Sleepless Nights - KyuMin

Kyuhyun clutches the phone to his ear, letting the soft voice roll over him and relax his stiff muscles. Every bone in his body is aching to run downstairs, and he wants to scream but sound can't make it past his throat. The only thing keeping him grounded is Sungmin, whispering into his ear through the telephone.

"Kyuhyun, it's not your fault. Shh, I know it feels that way. But listen to me, okay? Kyu. None of this is your fault. It's their choices, their problems, and none of it was ever you."

The young boy repeats this message to himself, tries to wrap his mind around it. He's shaking under the covers and pressing his tearstained cheek into the sheets. The bed is safe, the bed is warm, but the bed doesn't block out the screaming. His door is closed but it could be wide open for all it does to keep the noises from reaching Kyuhyun's ears. He's sure Sungmin can hear the voices in the backroom, they're that loud.

He licks his lips and grips his pillow tighter to his chest. "It's not my fault," he repeats into the receiver. He knows that his parents' fights are a common thing. He hears them every night after he and his sister go to bed. But the screams are new, they're pain-filled and painful.

He knows Ahra noona can hear them too. He wants to go to her room and comfort her, but he can't seem to make his legs support him and besides, he's only eleven. He doesn't know how to handle it. That's why he's on the phone with his best friend, who's still talking to him in a low, steady voice. "Kyuhyun," he says, "do you want me to come over?"

He can't think of a reason why not, so he tells Sungmin that his room is on the west side of the house on the first floor. Sungmin talks to him the entire time, says he's coming, just stay calm. He doesn't hang up the phone even ten minutes later when he's climbing through the window with ease despite the darkness around him.

Kyuhyun sets the phone down and scoots over on the bed, and the older boy takes that as an invitation to climb into the bed with him. He snaps his mobile phone shut and leaves it on the bedside table before crawling onto the bed, lying down and wrapping an arm around Kyuhyun. He can see the tear tracks on the boy's cheeks reflecting in the dim light from the moon, and his heart aches a little.

Kyuhyun rolls over and presses his face to his friend's chest. He can still hear the screams from the floor below, but they're muffled when Sungmin starts humming softly. It's a ghost of a melody, but it's comforting. His heart starts to slow, and somehow he finds himself feeling drowsy. "Thanks, Ming," he mumbles into the soft cotton pressing against his cheek as he drifts off.

The next morning, Kyuhyun wakes up alone in his bed to the beeping of his alarm clock. His eyelashes stick together and his nose is stuffy, but he slept better than he has in a long time. As he pulls himself out of bed to get ready for school, he wonders when Sungmin left.

As he walks downstairs, his parents and sister are sitting at the table eating breakfast. Ahra stares down at her cereal, pushing the mushy grain around with her spoon. Their father is reading the paper, and their mother stares silently at her hands. She's wearing long sleeves again, even though it's too warm for them in Kyuhyun's opinion, and she tugs them down constantly as if she's afraid of showing the skin underneath.

He and his sister catch the bus to school, and the day proceeds like normal. His classes are boring, and though he excels at most of them, school just doesn't interest him anymore. He can't help but feel like people are staring at the back of his head, and his mind can't focus on the lectures anymore.

When he gets home, his parents are already at it. There's a handprint on his mother's cheek, and puffy eyes give the impression that she's been crying. His father is sitting on the couch glaring at the television with murder in his eyes. Kyuhyun runs upstairs and locks himself in his room. He can't handle this anymore.

One text and ten minutes later, he's wrapped in Sungmin's arms. They're sitting against the wall under the window, farthest away from the door. Sungmin has his iPod and he sticks the headphones in Kyuhyun's ears, hitting the shuffle button. The younger boy relaxes as the sounds of arguments leave his mind and the music takes their place.

Kyuhyun opens his mouth and sings along to the first song. 'Cause if I wanted to go I would've gone by now, but I really need you near me to keep my mind off the edge. Sungmin hums along in harmony, because he knows this song well. The melody swells in the near-empty room, and they pass the time this way until darkness falls.

Sungmin tucks Kyuhyun into bed. At the boy's questioning look, he crawls in alongside him with a soft sigh. "Thanks," Kyuhyun whispers, and that's all Sungmin needs to pull him close and run his fingers through his hair. He'd give anything to protect his best friend.

It takes a while for the younger boy's breathing to even out. Even after he falls asleep, Sungmin lays awake in the bed. He can feel the warm body against his own, and as the yells slip through the crack under the door, he's glad that Kyuhyun can finally sleep. The boy shouldn't have to listen to that.

Sungmin wakes up with the sunrise. It's Saturday, and it occurs to him that his folks will probably be missing him if he hangs around. They've been used to him going out at night since he became a teenager, but they always expect him to be back in the morning. So he retracts his arms from around Kyuhyun and searches around the room for a pen and paper. When he finds some, he scribbles down a note for his friend.

Good morning, sleeping beauty. If you feel like coming around, my room's on the east side of the house on the first floor. My window's open.

He jots down his address below it - just in case it's been forgotten - and leaves the note on the bedside table before slipping out of the room the same way he had come in. He's decided to leave his iPod and headphones with Kyuhyun, in case the boy should need them. Before his father moved out, Sungmin had needed a little music in his life, too.