3:44a.m. → taewin

005

1:36p.m
dorms
— sicheng

staying almost silent in one's room while trying to work on a project is, as sicheng finds out, virtually impossible.

first, he manages to knock all his cables off his desk at once, which creates a clatter which is unfathomably loud in the near-silence of the dorm. then he kicks his (empty) wastepaper basket by accident, cringing as it rolls across his floor and bumps against his bed. then his phone goes off and vibrates against his desk, which almost makes sicheng jump three feet in the air because of how loud it seems.

he just doesn't want to disturb taeyong. he seems grumpy enough already so sicheng being noisy in his room doesn't seem like a good plan.

still, sicheng can only stay in his room with this bloody project in the deafening silence for so long. it's when he catches a whiff of food from behind his door and finds his stomach growling that he finally gives in, and sheepishly trudges to the kitchen.

he can hear music from the kitchen when he approaches, and it's his favourite band. huh. maybe they're on the radio again, he thinks, but when he steps into the kitchen he's wrong.

it's taeyong. he's standing there with his phone next to him, cooking  something or other which smells absolutely spectacular to little hungry sicheng. still, it's not this that strikes him. it's taeyong himself, the line of his shoulders, the contrast between the longer, bleached white strands of his hair and the shaved, black undercut beneath them, the way his shirt hangs loose on his lean figure and shifts every time he moves. sicheng can't help but stare, frozen in the kitchen doorway, until taeyong finally noticed he's there and turns around.

"enjoying the view?"

sicheng vaguely wants to die.

instead of launching himself out of the kitchen window and into the parking lot below, sicheng settles for the more rational solution — that being actually answering taeyong. which isn't a good idea at all, really, if sicheng's actual answer is taken into account.

"um." he begins, like always, shy and not exactly sure what to say, "yes."

even he cringes at himself and how ridiculously awkward he is. god, he wishes he were more like yuta — clever and witty with his words, which is a great cover-up for the fact that he's shit at being smooth. but no, sicheng isn't like yuta at all. he's awkward and shy and stutters a lot, and he says the wrong things at the wrong times.

to sicheng's surprise, though, taeyong doesn't seem disgusted. he doesn't seem annoyed, or angry, or even the slightest bit confused. he just laughs, a bright sound that doesn't seem to match his usual grumpy demeanour, and he turns back around to concentrate on the food. "thought so."

once again, sicheng opens his mouth to say something, but his current thoughts can only be articulated as '?????' and sicheng can't really say that without sounding like a bit of an idiot, so he stays quiet. taeyong ignores him mostly, focusing on the food in front of him, and sicheng is torn between being grateful and being mildly upset that taeyong still won't talk to him. he doesn't know what he's done wrong.

sicheng sits down at the table as taeyong cooks, watching him quietly. sicheng's never been a good cook so he usually gets food from a takeaway or eats microwave meals, but now taeyong is around, perhaps he will be able to start eating properly. or, at least, he will if taeyong actually turns out to be a good cook. if not, he supposes he'll have to politely refuse his meals and order takeaways again.

taeyong glances over his shoulder at sicheng again, apparently annoyed that sicheng is still watching him if his facial expression is anything to go by. sicheng swallows hard and decides to make conversation. "how much food are you making?" it's a cheeky question, but whatever. it's worth the risk because the food smells really good and sicheng is starving.

"enough." taeyong says, and sicheng slumps in his chair. but apparently, he's not done. "enough for two."

sicheng perks up again. things are looking up, aren't they? he's about to ask if he can have some when taeyong answers for him. "you can have some if you want."

"if you don't mind, that'd be—" sicheng doesn't finish, cutting himself off when taeyong turns all the way around to look at him, leaning against the counter and folding his arms over his chest. sicheng swallows. there's something about taeyong's stare that makes him feel immensely small whenever the man looks at him.

"yoonoh told me to apologise." he says, gone flat and unimpressed-sounding as always.

"what?" sicheng's so surprised that he almost slips off the edge of his seat. "who's yoonoh?"

"the guy that was on the couch before." taeyong points through the door to the living room. "blonde hair. tall. dating hong aeri." sicheng's overwhelmed. taeyong talks so much when he wants to, it's amazing.

"oh. why did he tell you to apologise?" sicheng doesn't see a reason for an apology being required. taeyong rolls his eyes over-exaggeratedly, as if he's annoyed at the question — he seems to be annoyed by pretty much anything, actually.

"for being a dick." taeyong's reply is short, sharp, to the point. apparently it's almost as if taeyong doesn't actually want to take responsibility for the way he's been acting to sicheng the past couple of days, but then again... by this point, sicheng has just figured that to be his personality.

he doesn't say anything, folding his hands awkwardly on the table and watching taeyong quietly. that same deafening silence as before settles on the room, only broken by the low sound of taeyong's music, before taeyong finally turns around and tends to the food again. "aren't you going to accept my apology?" he sounds almost irritated when he speaks. it makes sicheng feel awful.

"i mean... yes," he answers shyly, and god, why does he sound so awkward? "i just... you know, i thought that was just. you. i thought that was just your personality."

as soon as sicheng's words leave his mouth, taeyong whips around and glares at him over his shoulder. sicheng raises his hands in a sign of surrender, but taeyong just bows his head as if he's ashamed.

"no. that's not me." he tells sicheng, beginning to serve the food onto plates for them both now (which is always good because sicheng's stomach is beginning to growl he's that hungry). sicheng waits eagerly an explanation, but he doesn't get it — instead he gets a plate of amazing-looking food set on the table in front of him.

in slight confusion, sicheng looks up to taeyong, still expecting an answer, but he doesn't get it. taeyong just returns the slightly confused gaze. "eat up." he says to little sicheng, as if the whole previous conversation never even happened.

sicheng's shoulders slump, and he gives up. it's no use trying to ask taeyong to provide him with an answer — he'll probably annoy him further, and nobody wants that.

he supposes he'll have to wait another day to find out. for now, though, he settles for tucking into the truly delicious food that taeyong's cooked for them, and pushes all bad thoughts to the back of his mind.

taeyong might be a huge meanie, he decides, but he's definitely a good cook. he figures he'll hold off on the roommate complaint for a little longer, if only for the purpose of getting good food for once. and besides — maybe taeyong will come to show sicheng a kinder side if he puts up with him for a little longer. sicheng just sort of has to wait and see.