Archive of Our Own ^beta

“No matter how fast light travels, it finds that darkness has always gotten there, first, and is waiting for it.”

                    Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man.

Many years ago … (2022-ish)

It was a harmless game, one of the few ones they played with no cameras following them around. Everyone was gathered for snacks and drinks, laughing and snuggling on someone’s thousand-dollar couch. It was all glorious, the band in their element, with each other and just … enjoying life.

However, underneath the surface, one of their members was unknowingly about to burst open, a phantom and unnamed pain having been shadowing him for several months now. Something had been brewing under his skin since before they debuted … ignored, pushed down, and shut out unconsciously … waiting patiently, ready.

“You don’t think I could survive a natural disaster?” Jisung looked playfully mortified at his hyung, who smugly gazed back, eyes sparkling. Minho had been needling and nudging the younger all night, with a stupidly fond look on his face, and Jisung had been shamelessly eating it up, eyes wide and comical, only to burst into beautiful giggles after a few seconds, not being able to withstand the blatant pining rolling off his hyung. The trivia question from the card game they had splayed out among the eight of them was an obvious excuse for more adorable flirting and teasing.

Chan rolled his eyes and drew another card, ready to take his turn, and in the lull of the game, Hyunjin cackled, a potato chip halfway to his mouth, and his eyes disappearing into his smile.

“Yah! Seungmin-ah will be the one to outlive us all, and you know it!”

While laughter erupted at the seemingly harmless comment, young Kim Seungmin’s world stopped spinning and he sat, glued to his chair, holding his breath.

“You … you can’t …” he breathed, stuttering, but no one heard him over the cacophony.  

The room fuzzed in and out of focus as the dormant storm inside of him rose, claiming control of his mind and heart, clenching hard and suffocating. His breath froze in his chest, and he stared wide-eyed at his family of friends, horrified.

“You can’t say that … please, don’t …” his whispers were drowned in the laughter and buzz of commotion surrounding him in his hyungs’ living room, and panic climbed up his spine, nestling heavily on the nape of his neck.

Hot, miserable tears fell from his eyes and suddenly he couldn’t hear, his ears ringing painfully.

No one seemed to see him flinch away, pain filling his veins like ice, making him want to rip his skin off.

He bent over into his lap, holding his head in his hands, and merely waited for it to pass. 

Now … (2027-ish)

It was raining. In hindsight, an impossible amount of rain, a quite literal figment of ridiculous imagination. But that’s the thing with dreams, isn’t it? No matter how absurd, how illogical things seem, they are still oh, so real … they are still happening without control. Endless tendrils of thought, endless scenarios that have nothing to do with one another, but they still happen. Reason goes out the window.

It was raining. Not hard enough to sting, but enough to flood. Enough for floodwaters to rush and fill Seungmin’s ears with white noise and muffle every other sound. He was in a field, an abandoned cornfield that was now submerged in four feet of rising rainwater.

And he was saving someone.

He didn’t know who just yet, but as he waded through the waters, feet getting stuck in the mud underneath him every few steps, he knew he was looking for someone. Someone was stuck out here, and they were going to drown. He needed to save them. He needed to save them urgently.

The rain kept coming, the sky a dismal, dim grey, and Seungmin blinked away tears mingling with the precipitation. He tried to shout for help, but the sound of the water rushing around his chest stifled the attempt. He felt around with his toes, as if he was merely exploring the ocean and not desperately trying to find his –

His hyung. He was looking for his hyung. He needed to save his hyung. His hyung was going to drown out here if he didn’t find him.

Panic choked him, and he began to look around frantically, searching the top of the waters for any signs of movement, any signs of humanity. Nothing, not even a bubble or an out-of-place ripple caught his eye, and he felt his heart racing in his weak chest.

Time was running out quickly. If it hadn’t already.

Let’s be honest, time was out before Seungmin even began dreaming.

“SEUNGMIN!”

Chan-hyung’s voice barely floated through the sound of the flood and rain, and Seungmin nearly toppled over from the force of how quickly he spun around.

At the other end of the field, Chan’s figure was leaning up against the fence, clinging to it with one hand, and in the other hand was holding up a crumpled body. A small, limp body.

Heart shattering and breath freezing in his chest, Seungmin walked as fast as he humanly could through the rushing waters, sounds ripping from behind his clenched teeth, not even reaching his own ears. He stretched his hands out in front of him, desperate to get there sooner, god, why wasn’t he faster, oh fuck, he’d failed already, he’d fucking failed.

He was too slow, they’d drowned. He failed.

As he neared the fence, Chan’s face was buried in the other person’s shoulder, clutching the form to his chest. When the older boy noticed Seungmin getting closer, his face broke and he turned around, the broken little body in his trembling arms finally becoming recognizable.

Seungmin’s brain stopped working. Even as his tears flowed freely, his heart mourned, and he reached out for the small, soulless thing, he stopped trying to reason. All he could do was feel. All he could do was hold the little body and break into millions of pieces at the stiffness of his limbs, the cold of his skin, the –

Seungmin’s heart stopped. The little body in his arms was not his hyung.

It was Jeongin.

But it was Jeongin when they were little. It was Jeongin as a boy. As a ten, maybe eleven-year-old child … a Jeongin that didn’t even get a chance to be great. A Jeongin that didn’t get a life he deserved, he worked so hard for. A Jeongin that Seungmin was too slow to save.

Screams ripped from Seungmin’s mouth and Chan disappeared. Baby Jeongin was stiff in his arms, his eyes closed peacefully, his skin a light, pale blue. His dark hair stuck to his forehead and Seungmin couldn’t help but press kisses into the boy’s face, hugging his breathless body closer and closer until he couldn’t feel his own body.

     The rain raged on, the fence faded from view. Jeongin went under the water first, still gathered in Seungmin’s arms.

               Seungmin didn’t even register when the floodwaters lapped at his throat, warning him that a similar fate to his dongsaeng awaited him.

                         He didn’t care.

                                    Jeongin was gone.

The nightmares were like clockwork. A metronome.

Every night from 12 am to 2 am, Seungmin would dream, sweat, cry, and wake up with a racing heart, bile rising in his throat, and a horrible, ugly wish in his heart.

They hadn’t been this bad in so long. Five, maybe six years since the last one. Ten years since the one before that.

Now they were back for his blood, it seemed. A single week of six nightmares later … anyone would be begging for help, pleading for respite. Praying for meaning, for answers. Willing to try anything, everything, to get the torture to stop. To finally be able to rest peacefully, deeply.

No one would blame him if he considered selling his soul for a dreamless sleep.

Minho fell from a ladder while working on something, Seungmin couldn’t run across the stage fast enough to save him, and he woke up with his fingers tingling, knowing exactly what it was like to hold someone as they rattled out their last breath, scared tears in their eyes and unspoken words trapped in their broken, dying body. Wishing he didn’t know how it felt.

Chan choked on something he ate, and Seungmin didn’t get to him fast enough to swipe whatever it was from the older boy’s throat, getting there just in time to see his hyung’s eyes roll back in his head, his body twitching its last attempt at saving itself. Seungmin cried the hardest after that one. He didn’t even get to say sorry. Or goodbye.

Hyunjin bashed his head open after crashing their company car, and Seungmin didn’t think to call the ambulance fast enough, trying to selfishly staunch the blood flow himself, frightened words tumbling from both of their mouths. Hyunjin’s last whispers were, “I love you so much, Minnie …” Words he hadn’t heard in nearly a decade, words he’d forgotten the sound of.

Changbin was running across the street to get Seungmin something from the convenience store and was run over by a car. Seungmin tried to move, to run out of the building, race into the road, and help, damn it, but he was frozen, body immovable, staring out the window, watching his hyung struggle to get up and finally fall motionless, chest stuttering as he suffered. Seungmin woke up just as the ambulance arrived, lights dark on the top of the vehicle.

Jisung died in his sleep. No one knew why. Most likely a heart attack, perhaps an aneurysm. Seungmin’s biggest fear, ever since he was a child, was to go to wake someone up, and they not respond, their soul leaving their human form long ago. Being too late to save them. Being the one to find them, and then to admit to not being fast enough, not thinking of checking on them sooner. Being the one to have to tell the others. Mercilessly, Seungmin had woken up before his mind could conjure up that particular torture.

And then, little ten-year-old Yang Jeongin drowned.

Of course, after Jeongin’s, Seungmin’s first reaction after waking up was to curl into his pillow and weep. To shake, mourn, choke, and squirm in pain, helpless pain. A fever had held him in her hands since the first nightmare, and it was back, pulling chills and sweat from his pores relentlessly. He couldn’t see straight. He couldn’t think straight.

He didn’t know how to stop. This one was different from the others, this one was much worse.

So, he let it run through him like lava, ripping tendon from bone and thought from reason.

He deserved it.

However, quickly following, only one thought suddenly paralyzed his mind, a lightning bolt coursing across a black sky, his deduction skills providing him with statistics even in his state, and he stared up at the bedroom ceiling, blinking wide-eyed, tears falling into his ears and muffling his whispered words.

“Felix is next, Felix-hyung is next … oh, God, I can’t … I can’t do this … I can’t …”

Begging for help, praying for reason …

Another hour of panic and pain went by, and Seungmin shakily reached for his phone that lay on the nightstand. He thumbed down his contact list and hovered over one he hadn’t called in … had it been two years? Seungmin didn’t have time to feel shame about that, all he felt was the same need and craving that had ripped his heart open as a teenager many years ago. The same flavor of blinding connection that had once fused eight of them together.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he pressed the green call button, squeezing his eyes shut as he lifted the phone to his ear and prayed for forgiveness.

It wasn’t that Bang Chan wasn’t awake … he was … he just … wasn’t exactly prepared for a phone call at 4:45 in the morning. He’d been in the middle of the last hour of his gym routine, taking a break on a bench in the corner, badly stuck in his head and becoming quite numb, but he wasn’t really thinking about that too hard anyway.

He stared at his cellphone for a hot second, before, with a rush, registering the caller ID and why it was so achingly familiar, the name sending shockwaves through his memory. Dropping his water bottle carelessly to the floor, no doubt denting the poor thing to shit, he scrambled to pick up the buzzing device and answer.

He couldn’t understand many of the warbled, panicked words that fell from Seungmin’s mouth, but he heard the words that mattered the most. Through the hiccups, sobs, and heaving breaths, the younger boy stammered painfully through the receiver.

“Hyung … I’m scared …”

“… getting worse … I can’t …”

“Lixie-hyung … okay? … alright?...”

“… scared … can’t …”

“… help, hyung-ah … h-help me, please …”

Chan leapt up from his seat at the gym, his surroundings forgotten. “Seungmin, breathe, baby. You’re okay … I’m right here. Breathe for hyung, that’s it …”

Seungmin gasped into the receiver, his first full breath since waking up a little while ago. “Hy-hyung, is Lixie-hyung alright? W-Where is he, is h-he hurt?”

Confusion pulsing through the older boy’s body, he didn’t have the heart to remind the boy that he and Felix had split over a month ago. “No, baby, Felix-ie’s just fine, he’s sleeping so peacefully right now. Now, what’s wrong, Minnie?”

He paced the corner of the small studio gym, gaining strange looks from the other people there. He didn’t care; he couldn’t see them anyway.

“Is he … is he b-breathing?”

Chan stopped. “Seungmin. What is this about?”

He heard Seugming stifle a wretched sob. “Why aren’t you answering me?”

Shaking his head, Chan softened his voice, doing what he could to calm the boy nearly eight hundred miles away. “Of course, he’s breathing, baby … I’m watching him right now.” Tears burned his eyes painfully as he guiltlessly lied. “He’s so cute, his chest is going up … and down … inhale … and exhale …”

Yeah, the other gym-goers were definitely giving him weird looks now.

Seungmin audibly calmed down on the phone at Chan’s soothing voice, the racking, panicked sobs turning into hiccups and sniffles, weak sighs, and deeper breaths. Chan himself breathed a quick sigh of relief, flicking his few tears away.

A weak whimper got him to press the phone closer to his ear, as he slowly made his way to his locker, workout effectively finished for the day.

Seungmin whispered, almost to himself, “You … called me baby.”

Chan actually smiled, blushing a little at himself. “Of course I did, silly …” he scoffed playfully, desperate to lighten the air as best he could.

“I ha-haven’t seen you in years, and you still c-call me baby …”

Chan stood up straight, blinking into the row of black lockers, his bag and hoodie in his fist. “You’ll always be my baby, Seungminnie. Even if you’re some high-fluting lawyer in the big city now, you’re still too special to me for words. Hyung promises.”

Silence met him on the other end, as he walked out of the big building and out to his car. Just as he was getting in, he heard rustling and shifting, likely Seungmin shifting positions in bed, or already asleep entirely. Soft, quiet breaths filled his ears when he listened harder, only a few hitches or breaks.

