Work Text:
When I feel lost and it's hard to see
You are the lighthouse that's guiding me
Every second with you, I feel complete
Everything hurts. Every breath, every step, every word. He feels like he’s drowning without the chance of water carrying him back to shore.
When Minho woke up, the room was cold yet impossibly stuffy at the same time, leaving him short of breath and shivering. He had things to do and promises to keep, but the idea of moving his heavy limbs made him want to cry. The sounds of the dorm around him were too loud, the three other occupants of the house shuffling about, opening and closing cupboards, talking in what was an, assumingly, quiet tone. It was so loud.
The only thing enticing him to drag himself up from his bed was the promise of a warm shower, which was impossible as, as soon as he cracked open his bedroom door, Felix was on him like a hawk to its prey.
“The warm water isn’t working,” He pouted, wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist in his usual clingy way. Minho felt the urge to scratch his own skin off with his blunt nail tips. He awkwardly patted Felix’s back until he let go, a barely concealed grimace on his face. He was suffocating.
“Did you contact anyone?” Minho asked, shuffling forward to leave his room so he could make coffee in the kitchen. Felix followed like a lost dog, shaking his head.
“Channie-Hyung said he’d sort it with the company, we’re not allowed to bring people in externally,” he said solemnly. “Oh, there’s no coffee, either.”
Minho gritted his teeth, closing the cupboard with perhaps more force than necessary, and dragged a hand down his face, “No shower and no coffee. Just how I like my mornings to go.”
“Sorry, Hyung, we were meant to replace it before you came back from home, but we just didn’t get the chance.”
“No, it’s fine,” he said. He felt bad for putting the dejected look on Felix’s face, but a mean part of him thought that maybe he deserved it.
The idea of going to practice with clammy skin and no caffeine was a nightmare, so he sucked up to taking a cold shower, hissing in pain every time the icy cold water hit his skin. The pain felt grounding in a messed-up way, it reminded him not to let himself drift off with the fairies.
He finished quickly, only scrubbing the parts of his body that were hygienically necessary, before returning to his room, which still had that same messed up aura about it, and putting on his comfiest practice clothes. He rubbed at his eyes in frustration, noticing the darkness under them and how they were redder than they were white. He covered his hair with a beanie and reconvened with the other dorm members to wait for the car to pick them up. Jeongin and Seungmin looked well-rested and put together, they told him that they’d woken up early and gone to the other dorm to use their shower. Something about that made Minho mad, he just wasn’t sure what it was.
He ignored the trio as they climbed into the car, putting his earphones in so he could brood out of the window instead. He hadn’t charged his phone, so it was nearly dead, meaning he was using its last valuable power to listen to music. He couldn’t bring himself to find enough energy to care. The others seemed unconcerned with his behaviour, their usual chatter filtering through occasionally to the point Minho had to turn his volume all the way up despite the rattling of an oncoming headache behind his eyes.
Upon arrival at the company, they met with some of the others to head to the practice room. It was only Chan and Hyunjin who joined them, as Jisung and Changbin were working on a new song. They were also taking Felix away to record his vocals, so it was just five of them working on the dances. Minho scowled the whole time, tugging his beanie so low that he could barely see in front of him.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, Hyung,” Hyunjin tried to tease but backed off at one glance from Minho. It said not now, and Hyunjin, give him credit where due, always understood the warning looks. However, Felix hadn’t quite mastered that skill yet and tried his very best to get Minho to smile. Luckily, he had a soft spot for the Australian, so he didn’t feel the wrath of the anger burning inside Minho.
When Felix split off from them to go and meet the two producers, they got to practising, Minho barely directed the dances, instead turning the music on and expecting everyone to follow. They got through the dance around three times before it all went to shit. Minho’s mind started playing tricks on him.
“How are you still getting this wrong?” He finally snapped. Unfortunately, this was at Jeongin. “Come in on the offbeat otherwise it throws the whole formation off.”
“I- It’s harder to do when you’re focusing on singing your part beforehand,” Jeongin, bless him, ever the defender. Wrong move.
“Well get used to it, this is trainee stuff. We can’t afford to have you messing this up so close to comeback.”
“That’s quite enough,” Chan warned, stepping between Minho and Jeongin. His warning was not directed at Jeongin. “Snap out of it, Minho. Go and take five.”
Minho rolled his eyes before leaving the practice room to go outside where he sat against the wall, head in his hands. He was there for barely a breath before he heard a camera shutter. He thought about lashing out, destroying his career so he didn’t have to do this anymore. His chest was tight, and his breathing was sparse. He refrained from acting out, finding the willpower to get himself inside before he cursed the paparazzi out. The last thing he needed was his name in the headlines.
