When morning comes, Hakyeon rolls over in his messy bed and drapes an arm over the side, touching the off button on his phone's alarm clock. He picks up the device and looks at the time. 7:46 a.m. No doubt Wonshik and that Taekwoon kid aren't up yet, Hakyeon thinks to himself, dropping his phone and rolling back onto his bed. He sighs, rubbing his eyes with clenched fists then running his hands through his chocolate brown hair. Begrudgingly, Hakyeon throws off his covers and slithers out of bed, bedhead sticking every which way and flannel pajama pants slightly askew on his hips. He quietly opens his door and steps into the hall, taking a moment to press his ear to Wonshik's door. After a few seconds of hearing nothing, Hakyeon steps away and continues into the kitchen, his eyes trained on the floor.

It's habit for him to make a pot of coffee right away and he sets about doing so, although his mind feels a bit preoccupied. Just in the next room there are two people, potentially in love, cuddled together under warm blankets in each other's arms. Hakyeon can't help the pang of loneliness he feels at thinking about this. He can't really explain it—he's truly happy that Wonshik has found someone, Hakyeon's always thought that it would be a good thing for Wonshik to find someone to pour all his love on, but at the same time, Hakyeon wishes Taekwoon didn't exist. Dolefully, Hakyeon spoons out the ground coffee into the filter in the machine and pours in the water. He presses the on switch and waits.

Hakyeon looks around at the walls of Wonshik's apartment, taking in all the artwork and all the love and care Wonshik poured into it. With a twinge of bitterness, Hakyeon wishes he could be the recipient of some of that love. "As friends," Hakyeon murmurs to himself, and the coffee maker gurgles quietly. Liar, his inner voice scolds him. Hakyeon folds his arms and rests them on the counter, hanging his head and hunching his shoulders. You knew this day would come. Hissing, Hakyeon straightens up again. "Cha Hakyeon, Kim Wonshik is your roommate. No more, no less," he says to himself, gripping the edge of the counter. "He's got somebody already." The light on the coffee maker turns off, signaling that the pot of coffee is done brewing. He grabs a mug out of the cupboard and pours himself a cup of coffee, blowing lightly on the liquid's surface in hopes to cool it down. Quietly, Hakyeon settles into the armchair in the living room and sips at his coffee, waiting for the sun to rise just a bit more and for Wonshik and the other to stir.

It's about 9 o'clock when Hakyeon hears rustling from Wonshik's room, and the coffee abandoned in his hands has gone stone cold. Hakyeon breaks out of his space-cadet reverie and Wonshik's bedroom door creaks open. Although he can't see from his seat in the armchair, Hakyeon listens to the footsteps trailing out of Wonshik's room with a careful ear.

He nearly jumps and throws his cold coffee on the floor when it's Taekwoon that appears at the end of the hallway leading from the bedrooms to the living room, bundled in what is obviously Wonshik's comforter, very puffy-eyed and groggy. Hakyeon's heart thunders in his chest as Taekwoon eyes him up and down. Taekwoon flicks his eyes away after a moment and shuffles into the kitchenette, taking the liberty to rummage through the cabinets to find two coffee mugs, struggling to keep Wonshik's comforter about himself. He finds two cups and pours coffee into them, topping off the second when Wonshik comes lumbering out of the bedroom, clad only in pajama bottoms.

"I smelled coffee," Taekwoon murmurs, handing Wonshik one of the mugs. Hakyeon watches from afar, feeling as though he's on the outside of a glass case looking in, or watching something on a screen. He can almost taste their connection, even from afar.

"Thank you," Wonshik replies; Hakyeon thinks Wonshik is standing a little too close to Taekwoon, but there isn't much he can do. Hakyeon rotates the cup of coffee in his hands.

Taekwoon turns to Wonshik and now they're chest to chest—Hakyeon rotates his cup a little more nervously. "I wasn't sure which of your clothes were okay for me to wear and which weren't, and my clothes from yesterday are… so I just…" Taekwoon fidgets with the comforter, and then it hits Hakyeon. Taekwoon's not wearing anything under Wonshik's blue plaid comforter. Hakyeon bolts upright.

Both Wonshik and Taekwoon turn sleepy eyes on Hakyeon, and Hakyeon clears his throat awkwardly. "G-good morning," he stammers.

"Morning," Wonshik replies with a warm smile, and Hakyeon tries to stop his heart from melting out of his chest and running down his leg. It was never like this before, Hakyeon thinks angrily. Why now? Hakyeon's eyes meet with Taekwoon's, and Hakyeon wishes Taekwoon would smile because damn those tired eyes might as well bore holes through him.

Hakyeon forces himself to saunter into the kitchen and dump the remainder of his cold coffee into the sink, brushing past Wonshik and Taekwoon.

"How did you sleep?" Wonshik asks as Hakyeon brushes past again on his way back into the living room.

"Fine," Hakyeon blurts, plopping down in the arm chair again.

"I heard you come back fairly late, was the laundromat pretty busy?" Wonshik chuckles, laying a hand on Taekwoon's comforter-clad elbow as Taekwoon sips at his black coffee.

