Work Text:
Anxin liked their new dorm. He loved how spacious it was compared to his accommodation and even the rooms they got during Boys 2 Planet. Unlike before, they had bigger rooms now, and it made him feel more accomplished. It felt more of a home, too, than just a dorm. It’s not a space where he could just rest before going to work; it’s a place where he can breathe. Unwind. Let himself be himself. As what homes are for.
More than that, he savored the privilege of having privacy. Even if he could only enjoy his new home after the grueling hours of practice and recordings, it still felt like basking in luxury, and he was glad that they were at that point in their careers where they could afford small luxuries like this.
Of course, it was understandable that he had to share with Xinlong hyung. It was only right that his other hyungs get the solo rooms, as they were also the ones who always stayed in the company building even after work hours.
For what it’s worth, the room that Anxin got had a large window where he could look out and see the Han river from a distance. The night sky was always visible from where he would lie down on his bed too, and it became one of his favorite things about his room.
However, it wasn’t easy moving into a new place.
Lately, he had been finding himself homesick—and it was bad. He only felt this horrible when he first moved to South Korea. He didn’t honestly expect that he’d experience it again when they transferred to their new living quarters.
Sure, he had his members with him, so it was still home. But there was a gnawing gap in his chest that grew more pronounced when the quiet of the night settled.
As Anxin stared at the ceiling of his new room, he often found himself questionably wide awake. Not a single cell of him wanted sleep, even after a long day.
He had tried counting sheep and stars, watching his favorite ASMR videos, and even pretending to be asleep, but to no avail. Beside him, Xinlong hyung would fall asleep like a rock in an instant. Anxin grew jealous of him for that. Instead, the darkness enveloped him like an old friend, and he wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with that.
So, without a second thought, Anxin got up and allowed himself to mindlessly walk around their dorm, only to find himself standing right outside of his Sangwon hyung’s bedroom.
He wasn’t even aware that he had walked in that direction, with Sangwon’s room being at the other far end of the hallway. One moment, he was just counting the tiles as he listened to the dulled city noises from outside, and the next, he was hit by the familiar scent of jasmine, vanilla, and sandalwood.
What caught him off-guard, however, was the fact that Sangwon had left his door partially open, and Anxin could hear faint music coming from it.
For a minute, he just stood there. He didn’t know why he wouldn’t simply walk back to his own room, why he couldn’t simply walk away from the familiar and, dare he say, intimate smell that pulled out folder upon folder of his memories from their days back in the survival show.
Anxin knew that he could’ve, but he didn’t.
He just stood there, letting himself slowly sink into Sangwon’s air and drowning in nostalgia.
That was until a sleepy “Anxinie?” echoed from the room.
This pulled him out of his reverie and stiffened every muscle in his body. Anxin grew rigidly still, standing outside the partially open door of Sangwon’s bedroom, when he began to hear light footsteps. Then, the door creaked, opened wider, and there was his hyung; half-awake and lovely. His hair was messy, so it was obvious to Anxin that he had woken up his hyung.
Great.
“Sorry, hyung, I—”
“Having trouble sleeping again?”
The question was muttered, but its implication was loud. Sangwon knew, and Anxin was speechless. With a soft smile, Sangwon looked up at him, squinting, and spoke again.
“Wanna sleep here? With me?”
It almost felt like the bones of his body shattered as Anxin tried to process Sangwon’s question.
“There’s only one bed.”
“So?”
Anxin swallowed the lump in his throat. Sangwon watched him closely as his eyes softened.
“Anxin-ah. C’mon. Let’s sleep.”
The ground beneath him was quicksand, and he wasn’t even thinking about getting out.
He wanted to say something, tell his hyung that he wasn’t a child anymore, and leave. He wanted to straighten his back and just walk away—but he didn’t. Anxin was homesick, after all.
Wordlessly, Anxin took a step closer to Sangwon. Then another. Then another. Until he was inside Sangwon’s bedroom. Until he was standing over Sangwon’s bed. Until he was looking down at Sangwon, who was lying down on his bed. Until he was watching Sangwon gently scoot closer to the wall and tap the empty space beside him. Until he was in Sangwon’s bed. Until he was facing Sangwon.
“You know,” Sangwon whispered so quietly that Anxin almost missed it, “you could’ve just told me earlier that you were having trouble sleeping again.”
“It’s just the new dorm, hyung.”
Sangwon hummed at this as he shut his eyes.
“Well, I’m always here if you need me.”
Anxin continued to watch Sangwon as he fell back asleep. He only noticed now that Sangwon has left his night light on, and it brought back memories of when they shared Room 202. Remembering the way Sangwon would read to him quietly whenever he had trouble sleeping, Anxin felt his body relax.
Anxin continued to watch Sangwon as his hyung drifted far away from him, with Anxin’s heartbeat mimicking the steady rhythm of Sangwon’s breathing. He remembered how Sangwon would talk in his sleep sometimes. He wondered if he did the same. His hyung told him that he did sometimes, especially after a long day of practice. When asked what he said, Sangwon looked at him fondly and told Anxin that he only spoke in Mandarin.
“I wish I spoke your language, you know,” Anxin remembered Sangwon telling him, “just so that I could understand you better.”
Anxin wondered if he meant his sleep talk or something else. (Anxin, knowing Sangwon, was sure that it was more than that.)
As Anxin continued to watch Sangwon, he dared himself to get closer, crowding against Sangwon’s smaller frame. Like this, he could feel Sangwon’s warmth better than he usually do with Xinlong. It reminded him of his childhood—sleeping under the window during the afternoons, listening to his mother watching her afternoon dramas. Like this, he was reminded of his home back in Shanghai.
Anxin continued to watch Sangwon as he inevitably drowned in the smell of home. The jasmine and sandalwood scent of Sangwon’s bed covers reminded him of his mother. Anxin could feel his tears welling up in his eyes. As Sangwon shifted, snuggling closer towards Anxin, he knew that he could let it out.
So, he did. He could feel warm tears streaming down his cheeks, his nose growing stuffy by the minute. Tomorrow, he’ll try to explain to his hyung why the pillow case was wet. Tomorrow, he’ll try to come up with excuses as to why he was wandering around their dorm in the dark. Tomorrow, he’ll have to learn how to sleep on his own.
For now, however, Anxin let himself have this—in the comfort of Sangwon’s bed, against the warmth of Sangwon’s flesh.
Anxin, on the brink of sleep, told to himself that it wasn’t just homesickness after all.