Donghae closes his eyes for just a second, leaning his head against the headrest. Heechul is still telling some story in between breathless laughter, extra loud in the dim confines of the van. He’s not sure what it’s about, just that each time Heechul starts to wind down, Youngwoon throws in some comment or other that gets him started again. Peeking his eyes open, Donghae notices that Jungsu is quiet as well. So he’s not the only one crashing from the adrenaline so quickly.

It had been particularly high that night. By the time they’d done final bows, Siwon’s hand in Donghae’s left and Hyukjae’s in his right, he’d been feeling so keyed up that he thought they could do a whole concert set again and he’d still be full of energy.

Guess he was wrong. They’re in the other van, now. Siwon and Hyukjae. Donghae wonders if it’s quieter in there.

There’s a headache starting to form by the time they file back into the dorms. Jungsu opts to sit up with tahe others for a while longer and Donghae doesn’t feel like going to bed alone, so he takes a little painkiller for his head and sits at the table with them.

Finally, hyung yawns hugely and Donghae stands. “Should we sleep?”

Jungsu closes his mouth and furrows his brow. “You okay?”

“Tired. It was a long night, wasn’t it?” He smiles blandly. He’ll feel better in the morning.

“Okay,” Jungsu claps his hands once to address everyone, “Manager hyungs are all asleep, let’s not keep them up.”

Not even Heechul argues, so they all separate to their rooms. Donghae lets himself fall face-first into bed. Either sleep or that pill will kick in to take care of his headache any minute now.

-

He wakes up again and tries to squint at the clock, but the numbers’ glow hurts his head. His neck hurts when he turns to look a the other bed, Jungsu hyung a dark lump of sheets, fast asleep. Donghae groans quietly, pressing a hand to his head when his stomach roils with the movement of turning to look. He takes three deep breaths.

Okay. He lowers his hand, ignoring that it shakes. Okay, he’ll just take another pill or two, there’s no reason to wake up his hyung. Maybe crawl into Jungsu’s bed after; he’s kind of cold. Only because he’s alone in his bed. Briefly, he thinks about going to the other dorm and crawling into Hyukjae’s bed instead, but as soon as that thought crosses his mind his head throbs so hard it spins.

Tossing the sheets off his body, Donghae takes a few more deep breaths and swings his feet onto the floor. Since when is it so cold in this dorm? He shivers. The other dorm must be warmer. Hyukjae’s dorm.

The nausea that follows that thought is what propels him off the bed - he needs to get to the bathroom. He’s dizzy, head swimming with pain, has to follow the wall back to the door.

Someone left the light on in the hallway. Donghae slams his eyes closed and waits for the next wave of nausea to subside before he dares to crack them open. Squinting against the light, he moves a shaky arm out to touch the wall and makes the first slow, agonizing step towards the bathroom. He wipes quickly at his forehead with his free hand, noticing the sweat for the first time, even as his skin prickles with goosepimples.

Thankfully his eyes adjust to the light, and Donghae finds the bathroom door just as the last of his strength leaves him. He sinks to the floor, trying to remember what he was here for. Painkillers. Then back to bed. Hyukjae’s bed.

Instead of nausea, this time his head swims with tears. God, he misses Hyukjae. How long has it been since he saw him? Hyukjae, he thinks with a sob, throat choking up, why did you get in the other van? Why didn’t you ride together with me? His entire body aches like it’s coming straight from his bones, but Donghae scrambles to try and stand up again. He has to get to Hyukjae’s room, he has to, he misses him so much, that’s got to be what’s hurting so much. His chest constricts.

Finally he manages to get up, gripping the counter tightly. He gets the medicine chest open, still squinting against the searing light, struggling to find the correct bottle. Painkillers, then Hyukjae.

He drops the bottle, pills spilling across the countertop. No, that’s wrong. Forget the pills. Donghae turns, waits for the nausea and dizziness to subside, then claws at the door frame. His fingers won’t even grip the sides, just slide off, and he can’t make it very far into the hallway on his own legs. He folds down onto the floor with a sob, throat and ears closed up and head feeling ten sizes too small, and so the sound of the dorm’s front door slamming open just sounds like a deep echo.

And then Hyukjae is standing in the hallway, skin shiny with sweat and hair matted down, squinting in pain and breathing too hard and he’s the best thing Donghae has ever seen. He tries to stand but his limbs are still shaking, he only gets as far as his knees, but it’s okay because Hyukjae is stumbling towards him too. His legs must be nearly as useless as Donghae’s, because his normally precise and sure movements are gone and he trips to his knees as well and the two of them manage to meet in the middle, like magnets drawn charge to charge.

“I’m here,” is what Hyukjae mumbles weakly into his ear, hands up under the hem of Donghae’s shirt, and then he says it again, which is when Donghae realizes that he’s been repeating Hyukjae’s name over and over. “Donghae, I’m right here.”

“I missed you, god, where were you?” Donghae amends, arms mercifully steady as he follows suit, wrapping them around Hyukjae’s waist, underneath his shirt where the skin is bare.

