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The hallway was silent.
Their breaths were not.
Ken's back was still lightly pressed against the washing machine, Arashi leaning just slightly in—eyes unwavering, arms relaxed, but his presence crackling like static in the air.
Neither spoke.
Neither blinked.
Then—
Ding-dong.
The doorbell broke the moment in half.
Ken nearly jolted, eyes wide. "I—I'll get it."
He practically escaped toward the front door, brushing past Arashi like he hadn't just been seconds away from—
He flung the door open.
"Mia?"
A bright-faced girl with shoulder-length curls and a tote bag stood on the other side, grinning.
"You're alive," she teased. "I was about to file a missing person report."
Ken smiled awkwardly. "Sorry, I've been busy."
Mia gave him a playful slap on the arm. "Anyway, I came to remind you—tomorrow is my birthday! Don't tell me you forgot."
"Of course not!" Ken said quickly, even though he 100% had.
"I'm hosting it at a club," she continued. "I wanted to tell you in person—because I better see you there."
"Yeah, sure," Ken nodded. "Just give me the address."
Mia pulled out her phone and showed it to him.
Ken glanced.
Then blinked.
"…Wait. This club?"
"Yeah," she smiled. "It's supposed to be pretty cool. Close to your area too."
"Do you… know the owner?" she asked curiously, eyes flicking behind him.
Ken turned around.
And immediately wished he hadn't.
Because Arashi—still shirtless, still damp-haired, still looking like he stepped out of a dream meant to ruin your sleep—was leaning in the hallway, arms crossed, watching them both.
Mia's eyes widened in realization. "You… know the owner?"
Ken sighed, face heating. "Unfortunately."
Arashi tilted his head, calm as ever. "You booked my club?"
Mia blinked. "Wait—you're the owner?"
Arashi offered a lazy half-smile. "Mm-hm."
"I had no idea," Mia stammered, eyes darting between the two boys. "I—I guess that's… convenient?"
Ken cleared his throat. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mia."
Mia stepped back quickly, clearly picking up the awkward tension. "Right. Um. I'll leave you guys to it. Don't be late, Ken!"
The door shut.
Silence again.
Ken turned around.
Arashi was still staring.
"You're going to my place tomorrow," Arashi said simply.
Ken crossed his arms. "It's not your place. It's just a club."
"My club."
Ken muttered, "I guess I have no choice, huh."
Arashi pushed off the wall and took a slow step forward.
"You could choose not to come."
Ken lifted his chin. "I already said I'd go."
"Good."
Another step.
Now they were close again. Not washing-machine close, but hallway close. Still dangerous.
"You planning to behave?" Arashi asked, voice low.
Ken raised an eyebrow. "At your club? Not likely."
A smirk tugged at Arashi's lips. "Then don't."
Ken turned away, walking toward his room.
But just before he closed the door, he called out—
"Wear a shirt this time."
Arashi's laugh echoed down the hall.
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