[24] fruit from the tree of knowledge | PG | qmi, hanchul
help_japan fics for doumyoujitsukas and liederkreis are underway. in the meantime, there is this.
fruit from the tree of knowledge
zhou mi/kyuhyun, han geng/heechul, donghae | pg | 2115w
perhaps love is like this, sweeter before you know it.
he pushes you into the bed with a huff of laughter, then crawls in beside you, stretching out with his head next to yours on the pillow. you both lie there and stare the ceiling, the room quiet aside from your breathing. the world outside is muffled through the closed window and door; it's like you're in a pocket of time, still, as the rest of the world rushes past. you wait.
it comes after another minute. "hyung," he says. it's quiet, the way he gets when he's been thinking too much.
"what?"
"what do you think of love?"
you wait again. that's not the question he's asking. he knows what you think of love and relationships. he's borne the brunt of your tirades over the years. sure enough, he speaks again, still regarding the ceiling as his words come out halting.
"what do you think of love...between two guys...?"
"donghae," you say, because you are you, "are you in love with someone?"
he chuckles and the bed shakes with him. it shifts again under you as he turns onto his side, facing you, one arm tucked under the pillow. you turn your head lazily and regard him under your lashes. there's still a trace of laughter on his face in the upturned corners of his mouth, but his eyes are dark and thoughtful. "no, i'm not in love with anyone," he says.
"except me."
you arch your brows at him but he doesn't even blink at your airy interjection. he's gotten too used to you. "do you..." he trails off, then starts again. "have you seen kyuhyun lately? the way he looks at zhou mi?"
you pause as images flicker through your mind. "how does he look at zhou mi?"
donghae muses. "well. a lot. more than he needs to."
"how much does he need to? is there a quota?" you snort.
"yah, hyung! you know what i mean."
you push him away from you out of instinct. you hate sharing beds with people for a reason - they just get all over your space. he flops back on his side of the bed, unoffended, and you settle more comfortably into the mattress, still turned towards the ceiling. you think about donghae's words and what they mean. you think about his question.
you're not someone who has all the answers, despite what he thinks. you remember having someone by your side that you looked at all the time - probably more than you needed to - and the kinds of things you said (and didn't say, in the end). you probably have more questions than answers. "what do you think of love? between two guys?" you ask him. a part of you wonders if he ever looked at you the way he looks at kyuhyun, considering. unsure.
donghae sighs and moves his head across the pillow until it's resting against your shoulder. his hair tickles through the thin material of your shirt. "i don't know," he admits.
silently, the two of you lie there as time flows around you. kyuhyun, you think. seasoning.
*
you notice them more after that conversation with donghae. you pay more attention. you look and you see.
you see that donghae's right: kyuhyun looks at zhou mi a lot. more, in fact, than he needs to. zhou mi returns the favor not only with looks but with light touches - sometimes with his hand, light on kyuhyun's hip or the small of his back, sometimes only a press of his shoulder or arm, a glance of their foreheads as zhou mi leans in to say something. every touch is casual. every touch seems so natural. and each one is almost entirely unnecessary.
though, perhaps, you realize, it depends on how you define "necessary".
what is necessary to one person is not the same as what's necessary to another. what is necessary to a person in love, perhaps, seems unnecessary to an onlooker.
a smile hooks on your mouth.
"what terrible things are you thinking about?" leeteuk asks, only half-joking. his eyes are tired. "please don't do them."
you roll your eyes and knock hard against his shoulder as you pass. he always thinks the worst of you.
you catch zhou mi belowstage before his solo and, careful of his freshly-styled hair, wrap your hand around the back of his neck and pull him down for a loud kiss on the cheek. truthfully, your lips graze more air than skin because you know how much powder has just been applied to his face, but he flushes happily under your attention all the same. "good luck!" you tell him with a pat to his ass.
