Chapter Text
Hongjoong jerked awake, his heart pounding in his chest, his skin crawling with something he couldn’t name. He’d been dreaming… Something had been in his bed. Something had crawled over his fingers. He’d been asleep, he was sure of it, but it’d felt real. Had it been real? He’d heard things in his dreams that had ended up being real, like the others having a conversation or once, a fire alarm. Did touch work the same way? Had something been in his bed?
He ran his trembling hands over his bedsheets, searching. His fingers brushed something and he recoiled, his breath catching in his throat. He fumbled for his phone, and it went crashing to the floor from his nightstand. His breathing picked up as he leaned over the side of his bed, feeling for it desperately in the dark. His fingers smacked the bottom corner of his nightstand and he hissed in pain. There was rustling above him.
“Hongjoong?” Seonghwa mumbled. “‘S everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Hongjoong replied, his voice hoarse and unsteady. “Just dropped my phone.”
“Find it in the morning,” Seonghwa said sleepily. “Go back to bed.”
Hongjoong hummed, his heart still racing in his chest. He waited until Seonghwa’s breaths evened out again before carefully locating his phone and using the screen to illuminate his bed. Nothing but sheets and his pillow. He relaxed slightly, feeling around for anything out of the ordinary one last time before hesitantly reclining back against the mattress. His skin prickled, but nothing touched him. Maybe it had been a dream after all.
He set down his phone and closed his eyes, but adrenaline was still lingering in his veins. Minutes felt like hours as he lay there, his mind racing. His eyelids were heavy, but sleep didn’t come. So it was going to be one of those nights again. Sleep hadn’t been forthcoming as of late. Either he fell asleep just to be woken by dreams, or he lay there for hours until he finally fell into a restless doze. No matter how exhausted he got, there was no relief. Not even when he went to bed early in hope of getting some good sleep before a long day ahead. Those nights were worse than the rest, ironically. Maybe it was the pressure of needing the rest, but he always found himself unable to sleep at all. He was tired of it, and also just plain tired.
Morning greeted him like a friend who was chronically late, or perhaps it was him who was chronically early. Regardless, Hongjoong’s head ached by the time the sun rose, pain radiating from the center of his face outwards. His eyes felt like lead weights in his skull. He pulled back his blankets and got to his feet, exhausted but unwilling to lie there any longer. No one else was awake; it was still early. He made his way to the bathroom, zoning out over the sink for a little while before kicking into gear for his morning routine. When he’d finished applying moisturizer and a layer of concealer to hide his eye bags, he headed for the kitchen. His stomach was turning; he ate a bit of leftover rice, unable to stomach anything more.
“Hyung?”
Hongjoong startled badly, the lid of his rice container clattering to the ground. Yunho picked it up, a bemused smile on his face.
“I’m sorry, I thought you heard me coming.”
“‘S fine.”
Yunho moved over to the sink, washing the lid before returning it to Hongjoong.
“I didn’t hear you get up, have you been in here for long?” Yunho asked him.
Hongjoong shrugged. “Don’t think so.”
Yunho furrowed his brow at that answer, but didn’t press him. Instead, he rustled around, putting his own breakfast together. He came to sit beside Hongjoong, eating in silence. Hongjoong’s head started to droop forward; he tried to lift it back up, but gave up and let it fall against the table with a thunk.
“Hyung?” Yunho said worriedly. “Are you alright?”
“Mhm. Just tired,” Hongjoong replied, swallowing a lump in his throat.
At least his face was hidden now. He let his guard fall, and a couple of tears dripped onto the table. His eyelids slid shut, but even then, sleep didn’t come. Heat balled in his chest and pushed at his throat, begging to erupt. He forced it down with measured breaths, but when a gentle hand made its way to his shoulder, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He burst into tears, sobs shaking his exhausted body in earnest. He felt arms wrap around him; Yunho was saying something, but all Hongjoong could focus on was the pressure behind his eyes and the frustration in his chest. Another pair of hands found him and a new voice joined Yunho’s, sounding fearful. Hongjoong choked on a sob, his fingers tangling in one of their shirts.
“What’s wrong, hyung? Please, talk to us,” Jongho was saying urgently. “Did something happen?”
Hongjoong’s body shook silently for a moment before he tried to speak.
“I… I’m… I’m just so tired,” he managed, before dissolving into even more forceful sobs.
“I’ll go get Seonghwa-hyung,” Jongho murmured, disappearing quickly.
“Hyung…” Yunho began once he was gone, running his fingers through Hongjoong’s messy hair. “Did you stay up all night? You know you shouldn't work so late, we talked about this, remember?”
