Work Text:
There's a growing pile of feathers clenched in Seonghwa's hands, and he's trying desperately to make sure none of them slip out as he hurries to pick them all up from the bathroom floor.
His wings are getting worse.
Days and weeks are beginning to accumulate, more time where he hasn't had the time or energy to properly look after his wings, and they were already bad enough two weeks ago.
The worse it gets, the longer it'll take to fix. He knows the sooner he properly grooms them, looks after them like he should, it'll help to manage them. That the stress will ease up a little and he'll break the cycle of being stressed because his wings are shedding, and then shedding because he's now even more stressed for it.
He knows. But looking at the feathers scattered all over the bathroom, an explosion of evidence after taking off his wing’s binder to shower - it's overwhelming.
The mirror is fogged up, and he's thankful for it. Having to look in the mirror and see the damage of his wings, the clear reflection of just how bad they are, will only make him feel even worse. He caught a glimpse before the shower, and he's fought to keep back frustrated tears since.
It's not moult season. The boys know that. If they saw the amount of feathers that have fallen, they'd immediately be able to tell why.
The state of his feathers is reliant on his mental state. They all know that when he's stressed, worried, anxious, he'll start to shed feathers - falling through their fingers as they help him preen.
It's never been this bad. He's never let them get this bad before, and it's a pressure that's only building and building. Outside of moult season, he's never seen so many bare patches where feathers are refusing to regrow.
He should've dealt with them the moment they started to fall out two weeks ago. Should've swallowed his pride and approached the boys when they weren't as bad as they are now.
But he told himself he'd deal with it. That his wings were too shameful to show his boyfriends, too embarrassing to let them see just how bad the state of them was then. And though he knows they will be upset he didn't come sooner, that he shouldn’t wait any longer, he still does not tell them.
They've only gotten worse as he continues to bind them down, doesn't groom them, just keeps them constrained and refuses to deal with them because he has more important things to focus on.
He's locked the bathroom door, but it's really only a matter of time before someone tries to barge in. He's been living with the seven others now for a year, all of them saving up in order to rent their current apartment.
While it's been great, it also means privacy is something Seonghwa rarely gets.
Especially when there's only two bathrooms, and most of them are currently home. It's a rare occasion, particularly as exams approach as most of them take to studying elsewhere.
Hongjoong's already headed out his late-night radio hosting shift, Seonghwa catching him as he returned from his day shift, exchanging a quick kiss and encouragements. Seonghwa had quickly hurried to the bathroom after that, wanting to shower as soon as possible, only giving quick greetings to the rest in the apartment.
Wooyoung's also got a shift at his restaurant tonight, will finish up around the same time as Hongjoong and they’ll likely head home together, but it's getting rarer to see so many at home.
Which means Seonghwa has to be more careful as he dumps the feathers into the bin, tying it up and replacing the lining bag. Feathers are a nuisance to keep contained, and he only hopes they stay in the lining when he takes it down to the complex's bins.
There's a knocking at the door just as Seonghwa finishes binding his wings down again, and he hurries to put his shirt on over it. He unlocks it, fumbling a little as he tries to pull his pants on at the same time, and San smiles at him.
He looks tired, as they all do. Everything seems to be picking up for all of them, and San and Seonghwa have taken up more shifts to try and compensate for those that need to study so they don't have to worry about extra work.
Still, his smile is bright and kind, and Seonghwa melts a little. He really doesn't know how it's possible to love so many so much - but everytime he sees them, it's a constant reminder that he does. He really truly does.
San steps into the bathroom, helping to smooth down Seonghwa's collar. "I don't think you saw when you walked in, but there's dinner on the kitchen table for you."
Seonghwa frowns at him, because usually when he works both jobs in a day, he gets his meals while on break during his second shift.
They pool their money together for groceries, meals and bills, with those that earn more contributing more.
Seonghwa has been making sure to put in more, but buys his own meals from his own personal allowance so that the others can dip a bit more into their shared one.
He doesn't tell them that, of course. He knows they'd argue it, because personal allowances are meant for their own personal activities, for things they enjoy. He knows he'd argue if he found anyone doing the same.
San kisses his cheek, fingers brushing through his hair to try and style it a little. "You have a bit of time before your next shift, come eat with us while you're here."
San pouts at him, and Seonghwa folds all too easily. He knows he can argue that someone could use it for lunch tomorrow, that the rest of them can eat his share, or anything else he'd usually try. But the pout is a plea, and Seonghwa is a weak, weak man.
Knowing he's won, San grabs his hand and leads him to the kitchen. The others that are in the apartment are spread around the table, grinning when they see Seonghwa.
There's already a plate out for him, and Jongho passes him some chopsticks. They're already halfway through their meals, though Seonghwa knows they have been purposely eating slow or started later to eat with him.
They would've ordered to make sure Hongjoong had some to take, and Seonghwa had taken a fair bit of time in the bathroom, so they’ve been waiting a while.
"How was work today, hyung?" Yunho asks from beside him, both of them watching as Mingi tries to steal some of the food off Jongho’s plate and the ensuing bickering.
"It was okay," Seonghwa replies, giving him a smile. "Nothing exciting today. How did studying go?”
Yunho sighs. “I always forget why it’s a bad idea to study with Mingi.”
Seonghwa glances properly over at Yunho, laughing as he spots the line of bruising on his neck, leading down to his collarbones. Mingi seems to notice what they’re talking about and flushes.
“I swear we did study!” Mingi defends, and Seonghwa sees the way he nervously glances at the door like he expects Hongjoong to manifest.
Seonghwa laughs again, shaking his head. San is leaning across and pulling down Yunho’s shirt, inspecting the bruising and snickering.
It’s nice to be home with them. There’s two very obvious missing presences, and they all feel it, but it’s been a while since so many of them have properly shared a meal.
The warmth washes over Seonghwa, letting himself relax in the atmosphere even as the dread begins to rise, knowing he’ll have to leave soon.
“Hyung,” Yeosang suddenly pipes up, his own meal finished in front of him. “How many shifts are you working this week?”
Seonghwa lowers his chopsticks, eyebrows furrowing. “My schedule is on the fridge, Yeo-ah.”
“Tonight’s shift wasn’t added until late last night. How many are you planning to take?” There’s a careful lilt to Yeosang’s words, concern slipping through even if he didn’t mean for it to.
Usually, there’s only two days a week where he works both. For the past couple of weeks, it’s increased to four days - and this week will be five, because Seonghwa’s already organising to pick up someone else’s.
“I’m okay, you know,” Seonghwa tells him, trying to stop what he knows will happen.
Yeosang will say there’s no need to take so many, that he can pick up some shifts as well, and then Jongho will say he can start looking for a part-time job to help. That Seonghwa doesn’t need to overwork himself like this.
But they’re all studying, most working as well, and Jongho’s getting a bit of money himself from his parents and from recording guides for the studio Hongjoong’s currently interning at. They’re all already working so hard, and Seonghwa doesn’t want to add to that stress.
Besides, he’s taken the semester off. Too much pressure from all sides - from studying something his parents pushed him towards, something that took too much time and he wasn’t able to work and help support financially.
Just overwhelmed. Always overwhelmed.
“It’s only for a little bit,” Seonghwa continues, reassuring. A little bit. Like he’s suddenly going to have this study crisis resolved by next semester, like they’re not already just doing their best to keep their head above water with all the bills.
If he goes back, that’s a lot of income lost. It’s easing up slowly with Seonghwa and San’s extra shifts, but - if he goes back, each semester will only stack up with more and more study to do. It’ll get harder, not easier, not until he graduates.
And Seonghwa’s parents have reached out before, reached out at the beginning of semester when he called them crying and upset and telling them he’s just going to work because everything’s just too much at the moment.
He regrets that call. They offered to send money to help ease his stress, but he rejected their attempts because he was already so far from them, regretful that all he did was cause them more worry.
Yeosang’s mouth twists, a sign he’s about to argue. Seonghwa gets up from the table, cleaning up his plate, and goes around to lean down and kiss Yeosang’s temple.
“We’ve all got a lot going on right now, but it’ll ease up soon.”
There’s a painful flare-up of pain in one of Seonghwa’s wings, warning him he’s done something wrong with the binding. It’s a spot that’s been aching for a few days now, but bending down aggravates it, and he only just disguises his sharp inhale of pain.
He’s quick to stand properly to hide it, hoping he’ll have some time to fix up the binder to try and relieve some pressure.
He effectively ends any further discussion by clearing up any other dishes, and then getting ready for his next shift. He grabs the tied-up bin from the bathroom when he readjusts the binder, careful to hide it as he goes to say goodnight and goodbye to everyone in the apartment.
It always takes a little longer to leave. The happier atmosphere only makes them all the more affectionate, reluctant to let Seonghwa go. Mingi always pouts and demands more kisses, which Seonghwa is all too happy to give.
Yunho clings on extra tight, arms around his neck to be careful about his bound wings, and Jongho and Yeosang both kiss him and force him to take some of the leftovers to eat on his break.
Wooyoung texts him just as he’s finally able to step out the apartment, sending a photo of his dinner, and then a following message saying he hopes Seonghwa has eaten well too. Seonghwa replies, a balancing act as he holds the rubbish and his leftovers that he’s trying to fit in his work bag.
Wooyoung promises that he’ll meet up with Hongjoong so they can go home together, and that if Seonghwa wants, they can come by as well. While Seonghwa’s heart does a little happy skip at the thought, Wooyoung and Hongjoong need any extra rest they can get, so he turns it down.
They have a bit of a sticker emoji war as Seonghwa starts his journey to work and Wooyoung is on break. Seonghwa has a feeling Wooyoung’s lined up his break for Seonghwa’s travel time, neither of them seeing each other that day otherwise.
It’s hard some days. Some days schedules just don’t line up and no one’s home at the right time, and Seonghwa can go days without seeing one of them sometimes. It’s only gotten worse as they’ve gotten busier, and his chest aches a little as he misses Wooyoung.
He misses all of them, really. But they’re working hard, so Seonghwa has to work hard too so he can support them, and it’s a sacrifice he needs to deal with.
Shifting on the bus seat, he feels more feathers dislodge, the pain echoing throughout his wings.
Just another sacrifice. It’s just that it’s one he’d rather not have to deal with - and so he isn’t.
Ever since his wings have started to become unkempt, Seonghwa’s been lucky no one has seen them.
More shifts with work means he has a good excuse to keep them bound. It’s not necessarily a uniform requirement, because unions have been going hard at any businesses making wing-binding part of their uniform. It’s just that he’s always preferred to keep them out of the way.
Wings are rare. Enough to be stared at, but no longer rare enough to be publicly shamed at least.
