“Jonguppie, please, let me just do your socks!”

            Jongup winkles his nose and plucks two socks from the pile, folding them together and setting them on the small, finished pile at his side as Junhong complains.

            “Those weren’t even the same brand!”

            “That sounds like a you problem, Junhonggie.”

            “And that’s why I’m trying to fix it!” Junhong replies. “It’s a problem! You can’t wear two different brands of socks at the same time!”

            “Yeah, that one’s definitely up there with the cardinal sins,” Jongup says with a shrug, reaching into his laundry basket for another sock. “I guess my days of ignorant bliss are over.” He tilts his head, pausing for a moment. “Do you think that if wearing mismatched socks really was a cardinal sin, it would still count for me, since technically I can’t help it?”

            Junhong furrows his brow in concentration. “Maybe… but now that I’ve made you aware of your actions, shouldn’t you be capable of fixing it and redeeming yourself? Or at least make an effort that will draw mercy from whoever judges what is to be considered a cardinal sin?” He flops back onto his bed, arms spread eagle, only to jolt back up when there’s a knock at the door. Immediately, he looks at Jongup.

            “Are you expecting someone?” he asks.

            Jongup doesn’t pause in his sock-folding. “Um, no.” After a pause, “are you?”

            “No?” Junhong answers like he’s asking a question, and Jongup shrugs.

            “It’s probably for you, then,” he says. “And by that, I mean: I’m not getting up to answer the door.”

            Jongup tunes out while Junhong pushes himself up off of his bed with a groan and makes for the door. He hears voices but doesn’t listen, just keeps folding his socks. He doesn’t understand why Junhong thinks sock-sorting is so important. They’re just socks. All Jongup expects of them is for his feet to be kept warm.

            By the time the door shuts with a click and Jongup hears the creak of the springs in Junhong’s bed, he’s finished with the socks.

            “Who was it?” he asks.

            “Oh––” Junhong yawns “––just the RA. Reminding us about that hall meeting that’s this weekend.”

            Jongup hums in acknowledgement and scoops all of the socks up in his arms, cradling them as he transfers them into the already-open drawer of his dresser. Finishing a load of laundry is like sitting down after running a marathon, he thinks.

            Making his way to his desk, Jongup hears the loud sound of a zipper and some shuffling of papers. “Starting homework?” he asks Junhong.

            “Ugh, more like continuing,” Junhong starts. “I’ve been working on this damn project for three days now, and I’m only half done!”

            “Alright, alright,” Jongup says with a light laugh. “That , Junhonggie. When’s it due?”

            There’s a pause. “About… five hours.”

            “Well, good luck. I’ll be finishing an essay if you need me.” Jongup slips on his headphones and wakes up the computer.

            Two hours later, psychology essay finally submitted, it’s time for Jongup to begin his composition assignment. He fishes across his desk for the cord that connects his keyboard to the computer, and plugs it in right next to where his headphones––which are still over his ears––are. Just as he pulls up the recording program, Junhong calls his name from across the room. His cry of “Jonguppie!” is muffled but audible, and he slips his headphones off to fall around his neck.

            “What’s up?” Jongup leans back in his chair, inhaling deeply when a relaxing scent filled his nose. “Are you diffusing tea tree oil?” he asks.

            “Have I ever told you how amazing your nose is?” Junhong asks. “Like, that’s a super-power-level sniffer.”

            “Is that a yes?”

            “I don’t know, is it?”

            “What do you want?” Jongup asks, laughing because just Junhong.

            “Is it alright if Youngjae comes over to hang out?”

            Jongup shrugs his shoulders. “Sure. Just don’t be too loud.”

            “Of course not,” Junhong says.

            “Cool, I’ve just got this composition project I need to get started on, so, you know. Quiet is ideal.”

            “To be honest, he probably just wants to take a nap in my lap while I finish this cursed project.”

            “I guess it’ll work out, then.”

            Daehyun only feels a little bad that he insisted to tag along with Youngjae. And only because Youngjae keeps hitting his arm. They’re all squished together on Junhong’s bed, just playing dumb games on their phones. Well, Youngjae and Junhong are. Daehyun keeps finding himself staring off at the opposite side of the room, at the desk where Jongup is sitting, doing work on his computer. And that’s why Youngjae keeps hitting him, hissing that it’s rude. Though, also because the only reason he really came was to get away from Daehyun so that he could hang out with Junhong in peace, but that’s proving to be quite near impossible. At least, it is until Youngjae kicks Daehyun off the bed.

