Archive of Our Own

Some people left touching memories behind when they moved out. K left a broken desk lamp and three boxes of junk for Jay to sort through. Not that Jay complains, he is not that type of person, refuses to be one. He supports his old roommate's desire for chasing after his dream — if K was still standing in front of Jay, he'd clamp a hand around his shoulder and reassure him like the amazing roommate he was. After all, 3 years of rooming together was enough to build a friendship strong enough to withstand nights worthy of noise complaints and barely being able to scrap up enough money to pay off rent. They'd learned to make it work, a great team effort of figuring out how to survive in such a poor neighbourhood with barely any hurdles.

When K had announced his decision to pursue the career of a marathon runner. Sure, Jay was a little stumped — of course, he’d known that nothing lasts forever and that they'd part ways one day. He was even certain, that he and K would leave on good terms. But the timing was too abrupt for Jay, and for once he felt a little stab of betrayal pierce through him. There wasn't much of a heads-up, not much time to prepare for the big shift — that the apartment would suddenly only be occupied by one person rather than two and that, the rent that they both had to cover would be too high for Jay to pay by himself.

Jay didn't want to think poorly of K — however in the moment, tension is starting to form in his skull and anxious thoughts of 'How am I meant to prepare for this?', he can only attempt to swallow down the putrid taste lingering in his tight throat. Still, Jay is a good friend, he'd like to think of himself as one. So he’s making an effort, even if his circumstances aren’t always the best, to be a more positive person.

That's why he is currently rummaging through the boxes left behind by K, trying very hard to believe that this is a blessing-in-disguise. For he needs to scrape up some extra money for the rent he has yet to pay, since there was a leak in his bathroom that the landlord refused to get checked. Jay had to get it sorted with his own hands. Sadly, God has not gifted him with the natural talent of a plumber and he ended up causing more damage that he had to cover. Being frugal is not always worth it.

If it looks remotely valuable, he props it on the edge of his dining table — trying his best to mostly capture the pale-coloured wall in the background, and take a picture with his phone. Anything else, he leisurely tosses into his 'junk pile' which starts to stack in the middle of the living room. This only makes the apartment look more cluttered, but Jay doesn't care, for the only other person in the room is his neighbour Sunghoon — and Jay has seen him do worse things.

He is sitting on the other end of the table, opposite to where Jay is dutifully typing out a listing on his laptop for some wireless mouse. His dark hair swept back with a cap, pale face dotted with moles and a layer of sweat that Jay scowls at, since Sunghoon apparently decided to pay him a visit post-gym session without actually showering. The used towel still hanging around his neck.

In his hand, a hefty plastic bottle with a cringe gym-bro-esque quote stamped across it. Something along the lines of, 'Don't Quit. Get Shit Done.' Sunghoon swirls the oddly thick sludge inside it once, pained expression pinching his thick brows together, before taking a reluctant sip of his (supposed) protein shake, his face immediately twisting in regret. A low, old-man groan escapes him as he forces himself to swallow.

"Don't you dare throw up on my floor," Jay says without looking up.

Lips smacking once and wiping the remnants off with the back of his hand, Sunghoon shoots him an offended look. "I'm trying not to."

Midway through clicking between multiple open tabs of online listings, Jay scoffs, "Seriously," murmuring the rest, "I don't think your attempt at a protein shake is even digestible." It certainly shouldn't be the consistency of curled milk.

Sunghoon doesn't respond to his remark, however with one glance Jay can tell that he's giving him a smug grin, before looking around the apartment like he's thinking about something. Analysing the cracked walls and poorly concealed spots where mold just continues to grow no matter what Jay does. (He blames it on the humidity). The exposed pipes let out a concerning wheeze that Jay has learned to tune out but thanks to Sunghoon, he manages to notice it again.

There's a loud creak when Sunghoon leans back in his chair, simply exhaling, which Jay knows means that he's preparing to say something. Jay might even have a clue as to what it is.

"Dude," Sunghoon starts but hesitates, then he leans in and against the table with his arms, trying to bring himself closer to Jay. For some reason, he brings his voice down too, to a low hushed tone, likely trying to soften the punch. "Your apartment is not in good shape."

Jay fights the urge to roll his eyes, keeping his back straight and still. "That's news to me."

Sunghoon stays still as well, Jay assumes that he probably noticed that he was trying to dry-humour his way out of this topic.

"What's that?" Sunghoon asks instead, sticking one thumb out and pointing behind himself at the wires poking out behind the TV near the wall.

"Just the TV cable. Temporarily exposed. Don't worry about it."

He stares at Jay with round eyes, thick brows furrowing once more. "Is that normal?"

"Sure," Jay shrugs, trying to make it seem like it's not that big of a deal, but the truth is that he is concerned about the rodent issue that suddenly popped up in their building. "I'll take care of it as soon as I get my next pay-check."

Sunghoon shakes his head in disbelief, mouth starting to hang a little. "Your apartment is actually awful, Jay-ah."

Jay stands up again and moves to the huge pile in the center of the room, "Don't act all high and mighty, we live in the same complex", he begins to rummage through K's 'leftovers'. "Your place is not much better than mine." Jay adds, acting like he's distracted by a random hacky-sack that most likely once belonged to K's older brother. Admittedly, not enjoying the path this conversation is starting to head.

"There's no way you can afford this place on your own." Sunghoon turns around to face Jay, one arm propped against the back of the chair. This time, he makes sure to enunciate every word. "You need to find a roommate again."

Jay stays silent, playing into his act of finding K's collection of trash interesting. Most of it will end up in the pile anyway. 'Just drop it, Hoon'. He thinks to himself.

Sunghoon, of course, doesn't.

"Right. Well. I have an idea," He announces to the ghost of Jay's presence, not even bothering to wait for Jay's immediate confused 'huh?'. One arm reaches over the table and he slides Jay's laptop closer to himself, tapping out of Jay's Facebook marketplace listing and into a new tab. "We can upload an advert on the web. How about that, Jay-ah? Since, you're kinda stubborn. I'll even do it for you." The tone he uses ends up taking on a teasing lilt. Like he's hoping to elicit a reaction from Jay.

"Wait," Jay spins around quickly, his teeth grit tightly, and rushes to his neighbour's side, "No, Hoon, at least let me do it! I don't trust whatever you're gonna put on there."

Sunghoon spreads his palm across his chest in a manner that is positively shocked, feigning offence. "You don't trust me?"

"No," Jay deadpans, he scoots his laptop out of Sunghoon's grasp and back into its former place. Not giving Sunghoon the pleasure of looking up and letting him see the corner of his mouth quirked up into a signature smirk.

After reluctantly posting a roommate advertisement everywhere he could think of, including the local Facebook group that seemed to exist exclusively for old residents who found a multitude of things to complain about. Jay signs his email and phone number at the bottom of the listing, because if he is going to do this, he might as well give people a way to contact him. He hates that it has come to this, but apparently paying rent alone is no longer an option.

He hates even more the fact that he knows Sunghoon is right.

For the next few days, nothing happens. Jay's phone remains stubbornly silent and he pretends it doesn't eat him up.

All of his time is occupied with lousy shifts at the diner that he works at. Lamb's Garden, which is often mistaken for vegan coffee-shop but is instead an old-fashioned grease and deep-fry menu restaurant. Somehow constantly swarmed with customers. It's the first job post-graduate Jay was able to keep. It also feels like a waste of Jay's expensive culinary degree. He had big dreams of becoming a world-renowned chef — however reality crushes those dreams very easily, since such chances are far and few between.

Now he's stuck preparing slop when he gets the opportunity to cook at all.

'It's fine,' Jay reassures himself with forced optimism, accepting the fact he might just have to start living there 24/7 to pay off the rent. Blissfully unaware that the rest of the staff are looking at him a little concerned, since he started to murmur these thoughts out loud.

Hot water thunders into the deep bubbly sink, dish after dish sliding through his neon rubber gloves that reach up to his elbow. Plates knock together with sharp clacks. Jay scrubs at the gunk with a little too much force, concentrating his "minimal" frustration into that one spot.

Kitchen spaces are super noisy — the hiss of pots and pans frying, background staff chatting away, cooks on duty shouting half-finished orders and ringing the bell so harshly it might cave in, even the ventilation system that's installed is terribly loud and whirring about. Despite that, it doesn't help reduce the temperature of the room. Steam and humidity carve its home into every pore on Jay's skin, leaving him damp and making the fabric of his uniform cling to his back. He uses his sleeve to wipe away the sweat droplets that formed on his forehead, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Halfway through rinsing another plate, a figure saunters over and stands next to Jay. He only glances up after a tray stacked with a dirty mountain of dishware appears in his peripheral vision, his eyes slowly traveling upward and recognizing the familiar face — the part-timer waiter with a neatly secured name-tag on his fitted brown apron, Sunoo.

Jay squeezes his eyes shut and hisses a long-suffering "no" through his teeth.

Sunoo offers him a sheepish smile before dumping the dishes into the sink with a loud clatter. Water splatters everywhere and across Jay's torso, which earns Sunoo a deathly glare from Jay. Sticky with sweat and now soaked through as well.

In return, Sunoo gives him a little apologetic shrug, his lips slightly pouted and eyes fox-like but not mischievous. "Sorry," he blurts out.

'Oh, just great'. Jay takes off his gloves and leans against the frame of the sink, letting his weight settle against it just as Sunoo walks out of the kitchen, using one hand to fan himself. Jay needs just 5 minutes to compose himself.

He feels something vibrate in his pocket, glancing toward the kitchen entrance to check it's clear before slipping a wet hand beneath his apron and fishing out his phone. He struggles a bit to unlock the screen, the sensor not quite picking up his clammy fingers.

An unknown number.

Unknown: hi

Jay blinks.

'No way. Did someone actually respond to my roommate ad?' He thinks to himself in disbelief and quickly wipes his thumb against his apron to send a text back.

Jay: Hi. Is this about the apartment listing?

The reply comes almost immediately.

Unknown: yea

Unknown: saw ur ad

Jay's eyebrows lift. 'Perhaps, someone younger than me?'

Jay: Oh, great. Are you interested?

Unknown: 👍

Jay stares at the thumbs-up. Puzzled.

"...Okay."

He waits and waits. Nothing else comes. Jay glances at the screen again, as if another message might magically appear if he glares hard enough. His patience running out.

Jay: Would you like to come see the apartment?

The three dots appear.

Disappear.

Appear again.

Jay might rip his own hair out.

Unknown: yea sure

Unknown: wen

'Wen?' He frowns at his phone.

Though, it really isn't something worth wasting his brainpower over. He decides to let it slide.

Jay: I'm free Thursday after six. Does that work?

Another pause. Chat bubbles popping up and then disappearing again.

'What is this guy mulling over? He takes so long to reply, only to respond with a few words.'

Unknown: k

Unknown: 6 good

Jay: Great. I'll send you the address then.

Unknown: 👍

Jay's eyebrows climb up again.

Another thumbs-up.

'Is this guy some kid? Is this the trendy new way to text between teenagers?'

Before he can think more on it, a voice comes from behind him.

"Jay."

He nearly drops his phone into the sink.

Jungwon stands in the doorway, staring at him with his arms crossed. Jungwon, the owner's son, next in line and second-in-power in the workplace hierarchy.

Jay immediately shoves the phone back into his pocket, albeit clearly too late now.