It’s just that Seonghwa’s never really been one to want to show off his wings. He doesn’t like the unfriendly stares, the judgement as people pick apart even more things about him - his wings are too intimidating, his feathers too dark, too large, too much.
He knows those comments are just made by petty, mean souls. That the words should just roll right off his back, because he can’t help what people say. He can’t help what he is, what’s part of him. Even if he doesn’t want his wings to be.
They’re just too much. Always too much. Too messy, too frustrating, too tedious to deal with.
His parents and elder brother always did their best to help, but it’s hard when none of them have wings. A throwback genetic - one far back enough that his grandmother is the only one who remembers anyone in the family with them.
And his frustration had exploded one day when he was younger, blowing up at his brother while he was moulting. A comment about how the feathers were everywhere, if Seonghwa could please try and keep them under control.
Seonghwa hadn’t realised it, not until then. Hadn’t realised just how powerful wings were, how harmful. He had lashed out, his brother struck and injured, and Seonghwa has never forgiven himself for it - didn’t think he can ever trust or love his wings.
Meeting the others is the best thing to happen to him. They’re patient, loving, adoring. Careful with his wings, always treating them with so much love when he finally trusts himself enough to let them touch the feathers.
Always given more love than he has ever deserved, he thinks.
Initially, he really only let them lightly stroke his feathers, but never properly sat down to let their fingers comb through the feathers and groom them.
Living together means it’s a little harder to brush off everyone’s attempts to help preen them.
It means that he couldn’t escape them when he first went through his yearly moult while living together, feathers falling out everywhere. He’s always more tired during it, drained as he tries to keep up with making sure everything grows back okay.
He was terrified, afraid they’d get fed up with the care his wings need. That they wouldn’t want to deal with all the hassle, and he was ready to plead and say he’ll deal with them himself, to please just be patient with him.
He knew then, and certainly knows now, that his boyfriends aren’t like that. That they always take every moment to try and make him comfortable with letting his wings free, telling him they love when he lets them touch them, are honoured he lets them.
But he was still so scared, because he doesn’t want to deal with his own wings - why should he make others?
His boyfriends are so, so good. When he finally warned them about the moult season approaching, they researched, encouraged him to let them help, and let him rest as they gently groomed through his feathers.
They clean up the feathers, never complain about the mess. The only comment is Mingi declaring they should get some pillow slips and have many, many pillowfights.
He’s so, so loved.
And he loves them so, so much.
But when the feathers started to fall out a couple weeks back, it’s not great timing.
Everyone’s a little stressed, the pressure of upcoming exams starting to sink in, Hongjoong getting more work as he gains more recognition, and all of them are just busy.
So he doesn’t approach anyone, because he can handle it on his own.
His wings are bound for longer periods as he works more, almost aching whenever he’s finally able to stretch them, but he’s able to fit in a bit of grooming at the start.
But stress levels rise, more feathers fall, and the pain increases. He no longer has the time to properly groom them, and he knows no one has either, so he binds them down and doesn’t let anyone really see them.
Everyone being busy means that it slips under the radar. They’re all focused on their own activities, and though some have pointed out the fact they haven’t seen his wings in a while, it’s easy for Seonghwa to ease their worries.
And because they’re all busy, it means the topic of his wings is never brought up with each other. Means they assume that Seongha’s been looking after them, just not when they’ve seen him, and haven’t connected that none of them have seen his wings now for some time.
It continues for another couple of weeks. Into the exams period, and Seonghwa is careful.
They’re all almost dead on their feet, minds exhausted from all the studying, energy drained by poor sleep from stress. Careful, because he can’t give them more stress, anything else to worry about.
Can’t have them seeing the clear evidence that he’s not doing okay. That his wings are in such poor shape, aching all the time, that he’s worried he might be damaging them in the long-term. Binders are not meant to be used for so long, after all.
It’ll be okay, he tells himself, exhausted as he comes home from a day shift.
No one should be home - a couple have exams today, and Seonghwa sent them to it after waking up early and preparing a lunch box for them. The rest are working, or with friends, and Seonghwa heads straight to the bathroom.
After exams are over, once everything has calmed down, Seonghwa will ease up on the shifts. He’ll stretch out his wings, and - it’ll be a hard task, but he’ll do it, because he has to.
He’ll sort out his feathers then, deal with the aches and pains, and wait for them to heal before letting them out properly again around the others.
He can’t hide them forever, he knows. Not when their schedules begin to ease up, once they start spending more time together again, and Seonghwa’s excuses will be quick to run dry.
He’ll be okay. He will be - he has to be.
He hasn’t let himself look at his wings for a few days now, the double shifts making it too easy to avoid. It’s hard not to glimpse at them when he’s binding them, and even that brings an overwhelming amount of guilt and shame that makes him want to cry.
But they’re aching to be stretched out, and he takes a deep breath and starts to undo the binder. He could turn away from the mirror, could remain as oblivious as he can - because if they’re not in his sight, he doesn’t have to deal with them. But he finds himself rooted to the spot, to look at the mirror as his wings start to unfurl.
It hurts. It really, really hurts, and he can’t help but wince even as he’s slow to try and stretch them. A cry of pain escapes when he moves one too soon, and he has to brace himself forward on the bathroom sink as a blinding, dizzying pain begins to build.
His wings are heavy - but it’s a weight he’s used to. Or was used to.
Now, as his wings start to settle behind him properly, for the first time he’s let them in a couple days, the weight of them is too much to bear.
His fingers tighten around the bench, breaths coming out as short, pained hisses as he tries to breathe through it. Feathers are fluttering around him, falling to the ground - more and more falling out, more spots completely exposed, too many spots without feathers.
He doesn’t think he’d be able to fly anymore. He rarely does, has only done it once in front of the others, but - there’s something unsettling about losing that.
After all, if he can’t fly, what good are they for then? What purpose do they even have?
He’s brought out of his spiraling thoughts by a shout through the apartment, head snapping up in panic.
“Hyung! I heard you come home, where’d you go?”
It’s Mingi’s voice calling, getting closer as he yells out. Locking the door will be suspicious, a giveaway that he’s upset when there’s no shower running - and turning the shower on now will look like he’s purposely avoiding Mingi.
No time to use the binder, he does his best to tuck his wings in and wrap them around himself even though it aches, and quickly gets his shirt back on. It’s large enough to cover his wings when they’re bound down, but it’s stretching a little without the binder - still, it hides them well enough, and he gets it on just in time.
Mingi knocks on the door then opens it immediately anyway, because privacy means very little in the face of wanting hugs.
Seonghwa realises too late.
The feathers.
Fuck. The feathers.
Mingi almost trips and stumbles, mind taking in the scene just a second slower than his body. He halts to a stop, eyes wide and mouth open as he stares at the feathers on the ground.
They both know it’s an abnormal amount. He can see Mingi think for a moment, trying to remember if it’s moulting time, but Mingi’s good at remembering these kinds of things.
“Hey, Mingi-ah,” Seonghwa says, as calmly as he can, even if his heart is hammering and he’s panicking because no one is meant to be home.
Mingi is meant to be out with friends, and dammit Seonghwa should’ve just taken the time to check when he got home.
Too late for that though, and now he’s left scrambling his thoughts to try and explain this logically to Mingi.
“Hyung,” Mingi replies, shifting into a more solid stance. Seonghwa can see the worry settle into his face, glancing over all the feathers again.
“It’s okay.” It’s definitely not, but Seonghwa can convince Mingi if the feathers are all he sees. Only a day’s worth, not the past few weeks, Seonghwa just needs to be rational about it. “It happens sometimes.”
He’s forgotten how perceptive Mingi can be. They’ve all been so tired, Mingi barely able to answer standard questions other than what he needs for exams, and Seonghwa had maybe been banking on that right now.
Unfortunately, Mingi’s perception doesn’t falter. “When you’re stressed, Seonghwa-hyung. Only when you’re really upset, and have been for a while.”
Lying to anyone upsets him, but lying to his boyfriends is always awful. He tries not to, ever, but they spill from his lips with panic, desperate to control the situation.
“Right, right, I know. I have been a little with work is all, but it only looks this bad because I was grooming through the feathers.”
Grooming dislodges loose feathers easier - which is why it’s worrying so many are falling out without it.
Mingi’s gaze goes to his shirt, like he’s trying to see through the fabric to his wings. Seonghwa is careful not to wilt under his gaze, to not let Mingi catch a glimpse of just how panicked he is.
Mingi’s concern is still evident, and Seonghwa hates that he’s making him worry. That it’s gotten this bad, that Mingi seems so sad about what he can see - so little, compared to how it truly is.
Seonghwa opens his arms when Mingi walks forward, the other carefully wrapping himself around Seonghwa, arms around his neck to pull him in.
“You know we like to help, right? That we like to help you with your wings,” Mingi says, pressing a kiss to Seonghwa’s hair.
Not when they’re like this. You won’t like them when I’ve let them get like this, Seonghwa thinks. They’d probably feel guilty, like it’s somehow their fault Seonghwa’s wings are in this state - when this is his responsibility, his fault alone.
Seonghwa can’t burden them with this.
“I know, I know. It’s okay, they’re okay,” Seonghwa reassures, swaying a little as Mingi rocks them back and forth. Guilt has settled heavily, sinking more and more as the lies begin to stack up.
Mingi’s one to show his concern and love with affection and actions. He won’t push Seonghwa, not with words or questions, and Seonghwa’s relieved for it.
Eventually they pull away from each other. Mingi gives him a quick kiss, interlacing their hands, before letting go to crouch down.
“Mingi-ah, don’t worry about it,” Seonghwa crouches down as well, trying to shoo Mingi away from picking up the feathers. “I’ll clean it up, it’s okay. You have a shift later, go and relax.”
Mingi sticks out his tongue at him. “And you just had one. No offence, hyung, but you kind of look like you need to relax more.”
Seonghwa gasps in mock indignation, shoving at Mingi to try and unbalance him. Annoyingly, Mingi stays solid, grinning at him cheekily.
They clean up the feathers, filling up the bin once again. Seonghwa’s taken to just using new bin-liners, instead of having to replace the bin, afraid someone will catch on to the bin being emptied so often.
With the feathers in his hands, Seonghwa notices just how different they look. His feathers are usually shiny, bright and reflective. Now, the black feathers just look dull, the shiny black replaced by an unreflective, lighter shade.
Mingi doesn’t notice, or doesn’t say anything about them. Just links their hands together as they go to take the rubbish out, and doesn’t let go even when they get back, pulling Seonghwa into his room and down onto the bed.
“I demand relaxing in the form of cuddles,” Mingi states, already trapping Seonghwa in his hold.
“I can make you dinner before you leave,” Seonghwa tries to offer, and Mingi just shakes his head.
“Nope! Hyunkyu owes me a meal anyway after I covered a shift for him,” Mingi refutes, and Seonghwa just sighs and relents, knowing Mingi won’t let him argue anymore.
