Jongdae barely wakes up when Yixing slips out from beneath his arm. Sunshine pools on the bed, warming his , and he snuggles into the blankets more until he's completely in the sunbeam and dozes off.

He hears Zitao, Yixing's room mate, greet him in the kitchen, followed by a reedy meow from Zitao's cat. They exchange pleasantries, Yixing pours a mug of coffee and starts tea for himself, and Jongdae can hear him shuffling around for something, dishes clinking and paper rustling, until there's a low murmuring and happy chirruping from the cat.

Yixing always treats the apartment cat to pieces of donut. Poor thing is going to get fat off of donuts and the coddling, but fat cats are rather endearing, according to Yixing.

Minutes later, he returns, nudging the door shut with his heel to keep the cat from following. Jongdae gets up on an elbow and rests his cheek on his hand.

"You coward."

Yixing sets the mug of coffee on the nightstand and pulls his shirt over his head with a mumbled "I don't want to hear that from you."

"Of course not." He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. "I'm just the toy." He's not bitter, really. He's just a bit hurt and a lot disappointed, but he's never been sure if it's because of Yixing or himself.

"Jongdae," Yixing sighs. "You're my best friend, and I love you, but your own track record doesn't inspire much confidence." So Jongdae's had a boyfriend or twelve; he just has a lot of love to give. He'd like to give it all to Yixing.

On his back, Jongdae stetches his arms over his head, arching his spine until it pops, and rolls onto his side again. His hair is a mess, flat on one side and spiked on the other. "Why can't you just tell him?"

Yixing's silent, stepping into his jeans and hopping a little to pull them up his legs. He sits on the bed and shuffles around a drawer for a pair of socks without holes.

Jongdae scoots closer and sits up on his hip to wrap his arms around the other man's waist and press kisses into the back of his neck. "Just tell him," he sighs and he settles his chin on Yixing's shoulder, "that you can see him in bright, vivid Technicolour."

Yixing shakes his head and leans forward to pull his socks on. "He'll think I'm teasing him, because he can't see it." They don't match, but he doesn't take his shoes off at work, anyway. No one will know. They just look pale grey to Jongdae.

"Then get over it." Jongdae holds tighter, pulling Yixing upright. It almost feels desperate. Almost. Jongdae doesn't do desperate, though. Too tacky. "I don't see in colour, but I know yours. Everything is warm." His fingers pass over Yixing's chest, down his abs, to his hips.

"It's not that easy, Jongdae." Not that he'd know from experience. He turns his head and kisses Jongdae's cheek, kisses him again over a closed eyelid, and excuses himself to get to work.

Jongdae stays in bed for another half hour, watching TV and slowly drinking the coffee Yixing had brought him, before rummaging in the sheets for the clothes he'd kicked off during the night and finally making an appearance outside the bedroom. He usually stays in the room until Zitao leaves for class, but he'd overheard Zitao telling Yixing his class was cancelled, so he can either stay in Yixing's room the entire day or face the object of his best friend-with-benefits-slash-crush's affections.

He really has to pee, so face the music it is.

When he slips into the kitchen from the bathroom, he sees Zitao stretched out on the couch with a movie playing on the TV and his cat on his chest. Jongdae can hear the purrs as he walks as quietly as he can to the kitchen.

"Morning, hyung."

. Jongdae smiles over his shoulder. "Morning. I thought you had class."

Zitao sits up, cradling the content cat to his shoulder, and leans against the back of the sofa to look at Jongdae. "Cancelled."

Awkward silences are not Jongdae's friend. He rinses out the coffee mug and looks everywhere but the sofa. "Sorry if we kicked you out last night," he laughs airily. "You can catch up on sleep, now, I guess."

"It's alright. I crashed with a friend. Thank you for feeding my little monster." Zitao rubs the cat's shoulders and kisses its face when it looks up at him with a dazed feline smile. Zitao smiles back, and it's kind of cute how similar they look. Jongdae had teased Zitao for his panda eyes when they first met, but the impression changed when Zitao grinned or glared or even slept. He was incredibly cat-like, sometimes, both in appearance and behaviour. Whenver he'd nudge against Yixing and beg for a bite of his food or how pleased he looked when Yixing's hand slipped up his shirt to scratch his back, Jongdae couldn't help but see the similarities.

He hates cats.

Jongdae investigates the fridge out of want to distract himself more than actual hunger. He can see Zitao in his periphery, and he wonders what would really happen if he says anything.

Hey, you know Yixing sees colour, right?

And how hard would it be to lie and add I see colour, too.?

Zitao coos at the cat, pulling his lips between his teeth when it stretches and pushes its fluffy paws against his mouth.

He's too ing cute. It makes Jongdae sick.

"No problem." There's a waver to his voice that Zitao hopefully doesn't notice or at least doesn't comment on. Jongdae pats his pockets for his phone and wallet. "I'm gonna go. See you."

Zitao looks kind of disappointed. "You can stay, if you want. We don't mind company."

I mind. "Nah. I need to some shopping. My fridge is preserving more cobwebs than food." He ruffles Zitao's hair as he passes. The cat watches him with narrowed eyes. He blows it a kiss that has its face scrunching up in distate, and Zitao laughs his goodbye.

Jongdae hates how jealous and lonely he feels every time he leaves Yixing's apartment.