It is silent in the apartment. It is dark too, and as I lie here staring up at my now grey-looking ceiling, all I can hear is the faint sounds of the city at night, somewhere far, far away outside my window - and the slow, rhythmic breaths from the tall, blonde Chinese lying next to me. I had strategically lied down on the left side, though I always slept on the right side, so that I would be the one covering the stains – which I hope he had missed. And even if he had seen them, he is a boy too, and I’m sure he would have understood. I might have dared to change the sheets again if he had though. But I found myself lying here, wide awake, feeling the buzz of the alcohol slowly leave my body, while I’m too afraid to fall asleep. My heart rate has fallen back to normal again, so for the billionth time tonight I let my head fall to my side and I stare at him. Right now all I can see is the contours of him under the duvet, his shoulders as the slowly rise and fall with his breaths, and the back of his head with his white, soft, tempting hair. Chanyeol had left out this part in his explanation. You don’t know you’re in love until you realise, but when you do it ing hits you hard. Just a short while ago I had thought nothing more of him than him being my friend, and now I couldn’t stop fantasising about sliding closer and wrap my arms around his body – to feel the warmth of him, being so close to me, to feel his scent in my nose with every inhalation and exhalation, to hear his heart under my cheek and to feel his fingers braided with mine. And this is exactly why I’m afraid of falling asleep. What exactly are the odds of that happening? They’re very slim, aren’t they? It’s not like I’ve had much time to think about it, and everything is still so new and fresh that whatever I may come up with will still be confusing as hell. But no matter what happens later, I can’t afford to fall asleep now, because I cannot afford missing out on this - the opportunity to observe him, to learn about his sleeping habits, to be calmed by his sounds, to feel him close to me, to feel his scent, and to capture his beauty in my mind as a memory for a rainy day. I lied there, willing him to turn around, but all I ever got was his shoulder continuously moving up and down rhythmically. I straighten my head so I can stare at the ceiling again, and sigh. I’m not sure how much time has passed since we arrived at my apartment, but it must have been hours, because I can hardly feel the effect of the alcohol anymore. It was weird though, how we didn’t even exchange a word, and yet Luhan knew exactly what I wished for. Or, I’m not so sure he knew I wished for it, but he sort of just automatically removed his coat – hung it up in the improvised hallway – left his shoes on the floor, pulled off his trousers and went over to the bed. I didn’t even say a word, and I was careful not to directly watch him, but mimicked his actions and before long we were lying side by side, ready to fall asleep. Except I never fell asleep. Being nervous about having him next to me, and thinking he’d notice I wasn’t even closing my eyes, I had turned to face the wall. Not long after I heard him move, and I could feel his breath against my shoulders as he whispered “Are you asleep yet?” – but I never responded, I just focused on breathing steadily, making it appear like I was in deep slumber. After a while I heard his breath slow down and become more even, and when I heard him move around in his sleep I finally dared to turn around again. And that’s how it’s been ever since, with the occasional breaks where I turn my head so I can watch him and pray he’ll turn around and hope so hard my heart begins to beat faster at the thought and then having to look away to calm myself down again. When I finally hear him stir in his sleep I can hardly contain my excitement, but I don’t dare to move until he has settled again. Slowly, only moving my eyes to the side, I observe how he is positioned, before I as silently as I can possibly manage lift myself up a little and turn my whole body sideways, facing him, and lie back down. With the darkness of the night, combined with the pale light from the moon, the sight of him sets my lips and lungs on fire. His skin looks even paler, and his hair is positively silver, glowing on the top of his head. His eyelashes flutter a little as a small noise escapes from your dream, through your throat, and I hold my breath in sheer mesmerisation. My lips are burning with the intense desire to kiss him; his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids, his lips, his neck, what little I can see of his chest and arms, and more or less any other part of him I can imagine in the span of 15 seconds, and my lungs are aching to breathe into his mouth as I press myself against him and feel his arms wrap themselves around me in mutual desire – but luckily I am man enough to realise that this probably won’t happen, and that is why the fantasies stop here. Before lust takes over and decides to fill my briefs, I focus on just memorising him again. The desire to reach out my hand and touch him – just let my fingers slide across his skin, letting me memorise his touch and warmth and crinkle and unevenness – strike me so hard it almost becomes unbearable. But I force my body to be as heavy as stone, not allowing for any more room than breathing and blinking, I allow myself to lie perfectly still and drink in the sight of him. Even when he is as lifeless as when he is sleeping I find him to be so intoxicating I’m afraid I’ll get drunk again – so when I’m finally confident that I have memorised him entirely, when I know all that I can allow myself to know of him, I close my eyes and let darkness surround me, drifting off while only hoping he will still be there when I wake up again.

