Archive of Our Own ^beta

Junghoon blinks sluggishly, slowly taking notice of his surroundings as the remnants of sleep leave him. The first thing he notices is the shitty position he’s laying in – he’s in the middle of his bed, with one leg dangling out and no pillow under his head, his back and shoulders throbbing as a result. The second is the overhead light of his bedroom shining down on him, flooding his senses. The third and most important is the excruciating feeling of fabric against his skin.

He closes his eyes again and throws an arm over them for good measure, heaving a sigh.

He can already tell what happened by the three previous clues alone: he came back from therapy exhausted, turned on the lights and had to sit down to take his clothes off, since his legs were giving him trouble. With how tired he felt, the sitting turned into lying, and suddenly he was curled up in bed wearing scratchy jeans and a shirt that wasn’t made for sleeping, dozing off like there wasn’t a bright light gleaming directly above him.

Junghoon stays put for a minute or two, preparing to move his heavy, sleep-addled body. With another sigh and a bit of a struggle, he maneuvers himself into a sitting position. His phone is posed right next to him, and though he wishes to look at the time to know just how many hours he wasted in such an uncomfortable sleep – as opposed to the good one he’d have had if he managed to follow through with his night routine, he ultimately ignores it. He’ll spare himself the anxiety for now.

He climbs out of his bed and changes into comfortable pajamas – his favorite pair, really, since they’re mint, already breathing better now that his skin isn’t being harassed by awful fabric. Next, he turns off the overhead light in favor of his bedside lamp, which bathes his bedroom in a warm glow that doesn’t hurt his eyes.

Junghoon leaves his room carefully, keeping his footsteps light in case his mother is still awake and he needs to turn around. Sometimes she sits quietly in the living room, hidden from view and not making a sound, lulling him into a false sense of security so she can catch him once he leaves his room under the assumption she’s not there. Over the years he’s gotten better at figuring out when she’s doing that, but better yet, he’s gotten good at suppressing his hunger. He’d rather starve than cross the kitchen and risk facing her.

He cranes his neck to catch sight of her bedroom door, and when he sees it’s closed, the tension in his spine melts away. She’s asleep. Junghoon can breathe now.

He grabs a tall glass of water from the fridge and drinks the whole thing down in one go, appreciating the cold burn in his throat. He hadn’t noticed of how his tongue felt coated in sand before, not until the feeling dissipated.

It felt good to drink water, but he didn’t quite like how the liquid reached his empty stomach.

Cooking this late – and this tired – was out of question, so Junghoon just munchs on some string cheese he finds on the fridge and treads back to his room.

He lays down – his head now resting on a pillow –  and finally reaches for his phone.

To his surprise, it’s only a little past one in the morning. That being the case, surely he can spare a few minutes to check his notifications.

(Junghoon spots the app he was hoping to see on the notification bar and ignores everything else. It’s never about “checking” anything, though admitting to that would mean he got attached. Which he didn’t. He’s not.)

minthoon has logged on

hyuwu: so i just asked them to change schools

hyuwu: and they agreed somehow

susutd: ur autism was too powerful

susutd: mine dont care about what i do

susutd: my dad forgets i paint and acts surprised every time i ask for any supplies

susutd: pisses me off lol

hyuwu: not like you have been painting since you were ten or anything

hyuwu: also not like you’re in an art club or whatever

susutd: right

susutd: hi hoon

minthoon: hi

hyuwu: we’re having a late night talk about vaguely and not-so-vaguely shitty parenting

hyuwu: care to join?

minthoon: no

hyuwu: that’s alright

minthoon: i hate my mom.

hyuwu: oh

hyuwu: that’s fine too

susutd: ^

hyuwu: i don’t hate my parents

hyuwu: but i resent them a little i guess

hyuwu: i think they could’ve done better in some areas  ?

susutd: hardest part of neglect is coming to terms it happened

hyuwu: no i mean

hyuwu: they weren’t neglectful

minthoon: yes, they were

hyuwu: no

minthoon: yes

hyuwu: i would know

minthoon: @susutd: hardest part of neglect is coming to terms it happened

susutd: u have jay levels of denial

susutd: u wouldnt know

hyuwu: wow

hyuwu: that was too far

hyuwu: JAY levels of denial??

minthoon: yes

minthoon: about your parents

hyuwu: ok at least it’s only in one aspect of my life

hyuwu: and not like

hyuwu: all of them. which is how j lives

susutd: LOL

Junghoon can neither confirm nor deny that he spent the next hour talking to the other two, but his messed-up sleep schedule the day after speaks for itself. When he falls asleep, it’s in the same curled up position as a few hours prior, except with comfortable clothes on, a pillow and a blanket, and a satisfied feeling in his chest that only seems to come when he talks to the people in the group chat.