Chapter Text
If the air was awkward when Seonghwa first went down into the living room, now it’s straight up suffocating.
Before going downstairs to face their fears, Seonghwa and Hongjoong had stood inside the doorframe, tightly grasping each other’s hands. The little group that had convened at the bottom of the steps was long gone, and Seonghwa briefly wondered how the rest of that conversation had gone. Were they able to comfort Mingi, or had the short-tempered man lost his cool completely?
Though, Seonghwa guesses he isn’t one to be talking about tempers right now.
Either way, at the end of it all, Seonghwa felt conflicted. There was a part of him, some dirty, twisted piece of his soul, that truly wanted these men to suffer the way Hongjoong did. Upset, afraid, and utterly alone.
But then the more logical part of him knew he’d probably react similarly if he saw the love of his life cuddling with some stranger in their bed. He supposes his first thought wouldn’t be, “Hey, don’t worry, he’s probably an age regresser!” He’s positive they don’t even know what that is. But still. Still. His baby was hurting.
“Hwa?”
Hongjoong had tugged on Seonghwa’s hand, looking up at him with wide, fearful eyes. He may not have been Little in that moment, but a fierce need to protect him anyway shook Seonghwa to his core. He never cared much for stories about soulmates, but for a brief moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if this is how those main characters felt–overwhelmed, but willing to do anything for their partner if it kept them happy.
He’d have to sit down and have a talk with himself eventually, about what this all meant. His violent protective streak didn’t exactly come out of nowhere, but it had always terrified him, how far he knew he’d be willing to go for someone that he loved.
He just hasn’t loved anyone in a long time, so he hadn’t had to think about it anymore. But now…
“Hwa.” Hongjoong had whined that time, and Seonghwa couldn’t help the small smile that spread on his face. He’d cleared his throat.
“How do you usually gather everyone for your team meetings?” Seonghwa had asked.
“We’ll have them planned ahead of time, and the word eventually gets around the house.”
“And if it’s an emergency?”
“I’ll yell out to meet in the living room.”
“Sounds good,” Seonghwa had said with a nod.
Hongjoong had given him a curious look before he cupped a free hand around his mouth and tugged a startled Hongjoong downstairs with the other.
“Hey!” he’d shouted. “Emergency meeting downstairs, now.”
And that leads them to right now.
Everyone had made their way into the living room with varying expressions of curiosity, annoyance, and anger. Seonghwa easily ignored all of them.
Now, Seonghwa stands to the right of the couch with Hongjoong huddled up behind him. He pushes in closer, trying to make himself seem impossibly smaller than he already is. The widened eyes surrounding them allude to seemingly abnormal behavior, and Seonghwa can’t help but chuckle because this is the Hongjoong he’s known for the past two weeks. Tiny and anxious, no matter how loud and prideful he may be.
The rest of the guys are in the same positions as before, with three smushed together on the couch and Mingi snuggled against Yunho’s lap.
Hongjoong turns his body and cranes his neck to look up at Seonghwa, fear running rampant in his pretty, brown eyes. Seonghwa feels a little bad for the pure joy he feels at being the one Hongjoong seeks for comfort, but not bad enough not to take full advantage of it.
He quickly squeezes the hand he’s still holding, and easily rests the other on Hongjoong’s shoulder. He doesn’t have to look to know a couple of the others in the room tense up at seeing the contact, but, to no one’s surprise, he doesn't really care. Hongjoong smiles up at him, visibly relaxed, and that’s all that matters.
“Hongjoong hyung…” someone murmurs, and Hongjoong takes a deep breath.
“First and foremost,” Hongjoong says, “I need to get this out of the way. I am not cheating on you guys. Although I’m a little hurt that’s the conclusion you all came to, I completely understand why you did. Still, I wish…”
Hongjoong trails off, bites his lip, and sighs, shaking his head. Seonghwa assumes that’s a conversation for another time. One that he doesn’t need to be a part of.
“I just wish you’d trusted me,” Hongjoong finishes.
“It’s not that we don’t trust you, hyung,” Yeosang says. “It’s just, you’ve been acting kinda weird for a while now, so when we came home to this.” He gestures up at Seonghwa, who frowns. “We freaked out.”
Hongjoong tenses in Seonghwa’s hold before fixing everyone with a glare. “His name is Seonghwa, and he’s older than all of us. Please treat him with respect.”
