You can be the neon pink uniform to my ‘Love Me’ section
You can be the neon pink uniform to my ‘Love Me’ section
Sungmin/Donghae, Skip Beat references, PG, nonsensical fluff, 1,709 words
~Sungmin finds himself back to awkward relations with Donghae when they come back from Taiwan promotions. Donghae tries to rectify that in his own peculiar way. Also, a lesson in writing using the past tense- I admit, I need serious help here.
On the day that episode four of Extravagant Challenge aired, Sungmin found himself ambushed by Donghae at the entrance of their twelfth floor dorm. It was going so well after all, Sungmin reflected as Donghae grinned up at him and broke into abrupt loud laughter at Sungmin’s face of utter shock.
To get to the front door, Sungmin had army-crawled past the barricade problem by the name of Kim Ryeowook, who had set up base camp in front of the wide-screen in the living room: beer, almonds, a giraffe plushie, and an electronic dictionary. He had also sneaked past Eunhyuk and Zhoumi by pretending to grab more drinks from the refrigerator. The stuttering groan of the front door when he teased it open was also thankfully muffled by Ryeowook’s shouts of “Yah be quiet, it’s starting!” which was followed by two loud smacks and Ryeowook’s apologetic giggle.
Sungmin’s brain sank into a dull throbbing haze of annoyance. It was undeserved really, that he went through all that trouble just to be thwarted at the last second. Donghae was still laughing at him, which made him feel all the more infuriated. Since when did Donghae read his thoughts that well anyway? He wasn't feeling that patriotic to his members at this exact moment, and monitoring another’s performance could be done perfectly by Ryeowook after all.
A sudden ray of hope shone; maybe Donghae wasn’t waiting for him after all, maybe, as with Donghae and his strange little mind, he could be targeting another member and Sungmin just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Sungmin moved aside from the gap in the door. “Hyukjae’s inside. Remember to lock the door behind you.”
But then Donghae impatiently shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and did not dare to hold Sungmin’s gaze. Silence followed, and when it reached the threshold of awkwardness, Sungmin simply sighed and pushed Donghae’s shoulder with a sock-clad foot, and moved to lock the door quietly behind him.
The elevator ride was ridden in silence; Sungmin adamantly stared at the digital screen as the lift counted the floors down, but he could still feel Donghae’s muttering breath on the back of his neck, a warm stream of tickling reassurance of another person’s presence.
~
It was the burst of night air when they pushed open the glass doors that compelled Donghae to speak.
“It’s cold!” He shouted, sound carried in wisps by the wind. Sungmin glanced at him, a windbreaker and a hoodie, and raised an eyebrow.
“But I’ll be fine!” Donghae shouted back, noticing Sungmin’s concern. “So where are we going?”
There was no ‘we’ to begin with, no place in mind that he had, just away from the dorms, by himself, alone. But as he looked at Donghae’s expectant face, Sungmin could already feel the developing tiredness if he tried to explain this concept to him.
Instead, Sungmin found himself nodding vaguely towards the food streets on the East.
Donghae grin widened at the direction Sungmin pointed out. “Can we have kimbap?” A question in his voice and if he listened carefully, there was a lisp of tease sprinkled over his words.
If what Donghae was trying to accomplish was what Sungmin thought he was, then unfortunately it was working. The wave of déjà vu crashed hard on Sungmin’s chest. He cringed, noting the open look on Donghae’s face, trying to force the story to write out the way he wanted it to be. Sungmin was long past that phase, now he was a realist.
It wouldn’t work after all, the same food, the same person sharing that food, the same time at this late hour of the night, but in a totally different city, this one familiar with bright lights that he can pinpoint to buildings he can name, as apposed to the other one, three months back, where the only building he could name was the 101, and that, he wasn't even sure. Some things were better left where they were.
He stared at Donghae, a look that said ‘I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work.’
“What are you-“ But Donghae had already walked ahead, drawn like a baby elephant to a waterhole; in this case, street food.
~
They ended up at a park. Sungmin wanted to laugh hysterically at the absurdity of it all, but he somehow managed to resist. He watched Donghae break the kimbap into half, as their feet swung idly where they sat atop the jungle gym.
The air was quiet besides Donghae’s enthusiastic chewing of the kimbap, and with overwhelming silence, Sungmin allowed thoughts to fill up the wordless lull in their surroundings. He remembered the last time he played on a jungle gym as a kid, as he dangled upside down with knees swung over metal bars, feeling so free and yet so secured.
As he glanced over to the slides, bits of Ryeowook’s first kiss story came floating back in his mind. ‘It’ll be kind of funny though’, Sungmin thought, ‘if I say to Donghae, don’t expect me to kiss you on the jungle gym.’ He imagined Donghae’s shocked face, a shove perhaps, and a half-eaten kimbap dropped onto the sand below.
