Donghae still remembers the exact moment he regretted going to that sleazy club with his friends that night.

  It’s not when he locked eyes with the mysterious coat checker at the entrance and decided he was gorgeous. It’s not when he insisted on buying a third drink when he was clearly very tipsy already. It’s not when he staggered back towards the entrance and basically the hell out of the coat checker’s lips. It’s not when he stripped the stranger’s godly body of the annoying pieces of he called clothes because they were getting in the way of Donghae’s hormones. It’s not when the two of them fell onto a pile of coats and ed right then and there. It’s not when he came and left a bit of his release on the unsuspecting guests’ coats. It’s not when he giggled when the skinny but well-sculpted man his earlobe and throatily informed him that he apparently ‘performed better on rough surfaces’.

  It’s when the coat check guy asked for his number and he was stupid enough (or drunk enough; nevertheless, same difference) to give him his real one.

  For two weeks since their encounter, Donghae keeps getting text messages, most of which are inexplicably filthy (“I’m getting off right now imagining your mouth on my .”), some in which he doesn’t even try (“Hey , I miss your .”) and a few select ones in which he actually seems to be pretty decent (“Your name’s Donghae, right? Mine’s Eunhyuk.”).

  It dawns on Donghae that he’s only now learning his name. Eunhyuk. Donghae doesn’t like it. It sounds weird. He tries saying it out loud, just to see how it would sound rolling off his tongue.

  “Eunhyuk,” it feels weird coming out of his lips. He tries again, “Eunhyuk. Eunhyuk. Euuunhyuk. Eunhyuuuk? Eunhyuk.”

  “Yes?”

  As Donghae opens the door to his apartment, he drops his keys with a loud exclaim of “Holy !” at the sight of the coat check guy from the club lounging ever so casually in his living room, a glass of red wine in his hand as he smugly crosses his legs.

  “What the are you doing here? How the hell did you even get in? More importantly, how in the name of do you even know where I live?” He shoots frantic question after frantic question, and the arrogant bastard only smirks before elegantly taking a sip of his (technically it’s Donghae’s) wine.

  “I have my ways,” Eunhyuk sets the glass on the table beside him as Donghae lifts one eyebrow at him. “You have a real dirty mouth on you, you know that? I like it.”

  Donghae glares at him, “Get out.”

  “But I like it here,” he stands up and Donghae backs away, alarmed by the lusty glint in Eunhyuk’s eyes. “You’ve been ignoring my texts. Did I do something to upset you?”

  “Look, we barely know each other,” he points out, avoiding his gaze. “That one night was a horrible, drunken mistake. I don’t usually drink that much, actually.”

  Eunhyuk ignores him as he pins the unsuspecting man against the wall, one hand on the wall beside his face and the other squeezing the delightful curve of Donghae’s hip. “So where’s the bedroom here?”

  The bastard suddenly rolls his hips against Donghae’s, as if to let him know that there’s something already quite hard and throbbing inside his skinny jeans, and it takes Donghae everything and a little more not to rip his clothes off like a feral animal and pounce on his honey abs (as he’s seen before from their first encounter). Donghae shuts his eyes in a (pointless) attempt to control his hormones. “As if I’d ever let you anywhere near my bedroom,” he manages to croak.

  A soft scoff comes out of Eunhyuk’s lips as he begins to ravish Donghae’s magnificent neck, earning pleasing moans from the younger man. It doesn’t take long for Donghae to decide, “ it” and begin to strip Eunhyuk of his clothes, starting with his dreadfully annoying coat that covers his goddamn beautiful arms.

  “You said you perform better on hard surfaces, yes?” Donghae mumbles against his puffy lips.

  On Eunhyuk’s face appears a confused expression, but he answers anyway, “Yeah?”

  “Well,” he breathes heavily against the other’s ear as he starts to work on Eunhyuk’s belt buckle, “the floor seems pretty hard to me.”

  Eunhyuk smirks as he lets his jeans drop to his ankles, courtesy of Donghae. “Evidently, that’s not the only thing that’s hard.”

  “I know,” Donghae bites Eunhyuk’s lower lip and tugs on it. “I can feel it on my thigh.”

  After they express their sinful and carnal desires (in more ways than one) on Donghae’s carpeted floor, they lie next to each other, chests heaving up and down as they catch their breath. No words are shared between them until Donghae decides to get up and put his clothes back on, which terribly disappoints Eunhyuk.

  “Well, I’m assuming you got what you came for,” he says as he throws Eunhyuk’s pants at his bewildered face. “Now get the hell out of my house.”

  After their unplanned tryst at his apartment, Eunhyuk stops pestering Donghae with his incessant text messages, and though he hates to admit it, Donghae actually misses seeing his stupid number (he’s never bothered to save it on his phone—though he’d always know if it’s him) light up the screen of his phone.

  But then one day, one of his co-workers makes an off-handed remark about how nice his new coat looks. This strikes Donghae as a little odd, as he doesn’t remember buying a new coat, and only when he checks in the mirror does he realize that said coat doesn’t even belong to him.