They stay like that, even when Wooyoung and Yeosang return home. Yeosang looks tired but relieved, answering Seonghwa’s concerns about his exam with a small smile from the doorway, which means he feels like he did okay - and though Seonghwa knows he definitely did fine, how Yeosang feels about it is much more important.
Mingi only lets him go once he can’t put off getting ready for work any longer, but makes him stay in the room so he can get a kiss whenever he passes by the bed - an incredibly frequent amount.
Somehow, Mingi leaves on time, even as he makes sure to kiss them all plenty before he goes. Seonghwa feels lighter, happier than he has in days, but the guilt hasn’t eased up.
Only worsens as he starts to think okay, make sure Mingi will not suspect anything further. To make sure Mingi doesn’t have any reason to prod any further, no more reasons to concern himself.
He hopes that with the shift tonight, Mingi will be too busy to remember, too busy to slip it to someone else.
Unfortunately for Seonghwa, Mingi seems to remember.
Two days after the incident, Seonghwa is in the kitchen preparing dinner for later. He has a night shift, but his day is free, and it’s been a while since he’s been able to properly put some time into making a meal.
Hongjoong is in their room napping, and Jongho is preparing to leave for a group study session. Before he does, though, he makes sure there’s a space on the bench clear before hopping up on it, and Seonghwa doesn’t even bother trying to get him to move.
“Hyung,” Jongho starts carefully, and Seonghwa’s heart seems to skip with the serious tone. He had just been starting to think he’d gotten away with Mingi - but Jongho would be the first he’d tell, and it seems he has. “You’re working really hard lately, you should be resting.”
“I like cooking,” Seonghwa’s tone is light, an attempt to ease up Jongho’s serious tone. He does enjoy it - truly. It’s one of the more relaxing tasks to do, and he likes being able to look after them all, especially when he hasn’t been able to lately.
It makes him feel a little better with everything. Reassuring that he can still look after them, that he can manage to do this much.
“And we really like your cooking hyung,” Jongho assures, feet swinging a little over the bench. “But you don’t have to look after us all the time when you should rest, or do... more fun things, at least.”
Honestly, Seonghwa doesn’t even know what to do with himself if he’s not working anymore, or doing something productive around the house. Feels like he’s wasting time, that he should be doing so much more with everyone working so hard.
“Hey, cooking is fun,” Seonghwa defends, focusing down on the vegetables he’s chopping so that he doesn’t need to see the expression on Jongho’s face.
Jongho is different to Mingi in showing his love and affection. He’ll ask questions and talk, which is much harder for Seonghwa to keep things hidden with.
“You know you can rely on us too, right? You look after us, and we look after you too, that’s how it goes.” Jongho’s voice is soft, full of concern and sincerity.
They both know that Seonghwa will shut down any conversation about Jongho getting a job to help out, especially when he’s in the middle of exams. Jongho’s careful not to mention it, but Seonghwa knows the implication is there.
Seonghwa looks up, Jongho’s gaze steadily meeting his. “I know, Jongho-ah.”
It’s not a lie. He knows he can ask anything of them, and they’d do it for him. It’s just that he would sometimes rather not burden them with feeling that pressure.
Jongho frowns a little, leaning forward to be a little closer to Seonghwa. “We want to, because that’s what we do, isn’t it? All of us, we look after each other. Especially when we’re all struggling - we can’t get through it without one another. So please talk to us, let us look after you as well.”
Seonghwa stopped prepping the food the moment he had looked up, but now he properly lowers the knife. Jongho’s words are comforting, warming, and make him feel so, so full of love.
But they’re also a good way to stir up his guilt again, reminding him that he’s making them concerned for him, that he’s not doing well enough to hide it now. That he needs to do better, to make sure they’re not worried about him.
“Thank you, Jongho-ah,” Seonghwa is sincere, because he’s always thankful to be reminded of their love, of how much he loves them.
Jongho looks for a moment like he might push at the topic, taking a few moments to debate it internally, before sliding off the bench. Seonghwa is a little wary, unsure of Jongho’s decision, but relaxes when Jongho slides up next to him, a reassuring weight by his side.
“Okay hyung, what are we cooking then?”
With two of them now concerned about him, Seonghwa knows it’s only a matter of time before he’s confronted again.
Unfortunately, this time, he’s not even given a day. It’s his own fault.
He’s got two shifts again today - one in the morning, one in the early afternoon, which gives him only a bit of time at home between them. He’s beyond tired, the morning shift more draining than normal, and he has to resist the temptation to nap - knowing he won’t wake up in time if he does.
Hongjoong and Jongho have exams today, the others elsewhere, and only Yunho and Mingi are home at the moment. They’re both engrossed in study, so Seonghwa takes a quick shower, only realising he’s left his change of clothes back in the bedroom once he’s bound down his wings.
He’s barely thinking, barely functioning. He makes it safely from the bathroom to the bedroom without drawing attention at least.
He pulls on his pants first, reaching for his work shirt, when the bedroom door opens.
He whirls around, surprised, to see Yunho standing at the door.
And Yunho’s sight is immediately on Seonghwa’s upper body, where his wings are currently bound.
The binder hides most of his wings, keeps them down, but there’s still parts that stick up a little, parts the binder doesn’t need to cover.
Those spots are faring better in terms of not losing as many feathers, not having to deal with the compression and friction of the binder, but his emotions are still enough for those spots to be noticeably sparse.
Yunho can clearly see it, eyes wide in surprise. “Hyung,” he starts, hands outreaching like he’s trying to reach Seonghwa.
Seonghwa hurries to put his shirt on, to hide it before Yunho can get any closer. Yunho pauses, broken out of his apparent daze, eyes meeting Seonghwa’s.
“Hyung, they-” Yunho falters, licking his lips nervously. “I don’t... I don’t think you should be binding your wings right now.”
This isn’t good - especially not now that three of them are concerned, that Yunho has seen this much, is telling him not to bind anymore. He smiles as best as he can at Yunho, trying to placate him.
“It’s fine, Yunho-ah. I prefer that they are for work,” Seonghwa answers, walking over to his closet for a jacket.
Besides, there’s no way he can let them out now, not for work. Not when coworkers will see just how badly managed they are, how embarrassing and shameful it will be to show them that.
“Hyung, you’re already working too much, it’s not safe for them to be bound down like that all the time.” Yunho has stepped up close to him, following him as Seonghwa walks around the room, trying to get himself organised. “I really don’t think it’s okay.”
“I’ll look after them better, I promise, don’t be concerned about them. They’re okay, they’ll be fine in a couple days.”
The room feels suffocating, Yunho pressing all too close, too close to seeing just how bad everything is.
“Hyung, they don’t look okay,” Yunho says it softly, carefully, treating the words delicately like he’s waiting for Seonghwa to shatter with them.
The guilt and shame wash over him as he tries to avoid Yunho’s gaze. He doesn’t want Yunho’s concern wasted on him, wasted on his wings - which are just a burden to him now, something for him to be ashamed about, something he can’t deal with anymore.
He doesn’t shatter like Yunho expects him to. He breaks, and he snaps.
It’s the stress of everything coming down, it’s just how exhausted he feels today, and he does it without ever wanting to.
“Yunho-ah,” he says sternly, straightening up even though he just wants to curl up, just wants to hide away. “They are my wings. I know what I’m doing, and I don’t appreciate you questioning me about this right now.”
Yunho has faltered with shock, mouth open and eyes wide. He blinks, and Seonghwa’s heart breaks when he notices that Yunho’s eyes are shimmering.
This is what he’s done in an attempt to try and push away Yunho’s concern. Has made Yunho so upset, and he feels sick.
“Seonghwa-hyung...” Yunho isn’t one to back down with his concern, but it seems Seonghwa’s frustration has made him pause.
“I’m sorry, Yunho-ah. I’m sorry,” Seonghwa immediately apologises, but makes no move to be closer to Yunho. Feels like he can’t, like he doesn’t deserve to after snapping like that. “I’m just tired today, but you didn’t deserve that. I promise that my wings are okay, please don’t worry about them.”
He knows Yunho certainly will now, especially after Seonghwa’s reaction to being gently pushed about them. But there’s no time to fix it, not like he needs to, and he sighs as he checks the time. “I’m sorry, I need to head to work. Make sure you get something tasty for dinner, okay? Get extra for yourself, my treat.”
Yunho goes to say something, but Seonghwa is actually now in a hurry to get everything ready for his shift, and it works to keep Yunho from prodding further.
He hurries out the door, quickly saying goodbye, making a note to himself that he should stop by the convenience store when he’s headed back home and get some of Yunho’s favourite snacks.
Guilt has been with him a while now, but it’s so suffocating he feels nauseous as he sits down on the bus.
Yunho’s hurt expression stays in his mind, taunting him, reminding him of just how badly he’s handling everything. He sinks into his seat, and does his best to keep it together.
Somehow, he makes it through the shift.
It’s a long one, finishing late, and he tells himself that all he needs to do now is make it home, and he can then collapse in bed and sleep.
He napped through his break, falling asleep with Hongjoong’s radio program playing in his ears, and not even checking his phone like he usually does. He has a day off tomorrow, his only one, and he’s prepared to spend it sleeping even if he feels guilty for it.
He says goodbye to his coworkers, stifling a yawn as he walks out the door, and startles when he almost runs into someone waiting.
“Oh! I’m so sorry-” he starts to apologise, but stops when he realises who it is. Wooyoung is grinning at him, all too happy to hear his formal tone.
“Gosh, you better be after almost knocking me over!” Wooyoung teases, folding his arms in a show of acting annoyed.
Seonghwa gives him a very flat, judgemental stare. “Well I can’t say I expected any strange people lingering around, being all weird and creepy right outside the door.”
Wooyoung bursts out with a loud “hey!” that has Seonghwa wincing, glancing back at the door to see his coworkers all staring back at him in varying degrees of amusement, familiar with the antics he has with his boyfriends.
“Well what does it say about you when you’re that person’s boyfriend, huh?” Wooyoung throws his arms around Seonghwa, holding onto him and hauling him down the street.
“It says I have poor judgement,” Seonghwa retorts, and Wooyoung snorts before hitting him in the arm.
“Well too bad, you’re stuck with me!” Wooyoung cries out, clinging to him tighter. He presses a purposely sloppy kiss to his cheek, leaving Seonghwa spluttering as they approach the bus stop.
It’s a little busy, but they find a space away from everyone else to talk without being overheard. Wooyoung wraps himself around Seonghwa from the side, tucked under Seonghwa’s arm and careful of his wings as he loosely joins his hands on Seonghwa’s other side.
Seonghwa checks his phone, seeing the missed messages. Wooyoung’s are the most recent, stating he’s waiting outside for Seonghwa to head home together.
