let go (i'll help you)

by merakisjournal

Summary:

Minho struggles with anxiety due to his work and Chan is willing to do just about anything for him.

Or,
Where Minho's particular headspace is triggered by his anxiety medicine and Chan loves taking care of him.

They're in love, living in an apartment in the city's busy hearts as a seller and dance coach. They don't struggle financially, mostly because Chan's managed to get himself a good position in the company. His peers often call him a senior by the way he easily catches clientele, even though he's barely been in the field for three years now. He's a software sales representative, doing product demonstrations that are scheduled and exclusive to highly technical people and leads. It's a good thing he no longer has to go back and forth to their headquarters, preferring to sell on their online platforms instead. He finds it easier to balance work and personal life that way. Minho might not know about it, but he also chose this because he knows just how stressful educational environments are. It's not like Minho needs him to be home every single time, but Chan enjoys taking care of him, anyway. 

"Rough day?" Chan lifts his head from his computer, hearing the door click behind Minho. He's wearing grey loose pants and a black hoodie that most likely smells like death. Minho himself looks like death itself, but Chan won't comment on it anymore. 

"When is it not?" Minho drops his keys on the kitchen counter, takes off his shoes and almost trips on the way to Chan. He plops himself on the couch and they kiss each other chastely. Chan runs his fingers through his hair, slick with fresh sweat and cold after being exposed to the autumn winds. "One of the kids had an accident today." 

"You keep calling them kids but they're barely three years younger than you." Minho shakes his head, trying hard not to smile. "What happened?" 

"Nothing too serious. He just fell over in one of the jumps. I keep telling them to be mindful of how they land." Minho grimaces, resting his head on Chan's chest. He's always found comfort in hearing his heartbeats, focusing on how slow and constant they were, like the ticking of a clock. "But I had to stop the class and take him to the infirmary, just in case."

"You did well." Chan nodded, caressing his arm. "Why don't you let me take care of you now, hm? We could shower together." 

Minho smiles, nuzzling his head against Chan as a sign of agreement. Chan chuckles, easily carrying his boyfriend to the bathroom as he goes quieter. Chan sits him on the lid and undresses himself quickly before getting to Minho, tilting his chin up to verify he's still with him.  

"I'll undress you now, love." Minho's brain buzzes as he lets his body go limp, closing his eyes momentarily as he feels the fabric being pulled off him with care. He chooses to draw his attention to Chan's happy humming, smiling to himself at the familiar beat while water runs in the background. "Okay, up." 

Chan sets his hands under Minho's armpits and pulls, loving how his boyfriend's so putty under his touch as he goes. He gets them both in the shower, nude bodies pressed against each other under perfect water temperature. Chan engulfs Minho entirely, holding him by the waist as he uses his other hand to drench his boyfriend's hair properly. Minho breathes in deeply, feeling his muscles untense as he lets himself go in strong arms. He's safe here, away from the outside world with only his boyfriend's company to bring him comfort. He feels the vibrations of Chan's chest against his back, opening his eyes when he realises his boyfriend isn't humming anymore, but talking to him.

"Mh?" 

"I was saying it's time for us to get a bathtub. It'll be easier that way." Chan leaves a kiss on his collarbone, sucking lightly. Minho sighs, feeling his body melt and his legs ready to give out.

"Channie."

"I know." Chan goes back to conditioning his hair. Even though his boyfriend's pressed against him, he can't help but miss his lips on his skin. Minho likes to think of them as soft pillows, entrancing and gorgeous and so like home. He tilts his head up and doesn't even have to say anything for Chan to understand and press against Minho's thin lips. Chan moves their mouths languidly, pulling Minho's hair to position him better and gain better access. Minho simply allows Chan to take, feeling his tongue against the roof of his mouth and pressing against his own, circling and leaving spit that washes away quickly. Minho's heartbeat quickens and his legs finally give out, letting out a quick gasp when Chan digs his fingertips on his hips to prevent him from falling.

"It's alright hon, I'm here." Chan says, setting Minho's unresponsive arms around his neck. Minho's head rests completely on the crook of his neck now, using the running water and Chan's breaths against his nape to lull him further into his headspace. It's quiet, and he likes it when Chan carries him like he weighs nothing. He barely processes that they're not in the bath anymore. His head is tilted downwards, watching Chan dry his body and enjoying the fluffy towel going up and down his body in a soothing way. His boyfriend is thorough with his back, making sure he rubs and presses on the parts that might hurt from his dance workouts. 

Minho can feel his heartbeat against his ears, suddenly hyper-aware of his own breathing as Chan manoeuvres him on their bed. His body flops down on the soft covers and he stays in the same position Chan leaves him as he dries himself and gets ready for bed. Minho lets himself float in the meantime, staring at the ceiling and blinking slowly to the background noise of Chan's humming. He closes his eyes when he feels the bed dip next to him, happily welcoming Chan's arms pulling him closer. 

"There, doll. You're comfortable?" Chan kisses his shoulder, then his earlobe. Minho sighs happily. "That's good. Let's get some sleep, then. You did so well today." 

Minho's fingers twitch. Chan sees it and interlaces their hands together, happy to provide for his boyfriend's needs. It doesn't take long for Minho to finally fall asleep like that, safe and sound. 

♡

They say it's got to get real bad before it gets any better, but Chan sees Minho only getting worse. He worries; it's only natural to do so when he notices just how Minho begins to struggle with feeding himself properly or getting any sleep at all. He begins to get home late, excusing it as scouting season approaches and even more students join the academy he works at, holding onto their hopes desperately to be the next big idol in the industry. Minho trains them, gives them advice and listens to their worries, going over the choreographies for them and preparing them for different casting scenarios. Chan knows Minho adores his job, but he can't ignore the way his boyfriend's health is slowly crumbling under so much pressure. 

"I have to go." Minho mumbles, but he does nothing to get up from bed. Chan kisses his forehead to ease the crease on his forehead. 

"So early?" Their voices are still groggy. The daylight hasn't even filtered through their blinds and the room is cold with winter, leaving them no choice but to bury themselves under the bed sheets and seek out each other's body temperatures. 

"I told Jisung I'd help him with an upcoming trainee. Apparently her audition is next week. She'll be paying extra for private classes." 

Minho reaches for his phone and Chan glances at the hour. It's 6:04 a.m. It does nothing to ease his mind, knowing Minho had come late from work yesterday and he'd gone to sleep barely a few hours back. 

"Are you sure you have to go?" 

Minho answers his question by sitting upright. His hair is a mess, standing in all directions. He hasn't even opened his eyes yet, pursing his lips in distress as he remains frozen. There are visible dark circles under his eyes after weeks similar to this day. Despite Chan's efforts to get Minho to call in for days off or take a small vacation, his boyfriend insists that he's not overworking and he needs the money. Chan knows it's an excuse, Minho probably knows that too. Chan could easily provide for them with how much he earns, but Minho doesn't want to be a free-loader even if Chan insists that he wouldn't be one. It doesn't help that Minho's begun to develop a habit of scratching on his forearms without him being aware of it. Chan's worried that he'll get some sort of infection or rash because of it, apart from the fact that he's gotten to the point of self-harming to cope. 

Chan rubs Minho's back, something he does to ease his boyfriend's morning anxiety. Minho smiles at him to show gratitude and gets up before he gets too comfortable.

"I think it won't be so bad, though. Jisung said she's already got the choreography memorised and she just wants us to help her out with polishing it."

Chan's been hearing that sort of thing lately, but he nods to avoid conflict. He thinks Minho's pretty much aware that despite being halfway there that he's still got so much work left to do and it'll likely take days for his new student to get it right. There's the pressure of a limited time frame and the fact that they still have to go through different evaluation types depending on which company the girl wants to audition for. 

Minho gets dressed quickly, leaving their apartment silent behind him. Chan sighs, being left with nothing much to do with a week free from meetings. He showers quickly, sending a few emails before closing his laptop and opening his phone. Since Minho's having a hard time, he browses for fun cooking recipes he might like. Chan might have little power on how Minho deals with his work, but that doesn't mean he can't spoil him as much as he can. He online shops meat, seasoning it barbecued along with greens when he receives a call from an unknown number. He picks it up, putting it on speaker as he turns off the stove.

"Hello, who is it?"

"Channie? Chan?" It is a man whose voice he doesn't recognize. He furrows his eyebrows, glancing at the phone number. 

"Yeah?" 

"I'm Jisung, Minho's boss. You know Minho hyung, right? You– you were in his emergency contacts." 

Chan feels himself blanch. He turns off the speaker as his voice trembles within his body. "Did something happen to him? Is he okay?" 

There's a beat of silence that gnaws at Chan horribly. He feels his heartbeat quicken with each second that passes. Jisung whispers something to somebody in the other line hurriedly, and Chan imagines the worst.

"He's okay. Well, he's not okay, but he will be. We're in the hospital right now, do you think–"

"Which one? I'm on my way." 

