All strange happenings aside, Hyukjae has gotten pretty used to hosting an alien. The classic challenges – which foods to eat and how, technology and what not to scream at, transport and don’t even mention cockroaches – had been messy but manageable, and teaching Donghae about different cultures and Earth’s history had been fun.

Most days are simple by now, and Donghae has fit in so well at the hospital that even the grouchiest Nurse Unit Managers don’t get pissed off by him… though his telepathy probably has a lot to do with it.

Hyukjae is still salty about that.

Settled in for the night, he’s curled into his comfiest chair with a cup of tea, a book in hand and the TV on. It would be a perfect night if it wasn’t for the niggling anxiety he gets whenever Donghae isn’t accounted for.

A loud bang from the kitchen confirms his suspicions. Rolling his eyes, Hyukjae sets his book aside and makes a beeline for the source of the noise.

Donghae is on the floor, surrounded by pots and pans. Hyukjae stares silently, mug steaming in his hand as he takes in the damage. There are pots he hasn’t used in years – and he could’ve sworn he’d lost the muffin tin now halfway in some fluffy creature’s maw.

Donghae bats his eyelashes innocently. “This is Tulip. She was hungry.”

Hyukjae decides that no, he doesn’t want to know. “Sneak her into next door. They’re on holiday.” He nods at Tulip. “Start with the pro conservative sign on the law