  He’s wearing Eunhyuk’s coat.

  Although the more probable explanation is that their clothes got mixed up on the floor and they were too preoccupied to notice, Donghae swears that somehow, somehow, that sneaky bastard planned this.

  Donghae doesn’t know what comes over him, but at that moment, he marches out of the men’s room and into his boss’s office where he asks for permission to leave early because he’s not feeling very well. Fortunately, Donghae has always been a responsible, reliable worker (and his boss may have the tiniest bit of a crush on him), so he’s allowed the day off; once he gets in his car, he drives in the same direction he went almost a month ago.

  When he reaches the club, he notices it looks different from when he first went there. The place seems brighter and quieter and doesn’t appear all that sleazy as Donghae remembers it. But imagine his disappointment when he goes inside the entrance and finds a different man offering to take his (rather, Eunhyuk’s) coat.

  “Where’s Eunhyuk?” Donghae asks him.

  “He only works night shifts,” he reveals.

  Donghae considers waiting there until nightfall for Eunhyuk to come into work, but then he reminds himself that he’s not that pathetic.

  “By any chance, do you have any idea where he lives?”

  No, he’s a whole different kind of pathetic.

  Donghae’s jaw drops in awe as he finds himself driving up to an inexplicably huge, luxury house and for a split second, he wonders if he’s at the right address.

  When asked for identification through a speaker by the gate, he stumbles on his words and somehow ends up mustering out that he’s an acquaintance of Eunhyuk (technically, he’s more of a -buddy, but Donghae wants to make a clean first impression).

  “Eunhyuk?” the voice asks, sounding rather confused.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you referring to Hyukjae?”

  “Um…sure?”

  And just like that, the gates open like magic and Donghae feels like an intruder as he enters their grounds. Eunhyuk’s never told him about this particular detail about him, and Donghae can understand why, since they’ve only met twice, and both times, they did nothing but . If anything, the only things Donghae knows about him is his name and the fact that he’s apparently filthy ing rich.

  At the door, he’s greeted by a very poised couple dressed in classy threads, making Donghae feel like a hobo in his trashy attire (then again, he is wearing Eunhyuk’s coat). What Donghae doesn’t expect though is the unusually warm welcome he receives.

  “Come in, come in,” the woman tells him, grinning, “Hyukjae has told us all about you.”

  “He…has?” Donghae’s head is spinning with questions. Who is this Hyukjae exactly? Donghae has never heard of him until now, but apparently, Hyukjae, whoever he may be, knows all about him.

  “Yes, all he does is regale us and the house staff about his precious Donghae,” the man adds as he pats the young man on the back. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

  “…Thank you?” as he begins to put the pieces together, the door opens and the whole reason Donghae came here finally shows up.

  “I’m ho—” Eunhyuk’s words come to an abrupt stop as his brain attempts to take in what he’s seeing in front of him, other than the creepy grins on both of his parents’ faces. “Donghae?”

  “That’s right, son,” his father is the one to reply, and frankly, Donghae feels relieved for that because he really has no idea what to tell Eunhyuk at this point. “We weren’t expecting him here; the least you could have done was give us a heads-up.”

  “Oh, well,” Eunhyuk clears his throat, ridding his face of all traces of confusion as he returns to the suave, haughty man Donghae is most familiar with. “You know me, I like to keep you guys on your toes,” he dips (Donghae will forever blame himself for choosing today of all days not to wear shoelifts) and kisses Donghae’s cheek like it’s the most normal thing in the world, “Isn’t that right, darling?”

  Donghae positively blushes, but at what, the term of endearment or the lingering kiss left on his cheek, he can’t tell. “Um…”

  “Don’t mind him,” Eunhyuk grins and puts an arm around the other’s waist, “he just likes to play coy sometimes. He gets very shy when talking about our relationship.”

  “Relationship?” Donghae manages to sputter.

  “See?” he chuckles and presses another kiss, this time on the side of Donghae’s head. “He’s adorable.”

  At this point, Donghae’s become incapable of doing anything other than blush and babble, making him look like a complete idiot. But fortunately for him, neither of Eunhyuk's parents care as they spend the next few minutes fawning over him and how handsome and charming he is apparently. Eunhyuk has his arm around him the entire time, and that most certainly didn’t help Donghae at all. When Eunhyuk’s parents finally tire of complimenting him (Donghae doesn’t find this offending at all; in fact, he finds it quite relieving), they insist that Eunhyuk take his ‘sweetheart’ on a tour of the house, and Donghae wholeheartedly agrees, mostly because he hasn’t the slightest idea how to act around Eunhyuk’s family.

  “So,” Donghae is the first to break the awkward silence they fall in as they begin the house tour (which neither of them really seem to be interested in). “I didn’t realize you have a boyfriend.”

  Eunhyuk scoffs, “I don’t.”

  “Then what was all that about?” his brows furrow together as he finally turns his head to meet his eyes.

  “My parents don’t like seeing me lonely,” he shrugs casually, “it was for their sake.”

