Fried with Fish, part one.
Title: Fried with Fish
Author: onnaonah
Pairing/Members: Kris/Suho, minor Luhan
Rating: R for eating grubs
Written for aideshou's Challenge 09.
Kris wakes up this morning to sunrays filtering through his dusty peach curtains. He feels the soft warmth on the back of his hand, and smiles as he sleepily rubs his goop-littered eyes, watching a peaceful sleeping face on the pillow beside his. Kris decides to remove his hand slowly and move his body carefully away from the bed.
He looks to the dull, peach-curtained window and chuckles. He did not have the time or money to decide the design of his flat when he first searched for one in Seoul five years ago. Everything was pricey, every place loaded with people, everything was hectic. Not even the heaviest traffic jam in his old town could match the street clog on an ordinary Seoul day.
It’s too late to make something special for breakfast now-his boss will be eager to put him in a paper shredder if he dared come late.
Kris groggily walks to the shower and rubs his face again before he opens the container behind the mirror. He sees his bottles of aspirin, some old green pills, and a slim, half-emptied bottle of a golden-toned musk perfume. He closes the container, washes his face, then takes a quick shower. He gets things done quickly, because he’s going to be even tardier if he keeps doing everything so languidly.
With a towel tucked on his hip he searches into his dresser and finds an ordinary dress shirt and pair of trousers. He goes on to button his pale-purplish shirt, wear the rest of his clothing, apply perfume, and kiss the warm blob of red hair sleeping on his bed before going to work. He decides to leave a quick chocolate sandwich with a glass of milk on the dining table, before grabbing one himself and leave.
Kris hates going around the city by any transportation means. Walking is too slow, driving is tiring, and public transportations are too packed. He enters the sidewalk and mingles with running people in various shapes-unfocused salarymen in dress shirts like him, busy ladies walking through with a phone on their cheeks, to the occasional ditching schoolgirls in their uniforms going god knows where. He runs to the staircase leading down to the subway, swipes his card, and waits impatiently, feet tapping anxiously on the tiled floor.
He finally gets his turn and squishes in. That time is the peak of the morning rush hour, so standing in the train holding onto nothing is even enough to remain balanced.
The office was already buzzing when he got there. He quickly went through the lobby, did his fingerprint scan, and rushed to his table to at least start looking occupied. He turns to the clock and sees, psst, quarter to nine, which is some seven dire hours before four. He’ll get home at six, be greeted with dinner and a kiss, and take a warm shower before going to bed.
Kris’ life is stale-it’s been a boring year of work. Flickering monitors with numbered spreadsheets, stacks of paper he doesn’t understand, and impatient glances at the hanging clock. The only reason he goes to the office is to go home, and the only reason he goes home is to come back to work.
The email reminder on the corner of his monitor says he has a meeting at ten. He glances at the clock, looks at the pile of paper at his desk, and misses Joonmyun already. Is he awake now, or is he still asleep? He must have eaten the chocolate sandwich by now, Kris muses, and dips his head as he smiles warmly.
***
Kris was burning in panic two weeks before their second Mid-birthday because he could not find a present yet. The Mid-birthday was a day he invented with Joonmyun, a midpoint between his and Joonmyun’s birthdays just so that they could have an extra date to celebrate. Their Mid-birthday happened in the summer, the perfect time to eat bowls and bowls of red bean ice and cold noodles. They had cleared their schedules for August 14th, Kris happily agreeing to Joonmyun’s proposal for the time and place.
Both Kris and Joonmyun had been busy with their life as college juniors. Last year, Joonmyun managed to go through Seouldae’s slim strip, majoring in Natural Sciences as he had dreamed ever since he started high school. He became pretty famous among his sunbaes and professors for being that smart, active junior, taking more clubs and classes than anyone would think a kid could handle. Meanwhile Kris, never a fan of school and its by-products, somehow still managed to go to University of Seoul’s Accounting, and possibly could have gone to Seouldae too, had he tried.
Kris decided that he would just buy Joonmyun a microphone pendant he saw at some cheapie streetside store in Dongdaemun on the way home. Dating for two years didn’t quite mean that they would upgrade the gifts to some more ‘maturely-priced’ ones. They’d always been a practical pair, never a fan of fine dining or couple drama. Neither Kris nor Joonmyun would mind being given imitation tidbits like those, as long as they’re meaningful.
Kris arrived at the appointed restaurant and saw Joonmyun sitting in a corner, having yet anything ordered.
“Hi,” he greeted, taking the seat across Joonmyun.
Joonmyun smiled. “Hi.”
“Have you waited for long?” Kris asked, and Joonmyun shook his head with a smile. Kris smiled back and searched inside his college bag. “Happy Mid-birthday.”
“Happy Mid-birthday,” Joonmyun replied, sliding a bigger rectangular box across the table in exchange to the small box he received. Joonmyun took the small box and examined it carefully. He gave a smug smirk, guessing, “Are you trying to propose me?”
Kris laughed. “Yes, I guess, in a small, unromantic patbingsu chain restaurant. If you want.”
Joonmyun scoffed in dismissal to the joke and rested his back. “Moron.”
It was quiet, the empty silence filling up like a balloon with the fun ambience of the restaurant, waiting for the bad joke to evaporate.
“Why don’t you open my present?” Kris opened up, gesturing to the small box he gave.
Joonmyun straightened his back and took the box. “Promise me you’ll open mine after I open this.”
Joonmyun put the box on the table and suddenly looked up to Kris with a mischievous smile. “…we haven’t ordered anything.”
Kris lit in realization. “Right!” he laughed, “Hold up, hold up, I’ll get something.”
Joonmyun watched as Kris stood from his seat and launched to order. Now that Kris was busy queuing, Joonmyun looked down to the box and was starting to grow curious. He shook the box just so maybe he could hear something shake inside, but no, he heard nothing. It might be a real ring in foam holders after all.
