“Ice cream cake!”

Baekhyun nearly jumps a mile high at Jongdae’s suddenly outburst, comic flying from his hand and knocking his reading glasses askew in the process. “What. The . Was that.” He demands, turning to the younger who’s sitting in front of him, head buried in his phone.

Jongdae doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even move an inch. “Jongdae. Kim Jongdae. ing hell. JONGDAE!” Baekhyun screeches.

“Huh?” Said man finally looks up from the device, eyes blown wide. He seems a little lost. Baekhyun’s patience is wearing thin.

“Why the did you just shout out ‘Ice cream cake!’? You made me drop my comic!” He turns and slides his upper body off the bed, stretching until he grabs the book and tugs it close enough with his fingers so he can properly pick it off the floor. Once he settles himself again, he looks up at Jongdae demanding an answer.

“Oh,” the man in question responds as if he hadn’t realized what he’d done. A rosy pink dusts the apples of his prominent cheekbones. He smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. Baekhyun kinda wants to kiss him. Baekhyun always wants to kiss him. But he doesn’t. Instead, he holds his ground, demanding an answer.

“Yixing was dancing to Ice Cream Cake. He sent me the video. It’s so cute! Look!” Jongdae explains in a rush and enthusiastically shoves the phone at Baekhyun’s face. The older growls at the bright light that irritates his eyes and swats the intruding hand away.

“Don’t,” Baekhyun frowns. “I don’t care to see what he’s dancing to.”

“Well someone’s being a little ,” Jongdae snorts in return, finally snapping out of his Yixing-inflicted stupor, his snarkiness making an obvious return. He pulls back his hand and dramatically examines it for marks. Baekhyun doesn’t even know why he’s so worked up by all of this but it’s maddening and infuriating- whatever this is.

“ off,” he snaps and lifts himself off the bed, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him for emphasis.

Jongdae stares at the door through which Baekhyun had exited, trying to process just what on earth had happened. He’s pretty sure what he said was only marginally offensive- somewhere between his usual insults that no one pays attention to and what only Sehun gets butthurt over. Soft kid. Baekhyun though- Baekhyun loves his little jabs. He usually indulges fully in their banters. It was part of their dynamic. That, just now, was nothing like the way the older usually reacts. A sigh pushes itself past his lips. He should probably apologise for whatever it is that he’d done. Maybe Baekhyun is just stressed and edgy. They all had moments like that. Even though he trusted that the older would confide in him when he felt down- which he hadn’t done this time around, Jongdae selflessly knocks those feelings aside.

Standing, he makes his way out the door and drags himself to the living room in search of the other. Instead, he finds Minseok sprawled out on the long couch watching some stupid K-Drama. Old people.

“Minseokieeee~” he whines, falling onto the older and draping himself across Minseok’s body like a blanket. A very heavy and warm human blanket. Minseok exhales sharply, clearly annoyed, but he doesn’t make an effort to throw Jongdae off. He doesn’t even respond, other than adjusting himself so that his balls and lungs don’t collapse.

Minseok is warm and smells nice. He’s soft in all the right places and Jongdae concurs that he’s his new favourite member to sleep on, after Baekhyun of course. Speaking of the little devil, the drama queen was his original target but he’d gotten distracted along the way.

“Jongdae get off me.” Minseok suddenly says.