±0.001% (rounded off to three decimal places) [12/?]
kyumin | pg13 | ~3,500w | sungmin is a greeting card writer. he's good only at sympathy cards and rude only to dr. ch
beta → teexsaurus, if you leave me, i will eat all your beef. this is a threat.
a/n → this summary is so outdated that in contrast, my mum's harem pants appear to be in vogue. oh. wait.
Chapter 12: 幼稚 |Childish
Sungmin seemed too unperturbed for that shocking announcement. In fact, he was more disturbed by something else. “How did you know where I live?” he asked before proceeding to answer his own question. “Leeteuk,” he stated, voice flat as a silicon wafer.
Yesung grinned, the tip of his tongue snaked through those lips and ran over teeth too white to be natural before they retreated. He got out of the car, long legs sliding over leather, and leaned against the side of the vehicle. Smug smile too damning to be friendly.
In contrast to Sungmin’s relative indifference, Kyuhyun took great exception to Yesung’s statement. “Who is he? What is he saying?” He regarded Yesung uncertainly and moved to stand just slightly in front of Sungmin.
The curve of Yesung’s lips drooped. ‘Not again, doesn’t anyone care about the Hallyu wave anymore?’ “I am-no, why am I- who are you,“ he rebutted.
“He’s my client and he’s my flatmate.” Sungmin peeked out from behind Kyuhyun who frowned at Yesung. “I don’t belong to anyone,” he added. This was directed at Yesung.
The scowl on Kyuhyun’s face deepened just as Yesung’s smile reappeared. This was perhaps when their enmity was born. “We’ll see,” Yesung retaliated. He straightened himself, cocked his head to one side and introduced himself formally to Kyuhyun, “I’m a Hallyu superstar.”
“So?” Kyuhyun retorted without missing a beat. In his realm, the only superstars were Wilhelm Roux and Ross Granville Harrison.
Yesung threw his hands skywards and mouthed ‘why’ to the white clouds streaming above. His relatively mild reaction was further proof of human’s adaptability. Yesung had weathered far worse insults from Sungmin.
It might have been a glare but it slithered over Kyuhyun’s face too fast for anyone to catch it. “It’s Sungmin’s day off,” he said levelly, “and he’s not yours.” Then he stalked off, pulling Sungmin along.
“Wait, wait.” Sungmin still had some questions. He tried to dig in his heels but Kyuhyun was exerting quite a bit of force in his pull. There was a familiar expression on Kyuhyun’s face. The same one he had on when he left Sungmin in the lab, when Sungmin told him he couldn’t go to the lab with him, when Sungmin found him sitting in the driveway. So Sungmin ceased his struggles because he was tired of conflicts and he didn’t want to make Kyuhyun sad anymore. Yesung had to choose that moment to speak up, however.
“He’s not yours either,” he said, loud enough for the declaration to catch up with them. Kyuhyun paused at his words. He turned around with an incredulous look on his face, as if something important had just occurred to him. His gaze blurred the world out of focus for a moment before it sharpened, all too vividly on a single point.
Kyuhyun’s eyes dropped to his hand that was clutching Sungmin’s and he released it, grip loosening slowly, one finger at a time. Something shifted in Kyuhyun’s perspective, cleared his iridescent outlook and forced him to recall what he had magicked himself into forgetting, when he saw Sungmin tilting his head at him, looking confused.
He had no right to. Sungmin wasn’t his. Kyuhyun was almost sorry.
“Let’s go,” Sungmin whispered, not knowing why he had to. But Kyuhyun just kept looking at him with that expression Sungmin couldn’t stand. So this time, it was Sungmin who took Kyuhyun’s hand and dragged him out from their unfortunate situation. Not a backward glance was risked on Yesung.
. . . . . .
Sungmin had kept himself busy in the kitchen after they returned to the apartment. Ryeowook was nowhere to be seen. It was a weekday, he was probably still on the way home from work. After he put their luggage away, Kyuhyun settled into a chair at the kitchen table and watched Sungmin.
“Eat,” Sungmin instructed firmly, placing a bowl of kimchi fried rice in front of Kyuhyun before taking his seat opposite him.
“I’m fine,” Kyuhyun insisted but took the spoon the chick offered anyway. The next ten minutes were wasted in what seemed like silence but was in fact, anticipation. In the end, Sungmin figured it was his turn anyway and surrendered.
“You keep doing this thing,” he said.
Kyuhyun chewed his food thoughtfully. “What thing?” he asked, shoveling more rice into his mouth.
Sungmin ran a finger along the coarse grain of the wooden kitchen table. “This emotion cycle thing,” he clarified, tapping a fingernail on the wood, “I don’t know, do they even have a name for it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kyuhyun lied, putting the spoon down.
“You’re always sad or angry, for the most befuddling reasons. And then all of a sudden, you’re fine again. I don’t understand you at all.”
Kyuhyun blinked. Then he picked up the spoon and resumed eating. Aggressively. Sungmin’s brows furrowed at being ignored. They lifted the next instance though, when Kyuhyun pulled the spoon out of his mouth - teeth scraping against metal - and jabbed it in his direction. “I’m the one confused here so don’t you dare!’ he snarled.
