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Hansung day is just trash. He’s having an awful day and it keeps getting worse and worse. He wakes up in an oddly bad mood; he’s not sure why everything is irritating and annoying him but is is . Then, not only is he late to two of his classes because he’s missed the bus, he’s forgot his homework, his head is throbbing, he’s gotten one of his textbooks wet in the rain and gets chewed out for being late to his second class, which really isn’t his fault because he was trying to dry off his textbook. He knows his professor is just being kind of a dick so he just grits his teeth and ignores it. But when he drops his coffee in the hall and most of it ends up on his sneakers that’s the final straw and he quickly mops it up with a scratchy paper towel before going to the bathroom to cry in the stall. 

It’s kind of gross crying in the chemistry lab bathroom but he needs to have his meltdown somewhere. He wants to go home. His head still hurts and he’s in such a bad mood that his stomach is starting to act up. Or maybe it’s the fact he’s only had a bagel and a few sips of coffee today. He’s only got one more class but he’s having an absolute meltdown because he feels so useless compared to his peers. At least some luck is on his side because he’s all alone in the bathroom and no one comes in to hear his crying.

When his phone vibrates in his bag he ignores it, favoring his emotional processing session over it. He’s feeling too many things he can’t handle right now. If he has to talk to anyone he’s just going to start hiccuping.

When his phone starts going off again he decides he’s done and doesn’t even check the ID.

What!? ” He yells into the phone, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“Excuse me?” Moomyung’s voice answers. Hansung feels a little guilty but he’s having the worst day and he’s going to let it take over the rational part of his brain. “Hansung, what’s going on? I called to tell you I was leaving work early.” 

Leaving work early? Maybe the angels above didn’t hate him as much as he thought. With a choked whisper Hansung decides that calculus can go fuck itself. “Can you pick me up?”

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“I just don’t feel good ,” the last part comes out as a whine and Hansung starts crying again. Just great , he thinks to himself. He’s crying like a brat in the bathroom because he’s dropped his coffee and can’t handle his own shit. He wishes that he could just grow up. He’s such a dumb baby no wonder his mates treat him like so. 

“Alright, I’m coming. Are you sick? Are you hurt?”

Moomyung’s voice is often a deep and stable tone but when Hansung hears the concern laced right on top he just cries, not answering. Moomyung is going to think he’s so immature once he realizes that he’s picking him up because he’s had a bad day. He hasn’t had a meltdown in so long he’s forgotten how awful and out of control he feels.

“Hansung, please answer me. What’s wrong?”

Hansung dries his eyes with the back of his hands and tries to calm down. “Don’ wanna talk about it—jus’ wan’ you,”

He’s never hated himself more.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll be in the main parking lot. Okay?”

“Uh huh.”

“Can you wash your face and take some deep breaths for me? I won’t hang up.”

Hansung really doesn’t want to. He wants to just scream and cry until he tires himself out and falls asleep.

“Can’t,” he whines, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t ,”

“Hansung, you’re okay. I’m coming to get you. Can you come to the parking lot?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

“Hyung, can I hang up? It’s rainy outside.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon, love.”

Love. Hansung feels weird about being called love. He thinks it’s weird that Moomyung and Ahro and Suho actually love him. He’s just a college kid and he’s not special and he cries too much and he’s not that smart. They always tell him how lovely he is and how much they love him but he’s not sure whether or not he really believes it. 

 He grabs his bag and books it out of the school, ignoring the concerned looks from others as he heads outside in the rain to go stand in the parking lot. He pops his umbrella open and lets the chill of the rainy wind cool his face. His eyes are probably red and puffy but he doesn’t care how gross he looks right now. Very soon after Moomyung’s black car is rolling right up to the curb he’s waiting on and he yanks open the door and climbs in, shaking his umbrella out before throwing it in the backseat. Moomyung is watching him intensely, waiting for something, but Hansung just buckles his seatbelt.

“Hansung, what happened?” He touches Hansung’s face, cradling the back of his head. “Can you talk to me?”