  “Oh.” Donghae doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he chooses to shut up, and inevitably this leads to yet another uncomfortable silence between the two. And if there’s anything that Donghae hates, it’s awkward silences. “So, who’s Hyukjae?”

  “That’s me,” he admits, his blank expression never faltering even once. “I’ve always kind of hated that name, so I came up with Eunhyuk a few years ago and everybody just started calling me that and, well, it stuck.”

  Hyukjae. Donghae likes it. It sounds nice. Better than Eunhyuk. Much better. From now on, Donghae decides, he’s going to start calling him that.

  “I think Hyukjae’s a nice name.” He blurts out just for the sake of saying something.

  “Why, Donghae,” Hyukjae smiles, and it occurs to Donghae that it’s the first time he’s actually seen a genuine smile on him. Gummy smiles normally don’t appeal to Donghae, but he’s seriously starting to consider the one across Hyukjae’s lips an exception. “You just paid me a compliment. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Oh, shut up,” he rolls his eyes, “don’t expect to get another one from me anytime soon. By the way, I don’t appreciate you failing to mention that you’re stinking rich. When were you going to share that little tidbit with me?”

  “To be honest, I never thought it’d come up,” he says. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever told you anything before.”

  “Tell me this then,” he starts. “If you’re so rich, then why do you work as a coat checker?”

  “Keeps me preoccupied,” he answers honestly. “It gets pretty boring around here. And if you think about it, if I’d never taken the job, we would’ve never met.”

  “That actually sounds pretty nice.” Donghae fails to notice the way Hyukjae’s face falls at his remark.

  “You’re…” Hyukjae scratches at his head for an appropriate term, “You’re a big .”

  Donghae barks out a sarcastic laugh, “I’ve been called worse before.”

  Hyukjae seems to have a thing for pinning Donghae up against walls, as he does exactly this to him yet again, and Donghae doesn’t really seem as surprised as he had been the first time. “You want the truth?” he asks, hungrily pressing his plump lips against Donghae’s ear.

  “A-about what?” Donghae curses his knees for being so weak, especially around Hyukjae.

  “My parents wanted to set me up with some spoiled, high-class , so I lied and said I was seeing someone. They asked me about her, and I told them it was a he and without even realizing it, I found myself talking about you.” He recounts in detail, keeping Donghae close as he leads him into the nearest room he could find—which just happens to be his father’s den.

  “Why, Hyukjae,” a smirk finds it way across Donghae’s swollen lips as he cups either side of Hyukjae’s face. “Do you like me?”

  “If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t have ed you twice on separate occasions.” He dips down and lightly bites down on Donghae’s bare neck, making the younger man moan. “I normally don’t stick around that long.”

  “Does that make me special then?” he asks, his fingers tangling themselves in Hyukjae’s hair.

  “Whatever floats your boat,” Hyukjae chuckles slightly against his skin, and Donghae moans louder at the vibrations he makes.

  And right there and then, in Hyukjae’s father’s den in the middle of the afternoon, Donghae receives the best he’s ever had his entire life.

  After a painfully awkward dinner where Donghae pretends to be Hyukjae’s sweet and loving boyfriend (because Hyukjae’s s don’t come free apparently), the two reside in Hyukjae’s ridiculously large bedroom and Donghae only lasts a minute and a half (Hyukjae counted) until he starts making fun of him again.

  “You’re a grown man living with his parents.” He points out as Hyukjae leans on the headboard and props his legs over Donghae’s lap. “I gotta say, that’s pretty pathetic, even for you.”

  “I agree,” Hyukjae’s answer certainly isn’t one Donghae is expecting. “I would’ve moved out a long time ago if I had found a decent place to live in. But so far, zilch. I’m in no hurry to leave anyway; I’m pretty much treated like a prince around here.”

  “Just out of curiosity,” Donghae doesn’t even realize that he’s playing with the hem of Hyukjae’s jeans, “what sort of place are you looking for exactly?”

  “I don’t know,” he says. “Your place seemed pretty nice.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Donghae immediately tosses him a dirty glare. “I wouldn’t let you move in with me even if we were married with three kids.”

  “Wow, talking about marriage already?” Hyukjae teases with a smirk. “I was going to suggest dating first.”

  “Like I would ever be caught dating the likes of you,” he jeers, haughtily putting his nose in the air.

  “Now, now,” Hyukjae’s magical fingers trace the shell of Donghae’s ear, sending chills down his spine with the slightest touch. “What’s so wrong about dating me?”

  “We’ve had like, three times. Two and a half times, even.” He deadpans, “That hardly counts for anything.”

  “Well, hasn’t anybody ever told you that can lead to things like dating?” The older of the two scoots closer to attach his lips to Donghae’s delectable jawline.

  “I just realized something,” Donghae forces himself to pull away from him, “You treat people like condoms.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You use them once, fill them up and then discard them.” He explains. “Just like condoms.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t see you as a .” He offers, but of course, Donghae doesn’t buy any of it.

  “Gee, how romantic,” he quips drolly. “Nice try. But I still wouldn’t be caught dead dating you.”

