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Seungmin doesn’t cry.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to, or anything like that. Because everyone knows that idol life can be rough sometimes, what with the constant pressure to improve and release more and show the world what he’s capable of. But that stress has been so constant in his life over the past four years that, even though it’s never something he can get used to entirely, he’s simply learned to deal with it.
The other members are the ones who struggle the most. Jisung’s anxiety never seems to let up during comeback season, and he’s often spotted fidgeting and flitting around the group every time they’re promoting. Felix obviously tries not to let it get to him, but fatigue and lack of sleep are evident in his features. Jeongin has a habit of keeping to himself whenever he gets overwhelmed, and the rest of them have learned that it’s best not to bother him when he locks himself in his room as soon as they get home.
They all have their own ways of dealing with the ups and downs of their lives, but Seungmin’s learned to internalize it. It’s taken years of trial and error, a testament to his entire life, but he would consider himself to be fairly mentally strong. He knows his limit, he knows when he’s reaching the point where he has to excuse himself for a while.
Even when he’s alone with the silence of his empty bedroom, he knows how to talk himself down from an impending breakdown. It’s just the stress of the comeback , he reassures. Don’t let it get to you. This happens every time.
You have to be strong for the others, the voice in his head reminds him, if he needed that final push. They motivate him in every sense of the word, and he’s weaseled his way into a place in the group where he’s become their rock.
He offers a shoulder to cry on, a beacon of trust and reliability in case they need a friend. He gives them space, companionable silence, or words of reassurance, whatever he knows that they need. (After four years of living together, he’d say that he knows them pretty well.)
He knows they appreciate it, even if they don’t say it directly—he’ll tolerate Felix and Jisung’s affectionate hugs, accept Minho’s thank-you meals, indulge in Jeongin’s jokes, all if it means he’ll get to see them smiling again.
(Because as much as he doesn’t like to say it directly, the seven of them mean the world to him.
He’s sure they all know it, too.)
So, Seungmin doesn’t cry. He doesn’t think any less of the members who do, but he knows that it’s just different, with him.
Everything changes, one night where they get back from work later than usual and everyone is tired enough as it is without Hyunjin and Jisung’s fighting. It starts off as mere petty bickering, something so typical of the two that Seungmin doesn’t even spare a glance at as he walks past the living room to grab a snack from the fridge. The voices get louder as he eats, though, and eventually there’s a third one that intervenes. It’s Chan, of course, because he’d noticed that something was up, and Seungmin listens from his place at the kitchen table as two frustrated voices argue with a third, placating one.
Nothing out of the usual. The younger members will deflate, apologize, and stumble off to bed. That’s always how it goes.
What he doesn’t expect is for them to get even louder . He stands up and pads lightly across the floor to poke his head into the living room, met with the familiar sight of Jisung and Hyunjin facing off with Chan in the middle, separating them. His hands are raised cautiously, defensively, and he keeps his words soft as he speaks. It doesn’t do much to help calm the others down as they ignore their leader almost entirely and continue shouting.
Seungmin keeps to the side of the room. He’s especially glad that he isn’t involved when Minho drags himself into the room and folds his arms. It looks like he’s just been interrupted from trying to sleep.
“What’s going on,” he demands icily, but those three words that make Seungmin shrink back against the wall don’t seem to affect Jisung and Hyunjin in all their heated emotions. They both start talking at the same time, not even bothering to lower their voices, and Seungmin notices as the remaining members trickle out from their rooms to investigate the commotion. Chan sees this, too, and Seungmin watches as he sighs and interrupts the bickering to avoid this growing into an even bigger conflict.
“It’s nothing,” he says. Jisung makes an outraged cry of disagreement, but Chan pays no mind. “We all just need to take a break.”
Minho nods to himself, sighing. “Go to sleep, you two. We have a day off tomorrow, you’ll feel better in the morning.”
“But, hyung-”
Minho silences him with a glare, and it’s at this point that Seungmin can tell how annoyed he really is.
