it must have been the way sungyeol gets out of bed almost immediately after like he always does even though myungsoo’s breathing has yet to slow and his body still hasn’t registered the loss of sungyeol’s hands and mouth and weight - but the question is out before myungsoo can allow himself to overanalyse it and the words taste even more bitter than expected. 

sungyeol looks up, jeans already buttoned, and shrugs. “why?”

because you don’t feel anything for me, myungsoo thinks. because when you me i feel empty, not full. because when he’s around you see right through me.

"because we’re best friends. i don’t want anything to screw that up."

sungyeol smiles and plops down on the bed next to myungsoo, still and sweaty. “the moment things get weird, i promise, i promise you we’ll stop. okay?” 

sungyeol’s playing with myungsoo’s ear softly, and myungsoo wonders if sungyeol even realises he’s doing it. 

"is it getting weird for you now?" sungyeol asks, half-playful, and myungsoo can’t stop himself from lifting a hand to brush sungyeol’s hair out of his eyes. 

"nah, i’m fine," he says, and sungyeol gets to his feet. 

"good. i love youuuuuu. i’m going to get something to eat, want anything?"

myungsoo shakes his head and pushes himself into a sitting position, still , still sweaty. the sound of the door to their room closing is the next thing he hears.

time for a shower, then practice, then the rest of his life. i love you, too.