Hansung is still lightly crying, but he’s calmed down significantly from the bathroom to the car. He sniffs and tries not to sound whiny or needy.

“A lot; I had a really bad day and my head hurts really bad and my stomach feels weird.”

“I’m sorry baby,” Moomyung goes to take his hand, massaging his pressure points, kissing the back of his hand. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really,”

“Well, we’re going home now, today can be over if you want it to be.”

Moomyung goes to pull away from the curb and Hansung rests his head back and closes his eyes. His alpha’s words takes a weight off his shoulders. He didn’t have to deal with anything from today anymore. It could be over if he wanted it to be. He takes a deep breath and just listens to the rain pounding against the road as they drive by.

A part of him still wants to ask for Moomyung’s . . . approval, maybe, that meltdowns we’re still appropriate at his age but he’s too embarrassed. The more he rests the sillier he feels. And he feels much too silly to go ‘hey, Hyung, is it okay that I nearly threw a fit?’ But Ahro won’t be home for a few more hours and he needs someone to talk to.

“U-um, Hyung?”

“Hm?” 

Moomyung gives Hansung a small glance to let him know he’s listening. Should he really be distracting him while he’s driving in the rain? For something like validation especially?

“I . . . can I talk to you?”

“Of course. I’m listening,”

Hansung plays with the ring on his thumb, twisting it up and down and around his finger. “I’m sorry you had to come get me. I just, I’m, I-I didn’t know how to . . . handle everything.”

“It’s fine, Hansungie, don’t apologize. You shouldn’t have to apologize for your emotions,”

Hansung’s stomach twists. “I had a meltdown. After I dropped my coffee. It was just—that’s not the only reason! It was just the final straw. I guess I just woke up in a bad mood.”

“That’s okay.”

Hansung starts to cry again now, not feeling comfortable with Moomyung’s responses. They’re both probably a little confused, dancing around one another too cautiously to the point where it seems casual. He hates it.

“I barely got to drink my coffee and I dropped it and it got all over my shoes and my shoes are wet! And my textbook got wet and I was late to two classes because I missed the bus and I know you always get me there on time but it was my fault and my professor was mean and I forgot my worksheet and I feel like I’m being stabbed in the eye! And I’m hungry but my stomach hurts!” 

Hansung tries not to lose control but when Moomyung pulls the car over he can’t help but cry into his hands. His parents harsh words are playing in the back of his head like a broken record, the shame and stigma of his overstimulated behavior coursing through his body. Crybaby, crybaby. It makes him feel even worse. And to top it off he was crying in Moomyung’s car and he cannot stop. 

“I’ll buy you a new coffe”—

“It’s not just that!”

“Hansung,” Moomyung’s voice is soft and he’s pulling him as close as he can in the front seat, “it’s okay. It’s not your fault. You had a bad day and your cup is too full and you’re very overwhelmed.”

“I am and it sucks and I can’t stop crying, I’m sorry!”

“Shh, crying is perfectly normal.”

“M-my parents said it was for babies and attention seeking but I can’t help it! It’s not my fault !” 

“Exactly. It’s not your fault. You’re not a baby, you’re a college student with a full plate. You need a way to process your emotions but because you’re not on medication or seeing a therapist you can’t exactly do that on your own, can you?”

Hansung shakes his head. Moomyung is kissing his hands up and down, squeezing them.

“I know you’re a smart boy and know all about the spoons and cup theory, I don’t need to explain them. But you need to stop punishing yourself for things that are beyond your control. Today was not your day and that’s okay. Cry all you want, you’re not a baby and you’re not seeking attention. It’s not a tantrum Hansung it’s a meltdown. I’m glad I was able to come get you, I’m glad you trust me enough to talk to me.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was a brat. Everyone else used to.”

“You’re not a brat. Though you can be bratty,” Moomyung laughs a little and his breath tickles Hansung’s hand. He frowns, not happy with the joke. “Sorry baby. But it's over now. Hyung will take you home and we’ll change into pajamas and you can take a nap after you eat something.”

Hansung nods and wipes his eyes again. All the crying has left his head pounding on the left side of his head which is the worst. “Can we go now?”

