Mingi can't sleep.

He's under the covers, the stars on his ceiling glowing dimly, and each time he tries to will himself to think a little less, he fails. Over and over again.

And Mingi doesn't like that, because when he starts thinking, he doesn't stop until hours have passed and he's stuck in the eternal prison that is his mind, the voices in his head taking him to some very dark places.

Mingi really fucking hates this, really fucking hates how anxious he is and how his mind won't ever let him rest when he needs it most. He knows the main reason this is happening is because of how Yunho's first day at their school went, because seeing how he got treated made Mingi think of the past and the bullying and dysphoria he experienced, even from his parents.

Shit. Mingi feels hot -- too hot -- like he's in a freaking inferno, and he sits up, each inhale shallow and unstable.

He gets up, shoves his feet into his pikachu slippers, and gets the hell out of the room. The halls are dark and brooding, but Mingi doesn't care to switch on the lights until he gets to the kitchen.

Once the kitchen light is on, he snatches a bottle of water from the fridge and downs it like a motherfucker.

Turns out Mingi drinks a bit too much because his throat then unexpectedly closes up, forcing him to cough roughly into his arm. Fuck, he absolutely fucking hates this. He feels like collapsing, wants to disappear off to god knows where, where no one else will ever find him.

"...Are you alright?"

Mingi stiffens where he stands, shoulders squared in trepidation. The bottle in his hand nearly falls to the floor. Don't tell me this is who I think it is --

Soft footsteps enter the kitchen from the living room, and there Yunho is, his minty green eyes trained on Mingi's frazzled form. He's dressed in a big graphic tee and grey shorts, which showcase just how long and lean his pale legs and thighs are.

Mingi averts his stare before he's caught watching. His grip on the water bottle tightens, embarrassment at having Yunho possibly witnessing his breakdown clogging his veins.

Yunho combs his fingers through his wavy locks. "Is something wrong -- "

"Why are you here?" Mingi cuts in, tone ever so snappy.

"I couldn't sleep," Yunho responds after a moment. He points at the dark living room. "I figured a change of environment could help with that."

"Did it work?" Mingi doesn't know why he asks that.

"Not really," Yunho says, chewing his bottom lip, "because someone went into the kitchen a few minutes later."

Mingi snorts out loud in disbelief, which startles the both of them. Fuck. "I'm gonna head back inside."

"You couldn't sleep too, right?" Yunho confirms, features a perfect mix of concerned and compassionate. "That's why you came to the kitchen."

Mingi puts the bottle back into the fridge, feeling all sorts of awkward. "How is it any of your business?"

Yunho's curved rosy lips press into a thin line, but he doesn't seem to be mad at what Mingi said. "Maybe you cannot sleep because you're full of worries and have a lot of thoughts. I can't too, and maybe...maybe some company is what we both require at the moment."

Mingi can't believe what he's hearing. "Company?"

"Mhm," Yunho nods, fiddling with the ring on his fourth finger. It shines under the light, capturing Mingi's attention. When Yunho notices this, he holds up his hand. "Um, this is Star 1117. It's named after my birth star and uses Ynita's magic to spiritually contact my relatives. It turns gold when I'm contacted by my father and brother."

"It's green right now," Mingi comments, his impulsive nature getting the best of him.

At this, Yunho laughs softly, looking quite shy. "It's never turned gold since I came here."

Oh. Mingi inwardly deflates at the implication, hating how uncomfortable he feels at that moment. It's worse since he isn't the best at cheering people up, always at a loss for words whenever it came to the matters of the heart. "Well, that sucks."

Yunho chuckles, playing around with the ring. His fingers are bony but elegant. "I mean, I also haven't contacted them as well, so I guess we're even."

Mingi totally doesn't expect this, and this is shown by how he chortles right then, the sound rather loud. His neck immediately heats up and he clears his throat, very embarrassed.

Yunho doesn't look bothered by his childish sounding laugh, however. Instead he grins, cheeks round, happy Mingi's now positively receptive to him. And it's a strange sight for Mingi, because Yunho has a particularly charming smile.

It makes the elf look cuter, even, which is vastly different from how regal and untouchable he usually appears.

Cuter? Mingi recoils at the thought. Yunho isn't cute --

"Do you still have difficulties sleeping?" Yunho inquires right then, snapping Mingi back to reality.

He blinks, rubbing his bare elbows. "What?"

Yunho scratches his neck, which tells Mingi he's nervous. It would've been amusing if Mingi's brain wasn't currently going into overdrive as well. "You still can't fall asleep, correct?"

"As you can see."

"Then we should converse," Yunho replies. "At least, until one of us gets tired."

"That doesn't sound very appealing to me," Mingi confesses, not wanting to give in so easily. He doesn't want to give in, period, but he also knows he's a very stubborn individual in general, even when he could use a listening ear right about now.

