Sanghyuk’s eyes flick to Wonsik’s empty bed on the other side of the bedroom from his for the hundredth time, checking the clock on his phone even though he already knows what time it is. It’s two ing a.m., that’s what it is, and ing Wonsik –

Sanghyuk closes his eyes and exhales in aggravation. Wonsik won’t listen to Hakyeon’s concern over his bedtimes getting later and later, he won’t listen to Hongbin’s sharp-tongued scolding about eating so little and working out so much, and he won’t listen to his body, either, that is steadily losing weight and strength. Sanghyuk would’ve thought after what happened in Mexico Wonsik would have realised he needs to take better care of himself, but! Apparently! Not!

Fine. Time to take things into Sanghyuk’s own hands.

Sanghyuk gets up and changes his pajamas for proper clothes, making sure he’s got his wallet and phone with him. Nobody else is awake at this hour – everyone with any cow sense is asleep, recharging for tomorrow’s flight and schedules in Osaka. Everyone but Wonsik, who clearly possesses no sense whether human or animal; and Sanghyuk, of course, who had stupidly waited up for him thinking maybe tonight Wonsik would make it home before midnight.

Sanghyuk leaves the dorm as quietly as possible, knowing that somehow Hakyeon is still going to find out the next day that he snuck out at two a.m. In his defence, it’s for a good cause.

He arrives at the company building a little past two thirty and asks the cab to wait before heading straight up to the practice studios. It’s not going to take long to bundle his hyung up and frogmarch him down to the taxi. He’s going to make Wonsik pay for it, anyway.

The soft glow of light coming from under the door of Wonsik’s studio is as expected, and Sanghyuk halts a moment at the sight, his heart aching. Sanghyuk is a hard worker – he’s no stranger to late nights and endless practice, but there’s a desperation and mindless drive to Wonsik’s striving for perfection and productivity that scares Sanghyuk. It’s like Wonsik takes their idol lifespan deadline more seriously than any of them even though Sanghyuk knows that’s not true; they’re all taking steps to ensure their longevity, but for Wonsik it’s never been only a career and a salary and he’d be horrified to hear anyone describe it that way.

Sanghyuk pushes open the door, startling Wonsik and making him jump.

“Hyukkie?” His voice is tired, skin washed out by the glare of his computer monitor. “It’s – , it’s almost three, what are you doing here?”

Sanghyuk just stares back meaningfully in answer – could ask you the same damn thing – and starts gathering up Wonsik’s phone and other things scattered on his desk without a further word.

“Hyuk,” Wonsik protests, trying to stop him with a hand on his arm. “I’ve just got this part of the song to finish-”

“The cab’s waiting downstairs, hyung.” Sanghyuk tells him firmly. “Let’s go.”

“But-”

Sanghyuk bends down and lifts Wonsik bodily out of his chair, Wonsik going limp in resignation, putting him down to one side in front of the door and beginning to save and shut down the open recording programs on the computer. Behind him Wonsik sighs in defeat.

“Is this what you meant when you said I’m the easiest hyung to bully?”

“No,” Sanghyuk says bluntly, turning around and looking Wonsik in the eye. “Come on.”

Wonsik falls asleep almost immediately in the taxi, even though the ride is barely twenty minutes long, and Sanghyuk tries to hide his grin at the cab driver stealing shocked glances in the rearview mirror at Wonsik who’s snoring like an ancient sea beast. He forgets sometimes how terrifying Wonsik’s snoring is to other people, having gotten used to it after five years of sleeping in the same room such that now it’s just dull background noise. It’s the main reason why he volunteered to room with Wonsik again once they moved to their new dorm, though not the only one.

Sanghyuk resists the urge to pull Wonsik towards him and let his head rest more comfortably on Sanghyuk’s shoulder. He looks so small like this, somehow – thinner than Sanghyuk has ever seen him in nearly five years and tired out.

Sanghyuk ends up paying the cab driver.

He half-supports, half-drags a groggy Wonsik back up to their dorm, steering him towards the kitchen and pushing him down into a chair at the dining table before trying to stack as much ham and cheese and ketchup between two slices of bread as he can manage. Wonsik makes a dubious face at the sandwich, but Sanghyuk knows Wonsik hasn’t had dinner. He hates how he knows that with so much certainty.

After Wonsik has obediently eaten Sanghyuk tows him back to their room, cheekily leaving the plate in the sink for one of the others to wash the next morning. Sanghyuk quietly helps him take off his accessories – rings, bracelets, earrings – before pressing a bath towel and soft sleep clothes into Wonsik’s hands, Wonsik standing there a moment in the middle of their room looking like he has something to say; after a moment of staring at Sanghyuk, he shuffles out towards the bathroom.

Sanghyuk has always been the youngest – youngest in his immediate and extended family, youngest member in Vixx – always naturally being taken care of instead of having to think about taking care of others, but this hyung; this soft, gentle hyung who pushes himself too hard and gives too much without remembering to take; this hyung that doesn’t feel like a hyung at all, he wants to protect.

Sanghyuk gets into Wonsik’s bed with him once he’s back, hair still damp and smelling of Hongbin’s shampoo.

“Bin hyung is going to kill you when he realises his shampoo is finishing faster than it should be,” he murmurs, pulling Wonsik in close, wrapping himself around his hyung’s body like a cocoon. “He’ll know it’s you.”

Wonsik rumbles with laughter in Sanghyuk’s arms. “He’ll forgive me.”

“He’s too soft on you,” Sanghyuk says. “All of us are. We should ban you from staying out past eleven.”

“Am I a child?” Wonsik protests indignantly into Sanghyuk’s chest.

“No, you’re just stupid.” Sanghyuk tightens his arms around Wonsik.

“You shouldn’t be calling your hyung stupid,” Wonsik mumbles, guilty, and feels feather-light kisses fall one by one onto the crown of his head. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Then eat more. Sleep more. Then I won’t worry.”

Wonsik savours the words he knows Sanghyuk will never say in the presence of others. They glow inside his chest.

“ my hair so I can sleep,” he orders drowsily, feeling Sanghyuk scoff at the spoiled request at the same time fingers far more gentle and tender than Sanghyuk is generally thought of being start combing through his hair, caressing softly. Wonsik smiles where Sanghyuk can’t see it.

“I love you,” Wonsik mumbles, body heavy in Sanghyuk’s arms and more asleep than awake but for this one last important thing.

Wonsik’s asleep and beginning to snore by the time Sanghyuk says it back, lips moving against Wonsik’s hair and whispering it into his skin.

*

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