±0.001% (rounded off to three decimal places) [13/?]
kyumin | pg13 | ~5,300w | sungmin is a greeting card writer. he's good only at sympathy cards and rude only to dr. cho
beta → teexsaurus, who complimented me. heh.
a/n → yes sir, yes sir, 3 bags full
Chapter 13: 安全区 | Comfort Zone
I don’t want to.”
“Why not?” Kyuhyun asked knowingly. The question hung in the air and weighed them down. A breeze filtered through the kitchen but did nothing to dissipate the growing tension. Sungmin was insistent on not helping Kyuhyun. That was OK, that was within expectations.
Sungmin’s reluctance to broach the subject was found in the slump of his shoulders, the angle he was leaning away from Kyuhyun; a spooked butterfly on the verge spreading its fragile wings. Kyuhyun was denied the courtesy of an answer.
“I know I’m too nice and generous but you’re always welcomed to my car.”
“I’m giving you free driving lessons. I understand free things might be tough for most people to accept but I’ve always thought you liked free things.”
“What’s there to lose?”
Just pride. Maybe.
With irritation, Sungmin pushed back his chair and stalked away for some really vigorous teeth brushing.
Cherry Garcia was so gross, Kyuyun surmised. He opened the freezer and traded it for a pint of Dublin Mudslide. Chocolate. Much more effective as a mood lifter.
. . . . .
Saturday was spent with Sungmin avoiding whatever he could of Kyuhyun, which was kind of difficult since they were living in a tiny apartment.
When Sungmin strolled into the kitchen to cook rice cake soup for lunch in the afternoon, he saw Kyuhyun fiddling with the buttons of the washing machine (since Sungmin had most conveniently forgotten to collect his pile of clothes when he was doing laundry that day). He smiled gleefully to himself when he heard Kyuhyun muttered ‘Earth-destroying, water-wasting midget’ under his breath. But then he turned his back to the stove and he could feel Kyuhyun judging his hairstyle, judging his black cotton tee, judging the back of his fat stumpy calves. He whipped around to glare at Kyuhyun who then proceeded to judge him openly for a while before he continued with his attempts to make the washing machine work.
“What?” Sungmin asked bewilderedly, one hand brandishing the ladle in what he thought was a dangerous manner. But in sad reality, he looked like a harassed housewife.
“What?” Kyuhyun parroted him, as if there were no judging business at all.
“Don’t look at me like that.” The ladle sliced thin air as Sungmin threatened Kyuhyun.
“You’ll have to look at me to know that I’m looking at you.”
“You looked at me first.”
“Chicken and egg.”
“Pot and kettle, you mean.”
“You might be a pot but I’m not as fat.”
Stabbing the stupid fat pieces of rice cakes, Sungmin decided that Ryeowook and him could jolly well finish the rice cake soup on their own. Kyuhyun would have to settle for air. But then Ryeowook ambled into the kitchen half an hour later and declined the rice cake soup. For some reason, he appeared really desolate so Sungmin didn’t persist. Ryeowook chose to make some burgers for himself instead and naturally, as meat buddies, Kyuhyun got to enjoy those as well. On the other hand, Sungmin had to chug down the entire pot of rice cake soup himself. He wanted to drive a stake through Kyuhyun; it felt just like old times. Sungmin squandered a minute on nostalgia. But oh, he had more than enough time for that. He just didn’t know it yet.
That evening, they were lazing in front of the TV (with Sungmin sitting cross-legged on the floor, far far away from Kyuhyun, who was slouching on the sofa) watching some show with dogs and a dog whisperer in it when Kyuhyun suddenly decided he needed more potato chips.
“Let’s make a trip down to the supermarket, Ryeowook,” he yawned loudly, stretching and kicking a cushion such that it hit Sungmin on the back.
Sungmin turned his head about 30 degrees anti-clockwise (because Kyuhyun was unworthy of a full head-on glare) and tried to side-eye Kyuhyun to death.
“Now?” Ryeowook asked, eyes still affixed to the television. The pug onscreen had a habit of biting rocks. How fascinating.
“Yeah.” Kyuhyun ignored Sungmin’s venomous stare. “I’ll drive there and you can drive us back,” he said.
Sungmin stiffened at the offending topic and turned back to the screen. Other than the occasional twitch, he showed no indication that he was listening in to the conversation.
“Why can’t you just drive us to and fro?” quipped Ryeowook, intrigued enough to tear his eyes off the TV now.
“Because driving is an expression of freedom and I would like to you to also have the chance of experiencing the joy of exploration.”
“We’re just going to the supermart, Kyuhyun.”
“Look beyond the physical, Ryeowook. Let’s connect with the wheel on a spiritual level.”
The bright sound of Ryeowook’s chuckle aggravated Sungmin to no end. What’s so funny about that statement? Ryeowook had no standards at all. He switched the channel; puppies were so noisy. Stupid puppies. Irritating puppies.
Ryeowook rested careful eyes on Sungmin. “Do you want to come along?”
Disgruntlement simmered and came to a boil in Sungmin. Had he been automatically excluded from their outings? Did he have to be invited to grocery shopping trips now? “No,” Sungmin said curtly. The two of them could take off to the edge of the Himalayans (and hopefully, over it) for all he cared. He would stay home and overfeed the goldfishes.
Taken back by Sungmin’s hostility, Ryeowook lifted a curious brow at Kyuhyun who merely grinned. “Sungmin can’t join us, Ryeowook, he can’t drive. Why should he sit in the backseat-“ Sungmin tutted in chagrin. They were planning to chuck him in the backseat? “-and enjoy the fruits of our labor? I say we bar him from the car from now on.”
This time, Sungmin twirled around and gasped in outrage. Kyuhyun disregarded him. He stood up and wandered into his room for a change of clothes, maddening smile and all.
Left behind with his grievances, Sungmin huffed again at Ryeowook. “I’m so coming,” he glowered at the innocent.
“O…..K….” Ryeowook said very slowly, trying not to feel like a pawn in this game of tug and war. Like always, he wondered where he stood between them and why a cautious step forward always sent him ten skips behind.
. . . . .
Firmly planting himself in the shotgun seat, Sungmin turned his head resolutely to the side and refused to acknowledge the driver. Kyuhyun almost burst out laughing but he settled for an ear-to-ear smile, giving Ryeowook a small shrug of his shoulders and got into the car. Quietly, Ryeowook slid into the backseat.
“What do you like best about driving?” Kyuhyun asked before launching into a spirited whistled rendition of Chaconne in F minor and igniting the engine. The question was of course, not meant for Sungmin. So he began to think about proses in hope of tuning out any conversation on wheels.
Until Kyuhyun twisted his head to beam at him, Ryeowook had been hesitant to answer. “Not much, it’s a survival skill,” he conceded carefully, not sure where his answer would lead them to.
Snapping his fingers, Kyuhyun exclaimed, “You’re right! It’s a survival skill. Everyone should know how to drive. What if someone - I’m referring to an arbitrary stranger, of course - ends up in the middle of North Korea and his option is to either drive his way out of the country or become a nuclear spy for KJI?” Ryeowook’s flighty gaze darted to Sungmin.
Sungmin paused in his ‘the-driver-doesn’t-exist’ game. “I’m sure there are more plausible analogies,” he gritted out. Unfortunately, Kyuhyun wasn’t done with his yet. He resumed his joyous whistling and that infuriated Sungmin so much that he reached out and stabbed the convertible top button with his index finger.
