Chapter Text
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Sanha’s so tired he can barely keep his eyes open. The room’s too warm, and the couch is too soft, and surely there’s no harm in taking a quick nap while they’re waiting, right? Just a few minutes, that’s all he needs…
“Yah.” Rocky’s elbow nudges him gently in the side. “Wake up. Manager-nim will be here soon.”
Blinking hard in an effort to banish the weight of fatigue from his drooping eyelids, Sanha sits up a little straighter on the plush couch.
“Wasn’t sleeping,” he insists, the words only slightly slurred.
Rocky sniffs a grin, nudging him in the side again without glancing up from the game he’s playing on his phone. The dancer’s thumbs are moving across the screen so fast that Sanha’s brain hurts just looking at him – how can the teen possibly still possess the coordination to do that after the day they’ve had?
After successfully completing a somewhat hectic LA KCon schedule these past forty-eight hours, he’s both physically and mentally exhausted, and longing for the peace and quiet of his hotel room upstairs. But their manager had asked them to wait in the conference room on the ground floor of the hotel (a suite that Fantagio had hired in advance so that the staff would have somewhere to set up base-camp away from the hustle and bustle of the KCon venue itself), presumably to discuss details of their schedule for tomorrow before they fly back to Korea in the evening. Which would’ve been okay (hyung-nim normally tries to keep post-event briefings fairly short so that they can rest), if not for the fact that their manger has since become unexpectedly detained elsewhere in the hotel.
Now Sanha’s left desperately fighting sleep, gradually slipping further and further down in his seat on one of the couches near the back of the conference room, longing to rub at his itching eyes but reluctant to smudge his makeup with some of the stylist noonas sitting nearby (even though he’ll be taking it off as soon as he reaches his hotel room, it just seems rude to ruin all their hard work right in front of them).
A hand suddenly settles on the back of his neck, and Sanha sucks in a startled breath, opening his eyes quickly (not that he can remember having closed them).
“I think it’s past someone’s bedtime,” Jinwoo remarks with quiet amusement, perching on the arm of the couch beside him and squeezing the teen’s nape as Sanha blinks up at the rapper blearily. “You look about ready to pass out, kiddo.”
Sanha lists sideways with a tired groan to lean against his hyung. “Manager-nim said he’d only be five minutes. Where is he?”
“Busy making arrangements for tomorrow,” JinJin tells him patiently. “I heard a rumour that we might be allowed to play tourists for a little while before we leave for the airport.”
The teenager perks up at that. He’s never been to America before, and the prospect of getting to see a little more of LA before they head home excites him (as much as anything can when he feels half-dead).
“Really?”
“Mm.” Jinwoo nods, and reaches up to ruffle Sanha’s curls. “And if you want to go exploring tomorrow, you’ll need a decent night’s sleep. Seriously, Sanha, I’m tired just looking at you. Go to bed already.”
“But…but manager-nim told us to-”
“I know.” Astro’s leader smiles a little, holding up a silencing hand. “I’ll explain things to hyung when he gets back. Don’t worry, you won’t get into trouble."
A thin, black key-card is pressed into Sanha’s palm.
“Head on up to our room,” Jinwoo murmurs. “I’ll come join you as soon as hyung’s finished briefing us. Remember to wash your face, okay? You know how sensitive your skin gets.”
Sanha would roll his eyes at the familiar fussing, but he’s honestly too tired to expend the necessary energy (that, and in truth, he doesn’t really mind being babied by the others). So instead he just nods, bidding the two rappers either side of him a sleepy goodnight and waving to Binnie and Eunwoo who are curled up together in an armchair a short distance away. MJ’s filming a self-cam for a new DDOCA over in the far corner, so he decides not to interrupt the singer mid-flow (he’ll see the man soon enough anyway, since both Jinwoo and MJ are sharing a room with him) and instead ducks out of the conference room before the leader changes his mind and decides he needs to stay up and wait for their manager. He’s not about to pass up on the opportunity to crawl into bed a little earlier than planned, not when he’s already asleep on his feet.
Despite his fatigue, he chooses to forego the elevator in favour of taking the stairs. It’s not that he doesn’t trust American technology, but he’s never been a big fan of elevators anyway (too many late-night horror film marathons with Rocky during their trainee days), especially if he’s riding on his own. He doesn’t feel quite so trapped on a staircase, so even if it’ll make his tired legs ache even more, it’ll be worth it in the long run.
It’s not like their rooms are on the fifteenth floor or anything like that. He only has to go up to the third floor…or maybe the fourth? One or the other, anyway. No problem.
…
He’s not lost. Nope. He’s just…taking a more scenic route.
Seriously, though, who the hell thought that designing all the corridors in this hotel to look almost exactly the same was a good idea? It feels like he’s been wandering around for hours now, and he still can’t find his hotel room. Sanha knows there’s a painting of a city landscape on the wall opposite the door to their suite, but it hasn’t turned up yet – hell, he isn’t even sure he’s looking on the right level. He’s currently on the fifth floor (his extensive search of the fourth and third floors had been unsuccessful), but he’s so tired that there’s a good chance he’s already walked past the damn painting twice without realising it.