Sungmin/Kyuhyun stared/glowered at Kyuhyun/Sungmin for a moment.
“I don’t confuse people,” Sungmin said. It was only half-true. He moved Kyuhyun’s outstretched arm aside so that the spoon was no longer pointing in his face.
Kyuhyun grimaced. “Says he doesn’t confuse people,” he muttered under his breath and then stopped breathing altogether when Sungmin half got up from his seat, reached out and rubbed his thumb against the corner of Kyuhyun’s lips.
“You’ve got sauce on your lips,” he said softly. Kyuhyun looked at Sungmin’s eyes which were inadvertently at half mast since they were focused on his own lips, intent on ridding the spot of sauce. The withering sun sent weak rays through the kitchen windows. Soft light fell on Sungmin’s lashes and its shadows were delicate tiny fans resting on the area just beneath his eyes. He was too close, Kyuhyun tried to scramble to safety but then Sungmin blinked. Mesmerized, Kyuhyun watched his lids fluttered shut for a second too long. There was a change in the angle Kyuhyun was tilting his head, a subtle tension in his jaw as he inched forward; it was all too telling. His stance propelled Ryeowook to tear himself from the spot where he was watching the scene and took broken flight back into his room. He didn’t emerge for the rest of the night. The two in the kitchen never noticed.
“Gone,” Sungmin surmised, wiping his thumb on a napkin he found amongst a forgotten pile on the dining table. He sat back down and Kyuhyun found himself facing empty cool air.
“You’re doing it again,” Sungmin lamented.
So are you.
“I don’t mean to,” said Kyuhyun, his words breathy.
“Can you stop it? I don’t like it when you’re like this.”
Kyuhyun counted three beats of silence. And then he was leaning forward. He ran a thumb against the jut of Sungmin’s lower lip, then skimmed it across from one corner to the other. It had been so long. He almost quitted this bad habit.
“I wasn’t eating, my mouth is not dirty,” Sungmin protested. Kyuhyun smiled and stopped but started squishing Sungmin’s face with both hands instead. It caused Sungmin’s heavy glasses to poke his eyelids. Revenge had never tasted better. “Stop it~” Sungmin attempted to halt Kyuhyun’s efforts by averting his face but was unsuccessful. His fatty face was forced back in position to facilitate abuse.
“Are we OK?” Sungmin managed to say through puckered lips.
Kyuhyun continued squashing Sungmin’s face but looked like he was in deep thought. “We are OK,” he finally decided before proceeding to mess up Sungmin’s hair.
“Are you OK?” Sungmin thought he better be more precise.
Kyuhyun’s face softened. He didn’t take so long with his reply this time. “I’ll be OK.”
His smile was reflected on Sungmin’s face.
. . . . . .
Somehow, they ended up on the couch watching TV that night. Specifically, Kyuhyun was watching TV, Sungmin was just watching Kyuhyun. The chick kept turning and giving him worried looks until Kyuhyun finally acknowledged him. He placed on a hand on Sungmin’s head and turned it until he was facing the TV. “Stop peeping at me.”
But Sungmin swiveled his head back. “You haven’t agreed to it, you know,” he said seriously.
Kyuhyun stirred the contents of his brain to no avail. “To what?”
Folding his legs in what he perceived to be a serious sitting position, Sungmin leaned forward, threaded his serious fingers together and pushed his glasses up very seriously. “You need to stop running away.”
Crap.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kyuhyun denied, hurriedly turning back to the TV. “Look the commercials are over.” He made Sungmin face the television screen again. It wasn’t the time for them to have this discussion yet. He hadn’t prepared his tear-jerking confession. But Sungmin tutted and wretched his head out of Kyuhyun’s grasp. They repeated this for a couple of minutes.
“Why are you so childish?” Sungmin admonished while he was trying to evade Kyuhyun’s hands. “I’m trying to have a serious discussion with you!”
Kyuhyun panicked and pushed Sungmin’s face until he was a safe arm’s length away. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, it’s not true!”
“What’s not true?” Sungmin asked the coffee table.
“I don’t know,” Kyuhyun shrugged nervously even though Sungmin couldn’t possibly see, since he was currently compelled to stare at the table.
Sungmin sighed. His neck was beginning to ache from all that stretching. “There’s nothing shameful about depression, Kyuhyun.”
“Har.” The hand that was holding Sungmin’s repulsive head away dropped. This was followed by Kyuhyun’s jaw.
Free at last, Sungmin scampered over to Kyuhyun’s side of the couch. “It’s OK, you can talk to me, I know you might be facing some difficulties in your life right now, I totally understand,” he said with sincerity he hoped could reach out to Kyuhyun. He petted Kyuhyun’s shoulder in a very kind manner.
Kyuhyun’s body reacted before his brain could. In a fit of incredulity, he slapped Sungmin’s head. “Oh shit. Damn. Sorry, that was sheer reflex.” To idiots.
Sungmin stuck out his trembling lower lip and looked utterly hurt. “You hit me.”
