"Hi."

Seungcheol blinks sleepily, still dressed in only his boxers, his pink hair a mess, and squints through the sunlight filtering into his kitchen.

There's a stranger standing at his stove, flipping pancakes, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of plain black boxers. His black hair, cut in a bob that curled around his ears and chin, was slightly damp according to the shine, and he's barefoot.

This angel was smiling at him, and god he looks so gorgeous, like he belonged right there in Seungcheol's kitchen. Seungcheol gawks at him. He thinks he recognises the guy, but he's not sure; the alcohol had done a number on him. His brains still feel like they are rattling around in his head.

"Hey, I used your kitchen, I hope you don't mind," Angel (somehow, his brain has attached the label without his permission) slides a plate of pancakes across the table and smiles up at him. He looks like sunshine and a blessing in his dirty kitchen that is representative of a bachelor pad.

"Do I know you?" he blurts out, grabbing a chair and sinking down into it. Angel laughs prettily, and his face turns just the lightest shade of pink. He brushes his hair away from his face before turning around to pull open some drawers.

"Well, we might have done the dirty, in your bed?" the Angel laughs again, searching his drawers as he tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. "And well, you might have ed me until I was incoherent and babbling your name."

Oh.

Oh.

Right, that party thrown by Kim Mingyu that Soonyoung had insisted that he go with him to. Seungcheol hated parties.

Why had he agreed again? Right, he was bored.

Soonyoung had ditched him the moment they had stepped into the house and Seungcheol also hated it when he did that. Later, he had found him in the kitchen, making out with Lee Jihoon on the counter, their tongues tangled in their mouths and their hands down each other's pants.

Well, he couldn't unsee that now.

Thanks, Soonyoung, so much for being friends and coming to hang out as bros. 

Seungcheol's mouth drops open as he turns his gaze up to look at the angel, who had returned to the table, knives and forks clutched in one hand.

"We, slept, together."

"Yes, we did," the angel rolls his eyes, albeit a little dramatically, and hands him a set of cutlery. "Best I've had in a while, actually."

Seungcheol could only stare dumbly at his plate of pancakes, his mind trying desperately to process what was happening as the angel got up again to poke around his kitchen, reaching up on his tiptoes to open some of the cupboards above the stove.

"Where's your maple syrup?"

"Top right cupboard," he blurts out, finally taking up the knife and fork before blinking rapidly at his plate again in disbelief. He looks up again to see the angel reaching for the syrup, Seungcheol's shirt on him riding up to expose a silver of skin, and his mouth goes dry at the sight.

Get over it, Choi, you saw him last night.

Then the Angel's (god, what was his name?) in front of him again, and he's holding out the maple syrup bottle to Seungcheol, a grin stretching his full lips. The pink-haired male could only accept the bottle dumbly, pouring it over his own pancakes while he watches the other spread liberal amounts of butter on his own, scooping it out from small butter packets presumably raided from Seungcheol's fridge.

"Syrup?" he offers dumbly, his stomach doing flips as the other smiled up at him, his fork in his mouth, his eyes crinkled up into crescents.

"Nah, I don't take it," the Angel stabs his fork into a pancake, taking up another bit of butter on his knife, "but you seemed like the type of person who would, so I asked."

This caught Seungcheol's attention; there was only one type of person who spoke like that. 

"Psychology major?"

"Yeah, fourth year, like you," the other male sighs, peeling open some more butter packets. Seungcheol did not know that he had so many of them.

"Final year projects are killer," he comments carefully, watching the other scrape butter out of the packets and smear it on the top of his pancakes. The other nods, sighing as he the knife and starts cutting up the food on his plate. 

He carefully mimicks the other's movements, putting a piece of pancake in his mouth after smearing it liberally with maple syrup, blinking in surprise as the flavours burst onto his tongue.

"Your pancakes are so fluffy!" he blurts out, cringing internally as some bits flew out of his mouth onto the table. He reaches for the tissues in the middle of the table, thanking his common sense to have left them there some time before. The Angel only lets out a small giggle, daintily covering his mouth and averting his gaze to the side.

"That's what my roommate tells me," he laughs, pushing his fringe back from his face as he leans forward to take a slightly bigger piece into his mouth.

"That's the only reason why he lets me sleep on his couch while he lets his boyfriend take the other room."

Seungcheol snorts, cutting up his pancakes even more after tucking the ball of crumpled tissue under his plate. The angel is only smearing more butter on his pancakes, biting his lower lip in concentration.

"That's ridiculous, why are you sleeping on the couch?"

The other halts in his movements, the flat of the knife blade stilled on the slice of pancake on the fork.

"Well, um, that's because I don't actually, have a place to stay?"

That's new.

Seungcheol doesn't know what to say, and the other is now pushing around bits of pancake around his plate, gnawing at his lower lip.

"Well, all should be alright soon? He put me up with someone that might be interested? I was supposed to call him yesterday, but uh, things happened," he smiles sheepishly at Seungcheol, who feels his heart skip again at the small smile.

"Last night was amazing though, I haven't had a one-night stand in a while," the Angel grins at him, finally eating the piece of pancake on his fork. Seungcheol feels the flush creep up his neck and he coughs awkwardly, taking a bite out of his own food.

"Do you usually do this?" he gestures at the breakfast in front of them, and the other tilts his head (cutely, in Seungcheol's opinion) in a question, "I don't know? Make breakfasts for your one-night stands?"

"Nah, I usually don't stay after we're done either; you're an exception," the black-haired male winks at him and suddenly Seungcheol recalls his name.

"You're....Yoon Jeonghan," he states, more to himself than the other, and he hears the other choke slightly on his pancakes before laughing out loudly, the clear sound ringing out throughout his kitchen. Seungcheol loves it, loves how it seems so natural, like it belongs in his apartment.

