Groaning, Minseok buries his face into his sheets, pulling his pillow over his head. He doesn’t know what time it is — he doesn’t care what time it is — but either way it’s much too early for someone to be knocking at his door. He knows it’s not Jongdae because Jongdae should be at work and, even if he wasn’t at work, he has his own key. It’s probably not one of his neighbors and he isn’t expecting any packages or deliveries. Grabbing another pillow to bury himself under, he tells himself it isn’t important; it’s probably someone who has the wrong house or something. Much to his dismay, the banging continues and the pillows fail to block out the sound.

Giving up on his hopes of being able to go back to sleep, Minseok rolls out of bed and shuffles to the front door, grumbling the entire time. There’s a ringing in the back of his head, a voice that tells him he shouldn’t open the door because he doesn’t know who it is on the other side or what they want. Still, he rips open the door without asking who is there, too tired to succumb to his irrational fear of socializing.

The face that greets him, twisted in as much annoyance as Minseok feels, isn’t unfamiliar.

“You surely took your sweet time in opening the door.”

“W-What are you doing here?” Minseok yawns. He leans against the door frame and closes his eyes. Sleep. Sleep is all he wants. If he knew he was going to be woken up like this, he wouldn’t have stayed up all night recording extra material for his youtube channel.

“Good morning to you too. Can I come in?”

His head feels heavy when he nods, like he’s a drunken bobble-head. Peeling his eyes open, he rubs at them with a curled fist and steps out of the way to let Lu Han enter his humble apartment. Closing the door behind his guest, he watches as Lu Han looks around the entryway, checking out his apartment with appreciative hums and nods.

Out of all the people who could have shown up out of the blue, he would have never expected Lu Han. He didn’t even know the younger remembered what apartment complex he lived in. Lu Han’s only been here twice, right? Minseok marvels; Lu Han must have an amazing sense of direction. But…how did he know his apartment number? Minseok’s sure he’s never told him.

Covering his mouth as he yawns, he runs his eyes over the other’s body, surprised to see the bartender in a black muscle shirt and a pair of sweatpants instead of the usual button-down tucked into skinny jeans. He knew Lu Han liked to get into fights but he never thought he’d have the figure for it. Apparently button-downs don’t do him justice at all. It’s almost as if he’s looking at a completely random stranger.

Minseok feels oddly self-conscious as he watches Lu Han toe off his shoes. He looks at his own self, dressed in Hello Kitty sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt with the entire cast of Mario villains printed on it. He blushes. How childish. And oh God he can only imagine what his hair looks like and how puffy his eyes still are with sleep.

Gnawing on his bottom lip, he places his hand on Lu Han’s upper arm and guides him in the direction of the living room. “I-I’m going to freshen up. Please make yourself at home.”

Lu Han nods.

If Minseok’s first priority wasn’t making himself look presentable, he’d worry about the bartender looking at the old family pictures he has lying around. But he can’t be bothered with ripping the picture out of Lu Han’s hand so he doesn’t see Minseok in all his dorky teenage glory, all but running to his room to grab a decent pair of clothes so he can hop in the shower and brush his teeth. Locking the bathroom door behind him, he starts the shower. Waiting for the water to warm, he looks at his face in the mirror above the sink. Why is he so flustered? He hopes Lu Han didn’t notice how pink his cheeks are.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

“How did you find out what number my apartment is?” Minseok asks as he comes back into the living room. After he finished his quick, five-minute shower and dressed himself in a simple, grey scoopneck sweater and a matching pair of skinny jeans he decided to cook. He hands over one of two steaming bowls of instant ramyun, his lunch offering for the day, and Lu Han nods his head in thanks as he takes it.

Grasping the chopsticks, Lu Han plays around with the noodles, lifting them high and letting them slip back into the soup. He isn’t going to say that he had been standing outside the building questioning his decision to come uninvited for an half an hour before someone walked out of the building and he slipped in. It just happened to be his luck that the tenants' names and apartment numbers are printed beneath their mailboxes in the main lobby.

He shrugs. “I have my methods.”

