Minho’s first alarm goes off at 6:30. For a year now, he’s worked on a two alarm system. The first turns on his radio; it’s loud enough that he starts to stir, but not enough to properly wake him up unless the song is obnoxious. The second alarm was a gift from Kyuhyun: a five minute recording of Changmin. Even Minho, the king of sleeping, isn’t immune to the oh so soothing sound of Changmin screaming “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? GET IT MOVING!!! THIS ISN’T NAP TIME, LET’S GET GOING BEFORE I GET OLD!” at the top of his lungs. Normally, the first alarm is just barely starts waking him up before Changmin so eloquently finishes the deal. Today though, the radio alone is enough. It’s partially because he’d gone to bed earlier than normal, but mostly because of Kibum. He wasn’t sure if it was nervousness or excitement that he was feeling; either way it was enough to keep him awake. He gets out of bed and makes sure to turn off Changmin’s lovely serenade. After searching for his basketball shorts, he goes into the kitchen with the hope that Kibum is still asleep. He’s not sure why the thought of seeing a barely awake Kibum excites him, but when he sees that he’s already up there’s a small feeling of disappointment. What doesn’t disappoint him, however, is the smell of whatever Kibum’s cooking. He walks over to check if the coffee maker has run yet.

“Did you sleep ok?” Minho asks.

“Yeah, I actually slept really well. Thanks.” Kibum says, not turning around from the stove. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a comfortable bed.”

They both turn to look at each other, but immediately turn back away.

“I’m making pancakes, I hope that’s ok. I just wanted to do something to say thank you for letting me stay here,” Kibum says.

“Oh, you didn’t have to go to that trouble, dude. I’m happy to let you stay, to help out a friend.”

When Kibum doesn’t respond, Minho’s worried that he’s upset him. He finishes starting the coffee before moving so he’s standing next to Kibum.

“I actually really love pancakes, I just feel bad making you feel like you have to do work your first morning here,” he says quietly. Kibum fishes the finished ones out of his pan onto a plate, pouring a new set to replace them. Minho takes the plate but doesn’t move.

“Go eat, before they get cold.” Kibum instructs.

“Kibum, you’re my guest. I can wait til you’re done and ready to eat.”

Kibum doesn’t argue but also doesn’t look up.

“Is this the last batch?”

Kibum nods.

“I’ll set the table then.”

Minho puts his plate of pancakes on the table. He gets butter out of the fridge; it takes him longer to find the syrup. The coffee maker beeps and he makes two mugs, handing one to Kibum. He leans against the counter and watches him attempt to flip the pancakes. There’s something vulnerable about the sight of Kibum: still in what Minho assumes are his pajamas but hair wet from a shower, struggling against one pancake in particular. His quietness reminds Minho of when they first met and the realization that he still knows relatively little about Kibum strikes him. Kibum finally wins his battle against the pancake and his small celebration brings a smile to Minho’s face. He could get used to waking up early, he thinks, if he got to wake up to this sight. With Kibum’s pancakes finished, they both sit at the table.

“So why did your last roommate move out?” Kibum asks as he cuts his pancakes.

“To put it shortly, he got engaged.”

“What’s the longly then?”

“My roommate, Donghae, and I have been friends for a long time. Since high school, actually. He’s a social worker. We moved in here 5 or so years ago, before we were done with school. We tend to volunteer together a lot since we have similar interests and abilities and stuff. Anyways, when I was part of that group that helped attempt to repair your apartment building, he was in it too. He was assigned to a different area, like the 3rd or 4th floor. When we finished and came home, all he could talk about was this doctor that he was teamed up with. How cute and interesting he was. They’d exchanged numbers and it was pretty evident pretty quick that there was something serious between them. They started dating within a week or two, and he started having him -- his name is Hyukjae -- over pretty regularly. Which was fine at first, but then it started feeling weird to be here when he was over. Anyways I mentioned it to Donghae that I wasn’t feeling comfortable with the arrangement and when Donghae mentioned it to him, Hyukjae proposed. They got an apartment within a month and it’s been just me here since then.”