  “Well, darling, you sure know how to hurt a guy.” Hyukjae dramatically pounds his chest as he drones on and on about how Donghae has ‘wounded him inside’ and Donghae has never wanted to hit the living crap out of someone as much as he does right now. “The scars you’ve left on my heart will never heal, they will stay there until my heart burns out and turns into du—is that my coat?”

  Donghae looks down at the coat over his shoulders and finally remembers why he went to look for him in the first place. “Here, you can have it back,” he hastily takes it off and throws it onto Hyukjae’s lap. “I can’t stand the piece of ; it smells just like you.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” Donghae swears that Hyukjae almost looks adorable when he pulls his puppy-eyes look on. “I didn’t ask for it back. Just keep it; I like it on you.”

  “I don’t want it,” Donghae frowns, “I don’t want to smell like you.”

  “Then why did you keep the damn thing on the entire day?” he asks, his voice rising (which Donghae actually finds quite hot).

  “I don’t know,” Donghae’s voice also rises to quite a volume, “what I do know is that I went through a load of trouble to give it back to you, and now that I have, I can leave now.”

  “Well then, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” He mutters as Donghae pushes Hyukjae’s legs off his lap and marches his way across the room, only stopping a few inches from the door. Slowly, he turns around and looks at Hyukjae expectantly, “Well? Aren’t you at least going to walk me out?”

  “Why should I?”

  “Why shouldn’t you?”

  “That’s something a boyfriend would do.” He points out, a smirk tugging on his lips as he sees a fire flicker in Donghae’s eyes. “As you so kindly pointed out, I am not your boyfriend.”

  Donghae is too exhausted to retort, so he settles with one last roll of the eyes before slamming the door behind him. “Well played, Hyukjae,” he mutters under his breath, “well played.”

  When Donghae goes out on a blind date a few days later, he half-expects to see Hyukjae posing as the coat checker at the restaurant in a devious plan to ruin his date, but he soon realizes that he’s letting his imagination run too freely when they arrive at the restaurant and there’s no sign of Hyukjae anywhere.

  Donghae can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

  He and Hyukjae hadn’t talked ever since Donghae returned his coat to him; Donghae would always foolishly hope that Hyukjae would call or at least text and say something that would annoy him to the ends of hell, but no such thing has happened. This must have had a greater effect on Donghae than he realized, as his co-workers have begun to worry about him showing signs of depression, which is exactly why they set him up on a date, to ‘fill the empty void in his life with love’.

  But Donghae doesn’t want love. He wants Hyukjae.

  “The food is excellent here, but the service is horrible.” His date—his name is Siwon something, Donghae doesn’t really bother to remember his name—says as he calls a waiter to their table.

  “You called, sir?”

  Donghae looks up with wide eyes, recognizing that annoyingly familiar voice. He doesn’t know why he’s even surprised to see Hyukjae dressed like one of the waiters—it’s such a typical Hyukjae thing to do. Donghae manages to pick his jaw up before Siwon can notice his expression, but he appears to be too busy placing his order for him (which Donghae absolutely hates; if there’s anything that’s going down his throat, he would want to be the one to choose it, not anybody else) to pay any attention to him.

  As they wait for their food to arrive, Donghae sits on edge waiting for Hyukjae to make his move. He doesn’t want to be caught off-guard when he does, so he mentally prepares himself for when the time comes while pretending to listen to Siwon talk about himself (if there’s anyone who can match Napoleon’s narcissism, it’d be this guy).

  Yet when the moment finally arrives, Donghae didn’t anticipate it at all.

  It all happened in a flash really. Hyukjae returned to their table, carrying only one plate of food in his hand. He presented himself to the couple, a mischievous grin on his face before hacking loudly and spitting right in Siwon’s food. Things escalated rather quickly; after a brief but heated argument (Donghae was too busy checking out Hyukjae’s biceps in the waiter uniform to listen to either of them), punches were thrown and Donghae almost didn't notice that Hyukjae’s nose was bleeding because he was too busy enjoying the fact that two hot guys (granted, Siwon was a big , but at least he was hot) were fighting over him.

  Security soon gets involved and breaks the two up, much to Donghae’s dismay as things were just getting good. Somehow, Hyukjae manages to convince everyone that it’s all Siwon’s fault and gets him thrown out. On the plus side, Donghae gets his meal on the house as an apology from the manager for all the inconvenience. As he looks up from his food to sting Hyukjae with a mean-spirited comment (it’s sort of become his way of showing affection), he realizes that the man has fled.

  Now sitting alone in a table for two, Donghae feels incredibly stupid, not to mention embarrassed. He makes up his mind to get a doggy bag and leave as soon as possible to escape the judging looks from other people, but as luck may have it, that’s when Hyukjae decides to show up.

  “Why the long face, darling?” Hyukjae takes the empty seat across him, looking at him as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

  He has gotten out of his waiter uniform and into a sharp, crisp suit which heavily accentuates his toned body. Donghae feels like he got a tiny just from looking at him.

  “Put your tongue back in your mouth, dear,” he says, “you don’t want people to stare, do you?”