Hongjoong shook his head, slumping forward with a sudden weight in his chest. Of course they’d think it was his fault. Even if he told the truth, they probably wouldn’t believe him. He was always napping, at least he always had been—how could he have trouble sleeping? Utterly defeated, he hid his face again, his sobs tapering off into sniffles. Hurried footsteps approached them, and a hand rested on the back of his neck.
“Joongie?” Seonghwa said softly. “What’s going on?”
Hongjoong took a deep breath, lifting his head and wiping his nose on his sleeve.
“Nothing,” he said, trying to force the unsteadiness from his voice. “I was being childish. I just need to get more sleep. Don’t worry about it.”
Seonghwa didn’t look any less worried.
“We talked about this last week, Joongie. You can’t keep working all night, it’s just not healthy. Don’t you think you’d feel better if you went to bed earlier and got more sleep?”
Hongjoong nodded jerkily.
“Do you promise you’ll go to bed early tonight, hyung?” Yunho pressed.
“Sure,” Hongjoong said, his voice cracking a little.
“I’ll make sure you keep that promise,” said Seonghwa, nudging him gently. “Now go get ready, we’ll have to leave soon for our schedules.”
Hongjoong willed himself to stand, leaning on the table for a moment before slowly heading for the hall. He swallowed hard and tried to return Yunho’s gentle smile as if he didn’t feel like gravity was pulling him down harder with each step he took. He’d just have to make it through the day.
—
He didn’t make it through the day. Of course he didn’t, because his body didn’t care that losing his balance and falling during practice was a surefire way to get scolded again by his members for something they thought was his own doing, but he really couldn’t control in the least. He let Mingi help him over to the side of the room while Seonghwa apologized to the choreographer hyung — “...so sorry, he’s been staying up late working, we’ve already spoken to him about it, this won’t happen again…” — and San fetched him a water bottle, passing it over silently with a look of reproach. Hongjoong hung his head, trying desperately not to cry as the others returned to their positions and the music began to play.
“At least watch us, hyung, if you can’t dance,” Wooyoung called, the sharpness in his voice piercing Hongjoong’s chest like shards of glass.
Hongjoong forced himself to watch his members dance, guilt pressing down heavily on his shoulders. The choreography ramped up in intensity, and the others barely spared him a glance for the rest of the practice. Sitting down, the air conditioning chilled him to the bone, and he began to shiver as his members finished the session dripping in sweat.
“Can you stand?” Yeosang asked him as they gathered their belongings.
He nodded, keeping a hand on the wall as he pushed himself to his feet. Once Yeosang seemed confident that he wasn’t going to fall again, he hurried to catch up with Wooyoung, leaving Hongjoong to bow deeply in shame to the choreographer and stumble down the hall after them. He sat in the passenger’s seat of the second car, lips pressed together as his dongsaengs chattered in the back. The driver didn’t speak to him beyond formalities, focused on the traffic around them. Despite physically being so close to half of his members, he felt far away, like the distant moon to their lively Earth. He was the last one out of the car, and someone had already begun their shower by the time he made it inside. It sounded like Seonghwa and a couple of the others were on VLive in the living room. He retired to his and Seonghwa’s room without eating or brushing his teeth, curling up beneath his sheets and burying his face in his pillow. He was exhausted, but he didn’t feel sleepy. He didn’t know how much longer he could sustain this.
He laid there for what felt like hours before the door creaked open and Seonghwa entered, humming to himself. The sound quickly stopped; Hongjoong guessed Seonghwa was trying not to wake him. Part of him wanted to tell Seonghwa not to bother—he was still awake and would be for a while—but another part of him, a much uglier one, wanted Seonghwa to waste his energy trying to keep quiet. A wave of guilt crashed through Hongjoong’s mind, and he clenched his jaw so he wouldn’t visibly shudder. There was a faint knock on the door, and it creaked open.
“Is-”
“Shh, he’s sleeping,” Seonghwa hissed quickly.
“Sorry,” Mingi whispered. Then, “He looks stressed, even asleep. Poor hyung.”
Seonghwa made a faint sound of acknowledgement.
“He wasn’t himself earlier,” Mingi said.
“He wasn’t feeling well. Lack of sleep.”
“Yeah, but… I don’t know. I just got the sense there was something more than that.”
“How so?”
“He’s usually more… stubborn? I don’t know, he just seemed… off. Like…”
“Like what?” Seonghwa prompted when Mingi didn’t continue.
“This isn’t exactly right, but… Hopeless, kind of. I don’t know.”
Seonghwa made a sound of consideration.
“I don’t know. I was probably just imagining it,” Mingi said quickly.
