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Thoughts Of You Keep Me Awake At Night
(Insomniac! Yoongi x Roommate! Reader)
Summary: You really try to ignore the less than platonic feelings that you have for your roommate but he hardly makes it easy when he stumbles into your room at three am asking for cuddles
Word Count: 2.1K
Tags: Insomnia, mild Angst, Yoongi x reader, roommate! au, Best friends to lovers, Hurt/comfort, Anxiety mention, Fluff
Authors Note: THIS IS A HAPPY BIRTHDAY PRESENT FOR MY FAVORITE TUMBLR BUT PEACHY 🍑 🍑 🍑 🍑 🍑 @peeachypop HAPPY 23 BIRTHDAY MY DUDE- I had a hard time choosing between Namjoon and Yoongi for you (and then I was like what if I did both Namjoon and Yoongi) but then this came to me in the depths of my jet lag so here you go .｡*ﾟ+.*.｡(❁´◡`❁)｡.｡:+*
ALSO WOW THIS IS A LITTLE AANGSTY JESUS
“Yoongi?” the sound of your bedroom door opening wakes you from your slumber. Not that you really mind; it’s either very late Saturday or early Sunday morning and there is still plenty of time to sleep. Which is why the appearance of your best friend and roommate Yoongi at your bedroom door is even more perplexing.
If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Yoongi, since you first became his friend all those years ago and moved in with him 6 months ago, it’s that the boy loves his sleep. Its one of the many reasons why you mesh well actually; most nights you’d both rather nap then go out. And the majority of the time the idea getting cozy on the couch to keep out the winter chill is a more than agreeable proposition in place of hanging out with each other. Sometimes you watch TV to distress, sometimes you talk, sometimes one of you falls asleep (on his shoulder, or him with his head in your lap) and the other pretends to watch the TV and shoves down the urge to run their hands through the other’s hair.
That’s always how you and Yoongi have been- friends with more than friends feelings for each other.
How well you get along Is one of the many reasons why he asked you to move in with him last summer when he finally decided to move out of the dorms with the boys (Not that he doesn’t still love them- it was just time for him to get his own place).
The lease on your apartment was up- and you where looking at a place on the other side of the city- an abhorrent distance that would make daily hangouts a chore if not non existent (and Yoongi didn’t want to lose you) so he looks at a 2 bedroom place and asks you to move in with him.
you always suspect he hides the actual price of rent from you- because there’s no way what little he asks of you is half the rent. The floor to ceiling windows in the nicer part of town do just a little to win you over, but in the end, it’s the proximity to your best friend that makes you agree.
You both mesh well together. And you’d be lying if you said your mind didn’t occasionally drift to ideas of how well you could get along if you were more than friends. But most of the time you care too much about your friendship to even consider perusing things further. Other times like when he invites you to one of his concerts or when he wears tight leather jackets- you have a harder time reigning in your overly imaginative heart.
Which is why you rub your eyes a second time. Letting out a second quiet “Yoongi- is that you?” when the pale man doesn’t move from the doorway. You clear your eyes leaning in to see him. And you notice his rumpled hair from tossing and turning. His baggy flannel pajamas hang off of him. His puffy eyes are accompanied by dark circles and the dark recess turning like the tide; full of too many emotions that you can’t decipher.
In that moment with you looking up at him- Yoongi knows he shouldn’t be here. Anything that puts your friendship in jeopardy shouldn’t happen. But he can’t bear this right now- and he needs someone- but he doesn’t want just anyone- he needs you.
“Yoongi, have you slept at all?” you ask. And he shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak just yet. You sit up Adjusting the large white tee shirt to not hang off your shoulders.
Occasionally Yoongi has insomnia. He doesn’t tell you much about it, and he’s usually sullen and snappy enough that you leave him alone until you’re sure the episode has passed knowing there’s little you can do to help him. He’s never come to you before like this.
“Do you want me to make you some tea to help you fall asleep?” you offer with a small smile. He shakes his head once, moving a little further into the room.
“Can I sleep with you?” he asks quietly. And it’s not like you both haven’t fallen asleep on each other a million times in front of the TV, but this, sleeping in a bed together, feels more and more like a boundary that shouldn’t be pushed. You inhale a jagged breath- and Yoongi knows what you’re gonna say before you say it.
“Yoongi I don’t know if that’s the best ide-“
“I know we’re just friends but please- I don’t think I can be alone right now and I think I-“ I need someone to hold me he wants to say but the words are caught in his throat and Yoongi can’t finish the sentence. to you his voice usually so controlled sounds raw and untethered. Yoongi certainly looks astray- where he shifts uneasily from foot to foot like he might bolt in a second if you say the wrong thing.
It was so stupid of him to ask this he thinks to himself- he should just go back to his own room before you reject him further. You just rub your eyes blearily for a second- then finally drag back your duvet and scoot over to make a space for him in your bed next to you.
He climbs into bed quickly- worried that you’ll turn him away. Your messed up hair sticks up in tufts, mused from tossing in your sleep. He never thought he’d get to see you like this, but right now the fact that he feels like he’s seconds away from shattering is keeping him from enjoying it. His bare feet are cold against your ankles as you scoot closer to him wrapping an arm around his cold middle. It’s the middle of winter, and the cold presses in with sharp hands.
Normally this wouldn’t be bold, but in the darkness, it feels like it is. Yoongi is suddenly very glad that your eyes are closed- you don’t see him flush as you snuggle closer to his chest.
