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Hyunjin just wanted to get some sleep.
He doesn’t know what time it is. It’s better to stop checking the time after the sun goes down. Even though he considers himself a hard-working rookie idol, there’s still some part of him that balks at working past the early hours of the morning.
It’s more trouble than it’s worth to accidentally check a glimpse of the time and have to spend ten minutes working himself back into the mental state he needs for practicing. So he leaves his phone in his pocket and doesn’t look up at the clock on the wall even when he finally pushes to his feet and says “I’m gonna’ rest for a bit, hyung,” he has no idea how late into the night he’s worked.
“Okay,” Chan says without looking up from his desk. He has his computer and keyboard spread out around him, a handful done and more unfinished work. Hyunjin’s not sure how songs are finished for the new album and how many of them aren’t, but he doesn’t bother asking. If Chan wants to pull his second all-nighter in a row, there’s no point trying to fight with him. “Sleep well, Hyunjinie.”
“Yeah,” Hyunjin agrees and walks away from the dark office with his jaw already stretching on a yawn. As soon as he surrendered to the idea of sleep, his whole body began to put up a cry for it. But it’s fine now. He’s done practicing his rap for the night, and all he has to do now is stumble into his bedroom, maybe pull the door shut behind him, and then he can fall onto his bed fully-clothed and sleep for a few hours before he stirs enough to strip down to a more comfortable state and pass out again.
But when he opens the door, there’s someone in his bed.
It’s not a stranger. He shares the room with two other people. But the intruder is too short to be Seungmin, and the hair is too dark to possibly be Han. It’s not that Hyunjin doesn’t know who is it tangled into his sheets, sound asleep with his head on Hyunjin’s pillow. He even knows Seungmin and Han are already in their respective beds, sound asleep hours ago. It’s just that he can’t figure out why Changbin is in his bed instead of his own when they switched dorms. He no longer has the excuse of his bed is close to the bathroom.
Hyunjin stands in the doorway for a long moment, just staring into the dim-lit haze of the room. Changbin doesn’t stir, even with the glow of the illumination and the weight of Hyunjin watching him. But that’s no surprise, really, Hyunjin knows from personal experience how impossible it is to wake up after collapsing into exhausted sleep. It would be easy to simply go rest in Changbin’s bed. Hyunjin knows Changbin and Chan wouldn’t mind, but that doesn’t answer the question of why Hyunjin takes his at all. Besides, Changbin is hugging his plush toy, which means he specifically brought it with him to sleep in Hyunjin’s bed.
He doesn’t know what to do. He should sleep in Changbin’s bed or the couch, and whenever Changbin stirs himself back into consciousness, Changbin can explain about his plush from home. There’s no point in trying to wake Changbin now, not when Hyunjin knows he’ll be completely incoherent and as likely to roll over and go back to sleep as listen.
But he can’t explain why it is that he’s kneeling on the floor next to the bed, why he’s reaching out to close a gentle hold against Changbin’s shoulder and shake him into something halfway approximating consciousness.
“Hey,” He says softly so it won’t startle Changbin or wake the others up. “Hyung.” Changbin doesn’t stir. Hyunjin shakes a little harder until the force of the motion is enough to knock a lock of the other’s hair loose from behind his ear so it falls across his face. “Changbin-hyung, wake up. You’re in my bed.”
There’s still no response. Hyunjin could guess Changbin was feigning out of laziness. He’s never known him to sleep so deeply they can remain unconscious through light, voice, and motion. But Changbin has done this before, and when Changbin pushes the other off his side and onto his back, his lashes don’t so much as flutter. He just rolls over under the blanket, head tipping to the side as he sighs in his sleep. His arm is angled across his body, his whole position slumped into absolute rest, and Hyunjin goes still, locked to motionlessness by the part of Changbin’s lips on the steady rush of his breathing and his calm expression
His features look softer without the tension of consciousness under them, the lines of his face more delicate than Hyunjin has ever noticed before. There something strangely endearing about the soft hair across his forehead, like the uneven strands are asking for Hyunjin’s touch to smooth them back into place. Changbin’s forehead creases, his breathing catching on startled warmth, and his lashes shift when he opens his open eyes to blink up at Hyunjin leaning over him with a hand on his shoulder.
He doesn’t look at all surprised. Hyunjin has a brief moment to wonder if the sleep before was all an act after all, for how calm Changbin looks at seeing him. But then he says “Hyunjin-ah,” and his voice is too slow and hazy to be anything but completely sincere. “Are you coming to sleep too?”
“Uh,” Hyunjin whispers. “Yeah, hyung, I was going to.”
Hyunjin yawns, eyes closing with the force of the reaction. “Welcome,” Changbin replies, the word dragging heavy on sleep as he shifts against the bed without opening his eyes or apparently noticing Hyunjin’s touch at his shoulder.
Changbin reaches out with one hand to pat against the futon next to him. “Come to bed.”
Hyunjin blinks. “You’re,” He pauses, clears his throat and tries for a gentler tone. “Changbin-hyung, you’re in my bed.”
“Yeah,” Changbin replies and opens one eye to look up at the younger. His mouth is soft on sleep, dragging at the corners into something almost a frown, and his shoulders are still relaxed under Hyunjin’s hold. “I was waiting for you.”