            He lands with a loud thud and an unnecessarily loud yelp.

            “What was that for!” Daehyun sits up and rubs his back.

            “I want to take a nap, and you were taking up too much space,” Youngjae explains.

            “Well you could have just said that.”

            “Sorry, didn’t think of that.” Youngjae brushes him off as he crawls towards where Junhong is sitting with his back against the wall, legs crossed in front of him. Junhong’s cheeks turn pink as Youngjae climbs into his lap and curls up to fit snugly between his legs, with his head resting on his knee––which is impressive for a fully grown man, but, then again, Junhong is huge.

            Daehyun stares from where he’s sitting on the floor as, almost immediately, Youngjae nuzzles into Junhong’s thigh with a soft sigh, already almost asleep. Daehyun laughs at Junhong’s face, which looks near a state of panic, and he gets a glare in return.

            “Go hang out with your own boyfriend,” Junhong hisses, jerking his head in Jongup’s direction.

            Daehyun’s mouth drops open. “What––shush!”

            Junhong raises his eyebrows.

            “Stop that! I’m not dating anyone.”

            “Not yet, maybe.”

            Daehyun pushes himself back to his feet. “I’m leaving. You two can be mushy all you want. Good––” He doesn’t finish, cut off by a yelp the second he turns around, because suddenly he’s falling, and there’s someone under him.

            “Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” He scrambles off Jongup in an awkward repeat of their first encounter. He holds a hand out and mentally slaps himself a few times, before reaching forward and grabbing Jongup by the arm. Jongup lets Daehyun haul him off the ground, rubbing his on the way up. He mutters a quiet “ow,” and that’s enough, at this point, to make Daehyun’s heart flood with guilt. Forgetting about the other two in the room, he pushes Jongup onto his bed and gently grabs his shoulders, pushing him down until he’s lying on his back.

            “Are you okay? I’m sorry! God, this is even worse than last time––”

            “What are you doing?” Jongup is frowning, and he has his hands wrapped around Daehyun’s wrists to push him away. “I’m fine. I mean, my hurts a little bit, but you didn’t break me.”

            Daehyun’s hands flutter around him, as if looking for a way to soothe Jongup, who doesn’t seem to need or want to be soothed, anyway. He glances over at Junhong, who’s watching them with his chin resting in the palm of his hand and one eyebrow raised. Youngjae seems to be asleep. Daehyun feels his cheeks grow hot.

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m just, well, you know. I mean, this has happened before, so. Still, I’m really sorry.” He sits down beside Jongup, and opens his mouth to say more, but Jongup sits up, reaching forward to press a hand against his face––hitting his mark dead on on the first try––, covering his mouth. And nose, but he doesn’t seem to mind that he’s cutting off Daehyun’s air supply.

            “Sh,” he commands.

            Jongup moves his hand away after a moment, seeming satisfied with Daehyun’s silence.

            “Sor––”

            “Oh, my god, stop apologizing. I’m fine!” Jongup throws his hands up in the air. “I fell on the ground, it’s okay! You did, too.” He points a finger in Daehyun’s direction. “I’m not breakable just because I can’t see!”

            There’s a brief silence, and Daehyun glances over at Junhong again, who just shrugs and points at him, as if saying “you’re the one who ed up; you fix it.”

“Yeah, but I fell on top of you,” Daehyun says. “That clearly makes you the victim.” He pokes Jongup’s shoulder, and watches with relief as he cracks a smile.

            “You are pretty heavy. Might’ve actually done some permanent damage. I think you’ll need to pay my medical bills, unless you wanna get sued.”

            “You can’t do that! I’m in college, I don’t have any money!”

            Jongup flinches when Daehyun shouts, but he’s giggling, and it makes Daehyun want to gather him up in his arms and squeeze him. And that’s exactly what he does. He throws his arms around Jongup’s shoulders and pulls him in. Jongup doesn’t exactly reciprocate the embrace, but he doesn’t reject it, either. He just kind of lets Daehyun pull him against his chest with nothing more than a light grunt of surprise. Jongup tilts his head a little in confusion from where it rests over Daehyun’s shoulder, and only then does Daehyun seem to realize what it is he’s actually doing. He pushes Jongup away just as quickly as he had pulled him in.