He splashed his face with cold water in the bathroom, startled at his reflection in the mirror. He couldn’t remember a time he had felt so different, so disconnected from the world.
When he calmed down slightly, he entered the practice room again where the others were running the dance without him. He slipped into formation seamlessly. He felt the atmosphere change as he stepped back in, everyone stiffening up as he swept his dark eyes over them in the mirror. He felt like shouting at all of them; yet he just wanted to be invisible. He shrunk into himself, performing the steps with sparse enthusiasm. Then Jeongin tripped over seemingly nothing.
“Again?” Minho strained, turning on the younger once more. Jeongin looked close to tears which was unusual for him, but Minho barely could bring himself to care. “What is wrong with you today?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Jeongin shouted, the raise in his voice had the hairs on the back of Minho’s neck standing. If he was in his right mind, he’d apologise. “Seriously, Hyung, we’re all stressed, can’t you see?”
“No, you’re just making excuses,” He raised his voice back, his tight throat catching the ending of his sentence in a vice-like grip. “Leave if you can’t take criticism. Have some respect.” The words weren’t his, they flowed out of a place deep inside of him that he had never had control over. His sane self broke inside as he watched the first tear trail down Jeongin’s face. He wanted to reach out for him, hug him tight and tell him he was doing such a good job.
“You’re scaring him, he was doing just fine until you came back in,” Seungmin glared whilst he wrapped Jeongin in a hug.
“Don’t get involved,” Minho said. He was slipping, his bones felt weak, and the room was closing on him.
“Way to be an older brother, Hyung,” Seungmin spat. He guided Jeongin out of the room. Hyunjin followed them, not before looking at Minho disapprovingly.
Minho felt all the fight leave his body; he just wanted to fly. His chest contracted as the first tears spilled from his eyes. Breathing was impossible. Can’t breathe, can’t breathe. Were the only words in his mind as he fell to the floor, scooting into the furthest corner. He scratched at the skin on his shin, his eyes were burning again. He rubbed them harder than he had before, feeling the pressure down his jaw.
Someone was catching his hands in theirs and talking to him.
“Can’t breathe,” Was all he carried on saying. “I’m going to die.”
“-ot going to die. Breathe, Minho,” He could tell the voice was Chan now. Minho thumped his fists against Chan’s chest weakly. The world was getting blurry. Chan caught his hands again, tighter this time, before he flattened one over his own heart and chest. Minho tried to copy the breathing, his hand curling into Chan’s shirt. Grounding.
He heard the door open and close and mumbled words in between that he couldn’t make out. Chan was still exaggerating his breathing for him, trying to get him to copy. A cool cloth was put against his forehead at some point, it could’ve been minutes or days later, Minho wouldn’t know.
“That’s it,” Chan was encouraging, his thumb rubbing the pulse point on Minho’s wrist. “Keep breathing like that, Min. You’re doing so well.”
Minho felt his heart rate slowing as Chan’s face came properly into focus, the kind eyes of his leader instantly calming him so he could finally take a real breath.
“Channie-Hyung,” Minho whispered. He pulled at Chan’s hand on his chest until he let him hug him. He pushed his nose into the leader’s neck. He could feel himself trembling in Chan’s arms. He was still panicking, but his mind felt safer like this, where he knew Chan would catch him as he fell.
Chan pulled back to rub the tears on Minho’s cheek away. He put the cloth on his forehead back into the cool water that one of the boys must’ve brought in at some point, then put it back on him.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Min? You know you matter more than a silly little dance practice,” Chan murmured, considering the way Minho winced at all the small noises and bright lights.
“Thought I could do it,” He replied, closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall.
They sat for a while longer before the door opened again and everyone came piling back into the room with a swift nod of Chan’s head, only this time joined by Changbin, Felix, and his wonderful Jisung, who was coming towards him on wobbly legs.
“Baby, are you okay?” Was the first thing Jisung said as he crouched beside Chan, instantly taking Minho’s hands so he could work at the soreness where he’d been clenching them tightly. He always knew what to do.
“I’m okay, don’t worry.”
Jisung studied his face, his glassy eyes and blotchy skin, “I’m taking you home, okay? Hyunjin is going to take over the dance practice and Changbin will carry on recording. I’m going to look after you.”
Minho didn’t have it in him to protest, letting Jisung pull his jacket on for him.
“Put these on; it’ll block out the light,” Jisung said handing him some tinted glasses. Minho could cry just from how much he loved him.
He leaned on Jisung most of the way out of the building, the managers taking them to the furthest exit so no one would spot the two idols. Minho leaned his head on Jisung’s shoulder for the whole ride home.