---

Never having been the kind to wake up early on his own, Luhan sluggishly sits up in his bed and looks around disoriented. At first he doesn’t really understand where he is, but then he recognises the small apartment with the round kitchen table and the huge window and he turns to his right, only to discover his friend sleeping adorably next to him. Groggily he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and gets up to find his trousers. The second he leaves the bed, the sleeping ginger starts moving around, whispering something like “No, I need my flag,” and “I’m so cold”. He chuckled to himself and got dressed while wondering what the child looking boy was dreaming about. He hadn’t really thought he’d find himself here again, he had most definitely tried not to, but it had proven quite difficult to resist. Finding his way to the bathroom he filled the sink with water and soap, found a cloth, soaked it and cleaned himself up a little. He took his sweet time, knowing the slightly older boy would probably be sleeping for a while longer, but when he finally entered the apartment again he felt a little lost. “Should I leave,” he questioned himself as his eyes scanned over his slightly familiar surroundings, finally landing on the bookshelves in the corner. He quickly picked out a small children’s book among all the boring architecture books, went back to the other side of the bed and lied down. It was a worn out, old book about a bunny who lost his ball and had to visit his friends all over the city to find it again. It was also in Korean, and despite being good at talking, understanding and writing, his reading was still a little slow – and though he was way beyond these sort of books, they were still interesting to him; here and there he could pick up new words and terms, and his reading pace would speed up slightly as he progressed. However, the book was quickly finished – as expected, and he folded it together and placed it on the bed between him and the sleeping one before he got up and decided to scour the kitchen for whatever he could find. To his luck, Minseok had just been out grocery shopping, and the cabinets, fridge and freezer was filled with delicious food, and Luhan decided to prepare a delicious meal for them. In the middle of boiling rice, frying kimchi pancakes and boiling eggs he heard movements from the bed behind him, but before he got to greet good morning, Minseok mumbled half asleep still;
“Yoojae? Go back to sleep, oppa is tired. I’ll read for you later, okay?” Luhan felt his blood freeze, as if he had intruded on something and he knew he wasn’t supposed to be there, and he prayed the silence meant Minseok fell asleep again. But alas.
“Oh,” he hear behind him, and he turned around. Minseok was sitting in the bed, duvet wrapped around him tightly, eyes only half open, staring at the book in his bed.
“How did this get here,” he questioned sleepily and turned his head only to face the solution to his riddle.
“Did you..? This book... Was it..?” As Luhan was about to respond, Minseok’s face changed, and Luhan was faced with an expression he never thought he’d see – least of all on Minseok.
“Out,” he said. “Get out. RIGHT NOW!” His voice was ice cold, but his eyes were burning with anger, and Luhan felt his heart sink through the bottom of his shoes.
“GET OUT RIGHT THIS INSTANT,” he screamed and Luhan didn’t even realise he had reacted until he found himself storming down the stairs, shoes and coat in hands, and he didn’t stop until he reached the first floor. He felt sick, he was dizzy and nauseous, and he decided he needed to sit down for a while before he could go anywhere. The fresh air felt good, but his insides were aching painfully and for some reason he felt like crying – downright sobbing like a spoiled brat, yet he had no idea why. Was it because of Minseok’s expression? …And had he just called himself ‘oppa’? The who was this Yoojae? He couldn’t decide what he wanted to know more, the reason for his strong reaction or the answer to his questions about Minseok and his reaction to the book. He put his shoes and coat on, and as he got up he felt the tears welling over in his eyes. Oh, how stupid he felt – crying like a child, not even knowing the reason why. He wiped his cheeks and began moving down the hill, more tears streaming down.
