Wonwoo curls his fingers first instead of opening his eyes because opening his eyes means the day officially starts and the bed is so, so warm and comfortable that he doesn't want that to happen. So he grips the thin cotton shirt a little harder, pulling Mingyu's pliant body flush against his chest as he rests his chin on the taller boy's head. At first Wonwoo found it a little odd, if not endearing, how Mingyu would want to be the smaller spoon when they cuddled. And really, it's not like Wonwoo meant to cuddle Mingyu, it just sort of happened when they started sleeping on the beds again. Literally no one was surprised to find out they chose to share a bed together.

A small sigh escapes Mingyu's lips and it brings Wonwoo right back to when he first woke up to hugging his dongsaeng. Back then it was awkward, even though they were close they were never that close in a very literal sense, and they even argued who reached out for who first (Wonwoo knew it was him who initiated it but he had to save face). By the fifth time it happened though, they accepted it for what it was.

What exactly was it? Wonwoo wasn't entirely sure, still isn't, but he's bad with putting labels on things—especially his feelings. Plus, it's still early in the morning and his head's still a little fuzzy and god, why is Mingyu so warm?

The blankets shift and Wonwoo can hear the shuffling of feat from outside their bedroom door. Mingyu mumbles something; Wonwoo assumes the younger is finally awake unless he's talking in his sleep. “Cold,” is the only word he's able to make out as Mingyu twists in his loose grasp, letting the younger rub his head against his chest. The mumbling, which, miraculously through his sleep-dazed mind, Wonwoo identifies as Chinese, eventually stops followed by another door being open and shut. It can only be the China-line, because no one wakes up as early as them; out to get food. They always eat breakfast together, not even bothering to offer the members if they want to come or not, and if Wonwoo wasn't so tired from practice yesterday he might find that a little suspicious. But he is and so he ignores whatever is-slash-might-be going on with the two Chinese dancers.

Mingyu stills again, his fingers toying with the hem of Wonwoo's shirt and it's safe to assume the rapper is very much awake.

Slowly, Wonwoo opens his eyes, wincing from the sudden onslaught of light, until he focuses in on the other bunk-bed across the room, both beds vacant. It's not really odd for the members to wake up with less or more people in the room than when they started with. A lot of them shared beds despite there being enough for all of them.

Lazily threading his fingers through Mingyu's hair, Wonwoo let's out a low grumble of disapproval as the younger gently pushes himself away so that they're face-to-face. Mingyu retracts his arm (even after all this time he still blushes at the contact) but Wonwoo, surprisingly stubborn in the morning, keeps his grip on Mingyu's waist.

The morning sun masks Mingyu's skin in a soft, radiant hue that has Wonwoo's stomach churning and heart pounding. He tries not to focus too hard on the feeling, his head still swimming in a post-dream fog.

The silence is intense but not necessarily awkward. Mingyu stares and looks away, repeating the routine until Wonwoo lightly flicks his ear.

Much like the oversized puppy he is, Mingyu whines and pouts, body moving along. “Hyung,” he whines with a hoarse voice, “that hurt.” At this Wonwoo lightly kicks him from under the heavy duvet. How Mingyu could still be cold is beyond him. If anything the room is much too humid for his liking.

Mingyu says something but Wonwoo misses it, but knowing the kid it's probably something about getting food. Wonwoo's much too busy admiring Mingyu, however; to even think about his empty stomach. The boy's just unfairly pretty with his droopy eyes and sleepy grin.

Again, Wonwoo tries not to focus too much on what he's feeling.

“Stop staring at me,” Mingyu whines again, covering his face with his hands but Wonwoo can still see the grin the teen is wearing.

What Wonwoo says next though, is a shock for both of them. “It's because you're too pretty.” The words spill out so easily Wonwoo wonders if his lips were just waiting for a chance for his brain to let its guard down in order to say that. Mingyu blushes ferociously, bottom lip caught between his sharp teeth. Suddenly, breathing feels more like inhaling thick syrup. Wonwoo complements Mingyu a lot, mostly on his smile, it's nothing new, but calling Mingyu pretty, that—that was new. It shocks Wonwoo more than Mingyu though, because he's usually so careful with his words, biting his tongue and sometimes refraining from talking.