Mingi scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Right. Our apologies, Seonghwa-ssi, for not giving you a proper welcome into our home.” His gaze flits from Seonghwa to Hongjoong, the already prominent frown sketched onto his face deepening. “Though it seems you’re already well acquainted.”
“Mingi—“ Hongjoong starts, but Seonghwa squeezes his shoulder, cutting him off.
“You’re right; our introduction wasn’t welcoming. It was quite memorable, though, Mingi-ssi. I can appreciate that much, at least.”
Mingi’s gaze slowly lowers to the healing scar on Seonghwa’s neck. There are conflicting emotions on his face, most Seonghwa can’t really dissect, but he does have the decency to look at least a little guilty.
When Hongjoong follows his gaze, he blows up the moment he looks at the scar again.
“What the actual fuck were you guys thinking, attacking a civilian in the first place?”
“We didn’t know—”
“If you used your heads instead of your dicks, you wouldn’t have to know. I don’t care which one of you pulled the knife, though I think I can take a pretty solid guess.” Mingi looks away. “Don’t ever let me catch you doing this kind of stupid shit again. I mean it.”
No one else looks shocked by Hongjoong’s outburst, but the amount of authority in his voice makes even Seonghwa want to stand at attention. He feels himself straighten before loosening his body again, and looks down at someone who’s no longer the meager boy he’d first met.
It makes his heart beat faster.
Seonghwa furrows his brows, pinching the side of his hip. By the time he tunes back into the conversation, Hongjoong is back to his shyer self, pressing into Seonghwa’s body.
“Before we get into the question of why Seonghwa hyung is here, let me properly introduce all of you. Hyung,” Hongjoong says, pointing around the room. “Starting with our youngest, that’s Choi Jongho. Then we have Jung Wooyoung, Song Mingi…”
Hongjoong goes around the room until Seonghwa can put a name to every face. Yeosang, San, and Jongho are civil enough to give Seonghwa curt nods when they’re introduced, and Yunho full-on smiles, but Mingi and Wooyoung huff, turning away.
“These are my boyfriends,” Hongjoong finishes. “And I love them dearly. There’s no point in trying to hide the obvious anymore, either, but we’re part of a gang.”
Some of the guys speak up in protest, but one look from Hongjoong has them shutting their mouths. And it really isn’t surprising—not to Seonghwa, at least. He’s had his suspicions, and Hongjoong isn’t as subtle as he might think.
“Guys,” Hongjoong continues, “this is Park Seonghwa. He’s been taking care of me for the past week.”
Immediately, some of them start to rise.
“Taking care of you?” Wooyoung says. “Are you okay?”
Jongho frowns. “Like a nurse? Have you been sick?”
“Baby,” Yunho murmurs, “we could have taken care of you. We would have rescheduled the mission.”
Seonghwa bites back a smile at how Hongjoong stutters for a moment at the pet name. The man clears his throat, his cheeks tinted red. “Rescheduling the mission was not an option. Who knows, the next time we could’ve gone in?”
They don’t say much after that. It’s clear they know Hongjoong is right, whatever he’s talking about.
“Besides, I wasn’t sick. It was…something else.”
Yunho clears his throat. “Then, if you weren’t sick, what did you need help with?”
Tensing, Hongjoong looks up at Seonghwa. Seonghwa smiles, nods, and whispers, “You can do this.”
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Hongjoong straightens up, facing his boyfriends. “I’malittle,” he says.”
Seonghwa can see the gears turning as they try to dissect the impossibly speedy sentence.
“Huh?” San ends up saying, face scrunched up.
“I’m…alittle.”
Wooyoung sighs. “We can’t understand you, hyung.”
“I’m a Little!”
Everyone freezes.
“A little…what?”
“No! It’s–hyung,” Hongjoong whines, turning around. He looks up, desperation pooled in his eyes, and Seonghwa nods, taking over.
“Has anyone here heard of age regression?”
Seonghwa looks around the room, each confused face contorting into even more confused faces. Yeah, he figured that would be the case.
He thinks about the best way to explain it before deciding to just read off what he’d memorized the night he learned about the term. No point in beating around the bush.
“Age regression is when someone, as the name suggests, mentally regresses to a younger age than they actually are,” he explains slowly, as if speaking to a group of children. “This can range from a few months old to a few years old. Some people even regress to their teenage years. It depends on the person, what they’re comfortable with, and what they need.”
The deeper he gets into the definition, the closer Hongjoong squeezes into his side. He grips Seonghwa’s pants, then his shirt, then his arm, and squeezes like it’s a lifeline. Seonghwa does his best not to flinch at the painful pressure because if this is what Hongjoong needs to ground himself, then he’s happy to be a stress ball.