"I wasn't—"

"On your phone?"

"...No."

Jungwon raises an eyebrow.

Jay sighs."Okay. Yes."

"You know my parents don't pay you to text during your shift, right?"

Despite having a very innocent looking face, accompanied by feline-ish features, Jungwon's tone can somehow always sound stern without ever raising his voice.

"I was answering a potential roommate." Jay decides to tell the truth, honestly, he can't lie his way out of a predicament even if his life depended on it. In Jungwon's metaphorical claws, it sort of borders that life-or-death choice.

Jungwon's expression changes slightly, but that barely lasts a moment. If Jay thought he saw something soften just a bit, it's gone now, like he had hallucinated it in the first place.

"Then you can deal with it after you're done washing the dishes." Jungwon points at the freshly added pile, courtesy of Sunoo.

Jay looks down at the bubbly sink and at the dishes that stare back at him. Avoiding the stares from his other coworkers who took this moment to pause and watch the exchange — too nosy for their own good.

"Get back to work," Jungwon commands, "that applies to everyone." He does a quick once-over, before storming out of the kitchen.

Jay mutters something under his breath, rolls up his sleeves much higher, and reaches for the next plate.

At least he has a roommate showing to look forward to.

Assuming the guy actually shows up. (He doesn't in reality look forward to it, at all.)

A few days pass before Thursday finally rolls around.

In between, Jay and the unknown number exchanged a handful of messages. Nothing particularly interesting. Mostly logistics.

He learned the stranger's name is Jake, and that he is actually the same age as Jay. Jake grew up in town, apparently having lived his whole life there, and now he is finally looking to move into his own place.

In anticipation of Jake's arrival, Jay spends the afternoon tidying up the apartment, shifting furniture and moving whatever clutter he can find to cover the more obvious cracks and imperfections. He couldn't help the sudden nervousness that settled into the pit of his stomach when he woke up that day — making a good first impression is crucial to securing a roommate.

Every time he rearranges something, he takes a break, walks to up the door and peers through the peephole — making sure Jake isn't accidentally standing behind, waiting. By the third check, Jay is starting to feel anxious. Debating whether Jake actually flaked on him.

The hallway is completely empty.

Jay pulls out his phone, the screen displaying 5:59 p.m. No new notifications. He feels himself deflate a little at the growing possibility that perhaps Jake did.

Even after he made the effort to make the apartment more presentable and appealing. Which is still a pretty terrible sight, but it is the best that he can do with his own hands. He went as far as vacuuming the living room rug, uncovering layers of caked-in grime that suggests none of the previous tenants had ever considered cleaning it.

It has been a long day, and now it feels like all that effort has been for nothing. He feels a little gullible for trusting random phone numbers — they could very well be some stupid teenagers trying to prank idiots like Jay.

Exhaustion weighs heavily on Jay's limbs as he drags himself towards the sofa, ready to collapse into it.

He is just about to reach the cushions when three quick knocks sound from the door. Jay's eyes immediately follow the source, he comes closer to look through the peephole and freezes. There's a figure standing there.

Jay fishes his phone from his pocket and glances at the screen.

6:00 p.m.

Exactly on the dot. Not a minute early or late.

A shiver runs down his spine. There's something eerie about it, considering there was nobody there a moment ago.

With the security chain latched, Jay opens the door a crack to take in their appearance.

Soft, fluffy dark hair that frames a surprisingly innocent-looking face. Big, dark eyes staring right back at Jay, wide and kind of dopey. There is something harmless about him, though he looks more confused than anything else, like he’d somehow got lost on the way here. Or got lost and then ended up here. His full lips are pressed into a faint frown, teeth occasionally catching at his lower lip.

"Are you here for the apartment viewing?" Jay asks, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

The man behind the door simply nods.

"Oh, okay. Please come in."

Jay swallows, suddenly aware of how awkward he's being. He reaches for the security lock, carefully unfastening it before pulling the door open wider and stepping aside to let Jake in.

God, he didn't have to do this back when he moved in with K. He's not entirely sure how to give someone a tour of the apartment, but Jay is the type of person who starts rambling about a topic and then just doesn't stop.

"Obviously, you've already seen the pictures from the listing, but, you know, pictures can be kind of misleading."

Jake's eyes move slowly across the living room, and so Jay takes that as his cue to start talking.

"So, first thing you should know is that there's a laundry room downstairs in the complex. It's shared with the rest of the building, of course, but it's usable."

"Although," Jay quickly adds, "I usually just go to the laundromat."

Jake glances toward him. He's strangely quiet, and the silence makes Jay stumble a little over his words.

"Um—the clothes always end up smelling a little stuffy, no matter how many loads you run through the machines. So I prefer using the laundromat. But, uh, I swear, the washing machines are perfectly functional."

Jake says nothing, he just continues to stare.

Jay isn't even sure he's seen the guy blink once since he walked through the door.

"—Anyway." He gestures vaguely toward the window, which faces almost directly into the brick wall of the neighbouring building. There's a narrow gap between the two where a sliver of the street can be seen, which is about as close to a proper view as Jay gets. A humbling reminder of just how cheap this place is.

"The bus line isn't too far either. Maybe like a two minute walk?"

"And the neighbourhood looks worse than it actually is," Jay continues quickly. "It's a little dingy, sure, but it's pretty quiet. Mostly. Nothing's ever happened to me, at least—not in the three years I've been here."

Huh. Must be a great selling point, because the admission earns him the faintest smile from Jake.

"There's a convenience store around the corner. Pharmacy, too. Grocery store's about fifteen minutes away."

Jay wrings his hands together nervously before noticing how clammy his palms have gotten. He quickly wipes the sweat against his pants.

"So, yeah. It's not exactly luxury, but it's passable."

Silence settles between them, since Jay can't think of anything else to mention.

Jake continues looking around, his gaze drifting from the kitchen to the living room before eventually settling on the hallway.

Ugh.

It's so awkward. Jay hates it.

He clears his throat before asking, "Do you have any questions?"

Jake finally speaks for the first time since he walked in.

"Oh, yeah nah."

Jay stares at him, momentarily caught off guard. It's not so much the answer that throws him off, but the unmistakable Australian twang in Jake's voice. Australian. Definitely Australian. Jay blinks, a flicker of confusion crossing his mind as he recalls their text exchange from only a few days ago.

"And you said you're from here?"

"Ah, yeah."

"Not to be nosy," Jay quickly adds, "but I can't help noticing the accent. Sounds Australian? Is it?"

Jake hesitates, very obviously, his gaze suddenly darting away from Jay's.

"I—uh, just got back home from visiting family abroad. Back in... Australia, yeah."

Jay's eyebrows lift slightly. Right. Australia. Something isn't adding up here. Either Jake is bullshitting him about being back from Australia, or he'd been bullshitting him in their texts. But... why lie about something like that? What could he possibly have to gain from pretending he'd always lived here?

Jake had told him he'd grown up right here in town, yet now he's apparently just returned from a family visit back in Australia. One of those things has to be bullshit, and Jay knows it. The whole thing is starting to feel a little shady, but Jay can't figure out why he would lie about it.

"Ah. Cool, cool." Jay nods, deciding he probably shouldn't start interrogating the guy like a cop over something that isn't really his business. Not yet, anyway. "Um... can I offer you some water or anything?"

"Nah, yeah. Water's cool. Thanks."

Jay heads into the kitchen and pours the water into an actual glass. Somehow, that feels a little more respectable than offering a potential roommate some half-crushed plastic bottle. He's trying to make the dingy apartment seem a little more presentable, after all.

When he returns and offers the glass to Jake, the other man accepts it without a word. He licks his bottom lip almost absentmindedly, as though he'd been thirstier than he let on. But after the first sip, his brows furrow, as though something about the taste doesn't sit right with him.

"It's missing something."

Jay watches him carefully.

"Salt."

"Salt?" Jay repeats, dumbfounded.

Jake simply nods, eyes wide and strangely earnest. Jay stares back at him, blinking in confusion, waiting for the punchline. Surely Jake is going to start laughing and admit he's messing with him.

He's actually asking for salt?

Against his better judgment, Jay heads back into the kitchen and returns with the salt shaker. He hands it over, expecting Jake to add the tiniest pinch.

Instead, Jake proceeds to dump in enough salt to make Jay's stomach churn. Jay audibly flinches, a barely suppressed groan escaping him.

There's no way that's still drinkable, yet Jake takes another sip anyway. His expression immediately relaxes, and he lets out a satisfied, "Hm." Apparently, that's much more to his liking.

Jay can only stare at him in quiet horror.

The following afternoon, Sunghoon is back in Jay's apartment, happily resuming his self-appointed role as taste tester now that he's no longer on a cut. Jay is halfway through seasoning a pan of chicken when Sunghoon's hand suddenly appears over his shoulder, only for Jay to smack it away with the back of his wrist.

"Don't."

Sunghoon pulls his hand back with an exaggerated grimace. "Ahh, Jay-ah. So cruel to your neighbours." He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "And here I was, just trying to check the food."

"You've checked six times."

Sunghoon's lips curl into a wolfish grin. "Quality control."

"You're eating half my dinner."

"Then your dinner is passing quality control." His grin grows bigger. "It's the sign of a great chef."

Jay rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches as he turns back to the pan. He gives the chicken another stir, listening to it sizzle against the heat.

After a moment, he says, "You know... there was something weird about that guy from yesterday." Honestly, his whole existence is kind of weird. Jay doesn't know what to make of him.

Sunghoon's attention shifts immediately. He leans back against the counter, thick eyebrows lifting. "That potential roommate?"

"Yeah."

Sunghoon studies Jay for a moment, noticing the faint crease between his brows and the distinctly irritated look on his face. "What?"

"He put salt in his water."

Sunghoon stares at him, the confusion written plainly across his face.

"Like, a lot of salt," Jay adds, frowning as he remembers it. "He just dumped it in and drank the whole thing."

"Maybe it's like an Australian thing?"

Jay stops stirring and slowly turns to look at Sunghoon, Jay's expression is one of pure disbelief. He stares for a moment, too tired to even question the logic behind that conclusion.

"Salt in water? Are you kidding me? Why on Earth would that be an Australian thing?" Jay scoffs, dragging a hand through his short black hair and pushing it back from his forehead. He's already spent too much time trying to make sense of Jake. He really doesn't have the energy to start making sense of this, too.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Sunghoon reaches for another piece of chicken. He stuffs it into his mouth, clearly trying not to laugh.

"Dude, I don't know. Electrolytes." He shrugs, then adds, "But you desperately need a flatmate. I do too. Hopefully Heeseung can wrap up whatever is taking up his time soon. I don't know how long I can keep up my rent like this."

A tired sigh escapes Jay as he stirs the chicken around the pan. "I know..." His expression falls slightly. He hates that he's gotten this desperate. He wouldn't be considering letting some strange guy into his apartment if he could afford the rent on his own. A small flicker of resentment towards K surfaces, but Jay quickly buries it.

"So when's Heeseung moving in, then?" Jay asks instead.

"Soon-ish." Sunghoon gives a helpless shrug. "He didn't really give me a proper answer."

The conversation soon moves on to other things, though Sunghoon remains firmly planted in the kitchen, more than happy to help Jay finish the rest of his dinner. By the time he finally leaves, the apartment is quiet again, and Jay doesn't give Jake much more thought for the rest of the evening.