Yunho’s messaged him as well, and he opens it to see a photo of dinner, with a message attached saying “have a good shift, hyung! There’ll be leftovers if you’re hungry. Love you!!”
Wooyoung, looking over at his screen, gags as Seonghwa sends back stickers full of love hearts. He remembers his plan to stop by the convenience store for Yunho, knowing he’ll be buying something for Wooyoung as well in gratitude for coming home with him.
Despite Wooyoung’s faux-disgust at the messages, he remains buried into his side, face nuzzling into Seonghwa’s shoulder.
“You’re tired, aren’t you, hyung?” Wooyoung asks quietly after a bit of silence, looking up at him. Seonghwa hums, pocketing his phone to give his full attention to Wooyoung.
“That obvious?” He asks, making sure he sounds like he’s lightly teasing. Wooyoung pouts up at him.
“You can tell us when you are,” Wooyoung replies, then reveals with a quieter voice: “Yunho-ah messaged me to make sure you come home alright.”
Seonghwa’s light-hearted replies fall away. Even after Seonghwa unfairly snapped at him, Yunho’s only concerned for him, only set out to make sure Seonghwa’s okay.
Wooyoung hugs him a little tighter, reaching up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. They both settle into silence, Wooyoung pressing close and humming a little under his breath to soothe Seonghwa.
When the bus pulls up, Wooyoung pulls him with a firm grasp, barely letting him tap his bus card before hauling both of them down into a seat. It’s thankfully pretty quiet, and they manage to get a seat near the back.
Sitting down suddenly makes Seonghwa feel a lot more exhausted, and Wooyoung just gently guides his head onto his shoulder, promising he’ll wake him up for their stop. Seonghwa settles easily, and drifts off into sleep.
When Wooyoung gently wakes him up, it takes Seonghwa a few bleary moments to realise where he is. Wooyoung guides him off the bus, and Seonghwa only properly awakens once they’ve already started to walk.
Wooyoung’s got hold of one of his hands, swinging it with his own, and Seonghwa suddenly pulls him to a stop. It takes another couple of seconds to remember why he’s stopping, what he’s looking for, and Wooyoung tilts his head curiously as Seonghwa tries to kick his brain into gear.
He pulls Wooyoung’s hand, leading him to the convenience store without explanation. He only meant to grab snacks for Yunho and Wooyoung, but then ends up with seven different types of snacks for everyone.
Wooyoung grabs something as well, but doesn’t let Seonghwa see or pay for it. Instead, he makes him leave the store after paying for the snacks, so that he can pay without Seonghwa hovering.
He suspects what it is, even though Wooyoung grabs Seonghwa’s bag just to take it and shove his own secret item inside. He distracts Seonghwa by grabbing his hand again, both of them heading home.
“By the way, hyung,” Wooyoung addresses, and Seonghwa turns to him with a questioning hum. “You haven’t really let your wings out for a while, have you?”
Seonghwa frowns at him, feeling panicked for a moment, because it’s too many, now. Too many are concerned. “Did Yunho say something?”
Wooyoung is now returning the frown, shaking his head. “No. It’s just that you haven’t really spread them out for us lately, and I miss my favourite blanket. Wait, what about Yunho? Why would he say something?”
Seonghwa ignores the second half of Wooyoung’s concern, hoping Wooyoung will let it slide. “We’re all busy, Wooyoungie. None of us are really relaxing.”
Wooyoung’s frown shifts into a pout, eyes wide and pleading. “Okay, well when we’re both a little less busy soon, do you promise?”
“Okay,” Seonghwa replies, careful to avoid stating that he promises, but still feels like a liar.
He’s always let Wooyoung - and San - near his wings the most. They like to play, but they’re always careful and gentle with his wings. They like to be cocooned and blanketed by his wings, always asking for it whenever they’re together.
He doesn’t think he could stand seeing their sad, pitying looks at the state of his wings. Seeing the state he’s let them devolve into, all too clearly seeing just how much he can’t handle them, how much he’s failed.
And if Seonghwa can’t even look after his own wings, if they’re the ones looking after him, what good is Seonghwa? He’s not the one studying, not the one doing internships and working so, so hard. If Seonghwa can’t look after them, what good is he as a hyung?
He doesn’t even realise he’s being led into their place until Wooyoung is encouraging him to take his shoes off, smiling fondly as Seonghwa snaps back to attention and fumbles around. They do their best to be quiet, placing the snacks carefully on the bench.
“Are you hungry, hyung?” Wooyoung asks, and Seonghwa considers that he hasn’t technically had dinner yet, slept through his break - but he’s so exhausted that he can’t even think about lifting a pair of chopsticks, and just shakes his head.
Wooyoung huffs, obviously hungry himself, and quickly grabs Seonghwa before he heads out the room, giving him a kiss. “Sleep well, hyung. Love you.”
“Love you,” Seonghwa mumbles back, another wave of exhaustion coming on, because he’s at home and very, very close to bed. Wooyoung laughs fondly and pushes him gently to his room, waving him goodnight.
He barely has the energy to take off his pants, and that’s as far as he gets before he crawls into bed. Hongjoong isn’t home, won’t be for another hour, but Seonghwa can’t physically wait up for him.
With his wings bound tightly around his body, hidden away, he falls asleep.
He sleeps a while.
Waking up disoriented, he’s confused as the signs of a sun high in the sky greet him through the window.
He’s set no alarms, too exhausted to bother with anything to try and wake him, no stressful thoughts able to enter his mind to try and startle him awake.
Nothing else had woken him up, either. Usually one of them crawls into his bed, trying to get him up for breakfast, but one glance at the time on his phone shows it’s much closer to lunchtime.
No one has any exams today, but a few have mentioned studying, and Yeosang and San have a morning shift that they’re probably already heading home from.
He lies in bed for a while, enjoying the quiet. The only thing that ruins it is the throbbing, the aches in his wings, protesting being bound any longer.
But the thought of getting up, of taking off the binder, of seeing his wings - it’s all too overwhelming, and he’d rather just lie in bed as long as he can and not think about them, not deal with them.
He lies there long enough that when there’s someone finally opening the door, as quietly and as cautiously as they can, it’s San that peeks his head in, home from his shift.
A smile breaks out the moment he sees Seonghwa awake, blinking back at him, and he quickly heads over to the bed and drapes himself over Seonghwa.
“We brought home lunch, and we were given some extra treats by Taeyong-hyung,” San tells him, and Seonghwa hums, bringing a hand up to stroke through San’s hair.
“Hyungie,” San says, moving to fit into the small space on the bed, sitting up on his elbow, cheek resting in his hand. He’s looking down at Seonghwa fondly, and Seonghwa can only think he’s so beautiful, I love him so much.
“Hyungie,” San is more firm, intent on getting Seonghwa’s focus. Seonghwa replies with a small hum again, which seems to be satisfactory.
The confidence he’s worked up seems to fade though, and Seonghwa reaches out with concern, holding San’s other cheek, fingers running again through his hair. “What is it, baby?”
“Do… do you mind it when I groom your wings?” San asks, and Seonghwa’s stomach drops.
He knew that too many of them were suspicious now, that he’d be cornered by everyone soon enough, but - he just didn’t expect this today, maybe. Not this soon, not when he was enjoying not thinking about the state of his wings.
The reminder of them is brutal, all the shame he’s shoved away for the morning hitting him again, increasing with San’s presence.
When Seonghwa lets them, he loves San doing it. He likes all of them doing it, but - San’s particularly careful, always so meticulous as he goes through the feathers.
Which is why the embarrassment hurts so much more. What would San think, seeing the state of them? In the end, it’d just be more work for San to do, time he doesn’t have spent dedicating to sorting out Seonghwa’s mess.
“No, of course not,” he replies, because despite how much he thinks he could use this as an excuse - he could say yes, and he knows San wouldn’t ask to do it anymore. That he’d be able to get away with hiding the state of his wings for a while longer.
But he can’t say it, not to San, who looks so worried, devastated like he’s preparing for Seonghwa to say he doesn’t want San to do it anymore.
San lets out a heavy sigh of relief, but doesn’t relax from his pose. Seonghwa’s arm drops, tired from holding it out, but interlaces his fingers with San’s on the bed.
San’s gaze shifts, no longer meeting his eyes, staring off into the wall. “I love it a lot, you know? It means you trust me - us - enough with such a precious part of you. I love doing it.”
Seonghwa’s throat suddenly feels choked up, and he swallows heavily. San slowly meets his eyes again, smiling softly, but it’s a sad smile. “I was thinking you didn’t like me doing it anymore, that I wasn’t doing well enough.”
“It’s not that,” Seonghwa feels desperate to reassure him, trying to wipe the hurt from San’s face. “God, it’s not that at all, Sannie. You’re amazing at it.”
His voice cracks a little, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. San’s eyebrows draw together in worry, finally lowering from his position to lie down properly. “Okay, then - what is it, hyung? Will you let me know?”
He could cave, right here. He always does so easily with San.
But - but the shaming embarrassment, the fear of disappointment weighs too heavily now. If he pulled off his shirt now, released his binder, and sat between San’s legs as he saw the state of his wings - will he be able to handle that?
He knows he can’t.
“Not right now,” Seonghwa replies, and he sees the ways that San’s face shutters over quickly with sadness. San does his best to hide it, but Seonghwa’s watching all too closely, and the hurt doesn’t escape his notice.
San’s gaze flickers down to his chest, to the wings bound underneath his shirt, and his fingers twitch for a second.
Seonghwa knows that realistically San wouldn’t break his trust like that - wouldn’t force Seonghwa to show him the state of his wings if he didn’t want to.
But logic has escaped Seonghwa for the moment, still heavy with sleeping so much, trying to keep San at a careful distance, that his breath catches with fear that he’ll have to stop San from prying.
San notices his slight movement, and he’s quick to settle back and apologise for startling him. Seonghwa pulls San into his arms, hugging him closely, hushing him and telling him there’s no reason to apologise, ashamed he ever thought San would make a movement to break his trust.
Yeosang’s the one that interrupts them, stating that they need to move if they want anything because Mingi is already eyeing off their share. They pull apart a little with a laugh, and San is quick to grab his hand and take him into the kitchen as his stomach rumbles.
All of them are home for once - perhaps the first time in a couple weeks now. San tucks himself into Seonghwa’s side, staying close as the excited conversations of everyone sweeps over the room.
Seonghwa’s favourite treat sits unassumingly on the table, and he knows it’s the one Wooyoung got from the mart. Seonghwa gives him a thankful smile, to which he reflects.
“Yeosangie! It’s your final exam tomorrow, right?” Wooyoung’s attention turns to Yeosang, the moment broken, and Seonghwa’s fingers close around the treat and pull it into his lap to eat later.