“Now,” your soft voice says against the fabric of his flannel pajama shirt. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up?” with anyone else the casualness would bother him, piss him off actually, but you make him want to spill all his secrets with just a simple “what’s up.”
Any other time he would lie and say nothing. But the slow treacherous pace of your hands smoothing up and down his back disarm him. “I got anxious,” he says softly. Your hands still on his back- and suddenly you feel wide awake- you’re suddenly aware of the fact that Yoongi is shaking slightly, his hands fisted in the back of your shirt as he trembles.
If there’s one thing you rarely talk about- it’s your emotions. You’re aware that Yoongi has struggled with depression and anxiety but you had no idea that was why he couldn’t sleep sometimes. The condition of your silence seemed imperative on keeping each other just far enough away to discourage romantic feelings. This, by comparison, feels raw and like those boundaries never existed at all.
“What about?” you prod gently, aware that the peace right now is tenuous. The breath he lets out is uneven and uncertain.
“Everything just builds sometimes- stress from writing songs, getting them out on time, making them perfect, being perfect, practice, sometimes I feel like I’m so stressed that the smile’s going to slide right off my face in the middle of a concert or fan sign and I’m going to ruin it all- or I’m going to fuck up the choreography- or be so busy worrying about something else that I forget a line or-“
“Yoongi” you interrupt and he waits for you to tell him that you don’t want to hear it- that you just want to sleep- that he should go because you changed your mind. But you just pull him closer and move your hands up too his hair, running them through the tangled mess and smoothing it down before rubbing your nails up against his skull. The action sends delightful shivers down his back- relaxing him, he stops shaking.
“You’re one of the best performers and producers in the world. I don’t think any amount of mistakes in the world could destroy that. You can’t take away creative talent like that.”
“You think I’m talented?” most day’s Yoongi wouldn’t even question a statement like that- but tonight, with his emotions so raw and His self-esteem teetering on the edge of a depressive low- those words are exactly what he needs to hear.
“Of course I do.” You say softly holding him a little tighter. His feet aren’t cold anymore- and he’s filled the bed with the soft warmness that you get from snuggling another person- something that neither of you has gotten in so long. And on this cold night- it’s exactly what the doctor ordered.
“Sometimes I think I’m too sad to be a rapper- if I’m not feeling normally like everyone else how can they relate to what I’m saying?”
“I think that’s exactly why your lyrics- your writing is so important Yoongi. You give the people a voice who have none.”
“But no one else talks about it.”
“But they should and you’re brave enough too. You have no idea how much I admire you for that Yoongi. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.” In the darkness of your bedroom Wrapped up in your arms. Yoongi feels anything but brave. But your words have done enough to pop his jarred pieces back into place. And right now- that’s enough to make him feel truly steady for the first time in days.
You go quiet as Yoongi pulls you in tighter. Holding onto you like he has no intention of ever letting you go. You listen until his uneven breathing has turned steady- before you finally let yourself drift off as well.
In the morning- when you wake you’re so deliciously warm that immediately you don’t realize what- or more accurately- who you’re currently lying on top of. You’re barely cognizant enough to realize who’s hands are running through your hair and who’s soft voice you hear, barely a grumble in the quiet morning. You feel his voice two fold Once from your ear pressed to his chest- and again as they’re said in the open.
“Sometimes I wonder how you can get me so easily.” he swallows and continues softer. “With other people, it feels like I’m speaking gibberish whenever I talk about my emotions. But you’re the first person who’s ever understood me like this. It makes me want to love you in ways I’m sure you’d be uncomfortable with.”
You fight to make yourself still pliant, to not seize up when you hear the words love- and somehow Yoongi doesn’t notice- though your heart is beating too fast, your breath too loud.
“But I’m ok with just this- I’d be ok with whatever you gave me because you’ll always be enough for me.” His hand never stills on its course- rubbing back and forth over your back and head. And in that moment- you’re so comfortable that you let sleep pull you down again. Your Heart beats erratically with the thought that he loves me he loves me he loves me.
When Yoongi wakes up alone- but he’s a little too warm to think that he’s been alone for long. Your spot next to him is still a little warm. And his chest still flutters with that almost giddy feeling of having you near. He hears soft noises from the kitchen and stumbles out to see you fumbling with his fancy coffee maker (one that Jin bought him ages ago so that he didn’t spend so much money on lattes).
You smile at him- still ruffled in your white shirt and velvet sleep shorts. “Good morning!” You say cheerily, Yoongi grumbles- his words still not working so early, his mind tangled from a few hours of sleep. He twines his arms around your middle and hooks his chin over the side of your shoulder as you continue to fiddle with the steamer.
Yup- the blush that covers your cheeks is totally normal for roommates to have.
“You stole my personal space heater,” he mumbles by way of a good morning. He can hear the smile in your words.
“Sorry- coffee calls” he opens his eyes at that, staring down at the latte you’re working on- there’s another cup next to you that you’ve obviously tried to hide but he can see it clearly now that he can see in front of you.
“Is that? For me?” he asks softly- because sitting there on the counter is a lattee- he can tell by the smell that it’s made just the way he likes. But what makes him flush isn’t that you’ve simply made it for him. It’s the heart drawn in chocolate syrup on the top.
The flush that covers his cheeks is defiantly platonic? Right?
