Chapter Text
Seungwoo hadn’t had a day off in fourteen days.
Calling it a fortnight didn’t do his body justice, and even the idea that it was only two weeks oversimplified the fact that it was too much time for one person to do anything, let alone work . A human being wasn’t supposed to go that long without a break, and after those fourteen days, Seungwoo no longer felt like he could call himself human.
Two weeks was a lifetime for some creatures he guessed. Mayflies maybe. But to him, it had been a period of his life designed to completely kick his ass, and he was paying for it.
But he was finally at the end of what had become a mental exercise in endurance (or self flagellation), and the only thing that stood between him and his five star big boy mattress was a single two hour commute on a train followed by another half hour on the subway once he reached the city (if he made it in time), and a short walk to his building from his stop.
Staying awake for those two, almost three hours was imperative, but he absolutely could not risk his phone dying in case something went wrong so to keep himself from passing out and ending up on the wrong side of the country, he forced himself to gaze out the window. It was a gamble because he risked making himself sick, but maybe with the lunch box (if one could call in a lunch box at that point in the evening) balanced on his lap, he could find a happy place between stimulated and distracted.
The contents were barely enough to feed a small child, but the fear of dropping any of it onto the floor and making a complete fool of himself without a napkin in sight was enough to keep him awake for the journey as long as he didn’t eat it all too fast. Unfortunately, snacking like this was torture for his exhausted body, and there was a moment somewhere around the point where he almost swallowed the boiled egg whole in one bite that the autopilot switch in his his brain was flipped, and everything but his legs completely shut down.
As a result, he skipped the entire period of time from when he was trying to keep himself awake on the train right up until the moment when he was headed directly for his apartment door.
With heavy eyes, he punched his code into the keypad on the door, and pushed it open like it weighed more than he did. He didn’t look up from his feet as the cold air hit his face even though he didn’t remember leaving the air conditioning up so high that morning. He cursed himself for what it was going to do to his electric bill if he made it a habit, but it did feel nice against his wind-beaten skin after being out in the sun all day, he had to admit.
Seungwoo still hadn’t regained control of his body, so, following his pattern of barreling towards
wherever his stream of consciousness took him, he immediately headed into the kitchen, flinging his legs beneath him like a newborn baby cow. He opened the refrigerator in search of whatever leftovers he could manage to find, but when he looked down, he couldn’t recognize anything inside at all.
It was jarring enough to knock him out of his trance, and he stood there puzzled for a solid 48 seconds before finally coming to a conclusion. Logically, he guessed that his sister had stopped by at some point during the day to stock it for him because he was notorious for forgetting to buy groceries, and he made a mental note to thank her later as soon as he could figure out what was inside all of the different containers. They weren’t her usual glass and snap reusables, but maybe she was tired of having to ask for hers back so she bought new ones just for him. More dishes for him, he frowned.
And then he heard a cough.
Seungwoo jumped and turned around, holding in a scream that would have made him look less threatening to a burglar. Across the counter that separated the two rooms, he saw a man about his age standing in the middle of his living room in a t-shirt and boxers, wielding a toothbrush.
“What are you doing here?!” Seungwoo demanded. He brandished the scallion in his hand as a weapon, ready to defend his home from the unwelcome but handsome and underdressed intruder.
“This is my house!” he shouted. “What are you doing here?!”
Seungwoo froze and looked around at his surroundings. It certainly felt like his apartment, but upon further inspection, he noticed that all of his things were gone. His favorite brown leather sofa had been replaced with a simple gray futon that faced a much larger television screen than Seungwoo would have ever bought for himself, and the pictures of his family members on the walls were replaced with people he had never seen before. Someone had moved into his apartment while he was gone?
Before he could fully register what was really going on, the stranger shoved the toothbrush he was holding back into his mouth and placed both hands on his hips, ready to scold him. Seungwoo gasped, finally realizing the mistake he had made before the other man could speak, and in his moment of shock, the onion in his hand toppled down onto the floor.
His face burned a bright red as he squatted down quickly to scoop it up, praying the five second rule could save him, but luckily if there were any germs on the floor, surely they were too busy looking up at him and laughing to contaminate this man’s poor discarded vegetable. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! This is your house!”
“Yeah, it is my house,” he half laughed at him, but there was a note of distress to his voice like he was one wrong move away from hitting Seungwoo over the head with a frying pan for breaking into his apartment. Which was his right, he supposed, but Seungwoo really wished he wouldn’t.
“Oh god, your onion,” Seungwoo cried out. He held the limp stalk in his hand sorrowfully and thought that perhaps the five second rule hadn’t been enough to make it seem like nothing happened to it. Because he broke it. He broke his onion. “I’m so sorry. Let me replace it. How much do onions cost? Oh god, I can’t even remember how much onions cost.”