All of their exam timetables have been brutal, spread out across all the possible weeks. Yeosang will be the first to finish, but everyone else ends around the same time - everyone wrapping up within the following two days.
“What time do you finish?” Hongjoong asks him, and Seonghwa catches his gaze for a moment. They’ve both been planning to treat each one of them once they finish their exams, but the plans have been vague, made loosely when they can see each other - which is rare these days.
“Around three,” he replies, and everyone around him groans.
It’s come to the quick conclusion that everyone is busy at that time except for Seonghwa, who only has a morning shift.
He figures out what Hongjoong was going for, and takes the decision into his own hands. “Okay, I’ll buy you some chicken as congratulations then,” Seonghwa declares, and the rest complain for a moment before Hongjoong assures them they’ll be treating all of them separately.
Hongjoong focuses on Seonghwa for a moment. “Are you sure, we can get it together around dinner?” He offers, but Seonghwa gives him a flat look and gestures to Yeosang.
“Do you seriously think he’s going to like waiting?”
Hongjoong laughs at that, waving it off. “Fair, I’ll make sure I can treat some of the others then.”
Seonghwa is definitely also planning to treat Hongjoong, even if the other resists. He can get the others to help him after all, as Hongjoong finishes last, making it unavoidable.
With the plan settled, all of them are a lot happier and livelier, knowing the end of their exams is coming - with treats at the end of them.
The day passes quickly, everyone in happy spirits, and all too soon Seonghwa is headed to sleep, his one free day slipping by.
As promised, Seonghwa meets Yeosang on campus after he finishes his exam, heading to a restaurant together to fulfill Seonghwa’s promise.
Neither of them are all too affectionate in public, but it seems like they can’t help themselves as Yeosang buries into Seonghwa’s arms once he’s out of the classroom, elated to finally be done with it.
Or for chicken, Seonghwa isn’t too sure.
There was a bit of a break from Yeosang’s previous exam to this final one, so he’s had time to study, and his confidence shows with it. He’s happy to talk about the exam, about all his answers, and doesn’t seem too upset with those that stumped him.
“It’ll be enough to pass, I know,” Yeosang says, no room for doubt. “After all, I know some people going in there who studied the wrong content entirely, so I won’t do as badly as them.”
Seonghwa just laughs, all too used to Yeosang’s drive to just make sure he does better than most of his classmates.
Yeosang’s certainly excited, not even the usual post-final-exam tiredness looming in sight thanks to the prospect of chicken. Seonghwa lets him order a larger portion, because he’s been saving on not buying as many meals lately at work by napping through breaks or having leftovers.
Seonghwa just settles back and lets Yeosang enjoy, taking a photo of Yeosang eating and sending it to their groupchat. Yeosang devours it quickly, thanking Seonghwa sincerely for the food as he goes to pay for it.
Seonghwa knows it’s money well spent, simply pleased to see Yeosang look so happy, the stress of the past month melting off him. Yeosang will crash hard later, but for now he’s satisfied by the chicken, eyes bright and smile wide.
They’re not far from home, and they decide to walk back, hand-in-hand.
“It’s been a busy month,” Yeosang sighs, interrupting the calming silence between them. He glances up at the sky, then his gaze shifts to Seonghwa. “It’s finally almost over though.”
“Yeah,” Seonghwa replies, waiting as he knows there’s a point Yeosang wants to get to.
“So you’ll finally ease up on shifts, right?” Yeosang asks pointedly, and Seonghwa is reminded of their conversation all those days ago. Of Yeosang’s careful tone, trying to tell Seonghwa to take it easier on the shifts.
Seonghwa knows that if he says no, he will not win. He knows he can’t maintain his current workload, not for much longer - but he can hold out for another week, maybe two. Knows Yeosang will argue that as well, so he does not bring it up.
“Yeah.”
God, the lies. Seonghwa is so tired of lying.
Yeosang eyes him from the side, seeming to consider Seonghwa’s word. He huffs, an unhappy twist to his mouth that means Seonghwa’s lie is easy to see through.
“We couldn’t say it while we were all busy, we didn’t want to make you feel guilty especially when we couldn’t help out as much because of the exams,” Yeosang starts, and Seonghwa finds himself holding his breath.
He wants to stop Yeosang, to stop his words before they really hurt him. He doesn’t want them to worry about him, not when they’re doing so much, when Seonghwa’s just barely able to do the minimum for them.
He doesn’t, just squeezes Yeosang’s hand and hopes it’s enough to soften his blow.
“But we’re all really worried about how much you’re working,” Yeosang continues, and Seonghwa’s heart clenches. “Even Hongjoong is concerned. You two barely see each other, and I know it’s rare enough to have Hongjoong home, but now he’s almost home more than you.”
Seonghwa could debate it like he wants to. To say that Hongjoong is studying, doing his internship at the studio and starting to make some more money as he produces, and his radio hosting sessions. Seonghwa isn’t doing that much.
But Seonghwa knows Yeosang can easily tear his argument apart. Hongjoong makes sure he doesn’t overwork himself, doesn’t double up too often, and usually his radio hosting is more of an enjoyable time than a source of stress.
“And-” Yeosang breaks himself off hurriedly, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “The state of your wings, Seonghwa-hyung. Yunho spoke up about it to all of us, and then Mingi did as well.”
It explains all of them starting to be particularly concerned with his wings, at least. Seonghwa remains silent, not wanting to say anything more. Doesn’t want to lie anymore, but doesn’t think he can say the truth either.
“It’s okay to be overwhelmed, hyung. You burden yourself with so much responsibility for our sakes, you’ve taken on so much, and we know it’s been hard. Not just lately, but all the time, too.”
Seonghwa can’t say he regrets it, because his boys are worth everything to him.
But he regrets getting to this point - where he lies to them to hide his well-being, to push them away when they come too close, to let his wings be such a clear, shameful reflection of all of his stresses.
The second they see his wings, they’ll truly understand and see just how much Seonghwa’s been struggling. How much he’s been hiding.
It’s not fair to put that on them.
It certainly won’t be fair for them to hear what he wants to say - that he wishes he never had his wings, that he hates them.
He regrets ever having his wings.
He doesn’t want to meet their devastation, their gentle, selfless care - wasted on him when he doesn’t want to hear it. Doesn’t believe he deserves it.
It’s not their fault he got to this point. It’s not something they should have to fix.
“Hyung.” Yeosang breaks Seonghwa’s thoughts, and Seonghwa hasn’t even realised they’ve stopped in the middle of the street until Yeosang snaps him out of it. “Let us help you. Let us take care of you too.”
Seonghwa, still whirling a little from his spiraling thoughts, from snapping back suddenly to reality, takes a moment.
“When everyone has finished their exams,” Seonghwa says, because he knows he has to agree to Yeosang, but this compromise means he gets a couple of more days.
He doesn’t know how he’s going to fix this in two days. He’s got a double shift tomorrow, an evening shift the following. His only relief might be the other double shift the day after that, where he can avoid the topic - but his days will be quick to run out, and it’ll be hard to escape when they’re all home without exams.
Yeosang’s eyes narrow, but they both know it’ll be best to wait until everyone’s done with exams to address this properly.
Seonghwa purposely pushes down his dread, trying to remember the happiness he felt not too long ago, watching Yeosang’s stress melt away without exams and with food.
“Come on,” he says, tugging at Yeosang’s hand to get him moving. “Let’s go get some ice-cream.”
Yeosang decides to let his concerns rest for the moment, but Seonghwa knows they’ll appear all too soon again.
Thankfully, they both focus on the ice-cream, and Seonghwa lets himself take the moment of relief while he has it.
When Hongjoong finishes his final exam, he’s greeted with all seven boyfriends waiting for him.
It’s pure luck that they’re all available for the next couple of hours. Seonghwa and San both have evening shifts later, but it’s more than enough time for Seonghwa to take them all to one of their favourite local restaurants.
They’re loud and excited now that all of them have properly finished their exams, and thankfully the staff seem more endeared by it than anything. The restaurant isn’t busy, currently between lunch and dinner, and Seonghwa only has to quieten the group a couple of times.
San’s doing his best to steal the food off Yeosang’s plate, who pushes him away enough times that San eventually turns to Seonghwa, who just sighs and moves his plate closer to San. During this, Hongjoong’s focus is on his phone, a worried expression across his face, and Seonghwa notices.
Seonghwa reaches out a hand, brushing it against Hongjoong’s to get his attention. “What’s going on?”
Hongjoong flips his phone over in his hands, voice quiet as he speaks. “Eden has asked me to come in later tonight to talk.”
Seonghwa knows Hongjoong holds Eden’s opinion in high-regard, that he’s working to impress him constantly. He also knows that Hongjoong has been putting everything into his work, that there’s no way Eden isn’t impressed with him.
“Don’t worry about it,” Seonghwa reassures, properly grabbing his hand to hold. “If it’s not him praising all your hard work and appreciating it, if it’s somehow bad news, then you’ll find someone that appreciates your work. It’ll be okay, Hongjoong-ah. It’ll work out.”
That’s their biggest stress together, as the two eldest: that things won’t work out, that they’ll be stuck, unable to help everyone. That things will fall apart, and it’ll be their fault for it all.
Hongjoong breathes a sigh of relief, Seonghwa’s words easing up his stress a little. He knows the worry of it won’t leave completely, but Hongjoong does his best to try and focus on the happier atmosphere around him, to not let the others in on his concern.
Seonghwa gets up to pay first before any of them properly notice. It’s a noticeable dent in his personal account, but he’s picked up a couple more shifts in the next week to try and make up for it.
Just another week of this. That’s all.
Seonghwa, San and Hongjoong head home together, the others staying out a little longer with the pressing guilt of having to study no longer upon them.
San’s between them, holding both their hands and swinging them back and forth. There’s a pressure building in Seonghwa’s chest, worry starting to creep in.
Yeosang’s words are ringing in his ears - that everyone is concerned about his shifts, and has an idea his wings aren’t in the best state. He didn’t think they’d bring it up when they were all together, their energy too happy and bright to be brought down with something serious like that.
But now San’s glancing at him, looking like he wants to say something, and Seonghwa carefully shakes his head in warning not to. Hongjoong’s already stressed with his upcoming meeting, and Seonghwa doesn’t want to add to it.
San’s mouth twists, but thankfully he doesn’t bring it up, and the walk home is filled with light conversation instead.
Once home, Seonghwa is careful to make sure he gets changed with privacy, that no one can walk in as he changes shirts. His wings are in such a state that they’re protesting the binding, sharp pains spiking whenever he shifts too much, but taking them out now is ultimately more painful.
He can’t stretch them out anymore - won’t get that far before he’s crippled with pain, unable to breathe properly through it.