Kyuhyun looked twice as sorry as he helped massaged the sore spot. Then, “Have you been Googling again?”
To deflect the question, Sungmin continued to look like an abused kitten. “You haven’t been very happy recently, if there’s anything I can do to help, you can let me know. We are friends,” he said slowly because sincere understanding people always talk slowly.
“It’s nothing,” Kyuhyun said automatically.
“It’s me, isn’t it,” Sungmin suddenly changed tack.
Silence descended and stretched itself thin. Not quite knowing how to reply, Kyuhyun merely let his gaze wandered. But eager to clear the air, Sungmin ploughed on. ““You’re always sad or angry,” he repeated what he said earlier in the kitchen, “with me. Did I do something wrong?”
Kyuhyun stopped massaging Sungmin’s head. “I said I’ll be fine.”
However, Sungmin was adamant they resolve the issue once and for all. “No, no, you’ll be fine now, but what about later? Tomorrow? The week after?” he pressed on. “Just correct me.”
Closing his eyes, Kyuhyun threw his hands up. He flopped over on the couch like a dead seal over an iceberg. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he said, muffled against the cushion.
“How classic,” Sungmin deadpanned.
“It’s true.” Turning his head over, Kyuhyun rolled one eye up to survey Sungmin. He still looked confused and kind of upset. That turned Kyuhyun’s heart to mush. “Give me some time,” he murmured. Sungmin was crestfallen because that semi-verified what he said, but he nodded, lowering his head and fidgeted with the buttons on his black PJs.
“Your buttons are coming loose,” Kyuhyun observed, head still half buried in the couch. He executed a clever turn and flipped himself upright. “Where do you keep the sewing kit?” Diversion, always a great tactic.
Sungmin casted narrow suspicious eyes at the big bad scientist. “What are you planning to do?”
“Sew your eyes shut, of course.”
Sungmin was caught between frowning and pouting.
. . . . . .
It took Kyuhyun only four forevers to thread the needle. “OK!” he chorused enthusiastically, “Take off your shirt.”
Clutching the front of his top, Sungmin shook his head. “You can’t sew.”
He had a point. Kyuhyun pursed his lips. “But I’ve watched people sew before. Doesn’t seem very difficult.”
“I’ve seen people getting boob jobs before but doesn’t mean I’m going to get one!”
The pursing of Kyuhyun’s lips intensified. “Where did you see that?”
“Discovery.”
“Oh. But why not?”
Sungmin flung the only weapon he had at Kyuhyun’s face. But in a motion as swift as the migrating monarch butterfly, Kyuhyun kicked the cushion aside and dragged the defenseless Sungmin into his lap. “I’m starting,” he trilled before sticking the needle through the hole of the first button. It was even more difficult than he thought as Sungmin was struggling to get out of his lap. “No promises on not pricking you if you continue to wiggle,” warned Kyuhyun.
Sungmin froze. “What if you stick the needle into me!” he gasped through clenched teeth.
“Hmmm.” Kyuhyun was kind enough to ponder over this possibility. “Just treat it as acupuncture then.” The needle refused to be pulled out. Kyuhyun tugged harder on it and Sungmin had to resist whimpering. Upon closer investigation, it seemed that Kyuhyun’s amateur skills had caused the needle to be caught in a knot. He inched closer to Sungmin’s chest in order to try and resolve the mini crisis. The top of Kyuhyun’s head nudged Sungmin’s chin. He smelled rosehip.
“Did you use my shampoo?” Sungmin asked, lowering his head and taking a sniff of Kyuhyun’s hair.
“No one used your girly shampoo,” Kyuhyun retorted. He straightened up a little to glare at Sungmin. The motion caused Sungmin’s lips to graze the corner of Kyuhyun’s mouth. They blinked at each other. Nobody breathed.
Scientists have discovered that emotional stimulation can cause significant changes in heart rate. A person’s emotional status is betrayed by his heartbeat. When he becomes anxious, upset, excited, etc, the nervous system kicks in as an automatic response, it releases adrenaline and raises his pulse. This is a natural "fight or flight" reaction, which speeds up his heart and provides for rapid mobilization of the bodily reserves by revving the body’s engine.
So that’s what was happening to Sungmin right now. Did he and Kyuhyun just have lip contact again? Why did it feel so different now that he was sober? Something was wrong with his heart. He clasped a hand across his heart and worried about his mortality.
Sungmin was about to bolt when Kyuhyun made the first move by looking away. “Ryeowook and I share the same shampoo,” he said, snapping the thread free from the first button and moving on to the second one. “We prefer menthol.”
“Gah,” Sungmin replied intelligently. For some really un-self-persevering reason, his brain was rejecting its regular supply of oxygen. “You two,” he flounced, “are really close, aren’t you?”
“Better than the socially awkward, yes,” Kyuhyun smirked. His fingers were quicker now, they moved in complicated motions as he tied a knot to the thread.
Sungmin bristled. “We are close too,” he said defensively.