            “I’m––”

            “Jung Daehyun, if you tell me that you’re sorry, I will kick you out of this room.”

            Daehyun chuckles nervously and rubs a hand against the back of his neck. “I am sorry, though,” he says quietly. When Jongup doesn’t stop him, he continues. “And not just for falling on you. I just… I shouldn’t have reacted that way, before. I’m… I’m not sure why I did.”

            Jongup is quiet for a moment, before turning his head and leaning against Daehyun’s shoulder. He sighs. “It’s alright. Just, please don’t treat me like I’m breakable. A lot of people do that because of these,” he mumbles, tapping his sunglasses.

            “You are anything but weak, mister I-workout-all-the-time,” Daehyun teases him, and squeezes Jongup’s bicep.

            “Hey!” Jongup leans back and kicks him away, laughing and landing a solid blow to Daehyun’s stomach.

            “Ah, okay, okay. But you just gave more evidence for my last statement.”

            “I don’t work out that much.”

            “Then how do you explain all of this?” Daehyun gestures to Jongup’s entire body, before, again, recalling that his gestures are completely useless, but Jongup seems to understand what he means.

            “It’s just from dance.” He shrugs.

            “What do you mean it’s ‘just from dance!’” Daehyun imitates Jongup, earning himself a solid hit to the shoulder. “It’s not that easy for all of us!”

            “I never said it was easy. You’re just lazy.”

            “He’s right,” Youngjae’s voice suddenly pipes up, mid-yawn.

            “Why are you awake?” Daehyun snaps. “Go back to sleep, you loser.”

            “No,” Youngjae protests. “I actually just remembered I have something I need to do.”

Five minutes later, Youngjae has produced his backpack and begins to it. “Come on, Junhong! I don’t really have anyone else to ask.”

            “Just make Daehyun do it." Junhong pushes Youngjae’s hand away.

            “Oh, hell no,” Daehyun says from the other side of the room, where he’s sitting on next to Jongup in his bed, tapping at his laptop, a blanket around his shoulders and over his head. “I can barely have my pulse taken without passing out.”

            “You look like a hermit crab,” Junhong says, and Daehyun frowns.

            “Junhonggie,” Youngjae whines, tugging at his arm. “I just have to take your blood pressure, it’s not like I’m performing a vasectomy on you.”

            “Don’t ever say that word again,” Daehyun cuts in.

            “Why do you even have to do this outside of class?” Junhong asks. “This should be a lab! I am not taking this sweater off.”

            Youngjae sighs, and collapses backwards onto one of his pillows. He nudges Junhong’s stomach with his foot. “We don’t even have to go anywhere, I have my own cuff that I can use.”

            “Cuffs?” Daehyun waggles his eyebrows at Youngjae, and Junhong’s cheeks set ablaze.

            “Shut up, Daehyun.” Youngjae launches a pillow at him, just missing Jongup.

            “Hey!” Junhong protests. “That’s mine!”

            Youngjae shrugs, and Daehyun throws the pillow back.

“How ‘bout you just use Jongup for your assignment?” Junhong asks.

            “Jongup?” Youngjae asks, sitting up. “I mean, I guess I––”

            “Hey Jonguppie! Youngjae needs a subject for one of his nursing assignments. You don’t mind having your blood pressure taken, do you?”

            Jongup tugs out one of his earbuds. “What?”

            Junhong repeats himself and Jongup nods. “Sure, I don’t mind.” He puts down his iPod and stands up. “Is any of your on the floor?” he asks.

            “Nope,” Junhong states proudly, and Jongup crosses the narrow space between their beds. He reaches out and grabs the side of Junhong’s bed, then hefts himself up with barely any effort. He lands, seated neatly, beside Youngjae and holds out his arm.

            “Oh, thanks,” Youngjae says. He pulls a couple things from his backpack and Velcros the blood pressure cuff around his bicep, then positions his stethoscope in his ears and starts pumping.

