Shrugging his worn leather jacket off his shoulders, Hyukjae throws his backpack at the same time to the corner of his room.

            It lands securely in his trash can.

            “Score!” Hyukjae jumps up and down, secure in the knowledge that no one else should be home right now to see him acting like a crazy idiot (at least, acting like one more than usual).

            A tiny snuffling, almost rustling kind of noise reaches Hyukjae’s ears. He pauses momentarily, but then dismisses it as some kind of raccoon in his yard. Probably.

            Hopefully.

            Haphazardly, Hyukjae s his shirt (why the hell are there so many buttons. Maybe the company that made this shirt is secretly sadistic) and stuffs it into his laundry basket. He freezes, however, when something twitches against his hand.

            Oh man oh man.

            The first thing, unfortunately (he’s been watching too many horror movies), that flashes into his mind is a hostile alien. A creepy humanoid life form with bugged out eyes just waiting to kidnap him when no one is at home.

            Hyukjae suppresses a frightened gasp. It would alert the alien of his presence (or whatever it is).

            His mind has kindly omitted the fact that the ‘alien’ probably already knows that Hyukjae’s in the room judging by the ruckus he has made.

            Hyukjae, cautiously and slowly, like peeling off paper from paint, removes the shirt he has tossed in. There is something distinctively brown and furry looking hidden inside the laundry basket, if Hyukjae looks deep enough. His hand, involuntarily, reaches out and pats it.

            It’s soft. A really soft texture that is quite agreeable to his palm.

            Hyukjae pulls back his hand quickly.

            This is all a trap, he reminds himself. The alien is probably luring him in with this evil, terribly nice and furry thing.

            Nevertheless, his hand has a mind of its own. It goes back to patting the brown thing. He hesitates, and then pokes it.

            It moves.

            Hyukjae lets out a shriek of utter horror that can probably destroy cathedral windows with its high pitch. He steps back, arm-pinwheeling.

            “DON’T KILL ME PLEASE I COME IN PEACE – No wait I mean – I’m A VERY NICE HUMAN Sorry sorry sorry!!!” Hyukjae, contrary to his hysterical message of peace, picks up a pillow from his bed and starts smacking whatever is inside his laundry basket.

            The next thing he knows, the basket falls sideways, and something big comes out of it, headed straight for him. They collide together. Hyukjae collapses under the weight, almost hyperventilating with anxiety, yet still spazzing the hell out.

            “Hyukjae!” The alien wheezes. “Shut up, you’re so annoying when you’re loud!”

            Hyukjae momentarily pauses, and finds himself staring into Donghae’s face.

            He takes a huge breath inwards, and then continues on battering Donghae’s body with his limbs. “What the – how do I know if you aren’t an alien possessing Donghae’s body? Ohmygod, you’re going to possess me next aren’t you? And if you are Donghae, YOU IDIOT WHAT WERE YOU DOING INSIDE MY LAUNDRY BASKET?”

            Donghae traps Hyukjae’s convulsing body underneath him (ooh that sounds dirty. Ugh wait – Hyukjae’s brain, shut up) and frowns. “I thought I was the one who was supposed to believe in aliens.”

            “You have no idea how freaked out I was. That.” Hyukjae pauses. “That was a brilliant prank.”

            Donghae stares, and then clears his throat awkwardly. “Actually. Um. It wasn’t a prank. I wasn’t supposed to be caught.”

            Hyukjae slaps Donghae’s thigh (which is right at his eye-level since he is still being sat on) painfully. “Were you trying to spy on me?”

            Donghae tries to look ashamed and guilty. The look fails. Horribly. “…Just a little?”

            Hyukjae groans. “Getoffme you’re ing heavy.”

            His best friend lets out an offended huff and somehow gets heavier. He crosses his arms. “I’ll have you know, my diet is working fantastically well.”

            Hyukjae scoffs, and then rolls over, pushing Donghae off of him at the same time.

            “Wait. How did you get in here the first place?” Hyukjae massages his circulation back into his legs.

            Donghae bites his bottom lip a little (Hyukjae’s eyes are not staring intensely at that action. Definitely not) and smiles smugly. “Your mom was coming out of the house and she saw me sitting on your porch.”

            “My mom let you into our house?” Hyukjae buries his face into his hands and makes an unintelligible sound.