“That’s creepy.” Minseok blows on his noodles before eating them with a strange grace that compels Lu Han to watch him. Or maybe it’s how he always swipes his tongue over his lips after he finishes swallowing. Minseok has really pretty lips.

Lu Han coughs and sets his bowl on the floor so he can thump himself on the chest. Minseok looks at him with round eyes, silently asking if he’s okay. He nods and says that the noodles just went down the wrong pipe even though he’s barely eaten anything. If Minseok notices, he doesn’t call him out on his bluff.

The television is while Lu Han recollects himself. He picks up the bowl off the floor and shovels noodles into his mouth as a distraction from the man next to him. Yeah, this was a mistake, a huge mistake. He should have stayed home and prank phonecalled Kris all day like a good little temporarily unemployed bartender. Hell, he could have even caught up on some seriously needed sleep instead of visiting the home of the man who’s responsible for a lot of confusion. Not to mention the chest pain he’s been feeling recently. He could’ve gone to get checked out today.

“Han?”

Grunting over a mouthful of ramyun, Lu Han tears his eyes away from the bowl to look at Minseok. He just realized Minseok calls him solely by his name and not by his full name like everyone else in this country seems to do. He’s not sure why that makes his stomach turn. It can’t be because he likes the sound of his name coming from Minseok’s lips. There is nothing special about the sweet, whispery tone of Minseok’s voice, nothing that should evoke these kinds of foreign sensations. His stomach is reacting to the intake of food, that’s it.

“You never told me what you’re doing here.”

Oh, that’s right. Swallowing, Lu Han wipes the moisture off his lips with the back of his hand. “I was fired.”

“Fired?!” Minseok gasps, eyes wide.

No one should look that adorable when they’re surprised. Kim Minseok and the demon responsible for making such a cute human being.

“Technically, I’m just not allowed to show up for three weeks but whatever.”

“So you’re like suspended or something,” Minseok lifts his legs onto the couch and rests his chin on his knees.

Lu Han shrugs and turns his attention back to his lukewarm ramyun.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Minseok sighs dramatically. “Why were you suspended?”

Aura darkening around him, Lu Han moves his bowl aside again and crosses his arms over his chest, a deep frown tugging at his lips. “These two dickwads wanted to get in a fight and when I was trying to break it up one of them punched me so —”

“You fought back.”

“Exactly. And my tightass of a boss said I was too aggressive or some stupid like that and that I need to take time off to get my attitude in order. My attitude is ing fine. It’s the rest of the world that needs to get their together.” Lu Han finishes his rant with a huff and a slight twitch of his eye. The anger he had pushed away heats his veins once more and he feels an overwhelming need to hit something, anything to get the frustration out of his system. He doesn’t realize he’s clenching his fist until Minseok’s small hand covers it and his name is called in that soft, melodic voice. Relaxing just the slightest bit, he raises an eyebrow.

Minseok smiles sheepishly as he unfurls Lu Han’s fingers.

“What are you doing?” Lu Han chokes.

“Y-You do need to loosen up some. If you keep yourself wound up so tight, you’ll explode.”

“I thought I was supposed to be helping you with your psychological problems.”

Minseok rubs circles into Lu Han’s palm with his thumb absentmindedly, humming in thought. “We can help each other. Unless you’re too big and bad for that.”

“And if I am too big and bad?”

“Then we have three weeks to bring you down to size.”

Lu Han scoffs. “You think you can handle me, Kim Minseok?”

Minseok opens his mouth. He lolls his tongue around, wondering how to respond to Lu Han’s question. Clamping his lips together, he averts his eyes to his lap. As he gnaws on his lip, Lu Han wonders if he should apologize — he always feels like he needs to apologize around this kid.

“Maybe.” Minseok’s whisper is so soft, Lu Han barely hears him.

“What?”

“I said ‘maybe’. Maybe I can handle you, Lu Han.”

He conveniently ignores the look of surprise Minseok gives him when he shoots up off the couch. Swallowing thickly, he says he’s thirsty. It takes Minseok a second but he nods and stands as well, listing off all of the drinks he has on his way to the kitchen. Lu Han tells him he has no preference. When the tiny bun is out of sight, Lu Han tosses his head back and groans silently, hands covering his face.

