Killjoy

Hoseok stalked next door, prepared to beat the living hell out of whoever dared to disturb his sleep. Or, you know, ask nicely that they turn it down. He stood with his hands on his hips, his annoyance growing with each second the door remained unanswered despite the fact that he'd knocked three times now.

Finally, the door swung open and the rounded fist Hoseok had made in preparation to pound against the front door hung in the air. In front of him stood a guy with shockingly bright orange hair dressed in a pair of black boxer briefs and a white tank that practically glowed against his tanned skin. He leaned against the door frame, running a hand through the mess of hair on his head, a single chicken wing dangling from his mouth. He drew his brows together, chocolate eyes peering up at him as if to ask Hoseok why on Earth he'd rung the bell at 2 in the morning.

"Can I...help you?"