By morning, however, the thought is waiting for him.

Jay lies in bed for several minutes, staring blankly at the ceiling as the same uncomfortable realization settles over him. He needs a flatmate. That much hasn't changed. His rent isn't going to magically become more affordable, and waiting around for someone else to answer his listing isn't exactly a reliable plan.

Unfortunately, the only person who has actually shown any interest is Jake. This isn't exactly how Jay imagined things would go.

Jay shoves his face into the pillow before he lets out a loud groan, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration.

There's something strange about the guy. He still can't quite put his finger on what it is, but none of it is exactly enough to justify turning him away when he desperately needs someone to help with the rent.

With a tired sigh, Jay reaches for his phone and pulls up Jake's number. His thumb hovers over the call button for a few seconds before he finally presses it.

Jake answers surprisingly quickly. The phone rings only once before his voice comes through, almost as if he'd been waiting for the call.

“Hello?” His Australian accent is unmistakable, the vowels rounded and drawn out in a way Jay isn't quite used to.

"Hey. It's Jay." He rubs the sleep from his eyes, still sounding a little groggy. Jake, on the other hand, sounds remarkably fresh, as though he's been awake for hours. Jay wonders if the guy is an early riser. "So—about the apartment."

He shifts beneath the covers, staring up at the ceiling. "I've given it some thought, and I think—" The words catch briefly in his throat before he forces himself to finish. "I've decided to go with you. If you're still interested, that is."

"Of course!"

The answer comes almost immediately. Jay blinks, a little surprised. It's the first time he's heard Jake sound so eager, so genuinely enthusiastic.

"Okay. Good." He clears his throat. "Then we should probably get the lease sorted out. Would you be able to come over today?"

"Okay."

A faint rustle comes through the phone, followed by what sounds like a gust of wind. Somewhere in the background, a bird chirps, and for a moment Jay wonders if Jake is even indoors.

"Right. Would you be able to come in a few hours, then?"

"Okay."

"I'll send you the details."

"Okay."

There's something almost strangely bright about the way Jake says it. The word itself is completely ordinary, but his voice carries so much energy that Jay can practically picture him bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Well— talk to you later? Uhm… new roomie." Jay instantly regrets saying that, however a delighted giggle comes through his phone. He ends the call before he can say anything else.

When Jay lowers his phone and stares at the screen for a moment, his eyebrows knit together. He's quite perplexed. That was... strangely easy. No questions, no hesitation, not even a second thought. Jake had agreed like he'd been waiting for Jay to make up his mind.

With a quiet exhale, Jay lets his head fall back against the pillow and covers his face with his arm.

Two hours later, somehow, Jake is sitting at Jay's dining table with the roommate lease spread out between them.

It was a very quick wrap-up, actually, much to Jay's surprise. He'd expected more questions, maybe a little back-and-forth, but Jake seems perfectly content with everything.

Jay slides the paperwork across the table along with a pen. "Just sign there, and then we're done."

Jake picks up the pen and does as Jay tells him. His name scribbled across the line in thick, oversized letters.

JAKE

Jay stares at the paper, mouth parting slightly before he quickly closes it again and looks over at Jake.

Did he just use print letters in place of a signature?

"So!" Jake practically beams. "Are we finally room-mates now?"

Something about the way he says it catches Jay's attention. There's an odd little pause between room and mate, with the second word receiving far more emphasis than it probably should.

"Aren't you... gonna write your last name too?"

Jake pauses, staring down at his signature as though the possibility has only just occurred to him.

"Ah." He nods quickly. "Yeah, yeah. Right."

He adds SIM underneath.

Jay watches him for another second before deciding not to question it. There are more important things to worry about.

"So, we should probably try and secure some movers for you, then. I've got some contacts that—"

"Not needed!"

Jake cuts him off so quickly that Jay blinks.

"Not needed?"

Jake reaches down beside his chair and grabs a simple plastic bag, one Jay doesn't remember seeing him bring in. It's a Walmart bag. Slightly crumpled, too. He places it on the table with the same confidence someone might have while unloading an entire moving truck.

Jay stares dumbstruck "...Is that it?"

Jake nods, smiling happily.

Inside the bag appears to be everything Jake intended to bring with him. Which, in reality, is barely anything.

And the thought makes Jay a little troubled.

Perhaps his new roommate is a runaway of some sort. Or homeless. Or both. It would certainly explain why Jake shows no hesitation about moving in and hasn't asked a single question about the apartment, the rent, or anything else.

Maybe he's just as desperate as Jay is.

Shit.

Does Jay feel bad for him?

His gaze drifts back to Jake, taking in the giddy expression on his face and that stupid, dopey smile stretched far too wide across it — all 32 teeth visible.

Jay's concern falters.

Wait. How the hell is this guy going to pay rent?

For the first few days, Jay tries not to think too much about his new roommate. It isn't particularly difficult. Jake is... quiet. Strangely quiet, actually. He doesn't make much noise, doesn't complain about anything, and seems perfectly content to keep to himself. Whenever Jay leaves for work, Jake is there. Whenever Jay comes home, Jake is usually somewhere in the apartment, sitting quietly on the couch or staring out the obstructed window. Jay isn't entirely sure what he does all day.

Out of curiosity, Jay asks him once. "What do you do for work?"

Jake looks at him for a good moment before giving a vague answer. "Stuff."

Jay waits for elaboration. None comes.

"Right."

That is as far as Jake is willing to go with that..

Jake is pretty secretive, but it isn't too bad. At least, that's what Jay tells himself. In reality, he's thought many times about what shady stuff Jake could be getting up to behind closed doors. However, Jake doesn't bother him at all and mostly keeps to himself, and Jay likes the space he gets.

For the first couple of days, Jay begins to think he might have actually gotten lucky. Jake is odd, sure, but at least he's quiet.

Then, sometime around the third day, something changes.

It starts small. Jake begins following him into the kitchen. Not in an obviously strange way. At first, Jay barely notices it. He gets up to make coffee, and a few minutes later, Jake appears in the doorway. Jay moves to the living room, and Jake eventually wanders in too. If Jay sits on the couch, Jake sits on the other end.

It's only when Jay gets up to grab something from the kitchen and returns to find Jake sitting in his exact spot that he starts to wonder.

"You're in my seat."

Jake looks up at him, completely unbothered. "Oh." He makes no effort to move, simply smiling at Jay when he stares at him.

"...Can you move?"

"No." His accent thick, the single word almost sounding more amused than anything.

Jay blinks. "Why?"

Jake's smile widens. "Well, you're here."

Jay stares at him for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell that's supposed to mean. Eventually, he sighs and sits down beside him instead.

That seems to satisfy Jake.

After that, things only get worse. Jake starts appearing beside him whenever he's doing anything. Cooking? Jake is leaning over his shoulder. Watching television? Jake is sitting so close their legs are touching. Making coffee? Jake is standing directly behind him, watching with an unsettling amount of interest, his curious eyes wide and round. Jay swears he's like a lost puppy sometimes, constantly hovering around him as though he's afraid Jay might disappear if he looks away for too long.

"Do you need something?" Jay finally asks one morning, turning around to find Jake practically hovering over him.

"No."

"Then why are you standing so close?"

Jake tilts his head. "Because you're here."

Jay frowns. "Yeah. I live here."

"So do I."

"Exactly."

Jake smiles brightly, as though Jay has just proven his point.

It's becoming increasingly difficult to understand this guy.

He's affectionate, too. Not in any way Jay expects from someone he's known for less than a week. Jake pats his shoulder when he walks past, leans against him while looking over his phone, or casually drapes an arm across the back of the couch behind him. Once, while Jay is trying to reach something on the top shelf, Jake simply wraps both arms around his waist and lifts him without warning and Jay nearly takes the shelf with him.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Helping." Jake pauses, considering him. "You're kinda heavy, though."

"Put me down!"

Jake immediately does, leaving Jay stumbling back onto his feet and staring at him in disbelief. Jake only smiles, a toothy little thing. "You're welcome."

Jay rubs a hand over his face. Is this guy trying to provoke him? Trying to poke fun at him and get a reaction out of Jay? Because what the hell else is he supposed to think?

This is not what he signed up for.

Still, Jay supposes it could be worse. At least Jake isn't doing anything particularly harmful. He's just... clingy. Weirdly, excessively, unnecessarily clingy. He decides he just has to learn to live with it.

Unfortunately, he doesn't get much time to adjust before his peaceful morning is interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

"Jay-ah!" A familiar voice shouts, and Jay closes his eyes, recognising it instantly.

When he opens the door, Sunghoon is standing in the hallway with some guy beside him, both of them surrounded by cardboard boxes. It must be Heeseung, judging by the hanging earring and the loose, comfortable street-wear he's wearing. Sunghoon told him Heeseung was a chill guy, and he definitely looks like it. But then Jay looks at the boxes, and then at Sunghoon.

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask."

"I have a pretty good idea."

Sunghoon flashes him a shameless grin. "Since we're neighbours and all, Jay, you have to maintain good connections with us."

"That's not how being neighbours works."

"It is today."

Jay sighs, but Sunghoon is already reaching for one of the boxes. "We just need a little help bringing these upstairs."

"A little?" Jay asks, looking past him at the growing pile. "That's an entire apartment."

"Mostly Heeseung's gaming setup," Sunghoon admits.

Heeseung gives an apologetic, slightly shy smile and shrugs. "I have a lot of stuff."

Jay mumbles something that sounds like, "Apparently."

And before Jay can protest any further, Sunghoon shoves a box into his arms. "Come on. We'll be quick."

Jay looks down at the box in his hands, then back at Sunghoon. He should say no. Instead, he sighs and starts walking.

Behind him, Jake quietly follows. He has been watching the entire exchange from the doorway and apparently decided that if Jay is helping, then he should help too. He picks up one of the boxes without asking what's inside and trails after them, looking perfectly content despite having absolutely no idea what he's doing or why, a small smile on his face.

They've barely made it halfway down the hallway when Sunghoon turns to Jake and casually mentions, "Oh, by the way, Heeseung's moving in today."

Jake stops dead in his tracks.

"He's what?"

Sunghoon glances back at him. "Moving in. He's my roommate now."

Jake's face lights up. The box in his hands slips abruptly to the floor with a heavy thud.

Jay winces. "I hope that wasn't anything fragile..."

Jake doesn't pay Jay any mind. He wipes his hand against his pants, practically beaming as he walks straight over to Sunghoon. Then, without warning, he grabs Sunghoon's hand between both of his and starts shaking it enthusiastically.

"Congratulations, Sunghoon!"

Sunghoon blinks. "Uh... thanks?"

Jake's smile only grows wider. "I'm so happy for you. Best wishes on this wonderful journey as you build your new lives together. Today is only the first cherished memory! May your new union bring even more moments of celebration and love!"

By the end of it, Jake is practically shouting.

Sunghoon looks completely wide-eyed and confused. So does Jay.

"Jake, I'm not—"

Jake doesn't seem to hear him. Instead, he hurriedly makes his way over to Jay and gives him a light smack on the shoulder, urging him to keep moving.

"Ow!" Jay lets out a yelp. "What was that for?"

"We need to hurry so that Sunghoon may settle in with his new roommate!"

Sunghoon finally cracks, chuckling at Jake's enthusiasm. He doesn't bother correcting him, apparently finding the whole ordeal far too hilarious to interrupt.

