* * *

The black was absolute. Sticky and dense like tar, it covered everything it could: the skies, the city, the people, and even dared invade the run-down room where Yongguk was immersed in his war movies.

It was like a tiny hand of a selfish child stretched over the world. “Mine! All mine!” the night seemed to say.

There was no moon. On a night like this, you could only see the whitest of things. Stubbornly, they stand, so white the night can’t claim them, looking a little lonely and a little more defiant with each successful defense from the sinister lunges of the shadows.

White as it gets, Yongguk sat on the couch with hands under his chin, stiff as a statue, eyes never leaving the screen. The violent images flicked over his skin, illuminating him. Yongguk looked alone in the room of darkness. Yet, just next to him, Zelo sat on the floor, his long, slim legs sprawled carelessly over the rug, pointing in random directions. One of Zelo’s hands was wrapped tightly around Yongguk’s shin, and even through the fabric the skin felt tough, tanned, manly. Since Yongguk didn’t seem to mind, Zelo, from time to time, let his hand caress it a little, like a priest polishing the statue of his god.

It wasn’t about the movie, for Zelo – it was more about Yongguk watching the movie. Strangely enough, Zelo found Yongguk’s face far more entertaining that a mortal battle. When one of the movie’s heroes got stabbed or shot or blown up, Yongguk would quickly shut his eyes for a second, as if in sadness or pain. And when the enemy was the one screaming in agony, Yongguk’s lips would stretch into a wide smile, eyes glistering madly. Zelo thought him terrible, but also very, very beautiful.

“Love is like war”, someone had once said. But they didn’t explain how. Frankly, to Zelo, it sounded like poetic nonsense.

At least until Yongguk spoke up in the middle of Enemy at the Gates, something he never did before.

“Life is like war.”

Before, watching movies with Yongguk passed mostly in silence, minus Yongguk’s inane rooting during the final battle. Zelo’s eyes flickered away from the screen, wide with surprise.

“Really, it is,” Yongguk claimed decisively, as if Zelo had said otherwise. Yongguk cleared his throat. “You need three things, and three things only”, he lectured, raising three fingers as if Zelo was littlewitted*. “Faith. Power. Glory.”

Feeling the urge to chuckle at the father-like tone of his friend, Zelo still managed to keep his face straight. It wouldn’t do, to laugh - Yongguk liked to be taken seriously. And if that was what Yongguk wanted, Zelo was about to do exactly that.

“But the war is only starting, where did you get glory from?”

This defiance of Zelo’s was unexpected as well, and Yongguk stood dumbfounded for a moment, gaze frozen. Raising an eyebrow at the kid, Yongguk was slightly leaning forwards to try and see the kid’s face.

But Zelo was down on the floor, in the shadows, and the light didn’t reach him.

“Well,” Yongguk started, suddenly lost for words. But then, the answer came to him without warning, and Yongguk smiled.

“You have faith, in yourself. That gives you power, and with that power you can seize the glory.”

With that, Yongguk slumped back into the soft meat of the couch, announcing the conversation over.

Later, unwilling to sleep, long legs awkwardly dangling off the side of his undersized bed, Zelo, a good boy that he was, had a final revision of the things he’s learnt from Yongguk-hyung that day.

For one, Yongguk did like to be taken seriously. Zelo had just confirmed that. But Yongguk didn’t like to be challenged, though. That was new, a detail Zelo didn’t spot about Yongguk before.

He was utterly obsessed, Zelo knew, and, worse, with his older male friend that looked and behaved as straight as it gets. But as long as he stayed in the shadows, Zelo thought, as long as no one found out, it was fine. It even felt good, to think over and over every tiny remark of Yongguk’s, even “Pass me that goddamn controller”, “The bathroom’s free”, “We have an interview at nine” and “If you don’t want it, can I eat that?” There was a pride to being Yongguk’s biggest fan.

But even when he was done with analyzing Yongguk’s every glance and gesture that day, Zelo’s mind was still restless. Echoes of their brief conversation overwhelmed his mind.

Life is like war. You need three things, and three things only. Faith. Power. Glory. You have faith, in yourself. That gives you power, and with that power you can seize the glory.

“Okay, Yongguk,” Zelo, barely audible, whispered to the darkness. A strange sense of change overcame him – as if, starting tomorrow, nothing would ever be the same. “Yongguk,” he repeated, suddenly stoic. If a change was coming his way, he’ll make it one for the better.

”Hyung,” Zelo vowed to the night. ”From now on, I’ll do exactly as you said. Life is like war. You need three things, and three things only. Faith. Power. Glory.”

* * *

Exactly 3895 seconds had passed since Zelo woke up and started counting, yet he hadn’t made a single move so far. For all the world he looked as awake as a dead man, but on the inside he was smiling brighter than the sun outside. One of his favourite parts of a day was just about to play out – but he had to be patient. A kid had to wait for his candy, right?

“GOOD MORNIN’, SOLDIERS! RISE AND SHINE, MY LAZY- ARMY!!! UP UP UP UP UP!!!”

Zelo could barely stop the smile spreading on his face, or the way his insides suddenly twisted in anticipation. Through his long eyelashes he risked a glance to the bed next to his. Sure enough, Yongguk has started his morning routine of waking up the members himself and was currently beating Himchan up with a pillow.

It was nearly impossible not to laugh when Yongguk, seeing than Himchan had no intention of leaving his snuggly bed, grabbed another pillow and started slapping Himchan’s face with both, one cheek with the pillow in his left hand, the other with his right.

Youngjae was already up and dragging a groggy-looking Daehyun into the kitchen. Woken up by Himchan’s giggling, Jongup hurried to the bathroom while it was still free. Himchan soon gave up as well, spitting profanities into his chin and joining the duo in the kitchen.

Finally, at long last, Zelo felt Yongguk’s gaze fix on him.

“Aish, why is my robot like this, huh? Did I make you to be like this?” teased Yongguk, playfully. Yongguk was a morning person.

I mustn’t smile, Zelo told himself, gritting his teeth. It wouldn’t do, to let Yongguk find out he was only pretending to be asleep.

The bedsprings creaked loudly when Yongguk put one knee on Zelo’s bed, wondering what he should do to wake him today. Sometimes, when Zelo slept with his mouth hanging open, Yongguk poured water in there, laughing in that deep, growling voice of his. At other times the water would be poured over Zelo’s head, his blankets and pillows taken away, loud heavy metal would be played at his ear.

But today, Yongguk did something even better.

Once again, the bed creaked. To Zelo, the noise sounded obscene – it was the sound that accompanied certain things, things that didn’t bear thinking about when Yongguk was around. If he allowed himself to fantasize, Zelo’s pants might get wet, and that would be dangerous and embarrassing.