c h a p t e r  o n e ; 

“For the love of god, Donghae, this isn’t a competition!”

Hyukjae climbed onto his bed, knees digging into the soft mattress as he moved towards the bedpost in nothing but a pair of navy blue boxers covered in little monkey prints. Donghae followed closely behind, frown explicitly carved into his features. He refused to back down.

“Stop trying to avoid answering me, Hyukjae! Just tell me; who do you love more? Me or him?”

Hyukjae slid under the covers and pulled it over his head, groaning. It’s been a long day and he wasn’t asking for much; all he wanted was some tranquility, and most definitely not to be bugged by a grown man who resided in the next bedroom. Maybe choosing to bunk in with Donghae wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“You, okay? You! Now leave me alone!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then what was the point of you asking me?!”

Donghae threw himself onto the empty space next to Hyukjae’s warm body, folding his arms. His dark brows furrowed, shadowed by the gathering of his thin lips, forming a childish pout. Believing the man was anything above five really proved to be a challenge, let alone believing that he was twenty-five.

“I just wanted to know what you think of us,” he mumbled, leaning against the bedpost in defeat. “I wanted to know what you think of me.”

“God, what is wrong with you,” Hyukjae whined, exasperated. Donghae had been hounding him for an answer all day. “Can’t I have two best friends?”

“You can, but I’m sure you love one more than the other. Siwon’s always showering you with gifts and taking you to expensive places to win you over, but c’mon. I’m sure we mean something more to you, no? We’ve been friends longer than you and Siwon have!”

Hyukjae pulled the blanket off his face and sat up, turning towards his friend, incredulous. Was this twenty-five-year-old man really that desperate and immature?

“You can’t be serious,” he deadpanned. “Donghae, please, I beg, go get yourself a girlfriend. Please go get yourself a girlfriend. You’re starting to act like I’m some girl the both of you are pursuing. God. Both of you. Girlfriends. Boyfriends. Whatever. Quick.”

Donghae shifted, now facing his blond friend full-frontal. Yes, the twenty-five-year-old man had chased after his friend fresh from a shower and was now seated on his bed in full , demanding an answer to a question Hyukjae found impossible to answer. Hyukjae was used to this.

“Your birthday is coming up,” Donghae said quietly, playing with his fingers.

“So?”

“I’ll prove it to you.”

Hyukjae sighed. “Prove what?”

“That I’m your best friend.”

Hyukjae threw his face in his palms. He could’ve sworn he could physically feel an angry scream bubbling in his throat, swallowing to keep it down. He didn’t want to wake up the entire complex.

“Donghae, you—I just—okay you know what? Do whatever you want. I’m tired, and I want to sleep. I have work tomorrow.”

He rolled onto his side and reached for the bedside lamp, turning it off and leaving the room in pitch black darkness. He thanked his lucky stars, relief washing over him when he felt the weight shift behind him, bed creaking beneath his clingy roommate’s knees. It only occurred to him moments later, however, that said man hadn’t climbed out of his bed at all; instead, he laid down, making himself comfortable next to Hyukjae in his bed. He felt Donghae’s arm crawl up his lower back and snake around his waist like a safety belt.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping with you,” Donghae said crassly, like he made the most absolute sense—like his very statement was justified to the highest order. “Can’t let Siwon get to you first.”

“Lee Donghae, you’re seriously driving me mad—”

“Shhhhhhhh. Go to sleep, Hyukjae. You have work tomorrow.”

Oh. My. God. Hyukjae inhaled deeply, making a conscious effort to slow the rhythm of his breathing and calm down before he’d do anything he’d (maybe) regret, like tossing Donghae out the window.

“Goodnight, Hyukjae!” Donghae exclaimed, scooting closer and grinning against his blond friend’s back.

Hyukjae fought the urge to tear himself away from Donghae’s warm embrace. He was far too tired to put up a fight anyway. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure why he’d agreed to being Donghae’s roommate all those months ago, or why he hadn’t moved out by now. Sure, he secretly enjoyed the affection Donghae doused him in, even if he had to endure his immaturity at times (and by at times, he meant all the time), not that Donghae had to know of course.

“Goodnight, Donghae.” He found himself saying anyway, snuggling under the covers as fatigue caught up to him.

