Chapter Text
The door clicked shut behind Su-bong, keys dropping onto the kitchen table. His head pounded just how it always did after a show’s noise that can still ring in his ears well after an hour of it ending. Everything was dark in the living room besides the hall that was basked in sharp, white lighting. All he wanted was a burning shower after this, to make it to his bed with no single disruption.
He fumbled with the inside of his pockets of his embellished pants and brought the rest out of them to lay them bare on the dining table like a stockpile. His vape came first, taking that only thing in hand. Forgotten crumbled up receipts were then thrown. Some lighter he was sure he swiped from somebody else clattered against the worn-out wooden table as he walked away thoughtlessly.
“Hey.. you’re home,”
Thanos froze in place, startled at the voice in the pitch darkness of his living room. Course he was. His fucking roommate makes the habit out of showing face in the dead of night, voice rising up from the couch and buried beneath a blanket with nothing but the soft glow of his phone to reveal his face.
Just fucking waiting there.
“It’s late, you dumbass.”
“I know that.”
“Why’re you still awake, boy?”
The rapper’s voice was hoarse. It was heavy. As if he’d fully worn it out through all the verses and yells with tonight’s show. Though, the frustration still held onto his words, clear with his question.
Nam-gyu just shrugged at it. His brown eyes darted to the television that sat in the middle of the room. It was on. Just muted. The lips of the people on the screen moved with no sound. The promoter wasn’t even watching it. Weirdo.
“Did you eat?” The boy asked.
“Nah,”
“There’s food there.”
“Mmph..”
The thought of eating alone was enough to make Su-bong’s empty stomach churn. Sure, he’d eaten once or twice before the club. However, when you resort to other things in your system, the mere image of it alone leaves you feeling bland as if you can survive without it for as long as possible.
What could it be, anyway? Take-out? Some kimbap wasn’t going to fulfill him right now. Fuck that.
Thanos inhaled sharply as he began to walk down the hallway before stopping on his tracks due to yet another word being uttered from the younger one.
“How’d the show go?”
“Why y’wanna know?”
Nam-gyu rose up from where he previously laid down on the couch, finally sitting up with his attention glued to Thanos. “What do you mean ‘why’?”
“Always the same fuckin’ question from you.” All the boy did was blink in response to the sharp statement. Then he looked away, setting his hands on his lap. His tongue darted out just slightly enough to wet his lips out of instinct, quietly placing his hands together before rubbing the tail of his brow.
“Habit. I guess. Sorry.” Sorry. Thanos was getting tired of hearing that, too. If Thanos was forewarned that this was going to replace his old roommate, maybe he would’ve reconsidered. Though the cons didn’t much outweigh the pros of the situation. They were just seemingly prominent in the eyes of the rapper. A nuisance as well.
Gyeong-su could disappear for days on end and Thanos wouldn’t take note of it until rent was due. But Thanos couldn’t disappear for three hours without somehow being texted four times by Nam-gyu.
But Su-bong needed money, and Nam-gyu needed a place. When Gyeong-su moved out, it became painfully obvious within the first month that being solely responsible for the bills wasn’t exactly something Su-bong had prepared for.
It wasn’t as if the purple-haired man was ready for the harsh reality of the outside world and everything that came with it when there was nobody left to pick up his slack.
His priorities weren’t gracefully sorted out and his career only went well when it did. Still, if there was a brighter outlook to the arrangement, it was that they had signed the lease fully aware of what they were getting into.
They knew each other’s wiring by now. And two druggies could only coexist for so long before everything inevitably crashed down from misperceived perfection.
An eye for an eye.
Thanos didn’t say anything after that. He walked off, going straight to the bathroom just as he intended and locked the door behind him, releasing a low sigh as he dipped his head with an exhaustion. He removed his clothes hastily, then kicked it into a corner of the bathroom to discard them.
The water hit his back satisfyingly, eyes daring to close with the sensation. Steam swallowed the room whole, fogging the mirror enough until not even his own reflection could look back at him once he found the willpower to get out the shower and dry himself with the single towel that was draped there over the handle.
It was still damp from its last use, but it didn’t occur to Su-bong. Or maybe he couldn’t care enough to acknowledge the detail.