"thanks, hyung!" he beams at you and disappears through the corridors, moving into position.
beside you, cho kyuhyun watches him go, then turns to feign disinterest. you watch him find the video screen with the concert feed from the arena, arms crossing as he waits for the lights to flash and the music to change.
you've seen zhou mi's solo before. this time you watch kyuhyun instead.
you see what you realize you've been seeing all along. the look in kyuhyun's eyes is not soft as he regards the screen, zhou mi a tiny dancing figure; the look is sharp and dark, closer to an aggressive sort of pride than to fondness. an immense, if unspoken, satisfaction. a tiny bit of amusement too, lips curling at the flailing limbs.
you recognize that expression.
when you pass him on the way to change your outfit, you shove his shoulder. he breaks his stare, startled, and sends you a questioning look. you only cock a brow and continue past him, wordless. you have nothing to say. you just can't bear that expression anymore. it creeps under your skin and unsettles you, leaving an ashy dry taste in your mouth.
you've seen it before in the mirror.
*
he used to get this expression on his face, a furrow between his brows and a quirk on his lips. it was as if he didn't know whether to be puzzled or amused and settled halfway between the two. you hated that expression the most, the one that said he didn't know what to make of you, that said you bewildered him.
you understand me, don't you? you always wanted to ask but you never did. you were afraid of his answer, in the end.
you knew him so well, you thought. you still do. you hate him for leaving you, but you understand. you wonder if he knows that you do, or if he thinks you still hold a grudge.
you know he loved you (loves you, you correct mentally), but it isn't until he left that you realized you loved him too. and, worse, that you needed him.
knowing him so well means nothing when you don't seem to know yourself.
*
in the middle of another interview, kyuhyun says haltingly, "my ideal girl would take care of people."
"i thought your ideal girl had long legs," zhou mi teases, twisted around in his chair to grin back up at him.
donghae looks at them and you look at him, a small figure on your small screen, a litany of thoughts in his eyes. he's easy to read, even when he's farther away than you can reach. you press your fingertips against your iphone. what do you think of love? he asked you. between two guys?
your fingers trail from donghae to zhou mi, smiling so bright. he's turned back to face the camera, and dark eyes follow him. lingering longer than they need to. you shake your head and settle back into your chair.
"your ideal girl?" you mutter to yourself with a scoff. kyuhyun. kyuhyun, you must know yourself better than that.
*
"i had this ideal of love," donghae says, curling on his side. his voice is quiet as he looks at you, his hair rumpled against the pillow. he looks like a child.
"i thought it would be like in the dramas, where you can't help falling in love and you make it work no matter what happens. and there are these romantic confession scenes and symbolic gestures and gifts and smiles and kisses."
you make a sound in your throat, involuntary disgust. he only laughs a little.
"i know, hyung. i know you think that stuff is all pointless, but i wanted it. i wanted that kind of romance, where you get lost in your feelings and she's the only thing you can think about all day." he's quiet for a moment. "it was always a girl. i could never imagine doing something like that with a guy. what guy will let you hold his hand in public, or let you buy him jewelry, or let you brush his hair out of his eyes and put your arm around him while you walk?"
"there are a lot of girls that wouldn't let you either," you point out. you think about amber or even tiffany and all her modern western ideals she likes to argue with you about, eyes flashing. you don't think you could stand a quiet, submissive girl. you don't know that you could stand anyone quiet and submissive. they make your skin crawl uncomfortably.
donghae shifts beside you. "i know. and that's fine. i've just... i've always had this fantasy. this ideal. that this is how the perfect relationship would be."
you still can't bring yourself to push him, not when he's serious like this. he knows you've never agreed with his idea of love, of relationships. at the same time, you could never tell him to change his mind; a part of you always hoped it would be different for him. real. possible. if you couldn't ever reach your ideal, maybe he could reach his.
but right now he's saying, quiet, "i think i was wrong, hyung."
you flick your eyes to him, concerned.
he doesn't say anything more.
after a long minute passes and he only breathes and contemplates the ceiling like it holds the answer to life, you lose your patience. "is this because of seasoning and kyuhyun?"
he still doesn't look at you when he says, finally, "it's because of you, too."