This cute brat is going to be the death of him.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Even so, Lu Han finds himself knocking on Minseok’s door the next day with breakfast in the form of vanilla bean frappuccinos and a dozen glazed and chocolate sprinkled donuts. He laughs uncharacteristically awkward when Minseok, more awake than he was yesterday, opens the door with a smile. The kid — he really has to stop calling him a kid when he’s the younger of the two — is swimming in a loose tank top and a pair of Rilakkuma sweatpants. He’s always dressed in something so childish but it works for him.

Lu Han notices how unnaturally petite the other is in his oversized clothes and he wonders if he should have gotten more donuts. He also wonders if his desire to hug the small man is normal. He tells himself it is because Minseok is adorable and everyone likes adorable things. That’s why people like small animals and babies even if they don’t do anything but and beg for food. Minseok does more than that but the logic is the same. Kind of.

He nods his head in greeting as he’s allowed into the homey apartment.

“Oh, what do you have there?” Minseok asks, pointing to the thin white and pink box in his right hand.

Lu Han hands over the box of donuts as he toes off his sneakers. “Type 2 diabetes,” he replies, slipping past Minseok to walk into the living room where he drops onto the couch and gets comfortable. A part of him says he should be more respectful in a place he’s only been inside once but there is something comforting about Minseok and his apartment and he finds that he doesn’t care.

By the time Minseok waddles over to the couch with the donuts, Lu Han has already popped the plastic Starbucks cups from their cardboard holder. He holds one out to Minseok who takes it with a bashful smile.

The Korean hops onto the couch and folds his legs underneath him, leaving enough room between them for the box of donuts. “I’ve never had one before,” he admits, drumming his fingers on the rounded top. “It’s cold.”

Unsurprised the other has never had a frappuccino, Lu Han nods. “It’s supposed to be. I went with one that’s coffee-free since I know you drink tea and people who drink tea don’t like coffee, right?”

Minseok’s laugh is light as he shakes his head. “That’s not necessarily true but thank you. I don’t like coffee,” he says, opening the box of donuts and taking out one with sprinkles. He breaks it in half and offers the other half to Lu Han.

Staring at it blankly, Lu Han can’t help but sneer. “Minseok, there are eleven other donuts in the box. You don’t need to share with me.”

The bun looks down at the donut halves in his hands and then back up at Lu Han. He does that head tilt thing that makes Lu Han’s chest hurt and Lu Han wonders if he does it on purpose.

“I don’t want all of it so I’m giving it to you. Is that a problem?”

Yes. Yes, it is a problem. You can easily put it back into the damn box but instead you’re torturing me. “What if I wanted a glazed one?” Lu Han leans back against the arm rest with his arms folded across his chest.

Minseok chokes over a laugh. “Then that’s too bad. Take it.”

“I don’t want it.” There’s something exhilarating about getting Minseok to show an attitude, Lu Han notices.

“Take it.”

“No.”

“I have ways to make you take it.”

“You do realize you are threatening me because I don’t want the other half of your donut, don’t you?”

He’s not mentally prepared for the defeated look that passes over Minseok’s face, cheeks puffed and bottom lip jutting out. Warmth rushes over him and it takes him a while to come up with the excuse that it’s just the autumn heat.

“F-Fine.” Lu Han snatches the donut half. He pretends to count to sprinkles buried in the chocolate icing, hiding his face. He doesn’t blush easily but his body doesn’t act normally around Minseok and he doesn’t want to take any chances with the shorty seeing him red. “But stop with the cute ,” he grunts, breaking off the donut into smaller pieces and stuffing them in his mouth.

“Don’t you like it?” Minseok finishes his own half, the chocolate off his fingers afterward.

That has to be the joke of the century. Lu Han would laugh if it was funny. “I don’t ing like it,” he says, more sour than he intended but Minseok doesn’t recoil like he thought he would. “Drink your frappuccino.”