Chan leaves the food where it is, not bothering to freeze it as he grabs the keys and drives as fast as he can to the hospital. Thankfully, it's near their place and he barely takes ten minutes before he's asking for Minho in reception. The nurse gives him a reassuring smile, noticing how Chan paces around as she browses Minho's name and instructs him on how to reach the room he's at. The way there is agonising and Chan almost stumbles against a young man before he gets there, taking a few deep breaths outside room 505 in case his state somehow sets Minho off or triggers him in some type of way. He regains his breathing, closing his eyes and counting to ten before he knocks softly on the door. A man slightly taller than him opens it almost instantly, having the same dark circles Minho does, if not a bit lighter. He's slim, certainly built like a dancer with soft light brown hair and puffy cheeks. Chan immediately knows this is the person he spoke with on the phone, Jisung. 

"Chan?" Jisung whispers, backing away to let him through. Chan spots Minho's body on the bed, unresponsive, and he feels a panic surge back in his body. "Don't worry, he's just asleep." 

"What happened?" Chan whispers back, sitting slowly on the hospital's orange couch next to Jisung, whose eyes are still fixated on Minho's unconscious form. 

"He collapsed." Jisung's features morph in worry, his eyes flickering with fresh memories. "I insisted he should take a break, or get something to eat at least. I shouldn't have asked him to help me out with this gig. I knew he was pushing himself but– but I didn't think it was this bad." 

Chan bites his lower lip, feeling his eyes water at the prospect of Minho overworking himself to this extent. He knew it was some sort of coping mechanism, but it was undeniable that it'd slowly taken reigns over his own mental health. Part of him now wishes he would have insisted that Minho stayed home, but this is not a problem that can be fixed with a simple resting day anymore. 

"I had to put him on temporary leave." Jisung scratches the back of his head. He notices Chan's worried face and clarifies, stumbling on his words. "He's not– he's not fired. It's more like a vacation."

"What did the doctor say?"

"She said it's certainly high levels of stress." Jisung mutters, fidgeting with his hands. He must be blaming himself as much as Chan is right now. "They're prescribing him medication for two weeks– benzos. They help with anxiety a lot, I used to take them too when my disorder was really bad." 

Chan feels like he's melting, having a difficult time registering Jisung's words as his eyes fixate on Minho's parted lips. He looks so fragile, vulnerable, and so at peace. Chan wishes it was more often that he saw Minho so at ease, but he hates it has to be under these circumstances. 

"How long will be his temporary leave?" 

"As much as he needs it. I won't fire him just because of this. He's done enough for the company and he's free to come back whenever he feels ready to." Jisung smiles with difficulty and Chan nods, thankful that Minho's at least got an understanding boss.

"Thank you." He says, voice airy. Jisung leaves them to have alone time and Chan finally draws closer to Minho. It's almost like his boyfriend's body responds to him, slowly opening his eyes and smiling weakly.

"Hey." He croaks. Chan makes an effort to not visibly cringe at how frail Minho sounds. 

"Hey, hon." Chan is still whispering. He leans and kisses Minho on the forehead. "I heard you took a nap at work today."   

Minho chuckles, sitting straight with Chan's help. There's a soft knock on the door and Chan calls out for whoever it is to come in. A doctor around her forties smiles at both of them and quickly takes Minho's vitals as she writes down on his medical record. 

"Take this for no more than three weeks. It's important you don't exceed yourself, though. Benzodiazepines can cause addiction if there's misuse." She says, giving out a rectangular piece of paper to Minho. Chan spots the word 'Xanax' and purses his lips. "Two tablets should be enough a day, but take three if you think you really need it." 

"Thank you." Minho smiles, patting the piece of paper twice before handing it to Chan to see. 

"You're welcome, but it's important for you to know this is just an easy fix. If you're struggling with a work addiction or any other problem alike, I highly suggest you consider therapy." She smiles, taking in Minho's blush. "There's nothing wrong with seeking out for help." 

"Thank you, doctor." Chan sighs, rubbing Minho's back. "Is there any other thing we should do?" 

"Just make sure you get lots of rest. I hear you got temporary leave from work. I have to say that's a great idea and will help you a lot with your recovery." She smiles, then nods to Chan. "Do you have any other questions?" 

"No, I think we're good." Chan looks at Minho, who looks right back at him. "Do you have any other concerns, Min?" 

Minho blinks up to him, quiet. 

"I think we're good. Thank you so much, doctor… Kim." Chan reads her tag. Doctor Kim thanks them and excuses herself, leaving them alone yet again. "Let's go home, Min." 

Chan leads Minho through the corridors, thanking the receptionist on their way out. He gets him on the co-pilot's seat, sighing in relief when they make it just in time before Minho's body gives in. Chan fastens his seatbelt and begins driving, playing soft music to help sooth Minho as he goes to buy his medicine. 

They finally arrive home and Chan carries him out, hoping that none of their neighbours see them and begin asking questions or making up any type of ill-intentioned rumours. He gets Minho to eat at least a bit of food and sets him on the bed before reading out the doctor's prescription thrice. He sits his boyfriend upright and makes him swallow a tablet before laying him back down. Chan doesn't see any visible changes; it's hard to since Minho's already settled down deep into his headspace and remains unmoving in the same position Chan left him in. It isn't until thirty minutes pass that Minho's body muscles untense fully and his forehead lines soothe that Chan knows the medication is taking effect. He blinks down at his boyfriend, admiring how calmed he looks as his eyes glaze over and lose focus. 

"Hon? Are you with me?" Chan whispers, tilting his head to gain his attention. Minho goes to him, blinking slowly. 

"... Slow." 

Chan chuckles, kissing his boyfriend's cheek tenderly. He repositions Minho so he's now sitting on his thighs and rubs his back. He's startled with how easily Minho's head lulls around and he panics, resting it on his chest in case his neck strains. He's got absolutely zero clue how much this is from his headspace and medication, but he tries to be as supportive as he can as he shushes and praises Minho for doing so well. He feels his chest warm up as Minho drools on his shoulder, holding him impossibly tighter and basking on his boyfriend's content sighs. 

"There we go." Chan stretches his wording, leaving a grounding kiss on Minho's jaw. "I got you." 

It's a big give away for him when Minho falls asleep, soft snores leaving him. Chan sighs in relief, hoping that this time Minho will prioritise his mental health and focus on getting better. Chan trusts that he will, and he makes a promise to himself that he will make sure Minho has all the support and love he needs through it. 

♡ 

Chan waits until Minho's completely lucid before he begins to question him about anything at all. The least he wants to do is overwhelm him, but he can't deny entirely that his curiosity is spiking as Minho begins taking his medication regularly. By day five, changes are unmistakable: Minho's sleeping schedule begins to improve, he doesn't have anxiety episodes as much as he did before or sudden energy bursts that leave him drained throughout the day. But still, Chan's perception might be skewed and communication is necessary to get things across perfectly, so he prepares himself to ask what he needs to and properly blurts it out while they're having dinner at home.

"So, how does it feel?"

"How does what feel?" Minho munches a piece of shrimp, tilting his head slightly. Chan bites his lower lip to prevent him from cooing at his boyfriend.

"The benzos." 

Minho avoids his gaze, not because he's uncomfortable. Chan can tell he's thinking his answer through and doesn't pressure him, playing with a discarded piece of meat as he waits.

"It feels… floaty. You know when you're about to sleep, and you're conscious you're actually falling asleep?" 

Chan nods. 

"It's something like that. My body feels relaxed, but it's not like I can't… be aware of my surroundings." He shrugs, gulping down the broccoli. "But when it gets mixed with my headspace, reality sort of blurs out." 

"What do you mean?" 

"It happened when we came back from the hospital, and yesterday too." Minho purses his lips, deep in thought. "It's harder to describe when my headspace is there, but it's like my body and mind know they're safe and the medication effect's somehow… amplifies in a way." 

"Ah." Chan blinks down to his discarded piece of meat. "I guess that's good." 

"It is, but I'm trying not to get too caught up on it. I'll be stopping next week since the doctor said it could cause addiction." 

Chan nods, reaching out to Minho.

"Maybe I can get back to work soon." Minho smiles. Chan feels dread seep horribly in his stomach but he attempts to conceal it, squeezing Minho's hand. 

"As long as you're happy." He says, but he isn't so sure a week is enough for Minho to go back to work like nothing happened. He's been texting with Jisung regularly, mainly to update him about Minho (with his consent) since his boyfriend's decided to take a break from social media as well. Both of them agree that Minho should take more time to fully heal but Minho's a fully capable adult to make his own decisions, even if sometimes they aren't the right ones. Chan's at least relieved the wounds on his forearms are beginning to fade. 

