An arm pulls him tighter against a warm body, and Hyukjae sighs in contentment as his eyelids flutter shut.

Somewhere between his wakeful consciousness and falling asleep, he realizes that he has fallen in love.

It’s not too bad a feeling.

--

If you asked him how it all began, he’ll tell you this: like every other modern day love story.

It took one song with the right tempo blasting off the speakers with enough disco lights to make him dizzy, two hours spent at the bar and three attempts at flagging down a cab in their drunken state to have them stumbling into Hyukjae’s apartment in the dead of the night, their hands never once leaving each other.

Hyukjae vaguely remembers thinking that was some great and doing something like make a mental note to thank his asshat friend Kyuhyun for ditching him at the bar, and that was when he felt it.

The stranger – or not, he wonders if someone can still be considered a stranger when you’ve literally just spent the night together in the most intimate way possible, but then again he barely knows anything about this man, except that his name is Donghae and that his looks are quite exceptional – tucks his blond head carefully into Hyukjae’s neck and presses a soft kiss against it before making a small sound, seemingly pleased with himself.

Hyukjae decides that his brain does not have the capacity to comprehend who Donghae is to him -- stranger or not, right at that moment, and he promises to think about it in the morning.

Donghae snuggles closer, and Hyukjae remembers his heart skipping a beat (out of absolutely nothing, he might add) as he struggles to stay awake, his eyelids drooping heavier by the minute. The last word he has on his mind? .

--

What’s the most awkward part about a one-night stand? Well, it’s almost always the morning after.

So there a few ways to do this, okay, Hyukjae has done this enough times to be able to tell you that.

First, you can hope your partner wakes up in the middle of the night, feels shameful enough to tiptoe around and pick up their clothes from the ground before they leave, while you pretend to be asleep and have your face buried deep into the pillow as that unfolds.

Second, maybe the both of you will wake up in the morning, hold an awkward conversation that goes something like “oh yeah right it was nice meeting you but I have to run now so if we ever meet again maybe we can-” before watching them walk out of the threshold and never seeing them again for the rest of your life.

Third, you might wake up to a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, and if you’re lucky enough, that meal might just be edible. (Hyukjae can tell you from experience that some people just aren’t as good as preparing breakfast as they are in bed. God is fair in ways like that.)

Or maybe if you yourself are in a mood good enough, then four, you might be the one making breakfast.

What he means to say is that there are literally a thousand different ways the morning after can unfold, but what he never expected was this.

He opens his eyes, catches a face full of the glaring sunlight, and closes his eyes again. Then he realizes something is off, because the other side of his bed – usually empty, is still occupied.

What the hell man, does this guy know nothing about proper and polite morning-after etiquettes? Hyukjae thinks to himself. Who the stays in bed and continues to sleep like a dead log in a stranger’s bed?

Then he makes the mistake of turning his body around to face this man deep in his slumber.

First it elicits a pleasant-sounding whine from the unwilling dreamer, which is everything Hyukjae did not need at 9 in the ing morning, because that was oddly y.

Then comes his gravest mistake of all time… turning his head to look at him.

Hyukjae’s heart stutters at the sleeping form on display right before his eyes, his breath unknowingly stilling.

His eyes trace the contours of Donghae’s face, and Hyukjae is freaking the out because he didn’t know he bagged the very embodiment of Adonis the night before.

Sure, he knew Donghae was good-looking when he first made eye contact with him across the bar.

Fine, very good-looking in fact, when he sat next to him and watched as Donghae downed a shot of vodka, with eyelids that framed his doe eyes fluttering shut as he tilted his head backwards.

Hyukjae had gulped then, and when Donghae threw his head back and laughed all of a sudden he felt like that was the only sound he wanted to hear in his life from then on, and Hyukjae made a promise to himself that he was going to take him home.

Which is also why they are where they are right now, but anyway.

Hyukjae examines his smooth, tanned skin, his high nose and chiselled jaw and barely resists the urge to acquaint his fingers with his facial features.

But the soreness and aches Hyukjae feels across his entire body tell him maybe Donghae isn’t all that innocent or angelic as his face suggests. Huh, he thought, who knew someone with a face like this had the ability to do things like that?

In hindsight maybe staring at Donghae’s sleeping form was a little creepy, but believe Hyukjae when he says that he couldn’t help himself.

If God sends you a gift from heaven, you bet your you’re going to spend some time admiring this piece of art.

Hyukjae hopes God at least mentioned something like that in the bible, or else he would have done Siwon, his deeply religious and God-loving friend dirty.

Hyukjae contemplates running his hand through Donghae’s blond hair, and that’s when it happened.

Donghae opened his eyes.

He blinks twice, taking in his surroundings, before turning the full force of his gaze on Hyukjae, who is trying very hard not to scream and jump out of bed, thank you very much.

As Hyukjae meets his eyes, still misty with sleep, all he could think of was ‘Donghae is very, very pretty’. That was literally all that he had in mind. God ing damnit, and here he thought he wasn’t a unicellular organism.

Can you believe it was Donghae who broke the silence?

Donghae, who just woke up approximately ten seconds ago and looks like he could fall right back into his slumber? And not Hyukjae, who is the owner of this house and bed and has already been up for God knows how long, mesmerised by the real-life sleeping beauty lying right next to him? What the hell man, Hyukjae.

Anyway.

“Go-good morning?” Donghae mutters, his voice thick with sleep as he lets his eyes roam around Hyukjae’s room. “You, uh, have a really nice room.”

Hyukjae’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, and he thinks to himself, maybe it won’t be that bad. Donghae seems to be as bad at this as he is, whatever this may be.

