Unedited. If you see a typo please tell me~

In theory, eight hours of sleep is recommended for maximal attention during the day. In published science articles, regular sleep following a schedule is key to make the most of rest and wake up refreshed each day. Common sense says at least sleeping before the day a semester long assignment is due is essential.

2:45am and Donghae glares at his notes on sleep, cursing his busy week and wishing desperately his brain would stop attempting to melt and pour out from his ears. Glancing at the blue numbers on his alarm clock, he figures getting some sleep now and finishing the assignment after that would be better than finishing it and ending up with a well-polished introduction tumbling apart into a delirious mess.

Shutting the lid of his laptop reluctantly, Donghae’s jaw stretches into a wide yawn. He shuffles to the bathroom and brushes his teeth again despite having done so after his second dinner at 1am. Pulling off his study clothes – tracksuit pants and a thin long-sleeved shirt – he replaces them with his sleeping clothes – cleaner tracksuit pants and a shirt sans tomato sauce stains from yesterday, which Donghae realises is now two days ago.

Shaking his head, he stretches and crawls onto the bed to set his alarm for 10am. He collapses on top of the covers and shuts his eyes, anticipating a swift descent into sleep.

As if following an alarm of its own, the fire alarms in the hallway outside his apartment shrill loudly. Donghae groans and buries his head beneath the pillow. “Please be a drill,” he groans miserably.

A minute later the shrill noise continues until it’s piercing his ears. Sitting up and pushing himself off the bed, he stumbles out of his bedroom and blindly makes his way to the front door. He unlocks it and pokes his head outside, his messy hair brushing against the door frame. Donghae blinks blearily at the sight of an elderly woman hurrying along the hallway towards the exit, her fluffy slippers and bathrobe a sight he’s sure he’ll be amused by later. Not comprehending the situation, he looks around with confusion.

“Everyone stay calm and head to your nearest exit,” a loud voice catches his attention. Donghae leans forward to see a man in a yellow construction cap and bright orange vest waving for the attention of the confused and panicking residents scattered about the hall. “Please head down that way,” he gestures to Donghae’s left, “the fire is on the far end of the complex but safety procedures say we all have to evacuate.”

Not processing much more than the word fire, Donghae acts on instinct. Mind alert with concern but groggy with details, he grabs his key, locks his door and immediately strides towards the exit. He’s already on the ground level before he realises he’s barefoot and about to head into the parking lot. He turns to head back but is pushed forward by the crowd of irritated residents behind him so he winces and steps onto the bitumen regardless. He tries to make out the loose gravel on the road to avoid stepping on it, chastising himself for not thinking to grab his phone. 

“,” a man Donghae has only ever seen in a business suit mutters nearby. “I forgot my laptop.”

Donghae groans and hangs his head.

“At least you remembered your clothes,” a voice gravelly with sleep says from his left. Donghae frowns with confusion and steps closer as a family accidentally pushes him aside in their haste to get further from the building.

“Clothes?” he asks before turning to see who he’s speaking to. Familiar eyes of the cute neighbour next door stare back at him, their usual mischievous glint dulled with slumber. Donghae has the feeling he could fall asleep on his feet if he wanted to. The words only now registering in his mind, he glances down and promptly averts his eyes as his gaze meets bare torso and legs instead of the pyjamas he was expecting.

His neighbour blinks dully at his reaction and shrugs after a beat. “I wear boxers to bed,” he says simply.

Donghae reluctantly meets his eyes and nods in understanding. “I forgot my phone too.”

The neighbour stares at him blankly before groaning loudly. “.”

“Have some respect!” a mother of three glares relentlessly at him, reaching out to bring the youngest wandering child closer. “Clothes I can understand but don’t swear.”

“Sorry,” the neighbour bows, swaying almost dangerously before straightening up again. “Tired.”

Looking towards the building again and failing to spot a fire or thick plumes of smoke, Donghae frowns at the barely visible haze clinging to the far end of the apartment complex. “Where’s the fire?”

