NCT ONESHOTS

Confidant | Dotae

Doyoung sighed as his head hit his pillow. Lavender filed the room, flushing his nostrils, but made no difference to the throb beneath his skull. Why? Dance practice that day was particularly strenuous due to the unfortunate appearance of a headache in the form of a twenty year old vocalist.

And no, it wasn't like he hated any of his group members. He had never even so much disliked any of the other members - at most, it had just seemed like it on the outside. He was often mistaken for being irritated, when really it was just an expression and was never anything deeper than that. Doyoung loved everybody.

But Haechan. My god was he loud.

Somehow, during the earliest hours of the morning, Haechan had managed to project the energy of a thousand gazelles into their dance practice room. He mastered the choreo - as always - and helped others with certain moves, but when he began to shriek like there was no tomorrow, that was when Doyoung take a moment to himself outside.

The room had quietened down as they all one by one noticed their friend's departure. Of course, it wasn't unlike one of them to isolate themselves to gather their focus, but the way Doyoung just left the room struck a bitter chord in the air.

Haechan subdued after that. He knew he could be a little overbearing sometimes. He stopped chasing Mark around and trying for his affections, instead taking it upon himself to scout out their motherly vocalist.

He actually found him just outside the door with his head against the wall, eyes shut, body still. A few people eyed him curiously as they past, but none interrupted his antics.

"Hey," Haechan said softly. At this point, he usually would have bombarded him with his physical touch, but he knew when enough was enough, and that was now. Doyoung slowly opened his eyes and turned his head, allowing Haechan to continue. "I'm sorry for being so loud today. I really didn't mean to be so annoying."

Doyoung smiled softly. "It's not that. I'm just feeling a little off today."

Haechan paused. "Do you want to come back in?"

There was a quiet moment, in which the older straightened his back and clicked his shoulder with a silenced hum. He raised his hand to the other's face and ran his thumb over his cheekbone. Just as quickly, he dropped his hand back to his side and walked away to room.

"Yeah, let's go."

And now, back in his room sixteen tiring hours later, he couldn't be more thankful for his bedsheets.

His senses numbed of the floral fabrics and rhythmic ticks and tocks of a distant clock.

But of course, the peaceful loneliness only lasted so long.

Soon, vanilla masked lavender and the refreshing cold of solace died into a comforting warmth, and a gentle hum in greeting soothed the racket beneath his eyelids. A moment passed between them, and although Doyoung had his eyes closed, it was no mystery who it was.

"How are you doing?" Taeyong asked softly. He didn't want to disturb the fragile quiet in the air.

Doyoung shuffled comfortably into the embrace, using his left hand to pull the leader's leg further up his body. How was he doing, though? Currently, his headache had only just started to fade since their early start. In terms of physical health, once his throbbing head subsided, he'd be able to say he was perfectly fine.

Mentally was a different question.

The strain of having to be flawless was getting to be too much at times, too demanding.

How was it possible to be flawless and perfect, but to also have emotions to show you're human?

Because those emotions could only be particular emotions that the fanbase agreed with and agreed to support.