❋

His first thought that morning was that it was Tuesday, and he didn’t have class until eight. Kyungsoo woke up to his standard alarm noise, an incessant beeping that chose to ring in his head all day as he studied. He wasn’t going to study today, he told himself. Not until evening, after class.

He got up, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. His foot pressed onto something painful and he let out a sharp breath of pain. A highlighter. There were many of them, peppered around his floor along with the textbooks that carpeted it. His room was usually tidy, but occasionally, he’d wake up in an unsightly position to see a mess of binders and yesterday’s notes spread around the floor in the same way he’d studied them.

It was a bad habit of his, but he liked to study on the floor. He’d been up late, but he was never the type to sleep in. Sleeping in was for Saturdays. Tuesdays were supposed to be active.

His house was silent again – it had been like this for a couple months. He wondered what his roommate was doing. Tip-toeing around the textbook obstacles, he poked his head out the door and frowned.

Jongdae was sleeping on the staircase, with his lower half folded into three steps, and the upper half of his body resting in the carpeted floor of the second story. He was curled up oddly, using his arms as a pillow.

Kyungsoo yawned and poked Jongdae’s cheek with his toes. “Hey…” he tried.

No reaction.

“Jongdae-ah, get up,” Kyungsoo groaned. “We need to make breakfast…” He was tired too, but today was important. “Baekhyun’s coming.”

His roommate grumbled something about “…two can play at this game…lousy skunk…” Jongdae dipped his head slightly before shooting up, nearly falling off the stairs. He was lucky Kyungsoo quickly bent down and grabbed his collar, heaving him into balance. Jongdae yawned as he talked. “Who’s coming?”

“Baekhyun. The neighbor.” Kyungsoo said. “Wash your face.”

Jongdae groaned. “Okay. Baekhyun’s our neighbor?” He started to stand, stretching as he made his way to his room, which was a door down from Kyungsoo’s. Separated by a pantry where they kept towels and extra pillows.

“Yes.”

“He must’ve moved in upstairs, then.”

“That’s not the point. Fix your face.” Kyungsoo started down the stairs, rolling his shoulders back in pain. Both he and his roommate woke up in ungodly positions.

The main floor of their house had a kitchen that Kyungsoo was proud to say he’d set up himself. It had white tiles and dark wooden cupboards, a dishwasher and a spotless oven. There were three counters, one with a toaster and microwave and knife set, another clear for cooking procedures, and the last one, facing the living room, decorated with a collection of cookbooks.

While he went through the little breakfast book, he could hear the rush of water upstairs, meaning Jongdae was showering. Kyungsoo yawned again, and before he could yawn a third time, he washed down the sleepiness in his lungs with water.

He thought about Baekhyun, the man who helped him yesterday, and he smiled. He wondered if the puppy would be eating with them too. It was almost nine right now, so he figured Baekhyun would be here before ten.

He settled on the classics: toast, eggs, bacon and English breakfast tea, maybe some fruit to keep the options open.

Jongdae hopped into the kitchen in a different hoodie from the one he’d woken up in, clean shorts and a towel wrapped around his head like a turban. He was looking down at his phone while walking around the counter.

“You got this, Lu.” Jongdae snickered.

Kyungsoo rubbed his eyes. “Are you meddling again?” He asked, genuinely curious.

Jongdae stopped, slanted his lips and cocked his head as if to ponder whether or not he really was. “Well, I wouldn’t call it meddling.”

“Matchmaking.” Kyungsoo stated, because that was the term Jongdae preferred. He sighed, and figured it was okay as long as no one got hurt. The thought crossed him that maybe his roommate had tried matchmaking him, too, but he shrugged it off as impossible and finished laying out the ingredients for breakfast. Jongdae giggled.

“What’s on the menu, chef?” Jongdae put his phone down.

“You make the toast and tea,” Kyungsoo said, turning on the stove. “I’ll make the eggs and bacon.”

“Gotcha.”