“, LUHAN, I AM SO SORRY!” He heard footsteps rapidly approaching behind him as Minseok ran after him, but not wanting to show his face like this he sped up – however he didn’t get far as the tears were blinding him, and before he could escape he felt Minseok’s hand get a hold of his wrist, stopping him from moving forth, and instead turning him to face the other. He couldn’t see Minseok’s face, partly because of the tears and partly because he was trying to hide his own face in his hands, but all attempts of being somewhat brave or manly fell to pieces as he felt Minseok’s arms wrap around his neck and pull him down into a hug – and he realised he hadn’t even put a shirt on before running after him.
Luhan felt himself unravel on the inside and collapsed into the ginger, half- boys embrace and let himself sob uncontrollably, and he felt Minseok’s slender hands through his hair and rub comfortably over his back as he was hugged tighter, and he wrapped his own arms around his friend, pulling them closer – scared he’d be unable to stand on his own. All the while the older boy kept cooing “I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry. Luhan, I’m really so sorry. You have no idea. Please forgive me. I am so sorry,” over and over again in his ear, clearly struggling with a lump in his own throat. Slowly, Luhan’s sobbing slowed down, and he managed to squeak “I’m so sorry Minseokie, I’m not really sure why I’m crying,” to which Minseok responded with shushing him and hugging him tighter.
“I’m sorry, Luhanie,” he finally managed to respond.
“Please come back inside, please come back with me, I didn’t mean to get angry – I was tired and confused and I didn’t understand and then there was that… book, and memories-…”
“I won’t touch it again, I promise, I-…”
“No, please, you can touch it all you want, it’s not a problem. I just… forgot that I had it. Please, please come back inside, please stay, please don’t be mad. Please forgive me. I was an idiot, I didn’t mean to, I won’t let it happen again, I’m so sorry. Come inside again, okay?” Luhan couldn’t muster much of an answer, so instead he slowly nodded his head in agreement while he wiped his tears away, and felt Minseok grab his hand and drag him with him inside again, back up to the apartment. The second they entered however they were met by the awful stinging in their noses you usually experience when you enter a room where you’ve left food to turn to ashes on the stove. Minseok threw himself over the kitchen and managed to rip the pan off the stove with the speed of light, placed it in the sink and the water, before running over and just barely save the rice – only a little bit at the bottom got burnt. Worried the food would stick, he immediately began scrubbing the pan while Luhan stirred the rice in the pot on the table, waiting for it to cool down. He couldn’t help but stare at the boy while he desperately cleaned the black clay out of the pan, and Luhan found himself fascinated with the way his muscles moved around across his back with every precise, harsh movement, and it wasn’t until after he had stared for a while he realised what was wrong. He grabbed the first he could find, walked over and without warning pulled a sweater over the surprisingly muscly boy’s head, and went back to the rice.
“Ah, eh, thank you,” his disoriented best friend replied before finishing cleaning off the pan.
“Uhm,” he said and turned to hesitantly face Luhan.
“I think I’ll… Just, uhm… Do you mind if I just go clean up?”
“No, not at all,” Luhan mumbled and made sure to focus on the rice.
