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Subong knows something is wrong the moment he steps into the house. He’d like to blame his spidey senses, but it’s mostly due to the fact that the house is quiet- a rare abnormality. This isn’t to say that he waits for Namgyu to be at his beck and call, at his feet with a leash begging for a walk- no matter how much that thought excites him some days- but his fiancé is usually there to greet him when he comes home, and Subong frowns as he’s forced to hang his jacket up quietly.
“Namgyu?”
No answer. The other man keeps some noise in the house almost all of the time, whether it’s music from the speaker they installed in the living room or an old Disney movie playing on the TV. The house is never this quiet, and Subong feels his pulse quicken as he calls out again, a little louder.
He doesn’t mean to worry about Namgyu this much. The boy has made a lot of progress in the last four years they’ve been together, though, like anyone, he slips up sometimes. Subong walks faster throughout the hallway, checking each room and grunting in concern when he doesn’t find Namgyu. He approaches the art studio he had designed for Namgyu and sighs in relief at the figure of the other man, sitting on the floor, unusually still.
“Nam?”
The other boy doesn’t look up, doesn’t make any indication that he’s even heard him, and Subong tries to push back his panic as he approaches him. He’s surrounded by crumpled up papers and broken pencils, staring blankly off at his sketchbook as he rips another page off and tosses it weakly next to him. Subong hisses in discomfort as he gets on his knees, coming up behind him.
“Namgyu, love,” he starts, gently placing his hands on his shoulders. Namgyu doesn’t respond, but his sharp intake of breath lets Subong know that he’s at least conscious enough to know he’s there- a step up from some of his other breakdowns. Subong applies a bit more pressure on his shoulders and leans in closer, pressing a tiny kiss to his back. “Hey.”
Namgyu blinks in response, his breathing picking up just a bit, and Subong massages him with gentle pressure. Slowly, after a few moments of silence, the younger boy puts the broken pencil down, and Subong can see the bloody marks of broken wood on his skin, as well as blood under his fingernails, which usually means he’s scratched himself up somewhere else. Subong sighs, sounding a little disappointed, and it only makes Namgyu feel worse.
“Sorry, I’m- sorry, I’m sorry-“
“Shhh,” Subong shushes him, squeezing him a bit harder. “None of that.”
Namgyu closes his eyes and leans back, resting his weight on Subong, who moves his hands down to his chest and rubs strong, firm circles against his skin. Subong kisses him, feather light, on his cheek and Namgyu cracks his eyes open, bloodshot and tired.
“Hi.”
Namgyu hums a little in response, his eyes still dazed. If Subong didn’t know better, he would make an assumption that he’s high as hell, but he knows that the boy has made a drastic cut on his weed consumption, and never smokes without him anymore. Subong kisses him again and takes a deep breath, Namgyu mimicking it without even knowing. Subong slides over so he’s facing him.
“What do you need?”
Namgyu whines a little, his hands going up to cover his face. Subong stops him by grasping his wrists gently, bringing them back down to his side. He takes both of the younger boys wrists in one hand and uses the other to tilt his chin up.
Namgyu blinks slowly and shakes his head, letting his eyes fall shut. He knows, even in his rough state, that Subong won’t let him off that easy, and uses an incredible amount of energy to open his mouth.
“Just- can you..” he trails off, his voice pathetic and quiet. Subong keeps his grip on his chin.
“Words, please.”
Namgyu keeps his eyes closed. Normally, Subong would push for eye contact, but he figures he’ll throw the boy a bone. Namgyu takes a slow deep breath before speaking.
“Shut my brain up. Please.”
Subong rubs his thumb over his jaw, nodding. “I can do that. Good boy. Thank you.”
Namgyu told him once, after sex, when he’s extra amiable with the topic of his own needs, that on days like this, he needs Subong to take charge. To make decisions, to order him around, to get him out of his head. Subong naturally floated toward a dominant role in their relationship, mostly out of his desire to take care of Namgyu, but it heightened the most once they got comfortable with each other in bed. Subong has prepared himself enough to know the difference between sexual and non-sexual dominance, however, and the boy is desperately needing the latter.
Subong stays there for a moment, trying to make a game plan. He looks over the boy, trying to spot all the small injuries he has to tend to, and attempts to gauge just how far gone he is. When he lets go of his hands, he notices something new.
He’s not wearing his engagement ring.
Namgyu had told him a few times that if he was ever caught without the ring on his finger to shoot him dead, because that’s his evil clone. Now, obviously, Subong barely entertains the idea of an evil clone, especially due to the fact that the fantasy turns far too sexual far too quickly, but it makes him panic a little bit more about where the boy's head is. Subong stands, cracking his knees out before reaching down, guiding Namgyu into a standing position.
