we've got a lot (that hasn't even began).

 

 

Jongdae wakes up to quiet.

 

Which strikes him as weird, seeing as how SM had granted them the month off after they had successfully topped the charts with their latest comeback. He had expected to hear Joonmyun's exasperated voice filtering through the wood of the door – probably scolding the far-too-energetic-for-the-morning maknae line – or Kyungsoo griping about how no one is helping him with breakfast; probably Xiumin and Luhan arguing about which is the best soccer team (they never stop, goodness gracious).

 

But not a single sound. Not even hushed voices. Where is everyone?

 

Eyes still bleary from having just woken up, he manages to weasel his way out of bed (with much prodding on his conscious self; he has never considered himself to be a morning person). He idly scratches at a spot on the nape of his neck, endlessly wondering how on earth did the dorm get so... stagnant. The next thing that comes to mind is that maybe the others have gone out to go shopping, and they left him behind because really, Jongdae will wear whatever the designer noonas will give him.

 

He's wrong.

 

As soon as he opens the door, he is greeted by Chanyeol plopped down on the couch, legs dangling precariously close to the flower vase by the living room table that Kyungsoo had brought home from their trip to Thailand. Jongdae can't help but visualize how the wide-eyed vocalist would react once he finds the pretty little thing on the floor, smashed to pieces. "Good morning," he calls out, heading directly for the kitchen and downing a glass of water.

 

"Morning." Chanyeol's muffled voice replies. By the time Jongdae's out of the dining room, his bandmate's bed hair can be seen sticking upwards, face mashed into the pillows. Quite an amusing sight, considering how Chanyeol's a number of inches in excess for him to even fit into the whole couch. Jongdae chuckles as he flips the television on.

 

"I'm presuming the others went shopping?"

 

The rapper cracks one eye open. "Yeah, but I opted to stay."

 

"Why?"

 

Shifting himself so he could at least breathe properly through his nose while he talks (it just made him look more awkward than he normally does, Jongdae notes), Chanyeol sighs, "It's a lazy Sunday morning. We've got the month off, and I need my beauty sleep."

 

He earns himself a hearty chuckle and a cushion in the face.

 

"Breakfast?"

 

"I want takeout."

 

 

 

 

 

Chinese fried rice, dumplings, and half an hour later, Jongdae monopolizes the couch as he watches reruns of Pororo. Chanyeol's tried twice – thrice already – to disturb his reign on said furniture, but to no avail. He isn't ticklish, nor is he distracted easily by the younger's childish (and futile) attempts to make him budge, even just a few centimeters from where he's sprawled across the upholstery.

 

Jongdae freezes up, though, when he feels a large hand rest upon the crown of his head. "What do you think you're doing?"

 

Chanyeol grins; so this is what keeps his hyung off. "Oh, nothing," he casually says, lightly rubbing small circular motions on the older's head with his fingers, "I just wanted to feel if you've been taking care of your hair well. You know, with the constant styling and stuff."

 

Jongdae rolls his eyes, stfling a yawn. "That's a lame excuse, Park." He makes a move to shy away from those oh-so-large hands, but Chanyeol's effectively bigger than he is, and maneuvers them so his head rests on the younger's lap. "Chanyeol, what –"

 

"Shhh. I know you like it." He can hear the grin on Chanyeol's face, the one he sees whenever Chanyeol proves himself to be right in an argument, or when he wins a tournament in Pokemon. Ah, screw it.

 

Jongdae yawns – for real this time – and closes his eyes, trying to make himself comfortable. Times like these, he appreciates Chanyeol's hands: warm and long-, left palm pressing on all the right places on his head enough to make him fluttery-eyed, and the right rubbing his shoulder (Jongdae thinks Chanyeol already knows how to make him fall asleep easily). Then there's the sudden heaviness to his eyelids and they almost droop, but then Chanyeol shifts and he hears an audible crash.

 

"Oh, ."

 

Well, he wasn't wrong when he said that the poor vase was bound to break sooner or later.

 

"Cuddle now, clean later," Jongdae mumbles, guiding the younger's flailing hands back to his head, and he sees Chanyeol grin at him, only to resume the languid motions once again.

 

"You sound like a child." The younger's deep voice says as his eyes start to shut close. Jongdae only smiles. He could care less.

 

Lazy Sunday morning, indeed.

fin.