They have the dorm all to themselves today. Minhyuk and Sanha are at school and Jinjin and Myungjun have an appointment at the dermatologist’s. Dongmin doesn’t have any scheduled meetings or shoots, and Bin doesn’t have any important errands to do, so they stay.

Bin lives for these days. The silence in the dorm doesn’t bother him at all. Instead, it soothes him. Heals him. Kind of feels like it protects him from all the evil in the world. It’s a reprieve from the busy hustle of stylists and practices and stages, the 24 hours that blur into each other until they pile into a rushed week. Today, he lets himself sink into the mattress. Today, he indulges in the absence of noise and revels in the imprint of a smile on his left shoulder, swathed in a blanket they share from shoulder to toe.

“What are you thinking?” A murmur. The imprint moves.

Bin hums in reply, cupping Dongmin’s cheeks and swooping down a little to plant a kiss on his nose. Their eyes meet, and they both know they’re still shy, still too new to this. They’ve known each other for years, but not in this way. But it’s okay. They both like it somehow.

There’s music in loving someone and having them love you back, all in a different way and in a variation of shades. When they’re cuddling into each other like this, Bin feels all sorts of colors: pink, maroon, violet, a pastel yellow in contrast to a bright, neon one. It’s funny, because when Dongmin smiles or laughs or just stands there and looks at him, the colors turn into notes. And in that newfound music Bin feels compelled to sing and dance. There’s a rhythm in his feet he’s never known before. To test the waters with Dongmin by his side, to either waltz with him or groove, feels like home, even if neither of them are fully ready for whatever change of steps may come their way.

Dongmin pecks the side of his mouth, which brings him back to his question.

“Nothing,” Bin says. Dongmin ducks to hide his face in the nook of Bin’s neck while Bin reaches for his nape, feeling the warmth there, the same one in Dongmin’s cheeks, Dongmin’s kiss, Dongmin’s gaze. It’s everywhere and it’s driving Bin crazy bit by bit. “I mean, I wasn’t thinking of anything important. Just appreciating this. The now.”

Dongmin chuckles, head shaking, as he peppers kisses in the space between his boyfriend’s neck and shoulder, leaves some on the underside of his jaw. Bin tries to suppress his shiver at that and miserably fails, Dongmin noticing with a laugh. He laughs until they’re kissing and Bin kisses until he’s laughing. They find themselves sitting, Bin’s back against the wall and legs splayed across the bed lazily and wide open, Dongmin practically in his lap. Not that Bin’s complaining.

His best friend Bin. His boyfriend Bin. He loves the sound of it in his head, can’t wait to boast about it too.

“You’re silly.” Bin says it matter-of-factly, in response to nothing, really. Just says it because he feels silly. He smiles cheekily and Dongmin leans in for another kiss, and another, and another. Too many, but not for their standards. Too many is never enough.

Bin kisses him, soft lips sliding against his. Dongmin’s fingers thread through his hair and he smiles into his boyfriend’s gentle kiss. Bin’s hands are pressed gently against Dongmin’s chest, not to push him away but to feel the beat of his heart. Unintentionally (Bin convinces himself), his fingers flutter down to tickle Dongmin’s abs, eliciting a surprised gasp too loud for the quiet that permeates their room.

Dongmin breathes into him, “You know what I’m thinking?”

“Babe, I swear if it’s anything naughty—”

“Idiot, it’s not.” Dongmin rolls his eyes, but when he looks back at Bin his eyes shine bright with what Bin intuits is mischief—not a bad look on Dongmin at all—and something much softer, twinkling in the shadows under the top bunk. He sighs. To Bin, it sounds like the first draft of spring air.

“I just like kissing you a lot, is all.” Dongmin smiles a sleepy smile, lips pink and cheeks rosy. He plays with the tufts of hair at Bin’s nape. He gives him a peck on the lips, then plants small trails of kisses up his cheekbones. A blush creeps up the expanse of Bin’s neck and onto his cheeks, until Bin is convinced he looks exactly like a tomato now. Or a cherry, if that’s what Dongmin likes. Bin knows neither of them are picky.

“So, you—” Bin clears his throat, his voice coming out too high. “You like kissing me? That’s all you’re thinking of?”

It’s funny that they call Bin the dog-cat because with the way Dongmin practically purrs, hands still at Bin’s nape and now nose and lips teasing at his jaw, he seems more like the animal hybrid to Bin. Bin can almost hear the smirk in his boyfriend’s voice as he says, “Correction: I like kissing you a lot. Also, I don’t just like kissing you a lot, plus it’s not all I think about. Nope.” Dongmin chuckles, and Bin would start to wonder what’s so hilarious if he didn’t love the sound of Dongmin’s laugh so much.

Dongmin continues, “I like you waaaay more than I like kissing you, baby. And that’s a whole lot.”

Bin sputters at that (deep inside he denies that he sputters at the “baby” and instead does so at the “way more” part, but we all know he’s got to be kidding—he sputters at everything cheesy Dongmin tells him). “Why are you such a cheesy piece of ?” Bin can’t help laughing. He feels so full of mirth it’s shaking out of his shoulders.

“But you were the one who first called me ‘babe’.” Dongmin an eyebrow at him, and before Bin can whine some more he shuts him up with a long, deep kiss that ends with them in a flurry and tangle of limbs. A kiss that, to be frank, Bin wouldn’t trade for anything in the world, as long as it’s from one Lee Dongmin.