Minseok harrumphs. “Why do you act like you’re older than me?”

“Why do you act like a child?” Lu Han forces the chilled drink into Minseok’s hands. “Drink. I want to know if you like it for next time.”

“Next time?”

Lu Han shrugs. “If I’m going to come over to work on your problems, I may as well buy you breakfast.”

Minseok oohs. “Is there a sweet guy hiding behind that cold exterior?” He giggles and wraps his lips around his straw.

Lu Han exhales a laugh. No, there isn’t some secret sweet side to him, there are only remnants of the person he used to be who gave, gave, and gave more and never took. There is nothing but the spineless Beijing boy who aims to please. But he doesn’t like to think about his past like that, when it’s about the life he should (if he didn’t turn into the pessimistic jerk he proudly is today) be living. No matter how nostalgic he gets and no matter how much he complains about his smaller-than-a-cardboard-box studio apartment, it’s not like he plans on going back. But now isn’t the time to think about what he left behind six years ago.

Guzzling down his own frappuccino, he realizes that the only sound between them is their slurping. Peeking at Minseok through his overgrown bangs — he should get his hair cut soon — he half-laughs, half-chokes over his frap. The bun looks up as well with a confused hum, still blowing bubbles into the vanilla drink in his hands.

Lu Han shakes his head. “And you wonder why I treat you like you’re younger than me,” he says under his breath.

Minseok perks up. “What was that?”

Waving his hand, Lu Han takes a glazed donut out of the box. “What should we do?”

“I’m usually recording games by now but since you’re here, I should entertain you.” Minseok puts down the cup and looks around the room. “There isn’t much to do around here though…I mean, I have a pretty extensive movie collection if you’re okay with that. Or we could go out and do something but I’d have to change and take my medicine.” He laughs but the sound is sort of strained and not at all the twinkling sound Lu Han’s come to enjoy hearing.

“No, I don’t want to stress you out. What kind of movies do you have?”

And that’s how they end up watching some dramatic tear-jerker that Minseok picked out randomly with his eyes closed. Lu Han would be more emotionally invested in the movie if Minseok wasn’t cuddling — can he call Minseok’s head on his shoulder cuddling? — into his side and if his heart wasn’t beating out of his chest.

A faint sound reaches his ears and he stiffens. No. No. The sound repeats and he turns his head enough to see Minseok rubbing at his eyes and , the kid is crying. Lu Han doesn’t do tears. Aside from the fact that people cry over the stupidest (like fictional movies), tears are terrifying. They have this power that makes other people want to be sympathetic or comforting or cry as well. And Lu Han doesn’t do mushy emotions either.

Eyes wide and panicked, he stares unseeing at the television. Just as the tips of his fingers brush Minseok’s hair, his phone rings. He scrambles away from Minseok as if the older man is fire and grabs his phone out of his pocket. Kris. Bless that damn Canadian and his perfectly imperfect timing.

Lu Han swipes his finger over the mute call button (because even though he’s grateful, he doesn’t want to hear Kris’ voice) and pretends he’s reading a text. When he looks down at Minseok with fake disappointment, the other is blinking right up at him, eyes watery despite how impassive the rest of his face is.

“Apparently I was supposed to pick up a package for someone from the post,” he lies.

Minseok buys into it and nods, understanding. “Do what you have to do. I’ll see you later?” At least his voice is stable and doesn’t crack. Lu Han wouldn't be able to survive that.

“Y-Yeah.” Lu Han rushes to slip into his shoes. “Keep the donuts.”

Minseok hums and waves before lying down on the couch, immersing himself in the magic of the movie once more.

Closing the door behind him as softly as possible, Lu Han walks away from the apartment with shaky hands and heavy steps. ing tears.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Six days. It’s been six days since he’s been out of work and he’s already bored out of his mind. This isn’t like a university break where he can go out and get faced with a couple of his classmates and then go back to class when Monday rolls around. He’s stuck with nothing to do for another two weeks. Groaning, he rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. The more he mopes around his ty studio apartment, the more he thinks about how far his life has gone down the drain. And that’s too depressing.

