusion he comes to.
“You’re not stupid,” Jeonghan insists.
But he is. He’s been weird and mopey since last night, he’d been awful and dismissive to Soonyoung, and the reason is so obvious, but he had no idea why because he’s stupid.
“Listen, you’re crashing. It’s hard to think when your hormones are all freaked out. You’re not stupid, you just—aw, don’t cry, Jihoon-ah, you’re okay.”
Jihoon hadn’t even realized he was crying in the first place. But now that he’s being honest, “I—I was such an asshole to Soonyoung, he—he’s probably—”
“He’s probably worried about you,” Jeonghan cuts in. “He knows you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him on purpose, come on. Why don’t we call him?”
“No,” Jihoon feels anxious and sick, “no, I can’t. He’s busy, I can’t. I’ll be…I’m fine, hyung, I’m—”
“Can I call him?” Jeonghan asks, “He should really know.”
Jeonghan is right—Jeonghan is the only one thinking clearly in this situation, and Jihoon knows it. “…Okay,” he croaks, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his wrist.
“Thank you,” Jeonghan says sincerely. “Should I do it right here, so you can listen?”
Jihoon shakes his head. He’s so humiliated already, he doesn’t think he could take it.
Jeonghan seems to understand this. “Okay. Just rest, then.”
He exits the room. Jihoon breathes in, out. He’s stressed. He’s tired. He’s too stressed to be tired. He’s too tired to be stressed.
He doesn’t fall asleep.
He doesn’t fall asleep.
He doesn’t fall asleep.
He doesn’t—
He wakes to the sensation of someone sitting beside him, then the sound of a sigh that could only be Soonyoung.
Jihoon is embarrassed, but dragging this out isn’t going to fix anything. “Hi,” he greets, pulling the covers down just far enough to peek out at Soonyoung. “Sorry for, uh…being weird on the phone.”
“It’s okay,” Soonyoung reaches out. Jihoon takes his hand, interlacing their fingers. “How do you feel?”
“Bad.”
“What can I do?” Soonyoung’s other hand is rubbing up and down his side now. It feels good.
“That,” Jihoon inclines his head toward the hand, “or…come here?” he lifts the edge of the blanket, then thinks twice, “You did shower, right?”
“Yeah, while you were sleeping,” Soonyoung promises, sliding into bed beside him.
Jihoon makes himself as small as possible, slotting against Soonyoung as the little spoon, wishing he could shrink down far enough to be completely engulfed by the embrace. Soonyoung, getting the message, pulls the blanket tightly around both of them, throwing a leg over Jihoon’s body for good measure.
“Missed you,” Jihoon mumbles into the pillow, “idiot.”
“Missed you too,” Soonyoung echoes. “I’m really sorry, Jihoon.”
“I said it was fine.”
“I know,” Soonyoung says wistfully, “but it was still a bad idea. Never again. If anything comes up, I’ll fake sick or something. No matter what it is.”
“Irresponsible,” Jihoon chides, “but…deal.” He turns over to bury his face in Soonyoung’ chest, and Soonyoung takes this opportunity to slip a hand beneath Jihoon’s shirt, skin against skin as he rubs his back. Jihoon soaks up the attention like his life depends on it.
They lie there in silence for so long that Jihoon is nearly asleep when Soonyoung asks, “You up for lunch? Or breakfast—whichever?”
Jihoon considers it. He doesn’t feel hungry, but he hasn’t eaten since yesterday, so he should eat. He also has a pounding headache, which he’s certain is at least partially due to dehydration. He relays this information to Soonyoung, who presses a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“I brought jajangmyeon—” of course, “—and your tonkatsu is still in the fridge,” Soonyoung says. “And there are a zillion donuts because Dokyeom can’t say no to little kids.”
Jihoon snorts.
“I can order something else, if you want.”
Jihoon shakes his head. He feels bad for ignoring the food Soonyoung brought, but he kind of wants something sweet. “Can I have a donut?”
“You want tea, too?”
He nods.
“Okay,” Soonyoung agrees. “I have to get up—do you wanna come out to the living room or stay here?”
Jihoon wants to stay right where he is. Given his current state, he assumes following this desire is the wrong choice. “I’ll come.”
He carries his comforter out to the living room, mildly pleased when Soonyoung fusses over getting him tucked in on the sofa. He’s soon presented with a mug of tea and a little plate holding a glazed donut. Just the sight of food makes Jihoon suddenly realize how hungry he actually is, and the donut disappears almost immediately.
Soonyoung somehow manages not to laugh at him. “Want another one?” he offers.
Jihoon nods. He takes his time with this one, sipping his tea in between bites. It still doesn’t last long, but it gives him enough time to muster up the willpower to shake his head when Soonyoung offers him a third. He doesn’t want to upset his empty stomach with a mountain of sugar.
Soonyoung patiently heats up the tonkatsu for him afterward, happy just to get him fed.
When he’s finished eating, Jihoon stretches his arms far above his head with a yawn. How he could possibly still be sleepy is beyond him.
Soonyoung takes note. “Wanna take a nap?” he asks.
Jihoon shakes his head. “I wanna…” he thinks about it, about what he’d been looking forward to the most last night, “…take a bath,” he decides.
“Together?”