They finish dinner like that and Chan gets him to take the medicine, drawing soothing circles on his skin as they wait for the effects to take place. It's like the longer Minho's in it, the easier it is for Chan, too. His adoration for providing to his boyfriend in whichever way he can only grows, happily tending to him now that he needs him more. Chan doesn't mind that the benzos trigger Minho's headspace; he could take care of him, help him dress up, comb his hair and feed him for however long he needs. Chan's only wish is for his boyfriend to be healthy and well and, despite feeling guilty for not wanting him to go back to work or leave the house just yet, his reasoning tops Minho's aspirations just this one time. Even the doctor said that Minho would need at least two weeks on meds and Minho's eagerness to get back to the academy despite what happened only confirms that he does have some type of issue, or maybe even an obsession, with work. Chan isn't a therapist, he isn't about to diagnose someone with lack of experience, but he isn't oblivious either. He's aware Minho's itching to get back, even if he collapses again. Chan won't let that happen, even if he knows he'll have to eventually address this with Minho, or possibly confront him. He just hopes he doesn't come off as a boyfriend that wants to impose; he would hate to create a dent in their relationship after so long of barely fighting or snapping at each other. 

The second week goes by quicker than the last and the medicine eventually runs out and Chan helplessly worried when Minho jumped right back at work; even Jisung got surprised to see him back at the academy so early on, quickly welcoming him and assigning him a new trainee to guide. The work isn't as loaded as before, leaving Minho unsatisfied but occupied enough (at least Chan and Jisung are on the same page of keeping an eye on him). 

Even without the medicine, Chan finds out that Minho's headspace doesn't deter. In fact, he begins to give in to it easier and more often, letting Chan take care of him with less guilt. Before his collapse, Minho used to let himself go once, twice even, during the week. Now, it's like the benzos helped unclutter how much he was holding back, going limp under Chan's hold every night and even one time during the morning. Chan was static to feed him breakfast that one time, feeling his throat knotted when Minho's sleepy body swayed from side to side. Their new bathtub arrived too, making their showers way easier and more enjoyable. Chan doesn't have to worry about dropping Minho anymore, rather he handles his body on top of his when sitting down and shampoos and scrubs his sun kissed skin with only his boyfriend's comfort in mind. It was nearly impossible for Chan to ever get tired of their new routine; he even felt more energised, unable to hold back his smile and giddiness whenever he saw his boyfriend totally blissed out and content. 

As spring came around the corner, their dynamic only grew stronger. They relied on each other, despite how Minho seemingly depended on him more from an outsider point of view. For Chan, it was the perfect, balanced relationship with someone seeking to be cared for and someone willing to do the caring. Even then, Minho was the sweetest boyfriend he could have asked for, massaging his back after long meetings clustered in his home office or offering cuddles whenever he needed them. He's happy where he is, and he can tell Minho is too.

Minho doesn't spend as much time at home anymore, but he avoids staying at the academy for longer than he needs to. Chan only asked for him to spend the weekends by his side to recharge and Minho happily accepted, avoiding the academy even if his skin itched to move. 

Chan really believes Minho's improving until he sees his bruised forearms, covered with scratches. 

"Are those–?" Chan doesn't even finish before Minho hisses and hides his arms behind his back. "Minho…?"

Minho grimaces, uncomfortable. Chan is aware this might seem like he's cornering him, but he's just worried. Jisung told Chan that another busy season is around the corner and the academy is steadily growing too, taking in more and more trainees by the month. Minho's already a well-known dancer there: a good, patient but strict trainer and a student's favourite. Chan is proud of him, he really is, but if this is the price Minho has to pay, he isn't sure he agrees to it. He knows that doesn't matter, but still, he's running out of ways to approach this and it's starting to escalate to something that could be even worse.

"Hon." Chan begins, biting the inside of his cheek when Minho avoids his gaze. "I'm not mad, I'm just worried, okay?" 

"I'm fine, Chan." Minho says, voice small. Chan's chest constricts when he spots the way Minho's body trembles, holding back tears. 

"Is it work? Is it getting too much again?" 

Minho sniffles, and Chan takes a step closer to him. 

"Can I hug you, baby?" 

"I'm sorry." Minho crumbles, going to hug Chan tightly. Chan shushes his boyfriend, kissing the crown of his head and feeling his eyes sting with every spasm and broken sob that leaves Minho. Seeing him like this only confirms that work had been too overwhelming: Minho had just been hiding it pretty well. Chan isn't even mad or mildly upset, but part of him worries that Minho couldn't trust him enough to open up about his struggles. He holds him closer, resting his head on the top of Minho's and carries him out to their bedroom, rocking him forward and backward once they're at the edge of the bed. The constant sway seems to calm Minho enough to stop hyperventilating, and Chan can feel himself relaxing when his erratic breathing turns into soft puffs of air against his chest. 

"Better?" Chan whispers, pulling away to wipe away Minho's tears. His pretty cat eyes are red at their rims and his nose is irritated too. Minho makes a move to hide away in his chest, but Chan cups his cheeks before he can. "No, let me see you."

"I look ugly." Minho covers his face, shaking his head as Chan tries to pry his hands away. 

"Minho, honey." Chan tries again. "Can you please let me look at you?" 

Minho keeps sniffling, but Chan patiently waits until he uncovers himself. He smiles at his boyfriend as tenderly as he can, leaving a resounding kiss on his cheek. Minho's cheeks turn a cherried red and Chan gets rid of the hair sticking to his eyes and forehead. 

"There is my beautiful boy." Chan coos. Minho smiles shyly at him, pawing at his shirt. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

Minho shakes his head. 

"Do you want me to call Jisung and let him know you need some time off?" 

Minho stops, furrowing his eyebrows in anxiety. Chan rubs his forehead in soothing circles, getting rid of his frown. 

"He won't be mad, honey. You know that."

Minho nods, hesitant. 

"We can decide about it later when you're more calmed down, if you want." 

"N–no." Minho croaks, playing with Chan's shirt. "You're right, I'm sorry, I pushed myself again and I– I didn't think. I thought I could really do it, I didn't want to– to cause any problem for anyone and–"

"Breathe, hon." 

Minho's lower lip wobbles and Chan has to suppress the urge to bring him closer to his chest. 

"I'm sorry." 

"You did nothing wrong." Chan assures him, and he really believes it too. Minho might have made a mistake, but he didn't know any better and that's okay. Chan understands he uses work as an excuse to keep his mind occupied, but he can think of better, so much healthier ways to get them there. "How about I call Doctor Kim again, hm? Maybe we can ask her to recommend us a therapist or–

"No, no." Minho shakes his head. Chan can't say he isn't surprised at his reaction. "I'm good, I just need some time to– to get better." 

"Are you su–?"

"I am." Minho nods, and that's all the confirmation Chan really needs. Minho might not know what's best for him at times, but that's okay. Chan will help him in any way he can, like he always has. 

"Alright, doll." 

♡ 

Chan's legs bounce up and down as he waits in the reception. By the time his name is called out, he feels like all eyes follow him, as if everyone around him can tell he shouldn't be here. He knows he's folding to paranoia, but he's never done anything behind Minho's back and this feels like betrayal, even if his intentions are nothing but good.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Bang?" Doctor Kim offers him a smile, leaving document papers on her desk. Chan spots a set of frames of most likely her family, hugging each other and smiling to the camera in some kind of themed park. He thinks it's cute. 

"I came here a few months ago with my boyfriend, Lee Minho." 

"Of course, I remember you." She nods, tucking a strand of her short dark hair behind her ear. "Is there something you'd like to consult or…?" 

Chan straightens out, getting rid of the creases of his pants before speaking. 

"I wanted to– to talk about him. You recommended him to get therapy but he's not… very fond of the idea." Chan bites his lower lip, lowering his gaze. "I know this is not appropriate for me to ask, but benzos helped him so much and I– I hoped you could give us another prescription. He's trying to get better on his own but he's struggling so much and–"

"I'll stop you there, Mr. Bang." Doctor Kim purses her lips, resting her forearms on her desk. "I understand you're worried about your partner. I would be too if I were in your place. However, it wouldn't be possible for me to give you a prescription for a patient that isn't present. I would need to consult him further, and I recommend he comes personally." 

Chan's face falls, already expecting that kind of answer.

"I understand but, I tried to talk him into coming back here and–"

"Does he know you're here?" 

"Wh– what?" 

"Does Lee Minho know you're here?" 

Chan gulps, fidgeting with his fingers. "Is there– is there any other way I can help him?" 

"Is he still on temporary leave from his job?" 

Chan nods. He doesn't trust his voice right now, feeling like his entire world is crumbling. Minho keeps getting worse and he doesn't know how to make it better for him anymore. Chan shouldn't have come here without telling him, but he's beginning to become desperate. Seeking professional help is supposed to be the gateway; it's everything he has left. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bang, there's not much I can do and, if Mr. Lee doesn't have any plans to pursue therapy, I'm afraid there's not much you can do for him, either." Doctor Kim gives him an apologetic smile and Chan slumps on his seat, defeated. "Like I said, I can't prescribe any medicine without seeing him. But, if you manage to convince him to come here, I'm very sure we can work something out." 

"Thank you, Doctor Kim." Chan sighs, leaving her office quietly. He's not too sure he's ready to go back home, feeling like his lungs could give out any minute. He goes to his car, opening the door and making sure the windows are all the way up before he breaks down completely. He lets his head fall on the car's wheel with a thud, gripping it tight as a cascade of tears dampen his cheeks and thighs. 

