Through the entire bus ride and the walk, Junhong didn’t let go of Youngjae’s hand. Youngjae wasn’t sure why he didn’t let go either; maybe he was afraid he might upset Junhong again if he did. Yeah, that had to be why.

When Himchan opened the door, Youngjae noticed him eyeing their joined hands, but he didn’t say anything about it as he ushered them inside. Instead he yelled for Yongguk, telling him that he was a terrible host for not greeting his company.

Youngjae shook his head with a laugh. “What would he do without you?”

“Probably perish in isolation,” Junhong suggested.

Himchan snorted. “Damn right,” he added with a wink.

A door opened down the hall, Yongguk’s head poking out. “Hi.”

And with that the door shut again.

“Honestly,” Himchan mumbled, bringing his hand up to squeeze his temples. “He’s been holing himself up working lately,” he said with a sigh. “I’m gonna go make him come out. Let’s just hope he hasn’t gone full on hermit again. You two can go ahead and get started.”

After Himchan had vanished, Youngjae turned to Junhong. “That’s happened before?”

Junhong shrugged. “Yeah, just a couple times.”

“How have I not heard about this?”

“I mean, it’s not a huge deal, he just kinda…isolates himself with his work and doesn’t eat or shower or anything.”

“Um, that’s not good,” Youngjae said, a crease in his brows.

“Of course not, but Himchan takes care of him, you know. He does his best not to let it happen.” Junhong smiled down at Youngjae, and held out the bag of chocolate chips. “So. Ready?”

“Oh my god!”

Youngjae felt the blood drain from his face at the sound of Himchan’s voice coming from the entrance to the kitchen.

“What in the name of all that is good in this world happened?!”

“Um,” Junhong began intelligently.

“I may or may not have dropped the flour,” Youngjae offered. He and Junhong were both on their knees, trying desperately to sweep all of the powder into the dustpan. Youngjae, however, was absolutely heaped in the grain, his hair white and clothing heavily dusted.

“I dropped the flour,” Junhong argued, pointing a finger to his chest and dusting his t-shirt with white.

“No, I dropped the flour,” Youngjae retaliated.

“I–“

“I do not care who dropped the flour,” Himchan interrupted. “Just get it cleaned up. Lord, save me,” he turned and went back to the living room, where he had finally managed to drag Yongguk out to.

Junhong laughed. “You know, Youngjae, white is a good color on you.”

“Do you want to die?” Youngjae scooped a handful of flour from the ground and made as if to throw it.

“Nah, I can’t work white. Must be your eyes that make the look,” Junhong winked at him. “Why did you tell him you dropped the flour, by the way? The only reason you’re covered head to toe is because I dropped it on you,” he raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, I was reenacting that iconic scene from Spartacus, duh.”

“Wow, you’re really starting to rival even Jongup’s level of geek,” Junhong responded with a laugh.

Youngjae rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just clean this up and finish with the dough.”

Exactly one hour later, the kitchen of Yongguk and Himchan’s apartment was cleaner than it had been even before Youngjae and Junhong had entered the scene, and there was a plate piled with chocolate chip cookies on the counter. Junhong stepped back to admire their work, and turned to Youngjae with his hand in the air. Youngjae slapped it with his own. “Nice.”

“Damn, what recipe did you guys use?” Himchan asked as he bit into a warm cookie.

“We didn't use a recipe,” Junhong answered.

Himchan immediately froze. “Should I spit this out?” He asked slowly, glancing at the trash can by the door.

“No, no,” Youngjae said. “It is a recipe, I just have it memorized.”

“So you didn’t come up with that on your own.” Junhong folded his arms across his chest. “I knew it.”

“I never said I did,” Youngjae replied. “It’s just the recipe that my dad and I used to use when I was a kid. I can’t seem to forget it,” he said thoughtfully.

“It’s getting really late,” Himchan said, sounding surprised. “Do you guys just wanna crash here tonight?”

“Oh, that’s alri–“

“We’d love to!” Junhong interrupted Youngjae, grabbing his arm. “I call the couch!”

Himchan laughed. “We have a futon, you know.”

“I changed my mind,” Junhong declared. “I call the futon!”

“It’s a queen, you two can just share it,” Himchan said with an eye roll, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve gotta finish up a paper, but make yourselves at home. Just don’t be too loud, I only finally got Yongguk to sleep twenty minutes ago. Just don’t use my toothbrush.”