Kris came back with a bowl of ordinary patbingsu and a bowl of froyo bingsu. Joonmyun was mortified. Ew, froyo? The lankier the guy the weirder the tastebuds, he shivers. Kris could see the expression from his place. He placed the tray between them and laughed. “What, the froyo bingsu?”
“No, nothing,” Joonmyun shook his head slowly and took his bowl of patbingsu.
“Now open the present wouldn’t you,” Kris mentioned.
Joonmyun looked up from his bowl and looked back down to the brown little box. “What about we open our presents together? Okay? One, two, three,” he counted, and peeled open the tapes to unveil a small ringbox. Kris unwrapped a box of drinking flask. Both of them laughed.
“What, the tiny box is not what you think,” Kris defended, scooping into his froyo. “Open it.”
Joonmyun finally opened the box and pulled out a small microphone pendant attached to a necklace. Kris smiled with thick pride for Joonmyun as he said, “Congratulations on being accepted in your uni’s choir club, I know how good and picky they are.”
***
Kris comes home to a sweet “Hey,” with water draining on the sink as the backing sound. He puts his briefcase and coat on the arm of his sofa and walks towards Joonmyun, who walks towards Kris whilst wiping his wet hands on his pants. Joonmyun uses his still-moist hands to hold Kris by the face and give a welcome kiss on his tiptoes.
“Come on,“ Joonmyun pulled Kris to the dining table and made him sit down, still in his pale-purplish buttoned dress.
They sit down and have a warm conversation about this boring life, without the need to blow their food because it’s been sitting long enough. Joonmyun tells that he went to the library near the park today to get some fresh air and resume researching for his lab’s project.
To Kris, it’s amazing how long Joonmyun can stay idle and static with only a book in hand. He has never liked books, unlike Joonmyun who can stay reading all day long.
They put the dishes in the sink to wash, so Kris washes and Joonmyun sits for a while on his place at the table. Kris looks back to Joonmyun as Joonmyun looks at the makeshift living room ahead of him, Kris and the sink on his right, and stands up from his seat. He turns around to look beyond the apartment window. He looks at the garden five stories down, and at the unseen edge of the skyscraper-jagged Seoul skyline.
***
Yesterday, Kris wore lavender. Today, Kris wears pale yellow. He feels rather happy after their solemn dinner, and he believes the subconscious mind is the one picking the color of one’s clothes. He chooses to practice patience today, challenging himself not to glance at the clock on the wall or even the one at the end of his taskbar.
He was typing down a report when he was asked:
“You look green, Kris. What did you eat this time?” His coworker, Luhan, was rushing with hot, impatient paper in his hands, but Kris’ pale color was too striking a difference to not see. Luhan holds a caring hand to his forehead. “You’re warm.”
“I’m just tired.” Kris smiles, and bats the hand slowly. “And I don’t think I ate anything weird.”
Luhan sighs. “I really want to take care of your problem but I need to give this really important document right now. I’ll get back to you when I can.“
“Man, I’m okay. Don’t wo-” Kris starts gagging and Luhan knows best to just spin the lanky guy around towards the closest toilet. Kris runs, still holding the puke, and as soon as he disappears, Luhan runs to the appointment he’s scheduled in.
Kris bursts into the restroom and rushes to the closest stall. He locks it hastily and immediately emptied his burning stomach down the bowl. Yes he has been slightly dizzy from the time he woke up, but he doesn’t think anything from last night’s innocent supper would harm him.
He pukes again and he hates how it feels, his stomach pressing way over the edge, the taste too sour at the back of his throat. When he knows he’s done, he tries to regulate his panting breath, and closes the lid before flushing the toilet.
Kris walks out of the stall to luckily see no one in the bathroom. He opens the washbasin tap and takes some water to cleanse his mouth with.
He walks pretty calmly out of the restroom, feeling much better and generally okay already. He makes a mental note to go to the convenience store and get some OTC pills on the way home. He sits down and sighs heavily before resuming typing the report.
The day runs very, very slowly and it’s only lunch break when Kris decided to quit his own mission of not peeking at the time. Luhan only gets to him at two, telling that he should stop leading whatever lifestyle he’s currently having.
“Like, I’m okay, Lu, I just have stomach problems every now and then. You know me,” Kris retorts when he gets scolded by his closest coworker. Luhan is sitting down across him on a chair he dragged nearby.
“Yes, I do know you and how to stop your stomach problems.”
“And how is that…?”
Luhan stands up and sighs with an exhausted smile. He puts the chair he took back to its respective desk, saying, “You never paid attention.”
***
“Sing for me.”
“What?!” Joonmyun jumps in surprise. They were sitting on the grass with some other people at one of the parks in Joonmyun’s uni. It was pretty crowded that day, being the celebratory last day of exams to a few majors-except Natural Sciences. Meanwhile Kris was just going to have his exams next week. His university wasn’t the earliest in holding exams, and majoring in Liberal Arts, he had the excuse of doing some social research to be a lurking guest here in Seouldae. Being in different schools and majors, both Kris and Joonmyun knew that studying together pretty much meant no studying at all, but they did it quite often nonetheless.
“You said you were a part of one of the nation’s best student choir. Prove it, I want to hear a nationally-qualified voice,” Kris closed his book.
“I sing every day and you never heard? I pity you,” Joonmyun stuck his tongue, and moved back to act like he needed some space. “I need to study.”
“Fine.” Kris sighed, and dug on a random page in his book. He pretended reading until he pretty much couldn’t stand it anymore, and opened another topic. “Did you know that my roommate’s going to graduate this summer?”
With his nose still in the book, Joonmyun mumbled, “And…?”