Seonghwa keeps the details simple and non-invasive. Hongjoong age regresses. He’s around three years old. He needs a little extra help getting dressed and making food, and he loves to play with his toys and nap.
“Any questions?” Seonghwa asks.
Yeosang raises his hand, to which Seonghwa raises an eyebrow and gestures towards him.
“When did you start doing this?” Yeosang asks, shifting his gaze to Hongjoong.
Hongjoong had started to calm down towards the end of the explanation, occasionally squirming in place. He looks away from Yeosang’s questioning gaze before answering.
“The first time I did…it, was maybe six months ago?”
Everyone’s brows furrow as they clearly try to recall what happened at that time. One by one, their faces light up in recognition, then fall in despair. It’s tense, a little awkward, and kind of sad. Seonghwa’s curious, of course, but he knows it’s not his place.
Eventually, Yeosang speaks again. “That was during the Gangnam mission, wasn’t it, hyung?” His tone is soft, as if talking about some taboo family secret they’d buried long ago.
Hongjoong shudders in Seonghwa’s hold, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes,” he whispers.
It’s quiet for a moment as everyone takes the information in. To Seonghwa’s surprise, San, who’s been the quietest apart from Jongho, speaks.
“I didn’t realize you were struggling so much, hyung,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
Hongjoong’s eyes widen as he slowly untangles himself from Seonghwa’s side. “You aren’t grossed out?” he asks.
“I can’t speak for everyone else, obviously, but I can’t fault you for finding a way to cope, right?”
“I agree,” Yunho says. “We all know how hard that mission was, and we all turned to different things to cope. Whether that was physical coping—” he throws a pointed glance at San, Wooyoung, and Mingi— “or something a little more…harmful than we would have liked—” a quicker look is thrown Jongho’s way— “we all needed something to distract ourselves. I’m really glad you found something that works for you, hyung.”
Seonghwa feels Hongjoong bounce a bit by his side. He nods his head once, a silent thanks, and looks around the room.
“Any more questions?” Hongjoong asks this time, a little eager.
Seonghwa can’t help his smile. He feels his face soften at Hongjoong’s complete change in demeanor, no doubt relieved that his boyfriends are taking his secret much better than he thought they would. When he looks back up, Yunho is staring at him, but he quickly turns away when he’s caught.
“How did you meet him?” Jongho asks, gesturing towards Seonghwa.
“Ah,” Hongjoong says. “This is a bit more embarrassing than I’d like to admit. You know how I wanted to stay home this last mission?”
“You said you needed a break,” San says, nodding. “Which was understandable. You’re the only one out of all of us who hadn’t taken any time off yet.”
Hongjoong nods. “Right. Well, the truth is, I couldn’t stop slipping.”
Yunho tilts his head. “Slipping?”
“Another word for regressing,” Seonghwa provides.
“And during the Seocho mission, I slipped while we were out. It was terrifying.”
Hongjoong wraps his arms around himself. Seonghwa hadn’t heard this story yet. Joongie never really talked about himself during their time together. He just wanted to be.
“The more I found myself hiding and slipping, the more I figured it’d be safer if I stayed home for a bit. This last mission was the perfect time to do that. You all would be gone for a few weeks, and I wouldn’t have to hide anymore. But then I kept hurting myself—not on purpose!” He quickly clarifies upon seeing the looks on their faces. “It just always happened.
“I’d cut or burn myself when trying to cook, or get a stupid, nasty rash ‘cause I was always forgetting to chan—” He squeaks before he can finish, quickly cutting himself off, much to his boyfriends’ confusion.
Seonghwa chuckles to himself, but it’s loud enough that Hongjoong sends a tiny glare his way. They didn’t really have the chance to talk outside of Hongjoong’s little space, so they never brought up the whole diaper thing. Seonghwa doesn’t mind it one bit, but he understands that might be a part of himself he wants to keep a secret for now. They’ll have to chat about it later.
If he still even needs you here.
Hongjoong clears his throat and continues. “Anyway. I don’t know. One day, I just broke down. I guess when I was really…small…I made a poster and hung it up. Asking for help. Hyung found it and came over, and the rest was history.”
Seonghwa eagerly pulls up a picture of the poster on his phone, showing it around the room. He almost feels like a proud parent, showing off his kid’s priceless art piece.
“So you knew about this whole little thing before coming over?” Yeosang asks.