“Hmm…” Youngjae frowns, checking the meter again. “Exactly one hundred over seventy.” He loosens the cuff around Jongup’s arm and pulls his stethoscope from his ears. “That’s a little bit low. Well, still in the normal range, but you feel fine, right?” he asked.

“I’m a little cold,” Jongup suggests.

“No, no––that would have the opposite effect, actually,” Youngjae corrects him. “See, because when you’re cold, your veins contract––they get smaller––, so more pressure is needed to––ah!”

“Stop it,” Daehyun groans from wherever he must have launched something at Youngjae. “I thought you were a vocal performance major,” he whines.

Youngjae slides the cuff from Jongup’s arm and shoves it back into his bag in exchange for a notepad and pen. “Daehyun, we’ve been here for about three years, and you still can’t find the space in your brain to remember that I’m a double major?”

“Nope.”

Youngjae grumbles to himself and writes down Jongup’s vitals. “Well, I still technically need three subjects total, so that’s two left,” he says.

“Can’t you just make up?”

“No, Daehyun. Unlike some people, I have a respect for the honor code, and I value every learning experience I can have.”

Jongup laughs and slides off Junhong’s bed. He makes it back to his own and gets comfortable next to Daehyun again, grabbing his earbuds and settling in for a little while of relaxing music. His friends continue to bicker, but he’s not really listening anymore. In fact, he feels like he might fall asleep here. He could for sure if he laid down, but Daehyun is here, too, and Jongup isn’t about to go laying his head in anybody’s lap.

            Ever since he met and befriended Jongup a couple of months ago, Daehyun has begun to notice him all over the place. He’s surprised that they had never really been acquainted until recently, since they share a major. In fact, Daehyun spends most of his free time in the music building, so he doesn’t understand how Jongup has managed to slip past him.

            When he finally does spot Jongup in the music building, he’s not surprised but definitely happy, and he nearly barges right into the practice room, somehow possessing enough self-control to wait until Jongup takes his fingers away from the keys on the piano.

            Junhong is sitting on a stool at the window, resting a textbook on the sill and leaning over it studiously.

            “Well, I couldn’t hear any of that, but I’m sure it was lovely!” Daehyun says, clapping.

            “What are you doing in here?” Daehyun asks Junhong. “Homework?”

            Junhong groans loudly and leans back as far as he can without falling off of the stool, and he flings his hands into the air. “Does the sun rise in the east?” he asks flatly.

            Jongup snorts. “He’s got quite a heavy workload this semester, apparently, but then again, for all I know he could be spending our ‘night-time-quiet-time’s watching YouTube on his laptop.”

            “God, I wish.” Junhong grabs a chunk of pages from his textbook and slowly releases them, creating a solid, fanning, heavy-paper-fwapping noise. “That sound like a laptop to you?” he asks, sounding miserable.

            “I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Junhonggie. You’ve really been an amazing roommate.”

            “Yeah, I know,” Junhong grumbles. “I wish I could be an amazing student, too.”

            “You have a good GPA.”

            Junhong makes an unsure noise.

            “You work hard, Junhonggie,” Daehyun chimes in.

            “Thanks, man.” Junhong says with a sigh, and he shuts his textbook. “I think I’m gonna catch a nap before my next class.”

            Daehyun glances at his watch, eyebrows raising. “You have another class? It’s past five.”

            “It’s a night class,” Junhong and Jongup say in tandem, and Daehyun winces.

            “Ugh, that’s the worst.”

            “Yes it is!” Junhong agrees with a pained grin. He turns to Jongup. “Jonguppie, are you gonna stay a while longer?”

            Jongup nods his head. “Yeah, I think so. I wanna work on this one a little more,” he says, running his fingers across the keys.

            “Can I hear it?” Daehyun blurts out.

            “Oh––sure.” Jongup looks surprised, almost as if he forgot Daehyun was there.

            Junhong packs up his stuff and slides on his jacket and hat, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “You can get back okay?” he asks Jongup. “It’s still pretty icy.”

            Jongup sighs. “Yeah, I keep a cane in my bag.”

            “You fit that thing in your backpack? How?”

            “It folds, idiot.”

            “Oh,” Junhong says with a laugh. “I’m gonna go and do some sleeping now. Call me if you need anything. I can’t guarantee I’ll be conscious to pick up, though.”

