Donghae's lips brush the nape of Hyukjae's neck as he sings his latest composition to his best friend. They're sitting on the floor with Donghae's back against the couch, his legs apart and outstretched while Hyukjae sits cross-legged between them. It's Sunday night and for some reason everyone else is out so they had decided to spend time together. Write something. Snuggle. The usual.

Donghae wraps his arms around Hyukjae's tiny waist and pulls his torso closer. Hyukjae leans back and raises his notebook. His handwriting is neither messy nor neat. "This should match the tune you came up with the other day,"

"You remember how it sounds like?"

"Sort of. I can always rewrite it,"

"Or I can find new notes," Donghae buries his face into Hyukjae's right shoulder, taking in the boy's soapy scent. His fingers are drawing random shapes on Hyukjae's stomach. "I wonder how it's like to be married,"

Hyukjae stops writing and turns his head slightly to the right, seeing the top of Donghae's head from his peripheral vision. He smirks. "Is this because of Leeteuk-hyung and Sora-ssi?"

"Maybe, though I'd like to think of it as an original thought, not a dictated one,"

"Inspired, not dictated,"

"Influenced,"

"That's about right,"

"It's just..." Donghae sighs and lays his head on Hyukjae's back; his temple caves in as it makes contact with a sharp shoulder blade. "...everyone is watching us. We can be attracted to someone but can never touch them. We have the ability to make thousands cry just by holding another's hand. We're everyone's property; even our feelings are not for us to use. How are we supposed to marry someone then?" The thoughts keep coming and with them more questions are interlaced. It's suddenly a terrible thing to be a celebrity, to have a spotlight consistently on you. "At least Leeteuk-hyung is able to experience being married,"

"It's pretend, Hae, just like how children do it," says Hyukjae. "It's nothing like the real thing. They're playing House on television, that's all,"

"It's better than nothing," says Donghae. "He can get away with smiling at her sweetly while we can't even stare at any girl for more than three seconds without getting suspected on,"

Hyukjae bites his lip in contemplation. "This won't last forever. Someday, they're going to let us go. They're going to let us do whatever we want and like whoever we like. In exchange for one person's love, we get hundreds of thousands of other people's love,"

"Yet we don't really want those hundreds of thousands, now do we?" Donghae pokes Hyukjae with his chin when the other doesn't answer. "Do we?"

Hyukjae shakes his head. "No, we don't. We don't want them, but they're all we can have right now," He folds his hands over his chest and on top of Donghaes arms. He then scoots a few inches forward and tilts his head back until it's on Donghae's shoulder. The position is comfortable and warm. "This, too,"

Donghae is suddenly silent.

"Hae?"

"Getting married would mean separation for all of us...right?"

Hyukjae doesn't answer. Not right away. "Yes,"

"All of us living under one roof, doing everything together, sharing each other's secrets and whatnot..." Donghae smiles. "This is marriage,"

"It's the most chaotic marriage," adds Hyukjae, also beaming. "And I wouldn't want to divorce any of you soon,"

Donghae squeezes Hyukjae tighter. "Neither do I. Not when we can still go on. Ah, hyung, I don't want to be married to other people anymore!"

Hyukjae's laugh echoes in the room. Donghae's mood is never fixed; a few words can tweak it higher or lower. It's how things have worked out between the two of them, among all of them. You hate me now but you'll love me later. One moment you're tired and the next you're restless. They all know how to compromise, surrender, fight for what they want, and that makes the marriage work. It's never about getting one's way but getting through together. Donghae's eyes fixate on Hyukjae's One Piece socks when the other boy unfolds his legs. It dawns on him just how many pairs of socks, shirts, pants, and even underwear he's seen Hyukjae wearing through the years. If the day comes that he will no longer be able to know if Hyukjae has bought new clothes or not, could he handle it? Could he bear not being that close anymore?

"I'm hungry," says Hyukjae. "Do you guys have instant noodles?"

"Kyu ate them all last night when he had his game marathon. I think we have some chips, though,"

"And you bought a DVD the other day, didn't you?"

"Mm-hmm,"

"Alright then. Movie time it is," When Hyukjae gets up, so does Donghae. They raid the kitchen for snacks and drinks before setting up the DVD player. There's a silly argument over which remote control is for what which results in Donghae opening the blinds. Hyukjae grabs the correct one and they plop down on the couch, elbows bumping.

With an open bag of chips in his left hand and the other bag in Hyukjae's right, Donghae loosely intertwines their free fingers just to see how the other would react. The movie starts and there's no other sound but that and chips crunching about; there is no shift in movements, either. So, Donghae sits back and enjoys the opening scene: a wide shot of Manhattan in all its glory, a metropolis populated by glass skyscrapers, tied with endless roads of cement, and dotted with greenery and people. He believes his own theory that everything right now has all the makings of a real marriage so he couldn't possibly ask for more. The belief deepens when Hyukjae locks their fingers more securely. Maybe there had been no real ceremony, no exchange of vows, no reception, honeymoon, and certainly no kids, but without a doubt the members of the group are all married to one another.

Donghae stuffs his mouth with chips to prevent him from smiling like an idiot at the idea that despite the arrangement, he is more married to Hyukjae than anyone else, and he intends to keep it that way for as long as he can, for as long as he still knows what socks Hyukjae has in his drawers.