Jihoon can’t help but give him his most powerful are you kidding me look. “Yes.”
Ridiculous as the question may have been, the way Soonyoung’s face lights up at the answer makes it worth it.
Slightly more alert now, Jihoon leans against the doorframe of the bathroom to watch Soonyoung set everything up. He steps fully into the room, pulling the door shut behind himself, right as Soonyoung adds a large pour of bubble bath. A few tugs at the hem of Soonyoung's shirt prompt him to turn around, and he graciously leans down far enough for Jihoon to pull it over his head.
“You first,” Jihoon says, nudging him toward the tub. He watches with no small amount of appreciation as Soonyoung slips out of his shorts and steps in. Soonyoung settles slowly into the hot water, then opens his arms in invitation.
Jihoon undresses himself, pointedly ignores Soonyoung’s whistle of approval, and gets into the bath as well. He sits slowly, leaning back against Soonyoung’s chest, and sighs.
“Temperature’s okay?” Soonyoung asks quietly.
Jihoon nods. It’s just on the right side of ‘too hot.’ It feels good. This is exactly what he’d wanted last night. He sinks lower, lower, until he’s submerged up to his chin. He’s sore, and he can’t suppress a groan as Soonyoung presses a thumb into the tight muscle at the base of his neck.
“Does that hurt?” Soonyoung asks, quickly backing off.
Jihoon nods. Half of him wants Soonyoung to continue, while the other half just wants to lie there limply until the bathwater goes cold.
“Can I wash your hair?” Soonyoung requests. “Might help with your headache.”
That sounds amazing, and it’s even more amazing when the smell of strawberry-scented shampoo reaches his nose as Soonyoung uncaps the bottle. Soonyoung cups water over Jihoon’s head, careful to keep it from running into his eyes, then deposits a generous palmful of shampoo into his hair. Working up a lather, Soonyoung begins massaging circles on his scalp, which draws a positively obscene noise from Jihoon’s lips. This is bliss—sincerely, everything Jihoon has ever wanted, right in this moment.
Despite his best effort to consciously enjoy every second, Jihoon dozes off after a few minutes, head lolling against Soonyoung’s chest. True to his word from last night, Soonyoung keeps him from drowning and only wakes him when their fingers are pruney and the bathwater is tepid. Jihoon, drowsy and in no mood to expend unnecessary energy, is more than happy to let Soonyoung towel-dry his hair and pick out his clothes.
Seated side-by-side on Soonyoung’s bed, he drops his head against Soonyoung’s shoulder, feeling something almost like contentedness filling the hollow space in his chest. He feels…not normal, but better.
Although…
“Do I do anything for you?” the words are out of his mouth before he’d even realized he wanted to ask. That lingering doubt from yesterday—he suddenly needs to settle it. He knows the answer he wants to hear, but he needs the truth, and he needs it from Soonyoung directly.
“What do you mean?” Soonyoung questions.
“I mean…” oh, the contented feeling is ebbing like the tide going out, “It’s like…you do everything for me. I just…I’m taking and getting whatever I want, and I don’t give anything…back.” He feels awkward, uncomfortable voicing the feeling.
“No—Jihoonie, how could you think that?” Soonyoung’s expression, when Jihoon looks up, is full of hurt. “You’re my best friend and the love of my life—you know that, right?” The conviction in his voice is so strong that Jihoon can’t help but nod. “And you let me explore parts of myself I didn’t even know I had. You trust me—you’re so—I’m so lucky to have you, you know?”
“Oh,” the tight knot of anxiety in the pit of Jihoon’s stomach loosens, “okay. Good.”
A pause. “Did you really…worry about that?” Soonyoung asks hesitantly.
“Not until last night. I didn’t really—I don’t think it’s true, I just needed to…check.” It sounds strange to Jihoon’s own ears, but he thinks Soonyoung—his best friend, the love of his life—will understand.
Soonyoung lets out a long breath. “You really dropped hard.”
Jihoon nods. There’s no reason to deny it—he had dropped hard, and he had dropped fast.
“Never again,” Soonyoung repeats what he’d said earlier. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m gonna keep reminding you forever.”
“Okay,” Jihoon’s voice comes out in a strained little squeak, and he surprises himself when he has to swallow against a lump in his throat, “Thanks.”
Soonyoung has the nerve to laugh, and Jihoon’s emotions have the nerve to love the sound. The tide of contentedness rolls back in.
“Wanna lie in bed and watch anime?” Soonyoung offers.
That’s a Jihoon activity. A Jihoon-getting-what-he-wants activity. Jihoon could hesitate or feel guilty, but Soonyoung was correct when he’d said that Jihoon trusts him, and Jihoon knows—truly knows—that Soonyoung wouldn’t offer anything he wasn’t willing to give.
Even something as silly as an evening spent watching whatever Jihoon wants.
“Yeah,” he replies, pleased when Soonyoung pulls him into a kiss, unable to avoid a smile of his own when he feels Soonyoung smiling against his lips. Another kiss, then another, deeper…
…
…Okay, but what about anime?
Kiss
Or—actually, maybe this is better?
Kiss
They’ll get to anime in a minute.
Kiss
And, with Soonyoung’s hands sliding down to the small of his back, he thinks—
Kiss
—they’ll probably—
Kiss
—be alright.