            Jongup waves off in Junhong’s direction. “I’ll be fine, Junhonggie. Plus, I’ve got Daehyun.”

            Daehyun, who immediately blushes when Jongup says his name, turns to Junhong.

            Junhong gives him a look that is, in Daehyun’s opinion, far too knowing.

            “What?” Daehyun asks.

            “What?” Jongup echoes.

            “I’ll see you tonight!” Junhong calls, and he’s out the door.

            “You’re amazing,” Daehyun says ten minutes later, majorly blown away. He watches Jongup’s smile grow. “Seriously, how’d you get so good? I’ve had to take piano classes but I never really picked it up. At least, not beyond Hot Cross Buns and a few scales.”

            Jongup huffs out a light laugh, fiddling with his fingers. “I’m learning to play by ear,” he says, and then blushes. “I don’t have perfect pitch yet, but I’m working on it.”

            “Don’t have––Jongup, please, teach me your ways.” Daehyun sits down next to him on the padded bench.

            Jongup swings one leg over so that he’s straddling the bench and facing Daehyun. “I don’t know if I’d really be any help to someone who plays by reading sheet music,” he says. “I can’t teach you how to do that.”

            Daehyun frowns. “I know, just… you’re just so great,” he says, then claps a hand on Jongup’s shoulder, startling him. “Can you recommend good pieces to start with, though? For someone who ?”

            Jongup’s smile creeps back. “Well that depends. How much do you ?”

            For a moment Daehyun forgets to respond, letting his hand fall from Jongup’s shoulder and linger on his arm. He’s just staring at Jongup’s face, wishing he could see all of it. Under the bright lights of the practice room, he can make out very faint traces of scars that disappear under the sunglasses. He doesn’t know what exactly happened to Jongup––he figures it doesn’t matter much since it’s never actually come up––, but he thinks it might have taken more than just Jongup’s vision from him.

            Jongup’s question finally processes, and Daehyun scrambles to answer. “I––um, I really . Like a lot. It took me a semester to get through the level one workbook.”

            Jongup winces, making Daehyun laugh. “Ah, that bad, huh?”

            Daehyun kicks his shin lightly. “I can learn! I just haven’t found a good teacher yet.”

            Jongup elbows him. “What makes you think I’ll be the one?” he asks.

            “Well… the traditional way doesn’t seem to work for me, you know? I guess I think that maybe a different… approach, could help me figure it out?”

            Jongup hums. “Well, I do need to practice myself for a little longer since this is kind of due tomorrow, but for now you could play something and I’ll suggest a piece for you to try in the meantime based on how well you do?”

            Daehyun groans and stands up, making his way over to the bookshelf-made-mini-library in the corner of the room. “How does ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’ sound?”

            “Oh, I really have my work cut out for me, don’t I?”

            “’The Gift to be Simple?’”

            “Daehyun––”

            “’Kumbaya?’ ‘Amazing Grace?’ Oh! There’s ‘A-Tisket A-Tasket!’”

            Jongup shakes his head. “Why do they even have those in here?”

            “Okay, okay,” Daehyun says, running his fingers over the rows of booklets. “I’ll do Für Elise.”

            “That I can work with, probably.”

            Daehyun slips the sheet music from the shelf and organizes it at the piano. He scoffs and slides back onto the bench, bumping into Jongup’s side as he wiggles his way to the center.

            “Pardon me, sir,” he mocks, poking Jongup’s arm.

            Jongup just tilts his head. “Oh, sorry, did you need the whole bench?”

            “Um––”

            “Check the range of the piece.”

            Daehyun squints at the papers in front of him. “You want me to find the highest and lowest note just to see if I’ll have to reach past you to play?”

            “Yes,” Jongup says, as if this is normal.

            Daehyun’s not sure what to say to this; he doesn’t have anything to say to this, he just stares at Jongup again for a few seconds, until:

            “Stop staring at me.”

            Daehyun flinches and averts his gaze back to the sheet music. He’s really got to practice the art of subtlety.

I hope you guys enjoyed this Random, Unwarranted Update! I wrote about half of it, like, at least half a year ago, and then finished it all today. So it's really choppy and full of skips, but eh. I have to go back to college tomorrow and I don't have time for editing. :D