Word Count: 1130
Summary: Youngwoon is trying to sleep but it's difficult when his phone keeps buzzing with new messages.
A/N: Two words: Leeteuk's Instagram. On which he happily announces he's drunk after one can of Horoyoi. I'm so done with this guy. ♥
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Youngwoon has just managed to relax and find a good position to lie in, when his phone vibrates on the table and the noise makes him groan in annoyance. It’s his own fault for not having set the phone to the silent mode, but the thought of turning around to reach for the phone and thus spoiling his comfortable position is frustrating anyway.
It can’t be anything that important, he finally decides. At least not so important, it couldn’t wait until morning. He pulls the duvet higher until it reaches his nose enjoying the warmth and the smell of his freshly changed sheets.
Youngwoon is just about to fall asleep, when the phone vibrates again, and he’s startled fully awake again. He’s still not going to answer - damn it, he refuses to even open his eyes - but whoever it is, will be dead in the morning.
A few minutes later, the phone vibrates the third time. It’s not just a message anymore, but a phone call. Youngwoon lets out a frustrated moan, but this time he actually turns around and reaches towards the blinding light in the middle of darkness. It’s better be something deadly serious. (He uses a second to mentally locate each member of his band and his family, and tries to remember if everyone is or should be at home. He truly wishes it’s nothing too serious.)
Narrowing his eyes, Youngwoon zooms into the way-too-bright phone screen, and a row of filthy curses escapes his mouth. Kim fucking Heechul might not want to sleep at two in the night but Youngwoon definitely wishes he could. He’s so not going to answer. He won’t. Absolutely not. Nope.
“What the fuck Heechul?” he growls to the phone.
“Get up and go take Jungsu’s phone away from him,” Heechul says. “He’s spamming my feed with his drunken photos again. Make him sleep. Force him if you have to. Goodnight.”
There is a clicking noise when Heechul cuts the call. Youngwoon curses under his breath again before he sighs, taps on the Instagram icon on the screen of his phone, and scrolls through the feed from the last hour.
Yeah. It’s definitely time for someone to stop that guy.
A dim light shimmers from under Leeteuk’s door already before Youngwoon quietly pushes it open. Jungsu is there, buried under his huge white duvet cover, the pale light of his phone screen making his face look like a ghost. The world-famous can of cola-tasting drink stands on the small drawer next to Jungsu’s bed, and Youngwoon shakes his head at it.
With two quick strides Youngwoon is by Jungsu’s bedside and he swiftly snatches the phone off the man’s hands. Apparently it’s way too quick for Jungsu’s tired and drunken senses, as he winces and lets out a startled shriek.
“Don’t scream, for heaven’s sake!” Youngwoon gasps and raises his arms up in the air. “It’s just me.”
“Where did you come from?” Jungsu moans and drops his head back to his pillow. “And give me my phone back!”
“You don’t need it anymore,” Youngwoon says firmly and places the phone on the table so Jungsu can’t reach it without standing up. “Go to sleep, Jungsu.”
He can already see from Jungsu’s face that the man isn’t going to give up that easily. Sure, Jungsu often acts like a childish brat and is undeniably the worst crybaby of the group, but he’s also the oldest member with a leader’s pride, and Youngwoon knows Jungsu doesn’t especially like to be ordered around. (Maybe it’s because usually it’s himself doing so, not the other way around.)
“I won’t,” Jungsu says and sits up on his bed, making a face at Youngwoon and lifting his palm up towards him. “Give me my phone. You can’t just take things from people’s hands!”
It’s way too late for a conversation like this, and Youngwoon nearly gives in until his reluctant sense of responsibility hits in and he reminds himself Jungsu really needs every minute of sleep he can get.
“You’re right,” he admits. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take things from people’s hands.”
It’s worth seeing how Jungsu’s childish pout melts into confusion. It’s obvious he didn’t expect to actually win that argument.
“But I really am not giving it back to you. So how about I don’t just take it, but exchange it to something?”
“To what?” Jungsu manages to ask right before his face scrunches into a wide yawn. The sight is adorable enough that Youngwoon has to fight down a smile that pulls on the corners of his mouth.
“I’ll make you a favor tomorrow,” he offers. “If you go to sleep right now and promise not to touch your phone anymore.”
“Fine,” Jungsu agrees so quickly, it’s Youngwoon’s turn to be surprised.
“Well, uh. Let’s discuss that again tomorrow. Good night, Jungsu,” he says and turns to leave.
“Wait,” Jungsu says and hesitates when he sits up again. “This is ridiculous and all but… could I have that favor right now?”
“Maybe. If it’s something that will make you fall asleep in less than five minutes,” Youngwoon chuckles.
“Here?” Youngwoon confirms, and Jungsu rushes to make room on the bed. Sure, as a double bed it has enough room for the both of them, and Youngwoon definitely doesn’t mind the suggestion at all, but it’s been ages since Jungsu has indicated any kind of yearning for such physical closeness. Youngwoon supposes sleeping alone is another thing two years of military service taught them both.
“Please,” Jungsu asks and arranges the pillows again. “You can have the better one, so your neck won’t hurt in the morning.” Youngwoon won’t admit it aloud, but he’s rather touched by Jungsu still remembering his need for quality pillows.
Suddenly, there’s a pinch of longing in his chest, which is funny because Youngwoon is just about to get what he realizes he’s missed for a long time already. Without a word, he slips between Jungsu’s sheets and settles to his side, closing his eyes and praying for sleep to come quickly because it’s going to be an early morning the next day.
Silence falls into the dark room, and for a moment Youngwoon wonders if Jungsu already fell asleep. Then the silence is disturbed by the ruffle of sheets as Jungsu snakes his arm under Youngwoon’s and wraps it around Youngwoon’s chest. He pulls them closer to each other until they’re pressed tightly together, Jungsu’s chest against Youngwoon’s back, warm and comfortable.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Jungsu mumbles, his voice soft with sleep already.
“I don’t,” Youngwoon whispers back. “Good night, Jungsu.”
Jungsu doesn’t answer anymore, but his hold around Youngwoon’s chest tightens just a little bit, and suddenly everything is just like it used to be.