±0.001% (rounded off to three decimal places) [16/whenexactlyisthisending] - 2/2
kyumin | pg13 | ~4,300w | sungmin is a greeting card writer. he's good only at sympathy cards and rude only to dr. cho
beta → teexsaurus, sup baby
a/n → i'm a part-time plant killer
Chapter 16: 小宇宙 | Little Universe -[2/2]
“Just watch,” said Sungmin when Kyuhyun had finally gotten over his fake scald and crept over to lord over the cooking process. Sungmin toppled the pan over a plate and the cold oil-coated greens fell into it. Kyuhyun laughed dryly until he realised Sungmin was looking at him with a ‘You think it’s funny? You think it’s funny if I slam this pan into your face too?’ expression. So he ceased chortling.
The pan was oiled again. After setting it on the stove, Sungmin set about chopping garlic and onions. He smashed the cloves of garlic with the back of the chopper, removed the skin and diced it up swiftly. The onion stood by the side. Sungmin’s eyes slid warily over it. “Chop the onions,” he instructed Kyuhyun.
“Huh?” Kyuhyun remarked remarkably. I thought you told me to just watch.”
“Humans are fickle animals, Dr. Cho. Quick, before the pan gets overheated,” urged Sungmin.
“OK, what do I do?” asked Kyuhyun.
“First, you peel the skin off.” Kyuhyun undressed the onion. He found it to be a pleasurable experience.
“Next, you chop it up into pieces.” The chopper was handed to Kyuhyun. “Stay safe,” Sungmin said, as if Kyuhyun was about to embark on a spy mission. “And do the chopping over there.” he pointed to the kitchen table.
Kyuhyun looked in the direction Sungmin was pointing. “Why?”
Sungmin picked the first available excuse in his mind. “Because I don’t like you.”
“I’m hurt,” said Kyuhyun, sticking his lower lip out.
“Good.” There was a nod of satisfaction.
Three minutes later, a sobbing Kyuhyun handed the bowl of diced onions to Sungmin and he finally understood why he had been sent into temporary exile. “It will get better,” consoled Sungmin who handed him a towel. Kyuhyun sobbed harder.
The chopped onion and garlic were thrown into the pan where they sizzled and spat oil in all directions. “Argh!” yipped Kyuhyun who was scalded for real this time. He was crying and jumping and his hands were flying all over to evade sputtered oil. This was so resplendently pathetic that Sungmin laughed.
“Now you know what to do for your scalds,” he chuckled, stirring the pan’s contents with a spatula. Fragrant smells billowed from the pan and flooded the kitchen. “Smells great,” Kyuhyun quipped encouragingly from the sink. He was putting his neck under running water, collar all drenched already.
Sungmin grabbed a handful of chopped tomatoes, held it over the pan, squeezed their juices out and dumped the pulp in the pan. Grab, squeeze, dump, repeat. Meanwhile, Kyuhyun was being useful by gingerly applying ointment to his wet neck.
“No, you idiot! Dry your neck first.” The tomatoes needed to be simmered for a few minutes. So Sungmin had some free time to viciously rub Kyuhun’s neck dry with a napkin and smeared ointment on it. “Hey! Stop! Owwwww!” When Kyuhyun struggled, Sungmin locked him into a stranglehold. “Let’s see how you like this,” he gritted out while trying to get cream on to Kyuhyun’s neck. Unbeknownst to him, Sungmin looked like he wanted to end Kyuhyun instead of treating him.
“Where did you learn that from!” Kyuhyun panted when Sungmin released him. His neck felt extremely oily right now.
Breathing harder than Kyuhyun, Sungmin answered mid-exhale. “Google.” He took off his glasses and wiped the oil off them with the hem of Kyuhyun’s shirt.
“You Google the weirdest shit.”
“I know a lot about being a midwife too.” The glasses resumed their place on Sungmin’s nose. They gave him an air of midwife authority.
Kyuhyun was definitely intrigued but decided not to ask. He still needed his sanity to last him for this lifetime.
After playing doctor, Sungmin added the bell peppers and stirred his heart out. “This is the boring bit,” commented Kyuhyun.
“No, you get to taste a lot of stuff. Try this.” The spatula was lifted to Kyuhyun’s lips. He crossed his eyes looking at it. There was a piece of yellow bell pepper on it, accompanied by some tomato sauce. When he didn’t open his mouth, Sungmin poked his lips with the corner of the spatula. “Open up.” Ever the obedient child, Kyuhyun slackened his jaw. “Ahhh-“ The spatula was shoved into his mouth, Kyuhyun bit on it and refused to let go until Sungmin slapped his shoulder.
“Chew, swallow, don’t die,” said Sungmin. “How is it?”
“Excellent!” Kyuhyun declared, although truthfully, while the sauce was fragrant, he couldn’t really taste anything but the stinging sourness of the tomatoes.
“I haven’t even seasoned it yet,” frowned Sungmin. Kyuhyun rolled his eyes up and decided to hibernate at the kitchen table. “Wake me up when winter’s over.” A small piece of pepper was thrown at Kyuhyun. It hit him on the head and bounced off. The hibernating bear didn’t budge.
“Some help,” muttered Sungmin. The peppers were done. Sungmin poured the concoction into a skillet and arranged the slices of zucchini, eggplant and whatever remained of the tomatoes in swirls, on top of the sauce. Then he mixed some thyme, garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper together and poured it over the vegetables. After covering the skillet with aluminum foil, he placed it into the oven, which had already been pre-heated, and since they wouldn’t be able to see each other until two hours later, he went to disturb the bear.
“Get up,” he kicked Kyuhyun in the shin. “Go bathe before dinner.”
“I didn’t even sweat today.”
“It’s not for you,” said Sungmin, foot digging into the back of Kyuhyun’s calf. “It’s for me. I feel better around clean sterile people.”
“I’m not sterile!” hollered Kyuhyun.
Sungmin delivered an expert chop on Kyuhyun’s back and received a grimace from him. “There are many meanings to a word. This conversation is clearly sterile.”
