Happenstance

Fall For a Friend // Trust Fall

Korn stirred slightly as he slowly woke up at the smell of something deliciously sweet. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the slender back and the broad shoulders of someone else cooking in the small adjacent kitchen.

Frowning, it took Korn a moment to remember where he was. Yesterday's memories were a little blurry, especially the ones from after the fight, but it seems that Wai had helped him after all.

At the same time, Wai tipped his head to look over his shoulder. He had a tiny smirk drawn on his lips, and his eyes were glowing with a new light.

"Ah, Sleeping Beauty is awake," he said, his tone teasing, as he turned his attention back to whatever he was cooking. "Come sit. Breakfast is almost ready."

The sight of Wai cooking breakfast for them stung Korn unexpectedly. It looked a little too domestic for him. Especially now that Wai had his back to him, all Korn could see was his short brown hair falling a little everywhere and the man's pyjamas. This version of Wai was moving something in him that he would prefer would stay dormant. He didn't need this version of Wai stuck in his head.

"Nah, I don't want to bother you any longer," he declared as he stood from the sofa. "I'm going to go now."

Wai turned around, looking amused and slightly annoyed too. Korn realised he had confessed not wanting to bother him, which was unanticipated and a first.

"You didn't care if you were a bother yesterday when you got into that fight, you moron," he said, menacingly pointing a spatula at him. "So, you're not going to start now. Sit your arse down."

A loss for words, Korn obeyed and sat at the table, waiting for breakfast.

"I made pancakes. I hope you like it. There's orange juice in the fridge if you'd like," Wai said as he finished the plate of pancakes he had made.

As if not to break this image of Wai and the peaceful morning they were surprisingly sharing, Korn slowly stood from his seat before grabbing the juice in the fridge by the stove.

Now that he was standing closer to the other, he could see all his skin's details. His top was slightly off, and his collarbone was showing off. Wai's skin looked like porcelain under the morning lights, and his collarbone seemed so delicate. Korn had to remind himself that Wai had broken his nose five months ago in order to chase away the idea of a delicate Wai. The mere thought was ridiculous, and Wai would probably beat his arse for having it.

They then shared breakfast in comfortable silence, despite Korn's thoughts being all over and his eyes constantly returning to Wai's collarbone. It was a tease, Korn swore.

Soon enough, Korn finished eating, and he quickly thanked Wai before taking his leave. He couldn't stay any longer anyway; he was starting to feel overwhelmed by everything. And the image of Wai cooking for him ( them , he forced himself to think) wouldn't leave his mind. Even now that he was sitting in his first class of the day, he couldn't focus on what the lecturer was saying. His mind kept going back to how the sunlight caressed Wai's features and made him look slightly unreal. How his hair was everywhere, uncombed, and that some strands had been falling over his eyes. How his eyes had crinkled with a slight smile when he saw Korn was awake. How his flawless skin seemed to glow. How his fucking collarbone kept peeking out of his top.

Korn groaned, perhaps a little too loudly, as Pat abruptly turned to him, a perplexed frown on his face.

"What's wrong with you, pal?" He asked, trying to joke, but he still sounded a little worried. "Did you fight again? You look like shit."

Korn waved his concerns away, not wanting to explain everything while they were still in class, and the lecturer kept giving them murdering looks.

Later, Pat followed Korn to the cafeteria once the class ended. Korn was still out of it; his mind was overwhelmed with thoughts of Wai that he didn't want and couldn't understand. Worried by his friend's blankness, Pat tried to catch up with Korn as he went to order an iced coffee.

"Korn? What's wrong with you?" Pat asked again. "You're really out of it today. I'm worried."

Smiling softly at his best friend, Korn turned to him.

"I'm okay, buddy. Don't worry. Just had a bad night."

"Is that why your face looks like this? You got into another fight?" Pat kept on poking. He sounded a tad angry and worried.

All Korn did was take his order before sitting at their usual table. He was tired, his face was hurting, and his mind was in disarray. All he wanted was to go home and sleep and forget all about yesterday and this morning.

"Man, you need to stop fighting," Pat said suddenly as his boyfriend Pran joined the table. Wai was nowhere to be seen, and Korn released a breath at that. If he couldn't handle the thought of Wai, he definitely couldn't deal with the real one.

"You really look bad," Pran added as he observed Korn.

"Promise me you'll stop fighting, Korn," Pat's voice was final and unwavering.

Korn stared at his best friend, slightly taken aback. Since when did Pat preach for peaceful exchange rather than the argument of a good fist? But he looked genuinely worried, just like Pran, and Korn wondered if he really looked that bad. And it was established that lately, Pat hadn't gotten into any fights. The same went for the rest of their friends. Korn was the only one.

"You know, I can't help it," he smirked, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. "That's how I am."

Pat frowned, seemingly losing his words, turning to his boyfriend.

"Say something to this idiot, please."

Pran sighed.

"Listen, Korn..." he started, and Korn knew he was about to get lectured. "We both know you can communicate through other means than your fists. You're smarter than that. Plus, you don't want to deal with the consequences of a damaged brain later in your life, so you better stop now and start using your words for once."

He paused, looking carefully at Korn. The latter was trying his best not just to run away.

"Pat is worried about you," Pran continued. "I don't know if you've seen yourself today, but you really don't look good. It's like you're ready to pass out."

Because he was, Korn bitterly thought but thankfully kept his mouth shut.

"Please, Korn, promise me you'll stop fighting," Pat added.

His best friend's genuine concern for his well-being was touching, and Korn finally promised he wouldn't get into a fight again.

However, Korn had used his fists as an argument for so long that he couldn't remember how to express himself without them. What was he good at without them? He couldn't remember. How was he supposed to express himself? How was he supposed to deal with all these emotions boiling in the pit of his stomach? What exactly was he supposed to do now?

Exhausted, Korn slowly stood up and declared he was skipping the rest of today's class because he needed some more sleep. This was indeed true, but he also needed time to process and organise his thoughts. He really was feeling all over the place, and he didn't like it. Being openly vulnerable wasn't in his habit, even in front of Pat.