A couple of seconds jogged by before Kyuhyun elevated his head. “Are we?” His words were released together with puffs of air that skipped their way across Sungmin’s cheek. This was exactly why Sungmin’s heart started doing its thing again. He widened his eyes at Kyuhyun who misinterpreted his shock as outrage over his question and gave a small shrug before resuming his needlework.
In a split instance, Sungmin was suddenly too aware of the fact that they were indeed too close for comfort. He was sitting on Kyuhyun’s thigh with his head tucked beneath his chin. Kyuhyun’s hair was tickling Sungmin so he arched his stiff neck ungracefully and focused on the cracking paint of the ceiling. Had it been so hot a few minutes ago? He swallowed audibly and attempted to creep slowly away from the heat source.
“Stop moving,” Kyuhyun mumbled, fingers moving between buttonholes to steady his work. He touched heated bare skin and Sungmin gripped Kyuhyun’s right arm in response, but he barely flinched. As if he had no idea what he was doing, Kyuhyun put an arm around Sungmin’s waist and locked him into an embrace. “You don’t want to get pricked.” Kyuhyun quirked his lips and snuggled closer, feeling the tension coiled in Sungmin’s spine. At least Sungmin wasn’t so unaffected (Oh, Dr. Cho, you had no idea). Its work finished, the needle had already been kept back into the needle case.
It was getting too hot. Sungmin’s glasses were beginning to glaze over with mild condensation. Lacking oxygen again, Sungmin took a deep breath but inhaled rosehip, the scent warm, luscious and utterly invasive. His heart was still out of control and Sungmin was almost on the verge of hyperventilation when Kyuhyun threw him off his lap.
“Done,” he said, standing upright and watching Sungmin lay in a daze on the couch, cheeks flushed. “Are you alright?” It was asked out of genuine concern. The chick looked like he had just finished a marathon. Kyuhyun walked over to the cabinet and placed the sewing kit back.
“I,” Sungmin began and stopped. He didn’t know what just transpired. Best to get his feelings verified. “Just now, did you feel-“ His phone interrupted him just then by vibrating most fervently on the coffee table. Kyuhyun passed him his black cell and watched the plethora of expressions played out on Sungmin’s face as he read the message.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Leeteuk,” Sungmin said fearfully, in case he provoked Kyuhyun into a relapse.
Kyuhyun braced himself for impact.
“He wants me to drop this assignment.”
. . . . . .
That night, Kyuhyun lay on bed and did some spring cleaning. He bundled up a couple of memories, cleared away the pending decisions that had to be made and stashed them away in a dusty corner of his mind.
He would stop this ‘emotion cycle’ he had been subjecting Sungmin to.
It really didn’t matter anyway. Not in the long run. Because Kyuhyun had an emotion filter. He used it to sift out all his thoughts. Good ones sailed through the filter and nestled in his mind, brought out every now and then to survive those rainy days. Bad ones were seized in the net and tossed out in the next Zen (or really, just mindless gaming) session. The really good ones, those few precious moments of euphoria, he hoarded in his heart. That was where Sungmin resided. That was how Kyuhyun remembered Sungmin.
All of him was good.
. . . . . .
Yesterday was Friday, today it is Saturday, which means people can sleep in until the sun baked their butts red. When Sungmin shuffled into the kitchen at eight a.m., however, he discovered a tiny miracle. Kyuhyun was sitting sternly at the kitchen table, eating a tub of disgusting Cherry Garcia together with a cup of milk tea; a heart attack in progress. He nodded solemnly at Sungmin who nodded in returned. The next nod was aimed at the seat across from him but both Sungmin and the chair ignored him.
“I mean, sit,” Kyuhyun munched on his cherries.
“Orh.” Sungmin hastily sat down. And questioned his own obedience.
Kyuhyun cleared his throat. “I have decided to let you go take on that assignment with Yesung.”
There was nothing on Sungmin’s face. He didn’t even wrinkle his nose. “I never asked for your permission.”
“Shush!” Kyuhyun hushed him loudly. “Don’t interrupt me.”
“I thought you’re done-“
“Shushhh!”
Sungmin flattened his lips like a platypus.
“I have decided to let you go take on that assignment with Yesung-“
“We’ve been there.”
“Why are you so rude.”
Sungmin smacked his lips in satisfaction.
“I have decided to let you go take on that assignment with Yesung, if you would learn driving.”
“What?” Sungmin wrinkled his nose.
“I have decided to let you go take on that assignment with Yesung, if you-“
”I heard you perfectly well the first time,” growled Sungmin. He was an expert at growling now and rumbled a second time for emphasis.
“Then I’m sure you will agree.” Dr. Cho smiled sweetly and Sungmin shivered despite himself. Kyuhyun’s lap suddenly gave birth to a driving manual. Fanning himself leisurely with it, he warbled, “Let’s begin.”
tbc
p.s: how about weekly updates edit: omg im sorry. what heavenly illusions i sometimes have! must be all that pie
p.p.s.: i solemnly swear that i'll focus on writing nothing but this fic that i am up to no good
p.p.p.s.: a few are worried i'll ditch this fic but rly, i won't, its just that....it might take 3 years. look, only one night has passed in this update (this sounds rly familiar hmmm)
beta → teexsaurus, if you leave me, i will eat all your beef. this is a threat.
a/n → this summary is so outdated that in contrast, my mum's harem pants appear to be in vogue. oh. wait.