Jay, meanwhile, can only stare at Jake.

He has absolutely no idea what is going on in this guy's head.

By the time Jay makes it home from his shift, he's running almost entirely on autopilot. He's drenched in sweat. His legs ache from standing all day, his shoulders feel like they've been filled with lead, and all he wants is to collapse face-first onto the couch and not move again until morning.

Jay drags himself up the stairs, reaches the landing, and abruptly stops — the door to his apartment is wide open. For a moment, he just stands there, too tired to process what he's looking at. Then the exhaustion gives way to a brief surge of alarm. What the fuck? Did someone break in? Not that there would be anything worth stealing. Who the hell would even bother robbing a place like this? His head supplies.

He rushes to the open door, voice a little out of breath. "Hello?"

"Sup."

Jay pauses before stepping inside. Sunghoon, Heeseung and Jake are all sitting on the couch, looking perfectly comfortable. Confusion barely has time to settle before another sensation hits him — the smell. Something has been burned. Horribly. The entire apartment reeks of charred food, barely masked by what smells like half a can of Axe Body Spray, which somehow makes it even worse, aggressively invading its way into Jay's mouth to the point he ends up coughing.

"What the hell happened?"

Heeseung gestures vaguely towards the kitchen. "Jake tried to cook something."

Jay glances at Jake, who is suddenly very interested in the floor.

"I couldn't get it off the pan," Sunghoon explains, grabbing Jay's attention. "So it's soaking in the sink for now. Hopefully it can be salvaged."

Jay closes his eyes, letting his head droop as exhaustion settles heavily over him. His shirt is still damp with sweat, his feet are throbbing inside his shoes, and every muscle in his body is begging him to sit down.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

After an entire shift on his feet, apparently this is what he gets to come home to.

Sunghoon and Heeseung finally get up from the couch. Sunghoon lets out a loud, strained old-man groan as he stretches. "Aish... my back."

"You are so dramatic," Heeseung mutters, though the chuckle in his voice gives him away.

"From carrying your entire life upstairs."

"You carried three boxes of my gaming set-up."

"Heavy boxes."

Jay barely listens as they head for the door, but Heeseung pauses beside him, giving Jay a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before leaning closer. "Sunghoon joked about Jake getting a big scolding," he whispers, nodding towards the kitchen. "But I think Jake took it seriously."

Jake sits quietly on the couch, shoulders slightly hunched.

Heeseung gives Jay a light smile. "Go easy on him."

Before Jay can respond, Heeseung slips out the door after Sunghoon.

The apartment suddenly feels much quieter. Jay lets out a tired sigh and turns his attention back to Jake, who still hasn't moved from his spot.

"What happened?"

Jake lowers his head, frowning deeply. "I tried to make you some eggs before you got home from work."

"You... made me eggs?"

Jake nods, and something in Jay's expression softens despite himself. He hadn't expected that. Jake, for all his strange habits, had actually thought to make him something to eat after work. It was a surprisingly thoughtful gesture, and for a brief moment, Jay feels a little warmth settle in his chest.

"That's..." Jay pauses, unsure how to respond. "Actually kind of nice."

Jake's face looks a little relieved.

Then Jay catches sight of the pan in the sink.

Whatever warmth had been there quickly gives way to concern.

He walks into the kitchen and peers into the sink, only to find whatever had once been eggs now reduced to an almost entirely blackened mass fused to the bottom of the pan. The edges have burned into something resembling charcoal, and there is no obvious indication that this was ever food in the first place.

Jay's mouth falls open.

"How..." Jay reaches toward the sink, then stops. "I liked this pan!"

Jake's expression immediately falls. "Sorry."

"It was a gift from K." Jay rubs his face, staring at the blackened mess. "How did you even manage to burn them this badly? What were you doing?"

Jake hesitates. "I got distracted."

"By what?"

"I got a... phone call."

Jay pauses. "From Australia?"

"Australia?"

"Your family?"

Jake's mouth opens, then closes. "From someone."

Jay raises an eyebrow. "Well?"

Jake's fingers fidget together in his lap.

"Did something serious happen?" Jay asks. "Besides burning the food."

"Ah..." Jake takes a moment before quietly answering, "No."

Jay doesn't buy it. "Something happened."

"No."

"You don't look very..." Jay trails off, searching for the right word. "...normal."

Jake shifts slightly in his seat.

Jay sighs. "Is something bothering you?"

For a moment, Jake says nothing. Then, quietly, "It's a little complicated."

Something about the answer makes Jay pause. Jake doesn't sound defensive. If anything, he sounds like he genuinely has no idea how to explain whatever is going on.

Normally, Jay would probably push.

Tonight, however, he can barely keep his eyes open. Whatever Jake's mysterious phone call was about, Jay decides he doesn't have the energy to untangle it.

"Right."

He reaches into the sink and grabs the pan, flipping it upside down.

Jay pauses, then gives the pan another shake.

Nothing.

"Of course."

A long beat passes before Jay rubs his temples with his thumb and index finger, then walks to the trash can and drops the entire thing inside. The metal hits the bottom with a hollow clang.

Jake winces.

"Right." Jay points toward the bathroom. "Go grab an air freshener."

Jake immediately stands. "Okay."

"Otherwise I don't think I can possibly sleep tonight like this."

Jake disappears down the hallway.

Jay stays in the kitchen, listening to Jake rummage through the bathroom cabinets. For a moment, he wonders what could possibly have been so important that Jake forgot about the eggs entirely.

Then his aching feet remind him just how exhausted he is.

Whatever. Jake's business is his business. It's probably nothing worth worrying about.

A week passes, and whatever Jake had been talking about on the phone that night is eventually pushed to the back of Jay's mind. Between work, chores, trying to keep the apartment from falling apart, and figuring out how to stretch his already pathetic grocery budget until payday, there isn't much room left in his head for wondering about his roommate's mysterious phone calls anyway. Jay has other problems to deal with, like the fact that his salt is gone.

He stands in front of the kitchen cupboard, staring down at the empty container in his hand before turning it upside down and giving it a shake, as if somehow there might still be a few grains left at the bottom. Nothing. Jay frowns, distinctly remembering buying it less than two weeks ago, before turning toward the living room. "Jake."

From the couch comes a muffled, "Hm?"

"Did you use all the salt?"

There's a pause before Jake answers, completely unbothered. "Yes."

Jay slowly closes his eyes. "All of it?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Another pause, this one slightly longer. "I need it."

Jay turns around, already feeling a headache coming on, and finds Jake sitting comfortably on the couch with one of the plastic straws from Jay's dwindling supply resting between his teeth as he stares at whatever is playing on the television. "Right," Jay mutters, walking over to the coffee table and picking up the grocery list he'd started earlier that morning before looking from Jake to the list and holding it out toward him. "Seriously, you need to start adding stuff you need to the grocery list. As a roommate, you should be doing more stuff to help around here."

Jake pulls the straw from his mouth, looking a little surprised. "Oh. Okay."

"Come on."

He looks down at the list, then back at Jay. "Where?"

"The store."

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

Jake finally glances down at himself, apparently only now realizing that he's still in sweatpants and the oversized shirt Sunghoon had given him as a hand-me-down. He looks back up, his expression turning slightly uncertain. "Um... why?"

"Because apparently I'm the only person in this apartment capable of noticing when we're running out of things."

Jake looks mildly offended. "I notice."

"Then write it down."

He doesn't answer, and Jay takes that as his cue to grab his keys from the counter before pointing toward the straw still between Jake's fingers. "And stop chewing those."

Jake's eyes flick down to it, his expression suddenly looking almost confused. "...Why?"

"Because they're for drinking."

He looks at Jay for a long moment before his gaze drops, suddenly looking a little sheepish. "I know."

A few minutes later, Jay has managed to get Jake out of the apartment and down to the store, Jake makes sure to stop and stare at practically everything along the way.

The grocery store isn't particularly busy, which Jay appreciates because Jake has already managed to make the trip take twice as long as it should. It starts with the cereal, then the snacks, then Jake somehow spends five full minutes standing in front of the bottled water as though he's trying to decipher some ancient text, and by the time they finally make it to the household aisle, Jay is beginning to wonder if bringing him was a mistake.

He's halfway through comparing prices when he hears the unmistakable sound of plastic being shoved into the shopping cart and looks over to find Jake holding a package of plastic straws, then another, and then another.

Jay stares at the growing pile in his hands. "Why do you need so many?"

Jake looks down at them. "I use them?"

"For what?"

Jake's expression doesn't change. "...Drinking."

Jay looks from him to the packages and back again. "Those are forty-eight straws."

"Yeah."

"You bought some last week."

"I know."

"And you need another forty-eight?"

He merely shrugs, leaving Jay to stare at him for another moment before sighing. "Fine."

Almost immediately, another package disappears into the cart.

"Jake."

He slowly looks up,

"Put that one back."

"...Okay."

He does, and Jay turns back toward the shelves, deciding that maybe it's better not to ask, completely missing the way Jake quietly takes the package again the moment he's no longer looking. They continue through the aisles, adding the rest of their groceries to the cart before eventually making their way over to the fish counter. He stops in front of the display and looks over the selection, frowning at the prices before wrinkling his nose. "These aren't very fresh. Ugh, it's so difficult to find decent fish in this place."

Jake looks at the fish, then at Jay, but Jay doesn't notice, too busy checking the price tags. "We'll just get something else."

There's a moment of silence, and when Jay finally glances over, he finds Jake still staring at the display. "What?

"Nothing.

Jay gives him a suspicious look, but Jake only smiles, and somehow it's the least reassuring smile Jay has ever seen.

Several hours later, Jay is sitting on the couch when the front door finally opens, and he looks up from his phone only to nearly drop it. Jake stands in the doorway looking absolutely terrible, his sleeves rolled almost up to his shoulders despite both being completely soaked, mud splattered across his pants and shoes, bits of grass stuck to his clothes, and his hair looking like he's spent the entire afternoon losing a fight with the ground. In one hand, he's carrying Jay's mop bucket—the one Jay has owned for years and which Jake has apparently decided to borrow without asking

Jay slowly lowers his phone. "...What happened to you?"

"Nothing." Jake seems to only now become aware of the state he's in, his eyes dropping briefly toward his soaked sleeves and muddy clothes.

"You look like you got attacked by a swamp.

Jake offers no response, and before Jay can say anything else, something inside the bucket splashes. His attention immediately snaps toward it, and he sits upright. "What is that?"

"Fish," Jake announces proudly.

Jay leans forward, only to find several very much alive fish writhing around inside the bucket, one of them suddenly flopping hard against the side and making his stomach turn. "Why are they alive?"

Jake sounds genuinely confused by the question. "Because they're fish."

"No, I mean—why are they here?"

"You said the fish weren't fresh."

"What?"

Jake adjusts his grip on the bucket. "I got fresh ones."

Jay takes a moment to process that, his attention moving from the fish to the muddy state of Jake's clothes and back again. "Where did you get those?"

There's a brief hesitation. "Outside."

"Outside where?"

Silence.

One of Jake's quirks, which Jay has recently started noticing, is that whenever he doesn't know how to answer something—or simply doesn't want to—he has a tendency to fall completely silent and wait for the subject to disappear on its own.

"Jake."