They cooked in harmony, Kyungsoo cracking eggs in a pan and letting them fry as he passed the eggshells to Jongdae, who was closer to the garbage can and threw them out. Jongdae toasted the bread and boiled the water for the tea while setting the table, occasionally asking Kyungsoo to pass the plates.

Their house was simple. Two floors, completely carpeted, well furnished with a living room and dining room, three bedrooms, four bathrooms, and a well-mowed lawn to show off how well they operated.

It was the definition of a well-taken home, and it’s owners, a perfectly functional family of sorts.

Kyungsoo cleared his throat. “I don’t know when Baekhyun will be here.”

“Don’t worry, I have his number. I’ll ask.”

“You…” Kyungsoo nodded. “You have his number?”

“Yeah. Remember how I told you I’m having a playground built for the preschool?” Jongdae walked toward the dining room, carrying a tray of jam and sugar and whatnot. “He’s the architect who’s working on it.”

“Oh. I remember.” Kyungsoo flipped the eggs and placed them, one at a time, in a silver serving tray, and then covered the food with a dome lid to keep the steam in.

Jongdae walked back into the kitchen and picked up his phone, dialling the number off memory and putting the device to his ear. “Hello? Hey, Baek.” Kyungsoo couldn’t hear what the voice on the other end was saying but he could make out some muffled sort of greeting. “This is uncalled for, but what time will you be here for breakfast?” There was a pause. “What? Oh, no, I’m his roommate…he doesn’t have your number…don’t worry, we’re home…” Jongdae laughed. “Okay, sure. See you in a bit.”

Jongdae put the phone down. “He said he’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. Jongdae?”

“Yeah?”

“The toast.”

With a yelp of some kind, Jongdae rushed to save the toast, and Kyungsoo started on the bacon. Fifteen minutes passed easily; soon, the table was set and the kitchen was clean again, and Jongdae had finally taken his hair out of his towel-turban and tossed it in the laundry room. Kyungsoo wiped the kitchen counters.

“Is he coming?”

“Yeah, don’t worry Soo. I called him. He’s-” the doorbell rang, and Jongdae grinned.  “Here!” He ran to answer the door and Kyungsoo nodded, owl-eyed and slightly nervous.

Baekhyun walked into the kitchen, bowing a couple hundred times and apologizing for the intrusion. Lady was with him, quietly trotting along as if Baekhyun had told her beforehand to be on her best behavior.

The architect was dressed in a simple white shirt with a poem on it, and blue jeans. He brought in the scent of lavender with him as they led him to the dining room.

“Uh, thanks for having me.” Baekhyun scratched his neck. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought Lady.”

“No way!” Jongdae scooped her up and the puppy almost laughed. “You finally named her, huh?”

“Huh? Yeah, kinda.” Baekhyun chuckled.

“Well, have a seat, Baek. I’m hungry as hell but Kyungsoo wouldn’t let me eat till you got here.”

Baekhyun pulled up a chair and smiled at Kyungsoo. “Did you study hard last night?”

Kyungsoo nodded. “Horribly.” Baekhyun laughed.

He looked at the food and his eyes widened. “Did you cook all this?”

One of the residents was too busy playing with the puppy to answer; the other let out a nervous breath of laughter. “Yes.”

“It looks so good, whoa.” Baekhyun lifted the lid of one of the trays and revealed the bacon and eggs. “I’m sorry for the trouble, but don’t mind if I do.”

Jongdae laughed at that, and they all sat down in a triangle on the rectangular table, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo across from each other and Jongdae in between, on the head seat. They loaded their plates like the hungry, and of the three of them, Jongdae probably ate the most.

Their breakfast event was well spent in Baekhyun’s fits of laughter, Jongdae’s atrocious humor, and Kyungsoo’s excited nodding and occasional giggling.

Meanwhile, Lady explored the house, entering the rooms one at a time in curiosity. She wondered why the third bedroom at the end of the hall was locked, and whether or not the person who owned it was sleeping inside.