“And I guess you’ve told me a few times about wanting to taste dorm life.”
Joonmyun looked up from his textbook and looked into Kris for a while. “But it’s your uni’s dorm.”
Kris laughed a smile. “No it's not, it just happens to be packed with people from UOS.”
“Oh. Okay…” Joonmyun nodded slowly, as if absorbing the information needed time. “I’ll ask my mom about it.”
Spending the whole summer vacation persuading his parents finally earned Joonmyun the permit to live away from home. He moved in not long after Kris’ old roommate moved out. When Joonmyun’s mom came with him just to see the flat her son was going to live in, he introduced Kris to her as his, well, roommate. Not too much for a lie to your mom.
“Okay, take care, Dear,” Mrs. Kim put her beloved son into a tight, perfumed embrace. Joonmyun rolled his eyes to Kris behind his mom’s back. Kris-ssi stifled a laugh. Joonmyun went out to take his mom to the car, waved goodbye, and went back to the apartment.
When Joonmyun closed the door, Kris was checking the fridge.
“So,” Joonmyun sighed, closing the door, “we’re… roommates.”
“Yeah,” Kris replied, and closed the refrigerator door. “We’re roommates,” he said, three steps before Joonmyun. He smiled.
“Good,” Joonmyun said, dropping himself on the old couch. He absentmindedly turned on the TV.
“Ya,” Kris protested.
“What?” Joonmyun asked.
“I thought you were trying to imply or demonstrate something from the statement ‘we are roommates’.”
Joonmyun only laughed and shot a cushion towards Kris, and resumed watching TV.
“I was serious, though.” Kris retorted.
"After my midterms.”
“Ugh, why,” he returned to the fridge to get himself a glass of milk.
"Oh Kris you know what?" Joonmyun asked as if he had just remembered something.
"What?"
"My choir's going to represent Korea in an international competition in Spain."
Kris' eyes popped open in surprise as he drunk up the milk. He swallowed. "Whoa, congratulations! When is that?"
"January 25th, three, four months from now," Joonmyun smiled with pride.
"Varsity basketball teams can never go on such a big scale," Kris said, and sat beside Joonmyun. "No wonder you've been so busy the past week."
"No, that one was for a team research," Joonmyun corrected and laughed. "I'm starting practice next Monday on, all the way through till the D-Day."
Speaking of D-Day, they both had first met on Sooneung, almost two years ago, at one school they'd never even knew existed. Both had come two hours earlier, Joonmyun already sitting like a stray kid in the hallway beside a set of lockers. He looked approachable and as confused as he was, so Kris said, "Hi," and sat beside Joonmyun. The silent boy politely smiled and gave space. "I'm Kris. What's your name?"
"Kim Joonmyun,” the boy nods slightly. “Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you," Kris parrots, then sighs facing elsewhere.
Being an awkward person, the boy felt alright leaving the bleak introduction ending dead and silent like that. He only responded when asked, asking back just to make it polite. After some small talk, Kris found out that they went to the same test room.
It was only on lunch break that Joonmyun would open up, the difficulty of the test making him babble in protest all the way. Kris only laughed and nodded, keeping to himself that the numbers he left blank were almost double that of Joonmyun's.
They ate their bentos while opening books and worksheets from their respective cramschools, Kris asking Joonmyun generally anything he couldn't understand.
"Did you make that yourself?" Kris asked when Joonmyun first opened his lunchbox. It looked like something made with so much care for a boy's bento.
"My mom made it for me," he smiled, and took a cramschool worksheet, "And you?"
"Made it myself," Kris smiled back. "No one makes my lunchbox."
"I see," Joonmyun nodded, tongue bitter with the regret of asking that question.
They ate and studied afterwards, the bell for the next test always a minute too cruel. They packed their bags and lined up to enter the room, Kris saying, "Good luck," as he dug for a pencil before students scatter to their own desks.
Four draining hours later, most participants came out of the exam room with a sigh. That would be over six hundred collective sighs from this building only, of either relief, dread, or fatigue.
Kris packed his bag slightly longer just to wait for Joonmyun, whose bag was deliberately put beside his. "Let's go," Joonmyun said and stood and walked alongside him out the classroom.
"Why don't you tell me later if you get accepted into your university of choice?" Kris offered on the way to the subway and bus stop. He was a maestro on smooth advances.
"Good deal. How?"
"Like, text?" They arrived at the bus stop and stopped walking.
"Oh, alright, cool," he took out his phone and waited for a number to write.
"You mention your number, I'll send you mine,” Kris looked up from his screen.
"Oh. Alright," Joonmyun shrugged, and started saying his string of numbers. As soon as it was typed down, he felt his phone vibrate for a short while.
"All set," Kris said, right on time with the arrival of the bus. He pointed to it. "Your bus."
Joonmyun nodded and gave a slight nod for goodbye. "Good luck. See you," and left for the bus along with other students in suits.
Kris turned around and continued his way home, nine stations and two lines away.
***
Kris opens the door to his putrid, stinking apartment, and closes the door before taking off his leather shoes and black socks. Today, he wears yellow.
"I'm home," he sings, happy that he will finally meet his dear.
He steps up the wooden platform and stands in front of the TV for a few seconds, smiling and closing his eyes in bliss, then goes to open the fridge to see a half-dried loaf of bread, a bottle of milk, eggs, and the mushy remnants of bibimbap in a bowl.
"I threw up today at the office," he told, still trying to find food. He picked the bibimbap as today's dinner and popped it in the microwave to heat, the dish already a week old. "I wonder why."
He closed the microwave door and turned around leaning on the counter, staring sweetly at the wall behind the dining table chair.
The microwave dinged. "Oh," Kris mutters, and he turns around to grab the dish and put it in two bowls. He puts one bowl in front of him, and the other bowl across him.