“Of course, little prince,” Moomyung presses his lips to Hansung’s palm before starting the engine again and pulling back onto the road. Hansung blows his nose on the sleeve of his sweater and immediately Moomyung raises his voice.

“Don’t! Do that. There’s tissues in the glove box. Don’t do that,”

Hansung snorts a little, seeing how grossed out he’s gotten over it. He doesn’t think it’s a big deal—he’s going to throw his clothes into the laundry once he’s home anyway. 

“Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Do you do that often? Blow your nose on your clothes?”

“No?”

“Because if you do I’m not hugging you anymore.”

Hansung takes the small packet of tissues out of the glovebox to blow his nose properly. “It’s just snot. It’s not a big deal.”

“Use the tissues,” 

Hansung rests his head back again but opts to stare at Moomyung instead of try and nap. He wishes he could hold his hand again but he’s driving and wants to make it home in one piece. 

“Hyung, thanks.”

“For the tissues? Or the sweater I bought you that you used as a tissue?” 

Moomyung’s lips peak into a small smile and Hansung giggles. 

“No. For picking me up and being nice to me.”

“I’m always nice to you, aren’t I?” Moomyung stops at a light and turns to him.

“You know what I mean! Just—letting me cry. I just need to cry sometimes and then I’ll be okay but . . .”

Moomyung starts driving once the light turns green. “But?”

“Oh I wasn’t going to finish that sentence, I had nothing else to say. Millennial culture.”

“I wasn’t aware of that aspect of millennial culture but alright.” 

Hansung is quiet the rest of the ride until they pull up to the house, in which Moomyung tells him to wait getting out. He opens the door for him and grabs his bag while Hansung goes to grab his umbrella. He holds the umbrella while Moomyung unlocks the door and he rushes inside, tossing his boots off onto the mat in the entry hall. The house is warm and smells like soup broth which means Suho must be home.

“Who’s here?” He calls from the kitchen.

“It’s us,” Moomyung says, having trouble pulling his shoe off. Hansung decides to leave his bag on the hook and forget about it for tonight completely. He doesn’t want to bother with school work or his phone for now. He just wants ibuprofen and a nap.

“You’re both back early?” Suho stands in the hall now just out of the kitchen doorway. He looks a little suspicious but doesn’t ask anything else.

“Yup. We’re gonna have a quiet night in.” Moomyung finally frees his foot from the shoe and neatly lined them up on the mat. 

“Cool. I made soup—Hansungie, what happened? Your eyes are all red.”

“I smoked a fat blunt.”

What ?” Suho looks from Hansung to Moomyung, bewildered. “Are you kidding?”

Moomyung snickers.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I, um, had a, I guess, a meltdown. I’m okay—I just don’t feel good.”

“Oh,” Suho’s face softens, “well go get changed, okay? Do you want aspirin or anything? You should eat something before you take it, there’s soup and crackers, so get some of that. And drink some water you’re probably dehydrated.”

Hansung nods as he shuffles upstairs to change into his sweats. Part of him kind of wishes he stuck with the blunt lie but his mates seem keen on taking care of him. It’s a nice change from growing up shunned for being a crybaby.

Once he’s changed he heads downstairs to get something for his headache, deciding to take it before he eats anything. His stomach still feels queasy from the ride and hopefully it’ll settle with a couple ibuprofen. His mates are on the couch, Moomyung in sweatpants, sipping broth out of a mug. Hansung sits on the couch and lies against him. 

“You don’t want anything to eat?”

“No, my stomach still feels funny.”

“My poor baby,” Moomyung pulls him into his lap and Hansung rests his head against his shoulder. 

“I’m tired,”

“Take a nap. I’m not going anywhere,”

Hansung feels Moomyung press a kiss to his head, his large hands rubbing circles onto his back. It’s soothing enough for him to close his eyes but he doesn’t fall asleep, enjoying the warmth radiating from his alpha. Moomyung can be as sweet as he is strict and that’s okay, really. He just wants to be held, glad that today is finally over.