  Donghae mumbles out a form of alien language mainly composed of incoherent sounds and grunts before finally regaining his senses. “Is your nose okay?”

  “Oh, that?” Hyukjae scoffs loudly. “The bastard barely even touched it. Don’t wor—wait a minute. Holy crap, you’re worried about me.”

  Donghae arches one eyebrow at him, “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No, no, do continue,” he insists. “I like this side of you.”

  “Well, don’t get too attached,” he warns. “This side of me only comes out once in a blue moon.”

  “I’m glad I’m here to witness such a rare event then.” He shoots him another one of his gummy smiles, which Donghae has forgotten how much he loves.

  The next few minutes into dinner go by dreadfully, making Hyukjae realize that neither of them really belongs in a place this fancy.

  “You hate it here, don’t you?” he asks, gently nudging the younger boy’s foot under the table to catch his attention.

  “I don’t know what you—”

  “Bull,” Hyukjae sees through him right away, “Come on, let’s go.”

  Donghae looks at the outstretched hand towards him with raised eyebrows. “You’re not going to take me to the bathroom for a quickie, are you?”

  “No,” Hyukjae almost laughs at the prospect. “I’m taking you away from this craphole.”

  “You look like Rudolph.” Donghae laughs as he paints the tip of Hyukjae’s nose with ketchup.

  Hyukjae tilts his head slightly, “Rudolph?”

  “The Red-Nosed-Reindeer.” He reveals, making the other chuckle.

  Eating outside by a hotdog cart isn’t really Donghae’s idea of an ideal date, but right now, it doesn’t really seem all that bad. Donghae can’t remember the last time he’s enjoyed himself this much.

  “You have something on your lips,” Hyukjae says after smearing some mayonnaise on Donghae’s mouth. “Allow me.”

  He kisses him, off every trace of the condiment on his lips. Once Donghae’s lips are clean, Hyukjae rests his forehead on Donghae’s, a soft smile across his face.

  “This is the best date ever.” Donghae decides as he kisses Hyukjae’s nose, removing the little bit of ketchup he left on it earlier. “You know what would make the night even better?”

  “Booze?” he asks, his hands squeezing Donghae’s thighs through the thin fabric of his slacks.

  “…I was gonna say , but your idea sounds pretty good too.” Donghae finds himself giggling as Hyukjae presses a hasty kiss against his lips before taking his hand to go and make the night perfect.

  “I don’t get you, Lee Hyukjae,” Donghae slurs his speech as he waves a bottle of soju around. “You have a gigantic house, your wallet is overflowing with money and you can literally buy anything you want—yet you choose to steal a bottle of soju from a convenience store?”

  “Stealing has a lot more thrill in it than just going up to the cashier and paying for it.” He shrugs, taking the half-empty bottle away from the younger boy when it becomes obvious that he’s had too much to drink (Hyukjae has never met anyone who gets wasted as quickly as Donghae). He gulps down the remainder of the bottle before throwing it into a nearby bush. He then turns to look at Donghae, who has become starry-eyed observing the beautiful view before them.

  Hyukjae has taken Donghae to one of his special spots in the city; usually, they’re only reserved for himself and no one else, but lately, it seems Donghae has become quite an exception for Hyukjae. This spot happens to be his favorite—it’s right under an old tree, big enough to provide shade for the both of them as they take in the perfect view of the landscapes and city lights below the hill they’re on.

  “Hyukkie…” Donghae buries his face in Hyukjae’s shoulder—though Hyukjae is more surprised at the fact that Donghae had just called him ‘Hyukkie’. He’s always hated that nickname; no one is ever allowed to call him that because he hates the way it sounds. But as usual, Donghae is an exception. “I think I’m a little…a little…”

  “Mmhmm,” Hyukjae smiles against Donghae’s hair as his voice trails off, “God, Donghae, you smell so good. I don’t mean to sound creepy, but…you really do smell ing good.” When Donghae only replies with a hum, Hyukjae continues, “I don’t know if you realized it, you probably didn’t, but I’m wearing the coat that you gave back to me. It’s become my favorite thing to wear nowadays because it doesn’t smell like me anymore—it smells like you. And I kind of like carrying your scent around.”

  Donghae doesn’t respond and Hyukjae doesn’t mind at all because he’s not really prepared for another one of his snarky, off-putting remarks. “Donghae…have you ever been in love?” he swallows a lump down his throat. “Because I never have…so I don’t know what it feels like and I can’t really tell if this is it…Donghae?”

  Hyukjae picks Donghae’s head up from his shoulder, only to realize that the boy has passed out. He doesn’t know whether to feel crushed or relieved that he hadn’t heard him spill his heart out to him just a moment ago.

  Normally, in situations like these, Hyukjae would get up and leave the other party behind, but Hyukjae again realizes that Donghae is an exception…and it’s beginning to look like he always will be.

  Donghae wakes up the next morning with a massive headache and the bitter taste of alcohol on his tongue. As his vision begins to clear up, he’s relieved to see that he’s in his own bedroom, considering he can’t remember much of what happened last night. Everything seems perfectly status quo, that is, until an obnoxious drawl comes from his bedside and he comes to realize that he’s not quite alone in the room.