. . . . .
“The rat, rat-tee-“ attempted Kyuhyun but he soon gave up. “Nice rat,” he complimented Sungmin after dinner.
“Thanks. I mean I already knew that, but verification is much appreciated.” Sungmin had the remote control and he was surfing on the high tides of Tuesday television. It was stormy out here. Tuesdays have the worst shows. He would have to write an email to ask the expert on that later. “There’s nothing on TV,” complained Sungmin.
The clock read 8pm. It was still too early for bed. Kyuhyun ruffled the pages of his brain. “Hey,” he called out as he closed up the distance between them on the couch. “Want to go star-gazing?”
He was leaning over to peer at Sungmin in the face, sudden excitement shining on his face. But Sungmin leaned away. “No. Where did you even get that?”
“We can lie on the beach and look at the stars. Come on! It will be fun,” enthused Kyuhyun.
“I don’t want to go star-gazing on a Tuesday night, Dr. Cho. Firstly, the beach is an hour’s drive away. Secondly, it’s autumn. Freezing our arses out does not make for nice experiences. It’s a bad thing. Bad!” Sungmin figured that babies like Kyuhyun needed baby talk. “Bad!” he repeated again, because he liked the gesture he was making when saying the word (which was really, 1. Splay your hands 2. Flail hard). “Thirdly, we’re exhausted, we didn’t get any sleep last night remember? You know what? We should turn in right now. Good night, get off my bed.” He started to shoo Kyuhyun off the couch.
“Phfft. Logic. See Sungmin, we are young, we should do crazy things, it must be written in a book of rules somewhere,” Kyuhyun reasoned, staying right where he was.
“Dr. Cho, you have done enough crazy things to last you a lifetime. Look at you,” Sungmin spread his arms wide. “You’ve moved into a stranger’s house! Who does that?”
The excitement drained out fast from Kyuhyun’s face. “You’re not a stranger,” he said very quietly.
Sungmin didn’t expect to feel guilt. “I was a stranger.” Somehow, the use of past tense was just cold comfort to Kyuhyun. Throwing down his weapons, Sungmin sighed, “I thought you said you wanted to go star-gazing.”
“You don’t have to entertain me,” Kyuhyun said in a very subdued manner.
“I’ve never wanted to do anything more than star-gazing! Let’s go!” cheered Sungmin. Pretentiously.
It was great that Kyuhyun was easier to handle than a needy lovesick puppy. “Let me get the tent!” he whooped and leaped up from the couch and ran into his room.
“The tent?” Sungmin abandoned his acting and resumed his usual disdain for Kyuhyun.
Dashing out from his room with a large lumpy sack of something, Kyuhyun explained. “If it gets too late, we can spend the night there at the beach.”
“Dr. Cho, the only place we’ll be going to is the rooftop.”
“Oh.” Kyuhyun was crushed but perked up almost immediately. “Can I still bring the tent though?”
“Why would you-“ Sungmin wanted to explain the whole theorem of ‘Why People Shouldn’t Camp Out in the Rooftop’ but deserted that in favor of world peace. “Fine. You may bring the tent.”
Kyuhyun’s tent-happiness was incomprehensible.
. . . . . .
On the way up the stairs, Sungmin whipped around to survey Kyuhyun critically. He was currently lumbering up the steps, one hand holding the ridiculous tent and the other dragging a cumbersome heavy blanket. “Dr. Cho-“
Out of breath from exertion, Kyuhyun leaned onto the railing of the staircase. “’Dr. Cho. Hey. You idiot! Oi.’. Honestly, Mr. Lee, my name is Kyuhyun. Perhaps you should use it. Everyone else does.”
“-are you harboring the grand illusion that we’re going to spend the night in the roof? Because that’s not happening, I think I should just point that out.” Sungmin was pretending Kyuhyun had never spoken.
“Just in case,” Kyuhyun smiled infuriatingly.
“I’m not going to help,” stated Sungmin nonchalantly, crossing his arm at the top of the stairs while he watch Kyuhyun huffed and puffed.
“Knew you were heartless.”
Sighing, Sungmin went down the stairs to Kyuhyun and took the edge of the blanket. “This is only because I’m too nice a person. It doesn’t mean I’m agreeable to sleeping anywhere but in my bed.”
Sungmin was standing a step up from Kyuhyun, so they were at eye-level, linked by a horrendously heavy black blanket, the edges of which were in each of their hands. The weight they were sharing made their hands dipped and brushed together. Sungmin frowned at that and quickly moved on. But he had only climbed two steps before he was stopped. “What,” he said, when he saw that Kyuhyun was pulling him back with the blanket. That smile of his reappeared.
“Walk with me,” Kyuhyun said, impish grin marring his perfect features. “So I don’t feel like I’m taking my dog out to the park.”
To his credit, all Sungmin did was to sulk very sullenly. But he allowed Kyuhyun to step up to him. “Let’s walk up to the stars.”
“That sounds like a movie slogan,” said Sungmin grudgingly. He climbed over the first step.
“Maybe I should become a scriptwriter.” Kyuhyun followed suit.
“Stick to cell count, Dr. Cho, don’t poison the masses.” The tail of the blanket trudged up too.
“Excuse you, I’d call that a mass lecture on my profound ways.” Everyone cleared over the first step safely. Even the tent.
They were taking the stairs, one step at a time, side by side. Every time Sungmin wanted to rush, Kyuhyun would hold him back with a tug on the blanket. Occasionally, their hands would come together, a slight bump, the cool skin on Sungmin’s knuckles grazing Kyuhyun’s warm fingers, contact fleeting but somehow reassuring. And it actually didn’t feel that bad at all. The staircase was quiet, just their easy breathing and the light shuffling of sneakers against concrete as they went headed to the stars; a blanket connecting their hands together. Hand (almost) in hand, one step, two steps, three steps; they eventually pieced together a harmonious rhythm as their footsteps synced. No one spoke because there was no need for words. No one felt the need to fill in the silence.