But oddly enough, Sungmin could not imagine whether Donghae’s response after that. For a moment, Sungmin was truly tempted to try it out, just to see what it could be.
“Kimbap’s nice.”
Sungmin blinked and re-focused on Donghae in front of him, no kimbap on the sand yet, he noted. Perhaps, it was better, to not know the definite answer. This way, Sungmin could imagine it any way he wanted it to be, thousands of scenarios, hundreds of expressions, tens of words exchanged, but only two ways it could end, and the one way he hoped it could be.
~
Donghae showed him a picture Siwon sent him.
“It’s in the episode today.” Donghae mumbled through his kimbap.
It was a camel. Or more specifically, it was made to look like a camel. It, in fact, consisted of two sweaty male staff members, and a whole lot of brown ceramic and wood and cloth, and a very realistic paintjob. Siwon and the female actress were posing happily against it. The captions wrote: A camel in a park! Shock!
Sungmin frowned. So much for thinking that Korean idol dramas were unrealistic; Taiwan dramas took the cake. Still, “They couldn’t get a real camel?”
Donghae shook his head, causing his fringe to fall over his eyes, softening his features momentarily. “It was cheaper this way.”
“I must be missing loads from tonight’s episode.” Sungmin mused, though not at all feeling apologetic. He liked the main actress, Yihan, was it? She reminded him of a miniature Soo Young, with the absolute perfection in ugly faces and a supposed idol reputation that was degrading towards nonexistence.
“You are.” Donghae echoed, but then continued cheerfully, “but at least you saw my chicken scene.”
Sungmin quirked an eyebrow. To his knowledge, Donghae wasn’t even the chicken, it was poor Yihan who had to film in a bulky chicken suit. Donghae had so much fun on set that day, he stayed until the very end of the shoot, fiddling with the camera in between takes, pestering the production crew, punching Yihan’s spongy chicken butt at every opportunity he could obtain.
Sungmin remembered, because it was past midnight that Donghae flopped onto the dorm couch, and showed Sungmin a video clip of Yihan waddling about and rattling threats with her flapping wings pointed at Donghae’s camera. They had a hearty laugh over it after that. The day after, Sungmin felt immensely bad and left a number of anonymous messages of encouragement on Yihan’s fansite.
“I did.” Sungmin replied instead. He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “We made that song, remember.”
It was a song made by two people that night; half drunk, half high from lack of sleep, along with a handy acoustic guitar. There were nonsensical lyrics, but Sungmin vaguely recalled that the melody was surprisingly pleasing. The scribbles on the notebook however, were indiscernible the next sober day, and Sungmin never bothered to decipher it.
Donghae stopped, face frozen before a smile unfurled across his lips. “If you were a chicken, I’d be your drumstick.” He hummed.
“You actually remembered the lyrics?” Sungmin blurted out in amazement. He himself must have been more inebriated that night than previously thought.
Donghae peered at Sungmin, who resisted the immediate urge to flinch and turn away.
“If I were kimchi jjigae, you’d be my red rocking kimchi.” Donghae continued, “We’d paint the town red and burn tongues together.” He paused, “Or something to that extent.”
Sungmin stared at Donghae’s face in half disbelief, before letting out a light chuckle. “I claim no part in the writing of those lyrics.”
Donghae coughed deliberately and gestured towards Sungmin, “You can be the tapioca pearls swimming in my sea of milk tea-”
“I did not write th- I was hungry!” Sungmin explained.
“That’s why we ate kimbap.” Donghae finished.
~
They trashed the plastic wrappers of the kimbap into the green bins at the park and headed back towards their dorm, Donghae mindlessly humming a random tune in time with their alternating foot squelches on cold damp soil. It was almost comfortable to Sungmin, if not for the careful sidestepping to prevent the bumping into Donghae’s shoulders.
“I could be the water in your camel’s hump.” Donghae uttered suddenly, a quick glance a Sungmin before reverting back to observing the ground as he walked.
But there is no water in a camel’s hump- was what Sungmin wanted to say, except his heart clenched in sudden realization, in the stillness and vastness of the night that enshrouded the both of them.
Sungmin had never been good with words, and there was no reason that he would start now. It didn’t help that a familiar flush was rising to his cheeks and his ears were burning.
“You can be the Gong Xi to my Qin.” He heard himself replying, and recoiled mentally from the direct implications of that statement.
But then he saw Donghae beam in response, and as a warm fuzzy feeling spread through his body, he thought; this is good enough.
____________
SADFACE. Originally written for SJ World 3rd Anniversary “Paint me a story” contest. I had to incorporate the setting of a park, as well as the words “until the very end”, with the theme of ‘Memories’, into the story. As usual, lost inspiration halfway and missed the deadline. I really wanted the Skip Beat OST! Ah well.