  “Good morning,” Hyukjae says with his stupid, adorable gummy smile. “Did you sleep well?”

  Donghae squints at him with suspicion, “What are you doing here? You didn’t touch me in my sleep or something, did you?”

  “I was tempted to, but I didn’t.” He admits, feeling proud of himself. “It’s been quite enjoyable watching you sleep actually. I could tell you were dreaming because your eyes fluttered and you kept mumbling something I couldn’t quite make out—so what were you dreaming about?”

  “I can’t remember,” Donghae sits up, bringing his hands to his head to try to alleviate the throbbing pain. “Wait a minute, you watched me sleep? Creepy much?”

  It actually feels kind of nice to have the old, pitiless Donghae back, “I prefer the term ‘romantic’.”

  “I don’t,” he rubs his eyes before finally gaining enough strength in his legs to wobble across the room to his bathroom and get an aspirin. “My memory’s not really at its best right now, so I’ll go out on a limb and thank you for stopping me before I could do anything stupid last night. Unless…you’re the something stupid I did.”

  “Unfortunately, no. You passed out, I drove you home and I didn’t want you to wake up alone and hungover in the morning, so I thought I’d stay.” He reveals, watching Donghae as he nearly knocks over all the contents of his medicine cabinet and winces at the sound of the bottles hitting the floor. “You need any help with that?”

  “No thanks, I can handle this much by myself.” He refutes, despite the obvious struggle he has with turning the cover of the aspirin bottle open. “Feel free to show yourself out by the way. Thanks for taking a cue out of Twilight and ogling me as I slept.”

  “How can you make even a simple ‘thank you’ sound so y?” he asks, sighing as Donghae once again insists on pushing him away. “I can make breakfast; how do you like your eggs?”

  “Hard-boiled and shoved up your because you won’t freaking leave me alone.” He growls before shutting the door right in Hyukjae’s face.

  But Donghae should know better that Hyukjae doesn’t give up that easily.

  “You are the music in me na na na na oh~”

  “You never told me you sing.” Hyukjae’s voice from the other side of the shower curtain positively scares the crap out of Donghae, causing him to drop the soap and almost slip on the wet floor. “Tsk tsk. Donghae, sweetheart, do be careful or you’re gonna crack your head open.”

  Donghae’s head pokes out of one side of the shower curtain (which is decorated with smiling goldfish swimming in water and Hyukjae finds this the most adorable thing ever—besides Donghae), and despite the nasty glare upon his face, Hyukjae can’t help but laugh at the pink polka-dotted shower cap on his head. “How the hell did you get in here? Didn’t I tell you to leave?”

  Hyukjae answers his first question by showing the younger man the bobby pin he used to pick the lock; as he proceeds to the second question, he makes himself comfortable on the marble countertop. “You tell me to do a lot of things. I only ever listen to a handful of them.”

  “Is there any chance you’ll listen if I tell you one last time to get the out of my house?” Donghae doesn’t even know why he bothers to ask.

  “Not in the slightest,” he shakes his head, grinning like a proud, little schoolboy. “So, now that we have that cleared up, let me ask you something.”

  “Something tells me I’m not gonna like this.” Donghae pulls the curtain back in place as he continues to lather and rinse.

  “Keep in mind that I want a completely honest answer for this,” Hyukjae’s voice has a peculiar sense of hesitance in it, “Tell me…what does it have to take to be your boyfriend?”

  Donghae slips again, only being saved from real harm when he manages to grab hold of the shower curtain in time. “W-what?”

  “What do I have to do to be your boyfriend?” he asks again. “Just tell me so we can finally get over whatever belligerent and we have between us.”

  “Why do you even want to know?” Donghae stalls, mainly because he doesn’t quite know how to answer the question himself.

  “I—I don’t know.” He stutters. “I just want us to be together…you know?”

  “…Why?” Donghae is actually genuinely curious this time.

  “You ask a lot of questions.” Hyukjae glares at the silhouette Donghae forms on the shower curtain. “Can’t you answer mine first?”

  “Well, if you can’t even tell me why, then I don’t see why I should tell you.” His cocky remark is enough to make Hyukjae pull back the damn goldfish curtain and join him in the shower while still fully-clothed.

  “Alright, fine, I’ll ing tell you why.” Donghae doesn’t know whether to feel conscious about being in his birthday suit while Hyukjae is still in his clothes, or frightened at the ‘that’s-the-last-ing-straw-I-have-had-enough-of-your-’ look on his face. “I want us to be together because you’re crazy and loud and temperamental and quick to judge and mean and sarcastic and you have the most beautiful eyes and the most delicious lips and the nicest smile I’ve ever seen and you’re just so incredibly perfectly imperfect…and that’s what makes you so perfect for me.”

  “Because I’m so perfectly imperfect,” he plays with the collar of Hyukjae’s shirt as he speaks, “and you’re so imperfectly perfect?”

  Hyukjae grins, leaning closer so their noses are touching, “Exactly.”