He doesn't know what to do or how he can make this all stop. Chan can tell Minho's fighting so hard yet his anxiety slowly eats him alive like a vulture, tearing him apart right in front of him. Chan can't even hug him without worrying about hurting his forearms anymore, deep red after so much self-abuse. 

He talks himself out of his meltdown, remembering Jisung's words about him using benzos when his anxiety spiked. He thinks of talking to him about it as he crosses their apartment door, immediately embracing Minho from behind. His boyfriend jolts in surprise but quickly reciprocates, nuzzling his head against his chest. 

"How are these?" Chan whispers, his fingertips ghosting over Minho's forearm bandages. His boyfriend looks down, embarrassed. 

"Healing." Minho mutters, and Chan tries to suppress a sob when Minho's dark circles come into view. "Why did you come home late, Channie?" 

Chan purses his lips. There's no use lying to Minho; they've always been crystal clear with each other and he's not about to tear that into pieces. 

"I went to see Doctor Kim." 

"Oh, are you okay?" Minho furrows his eyebrows, genuinely worried, and it makes Chan feel even worse about this. 

"I– I actually went to talk to her about– about you." Chan says, each word less audible than the last. Minho's reaction is immediate, wincing like Chan just hit him straight to the face. "I'm sorry, baby, I–" 

"What did you tell her?" 

"Min–"

"Chan, what did you tell her?" Minho isn't screaming, but Chan feels like the ground could swallow him whole any minute. His eyes flicker to Minho's forearms, just for a second, but even that his boyfriend catches.

"No, Min–"

"You told her about this?" Minho's eyes fill with tears, backing away from Chan before he even has the chance to reach out. 

"Baby, no, I would never." Chan rushes to speak before Minho interrupts. "I just– I'm really worried about you and I asked her– I asked her if maybe we could get prescribed benzos again since– since you were so much better back then." 

There's a steady silence that follows, both of them looking at each other. Chan follows Minho's hand movement, right where he's unknowingly scratching. He doesn't think before he acts, separating his hand from his arm. It takes him by surprise that Minho actually swats him away and he goes to apologise before it escalates any further. 

"You– I don't need a drug to– to help me feel better, Chan. Why did you– why did you–?"

Chan's face blanches when he understands.

"Baby, you're having an anxiety attack." Chan says, voice steady as Minho's legs tremble under him, just like his arms. Minho shakes his head, but his chest heaves up and down with speed as he gasps for air. Chan panics, going for his hands again to squeeze them together. "In and out, Minnie. Do this for me, yeah? I'm here, I'm not going anywhere." 

Minho's hyperventilation is only getting worse, so Chan rests one of his hands on his chest and keeps them there, hoping this works. 

"Let's feel how your chest goes up and down, yeah? Up." Minho chokes out a handful of sobs, squeezing his eyes shut as Chan attempts to guide his breathing. "Down, there we go." 

His boyfriend tries again. Chan figures he must be in so much pain right now, by the way more tears keep leaving him. He suppresses the urge to bring him closer, aware that it would overwhelm Minho further, and tries again. 

"Up." Minho takes in a deep breath, his body convulsing as he tries to keep the air in. "Down. You're doing great, honey."

It takes about an hour for Minho to calm down enough to talk, apologising even if he still doesn't feel alright. Chan doesn't think any of this is his fault, but he accepts the apology to keep his boyfriend's mind at peace. 

They spend the night impossibly closer to each other, their limbs tangled and their breaths synched. Minho's meltdown must have worn him out and Chan properly feels like the worst person in the world for being relieved at that. He barely sees Minho this calmed anymore, apart from when he gives in to his headspace. Chan would do anything to provide him with the safety he deserves, and he understands that trust comes in the way of that. He shouldn't have gone to Doctor Kim without consulting Minho, but at least he knows now that he needs to intervene before it's too late, with or without professional help. Minho might hate him for it and that could properly break Chan in pieces, but he's willing to be broken as long as the parts of himself build Minho back up. 

He's willing to be anything for him. 

♡ 

Chan's body goes on autopilot, and it's easier to fake a smile and act at ease than he thought it would be. The pharmacist across from him reads out the prescription out loud, and barely looks twice before he instructs Chan to wait and disappear behind a door. He takes a little bit too long and Chan thinks for a moment that he might have busted him for finding something off from his mediocre photoshop skills. He considers leaving the place but, before he can, the pharmacist is back with his fake prescription and two packs of medicine. 

"Xanax, 0.75ml, liquid." He mutters out, swiping the medicine and giving it to Chan after he pays. Chan's legs feel like jelly as he exits the drugstore, dropping the bag on the co-pilot's seat like it burned him. He knows he can still back down and forget about this all before he regrets anything, but he's been ruminating for weeks now and he hasn't found any other alternative. He loathes himself for it, even accepting that Minho could break up with him for this. But, this is the person he promised himself to protect. He can't fail him, he would be failing himself too if he simply let Minho drown like this. 

He's tried everything– asked Jisung to talk to Minho about how benzos worked for him, suggested online therapy several times, brought home dozens of fidgeting and stress-relief toys, played asmr to get Minho to at least get drowsy. Nothing seems to work, and it could be that the last alternative for others would be annexing their loved one, but Chan would never do that to Minho even if he lost every drop of sense in his body. He could be a coward for this all, he's not sure about it and, quite frankly, he doesn't care either. He's doing this for Minho only, not for himself, so his feelings in this equation are irrelevant. 

He drives back home, unable to tear his mind off the different ways he could slip the medicine in Minho's food. It should be easy; Chan always prepares their meals and it's rare that Minho will even step in the kitchen. 

He's also researched thoroughly to prevent creating any sort of addiction, reminding himself that this isn't a permanent fix. He'll make sure Minho gets better first, though. He can worry about talking him into therapy after that. All in all, he's made sure to prepare himself to his best abilities. 

He hides the medicine bag inside his backpack before going in, leaving the keys on the counter and calling out for Minho. His boyfriend peeks out, wearing long sleeved pyjamas despite summer. 

"You're early. Didn't you have a meeting today?" 

Chan stammers, recalling his excuse. "Right, it got cancelled last minute." 

"Oh, that's a shame." Minho pouts, approaching to peck him on the lips. Chan smiles at him, cupping his cheeks in between his hands. 

"You know I love you with all my heart?" 

Minho swats his hands away, playful. Chan adores how Minho's skin becomes redder; he could appreciate this sight for the rest of his days. 

"I love you too, Channie." Minho says, pulling him in a hug that Chan happily reciprocates. He interlaces their hands, swaying them around as if Chan just asked him out on their first date. "Want to watch a movie?" 

"Of course, honey. I'll make dinner while you choose it." Chan says, feeling a pang in his chest with how easily Minho goes. He claws his nails on his palms, reminding himself that he's doing this for Minho's own good. 

He prepares Minho's favourite to ease the guilt, and sneaks in the smallest dose possible as he does. He takes the food, giving a plate to Minho as he plops himself on the couch next to him. Minho's chosen a movie that Chan barely has the mind to pay attention to, stealing glances his way instead in case he notices something off with the food or the symptoms begin to manifest. There are moments when Minho stares at the food longer than Chan could think of as normal, panicking at his every microreaction. 

"Channie?" Minho asks, voice doubtful. Chan feels his heart skip in his chest, ready to be called out. Minho only smiles at him, though, tired eyes filled with so much love. Chan has to remind himself to breathe every time he looks at Minho for too long. "The food is amazing." 

Chan gulps, feeling the corner of his eyes sting. He wishes things could be different, if only Minho would have listened and sought help. It's too late now. 

"I'm happy to hear that, honey." 

Minho finishes the plate by the time they reach half of the movie. Chan catches glimpses of him, trying not to stare for too long, but he can already notice Minho's beginning to feel drowsy. He squeezes his eyes shut, running his fingers through Minho's soft hair to ease him in his sleep. He doesn't think his boyfriend has had a peaceful night for weeks, so part of him relishes the moment Minho's head finally bumps on his shoulder with a soft thud. Chan can feel his own heartbeat against his ears, smiling to himself as he looks down at his passed out boyfriend. He's quick to take the empty plate off his limp hands, kissing him on the crown of his head and carrying him bridal style to their room and depositing him softly on the bed, tucking him in. He walks down to the kitchen, wincing when the bottle of Xanax is still so openly on display; he should be more careful from now on. He puts it inside his pocket grey pants, washing the dishes as quietly as he can. As he turns their room handle, he hears the soft snores of Minho filtering in. He sighs in relief, taking in his boyfriend's small figure covered in bed sheets, a thin line of drool poking out of his thin lips.

He sits on the corner of the bed, careful to not move as much even though Minho's properly knocked out. He rests his hand on his boyfriend's cheek, thumbing at his cheek and admiring how his eyelids flicker with movement, probably from a dream. He leans down, leaving a soft peck on his parted open lips, poking in his tongue slightly. Minho whines under him, almost needily, and Chan has to make an effort to part from him. This is not the time nor place, and he will not distraught Minho only for the sake of it. Chan only wishes he could see his boyfriend like this more often, and he buzzes in anticipation with what the medicine promises them. 