He stayed on the line; some small piece of him firmly forbade himself from hanging up as he peeled out of the parking lot and quickly merged onto the freeway. He was halfway to his apartment when Seungmin groggily murmured, this time actually half asleep, words high-pitched and weepy,

“I’m so sorry, hyung … I tried so hard … I promise …”

Hand clenching hard around the steering wheel, Chan willed his heart to stop pounding in his head. Panic began bubbling in his stomach, rising into his chest and stealing his composure. “Seungmin, what’s going on? Tell hyung … are you hurt? I can come see you, if you want-“

Seungmin interrupted him, likely not even really hearing him in his state, his voice getting scratchy with sleep now, and dangerously weak,

“I couldn’t save him … I was t-too slow, I’m so sorry … he’s j-just a boy … my baby boy …”

Oh, fuck.

Chan drove faster, suddenly envisioning a fresh plane and a three-ish-hour flight in front of him.

“Minnie, what is happening? Who are you talking about? Talk to hyungie …”

He tried not to let his panic bleed into his voice, but something about Seungmin’s words stirred something ugly inside of him, some terrible fear he hadn’t felt in years. An old enemy, old monster he’d shot and killed as a teenager. Or he thought he’d killed.

“He’s gone … I’m so sorry … Jeonginnie is dead, hyung … I can’t d-do this …”

Chan hardened his heart and set his jaw. No, fuck this. He had to compartmentalize or die trying. At one time, when they were kids, it felt like that was the one thing he was good for. Taking care of his kids, staying strong, a pillar for them to lean on, to feel safe with. Channie-hyung. He could be that again. He could, damn it.

Smoothing his voice out, he turned into his apartment’s parking garage, already pulling out his company phone to order a flight.

“Kim Seungmin, you listen to me. Jeongin-ah is just fine, I promise. I’m getting a flight to you, I’ll see you in the morning, yes? Just hang on for a few hours for hyung, okay? Just a few hours. Don’t do anything until I get there … promise me, Minnie … promise hyung that you won’t do anything.”

He was ripping his apartment down and apart finding his overnight bag and carry-on, clutching the phone to his ear, feeling the heat of the battery against his cheek, three minutes of chaos and heavy breathing before the boy on the other line whispered, finally falling back into sleep,

“Promise …”

Chan made three phone calls on the plane, one of them before it had even taken off.

Lee Felix picked up on the second ring, only minorly disgruntled.

“Hyung, I miss you too, but this is a bit ridiculous. What’s going on?”

Chan bit back a swell of bitter grief at the sound of his ex’s morning voice, but was yanked quickly back to the situation at hand.

“I’m so sorry if I’ve woken you up, Lix, but … um, Seungmin-ah just called me, and … well, I’m on a plane right now, to Tokyo, and …”

“Seungmin? Is he alright?”

Chan blinked back tears, the reality of the whole thing crashing down on him suddenly. As he rambled, he merged back and forth between English and Korean, something he only used to do with Felix.

“I don’t … I don’t even know. He was panicking, and I talked him down, I think … um, but he was so worried about you, Felix. Like, he kept asking me if you were okay, and then I told him you were sleeping, because you probably were, it was like four in the morning, but then he asked me if you were breathing, and-“

“Hyung, you’re okay. I’m okay. I’m right here.”

Felix’s voice was low and calm, shooting through Chan’s mind like a prayer, and he snapped his mouth shut, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.

Shame spiking in his gut at how he’d spiraled and rambled so quickly, Chan hung his head. “I know. Um, but can you … I don’t know, can you message him or something? Just something for him to hold onto until I get there? I just don’t know what’s going on, why he thinks you’re hurt, but I just don’t want it to get worse, you know?”

The tears were falling quickly now, but he brushed each and every one away, blinking out at the airport that had begun to shakily roll by underneath him.

Felix’s voice was soft, gentle, and soothing. “Of course, hyung. I’ll keep you posted. Let me know if I should catch a flight, too, okay? It’ll take me a day, but I’ll do it.”

Gasping quietly in relief, Chan nodded, collecting his emotions. “Yes, will do. Thank you so much, Lixie. Hope, uh … I hope you’re doing alright. Again, sorry to bother you.”

Felix chuckled on the other end, a musical sound that pierced Chan’s brain in a way only he could. “I mean … technically it’s Seungminnie who’s bothering me … you’re just the messenger, yeah?”

Chan laughed brokenly, squeezing his eyes shut. “Thanks, honey. I’ll text you when I land.”

“You’d better.”

Yang Jeongin didn’t pick up the first call, the little shit, making Chan want to simply vomit with worry, so he wasn’t necessarily in his best headspace when he texted immediately after hanging up, his fingers shaking so hard he dropped his phone twice.

5:49 am

Me

Jeongin, you asshole.

Pick up the damn phone

Please

I need to know you’re not dead

Or dying

Now, please

Or I will come and kick your ass, I swear

He then dialed again, leaning back in his seat as the plane leapt into the sky, gripping his armrest for dear life as the cabin shook and trembled.

After the seventh or eighth ring, a deep, sleepy voice rasped at him over the line.

“I’m alive. Sleeping, might I add. But alive.”

Overcome immediately with emotions that only ever hit him during middle-of-the-night phone calls, Chan bent over to place his head between his knees, squeezing the tears back and stifling a shout of relief. He must have stayed silent for a long time, for Jeongin cleared his throat and asked,

“What’s going on, hyung? You alright?”

Chan surprised himself at how quickly he kept his voice from cracking, pulling himself back together and answering.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m actually on my way to see Seungmin-ah, I think he’s really struggling right now. Can you do me a favor and just text him, or call him? He seemed to be cut up about something, and he was worried something had happened to you. I’ll be there in a few hours, but until I get there, can you just give him a quick buzz?”

“Sure, yeah, no problem. Are you alright, you sound a little shaken. How, um … like, how bad is it, do you know?”

Chan shook his head, even though his dongsaeng couldn’t see him. “I’m okay, just … worried. I feel bad for not reaching out for so long. I feel bad about a lot of things,” he chuckled self-pityingly, and shook his head again. “No, I’m good. I’ll keep you posted, yeah? Sorry for waking you…”

Jeongin seemed to be thinking hard, for his voice lowered and took on a trepidatiously cautious note. Chan was suddenly reminded of how old the boy was now, their maknae, their baby. How serious, how wise he was now.

”Did he … hyung, did he ever tell you about his nightmares?”

Chan blinked, the floor of the plane dropping out from under him. “Nightmares?”

“Seungmin-hyung used to have really bad nightmares when we were touring. He never told you about them?”

The last phone call he made as soon as the wheels of the plane hit the pavement of the Tokyo airport, split seconds after messaging Felix as he’d promised. He watched the sunrise poke over the tree line, the sliver of golden light breaking through the deep navy of the night as the phone rang softly in his ear.

“What could you possibly want at 7 o’clock in the morning?”

Chan smiled into his sleeve, now damp with two hours’ worth of worried tears and glistening mucus. “It’s good to hear your voice, too, darling.”

“My voice is about to get a lot louder if you don’t give me a good reason behind you waking me up, hyung.”

Chan stood up, making his way to the front of the plane, where the young stewardess was standing with his bag. He nodded politely to her before stepping out onto the ramp that led to the tunnel, taking him to the parking lot where his taxi was waiting.

“Minho, your baby needs you, I’m afraid. How soon can you catch a flight to Tokyo?”

He’d debated through the entire flight whether or not to ask Minho to join him, despite how close they had remained throughout the years since they all disbanded to go have lives and families. He knew, in his logical little brain, that Minho was a busy guy … he had his own company studio now, just like Chan, and worked hard. He had a whole life outside of what they used to be.

But something small and childlike inside his soul looked up at him with brimming eyes and silently begged not to be alone anymore. Children, even neglected inner ones, don’t care about selfishness. In fact, it’s almost the only thing keeping them alive some days. Chan’s inner child often looked to Minho for help, despite how often he refused to think about it.

But … Minho was a busy guy, now.

Chan slumped down in the back seat of the taxi and closed his eyes, bracing his heart for the imminent rejection.

“Give me like … maybe fifteen minutes to pack and wrap things up here, and yeah. Of course. What’s happened; is he hurt?”

Minho’s calm, steady voice filled his ears with chocolate, and Chan hid his silent sigh of relief as he glanced at the GPS on the taxi’s dash in front of him. He had a little less than an hour of a drive before he got to Seungmin’s apartment, and he still had to call a few more people and send a few work emails.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded, once more despite the other caller not being able to see him. Whatever.

“I don’t know yet, he sounded really torn up on the phone. And … Jeongin-ah mentioned something to me about nightmares. So. I’m, uh, I’m like an hour from him, now … so, I’ll text you when I get there?”

Minho sounded like he was holding something back, but he softly agreed.

“Of course. Take care of yourself, too, hyung. I’ll be there soon, yeah? Go snuggle our baby.”

“Thank you, Min. Love you.”

“Love you.”

Day One, 8 am

Chan stepped out of the elevator and found Seungmin’s apartment number quickly, taking a deep breath before pulling out the key. He’d had to bite back nine layers of pain in order to confess to the woman at the desk downstairs just how concerned he was for Seungmin’s mental health, and thanked the heavens that he was listed as one of the secure contacts in the boy’s tenant file so she could trust him with a key.

In the furthest corner of his brain, he wondered if six other names were listed next to his in the file, but time was moving too quickly for him to truly contemplate what that meant.

In the split second it took for him to slide the silver thing through the lock, horrors swam before his eyes. Horrors you only imagine in situations like breaking into your friend’s apartment, worried. Worst-case-scenario horrors. His stomach swooped in ancient fear, and he forced himself to cling to the memory of Seungmin’s voice, stapled to his inner ears since they were kids.

In the three seconds it took Chan to step through the threshold, he imagined seven different ways Seungmin could have killed himself in his apartment, and seven different ways he could have left the country. Sweat broke on his forehead and palms as he entered the dark apartment.

However, none were true, for as soon as he stepped through the door, he knew Seungmin was alive. Standing at the small kitchen sink adjacent to the door, hands limp at his sides and shoulders hung with weeks of sleep deprivation, he stared blankly at Chan.

The younger man was still in his sleep clothes, consisting of a ragged graphic tee and some old plaid sweatpants. His hair was longer, shoulder-length, and unkempt. Several days’ worth of stubble shadowed his chin and mouth, and when he turned to look at Chan, red, hooded eyes and dark circles beneath them became highlighted in the light that shone through the door. A tortured soldier like the ones poets write about.

Seungmin flinched at the light at first, but as soon as he recognized Chan in his apartment, his shoulders sunk lower, and his widened eyes welled with more tears, like he hadn’t really been expecting the older man to actually show up. Soft, hiccupping gasps still ripped through his body gently, as if he’d been crying recently. He likely had.

Chan stared at him for a long moment before shutting the door behind himself resolutely and setting his bags down on the floor. He didn’t force the boy to make eye contact, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Seungmin go through several emotions, relief and desperation among them.

Keeping his movement slow and steady, Chan took the three steps to cross the kitchen and gently turned Seungmin into his arms, rocking him back and forth like a child. He rubbed gentle circles into the boy’s shoulders, and softly set his chin atop his head, closing his eyes and forcing his breathing to even out.

Seungmin’s body felt dreadfully and hopelessly familiar, how he folded into his hyung’s arms.

The younger sighed shakily, hiding his puffy face in Chan’s shoulder, and eventually whined, his voice scratchy and wet,

“I – I – I thought I w-was dreaming …”

As the tears increased, Chan hugged Seungmin closer to his chest, noticing quickly and with a rising alarm how thin and weak the boy’s body felt in his arms. He held on tightly to Chan’s shoulders, but it was as if his knees were about to buckle at any moment as the trembling grew.

Chan hushed him gently and ran his fingers through his greasy, sleepy hair. “It’s alright, my darling, I’m here … hyung’s here now … I’ve got you … you’re safe, yeah? There’s my good boy …”

A terrible, deep keen fell from Seungmin’s chest at those words, his hands shook, and his knees did indeed buckle, sending him leaning into his hyung’s body, clinging in fear of falling.

Without thinking twice, Chan picked him up in his arms and carried him down the hallway towards the bedroom, ignoring the half-eaten bowl of cereal and the coffee grounds that were more scattered on the kitchen counter than actually in the coffee maker. He passed the living room, briefly eyeing the empty take-out containers, while few, that littered the coffee table. Blankets and pillows were strewn across a sofa; a recognizable attempt at better sleep.

The bedroom was small, a queen-sized bed against one wall, some small furniture here and there, and strings of soft lights hanging from the ceiling in place of a big light. The curtains were still drawn tight, the room still asleep.

Chan kicked his shoes off in the doorway and slowly climbed up onto the bed, Seungmin curling up in his lap like a child. As soon as the elder’s back hit the pillows, the boy nestled up against his chest, eyes closed tight, breath stuttering. Chan hushed him quietly, words failing him, and did his best to wrap his body around Seungmin’s, shielding him from the world and whatever alien terror that had been tormenting him.