Instead of answering, Jake suddenly finds something very interesting about the wall, and that's when Jay notices the red smear across his thumb. He reaches out, catching Jake by the wrist and pulling his hand closer. "What's this?"

"Oh." Jake examines his thumb.

"What happened?"

"I used it."

Jay's eyebrows draw together. "For what?"

"The fish."

He waits, but apparently that's the entire explanation. Jake remains completely silent for another moment before finally adding, almost as an afterthought, "...It worked."

Jay releases his wrist and pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a long moment to decide whether he even wants to ask what the hell that means. "Okay." He points toward the bucket. "Grab it."

Jake blinks. "Why?"

"We're going."

"Where?"

"To put them back."

Jake's face falls, but neither of them says much on the way to the bus stop, Jake remaining stubbornly sulky while Jay tries not to think too hard about the fact that he's currently carrying a bucket full of illegally caught fish through public transport. By the time they board, Jay is already exhausted.

He sits rigidly in his seat with the bucket wedged between his legs, a rag thrown over the top in a desperate attempt to hide what is very obviously a bucket full of live fish. The rag is soaked through within minutes, and Jay keeps glancing around the bus every few seconds to make sure nobody has noticed. Jake sits beside him, still muddy, still sulking, and somehow still doesn't seem to understand why Jay is so upset.

"Stop looking at them," Jay whispers.

Jake's attention drops toward the bucket. "I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm checking."

"Stop checking."

With a sigh, he leans back, apparently deciding to leave the fish alone, and Jay finally lets himself relax for approximately three seconds before the bucket suddenly shifts beneath his legs.

"Jesus Christ."

He grabs it with both hands, trying desperately to keep it steady as something thrashes beneath the soaked rag. Jake reaches over to help. "I can hold it."

"No."

"It's heavy."

"I don't care."

Another violent splash comes from beneath the rag, and Jay closes his eyes, wondering briefly how this has somehow become his life.

By the time they reach the water, he's exhausted all over again. He crouches beside the edge and carefully removes the rag, immediately revealing several fish writhing around in the bucket before he mutters, "Okay. Come on," and tips it toward the water. One by one, they slide free and disappear beneath the surface, and Jay watches until the last one swims away before finally releasing a long, relieved breath.

"Finally."

"Angh!"

Something bumps against his shoulder, and Jay jerks around to find Jake baring his teeth in a ridiculous imitation of a bite, his whole expression scrunched up in obvious annoyance. "What the hell?"

"Angh."

"Did you just try to bite me?"

Jake crosses his arms, apparently still offended by the loss of his fish, and Jay stares at him for a moment before reaching out and giving his ear a light tug. A small, wounded whimper immediately escapes him.

Jay lets go. "Never do that again."

Jake rubs his ear, looking even more offended, but Jay simply points at him. "Look, I don't know how you did it back in Australia, but here you fish in specific legal spots with a legal fishing permit." He pauses, giving Jake a pointed look before adding, "And you don't use my mop bucket."

Jake's only response is to turn his attention elsewhere, and he doesn't say another word for the entire walk back to the bus stop. Judging by the deep pout settling over his face, Jay suspects he's going to remain sulky for the entire bus ride home, too.

He isn't.

By the time they get home, Jake has apparently recovered enough to rummage through the grocery bags, complain about being hungry, and spend the rest of the evening chewing through yet another plastic straw like nothing had happened. Jay doesn't bother bringing up the fish again, mostly because he doesn't want to think about it, and the incident eventually joins the growing pile of strange things Jake has done that Jay has decided are simply not worth questioning.

Then, one particularly cold night, Jay finds himself dealing with an entirely different problem.

The heating in the apartment has always been terrible, something Jay learned to live with long before Jake moved in. The whole building seems determined to remain just a few degrees above freezing during the colder months, which is probably one of the reasons the rent is on the cheaper side, but Jay has prepared for it over the years with thick blankets, warm socks, and enough layers to make sleeping through the night relatively comfortable. Jake, apparently, has not. There was no way he could have known what the place was like beforehand, especially considering how little he'd actually brought with him when he moved in, so in hindsight, it probably isn't surprising that he's freezing.

Jay is already half-asleep when the mattress suddenly dips beside him.

His eyes crack open, but for several seconds he doesn't move, too tired to properly process why the hell there is another person getting into his bed. Then the mattress shifts again as Jake shuffles closer, and Jay's brain finally catches up with what is happening.

"Dude, what are you doing?"

"My room is cold. I'm cold."

Jay blinks at him, still trying to process the fact that his roommate has apparently decided his bed is communal property. "Yeah, because the heating in this place is shit. That's why the rent's cheaper."

Jake doesn't answer. Instead, he simply settles further beneath the blankets, looking so miserable that Jay's irritation falters almost immediately. There is something different about him tonight, something subdued that Jay hasn't really seen before, and despite himself, a small flicker of concern begins to replace his confusion.

"What?" Jay asks, his voice softening. "What is it?"

"Nothin'." Jake's voice is quieter now, accent even thicker when he's sleepy, his attention dropping toward the blankets. "Just... feels a bit out of place."

Jay frowns, not entirely sure what he's supposed to make of that, but something about Jake's expression makes him hesitate. He looks almost like a sad puppy, and for the first time since Jake moved in, there's something genuinely vulnerable about him sitting there beside Jay in the dark.

"Do you miss Australia?" Jay asks after a moment. "Like... your family back home?"

Jake's eyes widen slightly before drifting away, and for a moment he seems to be searching for an answer. Eventually, he gives a small nod.

"Yeah," he finally murmurs. "Somethin' like that."

Jay falls quiet.

It occurs to him then that he really doesn't know much about Jake at all. He doesn't know how long he's actually been in America, or what made him leave Australia in the first place, or whether he came here alone. He doesn't know if Jake's parents support him, whether they keep in touch, or if there is anyone back home waiting to hear from him. There are so many questions he could ask, but none of them feel right in this moment, and Jay gets the distinct feeling that pushing any further would mean breaking through the wall he’s been carefully keeping intact since the day they met.

So, instead, he lets this small slip of his more caring nature show.

"Fine. You can stay here." Jay pauses, already regretting the decision before he's even finished making it. "Only for the night."

Jake's entire expression brightens.

The smile that spreads across his face is almost blinding, and although his eyes still carry that faint sadness and distance, there's also a small spark of genuine appreciation that makes Jay's chest feel strangely warm.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah. Just go to sleep."

Jay closes his eyes again, deciding he'll deal with the consequences of this decision in the morning.

Unfortunately, morning has a few surprises waiting for him.

Mostly because, when Jay sobers up a little, Jake is no longer simply lying beside him. At some point during the night, Jake has apparently decided that personal space is optional, one leg securely wrapped around Jay's waist while the rest of him is practically curled around his entire body, taking up far more of the bed than one person has any right to. Jay's eyes are sticky with sleep and his vision is blurry when he first wakes, forcing him to blink several times before he can properly make sense of the warm weight currently pressed against him.

Jake's hair is an absolute mess, sticking out wildly in every direction, and two particularly stubborn strands are standing so straight up that, in his half-awake state, Jay briefly thinks they look like something else entirely. There's also a faint greenish tint to them, although Jay is far too tired to question it.

He blinks again.

No.

Just hair.

Whatever.

Jay lets his eyes fall shut again. He's not used to having this much warmth around him, and despite the uncomfortable position and the fact that Jake is practically wrapped around his entire body, it's surprisingly difficult to convince himself to move.

He'll complain about it later.

When he's more conscious.

Somehow, Jake sleeping in his bed doesn't end up being nearly as awkward as Jay expected it to be. Jake never directly asks to do it again, but whenever the apartment gets cold, he tends to linger around Jay until an extra blanket eventually gets tossed his way, and after a while, Jay stops thinking much of it. He simply does it without question, which is perhaps a little strange considering Jake still has very little understanding of personal space, but somewhere along the way, Jay has started adjusting to his habits without even realizing it.

At this point, it's becoming increasingly difficult to tell where Jake's complete disregard for personal space ends and Jay's growing tolerance for it begins, and honestly, Jay isn't sure he wants to think about that too closely. It isn't necessarily a bad thing. Jake is just... a lot.

He's always there, always hovering nearby, always eager to greet Jay whenever he comes home from work, and seemingly incapable of understanding when Jay needs a little time to himself. After spending hours at the Lamb's Garden, Jay sometimes feels like the last thing he wants is another person immediately demanding his attention, even if that person is only excited to see him.

A week or so later, Jay decides he needs a break.

Not from work and not from his apartment, but rather from Jake.

So, for the first time in months, he agrees to meet Sunghoon at the gym, passing it off as nothing more than an excuse to hang out with his friend when, in reality, he's mostly looking forward to spending a few hours somewhere Jake isn't.

It's not that Jay dislikes his roommate. If anything, he's grown surprisingly accustomed to having Jake around, but lately, Jake has started becoming a little too much to handle, especially with how openly affectionate and touchy he can be. There's only so much enthusiasm, constant attention, and complete disregard for personal space Jay can take before he starts feeling overwhelmed, and right now, he just needs a little time away from it all.

Especially after what happened a few days earlier.

Jay had come home from another particularly shitty shift at the restaurant, already exhausted and overheated after spending hours trapped in the poorly ventilated kitchen, where the combination of steaming pans, blazing grills, and barely functioning ventilation turned the entire place into something closer to a sauna than a workplace. His shirt clung uncomfortably to his back, damp strands of hair stuck to his forehead, and by the time he finally made it through the front door, all he wanted was a shower, something cold to drink, and a few minutes where nobody expected anything from him.

Naturally, Jake was there to greet him.

The moment Jay stepped inside, Jake practically bounded over with the same enthusiasm of a dog welcoming its owner home after being left alone all day, immediately crowding into his space and peppering him with questions about his shift before Jay had even managed to put his things down. He was standing far too close, as usual, but Jay was too tired to bother telling him to move.

Then Jake noticed the lingering sweat across Jay's forehead.

Before Jay could react, he leaned forward and licked it away.

Jay froze.

Jake didn't seem to think anything of it.

If anything, he looked perfectly content, as though he'd done some perfectly ordinary, while Jay stood there trying to figure out whether he'd actually felt a tongue against his forehead or if exhaustion had finally driven him insane.

Which is how Jay finds himself sitting on a bench at the gym a few days later, still apparently unable to let the incident go.

"And then I felt something wet on my forehead!" he says, his voice rising as the memory comes back to him. "Like, I think he actually licked me. Like, with his tongue."

Sunghoon turns his face away, pressing his lips together as a laugh threatens to escape. He knows better than to laugh outright when Jay is already worked up, especially after everything he's been complaining about lately.

"You know," he says, carefully keeping his voice neutral, "I heard people kiss each other's cheeks as a greeting in Europe. Maybe Australians have something similar?"

"He licked my forehead!" Jay protests, his voice rising with disbelief.

Sunghoon finally lets out a small snort before quickly covering it with a cough. "Jake does seem to drool a lot. Maybe it was just... a really enthusiastic forehead smooch."

"I know what I felt—" Jay cuts himself off, his expression suddenly shifting as he catches onto the wording. "Wait. Why would Jake give me a smoo—"

Sunghoon takes the opportunity to steer the conversation elsewhere. "I think you're scrutinizing him a little too much. He isn't loud, he pays his rent on time..."

