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Minho’s shoes hit the floor with a muted thump, but he still winces at the sound. Everything seems too loud in the silence of the dorm, and even the faint street lights through the curtains are too bright for Minho’s tired eyes.
His whole body aches, and he’s almost positive he’s pulled some kind of muscle in both his shoulder and calf. Pretty much everywhere hurts, but that’s what he gets for staying late to practice by himself. His head still buzzing with the constant replay of that same damn song he just couldn’t make absolutely perfect.
Chan told him he should come home, rest, maybe put some food in him. Their comeback is just around the corner though, and Minho knows he’s almost perfect in every dance move, but there’s always that little voice in the back of his head saying ‘ but what if you were better’.
Needless to say, Minho is almost dead on his feet and already falling asleep as he fumbles through the darkness of the dorm. Everyone else has to have been asleep for hours by now, so Minho tries to make as little noise as possible when he picks his way over a laundry basket and pile of clothes Jeongin was probably supposed to clean up but never did.
“Fu—” Minho slaps a hand over his mouth when he catches the corner of the couch with his thigh, pain spreading through his leg and inching up his hip.
No way is that not going to bruise.
Morning Minho can deal with that though, or at least Minho a few hours in the future, because now it’s almost three and Minho is so fucking tired he can’t think straight besides the need to lay down and give up on life. He just closes his eyes and leans against the wall as he shuffles towards his room.
By now getting there is all muscle memory, and Minho’s jaw pops silently when he lets out a huge yawn, but that’s just another muscle to ice when he wakes up.
Minho doesn’t bother turning on the lights, he’d just end up waking the rest of the room, and he doesn’t feel like being the reason for that mess in the morning. He can be responsible for his own bad decisions, he’ll just pay the price with a tall black coffee in the morning to give him an extra boost so he doesn’t feel like a zombie.
His clothes fall to the floor in a pile after he struggles to pull his shirt off, and almost falls when his pants catch around his ankles, and Minho kicks them out of the way so he can change into a clean pair of pajama shorts. Usually he wouldn’t bother, but it’s been damn cold lately, and if he’s gonna risk sleeping in he doesn’t want to scar any of the kids… again.
The bed seems a bit more crowded than usual when Minho climbs into it, but really he’s too tired to care. He wishes it wasn’t so late so he could shower, but Minho would probably just end up drowning when he inevitably passed out from exhaustion. He’s been half asleep since he left the practice room, and as soon as his head hits the pillow he’s out like a light.
He won’t remember until he wakes up that this bed isn’t his anymore.
When Jisung wakes up, he notices the familiar smell of stale sweat (gross), but it’s nothing compared to the familiar scent that clings to his blanket and mattress. Something that’s not sweet per se, but admittedly pleasant, and assuages the minor panic that came with waking up from the odd dream he had been having. So much so that Jisung doesn’t notice the beacon of heat that is attached to him for a moment, he just leans back into the warmth and curls in on himself, trying to make his body smaller so he can fit closer.
His bed isn’t cold, but there are a few chilled spots where a breeze makes its way into the room. So Jisung is quick to take any warmth he can manage to find.
Sleep overtakes him again, but it can’t be for more than fifteen minutes before he hears people walking around outside of his room, and hushed voices that sound stressed, almost scared.
Woojin and Chan’s voice are faint through the door, but Jisung only has to focus a little to hear what they’re saying.
“Are we sure he came home?”
“Felix says his shoes are in the front hall.”
“Jeongin never heard him come into their room last night though.”
“I’m telling you, he’s gotta be somewhere around here. Minho wouldn’t just not come home, not without telling us.”
Jisung’s eyes snap open at that, though he wouldn’t say he’s completely awake yet.
Minho didn’t come home last night?
That can’t be right. Minho said he was going to stay late to practice a little longer, but he wouldn’t spend the night at the company building. Not without telling someone, and Chan sounds worried, which meant there was no message from Minho. So he had to be home, but where—
Jisung goes to sit up, body tense with the idea of Minho having gone missing, but he finds that he can’t exactly move.
“Huh-?” He’s suddenly reminded of the heat behind him, and for a moment Jisung wonders if Seungmin tried to play another prank on him by putting the heater on him, because it’s fucking hot, but that could just be because the rest of the room is cold enough for Jisung to shiver.
Looking over his shoulder gives him the answer to all of his questions though.
Latched onto Jisung’s back, is Lee Minho himself, fast asleep and clinging to the younger boy like a koala. Both his legs and arms are locked around Jisung's body, preventing him from moving or escaping the bed. Though Jisung isn’t sure he wants to leave now, not when he knows Minho is home and safe and Minho is really warm compared to the rest of the room. Comfy.
It also explains why it smells so much like Minho in the bed now though.