"I'm digging in," he says, and starts eating the bibimbap.
When he takes the first spoonful, he notices something different in the smell. "Is this... onion? Or did you put more kimchi?"
The bowl across him did not even clank.
Kris shrugs and eats his first spoonful of the sticky, deteriorating bibimbap. He gags, but tries to convince himself that it's okay. He looks up and smiles to the empty seat ahead of him, with sour food still in his mouth, and tries swallowing.
He looks up again to that seat, and smiles while he takes another bite, the rice making mushy, wet, noises as he slowly chews.
He did not see the skinny, white maggots in his bowl.
He looks to his bowl and calculates that he still has five spoonfuls to go. He looks up to the seat across him and pays attention, nodding sometimes. He takes another bite.
When he was done, he takes his bowl and puts his hand on the other bowl for a second, looks to the seat for a moment before he sighs and takes the still full bowl of rotting bibimbap to the sink. He opens the tap, starts washing the dishes, and wonders why Joonmyun never finishes his meal for the past two years.
Kris doesn’t feel anything, only feels that his mouth feels slightly tangy and weird. He takes his comfortable clothes from the dresser, takes his towel, and locks the bathroom door. He goes to the washbasin and checks himself on the mirror. He sees eyebags and very slight stubbles and decides that he’ll just fix them tomorrow morning. Kris brushes his teeth.
Today, he steps into the bathtub, turns the shower on, and washes his hair. He showers very languidly, taking all the time he needs. Kris assumes that Joonmyun must be either watching TV or studying right now. When he was done, he steps over the side of the bathtub and dries his feet on the mat.
Kris exits the bathroom, steps on the mat again, and entered his bedroom. He sees the dull, peach-colored closed curtains near his bed and fits himself onto his gray-sheeted bed before inhaling deeply. With eyes closed he reaches his hand to the bottom right corner of the neighboring pillow, and opens his eyes softly to see the empty, white wall.
***
The next day, Kris wears mint green. He does not want to mess up any further at work, so there he is, sitting nicely on his desk at seven forty five. Just when he was about to copy some papers, his stomach starts kicking in, and he rushes to the restroom again. Luhan has just entered the working space when he has to witness another run. He immediately put his belongings on his desk and followed Kris with quick steps to the restroom.
The sound of a person puking echoes from the only locked stall. Luhan sighs, and knocks the door.
“Kris?”
The man inside still sounds busy.
He leans his head to the stall door and knocks again. “Kris, are you alright?”
Luhan hears the sound of toilet flushing and steps back to give room for Kris. The lanky man steps out of the stall with an almost-dead look. Kris walks to the sink.
“You should really stop,” Luhan lectures, leaning to the tiled wall near the basin.
Kris was originally holding the tap but then he moved his hands to the edges of the sink trying to hold on. Luhan moves from his place and starts rubbing the back of his friend’s neck, afraid that the guy would heave again.
Kris weakly brushes off the help.
“I’m good,” he said to the sink, panting. He opens the tap and gurgles, and Luhan watches in pity as all of this happens, again. Kris stands up as soon as he was done.
“You would want to go downstairs and get some aid,” Luhan offers.
Kris meekly laughs and nods. Luhan kindly pushes the restroom door open for them, although he is older and has worked longer.
When they get out of the working space, Luhan opens up the conversation. “What did he make for you?”
“Didn’t make anything,” Kris answers, “I took some leftovers from the fridge, and it was slightly sour. I thought it was the kimchi. Joonmyun likes kimchi. We talked about the day yesterday.”
“What was about the day?” Luhan asks, playing along. He is the only person in the office capable of interacting with Kris outside business matters-no other coworker even bothers understanding him.
“Nothing much.” Kris looks up to the elevator number and is disappointed to see that one lift is still on the ground floor, the other on the 26th. “He said that he read a haiku book yesterday. He likes books.”
Luhan sighs at the last sentence and just wants to pat Kris on the back, but he thinks it’s a weird gesture. He looks down to his leather shoes, not sure how to start without offending Kris, “You should stop referring to your partner with present tense, Kris. A-and also stop thinking that your partner still cooks for you, too. You should-“
“Why? He still does.” Kris shrugs. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I mean-“ Luhan rubs the bridge of his nose. “You’ve been eating bad leftovers, drinking spoiled milk, without you even thinking so. Those aren’t food from your partner, Kris, those are rotting food; it’s not healthy. Open your eyes.”
Kris looks surprised at the insult. He never, ever eats rotting food. “Stop acting like you know everything.”
“I don’t-“ Luhan sighs, not knowing any better way to say it. “Okay, I don’t know everything but at least I know no one cooks for you anymore. No one does the housekeeping anymore.” Before he knew it, Luhan’s tone was already creeping up. “Just to give you a pinch of the truth, I’m going to tell you that you’re living. In an empty flat. In an ordinary Seoul apartment. Where no one, no one-”
“Stop…” Kris begs, shutting his eyes and putting hands over his ears.
“No one is there to open your door or, or wash dishes with you, or anything.” Luhan sees Kris opening his eyes and thinks that this is working. Instead, he finds his pointing hand being gripped on the wrist with brute force, Kris staring at him with mad, almost feral eyes.
“I said stop, Luhan,” Kris spells, through gritted teeth, tone bleeding sharp and bitter. Luhan yelps at the tightening grip on his wrist. It was silent, Luhan trying to fight the fear over his co-worker, and Kris trying to keep down his anger.
Kris lets go of Luhan’s hand, and looks away. Luhan hurriedly unbuttons the cuff of his shirt and rubs his reddening wrist. He sighs in exasperation. Being tired of having to cope with this for over a year, he warns Kris with a mutually unpleasant note, “Deal with it, Kris. Your partner is dead.”
part two
Author: onnaonah
Pairing/Members: Kris/Suho, minor Luhan
Rating: R for eating grubs
Written for aideshou's Challenge 09.