"His personality is loud," Jay immediately counters. "And besides, the first time he paid rent, he handed me the entire thing in dollar bills."

Sunghoon pauses mid-movement, his hands going still as he slowly turns his attention back toward Jay.

"One-dollar bills."

"Yeah. All of it." Jay shakes his head, as though he's still baffled by the memory. "Just a massive stack of them."

Sunghoon's eyebrows rise. "Were they counterfeit?"

"I had them checked. No, Hoon." Jay lowers his voice, suddenly sounding much more serious as he leans a little closer. "But what if he's, like, a dealer or something? I don't even know what Jake does for work. He disappears for hours sometimes, there's something weird about that guy."

Sunghoon gives him a flat look before turning back to what he was doing. "Well, at least he pays rent on time."

Jay gives him a flat look, unimpressed by what Sunghoon considers a valid defence.

"Your standards are really low..."

There’s a brief pause.

"So... what are you actually going to do about it?"

"Nothing," Jay mutters.

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

Jay opens his mouth, then closes it again. Somehow, saying 'Please stop licking me' out loud feels significantly more embarrassing than it should.

"I'll just... avoid it."

"Avoid what?"

“I don’t know.” Jay hesitates. “His face.”

Sunghoon snorts. “That’s going to be a little difficult. You live together.”

Unfortunately, he has a point.

Jay spends the next few days proving it.

He does, in fact, attempt to avoid Jake.

It sounds simple enough in theory. Get up before him. Make coffee quickly. Leave for work without lingering. Come home, say as little as possible, and retreat to his room before Jake has a chance to appear out of nowhere.

In practice, it goes about as well as everything else involving Jake.

No matter how carefully Jay times his mornings, Jake is already in the kitchen when he shuffles in for coffee. If Jay comes home from work and makes a beeline for the couch, Jake is already there. If he tries to sneak down the hallway without being noticed, Jake somehow appears at the other end of it, standing there like he's been waiting.

By Friday, Jay has mostly resigned himself to keeping his distance and pretending nothing strange is happening. If Jake wants to stare at the wall for three hours or chew through another plastic straw, that's his business. Jay doesn't need to know about it. He just needs to make it through the day without getting involved.

A faint buzz rattles against his pocket. Jay fishes out his phone and glances at the screen.

Sunghoon: come over

Jay stares at the message. His thumb hovers over the keyboard.

Jay: why

Sunghoon: just come over

A second message follows before Jay can even decide whether to answer.

Sunghoon: hee is here too

Jay's expression falls. How is that any better? He types out a response, stares at it for a second, then deletes the whole thing and locks his phone instead. Whatever Sunghoon is planning, involving Heeseung is almost certainly going to make it ten times more annoying.

Still, Jake is safely occupied back at the apartment, which means Jay can at least escape for an hour or two without having to worry about accidentally running into him. With a quiet sigh, he slips his phone back into his pocket. Fine. He can spare an hour.

It doesn't take long before Jay is standing at their door. He barely gets a chance to knock before Sunghoon opens it.

“Finally.”

Jay steps over the threshold, immediately narrowing his eyes. Sunghoon's smile is toothy, his rather prominent canines on full display.

“What?” Jay asks, eyeing him warily.

“Nothing.”

Jay knows that smile means something bad. His suspicion only grows when he spots Heeseung sprawled across the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest. The moment Heeseung notices him, his mouth curls into an equally suspicious grin.

“Hey, Jay.”

Jay glances between them, his hand still hovering near the door. “Why are you both looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Heeseung asks, feigning innocence.

“Like that.” Jay points between the two of them, his voice wavering slightly.

“We were just talking about you.”

Jay freezes halfway through taking off his shoes. “That's worse.”

Sunghoon snickers and steps aside, gesturing for him to come further inside. “Come on. Sit down. We have an idea.”

“I don't like the sound of that.”

“You haven't even heard it yet.”

“I know you.”

Sunghoon presses a hand to his chest, looking wounded. “That hurts.”

Jay rolls his eyes and reluctantly makes his way further inside, dropping onto the opposite end of the couch. Heeseung shifts to make room, though the amused look on his face doesn't disappear for a second. Jay looks between them expectantly. “So?”

Sunghoon settles into the armchair opposite him, leaning forward. “We were talking.”

“Clearly.”

“And we thought…” He deliberately lets the sentence trail off.

Jay's eyes narrow. “What?”

“A fishing trip.”

There is a long, baffled pause.

“A what?”

“A fishing trip,” Heeseung repeats, lifting one shoulder in a lazy shrug as though that somehow explains everything.

Jay blinks at him. “Why?”

“Why not?” Sunghoon says.

“Because I don't fish.”

“Neither do we.” Sunghoon motions between himself and Heeseung.

Jay's eyebrows pinch together. “Then why are we going?”

“Because it could be fun.”

Jay turns toward Heeseung, silently appealing to him for a more reasonable explanation. Heeseung only grins and stretches his legs out further across the couch. “We figured you could use a day off.”

Jay's eyes narrow. “Including Jake?”

“Obviously.”

Of course.

Sunghoon rests his elbows on his knees. “All of us are going. Me, Hee, Riki…” He pauses, watching Jay's expression. “And Jake.”

“You invited my roommate?”

“Well, yeah. Of course.” Sunghoon scoffs at the question. “We're trying to help.”

“Help with what?”

Neither of them answers right away. Heeseung's grin slowly widens.

“Your delusions.”

Jay's jaw drops. “I don't have delusions.”

Sunghoon immediately breaks into laughter, dropping his head as he tries to get himself under control. “You told me he doesn't sweat, drinks a lot of salt, sleeps weird, stares at walls, chews on plastic straws like a psycho, and apparently—” He has to pause, wiping at the corner of his eye. “—tries to catch fish with his bare hands.”

Jay points at him, incredulous. “That is not a delusion. That's a genuine concern! I literally don't even have any fishing equipment at my place! He tried to fish with his bare hands! That's illegal! We could've been fined!”

“Now I really wanna see Jake fish with his bare hands,” Sunghoon confesses between breathless laughs.

Heeseung's laughter rumbles from the couch, and Jay shoots him an offended look. “You know,” Heeseung says, still grinning, “I'm starting to think you two just need to spend some quality time together.”

Jay's eyebrows shoot up. “We spend every day together.”

“Exactly.”

“That doesn't mean I like it.”

“Didn't say you did.”

Jay opens his mouth, ready with another retort, but catches Sunghoon glancing sideways at Heeseung. It's quick—barely a second—but there's something unmistakable in the look. Sunghoon's lips twitch, and Heeseung answers with the faintest lift of his eyebrows, like they've just silently agreed on something.

Jay looks between them. “What?”

“Nothing.” Heeseung waves a dismissive hand, his grin doing absolutely nothing to make him look innocent.

“You're doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“That.” Jay gestures vaguely between them. “Whatever that is.”

Heeseung tilts his head, studying Jay with an amused glint in his eyes. “We just think a fishing trip might be good for you two.”

Jay folds his arms across his chest, sinking back into the cushions. “How?”

“You could talk.”

“We talk.”

“You could bond.”

“We live together.”

“You could watch Jake fish.”

Jay's expression goes flat.

Sunghoon immediately bursts out laughing.

“I'm serious!” Heeseung defends, though his grin only gets wider.

“You're both insane,” Jay retorts.

“Maybe.” Heeseung settles deeper into the couch, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “But you've definitely made me curious now.”

Jay's eyes narrow. “About what?”

Heeseung's grin returns. “So, like…” He pauses, clearly enjoying himself far too much. “How many fish did he actually manage to catch using only his hands?””

Jay burns daggers into Heeseung's stupid hanging earring.

Sunghoon is already laughing again, practically folding in on himself.

Apparently, somewhere along the way, this stopped being an intervention and became entertainment.

And Jay has a horrible feeling he knows exactly who the entertainment is going to be—and, more importantly, at whose expense.

Come Friday morning, the fishing trip has somehow gone from a ridiculous suggestion to an actual weekend plan, and Jay isn't entirely sure when that happened. One minute, Sunghoon and Heeseung had been laughing at him from opposite ends of the couch, insisting that a weekend away would be good for him and Jake, and the next, his phone had been buzzing incessantly with notifications from a group chat he has no recollection of joining. When he finally opens it, there are already dozens of messages waiting for him, most of which seem to suggest that the trip has been planned in its entirety without his input. Riki and Heeseung have been arguing over what other activities they should do while they're there, Sunghoon has sent a picture of a collection of fishing rods that were presumably borrowed from somewhere, Heeseung has asked what everyone wants for breakfast, and apparently someone has already reserved a cabin and decided where everyone is sleeping.

Jay scrolls through the messages in growing disbelief, his thumb slowing as he realizes just how much has already been decided before anyone bothered to tell him, until he finally lowers his phone and looks around the room. "When did I agree to this?"

As if summoned by the question, another message pops up.

Riki: jay ur cooking btw

Jay stares at the screen in disbelief.

Jay: excuse me?

Sunghoon: culinary degree

Riki: that makes u our personal chef

Jay lets out a quiet, humourless laugh, sinking further into the couch as he types.

Jay: that's not how that works

Riki: it kinda is

Heeseung: you can cook whatever we catch, it'll be fun lol

Jay: I wasn't even asked if I wanted to go

Sunghoon: you're already in the gc

Apparently, that's all the argument anyone needs.

As for the snacks, Riki has confidently announced that he'll bring some for the drive, but that's about the extent of anyone's preparation. Nobody seems particularly concerned about what they'll actually eat once they're out there, which Jay finds especially concerning considering that, according to the group chat, they're apparently relying on fishing to provide the rest of their food. After all, how hard can it possibly be to catch enough fish for five people?

Fish that Jay will apparently have to cook for five people.

His eye twitches.

He spends the next ten minutes packing with the grim resignation of someone preparing for a very specific kind of disaster, shoving clothes into his bag while trying to convince himself that it could be worse. At least the cabin has a kitchen. That's something. He can work with a kitchen. He can make do with whatever they catch, assuming they actually catch anything at all.

He can also work with Jake, presumably.

Probably.

Jake, meanwhile, seems inexplicably excited about the whole thing. When Jay finally emerges from his room with his bag slung over one shoulder, Jake is already waiting by the door with his own things packed, wearing a hoodie despite the weather being warmer than necessary, his hair still slightly messy from sleep and his eyes bright with an unmistakable spark of anticipation.

"Ready, Jay?" he asks, shifting his bag higher onto his shoulder.

Jay gives him a look. "I don't know how I got wrapped into this. I don't even know how to fish."

"It'll be fine," Jake says, apparently having complete faith in a situation Jay considers increasingly questionable. His smile widens, and for a moment, Jay gets the distinct impression that Jake is barely containing his excitement. He tilts his head, curiously, like a puppy. "It'll be fun, at least. You don't think so?"

"We'll see." Jay shrugs, reaching for the door, his own enthusiasm for the trip considerably less convincing than Jake's.

The drive to the cabin turns out to be louder than Jay expects. Riki and Heeseung spend most of the journey arguing over music in the backseat while Sunghoon drives, their voices rising and falling behind him as they debate songs with the kind of intensity that seems wildly disproportionate to the situation. Jay claims the front passenger seat before anyone else can get to it, specifically so he doesn't have to spend several hours sitting beside Jake, and judging by the small frown on Jake's face when he climbs into the backseat, he isn't particularly pleased about it. Still, the sulking doesn't last long. They don't even get very far out of town, before Jake presses himself against the window, watching the scenery pass by with the same fascinated expression he seems to wear whenever they're somewhere unfamiliar, his eyes following every new building and stretch of countryside as though he's seeing something completely extraordinary.