  “Well then, tell me this,” he puts his arms around his neck and pulls him even closer. Donghae’s lips brush lightly against Hyukjae’s slightly parted ones, “If you like me that much, then why did you stop texting me after we had on my living room floor that night?”

  “Well, it was pretty obvious that I was annoying you with my texts,” he murmurs, his voice becoming low and gruff, “I didn’t want you to hate me any more than you already did.”

  Donghae pulls away just slightly so their eyes can meet, “I don’t hate you.”

  “I don’t hate you too.” Hyukjae has finally had enough teasing as he smashes their lips together, all the while allowing Donghae to rid him of his wet, pesky clothes.

  in the shower can be pretty dangerous, as the two realize too little, too late when they land flat on their bare asses trying to change positions.

  Though Donghae says otherwise, Hyukjae is still convinced that Donghae hates him, especially since after getting out of the shower, they have the following conversation:

  “You know, if you want to be my boyfriend, all you have to do is ask.”

  “Really?”

  He nods, and Hyukjae’s eyes light up immediately, “Will you be my boyfriend?”

  Donghae cackles, “No.”

  His face falls, “So apparently you like seeing me embarrass myself.”

  “I do,” he confirms, earning a glare from the older boy. “But that’s not why I said no. There are just some things in this world that you need to find out and do by yourself. And unfortunately for you, good things don't come that easily.”

  On Hyukjae’s face appears an intrigued smirk, “Challenge accepted.”

  For the next couple of days, Hyukjae bombards Donghae with lavish gifts, incessant phone calls and at one point, a huge skywriting spelling out ‘LEE DONGHAE BE MINE’. Donghae actually literally facepalms at the last one, but once he gets home and away from his colleagues’ pestering and teasing, he actually comes to realize that it was a really sweet gesture.

  If only Hyukjae stopped there.

  Donghae is just about to call Hyukjae when he hears a knock at the door. He opens it, only to find a barbershop quartet, yes, an actual barbershop quartet ready to serenade him as a gift from Hyukjae (how he managed to find a barbershop quartet, Donghae will never know).

  Donghae doesn’t even let them finish the song when he shoos them back out and dials Hyukjae’s number on his phone.

  “Did you see the—”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you get the—”

  “Yes.”

  “So will you be mine now?”

  “No.”

  And with that, Donghae hangs up the phone and goes to bed, mumbling something along the lines of, “Crazy ing idiot.”

  Donghae comes home from work one night sick with the flu, only to find his apartment filled with scented candles (which are all useless considering Donghae has lost his sense of smell thanks to his cold) and decorated with rose petals (Donghae almost panics just thinking about how he’s going to clean all of it up). He’s just about to call Hyukjae to curse him for messing with his apartment, but he soon realizes that Hyukjae is already there.

  Suddenly, y make-out music starts playing from nowhere, and Hyukjae emerges from the dark, a silly yet charming fedora hat sitting on the top of his head as he moonwalks towards the now slack jawed man.

  “You dance,” Donghae says, actually feeling a tad annoyed that Hyukjae has never mentioned this little detail about him before.

  Donghae is quite amazed at the way Hyukjae rolls his hips as he dances to the rhythm of the beat, and when the older man pushes him down to the couch and basically gives him a lapdance and a striptease, Donghae realizes that neither of them is going to get much sleep tonight.

  After they nearly break the bed with their rambunctious , Donghae cuddles up to Hyukjae under the sheets and Donghae can’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this safe and secure.

  But evidently so, it still isn’t enough.

  “Now will you be mine?”

  “Nope.”

  The only thing Hyukjae gets out of the whole thing is the cold he catches from Donghae.

  Donghae is actually impressed when Hyukjae recruits his friends into helping him with his next plan of a puzzle around the city. At every stop he makes, he meets one of Hyukjae’s friends (who all actually seem to be pretty nice) and they each give him clues on how to get one step closer to his destination. Donghae’s usually not one for cheesy and not to mention, exhausting games like this—Hyukjae’s just lucky that Donghae has nothing better to do.

  It’s after dark when Donghae arrives at the Han River, where Hyukjae is waiting for him in a crisp suit—it’s as if he knows about Donghae’s slight for hot men in sharp suits. Knowing Hyukjae and his uncanny ability to somehow find out the littlest things about people, he probably does know.

  “Lee Donghae, you’re the only person in the world who I would go to this much trouble for.” He greets the shorter boy with a quick kiss on the forehead. “Now, look up at the sky and tell me what you see.”

  “Um…stars?” he asks, giving the other a weird look. “What am I supposed to be seeing exactly?”

  “Wait for it,” Hyukjae shushes him by placing a finger to his lips. The two continue to look up at the sky until fireworks of all colors and sizes light up the dark sky. Donghae turns to Hyukjae, his mouth hanging open.

  “Fireworks?” he says incredulously, bewildered that Hyukjae would actually set up something like this. “Seriously?”

  “That’s right,” Hyukjae nuzzles his nose in Donghae’s ear as he throatily murmurs, “That, my darling, is what I feel every time we kiss.”

