NYC to Madrid, One to Two, Me to You
NYC to Madrid, One to Two, Me to You
NYC to Madrid, One to Two, Me to You
They meet over lunch, with four other strangers. The cheapness of the table is hidden by a thick white tablecloth with plates and silverware arranged neatly on it, all right angles and dull shine. Jongin is trying to calm the slight churning in his stomach, unused to the up and down movement of the ship’s floors. Kyungsoo is watching the ship’s wake through the huge window at the back of dining room, watching the white foam that marks their journey across the Atlantic from New York City to Madrid. Jongin starts with spring rolls, then penne alla vodka, with German chocolate cake for dessert. Kyungsoo orders calamari and an American burger, medium well, with apple pie for dessert. They get to talking while the others at their table begin discussing politics and they tune it out like everything else adults say.
“Two days ago I woke up and my parents told me we were going on a cruise,” Jongin says, filling one of his penne with sauce. “I promised them I would spend my last summer at home with them, but they didn’t promise anything in return.”
Kyungsoo laughs and sets down his burger, taking a gulp of water. “Sounds familiar. I lost track of my parents on the first morning. They’re probably off getting mud facials or some other crap like that.”
Jongin laughs in agreement and reaches over to Kyungsoo’s plate to snatch a French fry. Kyungsoo doesn’t complain but grabs a piece of bread from the basket, sopping up some of the sauce from Jongin’s bowl.
“So what are you majoring in next year?” he asks conversationally as he carries the soaked bread back to his own plate.
“Business administration,” Jongin lies. “What about you?”
“English literature,” Kyungsoo replies casually. “And don’t laugh.”
Jongin doesn’t. “I don’t know anything about that kind of stuff.”
“Just as well.” Kyungsoo sighs. “I feel like I’ve been cheating for this entire trip because I should be working on a summer paper.”
Jongin laughs because he feels like that’s what Kyungsoo expects. “Hey, what cabin are you staying in?”
“9083. What about you?”
“8085. What do you know, we’re just a floor and a hallway apart.”
“That’s a new way to think about it,” Kyungsoo says after he finishes his burger.
Their conversation ends abruptly when a photographer runs up to the table for a picture. He takes a picture of the middle-aged couple and the retirees sitting with them before assuming Kyungsoo and Jongin are together and snapping a quick picture of them with their shoulders touching as they lean over the table. He departs with a quick smile that doesn’t quite curve correctly, or so Kyungsoo thinks, and Jongin is just about to say something when a waiter descends to collect their plates.
“Finished, sir?” the waiter asks, with a thick Filipino accent.
Jongin nods quickly and the plates are cleared away. At this point the retired couple tries to strike up a conversation with him and Kyungsoo by asking about their families, so their conversation ends permanently too. Lunch ends when Kyungsoo gets a call on his walkie-talkie, blushing at the geekiness of my family, and everyone disperses. Jongin wanders over to the buffet to get a cone of soft-serve and debates whether showing up at Kyungsoo’s cabin will be considered weird or not. Because he’s suddenly struck by the shape of Kyungsoo’s face, and the way he imagines Kyungsoo’s chin will fit perfectly into his hand.
…
It turns out Jongin never has to find out what it will be considered because he runs into Kyungsoo again late in the afternoon when the older boy slides into the hot tub next to him.
“Hey, I found you again,” he greets, wincing as he gets used to the water’s temperature.
“You did,” Jongin agrees, moving over to make more room on the concrete seat. “How have you been anyway?”
Kyungsoo shrugs. “My parents wanted me to play bingo with them. Thankfully there were only three rounds.” A thoughtful pause, in which he finds himself suddenly lost in the depth of Jongin’s eyes. “Oh, and sorry about leaving so suddenly from lunch--I really wanted to get to know you.”
Jongin laughs. “That’s okay. I figure it’ll be nice to have a friend on this ship anyway.”
Kyungsoo ducks under the water and resurfaces, dark hair plastered to his face as he splashes Jongin playfully. Jongin responds in kind, and soon the hot tub is a chaotic mess of bubbles and splashing and laughter. The tub’s other occupant, an overweight middle-aged man, leaves for the other tub with a disgusted look. Kyungsoo and Jongin only laugh and smile at each other.
…
That night Kyungsoo’s parents go to an art auction so he sits with Jongin’s family at showtime, which consists of a series of loud musical numbers that do not capture anyone’s attention for more than the duration of the first bar. Afterwards Jongin’s parents wander off to the bar and Kyungsoo and Jongin are left free to themselves. They go to a comedy show on the top deck, with a view of all the late night party-goers on the pool deck below, and afterwards they stay for the adults-only game show to celebrate Jongin’s coming-of-age (which was really a few months ago).