The cry of the cold autumn wind successfully subdued any attempts at conversation/whistling and Sungmin’s squinched annoyed eyes told Kyuhyun in no uncertain terms that he had enough. So Kyuhyun inwardly declared it half time. He yanked the hood of Sungmin’s black top over his head when they stopped at the next red light, laughing when he knocked the chick’s glasses over and sent him scrambling for it. A cryptic small smile continued to dangle from his lips for the rest of the ride.
Behind, Ryeowook closed his eyes to the two of them and let the wind sweep him away.
. . . . . .
There was a kid screaming at the ice cream section in the supermarket. Sungmin focused on his wails until the kid’s mum came and dragged him away. With nothing to distract him, Sungmin had to listen in to his flatmates debate over body wash.
“Musk?”
Ryeowook opened the lid of the bottle and took a sniff. He puffed his cheeks out in thought and picked another bottle. “Ocean mist?”
“Orange zest?” Sungmin tried to participate in the discussion. Ryeowook and Kyuhyun stared at him.
“That’s nice too,” Ryeowook said kindly, but Kyuhyun chortled. The bottle was jammed violently back into the shelves. Eventually, Ryeowook and Kyuhyun decided on ocean mist; Sungmin ultimately bought the orange scented body wash as a show of defiance. The chick looked so cute when he was trying to stare people into submission; Kyuhyun wanted to tickle him.
“We need to get shampoo too,” Ryeowook mumbled, wheeling the trolley and moving down the aisle marked ‘Toiletories’ to scan through the rows of bottles of shampoo. He picked out a bottle of menthol scented shampoo and put it in the cart. That was when he noticed someone had already picked up shampoo. “Rosehip?” he questioned his flatmates. Sungmin turned slowly to face Kyuhyun, accusation clear as Mauritius waters on his face. Kyuhyun coughed.
“Hmmp.” Sungmin made an unkind sound.
“That…” Kyuhyun trailed off hesitatingly. “Well.” The word was uttered with self-justification. “What’s wrong with rosehip shampoo?” Kyuhyun exclaimed, finally settling on indignance.
Ryeowook looked away. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said quietly to no one and put the bottle of menthol shampoo back on the shelf while Sungmin exhausted himself with all that sneering.
Randomly snatching up a bottle of something, Kyuhyun began studying it as a form of distraction.
“That’s feminine wash.” Sungmin looked traumatized.
Kyuhyun nearly dropped the bottle; he executed some juggling for a bit. ”I know,” Kyuhyun said with flustered composure. “I was curious. Is it a crime?”
“Of course it is.”
“I need my chips,” Kyuhyun stated blankly and escaped to get his regular supply of cardiac arrest.
. . . . .
Including the bag of Cheetos Kyuhyun had tucked under his chin, there were a total of eight bags of snacks he had brought back to Ryeowook and Sungmin who were discussing dinner options at the fresh food section.
“What’s that?” Sungmin frowned at Kyuhyun as he unloaded his loot into the trolley, all his misgivings forgotten at the sight of junk food.
“Ambrosia,” Kyuhyun answered, making sure to arrange the contents of the cart such that his chips wouldn’t get crushed.
“You’re eating too much crap,” chastised Sungmin. “Not good for health.”
“No, I bought peas too.” Kyuhyun held up a packet of snow pea crisps.
“No, these are peas.” Sungmin reached across the cabbages piled in front of them and took a bag of fresh peas. He placed it in the trolley and took out the pea snack. Kyuhyun stared at the peas. They were already yellowing. Something swelled in his heart but when he looked up he was smiling. “OK, I can deal with peas.”
“And you need carrots.” Sungmin added a bag of baby carrots too and removed the Pringles. “For your eyes. You’re always squinting into the microscope.”
“I don’t like carrots.” Despite the protest, Kyuhyun’s lips were tugged all the way up.
“And you need broccoli. Full of vitamin C and fiber.” In went the broccoli, out went the prawn crackers.
“Hate that shit.” The grin stretched itself wider.
“And since you haven’t been sleeping well-“ Sungmin was choosing bunches of spinach.
“How did you know that?”
A whole batch of spinach was eliminated before the winning bunch was selected. “You keep yawning. In the lab, at home, while you’re driving-“
“I didn’t know you care.”
“Of course I care.”
The grin dimmed out. Kyuhyun stepped up to Sungmin, deliberated for a snatch of time before he leaned down and rested his chin on Sungmin’s shoulder.
“What. Go away.” Sungmin twisted his shoulders nervously in a bid to throw Kyuhyun off.
“You know I haven’t been sleeping well, I’m tired,” whined Kyuhyun in a low voice.
“Oh.” Sungmin didn’t stop wiggling, he just continued doing so in a doubtful manner. Catching a glimpse of the awareness in Sungmin’s averted eyes, Kyuhyun moved his lips closer to Sungmin’s ears.
“I like tofu.” The murmur rustled Sungmin’s hair and made him squirmed a little. Sungmin’s shoulder was hard; the protrusion of his bones was prodding Kyuhyun in all the wrong places. So why did it feel so good to have him as a support?
“You like tofu?”
Kyuhyun nodded earnestly. Sungmin felt rather than saw the nod. He got two packets of tofu and was careful not to let the stretch of his arm upset Kyuhyun’s equilibrium.
“I like it when you boss over me.” The vibrations of the warm chuckle drenched Sungmin’s shoulders and extinguished the remnants of dissatisfaction in Sungmin.
Lowering his head, Sungmin relinquished the fight by saying, “I like it when we’re not arguing.”
There they go again. There was a sigh, slight pressure and Kyuhyun removed himself from Sungmin’s shoulders. Sungmin repeated his sigh; regretful that peace was still not within sight.
“Where’s Ryeowook?”
They found him stocking up chocolate at the candy section. “What do you think of caramel,” he smiled weakly at them.
Kyuhyun beamed and said yes to all his choices. Peering into the trolley, Ryeowook frowned at the yellowing and browning vegetables and said, “Why did you pick all these-“
Behind Sungmin, Kyuhyun was shaking his head at Ryeowook. But it was too late. Sungmin picked up the broccoli and glared hard at it. Then he looked perplexed. “I can’t tell,” he admitted, embarrassment high on his cheeks.
Kyuhyun took the vegetable from Sungmin. “It’s OK,” he said, placing it back into the cart but Sungmin started wheeling the trolley back where they came from. “No, l’ll change it.” His tone was firm.
The smile on Kyuhyun’s face can only be interpreted as regretful when he shook his head at Ryeowook, as if to say ‘nevermind’. But his assurances were useless, the guilt was bruising. Biting his lip, Ryeowook followed them back to the vegetable section. This time, Sungmin let him select all the vegetables.
. . . . .
That night, they had an almost vegetarian dinner back at the apartment. Almost, because Ryeowook insisted on stir-frying some beef, but in an unusual move, Kyuhyun developed a sudden love for carrots and the beef was left unfinished. After doing the dishes, Ryeowook watched the two of them watch TV for a while before he mumbled goodnight and headed into his room for some reading.
“What’s wrong with him?” Sungmin crooked his head in the direction of Ryeowook’s room.
“I don’t see anything wrong with him,” replied Kyuhyun. He scooted closer to Sungmin on the sofa. “Let’s talk about you instead.”
All of Sungmin’s defences stood erected. “It’s late, we should sleep.”
“OK, let’s.” Kyuhyun pulled himself down and across the sofa. His legs were resting behind Sungmin who was sitting at the other end of the couch.
“Get off, this is my bed!”
In response, Kyuhyun patted the narrow space between him and the back of the couch. “Welcome~”
Truthfully, Kyuhyun had expected some violence (probably a kick in the arse or a pillow in the face). So he was dumbfound when Sungmin threw himself into the tiny space and attempted to dislodge Kyuhyun.