Chapter 12: 幼稚 |Childish
Sungmin seemed too unperturbed for that shocking announcement. In fact, he was more disturbed by something else. “How did you know where I live?” he asked before proceeding to answer his own question. “Leeteuk,” he stated, voice flat as a silicon wafer.
Yesung grinned, the tip of his tongue snaked through those lips and ran over teeth too white to be natural before they retreated. He got out of the car, long legs sliding over leather, and leaned against the side of the vehicle. Smug smile too damning to be friendly.
In contrast to Sungmin’s relative indifference, Kyuhyun took great exception to Yesung’s statement. “Who is he? What is he saying?” He regarded Yesung uncertainly and moved to stand just slightly in front of Sungmin.
The curve of Yesung’s lips drooped. ‘Not again, doesn’t anyone care about the Hallyu wave anymore?’ “I am-no, why am I- who are you,“ he rebutted.
“He’s my client and he’s my flatmate.” Sungmin peeked out from behind Kyuhyun who frowned at Yesung. “I don’t belong to anyone,” he added. This was directed at Yesung.
The scowl on Kyuhyun’s face deepened just as Yesung’s smile reappeared. This was perhaps when their enmity was born. “We’ll see,” Yesung retaliated. He straightened himself, cocked his head to one side and introduced himself formally to Kyuhyun, “I’m a Hallyu superstar.”
“So?” Kyuhyun retorted without missing a beat. In his realm, the only superstars were Wilhelm Roux and Ross Granville Harrison.
Yesung threw his hands skywards and mouthed ‘why’ to the white clouds streaming above. His relatively mild reaction was further proof of human’s adaptability. Yesung had weathered far worse insults from Sungmin.
It might have been a glare but it slithered over Kyuhyun’s face too fast for anyone to catch it. “It’s Sungmin’s day off,” he said levelly, “and he’s not yours.” Then he stalked off, pulling Sungmin along.
“Wait, wait.” Sungmin still had some questions. He tried to dig in his heels but Kyuhyun was exerting quite a bit of force in his pull. There was a familiar expression on Kyuhyun’s face. The same one he had on when he left Sungmin in the lab, when Sungmin told him he couldn’t go to the lab with him, when Sungmin found him sitting in the driveway. So Sungmin ceased his struggles because he was tired of conflicts and he didn’t want to make Kyuhyun sad anymore. Yesung had to choose that moment to speak up, however.
“He’s not yours either,” he said, loud enough for the declaration to catch up with them. Kyuhyun paused at his words. He turned around with an incredulous look on his face, as if something important had just occurred to him. His gaze blurred the world out of focus for a moment before it sharpened, all too vividly on a single point.
Kyuhyun’s eyes dropped to his hand that was clutching Sungmin’s and he released it, grip loosening slowly, one finger at a time. Something shifted in Kyuhyun’s perspective, cleared his iridescent outlook and forced him to recall what he had magicked himself into forgetting, when he saw Sungmin tilting his head at him, looking confused.
He had no right to. Sungmin wasn’t his. Kyuhyun was almost sorry.
“Let’s go,” Sungmin whispered, not knowing why he had to. But Kyuhyun just kept looking at him with that expression Sungmin couldn’t stand. So this time, it was Sungmin who took Kyuhyun’s hand and dragged him out from their unfortunate situation. Not a backward glance was risked on Yesung.
. . . . . .
Sungmin had kept himself busy in the kitchen after they returned to the apartment. Ryeowook was nowhere to be seen. It was a weekday, he was probably still on the way home from work. After he put their luggage away, Kyuhyun settled into a chair at the kitchen table and watched Sungmin.
“Eat,” Sungmin instructed firmly, placing a bowl of kimchi fried rice in front of Kyuhyun before taking his seat opposite him.
“I’m fine,” Kyuhyun insisted but took the spoon the chick offered anyway. The next ten minutes were wasted in what seemed like silence but was in fact, anticipation. In the end, Sungmin figured it was his turn anyway and surrendered.
“You keep doing this thing,” he said.
Kyuhyun chewed his food thoughtfully. “What thing?” he asked, shoveling more rice into his mouth.
Sungmin ran a finger along the coarse grain of the wooden kitchen table. “This emotion cycle thing,” he clarified, tapping a fingernail on the wood, “I don’t know, do they even have a name for it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kyuhyun lied, putting the spoon down.
“You’re always sad or angry, for the most befuddling reasons. And then all of a sudden, you’re fine again. I don’t understand you at all.”
Kyuhyun blinked. Then he picked up the spoon and resumed eating. Aggressively. Sungmin’s brows furrowed at being ignored. They lifted the next instance though, when Kyuhyun pulled the spoon out of his mouth - teeth scraping against metal - and jabbed it in his direction. “I’m the one confused here so don’t you dare!’ he snarled.