Sungmin/Donghae, Skip Beat references, PG, nonsensical fluff, 1,709 words
~Sungmin finds himself back to awkward relations with Donghae when they come back from Taiwan promotions. Donghae tries to rectify that in his own peculiar way. Also, a lesson in writing using the past tense- I admit, I need serious help here.
On the day that episode four of Extravagant Challenge aired, Sungmin found himself ambushed by Donghae at the entrance of their twelfth floor dorm. It was going so well after all, Sungmin reflected as Donghae grinned up at him and broke into abrupt loud laughter at Sungmin’s face of utter shock.
To get to the front door, Sungmin had army-crawled past the barricade problem by the name of Kim Ryeowook, who had set up base camp in front of the wide-screen in the living room: beer, almonds, a giraffe plushie, and an electronic dictionary. He had also sneaked past Eunhyuk and Zhoumi by pretending to grab more drinks from the refrigerator. The stuttering groan of the front door when he teased it open was also thankfully muffled by Ryeowook’s shouts of “Yah be quiet, it’s starting!” which was followed by two loud smacks and Ryeowook’s apologetic giggle.
Sungmin’s brain sank into a dull throbbing haze of annoyance. It was undeserved really, that he went through all that trouble just to be thwarted at the last second. Donghae was still laughing at him, which made him feel all the more infuriated. Since when did Donghae read his thoughts that well anyway? He wasn't feeling that patriotic to his members at this exact moment, and monitoring another’s performance could be done perfectly by Ryeowook after all.
A sudden ray of hope shone; maybe Donghae wasn’t waiting for him after all, maybe, as with Donghae and his strange little mind, he could be targeting another member and Sungmin just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Sungmin moved aside from the gap in the door. “Hyukjae’s inside. Remember to lock the door behind you.”
But then Donghae impatiently shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and did not dare to hold Sungmin’s gaze. Silence followed, and when it reached the threshold of awkwardness, Sungmin simply sighed and pushed Donghae’s shoulder with a sock-clad foot, and moved to lock the door quietly behind him.
The elevator ride was ridden in silence; Sungmin adamantly stared at the digital screen as the lift counted the floors down, but he could still feel Donghae’s muttering breath on the back of his neck, a warm stream of tickling reassurance of another person’s presence.
~
It was the burst of night air when they pushed open the glass doors that compelled Donghae to speak.
“It’s cold!” He shouted, sound carried in wisps by the wind. Sungmin glanced at him, a windbreaker and a hoodie, and raised an eyebrow.
“But I’ll be fine!” Donghae shouted back, noticing Sungmin’s concern. “So where are we going?”
There was no ‘we’ to begin with, no place in mind that he had, just away from the dorms, by himself, alone. But as he looked at Donghae’s expectant face, Sungmin could already feel the developing tiredness if he tried to explain this concept to him.
Instead, Sungmin found himself nodding vaguely towards the food streets on the East.
Donghae grin widened at the direction Sungmin pointed out. “Can we have kimbap?” A question in his voice and if he listened carefully, there was a lisp of tease sprinkled over his words.
If what Donghae was trying to accomplish was what Sungmin thought he was, then unfortunately it was working. The wave of déjà vu crashed hard on Sungmin’s chest. He cringed, noting the open look on Donghae’s face, trying to force the story to write out the way he wanted it to be. Sungmin was long past that phase, now he was a realist.
It wouldn’t work after all, the same food, the same person sharing that food, the same time at this late hour of the night, but in a totally different city, this one familiar with bright lights that he can pinpoint to buildings he can name, as apposed to the other one, three months back, where the only building he could name was the 101, and that, he wasn't even sure. Some things were better left where they were.
He stared at Donghae, a look that said ‘I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work.’
“What are you-“ But Donghae had already walked ahead, drawn like a baby elephant to a waterhole; in this case, street food.
~
They ended up at a park. Sungmin wanted to laugh hysterically at the absurdity of it all, but he somehow managed to resist. He watched Donghae break the kimbap into half, as their feet swung idly where they sat atop the jungle gym.
The air was quiet besides Donghae’s enthusiastic chewing of the kimbap, and with overwhelming silence, Sungmin allowed thoughts to fill up the wordless lull in their surroundings. He remembered the last time he played on a jungle gym as a kid, as he dangled upside down with knees swung over metal bars, feeling so free and yet so secured.
As he glanced over to the slides, bits of Ryeowook’s first kiss story came floating back in his mind. ‘It’ll be kind of funny though’, Sungmin thought, ‘if I say to Donghae, don’t expect me to kiss you on the jungle gym.’ He imagined Donghae’s shocked face, a shove perhaps, and a half-eaten kimbap dropped onto the sand below.
