Step one. Boil water.

"Yah! Hurry up!" Heungsoo hollers as he pounds on the bathroom door. There is a muffled grunt, followed by the roar of rushing water. Unbelievable. The bastard was taking a goddamn shower with only ten minutes left before their first class. Granted, it was Intro to Stats with Professor Park of the incomprehensible Busan accent, but he was sick of squinting at the back of the lecture hall.

Heungsoo lets out a sigh. He had asked himself the same question a million times, but he still couldn't understand why he put up with his of a roommate-slash-best-friend. Maybe it’s the fact that Namsoon had spent senior year holed up in the library with him, studying his off just so they could go to the same college together. Or maybe it’s because Heungsoo’s heart is actually a mushy, pink marshmallow that was incapable of abandoning puppies who couldn’t take care of themselves

"Done," Namsoon announces cheerfully, casually strolling out as if he had all the time in the world.  Heungsoo glares at him and tosses him his backpack (which he had already filled with textbooks, pencil case and a sandwich) before pushing open the front door. 

“Don’t forget your keys,” he grunts as he fishes out his own set from his pocket. “If you make me miss class again because you locked yourself out I swear I’ll-”

“Disown me and then take me back after I treat you to lunch and do a bit of grovelling.” Namsoon flashes an impish smile and breaks into a run. “Race you there!”

Step two.  Add the noodles once water begins boiling. Don't forget the magical MSG powder that makes everything delicious.

The start of a new school year has always inspired grand resolutions for productivity. This year, however, Heungsoo can feel his resolve crumbling at a much faster rate than before. He is barely a month into the term and is already three lectures and two assignments behind, all thanks to a certain roommate.

“Don’t you dare leave us in the middle of a game,” Namsoon growls, eyes glued to his laptop screen. “If you do I will ing-“

“Alright, alright! I’ll stay.” Heungsoo ignores his ringing phone and turns back to his own screen. Their room still smells like the fried chicken they had for lunch, dinner and midnight snack but it’s now far past midnight and his stomach is grumbling in protest. Despite Coach’s warning about junk food consumption, Heungsoo crams a handful of chips into his mouth with one hand while continuing to maneuver his mouse with the other.

“Go get ‘em Youngwoo!” Namsoo yells into his headset. “I’ll cover you so just focus on casting the spell.” The room is filled with the sounds of rapid clicks until at last, the countdown timer flashes 0:00 and the session is closed.

“Huh,” Heungsoo muses as he scrolls through the results. “We actually won.”

“Damn right we did,” was Namsoon’s smug reply. “I’d give up my tuition to see that bastard Oh Jungho’s face right now.”

With a yawn, Heungsoo pulls off his headset and flops down onto his tiny mattress, his feet dangling over the edge. “Lee Yikyung, and Lee Jihoon put up a pretty good fight near the end, but we pulled through. And now it’s time for bed.”

“But we still have to beat them again! Best of three, remember?”

Heungsoo merely lobs a pillow at his roommate in response and pulls the covers over his head.

Step three. Add the frozen fish cake that you were too lazy to take out of the freezer and defrost properly.

“Pretty please, Minki? With a cherry on top?”

Minki glances uneasily towards the front of the class, where their algebra professor was droning on about eigenvalues. It was clear from his expression that he still believed in the omnipresence of teachers and was too much of a goody-two-shoes to partake in academic dishonesty.

“Let it go, Namsoon,” sighs Heungsoo. “We’ll just do the assignment ourselves.”

Namsoon looks at him skeptically. “If you think you can do six proofs within the next three hours, then you’re even stupider than I thought. At least I know the limits of my intelligence.”

“You mean lack thereof?” Heungsoo mutters under his breath. He knows Namsoon’s right, though, and so he sits back and watches as his roommate slings an arm around Minki’s shoulder.

“Minki, we’re friends right?” Minki bites his lip but nonetheless nodded.

“And friends help each other, right?” Again, Minki nods but this time, his expression is torn. Namsoon falls silent, letting his sad-kicked-puppy eyes do all the work. It seems to have worked, for Minki finally releases a small sigh and passes Heungsoo his completed assignment (with another wary glance towards the professor, not knowing that the gesture made him all the more suspicious).  

“We’ll make sure to change the variables,” Heungsoo says reassuringly as he slips the folder into his messenger bag.

“Alright. Just make sure my umma never finds out,” Minki whispers. “If she disowns me, I hold you two fully responsible.”

Namsoon lets out a quiet chuckle and claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, we all know your mother loves her Minki-poo too much to let him live the hobo life.”

Step four. Add bok choy. They taste terrible but are apparently good for you.

“Kill me now,” Namsoon moans as he drops his head on the textbook before him. Midterm season had fallen upon them before they could say “Starcraft” and they were paying the price of sleeping though lectures.

“Why the do I let you talk me into ruining my life?” Heungsoo mutters darkly as he flips frantically through the twenty pages of barely legible calculus notes he had yet to study. The pages are filled with erratic lines where his hand had slipped when he had dozed off, so the task is made twice as frustrating.

