There were too many memories in this house. Memories lingered in every corner, and it will undeniably be hard to let them go. Himchan ran his fingers across an uneven portion of the wall. He remembers the pans flying, and the expensive ceramic one doing permanent damage that one night his mother came to visit and found a half- man sprawled on the floor. That woman can hit like a professional boxer, he muses – and she surely can scream like a seasoned announcer. He remembers her violently sniffing away tears and screaming at the top of her lungs, “I didn’t raise you to be this – this… out there!”, ever conservative and ever old-fashioned, she couldn’t even utter the words. She said she was cursing at him inside her head, she makes a sign of the cross in prayer, asking for forgiveness after not uttering any curses. She kicked the man out soon after, sent his clothes flying across the road. She turns to her son, spanks his sorry little bottom, and continues to tell him that she’s still praying he’d be able to keep his sword in his sheath until marriage, or even just for a year. Himchan glances at the man hauling heavy boxes in the room. He’s gone thin, but his arms had retained their defined, muscular shape. The man lifts the box, the veins on his arms popping on cue. Himchan gulps.

Mother, I’ve sheathed my sword far longer than you could imagine.

Please stop praying.

Himchan steals a few more glances from the other man. Impure thoughts, again, but Himchan believes that he has been a better person with Yongguk around. He has changed – for the better. Had it been any other man and any other time – maybe even the Himchan a year ago, he would have jumped at any opportunity to seduce, to corrupt, to consume. After all, this was how everything started, he was the predator and Yongguk was the unknowing prey. But the more they spent their time together, Himchan found himself caught. Caught in an inescapable web he had woven for himself, with Yongguk as the unknowing predator – still unaware of the prey he had caught.

His thoughts linger to a pair of boots stashed in a box. It was the pair he wore that night, that night they first met. He remembered every single detail quite vividly, the way Yongguk was so inviting and the way he danced to the music. He remembered the way the other man dragged him across the room, he swore he can still feel his fingers in his arm, that cheeky smile and the way the sweat travelled down the rapper’s slender neck – he gulps more, with the warm sensation filling his stomach, he feels…the other Himchan raging below. Flushed, he reaches for his buttons to adjust, it’ll get uncomfortable soon, he rus

“You need help with that?”, the unexpected quip.

“W-w-with what???”, he asks too loudly, stuttering every syllable thru.

Yongguk chuckles, his low voice resonating in parts of Himchan he could only pray to tame.

“With that,” he points.

“YOU’RE GESTURING AT THE ENTIRETY OF ME” he panics.

“You’re so high strung,” he laughs more. Himchan imagines the sound to be a more sinister than it actually was.

“The hell you talkin’ about?!”, paranoid, stiff…in person and in different places.

“You’ve been staring at those shoes, you need me to pack them for you?” he finally clarifies.

Well…

I do need some…

…packing.

--------------

“It’s almost lunch, isn’t it?” the other man speaks from the other side of the room.

Himchan lifts his head up and peeks at the clock, fifteen minutes away from lunch – surprised, he looks at the abandoned kitchen and mentally hits himself.

“Oh, Jesus, I forgot all about that. I’m so sorry! I’ll just call take out or maybe just run off to the nearest store, hey, what about ramyun, I remember you were craving hard yesterday? Yeah that sounds great doesn’t--” The other man laughs.

“Chill, Channie, we’re good, I’m not dying. I was just going to ask what you felt like having,” came the raspy, wheezing voice, all from laughter.

“Oh,” Himchan was flushed. He didn’t realize the time. For many reasons. For one, he liked spending time with Yongguk. Oh, did he like that very much. He was delighted and ecstatic when the man offered to help him with his things, and boy, were there a lot of those garbage he had lying around.

The difficult part in packing is realizing that you have stashed away half garbage, one fourth usable things and one fourth junk you swore you were going to use again. Himchan looked around at the pile of garbage he had accumulated over the years. He smiles, each piece had their own story to tell, and he did spent quite a bit of time telling Yongguk all about it. The taller man was very receptive, he listens really well. But the best part? He reacts like every single thing is exciting, is amazing, is wonderful – he makes Himchan feel like he was exciting, amazing, wonderful… like the life he lead and leads still is as exciting, as amazing and as wonderful as how his eyes expressed them to be. He makes Himchan feel… He makes Himchan – feel.

“Hey, how about seafood? Your favourite, yeah?” Himchan beams. Yongguk deserves a treat today, might as well splurge a bit.

“Seafood ramen sounds super gre--” the door swings open.

“Yo.”

Yongguk’s eyes stuck to the door.

---------

“I made sure they didn’t put ice on it, I know you hate it watered down. Ah, god, Channie, what did I tell you about defrosting your freezer? You have to make sure you replace all the ice after!” the man fusses around the kitchen.

“Maaan, stop nagging me, I just forgot, okay? I’ll go get the ice if it would get you to zip it,” the sassy one retorts.

