I'd like to take the time up here to formally apologize for...everything

               It wasn’t often that Himchan voluntarily invited his coworker Youngjae out for dinner on a weekday. In all honesty he barely did anything voluntarily anyways, but this time Himchan decided to feel for the other male and treat him with something nice for his efforts and hard work – considering the fact that Youngjae had no other actual friends to do so with or acknowledge such. Not that Himchan was actually his friend, no, not really. He just pitied the other. He was simply feeling nice today.

               Okay so there was a couple’s special at this restaurant he really liked and Youngjae happened to be the only one available that day but! that is besides the point.

               Nonetheless there they were, Himchan and Youngjae, sitting in some sushi restaurant somewhere in the more rugged parts of town. Youngjae stood before him, sighing very loudly in content as he chewed the raw treat. “This is just so good,” Youngjae moaned, taking a small sip from his glass of water. “Thank you, hyung, for introducing me to the beauty that is sushi.”

               “…Yeah,” Himchan murmured, totally not judging the way Youngjae ate like a slob. “It’s okay, I guess.” The food was crap, in Himchan’s opinion. But that might only be due to the fact that some of Youngjae’s spit from talking too much had gotten onto his plate. “I’m glad you like it.”

               “Like it?” Youngjae repeated, snorting in disbelief as he slammed his chopsticks down onto the table. Himchan winced, subtly pushing his plate away. “THIS IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!” the younger exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air as he laughed. He picked up a roll with his fingers (ew) and grinned. “Man, if this piece of sushi were a person, I’d make it my buddy.” And then he plopped it into his mouth.

               Himchan held his head in his hands, completely embarrassed and ashamed under the eyes of the other customers in the restaurant who had turned to stare. There goes his reputation. “Bill, please,” he called, completely done with being nice to antisocial coworkers and…Youngjae himself, turning to look for a waiter.

-

               Youngjae yawned, stretching his arms over his head as he fixed the crook in his neck, glancing over at his alarm clock beside his bed. He sleepily rubbed his eyes, sliding out of his sheets and padding over the floor towards his bathroom, relieved to have finally had a day off from work in the office.

               He was just about done putting the perfect glob of toothpaste onto his toothbrush when he heard the little ding followed by the little dong of his ding dong doorbell being rung. “Who could that be?” Youngjae wondered out loud, the toothpaste falling off his toothbrush and onto the sink unbeknownst to him. He placed the brush down carefully on the ledge before making his way through his tiny home and towards the front door.

               The male took a furtive glance at the mirror hanging on the wall next to the door, softly patting his hair down before turning to grab the doorknob. He twisted and pulled it open, staring outside to see who it was. “Hello—”

               What the heckie – he cut himself off upon taking in the unexpected visitor’s attire.

               Youngjae stood, jaw unhinged to the floor as he stared dumbly at the stranger boldly presented before him. “W-who—?”

               “Hi,” the stranger greeted, eyes crinkled into a whiskered smile. “You’re Yoo Youngjae, right?”

               Youngjae’s eyes widened.

               The other grinned. “Well, I’m Jung Daehyun, and today is your lucky day. I love you.”

               Youngjae couldn’t speak, nonetheless breathe with what he was being forced to look at right that very moment. If there were things in the world never meant to be seen by the human eye, this was one of them. If there were things locked in the depths of hell never meant to crawl out, this thing was on the run. If there were things Youngjae never thought he’d ever see in his entire pathetic existence, well, this was probably at the top of that list.

               And holy did it just say it loved him?

               Youngjae didn’t even know how to react. Because how often was it that you found a randomass, - stranger on your doorstep wrapped in nothing but some ing seaweed and dear lord – was that wasabi? No but literally, that was exactly what Youngjae was seeing. A random mad. Wearing nothing but a giant wrap of seaweed like a goddamn poncho. Youngjae could safely say that he has seen it all. 

               “I-I…” Youngjae stammered, still unable to link together an appropriate response. “I…”

               “Well don’t just stand there,” Daehyun said, arms up and spread out as if expecting a hug. “Aren’t you going to let the love of your life in?”

               Youngjae’s grip on the doorknob tightened as he took in the sight, fighting the urge to faint at how horrendous this entire situation has brought this itself up to be. This turn of like, two events, puzzled Youngjae to no end. Only five minutes into Youngjae’s morning and he’s already ing done with the day. He wondered if this was a dream.

               “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Youngjae spoke lowly, slowly moving to close the door. “But this was nice, I guess. Uh…don’t let any of that down south, you hear me?” He gestured towards the spread of green wasabi across Daehyun’s seaweed-cladded torso. “Might feel something a bit unholy. Bye!” Youngjae slammed the door shut, throwing his back against it and letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Now to just call the ing police.