He sighs just as there is a knock at his door. Thinking it’s his landlady, he ignores it. When the knocking continues, he sits ups and yells, “No one is ing home.”

“Open the door, .”

Grumbling under his breath about annoying Canadians, the bartender rolls off his bed and stomps the four steps to his front door to yank it open. He glares at Kris in the doorway. Bored or not, company is not what he wants right now.

“What the do you want?”

Kris scoffs. “It’s nice to see your ugly face too. Gonna let me in?”

“Does it look like I’m gonna let you in? No. Go away,” Lu Han deadpans, nonetheless moving out of the way and letting Kris come in. Going back to his bed, he flops onto it and lets the businessman wander around his claustrophobic apartment as he wishes.

The refrigerator door opens.

“Oh, you have cake. Can I have a piece?”

“No,” Lu Han answers without hesitation. That cake was from Minseok. He’s not sharing it.

Kris throws a balled up napkin at him. “How long have you had it? You haven’t eaten it yet.”

“A couple days. Get away from my ing cake.”

“What’s it for? With a sweet-tooth like yours there is no way this cake should still be here.”

“A friend gave it to me but that doesn’t matter because you still can’t have any of the cake so close the ing refrigerator before I snap your off.”

Kris usually ignores his threats but even the giant knows not to mess around with Lu Han and his sweets. For a man who isn’t afraid to brawl with men twice his size, murdering his closest acquaintance in cold blood over a red velvet cake with cream cheese icing is no problem. Minseok didn’t tell him he had to be nice and share the cake so he’s not. Call him pretty, call him childish, whatever. If he’s too afraid to eat the cake himself, he isn’t just going to give it away to some undeserving punk like Kris.

“Everyone misses you at the club,” Kris announces randomly, moving a stack of magazines off of a small crate to sit on. Lu Han isn’t going to let him sit on the bed and there is no room for chairs.

“Don’t care,” Lu Han grumbles from where he’s hanging off the edge of his bed, staring at a peculiar brown spot in his carpet.

Picking up one of the magazines, Kris flips through it. “Tao says his shift isn’t the same without your angry self there to snap at him.”

“I don’t ing care.”

“And Jia—”

Lu Han pushes himself up and grabs for a pillow, throwing it at the Canadian. “ off! You might like hearing yourself talk but you’re giving me a ing headache.” How hard is it to tell that he’s not in the mood to hear what is going on at the place he’s been temporarily exiled from?

He deflects the pillow with his forearm when Kris throws it back just as his phone beeps. He rolls off his bed to grab it off the counter. Unlocking the device, he surprised to see a message from Minseok. Even though they exchanged numbers, they’ve never initiated a real conversation. He snorts amusedly as he reads the text — it’s Minseok complaining about how Lu Han hasn’t come back to visit him with tons of unhappy emoticons and exclamation points.

“What are you smiling at?” Kris stalks up behind him to peer over his shoulder. “Who are you talking to?”

“Just a friend,” Lu Han says as another text — more emoticons — from Minseok arrives.

Kris laughs disbelievingly. “Just a friend, huh? I didn’t know you had friends that made you happy like that.”

“He doesn’t ‘make me happy’.”

“Is this the same friend that gave you the cake?”

“Kris?” Lu Han can’t help the dumb smile on his face as he replies to the text with an apology and a promise to drop by tomorrow. “Get out.”

The Chinese-Canadian raises his brows in surprise at the sudden, odd demand. Still he recognizes a perfect chance to tease Lu Han. “It sounds like your friend is a little more than a friend.”

The smile is gone when Lu Han tosses his phone aside even though it beeps again. “I’m not going to say it again.”

“You can’t get everything you want by threatening people, Lu.”

“Wanna bet?”

Kris usually ignores his threats but when Lu Han turns on him with a dangerous look in his eyes, he walks toward the door with a mocking laugh. “Have fun with your friend.”

“Yeah, whatever, get the out.”

It isn’t until the door shuts behind Kris that Lu Han scrambles for his phone again to read the new text from Minseok and the goofy grin returns.