pairing: bangup
rating: G
warnings: none

 Problems that come in the living-with-Yongguk package are minimal to none. He’s quiet, he cleans up after himself, he likes to keep the windows open when it’s warm outside, and he even cooks sometimes. Or, tries to. But Jongup can’t care less about Yongguk’s lacking culinary skills, because they barely have time to eat a full meal at home more than once a week, anyway. What bothers him is that, despite the fact that there’s only one bed in the apartment, Jongup often finds himself sleeping alone. He knows that it isn’t because Yongguk doesn’t want to share a bed with him, he just has trouble sleeping sometimes. He knows that sometimes Yongguk just forgets to go to bed.

When it’s the insomnia, Yongguk always at least tries to get some rest, and that makes Jongup feel better. He’ll get under the blankets with Jongup and hold him from behind, until he just can’t lie still awake anymore. Or, sometimes, until he does manage to fall asleep, usually with a hand over the middle of Jongup’s chest, or his fingers pressed to the inside of his wrist, right over his pulse.

But when it’s not that, and Jongup falls asleep alone and wakes up at three in the morning cold, he finds himself frowning.

Everyone says that Jongup is the most difficult to wake up in the morning. They say that he’s always late, because he loves to sleep in so much. As true as that is, when there’s something on his mind (in these cases, Yongguk), sleep is impossible.

This time, he’s found himself tossing and turning for over an hour, staring at the digital clock on the bedside table and thinking about what Yongguk is doing. Did he get caught up in his work again? What if he fell asleep at his desk? The last time that happened, he hadn’t been able to turn his neck to the left until four hours had passed and Jongup practically forced him into a hot bath.

Jongup knows he shouldn’t worry about these things; he knows that Yongguk is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He tells Jongup all the time that he doesn’t need to worry. But how can he not?

Once again he finds himself rolling over to face the clock. It takes a few minutes for him to wiggle out of the twisted prison of sheets he’s gotten his legs stuck in, but he manages to stumble to his feet and grab a shirt off the floor (he’s not as good with the whole cleaning-up-after-himself thing as Yongguk is yet). He drags a blanket off the bed for good measure, too, and throws it around his shoulders like a cape. It drags a bit on the ground while he walks, something that his mother would have scolded him for.

Even though he’s been restless all night, fatigue is still crouched behind the windows of his eyes, weighing his body down to give sleepiness the opportunity to trip him over things and knock his feet and elbows into the door frame as he waddles his way out of the room.

The hallway is dark, having been left to slowly lose its navagitability as the sun had sunk in the late afternoon. Jongup follows the blinding glow that leaks around the corner from the living room, and he pauses in the open archway while his eyes adjust to the brightness of the lamp at one corner of the sofa. Yongguk hasn’t noticed him yet, as expected, and continues to study the notepad he’s holding in front of his face. Jongup thinks the paper is too close to his eyes. There’s a pencil – or is it a pen? – perched behind Yongguk’s ear, and when Jongup sees him reach up to grab it, he takes the few steps forward that close the distance between them and snatches it away before Yongguk’s hand has even made it higher than his own shoulder. When Yongguk turns around, his eyebrows are drawn together just enough for three tiny creases to fold in between them. Jongup presses his index finger there to smooth them away, but it only makes Yongguk raise an eyebrow and crease his forehead, instead, confused.

“Hey.” Jongup doesn’t mean for it to come out as a whisper, but he can barely hear himself speaking.

“What’re you doing?” Yongguk asks. “I’m working.”

Jongup puts the pencil down on the table beside them, and rests his hand on Yongguk’s cheek instead. “Do you know what time it is?”

Yongguk seems to consider the question for a long time, before finally tilting his head and saying that no, he doesn’t know what time it is, because he hasn’t been paying attention to the clock. He raises his gaze to inspect Jongup’s face. There are dusky smudges under his eyes, the color of dried lavender in the bright light of the lamp. Strands of fly-away hair rest against his forehead, some bits long enough to fall past his eyes, though not enough that he can’t see them. His eyes. Jongup’s eyes, which seem to be struggling to keep focus on one thing, darting around to clear the fog that settles in every time he lets them linger too long in one direction.

“It’s some insane hour of the morning, isn’t it?” Yongguk asks the question more like it’s an assumption. Jongup nods and lifts his other hand so that he’s cupping Yongguk’s face for a moment, brushing his thumb over his cheek before letting his hands fall to instead wrap his arms around his neck, hugging him from behind. He leans his head against the side of Yongguk’s neck, and one of Yongguk’s hand rises to rest in his hair.

“Just past three,” Jongup answers.

Yongguk laughs softly. “Could be worse,” he says. “But why aren’t you asleep?”

Jongup blushes and straightens up, reaching down to grab Yongguk’s hand and tug it lightly in his direction. “Cold.”

Yongguk smiles at his answer. It’s so like Jongup, in the best way possible, to be able to convey thousands of phrases and words by speaking only just one aloud. Maybe it’s because of how much time he’s spent with him, but Yongguk knows what Jongup really means. He can see it when he turns his head again and stands up, flipping the notebook in his hands shut and tossing it onto the coffee table.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, squeezing Jongup’s hand as he’s pulled through the hallway (not before turning off the light) and pushed into their room.

“Get changed and come sleep with me,” Jongup says, letting himself fall backwards onto the bed, still wrapped up in his blanket.

“Why, Jongup, I thought you’d never ask,” Yongguk says with a tired grin, making Jongup groan and bury his face in a pillow.

“Actual sleeping,” he mumbles. “But that does remind me, brush your teeth, too.” He laughs when Yongguk balls up the shirt he's just taken off an throws it at him.

“One time,” Yongguk mutters as he makes his way to the bathroom. “ One time."

"That's all it takes," Jongup calls after him.