insomniatic Mingyu seeks help from Wonwoo to fall asleep
1181 words by Meagan

Mingyu’s head turned to the side, eyes flickering from the silhouetted dresser to the dim streaks of light displayed across the unfamiliar walls, the shades of yellow radiance glimmering against the monochromatic scheme of the nearly pitch-black room.  His tongue darted out to wet his continuously drying lips, jaw hanging despite the anxiety that ruptured him with its bleak talons.  The rhythmic pattern of his breaths accompanied the ticking of the room’s air conditioning unit and the squeals of tires that filled the empty expanse of the outside world, ears unable to focus on one singular sound, instead opting to listen to all three simultaneously.

Fingers scratched at the smooth bedsheets, crumpling them as Mingyu’s hands balled into tight fists, eyes cramming themselves shut, a wash of anger flowing through every bubble of his being.  His once relaxed jaw clenched, teeth grinding together in an awful, yet comforting screech; with feet soon joining in the same tempo that the white masses moved together, creating the sound of sheets rustling to follow along with all other noises surrounding him.

A hum released itself from the depths of Mingyu’s chest, playing to the tune of the most recent song to grace his ears, whispered words shortly following the beat he’d given himself, the smoothness of the song soaring around the room’s uncomfortable silence.  Soon whispers became low mumbles, not quite on the coherent side all the while still able to sooth Mingyu’s heart, the shakiness that began to overtake his fingertips slowly dissipating.

A long exhale followed the last of the lyrics Mingyu bothered to retain, brain struggling to hurry and relieve him from the stillness that trailed after his utterances but to absolutely no avail did he recall the next stanza.  Despite the reluctance he felt firing in himself, Mingyu rolled to his side, throwing his arm outward and letting his fingers roam the chilled wooden surface beside the bed until he came in contact with an even cooler lump, wrapping his fingers around it and instinctively pressing the button on the bottom.

His eyes drifted across the phone’s display photo, the cheeks of the image’s subject plumped with the small smile that adorned his features, hair falling just slightly above his downcast eyes, whose eyelashes fell in soft lapses.  The pad of Mingyu’s index finger swept quickly over the screen, allowing him to observe the many applications that filled the expanse before tapping the dialer, immediately inputting the digits of his largest comfort’s number.

He lie silently, phone pressed against his ear as the incessant ringing bustled not once, but twice, and three times before ceasing, a slowly released breath filled the absence.

“He…” the male on the other line cleared his throat, “Hello?”

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu breathed, an instant wave of familiarity rushing out every fiber that once coursed through him with anxiety and vex.

“Mingyu?”  the deeper voice yawned out, the shuffling of covers resonating through the speaker.  “It’s like uh… really late… You okay?”

A tide of guilt barreled through the caller, an apology instantly seeping from him without warning, “Sorry, I’m sorry.  I just… Sorry, go back to sleep…”  Although he had no actual want of Wonwoo to hang up and return to his previous activity, he couldn’t bear the thought of keeping the other awake when he also needed sleep, just as badly as Mingyu needed at this very moment.

“I’m awake now, though,” Wonwoo’s sleep-ridden laugh enlightened Mingyu’s ears, the sound replaying moments after the chuckle had ceased.  “So, what’s wrong?”

A hum tingled against Mingyu’s vocal chords before his voice crackled out, “I don’t… I don’t really know,” he confessed, chest dropping with a breath of defeat.  “I just feel weird… and, and I can’t fall asleep because of it.”

“Mmm,” Wonwoo ran a hand through frazzled hair as he sat up in his own bed, blankets sliding down his chest, pillows bunching together as he pressed his back against them.  “Let’s talk, then.”

“Wait, uh, actually, could you do something for me?” the younger asked eagerly, having missed the warmth that Wonwoo’s voice held.

“Anything,” the other breathed, lips curling in a smile that matched the one pulling against his boyfriend’s lips.

“Read to me…” he requested, knowing that Wonwoo kept a book tucked into the drawer of the bedside table, used to relax himself before a night’s slumber.

The older remained silent for a lingering moment, causing Mingyu to worry that he’d crossed the line, that in no way did Wonwoo want to focus on words at such a late hour of the night.  “Okay,” he mumbled, wood scratching against itself as he grabbed his current novel, flipping to the page he last read.

“Thank you, seriously… I love you, ya’know,” Mingyu’s words rushed out of him before Wonwoo could begin reading, needing to disclose his absolute appreciation for the older.

“I’m only doing this because I love you, too, so…”  the other’s voice trailed off as he teased the younger.  “Okay, here goes…”

Wonwoo’s deep voice flowed through Mingyu’s ears causing butterflies to erupt in his abdomen, fluttering in swirls of affection.  The words uttered didn’t so much pass through him, though, instead the fluctuation of the vocals spreading in his brain like bursts of colors spread onto a canvas, each flowing gorgeously into the next, appearing as an expanse of silken cloth that waved elegantly in the wind.

Against his will, Mingyu’s eyes flitted to a close, eyelashes resting atop his cheekbones as he listened intently to the man on the phone.  To the tone of Wonwoo’s words, his imagination rampaged, head leaning against the warmth of his pillow as he would his lover’s chest, willing himself to envision the vibrations that came from Wonwoo’s chest as he spoke ever so smoothly.  The depth of a passion that coursed over the voice slowed Mingyu’s pulse, his breaths evening as his grip on the device pressed flush against his head loosened, the plastic sliding downward.  

Refusing to allow himself to fall into unconsciousness, he resorted to picturing his boyfriend reading; unnecessary glasses perched on top of the bridge of his nose, fingers playing loosely at the next page as he readied himself to flip it over.  He pictured the sleeves of a gray pajama shirt covering the knuckles of Wonwoo’s slender fingers… the loose neck hanging past his protruding collarbones… skin smooth and milky under the fabric…

“But the moon remained silent; it told no stories.  All it did was embrace the heavy past with a cool, measured detachment…” the reader's voice distanced itself, eventually coming to a complete halt as he listened intently through the phone’s speaker.

A quiet chuckle glided past the lips that curled over Wonwoo’s teeth in a wide, sleepy grin.  “You just fell asleep,” he spoke softly, making sure he wouldn’t wake the younger.  “Good.  I know you can’t hear this,” he continued despite this knowledge.  “but I love you… And don’t worry, you’ll be home soon… And I’ll read for you again… though, next time, I’m gonna make you kiss me before you fall asleep.”