Archive of Our Own

No alarm clock woke Yeosang this morning, only the warm rays of the June sun. It was a rare occurrence in his life as an idol; over the years, the young man had gotten dressed at the shrill sound of his alarm clock radio, before the first rays of dawn had even appeared. On the sweetest days, it was Seonghwa who would steal him from sleep with a caress on the cheek and a kiss on the lips. And on his unluckiest days, as Yeosang put it, it was Wooyoung who would give him the most unpleasant wake-up call with a few tickles on the neck and his inimitable laugh. But this morning, there was only the calm and warmth of the sun, and the chirping of the baby birds that had hatched a few days earlier on his windowsill.

Yeosang opened his eyes slowly, closing them for a few seconds before opening them again. His eyelids fluttered for a moment to adjust to the soft light in his room. He then sat up, just as slowly, to warm the muscles in his still-sleepy body. Like a cat, he stretched his arms out in front of him to crack his back, and this simple gesture brought on a deep yawn. The blond moistened his lips with his tongue, searching for his water bottle, which he grabbed and took three large gulps of. It was one of his little rituals. When the haze of sleep finally lifted, the singer grabbed his phone to check the time.

Nine o'clock in the morning, a real lie-in in his eyes. His gaze naturally slid to the date, and his eyes lit up immediately when he realized what day it was.

June 15th.

His special day, his birthday.

Normally, Yeosang never asked for anything. It just wasn't in his nature; he didn't want to impose, he didn't want to take up too much space. Not that he didn't like the attention his boyfriends gave him, but in a polycule of eight people, he still had a little trouble judging how much space he could take up. He made up for it a little by taking care of his lovers; he enjoyed it. Yeosang was always the one who slipped a blanket under them when they fell asleep in front of a movie, who brought them a hot drink to help them wake up, who stayed quietly by their side when they needed someone's presence and some peace and quiet. But today was his exception. It was the day he could ask, demand, take up as much space as he wanted, receive as much care and love as he desired. And it was even natural, it was perfectly normal for his boyfriends to spoil Yeosang much more than usual. Because it was his birthday, it was normal to be pampered more than necessary on what was normally his day.

So, with barely contained excitement, Yeosang stood up. He pulled on the large shirt he'd stolen from Mingi, so quickly that the collar was a mess. Normally, the dancer would religiously go to the bathroom to shower and do his skincare routine before choosing the outfit that would best showcase him for the reporters and the Atiny. But this morning, he was far too eager to see his boyfriends, to see how they would spoil him. Barefoot on the warm parquet floor, Yeosang quickly crossed the corridor, almost ran down the stairs, before reaching the kitchen with the most idiotic and happy smile on his face.

He expected to see Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and maybe even that late riser Mingi in the kitchen, preparing him a delicious breakfast. He wasn't fussy in the kitchen, as long as it came from those three. Yeosang wouldn't be upset if the others weren't there; he understood their bodies needed a few more hours of sleep. But he still hoped they'd arrive soon so they could have breakfast together. Hongjoong would surely kiss his temple while caressing the small of his back, Yunho would hug him, lifting him into the air to shout "Happy Birthday" in his ear. San would be excited too, wanting to feed him with a fork while playing with his hair. Jongho would be the calmest, kissing his cheek and giving him some space that he would only fill once they were alone. And all this would only be the beginning of a day spent being pampered by his boyfriends with gestures and words, gifts throughout the day, a nice meal at lunch and dinner, maybe a small party to blow out his candles. Just him and his boyfriends, with all their love.

In the kitchen, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were already there. The captain sat at the kitchen table, a steaming cup of coffee and his laptop in front of him. Judging by his furrowed brows and that slight pursing of his lips he usually only wore in the studio, Yeosang guessed what Hongjoong was doing: he was working on music. It was really sweet, this passion the older man had for music, even if he'd been scolded more than once for getting a little too caught up in it. Seonghwa, meanwhile, had his back to the counter, brewing another pot of coffee for everyone who was still away. Quietly, Yeosang slipped between the two, his fists clenched on his knees and his eyes filled with hope. He waited to be noticed by his hyungs, to receive a kiss or a caress, at least a greeting. A minute passed, then two, then three, in silence broken only by the sound of Hongjoong's relentless typing and Seonghwa's insistent stirring of his coffee, even though he added neither sugar nor milk. Then:

"Oh, you're already up, Yeosang?" Hongjoong, glancing up for a few seconds, had finally noticed.

Yeosang nodded, his cheeks flushed with almost childlike apprehension. His boyfriend had finally noticed him, so surely he'd receive a small gesture of love, right? But nothing came; the captain immediately returned his attention to his laptop. Yeosang felt a pang of disappointment in his chest, but when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he didn't mind. He turned his attention to his other boyfriend, who was looking at him with his usual gentle smile, and hope warmed his heart.

"Are you hungry? There's some rice left over from yesterday, if you want. Enjoy it before the others arrive; those vultures will eat it all without leaving you a crumb."

The model let out a quiet laugh and turned back to the pile of dry dishes he had to put away. In doing so, he released Yeosang's shoulder. But not like a caress; it was much more sudden and much less pleasant. The younger man felt that pinch in his chest again, and his fists clenched on his thighs. He was surprised that neither of his hyungs had a word or a gesture for his birthday, no loving tenderness, no special treatment. Neither of them invited him to sit on their laps. But, to maintain his good humor, he chalked it up to tiredness.