From the second he stepped back out into the hallway, the living room still seemed the same as he glanced down into its direction, only now the television had finally gone dark now by the subtle look of it.
Su-bong descended into his own bedroom and grabbed the first boxers he chose to throw on. He fumbled with a black tank top spotted in the clean basket he hadn’t folded and put away just yet, his back still wet with droplets scattered across his tan skin that made the fabric cling uncomfortably to him as he pulled it over his head.
He wiped the purple strands away from his forehead as the sound of his own footsteps was the only thing moving through the place.
He stood there for a second, scanning the living room. Nam-gyu was asleep now.
Nam-gyu remained in the same spot on the couch, the remote still hanging loosely from his hand while black locks covered half of his pale face. Peaceful. Finally. The idiot looked at ease for once asleep. Quieter, too.
There hasn’t been a time where the rapper found him in this state already when Thanos made it home at four in the morning.
If he can recall, Nam-gyu would only be sound asleep once he made it known he was there in the apartment. As if he needed to know somebody was around.
It was needy. Thanos hated neediness. The second he felt tied down by any means, he’ll make sure he’d cut it off from the jump while simultaneously keeping them at arm’s reach.
Kind of humiliating, too. He didn’t get it. The apartment had locks. He was a grown fucking man. There’s no reason for him to wait up every night like an adopted dog sat in front of the door searching for any subtle movement.
Just like there’s no reason for Thanos to still be standing there, either, his feet staying planted over the wooden flooring.
He exhaled silently, walking toward the couch and looming over the shorter one before quickly snagging the remote from the boy’s loose fingers and sitting at the very end. Nam-gyu hardly moved at the graze. Just a small sound elicited from his parted mouth, revealing he was sound asleep.
Cute.
Su-bong followed with a press of the power button, flickering it back to life, mute option still on from before. He clicked it off without thinking with one thumb, immediately met with a burst of volume that was loud enough to echo through the space. Whoops.
Nam-gyu jolted slightly, his brows pulling together before he shifted on the small couch as much as he could. The rapper lowered the volume as if it’d fix him from moving anymore, tightening his grip around the remote with a sudden surge of irritation.
What fucking dunce would leave the volume so up high and their first instinct is to mute it?
Then a sudden, cold leg draped over Su-bong’s lap. And another.
The idiot didn’t even seem aware of it, too. He was still sound asleep. Trusting enough to pull stupid shit like this. For a second, Thanos strongly considered shoving his legs right back off.
There was a generous time enough of knowing Nam-gyu to know the other was notorious for getting close into your personal space, whether unconscious or fully aware of it.
Nam-gyu couldn’t keep his hands to himself despite his very sincere efforts.
And he’d make it informed he’s around by tapping Su-bong on the arm or hang off of his shoulder just so he could utter something that undoubtedly could’ve been said from where he was first standing.
Other times, the boy would lean over the back of the couch just to shove his screen in the rapper’s face and ask he’d look over at whatever fucking stupid thing caught his eye that day, and Thanos would usually have to inhale through his nose and reevaluate his life choices.
Su-bong stared over at Nam-gyu, who seemed relaxed enough to make the rapper’s face soften despite himself. Sure.
His roommate was cute— sure— but he had zero fucking concept of personal space. And with all of it, Thanos still didn’t seem to openly complain about it.
Thanos clicked his tongue, eyes on both of his legs that remained on his lap, slowly roaming up to then examine the boy’s face. Watching him sometimes wasn’t inherently wrong.
The dark haired boy was multifaceted. Su-bong learned after a while that living with someone reveals a lot about them.
The rapper has had plenty of meaningless conversations with the boy, higher than he could thoughtfully put into words, and yet he didn’t have the leeway to observe him how he did right now.
The younger boy was buried almost entirely into the couch cushion, his soft breaths escaping past his parted mouth. Feather light twitches would come and go on his exposed features, trailing down to his hands that were tucked right beside him uncomfortably.
Even in his sleep would his fingers move restlessly.
It was enough for the rapper who sat on the opposite side’s lips dare to form a faint, pleased smirk at the sight of it before dismissively returning his gaze to the muffled television.
“Fuckin’ weirdo, Nam-su..” he murmured, rubbing his eyes roughly in a shitty attempt at getting rid of the thought that just existed.