The younger boy grunts a little in pain as the pressure is lifted off his knees, and Subong realises that he has no way of telling just how long he was sitting on the ground for. He walks the two of them over to the bathroom and sits Namgyu down on the toilet seat, grabbing the first aid kit from the cupboard and getting to work. He gently strips Namgyu of his hoodie and winces at the ugly scratch marks on his forearms and wrists, still bleeding lightly, as well as the many different scabs and scars he’s picked at on his knuckles, and of course, the wooden splinters jammed into his fingers.
He kneels down on the floor as he starts to clean him up, humming quietly. Namgyu is still staring off in the distance, his jaw clenched painfully, his eyes clouded over. Subong begins to talk aimlessly about his day, knowing that Namgyu isn’t listening, but feeling a little desperate to fill the tense silence. He dabs at the scratch marks with a cotton pad and frowns, putting some cream on before covering his forearms with the strip bandages. He grabs the tweezers and carefully plucks out the splinters, wiping the sores down with some warm water and soap.
Subong brings his hands to his lips and kisses his knuckles gently, the act soft enough for Namgyu to drag his eyes down in his direction, still not meeting his gaze. The boy take a shaky breath as he stares down at himself, his eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, and Subong begins to roll up the legs on his sweatpants, wincing at the angry red marks on his kneecaps from sitting on them for too long.
He grabs some cream and massages it into his legs, pressing a kiss on each one before rolling his pants down and leaving to grab a new hoodie for the boy. Namgyu allows himself to be manhandled into the kitchen, where Subong opens the fridge.
“What did you eat today?”
He frames it well, after many mistakes of asking that question wrong. If he asks whether or not Namgyu’s eaten, the boy would always nod non-committedly, and Subong believed him once or twice before realizing his issue.
Namgyu doesn’t answer, just shrugs and shrinks down into himself further, as if expecting Subong to get angry at him. The older boy sighs a little and grabs some fruit from the fridge, wanting to get his blood sugar up a bit before they ate a real meal together. He slides a plate over to Namgyu who scrunches his face up in disgust, shaking his head.
“I’m not asking. Eat.” His voice isn’t unkind, but it definitely has a firmer tone to it. This usually does things to Namgyu in bed that he forces himself not to think of right now, but in this moment, it only makes the defeated boy look annoyed. Subong has half the nerve to smile at his attitude. He sticks a frozen pizza in the oven without care.
Namgyu eyes him quickly and brings a grape up to his mouth, chewing slowly. Subong watches him intensely over the duration of the ten minutes it takes him to clear that plate, if only to make sure he swallows his food. Once he’s done, Subong grabs the plate from him, kissing him on the forehead.
“Good boy,” he praises. Namgyu closes his eyes and leans forward, pressing his forehead into his chest. “Thank you for listening to me. You’re so good, you know that?” Subong brings a hand up to his head and scratches at the nape of his neck lightly, his other hand moving to rub circles on his sides. He can feel Namgyu let out a shaking breath and grab onto the back of his sweater, his shoulders starting to shake.
“Hey, hey,” Subong pulls back a bit and Namgyu whines, grasping him tighter. “What’s going on, baby?”
“I’m not.. I’m not good.”
Subong tuts disapprovingly, moving his hands to the other boys cheeks and lightly thumbing away the tears that have fallen over, shaking his own head. “You’re so good. The best.”
But Namgyu only cries harder. Subong knows instantly that this is something deeper than just his regular ‘bad brain days’, as Gi-hun politely coined it. He remembers the first day he saw him get to this point- catatonic in bed, not acknowledging Subong’s desperate words or shakes. He had called over to the older man in a panic, wondering if he had to get an ambulance over, but Gi-hun had some experience from his studies in psychiatry, and gave him some good advice on how to help him. He’s only gotten this bad a handful of times over the years.
Subong wants to shake the answers out of him, find out what’s making him feel so terrible, but he knows any questioning now will just make the broken man feel worse, so he checks the timer on the oven and pulls Namgyu up.
“C’mon, let’s get in the bath.”
Namgyu doesn’t say anything, as expected, but trails behind him, still sniffling and wiping at his face every couple seconds. Subong starts up the water and peeks over at Namgyu, who has a distant look in his eyes again.
Subong snaps his fingers right in front of his face, shocking the boy enough that blinks and comes back to himself. “There’s my boy.” He gets his clothes off quickly with very little help from Namgyu, and helps to transfer him into the tub. He watches as some of the tension melts from his shoulders, but his jaw is still tight, and his fists are still clenched. Subong scrubs at him with the washcloth, being extra careful not to wet his new bandages, and takes a glance at him every couple minutes.