"Yes, you seemed to remember it last night though," Jeonghan laughs, wiping his mouth before leaning forward into Seungcheol's face. "And you're Choi Seungcheol, president of the 39th Student Union," he grins, unaware of how his tongue sticks out a bit at the side of his mouth, unaware of how Seungcheol's gaze is drawn towards it, unaware of the effect that it had on his heart,

"Nice to finally meet the famous muse of top photography student Wen Junhui," he quips back, leaning forward so that their noses nearly touched. Jeonghan laughs, pulling away and finishing the rest of his pancakes.

"I'm hardly counted as a muse," he scoffs, wiping the grease on his plate with a large slice of pancake, "I have been crashing on his couch for like, six months. It was the least I could do for him."

"Ah," he nods, finishing up his own breakfast, setting his own cutlery on his plate while he chewed. Jeonghan was done as well, setting his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand. Seungcheol takes the moment to admire how the light fell on his face, how his hair framed his face and how his face structure was enhanced by the pale milky skin that he has.

"I'm going to fire a text off to the guy that I'm supposed to contact for my rent," Jeonghan sighs, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it, pulling his lower lip in between his teeth. It was a cute habit, Seungcheol notes as he takes the plates to the sink, trying to ignore the warm feeling in his chest that the domesticity gave him.

His phone pings from where he had left it on the counter near the microwave and he sighs, reaching for it after dumping the dishes in the sink. He squints at the unsaved number on his screen, before swiping it and typing in his passcode.

Hey, so Junhui told me that you might be looking for a roommate? Not sure how true it is, but please do call/text me back about it? My name's Jeonghan :)

Well, Wen Junhui.

" you, Wen Junhui, you son of a ."

Someone had the same thought, god bless.

Seungcheol turns around to see Jeonghan still at the table, his pretty face screwed up in a scowl, his eyes fixed on the phone in Seungcheol's hand.

Okay, maybe not so blessed.

Seungcheol stands there awkwardly, feeling surprisingly out of place in his own house. His pink hair is still a mess, he is still in his boxers, and Jeonghan is still in his shirt and in his house. , it hadn't been this awkward since he had moved out of the shared dorm that he and Mingyu had shared. He had to come home to Jeon Wonwoo, the three-time awardee of the prestigious Ko-Un Literature prize, , with his bed-hair glory in his roommate's bed.

That had been hella awkward. Nothing could top this though.

Jeonghan's typing on his phone, the tapping sounds from his phone notifying him so, and he's surprised when his phone pings again.

Hey

Just let me live there

I'll pay rent

He snorts, tapping out a pretty standard answer, keeping one eye on the raven still sitting at his dinner table.

lolol

Genius, Seungcheol, you could have given him a witty answer, but you choose to send "lolol". What the actual .

His phone pings again, and he looks down at it, having not locked his screen, and he almost chokes at the text that he sees pop up.

With my

He looks up to stare incredulously at Jeonghan, and the other is looking at him with a straight face, weighing his phone in his hand. The other is biting his lip, pouting slightly, his legs crossed under the table. Seungcheol grins and walks towards the other, leaning down so that their lips were only inches apart.

He doesn't miss the pale pink flush across the high cheekbones and the chiseled nose (there's a small bump there though, he notes, no one's perfect). He smirks, seeing Jeonghan's determination not to pull back.

"With your ? Really?" his breath ghosts across Jeonghan's lips and he can see them trembling, quivering, and he just wants to devour them, kiss them red like how he did last night.

Jeonghan's tongue darts out to at his lips and Seungcheol supresses a groan, trying to ignore how his stomach flipped a little at the movement.

"Not literally," the other breathes up, leaning up just a little, and suddenly he's the one too close, and Seungcheol's the one who blushing, his face getting a little warm.

"I'll pay rent," Jeonghan's breath is warm across his jaw, and the memories from last night pop up in Seungcheol's mind; skin upon skin, sweaty limbs tangled together, all heat and wet, Jeonghan's moans like music to his ears. Seungcheol gulps, but the competitor in him rises, and he stares back, determined not to back down.

"But," Jeonghan's finger is tracing up and down his chest, stopping a bit shy of his . Seungcheol feels the heat going down to his crotch, and a quick glance down at Jeonghan's lower body proved that he wasn't the only one feeling it.

"I guess, my would be a bonus," Jeonghan nips at his lip, his fingernail scratching Seungcheol's , sending jolts of pleasure that went directly to the pink-haired male's nether regions. Deciding he had enough, Seungcheol grabs Jeonghan's face up towards his, tangling their mouths and tongues in a heated kiss. A relieved groan escaps the raven's lips, and he winds his fingers into Seungcheol's pink hair, up into his mouth.

When they finally pull apart, Jeonghan stays leisurely in his arms, tucking his head in the crook of his neck, kissing the skin there.

"I don't think your is the bonus, I think mine is."

Jeonghan laughs brightly, biting lightly at the skin of Seungcheol's neck, and the other has to resist the urge to slam him onto the dining table and rip his shirt off. It is one of his favourite shirts (he thinks it looks better on Jeonghan though), and they just had breakfast on the table. It was not hygienic, thank you very much.

"We'll see, Mr President," Jeonghan leans up to kiss him again, this time chaste and tender, fingers carding through his hair gently.

"We'll see. So is that a yes? Will you let me be your new roommate?"

Seungcheol chuckles into his mouth and pulls Jeonghan's lower lip into his mouth, lightly before releasing it, pressing another kiss lightly to his jaw.

"If you pay rent, I'm not going to complain."