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Hoseok’s staring at his laptop screen, blank word document staring back at him. He has a full essay outline sitting next to him and can’t seem to get himself started, eyes burning. The paper’s not due for another week, and while Hoseok could just worry about it later, he also has three upcoming midterms and another paper. Per usual, his professors had conspired against the entire student body of the psychology department, and apparently his Equity Studies prof had gotten the memo, too.

He glances at the time, and it’s already one in the morning. Reasonably he could last for another two, his morning class not until ten am. That would give him a solid six hours at least except he still hadn’t done any of the readings for his class, and god.

Hoseok rubs sleep out of his eyes, groaning and stretching at the same time. Okay, you can do this, he tells himself, readying his fingers to type. He gets about two sentences down before rolling his eyes and deleting them, frustration welling up.

He almost shoves his laptop aside, tired from dance practise and two back to back classes and the four hour shift he put in early in the morning at the tutoring center.

“You can wake up early and work on it,” a voice tells him from behind and Hoseok would have jumped out of his skin if he wasn’t already used to Yoongi walking about in the dead of the night, as silent as a fox.

“I have to read two chapters for physio,” Hoseok explains, strung up in a way he distinctly hates. Agitation annoys him, and being annoyed agitates him and it all just builds up right at the base of his neck.

“Seokjin gave you his notes, you can look them over before class, you nerd,” Yoongi tells him, sinking down next to Hoseok on the floor. He’s made a little nest for himself by the coffee table, shit scattered everywhere.

Hoseok makes a sad, whiny sound right in the back of his throat, head falling against Yoongi’s shoulder. “Why is everything so hard?”

“It wouldn’t be worth it otherwise,” Yoongi says, hand finding Hoseok’s until he has his fingers laced through. He’s cold, he’s always cold and Hoseok sighs, shoulders sagging.

“Did I wake you?” he asks quietly, feeling a little bad. He hadn’t thought he was being loud.

“Nah,” Yoongi soothes, Hoseok’s outline in hand. “You know you’re only having trouble because you’re tired.”

“I know,” Hoseok sniffs, but he didn’t like admitting defeat.

“Then we’re going to bed,” Yoongi declares and he doesn’t really give Hoseok the chance to argue, closing Hoseok’s laptop and throwing the outline on top. “You’re gonna wake up early anyways.”

“We don’t all need twenty hours of beauty sleep,” Hoseok drawls, allowing Yoongi to pull him up.

“No wonder I’m prettier than you,” Yoongi smirks, laughing when Hoseok’s mouth falls open. He presses a kiss to Hoseok’s cheek a second after, grinning. “But you’re pretty good to look at, too.”

“I’m beautiful,” Hoseok stresses, huffing indignantly.

“Mmhmm,” Yoongi hums solemnly, and Hoseok’s shoulders aren’t as tense anymore, the ache in his lower back dulling out. Yoongi does make everything better.

Hoseok lets Yoongi pull him to their room, the one bedroom apartment they moved into a little cramped but Hoseok doesn’t mind sharing space with Yoongi, not when Yoongi feels like soaking in a hot bath. Their bed’s a mess of tangled sheets, a little on the small size as well, but Hoseok clings in his sleep and somehow Yoongi’s come around to accepting that, too.

“You know, I love you,” Hoseok murmurs, hands circling around Yoongi’s waist. Yoongi snorts, but his hands fall on Hoseok’s all the same, squeezing tight.

“You only tell me every hour,” Yoongi drawls, but he turns around in Hoseok’s arms, arms snaking around Hoseok’s neck. Hoseok closes the gap, kissing Yoongi sweetly, taking his time. Hoseok thinks he likes kissing best, likes how Yoongi’s mouth is so soft and pliant, so giving. Belatedly, Hoseok notes how Yoongi still tastes like the coffee he was sipping before bed and he hopes he tastes as nice.

“You’re so gross,” Yoongi mumbles into Hoseok’s mouth, tongue swiping along Hoseok’s lower lip as he dives back in. “But I love you, too.”

The words make Hoseok’s heart flutter, warmth seeping into him slowly, like he’s been left out in the sun. “I love you more,” Hoseok insists, waiting for Yoongi’s response.

“You wanna bet?” Yoongi challenges, eyebrow quirked up and he looks pretty even like this, hair a mess, eyes sleepy and quiet. Content.

“Later,” Hoseok replies, and Yoongi chuckles, kisses Hoseok once more before pulling away. He shuffles them the rest of the way to the bed, breaking Hoseok’s hold around Yoongi’s waist before sliding in under the sheets. Hoseok crawls in beside him, immediately curling up into Yoongi’s side. Yoongi tucks his chin over Hoseok’s head, lets Hoseok use his arm as a pillow.

“Sleep tight,” Yoongi whispers, bringing the blanket up higher over them.

“I’ll dream of you,” Hoseok says, laughing when Yoongi pretends to barf. “Dream of me, too, okay?”

After a pause and roll of the eyes, Yoongi smiles, “Okay.”