Work Text:
Chan had a pounding headache. It was day four of the trip, with god-knows-how-many more days ahead of them, but he was already exhausted. His head laid in his left hand, of which was resting on the window sill, his right hand holding on to the steering wheel. The obnoxiously loud cheering coming from who knows driving his headache on. They were playing among us, Chan knows that, but whomever was cheering must’ve won. Chan just sighs, resignation coursing through his bones. He wasn’t even going to ask, there was no point. Those boys were lucky he loved them. (Not that there's anything wrong with them. Chan loves them and would love them no matter what. They just...gave Chan a run for his sanity. And health. These boys are going to be the death of him. He supposes the headaches and heart attacks are worth it though, being with his boys is his favorite place to be, and he would follow them wherever they go even it means enduring never ending arguments.)
Chan debated putting his headphones in, maybe put on music to help drain out the noise that emitted from the car, but Chan knew that would just make his headache worse. Gosh dang it, Chan despises migraines. Not that he thought anyone likes them, they’re awful. Chan just pushes through it, finally tuning into the conversation floating around the car.
“Take that, suckers!” Jisung yells, pumping his fists in the air and sticking his tongue out at the others.
“Very mature.” Chan mumbles, a deadpan look overtaking his face. Nobody hears him, not that he expects them to. Minho turns where he was sitting in the passenger seat, facing Jisung.
“You cheater! You were definitely looking at my phone the whole time.” Minho accuses. The immaturity of these boys astound Chan every time. Jisung’s jaw drops, his scandalized face staring at Minho.
“I can’t believe you would think that about me. Do you have no faith in me at all?” Jisung shakes his head in disappointment, clearly trying to keep a smile laced with giggles at bay. Minho huffs.
“Liar.” Jisung rolls his eyes and looks away. Deflector. Chan internally tuts at the response. Felix’ giggles echo throughout the car.
“You guys were both cheating, sillies, I saw you texting Changbin the whole time.” Felix directs his comment at Minho. Jisung gasps and looks at Minho with a smug smile. Changbin pales.
“I can’t believe you! How dare you help the imposter cheat!” Hyunjin stares at Changbin, who was in the back row, with betrayal sparkling in his eyes. Chanbin just looks away with embarrassment.
“Minho wasn’t even the imposter,” Seungmin whispers into Chan’s ear, leaning forward in an attempt to only let Chan hear the comment. Chan barks out a laugh at that. The argument halts. Everyone looks at Chan.
“What do you know, Mr. Christopher.” Jeongin narrows his eyes. Chan just giggles.
“Why, I have no idea what you mean, I am but an innocent bean.” The whole car erupts in opposition.
Minho gently nudges Chan’s arm. The car had quieted down significantly, the darkness of the night and the gentle movement of the car lulling most of them asleep, Chan being on the verge of joining them.
“Hm?” Chan questions, looking at Minho with sleepy curiosity (which Minho found absolutely adorable.) Minho smiles.
“Let’s pull over, our hotel in another hour and you look exhausted, I don’t want you falling asleep while driving. I’ll take it over.” Minho whispers softly. Chan smiles gratefully. Chan looks back at the road and pulls to the shoulder of the road, quietly opening the door, trying not to awaken the (fully grown) kids. Chan sees Minho doing the same thing. Chan walks around the car, opening the passenger door and tiredly flopping into the seat, barely buckling his seatbelt before he promptly conks out. He was asleep before he could hear Minho’s loving chuckle, which caused the younger to be subjected to Seungmin’s endless teasing.
Minho rouses Chan from sleep, nudging him back and forth until Chan blinks his eyes open, groggily looking around to see what he was woken for.
“We’re here.” Minho smiles, exhaustion pulling at the edges of his smile. Chan glances at the time. 02:13. The middle of the night. Chan glances in the rearview mirror to see the pleasing sight of all six boys sleeping peacefully. It was unfortunate that Chan had to wake them up. He looks at Minho with desperation. Minho chuckles.