            “You know, you really sound like a gorilla like that,” Donghae says conversationally. Hyukjae tosses the pillow on the floor right into Donghae’s face. He snickers, and then gets back into business.

            “Okay. Okay. Now. Why. Just whyyyyy would you want to spy on me? You know me better than I know myself!”

            On most points, anyway, Hyukjae mentally adds.

            At this, Donghae shifts his eyes away (very suspicious behavior, Hyukjae notes) and crosses his legs.

            “I was trying to hurrrmjadfhafurrmrur.” At least that’s what the last part sounds like to Hyukjae. Donghae coughs (fakely. That faker) into his fist.

            “Say that again.”

            “Huramfharfurrmur.”

            “Hae.” Hyukjae narrows his eyes threateningly.

            Donghae throws up his arms in the classical surrender position. “Okay! Fine! I was just trying to find out who you liked!”

            At this, Hyukjae freezes.

            His heart pounds.

            His throat dries.

            His eyes dilate.

            His –

            Okay okay we get it.

            Is this what Hyukjae think it is?

            What does he think it is? He himself has no idea.

            “Why?” Hyukjae asks cautiously.

            Donghae looks out the window in deliberate non-eye contact position. “No reason. Just curious.”

            “You just listed two reasons there,” Hyukjae said dryly.

            Donghae doesn’t respond. His hands are tugging on Hyukjae’s carpet, unraveling each strand neurotically. Hyukjae slaps his hands away from his precious carpet.

            “It cost a lot of money from my allowance,” Hyukjae hisses. He then stares at Donghae when there is, incredibly, no smartass retort.

            Now it’s Hyukjae’s turn to clear his throat awkwardly. “Well. You know. You could’ve just asked me about who I liked.”

            A beam of dazzlingly bright sunshine suddenly radiates from Donghae’s face. “Really?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Okay.” There is a long pause. Then, “Who do you like?”

            Hyukjae looks serious for a moment and opens his mouth: “I’m not telling you.” His serious aura crumbles as he snickers uncontrollably at the ‘trolled’ expression that Donghae is currently sporting.

            Donghae, however, quickly recovers – after smacking Hyukjae with his own pillow several times of course.

            “Fine then. I’ll just guess.”

            Hyukjae transitions quite speedily from laughing his off to being horrified. “No don’t!”

            He is too late. Donghae is already spouting off the names like he has some kind of mental list in his head.

            “Jonghyun Hongki Krystal Taemin Heechul Minwoo Tiffany – IT’S TIFFANY ISN’T IT?” Donghae suddenly stops and shakes Hyukjae by the shoulders. By this time, Hyukjae is already choking at how preposterous some of the names Donghae has listed are.

            “Minwoo? He’s our teacher! What the hell, Jonghyun that kid with the peacock feather always in his hair – And wait NO it’s not her!”

            “Oh. Well.” Donghae’s eyebrows furrow and he looks ready to continue on. Hyukjae shuts him up by slapping his hand onto his mouth.

            “Shush. And don’t my hand!” Hyukjae warns when he sees that familiar devilish look on Donghae’s face.

            His hand slowly retreats after Hyukjae has determined that Donghae isn’t going to go onto another name-guessing rant.

            “Fine. Since you’re so obstinate about this, I’ll tell you.” Hyukjae holds a hand up when Donghae has his sun-shiney expression on him again. “But on one condition.” A black scowl appears on Donghae’s face. “Only if Henry wins the talent competition during our school festival.”

            There is a long period of silence. Donghae, if possible, looks even more depressed. “But he said he didn’t even want to enter.” 

            Hyukjae smirks. “Exactly.”

            “And we don’t even know if he’s talented at all!”

            His smirk widens to the edge of his ears. “All valid points.”

            Donghae lets out a big groan of frustration. “You just gave me an impossible task to do!”

            “Hurhur,” is Hyukjae’s derpy answer.

            “Fine. Fine. Be that way.” Donghae sticks out his tongue, and picks up his bag (whoa whoa since when was it there?) from the ground. He stomps out of the room, but not before turning his head and yelling: “You’ll see! I can do this!”

            Hyukjae is still smiling in victory after Donghae’s grand exit, but it’s quickly wiped out as Donghae’s determined expression registers into his mind. Hyukjae pales.

            What has he just done?

            It has also just occurred to Hyukjae that he was shirtless the whole time.

LOL OMFG what did I just write. XD That was freaking fun though. I didn't  even expect half the things that just happened.