*
you didn't think he knew. how could he, when even you didn't know?
i miss you doesn't even begin to describe the vast stretch of emptiness that aches inside you.
when you finally spoke to him again, after weeks that felt like endless years, he said simply, "i know."
*
you pull zhou mi aside when he's back in seoul. you want to yell at him. you want to demand if he knows how he feels, if he knows how kyuhyun feels, if kyuhyun knows how he feels. you want to intervene, fix things until they work, until they don't cycle back to your turn in life, where knowing came too late.
you open your mouth but his eyes, bright and curious, on you make you stall. you spit something out about lunch. he brightens and agrees and makes a production of sneaking the two of you to dongdaemun. of course he wants to go shopping too. you keep your mouth shut. instead, you watch him closely under the low brim of your cap, as if you can tell what he knows from the way he drinks his tea or snaps his chopsticks at his food.
you let him take photographs with you, posing beside him with a smirk. then you lean your head against his knobby shoulder as you steal his phone and flip through previous pictures.
you don't have to count to know that kyuhyun is one of the more frequent guest appearances. you pause on a photo. "yah, not bad. kyuhyun looks about six years old in this, though."
zhou mi looks over your shoulder and laughs. he explains the context. his eyes shine.
you half-listen as you look at him.
surely he must know.
*
but maybe it doesn't matter whether or not he does. maybe all that matters is that they are together now, laughing and happy, looking at each other more than they need to. maybe what matters is that donghae can change his mind and zhou mi can smile at the pictures on his phone and kyuhyun can look at zhou mi with a razor edge of possessiveness.
you spin alone in your bed, tangling your sheets around you and thumping your hand against the pillow in dissatisfaction. super junior m is back in taiwan and you're still in seoul. he's...
maybe it doesn't matter that he left you, because you loved him for years and still do.
fruit from the tree of knowledge
zhou mi/kyuhyun, han geng/heechul, donghae | pg | 2115w
perhaps love is like this, sweeter before you know it.
he pushes you into the bed with a huff of laughter, then crawls in beside you, stretching out with his head next to yours on the pillow. you both lie there and stare the ceiling, the room quiet aside from your breathing. the world outside is muffled through the closed window and door; it's like you're in a pocket of time, still, as the rest of the world rushes past. you wait.
it comes after another minute. "hyung," he says. it's quiet, the way he gets when he's been thinking too much.
"what?"
"what do you think of love?"
you wait again. that's not the question he's asking. he knows what you think of love and relationships. he's borne the brunt of your tirades over the years. sure enough, he speaks again, still regarding the ceiling as his words come out halting.
"what do you think of love...between two guys...?"
"donghae," you say, because you are you, "are you in love with someone?"
he chuckles and the bed shakes with him. it shifts again under you as he turns onto his side, facing you, one arm tucked under the pillow. you turn your head lazily and regard him under your lashes. there's still a trace of laughter on his face in the upturned corners of his mouth, but his eyes are dark and thoughtful. "no, i'm not in love with anyone," he says.
"except me."
you arch your brows at him but he doesn't even blink at your airy interjection. he's gotten too used to you. "do you..." he trails off, then starts again. "have you seen kyuhyun lately? the way he looks at zhou mi?"
you pause as images flicker through your mind. "how does he look at zhou mi?"
donghae muses. "well. a lot. more than he needs to."
"how much does he need to? is there a quota?" you snort.