Kibum nods, slowly eating his pancakes.

“What about you?” Minho asks, shoving a huge bite into his mouth.

“What about me?”

“Have you ever had a roommate?”

“I did once, when I was in college. He hated me.”

“I can’t believe that anyone would hate you but I also know college roommates are the worst. What happened?”

Kibum laughs bitterly.

“Well for starters he told me he hated me and that we wouldn’t get along on the first day. He then proceeded to vaguely terrorize me weekly with fun little pranks like stealing literally all of my clothes when I went to shower, throwing water on me if I happened to fall asleep while he was still awake, and stealing my textbooks on a regular basis. He was close to the resident assistant, so I couldn’t complain to her about it. The RA was close to the building supervisor, so I couldn’t go to her about it. The director of housing was on the brink of retiring and wouldn’t do anything unless the president of the university explicitly demanded that he do it, so I couldn’t go to him. I ended up buying my suitcase so I could lock all of my clothes and textbooks up and take them with me wherever I went. I slept on benches a lot and in my classes. I think a lot of people thought I was homeless, not that I can blame them.”

“That’s terrible, Kibum. I’m sorry that you had to go through that.”

Silence ensues. Minho’s surprised that Kibum gives him so much detail, though he feels guilty for asking. His expression is unmistakably pained throughout the story and Minho wishes he could offer something to ease it. He looks at the clock and knows they need to get ready to leave before they miss the bus. He’s finished his pancakes, but Kibum is still eating. He stands and takes his plate to the sink.

“Since you made me pancakes, would you accept if I made you lunch?” he asks as he heads to the fridge.

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’m...I’ll be ok.”

Minho grabs his supplies out and closes the fridge before looking at Kibum.

“Kibum,” he starts softly. “You didn’t bring any food with you, nothing’s going to be open before we get to work, and even though you’re admin today, I know you don’t have time to go get anything while you’re on your lunch break without sacrificing your entire break. I know you don’t want to be burdensome but I’d rather you have at least a little something to take with you.”

Kibum sighs and after another bite of pancake replies with “I guess a small sandwich would be okay. Like half of what you normally take will be fine.”

Minho begins making his sandwich at the counter but as he thinks back to Kibum’s story, he notices Kibum watching him. He moves to the table and Kibum looks somewhat relieved that he can see what’s going into the sandwiches.

“Are you going to come sit in the teacher lounge with me during your break?” he asks.

Kibum looks surprised at the question.

“I understand if you don't want to. It's just if you are, I’ll just put your stuff in with mine so you don’t have to worry about anyone taking it, and by anyone I mean Kyuhyun or Suho.”
Kibum laughs.

“Yeah, I’ll come sit with you.”

*

Over time, their relationship gets more comfortable. When Minho comes home after volunteering on Saturday, he finds Kibum waiting at the dinner table with a pasta bake and a shy smile. On Sunday, they go grocery shopping. Minho makes a list, which Kibum refuses to add any requests to. As they walk down each aisle, anything that Kibum grabs Minho puts in his cart; when Kibum protests, Minho says that they can start sharing grocery bills when Kibum gets settled in. He also grabs anything that he sees Kibum longingly look at but not pick up. It costs a little extra to get so many treats, but the shy smile on Kibum’s face is more than worth the price. When they get home, they start cooking freezer meals for the week ahead. Minho’s surprised at Kibum’s cooking skills: Kibum reveals that he used to volunteer at a elderly care facility; he’d always wanted to learn how to cook so when there was a position open he jumped on it. Minho’s eager to try more of Kibum’s cooking and maybe learn how to get his onions to dice as nicely. Though there shouldn’t be anything charming watching someone washing and cutting potatoes, Minho is enchanted watching Kibum work, regardless.  By the next weekend, they figure out a system. Kibum offers to make their breakfasts if Minho will continue making lunches; their team work on freezer meals means that neither one has to put in more effort. Kibum will pay as close to half of the rent as he can manage and put money in the grocery fund as he can. In turn, Minho agrees to do his best to stop disallowing Kibum to pay for anything. With the ground rules settled, Minho watches Kibum start to allow himself to be. He spends more time in the living room and even makes mention of decorating his room. When Kibum starts asking for help with things like working the washing machine, Minho’s oddly elated. Though he tries not to let himself get his hopes up, it seems like a sign that Kibum is really intending to stay.

