"I am really starting to regret not letting your leave Korea when I had the chance."

"Aww...I'm hurt," Daehyun whines on the kitchen counter. Youngjae slams a fork onto the surface of the table in front of him.

"Then get a job," he says, "or I'm kicking you the hell out."

"You're making me live as a homeless person on the streets?" The older boy drops his head on his folded arms, "how cruel."

He watches as several wrinkles appear between Youngjae's narrowed eyes.

"Water, I pay almost twice what I normally do for it because you insist on taking such epically long showers on the hottest setting every freaking night," Youngjae rants, "I also, pay almost twice what I used to for food because you seem to be raiding the pantry 24/7 and leaving nothing for me to cook with..."

The blank look he gets in return fills him with utter annoyance.

"Yah! Jung Daehyun, are you even listening to me?!"

"We're out of red bean buns," is the reply he gets as Daehyun seems to snap back into reality.

The younger stops for a moment, looking at the boy at the kitchen counter, "what?"

"You mentioned the pantry right?" Daehyun says in an oblivious tone, "we need to stock up on red bean buns because we're out."

"You weren't listening to me at all were you?"

"What? No-I mean yes, I totally was," the older babbles a bit, "you said something about the pantry and the 24 hour convenience store?..."

A vein seems to bulge from the side of Youngjae's forehead as he squeezes the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. The guilty moocher sits tensed in his seat with his eyes wide when he realizes that Youngjae has on his "I will murder the next thing that moves" look.

"That's it."

I am so dead, thinks Daehyun.