It wasn’t about erratic heartbeats or heady rushes of emotions. It was about the companionship.
And how right everything just felt.
While they were turning to the only last flight of stairs, Sungmin’s darted to the side and peeked at Kyuhyun, who was busy grabbing hold of the tent which was about to fall out of his grip. When Kyuhyun made to look up, Sungmin quickly averted his eyes and hastily pretended to get a better grasp on the blanket as well. Two steps up the stairs, Kyuhyun stole a glance at Sungmin and caught him turning his head away from him in time. Smiling to himself, Kyuhyun decided to focus very hard on the exceedingly arduous task of stair climbing instead. People who wanted to peep could peep all they want.
Kyuhyun wished the stairs were longer, wished the moment would stretch longer. But they had just crossed over the border of the stairs and onto the roof. It was a completely different ambience; one which clearly hinted that that moment had ended. He almost didn’t want to let go. But Sungmin did. Smiling ruefully, Kyuhyun folded the blanket and set it on the wooden table, together with the unassembled tent. The rooftop was bare except for the table and its set of stools. It was also very dark.
“Why is there no lighting installed?” Squinting into the dark, Kyuhyun could see no more than the rooftops of the other building around their block. He strolled up to the edge of the low wall and peered into the night. Visibility was limited.
“I rarely come up here,” explained Sungmin, taking a seat in one of the stools. “I didn’t move in very long and Mr. Zhou-“ There was a wry take on Kyuhyun’s smile. “-doesn’t seem very fond of the roof either. So it just stayed the way it was. Empty.”
“All the things you can do with this space.” Kyuhyun shook his head. There was someone skipping rope in the rooftop three blocks away; she stumbled over the rope after the fifteenth count. Turning back to Sungmin, Kyuhyun asked, “Why don’t you try planting something up here?”
“I tried,” said Sungmin self-defensively. “They all died on me.”
“They died on you?” Kyuhyun’s brows scooted up to his hairline. “You mean they slit their wrists or something?”
“Have you kept plants before? It’s hard being a gardener. I mean, you have to water yourself and then you have to water them, it’s tough. Then there’s laundry to do, dishes to wash, shows to watch, roads to travel, books to read, cards to write, emails to send, music to slam. Most upsetting of all, there are people to deal with. People to love, people to hate, people to say hi-bye to, people to ignore. I can hardly keep myself alive, let alone cactuses.”
“Cactuses can die?” sputtered Kyuhyun.
“All living things are capable of dying.” Sungmin felt nothing less than a philosopher.
“Irrefutable and extremely sad fact…but also really weird. How do you kill a cactus?”
“A lethal combination of God-given aptitude for homicide - me - and an inclination to die - the plant -,” elaborated Sungmin. “Or, thirty days of summer sun without water.”
“Suicidal plants, I see,” nodded Kyuhyun, choosing to overlook the second half of the sentence.
Nonetheless, Sungmin was agreeable to it. “Glad you see.”
“The goldfishes are still surviving though.”
“I credit that to their will for survival and Ryeowook. Besides, they love feeding on their own poop. Self-sufficient fishes for the win.”
“Why don’t you plant flowers?”
“I doubt they’ll live to bloom anyway.”
“What’s your favorite flower?”
“Don’t have one.” Sungmin turned away.
“What was your favorite flower?” rectified Kyuhyun. His mumble was easily heard amongst the muted background noise of the city. Those words sailed through the air accompanied by puffs of white smoke which disintegrated into the cool autumn night. But they did nothing to disguise his intent.
Leaning against the wall, Kyuhyun looked at Sungmin who was sitting a few meters away. He could hardly see the outline of his features, there were so many shadows playing tricks on his eyes. Kyuhyun couldn’t tell what the expression on Sungmin’s face was like.
Sungmin was on the verge of a comeback, whether it was blistering (as usual) or compliant (like this afternoon), Kyuhyun had no idea because his gaze suddenly averted skywards and no words formed from opened lips.
“Look up,” Sungmin finally said, in a voice filled with awe.
Lifting his head, Kyuhyun blinked at the vast expanse of the night sky. It was decidedly barren. “There are no stars tonight.”
“No,” refuted Sungmin, “there! Over there. Come.” An urgent waving motion.
Kyuhyun walked over and sat beside Sungmin. “Follow my finger,” advised Sungmin. So Kyuhyun rested a cheek on Sungmin’s bicep and his eyes followed the direction he was pointing in. Then he saw it. A single bright speck in the borderless black space.
“There are lots of stars. But we’re in the city so it’s too bright for stars to shine through. Doesn’t mean they are not t-there though.” A small shiver ran through Sungmin. It was colder at the roof than he had thought. Pulling his jacket closer around him, he said insolently to Kyuhyun, “You can get your cheek off my arm now.”
Smiling, Kyuhyun straightened himself and reached for the blanket on the table. Draping one end over himself, he put an arm over Sungmin and laid the other end on his shoulder. It enveloped Sungmin and created a snug warm space that encompassed the both of them.
“What are you doing?” asked Sungmin, pulling the blanket away. The sudden invasion of cool air made him trembled again.
“It’s cold, blankets are functional things, you know? Take the blanket,” said Kyuhyun, flapping his hand a little.
That sounded very logical and it was so cold. Hence Sungmin took the end of the blanket that Kyuhyun was holding over him and snuggled up, drawing his legs up on to the stool and into the blanket as well. Kyuhyun followed suit. It felt cozy. Their shoulders were pressed together and Kyuhyun’s cold toes tickled Sungmin’s until he squirmed and almost fell over his chair for the second time today. Chuckling loudly, Kyuhyun helped Sungmin to safety and together they stared at that sole sparkle in the sky.
Suddenly, a smile broke out on Sungmin’s face. Kyuhyun watched it bloomed and dimmed. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“Can you see me now?” asked Sungmin instead.
“Huh?”
Instead of answering, Sungmin pointed to the tent and asked, “What’s the color of the tent?”
