#because chan has bewitched me and caused me to write self insert for the first time ever

[echo-rambles]

love don't know how to rest

words: 2,679 summary: a quick phone call with your boyfriend chan turns into a mini vent session. tags: swearing, established relationship, long distance relationship, minor argument, fluff, making up note: this started off as me clowning on chan's new hair because as much as I love him I was not a fan of it when I initially saw it. somehow it turned into a weird little vent thing about missing someone and wishing they'd take better care of themselves. (title from how to rest by the crane wives)

-o0o-

“Hey baby.” You immediately greet, answering your phone and then propping it up so your hands are free. 

Chan's face takes up the majority of the screen, and you get a close up of his forehead before he also seems to settle his phone somewhere. He hums in acknowledgment. 

You know for a fact he’s not trying to be rude, so you don’t worry too much about his non-greeting. Quickly looking at the time and doing the math, you speak up again. “Good morning. Have you just woken up?” It would be about 8am in Korea right now. 

“Hi- sorry I meant to say hi when you did.” It’s ok, you mumble, moving about the kitchen as you continue to make yourself dinner. Chan had messaged you only a few minutes ago, asking if you were busy and if he could call through. It wasn’t a very complicated dinner, mostly just heating up leftovers on the stove, so of course you told him to call. “I’ve been up since… six? Five maybe.” 

“Chan.” You chastise gently. Sending him a little look from your spot at the stove. He ducks his head, already giving you one of his smiles that spell an apology. 

“I know. I just- my brain hasn’t been able to shut off. I’m making the most of it until I end up crashing in the middle of the day.” 

“Light schedule?” You ask, already assuming the answer since otherwise he wouldn’t be able to so readily nap mid day. Chan makes a little agreeable noise. “That's good. And hey, if you don’t sleep at some point I can always ask Seungmin to smother you until you pass out. Forced nap time.” 

“That’s so fucked up.” But it gets him to chuckle, and that’s really what matters. “He’d do it too.” 

“Of course he would; I asked. Hey, nice hat by the way.” You lean close to your phone, squinting at the beanie he’s wearing. 

It makes Chan groan and push the beanie over his eyes for a brief second. “I'm trying to hide my hair, since someone hates it.” 

“I never said I hate it!”

“…you said it reminded you of straw.” 

Ok, so maybe you absolutely said something like that when you first saw his hair. It sort of just tumbled out of your mouth. “Because they bleached it all wrong! They killed your hair, Christopher. I was shocked, and distraught.” 

Chan shifts his beanie around, laying his hand flat on his head but never once taking it off. “I thought it would’ve come out better. I’ve been wanting to dye it-”

“I know, baby.” The teasing slips away from your tone, replaced by something more gentle and understanding. “But you gotta let your hair heal first before you fuck with it. Maybe let it grow out and dye it dark the next time you can? And then, once it’s no longer damaged as hell, you can do something fun. Like pink?”

Chan’s nodding along to your words, clearly watching you shut off the stove and shove all of your food into a bowl. He smiles at your suggestion. “One day you’ll get your pink hair dreams.” 

“We can match! It'd be so much fun. I think the world needs Pink Chan more than ever, really.” 

He hums instead of playing into the banter, hand still on his head, and you know that no matter how much you apologize for your initial reaction or how many jokes you make, the thought that he did something you don’t like is going to eat him up. Sighing, you bring the phone close to your face. 

“I think you look gorgeous no matter what, you know that right? I’ll tell you every single day until you believe me. Even with straw hair.” You lower your voice, trying to sound as solemn and as serious as you can. “Even if you were bald.”

“Bald?” His face goes all scrunched as he laughs, tipping his head out of frame and pressing a hand over his eyes. 

“Yeah. Shave it all off. Start from scratch.” You bring the phone and your bowl over to the couch, settling in. “I’m sure there’d be girls who would go crazy for the shaved look.”

“Should I be worried that you’re making sure I look good for other girls?” 

“Hey, listen, this is your job, and part of my job as the world's greatest girlfriend is to make sure you’re marketable to your audience.”

He’s still smiling, all big and soft and it loosens the knot of guilt in your chest. 

