impulse control

kiha was still getting used to the house. two months and it still felt entirely new and still a little suffocating sometimes, something he just wasn’t entirely used to and didn’t really understand. it’s why he liked night time though when the hustle from the day was over and quiet set in towards the early hours where there was a lack of people awake ; like right now as kiha pondered over if he needed two cups of coffee for the night, or if he should just overload the first one and deal with the intense bitterness of the taste. it was probably a sight to be seen really, a tablespoon filled with the coffee grains in one hand hovering over a mug, and the other holding his second mug with a frown pulled over his face because both options were technically the same.. right? so lost in his own thoughts though and being alone, he hadn’t even noticed another person entering the kitchen until a noise hit his ears. kiha jumped, spoon clattering into the mug thankfully, and he kept a tight grasp on the other one too, but the loud ting of the metal against ceramic was still loud in the far too early morning hours– 

“shit– sorry.. sorry. didn’t um– didn’t hear you,” he flailed weakly, turning to see who it was that was up with him now, apologising for his own instincts.

jaebeom probably settled into andante faster than he had any right to, but it was just in his nature to adapt, ever since he was a child. even in the dead of night, jaebeom comfortably strolled through the sharehouse’s corridors, not even bothering to turn on the lights. instead, he illuminated the way with the dim light of his phone screen, hardly looking up from his instagram feed. jaebeom made the trek from room 202 to the kitchen for a late night snack almost every night anyway. he didn’t need to look. it was instinct. 

living in a house with thirty other people usually meant that he wasn’t alone in the kitchen, even in the dead of night. standing in the doorway, jaebeom finally looks up from his phone, shoving it in his pocket as he squints to make out who it is sans his glasses. kiha, cool. 

Haneul had just finished work and couldn’t wait to get home and relax. He should have known that relaxation wasn’t going to come easy. As soon as he walked through the door, he could sense that something was wrong. As he made his way to his room, he glanced into the kitchen to see that the dishwasher was leaking. The kitchen was well on it’s way to becoming a foam party. “Who loaded the dishwasher?!” He called out, not really wanting to deal with anyone, tonight.

zoned out, legs folded underneath him in his seat, jaebeom’s notes have started to get blurry. he’s read the same sentence ten times over without understanding it -- clearly it’s time to call it a night. finally conceding to his fate, he drops his head onto the table. his forehead hits the wood hard, but he doesn’t really notice, aside from hearing the thwack sound of contact. his eyes fall shut against a diagram, and he can’t help wondering if it would be so bad of him to fall asleep at the kitchen table. 

he almost does, until oh haneul’s voice brings him back to the land of the living. he initially answers haneul with a confused, bleary look as he raises his head, before groggily turning to look at the dishwasher. jaebeom doesn’t react much to the sight, save for a groan. maybe he had fallen asleep after all.

oh, hey! i’m late to the party (thank you online university) but i’m sucy & i’m here with the owner of the bottom bunk bed in room 202, mr. han jaebeom! he’s a new muse and i’m looking forward to developing him here! anyways, you all know the drill! under the cut, there’ll be some info about him and a few plot ideas. if you like what you see, click that heart for plots!