They just woke up, Hongjoong's head in the clouds of work; they'll remember this later, he told himself.

A few silent minutes later, a noise was heard in the living room. Footsteps could be heard, footsteps that Yeosang recognized immediately. He stood up, saying nothing, simply waiting for a reaction from his hyungs, but nothing came. Neither Seonghwa nor Hongjoong seemed to notice his departure. At least, that's what Yeosang thought.

In the living room, the singer found Wooyoung and San sprawled lazily on the sofa, San's head resting on Wooyoung's shoulder. It was a sort of ritual they shared only the two of them; on their late mornings, they would sprawl in front of their favorite cooking show and critique absolutely everything, as if they themselves had a Michelin star. It was such an ingrained tradition that sometimes one or the other wasn't fully awake to watch the whole thing and ended up falling asleep again between the noodle and sushi challenges.

Yeosang advanced stealthily, his cheeks flushed with excitement. He knew those two inside and out; they would surely be the most delighted to wish him a happy birthday. After all, Yeosang spent most of his time avoiding their displays of affection, teasing them instead, so they certainly wouldn't pass up a sure-fire opportunity to spoil him without being rejected. The blond boy then squeezed between the two boys, making San groan and having to sit up to make room.

"Sangie, I was quite comfortable over there!" he said, puffing out his cheeks.

Yeosang raised his eyebrows, then narrowed his eyes and shrugged, saying innocently,

"I felt like sitting here, I'm allowed, aren't I?"
"Allowed?" repeated San, tilting his head to the side.
"No special treatment during our show, you know that!"

The older man opened his mouth to reply, but the surprise at this response robbed him of any idea of ​​a cutting and sarcastic retort. He fell silent then and sank deeper into the sofa. Beside him, he heard Wooyoung laughed. Then, he felt something soft and comfortable slide against his back. A cushion, exactly the kind of attention Wooyoung always paid to Yeosang and his comfort.

"Don't listen to him, Yeosangie, I'd rather be next to you than him!"

He chuckled a little more and put an arm around his older brother's shoulders to play with his hair. Yeosang smiled at the gesture, the tension in his body immediately leaving him. It was soft and pleasant, warm in a soothing way... but ordinary. It was the warmth of ordinary days of love, not that of his special day, his birthday. Silence returned, during which Yeosang felt his heart pounding in anticipation of a particular phrase, of at least just two little words that would say "you are special."

"Actually, Yeosang!"

Yeosang turned sharply to Wooyoung, with the quick reflex of a puppy awaiting its master's return. His heart leaped in his chest and his eyes lit up.

"Tell him that tteokbokki is better than japchae!"

The blond opened his mouth to reply.

"Stop trying to win everyone over to your side, it's pointless except for showing your lack of taste!" San cut him off.

The older man frowned, a clearly annoyed expression on his face, as his accusing eyes flicked from San to Wooyoung and back again. He finally stood up, his fists clenched under the long sleeves of his shirt, which wasn't his.

"I'm going to take a shower."

And he turned on his heel without a second thought, without even noticing San biting his lip guilty and Wooyoung rubbing his back comfortingly.

In the hallway where the shower was located, Yeosang shuffled, clearly dejected. He walked slowly, staring at his feet, a heart-wrenching sigh escaping him against his will. He didn't want to be angry with his boyfriends; San and Wooyoung were like that, often in their own worlds, it wasn't such a big deal. Besides, he'd interrupted their cuddle ritual in front of Master Cook; they weren't in the mood for his birthday. But still, he was upset, because he too would have liked to at least rest his head on their shoulder, or a simple word of love.

At the end of the hallway, emerging dressed only in sweatpants and still rubbing his hair with a short towel, Mingi peeked out. Seeing him, Yeosang smiled again. The gentle giant was always the most alert, full of small, discreet attentions for their polycule; there wasn't a world he could have forgotten. Yeosang stepped forward then, confident and with a new wave of excitement, almost reaching out to snuggle into his boyfriend's warm embrace. Seeing him, Mingi smiled quietly.

"Hi, Yeosang. You're lucky, I just finished, it's free."

He stopped as he said this, waiting for Yeosang to join him so he could tenderly kiss his forehead. The blond noted the gesture, full of love but still a little strange. Since when did Mingi only kiss foreheads and not lips?

"Is there still hot water?"

Yeosang wasn't really sure why he asked for that since there was still hot water. Maybe he was asking to keep the rapper with him a little longer, to give him more time to kiss him or remember his birthday. But Mingi scratched the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.

"Well... when I turned off the water, it was a little lukewarm.."

The singer's face fell. He hadn't received a single kiss, a single word, a single special remark, and now he wouldn't even get hot water? This was definitely the worst start to his birthday in his entire life.

"You're pushing it..." he complained, even more dejected.
"Sorry, hyung, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

The hyung shrugged, not even having the energy to ask when or how, or to make one of his trademark little jokes. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Mingi took a step to the side. 2

"I'll-"
"Wait, Mingi!" Yeosang called out to him.