He blames the slip up on his still half-asleep mind (Mingyu does look really nice though with that bed-head hair and wide dewy eyes).

Mingyu just laughs though, throaty and light, as his blush calms down till it's just a dusting of pink across his tanned cheeks. Wonwoo prefers Mingyu's laugh over every song they've done so far honestly, and wow, when did he become so cheesy?

“You're different in the morning.”

Wonwoo watches as Mingyu swipes his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Am I?”

Mingyu lets a sliver of a smile, placing his own hand over Wonwoo's. The rapper seems hesitant, deciding if he should shrug the stubborn hand off his waist or not, but eventually Mingyu decides to tangle their fingers together. As Mingyu his lips for what has to be the fifth time in thirty seconds, Wonwoo finds himself leaning in, shortening the space between them, until their lips are only a fraction of an inch away.

And yeah, he thinks, he might be just a little bit more impulsive in the morning, as he gently catches Mingyu's wet lips against his and kisses him like it's his job; his sole source of income. Their position isn't really right for kissing and a member could walk in any minute but it feels oddly right. Like Wonwoo was supposed to be doing this; if anything maybe he should have done it sooner. He really doesn't give it much thought because Mingyu's lips are pillow-y soft.

Eventually they pull away and go back to staring intensely at each other.

“Well,” Mingyu starts with widened eyes but there's no hint of disgust and it eases Wonwoo's pounding heart, “that was...something.”

Wonwoo flushes, “Sorry, it's just that-” but he cuts himself off. It's just that what? That you just looked really good with the way the light was hitting you and god, you're practically glowing like an angel and all I want to do is stay in bed with you in my arms and kiss you more in a platonic friendship kind of way? Yeah, no, Wonwoo would rather die than say that.

Mingyu seems to find the distress Wonwoo's feeling once he's all caught up to be funny though, laughing with his whole body as he rolls on top of the anxious brunette, effectively trapping the older male underneath him, chin gently resting on top of Wonwoo's chest.

Wonwoo swallows thickly, suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands, until he decides to just rest them against the dip of Mingyu's back.

“It's okay, I would have kissed myself too,” Mingyu teases with a well-meaning smirk.

Wonwoo just scoffs, rolling his eyes as he shoves the taller boy away, his body becoming uncomfortably hot. He blames it on the fact Mingyu is like a human radiator and not because it actually felt nice being pressed against the younger male.

“I'm hungry.”

“I'll make you something.”

Mingyu muffles a scoff, “Oh please, you're about as handy in the kitchen as Hansol.” Wonwoo winces, remembering their team's little cooking escapade where he and Hansol were left twiddling their fingers, their cooking ineptitude glaringly obvious. “I'll make something for us,” Mingyu continues, climbing out of the small bed (Wonwoo finds it a little ridiculous how guys of their size have to sleep in a bunk bed), stretching his hands up high causing his shirt to ride up and show his soft stomach.

Wonwoo can already imagine Mingyu in the kitchen, preparing whatever meal Junhui had taught him because the Chinese male was actually quite the cook and Mingyu, if anything, was a quick study. Mingyu doesn't cook often, but he's cooked enough that Wonwoo has the picture of it burned inside his eyelids. Mingyu humming softly as he peels the vegetables, doing a little dance as he glides from one side of the kitchen to the other in that god awful pink apron they bought Jeonghan as a gag gift. And everything about it just cries of domesticity that it makes Wonwoo's head spin and those weird feelings bubble up again.

He just groans, telling Mingyu to “wake me up when the foods ready” who replies with an amused huff as he pulls the covers over his head and curls up because he really doesn't want to focus on those feelings. He doesn't want to put a label on something he doesn't quite understand yet because the term “best-friend” doesn't feel quite right anymore.

He closes his eyes, the sound of a pan sizzling becoming his background noise, and muses that maybe, somewhere in the future, he'll tell Mingyu how he feels and they could figure it out together.  

A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoyed the story :D There isn't much to say besides the fact that this story is just really fluffy and both Wonwoo and MIngyu are a little hard-headed and don't want to jepordize their friendship with labeling it as something more. If you like the story please comment/subscribe <3