Only things will improve from now on, both for him and especially for Minho. He's sure of it. 

♡

"Channie?" 

Chan feels his body freeze in panic, hearing Minho's words laced in confusion as he stares at his coffee. Even if it's been already two weeks from sneaking in the doses, Chan's only getting more at edge. He doesn't think he could ever come clean for this, rather he prays Minho will never find out even after he fully recovers from his disorder. Minho makes it incredibly easy to slip in the medicine to his drinks and foods, never noticing the taste even if the dose is slightly upped. Chan only does it when he notices Minho's having a specially rough day though, wanting him to get a full rest and relaxation. 

"Yes, honey?" 

"Was this… was this chipped before?" Minho bites his lower lip, staring at his cat mug. Chan feels his body untense, relief flooding him in an instant. He takes Minho's empty mug from his tiny hands, inspecting the damage. 

"Mhm, I think it might have been from the time you bumped it against the counter." Chan provides, running his finger on the mug's dent. 

"Oh, I– I guess so." Minho furrows his eyebrows, but Chan could notice from miles away that he's still confused. He must have forgotten about it. 

"I'll get you another one, if you want." Chan pulls him closer by the waist, kissing his forehead. Minho trembles under his touch, grabbing at the hem of Chan's shirt. He loves getting his boyfriend like this, all flustered and shy. Chan thinks he's the most adorable person in the world, and he feels luckier to have him by his side each day that passes. 

"Oh, that– that feels good." Minho says, breathy voice poking at Chan's brain. 

"You mean this?" Chan whispers, using his hands to rub soothing circles right above the curve of his ass. Minho softly moans under him, holding onto Chan's back as he simply massages him some more. "Makes you feel good, honey?" 

Minho nods, half dazed as Chan lifts him off from his ass and drops him softly on the counter. Chan's hands leave his boyfriend's back, going under his loose shirt and feeling him up. He holds him by the waist, swooning when he feels Minho's now soft tummy contracting with every shaky breath. His boyfriend's hands travel desperately to his nape, interlacing his fingers there as Chan leaves wet kisses on his jaw, below his ear, on his clavicules. Minho's hips buck up as Chan plays with the beads of his nipples, tugging at them and circling them until they're hard and perky. 

"Bedroom?" 

"Yeah." Minho whines, circling his legs around Chan's waist as he carries him to their room. Minho latches himself to his neck, sucking in hickeys there, tugging at the hair of his nape lightly. 

Chan lets him fall on the cushioned bed, taking off his clothes as Minho does the same. He crawls to him, feeling his cheeks heated and his cock filling up when Minho spreads his legs for him. He can't help but to rub his hand where his boxers bulge up, loving the sound of Minho's soft whines as he tugs at his cock through the fabric. Then he leans over, breath hovering against his boyfriend's cock and admiring how it twitches and drips precum pitifully. He plants the palm of his hand right where the crack of his ass is, rubbing up and down whilst separating Minho's legs further with his knees.

"Want me to fuck your pretty cunt, doll?" 

Minho's glazed eyes blink slowly at him, leaving out erratic puffs of air as he grips the bed sheets around him. Chan tilts his head while awaiting his response, resting it on Minho's quivering thigh. 

"I asked you a question, honey." 

"Channie, I need you." Minho begs, tears already threatening to spill from his shiny eyes. Chan feels his heart bloom in his chest, tugging Minho's boxers off him and coating his hand with lube, warming it up as fast as he can before tugging at his boyfriend's cock slowly. Minho's back arches under him, his hands flying up to Chan's muscly arms encasing his frame. Chan doesn't mind that Minho's nails claw on his skin, too engrossed in touching him in just the right way he likes. He uses Minho's precum, mixing it with the lube and drawing out a squelch sound as he plays with his balls, going from the base to the top of his cock in semi circular motions. Minho pats his arm twice to point out that he's ready, Chan immediately reacting and pouring more lube on his hole, massaging his rim until Minho begs for him to use his fingers inside him. 

Chan's index finger goes in easily, and it doesn't take much for his middle finger to go past it as well. Minho's hips buck down to his fingers, and Chan lets his boyfriend fuck himself around them, enjoying the show. Minho suddenly straightens up, taking Chan off guard as he sits on his thighs and rubs himself against his bare thighs. 

"Ride 'ou." He slurs out, pupils blown wide as he lifts his body up to line himself up to Chan's cock. He groans, helping his boyfriend position himself and feeling his heat slowly engulf him entirely. Minho's walls squeeze him so tight that Chan has to focus on his own breathing to not buck up, waiting for Minho to accommodate. His boyfriend finally uses his shoulders as leverage, pushing himself up before letting gravity take him, bottoming out on him. Chan's never seen Minho so lost in his own pleasure, and it only drives him crazier and bolder as he squeezes his boyfriend's thigh in a bruising way. 

"Go on, doll." Chan whispers, prompting his boyfriend to keep using his cock. "Show me how much you want it." 

Minho moans as beads of sweat coat his hair and neck, desperately chasing his high as he angles himself differently and keeps on taking from him. Chan's right hand leaves one of his boyfriend's thighs, choosing to masturbate his boyfriend again, eliciting desperate cries from him. Minho's eyes close on their own, and Chan takes in his trembling thighs, probably burning from the strain and weight on them. He takes pity on him with the way the tears finally leave his eyes, his cheeks and neck fully wet from how overwhelmed he begins to feel. Before he can suggest anything, Minho calls out for him. 

"Chan, n't do it." Minho whines, losing his strength and feeling his body give out on him. Chan nods, quickly manhandling his boyfriend so his back is on the bed as he faces him. Chan's hips automatically pistol up, right at the place he knows Minho's prostate is, taking in the way his boyfriend squirms under him and his arms fall to his sides in defeat. 

"You're so fucking hot, doll." Chan breathes out, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels Minho clenching around him with vice. "I could fuck you like this everyday, honey." 

Minho doesn't say anything, and for a moment everything Chan can hear are their own breaths mixing with each other, the bed creaking under them and the squelch of his cock going inside Minho's wet hole. He feels himself draw closer, gripping at Minho's soft skin and leaving marks as he goes.

"You want my cum in you, hon?" Chan growls out, expecting an affirmative answer. Minho doesn't reply, only letting out soft whines that spur Chan to go faster, harder. He taps Minho's leg, asking for his reply, though again his boyfriend only lets out breathy sounds. Chan doesn't think he can hold on much longer and he cracks one eye open to ask Minho again, yet immediately freezes and stops his movements at the sight.

Minho's completely blissed out, his eyes half closed and dilated as tears keep streaming down his face. He's drooling from one corner of his mouth, his gaze lost from where Chan is. Chan immediately is plunged into panic, taking Minho's jaw in his hold to make him look his way. Minho's head goes to where Chan directs him, and he immediately remembers the dose he sneaked in his coffee that morning. He makes the move to pull out, horniness be damned, Minho will always come first, yet he feels a hand reaching out to his arm and pulling him back. 

"Min?" Chan asks, feeling his heartbeat quickening as his boyfriend mouths something to him. Chan furrows his eyebrows, leaning down to hear him better as Minho's shaky, frail voice chants him a mantra. 

"Go on, go on." 

Chan feels his cock, still buried deep in his boyfriend, twitch at the lewd request. It's the first time Minho's requested something sexual from him so deep in his headspace, limp and disorientated as he is. All the times Chan's cared for him in this state were merely platonic, and so the change of dynamic has something inside him twisting with a desire he never dared to approach. He licks his lips, taking in his boyfriend once more, before giving an experimental thrust. Minho barely reacts to it, though if Chan really pays attention, he can see his eyes open more in the slightest, and hear his moans as merely a whisper. 

"Are you sure, doll? We can stop, I don't mind at all." 

Minho shakes his head, or at least that's what Chan thinks he does. He still thinks they should talk about it once Minho's fully lucid, but he feels guilt gnawing at him for putting him in this position in the first place; it was no secret that the medicine triggered his headspace, both of them knew that, so the least Chan can do is at least give him the pleasure he's desperately craving. 

He nods, feeling his cock twitch more inside Minho as he keeps on thrusting slowly in his heat. He pays attention to every microreaction Minho has, careful to pick out any sign of discomfort, yet all he sees is the expression of being fucked out and content. That gives him more confidence, and soon he's picking up the pace, focusing on Minho's pleasure as he targets his prostate once again. It doesn't take long for Minho's cock to release ribbons of white on his chest, reaching up to his chin with the force of his high. Chan moans at the sight, taking in the way his boyfriend's dirty and limp body goes up and down his cock with zero resistance. The image alone finally sets him off, filling Minho's hole with so much cum that it falls out of his hole in thin lines and on their sheets the moment Chan pulls out of him. 

Chan curses out at the sight of Minho, having to look away in case he pops another boner. His boyfriend's half lidded eyes stare at the ceiling, lost on it, as his erratic breathing slowly calms down. His cum is beginning to dry on his blooming red skin, though what really does it for him is that Minho stays in the same position he left him in; his open legs weakly holding themselves up, displaying his hole dripping off Chan's come. 