Within moments, the boy was slowly calming down, his small fists curled into his hyung’s shirt, hair damp with sweat. As his breaths evened out and he was plunged into sleep, Seungmin’s body relaxed against Chan’s.

Staring down at the crumpled little thing in his lap, Chan blinked a single tear away, feeling it rolling down his cheek, and with a mouth full of cotton, was able to breathe, the sound muffled in the careful atmosphere of the bedroom,

“… hyung’s got you, baby …”

Once Seungmin had cried himself into a deep, exhausted sleep, Chan slowly pulled his phone out, swiping to a texting thread he hadn’t used in months, years even. Making sure Seungmin wasn’t copied in the chat, he shakily typed out a message with one thumb, praying under his breath as he did.

8:49 am

Me

Everyone still here? Nobody changed their numbers, yeah?

Within moments, he got six little heart reactions to the message bubble, making him huff a quiet laugh and smile fondly through his damp lashes. He quickly kept typing.

8:51 am

Me

Awesome

I know I called Lix and Innie already, and Minho’s on his way rn, but I’m using the chat so we can all be on the same page, yeah?

And I know this is a lot to ask

But Seungmin-ah needs us

Is there any way you all could come over?

I’m at his place now, if anyone needs the address

He didn’t even have a chance to turn his phone off before the screen slowly filled with responses, making his heart ping with both fondness and painful reminders of just how much he’d missed his boys terribly the last few years. He squeezed Seungmin in his arms as he read the messages, laughing silently at some of them and their exuberance.

8:51 am

Minho

Boarding now, hyung. I’ll be there soon.

8:51 am 

Hyunjin

Absolutely.

My mom wants to send him food, too

Are you alright, hyung?

8:51 am 

Felix

How is he doing?

8:51 am 

Jeongin

Yeah, is he doing any better than earlier?

8:52 am 

Hyunjin

Wait, what happened earlier?

8:52 am 

Jeongin

I’ll call you in a minute, Jinnie-hyung  

8:52 am 

Jisung

I’M SO LOST BUT I WILL ALSO BE THERE SOON

Anything for our Minnie baby

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8:53 am 

Felix

For fuck’s sake, Binnie-hyung, could you not be such an old man right now? Just send a thumbs up emoji like a normal human

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Stifling his laughter, Chan replied.

8:53 am

Me  

I’m okay, Jinnie, just worried. I think it’ll be good for us all to be here for him.

Thank you everyone.

He’s sleeping now, but he’s gone really quiet.

I also think he’s been sick for a long time.

Keep me posted, yeah? Love you all so much

When Seungmin woke up, about an hour later, he didn’t begin crying again. He stayed very still in Chan’s arms and let himself be held for a while before looking up and blinking quietly at his hyung, as if he was trying to re-memorize his face, eyes flickering quietly all over.

Chan, unbothered by the lack of words right away, smoothed his hand through the other boy’s hair and smiled kindly. For the moment, he ignored the burning fever underneath his hand as he grazed over the boy’s face, cupping his cheek gently in his hand.

“Hi, baby …” he whispered, causing Seungmin to unconsciously press closer and a breathy noise to fall from his mouth.

After a while, the boy managed to stutter out, “I … I h-had a dream, h-hyung.” His small voice was raspier than before, as if he’d been shouting for too long, too hard. His eyes glistened up at Chan, and while his face had changed throughout the years, growing and weathering as he aged, his eyes were still the same as they were ten, fifteen years ago.

Nodding, Chan swallowed hard. “I know,” he whispered, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Seungmin’s eyes watered, but he bravely kept the tears at bay. He shook his head and whimpered, “No, but … b-but, they won’t go away … and I n-need h-help …”

“Deep breath, Seungmin-ah,” Chan inhaled deeply, watching the boy in his arms do his best to follow along, his shaking chest rising and falling slowly. He nodded approvingly when he made his way through a breath, and shifted slightly in the bed, pulling the comforter closer, wrapping the boy in a little cocoon within his arms, waiting silently and steadily.

For Kim Seungmin, he would’ve waited forever.

As Seungmin slowly made his way through retelling his dream from the night before, in a whisper, with a slightly dazed look in his eyes, Chan found himself fighting tears as well, and wondering for the first time how on earth he was supposed to handle this by himself. He kept a brave face for Seungmin, nodding and soothing and wiping tears when it got to be too much eventually, not knowing what to do other than care for the bundle in his lap.

When Chan blinked, he could see the rising waters from Seungmin’s dream, he could imagine the pain of holding a broken, soulless body, and he could envision the fear and despair that had filled his dongsaeng’s body, wiping it of strength and confidence, leaving a husk of a boy in its place. In a blink, he was rattled … and Seungmin had been stuck in that blink for hours, locked in a painful sleep.

He was pulled from his thoughts when his phone dinged, and licking his dry lips, blinking his wet eyes, he slowly reached for the device.

It was as if Minho could feel his pain and worry from across the space between them.

10:47 am

Minho

Knock knock

No, take your time, it’s fine, really.

This apartment is tinier than I remember.

You in the bedroom?

I’ll be there in a minute, gotta piss

He awake?

The baby awake?

Lol

Sniffling slightly, Chan smiled down at Seungmin, tucking his phone away. He could hear small sounds coming from the apartment outside the bedroom, signaling Minho’s quiet arrival, and he tried not to sob with relief.

“Baby … it was just a bad dream, yeah?” He whispered, tucking the boy’s long bangs behind his ears. Seungmin nodded automatically, his big eyes blinking slowly as he soaked in the touch like a sponge. Chan nodded back and continued,

“Hyungs will help you, I promise. I’m right here, and … and Minho-hyung is here, too, now, okay? Is that okay?” A quick swoop of fear passed through his body, guilt that he’d gone behind Seungmin’s back, but the look on the younger’s face banished them immediately.

Seungmin looked at Chan as if the man had the universe in his eyes, held the world in his arms … which, in a way, he did. His small mouth hung open and he examined Chan’s eyes for any trace of teasing. A long moment went by, before he whispered, his fingers tightening in the fabric of Chan’s sweatshirt, squeezing tightly,

“Minho-hyung’s … h-here? Now? Where? Hyung?”

“Right here, my baby …” Minho creaked open the bedroom door, his soft voice floating across the small space. He cocked his head to the side and flashed a small smile at them both, his eyes sparkling kindly. Chan sighed in relief when he met the man’s eyes, and they shared a wordless conversation as Seungmin slowly began to sit up, wobbling slightly. With a fragile heart, Chan watched the younger boy’s mouth move silently, echoing the words Minho spoke.

My baby …

Minho looked … older, softer. With a familiar fluffy head of brown hair, slightly messed up from a flight and taxi ride, an oversized green hoodie and blue jeans, and extremely fuzzy cat socks … he carefully padded over to the bed and gently spread his arms, smiling wider when Seungmin reached for him from his spot in Chan’s lap.

Kneeling on the edge of the mattress, Minho enveloped Seungmin’s top half in his arms, leaning slightly into Chan as well, pressing a quick kiss to each of their heads, before whispering fondly,

“Aish, hyung-ie missed both of you, my boys … so much …”

Chan melted into Minho’s side, closing his eyes briefly and settling into the three-way hug. When the other man pulled back from the embrace, gently cupping Seungmin’s face in his hands and studying the incredibly noticeable traces of depression and sleeplessness, he gently stated his typical Minho-Hyung observations point-blank.

“Kim Seungmin. You need to shower and shave.”

11:00 am

While the water whooshed gently from the bathroom as Minho gently helped Seungmin through some much-needed self-care, Chan tidied up the apartment, getting ready for the rest of the boys to arrive, and began thinking about food and drink. As he puttered about, folding blankets and sweeping dust-bunnies out from under couches, he focused on his breathing and whispering calm phrases to himself.

Then, standing up from picking up take-out containers in the living room, he suddenly came face to face with a small fishtank that sat on the top of a bookshelf in the corner. Within the glass bowl sat a decent three or four handfuls of brown pebbles, a small stone castle, and swimming around near the surface of the water was a beautiful red and blue beta fish.

“Well … hello, there.” Chan finished cleaning up the garbage and went to crouch down by the tank, blinking at the fish and smiling incredulously. In the few times Seungmin had spoken to Chan in the last few years, he’d never mentioned a fish. He didn’t have to, of course, but of all the animals, Chan wasn’t expecting a fish.

“I wonder … I wonder what he’s named you, you beautiful little thing.”

Once the living room and bedroom were mostly clean, trash taken out, and the dishwasher was started, Chan began softly rummaging through the pantry cabinets for ingredients to combine in a crockpot for later. He hummed quietly under his breath, familiarizing himself with his brother’s kitchen, and slowly put together a small batch of doenjang-jjigae. He heard the shower turn off quietly soon after he turned the dial to low on the crock, and went to begin the few things that he packed away.

Not knowing how long he needed to stay in Tokyo, Chan packed a few outfits, which he left in a bag in the corner of Seungmin’s bedroom, a bag of toiletries, and his laptop bag which contained everything he needed if he chose to do some work, along with a few books, some snack bars, and a blank notebook.

Once he’d finished putting his shoes by the door and straightening a few things here and there, he pulled his phone out and sat on the sofa, finally allowing himself to breathe a little deeper and slower.

Seungmin’s head felt like cotton candy, melting gently away in the shower and filtering down the drain beneath him. He stared at the tiled shower floor and tried to remember how to breathe, slowly going over everything that had happened that morning and trying to piece them all together, to make sense of it all.

It was hard. He remembered bits of his call with Chan, but when he tried to remember the words he spoke, he came up blank. He remembered waking up alone, tired, and depressed, convincing himself to stay alive for a little while longer and dragging himself out of bed to make breakfast, only to stare as Chan appeared in his doorway like the second coming of Christ.

It went blurry after that, but he knew he slept. Soundly. On Chan’s chest, in his own bed, dreamlessly. A small taste of the sleep he’d been missing for days, his body relaxed immediately in his hyung’s arms, the comfort he’d been craving finally within reach.

He remembered forcing himself to tell Chan about Jeognin’s nightmare, and how it made him want to throw up and rip his skin to ribbons right then and there. The feeling returned slowly, in the shower, and he was thankful for the water running in rivulets down his face, disguising the tears falling from his red, stinging eyes.

“You know you have to actually clean yourself in the shower, right? The soap doesn’t come from the shower head, I don’t think …”

Seungmin gasped quietly at Minho’s gentle teasing, his chest seizing in phantom pains, and he managed to brace himself against the shower wall before he fell. Eyes unseeing, he stared into space and whispered, brokenly,

“Hy-hyung, please …I …”

Minho had been sitting on the closed toilet, scrolling silently on his phone while Seungmin had undressed and gotten into the shower. The noise from the exhaust fan in the ceiling, along with the whirring of the shower water, helped to muffle a lot of the noisy thoughts that circled both men’s heads, and time slowed a little as the younger of the two began to gather his strength and get through the mammoth task that was cleaning himself.

Looking up from his mindless scrolling at the soft whisper, Minho softly called out,

“Yes, Minnie? I’m right here, I won’t leave you … you okay?”

Silence met him for a while and he shut his phone off to stand up, stepping closer to the shower, gnawing his lip gently.

“Please …” Seungmin whispered wetly, again, and Minho was seconds away from swiping the curtain aside and jumping into the shower with him. They were that intimate once, they could do it again.

“Please, what, baby?” he blinked rapidly at the shower curtain in front of his face, hands opening and closing by his hips.

A lightning bolt of heartache rippled through him when he heard Seungmin inhale quickly and whimper, “I … I need he-help, please, I’m so-sorry…”

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t be sorry,” Minho whisked his tee shirt up and off in a swift movement and shed his jeans as well, leaving his boxers on before stepping into the shower, keeping his movements calm and collected, despite the worry that spun through his veins like caffeine.

Seungmin was leaning unsteadily against the wall, the water hitting his shaking shoulders and wetting his hair, making it flutter down along his neck and into his eyes. With one look, Minho knew the boy was mourning something unknown, a fear that had been waiting for him to be alone, defenseless, to pounce on him and take, take, take …

Stepping closer and ducking under the stream, Minho placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, whispering, “Come here,” and turned him into his chest, wrapping him in his arms and absorbing the shaking tears and hiccups.

“It’s alright, hyungs are here …” he murmured, rocking back and forth gently. Seungmin’s naked form clung to his body, not in a sexual, frenzied, needy way … no, like how a child would hold tight to a parent when scared of something, the little arms and chubby legs squeezing and shaking, desperate for safety and security.

Desperate.

Once Seungmin had relaxed a little in Minho’s arms, which took a few minutes of gentle swaying and Minho humming low in his throat, the older boy slowly reached for the shampoo bottle.