Kyuhyun was very puzzled by the series of curious questions Sungmin was asking but he answered dutifully. “Purple.” One toenail dug into Sungmin’s heel; he gave Kyuhyun’s calf a sharp smack. It yielded him a shrill yap.
“Who buys purple tents?”
“It’s a survival thing. Say if we get lost in a mountain on a camping trip, the helicopter-“
“ We? Ok, never mind. Now look at it. What color is it now, as you see it?”
“Purple?” Kyuhyun attempted again, one hand holding his poor calf in a consoling manner. But Sungmin flipped the whites of his eyes at him. Turning back to the tent, Kyuhyun glared hard at it.
“Black?”
“Correct! It’s black to me too,” Sungmin smiled smugly. “We’re equals now.”
It dawned on Kyuhyun then, what Sungmin was trying to illustrate. In this poorly lit area, Kyuhyun was seeing things in the same light as Sungmin. He surveyed their surroundings. There were no colors in this world; all the reds, greens and blues had the brilliance in them bled out to dull shades of black and grey. Everything looked bleak. He had stumbled into Sungmin’s world.
“Just now, I was thinking about the photo shoot last night,” Sungmin said softly. “It made me feel…”
“Invincible? Formidable?” Kyuhyun guessed.
“Happy.”
Kyuhyun looked over in surprise. Sungmin’s interpretation was different from his. But they were different, after all. Quite so.
Sungmin glanced over at Kyuhyun too. Their eyes met in the dark, glittering indecipherable pools. Breaking eye contact and taking to staring his knees instead, Sungmin said, “There are many things I can no longer do. Things that you take for granted. I can’t study chemistry. I can’t select vegetables. I can’t differentiate the red and blue indicators on most hot/cold taps either. We,” Sungmin hesitated for a second and silence started bouncing off the walls around them.
We. How was it possible for a single word to hold so much promise?
Sungmin dropped whatever he was going to say, however. “Do you understand?”
Kyuhyun’s heart jolted at Sungmin’s concession when he recalled their conversation at breakfast yesterday. He didn’t realise that he had accidentally hurt Sungmin. Again. Were there other episodes where he had unwittingly hurt him? When Sungmin had actually chose to keep quiet about it? And exactly how difficult it was for him to actually stand up and admit, ‘Hey, we can’t do that because, you know, I’m colorblind’.
“You know, but you don’t understand.” Sungmin was smiling but his words were blunt and they pricked Kyuhyun. “It’s not your fault. Because we are not equals.” Sungmin amended himself. “And we will never be.” He played with the loose threads of the blanket for a while. “I can’t expect you to fill my shoes and see things that you’ll never be able to see, can’t expect you to live in the dark like I do, like where we’re right now. That’s too demanding.”
“But I realise that even though I can no longer see rainbows, I can still look up at the stars.” Sungmin tilted his head up towards the sky and Kyuhyun could make out the stars in his eyes.
“I have to give up some things but I can learn to be content. There are still things I can look forward to, things I can still appreciate. I’m not deaf or a mute and it’s not like, I’m b-blind,” he tripped slightly over the word. “There’s still hope for me, right? I can still be happy.” Rather absent mindedly, Sungmin’s hand moved to his back and ran over the jut of his shoulder blade, as if he were nursing the stump of a broken wing.
Sungmin was quiet after that and Kyuhyun didn’t know what to say either. He didn’t know if he should voice his approval or started arguing with Sungmin again. If he reached out, Sungmin would only shun him.
He had thought they shared the same epiphany but they didn’t. The two of them had veered off in opposite directions even though they were on the same tangent. Hope had made Kyuhyun want to tear down a wall while Sungmin found contentment in just leaning against it. There was truth in what Sungmin had said, Kyuhyun simply had no idea what he had gone through and was still going through.
But he didn’t really want to think about it right now, he procrastinated the act of thinking because Sungmin had started talking again.
“Forget-me-nots,” he muttered in a faraway voice; as if he were shouting from the hilltop but all that entered Kyuhyun’s ear was a tiny wheeze. Kyuhyun turned to look at Sungmin’s profile, eyes tracing a slow path along the slope of his nose, the curves of his lips. When Sungmin returned his gaze, Kyuhyun saw no trace of emotion on his face. But something tinted his eyes over even though there were no tears.
“Blue,” Sungmin whispered, “my favorite color was blue.”
. . . . .
They sat there for a long time or maybe it was just thirty minutes but no one knew for sure since they didn’t check the time. Time seemed infinitesimal right then. But it still trickled along until the only remaining light that shone on them was moonbeams.
Neither Sungmin nor Kyuhyun made a move to get up or show any inclination to want to return to the apartment. Kyuhyun didn’t know what Sungmin’s thoughts were as he stared up at the skies, but he himself was trying to blank out his mind, choosing to relish the intimacy instead. It was so dark in this world. The only consoling thing was Sungmin’s shoulder nestled against his; the warmth seeping into the distance between them.
There was a sudden deadweight on Kyuhyun’s shoulder and he jerked away, until he turned and saw that it was just Sungmin’s head lolling on him. Wrapping the blanket tighter around them, Kyuhyun took off Sungmin’s glasses and laid it on the table. Gently, he tucked Sungmin’s head in the crook of his neck. Then his lids dropped to half mast before he shut them entirely and leaned on to Sungmin who was anchored beside him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, but he would save the thinking for another sleepless night. Right now, he just wanted to sink into the moment.
They were standing on the same plane, as equals. For a short period of time, they saw the world as how the other saw it.
This was their little universe.