Junhong snorted. “How would you even know if one of us used your toothbrush?”

“I would know,” Himchan said with a glance back from where he was at the doorway. “Be polite to your hosts, jeez. Kids these days,” he mumbled as he left the room.

“How the does this work?” Junhong groaned.

Youngjae rolled his eyes from his seat on the couch and looked up from his phone to see Junhong sprawled across the futon.

“My god, Junhong, have you never used one of those before?”

“No, but I can figure it out,” his voice strained as he stretched over the side, looking for something. “Ow.”

With a sigh, Youngjae rose and made his way over. “Get off,” he directed.

Junhong complied, and followed Youngjae around the the side of the futon to grab the stick holding the back of the thing up. “You just have to pull these out,” he said. “There’s one on either side. Go get the other one so we can lower it together.”

Once the futon had been successfully lowered, the only casualties being Junhong’s toes, which found hell in being kicked against the wood of the furniture, the two flopped down on the mattress, the exhaustion of the day hitting them simultaneously.

“Blanket,” Junhong mumbled weakly, raising an arm as if reaching for something only to let it fall back to his side with a soft thump.

“Do I have to do everything?” Youngjae complained as he sat up, scanning the room to find a stack of throw blankets next to the TV. He grabbed a couple, along with the pillows from the couch, and threw everything at Junhong.

“Thanks,” the younger boy mumbled, not moving.

Youngjae face-palmed and returned to his spot on the futon, pulling a blanket and pillow from the mound that was his friend, and snuggled into the fabric, feeling cold now that he wasn't moving around, despite the summer heat.

“They’re so cute,” Himchan gushed, pulling Yongguk over to the living room. “You’ve gotta see them, it’s adorable!”

“I’ll bet,” Yongguk grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

Himchan ignored his question. “See, look! It’s so sweet. They’re all innocent and pure, I miss when we were like that.”

“We were never like that, Channie, and you know it.” Yongguk looked down at the two boys sleeping on the futon. Junhong had practically engulfed Youngjae. There were a couple blankets strewn across their legs, which were intertwined, and Youngjae had his head on a pillow, the other being squashed between his chest and arms. “Aww, that’s cute,” Yongguk said, smiling. “They don’t have midterms today, right?”

“Nah, they’re both done. I know Junhong is leaving tomorrow to visit his family for the break, but I’m not sure about Youngjae,” Himchan answered. “Just let them sleep. Let’s grab breakfast.”

“Did you have any plans for today?” Yongguk asked as they entered the kitchen.

Himchan opened the fridge to pull out the carton of orange juice. “Nope. I am not leaving this apartment,” he said with a bright smile on his face.

“Don’t you have to work?” Yongguk pulled a box of cereal from the shelf.

“Not until Monday,” Himchan placed a glass of the juice on the table and then proceeded to prepare the coffee maker.

Yongguk sat down at the table with a bowl of cereal and took a sip of the juice Himchan had put out for him. “I’ll never understand why you make me drink orange juice so much,” he mused.

“Vitamins,” Himchan called over his shoulder while pouring himself a cup of coffee, then dumping in way too much creamer.

Yongguk rolled his eyes and unfolded the newspaper.

“I can’t believe you read the newspaper. That’s such a Yongguk thing to do,” Himchan shook his head as he took a seat next to Yongguk.

“If it’s such a Yongguk thing to do, then why can’t you believe it?”

“Touché,” Himchan glanced at the back of the paper in Yongguk’s hands. “Whoa, is that this weekend’s forecast?” There were little clouds with thunderbolts above Saturday and Sunday, which seemed strange because the weather had been so tame lately. There was suddenly a soft roll of thunder, and Himchan sighed, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. “I guess it is,” he answered his own question.

Junhong’s eyes snapped open to a loud boom coming from outside. “Thunder?” He wondered out loud. “In the morning? Huh.” He shrugged and closed his eyes, not ready to wake up yet, and snuggled back into his pillow. Which he then realized was not a pillow. It was something much better; that being a very small, very soft, and very warm human named Youngjae. To be honest, Junhong had been drawn to the guy ever since he first met him earlier that year. At first he simply intrigued him, but it later began to grow into something much more complicated and confusing. But recently Junhong had found himself stuck; he had been sending Youngjae hints at his affections for a while now, but the latter seemed to take little to no notice of the advances.