“This is my bed,” he grunted, both hands and legs on Kyuhyun’s back, trying his utmost to push the stupid thing off the couch. “Get off, get off,” Sungmin huffed and puffed. He almost succeeded but Kyuhyun worked up enthusiasm for a fight. Unrelentingly, he squished Sungmin and fought to conquer the sofa. The chick was strong and Kyuhyun had to resort to despicable means. He started tickling Sungmin who emitted a lot of shrieks and giggles and was curling up like a shrimp. Kyuhyun was out of breath from laughing himself.
Sungmin was smart, however, he rolled to deter Kyuhyun’s efforts and somehow ended up on top of him. Except his arm. Sungmin screeched; he was fairly sure his limb - which was currently squashed under the weight of Kyuhyun’s torso - was going to require amputation after this.
Then Kyuhyun turned and Sungmin ended up in his arms. Chance! He put his hands against Kyuhyun’s shoulders and pushed. Kyuhyun didn’t even budge. Then arms wound around him in what might be a full body tickle assault. Or a hug. Sungmin’s rejection was immediate; no, no, no, he didn’t want this. Not again. He made to break away.
“It will be fine,” Kyuhyun murmured and suddenly they were no longer talking about bed space. Sungmin stiffened when he comprehended him. Tension could be felt surging under his skin, through the veins and into his system. There was little Kyuhyun’s stroking fingers could do to relieve him.
“You don’t know that.” Sungmin pushed Kyuhyun’s hand off his back and sat upright; his back too straight for him to be at any ease.
Submissive for a change, Kyuhyun catered to his wishes; he stayed where he was. “You are right.”
Sungmin didn’t look at him.
“But we can try.”
We. It infuriated Sungmin so much. This wasn’t Kyuhyun’s battle to fight. Talk is so cheap. How can it be used to purchase years of accumulated insecurity? He had built a fortress from scratch, mapped his way around a new world, laid down stones of defences and Kyuhyun had expected him to drop all his arms and stride out.
“Why don’t you try first before giving up?”
“How do you know I haven’t?” There was nothing Kyuhyun could say to that. Sungmin knew he struck a sore spot. You don’t - shouldn’t - try to meddle with another person’s life; especially not when you’ve only known him for 3 months. The secrets that he didn’t trade with Kyuhyun should remain unearthed. Some paths are meant to be walked alone.
“Go.” There was so much restraint in Sungmin’s voice that Kyuhyun had no choice but to do just that.
Sungmin moved only after he heard Kyuhyun’s door clicked shut. He pounded the cushion in a fit of exasperation. After he had expended his energy but dispelled none of the frustration, he plopped down on the couch and stared up at the bulb, still radiating light. The white was searing but its familiarity was soothing. His lids sealed shut and the world turned black. This was what he was well acquainted with.
He felt safe.
There was no need to venture out at all.
. . . . .
Kyuhyun had difficulty sleeping. He woke at 4:11 a.m. for no apparent reason and spent the next three hours tossing and turning in bed. Giving up, he laid on his stomach and traced fingers along the side of the wooden bedframe that was painted black. Then he gazed at the black study table with its black chair. Flipping onto his other side, he saw the black cabinet standing at the corner of the room. He sighed. There was to be no respite. The bed creaked lightly when he got up from it and shuffled out to the living, each footstep heavier than the previous one.
The shuffling of his feet didn’t wake Sungmin. He didn’t take off his glasses when he went to bed last night. In fact, he didn’t switch off the lights either. A mixture of sunshine and artificial light fell on them. Kyuhyun took off Sungmin’s glasses and set them on the coffee table. Then he propped an idle hand on his chin and studied his face.
Sure, Sungmin was cute. But he was nowhere near what Kyuhyun would thought of as good-looking. Besides, Ryeowook was cute too. Was it his eyes? Kyuhyun gently poked Sungmin’s eyelids, which were currently closed. His eyeballs swivelled beneath the lids but otherwise, showed no signs of being disturbed. Sniggering, Kyuhyun tickled the tip of Sungmin’s nose with a loose thread from the cushion. His arm was swatted away; Sungmin mumbled and scowled in his sleep. Kyuhyun froze, then he relaxed when Sungmin went still again. Nope, not the nose. Kyuhyun’s hand moved to the cheekbones, high and rounded. The skin was supple and warm against his own, but no, not his cheekbones either.
Kyuhyun’s eyes dropped to Sungmin’s lips. He smiled and outlined its shape with a finger; memorizing skin and contour, desire growing with every dip and curve. Maybe he should stop. His finger drew a path against the seal of Sungmin’s lips. Maybe he should stop now. Kyuhyun sighed again.
That little sound of discontent woke Sungmin up. That was also why he kicked Kyuhyun in the face.
“Ah!” Sungmin yelped and jumped up from the couch, clutching his quilt against him like a shield. It wasn’t usual to wake up and discover a face just three centimetres from yours, see.
Groaning on the floor, Kyuhyun lifted a hand up to nurse his nose. He was in too much pain to make any sound other than ‘ughhh’. Rolling himself over, he laid face-down and feigned dead.
Like all short sighted people who believe they could single-handedly put all opticians out of jobs, Sungmin narrowed his eyes and focused really hard, as if that would miraculously improve his eye sight. But of course, that didn’t work. He fumbled around blindly for his glasses. “What are you doing!’ he gasped when he finally made out that unmoving mess on the floor to be Kyuhyun. A few seconds later, he remembered how to be humane and hurried to his side. “Are you OK?” He turned Kyuhyun over. To his shock, Kyuhyun was smiling even as a trickle of blood trailed from his nostrils. He carefully cradled Kyuhyun’s head on his lap.
“We’re even now,” he grinned, watching Sungmin rubbed his blood off with the sleeve of his top, the stain showed up as a dark patch on the black of the PJs. Sungmin’s head blocked off the ceiling light and bathed Kyuhyun in his shadow.
“What?” Sungmin said without really paying attention, preoccupied with getting blood off Kyuhyun.
“I torture you mentally and you abuse me physically. Let’s call it quits.” Kyuhyun sniffed instinctively and choked on the blood. The stench of metal filled his mouth. “A-are you still mad?” he asked mid-cough. “Look, you got to use violence. In my opinion, you got the better deal.”
The concern in Sungmin’s eyes subsided. “Wait,” he said curtly, laying Kyuhyun’s head down before reaching for the first aid box in the cabinet. Some cotton balls were retrieved from the box and used to dab at the small pool of blood at the corner of Kyuhyun’s nose. “Stop looking at me,” Sungmin grumbled. His touches were deft but gentle. The cotton was tickling Kyuhyun, which was exactly why he was smiling with a nosebleed, of course.
“You know, it’s because I care too,” Kyuhyun ignored what Sungmin just said and echoed his words from yesterday instead. It was a little low but Kyuhyun was being impatient in patching up.
It was Sungmin’s turn to sigh. “I know,” he granted Kyuhyun, understanding enough to resist confrontation but not to yield.
“You look too happy for someone with a nosebleed,” commented Sungmin as he continued nursing Kyuhyun’s injury. He obviously had no idea he was biting his lower lip while he worked, no idea that there was a lock of hair leaning on his cheek that Kyuhyun wanted to reach out and brush away with fleeting touches like the summer zephyr; warm, lingering and provoking. This was simple captivation; Kyuhyun was a bottled firefly.
So he gave Kyuhyun’s nose one last gentle swipe before rolling him off his lap. “I’ll get some water to clean the blood,” he said, already on his way to the kitchen.