Namsoon’s voice suddenly drops to a whisper. “Because I’m your best friend and I’m nice enough to be your wingman on rare occasions.”

“What wing-“ Heungsoo is cut off by Namsoon’s bony elbow in his side. He hisses in pain but looks in the direction that Namsoon points towards.

There are two girls sitting at a study table a couple rows down, heads bent over a textbook. He knows, even from a distance, that they’re beautiful. Maybe it was the way the sunlight caught on their glossy hair, or maybe the way their ivory skin contrasted against the dark material of their sweaters, but Heungsoo suddenly forgets about his looming exam and is content to just ogle.

“The short-haired one is just your type, right?” Namsoon says cheekily, nodding to the girl on the left whose button nose is scrunched (adorably) in confusion.

“Yeah,” Heungsoo breathes. He must have let slip the sheer intensity of his attraction because Namsoon’s lips widen into a knowing smile.

“Terrific! The prissy princess beside her is mine.” Next thing he knows, Namsoon is dragging him by the arm towards the girls.

It turns out that Lee Kangjoo and Song Hakyung are in their calc class and are more than happy to help them review anti-derivatives. And despite zoning out from time to time (whenever Kangjoo smiled), Heungsoo managed to glean enough from the tutorial to fill all seven sheets of the test paper.

He waits for Namsoon outside the exam room and is flipping through his notes when he sees it: Kangjoo’s name scribbled on the inside cover with a series of numbers and a winky face.

Step five.  Add an egg and beat it extra hard beforehand if you're angry and need to vent.  

Heungsoo likes to think of himself as a good friend, so he lets it slide whenever Namsoon fails to be as good of a friend as he is. He tries not to let it bother him when Namsoon eats his snacks without asking or forgets to take out the trash from time to time. And when Namsoon misses his last soccer game of the season, he takes it all in stride.

But Heungsoo is no saint and did not have a limitless well of patience to draw from, so he decides that his rage is justified when Namsoon doesn’t show up at their study date with Kangjoo and Hakyung.

“What the , man?” Heungsoo growls, kicking open Namsoon’s bedroom door. “How could you bail on me like that?”

Namsoon mumbles something under his breath that sounds more like “ing elf” then an actual apology. Striding over to Namsoon’s desk, he yanked out the power chord of his laptop.

“Hey!”

“Why the wasn’t your phone on?”

Namsoon yawns, rubbing his neck. “Guess I forgot to charge it.”

“And I guess you conveniently forgot about our study date too,” Heungsoo says dryly.

Realization flashes across Namsoon’s features, but instead of looking shamefaced, he merely grinned. “A , huh? Must have been a blast.”

“No it was not! Your prissy princess kept glaring at me as if it were my fault that you didn’t show and she dragged Kangjoo away before I could so much as talk to her. And when I come back, I find you gaming like always because you can’t be bothered to help a friend out and god you are such a ing bastard.” Heungsoo is panting by the end of his tirade and his hands itch to hurl Namsoon out the window, rental damages be damned.

“Woah, take a chill pill,” Namsoon begins but quickly recoils when Heungsoo throws him a withering glare.

“You’re a ty wingman and a ty roommate and I’m sick and tired of your ,” Heungsoo spits, giving Namsoon’s desk a vehement kick before storming off.

He’s slightly hurt that Namsoon doesn’t follow him out with bumbling apologies but the feeling is quickly lost in the anger of having a good-for-nothing best friend and the destruction of his future happiness with a certain Lee Kangjoo.

Step six. Add cheese. Just do it.

The flat is strangely quiet when Heungsoo returns home from class. For once, there are no rapid clicks and shooting sounds coming from Namsoon’s room. Instead, he finds Namsoon sitting on the floor before the coffee table, arms around his knees.

“Oh stop giving me that look,” Heungsoo mutters as he kicks off his shoes.

“What look?”

“The one where you pretend to be an abandoned orphan with a terminal illness.”

“I made you ramyeon.”

Heungsoo spares a glance at the metal pot laid out at the centre of the table. Two spoons and two pairs of chopsticks are laid beside it, along with a small plate of kimchi. The smell wafting from the pot is making him salivate and Heungsoo flops down before the table despite his best judgement. Hot air blows across his face as he lifts the lid and dips his spoon into the ramyeon soup.

Namsoon continues to stare solemnly and makes no move to reach for his chopstick. “I also did the laundry and cleaned the bathroom and stocked up on all the Chocopies I stole from you.”

“And?”

“I’m sorry for standing you up and being a selfish bastard so will you please forgive me? Pretty please?”

With a small grunt, Heungsoo picks up a few strands of noodle and holds it up. Namsoon eyes it warily. “Is that a sign of your forgiveness or merely a temporary peace offering?”

“Just eat the goddamn ramyeon before I change my mind.”

 Namsoon grins as he leans forward to bite down on the noodles and in spite of everything, Heungsoo finds himself grinning back.