The taller boy turned to the blond, his head tilted to the side in a clearly stressed pout, as if he were about to do or say something stupid by staying too close to Yeosang.

"What day is it?"
"Uh..."

Mingi rolled his eyes, a finger on his chin, and Yeosang's impatient gaze was fixed on him.

"The quiz, I think, why?"

Another silence during which the two lovers looked straight into each other's eyes, before Yeosang shook his head, his face darkening with disappointment.

"Just wondering."
"You know now, cool!"

Mingi's jaw tightened, as if his body knew that this sentence might have been one too many. So, without another word to the singer, he fled to the safety of his room, leaving the bathroom to a rather dejected Yeosang.

In the bathroom, Yeosang sighed again, his back against the wall. Mingi had also just woken up; he'd just gotten out of the shower, so his mind was probably still elsewhere, right? In his thoughts, in music, maybe something else. He couldn't blame him, or the others. Even if his other boyfriends had all been spoiled rotten on their birthdays, maybe his just happened to fall on a day when they were all a little absent-minded. It wasn't such a big deal; they'd remember it later. In the meantime, the singer took a long, lukewarm shower, soothing his ears with his favorite music and pampering his skin with his best products. When he came out, he dressed simply, in loose pants and a fitted tank top. He wasn't in the mood to bother with a sophisticated look for staying home, especially not after spending weeks non-stop being dressed like a doll by the stylists.

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After spending some time in his room playing some video game, it was already time to eat. This was, once again, one of the rules of their polycule: on days off, a fixed mealtime was set so that everyone could eat together. Wooyoung had laughed at first, saying they didn't already spend enough time together. Unsurprisingly, he had been scolded.

Yeosang, on the other hand, loved this reassuring and oh-so-normal, domestic ritual. But once at the table, Yeosang almost regretted not being able to eat lunch alone.

It had started with Yunho and Jongho, both cooking. The older of the two was cooking something Yeosang couldn't quite identify, and the younger one was chopping vegetables and putting them all in a bowl, presumably to make a salad. It was quite hot today; some cold food felt wonderful. When the singer joined them, he gave them a gentle smile and a wave.

"Hi Yunho, hi Jongho."
"Hi, hyung." Jongho didn't even look up to greet him.

The blond pouted, approached Yunho from behind, wrapped his hands around his slim waist, and pressed his forehead against his back. He was reaching a point where he desperately needed warmth and comfort, and the older one was still an endless source of attention. But instead of turning around and embracing him in turn, holding Yeosang close and kissing his entire face while whispering sweet nothings, as he usually would have done, Yunho pushed him away. Turning abruptly and stretching his long arms out to create an infinite distance, the older man frowned.

"Don't go near the stove, Yeosang-ah! You'll make a disaster, and today's not the day to mess it up!"

The younger man's heart skipped a beat, and hope crept back into his heart, pushing aside the disappointment of being rejected.

"Not today? Why?" he said innocently.

He must be cooking my favorite meal, he thought, for my birthday!

"I'm training for a cooking show. Filming is in five days, so I can't miss any opportunity to train!"
"I..." Yeosang didn't even know what to say, so, in desperation, he turned his head toward Jongho.

The maknae looked up to meet Yeosang's gaze and shrugged with utter indifference before crossing his arms over his chest.

"His competitive ass hasn't quite grasped the rules of competing with his current level. He's been making me eat the same meal for two weeks."
"I heard that!" shouted Yunho, who had already turned back to the stovetop. "If I train, my new level will become my current level, so I'm not cheating!"
"Yeah, yeah, right.."

Silence returned, and Yeosang didn't really have the desire or motivation to reignite the debate that the two men seemed to have been having for far too long. He then let Yunho cook with complete concentration and moved closer to Jongho, his cheeks flushed and a shy smile on his lips.

"Jongho, can I sit on your lap while we wait for the meal?"

The younger man's face fell, and he scratched the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile, carefully avoiding his lover's gaze as if refusing would cost him dearly.

"My knee hurts quite a bit today, I must have overdone at the gym yesterday, so..."
"I see." Yeosang interrupted. "I'll avoid killing you then. Hongjoong wouldn't punish me leniently if I sidelined you for the comeback."

The blond boy chuckled, a hand covering his mouth in his usual tic, even though his heart wasn't really in it. Jongho followed suit with an embarrassed laugh but didn't respond, hearing the footsteps of their boyfriends who were all arriving for the meal, but also to get him out of this dangerous situation.

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The atmosphere at the meal wasn't bad, no, it was simply normal. Seonghwa and Yunho were talking about the latest series they were watching together, Hongjoong was eating with one eye on his cell phone while listening attentively as Mingi told him about his new solo album. San was teasing Jongho by trying to feed him himself, Wooyoung was making fun of them. And Yeosang, he was there. He listened to the various conversations, without really participating. He felt that painful pinch in his chest again, as if his heart was clenching in the wrong place.

"Are you all right, Yeosang?"

It was San's soft, attentive voice, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Yeosang turned his attention to him and nodded.

"Yes, perfectly fine."
"That's good." The dancer smiled, before giving his full attention back to Yunho, who was waiting for him with a look of abandoned dog on his face.