Kris wakes up this morning to sunrays filtering through his dusty peach curtains. He feels the soft warmth on the back of his hand, and smiles as he sleepily rubs his goop-littered eyes, watching a peaceful sleeping face on the pillow beside his. Kris decides to remove his hand slowly and move his body carefully away from the bed.
He looks to the dull, peach-curtained window and chuckles. He did not have the time or money to decide the design of his flat when he first searched for one in Seoul five years ago. Everything was pricey, every place loaded with people, everything was hectic. Not even the heaviest traffic jam in his old town could match the street clog on an ordinary Seoul day.
It’s too late to make something special for breakfast now-his boss will be eager to put him in a paper shredder if he dared come late.
Kris groggily walks to the shower and rubs his face again before he opens the container behind the mirror. He sees his bottles of aspirin, some old green pills, and a slim, half-emptied bottle of a golden-toned musk perfume. He closes the container, washes his face, then takes a quick shower. He gets things done quickly, because he’s going to be even tardier if he keeps doing everything so languidly.
With a towel tucked on his hip he searches into his dresser and finds an ordinary dress shirt and pair of trousers. He goes on to button his pale-purplish shirt, wear the rest of his clothing, apply perfume, and kiss the warm blob of red hair sleeping on his bed before going to work. He decides to leave a quick chocolate sandwich with a glass of milk on the dining table, before grabbing one himself and leave.
Kris hates going around the city by any transportation means. Walking is too slow, driving is tiring, and public transportations are too packed. He enters the sidewalk and mingles with running people in various shapes-unfocused salarymen in dress shirts like him, busy ladies walking through with a phone on their cheeks, to the occasional ditching schoolgirls in their uniforms going god knows where. He runs to the staircase leading down to the subway, swipes his card, and waits impatiently, feet tapping anxiously on the tiled floor.
He finally gets his turn and squishes in. That time is the peak of the morning rush hour, so standing in the train holding onto nothing is even enough to remain balanced.
The office was already buzzing when he got there. He quickly went through the lobby, did his fingerprint scan, and rushed to his table to at least start looking occupied. He turns to the clock and sees, psst, quarter to nine, which is some seven dire hours before four. He’ll get home at six, be greeted with dinner and a kiss, and take a warm shower before going to bed.
Kris’ life is stale-it’s been a boring year of work. Flickering monitors with numbered spreadsheets, stacks of paper he doesn’t understand, and impatient glances at the hanging clock. The only reason he goes to the office is to go home, and the only reason he goes home is to come back to work.
The email reminder on the corner of his monitor says he has a meeting at ten. He glances at the clock, looks at the pile of paper at his desk, and misses Joonmyun already. Is he awake now, or is he still asleep? He must have eaten the chocolate sandwich by now, Kris muses, and dips his head as he smiles warmly.
***
Kris was burning in panic two weeks before their second Mid-birthday because he could not find a present yet. The Mid-birthday was a day he invented with Joonmyun, a midpoint between his and Joonmyun’s birthdays just so that they could have an extra date to celebrate. Their Mid-birthday happened in the summer, the perfect time to eat bowls and bowls of red bean ice and cold noodles. They had cleared their schedules for August 14th, Kris happily agreeing to Joonmyun’s proposal for the time and place.
Both Kris and Joonmyun had been busy with their life as college juniors. Last year, Joonmyun managed to go through Seouldae’s slim strip, majoring in Natural Sciences as he had dreamed ever since he started high school. He became pretty famous among his sunbaes and professors for being that smart, active junior, taking more clubs and classes than anyone would think a kid could handle. Meanwhile Kris, never a fan of school and its by-products, somehow still managed to go to University of Seoul’s Accounting, and possibly could have gone to Seouldae too, had he tried.
Kris decided that he would just buy Joonmyun a microphone pendant he saw at some cheapie streetside store in Dongdaemun on the way home. Dating for two years didn’t quite mean that they would upgrade the gifts to some more ‘maturely-priced’ ones. They’d always been a practical pair, never a fan of fine dining or couple drama. Neither Kris nor Joonmyun would mind being given imitation tidbits like those, as long as they’re meaningful.
Kris arrived at the appointed restaurant and saw Joonmyun sitting in a corner, having yet anything ordered.
“Hi,” he greeted, taking the seat across Joonmyun.
Joonmyun smiled. “Hi.”
“Have you waited for long?” Kris asked, and Joonmyun shook his head with a smile. Kris smiled back and searched inside his college bag. “Happy Mid-birthday.”
“Happy Mid-birthday,” Joonmyun replied, sliding a bigger rectangular box across the table in exchange to the small box he received. Joonmyun took the small box and examined it carefully. He gave a smug smirk, guessing, “Are you trying to propose me?”
Kris laughed. “Yes, I guess, in a small, unromantic patbingsu chain restaurant. If you want.”
Joonmyun scoffed in dismissal to the joke and rested his back. “Moron.”
It was quiet, the empty silence filling up like a balloon with the fun ambience of the restaurant, waiting for the bad joke to evaporate.
“Why don’t you open my present?” Kris opened up, gesturing to the small box he gave.
Joonmyun straightened his back and took the box. “Promise me you’ll open mine after I open this.”
Joonmyun put the box on the table and suddenly looked up to Kris with a mischievous smile. “…we haven’t ordered anything.”
Kris lit in realization. “Right!” he laughed, “Hold up, hold up, I’ll get something.”
Joonmyun watched as Kris stood from his seat and launched to order. Now that Kris was busy queuing, Joonmyun looked down to the box and was starting to grow curious. He shook the box just so maybe he could hear something shake inside, but no, he heard nothing. It might be a real ring in foam holders after all.