After a few minutes of the both of you falling silent, you eating and Chan just watching you, you finally speak up again. “I’m sorry for saying that stuff about your hair. I didn’t mean to sound so… mean.” 

“I know. I appreciate the apology though.”

“I just worry. Which is a shit excuse but- I don’t want them ruining your hair. I need you to take care of yourself, because I’m not there to do it!” 

“I know-”

“You take care of the boys and I take care of you because you refuse to let them do it; that’s always been the deal, but I’m not there so now no one is taking care of you-” 

“Love,” he cuts you off. Voice firm and commanding. “It’s just hair.” It’s your turn to mumble out an I know. “It’ll grow back. It can be fixed. I’m ok.” 

“I just wish I was there.” 

The silence creeps in again, and your food is growing cold. Every day you miss him, and the feeling just continues to grow and grow and you’re so afraid that it’ll get so big that soon you won’t have room for anything else. You need him to be ok, because if he’s not then… you’re not really sure what you’d do. 

“We take care of each other, yeah?” Chan says, making you snap your attention back to your screen. He must have pulled his phone closer to his face, and if this were any other moment you’d take the opportunity to snap a picture of the angle he chose, but since you feel all cold and serious in the pit of your stomach you instead just nod at his words. 

“Yeah-” 

“I don’t want you to ever feel like this is a one way street. It’s not your job to take care of me.” 

“I definitely don’t get paid enough for it to be a job.” The pit isn’t too cold or serious for you to deny yourself mumbling out a little quip. 

“We choose to look out for each other, yeah? I take care of you too. Don’t forget that.” Your little comment makes him smile. Just a tick of his mouth, but his whole face softens and you wish you could touch him right now. 

You want to be in his arms. Face pressed to his neck, where you can feel his pulse against the highest point of your cheek and his hands spread across your back and anchoring you. Long distance sucks ass. 

“I won’t. But sometimes-” You stop yourself, chew at your bottom lip and aggressively spear your food with your fork. “I worry that you’re so busy taking care of everyone else that sometimes you forget about yourself.”

“I’m guessing this has gone way beyond your feelings about my hair.” Chan tries to joke, but there’s still that underlying tone of his. The special one that only he can really get. It works it’s way under your skin. 

For a brief moment you think about leaving it there. Changing the subject. This was meant to be a relaxing phone call during a moment Chan had to breathe. He has a break and he chose to call you and all of a sudden you're just sort of dumping out all of these thoughts onto him over room temperature leftovers. 

But then you remind yourself that this is Chan. He’ll know if you’re trying to bottle something away. He always does. You joke that you know him, that he’s like an open book to you. This isn’t a one way street. He knows you just as well. 

Fuck it. Rip the band-aid off. 

“You look stressed. Overworked. Like you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Oh wow, ok. Straight to the point.” 

“The only reason I know you’ve been eating is because Lino and Bin would probably force feed you before you ever went hungry. You just look exhausted and I know this is your job- I know you signed up for this. But it still breaks my heart sometimes when I can see you starting to strain under the pressure.” 

“I’m- I’m doing fine. It’s hard, yeah, but-”

“It’s worth it.” You finish his sentence, already knowing what he’s going to say because he always says the same thing. “I know. Why do you think it kills me that I can’t fucking be there? Because you work yourself to the bone and there’s no one around that’s willing to pull you away and force you to actually take care of yourself. The boys- I know they try, but they still see you as their leader. As their big brother. The things I do, the way I argue with you? No way they’d be willing to go that far. And I’m not trying to paint myself as this ultra special person but- jesus Chris, you can’t tell me that if, I don’t know; Felix tried to speak to you the way I do, you wouldn’t get upset.” 

Chan doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are big and liquid and he’s listening to every single word out of your mouth. When you say his name, directly ask him a question, he’s blinking. Thinking about it. “No, you’re right.” 

Finally, you place your bowl on the coffee table, feeling like you need to get up and move or else you’ll probably start crying or something equally as embarrassing. God, it’s like all of these pent up emotions have just decided to spill out. Things you didn’t even realize you were upset about until now.

