if without you || seongjoong

and it was painful

seonghwa woke up with hongjoong's absence.

he jerked from his position, sat on his bed instantly to check on his boyfriend.

it wasn't hard for seonghwa to find his boyfriend since the room wasn't that big.

hongjoong was on his laptop, legs crossed on the armchair, hands massaging his head slowly.

"joongie, is everything ok?" seonghwa croacked from the bed. 

"y-yes" he replied, stiffly putting his hands to the keyboard.

seonghwa scanned his boyfriend, making sure that he was okay.

his lips were dry and his face was pale. maybe it was because of the room temperature. or maybe because they haven't eaten anything.

"what time is it?" seonghwa asked.

"nine," the other replied.

how the hell hongjoong wasn't starving?

"i am going to ask them to bring our breakfast here, okay?" seonghwa informed his boyfriend.

hongjoong's lips stuttered, but he said yes.

seonghwa asked for their breakfast with two cups of hot tea to the receptionist. he spent a good four minutes on it, and when he ended the call, he silently peeked at hongjoong again. 

hongjoong was crouching on the armchair, eyes shut tightly as his hands were on his head again, but this time clenching to his hair tightly. 

"hongjoong. hey–hey, what happened? are you okay?" seonghwa rushed to hongjoong, immediately pull the armchair to face him. 

hongjoong wasn't responding, he was trying to swallow his whimpers. seonghwa crouched in front of hongjoong. "joongie?" his voice trembled in fear. 

"i don't–it's my head–seongh–it hurts-" hongjoong stuttered midway, gasping for air.

hongjoong fell into seonghwa's shoulder and seonghwa managed to catch him. hongjoong was leaning onto seonghwa's arms, his whimpers got louder. 

"since when–which part hurts the most?" seonghwa asked, concerned and frightened.

hongjoong was squirming in seonghwa's arms, his fingers still pulling his hair.

"everything hurts," hongjoong groaned faintly, breaths still stuttering.

seonghwa brought hongjoong's whole body to his arms, picked him up carefully to the bed.

hongjoong was still tossing and turning, fingers were still intertwined between his hair. seonghwa's mind ran around the mazes of possibilities of what had happened to hongjoong.

he thought hongjoong was sick because he had an upset stomach. so he grabbed the telephone, pressing the numbers quickly as his other hand holding hongjoong's bicep. 

this is room servi-"

"hi this is room 24. i asked for the breakfast, where is it?"

"your food is coming, sir. we are sorry for the inconvenience,''

"please make it fast,"

"sure, sir."

seonghwa then climbed on the connected beds, holding hongjoong's hand from balding himself.

"it fucking hurts," hongjoong whined, his right cheek pressed to the pillow. 

seonghwa lifted hongjoong slowly as he laid his lover to the headboard. his left hand held hongjoong's  hands, his right hand cupped hongjoong's forehead. hongjoong wasn't rejecting but his breaths were still unsteady.