Kris came back with a bowl of ordinary patbingsu and a bowl of froyo bingsu. Joonmyun was mortified. Ew, froyo? The lankier the guy the weirder the tastebuds, he shivers. Kris could see the expression from his place. He placed the tray between them and laughed. “What, the froyo bingsu?”
“No, nothing,” Joonmyun shook his head slowly and took his bowl of patbingsu.
“Now open the present wouldn’t you,” Kris mentioned.
Joonmyun looked up from his bowl and looked back down to the brown little box. “What about we open our presents together? Okay? One, two, three,” he counted, and peeled open the tapes to unveil a small ringbox. Kris unwrapped a box of drinking flask. Both of them laughed.
“What, the tiny box is not what you think,” Kris defended, scooping into his froyo. “Open it.”
Joonmyun finally opened the box and pulled out a small microphone pendant attached to a necklace. Kris smiled with thick pride for Joonmyun as he said, “Congratulations on being accepted in your uni’s choir club, I know how good and picky they are.”
***
Kris comes home to a sweet “Hey,” with water draining on the sink as the backing sound. He puts his briefcase and coat on the arm of his sofa and walks towards Joonmyun, who walks towards Kris whilst wiping his wet hands on his pants. Joonmyun uses his still-moist hands to hold Kris by the face and give a welcome kiss on his tiptoes.
“Come on,“ Joonmyun pulled Kris to the dining table and made him sit down, still in his pale-purplish buttoned dress.
They sit down and have a warm conversation about this boring life, without the need to blow their food because it’s been sitting long enough. Joonmyun tells that he went to the library near the park today to get some fresh air and resume researching for his lab’s project.
To Kris, it’s amazing how long Joonmyun can stay idle and static with only a book in hand. He has never liked books, unlike Joonmyun who can stay reading all day long.
They put the dishes in the sink to wash, so Kris washes and Joonmyun sits for a while on his place at the table. Kris looks back to Joonmyun as Joonmyun looks at the makeshift living room ahead of him, Kris and the sink on his right, and stands up from his seat. He turns around to look beyond the apartment window. He looks at the garden five stories down, and at the unseen edge of the skyscraper-jagged Seoul skyline.
***
Yesterday, Kris wore lavender. Today, Kris wears pale yellow. He feels rather happy after their solemn dinner, and he believes the subconscious mind is the one picking the color of one’s clothes. He chooses to practice patience today, challenging himself not to glance at the clock on the wall or even the one at the end of his taskbar.
He was typing down a report when he was asked:
“You look green, Kris. What did you eat this time?” His coworker, Luhan, was rushing with hot, impatient paper in his hands, but Kris’ pale color was too striking a difference to not see. Luhan holds a caring hand to his forehead. “You’re warm.”
“I’m just tired.” Kris smiles, and bats the hand slowly. “And I don’t think I ate anything weird.”
Luhan sighs. “I really want to take care of your problem but I need to give this really important document right now. I’ll get back to you when I can.“
“Man, I’m okay. Don’t wo-” Kris starts gagging and Luhan knows best to just spin the lanky guy around towards the closest toilet. Kris runs, still holding the puke, and as soon as he disappears, Luhan runs to the appointment he’s scheduled in.
Kris bursts into the restroom and rushes to the closest stall. He locks it hastily and immediately emptied his burning stomach down the bowl. Yes he has been slightly dizzy from the time he woke up, but he doesn’t think anything from last night’s innocent supper would harm him.
He pukes again and he hates how it feels, his stomach pressing way over the edge, the taste too sour at the back of his throat. When he knows he’s done, he tries to regulate his panting breath, and closes the lid before flushing the toilet.
Kris walks out of the stall to luckily see no one in the bathroom. He opens the washbasin tap and takes some water to cleanse his mouth with.
He walks pretty calmly out of the restroom, feeling much better and generally okay already. He makes a mental note to go to the convenience store and get some OTC pills on the way home. He sits down and sighs heavily before resuming typing the report.
The day runs very, very slowly and it’s only lunch break when Kris decided to quit his own mission of not peeking at the time. Luhan only gets to him at two, telling that he should stop leading whatever lifestyle he’s currently having.
“Like, I’m okay, Lu, I just have stomach problems every now and then. You know me,” Kris retorts when he gets scolded by his closest coworker. Luhan is sitting down across him on a chair he dragged nearby.
“Yes, I do know you and how to stop your stomach problems.”
“And how is that…?”
Luhan stands up and sighs with an exhausted smile. He puts the chair he took back to its respective desk, saying, “You never paid attention.”
***
“Sing for me.”
“What?!” Joonmyun jumps in surprise. They were sitting on the grass with some other people at one of the parks in Joonmyun’s uni. It was pretty crowded that day, being the celebratory last day of exams to a few majors-except Natural Sciences. Meanwhile Kris was just going to have his exams next week. His university wasn’t the earliest in holding exams, and majoring in Liberal Arts, he had the excuse of doing some social research to be a lurking guest here in Seouldae. Being in different schools and majors, both Kris and Joonmyun knew that studying together pretty much meant no studying at all, but they did it quite often nonetheless.
“You said you were a part of one of the nation’s best student choir. Prove it, I want to hear a nationally-qualified voice,” Kris closed his book.
“I sing every day and you never heard? I pity you,” Joonmyun stuck his tongue, and moved back to act like he needed some space. “I need to study.”
“Fine.” Kris sighed, and dug on a random page in his book. He pretended reading until he pretty much couldn’t stand it anymore, and opened another topic. “Did you know that my roommate’s going to graduate this summer?”
With his nose still in the book, Joonmyun mumbled, “And…?”