Yunho cocks his head to the right, taking Mingi's headstrong personality in stride. "How about...whoever sleeps last has to make breakfast for the other person tomorrow."

"Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?" Mingi questions, one brow arched in confusion.

"The goal is to get us to sleep," Yunho says. "So the person who sleeps later technically fails."

"...Sure." Mingi thinks over the elf's proposition. He already can't sleep, and he figures having Yunho as company is better than nothing. He can't text San so late at night anyway as the guy values his eight hours of sleep more than anything. "Okay, I guess."

They don't bother switching on the lights in the living room, both settling down on the opposite sides of the wide couch to rest themselves. It's then Mingi sees the blankets Yunho has spread over his hips, realizing that the taller really must've been battling some insomnia.

For a minute or two, there's nothing but silence and quiet breathing between them. Mingi finds it nice. Peculiar, but nice.

In fact, this entire night has been peculiar so far, because he normally can't spend a second with Yunho without wanting to bash his head against a wall. His head, not Yunho's. He's not a murderous psycho.

Mingi leans his head against the couch, shutting his eyes.

"...Can I ask you a question?" Yunho's voice is tender. Warm.

"No you may not."

Yunho says nothing else, and Mingi softly exhales, wanting to empty his mind.

The silence is broken once more by Yunho. "I really want to ask you something."

Mingi's eyes open, getting annoyed. "Damn. What is it?"

"I want you to know this isn't meant to bother or irritate you," Yunho begins. "Because that isn't my intention in the slightest."

"Geez, how thoughtful of you," Mingi replies, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Yunho doesn't seem to be offended, more than used to Mingi's never-ending comebacks. He quickly continues with his words. "It concerns what happened at school today. What that...boy called you."

Mingi tenses up, suddenly glad the dark mostly hides his features. "What do you wanna ask?"

"He treated you very roughly," Yunho says, his voice now taking on a certain roughness. "But you seemed used to his terribly shitty behaviour. San, too."

Ignoring the fact that it's the first time Mingi has ever heard Yunho curse like that, he sits straight, a lump in throat. His walls build themselves up again brick by brick, creating a tall, lonely tower that protects him from everyone else. And when they're up, he gets crazy defensive.

"It's none of your business," is what Mingi responds with, because that is the truth.

"I'm just worried -- "

"I never asked you to be."

Yunho sighs, sounding exasperated. But Mingi doesn't give a damn, hating how the previously comfortable atmosphere now feels all sorts of stifling.

"I'm sorry for prying," Yunho says after a while, and although Mingi can't really see his face, he can tell he feels a trace of guilt. "I just -- I thought..."

"Thought what?"

"I thought we were friends now."

Mingi feels his walls getting punched into, his lonely tower crumbling a little. He pulls his knees up to his chest and hugs himself close. "What made you think that?"

Yunho gets so quiet that for a moment, Mingi fears he's fallen asleep. But then he hears sheets rustling and knows the elf is just adjusting his position.

"I apologize for thinking wrongly," Yunho eventually says, voice low.

Mingi knows he isn't obligated to reply because Yunho's right, he did think wrongly. They aren't friends, not even acquaintances. But Mingi's lips start moving on their own accord, his words echoing in the hushed air.

"The asshole's name is Kim Jaejun. He's a massive cunt that hates and makes fun of whoever he doesn't consider 'normal'. Whatever that means."

"But, you are normal," Yunho tells him, which Mingi can't help but scoff at.

"Well he definitely doesn't think so," Mingi replies, blowing out a breath. Despite now being seen as a guy a majority of the time, jerks like Kim Jaejun seemed to sniff out that he wasn't an 'ordinary' boy relatively quickly.

"I think he can't be any more wrong."

"Right."

Sheets are being ruffled again, and although Mingi can't see well he just knows Yunho's gotten a little closer. "I mean it, Mingi."

Yunho's definitely closer now, shoulders and arms faintly brushing Mingi's. It's overwhelming and intimate in the weirdest way, but Mingi can't find it in himself to put some distance between them.

"You don't even know me," Mingi soon states matter-of-factly. "You're just an elf prince from god knows where, staying with my aunt and I 'cause you've got nowhere else to go."

"Yes, that is true, but I know you're a much better person than him," Yunho answers, and while he sounds okay for the most part, Mingi has an inkling his words had probably stung. "You're more normal than he is, believe me."

Mingi has no idea how to reply to that, so he doesn't say a thing. Yunho doesn't say anything else either, minutes stretching into over an hour before long.

"...Thanks for keeping me company, I guess," Mingi admits just as he feels his eyelids getting droopy. He's slurring on his words now and probably isn't making a lot of sense.

"You're most welcome, Mingi." Yunho sounds distant, his voice holding a certain melancholic undertone.

As Mingi drifts into a dreamless sleep, blankets are gently wrapped around his form by a pair of hands careful not to disturb him.

• • •

a/n: thoughts?