Eventually, the steady hum of the car and the warmth inside it get the better of Jake, and he drifts off with his forehead resting against the window. Jay only notices when he glances into the rearview mirror and finds him completely asleep, his face squished slightly against the glass and his hair falling messily across his forehead. By the time Jake wakes again, there's a faint red mark running across his cheek, and he blinks sleepily at his surroundings for several seconds as though he doesn't remember where he is. His eyes eventually settle on the back of Jay's head, and after a moment of hesitation, he leans forward from the backseat and gives the fabric of Jay's shirt a small tug, just enough to get his attention.

Jay glances over his shoulder. "What?"

Jake looks out the window again, there's drool in the corner of his mouth and he's still visibly hazy from his nap, his eyelids heavy and his thoughts seemingly taking a second longer than usual to form. Then, with complete sincerity, he asks, "Are we still in America?"

A snort immediately comes from the backseat.

Jake twists around, his brows furrowing as he looks at Riki, who is sitting in the middle. "What?"

"Nothing," Riki says, already grinning as he tries to suppress another laugh. "You're just funny."

Jake stares at him for a second, apparently trying to figure out what exactly was funny about his question, before his expression slowly softens into a smile. "Oh."

He settles back into his seat with a dopey little grin, seemingly pleased by the compliment despite having absolutely no idea what prompted it.

That is enough encouragement for Riki to start asking him to say random words, apparently just to hear his accent. Which is heavier and much more noticeable when Jake is drowsy. Jake obediently repeats every word he's given without a hint of suspicion, completely unaware that he's become the car's entertainment, and whenever Riki asks him to repeat something, he does so with the same earnest concentration as though he's been given a genuinely important task. Sunghoon eventually joins in from the driver's seat, laughing every time Jake draws out a vowel differently from him, and before long even Heeseung is chiming in with words for Jake to pronounce. Jake seems more than happy to participate, his sleepy expression gradually giving way to amusement as he tries to figure out why everyone keeps laughing, although every time he asks, they only laugh harder.

Jay can't help the faint smile that settles on his face as he listens to them, their laughter making the cramped car feel strangely comfortable. He only realizes he's smiling when he catches his own reflection in the window, and immediately looks away, focusing instead on the scenery rushing past outside.

It's nothing. They're just being idiots, and somehow that's enough to make him forget about everything else for a little while.

The cabin sits at the edge of a lake surrounded by dense trees, secluded enough that Jay can barely see another building through the gaps in the branches from the porch. It's rustic without crossing over into uncomfortable, with a small but functional kitchen, a living room crowded around an old stone fireplace, with fewer bedrooms but since the sleeping arrangements were planned in advance, it's fine.

Jay watches from the doorway as Riki drops his bag onto one of the beds with an immediate, triumphant, "Called it."

"You didn't call anything," Heeseung says from behind him.

"I was first."

"You physically threw your bag on it."

"Exactly." Riki looks entirely satisfied with himself, as though he's just won an argument that was never actually happening.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes and disappears upstairs before the argument can escalate, with Jake following a moment later, apparently curious about where everyone is sleeping and more than happy to investigate the cabin while the others sort themselves out. That leaves Jay standing in the middle of the living room with his own bag still hanging from his hand, staring at the fireplace, the mismatched furniture, and the general chaos already beginning to settle into the space before finally looking toward Heeseung.

"This was a mistake."

Heeseung pats him on the shoulder as he walks past, completely unfazed. "You'll have fun."

Jay watches him disappear after the others, unconvinced.

For the first hour, he's proven right.

Fishing turns out to be considerably less exciting when absolutely nobody knows what they're doing. They sit along the edge of the lake with their rods cast into the water, all five of them staring expectantly at their lines as though sheer concentration might somehow convince the fish to bite. The afternoon sun warms Jay's shoulders while the occasional breeze ripples across the surface of the lake, but despite the peaceful surroundings, their little group is met with nothing but increasingly embarrassing failure. Riki manages to catch a branch and spends several minutes insisting it had "definitely moved," Sunghoon somehow loses one of his hooks, and Heeseung gets his line tangled around his own shoe badly enough that he has to ask Jay for help getting free.

Jake, however, seems perfectly content with this arrangement, sitting in his chair with his knees drawn up and his fishing rod resting loosely between his hands as he watches the surface of the water with an intensity that makes Jay wonder if he's genuinely trying to hypnotize the fish into swimming over. He barely moves, barely blinks, and seems completely unaffected by the passage of time.

"You know you actually have to move the rod sometimes," Jay tells him eventually, mostly because he can't stand watching him sit there anymore.

Jake glances over at him, his expression still perfectly calm. "I'm waiting."

"For what?"

"The fish."

Jay stares at him for a moment, but Jake only looks back with complete sincerity, as though this is the most obvious answer in the world. "That's not how fishing works, Jake."

Jake considers that, his brows drawing together slightly as he looks back toward the lake. "Okay." He settles his chin against his knees and returns his attention to the water without making even the slightest attempt to change what he's doing.

Jay watches the back of his head for another few seconds before letting out a long sigh and sinking deeper into his chair, his own rod resting uselessly against his leg. He should have known better than to expect anything about this weekend to go smoothly.

This is going to be a long weekend.

Their combined fishing efforts have produced exactly two fish. Jay stands in the cabin kitchen staring down at them on the cutting board, his knife resting beside the pathetic little catch as he slowly takes stock of the situation. There are five people in this cabin. Five people who presumably expect to eat. Two fish, even if they're decent-sized, are not going to solve that problem. He looks toward the others with the expression of someone silently begging them to realize the obvious.

"There are five of us."

Riki is leaning against the counter with a bag of chips tucked beneath one arm, looking far too pleased with himself for someone whose greatest contribution to the fishing expedition was catching a branch. He glances down at the fish, thinks about it for a moment, and shrugs. "We can cut them into smaller pieces."

Jay gives him a flat stare. "Into what? Confetti?"

Riki immediately bursts out laughing, nearly choking on his chips, while Jake leans over the counter to get a better look at the fish, his face brightening with genuine interest.

"Can we eat them?"

"Yes," Riki answers for Jay, grinning at him.

"Nice!"

Jay looks at Jake, then back at the two fish. "You're very optimistic."

"I like fish."

"Of course you do."

With no other viable options, Jay gets to work, cleaning and preparing the fish while the others scatter around the cabin. Heeseung settles onto the couch with his phone, Riki and Sunghoon head outside, and Jake wanders in and out of the kitchen every few minutes, never quite staying long enough for Jay to ask what he's doing but never disappearing for long enough that Jay forgets he's there. Eventually, while reaching for something on the counter, Jay notices Jake preparing his water bottle out of the corner of his eye.

Jake pulls a small plastic bag from his things, tips a pinch of something into his bottle, and screws the lid back on.

Jay pauses mid-chop, and so does everyone else.

Sunghoon, who has just come back inside and is halfway through opening a protein bar, slowly lowers it as he watches Jake give the bottle a shake.

"Is that salt?"

Jake looks at him. "Yeah."

There's a brief silence as Sunghoon stares at him, clearly trying to decide whether he's missing something obvious. "Does that actually have any health benefits? Why do you do that?"

Jake takes a moment to think about the question before giving a small nod. It's kind of unconvincing because Jake looks a little clueless himself.

Sunghoon seems almost thrown off by it, but Heeseung is already reaching for his phone, his brows climbing higher as he scrolls through whatever search results he's found.

"Wow. Wait. It does?"

Sunghoon leans over to see the screen, and Heeseung reads for another second before a grin slowly spreads across his face. "Apparently it helps with bowel movement." He nudges Sunghoon with his elbow, clearly delighted with what he's found. "Maybe it'll help with your issues, Hoon."

Sunghoon freezes with his protein bar hovering inches from his mouth, the tips of his ears turning red almost instantly. For a second, he just stares at Heeseung in stunned silence before abruptly launching the protein bar toward Riki, who has been snickering from the other side of the room. Riki catches it against his chest and immediately starts laughing.

"Don't laugh," Sunghoon warns, pointing accusingly at him, which only makes Riki laugh harder.

Jake, meanwhile, watches the entire exchange with a blank expression, his eyes moving from Heeseung to Sunghoon to Riki as though he's trying to figure out what part of the conversation he's somehow missed. After a moment, apparently deciding it doesn't matter, he simply holds his bottle out toward Sunghoon.

"You want some?"

Sunghoon looks at him, then at the bottle, then back at Jake, his face somehow getting even redder. "Okay."

Sunghoon snatches the bottle from Jake, but before taking a sip, he notices the bite marks around the straw. It's really gross actually. He pauses, staring at it for a moment before slowly looking up at Jake, holding the thoroughly chewed straw between two fingers. “Jake. What is wrong with you?”

Heeseung starts laughing from the couch, Riki is practically folded over himself again, and even Jay has to turn away for a second, pressing his lips together to hide the grin threatening to give him away. Jake looks between all of them, face flushed, his brows knitting together as he tries to understand why everyone suddenly finds him so amusing.

Sunghoon takes a sip, his face immediately twisting at the salty taste before he pushes the bottle back toward Jake. "Yeah, no. You can keep that."

As the fishing trip drags on, their luck remains impressively terrible. They've spent hours sitting around the lake with their rods cast into the water and haven't caught a single fish, while their supply of snacks has been disappearing at an alarming rate, leaving five increasingly hungry people staring at an empty stretch of water and wondering how much longer they're supposed to keep this up. Eventually, Riki seems to reach his limit, pushing himself out of his chair with a sigh as he looks toward the cabin. "We need to go into town."

Jay glances up from where he's been sorting through what remains of their food. "We?"

"Me and Jake." Riki is already reaching for his jacket as he says it, and Jake immediately perks up at the mention of his name, looking between them with renewed interest.

"Oh, okay."

The two of them disappear before anyone can object, leaving Jay to assume they'll be gone for twenty minutes at most. He doesn't think much of it until nearly an hour later, when the front door finally swings open and Riki and Jake return carrying enough bags to feed everyone for another week. Riki drops them onto the kitchen counter with a proud grin, looking far too pleased with himself as he announces, "We got supplies."

"Supplies?" Jay repeats, eyeing the mountain of plastic bags suspiciously.

"Snacks."

Jay starts unpacking them and quickly discovers that Riki's definition of supplies is apparently very generous. Chips, chocolate, crackers, drinks, gummy sweets, and an almost obscene amount of sour gummy strips spill across the counter, the collection looking less like emergency food and more like the contents of a convenience store after a particularly successful robbery. Jake immediately reaches for one of the bags of sour gummy strips.

"These are mine." He says, smiling brightly.

Riki laughs, and Jay watches the exchange for a moment with quiet disbelief. Somehow, in the span of a single afternoon, the two of them have apparently gone from barely knowing each other to acting like they've been friends for years, and Jay isn't entirely sure whether he should be impressed or concerned.

Before he can decide, Riki reaches into one of the remaining bags and pulls out something folded, turning toward Jay with a grin that immediately makes him suspicious.

"Here, Jay."