"yah, hyung! you know what i mean."
you push him away from you out of instinct. you hate sharing beds with people for a reason - they just get all over your space. he flops back on his side of the bed, unoffended, and you settle more comfortably into the mattress, still turned towards the ceiling. you think about donghae's words and what they mean. you think about his question.
you're not someone who has all the answers, despite what he thinks. you remember having someone by your side that you looked at all the time - probably more than you needed to - and the kinds of things you said (and didn't say, in the end). you probably have more questions than answers. "what do you think of love? between two guys?" you ask him. a part of you wonders if he ever looked at you the way he looks at kyuhyun, considering. unsure.
donghae sighs and moves his head across the pillow until it's resting against your shoulder. his hair tickles through the thin material of your shirt. "i don't know," he admits.
silently, the two of you lie there as time flows around you. kyuhyun, you think. seasoning.
*
you notice them more after that conversation with donghae. you pay more attention. you look and you see.
you see that donghae's right: kyuhyun looks at zhou mi a lot. more, in fact, than he needs to. zhou mi returns the favor not only with looks but with light touches - sometimes with his hand, light on kyuhyun's hip or the small of his back, sometimes only a press of his shoulder or arm, a glance of their foreheads as zhou mi leans in to say something. every touch is casual. every touch seems so natural. and each one is almost entirely unnecessary.
though, perhaps, you realize, it depends on how you define "necessary".
what is necessary to one person is not the same as what's necessary to another. what is necessary to a person in love, perhaps, seems unnecessary to an onlooker.
a smile hooks on your mouth.
"what terrible things are you thinking about?" leeteuk asks, only half-joking. his eyes are tired. "please don't do them."
you roll your eyes and knock hard against his shoulder as you pass. he always thinks the worst of you.
you catch zhou mi belowstage before his solo and, careful of his freshly-styled hair, wrap your hand around the back of his neck and pull him down for a loud kiss on the cheek. truthfully, your lips graze more air than skin because you know how much powder has just been applied to his face, but he flushes happily under your attention all the same. "good luck!" you tell him with a pat to his ass.
"thanks, hyung!" he beams at you and disappears through the corridors, moving into position.
beside you, cho kyuhyun watches him go, then turns to feign disinterest. you watch him find the video screen with the concert feed from the arena, arms crossing as he waits for the lights to flash and the music to change.
you've seen zhou mi's solo before. this time you watch kyuhyun instead.
you see what you realize you've been seeing all along. the look in kyuhyun's eyes is not soft as he regards the screen, zhou mi a tiny dancing figure; the look is sharp and dark, closer to an aggressive sort of pride than to fondness. an immense, if unspoken, satisfaction. a tiny bit of amusement too, lips curling at the flailing limbs.
you recognize that expression.
when you pass him on the way to change your outfit, you shove his shoulder. he breaks his stare, startled, and sends you a questioning look. you only cock a brow and continue past him, wordless. you have nothing to say. you just can't bear that expression anymore. it creeps under your skin and unsettles you, leaving an ashy dry taste in your mouth.
you've seen it before in the mirror.
*
he used to get this expression on his face, a furrow between his brows and a quirk on his lips. it was as if he didn't know whether to be puzzled or amused and settled halfway between the two. you hated that expression the most, the one that said he didn't know what to make of you, that said you bewildered him.
you understand me, don't you? you always wanted to ask but you never did. you were afraid of his answer, in the end.
you knew him so well, you thought. you still do. you hate him for leaving you, but you understand. you wonder if he knows that you do, or if he thinks you still hold a grudge.
you know he loved you (loves you, you correct mentally), but it isn't until he left that you realized you loved him too. and, worse, that you needed him.
knowing him so well means nothing when you don't seem to know yourself.
*
in the middle of another interview, kyuhyun says haltingly, "my ideal girl would take care of people."
"i thought your ideal girl had long legs," zhou mi teases, twisted around in his chair to grin back up at him.
donghae looks at them and you look at him, a small figure on your small screen, a litany of thoughts in his eyes. he's easy to read, even when he's farther away than you can reach. you press your fingertips against your iphone. what do you think of love? he asked you. between two guys?
your fingers trail from donghae to zhou mi, smiling so bright. he's turned back to face the camera, and dark eyes follow him. lingering longer than they need to. you shake your head and settle back into your chair.