“If I had like a penny for every single time you miss out on basic living etiquette I’d be super rich by now, with all the Hermes and Prada we’d want in the world like,”

Himchan stands up from where he was sitting, walks to the taller man and shakes him silly.

“Aaaaahhhh, shuuut uuuup,” he says while shaking the man. The other laughs and nudges him with his elbow.

Yongguk looked at the two, amused. The familiarity was…cute? From the moment Jonghyun popped his foot in, he acted like he owned the house, walking straight to the table and punching Himchan on the arm. He proceeded to bring out tubs of food, but not before retrieving the placemats from under the microwave. He proceeded to take out the silverware and a couple of bowls from the lower compartments below the sink, and some cups inside the unused oven. He finishes with a small dish rag strewn to the sides.

He knew exactly where everything was, he didn’t even need to check. And not once did he acknowledge Yongguk’s presence.

But neither did Himchannie.

“I’ll…uh, go get the ice if that’s… um…” he trails off, his voice drowning in the bickering.

The two stops abruptly.

“Oh.” The other starts.

“Ohhhh, hey maaan, sorry I didn’t well, I just, I don’t know really,” he laughs candidly.

“Jonghyun, man, you are?” he reaches his hand.

“Um, Yongguk,” the hesitant reply.

---

Between Yongguk and his thoughts, he knew exactly who Jonghyun was. He was the tall, slender, picturesque figure who lingered next to Himchan whenever he was at school. Yongguk swears they have bumped into each other several times while waiting at the gates but he thinks neither of them would acknowledge. On the many occasions Yongguk had lounged around Himchan’s school, he would always catch a glimpse of the two walking around campus, sharing an umbrella, or simply happily chatting the day away. Some days he sees the other man insisting on walking Himchan home, the latter always rejects, much to the others clear dismay.

Some days Jonghyun would stand by the gates to smoke. He wouldn’t notice, but Yongguk would be next to the column where he stood, trying to avoid all the smoke. He always seemed like he was in deep thought. Yongguk wondered if he should try and be friends with this man. Every time he sees him, he plays with the thought – but at the last minute, he shies away.

Jonghyun smells like green tea. The scent always wafted from his direction. The rapper was convinced he bathed on green tea. It was a pleasant scent. Yongguk tried to shake the thoughts off of his head.  He would probably get his scent from fifty meters away. Green tea smells great, really. It’s pleasant. It seems Jonghyun is too, but this dinner, he feels like he’s starting to resent it. Both green tea and Jonghyun.

---

Jonghyun shifts in his seat, trying to adjust his leg pressed heavily against the floor. He eyes Yongguk for a while longer, he was sheepish and timid, and eats like a bird. In contrast, there’s Himchan, loud, obnoxious, and eats like he’s eating for two… two sumo wrestlers. He remembers a certain choir friend in high school. Yeah, that Daehyun and Himchan together… they could definitely run a buffet into bankruptcy.

It’s no secret that Himchan fancies this guy, to Jonghyun at least. Himchan doesn’t notice but he talks about the man all day, every single day that they are together. It used to grate on Jonghyun’s nerves, but this days, Yongguk just seems like a permanent fixture on Himchan, like his appendix or something. Jonghyun wonders if surgically removing Yongguk was also an option.

Himchan wasn’t Jonghyun’s style. No, not at all. He likes them timid and shy too, and charming. Himchan is leagues away from timid and shy. He’s convinced that Himchan descended from dinosaurs – the loud, stompy kind, because that’s exactly how he is. Loud, stompy, and knows how to make an entrance. Himchan had lead a life of undesirability. He used to be a nerd in high school, and Jonghyun knows Himchan is overcompensating for the lost years. These days, he acts like a diva and struts like a beauty queen. Bow down to the Queen Kim Him—Jonghyun snorts.

“Yah, quit vacuuming the food!” There Himchan went.

“I’m doing you a favor, you have to cut back on the rice,” he laughs.

Yongguk smiles a bit, and Jonghyun catches that. This guy is… boring, he muses. He’s way different from the charismatic force Himchan constantly talks about. And the appeal, he just couldn’t see it. No matter how many times they’ve come across each other’s paths – there really was nothing special about him. And for that, Jonghyun resents him.

To catch the eye of the playful Himchan -

It only took one boring man.

---

“He’s…interesting, yeah?” Yongguk says out of nowhere, taping a few more boxes.

“Oh?” Himchan says absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on a pair of reeeaaally slim pants. He’s amazed he used to fit in those. He would probably fit in them now, dancing all his fat away.

“You…seem to get along really well, that’s nice,” there was a sigh.

Himchan raised his brows, he caught that sigh. Looking over the other man, he saw Yongguk pull his face into a frown. In a split second, it was gone.

“What?” he says, eyeing the other.

“What what?” Yongguk stares at him.

“You… don’t like him?” he asks. Hopeful. Somewhat.

Himchan was many things – but among the many things, he was hopeful. Always hopeful – painfully, eternally so.

“Well…do you like him?” was the response.

Himchan did not expect that.

A/N: Long chapter. Picking up where we left of. Hope you’re still around.