               Ding dong

               Youngjae squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if I ignore him he’ll just go away. This couldn’t be real anyways, right? Tell me I’m right.

               The boy felt tiny pats of knocks against the door behind his back, followed by the muffled call of his name. Youngjae clamped a hand over his mouth. Please go away.

               Youngjae turned and slowly opened the door again, revealing once again something that could only be logically explained by clawing its way out of his nightmares. Actually Youngjae has never had a nightmare like this. Sure he’s had dreams where a giant seaweed monster emerging from the sea comes to attack him, but never before has he had a dream in which a man wearing seaweed like a toga confesses him on his doorstep.

               “Come on Youngjae, don’t cut me off like that,” Daehyun said, pursing his lips at the other. “We have a lot to learn about each other.” He gave Youngjae a once over. “And I mean a lot.” A smirk.

               Youngjae felt a piece of his soul die inside of him. He did not just get checked out by this anemone crap. Youngjae thought that if he were to ever get hit on by a guy, it’d be by Brad Pitt (because come on, his chances on getting hit on by anyone at all were as big as that possibility), but instead he got this. A random dude wrapped in seaweed. “ my life,” he breathed.

               Daehyun observed Youngjae for a moment before taking a step back, arms crossed. “Oh come on,” he spoke, raising an eyebrow, “don’t tell me you don’t recognize me!”

               Youngjae clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

               Daehyun pouted, slicking some wasabi through his hair as some sort of gel to hold it up. Youngjae grimaced. “I’m hurt. And here I was thinking you’d actually have the decency to remember me.”

               Because wearing seaweed is totally public decency. “I’m sorry?”

               “You should be,” Daehyun chastised. “That last time we met you called me beautiful.”

               Youngjae raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And when was that?”

               “Yesterday.”

               This guy is hung off his mind. Youngjae cleared his throat. “Yeah, whatever you say, you ing vegetable.”

               Daehyun gasped, seemingly offended as he held a hand up to his chest. “Youngjae! If you’re referring to my attire, I’ll have you know that seaweed is technically a type of algae. And I think it really brings out the color of my eyes.”

               Youngjae’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you, really? You can’t possibly think I’m supposed to just let you into my home with you looking like you were shoved up Neptune’s .”

               Daehyun let out a slightly irritated sigh, but patiently answered, “I’ve already said it before, but I am the love of your life, Yoo Youngjae.” He held out his arms as if to showcase himself in all his glory, hair that had been slicked back fanning over his face as bits of wasabi fell from his scalp. Youngjae’s head hurt. “And since your infatuation for me has been established, I will let you know that it is requited. So I think that it is appropriate we get to know each other. In the same way I was formed. Firmly rolled, steamy, close, intimately wrapped together, sticky—”

               “Hello, emergency?”

               Daehyun’s eyes widened. “Youngjae!” He snatched the phone out of the other’s hands, yelling a “False alarm!” into its speaker and immediately ending the call. “No! Bad Youngjae!” 

               “I’m giving you exactly ten seconds to give me my phone back before I knock out your wasabi-flaked head,” Youngjae warned, a bat seeming to have collected itself from thin air and into Youngjae’s hands.

               “Whoa, okay.” Daehyun quickly tossed Youngjae’s phone back to its owner. “Just chill for a second, okay?  Jesus, don’t get the authorities involved in something so miniscule.”

               “Miniscule?” Youngjae repeated with a scoff. “There is a man dressed up like a crappy Poseidon on my door step and you expect me not to call the cops?”

               “I see your point, but I’m not just a crappy Poseidon. I’m your crappy Poseidon.”

               “I think I’m going to hurl.” Youngjae pressed two fingers against his temples, rubbing small circles. “Please leave before we see yesterday’s dinner.”

               “Wait!” Daehyun exclaimed, an idea popping up into his mind. Maybe this would jog the other’s memory. “Do you happen to remember what you had for dinner last night?”

               Youngjae stared at Daehyun tiredly. “Yes, yes I do remember what I had for dinner last night.”

               “What was it?”

               Youngjae glared. “It was amazing, to be honest. It was the most beautifully crafted and carefully made sushi I have ever tasted—”

               “Thank you.”

               “—Well, the first I’ve ever tasted but – wait what.” Youngjae blinked, staring at Daehyun. “What?”

               “Thank you.” Daehyun smiled, eyes morphing into tiny crescents as he smiled pleasantly at the other. “And I’m glad to know you haven’t had anyone else.”

               Youngjae opened his mouth to speak but found no words, hell, he couldn’t even think of any literate word at all. He just – he won’t – he can’t – “What?”