A new voice enters the conversation, somewhere from the hallway to his right. “It’s your turn in the shower, Jisung.” It’s probably supposed to be helpful, but the words just irritate Hyunjin further.
“Changbin, leave it,” Chan says without even turning around. Seungmin sinks even further into the shadows of the room at the sharpness of his words. What little incentive he had to step in to break up the fight was gone now that Chan was upset. He turns his head to watch Changbin’s face, harsh in the overhead lighting of the room this late at night, as he scowls. Felix raises a hand to his shoulder, brows furrowed in concern, but Changbin only shrugs him off.
Seungmin doesn’t miss the way Felix’s expression shifts at the obvious dismissal. This is not good. This isn’t something that’s ever happened before. Chan hardly ever gets mad, but when he does, he knows how to restrain it—as the leader, this week must be getting to him especially hard. Seungmin doesn’t even want to imagine the amount of stress that they’re all under, multiplied by the factor of controlling seven bandmates and dealing with management all at the same time.
Across the room, a safe distance from Minho’s side, is Jeongin, wringing his hands anxiously. Seungmin knows he doesn’t like it when they fight, so tonight must be especially hard on him. He watches the maknae’s eyes flit across the members’ faces until they come to lock onto his own. Seungmin offers a faint smile in reassurance, but he’s sure his apprehension is reflected on his own face. Jeongin casts his glance away silently, and Seungmin lets his face drop.
Hyunjin and Jisung start yelling at each other again. Chan raises his voice, and instead of ending the situation it only seems to escalate it further. Minho steps closer and opens his mouth to speak, and all of a sudden Seungmin feels the energy drain out of him.
“Stop,” he says weakly. It goes unnoticed in the chaos, all eyes on the center of the room as their members only get louder. Seungmin lets himself slide to the floor, head hitting the wall behind him with a dull thud that underscores the cacophony.
At first, he doesn’t even realize what’s happening, doesn’t recognize the unfamiliar feeling of his vision blurring and the wetness on his cheeks until the first sob escapes him.
Strangely enough, it’s the only thing that seems to be effective to quiet the room as seven gazes fall on him, wide-eyed. The thought just makes him cry harder.
Time slows to a standstill. Seungmin doesn’t cry.
But there’s no sound in the room except for Jisung and Hyunjin’s labored breathing, and the hiccuping sobs that claw their way up out of his chest, four years of buried emotions erupting from a place deep down in his chest where he’d buried them before.
Everything rushes back to him in a single moment, and there’s hands on his arms and carding through his hair and hovering all around him as he’s surrounded by the concerned pile of idols that is his family. He buries his face in his hands. Half of him is mortified by the idea of breaking down like this, but the other half of him, the less rational half, wants nothing more than to give in and sink into the love that his members are offering.
The decision is made for him as Chan comes forward, worried and panicked, to ask, “Seungminnie? Hey, what’s wrong?”
He looks up at the seven of them, hands falling down to his lap powerlessly, and doesn’t try to stop the tears that roll down his face. There’s a collective intake of breath before everyone is talking at once, and it’s oh-so-similar to the events of just a few minutes prior that he shrinks as much as possible into the wall.
“No, no, hey, come back to us,” Chan says softly, holding up one of his hands to shush the rest of the members. The other comes up to hold the side of Seungmin’s face, thumb brushing the tear tracks off his cheeks. Seungmin takes in a shuddering breath at the gentle contact. He lets his gaze travel over the haphazard huddle that’s enveloped him, allows the concern that’s laced in his members’ eyes to wash over him in a wave of dizzying comfort.
He slumps into Chan’s arms, and his crying subsides to a few lone tears that slide down his face as familiar arms come up to pull him close. There’s another pair of arms snaking their way around his waist, and Seungmin turns his head just quickly enough to see Jeongin bury his face into the back of his shirt. He manages a choked smile at the sight, and another tear slips out of its own accord.
“Why are you crying, baby?” Chan says quietly, kindly, and Seungmin’s throat tightens at the contrast of these words to his harsh tone from before.
