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It was true that Jiseok wanted to be busy this year, but these days, he could just never seem to get enough sleep.
This was the busiest of busy seasons, he supposed—between his new MC gig and album preparations and jetting here and there for the second leg of their tour, he had a lot on his mind, a lot on his schedule, and a lot on his shoulders.
And then he’d gone and caught a cold. Just a minor one—a cough and some sniffles—but a cold was a cold and it made everything else just that little bit harder; hard enough to be twice as exhausting when it already had him falling boneless into bed every night.
“Jiseok! Come on, we’re leaving in five minutes!”
Jiseok tried to groan his disapproval, but it was barely a squeak that escaped him as he pushed his face further into the pillow. His sleep-addled, sleep-famished, desperate-for-more-sleep mind failed to parse the urgency of the words “leaving in five minutes”. But he wasn’t given a chance to sink back into oblivion before the whole bunk tremored, a pair of arms clamped around his waist, and he was pried away from his mattress with a pathetic whimper.
“What time did you go to sleep? Are you still sick?” Jungsu asked, setting his feet on the floor. Jiseok must have blinked because he couldn’t recall how they’d gotten down from the top bunk. “Did you pick out your outfit last night? You finished packing, right?”
“Uh,” Jiseok rubbed his bleary eyes, not sure which question to answer first, or how. He didn’t really know what time he’d finally gotten to sleep, but it would have been earlier if not for the fact that, right as he was about to climb into his bunk, he’d realised that he hadn’t packed. Not that he was someone who took long to pack, especially since they’d only be gone for a couple of days, but he’d already been so worn out from a full-on day that it’d felt like the worst thing to ever happen to him.
This, he thought, was even worse. Every cell in his body ached with the desire—the need—to go back to sleep. His cold, for a mercy, had at least faded to an ignorable itch in his throat and bothersome but inconsequential congestion.
And no, he hadn’t picked out an airport outfit. In the end, he put on whatever Jungsu tossed at him and then let himself be bustled out into the living room where the others were all ready to go.
Even Jooyeon was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, snickering when Jungsu nudged Jiseok his way so he himself could go do whatever else he needed to do. “Nice bedhead. You look like a grumpy kitten.”
Jiseok swatted his arm, but it was all paw and no claw. Jooyeon just giggled again and looped his arms around Jiseok’s shoulders. He kept them there as the manager ushered them down to the street and into the car, pulling Jiseok into the backseat with him.
“Here, we can be each other’s pillow on the drive.”
“Best idea you’ve had all day,” Jiseok sighed, settling his head on Jooyeon’s bony shoulder.
“I think that’s the first full sentence you’ve said all day,” Jooyeon remarked. He smoothed Jiseok’s hair down with his hand before resting his cheek on the crown of his head.
“Shh, pillows aren’t supposed to talk,” Jiseok whispered.
He felt Jooyeon’s chest judder with silent laughter, but he said no more, and between Jooyeon’s warmth and the movement of the car, Jiseok sank into sleep again within seconds.
It also seemed like mere seconds later that he was being nudged awake again, but at least his eyes opened on the first try this time.
Once they’d bowed and smiled their way through the fans in the airport foyer and cleared security, they had some time to kill before their plane took off. They started by wandering around duty-free, due in part to Gunil realising that he’d forgotten to pack toothpaste and Hyeongjun and Seungmin wanting to look around anyway.
Jiseok lagged behind the group. He usually didn’t mind the opportunity to stock up on tax-free toiletries or even just to joke around with Jooyeon about whatever they came across, but his heart just wasn’t in it today, and his mind felt like a piece of glass that had been dragged across coarse concrete until it was scratched and clouded. Even if he was a little more awake now, he was still so tired.
It was after the third not-so-surreptitious cough into his elbow that Jungsu sidled up to him with a concerned frown. “You still look like you just woke up. Will you even be able to get through this show tomorrow?”
“I’ll be fine,” Jiseok insisted, unhelpfully punctuating his words with a reflexive sniff. “I’ll sleep ten hours once we get to the hotel and then I’ll be good to go.”
It would be nice to sleep on the plane, but Jiseok had never been able to do that—the heavy white noise and the weird pressure in his ears made it impossible. So he was basically consigned to wakefulness until they got to their rooms in Taipei.
Jungsu pursed his lips, then looped an arm through Jiseok’s and dragged him over to where the manager was poking through a stand of neck pillows. “Is it okay if we go ahead to the lounge?” he asked.
Jooyeon’s head appeared over the top of a nearby Squishmallow display. “Oh, I want to come, too!”
The manager shrugged and approved, so they left Gunil, Seungmin, and Hyeongjun to their shopping and made their way to the private lounge, snagging a pair of couches by a window overlooking the tarmac. Jungsu sat down on the end of one and patted the spot next to him. “We’ve got about an hour until departure. You can get some sleep in that time, right?”
A confusing mixture of gratitude and guilt squeezed Jiseok’s heart. He couldn’t stand others worrying about him, but sometimes it just felt so good to be cared for.
Rather than speaking, Jiseok nodded and rendered himself horizontal on the couch, laying his head in Jungsu’s lap. It still wasn’t as comfortable as his pillow, but it was softer than Jooyeon’s shoulder. And even softer when Jungsu’s hand, as if by magnetic compulsion, started to comb through Jiseok’s hair.
Jiseok exhaled through his nose and let his eyelids flutter closed.
Never one to let his presence be forgotten, Jooyeon let out a vocal sigh. “Where am I supposed to sit?”
“There’s a couch right behind you,” said Jungsu.
“But when the others get here, they’ll want to sit down, and if there’s six of us, that’s three to a couch, and I don’t intend to move once I settle in. I want to sleep, too.”
“Then sleep there!” Jungsu exclaimed.
“Nah, I have a better idea,” said Jooyeon.
Jiseok was trying his very best to ignore them, but it was hard to ignore Jooyeon clambering over his legs to squish himself between Jiseok and the back of the couch. Jiseok might have felt at risk of falling off if Jooyeon didn’t have the foresight (could it be called that?) to twine his arms around his waist like a seatbelt.
“You were not invited!” Jungsu protested as Jooyeon slithered up like a snake and snuck his head into Jungsu’s lap next to Jiseok’s.
“Hyung,” said Jooyeon, breath tickling the back of Jiseok’s neck, an obvious pout in his voice. “Don’t play favourites.”
Jungsu scoffed. “As if you’re one to talk about playing favourites!”
Jiseok honestly couldn’t say he minded the intrusion—the lounge’s air-con was running a bit cold, and Jooyeon’s warmth around him was welcome, comforting, familiar.
“Don’t fight over me,” he sighed. “Just be quiet and let me sleep.”
“Yeah, Hyung. Let us sleep,” said Jooyeon, giving Jiseok a gentle squeeze.
“I’m not gonna be able to feel my leg later,” Jungsu muttered, but he made no effort to extricate himself.
They quickly settled into a peaceful quiet. With Jungsu as a pillow and Jooyeon as a blanket, Jiseok swiftly dropped off into a much-needed nap. And though it wouldn’t be a long rest, and though he would wake with a blocked nose and a stiff neck, and though he’d spend the entire flight to Taiwan trying and failing to sleep again, he would at least be left with the lingering, terrifying, exhilarating, addictive feeling of being loved.
And that was what made everything worth it.