‘It’s okay,“ Hyukjae says, and it’s muffled but only because his face is buried in the space between Donghae’s neck and collarbone; Donghae’s hearing has returned to normal. The dorm is still sleepy around him, his world narrowed down to Hyukjae’s still shaking body. The nausea is gone and Donghae inhales deeply, Hyukjae’s scent like a wave of relief even as sweaty as it is. He knows he must feel the same, skin still clammy, but he finds himself pushing the hem of Hyukjae’s shirt even higher, finds their legs tangling, searching for more skin.

"What - what is this?” Donghae asks, the pain in his head dulled to a manageable level; even Hyukjae has finally stopped shaking, and Donghae never wants to move from this spot, a knotted mess of limbs in the middle of the floor in the bathroom hallway of his dorm.

There are more footsteps, coming to a halt five feet away, and after a long pause, Heechul’s voice: “Oh, .”

-

“They don’t need a hospital tonight,” Junghoon says for the third time, arms folded across his chest.

“But they will eventually. They will, even if I have to drag them there myself, this is too dangerous to ignore.” Jungsu’s tone brooks no argument.

“We’re all in agreement on that, Jungsu, but let’s take this one step at a time,” says Hangeng, gentle as ever.

They’re all awake now, managers included, crowded into the dorm’s sitting room. Heechul had wasted no time in waking Jungsu, and their voices had been muffled and urgent from where Donghae and Hyukjae still sat huddled together in the hallway. They had reluctantly drawn apart when it became clear that an emergency group meeting was going to happen right now, middle of the night or not, but the feeling of separation was like poking a bruise - if the bruise covered your whole body, and the pain of it was severe enough to make you nauseous and dizzy all over again.

So they’re sitting now on the couch in near silence, arms pressed together, Donghae’s hand resting palm up on the cushion so that Hyukjae can rest his own on top. It’s not ideal, and Donghae’s headache is starting to creep down his neck. Hyukjae shivers every so often like he’s burning with fever.

“If nobody else is going to ask, then I will,” says Youngwoon, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “What does this mean for us?”

For us, Donghae thinks gratefully. Not for them.

“I’m guessing that depends on the company,” Sungmin says. “They have the final decision, don’t they?”

“They’re staying in the group,” Heechul says darkly.

Junghoon unfolds his arms. “Nobody in this company is going to kick them out of the group. They can’t discriminate against anyone just for having the bond.”

Beside Donghae, Hyukjae tenses up. It’s the first time anyone has said the word aloud while they were in earshot, but it’s not like anybody would have to tell them. Donghae squeezes his fingers gently, and Hyukjae relaxes.

“There are any number of reasons that Hyukjae and Donghae could be targeted by the company, being touch bound doesn’t have to even be mentioned,” Kyuhyun pipes up. Donghae turns his head to try and read his expression, but Kyuhyun is wearing that impassive look that always frustrates him. It’s too hard for Donghae to read.

“If the public knows, then SM couldn’t get away with it. Everyone would see right through any excuses and they’d still end up with a reputation of kicking out bonded pairs,” Youngwoon says, seemingly directly to Jungsu. Hyukjae’s fingers twitch, and when Donghae looks over it seems like he’s hardly even breathing.

“That’s assuming they even want to go public with this,” Sungmin says, “And how about we stop talking about them like they’re not sitting right here?”

“It’s alright, Sungmin hyung,” Donghae says, grateful because Hyukjae relaxes again. All eyes turn to him, of course, because they’ve been silent until now. “It’s kind of hard to focus anyway.”

The grade of headache is spiking back up into migraine territory, and Hyukjae’s hand in his is still kind of clammy, so he probably isn’t much better. Donghae tries to remember what he knows about touch bonds, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t know what is truth and what is just exaggerated for dramas and films. The basics are there, though: if he’s near Hyukjae and in physical contact, he shouldn’t be sick anymore. He feels miles better than he did earlier, but still, Donghae can’t help but panic a little when he realizes that he’s getting worse the longer they sit here side by side. Did they… is something wrong? Maybe it’s not the bond after all, maybe….? He doesn’t know. He’s just so tired.

“Hey, how are you two doing? I can take care of things for tomorrow if you need some privacy,” comes a voice from much closer than Donghae expected. He opens his eyes to see Junghoon kneeling in front of them on the couch, open concern on his face.

“Privacy?” Hyukjae asks.

Junghoon nods, opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it again. “How much do you know about touch bonds?” he settles on asking. Donghae stares at him in some confusion before a fragment of a memory comes to him: Junghoon’s sister. He remembers it now; his sister and her husband are bonded.

“Um. I’ve seen Touch of Fate?”

Heechul laughs, then shuts himself up immediately, but Donghae can still see his grin. Okay, so maybe a cheesy romance film isn’t his best source of information. But everyone knows what the touch bond entails: the need to be in physical contact with your bondmate for a certain amount of time each day, otherwise touch starvation symptoms will become dangerous to the point of death. Donghae readjusts his grip on Hyukjae’s hand.

