“Pass me the sauce.”

 

“No.”

 

“ you.”

 

“Still no.”

 

Kyungsoo sighed in exasperation as he stared at Sehun who was inhaling his dinner. Any more of his wolfing down and Kyungsoo was sure the right-hand man would end up including the dining table in his diet.

 

Kyungsoo already had his cast removed and was quite comfortable with their quiet life in Daegu, already living a month in there since their run-in with the police. He had also quit his job at the grocery store after the whole fiasco with the old hag slash ual offender. Before the manager could chew him out for making a grandmother throw a fit and a carton of milk at Kyungsoo, effectively drenching him and the cash register, the smaller announced that he’s resigning. He said the working conditions were not suitable for his fragile state of both mind and body.

 

Since his arm was practically healed at the time— despite making his injured arm his reason to resign— he joined Sehun in the farm. To his disappointment, however, the owner made him take care of the vegetables in the field and let him nowhere near the tractor or the cows. Not that Kyungsoo wanted to partake in the milking process anyway.

 

All was well except for Sehun who also seemed to forget their actual identities, treating Kyungsoo as if they were actual roommates.

 

“Sehun, pass me the sauce.”

 

“What do you need it for?”

 

“You’re so ing annoying.” Kyungsoo growled, kicking the center of the table with enough strength to make the sauce, resting idly on Sehun’s side of the table, spill out of its container and onto Sehun’s right arm.

 

“Goddammit boss!” Sehun yelped as the hot thick liquid splattered on him. “Why do you have to solve everything with violence...” He took the sauce Kyungsoo wanted so goddamn badly and deemed it best to have it slid over to the smaller man’s side instead of making his skin suffer.

 

Kyungsoo held his index and middle finger up. “I had to ask you to do something for me twice.” He said as he used his other hand to pour so much sauce on his meal it started to look like stew. “You know that does not work for me.”

 

“That’s because you ask for so many things.”

 

“I do not ask for so many things.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Sehun asked with a brow raised, resting his back on the creaky chair. “When was the last time you cooked your own food?”

 

Kyungsoo, already having the spoon in his mouth, took the spoon out again, much to Sehun’s dismay. “You know I cooked this right.” Then he shoved it back in his mouth. “And you know this tastes good.” He proudly said with his mouth still full. After chewing for a few seconds, he took a chug out of his glass of water and slammed it on the table. “Whatever you’re trying to get at, your arguments will always be invalid. You know I’m smarter than you.”

 

Kyungsoo’s cocky answer further spurred the right-hand man to turn their conversation into a game of wits, wanting to prove that his boss was indeed a lazy-.

 

“When was the last time you washed your own clothes?”

 

“This morning. We have exactly two hoodies, five shirts, and four pairs of pants. It’s not that hard to wash them, really.”

 

“When was the last time you washed the dishes?”

 

“The last time will be in a while. I know you’re going to quietly slip out of the kitchen and fall asleep after this.”

 

Sehun cursed. He decided that he would have to ask about things that are on a bigger scale because he had to admit, Kyungsoo really was the one doing the household chores. Sehun’s usually dead beat when they’re both home from the farm.

 

“When was the last time you handled orders on your own?”

 

For a moment, Kyungsoo was momentarily stunned. “Orders of what?”

 

“Oh my god. Of drugs.”

 

The drug lord’s mouth formed an “O” because it’s been so long since he last engaged in illegal work. He leaned over the table and looked at Sehun square in the eye with a bored expression. “That’s why we have employees, Sehun. So that I wouldn’t have to do all the on my own.”

 

Sehun already had his eyebrows scrunched and his lips were curving downwards. Kyungsoo could already hear the gears in Sehun’s dormant brain turning.

 

“When was the last time you exercised?”

 

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “I don’t need to exercise. My body weight is normal.”

 

“What if you need to beat people up?”

 

The smaller man dismissed Sehun’s argument with a wave of his hand. “Those days are over. Right now, I’m just a businessman in the black market. Besides, isn’t it your job to protect me?”

 

Sehun blinked twice as if he was just reminded that he’s not a farmer. “Oh, you have a point there.”

 

Kyungsoo snorted in disbelief. “I always have a point. I hate sweating, you know that. And even if I don’t work out, I have guns and ammunition.”

 

The smaller man stood up and took his and Sehun’s plates, already bored with the questions that were going nowhere. He then started complaining to his right-hand man— as always— as he washed the dishes. “I know I’m a lazy-. This lifestyle is killing me and I want my old clothes back goddammit. I have rashes already.”

 

“Where?”

 

“I’d show you but that might lead to something else.”

 

“Boss, I really don’t swing that way.”

 

“You’ll never know until you try. But not with me. I’ve seen yours already and, quite frankly, it terrifies me to this day.”

 

Sehun groaned.

 

With the way things were going, both guys thought the rest of the week would be a quiet one for them still. Kyungsoo already had their budget all planned out even though Sehun flatout called him a lazy- and the latter had already cleaned his mud-encrusted boots for another day in the farm.