Junhong looked down at the boy in his arms and buried his nose in the soft, chocolatey brown hair. He knew that Youngjae was probably straight, he claimed to be, at least, but no way in hell had that been stopping him from trying to hook his man.

Said “man” began to stir as the thunder grew louder, curling back into Junhong as he buried his face in the pillow being hugged to his chest. With a deep sigh, Youngjae opened his eyes. He felt drowsy enough that he could shut them and fall back asleep immediately, but there was suddenly a loud crack outside that jerked him awake, and he sat up, looking around.

Junhong groaned from his spot next to him. “Youngjae,” he whined, “come back…” a hand curled around the back of Youngjae’s shirt and he soon found himself falling back down onto the mattress, now facing Junhong.

“Ugh, so loud…” the older complained, nuzzling his face into Junhong’s chest. He felt arms circle around his back and pull him closer, but he didn’t try to pull away. It was early, Youngjae was tired, and he didn’t feel like putting any effort whatsoever towards pulling away from Junhong’s warm body. And maybe he liked it a little. Yeah, just a little.

“Ah, I had my suspicions, but now I see it is confirmed,” a voice suddenly broke the silence between the two. “Why didn’t you two tell me you were a thing now?” Youngjae looked up, meeting the gaze of none other than Kim Himchan.

“We’re not,” he grumbled. “Now shh, I’m comfy.”

“Is that so? Well, it certainly looks like you are,” Himchan challenged.

Youngjae shushed the elder again, and he seemed to give up, leaving the room with a sigh.

There was a long silence, and Youngjae had almost fallen asleep again (definitely not to the strong, steady beat of Junhong’s heart) when he heard the younger speak up quietly.

“We could, you know.”

“Hm? Could what?” Youngjae asked groggily, confused.

“You know, be a…a thing. We could…be a thing.” Junhong suddenly sounded nervous, and Youngjae could feel rather than hear his heartbeat picking up.

“I don’t–“ Youngjae faltered. Where was this coming from all of a sudden? “But I–“

“Don’t like boys?” Junhong finished for him.

Youngjae nodded, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you like me?” He grabbed Youngjae’s hands and held them between them.

“I…I don’t know?”

Junhong smiled. He was so cute. “Is that a maybe?”

“I…I guess,” Youngjae confirmed, trying to will the blush away from his cheeks. “But it’s weird; I’m not gay, and I like you.”

Junhong smiled. “You like me?”

“I–what? Did I–“

“Say that out loud?” Junhong finished. “Yes. Yes, you did. Ah, the joys of the Freudian Slip.”

Youngjae was silent.

“So is that a yes, then?” Junhong asked.

“Yes to what?”

“To going out with me.”

“Oh…” Youngjae thought about it. He had been alone for so long now, and he did kind of like Junhong…oh, what the hell? “Okay. Yeah, it’s a yes.”

“Yes!” Junhong cheered, diving down to peck Youngjae’s cheek, then pulling him closer for an awkward laying-down hug.

“But I’m still confused,” Youngjae stated.

Junhong pulled back and looked at his new boyfriend. “Confused? About what?” Worry creased his forehead.

“It’s just…what does this make me? I’m not gay, but you’re a guy, so I can’t be straight, either, but then again I’ve never really liked a girl–or a guy, for that matter, and–“

“You don’t need to label yourself, Youngjae,” Junhong interrupted softly. “Don’t overthink it.”

There was a long pause.

…

“I’m Junhong-ual.”

The statement took Junhong by surprise, but he quickly hid it with a smirk. “Ah, so it’s ual now, is it?”

Youngjae’s cheeks burned. “That’s not–“

“Shh, go back to sleep, Sunshine.”

“Who are you calling Sunshine, Sunshine?”

“It’s not an insult,” Junhong snorted softly.

“Whatever,” Youngjae stated begrudgingly, burrowing back into his new boyfriend’s embrace as the rain finally began to fall.

and there we have it! My second completed story on AFF ^.^ I'm going to start a one-shot collection soon along with working on Blood in the Sand, so send in some requests! All I need is a pairing and a prompt :) Thank you for reading! xx