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When you wake up in the morning at 7, Kyungsoo's bedroom door is still closed. You greet the maid and have breakfast before heading off for work.
 

The deejay rouses from his sleep three hours later, busying himself with some paperwork and catching up with news headlines until late afternoon, where he leaves for his night shift.


At about 11 pm, you return to the house, utilizing the time to do some laundry (you refused the maid's help earlier) and watching the news.

Sleep finds you minutes after midnight and you faintly recognize the droning of vehicle into the garage before slipping off.

It becomes some sort of a routine.


You realize the deejay doesn't usually return home until one a.m. in the morning.

You stop catching the last bus home, opting for an earlier timing before ten to avoid clashing with the deejay.



It's almost pleasurable, you think. Like having a room mate that doesn't bother you and it helps that the neighborhood is always calm and quiet. You even found a quaint little cafe nearby where they serve excellent desserts and tea.


At the end of the week, you actually feel the arrangement isn't that bad after all.

Kyungsoo, on the other hand, is feeling troubled over the upcoming weekend.

He had crashed at Baekhyun's place the week before to avoid any head-on clashes with you, but duly regrets the decision after witnessing some of the raunchiest acts he didn't know can exist between males. Besides, he can't possibly camp in with other people during weekends for the rest of his life isn't it?
 

It's with this thought that he sticks it out come Saturday, choosing to wake slightly earlier and probably get out of the house before you are up.


Sera, the housemaid doesn't come around on weekends, so Kyungsoo prepares a simple breakfast of toast and eggs for himself. He's trying to twist the new jam jar open when the cap pops off, leaving splatters of strawberry jam all over the counter top and ugh... the floor. Some of it flew as far as two meters away into the living room.
 

Groaning, Kyungsoo wipes up as much as he can with a dish towel and retrieves the mop from the cabinet.


He has just finished mopping when he hears soft thudding on the staircase.

You're up.
 

Damn.

He quickly replaces the mop and steals back into the kitchen, hoping to avoid any conversation.

How the hell are you up so early on a Saturday anyway?

He glances at the clock. It's only 7:30 a.m.



Unknown to Kyungsoo, you had chosen to wake early for exactly the same reason. Get breakfast. Get out of the house.

You haven't expect the deejay to be up so early either, realizing only when you reach the bottom of the staircase and spots the male in the kitchen instead of the house maid.


Suddenly, the deejay's eyes flit upwards and meets your gaze briefly, before he goes back to spreading jam on the toast again.



It's awkward if you are to creep back upstairs now, so you brave the situation by stepping towards the kitchen.

Should you say hi?

Or just ignore him?

And Kyungsoo is wondering the same thing when he hears a sharp cry and then a dull thud.

"Ow..." You moan, holding on to your ankle. You had slipped on the wet floor.


Kyungsoo is battling internally whether to help you or wait until you ask, but then he sees you still wincing, seemingly unable to get up, so he moves instinctively.

"Are you... ok?" In an instant, he's by your side.


"Y-Yeah." You reply but your body is refusing to cooperate with you. "Just... Gimme a second."



"Where... Does it hurt?" His worried eyes rake over you.


You rub wordlessly at your ankle.
 

How can he forget? You had twisted your ankle during that gangster get-up a week ago.

"Can you walk?" He asks.

You nod, forcing yourself up from the floor and wobbling dangerously in the process.


Kyungsoo extends a hand to steady you and leads you to the couch.
 

"Did Sera just mop the floor?" You breathe heavily as you sit down.


"Sera doesn't come on weekends, if you haven't already noticed."

Ah, you forgot about that.

"It's... I... spilled some jam on the floor just now and mopped, that's why the floor's wet." He mumbles apologetically. "I'll get you some ointment."
 

The scene feels strangely deja vu.

You remember the last time he tended to your injury. It's nice to be taken care of though. Usually, it's the other way round.

As he totters back into the living room with a bottle and towel, you mutter a quiet "thanks" and proceeds to rub on the ointment. You bite back a wince when you try to turn your ankle and the deejay notices it.

"It still hurts?"

"I'm okay." You lied.


Stubborn girl.

Kyungsoo plops on the coffee table facing you.

"Let me take a look."

His voice is commanding as he drapes the towel across his lap, motioning you to lift your leg. You hesitate a little before complying grudgingly.


"Tell me if it hurts."

