• • •

            Youngjae did go to other side of the row to check on the man that was displaced. Along the way he pocketed some pens and rulers he found on the floor, for the mysterious new stranger he just met.

            Youngjae reached the very end and shook awake the guy sleeping. “What happened to the desk that used to be to the right of you?”

            “Oh that?” The yawning man shrugged, “We shoved it overboard during the desk shuffle earlier.” He fell back to sleep, leaving Youngjae horrified. He peeked over the abyss and fell back, scared. Nope, no one was surviving that.

            “Youngjae?” A voice asked.

            “JB!” Youngjae whirled to look at the voice talking to him, “I thought you got tossed overboard along with your desk!”

            JB laughed a little sadly, “I’m sharing a desk with JR now. Did you really come to check on me? That’s so sweet.”

            “Who’s this with the two meters desk on the other side taking up all the space?” JR asked, annoyed.

            “Um…”

            “This is literally bullcrap man,” JR continued, “You can’t do that. Do you know how it took JB to build his desk from scratch? And they tossed it over just like that because of a stupid shuffle.”

            “It’s okay. They had to.” JB said sadly.

            “I’m sorry to hear that,” Youngjae grimaced, “Do you want my desk? You made it after all, you should have it.”

            “His desk is beside Himchan,” JR whispered to his companion rather loudly, “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

            “I wouldn’t even think about taking your desk!” JB cried, “Thank you for offering but no.”

            Youngjae couldn’t tell if the quick refusal was actually because JB was so nice, or because of Himchan. “If you are sure then…”

            “Oh yes,” JB and JR nodded frantically, “We are very content here. Crowded but content.”

            “See you later?” Youngjae waved and left. His two friends waved back enthusiastically, relieved at something or another.

• • •

            “Himchan?” Youngjae shouted as he returned to his desk. Himchan was no where to be found. It was early morning already, and people were starting to stir, shuffling and murmurings to each other and they unpacked their toothbrushes.

            “Has anyone seen Himchan?” Youngjae asked, one man pointed in a direction and Youngjae ran that way, worried that something might have happened.

            He found the pretty man standing by a desk, chin in his hand in a considering pose. There were a small crowd of people all around him and Youngjae shouldered his way to the front.

            “What is going on?” Youngjae asked.

            “We think this man is dead.” A person on Youngjae’s left informed him gravely, pointing at the still figure slumping forward in the seat.

            “Oh no!”

            Himchan rubbed his chin, “Well.” He made a grand display of putting two fingers on the prone body’s neck, humming. “Yes. Yes he is dead.”

            “Awwww, no!” The people in the crowd murmured, before having a respectful moment of silence for the out of service man.

            “Does anyone know how long he’s been this way?” Himchan asked the crowd, his remark ending the quiet, reflective moment.

            “He’s been in this position since yesterday.” A voice informed.

            “In that case,” Himchan sighed solemnly, as if he was imparting some grave, important news, “I claim his chair.”

            Silence.

            “I claim this table!” A voice in the crowd cried. “I claim the rug!” Said another. Youngjae added to the clamour, “I claim his supplies and his umbrella if he has one!”

• • •

            “I’m impressed,” Himchan told his shorter companion as they walked back to their station. Himchan got two people to hoist the chair for him, while Youngjae was carrying a large box full of pens, papers, folders, paper clips and a yellow umbrella.

            “Why?” Youngjae asked over the top of his box.

            “You never claim things.”

            “I feel bad doing it.”

            “But he’s dead. The patrol is alerted and they’ll be here in an hour to toss him overboard. He has no use for these things.”

            “But still…” Youngjae coughed nervously, “I don’t know. It feels like we are predators absorbing everything that ever made up his identity.”

            “That’s the circle of life.” Himchan said, “When a man dies or is promoted to another Shelf, his stuff is free for circulation after a day has passed.”

            “I still think it’s terrible.”

            “Do me a favour.” Himchan frowned.

            “What?”

            “Shut up.”

            “Oh, okay.” Youngjae sighed. On some days he felt like Himchan’s sidekick.

            “And also another thing.”

            “What?”

            “I want you to claim all of my stuff when I get promoted okay? I don’t want some creepy putting his fingers all over my Desk, not knowing her worth or even taking care of her.” Himchan shuddered.

            “Oh, okay…” Youngjae said, “What will I do with my Desk then? I’m kind of attached to it since JB made it for me.”

            “Oh that old thing?” Himchan sighed dismissively, “Use it to build a cubicle or something. I don’t know. My table polish is in the third drawer okay?”

            Youngjae sighed.

• • •

            “By the way,” Himchan swivelled around in his new comfortable chair. “What was that new guy’s desk like? The one that’s two meters long?”

            “Oh,” Youngjae looked up from his work, considering. “Actually I don’t remember.”

            “What?” Himchan hissed. “How do you not remember a table like that?”

            “Sorry! But I was distracted!”

            Himchan raised his eyebrow. “Seriously?”

            “Yes!” Youngjae blushed.

            Himchan hummed and turned back to his desk, “If I didn’t know you were a workaholic bum I would almost say that you’re in love!”