“And I guess you’ve told me a few times about wanting to taste dorm life.”
Joonmyun looked up from his textbook and looked into Kris for a while. “But it’s your uni’s dorm.”
Kris laughed a smile. “No it's not, it just happens to be packed with people from UOS.”
“Oh. Okay…” Joonmyun nodded slowly, as if absorbing the information needed time. “I’ll ask my mom about it.”
Spending the whole summer vacation persuading his parents finally earned Joonmyun the permit to live away from home. He moved in not long after Kris’ old roommate moved out. When Joonmyun’s mom came with him just to see the flat her son was going to live in, he introduced Kris to her as his, well, roommate. Not too much for a lie to your mom.
“Okay, take care, Dear,” Mrs. Kim put her beloved son into a tight, perfumed embrace. Joonmyun rolled his eyes to Kris behind his mom’s back. Kris-ssi stifled a laugh. Joonmyun went out to take his mom to the car, waved goodbye, and went back to the apartment.
When Joonmyun closed the door, Kris was checking the fridge.
“So,” Joonmyun sighed, closing the door, “we’re… roommates.”
“Yeah,” Kris replied, and closed the refrigerator door. “We’re roommates,” he said, three steps before Joonmyun. He smiled.
“Good,” Joonmyun said, dropping himself on the old couch. He absentmindedly turned on the TV.
“Ya,” Kris protested.
“What?” Joonmyun asked.
“I thought you were trying to imply or demonstrate something from the statement ‘we are roommates’.”
Joonmyun only laughed and shot a cushion towards Kris, and resumed watching TV.
“I was serious, though.” Kris retorted.
"After my midterms.”
“Ugh, why,” he returned to the fridge to get himself a glass of milk.
"Oh Kris you know what?" Joonmyun asked as if he had just remembered something.
"What?"
"My choir's going to represent Korea in an international competition in Spain."
Kris' eyes popped open in surprise as he drunk up the milk. He swallowed. "Whoa, congratulations! When is that?"
"January 25th, three, four months from now," Joonmyun smiled with pride.
"Varsity basketball teams can never go on such a big scale," Kris said, and sat beside Joonmyun. "No wonder you've been so busy the past week."
"No, that one was for a team research," Joonmyun corrected and laughed. "I'm starting practice next Monday on, all the way through till the D-Day."
Speaking of D-Day, they both had first met on Sooneung, almost two years ago, at one school they'd never even knew existed. Both had come two hours earlier, Joonmyun already sitting like a stray kid in the hallway beside a set of lockers. He looked approachable and as confused as he was, so Kris said, "Hi," and sat beside Joonmyun. The silent boy politely smiled and gave space. "I'm Kris. What's your name?"
"Kim Joonmyun,” the boy nods slightly. “Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you," Kris parrots, then sighs facing elsewhere.
Being an awkward person, the boy felt alright leaving the bleak introduction ending dead and silent like that. He only responded when asked, asking back just to make it polite. After some small talk, Kris found out that they went to the same test room.
It was only on lunch break that Joonmyun would open up, the difficulty of the test making him babble in protest all the way. Kris only laughed and nodded, keeping to himself that the numbers he left blank were almost double that of Joonmyun's.
They ate their bentos while opening books and worksheets from their respective cramschools, Kris asking Joonmyun generally anything he couldn't understand.
"Did you make that yourself?" Kris asked when Joonmyun first opened his lunchbox. It looked like something made with so much care for a boy's bento.
"My mom made it for me," he smiled, and took a cramschool worksheet, "And you?"
"Made it myself," Kris smiled back. "No one makes my lunchbox."
"I see," Joonmyun nodded, tongue bitter with the regret of asking that question.
They ate and studied afterwards, the bell for the next test always a minute too cruel. They packed their bags and lined up to enter the room, Kris saying, "Good luck," as he dug for a pencil before students scatter to their own desks.
Four draining hours later, most participants came out of the exam room with a sigh. That would be over six hundred collective sighs from this building only, of either relief, dread, or fatigue.
Kris packed his bag slightly longer just to wait for Joonmyun, whose bag was deliberately put beside his. "Let's go," Joonmyun said and stood and walked alongside him out the classroom.
"Why don't you tell me later if you get accepted into your university of choice?" Kris offered on the way to the subway and bus stop. He was a maestro on smooth advances.
"Good deal. How?"
"Like, text?" They arrived at the bus stop and stopped walking.
"Oh, alright, cool," he took out his phone and waited for a number to write.
"You mention your number, I'll send you mine,” Kris looked up from his screen.
"Oh. Alright," Joonmyun shrugged, and started saying his string of numbers. As soon as it was typed down, he felt his phone vibrate for a short while.
"All set," Kris said, right on time with the arrival of the bus. He pointed to it. "Your bus."
Joonmyun nodded and gave a slight nod for goodbye. "Good luck. See you," and left for the bus along with other students in suits.
Kris turned around and continued his way home, nine stations and two lines away.
***
Kris opens the door to his putrid, stinking apartment, and closes the door before taking off his leather shoes and black socks. Today, he wears yellow.
"I'm home," he sings, happy that he will finally meet his dear.
He steps up the wooden platform and stands in front of the TV for a few seconds, smiling and closing his eyes in bliss, then goes to open the fridge to see a half-dried loaf of bread, a bottle of milk, eggs, and the mushy remnants of bibimbap in a bowl.
"I threw up today at the office," he told, still trying to find food. He picked the bibimbap as today's dinner and popped it in the microwave to heat, the dish already a week old. "I wonder why."
He closed the microwave door and turned around leaning on the counter, staring sweetly at the wall behind the dining table chair.
The microwave dinged. "Oh," Kris mutters, and he turns around to grab the dish and put it in two bowls. He puts one bowl in front of him, and the other bowl across him.