Plunking himself back down on the floor, Kyuhyun rubbed his nose gingerly and felt the blood already starting to crust. He squeezed his eyes shut against the blinding white light and grimaced.
It hurt.
. . . . . .
Saved for a light bruise, Kyuhyun appeared to be absolutely fine that Sunday. He kept moving his fingers over his nose to remind Sungmin though. Sungmin kept his eyes on his laptop.
“What are you doing?” Kyuhyun asked, sliding nearer to him on the couch.
“Working,” answered Sungmin, mostly out of guilt.
Kyuhyun couldn’t help but feel gleeful at not being ignored. The nosebleed was totally worth it. He was about to push his luck and launch into idle talk that would inevitably end up in the topic of driving when Ryeowook came up to them. “Want to watch a move?” asked Ryeowook. Kyuhyun watched Sungmin’s brows came together.
“Maybe we can do something else together,” he suggested instead. He was on Sungmin’s side; he himself didn’t know how to appreciate black and white movies either.
“It’s alright,” Ryeowook said, waving his hands, as if dismissing himself. “I can watch it myself.” He attempted a smile.
“No,” Sungmin mumbled. “You guys can go together. I have to finish this report.” His fingers flew over the keyboard.
Kyuhyun’s eyes moved from Ryeowook to Sungmin. Backing away, Ryeowook was about to say no - too scared and unprepared to hear Kyuhyun’s decision, although it was another matter altogether - when Kyuhyun said, “OK.” He figured Sungmin probably needed some space; he’ll give him that.
When Sungmin lifted his head up though, he looked as surprised as Ryeowook. Well, Ryeowook seemed surprised, on the other hand, Sungmin looked mildly scandalised. Kyuhyun wondered why, since he was the one who was unwilling to go. Chick was so hard to please, sometimes Kyuhyun wanted to deep-fry it.
“Fine,” said (snipped?) Sungmin, resuming his typing, “go!” His typing intensified until he was almost hammering away at the keyboard. Ryeowook stared at Kyuhyun who supplied him with a wide-eyed shrug.
“Join us,” Ryeowook extended the invitation again but Kyuhyun was examining his nails. Sungmin seethed.
“I’m afraid I’m beyond the frivolities of mere mortals.”
When they were about to leave, Kyuhyun sauntered up to Sungmin who proceeded to look the other way. He was ignoring him again. But Kyuhyun was hard to deter. He threw something onto the coffee table and watched Sungmin’s fixated gaze faltered, moving everywhere but the table top. Resisting a smile, he said, “Just something I thought could help you pass the time.”
Sungmin muttered something nasty Kyuhyun couldn’t catch, so he bade him farewell. “Who’s driving,” Kyuhyun called out to Ryeowook while he was walking to the door. He didn’t have to turn to savour the scorn Sungmin was wearing on his face.
When sneaky Sungmin was sure the two of them had really left, he quickly checked what was on the coffee table.
It was the driving manual.
His scowl was so fierce, he was almost sad that Kyuhyun wasn’t around to see it.
. . . . .
Sungmin was Googling. Again. He clicked on the ‘What’s Showing’ button. There was a romantic comedy but Kyuhyun and Ryeowook would never be interested in that. He frowned. Romantic comedies were nice for Christmas, together with a cup of marshmallows (maybe he’ll add hot chocolate if the mood struck). He scrolled down. Penguins. Ooooo. Kyuhyun would gladly eat penguins. He scrolled further down. The next movie was one about the mafia; sounded right up their alley, through the street and over rolling green hills. Sungmin slammed his laptop shut. Only to see the driving manual laying on the coffee table.
It glowered at him. How rude.
Just like its owner.
The driving manual was there when Sungmin was watching TV. It continued to stay there when he was eating lunch. He willed it to move away when he was clipping his nails. But no, book was stubborn. Finally, he escaped to his old bedroom. Everything reminded him of Kyuhyun (another source of irritation) and he had to scurry out. When he was overfeeding the goldfishes, he turned around and uh-huh, it still hadn’t grow any legs. He was miserable.
That book was so aggravating.
. . . . .
Bloodworms were raining all around them like red fireworks. Heechul and Hankyung stared at each other. Mustering all the courage in his fishy system, Heechul stammered, “I, I-“
“Meow,” interrupted Hankyung.
Hoshit. He is so cute.
Heechul’s confession melted into whimpers.
. . . . .
“What’s up with Sungmin and you?” Ryeowook asked after too much deliberation. The movie ended three hours ago, this question had been residing in Ryeowook since yesterday. The lobby of their apartment was devoid of accompany, which made it a great place for whispered conversation.
Kyuhyun pressed the lift button. They waited with different purposes. “Ryeowook, do you have anything you’re afraid of?” Kyuhyun asked instead. Folding his arms, he cocked his head to the side and waited for Ryeowook’s answer.
The tears were sudden and unexpected. “Of course,” said Ryeowook, betraying none of the surging panic in him. The doors of the lift opened and disrupted his next question. “Why?” he tried again when they entered. But Kyuhyun was adamant that he remained in deep thought, so Ryeowook hit the button that indicated their floor level and continued waiting. He lowered his head and willed the tears to retreat. It was so difficult.
“What do you do with your fear?”
Ryeowook widened his eyes and unknowingly let a tear escaped. No one noticed its descent. “Nothing.” His voice was calm and steady; he didn’t lie.
“Nothing?”
“Well…it’s a fear. I try not to deal with it.” It was the truth, but he was trying so hard now.
“Shouldn’t you try and overcome a fear?” Kyuhyun stroked his chin in thought.
Ryeowook swallowed his indecision. “Kyuhyu-“
“But well, running away is another option too…hmmm…”
The doors opened again to reveal the corridor. Kyuhyun stepped out only to stop and turn when he felt a tug. Ryeowook’s gaze was downcast, he had one hand on the hem of Kyuhyun’s shirt. “Sungmin, you guys,” he started. And stopped.
There was a hand on his head. Ryeowook lifted confused eyes. Ruffling Ryeowook’s hair, Kyuhyun said, “We are OK, Ryeowook. Don’t worry.” His tone was gentle; his smile reassuring.
He took all of these away when he turned and walked towards Sungmin.
Ryeowook helplessly watched him go.
. . . . . .
Sungmin was asleep when Kyuhyun reached home. Maybe he wasn’t asleep yet, but Kyuhyun couldn’t be sure since the chick had the blanket pulled all the way up and over his head, reduced to nothing but a lumpy lump on the couch.
"We're back."
The lump didn't stir.
Quirking his lips, Kyuhyun made his way to the kitchen for a drink. He was tired with all that bickering anyway.
Ryeowook had just finished his bath and was walking out of the kitchen when he said, “Is this yours, Kyuhyun?”
“No,” Kyuhyun said automatically, downing a glass of water with his back to Ryeowook. It must be his, he was so messy; experience had told him that denial was a much easier path to take.
“Then it must be Sungmin’s,” Ryeowook mused weakly.
Kyuhyun made a non-committal sound.
“I thought he didn’t like driving.”
Water spilled from Kyuhyun’s glass when he spun around.
The driving manual was lying open on the kitchen table.
Kyuhyun blinked at it in startled surprise. Once. Twice. Thrice in rapid succession.
Then he smiled.
tbc
p.s.: transferring all my sungmin lip fetishes onto fic kyu. wait a minute. fic kyu sounds like.../fill in the blank/
p.p.s.: shock you~~ magic~~ <(￣︶￣)~*
p.p.p.s.: 有時候我會後悔這文就這麼定下了 為啥不嚴肅一點 聰明一點 偏偏就是不三不四~ 有點流氓的文法是怎樣~ 就不知為啥 但是就是醬子了啦~~~湊合著看吧 客官們~~
beta → teexsaurus, who complimented me. heh.
a/n → yes sir, yes sir, 3 bags full
Chapter 13: 安全区 | Comfort Zone
I don’t want to.”