As happy as he is that Kibum feels comfortable at the apartment, Minho starts to doubt his own intentions. He continuously claims that it’s just ‘helping out a friend,’ but as he finds himself observing Kibum more and more, he starts to wonder if that’s the whole story. If it had been someone else, would he have volunteered his time and space and money so quickly? When he and Donghae had moved in together, though they shared the space they kept their time mostly separate. They didn’t cook for each other (unless they were hosting a get together); they didn’t watch each other shyly; they definitely didn’t have trouble making eye contact for more than a brief moment. He wants to ask Kibum how he feels about the situation, beyond the standard “is this ok?” and “how is this working for you?”, but he has a feeling that Kibum will just say what he thinks Minho wants to hear. Whether it’s for friendly motive or some desire to save him from whatever is troubling him, Kibum is here now. Minho just hopes that soon there’s a sign to let him know.

*

The sign comes the next Friday. Minho knows something is wrong when he comes out in the morning to a dark kitchen. It’s 7:00, so he’s not up early by any means; he’s also never seen Kibum sleep this late. He decides to give Kibum a few extra minutes: he starts the coffee maker, makes their lunches, even fixing a big omelette for them share. By the time 7:30 rolls around, he can’t stand it anymore. He taps on Kibum’s door. No answer. He knocks a little louder, calls out Kibum’s name. Still no answer. He tries the door and is somewhat surprised to find it unlocked; they’ve been working on trust since Kibum moved in. While Minho trusts Kibum, he knows that Kibum needs more time and evidence, so he lets Kibum decide the boundaries on his own time. He knows Kibum’s been locking his door since the first night, though he hasn’t directly talked to him about it. Minho feels a moment of pride: the unlocked door symbolized a big step for them. He opens the door just enough to peek in. The lights are still off and there’s a big lump on the bed that Minho assumes is Kibum. He softly calls out for him again before going in. He’s amused at the way that Kibum is cocooned in his blankets and feels guilty for trying to wake him up.

“Kibum, it’s time to get up. You’re going to be late if you sleep much longer.” he says, gently shaking his shoulder. Kibum’s warm to the touch, a little too warm for Minho’s liking. He sits down on the edge of the bed; he shakes a little harder and Kibum finally starts to stir. He blinks, coughs, and finally turns to look at Minho.

“Minho?”

“It’s 7:30 so I came to check on you.”

“It’s what time?” There’s a rasp to Kibum’s voice.

“Do you feel okay? You don’t look so good.” Minho asks, feeling Kibum’s forehead with the back of his hand. He’s very warm and Minho begins to wonder if he’s sick. It takes Kibum a moment to respond.

“I feel cold. And sore. And...and gross.”

“I’m going to go get the thermometer out of my room, okay? Just stay here.”

Kibum doesn’t respond, instead attempting to rearrange the blankets around himself. Minho’s glad that he and Donghae had started a first aid box and that Donghae let him keep it. He finds the thermometer quickly and heads back to Kibum’s room. Kibum’s all but asleep again.

“I’m going to take your temperature, okay? It’ll probably feel cold on your forehead but it’ll be quick I promise.”

Kibum attempts a hum in response, resulting in a cough. Minho’s suspicion is confirmed: Kibum’s temperature is 102℉. He knows Kibum’s in no shape to go to work but he also doesn’t want to leave him alone. At least it’s a Friday and there’ll be no need to find a substitute teacher. There’s a warmth on Minho’s hand and he sees Kibum trying to reach for him.