 

The following night, however, Kyungsoo was reminded of a very crucial attribute of Sehun. He’s a dumb. A really big dumb. A dumb who’s the reason they’re both running for their lives at three in the morning, barefeet, and with a package clutched at Kyungsoo’s chest.

 

 

That day, Kyungsoo had already finished watering the vegetables that needed watering and spraying fertilizer on the soil where the wheat was. Sehun was taking a long time carrying cartons of milk to and fro so Kyungsoo decided to also help feed the chickens and pigs in their respective pens.

 

Sehun, however, was still not done doing his other tasks after Kyungsoo had exhausted all of the possible things the owner was willing to make him do. The smaller man decided to go home first.

 

Since they had nothing in their “house” aside from a rickety sofa, a rickety table, rickety chairs, and luckily a not-so-rickety refrigerator, Kyungsoo sat down and started picking at the foam peeking out of the holes on the couch.

 

About two weeks ago, the drug lord realized that calling people who were affiliated with him and his job would eventually put him, Sehun, and his other people at risk. He listed down all of the phone numbers on a piece of paper because he’s too lazy to go out and look for a computer and a printer. After that, he threw his phone into a nearby lake in hopes that the police would try to look for him under the water and die. Because Sehun rarely used his phone for anything aside from playing and taking selfies, Kyungsoo let him keep his phone on the sole condition that he would not text or call anyone.

 

Right when Kyungsoo was about to drift off on the couch due to fatigue, three abrupt knocks were heard at the door. His eyes shot wide open and his heart rate spiked up.

 

Kyungsoo knew It’s impossible for the person to be Sehun because the latter had a key of his own. The right-hand man would never forget bringing it with him because Kyungsoo smacked him right in the face before for knocking so goddamn loud in the evening and ruining his sleep.

 

“I guess this is what Sehun meant when he told me I need to work out. .” Kyungsoo grumbled as he grabbed a frying pan from the kitchen.

 

He stayed by the wall where the door was supposed to hit when it’s swung with the frying pan gripped firmly by both hands as if he’s holding a baseball bat. When he heard two more knocks and was already sure that there was indeed a stranger behind his door, Kyungsoo took a deep breath. He unlocked the door and opened it gently.

 

Then he took a big swing.

 

“Woah!” The delivery man shouted right before the back of the pan collided with the parcel he used to cover his face. Luckily, Kyungsoo was able to stop his movement despite his speed and force. He placed the frying pan on the floor, eyeing the guy who looked like he had just seen a ghost.

 

He chuckled awkwardly and stood in front of the delivery man instead of hiding by the door, sheepishly rubbing his nape. The guy still had his eyes shot wide open, cold sweat trickling down from his forehead. Kyungsoo supposed it was his first time being greeted with a frying pan. “I’m, uh, sorry? I thought you were someone else.”

 

The delivery guy dropped his defensive position and shook his head while letting out an airy laugh. “No it’s, it’s cool. I was just surprised, you know.” He then held out the package wrapped in brown paper in front of Kyungsoo. “Here’s your package. And, uh, wait a sec.” He said, handing the parcel over to the smaller man and fumbling about with his back pocket, obviously wanting to get the hell out of there. He fished out a piece of paper and a pen.

 

“I just need your signature here-” The delivery guy said, pointing at the bottom of the paper where there’s a black line. “-and here.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Kyungsoo answered nonchalantly, grabbing the pen and signing twice at the receipt before handing it back to the guy who still looked pretty shaken up.

 

“Thank you for receiving the order and have a nice day.” The guy didn’t really look thankful but Kyungsoo had to give him credit for still being professional.

 

“Thanks. You too.”

 

After the guy left, Kyungsoo closed the door and threw the package— which did not seem fragile because it was kinda soft— on the sofa including himself. Right when he was about to drift off again, a realization struck him.

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes shot wide open, even wider than when he heard the knocks earlier. He ran to the front door and slammed it open. He ran through it, through the fence, and out into the street. The frantic man looked left and right but the delivery guy was already out of sight. Because it was already late, the street was empty, the other houses’ lights were already turned off, and it was so quiet outside that the only noises that could be heard were of the flickering lamp post and Kyungsoo’s heavy breathing.

 

Knowing that it’s a lost cause, Kyungsoo ran back inside the house and slammed the door again, making sure that he locked the damn thing. He also moved the dining table so that it would be resting against the door.

His pupils were moving so quickly, thinking of what he should put against the door next when his gaze finally landed on the parcel he received from the delivery guy.

 

Kyungsoo grabbed the parcel and held it against his ear, hoping that he wouldn’t hear anything ticking. When he was certain that the thing inside wasn’t a bomb, he started shaking it but received no response again. He pressed it— greatly thankful that it’s soft like a pillow— and inspected the thing from all sides.

 

Kyungsoo eventually found words written at the top-left of the package. He almost missed them because they were really small and he didn’t have his glasses with him.

 

He inspected the text closely and—

 

.

 

 

 

a/n: this story is so slow-paced i want to kms