“Why not?” Kyuhyun asked knowingly. The question hung in the air and weighed them down. A breeze filtered through the kitchen but did nothing to dissipate the growing tension. Sungmin was insistent on not helping Kyuhyun. That was OK, that was within expectations.
Sungmin’s reluctance to broach the subject was found in the slump of his shoulders, the angle he was leaning away from Kyuhyun; a spooked butterfly on the verge spreading its fragile wings. Kyuhyun was denied the courtesy of an answer.
“I know I’m too nice and generous but you’re always welcomed to my car.”
“I’m giving you free driving lessons. I understand free things might be tough for most people to accept but I’ve always thought you liked free things.”
“What’s there to lose?”
Just pride. Maybe.
With irritation, Sungmin pushed back his chair and stalked away for some really vigorous teeth brushing.
Cherry Garcia was so gross, Kyuyun surmised. He opened the freezer and traded it for a pint of Dublin Mudslide. Chocolate. Much more effective as a mood lifter.
. . . . .
Saturday was spent with Sungmin avoiding whatever he could of Kyuhyun, which was kind of difficult since they were living in a tiny apartment.
When Sungmin strolled into the kitchen to cook rice cake soup for lunch in the afternoon, he saw Kyuhyun fiddling with the buttons of the washing machine (since Sungmin had most conveniently forgotten to collect his pile of clothes when he was doing laundry that day). He smiled gleefully to himself when he heard Kyuhyun muttered ‘Earth-destroying, water-wasting midget’ under his breath. But then he turned his back to the stove and he could feel Kyuhyun judging his hairstyle, judging his black cotton tee, judging the back of his fat stumpy calves. He whipped around to glare at Kyuhyun who then proceeded to judge him openly for a while before he continued with his attempts to make the washing machine work.
“What?” Sungmin asked bewilderedly, one hand brandishing the ladle in what he thought was a dangerous manner. But in sad reality, he looked like a harassed housewife.
“What?” Kyuhyun parroted him, as if there were no judging business at all.
“Don’t look at me like that.” The ladle sliced thin air as Sungmin threatened Kyuhyun.
“You’ll have to look at me to know that I’m looking at you.”
“You looked at me first.”
“Chicken and egg.”
“Pot and kettle, you mean.”
“You might be a pot but I’m not as fat.”
Stabbing the stupid fat pieces of rice cakes, Sungmin decided that Ryeowook and him could jolly well finish the rice cake soup on their own. Kyuhyun would have to settle for air. But then Ryeowook ambled into the kitchen half an hour later and declined the rice cake soup. For some reason, he appeared really desolate so Sungmin didn’t persist. Ryeowook chose to make some burgers for himself instead and naturally, as meat buddies, Kyuhyun got to enjoy those as well. On the other hand, Sungmin had to chug down the entire pot of rice cake soup himself. He wanted to drive a stake through Kyuhyun; it felt just like old times. Sungmin squandered a minute on nostalgia. But oh, he had more than enough time for that. He just didn’t know it yet.
That evening, they were lazing in front of the TV (with Sungmin sitting cross-legged on the floor, far far away from Kyuhyun, who was slouching on the sofa) watching some show with dogs and a dog whisperer in it when Kyuhyun suddenly decided he needed more potato chips.
“Let’s make a trip down to the supermarket, Ryeowook,” he yawned loudly, stretching and kicking a cushion such that it hit Sungmin on the back.
Sungmin turned his head about 30 degrees anti-clockwise (because Kyuhyun was unworthy of a full head-on glare) and tried to side-eye Kyuhyun to death.
“Now?” Ryeowook asked, eyes still affixed to the television. The pug onscreen had a habit of biting rocks. How fascinating.
“Yeah.” Kyuhyun ignored Sungmin’s venomous stare. “I’ll drive there and you can drive us back,” he said.
Sungmin stiffened at the offending topic and turned back to the screen. Other than the occasional twitch, he showed no indication that he was listening in to the conversation.
“Why can’t you just drive us to and fro?” quipped Ryeowook, intrigued enough to tear his eyes off the TV now.
“Because driving is an expression of freedom and I would like to you to also have the chance of experiencing the joy of exploration.”
“We’re just going to the supermart, Kyuhyun.”
“Look beyond the physical, Ryeowook. Let’s connect with the wheel on a spiritual level.”
The bright sound of Ryeowook’s chuckle aggravated Sungmin to no end. What’s so funny about that statement? Ryeowook had no standards at all. He switched the channel; puppies were so noisy. Stupid puppies. Irritating puppies.
Ryeowook rested careful eyes on Sungmin. “Do you want to come along?”
Disgruntlement simmered and came to a boil in Sungmin. Had he been automatically excluded from their outings? Did he have to be invited to grocery shopping trips now? “No,” Sungmin said curtly. The two of them could take off to the edge of the Himalayans (and hopefully, over it) for all he cared. He would stay home and overfeed the goldfishes.
Taken back by Sungmin’s hostility, Ryeowook lifted a curious brow at Kyuhyun who merely grinned. “Sungmin can’t join us, Ryeowook, he can’t drive. Why should he sit in the backseat-“ Sungmin tutted in chagrin. They were planning to chuck him in the backseat? “-and enjoy the fruits of our labor? I say we bar him from the car from now on.”
This time, Sungmin twirled around and gasped in outrage. Kyuhyun disregarded him. He stood up and wandered into his room for a change of clothes, maddening smile and all.
Left behind with his grievances, Sungmin huffed again at Ryeowook. “I’m so coming,” he glowered at the innocent.
“O…..K….” Ryeowook said very slowly, trying not to feel like a pawn in this game of tug and war. Like always, he wondered where he stood between them and why a cautious step forward always sent him ten skips behind.
. . . . .
Firmly planting himself in the shotgun seat, Sungmin turned his head resolutely to the side and refused to acknowledge the driver. Kyuhyun almost burst out laughing but he settled for an ear-to-ear smile, giving Ryeowook a small shrug of his shoulders and got into the car. Quietly, Ryeowook slid into the backseat.
“What do you like best about driving?” Kyuhyun asked before launching into a spirited whistled rendition of Chaconne in F minor and igniting the engine. The question was of course, not meant for Sungmin. So he began to think about proses in hope of tuning out any conversation on wheels.
Until Kyuhyun twisted his head to beam at him, Ryeowook had been hesitant to answer. “Not much, it’s a survival skill,” he conceded carefully, not sure where his answer would lead them to.
Snapping his fingers, Kyuhyun exclaimed, “You’re right! It’s a survival skill. Everyone should know how to drive. What if someone - I’m referring to an arbitrary stranger, of course - ends up in the middle of North Korea and his option is to either drive his way out of the country or become a nuclear spy for KJI?” Ryeowook’s flighty gaze darted to Sungmin.
Sungmin paused in his ‘the-driver-doesn’t-exist’ game. “I’m sure there are more plausible analogies,” he gritted out. Unfortunately, Kyuhyun wasn’t done with his yet. He resumed his joyous whistling and that infuriated Sungmin so much that he reached out and stabbed the convertible top button with his index finger.
The cry of the cold autumn wind successfully subdued any attempts at conversation/whistling and Sungmin’s squinched annoyed eyes told Kyuhyun in no uncertain terms that he had enough. So Kyuhyun inwardly declared it half time. He yanked the hood of Sungmin’s black top over his head when they stopped at the next red light, laughing when he knocked the chick’s glasses over and sent him scrambling for it. A cryptic small smile continued to dangle from his lips for the rest of the ride.