“It’s just an onion,” he grumbled as he walked into the kitchen and took it from him. He ran it under the faucet to get the dirt off and broke it off at the end that waved like a pitiful green flag. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not gonna rob me right?”
“What?” Seungwoo blinked. “No! I’m trying to give you money!”
“You broke into my apartment to give me money?” He raised his eyebrows.
“No,” Seungwoo huffed. “I didn’t break in! I used the door code so it’s technically just trespassing.”
The stranger scratched his head with the newly washed onion that neither one of them probably ever wanted to eat again. “That’s true, but why do you have my door code unless you’re trying to rob me?”
It was Seungwoo’s turn to have the onion pointed threateningly towards him, but this time it was pointed right for his neck. He took a step back and put his palms up for mercy. “I don’t have your door code, I used my door code. Why is your door code the same as my door code? Oh my god, are you one of those people who become obsessed with their neighbors and try to become them by assuming their identities? Oh my god, you are, aren’t you?!”
Seungwoo grabbed his own collar in horror and backed away from the man who was surely going to try to kill him and steal his life.
The owner of the apartment swatted at him with the onion hard enough that the green part stung through his work shirt with a scowling pout. “I am not! I don’t want to be you!”
“Then why is your door code the same as my door code,” Seungwoo squeaked. He rubbed his arm where the man had whacked him.
“I don’t know!” He cried out, visibly flustered. “It’s been like that since I moved in! I don’t know how to change it!”
“Oh!” Seungwoo shouted back. “I don’t know how to change mine either!”
He lowered the onion and sighed. “Oh.”
“Did they set all the locks to the same number,” he wondered.
“If they did, that was lazy and negligent,” he said, somewhat relaxed. “So you’re not robbing me?”
“ No ,” he said, feeling even more weary. “I just went to the wrong door. I think I live across the hall from you. At least, I hope I do.”
He eyed him suspiciously. “You can’t remember which side of the hall you live on?”
“I’m really tired, okay,” Seungwoo sighed, and then as the adrenaline from their first meeting finally died out, the embarrassment took over, and he straightened back up and laughed. “Uhhh, but I think I should get going… sorry about this… won’t happen again. Probably. Sorry, what was your name again?”
“Seungsik,” he said. “And it’s fine! Maybe knock first next time.”
Seungsik wasn’t nearly as angry as he could have been (or should have been), and now that he was no longer smacking Seungwoo with a broken green onion stalk, he seemed kind of nice, but before Seungwoo had the chance to apologize again, he leaned over the sink and spit his toothpaste out into the basin. Hooked over, he rinsed his mouth out with the water from the faucet before sticking the toothbrush back in the corner of his mouth like it was just an after dinner toothpick, and Seungwoo found the action both unsettling and oddly charming.
“You hungry?”
“What,” he coughed. He broke away from his face and turned towards the refrigerator so that it wasn’t obvious that he had been staring. “No, I’m not hungry.”
“You feral raided my fridge even though you’re not hungry,” Seungsik squinted. “Well, I’m starving, and now that I can’t eat this onion anymore, I think I’m going to have to have something delivered. You like chicken? That’s probably what people usually eat, right?”
Seungwoo shook his head. “That’s ok, I should get out of here, though.”
Seungsik shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Sorry for your onion,” he said, looking at the poor plant that he had destroyed. “And sorry for breaking into your apartment.”
“It’s ok,” he laughed, waving him off. “Have a good night, though.”
With that, Seungwoo got out of the wrong apartment as fast he could. His hand shook as he punched the same door code into his own keypad before it opened with a gentle beep that reminded him that he was an idiot who couldn’t tell his left from his right. This is why I don’t fucking drive.
He frowned to himself before going into his warmer and quieter apartment. This one had his favorite couch and the pictures of his family on the walls. Seungsik couldn’t hit him with a root vegetable for breaking into his home by accident in there. He rubbed his arm idly even though it didn’t hurt.
That was his name, right? He would forget it soon, if he ever got over the shame. He rarely ever saw or spoke to his neighbors, and this one wouldn’t be any different, he figured. Plus, it was probably for the best because if he ever had to interact with him again, he would surely die from embarrassment. First impressions were important, and he had left one hell of a bad one.
Still pouting, Seungwoo headed for his own fridge and opened it to find a whopping grand total of nothing. He may have not had any leftovers or gifts from his sister, but he did have a couple of supplement pouches and a yogurt drink, so if he included them with the snacks he had earlier on the train, it probably counted as a meal.
His stomach growled in protest. He looked down and frowned, patting his belly gently to apologize. We’ll get you something nice to eat, buddy. How about pizza? You like pizza, right?