“Your hair honestly means nothing in the grand scheme of things. It’s hair, like you said. But it was something for me to tease you about- something small that I was upset about that I could actually comment on, when really all I’ve wanted to do these last few weeks is scream at you to slow the fuck down. No- I know what you’re going to say and I’m not talking about the company schedules. That’s your job. I’m talking about all of the extra hours I know you’re pulling because nothing feels perfect enough. All of those hours where you’re meant to be relaxing but instead you just work more because you feel like if you stop you’ll stagnate.”

Leaning away from his phone, Chan takes a deep breath. Puffs out his cheeks for a moment before releasing it all and then dragging both hands over his face. The beanie gets dislodged, and you see a shock of pastel yelloworange. It’s not even that bad. It looks cute on him. But it felt like some weird shock to your system when he showed it to you and you could tell he was unhappy with it. 

“What do you want me to say? It seems like you’ve covered all of the bases.” 

“I want-” You huff in frustration. “I don’t want you to say what you think I want to hear, ok? Never. We don’t do that to each other. I just want-” Again, you cut yourself off, not actually sure what you want. Not sure what the entire fucking point of this little rant has been. 

You take your built up tension and you make good use of it. Bringing your bowl to the kitchen and beginning to clean up the dishes while you listen to the way Chan sighs into the silence. There really isn’t anything for him to say. 

You can hear the way he tries to start a sentence at least twice, and you know that he’s frustrated that he can’t fix whatever this is. But there’s nothing to fix because nothing’s broken. You’re just kind of at the end of your rope and you just want your boyfriend close. Shutting off the sink and picking up your phone, you try to give him something close to a reassuring smile.

“Listen, I think I figured out what I want.” He looks at you, jaw working and eyes shining and you want to take his face in your hands and kiss him stupid. But you can’t have that, not right now. So you’ll have to settle with second best. “We take care of each other, yeah, absolutely, but that means you have to take care of yourself when I’m not around to do it. Because I’m thousands of miles away. I know it’s a big ask but can you please do that… for me?” 

“Yeah… yeah, I can do that. I’m sorry I made you worry.” 

“Baby, I don’t need an apology. I just want you to be healthy.” You’re quiet for a beat, watching the way his eyes flick down and away from his phone before skipping back to you. “And also for your hair to look different.” 

“Wow.” It gets him to laugh. It feels like a small victory. 

“I’m nothing if not consistent. And hey, I’m sorry too. For just- whatever that was. It was unfair to unload it all when you’re probably minutes away from being busy again.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for. Like, I do get why you’re sorry but I’ll always choose to listen to your problems. Especially if they include me, that way we can figure out how to fix it.” His soft smile is back, crinkling his eyes and making your lungs weak. 

Humming, you finally finish putting all of the dishes away. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” 

“I love you the most.” 

“I’m pretty sure I loved you before I knew you.” Chan says, smile stretching wider as he tilts his head like an adorable fucking puppy. 

You smile back, and it feels like sugar fills your mouth. “Ooh, that’s a good one.” 

It’s the same little game you always play after any sort of tense conversation. Trying to one up the other and having to concede when they say something that legitimately makes you melt. It’s a reminder that things are hard but you get through it. 

Hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen counter, you sigh. It’s a little dramatic, infusing just enough theatrics to keep the levity of the conversation. “Sometimes it really sucks that we both believe in healthy communication. I wish we were the type of couple to ignore things until the feeling goes away but really it just festers until we can’t take it anymore.”

“I know, right. We’re just too good at being a couple. It’s kind of boring actually.”

“That’s what I’m saying! You should tell me to shut the fuck up more often and I’ll… I don’t know, accuse you of cheating?”

“With who?”

“Lino?”

“Wow. Shut the fuck up!” He manages to say, between his breathless laughter.

“Yeah! See, you’re getting the hang of it already.” 

Things might not be solved, like at all, but you feel a little lighter. You spend the next ten minutes joking with Chan, and things feel like they settle back to normal. You’ll probably have to have this conversation again, with less tension and frustration. But that’s for later. When he doesn’t look so tired and has a block of free time to actually talk about it in depth.

You’re going to see him, soon. You hold on to that knowledge as tightly as you can. You’ll be there, with him, able to touch him and kiss him and tell him that all you want is for him to be happy. Maybe you can have this conversation again, in person. Where you can hold hands and crawl into his lap. Soon.