Namgyu mumbles something so soft that Subong can only catch a few words, and he hums gently. “What was that, mumbles?”
Namgyu lifts his head up to meet his eyes for the first time, and his expression is empty. Not sad, or angry, or hurt- just empty. It scares Subong greatly. “You.. you shouldn’t have to do this.”
“Do what?” Subong pushes, grabbing the shampoo and putting a bit on his hands.
Namgyu tears his eyes away, going back to staring at the wall. He tucks his chin into his chest and sniffles. “Take care of me.”
“Mm, none of that,” Subong chastises, moving so he can lather up his hair. “I know I don’t have to do anything. I choose to. Because I love you, and because you’d do the same for me.”
Namgyu doesn’t buy it.
“Hey,” Subong puts a little more emphasis in his voice, falling back into the dominance he thinks Namgyu needs more than anything. “Enough of that. I’m serious. Stop thinking. Just be here with me, I’ll take the lead. You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about anything, okay?”
Namgyu closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, allowing himself to slip into a different mindset. He relaxes almost entirely into the water, so much so that Subong knows if he moved the hand under his neck, the boy would dunk right under the water. He washes out the shampoo and conditions his hair.
When he pulls him out of the bath, the boy is lax- quiet, which scares him a little more. He dries him off and dresses him up, taking an extra few minutes to hold him on the bed. He can see the wheels turning in Namgyu’s head before the boy reaches over with shaking hands and grabs the front of his sweatpants, moving his palm in an expert way.
And as much as Subong would love a handjob from his crying, shaking, emotionally wrecked fiance who can’t even wipe the snot from under his nose right now, he quickly puts a stop to it, grasping onto Namgyu’s wrist.
Wrong move.
Before Subong can speak, Namgyu rips himself up, anger and hurt in his eyes as he storms over to the bathroom, locking the door. Subong sits there for a minute, stunned, before he wills his legs to work, following in his direction.
“Nam, love, come on. You’re not in the right place right now for anything like that to happen. You know that.”
When all he can hear from the other side of the door is muffled cries, he starts to panic, thinking of everything in the bathroom that could hurt him. Razors, scissors, the chipped edge of the mirror that occurred when Subong underestimated his strength during a not-so-appropriate activity that involved Namgyu being thrust upon the sink, and all the pills that reside in their medicine cabinet. He knocks on the door much harder.
“Namgyu,” he starts, surprising himself at the sharpness of his voice. “Open the fucking door. Now. I’m not gonna ask again.”
He doesn’t receive an answer, just hears the boy cry harder, and he regrets ever letting anyone install a lock in the bathroom. He bangs on the door, hard, angry- unable to keep his fears at bay, and only stops when Namgyu’s upset cries change pitch.
He’s scared of him.
Subong forces himself to take a deep breath, clenching his fists at his side and pressing his forehead against the door, straining his ears to listen for any movement that might indicate Namgyu hurting himself. He squeezes his eyes shut and opens his mouth, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Open the door, Namgyu. Everything’s okay. I’m not upset at you.”
Slowly, tentatively, the lock clicks. Subong rushes in, his eyes frantically looking over the boy, but he’s unharmed, sitting on the ground with his face pressed into his knees. Subong is in front of him in a second, shushing him, kissing his hands, trying to do anything to calm himself and the shaking boy down.
“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay-“ he doesn’t know if he’s telling Namgyu or himself this. “Everything’s okay. Look at me, sweetheart. Everything is fine.”
He sits down, pulling Namgyu into his lap and rocking both of them back and forth, his hand pressing little shapes into his back as the boy holds him and cries. Eventually, he tires himself out, slumping a bit against Subong and exhaling shakily.
“Are you all done?” Subong asks, his voice soft and kind. Namgyu nods against him but makes no effort to move off of his position.
“Good. Thank you for opening the door. You did such a good job at listening to me,” Subong praises. “You’re such a good boy-”
“I’m not,” Namgyu’s voice breaks from where it’s pressed against Subong’s chest. “I’m not. You shouldn’t be here. You should be with someone else. Who can give you what you want.”
Subong wants to protest, but he knows if he interrupts him, he’ll just stop talking, and he really wants to get to the bottom of this. “What do I want, hm?”
Namgyu chokes the words out like they’re hurting him. “Someone- someone else. Who isn’t like this.”
“Like what, baby?”
“Someone who isn’t a fucking freak,” Namgyu cries, pulling back and staring up at Subong with confusion and sadness in his eyes. “Someone normal. Who can give you what you want- what you need.”
