In the hazy quiet of an afternoon, the dim light filtered through a narrow gap in the curtains, painting soft patterns on the walls. Despite the sweltering heat outside, the air conditioner hummed quietly, maintaining a pleasant temperature within the room. Sleek furnishings and minimalist décor created a sophisticated and elegant atmosphere dominated by the large bed. The only visible sign of life was a messy black hair peeking out from beneath the duvet.

As consciousness slowly returned, it brought with it an intense headache, throbbing relentlessly against his temples. With a pained groan, he sank deeper into the soft pillow, which smelled unmistakably like Jay. In fact, everything around him seemed to carry Jay's scent. And this wasn't his own bed. Startled by this sudden realisation, Sean jolted up. It was a big mistake. His headache exploded, his stomach protested, and he dropped back onto the mattress, trying to keep it together. The glass of water and a box of painkillers on the bedside table felt like a blessing. Sean swallowed two tablets and closed his eyes, trying to piece together how he ended up in Jay's bed, wearing what appeared to be Jay's pyjama trousers.

"What the hell did I do?" he muttered, massaging his forehead.

Sean racked his brain, trying to recall the events of the previous night. He remembered stumbling into Wong's Place – his favourite bar ever, not only because drinks were free but also because the owner was an old family friend. Then he grabbed a bottle of whisky and, at Wong's request, texted Izzy for a ride home later. But after this... who did he meet? The memory was foggy, elusive, like trying to grasp at smoke. He strained to focus, but all he could conjure was a vague impression of a conversation – something important, perhaps? Sean groaned with annoyance.

He sat up on the bed, moving much slower this time as each movement sent shockwaves of pain through his head. He blinked a few times, gradually adjusting to the dim light filtering through the room. It was as if Jay had deliberately left a narrow gap in the blackout curtains, allowing just enough light to penetrate the darkness and let him find his bearings. His phone was on the nightstand, besides water and paracetamol. On the ottoman at the foot of the bed, he noticed a neatly folded towel and a fresh set of clothes.

There was a voice he didn't know in the back of his mind telling him that maybe he didn't want to see it. See what? Confused, Sean ran his hands over his face, wishing for painkillers to kick in already. Suddenly, he froze...

"What the fuck is this?!"

His forearms were covered in wonky handwriting he didn't recognise. Clearly, the person wielding the black marker had been as drunk as he was. It was a jumbled mess in various shapes and sizes. Some words were in capital letters, others barely recognisable, and most didn't make sense. He squinted his eyes. Were those tiny hearts? And anarchy symbol? Seriously, what happened to him last night?

Sean turned on the bedside lamp, determined to read them all and try to find some clues.

"Tangled cables in Armani shoebox... what does it even mean?" he mumbled, reading the most prominent inscription. On the other arm had written in captions – PATIENCE – it seemed important, but why? "Small... affections or is it attentions," Sean wondered, tilting his head to get a better look.

Right below was something that looked like 'go with the flow', followed by relatively easy to decipher 'one thing at a time' and probably a compromise wrapping around his wrist.

"Walk... the... fine... line," he slowly read, turning his arm as he went. "As slop as he needs? Huh? Oh, it's slow...," Sean corrected himself, noticing a tiny 'w' above slop. "You're already in it... in what exactly?"

Rest was unreadable, suggesting whoever made this list got progressively drunkier. Sean sighed. None of this explained what the hell he did last night and how he ended up at Jay's... Jay... His eyes widened with sudden realisation, scanning through messy inscriptions. They all were related to his 'relationship' with Jay, but what did those drunken scribbles mean? Advice? Possibly, but it made very little sense to him.

His gaze fell on the towel and spare clothes, including an unopened package with underwear, then shifted towards water and painkillers... the perfect level of light in the room. 'Little attentions... does it mean pay attention to little things?' Sean couldn't help but smile despite his pounding headache. How could he not have noticed before that Jay wasn't just considerate? Jay was considerate towards him, down to the tiniest detail. People who don't care don't act like this, right?