Hakyeon shrugs. "Yeah. I guess."

Hakyeon watches with jealous eyes as Wonshik gives that little half-smile with half-lidded eyes he always gives and huffs a tiny "heh". Leaning back in the armchair, Hakyeon's pretty sure there's no avoiding his melting heart now.

"Have you looked outside yet?" Taekwoon asks in his tiny, mousy voice.

"No," Wonshik replies, setting down his coffee cup and running both hands through his dark brown hair. He shuffles to the window in the living room afterward, breezing past Hakyeon and pushing aside the curtain on the window. Outside, everything is still covered in an even blanket of white crystalline snow, sparkling in the morning sunlight. Wonshik sleepily rubs an eye. The snow doesn't look too fresh, so Wonshik supposes it'd probably be safe to go places in a car. "I think it'd be safe to drive, probably," he calls back to Taekwoon. Hakyeon feels utterly ignored and put out at that moment—he knows he shouldn't, because he knows that Wonshik cares for him no matter who else is there, but for some reason, Hakyeon can't help feeling threatened. Taekwoon… Taekwoon is so much prettier, with his jet black hair and porcelain white skin, and just simply captivating with his soft voice and intense dark eyes. Hakyeon looks down at his tan hands folded in his lap. "Do you have chains for your tires? To drive in the snow?" Wonshik continues, turning around from the window. Unexpectedly, Wonshik touches Hakyeon on the shoulder. "Hakyeon, do you know if we have any?"

The hair on the back of Hakyeon's neck stands on end at Wonshik's touch. Slowly, Hakyeon nods. "I think we have some in the hall closet."

Wonshik removes his hand from Hakyeon's shoulder and goes to check the hall closet at the front of their apartment, banging around loudly. Taekwoon's eyes flick around, looking at the apartment sleepily. Hakyeon thinks Taekwoon might be ignoring him at first, but then Taekwoon's eyes meet Hakyeon's. There's no connection at all—not a negative one, not a positive one. They might as well have been corpses making eye contact.

The loud clank of chains echoes through the apartment, and both Taekwoon and Hakyeon assume Wonshik's found the snow chains. "Found them," Wonshik announces, voice muffled by the small closet. "Taekwoon, I can help you put them on."

"Okay," Taekwoon answers, but he heaves a sigh afterward that seems to continue his answer with "but I'm strong enough to do it myself". Although Hakyeon feels put-off by it all, he can't help but chuckle at the way Wonshik and Taekwoon interact. They're like an old married couple, Hakyeon thinks, they'll be finishing each other's sentences in no time.

Wonshik drags the snow chains for Taekwoon's tires into the middle of the living room, and drops them next to the coffee table. Hakyeon watches warily, liking the way Wonshik's shoulders looks without a shirt over them. Not that Hakyeon hasn't seen them plenty of times when it was just he and Wonshik hanging around in the apartment. But for some reason, perhaps because of a certain -except-for-a-comforter Taekwoon that Wonshik is more than likely in love with is standing right there, Hakyeon's cheeks heat up.

"When do you want to go over to your place?" Wonshik asks Taekwoon as he straightens up.

Taekwoon shrugs and the comforter slips off one shoulder. "Whenever you're ready," he mumbles. "Can I take a shower?"

"Oh, sure," Wonshik says, and points down the hall. "It's down the hall on the left." Wonshik watches Taekwoon shuffle down the hall, and open the door to the bathroom and peek inside before stepping in and shutting the door behind himself. After a moment the door opens again, just a little bit, and Taekwoon tosses Wonshik's blue plaid comforter into the hallway. Wonshik chuckles at this, then moves to flop down on the couch. He looks over at Hakyeon in their solitary armchair.
 
"You weren't really at the laundromat until late last night, were you?" Wonshik phrases it more like a statement of fact than a question.

Hakyeon shakes his head in defeat. "I knew you and Taekwoon would need an empty apartment, so I made myself scarce." Of course Hakyeon knew Taekwoon and Wonshik had slept together—there was no other explanation as to why Taekwoon came out of Wonshik's bedroom wearing naught more than a plaid comforter and a pair of red, sleepy eyes.

And for Wonshik, it was exactly as he'd guessed. Wonshik knew he was right to give Hakyeon credit for being smart enough to pick up on what was happening. He smiles. "Thanks, man."
 
Hakyeon ignores Wonshik's thanks and sniffles loudly. "So what do you think of him? Taekwoon." Hakyeon looks pointedly at his roommate.

Wonshik pulls his knees up to his chest and inhales long and slow. He can hear the shower running down the hall, and through the rush of water, a soft voice singing. "He's incredible, as a person. His mind is… there's just so much inside of it that he never tells anyone." Wonshik exhales.

Hakyeon chews on his bottom lip, and his heart begins to thunder in his chest.

Wonshik continues on. "He's sensitive, and I don't think anyone's gotten as far as I have."