“I have everything I need right here,” Subong responds, rubbing his thumbs over Namgyu’s arms. “I don’t want anything else.”
“Someone who doesn’t do this shit everytime they’re a little bit sad!” Namgyu rips his arm out, thrusting the bandages toward Subong. When the older boy doesn’t give him a reaction, he drops his arm, the fight leaving him. “You want a baby,” he whispers, looking down at the floor.
Ah. There it is.
Subong sighs a little and pulls back, standing up. Namgyu just blinks at him curiously. “Let’s go.” He holds out a hand and Namgyu hesitates before taking it. “We’ve spent too much time on the floor. Come on.”
They head to the living room, sitting down on the couch. Subong grabs the remote wordlessly and throws it on a random channel, wanting to focus on breaking the sadness in Namgyu’s eyes before they have a real conversation.
Subong goes to pull him into his side once a movie is on, but Namgyu is stiff as a rock, staring nervously at the ground. Subong winces as he realises what he’s gotta do. He clears his throat and sits up, tapping Namgyu on the leg to get his attention, before looking down at the ground. He throws a pillow in front of him and nods his head at it.
“Sit.”
Namgyu relaxes a bit, quick to follow commands. He slowly goes down on the ground in front of Subong, watching him closely for his reaction, and Subong hums in affirmative as the boy settles between his legs, resting his head on his thigh. Subong rests a hand in his wet hair.
“Good.”
Subong feels a little awkward. It’s not that he doesn't like this- truthfully, he likes it a lot more than he’d ever let on, but he doesn’t like dehumanizing the boy when he’s feeling down already. But as he watches the tightness leave the boy- his shoulders relaxing, his jaw unclenching, his fists resting politely on his own legs- he knows he made the right move. He allows Namgyu to sit silently for close to twenty minutes, small sniffles coming from him every couple moments, his breathing evening out.
The timer on the oven dings, scaring the ever loving shit out of both of the boys, who were lost in their own worlds. Namgyu lets out something close to a weak chuckle- a short exhale through his nose, at best, but Subong will take it. He gently maneuvers Namgyu to rest his head on the pillow and goes to the oven, pulling the pizza out. He cuts it up into slices and returns to the couch, blowing on one of the slices before bringing it down to Namgyu’s mouth. The boy looks up at him, nervous, and Subong raises an eyebrow back down at him.
“Eat, please.”
Namgyu keeps his eyes on him as he slowly moves in, taking a bite of the food in his hand. Subong smiles, using his free hand to wipe his hair off of his forehead. They slowly work through a couple slices, Subong eating a few of his own in between bites for Namgyu, and then the boy shakes his head, settling it back down on his thigh. Subong’s hand returns to his hair and he runs his fingers through it, helping it dry a bit faster.
After far too long of silence, Subong coughs a bit and taps him on the cheek, asking for his attention. Namgyu meets his eyes, his own blinking sleepily, but Subong knows he can’t wait for this conversation.
“Come up here.”
Namgyu raises himself with his weak hands, sitting next to Subong nervously on the couch. He grabs his hands and squeezes them.
“Are you feeling a bit better?”
Namgyu shrugs, looking down at their connected hands. Subong squeezes him again.
“Use your words.”
“Uh, a bit, I guess,” Namgyu’s voice is scratchy and sad, and Subong rewards him by pulling him into his chest, adjusting so they’re laying down, Namgyu tucked safely between him and the side of the couch.
“You know we have to talk about this, right?” Subong presses a kiss to his cheek. Namgyu sighs unhappily.
“Do we have to?”
“Yep, sorry.” Subong truly is sorry. He wishes they could go to sleep and rest, put this behind them, but it can’t be fixed if it can’t be spoken about.
Namgyu takes a moment to collect his thoughts, moving so his cheek is resting against Subong’s chest, breathing in the smell of his cologne and closing his eyes. “I was drawing.”
“Okay.” Subong runs a hand down his back, resting it on his lower back and massaging the skin gently. Namgyu squirms a bit to get more comfortable.
“I was drawing up a design for.. for the nursery.” His voice gains a little bit of its regular strength. Subong nods above him. “And I just.. I couldn’t get it right. No matter how many versions I tried, I fucked something up. Then I... I started thinking of everything else I’ve fucked up. And then I just couldn’t stop.”
Subong allows his hand to continue rubbing up and down his back.
“And.. and all I could think of is.. is how much better you deserve. How you’re so fucking amazing, and beautiful, and soft, and how I’m this.. this rough ugly thing that keeps hurting you. And all you want is to.. to have a baby, and I can’t-“ he stops himself, inhaling deeply. “I can’t do that for you. And you should be with someone who can.”
