Work Text:
Seungmin let out a painful groan, forcing his eyelids apart with what felt like herculean effort. The sunlight bounced off the smooth beams of the top bunk and slammed straight into his exhausted eyes—or, rather, eyes that hadn’t gotten any rest at all. He didn’t feel even remotely rested. In fact, he could barely think straight, thanks to the pounding headache splitting his skull in two.
“Awake?” a soft voice murmured, right by his ear.
Seungmin grunted in response, and only then did his brain start catching up with reality: someone else’s warmth, hands, breathing. That wasn’t his roommate Jiseok’s voice checking in on him. That definitely wasn’t Jiseok’s body beside him in bed.
“Good morning, sunshine,” came another voice, this one low and rough, drifting in from the other side of him. Seungmin clung to Gunil’s husky morning tone like a lifeline, desperate not to slip back under.
Wait.
He usually heard those exact words through the thin wall between their rooms. Gunil said them to Jungsu almost every damn morning.
So what the hell was Seungmin doing here?
“Am I dreaming?” he asked cautiously, his tongue clumsy and heavy in his mouth. It was a stupid question, and Jungsu just chuckled softly in response.
No one bothered to confirm whether any of this was real, but Seungmin couldn’t shake the sense that dreams didn’t feel this vivid. The voices, though tinged with sleep, sounded too familiar. The warmth of his hyungs’ hands heated up his chest, too tangible, too present.
His heart kicked into gear, thudding fast, as if trying to catch up to the avalanche of affection crashing over him out of nowhere.
“You came back really late last night,” Jungsu murmured gently, and fragments of the evening began floating to the surface. Seungmin had stayed at the agency until way past midnight, and when he finally stumbled back to the dorms, he’d probably wandered into the wrong room, into their room. “I swear, you’ve got me worrying about you.”
“You’re doing great, but everything needs balance,” Gunil added, his voice somewhere between a scold and a lullaby.
“Mm-hmm,” Seungmin managed weakly, which seemed to satisfy Gunil.
“You didn’t get enough sleep. Close your eyes again, baby.”
Seungmin rubbed his eyes with balled-up fists, like a stubborn kid, still trying to shake himself awake. Another frustrated little groan slipped out. He could tell he was losing this fight.
“But we have… rehearsal at ten, right?” he mumbled, turning his head and pressing his cheek into a soft pillow. Gunil’s face was a blur, but his smile somehow registered loud and clear.
“You’ve got special permission from the leader himself. If I were you, I’d milk it,” Jungsu said with a laugh, scooting in closer.
Seungmin blinked slowly at him through sticky lashes, but even up close, Jungsu was still fuzzy. Didn’t matter. He didn’t need to see. He just needed to feel. Feel the way Jungsu kissed the corner of his mouth, brief and tender, then wrapped both arms around his waist. Feel the way Gunil pressed his lips just below Seungmin’s ear and whispered that the world wouldn’t end if he slept for another hour or two.
Feel the way peace and love quietly poured back into him, steady and sure, as his mind went quiet again, and let him fall asleep all over, cradled in the arms of the ones he loved most.