"I can't sleep," Lay whispered, staring at the ceiling and trying to make contellations out of its imperfections. Kris was in the bunk beneath him, his eyes wide open, shoes on, ready to go out whenever Lay decided he needed to. Kris was sleeping in his shoes a lot lately; Lay had serious insomnia that he refused to acknowledge as a problem. He would defend himself by saying he's naturally nocturnal, which was bull, since Lay didn't have a spare second during the day to even blink, let alone take a nap. Winter had blown its last chilly breath into spring, which passed by uneventfully, bringing in a busy summer with an impossible schedule. The air conditioning on their floor was broken, making living conditions unbearable, especially at night, when there was nothing to do except think about the heat. Lay jumped over the side of the top bunk, half , body shimmering with salty sweat. As he slipped into a T-shirt, Kris couldn't help watching the thin fabric taking form of Lay's shoulders and falling loosly over his thin waist. 

"Where should we go?" Kris asked, slowly closing the door behind him. "Lay you're going the wrong way." 

Lay turned around from the dead end of the hallway, eyelids heavy, following Kris without question. 

"Sorry hyung, I'm so awake and so tired at the same time."

They took the stairs, because it was quieter than an elevator, even though they were fourteen floors from the ground. They were used to the trek, both down and up, because they ventured out at least four times a week, sometimes for food, sometimes just so they had a secret to keep. 

After getting bubble, the two began to wander around the city. There were a lot of people out, but they were polar opposites of those that pushed through in the morning and afternoon rush hours. It felt different. Their faces were softer, whether from drinking or infatuation with the night, and they smiled lazily. Lay desperately searched for conversation.

"I love bubble," he said. Kris glanced at him in admiration. A number of responses crossed his mind, but he wasn't ready to cross boundaries. 

"Me too. It feels kind of nice out here," Kris said, resorting to small talk. 

"Much better than in the room." 

"Are you ready for the Malaysia show?"

"Yeah, are you?"

Kris felt it was safe to assume that Lay was also finding this mind-boggingly boring. 

"Have you talked to your family lately?" 

Lay's face contorted, caught off guard by the question. He thought about it for a while, trying not to let any weakness show in front of Kris. 

"Not really," he said, in an attempt to sound nonchalant, though his entire body tensed. 

"I haven't spoken to my mom since last year," Kris said, shoving his hands in his pockets. His sudden vulnerablity was a sign for Lay to open up. 

"You know, when I was a kid, my parents were always out. They'd send me to my grandparent's house when they started to fight, or if they wanted to do drugs or whatever. It took me years to figure out what was going on."

Kris's stomach churned with the idea that Lay ever went through pain, as if the pain he felt now wasn't any worse. 

"My grandparents," Lay continued, "they raised me." He laughed sadly to himself, and kicked a rock off the sidewalk. "They were the one's who got me to audition in the first place. I was dancing around the house after school, because I didn't think they were home, and they walked out of the bedroom to tell me to turn the music down and caught me. A couple months later, we were on a flight together to come here to audition, and even stayed a while during training. Then I disappeared and Zhang Yixing became Lay and I never went back. Now I just feel like my parents. I completely abandoned them. The only time they see me is when we're on TV."

Kris was sinking into Lay's voice, wishing to drown. Lay shook his head. 

"Do you know what I mean? Do you ever miss something like that?"

"Before we moved to China, I lived in Canada for ten years," Kris said, feeling the cool Quebec sun on his cheeks as he closed his eyes, finding Lay's hand in the dark. "There's nothing like a winter there. There's carnivals and ice houses, oh, and sled racing! It was like growing in a white dream, and everything was a castle."

Lay grinned as Kris became more animated.

"All of the buildings here, glass. In Quebec, it was all stone, old, everything had a history. My mom used to make authentic Chinese food for the people in our apartment, she was practically famous for it. That's what I miss." 

Kris thought about all the things he would do for a hug from his mother. For her to tell him that everything would be okay and cradle him to sleep. 

As the two made their way back up to their dorms, Kris felt something different in the silence. Lay seemed so trusting beside him, as he leaned on Kris for support. What Lay didn't know was that Kris would've carried him up all the stairs in the world if it meant he would be happy. Kris clenched his jaw, his feelings for Lay tired of festering in his gut, pleading to be let out. Just as Kris was ready to climb back into his bed, Lay hugged him. It was surely out of gratitude, Kris wouldn't let himself believe otherwise, but as Lay looked into him, Kris had to fight himself to keep from kissing him. Keep quiet, and you'll never know rejection, Kris thought. He can't say no if you don't say anything. Lay's lips pulled into a smile, teasing Kris beyond imagination as they formed the words, thank you. 

Kris fell asleep with the feeling of being punched in the stomach and kept his shoes on, just in case.