“I just…” He trails off in his explanation, realizing that he doesn’t even know. Something about the buildup of stress, the change to the group’s typical dynamic, the tension simmering under the surface that had finally exploded. He tries to tell them this, but words fail him and it comes out as more of a jumbled whine. Someone—Felix, maybe—makes a pained sound from behind him and ruffles his hair.
“Please, don’t fight like that again,” Seungmin manages quietly, words echoing in the room. His hair falls over his eyes as he looks down at the following silence.
Jisung is the one to crack first. “Oh, Minnie,” he says, and the pained look in his eyes makes Seungmin feel everything again. “I’m so sorry.”
Seungmin feels the tears start to flow again, shuddering in his place against Chan’s chest. The leader has to feel it, judging by the way he rubs his hands comfortingly along Seungmin’s back.
Hyunjin continues where Jisung left out, crouching to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, too,” he says sincerely, offering up a teary-eyed smile. Seungmin doesn’t know what else to say, so he just reaches both arms out and hopes Hyunjin understands.
Somehow, he ends up in a hug pile. Jeongin’s still clinging to his back like it’s the last thing he’ll ever get to do. Chan’s arms wrap around his shoulders comfortingly. He has one arm around both Hyunjin and Jisung, their heads pressed into either side of his neck. He’s probably getting tear stains on both of their shirts, but they don’t seem to mind. At some point, the others have joined in, tentatively leaning their weight on the group in the middle until Seungmin starts to feel like he’s being crushed by both the members and their overwhelming support for him.
“I can’t—hyungs, please, I can’t breathe,” he says finally, and then everything is lifted in an instant. Jeongin still clings to his hand almost unconsciously, and Seungmin smiles.
(That less rational, more emotional part of him misses the rest of the contact, but for once the rational side wins out.)
“Thank you,” he says, doing his best to direct his words to each one of them at once. There’s seven faces looking back at him with various expressions—but all of them have one thing in common.
“You know, we’re always here for you,” Minho chimes in, and it’s the first thing he’s said since the argument. “You don’t need to keep everything to yourself all the time.” Seungmin looks up at him, sees the fondness that’s usually kept locked away displayed almost boldly on his face.
“Thanks, hyung,” he says again.
“Thank you ,” Felix repeats to him. “For always being our pillar to lean on.”
“You’re so strong, Seungmin-ah,” Changbin adds.
“We just hope that we can do the same for you,” Chan finishes, and Seungmin feels his eyes start to water again. He has no control over his emotions now that the floodgates have been opened, it seems, and anything that’s even remotely sentimental has the potential to start another surge.
“We love you, hyung,” Jeongin says quietly from his side, squeezing his hand, and this time Seungmin doesn’t bother wiping the tears away. They’re happy ones now, though.
“Yeah,” he says, choking up with emotion. “I love you all, too. Thank you.”
There’s a comfortable silence that falls upon them, like no one wants to break the serenity that Seungmin’s words send through all their hearts, but eventually Chan speaks up.
“On that note, I think we all need to get some sleep,” he says sagely, earning a few nods and sheepish grins. The sight of everyone standing up to go to their respective bedrooms tugs at his heart, though, and he makes a soft and almost unintentional noise of protest.
When they all turn back to look at him, questioning, he shyly asks: “Can we all sleep out here tonight? Together?”
Seven hearts melt in his presence.
“Of course, baby,” Chan replies, gazing fondly at him.
That’s how, five minutes later, he ends up in a pile of blankets and bandmates on their living room carpet. The furniture has been shoved to the side to clear the area in the center, where the members have spread out their pillows and blankets into a disheveled place to sleep. It isn’t the most comfortable bed he’s ever been in, but the warmth of his favorite people surrounding him is enough to make up for it.
He closes his eyes, listening to the quiet sounds of breathing and shuffling all around the room. Tonight, it worked out for the best.
Seungmin doesn’t cry, but he knows that if he ever needs a shoulder to lean on… well, he has seven of them right here.