There's a warmth pressing to his side. His eyes refuse to open and in his unwillingness to let go of sleep he lifts his hand lazily, fingers skimming over warm skin, trying to figure out who has climbed into his bed.

“Insoo hyung,” warm words press over the curve of his shoulder, “get up.”

Sleep is starting to leave him, his eyes open just enough to make out the soft morning light, the outline of the other person in bed.

He rolls over fully, face planting against a chest, arms flopping over the flaring line of hips. The warm morning smells like mint, the shampoo in the blue bottle that promises shiny locks.

“Seyong,” he says, “get out of my bed.”

He shifts, his arms hold on tighter, legs trying to find space in between Seyong's. His head slots under his chin, finding place at the hollow line of Seyong's neck. His cheek presses to skin, and he smiles when he feels a rush of warmness pressing back, knows that if he opens his eyes he'll see a rise of pink over the golden skin.

There's a moment when he hears an intake of breath, a nervous rush stuttering out of Seyong's lips.

“It's your birthday today,” Seyong finally says, the bed creaks, “happy birthday.”

Insoo doesn't dwell on it much, he's about to say thank you when he feels a kiss on top of his head. It's not the kind of kiss Insoo would consider great, it's too hard of a press and it hurts more than anything. But his eyes finally open, hands trying to hold on desperately to the warmness of Seyong. The covers go with him before Insoo feels them land all tangled on his legs.

“Get up, please,” Seyong says from the door way, Insoo always forgets how fast he is, “we have things to do.”

-

Gunwoo's eyes are closed but Insoo knows when he sits next to him that he's been waiting, ready for Insoo to start talking.

“It's my birthday today,” is the first thing he says and Gunwoo nods.

“We got you a cake, but I'm not supposed to tell you,” Gunwoo answers, cracking one eye open, “why do they still think I can keep secrets?”

Insoo laughs, smiling wide, “because you keep the secrets that matter.”

Gunwoo turns to look at him, smiling back, “I just know when not to talk.”

The moment turns serious, Insoo squirms at the unrelenting gaze Gunwoo puts him under.  There's noise around them, people shouting, Jinseok and Junkyu playing some sort of game that has them laughing loudly.

“Seyong...” Insoo starts to say, stops when he feels eyes on him. Gunwoo's eyes go past his shoulders, eyebrow raising in a sort of challenge.

He doesn't have to turn to look who it is, the soft gaze Seyong's always intent in giving him has been seared into his mind, down to his senses.

“What are you doing?” Insoo whispers, “you're an idiot.”

Gunwoo's eyes flicker to him, small smile stretching out.

“Happy birthday to you,” Gunwoo starts to sing, hands going up to clap. And then it's the whole room singing to him. Jinseok's sweet voice, Junkyu's overly loud chants. And in the midst of all the other voices, the soft tone of Seyong's words stretching into an awkward tune.

Seyong's the one holding the cake, Insoo looks at it, can't make his eyes look up, can't look at Seyong. So he waits for the singing to stop, closes his eyes and tries to think of a wish.

-

They're sweating when they get off the stage. Jinseok is running around, laughing at the way sweat just rolls off Junkyu's body.

Gunwoo lingers for a while around the lit hallway, slumping against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

He's taking a swing of water when Insoo finally goes up to him. He can see Seyong a little farther away, hovering by the door, eyes trained to the sidewalk, waiting for their car to pull up.  The way tiredness narrows his eyes is concerning and Insoo feels the way sleep pulls at the corners of his eyes, understands the never ceasing need to sleep and the frustrating chase of it.

“Insoo,” Gunwoo says softly, back straightening, the water bottle gives out under his fist, “you’ll never say anything if you keep thinking.”

Insoo blinks at him, mouth opening in answer, “it’s not like that,” Insoo says, “there just isn’t time.”

Gunwoo stares at him, wide eyes narrowing with judgement, “So say it quick, it’ll hurt less.  Seyong what?”

Insoo takes a deep breath, hopes briefly that the car pulls up but he knows it won’t be easier to say it later than now, “Seyong doesn’t like me how you like me.”

It feels like he’s been doused in cold water, Gunwoo’s eyes don’t flicker but he can see the way the corners of his mouth twitch, the way he recoils, inches away from him.

“I don’t like you,” Gunwoo says, voice steady, “not at all.”

There's the sound of a car horn outside, and then the rush of the cold wind as Seyong opens the door. Insoo hesitates a second, trying to think of an answer but Gunwoo talks again.
 
"I stopped liking you before you liked me back," and it sounds so childish, like such a Gunwoo thing to say, Insoo can't figure out his way out of it. To be fair he can't figure out much of Gunwoo to begin with, his mind is trying to figure it all out, Gunwoo smiles at him, his fingers going to reach for his hand, pulling him forward.

“Seyong will stop looking at you if you keep looking at me,” Gunwoo whispers, “or he’ll stop wanting to look at you if you means you and me.”

Insoo pulls back, is relieved when Jinseok calls for him, hurries him along, away from Gunwoo.

-

The light flooding from their small refrigerator makes him squint, his eyes heavy, trying to close but Insoo keeps peeling them open, pushing back the sandy feel of sleep.

He’s pushing around containers and bottles, trying to make room for all the cakes he’s gotten when the door from one of the room closes and shuts loudly.  His heart echoes gently, stopping mid beat.  A part of him hopes for Gunwoo, still unable to shake his words but finding more comfort in his worn oddness.

He knows it’s Seyong before he speaks, his back stiffens with the smell of his shampoo, the smell of mint and eucalyptus, burning against his senses.

“Ah,” Seyong says when he makes it just a couple awkward feet behind Insoo.  

He thinks he should turn and look at him, thinks about Gunwoo’s words, but he can’t and he doesn’t know why.

“Can I have the milk,” Seyong mumbles, stepping closer, voice quiet.

Insoo nods, sticks his hand around, finds the half full carton of milk.  He knows he has to turn now, but he pretends to not see, rummages around, hand going anywhere but the milk.

“Please?” Seyong stresses after a while and Insoo grabs for it, turns around.

He looks tired, face imprinted with the creases of his pillow, eyes swollen with sleep.  He doesn’t say anything when Seyong drinks straight from the carton, but his eyes can’t look away from the long column of his neck, adam's apple bobbing with his pulls.  He watches as he crushes the empty carton, holds it in his arms, cradles it, doesn’t move.

The empty pause should be filled with words but Insoo’s still caught at the softness Seyong radiates.

“Why do you like Gunwoo?” Seyong whispers, turns his gaze at Insoo.

Insoo sighs, knows he’s ended up exactly where Gunwoo told him not to.

There’s no sound outside of the hum of the opened refrigerator, the golden light spills over their bare feet, up to their legs.  The soft shadows of the lights outside angle all over Seyong’s body, blurring the lines of his shoulders, fades him away.

“I only like you,” Insoo finally says, walking forward, “how I wish you liked me.”

Seyong looks at him, in the space between them there are so many questions, so many things to say but Insoo is tired of waiting and he reaches a hand to rest against the side of Seyong’s neck.

“It’s my birthday,” he says, feels like he’s a second away from stomping his foot and throwing a tantrum.

Seyong’s eyes form wider, his head tilting to the side, following the heat of Insoo’s palm, “So?” he says.

“So believe me,” he says breathlessly.

Seyong closes his eyes, hand going up to wrap around Insoo's wrist, pulling it down, tugging him closer, "just for tonight," he answers.