“I know, I know, you don’t want to wake them up, but we can’t just leave them in the car.” Chan pouts but relents, sighing as he kicks the door open and trudges to the back seat door of their van. They were packed in like sardines, trying to shove eight 19-23 year old boys in a chevy suburban was not the most comfortable arrangement, but they were a bunch of kids in college, they couldn’t afford to rent a 12 person van, and Chan had the suburban, so why not put it to good use. (As if it wasn’t already used a bunch, all the boys insisted Chan to be their chauffeur. Chan never thought he’d see himself hit 100,000 miles on a car, yet here he was. This trip wasn’t helping the mileage, either, but Chan was having a blast, no matter how much he denied it, and he wouldn’t change it for anything)
Chan started with Jisung, who was sitting closest to the door, unbuckling him and shaking him from unconsciousness. Jisung tiredly swats at Chan’s hand, mumbling something unintelligible, before facing his head away from Chan. Chan huffs amusedly, eyes rolling with fondness as he shakes Jisung again.
“It’s time to get up, baby, we’re at the hotel.” Chan whispers.
“No,” Jisung complains, face screwing up as he drags out the ‘O’. Chan breathes heavily with not-very-annoyed annoyance.
“Yes,” Chan retorts, dragging the ‘S’ out and continuously shaking Jisung. He finally opens his eyes, playfully glaring at Chan as he rolls out of his seat and onto the concrete, the chill of the ground making its way to Jisung’s shoeless (but socked) feet. Jisung shivers, the biting, October wind attacking his skin. He whines. Chan doesn’t pay him any attention, instead getting into the car where Jisung was and working to wake up Felix in Seungmin, who were sitting in the middle row, as well. Those two get up easily enough, but, once they get out of the car and Chan pulls down the middle seats, he bravely looks at the greater challenge. Changbin and Hyunjin. Jeongin would be fairly easy, but Changbin and Hyunjin? Boy, were they going to put up a fight.
Of course, Chan was right, it took him nearly ten minutes to get those two up, alone, but finally, they were standing outside the hotel door, Minho carrying the bag with their toiletries and changes of clothing. They found it was easier if they packed one bag with one pair of clothing for each boy and one bag with toiletries, rather than taking in their backpacks and suitcases every night, especially when it was absurdly late, like it was now. Despite the complaints, the boys look awake enough to make the treacherous trek to the reception desk. Minho goes in first, greeting the worker nicely.
“Hello. Do you, perchance, have any rooms open tonight?” He asks. The worker freezes for a moment.
“Well…” She starts, words trailing. “We do, but we only have one left.” She looks mortified, Minho doesn’t understand why.
“Perfect, we’ll take it!” Minho is confused, but he still manages to take out his credit card and ID. The worker fiddles with her sleek red uniform sleeves.
“Well, you see, it only has one bed.” She looks as if she wanted to dig a hole and die right there, on the spot. Minho is still confused.
“Okay? This is the best birthday present I could’ve asked for!” He exclaime. Jisung laughs tiredly, Chan and Seungmin groan as if over Minho’s antics. The worker just looks concerned.
“There are,” She pauses for a moment. “There are eight of you!”
“Yes. There are. Good job counting.” Minho deadpans. Chan groans. He knows he should’ve done this, rather than Minho, but he stays still, letting the worker continue.
“There is one bed. There are eight of you. That is literally illegal, I cannot give you one room for eight fully grown men.” She states plainly. Minho sighs.
“Listen, it is almost three in the morning and we are all exhausted. Just give us the key, we’ll pay, and we’ll be out of your hair before eight.” Minho negotiates. The worker seems to debate this in her head, staying quiet for a few moments before folding. She sighs.
“Okay, just don’t tell anyone I let you do that.” She holds a key over a black box, the computer beeping and the box going green. Minho gives her his credit card and ID, both of which she checks over and swipes across a card reader. The computer beeps again. The worker hands Minho the three cards.