Behind, Ryeowook closed his eyes to the two of them and let the wind sweep him away.
. . . . . .
There was a kid screaming at the ice cream section in the supermarket. Sungmin focused on his wails until the kid’s mum came and dragged him away. With nothing to distract him, Sungmin had to listen in to his flatmates debate over body wash.
“Musk?”
Ryeowook opened the lid of the bottle and took a sniff. He puffed his cheeks out in thought and picked another bottle. “Ocean mist?”
“Orange zest?” Sungmin tried to participate in the discussion. Ryeowook and Kyuhyun stared at him.
“That’s nice too,” Ryeowook said kindly, but Kyuhyun chortled. The bottle was jammed violently back into the shelves. Eventually, Ryeowook and Kyuhyun decided on ocean mist; Sungmin ultimately bought the orange scented body wash as a show of defiance. The chick looked so cute when he was trying to stare people into submission; Kyuhyun wanted to tickle him.
“We need to get shampoo too,” Ryeowook mumbled, wheeling the trolley and moving down the aisle marked ‘Toiletories’ to scan through the rows of bottles of shampoo. He picked out a bottle of menthol scented shampoo and put it in the cart. That was when he noticed someone had already picked up shampoo. “Rosehip?” he questioned his flatmates. Sungmin turned slowly to face Kyuhyun, accusation clear as Mauritius waters on his face. Kyuhyun coughed.
“Hmmp.” Sungmin made an unkind sound.
“That…” Kyuhyun trailed off hesitatingly. “Well.” The word was uttered with self-justification. “What’s wrong with rosehip shampoo?” Kyuhyun exclaimed, finally settling on indignance.
Ryeowook looked away. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said quietly to no one and put the bottle of menthol shampoo back on the shelf while Sungmin exhausted himself with all that sneering.
Randomly snatching up a bottle of something, Kyuhyun began studying it as a form of distraction.
“That’s feminine wash.” Sungmin looked traumatized.
Kyuhyun nearly dropped the bottle; he executed some juggling for a bit. ”I know,” Kyuhyun said with flustered composure. “I was curious. Is it a crime?”
“Of course it is.”
“I need my chips,” Kyuhyun stated blankly and escaped to get his regular supply of cardiac arrest.
. . . . .
Including the bag of Cheetos Kyuhyun had tucked under his chin, there were a total of eight bags of snacks he had brought back to Ryeowook and Sungmin who were discussing dinner options at the fresh food section.
“What’s that?” Sungmin frowned at Kyuhyun as he unloaded his loot into the trolley, all his misgivings forgotten at the sight of junk food.
“Ambrosia,” Kyuhyun answered, making sure to arrange the contents of the cart such that his chips wouldn’t get crushed.
“You’re eating too much crap,” chastised Sungmin. “Not good for health.”
“No, I bought peas too.” Kyuhyun held up a packet of snow pea crisps.
“No, these are peas.” Sungmin reached across the cabbages piled in front of them and took a bag of fresh peas. He placed it in the trolley and took out the pea snack. Kyuhyun stared at the peas. They were already yellowing. Something swelled in his heart but when he looked up he was smiling. “OK, I can deal with peas.”
“And you need carrots.” Sungmin added a bag of baby carrots too and removed the Pringles. “For your eyes. You’re always squinting into the microscope.”
“I don’t like carrots.” Despite the protest, Kyuhyun’s lips were tugged all the way up.
“And you need broccoli. Full of vitamin C and fiber.” In went the broccoli, out went the prawn crackers.
“Hate that shit.” The grin stretched itself wider.
“And since you haven’t been sleeping well-“ Sungmin was choosing bunches of spinach.
“How did you know that?”
A whole batch of spinach was eliminated before the winning bunch was selected. “You keep yawning. In the lab, at home, while you’re driving-“
“I didn’t know you care.”
“Of course I care.”
The grin dimmed out. Kyuhyun stepped up to Sungmin, deliberated for a snatch of time before he leaned down and rested his chin on Sungmin’s shoulder.
“What. Go away.” Sungmin twisted his shoulders nervously in a bid to throw Kyuhyun off.
“You know I haven’t been sleeping well, I’m tired,” whined Kyuhyun in a low voice.
“Oh.” Sungmin didn’t stop wiggling, he just continued doing so in a doubtful manner. Catching a glimpse of the awareness in Sungmin’s averted eyes, Kyuhyun moved his lips closer to Sungmin’s ears.
“I like tofu.” The murmur rustled Sungmin’s hair and made him squirmed a little. Sungmin’s shoulder was hard; the protrusion of his bones was prodding Kyuhyun in all the wrong places. So why did it feel so good to have him as a support?
“You like tofu?”
Kyuhyun nodded earnestly. Sungmin felt rather than saw the nod. He got two packets of tofu and was careful not to let the stretch of his arm upset Kyuhyun’s equilibrium.
“I like it when you boss over me.” The vibrations of the warm chuckle drenched Sungmin’s shoulders and extinguished the remnants of dissatisfaction in Sungmin.
Lowering his head, Sungmin relinquished the fight by saying, “I like it when we’re not arguing.”
There they go again. There was a sigh, slight pressure and Kyuhyun removed himself from Sungmin’s shoulders. Sungmin repeated his sigh; regretful that peace was still not within sight.
“Where’s Ryeowook?”
They found him stocking up chocolate at the candy section. “What do you think of caramel,” he smiled weakly at them.
Kyuhyun beamed and said yes to all his choices. Peering into the trolley, Ryeowook frowned at the yellowing and browning vegetables and said, “Why did you pick all these-“
Behind Sungmin, Kyuhyun was shaking his head at Ryeowook. But it was too late. Sungmin picked up the broccoli and glared hard at it. Then he looked perplexed. “I can’t tell,” he admitted, embarrassment high on his cheeks.
Kyuhyun took the vegetable from Sungmin. “It’s OK,” he said, placing it back into the cart but Sungmin started wheeling the trolley back where they came from. “No, l’ll change it.” His tone was firm.
The smile on Kyuhyun’s face can only be interpreted as regretful when he shook his head at Ryeowook, as if to say ‘nevermind’. But his assurances were useless, the guilt was bruising. Biting his lip, Ryeowook followed them back to the vegetable section. This time, Sungmin let him select all the vegetables.
. . . . .
That night, they had an almost vegetarian dinner back at the apartment. Almost, because Ryeowook insisted on stir-frying some beef, but in an unusual move, Kyuhyun developed a sudden love for carrots and the beef was left unfinished. After doing the dishes, Ryeowook watched the two of them watch TV for a while before he mumbled goodnight and headed into his room for some reading.
“What’s wrong with him?” Sungmin crooked his head in the direction of Ryeowook’s room.
“I don’t see anything wrong with him,” replied Kyuhyun. He scooted closer to Sungmin on the sofa. “Let’s talk about you instead.”
All of Sungmin’s defences stood erected. “It’s late, we should sleep.”
“OK, let’s.” Kyuhyun pulled himself down and across the sofa. His legs were resting behind Sungmin who was sitting at the other end of the couch.
“Get off, this is my bed!”
In response, Kyuhyun patted the narrow space between him and the back of the couch. “Welcome~”
Truthfully, Kyuhyun had expected some violence (probably a kick in the arse or a pillow in the face). So he was dumbfound when Sungmin threw himself into the tiny space and attempted to dislodge Kyuhyun.