Subong just nods, listening. It’s silent for a moment before he speaks.
“Is that why you took your ring off?”
Namgyu nods slowly, embarrassed, against his chest. “I… I knew I couldn’t leave you. And I knew I couldn’t make you leave. I thought-“ he hiccuped, fresh tears pooling in his eyes. He squeezes them shut in shame, and Subong hums for him to continue. “I thought I could just…”
“Just what, baby?”
Namgyu cries a little harder. “I haven’t thought about it since highschool. I didn’t want to, I just- I just didn’t know what else I could do. I wanted to set you free and.. and just end everything else.”
Subong swallows thickly. “What were you gonna do?” He asks. He doesn’t want the answer, but he has to know if this is going to go any deeper, if he needs help that’s above him. Namgyu shakes his head.
“I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I just- it came in my head for a second, and then I just.. I couldn’t think of anything. My brain was just screaming at me, that- that I was selfish for holding onto you, that I’m not worth staying alive, that I ruined your life. I wanted it all to stop. And then you came home.” He sniffles, wiping his eyes. Subong holds him impossibly closer.
“I’ll always come home to you,” he whispers.
Namgyu takes a deep breath, sticking his face in Subong’s neck. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know- I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Subong brings one of his hands to the nape of his neck, kneading the skin there softly. “And everything your brain was telling you, all of it, is complete bullshit. None of it’s true. Not one word.”
Namgyu grasps onto his sweater. He’s practically melting on top of him at this point, but Subong knows he needs to hear this.
“And apparently we need to get one thing crystal clear. Yeah, I want a baby. I want ten. I want my own little baseball team,” he pokes at Namgyu, smiling as he lets out a tiny laugh. “But believe it or not, I’m very well versed in your reproductive system. I knew you couldn’t give me a baby the second I saw you. And guess what?”
Namgyu exhales. “What?”
“I still wanted you. You are my family, Nam. I don’t care if it’s just us, or if there’s forty of us in a tiny Mormon community. I will be thrilled with my life no matter what- as long as you’re with me. I ask myself every day what I did to deserve you, and to hear that you think of yourself this way, it.. it breaks my heart. But it’s not your fault.”
Namgyu sniffles, pressing a kiss to his neck.
“It’s not your fault, Namgyu. You have depression. Your brain is working against you most of the time. And it’s scary- I know, it’s scary. But you need to come to me before you get to this point.”
“I was embarrassed.”
“I know. I understand that. But unfortunately,” he pokes him on the side again. “I don’t care. I need to know how you’re feeling, how I can help, and you were so amazing for asking me for what you needed today. I’m so proud of you for that. But you need to tell me before it gets this far.”
Namgyu nods slowly, moving his arm to wrap around Subong’s shoulder. He closes his eyes and exhales shakily.
“I love you so much, sweetheart. I haven’t had a second where I haven’t been in love with you since the moment I saw you.”
“I love you, too,” Namgyu replies sleepily. Subong, ever the bad cop, forces them up and to bed, muttering something about being too damn old to sleep on the couch anymore. When they pass the nursery, Namgyu stops, staring at the crib in the corner and frowning. Subong wraps his arms around his waist and squeezes him gently.
“It’ll happen if it’s meant to. Nothing much we can do about it right now.”
Namgyu nods, moving forward and closing the door. He works his way over to the art studio and grabs the ring off the table, going to put it back to its rightful place on his finger, when Subong stops him.
“Ah ah ah,” he tuts, grabbing the ring from him. “Let’s do it properly. Since you ruined my last proposal,” he teases before getting down on one knee. Namgyu rolls his eyes but lets him ask, mumbling out an affirmative as Subong slides it onto his finger before helping him stand back up. Subong presses a soft kiss to his lips and Namgyu lets himself melt into the touch, smiling a bit against his lips.
They pile into bed, Namgyu barely letting Subong lay down before he’s pouncing, climbing next to him and closing his eyes sleepily. Subong laughs a bit and struggles to turn the lamp off, welcoming the darkness.
“I’m sorry,” Namgyu whispers a few minutes later, when Subong was already convinced he was asleep. The sound of his voice startles him a bit.
“What are you sorry for, love?”
Namgyu thinks for a moment. There’s a lot that comes to mind. He’s sorry he worried him, sorry he upset him, sorry he thought momentarily about leaving him and the rest of the world. But Subong has drilled into his head about the necessity of not apologizing for things he can’t control, so he finds something tangible.
“I'm sorry I molested you while I was having a breakdown.”
Subong snorts out a laugh and kisses his forehead. “Happens to the best of us.”