The rest of the meal continued quietly, the conversations becoming less scattered so that all the boys at the table were chatting together. It was nice, really nice. It was sweet and warm, like meals together were supposed to be. But again, it wasn't special, it wasn't his meal of the day, it was a meal of a day. Yeosang laughed at the right moments, responded when spoken to, but a part of him wasn't genuinely enjoying this time with his boyfriends.

And the worst part was that he was stuck with dishwashing duty. Because Mr. Wooyoung had something important to do in town and none of the others had wanted to take his turn. Yeosang then found himself with those unpleasant rubber gloves tightly clamped onto his fingers, scrubbing plates, bowls, and dishes. The movements were automatic, as his thoughts drifted back to his lovers. The excitement of the morning, the anticipation of being spoiled, had now been completely replaced by disappointment.

He had seven boyfriends and not a single one had remembered his birthday. Yeosang sincerely wanted not to be sad, not to hold a grudge, but it was stronger than him. He was disappointed and thought this day was completely crap. Would he forget their birthday? Well, it was true that he was unable to list the days when asked, but the D-Day, he had never forgotten. And had they forgotten the other birthdays? No, they hadn't either. The treatment from the agency, the fans, and now his boyfriends... why was everything so different with him?

As he headed back to his room, Yeosang paused for a few seconds in front of Seonghwa's door, biting his lower lip. He wanted to give him another chance, even though he knew it was pure masochism at this point. He knocked then, almost weakly, as if part of him didn't expect an answer to avoid another potential disappointment. But the older man had keen hearing.

"You can come in!"

What the blond did. He took one step, then another, and another, until he found himself face to face with Seonghwa. The brunette was watching a YouTube tutorial on some new products he'd recently bought, a soaked sheet mask on his face. He patted him beside him, inviting his boyfriend to sit down, which Yeosang did, though he kept a certain distance. His desire for hugs and affection had slowly disintegrated over the course of the day and the neglect he'd endured. The younger man sat in silence, simply watching the images scroll across the screen, the voice explaining the miraculous benefits this cream or serum had that others didn't. It was interesting, he couldn't deny it, but it wasn't really what he wanted.

Seonghwa turned to him, a smile on his face despite the mask that froze all his facial expressions.

"Do you want to try it?"

The singer remained silent for a few seconds, weighing the pros and cons. Saying yes would finally mean spending quality time with his hyung, a moment alone together and being pampered a little, but it would also mean accepting that he had forgotten such an important day, the day you thank someone for being born. And saying no... would it be hypocritical if he said no?

Shit, Yeosang thought. In the end, he would say no, he would think of himself and do something he truly wanted to do, not out of spite while nibbling at crumbs of affection. He had decided that this afternoon he would go skateboarding and would be unavailable no matter who needed him or why.

"No thanks, hyung."

Without further ado, he stood up and turned his back on his boyfriend to return to his room. In the comfort of his own space, he packed a bag with his things and grabbed his skateboard before heading out a few minutes later. To leave the dorm, he had to go through the common room, where everyone was. He shrugged, thinking that no one would pay any attention to him anyway.

And, indeed, no one did. In the common room, everyone was doing their own thing, all together but each on their own. Hongjoong was still glued to his damn laptop, San and Yunho were making silly TikToks, Mingi was playing a game on her phone, Wooyoung seemed to be sleeping with his head resting on Jongho's lap, while Jongho watched TV. Yeosang frowned and wanted to leave just like that, without saying a word to avoid the stares and questions. But that was another rule of their polycule: always say goodbye when you leave, and what you're going to do, because you never know when it will be the last time. A rule that had emerged during Mingi's hiatus, when his anxiety was so intense that he imagined all his boyfriends leaving without a word and living their love far from him. The blond sighed then, his fingers gripping his wooden board.

"I'm going out skateboarding."

The men looked up at him, and Yeosang knew from the twitch of San's eyebrow that he was forcing himself to maintain a neutral expression.

"Are you sure?" Hongjoong began. "You look tired."

Yeosang shook his head, almost annoyed that this was the only thing worrying Hongjoong.

I'm fine, I just need some air."

"Okay..." Yunho. "Don't come home late, okay?"

Mingi and Jongho didn't add anything, but Yeosang felt their gaze upon him, as if their weight could make him accept it more quickly. He nodded, then turned his head and jumped into his shoes, before closing the door behind him.

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It wasn't long before he arrived at the skatepark, the same one he'd been going to since his early trainee years. By bus, it was only about twenty minutes from the dorm; with a little music in his ears, it only lasted a few seconds. Yeosang felt like he could breathe again once he arrived; the smell of hot concrete filled his nostrils. He recognized the comforting sound of wheels on the ramps, the whistling of the wind when someone picked up speed, the loud clacking of wheels on the ground. Yeosang knew the place; it had a calming side.

After putting on his helmet and placing his bag near a graffiti-covered bench, the blond boy almost jumped onto his skateboard, going downhill. The wind whipped his hair against his ears and nearly stung his eyes, but he didn't care. He continued his movements, linking them together with precision, because he knew them by heart.