“No, you have a point. Something felt off.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Well…” Seonghwa paused. “Now that I’m thinking about it… He doesn’t usually admit to being tired, does he?”
“Not directly,” Mingi said. “Did he say he was tired?”
“In the morning. Jongho-yah said he was really upset, but by the time I got there, he was… Hmm.”
“What is it?”
“I just… I don’t think he’d admit to staying up all night for work to the point of such exhaustion unless he was hiding something else. I think you’re right, Mingi-yah. Something’s wrong.”
“I was afraid of that,” Mingi said, almost inaudibly. “What do we do?”
“We’ll have to talk with him about it. If something else is wrong, he shouldn’t deal with it alone.”
“Poor hyung.”
There was a lull in their hushed conversation.
“Go get some sleep, Mingi-yah. We’ll talk to him in the morning.”
“Goodnight, Seonghwa-hyung.”
Hongjoong just lay there, feigning sleep as Seonghwa quietly got ready for bed and turned out the lights. The bed creaked as Seonghwa climbed up to his bunk; he used the opportunity to roll over into a more comfortable position. Seonghwa inhaled sharply.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” he whispered.
Hongjoong didn’t reply, and he heard an exhale of relief from above him. The mattress squeaked as Seonghwa settled in, then the room fell silent. Soon, Seonghwa’s breaths fell into a steady rhythm and Hongjoong let out a sigh. It was going to be a long night.
—
When he heard Seonghwa begin to awaken the next morning, he’d only managed an hour or two of light dozing, the kind where it was hard to tell if he was really asleep or just adjacent to it. His headache had intensified to a harsh throbbing behind his eyes. He kept them shut, not ready to be assaulted by light. He heard the bed frame creaking as Seonghwa climbed down, then a hand on his shoulder.
“Joongie? It’s time to get up.”
Hongjoong hummed, keeping his eyes shut.
“Joong.”
Hongjoong cracked his eyes open, then quickly shut them again with a groan.
“Joong? Are you feeling okay?” Seonghwa asked, sounding worried.
“Headache,” he rasped.
“I’ll get something for it, stay there.”
There were hurried footsteps receding and then returning, and Hongjoong felt a tap on his lips.
“Open.”
He opened his mouth and Seonghwa dropped a pill inside, followed by a mouthful of water. He swallowed, and a hand stroked his hair.
“What kind of headache is it?”
Hongjoong didn’t reply. Seonghwa would be disappointed if he said it was from exhaustion. He could say it was something else, but he’d feel guilty about lying. They’d worry and give him the day off if he said it was a migraine; this wasn’t as serious. Or, well, the pain wasn’t as bad. He was pretty sure he’d pass out if he stood up, even if it wasn’t strictly from the headache, and the lights still hurt his eyes. Maybe having the day off was better than trying to function and inevitably failing and disappointing everyone like the day before.
“Joongie?”
“Migraine,” he whispered.
He heard Seonghwa gasp and hurry to turn off the lights.
“Do you feel nauseous? How bad is the pain?”
“Not the worst I’ve had,” Hongjoong mumbled. “Not nauseous right now.”
“Do you need anything? Water? Ice? Meds?”
“Not right now.”
“Okay,” Seonghwa said softly. “I’m going to let the managers know. I’ll be back to check on you soon.”
Hongjoong made a faint sound of acknowledgement. Seonghwa’s footsteps retreated and the door clicked shut, leaving the room completely dark. Hongjoong opened his eyes. His head was still pounding, but the darkness made it bearable. He was tempted to reach for his phone, but he knew it was a bad idea. He shut his eyes again. Maybe he’d be able to tolerate light when the pill Seonghwa had given him kicked in.
Seonghwa came to check on him as promised before he and the others had to leave; keeping the lights off and navigating to Hongjoong’s bed by the light of his phone screen.
“You have the day off,” he said. “Don’t worry about things, okay? The managers have it all worked out.”
Hongjoong hummed in acknowledgement.
“Get some good rest. I’m leaving the pain meds here with a glass of water. Make sure you keep track of when you take them, okay?”
“Okay,” Hongjoong rasped. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Sleep well, Joongie. Take care.”
Hongjoong hummed again. There was a pause, then Seonghwa’s footsteps retreated and the door clicked shut. He heard voices in the hall, then in the kitchen for a little while. By the time the apartment finally fell silent, the pill Hongjoong had taken was just starting to kick in. Bored by lying around, Hongjoong fumbled around and pulled out his laptop, setting the screen to minimal brightness. With the addition of a blue light filter, it was tolerable. He pulled up the most recent track he’d been working on and plugged in his headphones. He might as well be productive if he was going to be home alone all day. The beat came alive in his ears, and the rest of the world ceased to exist.