It was well-known that Ryeowook was a deep sleeper. Sometimes he seemed almost comatose in the middle of the night, so Yesung was rather positive that the younger man didn’t know about his secret. Every once in a while, when he was crazy-stressed or worried or just not feeling well, he would sneak into the eternal maknae’s room and curl up next to him on the bed, holding Ryeowook close like he was a teddy bear. Before the younger awoke, he would slip back to his own room, feeling better but wishing that he could sleep like that every night.

Ryeowook did know, however, about his hyung’s little secret. One night he’d been stirred from his sleep early in the morning and had found a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his waist. At first, he was startled, but once he realized who it was, he relaxed and easily fell back asleep, loving the feeling of being next to the man he secretly adored. He always treasured those nights when Yesung came to sleep with him.

This continued for several months before, all of a sudden, Yesung stopped coming. Ryeowook, who had grown rather accustomed to sleeping in his hyung’s arms, began to notice that night after night, week after week, Yesung never appeared by his side, never snuck in when he thought the maknae was sleeping. He began to have difficulty sleeping, which affected his performance during their various schedules, but he wouldn’t talk with anyone about what was bothering him. He would fix this himself.

It had been nearly two months since Yesung had last snuck into his room and he lay awake, staring at the ceiling with wide, red-rimmed eyes. He’d reached the point where he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t do this. Being as quiet as he possibly could, Ryeowook slid off his bed and crept though his door, moving silently down the hall to the room at the end. He hesitated for a moment, but eventually caved, opening the door just enough for him to squeeze into the room. He waited for a second for his eyes to get adjusted to the dark and then he saw the vague outline of his hyung spread out on his bed.

Ryeowook slowly, carefully, lay down on the bed next to Yesung, keeping his eyes trained on the older man’s face in case he woke up. He didn’t, though, and Ryeowook, smiling happily at his success, snuggled up next to him, closing his eyes and falling into a light sleep.

Ryeowook’s plan wasn’t exactly well-thought-out, however, because he didn’t wake up before Yesung and sneak back to his own room. Later that morning, when the older man’s alarm went off, he found his dongsaeng sleeping peacefully next to him, looking like a (very tired) angel.

Yesung put a hand on Ryeowook’s shoulder, gently shaking him awake.

“Wookie…”

“Five more minutes…” the younger man mumbled, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in a pillow. Suddenly, he shot up, obviously panicked. “Damn! Hyung, I’m so sorry, I just—”

He was cut off as Yesung flopped back down on the bed and pulled the younger man to his chest, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding him tightly.

“It’s okay, Wookie,” he murmured, his husky voice like music to Ryeowook’s ears. “You can sleep here as much as you’d like.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say it, but he was glad that the maknae had snuck into his room and hadn’t left before he realized it. “And…I think we can sleep a little more.”

Ryeowook, his face slightly red, just nodded and closed his eyes, marveling in the feeling of his hyung’s arms around him. This was what he wanted. He felt so safe and warm and comfortable. He knew, without a doubt, that he would, from now on, be spending the nights wrapped up in Yesung’s arms.