Sungmin/Kyuhyun stared/glowered at Kyuhyun/Sungmin for a moment.
“I don’t confuse people,” Sungmin said. It was only half-true. He moved Kyuhyun’s outstretched arm aside so that the spoon was no longer pointing in his face.
Kyuhyun grimaced. “Says he doesn’t confuse people,” he muttered under his breath and then stopped breathing altogether when Sungmin half got up from his seat, reached out and rubbed his thumb against the corner of Kyuhyun’s lips.
“You’ve got sauce on your lips,” he said softly. Kyuhyun looked at Sungmin’s eyes which were inadvertently at half mast since they were focused on his own lips, intent on ridding the spot of sauce. The withering sun sent weak rays through the kitchen windows. Soft light fell on Sungmin’s lashes and its shadows were delicate tiny fans resting on the area just beneath his eyes. He was too close, Kyuhyun tried to scramble to safety but then Sungmin blinked. Mesmerized, Kyuhyun watched his lids fluttered shut for a second too long. There was a change in the angle Kyuhyun was tilting his head, a subtle tension in his jaw as he inched forward; it was all too telling. His stance propelled Ryeowook to tear himself from the spot where he was watching the scene and took broken flight back into his room. He didn’t emerge for the rest of the night. The two in the kitchen never noticed.
“Gone,” Sungmin surmised, wiping his thumb on a napkin he found amongst a forgotten pile on the dining table. He sat back down and Kyuhyun found himself facing empty cool air.
“You’re doing it again,” Sungmin lamented.
So are you.
“I don’t mean to,” said Kyuhyun, his words breathy.
“Can you stop it? I don’t like it when you’re like this.”
Kyuhyun counted three beats of silence. And then he was leaning forward. He ran a thumb against the jut of Sungmin’s lower lip, then skimmed it across from one corner to the other. It had been so long. He almost quitted this bad habit.
“I wasn’t eating, my mouth is not dirty,” Sungmin protested. Kyuhyun smiled and stopped but started squishing Sungmin’s face with both hands instead. It caused Sungmin’s heavy glasses to poke his eyelids. Revenge had never tasted better. “Stop it~” Sungmin attempted to halt Kyuhyun’s efforts by averting his face but was unsuccessful. His fatty face was forced back in position to facilitate abuse.
“Are we OK?” Sungmin managed to say through puckered lips.
Kyuhyun continued squashing Sungmin’s face but looked like he was in deep thought. “We are OK,” he finally decided before proceeding to mess up Sungmin’s hair.
“Are you OK?” Sungmin thought he better be more precise.
Kyuhyun’s face softened. He didn’t take so long with his reply this time. “I’ll be OK.”
His smile was reflected on Sungmin’s face.
. . . . . .
Somehow, they ended up on the couch watching TV that night. Specifically, Kyuhyun was watching TV, Sungmin was just watching Kyuhyun. The chick kept turning and giving him worried looks until Kyuhyun finally acknowledged him. He placed on a hand on Sungmin’s head and turned it until he was facing the TV. “Stop peeping at me.”
But Sungmin swiveled his head back. “You haven’t agreed to it, you know,” he said seriously.
Kyuhyun stirred the contents of his brain to no avail. “To what?”
Folding his legs in what he perceived to be a serious sitting position, Sungmin leaned forward, threaded his serious fingers together and pushed his glasses up very seriously. “You need to stop running away.”
Crap.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kyuhyun denied, hurriedly turning back to the TV. “Look the commercials are over.” He made Sungmin face the television screen again. It wasn’t the time for them to have this discussion yet. He hadn’t prepared his tear-jerking confession. But Sungmin tutted and wretched his head out of Kyuhyun’s grasp. They repeated this for a couple of minutes.
“Why are you so childish?” Sungmin admonished while he was trying to evade Kyuhyun’s hands. “I’m trying to have a serious discussion with you!”
Kyuhyun panicked and pushed Sungmin’s face until he was a safe arm’s length away. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, it’s not true!”
“What’s not true?” Sungmin asked the coffee table.
“I don’t know,” Kyuhyun shrugged nervously even though Sungmin couldn’t possibly see, since he was currently compelled to stare at the table.
Sungmin sighed. His neck was beginning to ache from all that stretching. “There’s nothing shameful about depression, Kyuhyun.”
“Har.” The hand that was holding Sungmin’s repulsive head away dropped. This was followed by Kyuhyun’s jaw.
Free at last, Sungmin scampered over to Kyuhyun’s side of the couch. “It’s OK, you can talk to me, I know you might be facing some difficulties in your life right now, I totally understand,” he said with sincerity he hoped could reach out to Kyuhyun. He petted Kyuhyun’s shoulder in a very kind manner.
Kyuhyun’s body reacted before his brain could. In a fit of incredulity, he slapped Sungmin’s head. “Oh shit. Damn. Sorry, that was sheer reflex.” To idiots.
Sungmin stuck out his trembling lower lip and looked utterly hurt. “You hit me.”
Kyuhyun looked twice as sorry as he helped massaged the sore spot. Then, “Have you been Googling again?”