“This is my bed,” he grunted, both hands and legs on Kyuhyun’s back, trying his utmost to push the stupid thing off the couch. “Get off, get off,” Sungmin huffed and puffed. He almost succeeded but Kyuhyun worked up enthusiasm for a fight. Unrelentingly, he squished Sungmin and fought to conquer the sofa. The chick was strong and Kyuhyun had to resort to despicable means. He started tickling Sungmin who emitted a lot of shrieks and giggles and was curling up like a shrimp. Kyuhyun was out of breath from laughing himself.
Sungmin was smart, however, he rolled to deter Kyuhyun’s efforts and somehow ended up on top of him. Except his arm. Sungmin screeched; he was fairly sure his limb - which was currently squashed under the weight of Kyuhyun’s torso - was going to require amputation after this.
Then Kyuhyun turned and Sungmin ended up in his arms. Chance! He put his hands against Kyuhyun’s shoulders and pushed. Kyuhyun didn’t even budge. Then arms wound around him in what might be a full body tickle assault. Or a hug. Sungmin’s rejection was immediate; no, no, no, he didn’t want this. Not again. He made to break away.
“It will be fine,” Kyuhyun murmured and suddenly they were no longer talking about bed space. Sungmin stiffened when he comprehended him. Tension could be felt surging under his skin, through the veins and into his system. There was little Kyuhyun’s stroking fingers could do to relieve him.
“You don’t know that.” Sungmin pushed Kyuhyun’s hand off his back and sat upright; his back too straight for him to be at any ease.
Submissive for a change, Kyuhyun catered to his wishes; he stayed where he was. “You are right.”
Sungmin didn’t look at him.
“But we can try.”
We. It infuriated Sungmin so much. This wasn’t Kyuhyun’s battle to fight. Talk is so cheap. How can it be used to purchase years of accumulated insecurity? He had built a fortress from scratch, mapped his way around a new world, laid down stones of defences and Kyuhyun had expected him to drop all his arms and stride out.
“Why don’t you try first before giving up?”
“How do you know I haven’t?” There was nothing Kyuhyun could say to that. Sungmin knew he struck a sore spot. You don’t - shouldn’t - try to meddle with another person’s life; especially not when you’ve only known him for 3 months. The secrets that he didn’t trade with Kyuhyun should remain unearthed. Some paths are meant to be walked alone.
“Go.” There was so much restraint in Sungmin’s voice that Kyuhyun had no choice but to do just that.
Sungmin moved only after he heard Kyuhyun’s door clicked shut. He pounded the cushion in a fit of exasperation. After he had expended his energy but dispelled none of the frustration, he plopped down on the couch and stared up at the bulb, still radiating light. The white was searing but its familiarity was soothing. His lids sealed shut and the world turned black. This was what he was well acquainted with.
He felt safe.
There was no need to venture out at all.
. . . . .
Kyuhyun had difficulty sleeping. He woke at 4:11 a.m. for no apparent reason and spent the next three hours tossing and turning in bed. Giving up, he laid on his stomach and traced fingers along the side of the wooden bedframe that was painted black. Then he gazed at the black study table with its black chair. Flipping onto his other side, he saw the black cabinet standing at the corner of the room. He sighed. There was to be no respite. The bed creaked lightly when he got up from it and shuffled out to the living, each footstep heavier than the previous one.
The shuffling of his feet didn’t wake Sungmin. He didn’t take off his glasses when he went to bed last night. In fact, he didn’t switch off the lights either. A mixture of sunshine and artificial light fell on them. Kyuhyun took off Sungmin’s glasses and set them on the coffee table. Then he propped an idle hand on his chin and studied his face.
Sure, Sungmin was cute. But he was nowhere near what Kyuhyun would thought of as good-looking. Besides, Ryeowook was cute too. Was it his eyes? Kyuhyun gently poked Sungmin’s eyelids, which were currently closed. His eyeballs swivelled beneath the lids but otherwise, showed no signs of being disturbed. Sniggering, Kyuhyun tickled the tip of Sungmin’s nose with a loose thread from the cushion. His arm was swatted away; Sungmin mumbled and scowled in his sleep. Kyuhyun froze, then he relaxed when Sungmin went still again. Nope, not the nose. Kyuhyun’s hand moved to the cheekbones, high and rounded. The skin was supple and warm against his own, but no, not his cheekbones either.
Kyuhyun’s eyes dropped to Sungmin’s lips. He smiled and outlined its shape with a finger; memorizing skin and contour, desire growing with every dip and curve. Maybe he should stop. His finger drew a path against the seal of Sungmin’s lips. Maybe he should stop now. Kyuhyun sighed again.
That little sound of discontent woke Sungmin up. That was also why he kicked Kyuhyun in the face.
“Ah!” Sungmin yelped and jumped up from the couch, clutching his quilt against him like a shield. It wasn’t usual to wake up and discover a face just three centimetres from yours, see.
Groaning on the floor, Kyuhyun lifted a hand up to nurse his nose. He was in too much pain to make any sound other than ‘ughhh’. Rolling himself over, he laid face-down and feigned dead.
Like all short sighted people who believe they could single-handedly put all opticians out of jobs, Sungmin narrowed his eyes and focused really hard, as if that would miraculously improve his eye sight. But of course, that didn’t work. He fumbled around blindly for his glasses. “What are you doing!’ he gasped when he finally made out that unmoving mess on the floor to be Kyuhyun. A few seconds later, he remembered how to be humane and hurried to his side. “Are you OK?” He turned Kyuhyun over. To his shock, Kyuhyun was smiling even as a trickle of blood trailed from his nostrils. He carefully cradled Kyuhyun’s head on his lap.
“We’re even now,” he grinned, watching Sungmin rubbed his blood off with the sleeve of his top, the stain showed up as a dark patch on the black of the PJs. Sungmin’s head blocked off the ceiling light and bathed Kyuhyun in his shadow.
“What?” Sungmin said without really paying attention, preoccupied with getting blood off Kyuhyun.
“I torture you mentally and you abuse me physically. Let’s call it quits.” Kyuhyun sniffed instinctively and choked on the blood. The stench of metal filled his mouth. “A-are you still mad?” he asked mid-cough. “Look, you got to use violence. In my opinion, you got the better deal.”
The concern in Sungmin’s eyes subsided. “Wait,” he said curtly, laying Kyuhyun’s head down before reaching for the first aid box in the cabinet. Some cotton balls were retrieved from the box and used to dab at the small pool of blood at the corner of Kyuhyun’s nose. “Stop looking at me,” Sungmin grumbled. His touches were deft but gentle. The cotton was tickling Kyuhyun, which was exactly why he was smiling with a nosebleed, of course.
“You know, it’s because I care too,” Kyuhyun ignored what Sungmin just said and echoed his words from yesterday instead. It was a little low but Kyuhyun was being impatient in patching up.
It was Sungmin’s turn to sigh. “I know,” he granted Kyuhyun, understanding enough to resist confrontation but not to yield.
“You look too happy for someone with a nosebleed,” commented Sungmin as he continued nursing Kyuhyun’s injury. He obviously had no idea he was biting his lower lip while he worked, no idea that there was a lock of hair leaning on his cheek that Kyuhyun wanted to reach out and brush away with fleeting touches like the summer zephyr; warm, lingering and provoking. This was simple captivation; Kyuhyun was a bottled firefly.
So he gave Kyuhyun’s nose one last gentle swipe before rolling him off his lap. “I’ll get some water to clean the blood,” he said, already on his way to the kitchen.
Plunking himself back down on the floor, Kyuhyun rubbed his nose gingerly and felt the blood already starting to crust. He squeezed his eyes shut against the blinding white light and grimaced.
