A/N: I'm sorry for the wait! Real life has been so stressful because of work and such. Do any of you ever have days when you ask yourself why you're doing the job you're doing? I think my part-time is good overall, but some days are just so full of bull, and I'm still getting paid below minimum wage even with my raises... *sigh*

Once again, I wrote this one day on my phone, so please don't judge me too harshly... ^^" I actually don't feel very satisfied with this chapter— I personally don't find it as funny or dynamic as the previous chapters— but I think I can bounce off of it? I'm actually big on research/evidence-based/just formal expository writing, so I'm still trying to figure out how to do this whole creative writing thing...

Taeyong's newfound bout of emotional constipation is really bothering Yuta.

The Japanese boy had been sleeping peacefully, curled up in a ball underneath his thick comforter, surrounded by velvety pillows and plushies, and mentally tuned in to an epic anime-related dream. But then a certain someone just had to ruin the serenity of it all.

Lee ing Taeyong woke Yuta up and is acting so tsundere right now the younger wants to rip him a new one. He knows he must look ridiculous glowering at the leader with his bedhead and sleepy squinting, but he honestly doesn't care. Yuta just wants an explanation. Preferably soon, or things are going to get quite ugly.

"Taeyong. Hyung." For the nth time, Taeyong completely ignores Yuta. He's all over the placeー pulling lint off his bedsheets, tidying up his already neat bookshelf, refolding laundry, reading a magazine...

Yuta is severely unimpressed, if the pillow he aggressively flings at Taeyong is anything to go by. 

Taeyong yelps as the pillow connects with his chest and leaves him flattened on his bed. "Hey, that wasn't nice," Taeyong admonishes weakly as he sits up, a pout gracing his face. "Eat your breakfast, Yuta. It's not good cold."

Like you? Yuta mentally retorts. He lets out an overdramatic, annoyed sigh as he watches Taeyong do a complete 180 before his eyes once more. His hurt puppy expression transitions into a resting face frigid enough to give all of Korea frostbite. To make matters worse, he has the nerve to sit up and ignore Yuta by doing menial tasks. Again.

You're going to be like that? Okay, that's it. This time, Yuta flings his giant takoyaki plushie at his roommate's head. "Why are you being such a tsundere?!" he angrily screeches in Japanese. "Who do you think you are?! First you roughly shake me awake, then you act all cute and sweet giving me breakfast in bed, then you totally ignore me like I'm the plague! And are you OCD or something?! Your side of the room isn't even messy, and oh, by the way, that magazine is upside down, you stupid, complicated bastardー"

"Shhh!" Taeyong drops everything he's doing as Yuta begins to scream bloody murder out of the blue. He dives off his bed and throws himself on top of the raging Japanese boy in blind panic. It's a bad idea, really, considering the fact that Yuta just gave him some minor chest and head trauma with the plushies he threw.

The hopeless Korean boy squeaks when the surprisingly strong Japanese boy easily rolls them over, pins him down, and renews his frightening verbal assault. 

Taeyong only gulps; he tentatively looks side to side as if a possible escape route will appear at any moment. All he sees, however, is the crowd of scarily happy-looking plushies sitting on Yuta's bed. The watermelon and Hello Kitty plushies, in particular, are radiating demonic vibes; their large, soulless eyes seem to be staring down the Korean boy while urging their Japanese owner to end his laughable existence... Honestly, Taeyong feels rather scared less dealing with his sensitive foreign roommate and his array of questionable inanimate objects, but he's not going to back down now. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Hope this works!

What the hell? Yuta stops his ranting and gasps as he feels Taeyong's fingers lightly tickle his sides and tummy; he quickly sits back and moves his hands to grip Taeyong's larger, nimble ones painfully. "Hyung, stop trying to be smart. It doesn't suit you. And that thing you just did doesn't work on me," he deadpans.

Taeyong puffs his cheeks out in embarrassment. "Can't blame me for trying? That 'thing' is called 'tickling', by the way. Now please get off and eat your breakfast!" Yuta straddling him makes for quite the pleasant sight and sensationー that's undeniableー but he didn't wake up early to painstakingly prepare food for nothing.

You're lucky I'm hungry and too lazy to tickle you back. Bet you'd scream and wet yourself. Yuta gives the boy underneath him one last stink eye before a sly smirk graces his face. "Thanks for the breakfast, hyung~ I'll go to the bathroom first before I eat." With that, Yuta gets off and stalks to the door.

When he opens it, however, he barely manages to avoid Johnny and Ten as they fall unceremoniously into the room.

Ten quickly stands up and embraces a startled Yuta. He nods at a startled Taeyong, too, before he sticks his tongue out at his soulmate. "I told you they weren't doing anything freaky! Now you have to pay for our next date!" he exclaims victoriously in English.

Johnny glares at Taeyong unhappily. "I'm disappointed in you, Taeyong. You're like the worst dongsaeng ever right now," Johnny booms dramatically in English. "You're going to make me bankrupt!"

Taeyong merely regards the foreign duo with a dead fish stare. "You know I don't know English, right?" he starts tiredly in Korean, rubbing his face. "Not hating or anything, but you guys have to get in the habit of using more Korean. Do you remember that language evaluation last month?"

A whistling Doyoung coincidentally walks past Taeyong and Yuta's room to the bathroom. "Yeah, you two. Your Korean still even though you've been here for years. What gives?" he comments savagely. He quickly slams the door shut when a peeved Ten releases Yuta and begins to bang on the bathroom door.

"You nasally, bunny-faced !" Ten roars in surprisingly flawless Korean. "Come out and face me like a man!"

"Oh, how scary. What're you going to do anyway, shorty? Kick me in the shins?" Doyoung taunts mirthfully. "An