Sliding three fingers gently across your ankle, he asks lowly, "Here?".

"No."

You shake your head, shivering a bit from the touch and attributing it to the suddenness of skin against skin.


"Here?"

"No."

"How about he--"

You yelp.

Quietly, the deejay works at rubbing some ointment between his hands, kneading and dragging deft fingers along your leg. Slowly and firmly. The part where he presses your heel nearly killed you, but you put up with the pain, adamant on not giving the guy another show of your weakness.

Kyungsoo, however, observes your knuckles turning white as you grip onto the edge of the sofa.

Being stubborn, aren't we?

The deejay purposely puts in more pressure and you bite down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming out.



After a few seconds and seeing that you are still unrelenting, the male lets up on his force and you relax visibly. He spots a bit of blood where you were biting so hard on your lips and guilt pricks in.
 

This girl is really something.


On the other hand, you are thinking it's been a long time since you've gone through foot reflexology like this and it's still painful as hell. And you are quite sure the guy is not being utterly gentle but after a few more minutes, the pain subsides and warmth replaces it instead.


You have to admit, he's pretty good at this.

Another minute later, the male lowers your feet on the ground and cleans off his hands on the towel.


"Try walking." He tone is plain and impassive.


You obey, not wanting to cook up a nuisance.



It feels numb, but you are definitely walking fine again.

"Thanks." You mutter.


He gives a muffled grunt in reply.
 

You think you should probably return the favor of him tending to your leg somewhat. You don't like to owe people, though technically this time round, it is actually his fault.



A melodic ring interrupts your thoughts and Kyungsoo moves swiftly into his room to pick up his phone.

There's some muted conversation before you hear the deejay raising his voice in a not so amused tone.

"What? No! I'm not going to cook for you and Chanyeol... I owe you two nothing and you fail to mention all the impurity you make my poor eyes go through... I don't care... Wait, no! Hello? Hello?!"


There's some mumbling of stupid byunbaek and hungry giraffe before the deejay reappears in the living room.


"Erm, my friends are coming over later in the evening." Kyungsoo announces somewhat sheepishly.


"Do you want me to... make myself scarce?"

"That wasn't my intention of telling you but... " He glances at you hopefully.



"It's ok."

An idea pops up in your head.

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Kyungsoo has been holding in his curiosity for the past hour while hearing the bustling from the kitchen and just when he thinks he can't take it anymore, there's a knock on his bedroom door.


"Yes?"

"Erm... I cooked."

You gesture towards the kitchen.



The deejay peers over your shoulder and his eyes widen.


Even from the distance, he can see the impressive spread on the kitchen table, enough to feed at least four people.


"For you and your friends..." You catch the question in his eyes and adds quickly. "I'm not joining you guys, I'll be having dinner with my brother. If you guys don't want to eat it then... Throw it away or something..."

"It's okay..." The thought of throwing out so much food makes him frown. You nod and return to your room.
 

Confusion is still whirling in Kyungsoo's brain when you left the house ten minutes after.



The door bell rings and he snaps out of his reverie.


There's boisterous laughter filling the doorway and immediately, the deejay knows who's here.

"Kyungsoooo..." As usual, Baekhyun coos his name the moment he opens the door. Before the deejay can respond, his taller counterpart is already making a beeline for the kitchen.



"Food, Baekkie!" Chanyeol, aka Baekhyun's giant boyfriend and manager, exclaims.

"Duh, Channie... Our baby Kyungsoo made dinner for us after all..."


The two cast the most disgustingly sweet expressions at the deejay and he gags a little.



"The last time I checked, Sera and your grandma don't make sweet potato cakes like these." Baekhyun points out.


"And it doesn't taste the same either," Chanyeol mumbles, his mouth stuffed from a handful of meat already. "This is definitely prepared by somebody else. And that somebody isn't you. Because you don't make Korean dishes..."


Kyungsoo is about to protest when Baekhyun chirps in.

"Channie's right. Your forte has always been western dishes. There's no way you suddenly know how to make all of these within what, two weeks?"


"Shows how much you two have been leeching off me. You know exactly what I'm capable of."

The singer ignores his best friend's sarcastic tone and lifts an eyebrow. "So?"


"So what?"


"Who made all these?"

His two friends crowd in front of his face.


Kyungsoo heaves a sigh.
 

This is going to be a long dinner.

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