Dark eyes rested on very wonky 'you're already in it', and Sean felt genuine hope for the first time in weeks. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a possibility for them to progress into something more meaningful. He understood now that he needed to be patient and take things one step at a time and as slowly as necessary. There had to be a deeper reason why Jay maintained such rigid boundaries, something not easily solved. And Jay... Jay was worth the effort.

Suddenly, his breath hitched as he realised he had completely missed it, dismissing it as a joke. What if Jay's seemingly offhand remark about feeling sorry for anyone who ended up with him wasn't just a joke? What if it was a genuine expression of his self-doubt and apprehension? Sean slightly shook his head. Impossible, Jay was the most confident and charismatic person he knew... there was no way he would struggle with things like this. But then 'tangled cables in Armani shoebox' looked back at him as if mocking his lack of understanding.

Frustrated with himself, his inability to fully decipher the drunken scribbles on his arms, and his lingering headache, Sean finally mustered the energy to get out of bed. The room spun around him for a moment, but he steadied himself and reached for the neatly folded towel and a set of toiletries beside it.

With a smile at Jay's consideration, Sean walked into the ensuite bathroom, the cool tiles soothing beneath his feet. He turned on the shower, letting the sound of cascading water drown out his headache. Then he stepped underneath the warm stream and let out a sigh, more out of resignation than contentment, as the tension in his muscles slowly began to dissipate. Sean closed his eyes, allowing himself to believe that the warmth of the water could wash away the remnants of his hangover, if only temporarily. But as the seconds ticked by, the dull ache in his head and the queasiness in his stomach persisted. He leaned against the tiled wall, running one hand over his face. There was no denying it. Sean absolutely felt like shit.

Dressed in Jay's clothes, Sean stumbled into the living room, his hair still damp from the shower, droplets cascading down and disappearing into the t-shirt. His eyes were bloodshot, and dark circles hung heavily beneath them. Despite the attempt to freshen up, his skin retained a pallid hue, and his movements were sluggish, weighed down by the persistent throbbing in his head. He looked utterly miserable, his usual energy drained away by the relentless onslaught of his hangover.

Jay glanced up from his laptop, his cheeky one-sided smile faltering momentarily as he took in the sorry sight before him. "Wow, sixteen hours of sleep, and you still look like..."

Sean slightly raised his hand to stop him. "Believe me, I feel way worse than I look."

"I wasn't sure what your go-to hangover food was, so I made mine," he said, setting the laptop on the coffee table. "Do you want some?"

"You have go-to hangover food?"

"Of course, how do you think I survived high school and uni?" Jay asked playfully, pulling him towards the kitchen.

Sean settled onto a stool by the kitchen island, his eyes absentmindedly tracking Jay's movements as he drifted through his own thoughts. Though the shower had washed away the drunken inscriptions from his skin, Sean still vividly remembered them – well, at least the ones he could decipher. As a result, part of him couldn't shake the feeling that Jay cared about him more than he let on, perhaps even more than Jay himself realised. Sean couldn't confront him about it, nor could he push him into something more. Was the 'as slow as he needs' related to this? To give him time to work out his issues. Taking one day at a time sounded like the best plan for now, but Sean also realised that he had to stop playing by Jay's rules. Otherwise, nothing will change.

"Here, let me know if you prefer something else."

As Jay placed the bowl of congee in front of him, Sean's senses were instantly awakened by the aroma of the steaming broth. The tender pulled chicken meat and vibrant green spring onions floating in the clear, delicate rice porridge looked like pure comfort.

"It's perfect," Sean said, taking a spoonful.

He was used to Jay's cooking by now, but this exceeded his expectations. It was delicious but also incredibly soothing yet rejuvenating. Exactly what he needed, and it really woke him up.

"So... how did I end here?"

"Izzy called me yesterday asking if I could drag your corpse back home since he is out of town visiting Sari's family."