It was silent, sacred, the way Minho washed Seungmin’s hair, keeping his face calm and loving, his fingers gentle and sure. Rinsing and conditioning, running his hands through the long, thick locks, and admiring the way Seungmin … let him.

Using a washcloth, Minho swiped soap gently over the boy’s arms, legs, stomach, and back, softly and carefully washing away the horrid weeks, months, years that they had been apart. Washing off the tears, sweat, and restless nights. Watching them swirl around the drain before disappearing forever.

With his careful, soft ministrations, Minho lulled Seungmin into a quiet, submissive state, the boy hanging his head and closing his eyes slowly, his hands steadying himself where they were resting on Minho’s hips.

Once all the suds were washed away, Minho gently tucked Seungmin’s hair out of his eyes and breathed, a soft, special smile lighting up his face,

“Hyung loves you so much, you know?”

Without thinking much, Seungmin nodded slowly, the pained wrinkle between his eyebrows softening out within a few seconds. Nearly asleep on his feet, he listened to his hyung gently shut off the water, still touching Seungmin somehow, a hand on his waist, soft fingers in his hair or on his shoulder, carefully and slowly leading him out of the shower to stand on the mat on the bathroom floor.

Minho wrapped him in a fluffy towel, fingers wringing the droplets of water from his hair, and he cracked his eyes open. His hyung was concentrating on drying him off, ignoring how he himself was covered in water, still, his hair dripping into his face and water running slowly down his shoulders and chest.

When he noticed Seungmin watching him, he broke into a cute smile, whispering gently, “Hi, my baby …” and continued to rub him down, the soft touches warming him from the inside out, reminding him how terribly cold he’d been without them.

Minho’s words echoed in his mind like a distant thunderclap, and he watched through fuzzy eyelashes as his hyung dried himself off, shed his soaked boxers, and borrowed a bathrobe before turning to him with a fresh set of comfy clothes.

If the elder noticed the way Seungmin’s lips were moving, silently, breathlessly saying the words back to himself, then he didn’t comment on it, keeping it safe and sound close to his heart.

My baby …

Bones aching and head heavy with the relentless need for sleep, Seungmin let Minho dress him and comb through his hair before getting out the razor kit and shaving his face, carefully and slowly. He trimmed an inch off his hair, as well, for good measure, cleaning him up nicely. While it felt refreshing, yes, to be clean and trim, Seungmin felt strangely exposed this way, without the cover of his long hair and beard, and he cupped his bare cheeks with shaking fingers, looking up slowly to whisper, watching his hyung survey his work,

“Thank you, hyung-ah …” he wasn’t stuttering as badly anymore, he realized with relief.

Minho smiled softly and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Seungmin’s head.

“Of course. Now, I smell soybean stew … you think Channie-hyung’s made us food yet? You want any?”

The thought of food made Seungmin want to curl up in a ball and pass away, so he closed his eyes and shook his head, swallowing the ash that suddenly filled his mouth.

Minho must have sensed his discomfort, for he stepped between the boy’s knees and wrapped him in a hug, hands falling around his face comfortingly, whispering,

“That’s alright, darling … it will be ready for you when you are. There is no rush, hyung’s are here for you, yeah?”

12:03 pm

Changbin

Just landed. ETA maybe a little after 1:30. How is he doing?

12:03 pm

Minho

Got the hairy beast into a shower, he’s not good, but we’re getting somewhere.

Channie-hyung made food, I think. He doesn’t want to eat, but it’s early still. He’ll feel better soon, I have a feeling.  

12:05 pm

Felix

Hairy beast? What are you, Belle?

12:05 pm

Minho

Yes.

12:08 pm

Jisung

Let us know if there’s anything we can pick up on the way. Just landed, getting a cab now.

12:10

Hyunjin

As horrible and sad as all of this is, I’m kind of excited to see everyone.

Is that bad? Am I bad for that?

Chan teared up a little at his dongsaeng’s blatant honesty that he was always so good at and quickly typed out a reply.

12:11 pm

Me

No, baby. That means you love us.

And we love you, too.

I am also looking forward to seeing everyone.

So, if that is bad, then we can at least be bad together.

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12:13 pm

Felix

Good God he’s at it again

Muting the chat until he’s done

Chan looked up from his phone and smiled softly when he saw Minho leading Seungmin into the living room, guiding him to sit on the sofa next to the oldest, and sitting down on the other side, the two of them each holding the boy in some way. Seungmin immediately sunk into the touch, laying his head on Chan’s shoulder and closing his eyes.

Minho ran his fingers through the boy’s newly trimmed hair, murmuring softly, “Darling, is … before you sleep, which you can, we want you to rest as much as possible, yeah? But, before you do, is there anything you want to talk about?”

Chan nodded, looking carefully at the boy between them, and how his face twisted in thought, softly nuzzling closer to his hyungs in the process.

Seungmin rubbed his eyes, suddenly looking very much like the seventeen-year-old Chan and Minho first met long, long ago. “I … I just … I don’t get why my stupid brain even comes up with this shit. Like … why? Why do I have to be so scared and sad all the time, now? Why does my head do this to me? I’m … I’m tired.”

The boy leaned back into Chan’s chest and Minho sighed softly, watching the younger snuggle shamelessly, closing his eyes tighter, ignoring the world. He looked up at Chan over Seungmin’s head to find the elder already looking at him, eyes glassy and pleading for help.

“Well …” Minho softly murmured, leaning closer to place a warm hand on Chan’s shoulder and a kiss on Seungmin’s cheek. “We just have to fill it with happy things, now, don’t we?”

“Mmhmm,” Chan agreed, pulling Seungmin further into his arms, and Minho gently covered the two of them with a blanket that was hanging over the arm of the sofa. “And the others are coming over, too, yeah? They’ll be here soon, and then we’ll all be together again, okay? Hyung’s have got you, you’re okay, baby …”

As Seungmin drifted off into a much-needed, peaceful sleep, his little lips moved silently,

My baby …

The rest of them did indeed filter in throughout the following twenty-four hours. Jisung arrived nearly at the same exact time as Changbin, both stumbling up the apartment elevator at the same ding and embracing in the hallway before going inside.

Despite being bundled up in Chan’s arms, warm and safe, Seungmin slept too lightly, sighing softly and tossing throughout the hour. Minho put a soft show on the tv for background noise, and went to unpack, tidying just as Chan did, settling his mind as much as anything else.

The small apartment transformed from a cold, dark, and stuffy place to a soft, quiet cradle of gentle, sleepy peace. Small lights cast each room in golden dust, and combined with the soft music floating from the television and the smell of Chan’s stew in the kitchen, Seungmin’s apartment became a home for all eight of them, quickly and tenderly.

1:45 pm

Which was why, the moment Changbin opened the front door, shouldering his backpack and inhaling deeply, the first things out of his mouth were a relieved gasp and a whispered, “Oh, my God …” followed by Jisung stumbling in behind him, wide eyes sparkling and worried.

Once they’d plunked their baggage near the door and kicked their traveling sneakers off into the growing pile of shoes, the two of them tip-toed their way into the kitchen, hugging Minho one by one, and wandered slowly into the living room, careful not to disturb the beautiful, nurturing atmosphere.

Jisung quietly snuggled up behind Chan on the couch, nuzzling into his shoulder and watching Seungmin sleep a little fitfully in the eldest’s lap, Chan leaning back into him in return. Changbin knelt on the carpet floor in front of the sofa and leaned close to Seungmin, his gentle face wrinkling with lines of concern and love.

Quietly, Chan whispered to him, “How are the kids?”

Changbin didn’t look away from Seungmin, nodding once slowly. “They’re good. School is going well … they’re not little babies anymore.”

After the band lived its days out, Chanbin married his best friend from high school, having two children within the following year and a half. Things got tough soon after, and they ended up divorcing on relatively good terms soon after. Changbin owned a big house in Busan and was producing music from home, dedicating his time and money to making sure the kids had a good childhood, settling into the single father role with ease and happiness.

“You’ll have to bring them next time we get together,” Jisung breathed, smiling quietly from over Chan’s shoulder, and Changbin nodded once more, shifting closer to Seungmin and noticing with worry how the boy twitched and sighed, not fully asleep yet. He nuzzled jerkily closer to Chan’s chest, a soft whimper falling from behind his red, bitten lips.

A tender and concentrated look taking over the young father, Changbin placed a gentle hand on Seungmin’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb soothingly over the fabric of the boy’s shirt, and leaned closer to whisper slowly.

“It’s okay, Seungminnie. We’ll be here when you wake up. You can sleep now, baby. Hyungs are here, now.”

Incredibly, Changbin’s words seemed to comfort Seungmin and the boy relaxed fully into Chan’s chest, his face smooshing adorably as he fell into a deep, healing sleep. Changbin smiled confidently, a gentle quirk of his lips, and both Chan and Jisung looked at him with pride.

They watched the boy sleep for a while longer, whispering gently among the three of them, catching up on work and family.

Minho joined them soon after, passing out glasses of water and small snacks, the four of them content to merely lay together on the sofas while their dongsaeng slept. After an hour or so, Chan’s back began to twinge and he needed the bathroom, thus beginning the careful transition of Seungmin from Chan’s arms into Jisung’s, who happily took his place and snuggled into the blankets and pillows.

As Chan stretched his back and legs and freshened up in the bathroom, he checked his phone, which had been buzzing quietly in his pocket for the past while and a half.

2:12 pm

Jeongin

I got a flight at 7 tonight

How is he?

If you can, someone tell him I love him

2:43 pm

Changbin

I will.

Love you, Innie

Have a safe flight

3:01 pm

Felix

I can’t leave until tomorrow afternoon, I’m so sorry hyung

Gotta wrap things up at the studio

I’ll be there as soon as I can, promise

Keep me posted, yeah?

3:29 pm

Hyunjin

Lixie, don’t stress … hyungs are with him now, it’ll all be alright.

I’ll call you tonight?

Channie-hyung, flight is a little late, I’ll let you know when I’ve landed

3:34 pm

Me

No worries, everyone be safe and I love you all

Seungmin is sleeping, finally

I’m hoping to get some food in him once he wakes up

The rest, we’re just going to be here with him if he needs anything

3:35 pm

Felix

Take care of you, too, hyung.

Chan bit his lip at Felix’s last message, and clicked his phone off, shoving it softly into his pocket. He’d been successful at ignoring the nerves he felt about seeing the other man so soon after their split, and now that he had some peace and quiet and time to himself, they were back with a vengeance. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, blinking and taking deep breaths, desperate for his composure back.

They’d started dating while they were still touring, the relationship staying discrete because nothing really changed. They just started sleeping in the same hotel room, eating at the same table, and when the cameras were off, stood a little closer to one another. It was easy. They made it easy.

It was wonderful, and Chan missed it, damn him. He missed the comfort of coming home to someone, holding hands, the warmth of another body. He missed being known. He missed knowing Felix, inside and out and not in the creepy way.

The break-up was slow and painful, but soft enough to not break any bones or hearts, really. Felix merely quietly requested some time to go home and think about things now that they weren’t busy with the band 24/7. Chan, of course, agreed, ready to give him anything he ever asked for until the end of time. In his heart, though, he knew that it wasn’t a simple break. Felix was going home to Sydney without Chan, and he was going to stay there. Start a new life for himself, by himself. And Chan was stuck in Seoul. Alone.

And four weeks later, Seungmin was calling him at 4 in the morning, and now they were all going to be in the boy’s apartment in Tokyo, in each other’s space and company. Which would be seamless, he knew that, but … different, now.

While he, Changbin, and Jisung kept their lives embedded in music successfully … the others dispersed. Minho took his savings and started a dance studio for children in Seoul, jumpstarting his career as an instructor, and he loved it. Felix did close to the same thing, getting a job as a dance teacher in Sydney, and becoming well-known for his incredible work with autistic children and kids on the spectrum.

Hyunjin decided to take a break from professional music once he got home from the military, and worked double-time in college for a teaching degree, quickly getting a position at an art college in southern Japan, loving his little life, happy and oh, so healthy. He still wrote and put out music, but not the same as when they were kids.

Jeongin was also laying a little lower than the others, taking some time with his family and returning to church for a while. He also continued to sing and drop music every few months, but for the most part, he stayed quiet.

And Kim Seungmin pulled out his law degree soon after they weren’t needed at the company, moving to Tokyo and building a name for himself in the world of court justice.

Before Chan knew it, four years had gone by.

Four. Years.

3:57 pm

Me

I will. Thanks.

Seungmin woke up nonverbal.

Jisung was surprised, but only because it had been so long since it had happened last, and slowly reverted back to how they handled it when they were kids. Lots of cuddling and little to no questions. It would pass on its own. It always did.

He stayed on the couch, watching the younger boy blink out into the living room from where he was nestled in the junction of Jisung’s neck and shoulder, and they quietly sat together, warm and comfortable.