“Wait, Jisungie, cold dorm,” He slurred, every bit of tiredness he had felt seeping back into his body but ten times worse.
“That’s why we’re going to mine, darling,” Jisung reassured gently, kissing the top of Minho’s head, and holding his hand even tighter in his lap.
Jisung helped him out of the car and up the stairs to his dorm, ushering Minho inside. They removed their shoes, jackets and hats before going straight to the bathroom.
“Let’s have a bath. Stay here and I’ll go and grab some clothes,” Jisung offered, sitting Minho on the stool they kept by the sink. He started the bath and left to go to his room; if Minho was deeper in his self-loathing, he might’ve whined.
Jisung returned quickly with a pile of clothes that he put on the heater for later.
“You want to take your clothes off, love?” Jisung prompted, giggling at Minho’s sluggishness. Minho nodded, reaching to tug at his jumper and struggling with it long enough for Jisung to help him with an endeared sigh.
Once they were undressed, they climbed into the bathtub, Jisung sat behind him with Minho’s back to his chest. Minho let himself be held, settled into the warmth of his boyfriend and the water. He felt overwhelmed, but it was a lot easier to breathe with Jisung’s arms around him. Jisung helped him wash his body and massaged his head with nimble fingers as he rubbed shampoo into the neglected locks. It felt like heaven in comparison to the coldness he’d felt that morning.
Minho was falling into a headspace only Jisung helped him achieve when he felt a little fragile and overworked. He was all soft hums and gentle sighs as he enjoyed the massage, pushing back into Jisung’s hands with contentment. He enjoyed it when Jisung looked after him and made him feel loved and appreciated.
Once they were all done and dressed, Jisung held his hand to take him to his room. He closed the curtains to block out the light and turned his fairy lights on, creating a cosy little utopia. He pulled the duvet on his bed back and let Minho under before climbing in behind him and wrapping him up in his arms.
Minho was still restless as he tried to lie still in Jisung’s arms. The sensation of the clothes fabrics rubbing on him were sending him into a frenzy, his breathing getting almost impossible again.
“Hey, hey, baby, what’s wrong?” Jisung murmured, letting go of Minho.
“No,” Minho whined, grabbing Jisung’s hand. “Don’t go.”
“Breathe, my love, breathe with me,” Jisung prompted, sitting them both up where he could draw a square on the back of Minho’s hand to encourage his rhythm. “Are the clothes bothering you?”
Minho nodded, his eyes filling with tears once again.
“That’s okay, let's get them off,” Jisung said, helping Minho remove the offending materials. Once he was bare-chested, Minho breathed a sigh of relief, taking his pants off with a clearer head.
“You, too, please,” he asked softly – the vulnerability in his eyes had Jisung melting at the seams. Jisung made quick work of his own clothes until they were both naked, Minho’s head pressed to Jisung’s chest. Skin-to-skin always helped ground Minho; when all he could feel was the contraction of Jisung’s lungs and the beating of his heart, it made him feel real.
Minho fell asleep like that, bundled against Jisung and feeling safe for the first time that day. Jisung carded his hands through Minho’s hair, humming a made-up tune until he fell asleep, too.
**
When Jisung woke a while later, it was still light outside, but 2 hours had passed. Minho was mumbling into his skin, hips moving against Jisung’s thigh.
“Sweetheart,” Jisung mumbled, stroking the skin of Minho’s waist to rouse him from sleep. “Do you need?”
“Yes, please, Jisungie.”
“Do you want to cum?” Jisung asked gently, reaching for the lube they kept stored in the top draw of Jisung’s bedside table.
“Don’t know if I can, just want you,” Minho replied blearily. He looked at Jisung, his eyes half-lidded and sore.
“Okay, baby.”. He manoeuvred their position until he could get Minho lying on his stomach, legs spread just enough for Jisung to slot his hand between them. He rubbed at the plump swell of Minho’s ass, massaging until he became pliant under his touch, small sighs leaving his lips.
“First one,” Jisung warned, rubbing a lube-slicked finger between his cheeks before pushing against the rim and coaxing the muscle to open, just so he could slip the tip of his finger in. His other hand sat on Minho’s lower back, rubbing his thumb into the skin to keep Minho relaxed. Minho let out little whimpers as Jisung pushed deeper, always so open and eager to let Jisung in.
Jisung didn’t want to tease him today, so he instantly crooked his finger to rub over the spot Minho wanted him. He rubbed over his prostate with care, not wanting to make it painful.