It hurt.
. . . . . .
Saved for a light bruise, Kyuhyun appeared to be absolutely fine that Sunday. He kept moving his fingers over his nose to remind Sungmin though. Sungmin kept his eyes on his laptop.
“What are you doing?” Kyuhyun asked, sliding nearer to him on the couch.
“Working,” answered Sungmin, mostly out of guilt.
Kyuhyun couldn’t help but feel gleeful at not being ignored. The nosebleed was totally worth it. He was about to push his luck and launch into idle talk that would inevitably end up in the topic of driving when Ryeowook came up to them. “Want to watch a move?” asked Ryeowook. Kyuhyun watched Sungmin’s brows came together.
“Maybe we can do something else together,” he suggested instead. He was on Sungmin’s side; he himself didn’t know how to appreciate black and white movies either.
“It’s alright,” Ryeowook said, waving his hands, as if dismissing himself. “I can watch it myself.” He attempted a smile.
“No,” Sungmin mumbled. “You guys can go together. I have to finish this report.” His fingers flew over the keyboard.
Kyuhyun’s eyes moved from Ryeowook to Sungmin. Backing away, Ryeowook was about to say no - too scared and unprepared to hear Kyuhyun’s decision, although it was another matter altogether - when Kyuhyun said, “OK.” He figured Sungmin probably needed some space; he’ll give him that.
When Sungmin lifted his head up though, he looked as surprised as Ryeowook. Well, Ryeowook seemed surprised, on the other hand, Sungmin looked mildly scandalised. Kyuhyun wondered why, since he was the one who was unwilling to go. Chick was so hard to please, sometimes Kyuhyun wanted to deep-fry it.
“Fine,” said (snipped?) Sungmin, resuming his typing, “go!” His typing intensified until he was almost hammering away at the keyboard. Ryeowook stared at Kyuhyun who supplied him with a wide-eyed shrug.
“Join us,” Ryeowook extended the invitation again but Kyuhyun was examining his nails. Sungmin seethed.
“I’m afraid I’m beyond the frivolities of mere mortals.”
When they were about to leave, Kyuhyun sauntered up to Sungmin who proceeded to look the other way. He was ignoring him again. But Kyuhyun was hard to deter. He threw something onto the coffee table and watched Sungmin’s fixated gaze faltered, moving everywhere but the table top. Resisting a smile, he said, “Just something I thought could help you pass the time.”
Sungmin muttered something nasty Kyuhyun couldn’t catch, so he bade him farewell. “Who’s driving,” Kyuhyun called out to Ryeowook while he was walking to the door. He didn’t have to turn to savour the scorn Sungmin was wearing on his face.
When sneaky Sungmin was sure the two of them had really left, he quickly checked what was on the coffee table.
It was the driving manual.
His scowl was so fierce, he was almost sad that Kyuhyun wasn’t around to see it.
. . . . .
Sungmin was Googling. Again. He clicked on the ‘What’s Showing’ button. There was a romantic comedy but Kyuhyun and Ryeowook would never be interested in that. He frowned. Romantic comedies were nice for Christmas, together with a cup of marshmallows (maybe he’ll add hot chocolate if the mood struck). He scrolled down. Penguins. Ooooo. Kyuhyun would gladly eat penguins. He scrolled further down. The next movie was one about the mafia; sounded right up their alley, through the street and over rolling green hills. Sungmin slammed his laptop shut. Only to see the driving manual laying on the coffee table.
It glowered at him. How rude.
Just like its owner.
The driving manual was there when Sungmin was watching TV. It continued to stay there when he was eating lunch. He willed it to move away when he was clipping his nails. But no, book was stubborn. Finally, he escaped to his old bedroom. Everything reminded him of Kyuhyun (another source of irritation) and he had to scurry out. When he was overfeeding the goldfishes, he turned around and uh-huh, it still hadn’t grow any legs. He was miserable.
That book was so aggravating.
. . . . .
Bloodworms were raining all around them like red fireworks. Heechul and Hankyung stared at each other. Mustering all the courage in his fishy system, Heechul stammered, “I, I-“
“Meow,” interrupted Hankyung.
Hoshit. He is so cute.
Heechul’s confession melted into whimpers.
. . . . .
“What’s up with Sungmin and you?” Ryeowook asked after too much deliberation. The movie ended three hours ago, this question had been residing in Ryeowook since yesterday. The lobby of their apartment was devoid of accompany, which made it a great place for whispered conversation.
Kyuhyun pressed the lift button. They waited with different purposes. “Ryeowook, do you have anything you’re afraid of?” Kyuhyun asked instead. Folding his arms, he cocked his head to the side and waited for Ryeowook’s answer.
The tears were sudden and unexpected. “Of course,” said Ryeowook, betraying none of the surging panic in him. The doors of the lift opened and disrupted his next question. “Why?” he tried again when they entered. But Kyuhyun was adamant that he remained in deep thought, so Ryeowook hit the button that indicated their floor level and continued waiting. He lowered his head and willed the tears to retreat. It was so difficult.
“What do you do with your fear?”
Ryeowook widened his eyes and unknowingly let a tear escaped. No one noticed its descent. “Nothing.” His voice was calm and steady; he didn’t lie.
“Nothing?”
“Well…it’s a fear. I try not to deal with it.” It was the truth, but he was trying so hard now.
“Shouldn’t you try and overcome a fear?” Kyuhyun stroked his chin in thought.
Ryeowook swallowed his indecision. “Kyuhyu-“
“But well, running away is another option too…hmmm…”
The doors opened again to reveal the corridor. Kyuhyun stepped out only to stop and turn when he felt a tug. Ryeowook’s gaze was downcast, he had one hand on the hem of Kyuhyun’s shirt. “Sungmin, you guys,” he started. And stopped.
There was a hand on his head. Ryeowook lifted confused eyes. Ruffling Ryeowook’s hair, Kyuhyun said, “We are OK, Ryeowook. Don’t worry.” His tone was gentle; his smile reassuring.
He took all of these away when he turned and walked towards Sungmin.
Ryeowook helplessly watched him go.
. . . . . .
Sungmin was asleep when Kyuhyun reached home. Maybe he wasn’t asleep yet, but Kyuhyun couldn’t be sure since the chick had the blanket pulled all the way up and over his head, reduced to nothing but a lumpy lump on the couch.
"We're back."
The lump didn't stir.
Quirking his lips, Kyuhyun made his way to the kitchen for a drink. He was tired with all that bickering anyway.
Ryeowook had just finished his bath and was walking out of the kitchen when he said, “Is this yours, Kyuhyun?”
“No,” Kyuhyun said automatically, downing a glass of water with his back to Ryeowook. It must be his, he was so messy; experience had told him that denial was a much easier path to take.
“Then it must be Sungmin’s,” Ryeowook mused weakly.
Kyuhyun made a non-committal sound.
“I thought he didn’t like driving.”
Water spilled from Kyuhyun’s glass when he spun around.
The driving manual was lying open on the kitchen table.
Kyuhyun blinked at it in startled surprise. Once. Twice. Thrice in rapid succession.
Then he smiled.
tbc
p.s.: transferring all my sungmin lip fetishes onto fic kyu. wait a minute. fic kyu sounds like.../fill in the blank/
p.p.s.: shock you~~ magic~~ <(￣︶￣)~*
p.p.p.s.: 有時候我會後悔這文就這麼定下了 為啥不嚴肅一點 聰明一點 偏偏就是不三不四~ 有點流氓的文法是怎樣~ 就不知為啥 但是就是醬子了啦~~~湊合著看吧 客官們~~