"Damn, I forgot about it."

Jay laughed lightly. "Yeah, I can imagine why... you were dead drunk. Did something happen?" he asked, dropping his playful tone.

'You happened,' Sean thought, hiding behind another spoonful of congee. "No, it was one of these days when you just need something to take the edge off."

He looked at him worriedly. "Did it help?"

Sean glanced at Jay over the steaming congee and smiled. "Not sure yet, but it seems promising. Was there anyone with me at Wong's?"

"The bar was still empty when I arrived, if not counting you passed out on the counter. But Wong told me he had sorted out the other one already. So, I guess that's a yes."

He reckoned this person must have been the one he spent the whole evening talking to about Jay, the same one who likely helped him come up with the list written on his skin. Yet, he had no idea who they were. Sean rubbed his temple and sighed. "Damn, I don't remember anything."

"Yeah... that doesn't exactly surprise me."

"Fuck me," Sean groaned.

His eyebrow quirked teasingly. "I can do that, but it would feel like taking advantage of a walking corpse."

"I would love to say I hate you right now, but that would be hypocritical, considering I'm eating your congee and clearly owe you a big time," he said with a soft chuckle. "Seriously, thank you... it must have been a pain in the ass to deal with."

Jay shook his head with a playful smile. "You are actually cute when you are this drunk."

Sean's pale skin turned even paler, and he almost dropped the spoon. "God... what did I do?"

Jay leaned over the kitchen island, mischievous sparks spilling from his eyes. It felt like a silent warning and made Sean question if he wanted to hear the answer.

"On second thought, please let me enjoy the bliss of ignorance."

"Are you sure? It was an unforgettable experience."

The teasing notes in Jay's voice made Sean realise that he made a good choice. "Absolutely, and feel free to make it a very forgettable experience."

Jay only smiled at him without saying a word, but it was clear he wouldn't forget it for a long time... a very long time.

Approximately 18 hours ago:

"Sean? Hey, Sean?" Jay gently shook his shoulder to rouse him, but there was no response.

"You are way too soft with him," Wong sighed, then slammed his hand on the bar beside Sean's head. "Oi, kid! Time to go home!"

Sean lifted his head, swaying dangerously on the stool. His gaze settled on Jay's face, and he instantly smiled. "That's funny... you look exactly like Jay," he giggled, leaning forward to get a better look.

Gravity wasn't on his side, and Sean tumbled face-first into Jay's chest. Luckily, Jay instinctively pulled him closer, preventing him from falling.

"You even smell like him," Sean mumbled.

"It's me, Sean," Jay said with a tinge of amusement in his voice. "Come, let's get you home."

Jay walked outside towards the waiting taxi with Sean draped over his shoulder like a particularly uncooperative sack of potatoes. Then he spent an eternity trying to convince Sean to get into the damn taxi after Sean decided that he hated the green and yellow colour scheme. Finally, Jay lost his patience and unceremoniously dumped him into the backseat. The driver couldn't be more relieved when they set off.

"Jay." Sean tugged at the sleeve of his hoodie.

"Yes?"

"Jay."

"What is it, Sean? Are you sick?"

Sean shook his head and snuggled into the crook of Jay's neck. "Jay... pillow..." he muttered before drifting off to sleep.

"Of course," Jay whispered, adjusting their position to make Sean more comfortable. He gathered him close and pressed a gentle kiss to his head.

After the thirty-minute ride, Sean refused to leave the taxi, clinging tightly to his "pillow" and effectively trapping Jay inside the car. It took enormous amounts of restraint not to simply drag him out by the collar and into the lift. Needless to say, Jay paid triple the fare to compensate the driver for the trouble.

Getting Sean into the bedroom went smoother than anticipated, but as soon as Jay attempted to change his clothes, he hit another roadblock. Despite coaxing, Sean adamantly refused to part with his garments, insisting he only had sex with one guy and intended to keep his clothes on. Jay couldn't help but chuckle at the irony.