Minho wandered over after a bit, silently holding out a glass of water and a few crackers, to which Seungmin teared up, shook his head, and hid his face in Jisung’s chest. Minho looked worried, crestfallen, but nodded and retreated back to the kitchen.

Eventually, Chan appeared once more, his eyes a little red, and gently, slowly, scooped Seungmin into his arms to carry him to the bedroom where it would be easier to rest, hoping to help him out of his mental rut that sealed his lips shut. Jisung watched the eldest carry the younger down the hall, his arms feeling empty, and sighed softly.

Changbin had gone out to the corner-store for some over-the-counter sleep medication, other random vitamins, and some electrolyte drinks. Minho requested a few ingredients from the grocery store on his way back, as well, which he was happy to fetch.

Jisung found himself itching to do something useful, to get away from his brewing, bubbling mind of thoughts, and his gaze caught on the fishtank across the room.

Carefully, without much deliberation, he carried the large bowl to the kitchen counter and rummaged through the cabinets for cleaner, a net, and a pitcher. He quietly, gently scooped the beta fish out of the bowl and settled it in a container of fresh, room-temperature water, and set about cleaning the glass tank.

When he was elbows-deep in soap suds in the sink, scrubbing the minimal algae from the sides, Minho shuffled into the kitchen behind him, sighing gently.

“Jisung-ah …” the man cooed, coming to lean against the counter to the left of the younger, folding his arms and sweater paws across his chest. “It’s been a long time, yeah?”

His soft voice and tender words made Jisung close his eyes and wince internally.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice catching in his throat as he began rinsing the bowl, washing the suds down the drain. He would have had more words to say, but … it felt wrong, for some reason. Bitterness filled his throat, and he sighed quietly into the sink. Please, not here …

Minho slid a little closer, looking down at the floor, expression slightly unreadable. “Why?”

“Why what, hyung?” Jisung impatiently blew his bangs out of his eyes and finished washing the glass bowl, resting it gently in the dish strainer. He might have placed it in the strainer a little too hard, the crash making him flinch a little.

“Why has it been a long time?” Minho’s voice always used to soften when he spoke to Jisung, but now … now it seemed to wither away, trail off … like he feared Jisung. The older boy was watching the floor like he was paid to, blinking every few seconds like he did when he was thinking hard or trying not to cry. Jisung prayed with everything in him that it was not the latter.

Steeling himself, he dried his hands and stepped closer to his hyung, quickly making sure no one was in sight or earshot, before holding his hands out slowly.

“Can we, um …” he softly cleared his throat when his voice broke, and held his breath when Minho placed his hands in his, the touch making his fingers shake and his spine shiver.

“Can we just get through this first, hyung? I’m worried about Seungminnie, and … and, yeah, we should … talk, but, is that okay? Can we wait a little while?”

The two of them stood in front of the sink, holding hands and staring at the floor, for a long moment before Minho whispered, wetly,

“You’re not mad at me?”

Jisung’s gaze snapped up and he found his hyung looking at him with wet, pleading eyes, and he managed to gasp out, “No, I promise. Not mad. Okay?”

After swallowing hard and blinking his tears back, Minho nodded once, bravely. “Okay.”

5:03 pm

Hyunjin landed a few hours later, arriving with many bags of comforting things, as well as some promised food from home. Minho met him in the hallway when the boy texted that he was in the elevator.

“So …” Hyunjin began speaking softly the moment he stepped through the door as if four years hadn’t passed since the last time the two of them were physically in the same room together, smiling wide and carefully situating himself. “How are we doing?”

They were all doing well, yes, even after all the years, but Hyunjin looked great. The military had been good for him, and ever since then, he’d settled down and really worked hard for the life he wanted. As far as Minho knew, he was living by himself with a few cats and a garden in an apartment a walkable distance from the studio he worked at.

He wore big, round glasses, a beautiful, deep red sweater, and dark blue jeans. His long brown hair was tied in a little bun atop his head, and he smiled so warmly, that Minho almost forgot the means for which they were all gathering. Hyunjin brightened up the room like that wherever he went, it seemed.

Once the boy had set his luggage down by the door and slipped his sneakers off, Minho shook his head fondly and opened his arms, welcoming Hyunjin in his arms and rocking him back and forth like he did when they were kids. God, it had been too long.

“Channie-hyung’s been with him almost all day, they haven’t really moved. I tried to get him to eat or drink something … he’s so dehydrated, but he’s refusing. I was going to give it a few more hours before I start threatening him with a hospital trip.”

Hyunjin pulled back from the hug and flipped his bangs out of his eyes. He nodded and smiled softly, taking a deep breath, eyes sparkling with both worry and hope. “Okay, I’ll … I’ll do my best. Sungie’s here too? I saw his car outside …”

Minho nodded, leading the taller boy down the hall to the quiet bedroom. “Yeah, he and Changbin-ah both got here a little bit ago. Felix-ie and Innie are both on their way, though, still.”

Hyunjin slowly knelt in front of Seungmin, squinting his eyes playfully, like he used to when they were kids. Chan held his breath, nervous for Seungmin’s reaction, but the younger boy merely blinked back at his hyung, perhaps too feverish to really understand yet. Regardless, Hyunjin cupped the boy’s face and sweetly whispered,

“Seungminnie, my Eomma made you some food, and I brought it with me. You think you can have a little soup and rice for me? Please?”

To Minho’s and Chan’s slight shock but eventual thankfulness, Seungmin blinked slowly and nodded, shakily attempting to rise out of Chan’s arms.

A small bowl of onion soup later, Seungmin merged gradually from Chan’s comforting embrace to Hyunjin’s, clinging to the other boy’s neck and ignoring the world, still mute for the most part, aside from sighs and whimpers. Hyunjin climbed up to lay in bed next to Chan, and as Seungmin calmed, the others quietly caught up.

Eventually, Seungmin and Hyunjin fell asleep curled into one another, and Jisung went off in search of Minho, leaving Chan to scroll on his phone by himself in the quiet.

Changbin walked into the bedroom after a bit, running a hand through his dark hair, holding a drugstore paper bag in his hands. He smiled slightly at Chan before going over to the bedside table, where a glass and pitcher of water were already sitting. As the sound machine played soft rain sounds, he pulled out a few different kinds of sleep-aid medication, lining them up on the table. Folding the bag up and tucking it into his hoodie pocket, he shrugged and looked at Chan, whispering,

“We just … I guess, we try them one at a time, and hope one of them works,” he sat on the edge of the bed, watching Seungmin sleeping, eyes still a painful red and his eyelids still twitching in fitful rest. Hyunjin lay underneath him, wrapped protectively around him, sending beautiful, pained pings into Changbin’s heart.

Chan nodded, reaching out to place a hand on Changbin’s knee in thanks for the medicine. “I’m hoping with some more food, too, and maybe, I don’t know, a drive or a walk, he’ll feel a little better.”

The younger musician looked up at him with a heavier gaze. “You’re feeling guilty again.”

Chan blinked. “What?”

“You heard me, hyung.”

“Of course I’m feeling guilty. You’re not? Bin, we left him alone for years. How did I let that happen?”

Changbin slid closer on the bed to hold tight to Chan’s shoulders, keeping his voice small and quiet, but his eyes sharp and intense. “I know. Because you’re an adult with a life. He’s also an adult with a life. Don’t kill yourself, yeah? We’re here now, we’ll figure it out together. We always do.”

Sniffling, Chan nodded, looking down at his hands. He took a long moment to process and agree, and after, he admitted, “I was doing some research. Trying to figure out what to do.”

Changbin nodded. He had also been utilizing Google since arriving at the apartment, but he wasn’t about to interrupt. Chan continued, whispering so as not to wake the younger boys.

“Minnie told me a little bit about his nightmares, and about the ones from the last week. I looked up what it means, like psychologically, and …” He broke off to hang his head and lean into Changbin, whimpering softly.

“I know, hyung, it’s okay … we’re here now, that’s the most important thing. Yeah?” Petting his hyung’s head, he took a deep breath, watching Chan copy him before finishing.

“I also looked up some of the worse symptoms of sleep deprivation, and when to call it and go to the doctor. I think, if we just help him like we have been, then we can help pull him out of this before it gets to that point.”

Day Two, 12:45 am

Yang Jeongin arrived in the middle of the night, and he silently padded into the apartment, setting his bags down and kicking off his shoes. He’d kept Chan and Minho updated on his flight schedule and estimated arrival time, but wasn’t offended or put out that they didn’t meet him at the door, only unlocking it for him. It was fine. They deserved to sleep, too. It was fine, really. 

But nothing stopped him from quietly going to the bathroom to change into non-plane clothes and slipping into his hyung’s bedroom where everyone else had congregated, now sleeping peacefully, and joining them. He ignored the swoop of nostalgia that threatened to overwhelm him. 

Smiling softly at the scene he walked into, the youngest gently laid down on the bed behind Seungmin, who was fast asleep on Chan’s chest, and wrapped his arms around the other boy, nuzzling into the fabric of his sweater and humming softly. He smelled familiar, like home. 

A wave of homesickness rocked through him, muffled in the night. How he’d missed this, the feeling of his hyung in his arms, the feeling of safety. Home. Home.

Seungmin didn’t wake up fully, only sighed and stirred, leaning into the younger’s touch, unconsciously soothing himself with the contact, making Jeongin’s heart ache faintly in his chest.

The youngest fell asleep faster than he had in years.

1:14 am

Seungmin woke up to Changbin singing lightly in his ears, and a soft chest underneath his shoulders, rising and falling with slow breaths. Gentle smells floated through the apartment, coffee, stew, laundry detergent … and there was a slight breeze knocking his bangs across his temple as he stirred. He refused to open his eyes just yet, habit forcing him to hold onto the emptiness of sleep for as long as he could … and merely snuggled closer into the arms that held him.

Jeongin leaned up and pressed a kiss to the top of Seungmin’s head, breathing a handful of beautiful words across his skin, and he shivered slightly.

“… I’m right here, hyung-ie … I’ll be here, every time … I promise …”

2:07 am

Minho woke up to the sound of whimpers coming from the bed. He sat up too quickly in his chair and rubbed his eyes, trying not to fall over, while listening intently for any further sounds or signs of distress from his boys.

When another tearful whine broke through the night air, he reached over and gently smacked Changbin’s shoulder, the man having fallen asleep in the matching dining room chair next to Minho’s. “Changbin,” Minho mumbled, standing up and waking up fully, blinking in the dark.

Changbin immediately startled awake, making a questioning noise, and Minho only whispered,

“It’s Seungmin.”

Jisung drew the short straw for sleeping on the floor, and Minho promptly stepped on him. After crouching down to apologize to the rudely awakened and now gasping boy, Minho stumbled onto the mattress where Jeongin, Chan, Hyunjin, and Seungmin lay, followed by Changbin.

What had started with little whines and whimpers had now stretched into clenched teeth and gasps, Seungmin’s face twisted in pain and his fists clenched in Chan’s shirt with white knuckles, trembling uncontrollably. Chan was doing his best to soothe the boy, hands gently rubbing and patting his hair and whispering soft words, but as soon as Minho knelt on the bed next to him, the elder looked up, terrified and begging. Hyunjin woke up then, scrambling to get off the mattress, making room for Minho and rubbing the sleep swiftly from his eyes.

Minho hovered carefully over the fast-asleep Seungmin and held his breath. Sweat was gathering quickly along the boy’s temples and forehead, and his breathing became too quick and choked, shaking Minho from his consideration.

“Bin, lights,” he snapped quietly, pointing to the small lantern that sat on the bedside table. When Changbin flicked it on, casting the room in a light, childlike purple, Minho straddled Seungmin and cupped the boy’s face in his hands.

“Seungmin,” his voice rang out, full volume, causing Jeongin to wake, finally. The youngest blinked, his eyes widened at the scene unfolding in front of him, and Chan noticed the second he realized he might have slept through the whole reason they were in Japan.

As the eldest reached for Jeongin, Minho bent closer and shook the sleeping, struggling boy.

“Kim Seungmin, wake up, darling …” he spoke, not as sharply this time, trying not to see the tears filling underneath the boy’s eyelashes. As he leaned closer, getting his arms under the boy’s shoulders, his stomach grazed against Seungmin’s, and he froze.

Now, yes, throwing up is gross. But, it’s like anything else, in that some people, it doesn’t bother. Minho was one of them, so when he felt the telltale rumblings and twitchings of a catastrophically nervous stomach, he calmly leaned up and murmured, looking straight into Jisung’s eyes, the younger having migrated to the bedside at the first noises,

“Sungie, hi baby, I need a garbage can right now.”

As the other boy dashed to find the item, Minho scooched backward, sitting Seungmin up and supporting him with one hand while the other swiped his forehead, feeling the heat pulsing off it.

“Seungminnie, hyung’s not kidding, I need you to wake up now, okay?”