He knows he’ll have to. Knows he has to fix this all soon, but he doesn’t have the time today.
Hurrying to get to his shift, he passes Hongjoong sitting on the couch, wrapping his arms around him from behind and kissing his hair. “It’ll be fine, Joongie.”
Hongjoong’s hands come up to grip Seonghwa’s arms, and he feels Hongjoong take a deep breath beneath his hold.
“I’ll wait up for you,” Hongjoong tells him, head tilting back so he can look at Seonghwa.
Seonghwa smiles down at him. “If you’re tired, don’t worry about it.”
Hongjoong shakes his head a little. “We haven’t fallen asleep together in a while, Hwa.” Then, quieter, vulnerable in a way he rarely ever is. “I miss you.”
Seonghwa ducks his head down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, forcefully pushing down the guilt that’s rising again. “I miss you too.”
Hongjoong keeps a tight hold of his arms, not letting him go until Seonghwa relents and kisses him again. “I love you,” he tells Seonghwa, who hums happily in reply, kissing him again before repeating the same.
San walks out, and though he’s leaving a little later than Seonghwa, he catches Seonghwa at the door with a kiss, and both of them wish each other a good shift.
For the whole shift, he feels uneasy. Frazzled.
Like he’s on the edge of something, knowing there's a fall waiting to happen.
On his break he checks his phone, seeing the messages waiting for him in their group chat. All those that stayed out got some patbingsu to share, a stream of photos of each other being spammed in the chat.
He sends an encouraging sticker to Hongjoong, though the other doesn’t open it by the time Seonghwa’s break finishes.
When Seonghwa checks it again, at the end of his shift, Hongjoong has seen it but hasn’t replied. He frowns a little at his phone, as usually Hongjoong replies in one form or another, and now he’s worried that the conversation with Eden really didn’t go well.
Which means Hongjoong will be upset and stressed, which means Seonghwa will pick up more work just to make sure Hongjoong doesn’t feel so stressed, and - it’ll be okay. Eventually. It just might take some time.
Seonghwa goes to leave work, shutting the door behind him, and is met with Hongjoong waiting for him.
Seonghwa takes a moment to try and judge Hongjoong’s state, already worked up in thinking that Hongjoong will be upset.
But Hongjoong is smiling widely, looking relieved and happy, and Seonghwa relaxes with relief. Satisfied that Hongjoong is happy, he finds himself pleasantly surprised that Hongjoong has come to pick him up from his shift.
He opens his arms, and Hongjoong falls easily into them. He doesn’t press himself too hard against Seonghwa with his wings bound, but his hold is secure.
“It went well?” Seonghwa guesses, and Hongjoong looks up from where he’s pressed himself against Seonghwa’s front.
“Really well,” he exclaims, melting in Seonghwa’s arms. “They wanted to wait until I finished my exams to tell me. I’ve been offered a full-time position as a producer for the studio, and they’re considering opening a permanent spot for Jongho to become a vocalist to help with guides and backing tracks.”
Seonghwa, who had prepared to hear the worst, who prepared to do everything he could to try and keep them afloat, finds himself feeling so, so light. So proud of Hongjoong and Jongho, overjoyed that their talents are recognised.
“Baby,” Seonghwa breathes out, and he can hear just how the adoration leaks from his tone. He can’t say anymore, choked up - the relief, the pride, everything washing over him in that moment.
It’s been a really, really tough couple of weeks. All of them have been so stressed, overworked, overwhelmed.
And this - this is what Hongjoong’s been working for all this time, beyond just these past few weeks. To have his hard work appreciated, to finally get recognised as the amazing producer he is with his internship - and to finally be offered a secure full-time position, his dream, it is amazing.
Hongjoong’s giggling in delight with him, cooing as he wipes the tears falling from Seonghwa’s eyes. Seonghwa can see Hongjoong’s eyes are watery too, can see everything reflected in them.
They both know what a relief this will be for all of them, how much this will help them. Financially they’ll be a lot more secure, able to provide more - all the things they feel responsible for as the two eldest.
And Hongjoong will be so much happier, finally working in a position he’s been striving so hard for. Seonghwa is so unbelievably happy and proud.
Seonghwa shuffles them a little, just out of view of his workplace, before cupping Hongjoong’s face and pulling him in for a kiss.
It’s a little indecent to be doing this out on the street, to let himself be lost in the happiness and the pride, to only have his attention completely on Hongjoong, but right now Seonghwa doesn’t care in the slightest.
They miss the bus, and the one after, too wrapped up in each other. There’s a point where they’re no longer kissing - just have each other in their arms, rocking back and forth, letting all the emotions wash over them. All the stress of the past few weeks to finally be washed away, for all of Hongjoong’s hard work to be rewarded.
When they finally collect themselves and manage to get a bus, they sit at the back and keep their fingers interlocked, unwilling to let go of each other.
Seonghwa has really, really missed Hongjoong.
Hongjoong’s head has settled on Seonghwa’s shoulder, his other hand reaching across and drawing gentle patterns onto Seonghwa’s knee.
Hongjoong tenses a little under him suddenly, and Seonghwa pays attention to the way Hongjoong is purposely trying to even out his breathing, working up to saying something. He braces himself, already suspecting what Hongjoong wants to say.
“Thank you for doing so much for us,” Hongjoong says, quietly - a conversation too private for a bus, maybe, but this way Seonghwa can’t escape it either.
“We all work hard,” Seonghwa mutters back, and Hongjoong’s head shakes a little on his shoulder.
“We do. But these past weeks you’ve really picked up a lot, and I’m sorry we couldn’t help out more,” Hongjoong pushes on, and Seonghwa sighs.
“The others have already brought this up, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa is soft with his scolding. It’s a warning that he doesn’t want this topic pushed at again. “I don’t want any of you to feel bad, or to worry for me.”
Hongjoong exhales heavily, something frustrated, and Seonghwa scrambles to try and get the conversation to be left alone.
Hongjoong gets in before him, sitting up properly now, gaze burning into Seonghwa. Seonghwa does not look at him.
“I know you don’t want us to be, Seonghwa-yah. I know you don’t want us to worry, but that’s not fair to you.” Hongjoong is clearly frustrated, tone harsh as he speaks, matching Seonghwa’s scolding. “It’s not fair to us, either.”
It’s clear he has more to say, but Seonghwa clenches his hand that’s holding Hongjoong’s, turning to meet his eyes. His best chance is to de-escalate, to divert Hongjoong away from talking about it.
“Hongjoong-ah, let’s talk about this another time, okay? Not tonight. Not when we should be happy,” he says, as gently as he can.
And Seonghwa can see it in Hongjoong’s eyes - the frustration there, the worry, the stress.
It’s his fault, he knows. Knows Hongjoong will be blaming himself after the other’s told him about his wings, blaming himself for not seeing it, for not checking in on Seonghwa more - when it’s not even his responsibility to.
Seonghwa should be able to handle this himself. Should be able to manage his stupid wings on his own.
“Seonghwa-”
“Later, Hongjoong-ah. Let’s not ruin the good mood, okay? You still need to tell the others right?” Seonghwa cuts him off, desperate now to stop Hongjoong.
Hongjoong’s eyes narrow, but he takes a deep breath and settles back, nodding. Agreeing for the moment - but there’s no promise of how much time Seonghwa has now, of how much longer he can hide everything.
This is the edge, he thinks. This is the start of the fall he has been bracing for.
Hongjoong doesn’t say anything else to him on their way home, and they walk in silence to the door. They’re still holding hands, but Seonghwa almost wishes for some distance, for an opportunity to slip away and avoid what’s coming.
San’s shift was short tonight, ending a couple of hours before his, and he’s the one to greet them at the door. They all seem to sense Hongjoong wants to talk, gathering around their couch.
When Hongjoong breaks the news of being offered the job, he’s suddenly being wrestled to the ground in multiple hugs, all of them jumping on him to congratulate him.
Mingi declares that the celebrations deserve alcohol, and all of them quickly are on board.
“It’s a bit late tonight,” Hongjoong says, but it doesn’t dismiss any future celebrations and they all know it. They all cheer, all of them trying to line up schedules for a free night.
Seonghwa, naturally, is the only one working while the rest are free. He waves them off, doing his best to smile. “It’s okay, you guys can go and drink, I’ll join after my shift.”
“No you won’t,” Wooyoung argues, and though he’s a little miffed he’s been called out, unfortunately he knows it’s true.
“It’s okay, you guys are the ones that had the exams, so you should celebrate together. We can all drink together another time,” he dismisses, standing up from his spot on the couch.
“Hyung,” Wooyoung goes to say, and Seonghwa shakes his head.
“Hyung is tired,” he declares, knowing that he’s purposely pointing out his title as the hyung. He doesn’t ever like using his place as the eldest to ever leverage himself, but he’s worn down and tired tonight. “Please, organise your celebration together, okay?”
He heads off to his room, needing to get a change of clothes to bring with him to the shower.
Hongjoong follows, shutting the door behind him, purposely shutting Seonghwa in their room.
“Hongjoong-ah.” Seonghwa feels exhausted. He doesn’t want to fight, to fall right now. “I’m going to shower. Please, let’s not do this tonight, not when you should be out there and happy and festive with everyone.”
“Like you aren’t part of everyone? Like you shouldn’t be out there as well, with us, being happy?”
Seonghwa knows he’s not going to get far, knows that Hongjoong isn’t going to let him out to shower until he’s done with the conversation. He sits on the edge of the bed, clothes folded on his lap.
“I’m taking a shower and going to bed, because I’m tired-"
“You’re always tired, Seonghwa-yah! You’ve been working too much when you shouldn’t be, not when-” Hongjoong breaks himself off, eyes wide as he seems to realise what he’s about to say, stopping before he can.
“When what, Hongjoong-ah?” Seonghwa presses, because if Hongjoong holds back then it’s just going to take that much longer to get to the shower.
There’s no convincing Hongjoong to drop it, not now. Which makes Seonghwa feel worse, because Hongjoong should be out there, celebrating his achievement, his hard work - not in here, trying to confront Seonghwa for all his faults, for all the things he’s managed to screw up.
“When you’re like this, Seonghwa. Putting yourself through all this, not even having time for yourself. That’s not healthy, Hwa. We always said we’d put health first, no matter what. We all promised each other.”
But the boys are worth everything. Seonghwa will do anything for them - putting his own well-being second, to make sure the others don’t have to stress as much.
Seonghwa runs a hand through his hair, agitated. Feeling like the fall is properly starting now, the world spinning too quickly, slipping out of his control. “I’m doing okay, Hongjoong-ah.”
“Fuck, Seonghwa! Stop lying to us! Because you haven’t let any of us see your wings, not for the past couple of weeks at least.” Hongjoong’s words are a harsh explosion, surprising both of them.