“Thanks, I guess?” Hyukjae clears his throat, embarrassed when his voice comes out a croak. “So… do we get out of bed or?”

Donghae startles at his question, immediately removing the arm that was very firmly wrapped around Hyukjae’s torso as he visibly fights a blush.

Hyukjae tries very hard not to stare at his rose-tinted cheeks.

Donghae scratches his head in annoyance as he carefully disentangles their legs and mutters an apology softly. “I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to- cling onto you like that.”

Hyukjae is ashamed to realise that he barely noticed how tangled up they were for however long he was up, because of the comfort and the odd sense of familiarity he felt while in bed with Donghae.

Donghae is still staring at him, his eyes fogging up a little and in turn evoking a weird feeling in Hyukjae that he never knew he had the ability to feel.

Oh right, he was expecting a response.

“Nah it’s cool. It must have gotten cold into the night, I’m guessing,” Hyukjae says, adding what he hopes is a reassuring smile at the end.

No worries, he had absolutely every idea how stupid his darn comment was, alright.

Then Donghae returned his own answering grin, and Hyukjae swears to God he is this close to losing his ing mind.

He forces himself to look away from Donghae’s face and tries to sit up in bed, before slipping back under the covers when he realises they were both -. “Okay, um-” he manages, trying very hard not to sound like a teenager caught with magazines under his bed. Why is it so specific, you may ask? Well, it certainly did not come from Hyukjae’s past childhood experiences, so shut up and stop probing.

Donghae realizes the complexity of the issue Hyukjae was talking about, and fights down another blush that was turning his neck red. “Our clothes are on the floor so-” he provides unhelpfully, turning to look at Hyukjae once again.

Hyukjae decides, like an adult would, that the most logical way to work their way around this was: “You can go to the bathroom first, it’s right beside my closet. I’ll get you your clothes when I’m um- dressed.”

Donghae turns to look at the above-mentioned bathroom, which is decidedly quite a distance from where he is residing in bed.

He raises an eyebrow questioningly, bunching the sheets around himself even more tightly.

“I… promise I won’t look?” Hyukjae offers.

Donghae pouts, he pouts okay and Hyukjae’s brain probably short-circuited for a moment.

He sighs, taking a final look at Hyukjae, who has helpfully planted his arm over his eyes, before darting towards the bathroom the fastest his legs could carry him.

If he were to be honest though, and he always is, Hyukjae might have peeked a little.

--

After Hyukjae passes Donghae his own clothes (he decided it wasn’t nice forcing Donghae into his dirty clothes from the night before), he sits on the bed for a while before deciding he should probably do something more productive.

What would Donghae think if he came out of the shower fresh-faced and met eyes with sleepy Hyukjae staring into space bunched up in the blankets like a creep? Not that it mattered what he thought, of course.

So he heads into the kitchen and pulls open the refrigerator and ends up staring at the egg tray for much longer than is usual.

He’s never been one to cook, and breakfast is a luxury he’s never had the time to afford, but he thinks scrambled eggs can’t be that hard to make… right?

But he doesn’t know what else he can do, and for some reason a tiny voice is nagging at him not to starve Donghae or let him go without at least eating something, so he sighs a deep sigh and pulls out a few eggs from the tray.

He rolls up his pyjamas sleeves and prays that the few times he has actually watched his mum cook will pay off now.

He’s off to a bad start.

First the oil splatters everywhere.

Then Hyukjae has a very hard time trying to flip the egg without burning it at the bottom.

Belatedly he realises he set out making scrambled eggs so it probably didn’t matter whether he flips it or not, but then he also knows it is too late to go back and just ends up doing whatever with the eggs.

Eggs are just eggs anyway.

At least he plates them nicely on one of the plates from the array of clean dishes he has on the drying rack. Yes Hyukjae lives alone, no he isn’t one of those unhygienic douchebags who leaves their dirty dishes to pile up in the sink. Hyukjae wouldn’t call himself a clean freak, but he is clean alright.

Then he realises that the water hasn’t stopped running in the bathroom (yes he has good hearing), so he decides maybe he can put more food on the table.

He takes out a few slices of bread and slots two into the toaster. He sets the temperature at high and watches the light turn red.

The water in the bathroom still running.

The same tiny voice from before comes back into his head, though it now sounds a little pissed off. How come Donghae is spending so damn long in the toilet? it wonders. The earth is dying and yet he is one of those freaks who spends hours in the bathroom?

But Hyukjae tells that voice to shut up.

Donghae deserves to take a long shower, okay. Plus it hasn’t been that long since he went in. Maybe 15 minutes? Not that Hyukjae was counting, obviously, because he doesn’t care. Donghae deserves to take a long shower. Plus 15 minutes isn’t even that long. Though Hyukjae usually comes out in less than 10. Maybe Donghae thinks the water here is comfortable, which Hyukjae should take as a compliment? Though it would be nice if he came out soon. Not that this is about Hyukjae’s bills, because it’s not, but more that it would be nice to chip in and help save the earth.

Then the two slices of bread jump out of the toaster and nearly give Hyukjae the greatest heart attack of his life. This is why you shouldn’t think bad thoughts, he chastises himself. Just let Donghae bathe in peace.

As mentioned previously, Hyukjae isn’t one for breakfast and he clearly underestimated the heat a toaster is capable of producing because even though he was the fool who set it on high temperature he ends up being surprised to see the two white slices are now burnt to black.

He raises his eyebrows in confusion and picks up the two slices to throw them away. He did this quickly because he is swift like that, not