To deflect the question, Sungmin continued to look like an abused kitten. “You haven’t been very happy recently, if there’s anything I can do to help, you can let me know. We are friends,” he said slowly because sincere understanding people always talk slowly.
“It’s nothing,” Kyuhyun said automatically.
“It’s me, isn’t it,” Sungmin suddenly changed tack.
Silence descended and stretched itself thin. Not quite knowing how to reply, Kyuhyun merely let his gaze wandered. But eager to clear the air, Sungmin ploughed on. ““You’re always sad or angry,” he repeated what he said earlier in the kitchen, “with me. Did I do something wrong?”
Kyuhyun stopped massaging Sungmin’s head. “I said I’ll be fine.”
However, Sungmin was adamant they resolve the issue once and for all. “No, no, you’ll be fine now, but what about later? Tomorrow? The week after?” he pressed on. “Just correct me.”
Closing his eyes, Kyuhyun threw his hands up. He flopped over on the couch like a dead seal over an iceberg. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he said, muffled against the cushion.
“How classic,” Sungmin deadpanned.
“It’s true.” Turning his head over, Kyuhyun rolled one eye up to survey Sungmin. He still looked confused and kind of upset. That turned Kyuhyun’s heart to mush. “Give me some time,” he murmured. Sungmin was crestfallen because that semi-verified what he said, but he nodded, lowering his head and fidgeted with the buttons on his black PJs.
“Your buttons are coming loose,” Kyuhyun observed, head still half buried in the couch. He executed a clever turn and flipped himself upright. “Where do you keep the sewing kit?” Diversion, always a great tactic.
Sungmin casted narrow suspicious eyes at the big bad scientist. “What are you planning to do?”
“Sew your eyes shut, of course.”
Sungmin was caught between frowning and pouting.
. . . . . .
It took Kyuhyun only four forevers to thread the needle. “OK!” he chorused enthusiastically, “Take off your shirt.”
Clutching the front of his top, Sungmin shook his head. “You can’t sew.”
He had a point. Kyuhyun pursed his lips. “But I’ve watched people sew before. Doesn’t seem very difficult.”
“I’ve seen people getting boob jobs before but doesn’t mean I’m going to get one!”
The pursing of Kyuhyun’s lips intensified. “Where did you see that?”
“Discovery.”
“Oh. But why not?”
Sungmin flung the only weapon he had at Kyuhyun’s face. But in a motion as swift as the migrating monarch butterfly, Kyuhyun kicked the cushion aside and dragged the defenseless Sungmin into his lap. “I’m starting,” he trilled before sticking the needle through the hole of the first button. It was even more difficult than he thought as Sungmin was struggling to get out of his lap. “No promises on not pricking you if you continue to wiggle,” warned Kyuhyun.
Sungmin froze. “What if you stick the needle into me!” he gasped through clenched teeth.
“Hmmm.” Kyuhyun was kind enough to ponder over this possibility. “Just treat it as acupuncture then.” The needle refused to be pulled out. Kyuhyun tugged harder on it and Sungmin had to resist whimpering. Upon closer investigation, it seemed that Kyuhyun’s amateur skills had caused the needle to be caught in a knot. He inched closer to Sungmin’s chest in order to try and resolve the mini crisis. The top of Kyuhyun’s head nudged Sungmin’s chin. He smelled rosehip.
“Did you use my shampoo?” Sungmin asked, lowering his head and taking a sniff of Kyuhyun’s hair.
“No one used your girly shampoo,” Kyuhyun retorted. He straightened up a little to glare at Sungmin. The motion caused Sungmin’s lips to graze the corner of Kyuhyun’s mouth. They blinked at each other. Nobody breathed.
Scientists have discovered that emotional stimulation can cause significant changes in heart rate. A person’s emotional status is betrayed by his heartbeat. When he becomes anxious, upset, excited, etc, the nervous system kicks in as an automatic response, it releases adrenaline and raises his pulse. This is a natural "fight or flight" reaction, which speeds up his heart and provides for rapid mobilization of the bodily reserves by revving the body’s engine.
So that’s what was happening to Sungmin right now. Did he and Kyuhyun just have lip contact again? Why did it feel so different now that he was sober? Something was wrong with his heart. He clasped a hand across his heart and worried about his mortality.
Sungmin was about to bolt when Kyuhyun made the first move by looking away. “Ryeowook and I share the same shampoo,” he said, snapping the thread free from the first button and moving on to the second one. “We prefer menthol.”
“Gah,” Sungmin replied intelligently. For some really un-self-persevering reason, his brain was rejecting its regular supply of oxygen. “You two,” he flounced, “are really close, aren’t you?”
“Better than the socially awkward, yes,” Kyuhyun smirked. His fingers were quicker now, they moved in complicated motions as he tied a knot to the thread.
Sungmin bristled. “We are close too,” he said defensively.
