“Hyung,” Taemin whispered. “Hyung.” Minho turned around, really not enjoying the sound of Taemin practically hissing in his ear at some ungodly hour of the morning.

“What,” he growled, and Taemin frowned at him.

“Be nice,” Taemin scolded, but Minho just grumbled into his pillow.

“It’s too early; I feel like I’m going to die of lack of sleep,” he complained.

“Stop whining,” Taemin deadpanned. “It’s Olympics time, hyung! You have to get up! We’re going to watch the opening ceremony, remember?”

Minho grudgingly got out of bed and followed Taemin to the room with the television, where they turned it on quietly so as not to wake up Taemin’s mother.

It was a long ceremony, but Minho and Taemin did not forget to sing “Victory Korea” when the Korean team paraded in, cheering (quietly, of course) for their country.

“We’re going to do great this year, right, hyung?” Taemin asked, and Minho nodded vigorously, finally fully awake.

“Yes we are, Taeminnie,” Minho replied. “I love the Olympics.”