1. (The Things I Really…)

They eat the rest of the donuts from breakfast because, well, they can. Because life’s too short and all that other nihilistic YOLO crap that Junmyeon likes to spout when he’s feeling like a particularly small fish in a really big world—or else has spent his evening getting a little too acquainted with the bottom of a soju bottle. Yixing doesn’t drink too much anymore—says it ruins his pretense of being a real-, responsible adult; says Junmyeon and Jongdae really shouldn’t drink either—but still, turning dessert into a legit breakfast is something he can get behind. And Jongdae, of course, would spend all of his—and Junmyeon’s and Yixing’s—monthly food budget to buy donuts for every meal of every week.

So yeah, they eat the rest of the donuts.

Junmyeon doesn’t miss the opportunity to complain about the high sugar content, though, which prompts Jongdae to gasp and tease in turn that Junmyeon’s diet obsession is showing.

“It’s too sweet,” Junmyeon whines petulantly anyway, because it’s still early morning on a weekend and he’s allowed to do what he wants for a little while longer.

“You’re sweet,” Yixing says, his hot breath ghosting over the space just under Jongdae’s earlobe where his jaw connects with his neck. Jongdae shudders, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation; he groans a little when Yixing’s tongue pops out to swipe a long strip with his tongue onto Jongdae’s skin.

“Him or me?” Junmyeon wants to know as his own mouth wanders freely over Jongdae’s exposed shoulder on the other side of the bed.

“Jongdae tastes like donuts,” Yixing announces. He lifts his head and reaches across Jongdae’s body to pull Junmyeon to him. When their mouths meet Yixing makes sure to trail his pink tongue languidly across the curve of Junmyeon’s bottom lip so that he can tell them both, “And Junma does too.”


2. (It’s Your Day)

They fall back asleep after breakfast and even when they wake up again no one bothers to get out of bed. There’re still finals that Jongdae needs to cram for; Junmyeon’s got student papers to grade; and Yixing’s email doesn’t stop blowing up with requests for various floral arrangements just because it’s a Saturday and he’s taken the day off.

But the rain doesn’t stop its steady drip drip onto the pavement outside either, and that’s enough of an excuse for Jongdae to drag Junmyeon’s body heat closer and for Yixing to tangle their legs back together again.

“This is nice,” Jongdae murmurs mid yawn. Junmyeon and Yixing agree that it is. “Aren’t you glad I called you up in the middle of the night, Junmyeonnie?”

Junmyeon snorts at that because his sleep is precious to him and he makes a point not to answer when Jongdae repeats himself, this time with a pout.

Yixing smacks his lips together and uses the hand that isn’t entwined with Junmyeon’s to rub tiredly at his eyes. “Well, I’m glad,” he intervenes before Jongdae can get annoyed at Junmyeon’s teasing and ruin their peaceful cuddles by attacking the elder with tickling fingers.

“Wasn’t asking you,” Jongdae grumbles, but the smile on his face says he’s not really mad, even when he removes his arms from around Junmyeon’s waist so he can turn on his side to face Yixing.

“You big baby,” Junmyeon chuckles into Jongdae’s nape as he scoots a little closer and curls himself into the solid warmth of Jongdae’s back. At first Jongdae harrumphs indignantly, but Yixing’s snickering softly and soon Jongdae is giggling too. They have no problem spending the rest of the rainy afternoon like that, lying pressed up against each other and bodies shaking together in laughter.


3. (May Be)

They never really took the time to stop and ask what is this? And even now, with the three of them intertwined as they snuggle surrounded by the piles of blankets on Yixing’s bed, no one bothers to wonder what are we? because it doesn’t matter. Not really. Not to them.

“I love you, Junma,” Yixing sighs, his words adorably slurred by the lazy exhaustion that comes from doing nothing all day. “You too,” he assures Jongdae when the younger makes a face at him. Junmyeon doesn’t respond right away, but his silence doesn’t worry Yixing; he knows—just like Jongdae knows—that Junmyeon cares for them deeply, even if he doesn’t say it much.

“Mhmm,” Jongdae hums in agreement. “Thanks for the donuts, Junmyeonnie.”

Junmyeon does speak this time, though it takes him awhile and the other two boys are a soft blur behind the unshed tears of sudden emotion that choke him up. “My pleasure,” he tells them, and he means it.

“I didn’t call just because you have a car and I knew you’d pay.”

Jongdae sounds worried; he has no reason to be. “I know, Jongdae,” Junmyeon whispers into the air. The room gets gradually darker with the setting of the hidden sun and rain continues to fall as Junmyeon brushes a hand over Yixing’s hair and Jongdae shuffles a little deeper under the covers and into the other two’s embrace.