They were etched into his body and his memories, like a choreography he'd performed on stage for years, so they flowed naturally. His mind switched off, and his body alone decided. And, in the speed, the anger gradually faded. He thought a little less about his boyfriends, about his birthday; he felt a little less sad, less alone. It wasn't complete; part of his subconscious knew why he was there and not in a pile of hugs, being smothered with love by seven idiots, so his body still felt a little sad. But the sound of his wheels on the concrete was loud enough that he heard his troubled thoughts a little less.

After an hour, Yeosang decided to take a break. He went back to the bench he'd been monopolizing and sat down. He put his helmet down, ran a hand through his sweaty hair to slick it back, and let his gaze wander over the world around him. Over the people milling about. There was a couple nearby; the girl was teaching her boyfriend how not to fall off his skateboard. A group of friends were showing off their new BMX tricks. There was even someone on rollerblades—a rare sight, and quite amusing. And there was that little boy trying an ollie but failing, running into his father's arms for comfort, and then immediately trying again. When he finally succeeded, his father applauded. And the little boy erupted with joy, jumping and celebrating. He was showing his dad how happy he was to be praised.

It was stupid, but it made Yeosang a little jealous.

Not just of that boy, maybe of pretty much everyone there. Because they all had someone to watch them, to congratulate them, and to spend time with them.

The light in the sky dimmed slightly, the day gently fading away as thoughts returned. Yeosang picked up his board and went back to riding. This time, it was slower, as if his energy stemmed from melancholy. The singer made a few simple movements, but nothing impressive; he didn't even attempt any tricks. He just wanted to let himself be carried by the wind, to feel it on his cheeks and in his hair, to feel the slight chill of a breeze nibble at his skin. He thought about his limbs, too, but not with anger. The anger had been lost in the wind, along with the sadness of someone who felt invisible on the day he most wanted to be seen.

And so the self-flagellation arrived, as if it resided in that cold draft that slipped through the singer's blond locks, or in the joy of that little boy who had reminded him of something important: Yeosang was always the one who pushed others away. He then cursed himself for always rejecting his boyfriends and their affection, for avoiding San's kisses, Wooyoung's hugs, for never shaking Mingi's hand. Perhaps that was why no one had wished him a happy birthday? Perhaps his boyfriends were simply tired of giving him love and not feeling like they received any in return? Perhaps it was a punishment for not cherishing them enough? But it was stronger than him; he was afraid of taking up too much space, of creating problems, of disappointing them as he had already done enough in his life. He didn't want to take so much of their love that they wouldn't have any left to give to others. He didn't want to be too greedy, too presumptuous, and encroach on the love they could give each other.

He sighed deeply. It was his fault too, for not telling them he wanted to be pampered today. Yeosang paused, blinking as he picked up his skateboard. That was true. He'd never told them he liked being pampered and cherished. He assumed it was natural for his boyfriends to do that, but what if, on this day, they were the ones who didn't want to bother him? He'd never told them what he liked, what he hoped for, not for his birthday, not for any other day. And they weren't inside his head, obviously they couldn't know if he never said anything, right? If he'd spent their entire relationship giving the impression of being a reserved guy who valued his peace and quiet, what better gift could his boyfriends have given him than, well, leaving him alone?

Yeosang froze at this realization, his heart pounding with a mixture of relief and guilt. If this situation was partly his fault, then he wanted to be brave and put an end to it. There was still some time left on his birthday, maybe they could all still celebrate together. So, he ran as fast as he could to the bus stop to go back to the dorm. He wanted to see his boyfriends and be honest with them, so his birthday would end better than it had begun. But he hadn't paid attention to the time, not even when silence settled around him. It was late, late enough that the buses had completely stopped running and he had to call a taxi. A taxi that he was never able to reach, much to his despair.

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He got home more than an hour later, after a very long walk, occasionally interrupted by short stretches on his skateboard. Standing in front of the door, he looked at his phone for the first time that afternoon and sighed when he saw the time. Almost midnight; he'd really been out late. A pang of guilt gripped his heart when he noticed all the missed calls and messages from his boyfriends. They hadn't stopped asking him when he'd be home, if anything had happened. He sighed, feeling dejected again at the thought of the monumental scolding he'd get in the morning. At this hour, they were probably all asleep.

The blond boy then tiptoed back inside so as not to wake anyone, afraid of slamming the door. He carefully leaned his skateboard against the wall and took off his shoes. He also put his bag on the floor before turning on the living room light. He was intrigued to hear the distinctive grunt Mingi made when his sleep was disturbed enough to make him react, but not enough to wake him. He then lifted his face from his feet and his eyes opened wide, his pupils shining with surprise at the scene that had awaited him all this time.

His boyfriends, all seven of them , asleep scattered throughout the living room. A living room decorated as if for a party, with balloons filled with confetti, a birthday banner, and colorful paper streamers everywhere. His eyes drifted naturally to the dining table, unconsciously, where he found a detail that made him purse his lips: a cake with twenty-seven unlit candles. He understood that his life partners had waited for him for a long time before falling asleep, each in a position more uncomfortable than the last. Yeosang's attention shifted to them, to each one of them, with a tearful glint in his eyes. The emotion of someone who had expected to return to a cold, empty house.