((●≧艸≦)
p.s.: after writing the ‘hand (almost) in hand, one step, two steps, three steps’, i stared at it, thought for a while and went, ‘shit, isn’t that a jay chou lyric’ lmfao. w/e. it’s staying ._. plagiarism sue-ers can go over to the left and under a speeding bullet train
p.p.s.: i can't foresee the next update but happy chinese new year, all you rodents! /meows
p.p.p.s.: can you believe the no. of words i've devoted to writing about ratatouille. i've never had it before, i've never smelled it before. all i did was watch an animated rat cook animated ratatouille
beta → teexsaurus, sup baby
a/n → i'm a part-time plant killer
Chapter 16: 小宇宙 | Little Universe -[2/2]
“Just watch,” said Sungmin when Kyuhyun had finally gotten over his fake scald and crept over to lord over the cooking process. Sungmin toppled the pan over a plate and the cold oil-coated greens fell into it. Kyuhyun laughed dryly until he realised Sungmin was looking at him with a ‘You think it’s funny? You think it’s funny if I slam this pan into your face too?’ expression. So he ceased chortling.
The pan was oiled again. After setting it on the stove, Sungmin set about chopping garlic and onions. He smashed the cloves of garlic with the back of the chopper, removed the skin and diced it up swiftly. The onion stood by the side. Sungmin’s eyes slid warily over it. “Chop the onions,” he instructed Kyuhyun.
“Huh?” Kyuhyun remarked remarkably. I thought you told me to just watch.”
“Humans are fickle animals, Dr. Cho. Quick, before the pan gets overheated,” urged Sungmin.
“OK, what do I do?” asked Kyuhyun.
“First, you peel the skin off.” Kyuhyun undressed the onion. He found it to be a pleasurable experience.
“Next, you chop it up into pieces.” The chopper was handed to Kyuhyun. “Stay safe,” Sungmin said, as if Kyuhyun was about to embark on a spy mission. “And do the chopping over there.” he pointed to the kitchen table.
Kyuhyun looked in the direction Sungmin was pointing. “Why?”
Sungmin picked the first available excuse in his mind. “Because I don’t like you.”
“I’m hurt,” said Kyuhyun, sticking his lower lip out.
“Good.” There was a nod of satisfaction.
Three minutes later, a sobbing Kyuhyun handed the bowl of diced onions to Sungmin and he finally understood why he had been sent into temporary exile. “It will get better,” consoled Sungmin who handed him a towel. Kyuhyun sobbed harder.
The chopped onion and garlic were thrown into the pan where they sizzled and spat oil in all directions. “Argh!” yipped Kyuhyun who was scalded for real this time. He was crying and jumping and his hands were flying all over to evade sputtered oil. This was so resplendently pathetic that Sungmin laughed.
“Now you know what to do for your scalds,” he chuckled, stirring the pan’s contents with a spatula. Fragrant smells billowed from the pan and flooded the kitchen. “Smells great,” Kyuhyun quipped encouragingly from the sink. He was putting his neck under running water, collar all drenched already.
Sungmin grabbed a handful of chopped tomatoes, held it over the pan, squeezed their juices out and dumped the pulp in the pan. Grab, squeeze, dump, repeat. Meanwhile, Kyuhyun was being useful by gingerly applying ointment to his wet neck.
“No, you idiot! Dry your neck first.” The tomatoes needed to be simmered for a few minutes. So Sungmin had some free time to viciously rub Kyuhun’s neck dry with a napkin and smeared ointment on it. “Hey! Stop! Owwwww!” When Kyuhyun struggled, Sungmin locked him into a stranglehold. “Let’s see how you like this,” he gritted out while trying to get cream on to Kyuhyun’s neck. Unbeknownst to him, Sungmin looked like he wanted to end Kyuhyun instead of treating him.
“Where did you learn that from!” Kyuhyun panted when Sungmin released him. His neck felt extremely oily right now.
Breathing harder than Kyuhyun, Sungmin answered mid-exhale. “Google.” He took off his glasses and wiped the oil off them with the hem of Kyuhyun’s shirt.
“You Google the weirdest shit.”
“I know a lot about being a midwife too.” The glasses resumed their place on Sungmin’s nose. They gave him an air of midwife authority.
Kyuhyun was definitely intrigued but decided not to ask. He still needed his sanity to last him for this lifetime.
After playing doctor, Sungmin added the bell peppers and stirred his heart out. “This is the boring bit,” commented Kyuhyun.
“No, you get to taste a lot of stuff. Try this.” The spatula was lifted to Kyuhyun’s lips. He crossed his eyes looking at it. There was a piece of yellow bell pepper on it, accompanied by some tomato sauce. When he didn’t open his mouth, Sungmin poked his lips with the corner of the spatula. “Open up.” Ever the obedient child, Kyuhyun slackened his jaw. “Ahhh-“ The spatula was shoved into his mouth, Kyuhyun bit on it and refused to let go until Sungmin slapped his shoulder.
“Chew, swallow, don’t die,” said Sungmin. “How is it?”
“Excellent!” Kyuhyun declared, although truthfully, while the sauce was fragrant, he couldn’t really taste anything but the stinging sourness of the tomatoes.
“I haven’t even seasoned it yet,” frowned Sungmin. Kyuhyun rolled his eyes up and decided to hibernate at the kitchen table. “Wake me up when winter’s over.” A small piece of pepper was thrown at Kyuhyun. It hit him on the head and bounced off. The hibernating bear didn’t budge.
“Some help,” muttered Sungmin. The peppers were done. Sungmin poured the concoction into a skillet and arranged the slices of zucchini, eggplant and whatever remained of the tomatoes in swirls, on top of the sauce. Then he mixed some thyme, garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper together and poured it over the vegetables. After covering the skillet with aluminum foil, he placed it into the oven, which had already been pre-heated, and since they wouldn’t be able to see each other until two hours later, he went to disturb the bear.
“Get up,” he kicked Kyuhyun in the shin. “Go bathe before dinner.”
“I didn’t even sweat today.”
“It’s not for you,” said Sungmin, foot digging into the back of Kyuhyun’s calf. “It’s for me. I feel better around clean sterile people.”
“I’m not sterile!” hollered Kyuhyun.
Sungmin delivered an expert chop on Kyuhyun’s back and received a grimace from him. “There are many meanings to a word. This conversation is clearly sterile.”
. . . . .