But oddly enough, Sungmin could not imagine whether Donghae’s response after that. For a moment, Sungmin was truly tempted to try it out, just to see what it could be.
“Kimbap’s nice.”
Sungmin blinked and re-focused on Donghae in front of him, no kimbap on the sand yet, he noted. Perhaps, it was better, to not know the definite answer. This way, Sungmin could imagine it any way he wanted it to be, thousands of scenarios, hundreds of expressions, tens of words exchanged, but only two ways it could end, and the one way he hoped it could be.
~
Donghae showed him a picture Siwon sent him.
“It’s in the episode today.” Donghae mumbled through his kimbap.
It was a camel. Or more specifically, it was made to look like a camel. It, in fact, consisted of two sweaty male staff members, and a whole lot of brown ceramic and wood and cloth, and a very realistic paintjob. Siwon and the female actress were posing happily against it. The captions wrote: A camel in a park! Shock!
Sungmin frowned. So much for thinking that Korean idol dramas were unrealistic; Taiwan dramas took the cake. Still, “They couldn’t get a real camel?”
Donghae shook his head, causing his fringe to fall over his eyes, softening his features momentarily. “It was cheaper this way.”
“I must be missing loads from tonight’s episode.” Sungmin mused, though not at all feeling apologetic. He liked the main actress, Yihan, was it? She reminded him of a miniature Soo Young, with the absolute perfection in ugly faces and a supposed idol reputation that was degrading towards nonexistence.
“You are.” Donghae echoed, but then continued cheerfully, “but at least you saw my chicken scene.”
Sungmin quirked an eyebrow. To his knowledge, Donghae wasn’t even the chicken, it was poor Yihan who had to film in a bulky chicken suit. Donghae had so much fun on set that day, he stayed until the very end of the shoot, fiddling with the camera in between takes, pestering the production crew, punching Yihan’s spongy chicken butt at every opportunity he could obtain.
Sungmin remembered, because it was past midnight that Donghae flopped onto the dorm couch, and showed Sungmin a video clip of Yihan waddling about and rattling threats with her flapping wings pointed at Donghae’s camera. They had a hearty laugh over it after that. The day after, Sungmin felt immensely bad and left a number of anonymous messages of encouragement on Yihan’s fansite.
“I did.” Sungmin replied instead. He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “We made that song, remember.”
It was a song made by two people that night; half drunk, half high from lack of sleep, along with a handy acoustic guitar. There were nonsensical lyrics, but Sungmin vaguely recalled that the melody was surprisingly pleasing. The scribbles on the notebook however, were indiscernible the next sober day, and Sungmin never bothered to decipher it.
Donghae stopped, face frozen before a smile unfurled across his lips. “If you were a chicken, I’d be your drumstick.” He hummed.
“You actually remembered the lyrics?” Sungmin blurted out in amazement. He himself must have been more inebriated that night than previously thought.
Donghae peered at Sungmin, who resisted the immediate urge to flinch and turn away.
“If I were kimchi jjigae, you’d be my red rocking kimchi.” Donghae continued, “We’d paint the town red and burn tongues together.” He paused, “Or something to that extent.”
Sungmin stared at Donghae’s face in half disbelief, before letting out a light chuckle. “I claim no part in the writing of those lyrics.”
Donghae coughed deliberately and gestured towards Sungmin, “You can be the tapioca pearls swimming in my sea of milk tea-”
“I did not write th- I was hungry!” Sungmin explained.
“That’s why we ate kimbap.” Donghae finished.
~
They trashed the plastic wrappers of the kimbap into the green bins at the park and headed back towards their dorm, Donghae mindlessly humming a random tune in time with their alternating foot squelches on cold damp soil. It was almost comfortable to Sungmin, if not for the careful sidestepping to prevent the bumping into Donghae’s shoulders.
“I could be the water in your camel’s hump.” Donghae uttered suddenly, a quick glance a Sungmin before reverting back to observing the ground as he walked.
But there is no water in a camel’s hump- was what Sungmin wanted to say, except his heart clenched in sudden realization, in the stillness and vastness of the night that enshrouded the both of them.
Sungmin had never been good with words, and there was no reason that he would start now. It didn’t help that a familiar flush was rising to his cheeks and his ears were burning.
“You can be the Gong Xi to my Qin.” He heard himself replying, and recoiled mentally from the direct implications of that statement.
But then he saw Donghae beam in response, and as a warm fuzzy feeling spread through his body, he thought; this is good enough.
____________
SADFACE. Originally written for SJ World 3rd Anniversary “Paint me a story” contest. I had to incorporate the setting of a park, as well as the words “until the very end”, with the theme of ‘Memories’, into the story. As usual, lost inspiration halfway and missed the deadline. I really wanted the Skip Beat OST! Ah well.