“I love you, sweet boy,” Jisung said, kissing the bottom of Minho’s back where his hand was resting. “Doing so well.”
“Want to see you,” Minho sighed, shuffling to remove Jisung’s finger so he could move on his back.
“There you are, pretty,” Jisung smiled, leaning up to kiss Minho softly, cupping his cheek with his clean hand. Jisung led the kiss, meeting Minho’s tongue with his in a way that was grounding, but not too much. Minho reciprocated eagerly, his noises turning into whines as Jisung reached between his legs again, adding two fingers this time to rub at that spot insistently. Somehow, Minho moved again so he could climb into Jisung’s lap, thighs on either side of his so Jisung could still reach him. He sucked sloppily at Jisung’s neck, mouthing at his pulse point, his arms hanging over his shoulders.
“Jisung, Jisung,” Minho chanted, his words becoming breathy and vulnerable. He was slipping, the only thing he could think of being sparkling doe eyes and honey-toned skin.
Jisung felt as Minho started to slip, tightening his hold on him so he could keep him safe.
They’d first explored this headspace after their debut when Minho started getting overwhelmed and was getting mad at everyone and retreating into himself. Jisung had asked what he could do to make it easier for him and Minho had gotten shy. He’d told Jisung through messy words and with blushing cheeks how he liked to be cared for and how he could slip into a headspace where he didn’t need to think about anything. The best was to do that was through a prostate massage, the feeling so intense that he could let himself go. He didn’t always want to cum, sometimes that was too overwhelming, but he always let Jisung know at that point.
“Stop, stop,” Minho suddenly panicked. Jisung withdrew like he’d been electrocuted. He was about to let go before Minho was gripping him tighter, crying into his neck.
“I’m sorry, talk to me, my sweet boy,” Jisung tried to sound soothing, pushing the panic out of his voice as he carried on holding Minho.
“Was gonna cum, too messy,” Minho said through gasped breaths.
“That’s okay; I’m glad it feels good. Do you want a condom, or a towel?”
“Towel, please.”
Jisung smiled, reaching for one of the towels in his laundry basket, “I used this today, it needs washing anyway, so don’t worry.”
Minho nodded as Jisung helped him lift his body so he could slide it over his own lap where Minho was resting.
“Can I touch you, again, love?”
Minho nodded wordlessly, wiggling his hips.
Jisung was so endeared by his behaviour, holding Minho’s waist so he could hold him steady, “Words, please.”
“Yes, yes please,” Minho whined. Jisung could feel his pout against his neck. He chuckled before adding more lube to his fingers and returning back to his previous task.
It didn’t take long to get Minho back to the edge, his cries were small and delicious into the skin of Jisung’s shoulder.
“Let go for me baby, I’ve got you,” he encouraged, pressing more insistently at the bundle of nerves.
After a few moments, Minho let out a small whine before stilling completely.
“There you go,” Jisung whispered as Minho started shaking, his thighs closing tightly around Jisung’s as he came. Jisung carried on milking him, praising Minho as he sobbed through waves. Jisung could feel how intense it was as Minho pulsed around his fingers. He kissed Minho’s wet cheek and moved to pull his fingers out as his orgasm eased off.
“Wait,” Minho said. “Can you keep going, please? Need it.”
His cock was still hard against his stomach despite the amount of cum on the towel.
“Anything,” Jisung promised, beginning the small movements again.
They moved past overstimulation in barely any time, Minho’s slightly pained noises melting back into pleasure. He was chasing the feeling with his own body, pushing down against Jisung.
“I want you,” Minho said. He sounded desperate, his voice breaking on each word.
“I don’t know about that, darling. You’re not in a good headspace to consent,” Jisung worried his lip between his teeth.
Minho didn’t like that, pulling away from Jisung’s neck to look him dead in the eye. His cheeks were flushed and eyes teary, hair mussed up and lips bitten red. He looked completely debauched, so beautiful and all Jisung’s.
“Sungie, I promise you, I can consent to this. I need it,” Minho promised. His words were clear despite his obvious headspace and Jisung was never one to deny his boyfriend anything he wanted.
“Okay, my love. Condom or no?”
“No, but please can you cum on the towel, then go back in?” Minho asked, his voice small.
Jisung chuckled, completely enamoured by the older boy infront of him. He loved him like this, small and completely trusting on Jisung to look after him and give him what he needs.
He put his two fingers back into Minho, despite his whine for more, “Need to finish stretching you if you want this.”
He worked up to three quickly to quieten Minho’s complaints, deeming him ready when he started swivelling his hips impatiently.
“How do you want it?”