“The rat, rat-tee-“ attempted Kyuhyun but he soon gave up. “Nice rat,” he complimented Sungmin after dinner.
“Thanks. I mean I already knew that, but verification is much appreciated.” Sungmin had the remote control and he was surfing on the high tides of Tuesday television. It was stormy out here. Tuesdays have the worst shows. He would have to write an email to ask the expert on that later. “There’s nothing on TV,” complained Sungmin.
The clock read 8pm. It was still too early for bed. Kyuhyun ruffled the pages of his brain. “Hey,” he called out as he closed up the distance between them on the couch. “Want to go star-gazing?”
He was leaning over to peer at Sungmin in the face, sudden excitement shining on his face. But Sungmin leaned away. “No. Where did you even get that?”
“We can lie on the beach and look at the stars. Come on! It will be fun,” enthused Kyuhyun.
“I don’t want to go star-gazing on a Tuesday night, Dr. Cho. Firstly, the beach is an hour’s drive away. Secondly, it’s autumn. Freezing our arses out does not make for nice experiences. It’s a bad thing. Bad!” Sungmin figured that babies like Kyuhyun needed baby talk. “Bad!” he repeated again, because he liked the gesture he was making when saying the word (which was really, 1. Splay your hands 2. Flail hard). “Thirdly, we’re exhausted, we didn’t get any sleep last night remember? You know what? We should turn in right now. Good night, get off my bed.” He started to shoo Kyuhyun off the couch.
“Phfft. Logic. See Sungmin, we are young, we should do crazy things, it must be written in a book of rules somewhere,” Kyuhyun reasoned, staying right where he was.
“Dr. Cho, you have done enough crazy things to last you a lifetime. Look at you,” Sungmin spread his arms wide. “You’ve moved into a stranger’s house! Who does that?”
The excitement drained out fast from Kyuhyun’s face. “You’re not a stranger,” he said very quietly.
Sungmin didn’t expect to feel guilt. “I was a stranger.” Somehow, the use of past tense was just cold comfort to Kyuhyun. Throwing down his weapons, Sungmin sighed, “I thought you said you wanted to go star-gazing.”
“You don’t have to entertain me,” Kyuhyun said in a very subdued manner.
“I’ve never wanted to do anything more than star-gazing! Let’s go!” cheered Sungmin. Pretentiously.
It was great that Kyuhyun was easier to handle than a needy lovesick puppy. “Let me get the tent!” he whooped and leaped up from the couch and ran into his room.
“The tent?” Sungmin abandoned his acting and resumed his usual disdain for Kyuhyun.
Dashing out from his room with a large lumpy sack of something, Kyuhyun explained. “If it gets too late, we can spend the night there at the beach.”
“Dr. Cho, the only place we’ll be going to is the rooftop.”
“Oh.” Kyuhyun was crushed but perked up almost immediately. “Can I still bring the tent though?”
“Why would you-“ Sungmin wanted to explain the whole theorem of ‘Why People Shouldn’t Camp Out in the Rooftop’ but deserted that in favor of world peace. “Fine. You may bring the tent.”
Kyuhyun’s tent-happiness was incomprehensible.
. . . . . .
On the way up the stairs, Sungmin whipped around to survey Kyuhyun critically. He was currently lumbering up the steps, one hand holding the ridiculous tent and the other dragging a cumbersome heavy blanket. “Dr. Cho-“
Out of breath from exertion, Kyuhyun leaned onto the railing of the staircase. “’Dr. Cho. Hey. You idiot! Oi.’. Honestly, Mr. Lee, my name is Kyuhyun. Perhaps you should use it. Everyone else does.”
“-are you harboring the grand illusion that we’re going to spend the night in the roof? Because that’s not happening, I think I should just point that out.” Sungmin was pretending Kyuhyun had never spoken.
“Just in case,” Kyuhyun smiled infuriatingly.
“I’m not going to help,” stated Sungmin nonchalantly, crossing his arm at the top of the stairs while he watch Kyuhyun huffed and puffed.
“Knew you were heartless.”
Sighing, Sungmin went down the stairs to Kyuhyun and took the edge of the blanket. “This is only because I’m too nice a person. It doesn’t mean I’m agreeable to sleeping anywhere but in my bed.”
Sungmin was standing a step up from Kyuhyun, so they were at eye-level, linked by a horrendously heavy black blanket, the edges of which were in each of their hands. The weight they were sharing made their hands dipped and brushed together. Sungmin frowned at that and quickly moved on. But he had only climbed two steps before he was stopped. “What,” he said, when he saw that Kyuhyun was pulling him back with the blanket. That smile of his reappeared.
“Walk with me,” Kyuhyun said, impish grin marring his perfect features. “So I don’t feel like I’m taking my dog out to the park.”
To his credit, all Sungmin did was to sulk very sullenly. But he allowed Kyuhyun to step up to him. “Let’s walk up to the stars.”
“That sounds like a movie slogan,” said Sungmin grudgingly. He climbed over the first step.
“Maybe I should become a scriptwriter.” Kyuhyun followed suit.
“Stick to cell count, Dr. Cho, don’t poison the masses.” The tail of the blanket trudged up too.
“Excuse you, I’d call that a mass lecture on my profound ways.” Everyone cleared over the first step safely. Even the tent.
They were taking the stairs, one step at a time, side by side. Every time Sungmin wanted to rush, Kyuhyun would hold him back with a tug on the blanket. Occasionally, their hands would come together, a slight bump, the cool skin on Sungmin’s knuckles grazing Kyuhyun’s warm fingers, contact fleeting but somehow reassuring. And it actually didn’t feel that bad at all. The staircase was quiet, just their easy breathing and the light shuffling of sneakers against concrete as they went headed to the stars; a blanket connecting their hands together. Hand (almost) in hand, one step, two steps, three steps; they eventually pieced together a harmonious rhythm as their footsteps synced. No one spoke because there was no need for words. No one felt the need to fill in the silence.
It wasn’t about erratic heartbeats or heady rushes of emotions. It was about the companionship.