“I don’t think I can go to work today” he croaks. Minho laughs.

“No, Kibum. I think you should stay in bed today. Are you going to be okay if I go to work?”

There’s a pause and then a hummed yes.

“I’m going to bring you some water and crackers, is there anything else you want?”

Kibum makes a disgusted face at the mention of crackers but doesn’t request anything. Minho goes and gets the promised goods as well as an extra blanket from his room and the box of tissues from the living room. He arranges them on Kibum’s nightstand, then sits on the edge of the bed again.

“I put it all right here for you. I’ll keep my phone on in case you need me, but if you really need someone and you can’t get ahold of me, here’s the neighbor’s number as well. His name is Siwon and he’s really nice.”

Kibum reaches for him again and Minho holds his hand. He brushes Kibum’s bangs out of his eyes; he’s almost asleep again and Minho doesn’t want to keep him awake. He gives Kibum’s hand a gentle squeeze before standing.

“I’ll try to come check on you at lunch, alright?”

Kibum hums in acknowledgement before pulling the blanket over his head.

When Minho gets to school, he finds Leeteuk and explains the situation. He’s understanding and tells Minho that he’ll find someone to cover Minho’s class a little longer so that he can go home for lunch. Minho’s able to put his worry on the back burner in order to teach; it’s enough to fool his students but not enough to fool his coworkers. When he brings his students to the mixed use room for Jonghyun’s Friday Music Extravaganza, Jonghyun doesn’t waste any time asking what’s wrong. Minho doesn’t answer Jonghyun’s question but announces that Heechul (who has a half teaching, half administration position like Kibum does) will be getting the class.  He hurries out of the building and towards home. Unable to remember if they have soup or not, he stops at the restaurant a block from the apartment to order some. When he gets home, the apartment is still quiet. He puts a little bit of soup in a mug and, after knocking, ventures into Kibum’s room again. The blinds are open but Kibum is still mostly under the blankets. The crackers on the nightstand are untouched but Minho’s encouraged by the empty water glass. He sets the soup down and sits down. There’s a muffled “Minho?” from under the blankets followed by attempts to move them; Minho pulls the blankets back enough for Kibum’s face to be visible.

“Did you get some more sleep?”

Kibum nods, coughs.

“I brought you soup. Do you want to try a sip?”

There’s a pause, followed by a barely audible “what kind?”

“It’s beef bone soup. The lady at the corner always makes it and everyone I know swears that it has magical properties.”

Kibum wrinkles his nose but there’s a light in his eyes.

“That’s my favorite soup but I don’t think my tummy can handle it.”

“How about I put in the fridge for later and we try again when I get home.”

“Aren’t you home?”

“No, I’m on lunch break. Heechul is supposed to cover for me so I can make it back.”

“Oh.” There’s a tinge of sadness in Kibum’s voice. Minho grabs the thermometer off the nightstand. Kibum’s fever hasn’t budged.

“I’m going to put this up and get you more water and a tylenol.”

By the time Minho comes back from the kitchen, Kibum’s trying to pull off all his blankets.

“I’m hot now.”

Something in Minho’s brain urges him to say ‘I know’, but he just silently helps pull the blankets before arranging them on the side so that it’ll be easy to pull them back on when Kibum inevitably gets cold again. He checks his watch: his lunch break is technically ending and he needs to get back. He lets Kibum settle before saying a goodbye.

Though he does his best to clean up quickly, it’s still after 6pm by the time Minho gets home. Kibum’s sleeping, buried under his mountain of blankets again, so he lets him be. After heating up some of the soup -- who knows if Kibum will be able to eat it before it spoils and he hopes it’ll keep him running well enough that he won’t get whatever sickness this is -- he starts cleaning the apartment. He’s in the middle of washing dishes when he hears coughing, followed by the unmistakable sound of vomiting. After rinsing the dishes in his hand, he goes to check on Kibum. He’s in tears but it seems like he got most of the vomit in the bucket Minho had brought in for him.