Slumberous eyes linger on his for long enough to twist his stomach with nervousness. “What fire?”

Donghae is startled into brief laughter. “What fire? What, the reason we’re out here?”

The neighbour pouts at him and Donghae nearly bursts into laughter again purely because he’s sure he has to be at least twenty and the pout goes far too well with his smiley face boxers. “I’m sleepy,” he whines, stepping closer and if he didn’t only smell of sweet aftershave Donghae would have suspected alcohol. “Tell me when it’s over, neighbour,” he mumbles before leaning heavily onto his side and burying his face in Donghae’s shoulder.

“Um.” Donghae stares with wide eyes at the shock of wild brown hair upon his shoulder as if it was a wild koala and not his cute neighbour. His cute borderline neighbour. “Seriously?” Donghae swears he can hear the nearby residents snickering at him. “You’re not really sleeping are you.” The weight on his shoulder only becomes heavier and Donghae has to wrap an arm around his bare torso to stop him from falling to the ground. Self-conscious of the smooth skin beneath his fingertips and brushing against his bare arm, Donghae focuses on keeping his grip strong enough to support him and nothing more. “Fu… fudgesicles,” he amends at the sharp glare from the mother of three.

“Mummy I want undies like that,” one of the sons says, pointing happily at his oblivious neighbour’s boxers. “Can I? Please?”

Unable to shuffle away from the strengthened glare from the young woman, Donghae looks away and gulps nervously.

His shoulder growing numb and legs sore from supporting the weight of two people, Donghae sighs with relief when the floor warden declares the apartment complex safe to enter again. “I can’t believe we had to all get up at three in the morning because somebody’s roast dinner exploded,” the businessman casually dressed in a pink shirt with flowered silk shorts grumbles to his wife. “How do you even do that? Who cooks a roast at 3am?”

“Let’s just be thankful it didn’t spread,” his wife says placatingly. “It did get awful smoky though. We may have to paint the walls to get rid of the smell,” her tone drops, forlorn.

“A shame,” the man nods, though his eyes are too bright with satisfaction for his words to ring true.

Donghae shuffles in place but stops when his cold and aching feet protest. The relief at being allowed back inside is replaced with anxiety at the realisation he can’t move while his neighbour is sleeping on top of him. “Um,” he says loudly, heart dropping to his belly when the other boy doesn’t even stir. Still supporting him with an arm around his torso, Donghae shakes his shoulder back and forth until his neighbour groans with irritation.

“What’s going on?” he grumbles sleepily, reaching up and grabbing Donghae’s shoulder to stop it from moving.

Tired and wanting to sleep as soon as possible, Donghae ignores his nerves and replies bluntly, “Some lady set her roast on fire at 3am so we all had to come outside. It’s four now and we can go in.”

His neighbour is motionless for a long few seconds until he lifts his face enough to meet Donghae’s eyes, his chin resting heavily on his numb shoulder. “The .”

Cheeks warming with the proximity the other doesn’t seem to notice at all, Donghae clears his throat nervously. “Think about it later, let’s go in.”

“Sleep,” his neighbour agrees. Taking it as a sign he’ll make his own way, Donghae awkwardly steps away and watches the neighbour stumble before catching himself and standing upright. Unsure whether to say goodbye since they’ll be going the same way, Donghae hesitates for a moment before turning and walking straight to the entrance. He hears shuffling behind him and tries to ignore the reflection in the glass door reminding him that his cute neighbour is indeed still in his underwear. “What’s your name?” the boy asks blearily, rubbing his eyes and nearly walking straight into the doorframe.

“Huh?” Donghae’s eyebrows furrow with confusion as he holds the door open. His tired mind pointing out that his surprise isn’t warranted since he doesn’t know the other’s name either, he blinks slowly. “Oh. I’m Donghae.”

“Donghae,” his neighbour repeats carefully, nodding to himself. “Okay. I’m Hyukjae.”