The sleeping boy’s arms grasped blindly for Minho, and he slowly came out of his nightmare, gasping and blinking wildly. He looked around frantically, confused, and once he found Minho, he tried to stop crying, but only succeeded in crying harder. Minho thumbed his tears and shook his head.

“Darling, it’s alright. I’m right here, you’re safe, I promise … take a big breath for hyung, yeah?”

In the dark, Seungmin couldn’t see Chan or Jeongin behind Minho on the bed, and even as Changbin rubbed his shoulders and Hyunjin stood at the edge of the bed ready to hug him if he needed, he still shakily whispered, his face turning pale and fear lighting up his eyes,

“J-Jeongin-ie?”

“I’m right here, hyung-ah!” Jeongin slid forward on his knees and opened his arms for his hyung, not quite knowing how not to wear his heart on his sleeve, yet, even at twenty-six.

Now, just like throwing up is, yes, gross … yes, your best friend-slash-closest-hyung throwing up the moment he sets eyes on you isn’t exactly someone’s perfect picture of a reunion. However, Jeongin wasn’t about to be miffed at this, in fact, his heart pinged only harder, the desire to hold and comfort the older boy only growing stronger.

Jisung swooped back into the bedroom just in time, handing the plastic garbage can to Minho, who stuck it underneath Seungmin’s chin right as he began to heave. Changbin and Hyunjin scurried off in search of tums, a thermometer, some bubbly drink, and anything that would possibly help settle an upset stomach, and Jisung retreated to find a replacement liner for the garbage can.

That left Jeongin, Chan, and Minho to hold Seungmin, rub his back, and reassure him gently that he was alright, everything was fine, and he was safe.

Seungmin cried, when he was finished, letting Jeongin wipe his mouth, and he shrank into himself, his shoulders caving in and his head hanging low, barely able to rasp out, “… I … I’m so s-sorry …”

He choked terribly, and among Chan and Jeongin’s worried murmurs, Minho strongly commanded,

“Minnie. You need to breathe. Now. Good boy.”

Chan whimpered low in his throat as the younger finally heaved through a deep inhale, and Minho grabbed the eldest’s hand, keeping him tethered.

Jeongin gathered Seungmin in his arms, kissing his forehead and humming softly.

“Seungmin-hyung, you don’t need to apologize for anything, yeah? You’re alright, you just had a little nightmare … we’re here, we’re with you … you’re doing so great, you know … do you need anything? You think you can try to sleep a little bit more? I’ll stay with you the whole time, I promise …”

Seungmin leaned against Jeongin’s chest, blinking blankly at Minho, who nodded confidently, despite the strength with which he gripped Chan’s hand, the two eldest men holding onto each other for dear life. The younger hiccupped through a breath and shakily asked, his small voice cutting through the air like an arrow,

“It’s not … it’s not raining, i-is it?”

Confused, Minho and Jeongin knit their eyebrows and were about to ask what that meant, but Chan managed to butt in, his heart beating loudly in his ears and cracking in his chest. 

“No, baby … Innie’s safe inside with you, yeah, see? The rain isn’t here. Everyone is safe. You’re okay. You can go back to sleep, it’s alright.”

Without really thinking about it, Chan leaned up and over, gently grabbing Seungmin’s hand and placing it on the side of Jeognin’s neck, where his sensitive fingertips could feel the younger’s pulse. Jeongin stared at Chan, blinking in confusion and fear, and the elder only nodded, breathing,

“He needs to … to feel how you’re here, with him.”

As Seungmin seemed to be entranced, eyelids growing heavy, at the feeling of Jeongin’s pulse under his fingers, Minho reached forward to feel the boy’s forehead, hand coming back burning hot.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully and sighed. Shifting off the mattress, he whispered, “He’s got another fever, I’m going to get him some Tylenol, I’ll be right back.”

5:40 am

Minho was the one to wake first, as normal, extracting himself peacefully from the pile of limbs, and shuffling to the kitchen to put together what he could for breakfast.

As he started the coffee maker, opened a few blinds, and set out some ingredients, a wave of emotion rocked through him, reminding him of how long it had been since he’d made breakfast for all eight of them … how long it’d been since they’d spent this much time together, all in one place. He winced, guilt flooding his veins, and opened the fridge. Setting his jaw and silencing the bad thoughts, he brought out a bowl of eggs and a jar of kimchi, setting them on the countertop. Seungmin must have gone to the market recently before he'd gotten sick, for the vegetables in the boy’s fridge weren’t expiring or gone by. He pulled out some random onions and carrots, as well as leftover rice and a few sauces.

As he chopped and fried, filling the space with good smells, he heard distinct sounds of waking from the other room, causing him to smile and sink into the nostalgia instead of the shame and regret.

He was here, now, he could do this, now. He could.

Flinging a hand towel gently over his shoulder, Minho put the lid on the pan and turned the burner way down, just hot enough to keep the breakfast warm, and softly walked back down the hall to the bedroom, cracking the door open slightly.

The bedroom was exactly as he’d left it. Jisung was curled up in a ball in the corner, on a bed of spare pillows. Changbin was snoring gently in the chair next to the TV, Hyunjin flopped over the bottom edge of the mattress, arms and legs flung here and there dramatically. Chan and Jeongin sandwiched Seungmin on the bed, arms and legs tucked around him protectively, mouths open slightly in sleep, and hair strewn across the pillowcases.

Minho returned to his still-warm spot behind Chan and nursed a mug of coffee while he waited for the rest of the boys to wake up. He didn’t have to wait long, both Jeongin and Chan stirring shortly after he’d sat down.

Jeongin woke Seungmin up gently, picking him up in his lap and settling back against the pillows, gently running his fingers through his hyung’s hair.

The moment he was fully awake, Seungmin opened his mouth and whispered, eyes flickering between Chan and Minho, who watched him like hawks.

“… F-Felix-hyung?”

Minho nodded, placing a warm hand on Seungmin’s knee. “Yes, baby … Lixie is on his way, I promise. He can’t wait to see you and to hug you so, so tight.”

Chan teared up and he had to leave, pressing a quick kiss to Seungmin’s head, murmuring something to Minho about needing the bathroom and climbing out of bed.

He stumbled into the living room just as a broken sob ripped out of him, and he collided with Changbin soon after that, the younger man’s arms wrapping around him with zero hesitation. Jisung was soon to follow, crossing the apartment at the sounds of his hyung’s pain, and the three of them stood quietly together there in the living room, Chan curling into the both of them and letting himself fall apart.

11:06 pm 

The flight from Sydney to Tokyo was long and ugly, and Felix looked like he’d fought a war by the time he stumbled into Seungmin’s apartment building at almost midnight that second day. With his eyebags and his messy hair, he changed out of his airport clothes and into comfy clothes in the hotel lobby bathroom before making his way up the giant building. He’d managed to text Chan that he’d arrived as he rode the elevator with his baggage, and the man was waiting for him in the hallway outside Seungmin’s door.

Seeing Chan after their quiet, painful break-up the month before was going to do something to his brain, Felix knew that and had prepared for that. He’d been ready to feel the old messes drag their way back up in his head, and he’d been ready to fight the brimming emotions. Despite this being about Seungmin, really, it was still going to be difficult.

However, even though the younger boy’s heart raced at the sight of his hyung standing in the hall, looking cozily rumpled and nearly half-asleep, with red and weepy eyes … there was a surge of emotion at the tip of his tongue, one like nothing he’d ever felt before, even when they were kids, even when they were together. A desire, a need, a throbbing need to be as close as he could to Chan, to comfort and soothe, to wipe tears and kiss fears away … to be there.

Dropping his bags mindlessly in front of the apartment door, Felix wrapped Chan in his arms, not giving the older man a chance to back away, and held on tight.

Chan choked on a teary whine, and Felix hushed him, rubbing his ex’s back and murmuring, low,

“It’s alright, darling … I’m here … you’re alright …”

Weakly, Chan pushed against Felix’s stomach, shaking his head and whispering, “N-no, you sh-shouldn’t have to … I’m, I’m fine, I p-promise …”

“Hush,” Felix squeezed harder, rocking them back and forth, and Chan gave up struggling, sinking into the embrace and lacing his hands behind Felix’s back.

They stood out there for a long minute, until Chan’s tears had dried and Felix’s nerves had settled. The blond felt different, refreshed … and ready, now, to face whatever monster inside that was wrapped around his dongsaeng. Letting go of Chan, he nodded and smiled gently, sadly.

“Ready?”

Inside the apartment it felt like a hospital room after a new baby had been born. The curtains were drawn tight, excluding any possible sign of what time of day or night it was, and the little light that shone in the rooms came from either strands of twinkle lights here and there, or nightlights plugged into the wall at ankle height. Felix’s eyes adjusted to the soft darkness, and he set his bags down just inside the door, smiling when he saw that so did everyone else, the pile of suitcases and travel bags unsurprisingly familiar.

Jisung was in the kitchen, doing his best to load the fancy dishwasher and start it, and looked up with big, wide eyes when Felix murmured his greeting. The rapper grinned and leapt into Felix’s arms, his hands carefully extended out to the sides so as not to cover the two of them in soapy water.

Chan watched them from the doorway and smiled softly. Once the two pulled apart, Felix followed Chan to the living room where Changbin and Hyunjin were talking softly. The two of them stood up immediately to quietly wrap Felix in their arms, and Hyunjin couldn’t help but tease,

“Is this some silly way to get us all under the same roof again, Channie-hyung? Even your break-ups can’t keep us apart, damn it …”

Chan scoffed lightly and swiped at the boy, who ducked, the two of them successfully missing the look flashing across Felix’s face. Changbin noticed and was about to say something, but the blonde boy shook it off and quietly asked, looking slightly nervously between his three hyungs,

“So … do we have a plan? How is he doing?”

Hyunjin immediately softened, his smile fading. “Innie got here last night, and he’s been with him since then, Minnie won’t let him out of his arms. So … in a way, it’s helping him. He’s calmed down a bit with Innie here.”

Chan nodded. “He’s definitely almost ready to talk … I truly think he was waiting for all of us to be here. Hyunjin got him to eat a little yesterday, and Minho helped him with a shower and shave.”

“Okay,” Felix hummed, thoughtfully. “That’s good. Is he … like, sleeping better when he’s not alone? Or has he had a nightmare since you’ve been here?”

This time, Changbin answered, when both Chan and Hyunjin looked down, biting their lips and wincing.

“He did have one last night. Innie helped him through it, though. It was … intense. But, since then, yeah, he’s been napping peacefully with one of us. We were hoping now that you’re here, he’ll calm down completely, and we can figure out how to get him what he needs.”

Felix nodded, blinking slowly, and ran a hand through his hair briefly, pulling it away from his face. He rolled his shoulders and whispered, “Of course.”

When the bedroom door creaked open and Felix slowly came around the corner, dressed in a lovely white hoodie with black sweatpants, and his long, blonde hair down around his shoulders, Minho breathed a sigh of relief and did everything in his power not to shout and wake Seungmin up from where he lay sleeping restlessly in his lap.

The bedside table was littered with medicines, thermometers, miscellaneous snacks, healthy drinks, and phone chargers. Seungmin was propped up against Minho’s chest, a damp washcloth against his forehead, and a pedestal fan was pointed at the two of them, attempting to help banish the younger boy’s pesky fever.

Minho caught Felix’s eyes and managed a slow smile, conveying everything he was feeling in one expression, his personal talent. Felix nodded and shut the door behind him, coming closer to the side of the mattress, a small smile coloring his face in return.

As he climbed up to lay against the pillows next to them, Seungmin stirred slightly, not quite waking up, making small noises in the back of his throat like a child. His fists tightened in the fabric of Minho’s shirt, a habit he’d started now that his hyungs were there, some piece of him still afraid they were going to leave forever.

Making himself a little smaller, Felix melted into the pillows, settling his head on Minho’s shoulder, the older tipping down to kiss the blonde’s temple, and he nuzzled softly into Seungmin’s hair, humming quietly under his breath when the blankets shifted and Seungmin unconsciously scooched closer.

“He’ll be okay, Lixie …” Minho breathed after a few minutes, a soft, reassuring smile on his face as he looked over.

Felix tried to smile back but it was harder than he thought.

The second night, when Seungmin finally fell asleep, nestled under Felix’s shoulder, Chan and Minho both took turns staying awake, in the corner of the bedroom, keeping an eye on him. They talked quietly, gently about things, or scrolled through stupid videos, or read some of Seungmin’s textbooks, determined to be ready the moment Seungmin fell into a nightmare.

Day Three, 3:13 am 

And it happened, of course it did. Not as badly as the night before, but as soon as the boy’s breath started to hitch, not only did Felix stir and begin to comfort him, but Minho and Chan also closed in on him carefully, calmly, ready to help.

He was easier to wake up this time, as well, all it took was a gentle shake from Chan and a few words for him to open his eyes. He was still shaken, his breaths coming too fast, but his eyes were tired and scared.