Chan shakes his head, gulping to lean next to Minho, tilting his head to the side so he looks at him. It takes a few seconds for Minho to register the movement, and a few more to take in Chan in front of him. He smiles, something Chan would have missed had his full attention not have been on his boyfriend. 

"A shower sounds good, hon?" Chan whispers, not wanting to break him off from his headspace just yet. Minho blinks once for yes, and Chan's chest swells in pride. They came to the agreement that, whenever Minho felt so deep in his headspace, one blink would be for yes and two blinks for no. They hadn't really come to that until Minho began being on benzos though, the drug not only setting off his headspace but making it even more intense. 

He takes Minho's body in his arms, already settling on their routine of undressing himself first, then his boyfriend while the water gets warm. Chan promptly knows that loop sounds draw in Minho further in his headspace, just like the running of water, tapping and white noise, and he briefly wonders just how deep he could go. He easily manoeuvres Minho so he rests on the tub, quickly going in before his boyfriend sinks under. They settle comfortably like that, Chan careful not to get any shampoo on his eyes and leaving the conditioner set on his hair as he shampoos his own hair. He scrubs Minho's body gently, careful to clean him up, using one finger inside him for good measure to get rid of the cum. Minho mewls, and it takes all Chan's willpower to control the heat threatening to re-settle in his cock. Once they're done, he dries Minho's soft skin, careful to use all his skincare products and apply extra moisture to the places he gripped particularly hard. 

Both of them slept soundly that night. 

♡ 

They talk about it the next morning. Chan makes sure that Minho's fully lucid for the conversation, skipping that day's dose so they can talk about the introduction of this dynamic in their relationship. Chan sits across from him, clicking a pen in and out in anxiety as Minho drinks from his cat mug. 

"So… you liked it?" 

Minho blinks up to him, feeling his cheeks heat up, briefly glancing at Chan's hands still playing with the pen. 

"I did." Minho agreed, biting his lower lip as he fiddled with his mug. "It was hot. The way you– yeah." 

Chan suppresses the smirk and the pride growing inside him. All of that can wait after they clear everything out. 

"What about you?" 

"Huh?" 

"Did you like it when I… when I was like that?" Minho gulps down at that, looking away as if he didn't care too much about Chan's answer. Chan's immediately transported to yesterday; the way Minho remained unresponsive under him, how he clenched around him even if he was barely conscious, his glazed over eyes that couldn't focus on anything, his body pliant and ready to be filled, just like a fleshlight. 

"I think what you feel is more important." 

Minho places his mug down. "That's not true. I want to hear how you feel about this, too."

"If you ask me…" Chan stammers. He doesn't know how to say this without sounding like a complete madman, or a pervert. But if Minho's asking him after he already confessed he liked it, the least Chan owes him is honesty. "I thought you were really hot." 

His boyfriend smirks, tucking a hair strand under his ear. Now that he's been sleeping better each day that goes by, he barely has any dark circles. Chan's happy to see that even the bandages on his forearms begin to disappear, no longer needed. 

"You liked fucking me while I couldn't move, Channie?" 

Chan chuckles nervously, looking away as he feels his dick twitch in interest. 

"I did." He mutters out, barely audible, but he knows Minho could hear him judging by the giggle he lets out. Chan looks back at him, just to witness that beautiful smile. 

"Seriously, though." Chan starts, growing serious as Minho stops laughing and tilts his head in interest. "Since we're doing this, I think we should have… to set boundaries." 

"Boundaries?" Minho sighs, staring up at empty space. Chan smiles as his boyfriend lets his mind roam freely, getting lost in that pretty head of his. He lets his boyfriend stay silent for a while, taking advantage to think of ways they can make this new dynamic work out. Since they already have the blinking system, they're off for a good start. Still, Chan would feel better about it if they had something more to rely on since things will get more intense from here. 

"I think I have an idea." Chan says, but it falls to deaf ears. He makes an 'ah' sound, shaking Minho slightly. His boyfriend blinks up to him, curious. 

"Mhm?" 

"About the boundaries." 

"Oh, I was thinking about some, too." Minho mutters out, though Chan can tell easily he still hasn't come up with any. It's okay; he can offer some up and Minho can part from there.

"What can you do when you're deep in your headspace?" 

Minho uses his fingers to count up as he talks. "Blink and, uh, move my hands a little bit." 

Chan nods before he even finishes. "Okay, how about you use five fingers for green, three for yellow and a fist for red?" 

"Oh, like… the traffic light system we use but… with fingers." 

"Does it sound good?" 

"No, yeah." Minho nods, sheepishly scratching at his nape. "It makes sense."  

Chan smiles, cupping his boyfriend's cheek. Minho nuzzles in his hand, Chan swooning with how catlike his boyfriend is. 

"Is there anything else you'd like to say?" Chan prompts, waiting patiently for Minho to think about it.

"Maybe…" Minho starts, playing with his fingers. "I need a way to tell you when I'm deep in my headspace and I want it to be platonic or sexual. Do you think I can give you a sign or something for that?" 

"Of course, hon." Chan beams, pleased to comply with anything his boyfriend suggests. "What do you have in mind?" 

"Um, I think I can look to the side if I want it to be platonic." 

Chan nods, taking a mental note for everything. 

"Okay, anything else?" 

"I don't think so." He says, shaking his head several times. "We can start with what we have and add more boundaries if we need to." 

Chan nods, smiling tenderly at his boyfriend. He's so relieved they always communicate about everything, no matter what. 

"Alright, doll." 

They take off from that, and it becomes real fucking good that even Chan is surprised with how their dynamic works so well. The fact that Minho likes to be in this headspace only adds to Chan's confidence in his decision of giving him benzos and, even if the slight pang of guilt never ends, it certainly gets smaller. 

Most of their interactions are spent platonically, Chan taking care of Minho like it is his second nature and getting awfully good at it by respecting every wish and request Minho has while under his headspace. He suppresses the newfound lust that creeps up on him when he sees Minho so vulnerable, reminding himself that Minho trusts him and he will never break that trust, accepting that everyone has intrusive thoughts and everything will be just right so long he doesn't act on them. 

As for the times Minho doesn't look to the sides but directly to him, indicating that he wants to be used just like he is, Chan absolutely loses it. He comes up with ways to make their dynamic as fun as it can be for the both of them, always talking about his ideas and negotiations to and with Minho beforehand even if both of them are left flustered and bothered every single time. Minho agrees to all of them, excitement twinkling in his eyes with every fantasy that leaves Chan's lips. Though, Chan isn't the only one suggesting things. 

"You want me to… use your mouth?" Chan chokes out, gripping his mug harder so he doesn't drop it. Quite honestly, Chan isn't sure what he did to deserve such an amazing boyfriend as Minho; he feels like he lucked out big time.

Minho's eyes glint, a mischievous smile coming up. "Channie, 'course I want 'ou to." 

Minho even dares to use white noise to trigger his headspace when he's desperate, setting his headphones at full volume as Chan does repetitive tapping on his back. They realise that it works like a charm and, if Chan uses a tiny bit of benzo dose to help Minho out, he makes sure not to mention it. Once Minho's properly blissed out and unmoving, Chan makes sure to double check, momentarily getting rid of Minho's headphones so he hears his question. Minho would keep on looking at him straight ahead, the tiniest curve on his lips also giving Chan the confirmation he needed.  

Chan complies to Minho's wish, feeling his cock twitch as he pries Minho's mouth open so easily. His boyfriend blinks slowly at him, staring up at his cock and watching it disappear inside his mouth, feeling its weight on his tongue with barely any gag reflex to support him. 

"Show me your fingers." Chan's voice trembles, his hips going back and forth as he watches Minho's slacked mouth engulf him fully. He groans, relishing on the way his boyfriend's throat constricts and surrounds him. It's a lewd view by the way Minho's eyes are barely even focused, his slumped body only able to stand upright because Chan made sure to rest his back on the headboard. He barely has the mind to remember what he just asked Minho, smiling in satisfaction as he sees Minho's palm sprawled open, signalling green light. 

He keeps on fucking his mouth, gripping Minho's hair strands to match the rythm of his thrusts. He feels him choking under him, but he doesn't stop until he fully reaches his high. His limp cock twitches in interest again when he backs away from Minho to let him breathe, seeing the way his headspace prevents him from swallowing. Chan's cum drips down from his mouth, forming a dense cascade that paints Minho's chin and upper neck. He bites his lower lip, knowing he has to clean him up even if a voice inside him insists that Minho should be left like that, only for him to see. 

Then, a few days later–

"Uh… a vibrator?" 

Minho looks up at him with a funny face, his ears turning an angry red at Chan's proposal. 

"Why not? We've tried one before." Chan bites his lower lip, hoping his argument is good enough to convince Minho. 

