hold me 𐦍 yeonbin

007 ᯓᡣ𐭩

Soobin dreams of an empty field of bluebells under a starless night sky, and wakes up on the couch to the blaring drumming of a Netflix special about to start. He jolts up and bumps into someone sitting at his feet as a cloud of purple dust settles around him. A frightened pixie stares at him. 

"Good morning," Soobin says. Yeonjun untenses.

"I wanted to watch the polar bears again."

Soobin finds his shirt on the floor and pulls it over his head. 

"Why not watch a new one?" he asks, still catching up to the world around him.

Last night was not a dream. There is a real pixie in his living room watching nature documentaries. 

"There's more than one?"

"There's a lot. Press the back button on the—here, let me." Soobin steals the remote and and selects a new Planet Earth. Yeonjun's eyes are glued to the screen, unblinking, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Did you sleep well?" Soobin asks. 

Soobin didn't. His neck is sore from the angle and his legs cramped from curling up to keep from falling off the couch, but better him than Yeonjun. He deserves a comfortable bed and full night of rest. Only a few hours ago he was bleeding out in the magic store and running around the city dodging cops.

"I'm not good at sleep," Yeonjun says. 

"You're not being graded on how you sleep." Soobin would also be failing if they were. "I meant, were you comfortable? Do you feel rested?"

Yeonjun nods, but Soobin doesn't think he is listening. He is focused on the tree frog on the flatscreen.

Soobin checks his phone. It's noon. Much earlier than he is used to waking up on days he doesn't have class. 

Wait. 

"Shit." Soobin throws his legs off the couch and sits up. 

It's Monday. Soobin did have class. It started half an hour ago.

With a ten minute commute and another five minutes to get ready, he would be able to make it in time for at least the second half of the lecture. 

But, seeing as there is an actual pixie on his couch right now, a real-life pixie with pixie dust and all, leaving for two hours is out of the question. His degree can wait. He promised Yeonjun he would help him get his wings back. 

"You're nervous. Why?" Yeonjun's eyes lock on Soobin, demanding an answer. Pixies aren't patient creatures.

"I'm not nervous."

"But your heart—"

"I'm anxious, not nervous."

Yeonjun narrows his eyes, then turns back to the TV. 

"Same thing," he says. 

Yeonjun will learn. Or, he won't, but it won't be Soobin's responsibility to teach him. Once they find his wings—whatever that entails—Yeonjun can think whatever he wants about humans and it won't be Soobin's problem anymore.