And how right everything just felt.
While they were turning to the only last flight of stairs, Sungmin’s darted to the side and peeked at Kyuhyun, who was busy grabbing hold of the tent which was about to fall out of his grip. When Kyuhyun made to look up, Sungmin quickly averted his eyes and hastily pretended to get a better grasp on the blanket as well. Two steps up the stairs, Kyuhyun stole a glance at Sungmin and caught him turning his head away from him in time. Smiling to himself, Kyuhyun decided to focus very hard on the exceedingly arduous task of stair climbing instead. People who wanted to peep could peep all they want.
Kyuhyun wished the stairs were longer, wished the moment would stretch longer. But they had just crossed over the border of the stairs and onto the roof. It was a completely different ambience; one which clearly hinted that that moment had ended. He almost didn’t want to let go. But Sungmin did. Smiling ruefully, Kyuhyun folded the blanket and set it on the wooden table, together with the unassembled tent. The rooftop was bare except for the table and its set of stools. It was also very dark.
“Why is there no lighting installed?” Squinting into the dark, Kyuhyun could see no more than the rooftops of the other building around their block. He strolled up to the edge of the low wall and peered into the night. Visibility was limited.
“I rarely come up here,” explained Sungmin, taking a seat in one of the stools. “I didn’t move in very long and Mr. Zhou-“ There was a wry take on Kyuhyun’s smile. “-doesn’t seem very fond of the roof either. So it just stayed the way it was. Empty.”
“All the things you can do with this space.” Kyuhyun shook his head. There was someone skipping rope in the rooftop three blocks away; she stumbled over the rope after the fifteenth count. Turning back to Sungmin, Kyuhyun asked, “Why don’t you try planting something up here?”
“I tried,” said Sungmin self-defensively. “They all died on me.”
“They died on you?” Kyuhyun’s brows scooted up to his hairline. “You mean they slit their wrists or something?”
“Have you kept plants before? It’s hard being a gardener. I mean, you have to water yourself and then you have to water them, it’s tough. Then there’s laundry to do, dishes to wash, shows to watch, roads to travel, books to read, cards to write, emails to send, music to slam. Most upsetting of all, there are people to deal with. People to love, people to hate, people to say hi-bye to, people to ignore. I can hardly keep myself alive, let alone cactuses.”
“Cactuses can die?” sputtered Kyuhyun.
“All living things are capable of dying.” Sungmin felt nothing less than a philosopher.
“Irrefutable and extremely sad fact…but also really weird. How do you kill a cactus?”
“A lethal combination of God-given aptitude for homicide - me - and an inclination to die - the plant -,” elaborated Sungmin. “Or, thirty days of summer sun without water.”
“Suicidal plants, I see,” nodded Kyuhyun, choosing to overlook the second half of the sentence.
Nonetheless, Sungmin was agreeable to it. “Glad you see.”
“The goldfishes are still surviving though.”
“I credit that to their will for survival and Ryeowook. Besides, they love feeding on their own poop. Self-sufficient fishes for the win.”
“Why don’t you plant flowers?”
“I doubt they’ll live to bloom anyway.”
“What’s your favorite flower?”
“Don’t have one.” Sungmin turned away.
“What was your favorite flower?” rectified Kyuhyun. His mumble was easily heard amongst the muted background noise of the city. Those words sailed through the air accompanied by puffs of white smoke which disintegrated into the cool autumn night. But they did nothing to disguise his intent.
Leaning against the wall, Kyuhyun looked at Sungmin who was sitting a few meters away. He could hardly see the outline of his features, there were so many shadows playing tricks on his eyes. Kyuhyun couldn’t tell what the expression on Sungmin’s face was like.
Sungmin was on the verge of a comeback, whether it was blistering (as usual) or compliant (like this afternoon), Kyuhyun had no idea because his gaze suddenly averted skywards and no words formed from opened lips.
“Look up,” Sungmin finally said, in a voice filled with awe.
Lifting his head, Kyuhyun blinked at the vast expanse of the night sky. It was decidedly barren. “There are no stars tonight.”
“No,” refuted Sungmin, “there! Over there. Come.” An urgent waving motion.
Kyuhyun walked over and sat beside Sungmin. “Follow my finger,” advised Sungmin. So Kyuhyun rested a cheek on Sungmin’s bicep and his eyes followed the direction he was pointing in. Then he saw it. A single bright speck in the borderless black space.
“There are lots of stars. But we’re in the city so it’s too bright for stars to shine through. Doesn’t mean they are not t-there though.” A small shiver ran through Sungmin. It was colder at the roof than he had thought. Pulling his jacket closer around him, he said insolently to Kyuhyun, “You can get your cheek off my arm now.”
Smiling, Kyuhyun straightened himself and reached for the blanket on the table. Draping one end over himself, he put an arm over Sungmin and laid the other end on his shoulder. It enveloped Sungmin and created a snug warm space that encompassed the both of them.
“What are you doing?” asked Sungmin, pulling the blanket away. The sudden invasion of cool air made him trembled again.
“It’s cold, blankets are functional things, you know? Take the blanket,” said Kyuhyun, flapping his hand a little.
That sounded very logical and it was so cold. Hence Sungmin took the end of the blanket that Kyuhyun was holding over him and snuggled up, drawing his legs up on to the stool and into the blanket as well. Kyuhyun followed suit. It felt cozy. Their shoulders were pressed together and Kyuhyun’s cold toes tickled Sungmin’s until he squirmed and almost fell over his chair for the second time today. Chuckling loudly, Kyuhyun helped Sungmin to safety and together they stared at that sole sparkle in the sky.
Suddenly, a smile broke out on Sungmin’s face. Kyuhyun watched it bloomed and dimmed. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“Can you see me now?” asked Sungmin instead.
“Huh?”
Instead of answering, Sungmin pointed to the tent and asked, “What’s the color of the tent?”
Kyuhyun was very puzzled by the series of curious questions Sungmin was asking but he answered dutifully. “Purple.” One toenail dug into Sungmin’s heel; he gave Kyuhyun’s calf a sharp smack. It yielded him a shrill yap.