"But while in my headspace, I feel like that would be too much." Minho mutters. Chan tries to suppress the feeling of disappointment that takes over, though Minho picks up on it either way. "Uhm, maybe– maybe we can try it but, I think I'd need you to pay closer attention to the signs I make." 

Chan perks up, nodding so hard his neck begins to strain. He stops tapping his pen, taking Minho's hand instead. "Of course, doll." 

Minho nervously puts on his headphones while Chan draws soothing circles on his back to ease him on it. He made sure to up his benzo dose just a bit, just to make it easier for him to relax into what they were about to do. Minho's arms, now scarred but without any fresh injury, wrap around Chan as he lets his voice soothe him. It doesn't take long for Minho to fully let go, pupils blown wide as Chan manoeuvres his body carefully so he's face down and his ass hangs from the bed. He makes sure Minho's breathing properly and his body's comfortable, waiting for his blinks before he tugs down his pants and boxers. He gives an experimental spank on Minho's right cheek, barely even a hit, before he gives one a bit harder. He hears Minho's breathing quickening, smirking when he uses both of his hands to expose his boyfriend's quivering hole. His cock turns to full hardness at the sight, lubing up his fingers and slipping one in. It goes without any resistance, and so he adds another one with a little bit of stretch. He pauses for a bit, making sure Minho's palms are still open and he isn't giving any signs of being in pain. 

"Feeling good, doll?" Chan leans to his left side, where Minho's head is tilted at. He nods once Minho blinks at him once. "Is it okay if I use the vibrator now?" 

Minho blinks once, again. Chan smiles, patting his cheek in reassurance before returning to Minho's back, picking up their black, dildo shaped vibrator. He purses his lips, watching the head pop in Minho's hole before he slowly pushes each curved edge in. Minho mewls under him, Chan barely paying it any mind as he spreads his cheeks wider to make the sex toy finally disappear in his boyfriend. He holds the vibrator from the base, giving an experimental thrust that has Minho sobbing, his pleasured sounds muffled by the bed sheets. 

"Show me your fingers, doll." It takes a while for Minho to register his command but, when he does, he shows three fingers to him. Chan sighs in relief, getting the remote ready. "I'll turn it on now, then." 

He sets the vibrator on the lowest level, admiring how Minho's legs tremble around it. He can't help but to thrust in the sex toy as it opens up Minho more, gulping as the squelching sound echoes in their room. Minho's toes curl in pleasure, though his body remains unmoving as Chan picks up the pace, each thrust jolting Minho up. After a while, he relents, leaving the vibrator in place to do its work, feeling his heartbeat quicken as Minho's forced to stay still and bare with it. 

His boyfriend begins to let out puffy breaths, whimpering as Chan sets the vibrator's level higher, twisting it so it goes impossibly deeper in Minho's heat. Minho's reaction is almost immediate even as deep in his headspace as he is, his body convulsing even if he doesn't want it to. Chan's spurred on by the sight, gripping the vibrator's base and thrusting it in and out harshly, aiming it to Minho's prostate. On his peripheral, he can already see Minho drooling, making a mess of himself, and he palms himself through it. He leaves the sex toy in its place, letting Minho wither under him as he closes his thighs as tight as he can, slipping his cock in between them and hoisting Minho's hips up so his cock isn't in between his stomach and the bed. His boyfriend's body trembles like a leaf, sobs coming out of him as Chan pumps his cock and uses his thighs as a fleshlight. 

"Just like that, doll, fuck, just like that." Chan chants out, using his chest to press the vibrator deep in Minho's ass. "You're doing so well, it's like you're meant for this, hon." 

Chan closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock being squeezed by Minho's thighs, keeping them in place with his knees. He quickly sets the remote to its highest intensity before squeezing his boyfriend's cock, twisting his hand around it and thumbing at his slit relentlessly. He moans as he takes in Minho's arched back, his body positioned in an undoubtedly uncomfortable way as his hands shake in tiny fists and weakly hit the bed's sheets. Chan barely has the mind to stop now, feeling his high drawing closer and masturbating Minho faster to compensate. 

"You can bear with it a little longer, doll. Look how close you are." Chan grunts out, adoring the way Minho takes him so well. He leaves his cock, pulling the vibrator out before thrusting it back in. Minho lets out a whine, laced with cries that wake something deep inside Chan. "Come on, doll. Look at how well you're letting me use you. Isn't this what you want? For me to use your useless body?" 

Minho's fists shake as he keeps on knocking them on the bed, so Chan takes one of them, opening it and interlacing his fingers there in hope that it will soothe his boyfriend into his orgasm. 

"Focus on the vibrator, doll, feel it inside you, go on." Chan encourages, feeling his climax approach as he feels Minho's back go up and down erratically. He doesn't think Minho's ever looked this gorgeous to him, blissed out beyond any comprehension, willing to take everything Chan gives him. He vows to take care of his boyfriend like this, to pleasure him beyond anything he expects, and to protect him from everything that threatens them.

He finally lets go, his cum spurting on Minho's thighs as he milks out his high. Minho comes right after, coating Chan's hand with cum that he smears all over his chest. He lets Minho's hip go, his boyfriend immediately slumping to the bed with no sign of life except from his unstable breathing. Chan turns his boyfriend around, expecting to see a content smile in return. He feels like the world suddenly stops around him, freezing in place at noticing Minho's terrified eyes lost in space. 

"Min? Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Chan shakes his body, though his boyfriend's body remains limp. His chest is going up and down like the times he used to have his anxiety attacks, uncontrolled and panicked. Chan glances down to the little fists his boyfriend is doing and his face falls when realisation hits him like a brick.  

Minho's trying to push him away now.

Chan feels his eyes brim with tears, not knowing how to calm Minho with him so deep in his headspace. He tries to shush him, rock him from side to side, but Minho's body feels so tiny in his arms and Chan can't reach him, no matter what he says or does. 

"Please, no, no." Chan blinks down at him, his salty tears falling on Minho's scared face. "Please– Min, tell me what to do." 

Minho remains frozen, seemingly trying to speak up, though nothing comes out of his strained throat. Chan leans down, trying to catch anything, any word. 

"... own." Minho strains, his voice merely a whisper as he wills his body to obey him. Chan furrows his eyebrows, trying to match Minho's words. He feels his heart sink when his boyfriend tries again, clear as ice. "Lweave… 'lone…"

Leave me alone. 

Chan lets Minho's body down on the bed as softly as he can. Minho visibly relaxes when Chan isn't touching him anymore, Chan feeling like a thousand daggers just stabbed his heart. He backs away, stumbling near the door as his eyes fixate on Minho's lone figure, curling on himself. Chan did this; he did this to him. 

He shakes his head, disbelief morphing his features as he closes the door behind him. 

The last thing he sees are Minho's hands, still curled up in fists.  

♡ 

Chan doesn't bother knocking, doesn't even try to approach their room as he sleeps on the coach, crying himself to sleep and pulling his hair by the root until his scalp is pulsing from the pain. His mind takes him to Minho's pained face, to how his pretty features crumpled in fear directed to him. Chan made Minho feel scared by bending and breaking the trust he swore to protect in pieces. 

He considers leaving the apartment like that; he doesn't think any excuse or any explanation will be enough. He doesn't even want the chance to explain himself and, even if he did, he wouldn't even know what to say. He hurt Minho so badly that he might not go into his headspace again, associating it with only bad things from now on. Chan properly fucked up his only coping mechanism, and he's a fucking coward for not having the resolution to stand and leave their home. He simply can't– not when deep inside, he knows Minho needs him. If he leaves, just how would Minho cope from now on without his headspace to rely on and Chan to comfort him. He'd surely spiral, breakdown, and relapse. Even if Minho loathes him for it, Chan cannot leave him like this, and he can't let his mistakes ruin him. 

It takes half a day for Minho to finally open the door, though his head doesn't even turn Chan's way as he grabs hold of his cat mug, almost dropping it as he fills it with hot water. Chan's instinct dies to help him out, watching how his boyfriend trips on his own feet and can barely hold his mug up. He stays put, expecting Minho to talk to him first; the least thing he would want to do was to trigger him, or scare him in any other way. 

Minho looks up his way and Chan feels that every single piece that didn't break inside him finally gives in under the weight of Minho's reddened eyes. Minho goes to talk to him, though pain streaks his features and he folds, dropping his mug on the floor. Chan's eyes grow big as he follows his boyfriend to the bathroom, stammering without much to say as Minho barely makes it in time and vomits nothing but bile. Chan quickly kneels down next to him, rubbing his back without thinking too much, though he stops as Minho tries to push him away. 

"Don.. towuch me." Minho's voice echoes, half of his head still inside the toilet as he empties his stomach. His frail body convulses hashly, his hands holding onto the lid until his knuckles turn white. Chan bites his lips hard until blood draws out, unable to comfort his boyfriend any longer. 

As Minho finally is done, both of them stay in silence. Minho rests his head on the toilet's seat as he catches his breath and Chan grimaces at the sight, suppressing his need to pull him away from it and into his arms. 

"You… didn't care." Minho says, his voice breaking. Chan feels his own eyes get watery again. "'ou didn'… 'ou didn' care." 

