#kulap;

Byungchul had an idea of what was about to happen when Kulap told him to go sit on his bed and keep his eyes shut.

Had anyone else told him to do this, he would be trying to peek. He was still tempted to do so, actually, but Kulap would pout at him if he found out. Seeing as there was a fifty percent chance that this surprise was going to be Kulap showing off a skirt or something similar--with the other fifty percent being Kulap showing off makeup--it was just too risky. Byungchul didn't know if he could handle seeing a pouting Kulap in a skirt or with his makeup done. Separately, no problem, but together? That was a dangerous combo. A potentially fatal combo.

He sat on his hands to keep himself from messing with his nails in his idle time waiting. He continued watching the black behind his eyelids. Very interesting. He eventually had to move his hands out from underneath him because one still felt sore from colliding with facial structure the other day. This pushed him to giving in, and he started chewing at the hangnail on his thumb.

Byungchul learned a long time ago that asking what the hell Kulap was doing barely resulted in more answers than it did in more questions. For example, "What are you doing?" would segue into him asking, "But why?"

Apparently, Byungchul didn't understand the importance of personal upkeep. He was totally alright with that. He didn't need fifteen avocado scrubs. From what he understood, enough people found him attractive without having to go through that nonsense. He barely had the energy to take a shower after the amount of rehearsing they went through on a daily basis. How did Kulap have the energy to buzz around their room, doing all this extra shit, without giving up halfway and just faceplanting into his bed? Byungchul wanted to lay down just from watching him.

Then again, nothing was stopping him from doing that. He flopped over onto his mattress and pretended like he was looking at his phone screen more than he was looking at Kulap. He always thought of Kulap as cute, but until they had the chance to room together, he didn't know. He didn't know that under all the baggy clothes and cheap jeans, Kulap was pretty. It was kind of fucking with his head.

Everything had been too much lately, or maybe everything had been not enough. Either way, Byungchul should have predicted the unnerving churn of electricity in his veins. He rarely went three months without an episode of this sort, and he distinctly remembered what came of it last time; he had gone stumbling into Kiyeol's apartment, inebriated but not by extraneous means, and he was strongly considering making the same mistake twice. Kiyeol hadn't treated it like a mistake--that was why the thought of going to him again was so appealing--but Byungchul knew better. He shouldn't be acting on these thoughts.

It's better than meeting up with a stranger, his thoughts insisted. Somehow, these thoughts never felt like they were truly coming from his own head. An even more volatile voice within him reminded him that he ruined any other, safer options for comfort. That only made the horrible sensation intensify. He felt like he was crawling out of his own skin.

He didn't notice, but he was digging his jagged fingernails into his forearms. There was only problem with wanting to leave the dorm: Kulap. They shared a room, and Kulap slept just as little as Byungchul, so slipping out and not drawing attention to himself would be impossible, especially with how closely Kulap paid attention to him in the first place. Most nights, he would appreciate that about the younger, but tonight, it made him all the more aware of how dangerous he could become. Everything had been so good between them lately too. He wanted to prevent messing that up for as long as he possibly could.

According to the laws of Minyoung, Byungchul should be done with Kulap, but he's not. How could he be, when Kulap brought home matching mugs for them to drink out of? Not that he didn't appreciate the sentiment, it just-- it complicated things. It made things so much harder to walk away from completely, and he should walk away, because Kulap's got a girlfriend now.

Here’s what didn’t matter: the time (one in the morning), the other members (who were all asleep), or what they were doing just fifteen minutes before. What mattered was their nerf gun artillery, cocked and loaded (pun intended, considering what they were doing just fifteen minutes before) and ready for mayhem.

The lines were drawn. The bathroom was a neutral zone, but the kitchen and common room--and the rooms of the sleeping members, if they were feeling daring--were places of battles soon-to-be-had. Pillow held to his chest as a shield, Byungchul was prepared for war.