“Who buys purple tents?”
“It’s a survival thing. Say if we get lost in a mountain on a camping trip, the helicopter-“
“ We? Ok, never mind. Now look at it. What color is it now, as you see it?”
“Purple?” Kyuhyun attempted again, one hand holding his poor calf in a consoling manner. But Sungmin flipped the whites of his eyes at him. Turning back to the tent, Kyuhyun glared hard at it.
“Black?”
“Correct! It’s black to me too,” Sungmin smiled smugly. “We’re equals now.”
It dawned on Kyuhyun then, what Sungmin was trying to illustrate. In this poorly lit area, Kyuhyun was seeing things in the same light as Sungmin. He surveyed their surroundings. There were no colors in this world; all the reds, greens and blues had the brilliance in them bled out to dull shades of black and grey. Everything looked bleak. He had stumbled into Sungmin’s world.
“Just now, I was thinking about the photo shoot last night,” Sungmin said softly. “It made me feel…”
“Invincible? Formidable?” Kyuhyun guessed.
“Happy.”
Kyuhyun looked over in surprise. Sungmin’s interpretation was different from his. But they were different, after all. Quite so.
Sungmin glanced over at Kyuhyun too. Their eyes met in the dark, glittering indecipherable pools. Breaking eye contact and taking to staring his knees instead, Sungmin said, “There are many things I can no longer do. Things that you take for granted. I can’t study chemistry. I can’t select vegetables. I can’t differentiate the red and blue indicators on most hot/cold taps either. We,” Sungmin hesitated for a second and silence started bouncing off the walls around them.
We. How was it possible for a single word to hold so much promise?
Sungmin dropped whatever he was going to say, however. “Do you understand?”
Kyuhyun’s heart jolted at Sungmin’s concession when he recalled their conversation at breakfast yesterday. He didn’t realise that he had accidentally hurt Sungmin. Again. Were there other episodes where he had unwittingly hurt him? When Sungmin had actually chose to keep quiet about it? And exactly how difficult it was for him to actually stand up and admit, ‘Hey, we can’t do that because, you know, I’m colorblind’.
“You know, but you don’t understand.” Sungmin was smiling but his words were blunt and they pricked Kyuhyun. “It’s not your fault. Because we are not equals.” Sungmin amended himself. “And we will never be.” He played with the loose threads of the blanket for a while. “I can’t expect you to fill my shoes and see things that you’ll never be able to see, can’t expect you to live in the dark like I do, like where we’re right now. That’s too demanding.”
“But I realise that even though I can no longer see rainbows, I can still look up at the stars.” Sungmin tilted his head up towards the sky and Kyuhyun could make out the stars in his eyes.
“I have to give up some things but I can learn to be content. There are still things I can look forward to, things I can still appreciate. I’m not deaf or a mute and it’s not like, I’m b-blind,” he tripped slightly over the word. “There’s still hope for me, right? I can still be happy.” Rather absent mindedly, Sungmin’s hand moved to his back and ran over the jut of his shoulder blade, as if he were nursing the stump of a broken wing.
Sungmin was quiet after that and Kyuhyun didn’t know what to say either. He didn’t know if he should voice his approval or started arguing with Sungmin again. If he reached out, Sungmin would only shun him.
He had thought they shared the same epiphany but they didn’t. The two of them had veered off in opposite directions even though they were on the same tangent. Hope had made Kyuhyun want to tear down a wall while Sungmin found contentment in just leaning against it. There was truth in what Sungmin had said, Kyuhyun simply had no idea what he had gone through and was still going through.
But he didn’t really want to think about it right now, he procrastinated the act of thinking because Sungmin had started talking again.
“Forget-me-nots,” he muttered in a faraway voice; as if he were shouting from the hilltop but all that entered Kyuhyun’s ear was a tiny wheeze. Kyuhyun turned to look at Sungmin’s profile, eyes tracing a slow path along the slope of his nose, the curves of his lips. When Sungmin returned his gaze, Kyuhyun saw no trace of emotion on his face. But something tinted his eyes over even though there were no tears.
“Blue,” Sungmin whispered, “my favorite color was blue.”
. . . . .
They sat there for a long time or maybe it was just thirty minutes but no one knew for sure since they didn’t check the time. Time seemed infinitesimal right then. But it still trickled along until the only remaining light that shone on them was moonbeams.
Neither Sungmin nor Kyuhyun made a move to get up or show any inclination to want to return to the apartment. Kyuhyun didn’t know what Sungmin’s thoughts were as he stared up at the skies, but he himself was trying to blank out his mind, choosing to relish the intimacy instead. It was so dark in this world. The only consoling thing was Sungmin’s shoulder nestled against his; the warmth seeping into the distance between them.
There was a sudden deadweight on Kyuhyun’s shoulder and he jerked away, until he turned and saw that it was just Sungmin’s head lolling on him. Wrapping the blanket tighter around them, Kyuhyun took off Sungmin’s glasses and laid it on the table. Gently, he tucked Sungmin’s head in the crook of his neck. Then his lids dropped to half mast before he shut them entirely and leaned on to Sungmin who was anchored beside him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, but he would save the thinking for another sleepless night. Right now, he just wanted to sink into the moment.
They were standing on the same plane, as equals. For a short period of time, they saw the world as how the other saw it.
This was their little universe.
((●≧艸≦)
p.s.: after writing the ‘hand (almost) in hand, one step, two steps, three steps’, i stared at it, thought for a while and went, ‘shit, isn’t that a jay chou lyric’ lmfao. w/e. it’s staying ._. plagiarism sue-ers can go over to the left and under a speeding bullet train
p.p.s.: i can't foresee the next update but happy chinese new year, all you rodents! /meows
p.p.p.s.: can you believe the no. of words i've devoted to writing about ratatouille. i've never had it before, i've never smelled it before. all i did was watch an animated rat cook animated ratatouille