“Nope. I had no idea what age regression was until I met Joongie.”
“Joongie?”
“It’s what he likes to be called when he’s regressed.”
“That’s cute, hyung,” Yunho murmurs with a small smile on his face.
Hongjoong’s face reddens immediately, and he mumbles all kinds of profanities under his breath before saying something about busting Yunho’s balls, and Seonghwa grins up at the man despite himself. But looking around, Seonghwa realizes something.
Yunho is the only one smiling.
San and Yeosang look unbothered, and Jongho’s expression is unreadable. But Wooyoung looks annoyed, and Mingi looks straight-up pissed off.
Wooyoung grunts, crossing his arms. “I’m not buying that shit.”
“Wooyoung,” Yeosang murmurs in warning, but Wooyoung doesn’t back down.
“I’m sorry, but no. We’re talking about Kim Hongjoong. Our badass boyfriend. Our fucking captain. No way in hell he gets off on acting three.”
“Wooyoung.”
“No.” This time it’s Mingi who speaks up. “Wooyoung’s right. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Mingi,” Yunho says, staring down at his boyfriend in shock.
Wooyoung stands up, and Mingi follows.
“If you guys want to believe whatever bullshit those two are spewing, be my guest,” Wooyoung says. “But I’m not falling for it.”
Wooyoung starts heading toward the stairs, and Mingi turns on his heels to follow, but they don’t make it very far.
“Sit the fuck down.”
As asses immediately plop right back from where they stood, wide eyes glance around the room before staring at the booming voice still echoing against the walls.
Right at Seonghwa.
“Your boyfriend is taking the time to share the most vulnerable part of himself with you fuckers, and not only do some of you berate him, but you don’t even have the decency to listen?”
For a moment, no one else says a word. Seonghwa looks around the room, but no one makes eye contact with him. It’s as if they’re ashamed. Good.
“…don’t get off,” Hongjoong eventually whispers, so low only Seonghwa can hear.
“What was that?” Seonghwa asks. He squeezes Hongjoong’s shoulder, encouraging him to speak his mind.
“I don’t ‘get off’ on doing this,” Hongjoong says, standing up straight. “It’s not something sexual. I use it to cope. You think I enjoy this shit?”
He pulls away from Seonghwa’s grip, pacing back and forth, but stays close enough that Seonghwa can grab him again if he needs to.
“I don’t even understand what’s happening to me, so no fucking shit I wouldn’t know how to explain it to you! A-and even if I did understand, I knew you wouldn’t get it. I knew it.”
Hongjoong stops in front of Seonghwa, falling back into his ready arms. He angrily wipes away incoming tears with the backs of his fists, and the next time he speaks, his voice is wobbly, higher-pitched, and oh so anguished. “Fuck you. Fuck all of you. Y-you you’re so mean. You’re meanies!”
Hongjoong—no, Joongie yanks himself back out of Seonghwa’s hold, stomping his little feet. He screams over and over again the biggest insults he can come up with, which consists of ‘meanies,’ ‘poopy heads,’ and other…interesting variations.
As Joongie sobs into his hands, Seonghwa shushes him, leaning over and pulling him back into his arms.
“Okay, Joongie,” Seonghwa says. “Okay. It’s all right.”
Joongie wails, shaking his head and pressing himself impossibly closer into Seonghwa’s chest. He pushes his reddened face into Seonghwa’s neck, something he’s learned little Joongie does for comfort, and wraps his arms around Seonghwa’s shoulders, gripping the back of his shirt.
“You need to breathe, baby,” Seonghwa murmurs. “Can you breathe for me? Please?”
“No. H-hurts,” Joongie whines.
“What hurts, sweetheart?”
When Joongie clenches his fist above his heart, Seonghwa all but crumbles on the spot.
“Okay,” Seonghwa says. “All right. Let’s go back upstairs, yeah?”
In one swift motion, Seonghwa bends over to pick Joongie up. Joongie wraps his legs around Seonghwa’s waist, who turns to head up the stairs, but not before throwing one last glare over his shoulder.
Just moments ago, Hongjoong was excited, opening up to his boyfriends about the biggest part of himself. They were getting somewhere. But Mingi and Wooyoung had to ruin it in seconds.
Seonghwa holds back a sigh, rubbing his hand up and down Joongie's back. As the little blubbers into his shoulder, Seonghwa steps into their room, their safe space, and closes the door behind him. He shuts his eyes and sighs.
They’re back to square one.