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“Hyung. Hyung.”
Jeonghan peels one eye open in a squinting glare.
“Kim Mingyu,” he grinds out between clenched teeth, “I know you did not just wake me up when we only had four hours to sleep.” Manager-hyung made it clear when they were dropped off at the dorms that pick-up was promptly at 6 AM the next day, and honestly four hours was more time to sleep in one block than they’d had until now during the current comeback promotions.
Mingyu’s face above him is a bit contrite (as it should be, Jeonghan thinks), but he’s practically vibrating with pent-up energy. Jeonghan’s anger melts just a little at how Mingyu seems to be glowing in excitement.
“Hyung, I’m sorry but it really couldn’t wait,” Mingyu says as he shoves Jeonghan closer to the wall and climbs into bed with him. Jeonghan is no stranger to his members climbing into his bed for comfort or help falling asleep—his charmed lullabies can calm even the loudest minds—but Mingyu isn’t usually one of them, nor is he generally manhandled in the process.
Mingyu wriggles down under the covers and pulls the blanket over both of their heads. His mood is infectious, and despite his annoyance Jeonghan can feel the corners of his mouth start to twitch.
“I got it,” Mingyu says, hushed, bringing his forehead to touch Jeonghan’s.
“You got it?” A beat, and a small gasp of realization. “Oh, Mingoo, you got it?”
With adolescence comes magic—an ability, a power, something special. Jeonghan at eighteen had come into his charmspeak, the power lending a deep charisma to his words that draws people to him and makes them listen.
Mingyu, on the other hand, turned out to be a late bloomer. When he passed his twentieth birthday without an ability manifesting, his smile dimmed in a way that hurt Jeonghan to see.
“Look,” Mingyu whispers, bringing his hands up in between their bodies pressed close together. They slowly pull apart, revealing a small but undeniable ball of light.
Jeonghan’s eyes grow large and flick in wonder between the light in Mingyu’s hands and his face, beaming in a smile that seems lit from within. Actually—
“Are you literally glowing?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” Mingyu answers sheepishly. Now that Jeonghan knows to look for it, there is a subtle golden glow under his skin.
“Wah, my golden boy Mingoo, all grown up with light powers,” Jeonghan coos—far more sincere than he might have been if he were fully awake and on camera—and Mingyu squirms in half-embarrassed delight. His hand comes up to brush Mingyu’s hair out of his face and cup his cheek.
Mingyu pulls his hands back together to extinguish the light. Even in the dark, Jeonghan swears he can see Mingyu’s eyes sparkle.
“I’m sorry for waking you up hyung, I just really had to show you.” Ah, his Mingyu, always so unbearably earnest.
Jeonghan supposes that the warmth he feels at Mingyu coming to him to share his magic might make up for the interrupted sleep.
“Stay,” he says as he gently pushes Mingyu onto his back and burrows into his side, “just keep the light down.”
“Sure, hyung, I’ll stay.”
Jeonghan tucks his head into Mingyu’s neck, arm across his chest, and falls back asleep.