Minho squeezed his eyes tightly as he rolled over in bed, sun bleeding through his closed eyelids. He whined, smashing his face into the pillow. He didn’t know what time it was, but it was too early, of that he certain. He had nothing to do today, and he’d be damned if he rolled out of bed before the afternoon. Surrounded by darkness again, he tried to drift off.

A chuckle came from his left.

He reflexively shot out his arm to hit the offending noise, but it met mattress. He grunted, and the bed dipped, squeaking under the added weight. “Get up, lazy,” Kibum sing-songed. Minho, still half asleep, gave a noncommittal grunt and rolled onto his side, opening his eyes slightly.

“‘S too early,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep. Kibum laughed and ruffled his hair.

“It’s almost noon.”

“Too early,” he repeated, grabbing at Kibum’s arm. He tugged at it, causing him to topple onto his side. He smiled and curled himself around the smaller boy, nestling his face in the back of his neck. His arms wrapped around Kibum’s tiny waist, curling under his t-shirt to smooth skin. “Better.”

Kibum sighed, shaking his head and relaxing. Minho knew he was smiling. He pressed a quick peck on the younger’s nape, sending shivers down the other. He chuckled. “I like waking up like this,” he decided.

Kibum hummed, pulling away slightly to roll in his arms, curling arms around his neck. He could tell the other had been up for a while, his breath smelled like toothpaste. Kibum leaned up and kissed him softly, pulling away with what just might have been a blush. “Me too,” he agreed, “I wish we could do this more often.”

Minho nodded. Neither left the bed for the next two hours.