#basakee

"What do you want for lunch: chicken, beef or pork?" Kee asks Basa who's lounging on the couch with his laptop balanced on his thighs.

"We had pork yesterday, I think chicken would be nice."

"Oh yeah, we have that new one we got two days ago. It's supposed to a little spicy." Kee says as he rummages through the cupboards, bringing out a pot and placing it on the stove.

Basa gives him a thumbs up and goes back to his screen.

Six minutes later Kee comes over and places a large bowl of chicken instant ramen on the table, handing a smaller bowl and some chopsticks over to Basa.

Halfway through eating, Basa sighs. "It's Micchan's turn this week, right?"

Understanding what Basa meant, Kee nods. "Yeah, we already called on Fu-kun last week."

"Right. I'll call Micchan and ask what's for dinner."

When a drunk Basa's phone dings again, Mami grunts and gives into the urge to check it. In hindsight, he wishes he didn't.

His lips curl when he sees Kee's name on the sender's box asking when Basa will be home.

"Clingy fucker." Mami mutters as he scrolls up the thread of messages, alcohol impeding his sense of not invading other's privacy.

It's hard to judge Kee of being a clingy fucker when Mami finds out all of the similar text messages from Basa ranging from "message when you're coming home" to "you're such an idiot, miss you" to "where are you, it's late".

"Kee could you hand me my underwear." Basa says as he untucks the towel around his waist.

"Sure. Here. Do you need your pants?" Kee says as he hands over Basa's boxerbriefs.

"Yeah. Just wait a second, I gotta put these on. Mm, yeah okay, pants now."

When Kee comes back (comes home), the first thing he's greeted with is canvases and papers full of Basa's art, some colored and some not. It's a welcome sight since he's always enjoyed Basa's art. But of course, there's no sight more welcome than the artist walking over to him, his usual gentle smile greeting Kee.

He launches himself at the redhead, glad to feel that specific warmth that only Basa has.

He hears, feels Basa's chuckle against his ear and the redhead wraps his own arms around Kee.

"Welcome home. How was your trip?" Basa asks, a smile in his voice.

Kee thinks back to it. It was fun. He had fun. He pulls away a little from their embrace but is unwilling to completely let go as he tells Basa about the trip.

"It was great." Kee says. "Had fun with friends and you'll never believe how good the food was there!"

He remembers laughing and bonding with some cousins and old friends. The resort they had stayed at had the best food Kee's ever had since he started living independently with Basa. And there were activities that Kee enjoyed to the fullest.

But despite the near perfect three days, Kee doesn't feel as satisified as he thought he would. There would always be that feeling of something missing, nagging at the back of his head, worming its way between his laughs.

And as he stands in their living room, hands resting on Basa's waist, Kee realizes that it wasn't something missing but someone.

"It was fun." Kee says again but when he smiles it's a little rueful. "But I missed you. You would have liked the food there. And the beach was great. We should go to something like that next time!"

When Kee is out of town, the apartment is quiet, feels a little bigger than needed. Basa would rather not say it but he hates it.

Hates the way his footsteps seem to echo as he moves from room to room even though they don't really. Hates that he only needs to heat enough water for one package of instant noodles. Hates that no one picks up the clothes and books lying around the living room.

Hates how lonely it feels.

But there is an upside to it. When Kee's away, Basa is filled with an anxious need to move, to do something, to fill in the space that his usual hyperactive roommate usually has no problem filling.

So Basa draws.

He moves from medium to medium, drawing this and that. Some are the drawings required for school and some are for fun, and there's that one or two (just one or two, mind you, because that's all Basa's ever going to allow himself to draw) of Kee.

Basa draws Kee from memory, each rendition better than before. He still can't quite capture the way Kee's eyes sparkle when he smiles, the way Kee exudes motion and relaxation at the same time, the way Kee's expression shifts ever so slightly when he turns to look at Basa.

But it's getting better; he's gotten the softness of the curve of Kee's cheek, found the perfect mixture of color for his hair, realized the combination of sharp angles and rounded lines that make up Kee's figure.