"I'm sorry, Min–"

"-ou didn' care." Minho slurs out, shaking his head and sitting upright, grabbing Chan's shirt for good measure. "'ou didn't care! 'ou don't care! 'ou didn't care!" 

Chan lets Minho hit his chest as hard as he can, though it's not as hard as he wishes it was. He wants to feel so much more pain, drown in it, let Minho swallow him whole and never allow him to ever come back to the surface. 

"'ou didn' care!" Minho's voice quivers, his hits growing weaker until Chan only feels slight taps. Minho's body slumps, going forward and resting his head on Chan, though it's not to seek comfort this time. He's exhausted even from that little burst out. Minho pauses, trying to regain his shortened breath, hiccuping when Chan tries to speak again. 

"'ou didn fuckin care 'nd 'ou prowmised me." Minho wails now, sobs leaving him as Chan stays petrified under him, clawing his hands on his thighs to prevent him from touching Minho. "don' wan to see 'ou again." 

Chan's breath hitches, gaping as Minho shakes his head to him. He realises then why he really stayed, even if he knew he should have left the moment he chose himself over Minho. He should have known. Minho's right in front of him, anger and disgust and betrayal all written on him, and yet Chan decides to cling to what no longer belongs to him. He survived that night, only because the leech of his brain insisted that Minho would give him a second chance, that maybe they could work from this, that he could earn his trust back even after blatantly ignoring his boundaries.

Minho gets up, ready to leave, Chan does not know where. 

"calling Ji'ung, I'll go pawk my things." 

"Wait, please, doll–"

"'on't call me fuckin that, Chan." Minho snaps, words mixing with each other as he stumbles out to their room. Chan follows him suit, shocked as Minho's trembling hands pick up his suitcase and starts filling it with his clothes. He lets his own phone vibrate in the distance, surely expecting Jisung to pick up. 

Minho refuses to open up now, only wishing to kick Chan out from his life as easy as it could get, not even wanting to hear what he has to say. Chan understands now that, no matter what he does, Minho won't forgive him. He will leave him for good. Even after all he's done for him, even after all the time and care he was willing to give to him, Minho decided to leave him just for one night slip up. 

The phone keeps going in the distance, making Chan's eye twitch. Minho keeps on frantically adding things in his suitcase, letting out a frustrated whine when he closes it and it doesn't zip up. Chan huffs, tilting his head as he watches Minho struggle. 

"Need any help, doll?" He taunts, and even he feels himself flinch at his own words, foreign and laced with loathe. He goes to apologise as quickly as the words leave him, but Minho beats him to it, bumping against the bed and almost falling against the floor. 

"Screw 'ou, Chan!" Minho slurs out, pushing Chan aside as the phone stops vibrating. He tries to call Jisung again with trembling hands, taking his phone away with him. "Pick up, pick up." 

"So you're just going to leave? After everything we've done together?" Chan feels anger bubble up as every sentence leaves him, unable to stop himself as he takes, takes, takes in Minho making himself smaller. "After all I've done for you?!" 

Minho flinches, dropping his phone as it keeps on making that stupid sound. Chan chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head as he picks it up. He sees Jisung's contact, his lit up face looking straight back at him. He hangs up, pocketing Minho's phone in his pants.

"'ive me back my phwone, Chan." Minho warns, though Chan's no longer listening to him. He feels blood pumping faster in his veins, approaching Minho and relishing in the way his boyfriend trips and falls on his ass. 

"Is this what it really took for you to listen to me? Did it have to come to this, doll?" Chan sighs, cupping Minho's cheek in his hand. It really hurts him to see Minho broken. If anything, he's been wanting to fix him all along, to make it better for him, to be that constant reassurance and pillar in his life. His chest constricts in pain as Minho looks up at him with loathe. A few days back, those very same eyes were filled with dangling stars, admiration and gratefulness seeping in constellations. Chan knows they can go back to that, with a few little pushes and effort, only if he manages to somehow make Minho stay. He glances at the direction of the kitchen, biting his lower lip as he weighs his options. 

"You really won't stay, will you?" Chan breathes out, kneeling next to Minho. His boyfriend's lower lip wobbles, and Chan uses his thumb to get rid of a stray tear wetting his cheek. "Even if I ask you to? Even if I promise it will get better?" 

"Wh– what do 'ou think?" Minho whispers, avoiding his gaze. "I– I don' wan to see 'ou again, I– I said that." 

Chan nods, pursing his lips. 

"That's a shame." 

His hand snaps to Minho's hair, almost automatic, and grips in vice. His boyfriend goes to scream, only it becomes muffled as Chan covers his mouth with his other hand. It's almost a joke, just how easy it has become to manhandle his boyfriend, now lacking muscle and strength.

He drops Minho on the counter, turning around to get to the medicine in the cabinet below. He feels movement on his right, noticing Minho dashing to the door and he quickly grips the glass bottle, bolting behind him. He manages to grip Minho's shirt from the back, pulling him harshly as his body lands on the hard floor. Minho groans, crawling away pathetically from Chan. 

"Why– why are you doing this?" Minho wheezes, fear coating his every word. 

Chan sighs, wishing his boyfriend could just make this as easy as he could, but no matter how many times Chan tries to show he cares, no matter in what ways he insists that Minho needs that care, Minho shuts down. Maybe if he uses a different approach, Minho will come around. 

He lets his body weight fall fully on Minho, flipping him over so he's facing him. He pins his arms under his knees, using one hand to cover his nose. Minho, unaware of the medicine Chan holds with his other hand, begins to scream. His noises are immediately muffled out as Chan forces the medicine down his throat, gurgling sounds leaving him as he tries to spit it out. Chan can see the moment Minho realises what he's giving him, his eyes going bigger in panic as he runs out of breath and he's forced to gulp down the liquid. Chan smiles tenderly to him, even though their fight's gotten a little heated, there's nothing they haven't fixed with a little bit of cuddles and love. He puts Minho's medicine to the side, letting his boyfriend regain his breathing as he sobs uncontrollably. Chan attempts to soothe him, patting his shoulders in repetitive motions. 

He can barely see the piece of glass before it pierces his chest. He curses out as Minho pushes him and his back and head bump on the floor harshly. Chan looks down to what Minho just stabbed him with, the piece of his cat mug surrounded by small blotches of blood. 

He groans, running back to Minho, chasing him past the corridors of apartments, relieved his boyfriend's panicked brain blocked out the option for screaming for help. He reaches out, using his hand to engulf Minho's face as he drags him back. He pushes Minho inside, confirming that no one saw what happened as he peeks out, happy to find that it's the middle of the night and everyone's fast asleep. He closes the door, making sure to lock it and put Minho's keys inside his pocket, along with his phone. 

Chan's eyes smile grows bigger, noticing how Minho's movements grow clumsier, even if he tries to stand up. The medicine must be taking effect, definitely after taking in a bigger dose than he's used to. 

"Stay there." Chan instructs, feeling pride swell up inside him as Minho listens to him, probably too dizzy to even try and attempt another escape. "Good doll." 

Chan can tell Minho's still fighting the effects of the drug, even if his eyes are half closed and his body's so unresponsive. He takes pity on him, using his foot to push Minho's chest so he can finally let go, smiling tightly as his boyfriend goes easily and slumps to the ground with a thud. 

The sudden ring startles Chan out, and he fishes Minho's phone out of his pocket. It's Jisung calling back, probably worried sick that Minho called him so late at night. Chan rolls his eyes, kneeling next to Minho so he hears their conversation. 

"Hey, Ji." Chan says, pretending to be as tired as he can, mustering up a groggy voice. "What's up?" 

"Oh, hi Chan hyung!" Jisung's voice cheers, chuckling in nervousness. "Uh, I got a call from Minho hyung. Is everything alright?"

"Ah, sorry about that." Chan sheepishly says, shaking his head even. "His phone's broken, so it's easy to miscall." 

"Oh. Right, I haven't gotten any messages from him lately so… I guess that makes sense." Jisung pauses in the other line. There's a beat of silence, Chan holding his breath as he takes in Minho's terrified eyes. "Can I talk to him, though? I–"

"He's fast asleep, Ji." Chan sounds apologetic, though he's not even half lying; Minho's already closing his eyes. "Why don't you message him through my phone while I buy him another, though?" 

"Oh, sure, I've been dying to hear from him. Is he doing alright?" 

"He's doing better." Chan says, closing Minho's eyelids with his fingertips. His boyfriend doesn't try to open them up again. "But he told me he's not ready to go back just yet, if you know what I mean. He's still got a lot of recovery ahead of him." 

"Ri– right! I totally get that. He can take all the time he needs, be sure to tell him that for me." 

"Of course, Ji. I'll make sure to let him know." Chan says, sighing in relief when Minho's muscles go completely untense and his mouth goes apart. 

"Goodnight." He says, though his eyes don't leave Minho; not even once. 

Chan really is so in love. 

Notes:

girl what just happened....

disclaimer: do not romanticize this, it's fiction and dead dove for a reason

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of chan's precious doll