Jun-seo woke up to warmth.
Too much warmth.
His first thought: Why is my blanket breathing?
His second: Oh god.
He opened one eye.
There, just inches away, was Kwang-su—sound asleep, mouth slightly open, hair a mess, arm casually thrown across Jun-seo's waist like he owned him.
Jun-seo froze.
Absolutely, completely
Okay okay okay, his brain screamed, how did this happen? Why is his arm there? Why is his face this close? And why does it not feel... terrible?!
He reached down and tried to lift Kwang-su's arm like it was a radioactive noodle, but Kwang-su groaned softly and pulled him closer.
What the hell.
Jun-seo hissed under his breath. "Kwang-su. Wake. Up."
Kwang-su stirred, one eye cracking open. "Mmph. Morning, Bread Boy…"
Jun-seo's entire soul left his body. "Don't call me that right now. Move!"
Kwang-su blinked, realized the position, and immediately rolled away like the couch was on fire. "Whoa—sorry! That's—that's not what it looks like!"
"You were spooning me!"
"I was asleep!"
"You smiled in your sleep!"
Kwang-su looked scandalized. "I did not."
"You did! You looked like you were having a good dream!"
"I probably dreamed I wasn't trapped in a bakery with an angry chipmunk."
Jun-seo grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. Kwang-su laughed—actually laughed—and it echoed in the quiet bakery like a spark.
But once the chaos faded, an awkward silence settled.
Jun-seo stood up first, brushing flour off his shirt again. "Whatever. It was just sleep. It didn't mean anything."
"Right. Nothing," Kwang-su echoed.
But the way he looked at Jun-seo... like he wanted to say something else... told a different story.
They didn't talk much during cleanup.
But when Jun-seo passed Kwang-su a tray of warm pastries, their fingers brushed.
Kwang-su didn't let go right away.
Jun-seo didn't pull away.
They looked at each other for a second too long.
Just a second.
Then Jun-seo mumbled, "Go set up the counter, idiot."
And Kwang-su grinned.