A couple of seconds jogged by before Kyuhyun elevated his head. “Are we?” His words were released together with puffs of air that skipped their way across Sungmin’s cheek. This was exactly why Sungmin’s heart started doing its thing again. He widened his eyes at Kyuhyun who misinterpreted his shock as outrage over his question and gave a small shrug before resuming his needlework.
In a split instance, Sungmin was suddenly too aware of the fact that they were indeed too close for comfort. He was sitting on Kyuhyun’s thigh with his head tucked beneath his chin. Kyuhyun’s hair was tickling Sungmin so he arched his stiff neck ungracefully and focused on the cracking paint of the ceiling. Had it been so hot a few minutes ago? He swallowed audibly and attempted to creep slowly away from the heat source.
“Stop moving,” Kyuhyun mumbled, fingers moving between buttonholes to steady his work. He touched heated bare skin and Sungmin gripped Kyuhyun’s right arm in response, but he barely flinched. As if he had no idea what he was doing, Kyuhyun put an arm around Sungmin’s waist and locked him into an embrace. “You don’t want to get pricked.” Kyuhyun quirked his lips and snuggled closer, feeling the tension coiled in Sungmin’s spine. At least Sungmin wasn’t so unaffected (Oh, Dr. Cho, you had no idea). Its work finished, the needle had already been kept back into the needle case.
It was getting too hot. Sungmin’s glasses were beginning to glaze over with mild condensation. Lacking oxygen again, Sungmin took a deep breath but inhaled rosehip, the scent warm, luscious and utterly invasive. His heart was still out of control and Sungmin was almost on the verge of hyperventilation when Kyuhyun threw him off his lap.
“Done,” he said, standing upright and watching Sungmin lay in a daze on the couch, cheeks flushed. “Are you alright?” It was asked out of genuine concern. The chick looked like he had just finished a marathon. Kyuhyun walked over to the cabinet and placed the sewing kit back.
“I,” Sungmin began and stopped. He didn’t know what just transpired. Best to get his feelings verified. “Just now, did you feel-“ His phone interrupted him just then by vibrating most fervently on the coffee table. Kyuhyun passed him his black cell and watched the plethora of expressions played out on Sungmin’s face as he read the message.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Leeteuk,” Sungmin said fearfully, in case he provoked Kyuhyun into a relapse.
Kyuhyun braced himself for impact.
“He wants me to drop this assignment.”
. . . . . .
That night, Kyuhyun lay on bed and did some spring cleaning. He bundled up a couple of memories, cleared away the pending decisions that had to be made and stashed them away in a dusty corner of his mind.
He would stop this ‘emotion cycle’ he had been subjecting Sungmin to.
It really didn’t matter anyway. Not in the long run. Because Kyuhyun had an emotion filter. He used it to sift out all his thoughts. Good ones sailed through the filter and nestled in his mind, brought out every now and then to survive those rainy days. Bad ones were seized in the net and tossed out in the next Zen (or really, just mindless gaming) session. The really good ones, those few precious moments of euphoria, he hoarded in his heart. That was where Sungmin resided. That was how Kyuhyun remembered Sungmin.
All of him was good.
. . . . . .
Yesterday was Friday, today it is Saturday, which means people can sleep in until the sun baked their butts red. When Sungmin shuffled into the kitchen at eight a.m., however, he discovered a tiny miracle. Kyuhyun was sitting sternly at the kitchen table, eating a tub of disgusting Cherry Garcia together with a cup of milk tea; a heart attack in progress. He nodded solemnly at Sungmin who nodded in returned. The next nod was aimed at the seat across from him but both Sungmin and the chair ignored him.
“I mean, sit,” Kyuhyun munched on his cherries.
“Orh.” Sungmin hastily sat down. And questioned his own obedience.
Kyuhyun cleared his throat. “I have decided to let you go take on that assignment with Yesung.”
There was nothing on Sungmin’s face. He didn’t even wrinkle his nose. “I never asked for your permission.”
“Shush!” Kyuhyun hushed him loudly. “Don’t interrupt me.”
“I thought you’re done-“
“Shushhh!”
Sungmin flattened his lips like a platypus.
“I have decided to let you go take on that assignment with Yesung-“
“We’ve been there.”
“Why are you so rude.”
Sungmin smacked his lips in satisfaction.
“I have decided to let you go take on that assignment with Yesung, if you would learn driving.”
“What?” Sungmin wrinkled his nose.
“I have decided to let you go take on that assignment with Yesung, if you-“
”I heard you perfectly well the first time,” growled Sungmin. He was an expert at growling now and rumbled a second time for emphasis.
“Then I’m sure you will agree.” Dr. Cho smiled sweetly and Sungmin shivered despite himself. Kyuhyun’s lap suddenly gave birth to a driving manual. Fanning himself leisurely with it, he warbled, “Let’s begin.”
tbc
p.s: how about weekly updates edit: omg im sorry. what heavenly illusions i sometimes have! must be all that pie
p.p.s.: i solemnly swear that i'll focus on writing nothing but this fic that i am up to no good
p.p.p.s.: a few are worried i'll ditch this fic but rly, i won't, its just that....it might take 3 years. look, only one night has passed in this update (this sounds rly familiar hmmm)