Donghae took the soft snores coming from the man next to him as a cue to loosen his grip around Hyukjae’s waist, walking over to the wardrobe to grab himself a pair of boxers. Hyukjae’s, of course. He put them on, fully aware that Hyukjae would slaughter him alive the following morning if he found out, not that it mattered. He made a quiet exit, retreating to his bedroom a wall away, where he too, allowed exhaustion to envelope him in a peaceful slumber.

Morning intruded the bedroom through a crack in the curtains, painting Donghae’s soft features a bright shade of amber. He rolled onto his belly, pulling a soft pillow over his head in a bid to ward the sunshine off and return to dreamland, his attempt futile. He sighed, pushing himself off the mattress. He rubbed his eyes and parted his lips in a big, hearty yawn before glancing at the alarm clock next to his bed. 8:16 AM.

Donghae swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stretched, groaning shamelessly as he reminded himself to hurry up. Hyukjae usually left the house at half past eight sharp and he didn’t want to miss him. He had jolted awake in the middle of the night and decided to spend the next hour making lunch for him (despite rarely ever turning on the kitchen stove for very valid reasons), placing it in the refrigerator so Hyukjae could bring it to work in the morning.

“Good morning, Hyukjae! I—”

Donghae frowned as he stood in the doorway of Hyukjae’s bedroom, only to find it empty and still. The bed had been made, the window was shut and his friend’s briefcase was missing. Odd. Hyukjae never left earlier than half past eight. Maybe he was eating breakfast.

Skipping towards the kitchen, Donghae grinned, excited to surprise his blond counterpart with the lunchbox he had prepared for him in anticipation of the man’s sweet, grateful smile. Disappointment crawled its way through his skin, however, when he found the kitchen empty; no movement nor sight of Hyukjae eating a sandwich by the countertop, sighing in contentment like he usually would. Instead, he found a plate with a sticky note stuck on the surface of the countertop next to it. He ripped the note off the surface and squinted, struggling to read his best friend’s messy penmanship. A deep frown replaced his goofy grin as he read the note aloud:

Good morning, brat. I hope you’ll be asleep until at least nine, seeing that I’ve left early for work and won’t be around to entertain your shenanigans if you wake up any earlier. I’m meeting Siwon. He offered to pick me up early to have breakfast with me. Rare, huh? Anyway, I made breakfast for you because I know you can’t live without me and would probably starve to death instead of getting yourself something to eat. And please, for the love of god, leave the stove alone. I don’t want you burning the entire house down like you almost did the last time you set foot in the kitchen to cook without my supervision. I swear, Lee Donghae, they should name a natural disaster after you.

I’ll be back around five to take you out for dinner like I promised, okay?

Take care, you silly brat, xx

“Choi Siwon,” Donghae growled, gritting his teeth. He stuck the sticky note on the countertop and huffed, turning his attention to the pastel blue plate of food Hyukjae had prepared for him. On it were two sunny-side ups arranged next to each other, a tomato slice lying on its side in the center, and two strips of crisp bacon at the very bottom. He took a step back and tilted his head curiously, taking several seconds to register that the food formed a smiley face. The bout of anger that had bubbled up inside him towards his competitor began to seep away as he grinned at Hyukjae’s little creation, grabbing a fork and knife. He moved from the countertop to the dining table, carefully placing the plate on a placemat. His eye caught sight of another plate on the dining table, a pastel orange one this time, home to a stack of pancakes with a bottle of syrup stood nearby and another sticky note pasted on the bottle. He read the note aloud once more:

I know you like the back of my hand. Mr Smiley obviously isn’t enough for you and your voracious appetite, so I made some pancakes too. Can’t risk Mr Muscleman losing his guns out of malnourishment. Thank me later. Have a good day at school, Donghae. Pay attention in class and study hard, okay? It’s for your future.

“What a dad,” Donghae mumbled, rolling his eyes. He sat down and began to cut into his bacon, humming contentedly as he chewed. Saying that he didn’t enjoy the care and attention Hyukjae scarcely deluged him with would be a complete lie.

Nonetheless, Donghae was determined to make sure Hyukjae forgot everyone around him, including a certain Choi, so Hyukjae acknowledged him and him only as his best friend. Why was he doing that?

“It’s go time, Lee Hyukjae.”

Only he knew why.