❋

♦ 

Sehun should’ve known Yifan hadn’t gone home the night before; he wasn’t surprised to see his boss asleep at his desk that morning, and not at all surprised to see the ink from his paperwork smeared over his nose and cheeks. He’d decided to leave a note and get them both some much-needed sugar and caffeine.

When he entered the sweetshop, he was immediately met with the scent of something freshly baked. Yixing was at the counter, turning his phone on, refreshing it, and turning it off, only to repeat the process in idle desperation. Sehun watched him for a bit before making his presence known.

The owner grinned when he saw Sehun. “What’ll it be today?”

Sehun held up two fingers. “A coffee for me, a coffee for Yifan, and…a box of glazed donuts.”

“Got it.” Yixing put his phone down reluctantly but left it and walked towards the kitchen. “The usual coffees?”

“As usual, the usual,” Sehun sang.

As he waited for his orders, he noticed two guys sitting in the sweetshop, talking like high schoolers about television and rock bands. He didn’t pay them too much attention, but acknowledged the fact that they resembled the flower boys from the dramas.

He got his order pretty quickly, and walked out of the shop balancing the coffees and donuts in a slight struggle. He figured he’d stop by the flower shop, which was somewhere between the sweetshop and his workplace. He hadn’t seen Tao that morning since he’d rushed out early in fear of his boss.

Stopping at the florist’s would give him a chance to say hi, and rearrange the food he was barely balancing in his arms.

He reached Minseok’s flower shop in minutes, and for once, there was no ruckus to be seen from the glass doors of the store. With his occupied hands, Sehun stood outside a bit, before Tao noticed him and let him in.

“Hey,” Sehun gave Tao a lopsided grin as he entered, and waved an occupied hand at Minseok enthusiastically as he speed-walked over to the counter to set down his donut box and the coffees.

“Hyung, it’s been forever,” Sehun leaned over the counter and jumped a little, and behind it, Minseok laughed. “I think I’ll buy my boss some flowers while I’m here.”

“What would you like?” Minseok was fumbling around with a calculator, softly whacking it against the counter to get it to work.

“What would you recommend for an overworked grandparent?”

“I have yet to meet one of those, Sehun, but I think some daisies or white camellias would be good.” Minseok put the calculator down and walked around the counter, rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down shirt. Minseok always wore dark-colored button-down shirts, sleeves rolled up and tucked under his pants. Unlike Yixing, who had a similar style, Minseok’s clothes were always stained with dirt or grass. Some days there would even be a flower petal or two in his hair.

“What do they symbolize?”

“Well,” Minseok walked up to the first shelf, which was rowed with white flower samples. “Daisies symbolize innocence and loyalty.”

Sehun chuckled.

“And white camellias literally tell the receiver that you think they’re adorable.”

Sehun clapped his hands together. “White camellias for sure. Gimme a bouquet.”

“Gotcha.”

Tao was kneeling in front of the next shelf, rowed behind the white flowers, sorting pots of pretty pink plants from darkest to lightest. “Why do you have to give him a bouquet?”

“It’s a token of affection.”

Tao furrowed him eyebrows. “Why?”

“He’s been my boss for three years, Tao,” Sehun rolled his eyes. “I’m allowed to give him flowers if I want.”

Tao nodded and grumbled something that sounded like an annoyed, “Okay…” and went back to his flowers. Sehun turned to Minseok, who was bringing in a bouquet of white camellias, and grinned.

“Did you catch last night’s episode of Hello Monster? They revealed the killer.”

Minseok chuckled. “They revealed that two weeks ago, Sehun.” He took out some clear wrapping paper from the drawer behind the counter and rolled it around the stems of the flowers, tying it all together with a simple, classy red bow.

“I watched a re-run?”

“Seems like it.”

“Dang.”

The florist set the bouquet on the counter and picked up his calculator again, reopening the drawer to take out a screwdriver and twist it into the calculator in frustration. Sehun didn’t mind his struggle, despite knowing that Minseok had a tendency