               “Hmm,” Daehyun hummed, “you’re not the brightest of fellows, are you?”

               Youngjae flushed, glaring at the strange male. “S-shut up! At least I’m smart enough to wear clothes!”

               “But clearly not wound up tightly enough to put two and two together.” Daehyun rolled his eyes. “I’m sushi, .”

               Youngjae blinked. “Sushi?”

               “Sushi.”

               “You are sushi?”

               “I am sushi.”

               “You’re sushi?”

               Daehyun grinned. “Your sushi.”

               Youngjae slammed the door in Daehyun’s face. He took a moment to breathe before carefully taking out his phone, ignoring the knocks and muffled calls of his name from behind him.

               “Hello?”

               “Himchan, oh my god.”

               “Oh…Youngjae. It’s you…uh…listen I—”

               “Himchan, I’m sorry, but I’m in dire need of your help right now.”

               “…What?”

               “Look I don’t really like you so I would never tell you my address—”

               “Excuse me?”    

               “—but desperate times calls for desperate measures, so listen carefully to me because there is a strange sea man outside my door and I—”

               “You mean a sailor?”

               “What? No, not a sailor! God dammit Kim Himchan, there is a strange man outside my door and I need help, like drastic help prompto.” Youngjae bit his lips. “Think you can save the day?”

               There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I don’t really like you either.” Then Himchan hung up.

               Youngjae awkwardly stared down at his phone. “H-hello? Hello? You still there hyung? He…hello?” He let out a sigh before slipping his phone back into his pocket, staring miserably at the door before him. “I’m not going to open it,” he stated simply as the doorbell was rung over and over again.

               “Come on Youngjae, please?” came Daehyun’s faint voice, and Youngjae closed his eyes in annoyance. “It’s cold out here…”

               “Maybe you should have considered the weather before you walked out looking like the Little Mermaid’s .”

               “It’s not like I chose to wear this!”

               Youngjae scrunched his nose up. “Who dressed you then? What kind of sick is enough to dress you up like a piece of sushi?”

               “…You.”

               Youngjae flushed, face turning an unflattering shade of red as he flung the door back open. Out stood Daehyun, hair slicked back with wasabi once again, leaning back against the porch. “How do you even know my name?” Youngjae asked cautiously, as this man might be some sort of crazy serial killer for all he knew.

               Daehyun shrugged. “I just sort of…know.” He smiled sheepishly. “So will you like…let me in now?”

               Youngjae bit his lip, avoiding the other man’s face as he glanced back into his home. He was going to regret this. “Only because I can’t be seen out here with a character out of Spongebob. We are changing those clothes.” He then grabbed Daehyun’s arm and pulled him inside, slamming the door shut behind them.

               He was most definitely going to regret this.

-

               Youngjae let out a frustrated sigh as he scrolled through more Google results on the webpage. Apparently people have not encountered the same problem as him. How is it that no one else has ever run into a man dressed in sushi? Oh yeah, that’s right. Because this NEVER HAPPENS. Youngjae tore at his hair as he rephrased his last search. How do I get rid of a dead body?

               The male slammed his laptop shut and rubbed a hand down his face, at a complete loss in the situation he was in now. Who was this man and why the hell did he waltz in here claiming to be the love of Youngjae’s life? Youngjae didn’t even have a life.

               The sounds of footsteps distracted Youngjae from his thoughts as he looked up to see Daehyun reentering the room, dressed this time in an old and dirty T-shirt with shorts, because like hell Youngjae was going to lend Daehyun his nice clothes. Daehyun still wore his seaweed however, except wrapped around his neck like a choker. Youngjae didn’t understand how that worked nor did he want to question it. At least there wasn’t wasabi in his hair anymore. Does seaweed mold?

               Daehyun opened his mouth to speak but Youngjae held a finger up in the air. “Okay, first things first. Because Google cannot answer my questions, I demand some answers from you.”        

               Daehyun raised an eyebrow, pulling up a chair to where Youngjae was seated and setting himself down, hands out in a go ahead gesture.

               Youngjae stared at Daehyun with a pained look on his face for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Okay,” he started, “who are you? Better yet, who’s in charge of you?” Youngjae narrowed his eyes. “Did you escape? Are you a convict?”

               Daehyun held his hands up in defense. “I already told you who I was. And I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Youngjae opened his mouth but Daehyun continued, “If you wonder where I’m from, I emerged from a beach down in…Busan, I think? I think that’s what that place was called.”

               Youngjae’s eyes widened. “We are nowhere near Busan! How the did you end up at my door?”

               Daehyun scrutinized Youngjae for a moment. “Uhm…I walked?” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

               “How lo