"Yeah, that would be me, Sean."

Sean looked at him with sudden recognition and did a complete turnaround as he snuggled into Jay, rendering the clothing change impossible anyway. Finally, after a long and exhausting process – at least for the sober participant – Sean was washed, changed and put in bed.

"Get some sleep, okay? You will definitely feel it in the morning."

With a soft smile, Jay brushed a stray strand of hair from Sean's forehead. As he leaned in to kiss his forehead, Sean grabbed his wrist and pulled him down.

"Stay..."

"I can't stay. It's the middle of the workday for me."

In response, Sean only held him tighter, mumbling that his pillow needed to stay.

Jay found himself reluctant to leave him alone in this state. Sean was important, far more than he cared to admit. For days, Jay wrestled with conflicting emotions, unsure what to make of this growing attachment. Deep down, he knew he was falling for Sean, but the fear of hurting him loomed in the recesses of his mind, preventing him from acting on these feelings and inclining him to push Sean away.

Perhaps, just this once, he could stay by his side – even if only for a fleeting moment. The tiny part of him yearned for this, the feeling of belonging that Sean's presence gave him, knowing it was never meant to be his. If Sean needed him to stay, Jay would, even if it meant risking drowning in the process. It wouldn't be the first time he had to pick up the pieces and learn to be alone. But if he could spare Sean from hurt and disappointment, it was a small price to pay.

"Fine, I'll stay," he murmured, gently running his fingers through black hair until Sean's breathing steadied into a deep sleep.

Sean slowly finished his congee and leaned on the marble surface, his eyes fixed on Jay's face. A tiny crease between his eyebrows showed how absorbed Jay was in his work. It was unusual for him to be so busy around this time of the day, so Sean decided not to disturb him for now. Besides, he needed to figure out how to get closer to him without scaring Jay away. But one thing was certain, he was done letting him run away.

"If you want, you can take a nap and rest more. I still have some work to catch up on," Jay gestured towards his laptop, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Sean finally realised that Jay had likely sacrificed much of his precious work time for him last night, and nothing was more important to Jay than his work. Sean smiled faintly. He couldn't remember the last time something – outside sex with Jay – made him this happy.

He slowly stood up, closed the distance between them, cupped Jay's cheek, and lifted his head. Jay's initial reaction was subtle, a barely perceptible tensing of his muscles. However, Sean anticipated it. His touch became firmer yet still tender as he leaned in and kissed him softly. It was very slow and delicate, an affectionate gesture without expectations. Sean could feel Jay's hesitation and instinct to pull away, but he held him gently in place, silently asking him to stay in this moment just a little longer.

"Thank you for congee," Sean said, smiling at Jay's slightly confused expression. "You look like you could use a nap as well. I'm guessing you didn't get much work done or sleep because of me."

"It's fine, don't worry about it."

"This won't do," he protested, sounding dead serious. "You have a choice: either you continue with work while I make us dinner, or we both take a nap, and you cook something later," Sean added with a shameless grin.

Jay pressed his fingers against his nose bridge and sighed. "What kind of choice is this?" he deadpanned, looking straight at Sean.

"The one where someone is looking after you because you are clearly incapable of doing so," Sean argued, keeping his tone light and playful. "Besides knowing you, you are ahead of your work schedule... by a mile."

"I don't see how poisoning me would fit into it."

Sean grinned at him and pulled him up from the stool. "We shouldn't get too hung up on the minor details."

The last night made Jay acutely aware of how much he missed falling asleep with Sean. Yet, openly admitting it, even to himself, was a step he couldn't quite bring himself to take. It would mean acknowledging a need for someone, their presence and affection... a mistake Jay made once and ever since he had learned to avoid at all costs.

But in the end, Jay just shook his head with amused resignation and let Sean drag him to the bedroom. There was little point in arguing with him when he had set his mind on something.

And Sean? Sean figured out how to pull out one cable at a time and slowly untangle them all...