"I'm digging in," he says, and starts eating the bibimbap.
When he takes the first spoonful, he notices something different in the smell. "Is this... onion? Or did you put more kimchi?"
The bowl across him did not even clank.
Kris shrugs and eats his first spoonful of the sticky, deteriorating bibimbap. He gags, but tries to convince himself that it's okay. He looks up and smiles to the empty seat ahead of him, with sour food still in his mouth, and tries swallowing.
He looks up again to that seat, and smiles while he takes another bite, the rice making mushy, wet, noises as he slowly chews.
He did not see the skinny, white maggots in his bowl.
He looks to his bowl and calculates that he still has five spoonfuls to go. He looks up to the seat across him and pays attention, nodding sometimes. He takes another bite.
When he was done, he takes his bowl and puts his hand on the other bowl for a second, looks to the seat for a moment before he sighs and takes the still full bowl of rotting bibimbap to the sink. He opens the tap, starts washing the dishes, and wonders why Joonmyun never finishes his meal for the past two years.
Kris doesn’t feel anything, only feels that his mouth feels slightly tangy and weird. He takes his comfortable clothes from the dresser, takes his towel, and locks the bathroom door. He goes to the washbasin and checks himself on the mirror. He sees eyebags and very slight stubbles and decides that he’ll just fix them tomorrow morning. Kris brushes his teeth.
Today, he steps into the bathtub, turns the shower on, and washes his hair. He showers very languidly, taking all the time he needs. Kris assumes that Joonmyun must be either watching TV or studying right now. When he was done, he steps over the side of the bathtub and dries his feet on the mat.
Kris exits the bathroom, steps on the mat again, and entered his bedroom. He sees the dull, peach-colored closed curtains near his bed and fits himself onto his gray-sheeted bed before inhaling deeply. With eyes closed he reaches his hand to the bottom right corner of the neighboring pillow, and opens his eyes softly to see the empty, white wall.
***
The next day, Kris wears mint green. He does not want to mess up any further at work, so there he is, sitting nicely on his desk at seven forty five. Just when he was about to copy some papers, his stomach starts kicking in, and he rushes to the restroom again. Luhan has just entered the working space when he has to witness another run. He immediately put his belongings on his desk and followed Kris with quick steps to the restroom.
The sound of a person puking echoes from the only locked stall. Luhan sighs, and knocks the door.
“Kris?”
The man inside still sounds busy.
He leans his head to the stall door and knocks again. “Kris, are you alright?”
Luhan hears the sound of toilet flushing and steps back to give room for Kris. The lanky man steps out of the stall with an almost-dead look. Kris walks to the sink.
“You should really stop,” Luhan lectures, leaning to the tiled wall near the basin.
Kris was originally holding the tap but then he moved his hands to the edges of the sink trying to hold on. Luhan moves from his place and starts rubbing the back of his friend’s neck, afraid that the guy would heave again.
Kris weakly brushes off the help.
“I’m good,” he said to the sink, panting. He opens the tap and gurgles, and Luhan watches in pity as all of this happens, again. Kris stands up as soon as he was done.
“You would want to go downstairs and get some aid,” Luhan offers.
Kris meekly laughs and nods. Luhan kindly pushes the restroom door open for them, although he is older and has worked longer.
When they get out of the working space, Luhan opens up the conversation. “What did he make for you?”
“Didn’t make anything,” Kris answers, “I took some leftovers from the fridge, and it was slightly sour. I thought it was the kimchi. Joonmyun likes kimchi. We talked about the day yesterday.”
“What was about the day?” Luhan asks, playing along. He is the only person in the office capable of interacting with Kris outside business matters-no other coworker even bothers understanding him.
“Nothing much.” Kris looks up to the elevator number and is disappointed to see that one lift is still on the ground floor, the other on the 26th. “He said that he read a haiku book yesterday. He likes books.”
Luhan sighs at the last sentence and just wants to pat Kris on the back, but he thinks it’s a weird gesture. He looks down to his leather shoes, not sure how to start without offending Kris, “You should stop referring to your partner with present tense, Kris. A-and also stop thinking that your partner still cooks for you, too. You should-“
“Why? He still does.” Kris shrugs. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I mean-“ Luhan rubs the bridge of his nose. “You’ve been eating bad leftovers, drinking spoiled milk, without you even thinking so. Those aren’t food from your partner, Kris, those are rotting food; it’s not healthy. Open your eyes.”
Kris looks surprised at the insult. He never, ever eats rotting food. “Stop acting like you know everything.”
“I don’t-“ Luhan sighs, not knowing any better way to say it. “Okay, I don’t know everything but at least I know no one cooks for you anymore. No one does the housekeeping anymore.” Before he knew it, Luhan’s tone was already creeping up. “Just to give you a pinch of the truth, I’m going to tell you that you’re living. In an empty flat. In an ordinary Seoul apartment. Where no one, no one-”
“Stop…” Kris begs, shutting his eyes and putting hands over his ears.
“No one is there to open your door or, or wash dishes with you, or anything.” Luhan sees Kris opening his eyes and thinks that this is working. Instead, he finds his pointing hand being gripped on the wrist with brute force, Kris staring at him with mad, almost feral eyes.
“I said stop, Luhan,” Kris spells, through gritted teeth, tone bleeding sharp and bitter. Luhan yelps at the tightening grip on his wrist. It was silent, Luhan trying to fight the fear over his co-worker, and Kris trying to keep down his anger.
Kris lets go of Luhan’s hand, and looks away. Luhan hurriedly unbuttons the cuff of his shirt and rubs his reddening wrist. He sighs in exasperation. Being tired of having to cope with this for over a year, he warns Kris with a mutually unpleasant note, “Deal with it, Kris. Your partner is dead.”
part two