Sure, the area had traces of Minho when Jisung moved in, because Minho spent so much time here, and the curtain hanging on the bed definitely trapped the smell in. Objectively it’s kind of gross, and a little weird, but Jisung loves the way Minho smells. Even when he’s sweaty because he’s been dancing all day—Okay, maybe a little less then. But when Minho gets out of the shower and smells like that floral shampoo he always uses, Jisung just can’t help but want to be close to Minho, because something about the smell makes Jisung feel a little sleepy and like he’s at home. It’s familiar.
It’s just Minho though, because even when Hyunjin once used the same shampoo Jisung could only scrunch his nose in disgust because Hyunjin smelled too sweet, too much like a berry. For some reason with Minho it was just right.
So yeah, maybe Jisung had ulterior motives for wanting this bed in particular, he’ll admit it though.
“Minho,” Jisung says in a soft voice, trying not to coo when he sees Minho face, puffy from sleep and his eyelids twitching as he dreams. “Hey, dummy. You’re in my bed.”
“Mmph, my bed…” Minho mutters, and shifts so his face is buried in the crook of Jisung’s shoulder, running his hand over Jisung’s stomach and digging his fingers in to the point where Jisung squeals a little, because he’s definitely ticklish there. “Shadup. Pillows don’ talk.”
Jisung has to fight the urge to laugh at Minho's sleep slurred words, and takes a moment to wiggle in Minho’s grip just enough that he can roll over so he’s facing Minho. It takes effort, because Minho is like a stone wall with his arms wrapped around Jisung, and as soon as Jisung stops moving Minho latches onto him again. There’s a subtle pout on his lips, and Jisung giggles a little because Minho is adorable when he’s tired.
“Minho,” Jisung says in a lilting tone, making sure to keep it down as he moves a strand of hair out of Minho’s face. “Hey, pretty Minho.”
Minho’s hair is sticking up in all directions, and he’s completely barefaced, but Jisung thinks he’s beautiful with the way the sun filters through the curtains and highlights the golden skin on Minho’s shoulders and cheekbones, no makeup to dull the shine. And maybe Jisung is flushed because he’s realized that Minho isn’t wearing a shirt, and he has Jisung squished into his embrace, but Minho is warm and his arms are a solid yet gentle force around Jisung.
Jisung runs his fingers through Minho’s hair, smiling when Minho tucks his head into Jisung’s sweater and uses his chest as a pillow.
“Shut up,” Minho says, his words more coherent now, and his hand flails as he tries to cover Jisung’s mouth but he’s still sleepy, so he just manages to find Jisung’s cheek before giving up and leaving his hand there. “‘M sleepy.”
“I can see that, sleepy enough to get into the wrong bed.” Jisung can’t hide his giggles now, and he knows there’s a fond smile on his face, because there always is when it comes to Minho. Especially when Minho opens up his eyes, squinting from the light, and because his face is kind of puffy, but it just makes Jisung want to squish his cheeks. He wonders if this is what people think of him when they see his cheeks.
“Wha..?” Minho looks around, confused, before he seems to realize what Jisung means. Then he just looks vaguely put off.
“You shouldn’t stay out so late, how did you even get home?” Jisungs voice takes on a worried edge, because he doesn’t want to think about something happening to Minho when he’s on his way home late at night exhausted. There are just too many possibilities.
“Walked,” Minho says around a yawn, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Why, are you worried about me Sungie?”
They both know that Minho is joking around, but that doesn’t stop Jisung from frowning.
“Everyone was really worried when they couldn’t find you this morning, what if-”
“Sungie,” Minho cuts him off before he can start to rant too much, reaching up and placing his hand on Jisung’s cheek, gently leading him to lay down again. Jisung hadn’t even realized he sat up in his distress. “I promise I won’t stay at the company so late anymore, at least not alone. Okay? Now please, let’s sleep for a little longer, okay?”
“Fine… One sec though.”
Jisung climbs out of bed and snatches up his phone, sending a quick text to Chan telling him Minho accidentally fell asleep in his bed last night, and that they shouldn’t worry.
Minho is waiting with open arms when Jisung gets back, and Jisung supposes that as long as Minho is safe and sound holding him that he’ll let Minho staying out late slide for this time. He’s definitely not swayed by Minho pressing small kisses to the back of his neck as they snuggle, and Jisung is pretty sure he rolls over so Minho can act as his personal heater, and not because he wants to squish Minho’s cheeks. And Jisung certainly doesn't kiss the boy every time he’s about to fall asleep just to watch Minho sleepily chase after his lips and whine when he can’t catch them. Because tired Minho is adorable, and doesn’t bother with acting suave and cool.
Eventually Jisung allows Minho to fall asleep again, knowing that he’s probably still exhausted and sore from practice last night, but he continues to run his fingers through Minho’s hair because well, he wants to, and because Minho smells like home curled up into Jisung’s side, drooling.
“What am I going to do with you,” Jisung sighs, wondering how on earth Minho got to be the older one between them.
Oh well. Jisung presses a chaste kiss to Minho’s forehead and settles back into bed, lips twitching up into a smile when Minho latches onto him again.
This is home.
It's warm here.
Maybe because you're here.