  “God, you’re such a ing sap.” But nevertheless, Donghae turns his head and his lips meet Hyukjae’s in one quick motion. And he swears that the fireworks actually started crackling louder as they kissed. They only pull away to catch their breaths, and Donghae takes the chance to say, “Ask me again.”

  “Not if you’re just gonna say no.”

  “Just do it, dip.”

  Hyukjae sighs and puts out what may be the last ray of hope he has left, “Donghae, will you be mine?”

  Donghae smiles and pecks his cheek, “Afraid not.”

  It’s times like this that Hyukjae wonders why he hasn’t killed Donghae yet.

  “You’re psychotic.” Hyukjae decides as he walks after Donghae through the busy crowd. “Not only that, but you’re also an evil, little prick.”

  “Gee, I sure love it when you to me.” He replies dryly, and he swears that Hyukjae almost looks like he’s about to hit him.

  “God, Donghae, sometimes I wonder why I even love you.” Hyukjae does hit him, but in a completely different way, that is.

  Even if he were to take a kick to the groin right now, the words that came out of Hyukjae’s mouth would still have a bigger impact on him. “What did you just say?”

  “You heard me,” he shrugs mindlessly. “I’m in love with you, so sue me.”

  The green light turns red and the two continue arguing as they cross the street, which is exactly the reason why they fail to notice the idiot that crosses the red light and nearly hits Donghae—if Hyukjae hadn’t pushed him away and put himself in his place.

  The last thing he remembers before blacking out on the cold, hard street is Donghae hovering above him, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he frantically yells at the crowd that forms to call an ambulance.

  “Donghae-ssi?” Hyukjae’s friend, whom Donghae remembers to be named Sungmin, calls him with a soft, broken voice, prompting him to stop pacing in the hall as he's been doing so for almost two hours straight now. “Hyukjae just got out of surgery and…it doesn’t look like he’s going to make it. I’m sorry.”

  If you listen closely, you can almost hear Donghae’s heart breaking into pieces.

  Donghae ignores the nurse’s heeds that visiting hours are over and bursts into Hyukjae’s hospital room, where the man who just saved his life lies in his bed looking paler than usual, barely possessing enough strength to smile as Donghae comes in.

  “Hey…um, you probably can’t talk much right now,” Donghae comes closer and gently caresses Hyukjae’s cheek, which has bruised from when he hit the pavement earlier. “So I’m going to do all the talking, okay?”

  He takes a deep breath before continuing, “First of all, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got you into this , I’m sorry that I always act like such a douchebag around you, I’m sorry that I don’t treat you the way you deserve to be treated, I’m sorry for all the terrible things I’ve said to you, I’m sorry I…” he closes his eyes, feeling the tears coming, “I’m so sorry.”

  When Hyukjae tries to speak, Donghae places his finger over his dry lips, “Don’t say anything,” he insists, “at least not until I’m finished.”

  Hyukjae responds with a weak nod. It physically hurts Donghae to see the usually strong and confident Hyukjae in such a vegetable-like state…and all because of him too.

  “God, Hyukjae, I love you,” he finally admits, sobbing as he buries his face in Hyukjae’s neck. “Can I…can I please be yours?”

  “Oh sweet baby Jesus, yes.”

  Donghae wants more than anything to wrap his arms around his neck and sob tears of joy into his chest (which would be totally so off-character for him, but it’s no time to be himself right now anyway), but he holds himself back in fear of accidentally hurting him.

  Hyukjae notices the way his brows scrunch together, so he reaches for his hand and squeezes it tightly. “Sweetheart, are you sure you want to be with a dying man?”

  “Hyukjae, I don’t care about that. I just want to be with you.” He assures him, squeezing his hand back. “I always have.”

  Slowly, his smile turns into a smirk—the very same arrogant smirk he always pulls on Donghae whenever he gets one over him. “It’s a good thing I’m going to be fine then.”

  “…What?”

  “Although hearing this may be a great disappointment to you, I’m afraid I’m not dying, darling.” He says, almost laughing at the look of utter confusion on Donghae’s face. “Sungmin and I planned this whole thing just a few minutes ago. It’s a bit unorthodox, I have to admit, and I hate to have resorted to something that low, but hey, at least it worked.”

  “You…you…you mudblood!” Donghae roars as he grabs a pillow from under Hyukjae’s head and starts smacking him with it. “Who the hell does something like that?!”

  “Ow, ow, hey!” he complains, “I may not be dying, but do remember that I’m still injured here—from saving your life, by the way.”

  “Don’t remind me,” he rolls his eyes. “God, you’re a major .”

  “That must be why you love me then.” He smirks.

  “I take it back,” he decides. “I hate you. I literally ing hate you.”

  Hyukjae laughs, “You’re still mine though.”

  “Oh shaddup.”

  Donghae didn’t want love. He just wanted Hyukjae.

  And in a sick twist of faith, he somehow ended up getting both.

  Not that he’s complaining.

  “Donghae darling, my ’s lonely~”

  Okay, so maybe he’s complaining just a tiny bit.