“Room 325, floor three, to the right. The elevators are behind you.” She says boredly. Minho thanks her and leads his herd of boys to the elevator, playing tetris to try and fit them all, very possibly exceeding the weight limit. Oh well, he just hopes they don’t get stuck. Most of the boys had yet to process what had just happened. Felix breaks the silence.
“Are we seriously all sleeping on one bed?” He asks, voice void of any emotion. Minho giggles.
“Yeah,” He sighs wistfully. Felix glares.
“How are we supposed to fit eight people on one king size bed? Are we gonna play Jenga with our bodies?” Felix snarks, Minho’s grin just grows wider.
“We’re gonna cuddle close tonight!” He announces, happily. The other boys were not, in fact, happy about this. The eight slowly trudge to the room, the furthest one from the elevator, of course. Hyunjin kept insisting they were making him walk a mile, even though it was not nearly that long but, in their sleep-riddled state, Chan had to admit, it felt like an eternity before they reached the room. Minho tried to open the door but, with his hands full with bags, he looked like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time. Chan plucked the room key out of Minho’s hands, ignoring the protests in claims he was doing just fine. Chan held the key to the door, hearing a beep and pushing himself into the room, holding the door open for the group of boys like a gentleman (even if none of them said thank you. Chan likes to think they’re thankful in their heads). Of course, right as they put their stuff down, they all suddenly get a burst of energy. ‘Just kill me,’ Chan thinks to himself, miserably flopping on the bed and letting out a small, miserable sob, drowned out in the sea of noise caused by whatever argument one of them has caused over god knows what. Chan feels the mattress dip next to him, causing him to be angled in an awkward position. Chan feels a hand rub up and down on his back.
“You can’t take up the whole bed, we only have one,” Minho teases. Chan lets out another sob. Minho lays down next to him, wrapping his arms around Chan’s waist and holding him close, Chan crying from exhaustion. He sounds so so defeated when he says,
“I’m so tired, I just want to sleep,” He cries.
“I know, I know, shh, I know,” Minho tries to comfort. The room quiets down. Another weight joins the bed, curling up next to Chan. Another one, pillowing Chan’s head in their thigh and running their hands through his hair. Another one, two more, laying on top of Chan, just like a weighted blanket. Another, next to his head, and one last one, sitting far away but still touching Chan. It seems they were able to fit eight people on one bed and sleep comfortably.
Chan wakes from his peaceful sleep to the sound of screaming. He really shouldn’t be surprised, these boys never seemed to be able to be quiet, but Chan was still mournful of the sleep that was lost. The man could still dream. Maybe.
“There’s a spider in my bed!” Jisung shrieks, his feet kicking the blanket he had somehow got after Chan fell asleep, down. Minho was not pleased with the prospect of being woken up by Jisung kicking him. The death glare he aims at the younger boy is lethal.
“It was my hair, dumbo.” Minho is not amused. Jisung cringes.
“Why is your hair so spindly?!” He tries to defend.
“Because it’s hair?” He snarks. Chan rolls out of bed.
“We need to get going, anyways, it’s almost eight. We can shower tonight.” Exhaustion was not kind to Chan. Jisung’s face screws up.
“That’s dumb.” He states.
“Yeah, yeah, complain about it while you’re getting dressed.” Chan waves him off. Jisung complies.
They somehow manage to rouse all five of the still asleep boys just in time to book it to the lobby and throw the room key on the counter, hurriedly saying thank you to the worker– the same one from last night– and jumping into the car right as the clock hit eight. Chan sighs a sigh of relief. Another successful night. He just hopes they can get at least two beds at the hotel tonight. Alas, all he can do is hope and pray and force all the boys to keep their fingers crossed.
(Jisung complained after barely two minutes about his fingers cramping. Chan accepts the excuse and just hopes it was enough to please whoever was up there in the sky)
(It was not enough)