But they were all there. First, there was Hongjoong, curled up in his brown velvet armchair in a position that would surely leave him with severe aches and pains the next day, clutching a small box tightly in one hand and a pencil in the other. Yeosang guessed he'd fallen asleep trying to find the right words for a birthday letter. Seonghwa was nearby, elegantly reclining on the sofa as if absolutely nothing in this world could diminish his natural beauty, a box carefully wrapped in purple paper across his stomach, held in his hands with the intention of protecting its contents at all costs. On the huge rug at the foot of the sofa, Yunho slept on his back, stretched out as if on the most comfortable mattress, another box right beside him. Wooyoung, meanwhile, had half fallen out of his armchair, his head hanging off the edge with the promise of a stiff neck when he woke up, the gift clutched to his chest like a security blanket. On the other side of the room, San had fallen asleep cross-legged, leaning against a wall with perfect balance that truly astonished Yeosang. He had his arms crossed over his chest, and he too had a gift placed between his legs. Right next to them, Mingi was sprawled on a pouf, arms outstretched as if patiently awaiting death, which made the blond boy chuckle. The gift he had prepared rested on his chest, rising and falling gently with the rapper's breathing. At his feet was Jongho. Literally. The younger boy was asleep curled up, his head resting on Mingi's feet, and Yeosang wasn't sure if he'd used them as a pillow before or after falling asleep. But what was certain was that he, too, had a small box in his hands.

Yeosang's moist eyes swept over each of his boyfriends, gazing at each with the greatest tenderness he could muster. He slowly realized that the whole day had been a huge misunderstanding, that they hadn't forgotten but had wanted to surprise him. They had planned everything, pretended, held on, waited. The relief was almost physical; Yeosang felt his body relax, his heart lighten, the weight in his chest and the knot in his stomach disappear. It was as if he felt lighter, less alone, until he felt warm all over. Then, after the tenderness of realization, shame caught up with him. He bit his lip, realizing he had doubted them, cursed them for nothing, thought horrible things because he had been hurt when such a lovely surprise awaited him at home. But, surprisingly, among all these conflicting feelings, one stood out more than the others: the immense and overflowing love he felt for those seven idiots.

Having found the courage to take a step without fearing he would shatter this magnificent tableau, Yeosang approached the scene, no longer just a spectator, but an actor. His steps weren't timid; they were cautious but confident. He knew what he wanted to do, otherwise he wouldn't be able to fall asleep. He approached, first Hongjoong, before whom he leaned to place a kiss on the lips, before whispering:

"You did a good job again, thank you."

Then, he naturally slid towards Seonghwa. He took a moment to look at him, then buried his nose in his hair to smell his shampoo, and placed a kiss there.

"Goodnight, Sleeping Beauty."

To reach Yunho, Yeosang knelt down, suppressing a chuckle at the sight of him sleeping like a baby. He kissed his fingers, then placed them on the taller man's lips. A sideways kiss was their little trick, finding ways to give each other sideways kisses all day long.

"He really looks like a puppy, so cute."

He stood up gently to get closer to Wooyoung and resisted the overwhelming urge to pinch his nose or cheeks. He had that goofy smile of a man who's planned the stupidest thing ever, the kind that makes Yeosang want to crush his face in his hands. And it was absolutely not an outpouring of love for the mastermind behind this evil plan. But Wooyoung still got his kiss on the forehead, since his lips were slightly parted.

"Tomorrow you'll have a terrible headache, and you'll deserve it."

He then approached San, still on tiptoe, and looked at him for a few seconds. His head had fallen forward, so the blond kissed the top of his head with all the tenderness his boyfriend loved so much.

"Thanks for keeping the secret, even though I'm sure you would have cracked if I hadn't gone out."

He then straightened up to slowly approach Mingi and couldn't help but laugh again at his current position: that of a beautiful, large starfish sliding off its pouf to join the ocean. He too received a rather special kiss, one that the rapper adored. Yeosang rubbed the tip of his nose against his boyfriend's, his cheeks flushed from the gentle touch, and he laughed again when he heard the taller man sigh contentedly in his sleep.

"Be careful and don't fall, you'll hurt yourself." A short silence. "And I know you would have cracked too."

For the last of his boyfriends, the blond only had to kneel down to stroke his hair, before carefully kissing his temple. He knew Jongho was the lightest sleeper of all, so he was careful not to accidentally wake him. He smiled as he sat up, not feeling a single movement from the singer, but seeing him smiling in his sleep as well.

"I bet you were the last one to fall asleep, my strong baby. Get some rest now, okay?"

Yeosang got back to his feet, completely satisfied that he had been able to greet everyone without waking them. He turned, lighthearted, toward the dining table where a cake, its cream seriously dripping, awaited him. He sighed, not annoyed but amused, and couldn't resist blowing out the unlit candles. It was more symbolic than anything else, because they had all gone to a lot of trouble for this party. Finally, after putting the cake back in the fridge, Yeosang turned on his heel for good and went back to his room. He took a quick, quiet shower before slipping under his covers and closing his eyes. Hugging the teddy bear pillow that Jongho had given him a few years ago, Yeosang was sure he would have the sweetest dreams tonight.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

The alarm was loud.

More precisely, the alarm was Mingi.

Mingi burst through Yeosang's door with a tremendous crash, possessing the energy of a husky that had had time to brood over its frustration for hours, and entered shouting:

"Kang Yeosang, you traitor! You left us sleeping on the floor!"