“Okay, well, that’s a start,” Junghoon concedes. Remember when the characters in the movie first touched? You know that scene?“

Donghae feels his face flush. He chances a glance at Hyukjae, who looks like the nausea might be getting to be too much for him.

", Junghoon, not that!” Youngwoon says, badly covering up laughter. Kyuhyun, on the other hand, is doubled over in silent laughter on the other side of the room. Donghae bites the insides of his cheeks.

“Hey, quit it, I’m serious.” Junghoon scowls at them. “You two need as much physical contact as possible to get you through the initial bonding period. Minus the, um, romance. If you want.”

Hyukjae stands abruptly, which forces Donghae to stand as well, hands still linked. “Then we can sleep it off together, I’m exhausted. Is my room okay?”

Donghae is not about to say no. Junghoon follows them out to the elevator and the silent ride seems to last forever, even though it’s only one floor. They trek back into Hyukjae’s room still in silence, Junghoon flipping light switches off as he goes.

“Like I said, I’ll take care of everything for tomorrow. I’ll clear your schedules. Jungsu and I will inform the company, you don’t need to be worrying about that on top of everything else. Nobody who doesn’t absolutely need to know will know, okay?”

“What about the hospital?” That conversation seems to have taken place a week ago, much less ten minutes ago, but Donghae remembers that a trip to determine their bond parameters and to register them will need to happen within the first couple of days. It’s getting harder to focus on what Junghoon is saying - harder to keep standing, actually, because the bone-deep ache is starting to make itself known again. Hyukjae is right there, right there, but Donghae still feels like he misses him. They might as well be on other sides of the country, as far as his body knows.

“That will be sometime tomorrow. You’ll need tonight to recharge, but by the morning you should be able to relocate without much trouble. How is it now?”

“Bad,” Hyukjae says tightly. Donghae would nod his agreement, but he’s afraid of the wave of nausea that would follow.

“, I’m sorry. This should have been the first priority. You’ll need to be touching the most surface area possible, okay? No clothes. I’m pretty sure sleeping under sheets is fine as long as it doesn’t get in the way of skin contact.” He hesitates, gaze focused on Hyukjae, and when Donghae looks, he notices that Hyukjae’s eyes are puffy and red with the obvious effort or not crying. A different sort of pain lances across his chest.

“You’ll be okay,” Junghoon finishes. “By morning the worst will be over. Trust me.”

“Thank you, hyung,” Donghae says earnestly, and after a hard swallow and shaky intake of breath, Hyukjae thanks him as well. Follows it up with a deep bow, one that Donghae is compelled to follow by their still-linked hands, and it reminds him sharply of the moment they had taken their final bows as a group on stage last night. Was it really only last night? He remembers the surge of adrenaline that had followed and wonders if that had been it. The moment. The one normally followed by fireworks or violins or something else cheesy in dramas.

Junghoon bows lightly in return before leaving them alone in Hyukjae’s dimly lit room. Donghae turns to him, wanting to ask if he thinks that bow was the moment their bond had formed as well, but the words die in his throat. Hyukjae is looking at him with what Donghae can only describe as fear.

“Donghae,” he says thickly, “what are we going to do?”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. Donghae gets the feeling that he’s missing something, but he’s so beyond exhausted that the only thing on his mind are their immediate needs. And their immediate needs are to get rid of those first touch starvation symptoms. He can process all of this later, and so can Hyukjae.

“We’re going to get some sleep,” he says.

Hyukjae looks at him with unshed tears in his eyes and slowly, slowly nods.

It’s not as awkward as it sounds to get rid of their clothes. It’s not like they haven’t seen each other before, actually have too many times to count in between showers after practice and quick clothes changes backstage and the general freedom of sharing a male-only dorm. What makes it difficult is that it hurts to stop touching each other for even a moment. As soon as their skin touches again after that loss, though - it’s almost worth it. Almost.

The urgent need to touch takes most of the awkwardness out of the idea of lying so close without any clothes between them. Donghae is comfortable around Hyukjae regardless, but it’s different when arms around shoulders wants to turn into chest pressed flush against chest; when a casual hug isn’t enough, when Donghae thinks it might not even be enough if he were to climb inside Hyukjae’s skin. He holds that thought at bay.

It doesn’t even matter that Hyukjae’s bed is only a twin, they end up with legs slotted together and arms around each other anyway. The ache in his bones recedes, Hyukjae’s skin begins to warm up until their temperatures match. He still hides his face in Donghae’s neck, but the pace of his breathing evens out and the red flush to his face disappears. Is it the absence of pain that makes Donghae feel so good, or is it the touch of his skin on his bondmate’s skin? Is there a difference?

By morning the worst will be over. Donghae has no idea what is good and what is bad anymore. Maybe he’ll wake up and the whole thing will be a dream.

“Night, Hae,” Hyukjae says drowsily, fingers pressing unconsciously into his mid-back to pull him ever closer.

“Night, Hyukkie.” He breathes in. He really hopes it’s not a dream.