"This isn't happening," Eunhyuk says, staring into the impossibility of it all. There are things in life that simply cannot happen and this has got to be at the top of that very strange list. Well, maybe not the top but surely it has to be on there somewhere, maybe as an appendix to a more likely, unlikely scenario, like things existing that shouldn't *see notes below.

               "Oh, it's happening, Monkey Boy."

               Eunhyuk shakes his head, regretting his every decision in life because he's not quite sure which one is most at fault. "Please don't call me that. My name is Eunhyuk, not Monkey Boy," he says, correcting his bedroom's newest addition for the umpteenth time. "My head hurts. I think I need to sit down."

               Eunhyuk makes his way to the edge of his bed, keeping a measurable distance between the newcomer and himself, rubbing at his temples, elbows digging into his thighs as he tries to grasp this reality. But it can't be a real, can it? It's a dream because things like this just didn't happen. They couldn't happen. All he has to do is wake up and things will get back to normal and all figments of his imagination will once again resign themselves to the confines of his mind, not lounge about his personal space as if they own the place.

               "Can you please not sit on it like that? My mom bought me that chair and if you break it, she'll blame me and complain that I never take care of the things she buys me and I like when my mom buys me things. I don't make that much, yet," he adds, glancing up at the superhero sitting on his director's chair made of bamboo. It could take Eunhyuk's weight just fine, but the weight of a fictional superhero who insists upon tipping it back on its hind legs, not so much.

               Donghae smirks in consideration before nodding his head and swinging forward to rest all of the chair's legs on solid ground, not just two of them. Eunhyuk wishes he could feel so grounded. His own feet are planted on the ground and yet he feels as though it's paper thin. He closes his eyes and pinches himself. He winces, hissing through his teeth before opening his eyes again in defeat. "You smell," Eunhyuk says, realizing that the scent wafting from across the room wasn't helping.

               Donghae frowns, pulls at his leather coat to sniff his armpit and pulls a face. "That's unfortunate. I just bathed this morning but you know how it is, crime fighting can be a . Maybe you should help me out with that," he says, tipping the chair back onto its hind legs again. "Give me a vacation, or better yet, why don't I just stay here. This world seems nice and quiet, a great place to retire."

               Eunhyuk shakes his head, embarrassed and chagrined all at once. "That's not what I meant. You smell like," he starts, sniffing at the air for a better gauge. "You smell like the beach, like salt water and warm sand and something else I can't quite put my finger on."

               Donghae brightens, eager for the assist. "Coconuts? Driftwood? Seaweed? Seashells? Linen?"

               Eunhyuk shakes his head, annoyed at the other's arrogance, mostly because he is not wrong. "No, more like something chemical, sewage maybe but not that unpleasant," he says instead.

               "Alright, I feel as though you're actually trying to insult me now and I just can't have that. I spent the good part of last week putting up with my arch nemesis General Giraffe's jibes—who is a very small man strangely enough, teeny weenie—before I finally got the best of him. It was the battle of my life, for my life. I almost died you know."

               "I know," Eunhyuk says, feeling a little sorry for it.

               "Yeah, I know you know. This happens almost every week, through no one's fault but your own and now you're going to insult me, for what? For being everything you imagined me to be?  If you think I came here to sling insults, you're sorely mistaken. Now, grow up and act like you have a pair and fix things or I'm really going to get upset, Monkey Boy."

               Eunhyuk frowns. "Why do you keep calling me Monkey Boy?"

               Donghae laughs. "Isn't it obvious? You look like him, or did you not realize you fashioned my sidekick from the likes of you. Haven't met an artist yet who didn't have a narcissistic streak."

               "You've met others like me?"

               "No, you're a piece of work but there are artists in my world, along with galleries and museums. I'm not some uncultured hick. I can read real good and even spell my own name. My mother is so proud," he jests. "What do you think, people in my world just sit around staring at the wall when you're not around? You should know these things. You made it. Anyway, I'm surprised I don't look like you too and thank you for that, by the way. I'm the best looking guy in my universe so I guess I there are no complaints there. All the other stuff though..."

               "This isn't happening," Eunhyuk grumbles, falling back against his bed, rubbing his face hard enough to start a fire. On top of trying his best to ignore the fact that his looks were just insulted, he was also trying to ignore the fact that the impossible was happening. "This is so not happening." This can't be happening.

               The bed dips (and Eunhyuk can't help but wonder if he would have felt anything had he spent that extra $500 on the foam mattress he opted out of last week) when the added weight of a superhero climbs onboard to straddle his hips. Eunhyuk jerks up, startled before inhumanly strong hands pin him back down. "Now, now, now, let's not start this again. We've been over this. I'm Donghae, bastard son of Neptune and hero of Mokpo, and you're my creator, Monkey Boy of 2547 Walkerhill-ro, Gwangjin-gu, Seoul. It took a while to track you down, but when you're best friends with a mastermind whose specialty is inter-dimensional travel and he owes you a favor or two, it makes the task a little easier."

               Eunhyuk stares up at Donghae in shock, feeling the heat and the weight of the man bear down on his groin. It takes everything he has in him not to moan as his every fantasy is coming true. Donghae was the perfect guy, as far as Eunhyuk was concerned and he created him with the intention of wishful thinking. If he set a goal and had a clear idea of the man he wanted in mind, he would meet that man and fall in love. He saw it on one of those morning talk shows his sister was so fond of. He even created a dream board where he could pin his other goals, like the house he wanted to live in and the career he studied so hard in school for, all in hopes of becoming the man he aspired to be.  And it seemed to be working too. He landed an internship straight out of college at his top pick for illustration studios and impressed them enough to land a two year contract.

               It wasn't unti