“I’m, I’m s-sorry, Hyungs, I’m … I’m trying, I promise …” he looked up at Chan specifically, big tears falling from his eyes, and Felix hugged him tighter.

“Baby,” Chan whispered, kneeling down next to the bed and reaching for him, cupping his face tenderly and thumbing his tears away. “Don’t be sorry, yeah? It’s all alright … we’re still here, yeah? We’re all safe … we’re all here with you, and we’ll stay with you for as long as you need us. I promise. Hyung promises.”

Seungmin’s eyes clenched closed, and he pursed his lips, trying desperately to keep the emotions inside. He shook his head and gasped softly, his fever causing him to groan in pain, deep in his throat.

“Darling, what is it? You can tell me,” Chan whispered, leaning forward so their foreheads could touch. Seungmin’s skin was burning up, but the boy managed to grit out, brokenly,

“I don’t … I don’t want to be selfish, but … but I don’t want you to leave. Leave me. Again.”

Before Chan could even look to Minho for help, Felix slid forward and took Seungmin firmly into his arms, tucking the boy's face into his chest and inhaling deeply, the sound of the boy's cries bringing tears to both his hyung's eyes quickly. Felix's deep voice didn't shake, didn't falter, as he slowly began to speak, petting Seungmin's hair and rocking back and forth soothingly. 

"My darling ... we're here, now, yeah? We never should have left for so long, and ... and I don't think we're going anywhere anytime soon, alright? Just breathe, now, breathe with hyungs ... you'll be alright. What a good boy, my baby boy ... that's it." 

Minho silently reached over and squeezed Chan's hand; they both knew Felix was one hundred percent right.

6:09 am 

Hyunjin was out on the balcony, gripping a mug of tea between his cold fingers and staring out into the foggy morning, squinting slightly in the mist. He didn’t move when Changbin slid open the glass door behind him and padded out in his socked feet, coming to stand just to the side of the younger boy.

“Hey,” he whispered, concern pulsing through him gently, like strobing lights. He watched Hyunjin take a shaky breath and blink slowly before replying, his voice barely there in the sacred animosity of the early morning hours,

“I’m so worried, hyung …” he closed his eyes, and a slow tear seeped down his face, breaking Changbin’s heart in slow-motion, silently, terribly.

The older boy nodded and inched his hand toward Hyunjin’s, taking the mug from him and placing it on the balcony banister before gently gathering the boy’s hands in his own, pulling him from his thoughts with the touch.

“I know, jagiya …” he whispered, looking closely up into Hyunjin’s face, studying the small changes and the familiar expanse of his soul staring back at him.

Tears brimmed in Changbin’s eyes by mere proximity to Hyunjin’s emotions, something that had frequently happened to him when they were younger, and he had foolishly forgotten how it had felt. To be so close, and so unreachable.

He leaned a little closer, craning his neck upwards a tad more, and murmured gently, “He’ll be okay, yeah?”

Hyunjin’s eyes flickered open, and a note of irritation colored his voice. “You don’t know t-“

“Hyunjin-ah.”

Changbin swallowed hard and stepped closer, his hands tightening around Hyunjin’s.

“He’ll be okay,” he nodded, watching the younger boy’s face twist and twitch with hesitation, bravery, hope, and desperation.

Hyunjin slowly nodded back, acquiescing, and hung his head.

Trying to lighten the mood, Changbin smiled softly. “The kids ask about you a lot, you know.”

“Do they?” Hyunjin sniffled, a light blush floating across his beautiful cheeks, and he smiled back, a small, wonderful thing.

Changbin nodded. “They miss their Samchon-Hyunjinnie …”

As a swoop of sudden guilt rocked through him, Changbin watched Hyunjin’s smile turn into a weepy grimace, and the younger looked down with glistening eyes and whimpered,

“Don’t … don’t do that to me, hyung … please …”

“I’m sorry,” the apology was instant, as well as the gentle arms that circled Hyunjin’s shoulders, Changbin leaning up and pulling him close to his chest. “I also miss their Samchon-Hyunjinnie, that’s all …”

Hyunjin held onto Changbin’s shoulders, burying his face in the elder’s neck, whispering,

“… I miss their Appa … with everything inside me, I miss him. Every day, I miss him.”

Hyunjin was always better with words, Changbin thought. He always envied the way the boy could paint beautiful colors with letters, phrases, and rhymes. Changbin could build strong and reliable, creative songs, rivaling his Chan-hyung at times in terms of theory and lyricism, but … Hyunjin could capture hearts with his words in ways the rapper never could.

So, all Changbin could muster up was a low croak, "It's alright, you're alright, I've got you ..." and he pressed a chaste kiss to the boy's head, closing his eyes and nearly trembling with the effort it took to stand upright, arms brim-full of his first love. 

3:12 pm 

On the third day, Minho had had enough. He waited until everyone was awake from afternoon resting to gently slap his thighs and announce, his no-nonsense voice echoing softly around the bedroom.

“Alright. Seungmin-ah’s pantry is empty; Changbin-ah, Hyunjin-ah, please take an Uber to the shops and bring us back enough groceries for the rest of the week. If you need my card, ask for it. Chan-hyung, you and Felix-ah need to go to the laundry mat; we all need clean clothes and Minnie-ah needs fresh sheets. Jeonginnie, you stay here with Seungmin-ah, Jisungie, you come with me, we’re going to take a walk to the corner to get more medicine.”

He didn’t wait to see if they obeyed, he knew they would. Walking toward the kitchen to make a mug of coffee to go, he listened to the rest of them get ready to go to their respective errands, Jeongin and Seungmin shuffling silently back to the bedroom to cuddle and watch a show together.

Changbin and Hyunjin left first, both wearing comfortable, warm clothes and headphones, with both Minho’s and Chan’s credit cards within their pockets in case they needed more than expected. Next out the door were Chan and Felix, each with a sizable basket of laundry in their arms, quietly heading down the elevator to their waiting Uber.

After making sure he had his phone, wallet, and shoes on, Minho stood to hold his hand out for Jisung, who was waiting quietly by the door, ready to go and eyes on the floor, sleep still evident in the corners of his eyes when he blinked and yawned.

“Ready, Sungie?”

“Mmhmm.”

The streets of Itabashi-Ku were quiet that morning, the brisk wind cutting most thoughts off before they had a chance to spiral through one’s mind. However, holding Jisung’s hand was a welcome feeling, the warm thrumming up into his arms and shoulders, driving the cold from Minho’s head.

“You’re so full of shit.” Jisung giggled into his scarf, eyes sparkling gently at Minho when the older looked down, and before he could question the accusation, the boy blurted out,

“You sent them off so they could all get their crap figured out, not cause all this stuff just had to get done … I see you, hyung, and you’re full of shit.”

Minho cackled and squeezed Jisung’s hand, fully accepting the truth of the boy’s words. “Ah, you got me,” he sighed.

“It’s okay, they were driving me crazy, too. I just thought it was cute how you ordered them around.”

Humming, Minho steered them in the direction of the corner store. As they walked slowly, enjoying the fresh air and the gentle snowflakes that had begun to fall, he felt his chest begin to contract with anxiety. Had he been wrong to split everyone up? Were the errands going to erupt into chaos? He swallowed hard and tried to take a deep breath, but a chirp sounding from Jiusng’s phone startled him gently out of his panic.

Jisung pulled out the device and stopped walking, jerking Minho to a halt as well. The younger stared at his phone for a long second before looking up at Minho and deadpanning,

“They’re making out already. Good job, Hyung-ie.”

Eyes widening, Minho glanced at his watch. 4 minutes. Jesus.

“That was fast.”

“Like I said. Good Job.”

The words quieted Minho’s heavy heart, and he opened the shop door for Jisung, gently patting the boy’s shoulder as he passed through the threshold. They wordlessly grabbed what they needed; some medicines, vitamin water, and a few light snacks for Seungmin. After wandering the store, Minho paid for their cluster of things, and they walked back.

Instead of heading back to the apartment, they silently walked across the street to the fast-food restaurant, Jisung burying his hands in his coat pocket and huffing his pink cheeks. A cloud of tension had made its home above their heads, and they had been successfully ignoring it so far.

Minho brought over their food, something gooey and saucy, and they sat on a bench under a dripping umbrella, the bag of corner-store purchases tucked safely under Jisung’s seat.

The cloud burst, and around a mouthful of cheesy something, Minho whispered, not trusting his voice anymore, “I shouldn’t have left.”

Jisung looked up, shaking his head and knitting his eyebrows. “Jeongin-ie’s there, though, they’ll be fine, and Chan-hyung will be home soon, so-“

“No, Sungie …” Minho sighed and hung his head. “I shouldn’t have left. You. I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry.”

A soft gasp hit his ears, and he closed his eyes, suddenly not hungry anymore. Even if Jisung never wanted to talk about it again, he had to get that out. He had to make sure he said it. Jisung had to know how much he regretted leaving all those years ago.

He could hear the snow hitting the street behind him, and he bit his lip.

“I forgive you.”

A small hand covered his on his lap and the warmth shot through his body once again, making him lose control over his tears, one slipping out and landing on his lap. Jisung’s whispers filled his chest with … something.

“And I’m so sorry I didn’t follow you. I should have. I should have found you again. I’m sorry.”

Minho squeezed Jisung’s hand. “I still love you.”

“I still love you. I didn’t stop for a moment.”

“Can,” Minho coughed, throat closing up. “Can you let me try again?”

Jisung’s head gently rested on his shoulder, and their coats began to be peppered with the thickly falling snow, greasy take-out food forgotten.

“I can, hyung.”

The car dropped them off at the mall entrance, and it took them a hot minute to find where they needed to go. They picked up a map and decided on three separate markets, an American convenience store, and a coffee shop. Changbin picked them out a little wagon they could take with them to hold the grocery bags while they walked.

“And then, after that, I was like this kind of sucks, so I just built a studio into my living room. It looks nicer than the places I looked at, anyway. I should go into interior design when I retire.”

Changbin smirked. “You’re not the retiring kind, Jinnie, you’re just going to dance and paint until you literally die.”

He avoided a friendly smack to his shoulder as they walked into the first stop on their list, a quiet grocery store with crooked floor tiles and old radio songs playing above them.

Hyunjin smiled and tucked his hair up into a pony underneath his hood. “Whatever, old man.”

They perused the fruit aisle, putting a few random containers into the cart quietly. Hyunjin hummed excitedly when he found fresh peaches. Changbin smiled watching the younger happily put a few in a bag and move on to the vegetables.

He knew the boy was simply making kind conversation. He did.

“Do you cook for the kids, hyung?”

But, something about it made him feel ugly inside. Wrong.

“Why, and what’s with your tone?”

Hyunjin held his hands up in defense, one holding tight to a container of mushrooms. “Calm down. I was just curious. We’re in a store. I’m thinking of food. I’m with you. I’m thinking of your kids.”

“You think I can’t cook for them?” Changbin folded his arms haughtily. Ugly. Ugly. Wrong.

“Hyung, what is this?” Hyunjin pursed his lips and quietly grabbed a random bundle of herbs before walking back over to the cart. He looked closely at Changbin, likely picking up the terrible, terrible feelings pulsing through the older man’s eyes.

Changbin didn’t answer, merely glaring silently at his dongsaeng, trying desperately to think himself out of this situation.

A gentle hand rested on his elbow, and it made him nauseous. He opened his mouth slowly and breathed, “Yes, I cook for them. Sometimes. Sometimes I have to work late. Too often.”

When Hyunjin merely nodded gently, he added, hanging his head. “I’m sorry I lashed out. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Yeah, fuck you.”

Changbin looked up sharply to see Hyunjin smiling softly down at him. He huffed a laugh before leading them over to the meat coolers.

They wandered slowly, calculating prices and cuts of beef, chicken, and pork, before deciding on a few different kinds and moving on. Changbin sighed gently, softly murmuring,

“I don’t cook for them like you used to, though. You know that. That’s why I got defensive.”

Hyunjin nodded, grabbing a bottle of fish sauce from an endcap and placing it between the fruit and veggies in the cart. “I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said.”

“Well, tell me about something else, because I can’t stop feeling badly. Come on.”

Hyunjin smiled brilliantly, and began walking to the end of the store, Changbin following with the cart like a puppy.

“I got commissioned again. For the summertime, right after my class graduates.”  

“That’s amazing!” Changbin blurted, happiness coursing through him, quickly replacing the guilt. “Where is it?”

Hyunjin had paid for the groceries, and they’d exited the shop, heading through the courtyard to the next market.

“It’s actually, uh …” Hyunjin looked down at his feet as they continued down the walkway. “It’s right around the corner from your place, the kids’ museum? So … we might be neighbors for a little while, I’m gonna have to find a small apartment somewhere over there.”

He chuckled, not looking at Changbin, who scoffed exaggeratedly.

