Okay, I officially at titles, so I'm going to ease my mind and not put any.

Also, this is BaDeul.

It's total crap.

I don't know what this is.

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You’re annoying.

I don’t like you.

Somehow, Sunwoo always finds a way to inject those statements in his daily conversations with Junghwan.

“You made waffles for breakfast again,” he states rather than asks as he goes to the tiny kitchen in the dorm they shared. “You always make waffles, it’s annoying. I don’t like you.”

To which Junghwan just responds with a smile. “I thought you liked waffles for breakfast.”

“I do,” Sunwoo answers, shoveling a whole piece in his mouth, getting even more annoyed as he realizes for the millionth time that Junghwan makes better waffles than his mother, and he immediately sends a mental apology to his Mom and blames it on Junghwan. “But you’re still annoying and I don’t like you.”

Junghwan smiles. “Okay.”

#

Sunwoo pushes his notes away and rubs at his stomach which, as off the moment, is growling something fierce and unintelligible, but Sunwoo gets the message anyway.  He’s hungry, and he isn’t going to get another smidgen of concentration until he gets something to shut his tummy up. He’s contemplating whether to get a cup of ramen, deciding it’s probably going to take up much of his time, and to be frank he doesn’t have much of that, his report being due just five—no, four—hours from now. He’s just chosen to settle for crackers instead when a steaming cup of delicious-smelling ramen magically appears in front of him.

Well, not really, because the still-hot-he-can-practically-see –smoke-clouds-floating-up ramen cup is connected to a hand, and it doesn’t take a genius to deduce that the hand is connected to Junghwan’s shoulders, and Junghwan’s annoying smiling face.

“What are you doing poking around in the dead of night,” he growls, but his stomach’s singing a much louder opera than him, so he takes the ramen cup anyway. “Go to sleep, you’re annoying.”

“Okay,” Junghwan answers.

“And I still don’t like you.”

“Okay.”

#

It’s some ungodly hour in the morning and Sunwoo’s turning the room upside down because for heaven’s sake, all the pencils have magically disappeared and he doesn’t have the foggiest idea where they went off to, and he needs those darned pencils right now.

He turns then, slumping slightly, as he’s probably never gonna find those freaking pencils, they’re probably hiding somewhere just to spite him—and almost has a heart attack.

“What the heck are you doing, are you trying to scare me to death?” he snarls at Junghwan, who’s holding out a bunch of pencils to him.

“I heard you poking around,” Junghwan says, yawning a bit. “I have your pencils, I saw them lying all over your room so I picked them up. Sorry I forgot to give them to you.”

“You’re always picking my stuff up,” he says and grabs the pencils. “Go back to sleep, you look like a zombie. I don’t like you.”

“Okay,” Junghwan says, and shuffles back to his room.

#

Sunwoo’s crying.

Sort of.

His shoulders are hitching up and down and his eyes are leaking salty liquid and there’s probably snot all over his pillow. He’s crying because he misses his parents, and that sound so weak, because he’s in college already, he could practically father some little Sunwoo’s at this point in time and he’s still moping about having left home and not having his family around him.

He tries to stop the tears, but it turns out o be  huge mistake, ‘cause they come careening down his face at top speed like they were race cars, and now he’s really sure there’s snot all over his pillows, and he pulls the covers tighter around himself, but everything still feels cold.

Then the covers are lifted, he’s being lifted, and he’s being gathered into someone’s arms, and he takes in a gigantic gulp of air and smells the aroma of pear juice, which he hates, by the way, and only one person in this room likes it.

Lee Junghwan.

Who he doesn’t like.

“Junghwan,” he says, and sniffles.

“Yeah.”

“Junghwan,” he says again, and he feels the boy hug get a little tighter, and he doesn’t mind at all.

“Yeah.”

“Junghwan,” he says, and sniffs again, and he thinks that pear doesn’t really seem so bad, it’s an oddly comforting smell, and he feels the tears slow down.

“I think I like you.”

He feels Junghwan’s laughter. It courses through his whole body.

“Okay,” he hears Junghwan say.

“Just a little, though,” he amends. “I like you a little bit.”

“Okay,” Junghwan says. “I love you too, Sunwoo. But not just a little bit.”