“On my back, kiss me,” Minho requested, lying back and cupping Jisung’s face to pull him closer. After lining up and pushing in, he granted Minho’s request, kissing him as he thrust into the boy gently, drawing little uh’s out of him everytime he buried deep inside of him.
“Going to cum,” Minho whispered against his lips, encouraging Jisung to double his efforts. A few more thrusts later and Minho whispered a small coming before his jaw went slack and he contracted around Jisung’s dick. He looked angelic as he came, eyes locked on Jisung in an intimate show of complete trust. Jisung kissed the top of his head as he came down, keeping his movements small to meet his own high without overstimulating Minho.
As he neared the end, he pulled out of Minho to jerk himself until he came against the soiled towel, careful to not get it on Minho. He grunted through his orgasm, his free hand clenching into the skin of Minho’s thigh, keeping them connected in some way. Minho watched the way his hand worked over himself with rapt interest, lip pulled between his teeth.
Once he was finished, he wiped some of the excess cum off his cock and turned Minho on his side so he could slot behind him and push back into the warmth of his body, circling his arms around his waist tightly. He nosed at Minho’s neck, leaving a gentle kiss there. Minho held his hands that were resting against his stomach, sighing softly.
“Thankyou, Jagi. No one can look after me like you,” Minho whispered, earning himself another kiss against his neck. He felt safe with Jisung’s arm’s wrapped around him, their skin pressed together intimately and beautifully. Like a puzzle.
“Anything for you,” Jisung repeated himself, hiding a smile in Minho’s skin. “Sleep a bit more, we can shower later.”
Minho nodded, snuggling back even further to push Jisung’s softening cock deeper into his body earning a shiver from both. It could edge on painful, the overstimulation, but Minho needed the closeness to come back to himself.
They dozed for a while, tangled together on top of the covers, cooling down. As they slept, Jisung slipped out of Minho, but it was okay as he became more and more oriented.
By the time they were fully awake again, Minho was feeling clear-headed, the tendrils of anxiety seemingly settled and releasing him from their grip.
The other occupants of the dorm had returned at some point, evident by the soft music coming from Hyunjin’s room and the smell of brownies drifting from the kitchen.
“They must’ve brought everyone here,” Jisung mumbled against Minho’s back.
“Our dorm is fucking freezing,” Minho agreed, turning in Jisung’s arms to look at him. “There he is, my little Jisungie.”
Jisung scowled at that, batting at Minho’s hand that came to squeeze his cheek, “I think I should be calling you my little Minho, hm? You were so cute, today.”
Minho blushed, “Thanks for taking care of me.”
“No need to thank me, it’s my boyfriend duties,” he joked, kissing Minho’s lips.
“I feel like me again. Shower? I need to apologise to everyone.”
“They’ll understand, Hyung, you’ve had a lot of pressure on you.”
**
Once showered and clothed, they made their way hand-in-hand to the living room, where everyone was, unsurprisingly, situated. A batch of Felix’s brownies were in the middle of the table and the boys were laughing together. All eye’s fell on them as they entered, some concerned.
“Did Minho try to eat you?” Seungmin smirked as he pointed at his own neck, stare directed at Jisung.
Jisung blushed, pulling his hoodie up higher over his neck, “No, he still won’t give into that kink,” Jisung retorted, revelling in the look of disgust Seungmin gave him, his way of covering up the fond smile he was fighting.
“I just want to say I’m sorry. Innie, I’m sorry, especially to you. I don’t know what came over me; I have no excuses,” Minho said solemnly, grounded by Jisung’s hand around his waist. Jeongin stood up and walked over to the pair, his ever-present smile on his lips.
“It’s okay, Hyung. I’ll try harder from now on.”
Minho crumpled at that, stepping forward to hold Jeongin against his chest.
“You always try hard, please don’t let my stupid mood make you think otherwise. You do more than enough, I promise you,” He stepped back to ruffle Jeongin’s hair. “Always our baby.”
“I’m not a baby,” Jeongin grumbled, but he softened as he looked at Minho. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Hyung.”
“It’s hard not to,” He smiled as he looked at the rest of the members. They all took it as a cue to hug him, Minho thanking Chan profusely for helping him with his panic attack.
“It’s okay, just tell us next time you’re feeling so bad. We wouldn’t have deprived you of Hannie for the day if we’d have known,” he smirked.
“Hey, we’re not like co-dependant,” Jisung pouted.
Chan chuckled at that, “No, but you are like two halves of one whole.”
They couldn’t argue with that, so they let themselves be pulled into the group huddle and sat around the table eating brownies and drinking a bit too much. At the end of the day, they were always going to be a group, just with one disgustingly in-love couple thrown in there, too.