“Stupid,” he mutters vehemently, scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the carpet in frustration.
Sanha’s so exhausted that it’s tempting just to stretch out along the floor and go to sleep right here and now. He can’t keep going much longer. And although it’s gonna be super humiliating to go back downstairs and admit to the others that he can’t find his room (aish, Binnie and Rocky are gonna tease him about it forever), that seems to be his best option at the moment. If he keeps searching for much longer, manager-nim will have already finished talking to the others and then Jinwoo will come upstairs to find their suite unoccupied, and he doesn’t even want to think about what kind of hell will break loose if that happens.
Aigoo. Jinwoo won’t let him go anywhere on his own again, ever.
Sanha’s so caught up in imagining the look of panic on JinJin and MJ’s faces that he fails to notice that his shoelaces have come undone until it’s too late. He turns a corner in the corridor and suddenly lurches forwards as one of the laces gets caught beneath the opposite shoe. He takes an awkward, stumbling step to compensate and keep from overbalancing, but his ankle turns beneath the weight of him and he drops like a sack of potatoes.
Pain lances through the joint as Sanha crumples to the floor with a surprised yelp, catching himself on his arms (thankfully before he manages to concuss himself against the wall on top of everything else) and remaining there motionless for a moment, the shock of the injury having woken him fully from his previous state of mobile slumber.
“Oww,” he whines as the fierceness of the pain finally registers, rolling over slowly to sit up against the wall of the corridor and reaching down to clutch at his throbbing ankle. “Aish, really?”
Apparently this hotel hates him.
The pain abates after a few moments, so he braces his weight on his good foot and uses the wall to pull himself up, rotating his injured ankle a couple of times before tentatively taking a step forward. The joint buckles immediately with a sharper twang of pain that has him biting back a stream of curses, and he slumps back against the wall and slides down to sit on the floor again.
Jaenjang, it hurts. Like, really really hurts.
Hot, frustrated tears blur his vision, and he presses the heels of his hands against his eyes in an attempt to keep them at bay. He’s just so tired, and all he wants to do is curl up in a nice, soft bed and sleep for a week, but no, instead he’s lost in this stupid hotel in a foreign country in the middle of the night with no way to contact his hyungs and a stupid sprained ankle.
It’s not fair.
The teenager’s so thoroughly preoccupied with feeling extremely sorry for himself that he doesn’t hear footsteps approaching along the corridor until a tall figure suddenly appears from around the corner. A boot collides (with some significant force) against Sanha’s knee where his legs are stretched out in front of him, and he startles with a pained yelp.
“Aigoo, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you!” his attacker hurries to say, and Sanha’s heart shoots up into his throat because dear God above, he knows that voice.
Glancing up sharply from his throbbing knee, the teenager’s eyes widen significantly when he sees Jeon Jungkook of BTS peering back at him in guilt and concern.
Even if they hadn’t danced onstage together earlier today, Sanha would’ve recognised the other singer immediately. Everyone in the industry knows BTS, rookie idols most of all – the sunbae group had gained popularity at an accelerated rate these past few years, and they’re the sort of well-oiled machine that every newly-debuted group aspire to be. Not to mention Astro had covered half a dozen of their dance performances during their promo tour, and before that, even, when they’d still been doing iTeen trainee stages at various public events.
Suddenly Jungkook’s crouching down beside him, bringing their gazes more to a level, and the older singer settles a gentle hand on the younger makane’s shoulder.
“Hi,” he greets softly. “It’s Sanha, right?”
The teenager nods dumbly, trying not to make it too obvious just how much he’s freaking out internally. He can’t pull off the cool-and-calm vibe the same way that Rocky can, but he doesn’t want to look like a total weirdo either.
Training aside, Sanha himself has been a big fan of BTS for years now (not as big a fan as Binnie, perhaps, but that would be difficult given how religiously the dancer follows their broadcasts). Astro and BTS have even met on a few occasions backstage these past couple of days, very briefly in between their various stage shows and fansign events, but there hadn’t been time to exchange much beyond a polite “pleased to meet you” and “let’s all do our best”. To find himself now essentially nose-to-nose with one of his role models (and without his hyungs there to provide moral support) leaves Sanha feeling more than a little starstruck.
And holy ramen soup, he’s gone and sent the man flying straight off the bat. Stupid Sanha.
“J-Jungkook sunbae-nim,” he stutters, his heart fluttering far too rapidly in his chest as he hurries to apologise. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to trip you, I swear, it was an accident-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook reassures, and smiles nervously in a way that makes Sanha relax a little – it seems he’s not the only one who feels out-of-depth when it comes to meeting fellow idols. “And besides, I’m really the one who should be apologising for kicking you like that. Aigoo, did I hurt you?”
Sanha tries to reassure the older singer that he’s fine, but Jungkook seems to buy that about as much as JinJin and Eunwoo tend to – that is to say, not at all.