“You alright, buddy?”

Kibum hiccups and shakes his head. Minho walks in further and realizes that somehow, Kibum’s gotten some of it in his hair. He sits as close as feels safe and reaches out his hand, which Kibum gingerly takes.

“I know throwing up isn’t any fun and it probably hurt, but it’s going to be okay,” he says in his most soothing voice. It’s times like these that being a kindergarten teacher is most convenient. He lets Kibum have his little cry, rubbing circles into the back of his hand.

“If I turn the water on for you, do you think you can manage to shower?” he asks when Kibum seems to have composed himself as much as possible. He takes a few deep breaths before shaking his head. Minho knows that Kibum needs to get cleaned, even if it’s just washing his hair.

“Do you think it’d be okay if I washed your hair for you?” he offers.

Kibum looks at him, seemingly unsure of what to make of it. Minho hopes he hasn’t crossed a line but it’s the only solution that seems realistic given the circumstances.

“I promise I’m not going to try anything weird. I just want you to be able to get better and I’m sure you’re ready to have clean hair again.”

“I...that should be okay.”

“Are you ready or do you need a minute?”

“Yeah just...just give me a second.”

Minho goes to stand to empty the bucket and get the hot water running, but when Kibum doesn’t let go of his hand he simply waits at the bed. Eventually Kibum hands him the bucket, which Minho sets down temporarily in order to help him stand. Once he’s on his feet, Minho guides him to the bathroom and helps him sit down next to the tub. Minho starts the water so it can warm up; he empties the bucket and gets a few towels while he’s waiting.

“Do you just use shampoo or do you like conditioner too?”

“I like both but at this point just shampoo is fine.”

After making sure the water is warm enough to be soothing, he positions Kibum so he’s leaning on the tub with his head far enough over that the water go down the drain instead of on the floor. He puts a towel on Kibum’s back, just in case; he notices how tensed his shoulders are and pats him reassuringly. As he starts wetting Kibum’s hair he wishes he’d thought to play some music. He’s not sure how Kibum’s head is, so he refrains from saying anything more than little warnings about using water and apologizing for the occasional hair pull. It’s not the first time he’s had to wash someone’s hair: over the course of their respective friendships, he’d washed Kyuhyun and Suho’s hair on more than a few occasions. He’d even washed Sooyoung’s hair after a particularly gross party foul, mostly because he was the only person that she knew there and she was too drunk to do it herself. There’s something different about it this time though, and as he does his best to get Kibum’s hair completely clean, a soft peaceful atmosphere develops. Kibum seems to enjoy it too, the tension slowly disappearing from his shoulders. When he’s done, he takes another towel and does his best to dry him off. Kibum sits up when he’s finished and takes the towel to dry his face off. Minho doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look so cute when sick: Kibum’s cheeks are flushed from the fever and his half-dried hair is sticking out in all sorts of odd ways. He realizes he’s staring and looks away, but not before Kibum notices.

“Do I look that bad?” he asks, voice stronger than before.

“You don’t look well, but you don’t look bad.”

“So if I don’t look good but I also don’t look bad, what do I look like?”

Minho studies Kibum’s face a little more before answering, now that he has a proper reason to. Though everything about Kibum has become pretty to him in a way, his cheeks are what stand out right now. Though his fever worries him, Minho can’t deny that the pink hue it’s bringing to his face isn’t anything less than lovely.

“Like a peach.”

Kibum attempts a shy laugh and Minho hopes that somewhere under the fever flush he’s blushing.

“I’m going to go change your sheets, when you’re ready to get up just let me know.”

Kibum nods as Minho stands. As he strips the sheets off of Kibum’s bed, he figures he should was his own as well, shoving both sets in the washing machine. He hears another hiccup followed by what sounds like dry heaving. When he gets back to Kibum’s room, he takes his temperature again; it’s gone up half a degree. Kibum’s shivering now and so Minho replaces the towel around his shoulders with one of the warmer blankets. As he’s adjusting it, Kibum seems to reach for his hand but doesn’t take it. The heaving starts again, so Minho sits down next to him and rubs his back to try and keep him calm.