His stomach growled a second time, and he smacked it with a little more force. No, he’s having chicken. We’re having pizza. I can’t emotionally handle that right now. Can’t you see I’m upset?!
His stomach growled a third time, much louder than the first two. I said no!
Ignoring his gut instinct, he took out his phone and pulled up the first delivery app he saw. Luckily there was a special for two pizzas and a coke from his favorite place, and that seemed to be enough to satisfy his demanding appetite. Even if his stomach changed its mind and protested again, it was just going to have to live with that because Seungwoo could not pass up a discount.
After placing his order, he hurried to the bathroom to shower and wash all the day sweat off of him, and then he changed into his favorite purple satin pajamas before the driver could get there.
Just when he thought he could finally relax, he remembered he was supposed to bring back a folder with him that he couldn’t remember if he actually made it into the city with or not, and his stomach dropped. In the worst case scenario, he could call in the morning and have someone fax it to him, but that meant he would have to go into the office on his day off, making it fifteen days of work…
He couldn’t do it. His body couldn’t stand it anymore, and obviously his mind couldn’t either if one used his most recent exchange as a reference. He would rather get fired than go back into work without his well deserved and much needed break, but he also couldn’t do that because unfortunately, it happened to be really hard to switch careers when a person was trained to do one specific thing only.
His fate was up in the air. Either his paperwork was safe and sound in his briefcase or it was at the job site. The only way to know how he would have to spend the next day (or week) was to get up and check. He got up to grab his briefcase that doubled as a laptop bag and a snack transporter, and that was when he discovered to his horror that it hadn’t made it back into his apartment with him. Not just the folder.
Seungwoo’s knees buckled beneath him. Did I leave it at the site? Did I leave it on the train? Think, Seungwoo, think!
It wasn’t just a folder missing anymore. It was his laptop, his work tablet, his ID passes, and a shit ton of business cards that belonged to people he didn’t want to clog his contact list with but he probably needed to be able to get ahold of especially if he lost any of the other contents of that bag. All gone.
His stomach growled again, but before he could curse it for its terrible timing, he remembered where he last had it. At first he was so relieved he thought he could cry, but then he was so mortified, he thought he could cry for a much different reason. It wasn’t a lost cause at all because he was sure he had left it at the other apartment, but that was just as nerve wracking as it was comforting.
What was he supposed to do? He needed his bag to make sure he had everything for work, but at what cost? What little dignity he had left? Did it really have to be like this?
It did. It really did have to be like this, and there was nothing he could do about it.
He sucked it up and marched through his apartment, out the door, and to his neighbor’s door, opting to knock this time. He wasn’t a complete caveman, you know.
Seungsik answered the door with a friendly smile that immediately dropped as soon as he saw him, making Seungwoo want to crawl in a hole and die, but it was immediately replaced by a new friendlier smile once he registered who it was. “Oh! I thought you were the food.”
“Ah,” he said, relaxing a little because he too would have been disappointed if he was only teased with the promise of his dinner. “Sorry to bother you again, but I think I left something I need in here.”
Seungsik stared back at him, confused.
“My bag thing,” he clarified, and used his hands to try to explain what it was with a vague shape. “It’s like a laptop bag but bigger, kind of. I was hoping I left it here…”
“Oh! Let me go check!” Seungsik turned around to search for it. The door closed behind him without an invitation so Seungwoo waited patiently outside while Seungsik looked. He wrung his hands together as a minute or two passed with the creeping worry in the back of his mind that it wasn’t in there at all until the door again and he saw it slung over Seungsik’s shoulder.
“Thank you so much,” he said as Seungsik handed it to him. “I was so worried I left it on the train.”
Seungsik sucked his teeth. “Oh man, that would have been terrible! No, it was safe in here next to the refrigerator.”
Seungwoo winced. “Wow, I really did go full caveman in there didn’t I? I’m so sorry, I’m just not myself tonight…”
Seungsik laughed and waved him off. “Stop saying sorry! You didn’t do anything wrong. Did you eat yet?”
Before Seungwoo could lie, two different delivery drivers came down the hall together, headed towards their apartments with bundles of food in their arms. Pizza at one door and chicken at the other.
“That’s for me,” Seungwoo said as the driver with the pizza boxes knocked on his door directly behind him. He looked at him suspiciously like Seungwoo was trying to swipe some random person’s food even though Seungwoo was, in fact, the one who ordered it, and the chicken delivery guy was also glaring at him too because he was standing in his way. Seungwoo stepped to the side and mumbled a quick apology, earning an amused chuckle from Seungsik who had spent an awful lot of time giggling at him for one night, in Seungwoo’s opinion.