As Hyunjin stares at the elder, Changbin shuts his eye again and retreats into another expansive yawn. When he shifts his arm, it’s to pull it in closer against his chest like he’s settling himself into comfort. “Hurry up, Hyunjin. I’m tired.” This seems fairly unequivocal.
Even with his thoughts slowed on exhaustion, Hyunjin can piece together the basic structure of what’s going on: Changbin in his futon, apparently deliberately, with enough direct invitation in his words and actions to leave no doubt as to his intention. He might be asleep still, could be talking from the space of a dream, but he called Changbin by name. His gaze was clear and calm even with the sleep-haze that is still clinging to his expression. But Changbin is acting as if this is normal as if sleeping tangled together in the warmth of Hyunjin’s sheets is completely typical and passable, and Hyunjin might be tired but he’s sure he would remember Changbin wanting to cuddle.
“Changbin-hyung,”Hyunjin whispers, and then again when Changbin frowns like he’s thinking about ignoring Hyunjin’s voice, “Changbin-hyung,” punctuating with a shake. Changbin opens one eye again, and Hyunjin takes the opportunity to frown at him. “Look at me.”
“I am looking at you,” Hyunjin informs him in an annoyed tone this time, but he turns his head anyway, blinking himself into obedient attention up at Hyunjin’s face. His hair is tangling across his forehead and caught into waves by the weight of his head pinning it to Hyunjin’s pillow. His mouth is still soft on the lingering weight of unconsciousness. Hyunjin can feel his heartache in his chest like it’s being squeezed by some impossible pressure.
“What--” Hyunjin starts and then stops because it’s always easier to get an answer from Changbin if he phrases his questions as directly as possible. “Do you want to sleep in my bed?”
“Yes,” Changbin says sounding as patient as if this answer is stunningly obvious. Hyunjin supposes it is under the circumstances. “That’s why I’m here.”
Hyunjin frowns harder. “With me?”
“Yes, come on,” Changbin blinks, the motion slow and heavy with sleep before reaching up for Hyunjin’s shirt. His hold is steady, unwavering even when he tugs against the other’s shirt in unmistakable demand. “Come to bed with hyungie.”
Hyunjin cracks a smile at Changbin. Changbin’s gaze is hazy, mouth soft on the weight of his sleep and arms heavy with exhaustion, but there’s no hesitation in his eyes, no tension of uncertainty at his lips. He looks sleepy and warm, so sure of himself that the confidence he usually displays is so obvious.
The world shifts, gravity dips out and away and lets himself be pulled in and dragged down to the tangle of blankets by a hold that would be so easy to shake off. Despite Changbin’s technically older by a year, the other has always been so much smaller and weaker than him, physically anyway. Hyunjin’s shoulder lands at the bed, head weights at the pillow, and Changbin slides in against him without loosening his hold at Hyunjin’s shirt. He presses the warmth of his body against Hyunjin’s taller one and sighs the weight of relief against his chest.
“You really want to cuddle, huh?” He whispers suddenly without thinking, and his spine tenses, breathing hitches on sudden, agonizing self-awareness. But Changbin is humming in agreement, giving way to the slack heaviness of sleep as immediately as if he only stirred for the sole purpose of pulling Hyunjin down with him.
The blanket isn’t even over them. It’s barely caught around Changbin’s bare feet, and even when Hyunjin reaches out to catch at the edge and pull it over, Changbin doesn’t stir. There’s not so much as a hiccup in the steady rhythm of his breathing. Hyunjin lets the blanket fall around Changbin’s waist, fits it around the dip of his own shoulders, and then he takes a breath to steady himself. He reaches out to let his arm fall very gently around the slope of Changbin’s waist in front of him.
Changbin doesn’t move, and Hyunjin is fairly sure the other is wholly absorbed by the weight of sleep now. Nut Hyunjin’s exhaustion is evaporating with every breath he takes, attention clinging with helpless focus to the small size of Changbin’s waist, to the damp heat of his breathing slipping against the inside line of his pillow. When he lifts his hand, Hyunjin can touch the sliver of skin peeking out from his dark shirt, can fit his fingertips to the soft texture.
It’s softer than he expected, and when he lifts his hand to slide up Changbin’s back to touch his hair, that’s soft too. He slides his fingers against Changbin’s hair, presses his touch in gently against the elder’s scalp, and Changbin makes a tiny noise against his shirt and nuzzles in closer against him until his nose is almost touching Hyunjin’s collarbone.
Changbin is sound asleep. Hyunjin doesn’t know for how long. Past experience says it’ll be hours at least before the other stirs. He wonders if the tension of Changbin’s fingers closed on Hyunjin’s shirt might be a tether to hold him here far longer than even his exhausted body wants to stay. But Hyunjin is fitting the strands of Changbin’s hair against the drag of his fingers, and Hyunjin’s heart is pounding to breathless speed in his chest. He doesn’t make any attempt to slide back or pull away.
“Baby Changbin,” He whispers with a wide smile, tilting his head down with his eyes closed to press his lips against the soft of Changbin’s head. He can feel the silky smooth hairs against his lips, and he lets out a deep breath as he pulls away, has to stop himself from getting too carried away, before he settles into the bed, reminding himself that this is only for a few hours before they have to get up again and practice for the next music show.
But right now, Hyunjin thinks he’d be happy to stay like this for days.