"Or people have gotten farther than you and then ed up and hurt him pretty bad," Hakyeon blurts, and Wonshik looks at him with wide eyes. Hakyeon closes his mouth right away, since he'd left it hanging open.

Wonshik moves his eyes to the curtained window. "You're right," he says thoughtfully. "That could be exactly it."

It pains Wonshik to realize that. He'd thought that Taekwoon was just naturally quiet and ever so slightly self-hating, and that could partially be the case, but… it makes sense. That Taekwoon had been hurt by someone in his past. Maybe a lover, maybe a friend, maybe his family. There's no way for Wonshik to know without asking him directly. Wonshik thinks about Taekwoon, listening hard to hear his voice over the roar of the shower. He can't believe that hadn't occurred to him. And it's a fairly obvious possible reason for Taekwoon's behavior, too. Wonshik brings his thumb to his mouth to chew on his nail.

"Hey," Hakyeon mumbles, waving a hand in front of Wonshik's disconnected eyes. He'd gotten up when it looked like Wonshik had blasted off to another planet or maybe the moon behind those brown eyes of his.

Wonshik shakes his head to dispel the state he was thrown into and meets Hakyeon's eyes. Surprised by the eye contact, Hakyeon jumps back a few good feet. "Sorry," Wonshik mutters.

"It's okay," Hakyeon says, lowering himself shakily into the armchair again.

Wonshik sighs. "I don't know, Hakyeon," he says, picking at a loose thread on the couch's arm.

"Don't know what?" Hakyeon presses, folding his knees up to his chest.

"About Taekwoon. I mean I really like him, I guess, but—"

"It's obvious you more than just like him," Hakyeon cuts in with that very Hakyeon-esque sharp whiny voice. "You can't just guess that you like him, Wonshik. You know you like him. It's written all over your face."

Hakyeon has always known himself to be the kind who always speaks his mind. Since he was little, he's always thought, Why bother with pretense and lies? Just say what you mean. But in this situation… well, he'll speak the truth, but he can't bring himself to speak his mind. Not now. Not to Wonshik, who is looking at Hakyeon with the most utterly speechless expression, pink lips slightly parted, soft eyebrows knotted tight beneath his dark brown fringe shrouding even darker brown eyes, and—Hakyeon stops himself. Oh, there's no way he could confess to Wonshik now. Not with Taekwoon around. He wouldn't even have a blink of a chance competing against Jung Taekwoon for Wonshik.

But against his better judgment, Hakyeon opens his mouth to speak his mind. "Wonshik, I—" he begins, and Wonshik pulls his face out of the crook of his elbow where he'd buried it trying to hide his embarrassment at Hakyeon pointing out that he wears his emotions all over his sleeve, face, everywhere. "Wonshik, I think I—I like—"

As if on cue, the bathroom door swings open and Taekwoon pokes his head of wet black hair out. Hakyeon claps a hand over his mouth and turns the brightest red. "Wonshik," Taekwoon calls. "Can I borrow some clothes?"

"Of course," Wonshik chirps, completely disregarding Hakyeon, hopping up from the couch and padding into his room. He snags a pair of sweatpants and a crew neck pullover he thinks Taekwoon might like (maybe) and goes to knock on the door of the bathroom to pass the garments to Taekwoon. Wonshik dresses himself too and goes back to the living room to wait for Taekwoon to come out. Hakyeon's already gone when Wonshik returns; Wonshik assumes he's gone to his room to get ready for a class.

Wonshik is passively wondering about what Hakyeon was going to say when Taekwoon steps out of the bathroom, pulling on the hem of Wonshik's pullover. Taekwoon looks up through his wet hair, and Wonshik's heart skips a beat. Wonshik thought that sweater looked nice on himself, but on Taekwoon… "Ready when you are," Wonshik squeaks.

It takes the two of them a few minutes to collect themselves up and put on shoes and parkas, but soon they're stepping out of Wonshik's apartment, Wonshik hastily stuffing a box of cigarettes and a lighter into his jacket pocket, and into the bitterly cold morning air. The snow on the railing of the landing outside Wonshik's door is frozen and sparkling in the muted sunlight, and beyond that, almost everything is covered in at least four inches of snow. "Wow," Taekwoon breathes in his feather-soft voice.

"Beautiful, isn't it," Wonshik smiles, eyeing the road. It looks fairly clear—the snow plow has probably already come by. Taekwoon nods, hefting the snow chains in his arms. He'd insisted on Wonshik letting him carry them, and Wonshik couldn't say no.

They start down the steps slowly since they're covered in ice, and Wonshik hangs onto Taekwoon's shoulders, following him down, making sure he doesn't slip. He can feel Taekwoon heave a sigh just before they reach the bottom of the stairs. It's a short walk back to the art school, even though it takes just slightly longer due to the hazardous weather, and soon Wonshik and Taekwoon arrive at the school of music's campus.

"I'm parked over by the performance hall," Taekwoon says, pointing to the best of his ability in the direction of the performance hall. Wonshik nods, and they set off in that direction together, shoulder to shoulder and just barely touching.