“Sorry, this is for this address,” the pizza delivery guy said awkwardly, pointing towards Seungwoo’s door. “But we’re still taking orders for the next hour.”
“Yeah, no, that’s my apartment,” he laughed. He stretched out his hands to take the food off of his hands, but the driver didn’t hand it over. “Thanks.”
His eyes shifted back and forth between the door and Seungwoo, not sure what he was supposed to do. It wasn’t often that people tried to steal food like this.
“Really! It’s my place,” Seungwoo insisted. He walked over to his door and punched in the code that apparently everyone in the building had, and it unlocked with a problem, but the driver didn’t budge regardless. Seungwoo blinked. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m supposed to make a delivery,” he said.
Seungwoo paused for a few seconds as the two of them stared at each other at an impasse. “Alright.”
He went inside his own apartment and closed the door behind him and waited. A few moments later there was a polite knock on his door. He opened it to find the same pizza delivery guy waiting with his two boxes of pizza and his coke.
“How much was that again,” Seungwoo asked, biting back the urge to scream.
“Oh, the other guy went ahead and paid for it, you’re good,” he said with a shrug. “Here you go.”
He blinked again, the urge to scream bubbling back up in his throat. “Then why didn’t you let– thank you.”
“Have a nice night!” He said, practically shoving the food into Seungwoo’s arms. He spun on his heel and left like the building was on fire, and Seungwoo stood in the doorway with his pizza, stunned. Seungwoo peeked his head out into the hall and saw that both Seungsik and the chicken guy were gone as well. “What the fuck is happening to me?”
He set his briefcase and his food down in his identical kitchen before heading back to Seungsik’s apartment to physically fight him for paying for his food while Seungwoo was in the middle of his second most embarrassing situation of the night.
He knocked again, and Seungsik answered, and as soon as he opened the door, the smell of piping hot fried chicken spilled out, and it made his head spin with envy. He prayed his traitor stomach could keep quiet long enough for him to make it back to the safety of his own home where his pizzas waited for him, but he couldn’t count on it when he could practically smell how crunchy it was.
“Yeees?” Seungsik said, slouching casually against the doorframe.
“You paid for my pizza,” he said. “Why would you do that?”
“Personal amusement.”
“Is this funny to you,” Seungwoo asked with his hands on his hips, mirroring the way Seungsik had prepared to scold him earlier except without a toothbrush or an onion to wave around.
“A little bit,” he said, biting back a smile.
“Why,” he almost shouted.
“Because you’re hungry and deranged, and I don’t have any hobbies.”
Seungwoo hung his head and laughed. “Alright, well, thanks, but let me pay you back for it.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, kind of cutely if Seungwoo had to describe what kind of annoying he was being.
“Ok, then let me buy your chicken,” he insisted.
“Nope.”
He exhaled sharply through his nose. “What about the onion?”
“What onion?”
“Oh my god,” he covered his face. “I really am losing it.”
“I’m just kidding,” Seungsik laughed. “But no, I don’t want your money.”
“Then what do you want,” he asked, exhausted.
Seungsik’s eyes darted between him and the door behind him.
“Could I have a slice,” he asked quietly.
“Of course,” Seungwoo said. “Let me go get the box.”
“Bring both of them over,” he called out as Seungwoo hurried back.
“Both?!”
“My poor onion!” Seungsik cried out loud enough he could have signaled one of their other neighbors.
Seungwoo looked over his shoulder and glared. “Really.”
“Hurry up, I’m starving,” he whined, rubbing his stomach. “A strange man broke into my apartment and broke my onion.”
“It was fine! I followed the five second rule! And I did not break in! We established this!”
Seungsik slumped against the frame with his hand over his stomach like he hadn’t eaten in days. It was a sight that, for some reason, upset Seungwoo more than any of the other trauma he had endured within the last hour had, and it overrode his own need for food. “Hurry!”
“Just wait right there,” he said before running off. He couldn’t let the poor guy starve! He imagined the horror of Seungsik’s cheeks deflating, and his heart ached. Seungwoo couldn’t let that happen, not one bit.
When he returned with everything he had ordered for himself, his neighbor’s door was shut again with Seungsik nowhere in sight. He almost dropped both boxes on the floor in frustration, but he held it together, if only to ready himself to throw it at him.
“He’s fucking with me, isn’t he,” Seungwoo said to himself with his mouth in a thin line.
Normally he was the type of person to play tricks, but he had worn himself down enough in those dreadful two weeks that he had become the target for mischief. That was another thing Seungwoo wouldn't let happen.
He was determined that as soon as Seungsik opened the door, he was going to give him a piece of his mind. A piece he surely wouldn’t forget.