The older man opened one eye, then the other, almost used to his boyfriend's emotional storms and being regularly woken by the commotion. It almost brought a smile to his face. Mingi was now standing in the middle of the room, hair a mess and dark circles under his eyes, staring at Yeosang as if he were the very reason why his existence offended him so much.

"You came home at some ungodly hour, you saw us sleeping in the living room like miserable little things, and you went to sleep in your soft, comfortable bed without even waking us?!" he continued to complain

"Hi, Mingi." Yeosang looked a little amused.
"Don't just hi me like it's nothing!"

Noises echoed from the hallway before the door opened fully, letting the others in. One by one, they filled Yeosang's room as if it were partly their own. First came Wooyoung, his eyes half-closed and a blanket still draped around his shoulders. San held him by one arm, guiding him. San looked perfectly fine, but wore an adorable pout. Yunho arrived right behind him, rolling his hips in the hopes of making him crack, then Hongjoong grumbled something incomprehensible and tired, rubbing his neck. Next was Seonghwa, who, unsurprisingly, was the epitome of beauty, even after a short night, in a rather uncomfortable position. Jongho brought up the rear, trying to maintain a dignified expression, even though Yeosang could sense his dignity wounded by the way he looked at him.

Yeosang sat up in bed but did not insult them by stretching quietly after the wonderful night he had spent in his bed. No, he preferred to watch them huddle together, their faces crestfallen and their bodies slumped, and he sincerely thought it might be one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. But that was surely because he was simply too in love.

"You're sulking." He laughed without waiting for another word.
"That's not even true." Seonghwa replied with the peculiar dignity of a man who's sulking.

Yeosang heard Jongho sniffle and looked up at him.

"We're disappointed."

The blond singer bit his lip to keep from laughing even more. They were totally sulking.

"My hips are in a million pieces!" Yunho announced as if it were a charge in a trial, supported by Mingi who nodded vigorously, gesturing to their boyfriend's hips with her hands. "Sangie!" San called, and there was something plaintive in his voice. "We've been waiting for you! For hours! We got everything ready when you left, and we rushed because we really thought you'd be back soon! We had everything ready, the candles, the balloons, the presents and everything and-"
"And we fell asleep super early." Wooyoung interrupted flatly. San glared at him.
"Because you said we're just going to lie down for a minute!"
"It's a super well-known concept for getting better!" He defended himself.
"Wooyoung, San..." Seonghwa tried to calm them down, without much success.
"Besides, you were the one who fell asleep first!" Wooyoung accused.
"That's not true!" San chimed in, as the two moved closer, frowning like two roosters ready to fight over the same hen.
"You're so cute."

Seven pairs of surprised eyes turned toward the deep voice: Yeosang. And there was a long silence, surely as they all tried to figure out if it was sincere or laced with sarcasm.

"You're all so cute." He repeated, his voice taking on that warm, slightly amused tone he reserved for moments when his boyfriends were simultaneously ridiculous and adorable. "I had a bad day because I thought you all forgot my birthday. I cursed you so much, I was so sad because I felt left out. That's why I went skateboarding, because I was so hurt. And when I came home, I saw the living room decorated, the cake with unlit candles, and all of you snoring everywhere and—"
"I don't snore." Hongjoong interrupted, who until then had simply watched everyone bustling about.
"And I thought, damn, I love them so much, but they're so stupid. You kept the secret all day; I didn't even know it was possible for you to pull it off. Especially you." He said, looking at San.
"Hey!"
"And you." It was directed at Mingi this time. "When I asked you what day it was, I saw your eye twitch."
"I have perfect control over my face."
"No one in this room controls their face."

Yeosang chuckled. There was a moment, brief and sweet, when no one said anything. And in that silence, Yeosang saw something heavy and useless that he'd been carrying since the day before finally slide off his shoulders and disappear completely.

It was Hongjoong who spoke first. Not with his leader's words, not with his captain's authority, only as Kim Hongjoong, a boy very much in love with Yeosang and aware of the pain they had all caused him yesterday.

"We could have managed the timing better." He paused and fixed his gaze on the blond's hazel eyes, with that particular intensity he reserved only for important moments. "We left you in the dark for too long. I should have been more attentive to how you were feeling, not complacent with what we had planned without consulting you. I should have prioritized you and your feelings. We didn't want to hurt you, just surprise you, I'm sorry Yeosang."
"We shouldn't have planned the surprise for the evening when we were all under the same roof, it was stupid." Yunho added, scratching the back of his neck with an expression he didn't often wear.

Wooyoung detached himself from the group and came to sit on the edge of the bed, very close to Yeosang, with the familiarity of someone who had been doing this for years. He looked at him, really, truly, with that direct, piercing gaze that Yeosang wouldn't have tolerated from anyone else, and said:

"You thought we didn't love you anymore."

It wasn't a question, and the blond didn't answer right away. He stared at his hands, played with his fingers, before Wooyoung came and intertwined them with his.

Yeosang looked at them as if in realization, focusing on the soothing sensation of the brunet's thumb caressing his skin, on the warmth it gave him each time.