He tosses it across the counter, and Jay catches it automatically, only for his expression to fall as soon as he unfolds it. It's an atrocious apron, the front covered in enormous letters that proudly proclaim 'This Is What An Awesome Wife Looks Like', accompanied by a pair of cartoon thumbs pointing toward whoever happens to be wearing it.

Jay slowly raises his head, staring at Riki in speechless disbelief. "What is this...?"

Riki is already laughing, while Jake watches with an unmistakably pleased expression, looking between Jay and the apron as though he's genuinely curious about his reaction. "Do you like it?"

"I absolutely do not."

Riki nudges Jake with his elbow. "He likes it." Jake looks at Jay expectantly, and Jay can only stare back at him, waiting for a question of sorts, but instead Jake gives a small, satisfied nod. "Good."

Jay closes his eyes and exhales through his nose, already realizing that it doesn't matter what he says. Somehow, between Riki's persistence and Jake's apparent willingness to go along with absolutely anything, he's going to end up wearing the stupid apron before this weekend is over.

Somewhere along the way, the weekend has become less of a disaster and more of a strange sort of fun. Even if they do, end up, getting Jay to wear that apron. He's enjoying himself. Not that Jay would admit that out loud.

The cabin is warm and noisy by the time evening rolls around, everyone crowded around the table with plates of snacks Riki and Jake secured during their little supply run. It isn't exactly an impressive meal, but nobody seems particularly bothered by that anymore. Riki is still wearing the same hoodie he had on that morning, Sunghoon and Heeseung are arguing over the rules of a card game neither of them seems to understand, and Jake is sitting beside Riki with one knee tucked beneath him, quietly chewing on one of his sour gummy strips while listening to the conversation. Every so often, Jake laughs, and when he does, his entire body seems to join in, his shoulders shaking and his eyes crinkling at the corners. His mouth opens so wide that Jay can see nearly all of his teeth, and at one point he laughs hard enough to dribble onto his chin, prompting Riki to shove him away with an exaggerated grimace.

"Ew, gross!"

Jake only laughs harder, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand while Riki tries not to laugh along with him. Jay watches them from across the table, and for perhaps the first time since Jake moved in, he isn't looking at him and wondering what the hell is wrong with him. He just looks at Jake, and somehow, Jake doesn't seem out of place anymore. Up until recently, Jay couldn't look at him without feeling like there was some strange puzzle sitting in front of him, something he couldn't quite figure out no matter how long he stared. Jake had always been odd, too affectionate, too curious, completely incapable of understanding personal space, and occasionally so strange that Jay had seriously wondered whether there was something fundamentally wrong with him. But sitting here now, Jake looks less like some bizarre entity that randomly spawned into Jay's life and more like someone who belongs here. Part of their little circle of idiots.

The realization catches Jay off guard, mostly because there isn't even a clear moment he can point to and say that's when Jake became part of my life. It simply happened.

Riki asks Jake to play another round even though he still doesn't understand the rules, Heeseung throws a card at him when he makes another mistake, and Sunghoon calls him over to settle a debate he knows Jake won't have the slightest clue how to settle, mostly because he knows Jake will say something ridiculous and make everyone laugh. Somewhere along the way, Jay stopped thinking about whether Jake was weird and started thinking about how much less boring his life feels with him in it instead. A little louder, maybe. A lot more chaotic, but somehow better for it.

And perhaps that's why what happens later catches him so completely off guard.

The others have started drifting away from the table when Jake comes up behind him, close enough that Jay doesn't notice until a pair of arms suddenly slip around his waist. Jake rests his chin against Jay's shoulder and nuzzles into the side of his neck with a quiet little hum, his nose brushing over the skin until he finds the familiar shape of Jay's heart-shaped birthmark.

Jay stiffens. "Jake—"

Before he can finish, Jake's mouth brushes against the mark, followed by the light pressure of his teeth against Jay's neck. Jay jerks forward with a startled yelp, immediately twisting around and shoving him away. "Dude—what the hell?"

Jake stumbles back half a step, looking more surprised than anything else, while Jay frantically wipes at his neck. His fingers come away damp, and he stares at them for a second before wiping his hand against his pants, his face burning hot. Not entirely because of the embarrassing noise that just escaped him, either. There's a strange little flutter lingering low in his stomach, and Jay very deliberately refuses to think about it.

What sane person bites their roommate's neck?

Jake isn't exactly the most normal person in the world, but even by Jake's standards, this feels like he's crossed some kind of line. "Jake, what the hell?" Jay repeats when Jake says nothing, lowering his voice when he realizes how flustered he sounds. "That wasn't funny. You can't just do that to random people. If you did that to someone else, they might not get that you're joking."

Jake's expression shifts into something almost puzzled. "...Joking?"

Jay stares at him, and Jake stares back with complete sincerity. "But I wasn't joking."

Jay's mouth falls open slightly. "So why did you—"

Jake's phone suddenly starts ringing, cutting straight through the awkward silence. He glances at the screen and answers, and after a brief exchange with Riki, apparently being summoned back to the Riki's bedroom because he's too lazy to come looking for Jake himself, he slips his phone into his pocket and gives Jay a small wave.

"Good night!"

Jay remains standing there for several seconds, one hand still hovering awkwardly near his neck, before the realization begins to creep in.

He thinks about every strange interaction they've had since Jake moved in: the way Jake constantly seeks him out, leans against him without thinking, follows him around the apartment, tugs on his sleeve whenever he wants his attention, and seems to have absolutely no concept of personal space when it comes to Jay. The way he sleeps beside him whenever the apartment gets cold. The way he looks at Jay sometimes, lingering just a little too long.

Jay had always assumed it was simply Jake. Jake being Jake. A big, bubbly, puppy-like oaf with absolutely no understanding of boundaries and an apparently endless desire to annoy Jay into an early grave.

Except Jake doesn't do it with everyone.

He does it with him.

And suddenly, all those little things look different.

"Oh, no."

Jay's stomach drops.

Jake has been flirting with him.

The thought is so absurd that Jay almost laughs, except nothing about the situation feels remotely funny anymore. His mind immediately starts racing through every interaction they've had, picking apart things he'd said and done without thinking twice about them at the time. Had he given Jake the wrong idea? Was he somehow leading him on? Was Jake under the impression that they were already something?

And, perhaps most concerning of all, what was Jay supposed to do about it now?

He should talk to Jake. Obviously. Clear the air before things became even more confusing. That would be the sensible thing to do, except the moment Jay imagines actually sitting Jake down and having that conversation, another thought follows close behind it.

What if Jake takes it badly? What if he decides he doesn't want to be Jay's roommate anymore?

Jay would have to find another roommate. The apartment would go back to being quiet and empty, and Jake would disappear from his life as abruptly as he'd appeared in it. Jay doesn't even know what would happen to their relationship after that. Would they still be friends? Would everything become unbearably awkward? Would his friends keep hanging out with Jake, leaving Jay to figure out how to act around him whenever they all went out together?

The thought leaves an uncomfortable weight in his chest, and annoyingly, there's another part of this that Jay doesn't particularly want to examine too closely.

The idea that Jake might actually like him feels... good. Embarrassingly good.

Jay hasn't had much luck with relationships in the past, and it's been years since he's seriously dated anyone. His last crush had been complicated enough to keep him out of the dating pool entirely, and he'd never wanted to risk damaging a friendship by making a move he couldn't take back. Somewhere along the way, he'd simply gotten used to the idea that romance wasn't something he needed, that he was perfectly capable of living without it.

But the thought that someone could look at him and actually want him? That someone could find him attractive, could be interested in him, could have been trying to get closer to him this entire time?

It warms something in him that Jay isn't entirely prepared to admit exists, and the realization only makes the whole situation more confusing. He should probably be more concerned about the awkwardness of it all, but instead, buried underneath all the anxiety, there's this tiny, embarrassing sense of being flattered.

By the time he finally finds Sunghoon, Jay has managed to work himself into such a state that the words come spilling out before he's even properly explained the situation.

"I think Jake's been flirting with me."

Sunghoon's expression changes immediately, but not into concern or confusion. Something much, much worse slowly spreads across his face as his mouth stretches into a radiant, shit-eating grin, and Jay's stomach drops.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

Sunghoon tries to contain himself and fails miserably. "Oh, no. Yeah. Jake's been coming to me for advice."

Jay goes completely still. "What?"

"He asks me things." Sunghoon's grin widens, clearly enjoying this far too much. "How to get your attention. What you like. Whether certain things are too obvious."

Jay's stare turns deadly.

Sunghoon immediately breaks, clutching his stomach as he leans against the wall. "Oh my God, your face."

"This isn't funny."

"It's a little funny."

"Sunghoon."

"Okay, okay." He straightens himself up, though the grin refuses to disappear. "But, for the record, you've definitely been giving him mixed signals."

Jay's face drops. "I have?"

Sunghoon considers him for a moment before giving a small nod. "Yeah."

Jay groans and drags both hands down his face.

Fantastic.

By the time Jay finally makes his way back to the bedroom he shares with Jake, he still hasn't figured out what he's supposed to do with any of this. His thoughts have been going in circles ever since Sunghoon's confession, and every time he thinks he's managed to settle on an answer, another question immediately takes its place. He should probably talk to Jake. He should probably establish some boundaries. He should probably stop thinking about how Jake might actually like him before he makes himself even more confused.

Unfortunately, Jake is already waiting for him.

He's sprawled comfortably across Jay's chosen bed, apparently having made himself at home while Jay was gone, and the moment he spots him, his face brightens into an immediate smile. Without a word, Jake shifts over and pats the empty space beside him, looking at Jay expectantly as though there's never been any question that Jay will join him.

Jay stands there for a moment, staring at him.

A few hours ago, that sort of thing would've barely registered. Now, knowing what he knows, every little gesture feels different. The casual way Jake reaches for him, the complete certainty that Jay will come closer, the way he looks at him with that open, uncomplicated affection—it all makes the strange flutter in Jay's stomach return.

He should probably be more worried about it.

Instead, after a long sigh, Jay crosses the room and lies down beside him.

Jake immediately settles against his side, apparently satisfied with the answer, curling into him until his head rests against Jay's shoulder. A moment later, he's nuzzling sleepily into Jay's neck like he always does, completely unaware of the minor crisis currently happening inside Jay's head.

Jay hesitates, his arm hovering awkwardly for a second before he finally gives in and wraps it around Jake, pulling him a little closer.

The gesture is surprisingly natural.

Jay stares at the ceiling, almost startled by his own boldness, but he doesn't take it back. Maybe this isn't as bad as he'd convinced himself it was. Maybe being wanted by his strange, overly affectionate roommate isn't something he needs to run from.

Jake makes a quiet, contented sound against his neck, and Jay's mouth twitches into the smallest smile before he finally lets his eyes fall shut.

With the cabin finally quiet and everyone else asleep, Jake slips out the front door with his phone in hand and steps onto the porch, the cool night air brushing against his skin. He tilts his head back toward the unfamiliar stars, the faint glow of his screen illuminating his face as he connects the call.

The line clicks open.

Strange, distorted gurgles echo softly from the speaker.

Jake glances back toward the cabin, toward the warm light still glowing faintly through the windows, and his expression softens into a smile.

"Mothership," he says quietly. "I found my home."

And for perhaps the first time since arriving on Earth, Jake sounds completely certain.