Gently prying the teenager’s hands out of the way, the older maknae inspects Sanha’s knee with a critical eye, wincing at the redness already swelling there. It’ll probably be a lovely shade of blue by tomorrow (he seriously bruises like a peach), and he’ll have to avoid wearing shorts until it’s faded, which won’t go down well with the stylist noonas at all. But Jungkook is already looking guilty, his brow creasing in an uncertain frown, and Sanha hates to see that look on anyone’s face. And especially since he was the one to trip the older singer in the first place.
“It doesn’t even hurt that much,” he tries to insist. “And anyway, it was my fault for being in your way, sunbae-nim.”
Unfortunately, that happens to be the exact moment Jungkook chooses to probe the swelling with his fingertips. Sanha can’t help flinching at the sharp ache that flares up in response to the pressure.
“Sorry,” Jungkook murmurs, patting just above his knee as he smiles in apology. “And call me ‘hyung’, okay?”
Sanha blinks at him, startled by the offer so soon after becoming acquainted, feeling a surge of hope in his chest. “Really?”
“Mm.” The older maknae nods with a more genuine smile, and something in Sanha’s stomach flutters. “Now, about your knee – do you think you can stand on it?”
The teenager glances down at his injured leg, and feels his ankle give a warning twinge as though punishing him for daring to even think about putting weight on it. He shakes his head with a forlorn sigh.
“I…I don’t think so, hyung.”
“Really?” Jungkook’s expression freezes, something like panic flickering across his features before he schools it quickly. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” Sanha pouts down at the offending joint. “I think I sprained my ankle.”
“But…I kicked you in the knee, right?” Jungkook ascertains, sounding faintly confused.
“Hm?” the younger maknae blinks at the hyung blankly for half a beat, then feels his cheeks heat as he realises that he must be making, like, zero sense to the sunbae idol. “Oh, sorry, um…I meant from before. I…I was trying to find my way back to our room, but I kinda tripped over my shoelaces.”
“Ah.” The corner of Jungkook’s lips twitch up, just a little, but he doesn’t outright laugh at Sanha’s misfortune, which the youth greatly appreciates (his pride is already in tatters tonight). “I guess that explains why you’re sitting in the middle of the corridor at one o’clock in the morning, huh?”
“Eh?” Panic lances through Sanha’s chest like a piercing icicle, and he feels his eyes widen in alarm. “Is it that late already? Oh my god, oh my god, MJ-hyung is going to kill me…”
A strong arm circles around his shoulders, and Sanha finds himself being hugged by none other than Jeon Jungkook of BTS. His initial reaction (purely shock-induced) is to blush beetroot-red and tense up, but it takes less than a split second for him to relax again into the sideways embrace. Sanha likes skinship, and Sanha likes Jungkook, and as it turns out the sunbae idol gives really nice hugs.
“If you explain what happened, I’m sure they’ll understand,” the man reasons confidently. “We all have accidents; it isn’t your fault you got hurt.”
Sanha smiles shyly, cheeks still pulsing with heat (it’s a good thing he didn’t take off his makeup earlier, hopefully he doesn’t look too red), and Jungkook returns it before pushing himself to his feet.
“If I help you up, do you think you’ll be able to stand?” he asks, reaching down to offer Sanha a hand. The teenager nods, grasping the man’s palm. “Awesome. On three, okay?”
By some miracle, Sanha manages to heave himself upright without injuring himself (or Jungkook) in the process. He stands on his good foot, wincing as he slowly rotates his aching ankle.
“Don’t,” Jungkook cautions when he notices the movement, pulling one of Sanha’s arms across his shoulders to help balance out his weight. “Don’t try to move it too much. You’ll need to ice it first or the swelling won’t go down. How far is it to your room?”
Sanha fidgets awkwardly and averts his gaze. “Um…I don’t actually know. I’m sort of lost?”
When he glances up after a brief moment of silence and sees Jungkook’s expression of poorly-veiled incredulity, Sanha does what he should never, ever do and lets his emotions take control of his mouth.
Before his brain has a chance to process the humiliating story that’s tumbling from his lips at lightning speed, he’s gone and told Jungkook everything, from being too tired to wait for their manager to being too scared to use the elevator on his own (oh god, just kill me now), to forgetting which floor his room was supposed to be on and then wandering around for ages hoping that he might just stumble across the right door and then tripping over his stupid shoelaces and-
Mortified, he physically clamps a hand over his mouth to put a stop to the frustrated tirade, flushing so hot it’s a miracle his head doesn’t burst into flames, staring up at Jungkook wide-eyed.
“Aish. Sounds like you’ve had a rough night,” Jungkook sympathises, and although there’s a hint of amusement in his smile, the expression overall is a kind one. “Hey, tell you what – my room’s just at the end of the next corridor, it’s not far. You should come and hang out with me and the guys for a little while until we work out where you’re supposed to be. Okay?”
Holy. Freaking. Ramen.
Clamping down on his immediate instinct to screech in excitement (his usual go-to reaction for any situation that registers above ‘mildly interesting’), Sanha manages to restrain himself to an eager nod and a wide, beaming smile.
“Okay, hyung.”
Binnie is gonna be soooo jealous when he finds out.
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