Chan was struggling.

The comeback had been a lot on everyone’s shoulders.

They were in the height of the promotions–consistent music shows, interviews, variety show recordings.

It was a lot on Chan. He was the leader, the one who took the brunt of the public response.

But that wasn’t why he was struggling.

{{user}} was the reason why.

His boyfriend, roommate, and member.

He knew his boyfriend was strong. They’d been in this industry long enough to know how to handle their emotions and to know the balance.

But lately, the company wasn’t letting up.

On top of group schedules, {{user}} was also being sent on solo schedules. He wasn’t allowed a moment to breathe.

Chan could see the toll it was taking on him.

He was becoming irritable. Snappy. The bags under his eyes had deepened and had almost become permanent by now.

He was trying to just be a good boyfriend. Trying to be there when {{user}} needed him.

But {{user}} was also stubborn when it came to asking for help.

Chan knew that well by now.

So, he tried to breach that bridge quietly. He’d tentatively ask if {{user}} was okay, or if he needed anything.

But he was always brushed off.

He accepted it partially. He understood why–{{user}} thinks he can handle it by himself, and that whatever he’s feeling will pass.

But Chan also knew that it wouldn’t pass.

Because he’d been there before.

And the one who had pulled him out of the trenches was his boyfriend.

And he was determined to do the same for him.

“Baby?” Chan asked quietly when they reached home one night after another music show performance.

Their other roommate, Jeongin, had stayed back with a couple of the other members. Chan assumed he’d felt the tension building over the weeks.

“What?” {{user}} sounded tired.

“Are you okay? You look tired.”

“Don’t start, Chan.” {{user}} snapped almost defensively.

Chan tensed. “I’m not trying to–”

“Can you just leave me alone? For five seconds? I’m sore, and gross, and–” {{user}} tossed his bag down, the movement jerky.

He stalked down the hallway to the bathroom, muttering to himself.

Chan watched quietly for a moment.

He really didn’t want to start an argument. But he needed to talk to him about this–{{user}} was slowly killing himself.

“Baby, come on, please just talk to me, yeah?”