“If you want me to stop, just say.”

Kibum manages to squeak out a “please don’t stop’”, so Minho continues until the episode passes. From where he’s sitting, he can see the clock. It’s already 9pm; he gets up and finds his phone, letting the coordinator at his volunteer program know that he won’t be able to make it the next day.

“Are you going to bed?” Kibum asks, voice hushed. Minho would be lying if he said he wasn’t tired but he also knows that he’ll probably be too worried to sleep.

“Maybe. Do you want to lay down again?”

Kibum nods, then adds “But I don’t really want to be alone.”

Minho looks at Kibum’s bed; it’s a single, and while they could fit together on it, Kibum’s a little too sick for that. His own bed, though, is a double; room enough for the both of them (assuming Kibum doesn’t spread out too much) to sleep spaced out.

“Why don’t you come sleep in my room? My bed is bigger, so we could put pillows or something in between us. Then you’re not alone and I don’t keep getting up to check on you. I’ll be right there if you need me.”

Kibum looks at the floor, tilting his head.

“I...I think I’d like that. If it’s okay,” he says, looking up at Minho.

“Are you ready to move or do you need a bit?”

Kibum attempts to stand, but it’s clear that he isn’t strong enough for it. He reaches out for Minho who catches him. Kibum tries to stand and move a few times but after a minute or two, Minho simply carries him from one room to the other. He sets him down on the side of the bed nearer the bathroom then goes back to get Kibum’s pillow and things. He grabs all the extra pillows he has to put in between them. Once Kibum’s settled and the pillow wall is made, Minho takes what might be the quickest shower of his entire life. He’s surprised to see Kibum still awake when he comes out of the bathroom.

“My bed not as comfy as yours?”

“I was waiting for you to get back. If you’re going to let me sleep in your bed with you, I can at least wait til you’re in it to sleep. Now that you’re out I make no promises though.”

Minho laughs at the response and gets into bed.

“Thank you for taking care of me today,” Kibum whispers as Minho turns off the light main light. He had found a nightlight, also courtesy of Donghae, and plugged it in just in case Kibum needed to get up.

“You’re welcome. I can confidently say you’re the best patient I’ve had to take care of so far, seeing as you just slept most of the time and didn’t throw anything at me.”

“No one’s ever taken care of me like this before so I just tried to do what seemed easiest for both of us.”

Minho’s heart drops at the comment; he wants to ask more, but with Kibum’s fever he isn’t sure if he’d actually meant to share that information. Minho can’t tell if its the illness or if Kibum’s actually crying, but either way he reaches out in an attempt to find his hand. Kibum’s is already resting on the pillow wall and he wonders how long he’s been waiting. As he intertwines their fingers,  Kibum goes silent for a while and instead Minho begins humming a tune.

“What song is that?” Kibum asks when Minho reaches the end of it.

“A lullaby my mom used to sing to me when I would get sick. If it’s bothering you I can stop.”

“No, no. It’s...nice, actually. I like it. Your voice is nice. All of you is nice. Especially your personality and your hair.”

Minho’s heart flutters at the compliments and so he starts humming through it again.

"Do I really look like a peach?" 

"Yes, Kibum. You have the pinkest peachiest fever I've ever seen."

Kibum seems satisfied with the answer. He starts shifting his head around, so Minho reaches over and moves his bangs out of his face. As he continues humming, he hears Kibum’s breathing slow and his grasp on Minho’s hand loosen. The nightlight is just bright enough that he can see Kibum’s chest rise and fall, and its in that moment that he reaches an epiphany. This whole time, all these weeks since they met, he’s been trying to figure out what makes Kibum’s company so special that he’d been willing to lay out everything for him. As he falls asleep, he thinks back to earlier in the day, to Kibum’s peach colored cheeks, and realizes that for him, in this moment, it’s love.