"A little." He admitted.
"All day?"
"Most of it." He looked up. "I shouldn't have sulked in my corner, I should have talked to you, told you I was sad, asked you if you'd really forgotten my birthday. I really wanted to be spoiled yesterday, I really enjoy it, even if I show otherwise."

Wooyoung didn't take his eyes off him, looking at him without surprise, nor triumph. Just with that sincere and slightly stubborn tenderness he'd felt for Yeosang since they met.

"Thanks for telling us, even though we already knew."

Yeosang laughed, a small laugh, his eyes stinging a little, and Wooyoung smiled with a look that was both loving and guilty.

"Sorry, Yeosang. We just wanted to surprise you, because we love you so much."

Yeosang looked at the younger boy, his best friend for about ten years, his boyfriend for almost as long. His first boyfriend, his first love, his first everything. And since it was Wooyoung telling him all this, the blond boy couldn't help but believe him.

"It's okay."
"Are you sure?" Wooyoung asked softly.
"Yes." He nodded, calm, sure. "Because the living room was beautiful, you're all idiots, and you all slept on the floor."
"In appallingly uncomfortable conditions that will leave us with lifelong consequences." Mingi insisted, clearly resentful of being punished. And he received a light tap on the head from Jongho, who shook his head.
"Don't overdo it."

Seonghwa then stepped forward silently and placed a warm, comforting hand on Yeosang's cheek, then stroked it as if the youngest was the most precious person in the world. He smiled at him gently, and it made the blond's heart beat a little faster.

"Happy belated birthday, Yeosang." He said simply, lovingly.

And the others followed. Not all at once, not in a big dramatic chorus, but one after another and in their own way. Hongjoong stepped forward first, briefly placed a hand on the back of Yeosang's neck, and said simply:

"Happy birthday." Three words, but with the weight of someone who had spent the night searching for the right ones.

Yunho wasn't subtle, he wasn't capable of it that morning. He opened his arms wide and declared:

"Happy birthday!" with a smile so wide it crinkled his eyes, and Jongho had to grab his elbow to stop him from lifting Yeosang out of bed.
"Happy birthday, jagiya." Jongho said in turn, calmly, looking Yeosang straight in the eye. Not another word, but Yeosang knew exactly how sincere his baby bear was being. He was the most reserved in public, but he had no doubt he would be much loved when they had a little privacy.

San was also gentler, smiling at Yeosang with all the love in his heart. He whispered a happy birthday in his ear, accompanied by a kiss on his temple. Something warm and comforting, which is what San had always been to Yeosang.

Mingi, meanwhile, took a deep breath, clapped twice to set a rhythm, and launched into an improvised happy birthday song, somewhere between a rap and a nursery rhyme, ridiculous enough to make Yeosang laugh out loud.

And lastly, Wooyoung, still sitting next to Yeosang, patiently waited for everyone to finish before leaning towards his boyfriend and stealing a kiss as chaste as it was full of love. And he whispered right against his lips.

"Happy birthday, love, we could never have forgotten you."

Yeosang laughed, his eyes closed, unable to hide his smile, his face lit up with happiness. He could still feel Wooyoung's lips against his, still hear Mingi's incredible performance in the back of his mind, feel the weight of six other people in this small room that wasn't meant for it. It was noisy, a little stifling, and exactly what he had needed since yesterday morning. How could he have been so miserable yesterday and so fulfilled today? His boyfriends truly were his whole life.

"Is the cake still in the fridge?" he asked
"The candles are not lit but still on them." Hongjoong confirmed.
"And nobody damaged their presents in his sleep!" Yunho declared proudly, having bet his entire fortune that their captain would have woken up to find his gift destroyed.
"Let's get the cake out and light the candles!" Mingi announced loudly as he straightened up from the wall with boundless energy. "Come on, everyone to the living room, and faster than that! We're doing this now, we have a birthday to catch up on, twenty-four hours late!"
"Only twelve." Jongho corrected him.
"That's already too much!" the tall rapper replied in a horrified tone. "We'll sing 'Happy Birthday' and eat this cake that cost an arm and a leg, and then Yeosang can open his presents! We can play with it a little or not, and either way, we'll give him the best belated birthday of his life!"

No one really answered, but they came out one after the other in a joyful, familiar hubbub led by Mingi, who led the procession with the authority of a self-proclaimed master of ceremonies; Yunho, who narrowly avoided the door frame; Hongjoong, who walked on without paying attention to Seonghwa, who was tidying his hair; San and Wooyoung, who were still arguing in low voices about who had fallen asleep first; and Jongho, who stopped in the hallway to wait for the blond and carried him to the living room like a princess, having failed to take him on her lap the day before.

Yeosang stayed in his room for another second. He put his feet on the floor, looked at his hands, and thought back to yesterday. His sadness, his resentment, the feeling of being neglected, his boyfriends' silence, his long hours skating, the decorated living room, and the cake they hadn't even put in the fridge before falling asleep while waiting for him. He laughed, full of tenderness, amused by the situation, and got up with a happy, goofy grin to join his family.

It might not have been his birthday anymore, but, surrounded by the love of his boyfriends, this day was still shaping up to be the best of his life. And tonight, he would make sure to thank them properly, to express his gratitude and love, to explain that even though receiving so much love made him shy, it also made him really very happy.