            “Shut up!” Youngjae threw a pen at his companion, who laughed as it missed him by half a meter. The red pen travelled a few meters onwards before striking a gruff looking man in the back of the head. Youngjae quickly looked away and pretended he was busy.

            “You have to go look at his Desk for me again today though. And this time actually remember what it’s like.” Himchan said, serious.

            “Fine,” Youngjae tried to sound glum, but he was secretly glad for the excuse for a midnight rendezvous with the handsome stranger.

• • •

            Youngjae finished his work at eight and took his box of supplies with him to visit Daehyun. The man was slowly turning circles in his chair, distracted. He had borrowed a pen from someone and had piles of work on his desk, mostly untouched.

            “Hey,” Youngjae said, setting the box down by Daehyun’s workstation.

            “Oh hi!” Daehyun sat up brightly. “You came back! And there’s an umbrella!” Daehyun picked up the yellow umbrella happily.

            “It’s not much, but maybe it’ll help,” Youngjae said humbly. “Did it rain while I was gone?”

            “Oh no it didn’t, thank goodness!” Daehyun tried out the umbrella, impressed. His parachute bag, if that’s what it really contained, was stuffed under his desk.

            “Do you need a lamp?” Youngjae was startled to notice that all the desks around them were lit except for Daehyuns, “A lamp and some extension cords?”

            “Oh right.” Daehyun smiled, embarrassed. “I actually had to stop working when it got dark, so I’m kind of behind. I didn’t know people on the lower floors got so much work!”

            “Its like that,” Youngjae said, “But the work is very manageable. I’ll get you a lamp and help you complete the overflow.”

            “Oh, you don’t really have to.” Daehyun couldn’t contain his smile, “But I’d really appreciate it.”

            “No I actually enjoy being an accountant.” Youngjae laughed, “Is that weird?”

            “Not at all. Were you on this floor your whole life?” Daehyun shifted over, so there was space on his chair where Youngjae could sit.

            “Oh, I can stand. It’s fine, really.” Youngjae shook his head.

            “I insist,” Daehyun smiled mischievously before hooking one arm around Youngjae’s waist. The handsome man was stronger than he looked. He pulled the younger down next to him. 

            “Oh um…” Youngjae hoped it was too dark for the face three inches away to notice his blush, “I used to be on the manual memory Shelf about three hundred floors lower.”

            “Really?” Daehyun asked. His voice was gorgeous and somewhat breathy, “Tell me more.” 

            “We didn’t have ceiling.” Youngjae tried, blushing. Daehyun kept his arm around him. The two were pressed close and Youngjae could feel the other’s warmth, despite the layers.

            “No ceilings?”

            “Just grates above and below. Everyone’s business was your business and you could hear everything. Sometimes a pen would fall between the holes from the Shelf above and poke you in the eye. Not that it happened to me, thank goodness.”

            “Good. Your eyes are really too lovely.”

            Youngjae was sure his cheeks were burning. This strange new guy was causing him to act weird and no amount of darkness could conceal the heat of his face.

            “But…I mean…it happened to my friend though—the pen dropping through the ceiling holes thing. He ordered a glass eye from the distribution floor and I don’t think it had arrived yet.”

            “I’m terribly sorry about your friend.” Daehyun winced. “I guess when Distribution is so far away things take a long time to get back to you.”  

            "So how did you end down here anyways?” Youngjae asked.

            “My parachute. I was bored and I wanted to know how tall the tower really was.”

            “You are kidding me.”

            “No really. I ordered it from the Distribute. I had extra credits and I was bored. I knocked out a window and jumped.”

            “No way.”

            “I fell for thirty minutes straight.”

            “Why would you do that?” Youngjae asked, blinking innocently at Daehyun. “You had walls! And probably air conditioning! Maybe even cubicles and lights set right into the ceiling controlled by switches!”

            Daehyun shrugged and smiled. “Well I don’t regret it. I found you after all.” He began to lean in, captivated by the other's chocolate coloured eyes.

            Youngjae stared, mouth open, before suddenly noticing how close their faces were. The boy jumped out of the other’s arms quickly.

            “I have to go now. Himchan will be wondering where I am.” Youngjae muttered, shuffling.

            “Oh.” Daehyun looked disappointed. “See you tomorrow?” He asked hopefully. And who was this Himchan? He'll have to investigate this.

            “See you!” Youngjae gave the handsome man a brief smile before dashing away.

            Daehyun watched his retreat and sighed. The other boy had turned out to be even lovelier than he expected. After his jump. the Tower had promised him one thing for good behaviour, and he had an inkling of what he wanted to ask for.

             Daehyun openned his bottom drawer and took a plain manilla folder. Inside was a file. Paperclipped to the top was a cute picture of a somewhat sheepish accountant. Daehyun the picture with his calloused thumb, and smiled.

           "Don't worry Yoo Youngjae. You'll be mine soon."

• • •

AN: I can write deeply about philosophy, reasoning, and the universe, but when it comes to romance I am reduced to a childish inability to compose reasonable dialogue. ;__; This chapter is dedicated to Snowy, because without you I'd be failing so badly right now.