“Okay. Good. Alright then,” the mood was weird and awkward and stressed but Luhan decided to stay and wait to see if they could try and fix this. The second the ginger boy was out of sight Luhan ran over to the bed, grabbed the book and placed it back in its spot in the shelf, before he walked back to the stove, grabbed the pan and continued to make kimchi pancakes. He’d luckily gotten the eggs off the stove before he’d left, so at least they were alright. When Minseok finally appeared back in the room, his chest was bare again and exposed to Luhan in all its glory – and Luhan had to turn around in order not to stare. No wonder he felt safe when Minseok hugged him, the boy was ripped like a Greek god. Or, at least he was in comparison to Luhan himself. He shook his head and returned his focus to cutting vegetables so he could quickly fry them slightly and serve the breakfast. A little hesitant and nervous, Minseok appeared by his side and grabbed some plates and cutlery and set the table nicely, placing them in the chairs next to each other – rather than the usual opposite spots, and Luhan felt himself relax a little as he sat down next to his best friend, feeling hungry, and ready to eat. They ate in silence, but both noticed the mood slowly increasing as the food was decreasing, and when they finished the ginger felt brave enough to push the plate away with a smile.
“Wow, that was amazingly delicious! I don’t know how you do it, but you are wonderful,” he praised and beamed at the Chinese. Luhan weakly returned the smile, feeling somewhat relieved that things were getting better this quickly – despite being annoyed that they hadn’t yet talked about it. Together they put away the food and did the dished, cleaned off the table and the counter, dried off the plates and cutleries and put them back in their cabinets before they went over to the bed again. Luhan registered that Minseok seemed to nervously look for the book with his eyes, but fell back to ease when he realised it was back in the shelf, and the both flopped down on their backs, once again lying side by side.

“I…” The words stopped and that single letter was left hanging in the air. Luhan didn’t dare to push anything, afraid he’d make something bad even worse. His face was sore from the crying and he felt a bit tired again, so just lying like this felt nice too.
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” he finally said.
“And I’m not sure if I want to. I’ve never told anyone. And I’ve never wanted to. But I don’t know what else to do. It’s difficult, complicate, painful, frustrating and tiring…” Luhan let the words sink in slowly and properly, making sure he fully understood the whole meaning of all of them.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” he replied silently.
“I snapped at you,” Minseok reasoned.
“I threw you out, completely without warning – you were even making us breakfast! I was an idiot and you deserve something in return!”
“How about I even it out,” Luhan asked.
“What do you mean?” Instead of replying, he let the words sink in with the other.
“…How?”
“Instead of you telling me something, I tell you something.” He felt his heart beat hard and uncomfortably in his chest.
“…Okay?” Minseok didn’t sound like he was too excited about the idea, but he was probably happy to try anything to avoid having to explain himself and spill his secret.
“You don’t have to be angry for being an idiot and yelling at me,” Luhan finally said – his voice a little shaky.
“Because I’ve lied to you.”
The silence was choking the both of them.
“Oh.”
“About something important.”
“Oh.”
“I did it-…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.”
“No, yes, I do. I want to, and I need to. I don’t think I’ll ever get a better opportunity than right now. I want to explain now, so that when I correct my lie – and I really want you to know the truth somehow, but I haven’t found a way yet – you may be able to understand a little more before you get angry.” Minseok kept silent for a while, thinking about this information.
“How will I know when this applis?”
“I think it applies to everything.”
“Oh.”
“I didn’t lie to hurt you, or because I didn’t trust you. I lied because I needed you to stay away so you wouldn’t find out more than what I could let on even if I didn’t lie – so that you wouldn’t get mixed up in something you have nothing to do with. I know that if I hadn’t lied you would have dug a little further and found more answers and questions and problems, and first of all I wouldn’t know how to handle that or explain them all, but I also didn’t want to – both because it would be too much for me to tell to anyone, like you I’ve never spoken about this, but also because I didn’t want you to be involved.”
“Hmmm…”
“You still became a little bit involved though.”
“I did?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t mean to. I think.”
“Neither did I.”
“Does this have to do with your rent?”
“In a way. Yes.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“Yes.”
“…Is it serious?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Can I ask what sort of business you’re dealing with?”
“…Family. It’s family business.”
“Oh.”
“Oh.”
And then they stayed like that, lying side by side, until Luhan felt the world close around him in a thick, black blanket, and he fell asleep.