“Neighbors? Please. Did you know that I have three guest bedrooms? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Hyunjin looked genuinely confused, knitting his eyebrows, and his voice pitched up in question. “What do your guest rooms have to do with my commission in Busan?”

Stopping abruptly, Changbin grabbed the younger’s hands, shaking his head and frowning. “Hyunjin. You don’t need an apartment. Just stay with me.”  

“Hyung. That’s … I … you have a whole life, I can’t …”

Changbin whispered, “Stop.”

Hyunjin looked away, panicking silently. They’d been dancing around each other like this all week, and he knew they weren’t just talking about him staying for the commission. This was much, much bigger than his art.

“Hyung,” he breathed after a long moment, the older boy’s hands gently circling his wrists and holding him close.

“That’s me, yeah. Hyung.” Changbin smiled, fear still evident in his eyes.

“Hyung, I …”

“I said stop, baby.”

The fear overflowed and Hyunjin couldn’t help but lean forward, resting his forehead on the older man’s shoulder, hiding his tears. Everything in him wanted to scream Go! Go! Go with him, you’re safe with him! Go!

“Please … please, come stay with me?”

Jeongin had to fight tooth and nail against falling asleep by the time they reached their third episode. It was a lovely show, aimed at younger audiences, but Seungmin needed sensory-friendly media, so they landed on a soft animation with a simple storyline.

The younger was gently wrapped around Seungmin, blankets and pillows comfortably arranged around, under, and atop them, and they settled silently into the same little bubble of time. Breathing was easier for Seungmin, Jeongin could tell, when it was just the two of them. Nothing against their hyungs, they’d worked so hard to comfort and help Seungmin … but sometimes, it was better to be alone.

Well, alone with Jeongin, that is. Jeongin was allowed. Jeongin was always allowed.

Half-way through the second episode, Seungmin had slowly rolled over in Jeongin’s arms, eyes drooping, and snuggled face-first into the boy’s chest, sleeping lightly for a few minutes. The tickle of his hyung’s breath kept Jeongin wide awake, watching and admiring the boy as he snoozed, safe in his arms.

His heart ached the longer he lay there, but he ignored it for this long, he could handle a few more hours. Please, just a few more hours.

Seungmin stirred when the third episode began, but instead of turning back over to face the TV, he stayed in Jeongin’s chest, blinking up at him slowly.

Jeongin blinked back, smiling softly. After a long moment, he noticed a tiny flicker flash through the older boy’s eyes, something unsaid, something desperate. Something lovely, and Jeongin wanted to dive inside and make his home.

Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss to Seungmin’s forehead and whispered, “Do you want to talk about it?”

It being the nightmares, not … not the whatever that was simmering silently between them for the last ten, fifteen years. Definitely not that.

Seungmin shook his head as best as he could while laying down and whispered, “I’m okay, I’ll … be okay.”

But a twitch in his eyebrow and the way he looked away made Jeongin bite his lip and softly sigh.  

“Hyung, you don’t have to do that, you don’t have to pretend with me. I … I know more than you know.”

Seungmin looked up wide-eyed, scared, at him, and he was quick to shake his head and soothe, rubbing his thumb gently along the boy’s arm. “Not … nothing crazy. Just, when we were kids. I know how bad it got.”

He lowered his voice and snuggled closer, Seungmin unconsciously humming at the warmth. He calmed with his arms tucked into Jeongin’s chest, and when he was finally able to breathe deeply, Jeongin leaned closer to mouth, breath barely leaving his lips,

“I know that you used to hurt yourself, hyung. And I don’t want that to happen again, yeah?”

Seungmin hid his face behind his hands, his fingers tangling in his bangs, and he turned away from Jeongin, rolling into the pillows that were squished underneath their heads.

“Don’t … don’t look at me when I’m like this,” he choked out. The warmth of Jeongin’s thighs and chest burned into his frame and he suppressed the urge to shy away from that as well.

Jeongin smiled, and immediately whined gently, “Why?”

“Because, because … because I’m the hyung, here …”

Humming low in his throat, Jeongin gently kissed the older boy’s temple, relishing in the soft gasp that filled his ears. “Hush, now. Just let me hold you. Let me … let me be with you.”

His cheeks flushed at the words, and he closed his eyes, knowing they meant so much more in that moment.

To his gentle horror, Seungmin also seemed to know their weight, for he uncovered his eyes, red and damp, and blinked, stunned.

“B-be with me?” he whispered, chest stuttering with emotion.

Taking his soul by the throat, Jeongin gently bit his lip, and murmured, nodding into the pillow,

“If you … if you want me.”

Please, say you want me …

“You … you won’t l-leave me?” Seungmin stared open-mouthed at the younger, who only slid closer, tangling their legs and arms, breathing in the scent of their combined shampoos.

“I’ll stay with you, forever, hyung.”

When the episode ended, Jeongin gently carried Seungmin to the bathroom where they both undressed and stumbled into a warm shower. Seungmin was still a little weak, so Jeongin washed them both before climbing out, getting them into pajamas, and drying their hair.

Seungmin only teared up once, when Jeongin got on his knees in front of him in the bathroom, damp hair falling in his face a tad, and leaning closer, a more serious look on his face the boy had never seen in their lives.

The kiss was soft, more like teeth nibbling and tickling, and they were both half-asleep by the time they pulled back, but something changed between them.

Silently, they walked to the living room to snuggle on the couch, intending on eventually falling asleep.

As they melted into each other, the TV softly humming in the background, Seungmin’s voice floated out into the living room,

“… my beautiful baby boy …”

Felix waited until they were both leaning against the row of washing machines, arms folded and frowns legendary, watching the laundry whirl around in the dryer, to murmur, patience finally lost.

“Just say it, Chris.”

They’d walked to the laundry mat in stony silence, the tension between them brewing uncomfortably for hours at that point. It only got to the unbearable point when Felix could literally hear Chan grinding his teeth in anger, huffing his breaths in frustration.

Chan wasted no time, whipping his head up to glare at Felix, spitting, “Fuck you for leaving.”

He didn’t … really see Felix’s hand come up, but soon he was stumbling two or three paces back, rubbing his eye which was definitely going to bruise. Felix was panting, staring back at him with wide, angry eyes, and managed to blurt back,

“And fuck you for everything else.”

Chan sighed, visibly trying to reign in his anger. “I don’t … I don’t understand, Felix.”

The blond folded his arms, feeling his chest tighten at the weight of the situation.

“I told you. Just … say it, please,” in a moment, the boy’s voice cracked, and he was fighting tears, pleading hysterically, “please, for the love of God, tell me you loved me … that entire time, please … hyung, I … please, please, please …”

Felix was full-on crying now, and Chan was staring open-mouthed, eye throbbing in angry pain, and stomach churning dangerously.

“I loved you, I love you,” he all but shouted as he raced across the space between them to pick Felix up in his arms and kiss him, pressing him back against the washing machine, tasting the beautiful mess that lay on his tongue.

Sighing in heavy, heavy relief, Felix pulled back and settled for just hugging Chan, pulling him as close as they could get, feeling the man’s chest thumping against his, and laying his head on his shoulder. Beneath him, Chan hummed low, satisfied, and they melted together. Felix gently pressed a kiss into the man’s neck.

Smiling through his drying tears, the gremlin part of his brain decided to take his phone out with shaking fingers and, pulling Chan up to kiss him again, snap a picture, making Chan groan in fondness, laughing into the kiss.

Changbin and Hyunjin wrestle the groceries out of the elevator just as Minho and Jisung get out of the one next to them, and they all giggle softly. Minho takes a few bags from Changbin and Jisung wordlessly hugs Hyunjin quickly before they all walk down the quiet hallway to Seungmin’s apartment.

When they stumble through the door, they see Felix sitting on the floor, face red and flushed not just from the cold as he unties his boots, and Chan sitting down behind him on the bench, with a stunning black eye … and Minho cannot hold back his wicked cackle.

He nudges Jisung’s arm and murmurs softly, “It worked.”

Changbin, having set the groceries down on the kitchen table, looks over to them with a finger against his lips, whispering,

“Guys, shush … the babies are sleeping.”

Chan walks into the living room first, holding his breath. Seungmin and Jeongin are snuggled together, skin to skin under a quilt, and Felix is the one to gasp softly and point lovingly.

“Oh, my god, there’s a hickey.”

A gentle, pink love bite is hiding on Seungmin’s neck, mirroring a similar one on Jeongin’s collarbone, and Minho silently punches the air in victory.

Chan sneaks his phone out of his pocket and takes a handful of pictures, intent on saving them forever.

They spent the fourth day rotting in the living room, watching TV and eating Minho’s cooking, keeping Seungmin quiet for one more day in case his fever came back.

Day five, 7:19 am  

Jeongin smiled around his mug of coffee. He shook his head fondly, Hyunjin cackling in the corner as well. Softly, he registered a flush coloring his own cheeks, and he wasn’t even the one in the hot seat.

Leaning up against the kitchen sink behind him, he felt more than heard Seungmin mumble, his voice slightly hoarse from sleep, “In my apartment, guys? Seriously? You got … on my sofa?”

Jeongin stifled a giggle at the horrified note of tired disgust in his closest hyung’s voice, and quickly stood up from the table to put his mug in the sink, his hand finding Seungmin’s hip reflexively.

From the living room across the hall, Chan’s gentle voice called out, “Relax, Min, your designer-blah-blah thousand-dollar couch isn’t covered in Jisung’s orgasm juices.”

Jisung spit out his coffee and squealed, his face reddening furiously. “Hyung! You can’t … what the hell?!?”

Jeongin laughed outright at the look on Minho’s face as the older boy chose the worst moment to walk into the kitchen, blinking and staring horrified at everyone, sleep still evident in his eyes and on his cheeks.

If it wasn’t painfully obvious from the gentle, adorable love bites that peppered Jisung’s neck and shoulders, then it was from the state of the living room sofa, which was practically still warm from the night. Blankets and pillows were cast all over the room, and lovely indents were still fresh in the cushioning.

While his words were annoyed and snooty, Seungmin’s eyes sparkled, and he leaned into Jeongin’s touch.

Day six, 8:03 pm

It was Felix who suggested, softly with a lovely smile on his face, that they all go on a walk together, a fresh blanket of snow covering the streets below them.

Chan immediately leapt up at the idea, already planning the routes they could take to see the prettiest bits of the city, the lights that would be up at this time of year, and the pictures they could take together. Minho and Jisung heartily agreed, and Hyunjin and Changbin were indifferent, ready to go wherever the others wanted.

Quietly, Jeongin squeezed Seungmin’s hand under the table. Seungmin took a deep breath, squeezing back weakly, before smiling and nodding quietly.

It took him a little while, and a little help to get dressed, his body still a little weak from the week’s events. But with Felix’s and Jeongin’s tender hands helping him get into his winter clothes, he was soon ready, excitedly waiting by the door.

Surprisingly, it was Hyunjin and Changbin who had what looked to be the most fun, racing each other across sidewalks, tackling each other to the ground, and starting the most loving snowball fight in the history of snowball fights. Felix and Chan held hands the entire time, not even releasing each other to take out their phones, making Minho take the pictures and send them to the group chat. It was as if they were glued to each other.

Jeongin had thankfully brought a thermos of apple juice, in case Seungmin’s blood sugar dipped, which it did half-way through their walk home. They all took a break, sitting on the sidewalk of a bridge, watching the sunset, as Seungmin sipped, leaning on Jeonign’s shoulder and breathing in the winter air, feeling it hit his lungs like a drug.

He looked up at Jeongin, who was grinning, watching Jisung provoke Minho into tickling him mercilessly, and for a split second … they were all fifteen, sixteen, seventeen again, young fools who only ever wanted to sing and be together.

“Thank you for saving me,” he whispered, but no one heard him over the cacophony. That was okay. He knew they knew already. The world blurred around him as he blinked back tears, and his gaze flickered up to see Jeongin looking down lovingly at him.

Chan and Felix kissed on the bridge when they thought no one was looking.

Minho gave Jisung a ring that he’d kept since their touring days, having been to chicken to give it to him when they were kids. Jisung cried for three hours after saying yes with his whole chest.

Hyunjin drafted his resignment letter for the college on the notes app of his phone, Changbin sitting behind him and playing with his hair. They decided to surprise the kids with Hyunjin’s moving in, planning it for the middle of May, the perfect month.

And Jeongin … Jeongin never really left. After a month or so, he took a single day to fly home, pack up his apartment, and fly back. Seungmin went back to work after his leave was up, and Jeongin got a job online, producing through Chan’s company.

Every night, as they folded into each other’s bodies, Seungmin would drift off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, no longer in desperate, painful need of reason and forgiveness.

“Thank you for saving me,” he would whisper, to which Jeongin would nuzzle into the boy’s body, smiling gently, and whisper back,

“I’m not leaving, baby. I’m here … I’m still breathing. You’re here, and you’re still breathing, too.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”