"your ideal girl?" you mutter to yourself with a scoff. kyuhyun. kyuhyun, you must know yourself better than that.
*
"i had this ideal of love," donghae says, curling on his side. his voice is quiet as he looks at you, his hair rumpled against the pillow. he looks like a child.
"i thought it would be like in the dramas, where you can't help falling in love and you make it work no matter what happens. and there are these romantic confession scenes and symbolic gestures and gifts and smiles and kisses."
you make a sound in your throat, involuntary disgust. he only laughs a little.
"i know, hyung. i know you think that stuff is all pointless, but i wanted it. i wanted that kind of romance, where you get lost in your feelings and she's the only thing you can think about all day." he's quiet for a moment. "it was always a girl. i could never imagine doing something like that with a guy. what guy will let you hold his hand in public, or let you buy him jewelry, or let you brush his hair out of his eyes and put your arm around him while you walk?"
"there are a lot of girls that wouldn't let you either," you point out. you think about amber or even tiffany and all her modern western ideals she likes to argue with you about, eyes flashing. you don't think you could stand a quiet, submissive girl. you don't know that you could stand anyone quiet and submissive. they make your skin crawl uncomfortably.
donghae shifts beside you. "i know. and that's fine. i've just... i've always had this fantasy. this ideal. that this is how the perfect relationship would be."
you still can't bring yourself to push him, not when he's serious like this. he knows you've never agreed with his idea of love, of relationships. at the same time, you could never tell him to change his mind; a part of you always hoped it would be different for him. real. possible. if you couldn't ever reach your ideal, maybe he could reach his.
but right now he's saying, quiet, "i think i was wrong, hyung."
you flick your eyes to him, concerned.
he doesn't say anything more.
after a long minute passes and he only breathes and contemplates the ceiling like it holds the answer to life, you lose your patience. "is this because of seasoning and kyuhyun?"
he still doesn't look at you when he says, finally, "it's because of you, too."
*
you didn't think he knew. how could he, when even you didn't know?
i miss you doesn't even begin to describe the vast stretch of emptiness that aches inside you.
when you finally spoke to him again, after weeks that felt like endless years, he said simply, "i know."
*
you pull zhou mi aside when he's back in seoul. you want to yell at him. you want to demand if he knows how he feels, if he knows how kyuhyun feels, if kyuhyun knows how he feels. you want to intervene, fix things until they work, until they don't cycle back to your turn in life, where knowing came too late.
you open your mouth but his eyes, bright and curious, on you make you stall. you spit something out about lunch. he brightens and agrees and makes a production of sneaking the two of you to dongdaemun. of course he wants to go shopping too. you keep your mouth shut. instead, you watch him closely under the low brim of your cap, as if you can tell what he knows from the way he drinks his tea or snaps his chopsticks at his food.
you let him take photographs with you, posing beside him with a smirk. then you lean your head against his knobby shoulder as you steal his phone and flip through previous pictures.
you don't have to count to know that kyuhyun is one of the more frequent guest appearances. you pause on a photo. "yah, not bad. kyuhyun looks about six years old in this, though."
zhou mi looks over your shoulder and laughs. he explains the context. his eyes shine.
you half-listen as you look at him.
surely he must know.
*
but maybe it doesn't matter whether or not he does. maybe all that matters is that they are together now, laughing and happy, looking at each other more than they need to. maybe what matters is that donghae can change his mind and zhou mi can smile at the pictures on his phone and kyuhyun can look at zhou mi with a razor edge of possessiveness.
you spin alone in your bed, tangling your sheets around you and thumping your hand against the pillow in dissatisfaction. super junior m is back in taiwan and you're still in seoul. he's...
maybe it doesn't matter that he left you, because you loved him for years and still do.