Hongjoong takes a moment to calm a little, but his anger is still clearly there. His eyes narrow, arms folding as he stares at Seonghwa. “You haven’t been stretching them around here, haven’t been letting them rest. The amount you’re binding them for work alone isn’t safe, but you haven’t been letting them out between shifts either, have you?”
Seonghwa puts the clothes onto the bed beside him, taking away the urge to clench them in his hands. Instead he places his hands carefully on his lap, careful not to show just how much he wants to hide away right now.
“They’re my wings, Joongie.”
He spits the words out, and realises he hasn’t properly watched his tone. Because he can hear the anger, the hatred and resentment that’s been building because of them, and knows Hongjoong hears it too.
Hongjoong’s stance suddenly shifts, arms unfolding, mouth open a little as he seems to work through the words. Seonghwa wants to take it all back, to scrub the words clean, but it’s no use now.
Hongjoong’s already heard everything, everything Seonghwa tried to hide, and there’s no use trying to cover it anymore.
He’s still, frozen, watching warily as Hongjoong walks slowly over to him. He diverts his eyes to the side when Hongjoong is in his reach, no longer able to keep eye-contact with him.
Hongjoong’s knees bend, and he lowers himself onto the back of his heels. His hands come up to cover Seonghwa’s, carefully prying them apart so that he can hold them.
It’s silent, for a couple moments. Seonghwa doesn’t know what to prepare for, what to expect. The disappointment, maybe? That Seonghwa wasn’t even able to look after himself, so how could he expect to do a good enough job for the rest of them?
He knows he’s projecting, that Hongjoong would never even think that, but he’s so tired he can’t push it from his mind.
“I’m so sorry, baby. We really messed up, didn’t we?” Hongjoong’s voice is suspiciously thick, and Seonghwa snaps his attention to Hongjoong’s face immediately, shocked to see Hongjoong’s watery eyes.
So different now, in their reason to before. Before they were both overwhelmingly happy, relieved - but now Seonghwa messed it up, is making Hongjoong cry because he’s upset and worried.
“We’ve been busy, but that’s no excuse. Nothing is more important than each other, nothing. You’ve been looking out for us, and we should’ve been looking out for you too,” Hongjoong whispers.
Seonghwa shakes his head, trying to push back his own tears. “You shouldn’t have to.”
Hongjoong tuts at him. “That’s what we do as boyfriends, Hwa. We look out for and support each other. It doesn’t matter if you’re the oldest of us all, it doesn’t mean you don’t need that support too.”
But Seonghwa asks for more, doesn’t he, than most? His wings are too much to handle, more than what most would expect to deal with.
Hongjoong seems to realise where his thoughts are, frowning now, hands tightening in their grip. “Baby, listen to me. Your wings aren’t a burden to us. We love you, which means we love them. I don’t think you realise just how much we treasure how much you trust us with your wings, how special they are.”
Seonghwa closes his eyes, the tears blurring his vision too much. It lets a couple escape, and he bites his lip for a moment to try and focus on controlling himself.
They want to help, but Seonghwa has pushed them away so much - and his wings are in such a state he can’t even bear to look at them now.
“No matter what you think, Hwa, what you’ve convinced yourself we think - don’t. Don’t. It’s upsetting seeing you hide yourself like this. To try and constrain your wings down like this, to hide them away so we don’t see them.”
The words twist up in Seonghwa’s throat, a sob escaping as control slips through his fingers. Hongjoong lets go of one of his hands to reach up and brush away Seonghwa’s tears.
“They’re so-” Seonghwa chokes on his words, trying to hold them back for a moment. If he says it, then it’s real, it’s out there for Hongjoong to properly start to understand. But they tumble forth anyway. “They’re a mess. They’re awful, Joong-ah. I don’t think I can fly anymore. I don’t think they can be helped now.”
It’s something he hasn’t let himself think about, hasn’t properly let himself realise it - but he does, now that he’s said it. He’s been telling himself he’ll deal with them later, always later. He’ll sort them out, he’ll properly groom them, he’ll stretch them and care for them.
Later, later, later.
And now it’s too late, and they’ve gone too long, and Seonghwa doesn’t think there’s any coming back from this.
Hongjoong sucks in a sharp breath, the words hitting him. Hongjoong’s hand stills for a moment, but then moves to tuck under his chin, trying to get his attention, to make Seonghwa look at him.
“Hey. Baby, it’s okay. Sh, hey. They probably just need some time and some other help, okay? We can have a proper look, will you show me?” Hongjoong is so gentle, so caring, careful with his question.
And Seonghwa could shake his head, but he knows Hongjoong will make him agree that if he’s not showing them, then he needs to show someone.
Won’t let this go until Seonghwa gets this seen to - probably by someone in the medical field, where Seonghwa will have to explain everything to someone else, to show someone else just how bad he is at managing his own wings.
And he’s told Hongjoong already what he fears most, has warned him about the state they’re in.
But he’s scared. Scared to have Hongjoong see them, scared to finally let them out - for the pain he’s about to have to experience. Scared about how he’s going to have to deal with them now, scared about how much patience and support he’s asking of the others.
Too much, always too goddamn much.
But Hongjoong’s asking him to trust them, assuring him they want to help, and Seonghwa knows he needs to believe him.
Seonghwa finally nods, and Hongjoong reaches up to press a kiss to his temple.
He maneuvers to help Seonghwa strip off his shirt. It’s something they’ve done plenty of times before, in different contexts. But Seonghwa’s never quite felt this vulnerable before.
He wants to cover himself immediately, arms immediately going to cover the worst of the exposed parts outside the binder. Hongjoong is slow, gentle as he guides Seonghwa’s hands away.
Hongjoong’s reassuring him, whispering encouragements to him, telling him it’s okay, it’s okay, I know it’s scary, I know.
His fingers work at the binder, carefully undoing it. Seonghwa sucks in a breath as the pressure eases away, as his wings start to ache even more as they take their own weight, as they start trying to naturally unfurl but no longer being used to being unrestrained.
Hongjoong makes an upsetting noise, and Seonghwa makes himself look properly at Hongjoong’s face as he’s got his attention on his wings. Tells himself harshly that he’s done this. You’ve done this, you’ve made him this upset because you can’t look after yourself.
Hongjoong’s fingers reach out for the feathers, but Seonghwa finds himself flinching back from it, phantom pains already echoing, knowing how badly it’s going to hurt to be touched. They’re sensitive, aching, all too painful.
“Please don’t,” Seonghwa rasps out, getting the words out through his gritted teeth. He’s let go of Hongjoong to grab at the edge of the bed, digging his fingers in as his wings start to stretch out a little more. “Just…”
Hongjoong hushes him softly, moving so that he’s got one hand stroking calmly through Seonghwa’s hair as he presses comforting kisses to his face. “Sorry, sorry. I won’t touch, it’s okay, just try and stretch them out for me.”
The other hand moves to rub up and down one of his arms, trying to distract him, to soothe him from the aches and pains. He’s biting down on his lip, trying to stop the cries escaping as his wings start to stretch further, more than he’s let them in - days. Weeks, now, probably.
Finally, they start to settle into their usual resting stance. There’s a bit of weight pressing down into the bed, unable to support it himself right now, but it’s the most natural they’ve been in a while.
Hongjoong moves back, but Seonghwa keeps his eyes shut from when he scrunched them together in pain. He doesn’t want to see his wings, to see how bad they are now. He knows less feathers have fallen out, less raining down around them - that most of the ones that do have fallen out already.
Still, he can sense them fluttering, landing on him from where he’s shifted his wings. Hongjoong sounds like he’s trying to stop any further noises of upset, purposely keeping his breathing even, which gives away just how upsetting the sight is.
“Shit, Seongie,” Hongjoong quietly whispers, the nickname a rare one between them - only for special occasions. Or, apparently, when Seonghwa’s falling apart. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Seonghwa shakes his head, knowing he won’t be able to say anything now. The aches are still striking, and he’s trying to make sure no noises of pain escape in front of Hongjoong.
Hongjoong seems to be moving around the room, inspecting his wings from different angles. Seonghwa wouldn’t be able to stop him even if he tried - thinks if he tried to stand, he wouldn’t be able to balance, to hold his own weight from his wings.
“A mess,” Seonghwa is finally able to say, and Hongjoong makes a hurt noise. He listens out for Hongjoong’s movements, figuring the other is crouching before him again.
Hongjoong makes him open his eyes by cupping his cheeks. He refuses to let his gaze stray off Hongjoong, to see the wings out the corner of his eyes.
“One we can fix, I promise. We should - we should go get this checked, Hwa, medically, just to be sure. But I’m pretty sure it’s like I said, they need time to heal, to be left to stretch and rest on their own. We can groom the feathers left, let them make way for new feathers, treat it like a moult.”
Seonghwa’s heart feels like it’s going to sink to the bottom of his chest, like it’s going to finally give up and just collapse under all the strain. He doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to deal with touching his wings, the delicate feathers.
How he’s going to deal with the other’s seeing the fully exposed state of his wings.
“The sooner we start with it all, the sooner they heal,” Hongjoong tells him. “Once the worst is over, it’ll get better.”
Seonghwa knows what the worst is. The others seeing him, having to help him with his wings.
But Hongjoong’s right - Seonghwa knows the pressure that has been weighing him down the past couple of weeks will begin to ease, no longer stressed about not being able to cope with his wings on his own.
The sooner they start to manage them properly, the overwhelming feeling will begin to ease - no longer repeating a cycle of losing feathers because he’s stressed, then stressing because he’s losing them.
There’s an unspoken agreement between them, Hongjoong understanding what Seonghwa wants. Hongjoong moves slowly, carefully, and Seonghwa makes sure to hold himself still, to not flinch away from the touch, staring intently down at the ground in front of him.
Hongjoong’s fingers barely brush over the feathers, skimming over the top of his wings. Despite how light his touch is, it feels like he’s pressing down into a bruise, and Seonghwa winces.
Hongjoong makes a sympathetic hum, but his fingers continue along their path. Seonghwa can only stand it for a few more moments, trying to tell himself to just bear with it, but he finds himself pulling away, the tenderness and sensitivity of his wings too much right now.
Immediately, Hongjoong’s hand retreats, apologising. Seonghwa takes a deep breath, bracing himself, before lifting his gaze from the floor and finally looking to the side, seeing his wings.
The feathers that remain are dishevelled, and clearly reflect his state of distress with their dull appearance. It’s a pitiful view, and Seonghwa’s sight is covered by tears building up.
He ducks his head down, but Hongjoong catches his reaction, quickly moving to stand between Seonghwa’s legs. He pulls Seonghwa’s head towards his chest and soothes him, patting down the back of his head as Seonghwa starts to cry.
It’s been building a while, and there’s little he can do to stop the flood once it starts. It turns quickly into awful, heaving sobs, and there’s no point trying to wipe his tears when they seem endless.
He presses himself into Hongjoong’s front, wrapping his arms around Hongjoong’s waist and holding on, letting himself feel a little more grounded as he cries.
He’s tired. Exhausted. But maybe - now in Hongjoong’s arms, the other soothing him with promises to make it better, a little less overwhelmed by it all.
“We’ll let them rest a little now, but we really should groom them through before you go to sleep, and wash them down properly too,” Hongjoong’s telling him, and Seonghwa has many things he wants to say in response, but nothing makes it past his lips.
He’s so tired. He just wants to sleep without doing any of it, to sleep for a while and not have to worry, not have to face the pain he knows that grooming and the washing will bring.
He does his best to shake his head to signal his disagreement, but Hongjoong sighs, bending down to press a kiss to his head. “I know, it’s going to suck. But it’ll be better once we do it, right?”
When Seonghwa’s crying begins to ease, tears finally beginning to stop, Hongjoong double checks with him before his fingers run over one of Seonghwa’s wings again.
It’s not as painful now, not as sensitive as they’ve begun to relax in their position without being bound. The feathers ache, but it’s not unbearable like it was before.
“It’ll be faster if the others help,” Hongjoong suggests. “But if it’s too much, that’s okay.”
Seonghwa argues with himself. He just wants to sleep as soon as possible, to get this over with, to not take up any more on Hongjoong’s time than he needs to.
He also knows that it might be easier to bring the others in now, getting the worst of it out the way, so they know what they’re dealing with now.
“They will want to help,” Hongjoong suddenly continues, once again already knowing where Seonghwa’s thoughts are likely to head. “That’s not an issue for them, you know that.”
Without letting himself think any more about it, tired of the arguments in his mind, he agrees to it. Hongjoong’s hands smooth down his hair, tracing a pattern down the side of his neck, resting on his shoulders. He guides Seonghwa back a little, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
“I’ll go get them now, okay? I’ll explain it to them, if you want,” he offers, and Seonghwa nods, because he knows he won’t have the words for them.
Hongjoong presses another kiss to his lips, wipes at his cheeks, and steps away. He shuts the door gently behind him, giving Seonghwa one last encouraging glance and soft smile before he does.
Seonghwa knows he can’t really hide the evidence he’s been crying, but he does his best to wipe his tears, to smooth down his features as much as he can.
It feels like too much time left alone, yet not enough to ever prepare himself. He tries to tell himself to be ready to face any reaction, that this is the worst bit - that after, everything will start to be a little bit closer to being okay again.
There’s a soft knock at the door, and his heart feels like it’s going to explode out of his chest.
He’s not ready, not at all. The door opens slowly, Hongjoong’s head peeking in first, giving him a reassuring smile despite the very tense, nervous atmosphere.
He steps in, and the others follow in a solemn line.
The moment they see his wings, Seonghwa sees all the emotions cross their faces. Even though Hongjoong’s told them, the pure shock at seeing his wings means they don’t have the focus to hide the other expressions fast enough. The heartbreak, the regret, the sadness.
It’s silent, until finally San breaks it with a soft, sad, heart-wrenching “oh, hyung,” that breaks in the middle.
Seonghwa tries to push down his tears again, but they slip through regardless. Before him, his boyfriends show all their heartbreak - but all their love, too. All their support, their desire to help, to make this better.
They move to crowd around him. Some sit on the bed behind him, some stand beside the bed, and the remaining crouch down on the ground in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa whispers, and all of them move a little bit closer, hushing him gently, responding with their own apologies, with promises they’ll make this better, that it’ll be okay.
There’s a moment where they all hesitate. Hongjoong’s told them what they need to do - to help him with grooming, to sort out the feathers and help stretch out his wings, but they all pause before they start.
Overwhelmed, probably. Not knowing where to begin, how to fix this - emotions Seonghwa is very familiar with.
Hongjoong’s the first to reach out, brushing over the same spot as before, and Seonghwa forcibly makes himself take a breath to try and relax. The others follow his lead - those more familiar with grooming taking to his wings, like San and Wooyoung.
The others comfort him, distracting him with soothing words or touches. His wings feel over-sensitive, too sore, but he bites down on his lip and endures it.
This is the worst of it.
It’ll get better. Soon. He just needs to get through this - and he will.
It takes a while, an awful amount of time where there’s just fingers running over tender spots, pains lacing through his wings as they gently comb over sore areas. Feathers are dislodged, falling around them.
But the feathers remain feel so, so much better once they’re properly brushed through.
But turns out Seonghwa failed to realise the worst part of this has yet to happen. He starts to figure it out when Mingi and Yunho pry open his hands, clenched on the bed again, and squeeze comfortingly.
Hands have settled on the tips of his wings - Hongjoong and San at each one, and Seonghwa realises it the moment right before they start to gently coax the wings to stretch out.
He’d be worried he’s crushing the hands in his grip if he had the thoughts to spare. Pain floods through his wings, into his spine, everything starting to ache as the wings begin to spread.
He knows there’s tears, that someone’s telling him to breathe through it, come on, deep breaths hyung.
He’s breathing heavily by the time he can think and feel beyond the pain. He’s hunched over, as much as he can be with someone trying to hold him up.
His wings are twitching, sending aftershocks of pain, but he tries to focus on breathing through it. On getting used to his wings being stretched out so far - not their full extent, not yet, but more than they have been in so long.
Yeosang steps back into the room at one point - Seonghwa didn’t even notice he left with everything going on. Seonghwa’s able to sit a little more upright on his own now, and Yeosang walks over to Hongjoong and they whisper between themselves.
Hongjoong and San gently let his wings rest back in their normal state, and the relief is immense. They certainly feel much, much better, but Seonghwa would rather not go through that again so soon.
The others begin to move around, all moving together with some kind of plan. They’re all giving him little, soft kisses, and then suddenly Hongjoong is before him. Hongjoong grabs hold of his hands, pulling him up suddenly.
“Come on, let’s go shower,” he encourages, and Seonghwa tries to say he can’t.
Hongjoong does not give him the option, forcibly leading him to the bathroom. Yunho is right behind them, holding Seonghwa’s change of clothes.
Seonghwa can’t even spare the energy to be any more embarrassed as Hongjoong helps him out of his pants, undressing him so he can get in the shower.
Hongjoong and Yunho undress as well. Yunho’s the one to help him in the shower, a little more stronger and secure at holding up Seonghwa’s weight - he feels so unbalanced with the full weight of his wings on his back now, barely able to keep himself upright without the support.
They do their best to keep Seonghwa on his feet, but the exhaustion is truly taking its toll, and they carefully let him sink to the ground. They’re still able to comb through his wings with a bit of maneuvering, washing them through gently.
They’ve eased the pressure of the water, but it almost feels too harsh regardless. Yunho’s humming, keeping him distracted as Hongjoong massages through the feathers.
“We’ve booked an appointment tomorrow with a specialist, during their quiet hours. Until that appointment, you are going to sleep in and not worry about work, or about looking after us,” Hongjoong tells him.
Seonghwa frowns, mind sluggishly working, but coming to an alarming realisation soon enough. “I have work tomorrow, Joongie.”
“Yeosang cancelled it already. You’ve got sick days, Hwa, you need to learn to use them. And I suspect medical rest soon enough as well,” Hongjoong replies, and Seonghwa feels his worry start up all over again.
Yunho soothes him quickly, sensing his unrest. “Hyung, we’ve got enough to be okay in the shared account, plus our own personal ones. Enough that you can take a bit of a break and let us look after you right now.”
“Plus, I forgot to mention that Eden’s giving me some of the royalties for something I helped produce, so that’s a bit of a bonus,” Hongjoong sounds sheepish, and Seonghwa turns to face him as best as he can.
“You should keep it for yourself,” Seonghwa argues, but Hongjoong pulls a face at him. He knows what Hongjoong wants to say - how easily that argument can be thrown back at him, if Hongjoong just points out all the money he’s spent on them.
“I want this to go to everyone,” Hongjoong answers instead, and Seonghwa knows he can’t say anything against it. He sighs, but ultimately lets it go.
His wings still ache, but he’s starting to feel more relaxed now, dozing off a little in the shower. He stirs a little when the water shuts off, but the two seem intent on keeping him as relaxed as possible, drying him off as best they can.
His feathers usually take a bit of time to dry, but with less of them it won’t need a drastic length of time. Hongjoong has him sit down on the bathroom floor, Yunho grabbing a spare pillow they have and placing it under him, and he turns on their hairdryer and gets to work.
Yunho attempts to get his pants on while Seonghwa’s feeling pretty boneless, limbs no longer responding to help - melting under their care, as well as the pure exhaustion that is now very much threatening him with sleep.
He’s pretty sure he’s already half asleep, not even able to really register as Hongjoong finishes up, hairdryer clicking off. He gets a glimpse of his wings - already looking much better, certainly healthier and shinier than they were with just a bit of care.
He’s helped into the bedroom, where the feathers have been cleared away, and the others are sitting around. There’s not enough space on the bed for them all, so they’ve set out their sleeping gear around the floor.
“Sleepover in the hyung’s room!” Mingi declares, and Hongjoong shushes him with Seonghwa in his arms. Seonghwa blinks blearily at him, doing his best to smile.
“I miss my favourite blanket,” Wooyoung grumbles, though he’s not truly annoyed. “Hyung, you better do your best to get better quickly, you have lots of cuddles to make up for!”
“Of course, Woo-ah,” he replies as best as he can, yawning through the words.
He’s not much help as he’s helped into bed, carefully placed on his stomach, wings naturally lying over him. The others all come up to give him a goodnight kiss, each of them saying “I love you” as they do so.
Hongjoong carefully makes his way into the bed, careful of Seonghwa’s wings. He’s gotten good at sleeping around - or under - them, even though it’s been a while now.
Despite the fears, the embarrassment and the guilt he’s been so heavily weighed down by, Seonghwa is only reminded of just how much he loves his boyfriends.
Of their support, of their help and gentle, patient care - all the love they openly showed him, to his wings.
He’s still embarrassed about the state of them, knows that it’ll be a while before he can look at them with pride again. It’ll be a while until they’ve properly healed, until his feathers have all grown back healthily, and it’ll be longer until - maybe, maybe when he can fly again.
But he knows he will get there, soon enough. Will have all the help and love and support he ever needs to do so, that the boys will make sure of it.
“Love all of you so much,” Seonghwa mumbles as the lights are switched off, as they all settle down. There’s a series of replies, but Seonghwa is too tired to properly discern them.
For the first time in a while, they’re all together, and Seonghwa knows it’ll get better.
He’ll get better. In the end, they’ll all be okay.