After one too many toilet jokes the show is over and they wander around the now-deserted pool deck. It’s late but neither of them is tired, and neither of them feels like sleeping because they’re on vacation and when it’s over they have to go back to the real world. They might as well enjoy it, they decide.
However their parents are already asleep so reruns of reality television is no longer an option, it’s too late for any organized events to still be going on, and all of the restaurants have closed for the night. In the end they decide to sit on lounge chairs near the pool, the ocean air whipping around their thin sweatshirts.
Jongin yawns as he re-adjusts his seat on the hard interwoven plastic. “I didn’t know you could sing.”
Kyungsoo ducks his head in embarrassment as he realizes he was matching Justin Bieber’s “Boyfriend” falsetto. Knocking his flip-flops onto the ground, he pulls his knees to his chest and rests his chin on the crease in between to conserve warmth.
“I’m not charismatic enough to become a singer for real, and besides, you can’t make a good living from being a singer anyway. I’d probably end up becoming one of those cruise ship singer-dancer things, and to be honest I’d really rather not.”
He doesn’t notice Jongin’s scowl but continues mumbling into his knees. “And I know you can argue that you can’t make money with a degree in English literature either, but there are plenty of teaching jobs and besides for that you don’t have to put yourself out there and risk being laughed at. I can at least do something that I like instead of something that I love.”
Jongin mmhmms quietly and switches position again onto his stomach so he’s facing Kyungsoo. There’s silence for a period of time and then Kyungsoo speaks.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to unload that onto you, but my parents have been really hard on me lately with that whole thing.” His expression is uneasy as he waits for Jongin’s reaction.
“That’s okay,” Jongin says. “It’s not like I contribute much to the conversation anyway.”
Kyungsoo lifts his head from his knees. “Was I talking too much? If you feel like I talk too much that’s perfectly fine. Sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you off or anything.”
Jongin laughs awkwardly. “Why do you apologize so often? It’s fine, really.”
Kyungsoo laughs back. “Yeah. We’re on vacation. Let’s just forget about it.”
They both try to forget about it, but it ends dissolving into silence. After a few seconds Jongin sighs loudly.
“This is boring,” he says. “There’s nothing to do on a cruise except for eat and sleep.”
“Well, I’m just saying.” Kyungsoo pauses. “But people don’t really go on cruises to eat and sleep. They do it to spend time with each other.”
Jongin looks up, and Kyungsoo is staring at him. The younger boy blinks in disbelief.
“Was that some kind of horrible pickup line?”
“Maybe.”
Jongin sighs, trying to prevent a laugh from creeping out of his throat. “The worst part is that it kind of worked. I’m starting to actually like you.”
Kyungsoo sticks his tongue out, grinning, and Jongin has the most childish urge to poke (kiss) it.
…
There are few tourist islands in the Atlantic Ocean, which means there are few stops for the ship on its way to Europe, which means that after the first few days even the ship’s indoor ice skating rink and bowling alley become boring. The highest point of day is noon, when the sun is strong enough to take the edge off the ocean wind, and every day there’s a poolside barbeque with large quantities of meat ready to be charred into oblivion.
“Get me another burger,” Kyungsoo demands, dropping his plate onto Jongin’s bare stomach.
“Hey,” Jongin protests. “I have ketchup on my stomach now!”
“I bet tomatoes are good for your skin,” Kyungsoo counters, turning over onto his back so he can see Jongin’s face. “You’re welcome.”
“You can’t play that card,” Jongin says, suspiciously. “I got the last two burgers, and you’ve yet to get off that nonexistent of yours.”
“I’m offended,” Kyungsoo gasps, his eyes gleaming with mirth even behind his oversize sunglasses. “I thought you liked my !”
“Oh God.” Jongin squints at the sun, wondering how his life ever came to this. “I’ll get your damn burger, okay?”
Kyungsoo grins, and Jongin winces at the intensity and awkwardness of it. Groaning exaggeratedly, he slides off the lounge chair and almost slips on the bottle of sunscreen as he feels around for his sandals.
“Careful with that,” Kyungsoo murmurs, crossing his arms behind his head as he basks in the sun.
“Oh I’ll be careful all right,” Jongin mutters to himself, snatching up Kyungsoo’s plate.
Still grumbling, Jongin gets on the line for burgers. He knows Kyungsoo’s condiment order by now: mayonnaise on the buns, just enough lettuce to stop him from feeling guilty about the mayonnaise, one slice of tomato, a handful of onions, and three pickles, arranged at sixty degree angles from each other. When the cook plops the patty onto Jongin’s carefully arranged plate, the pickles are jostled and the sixty degree angle scheme is ruined. He gently nudges the errant pickle back into place, deciding not to tell Kyungsoo about his finger touching his food.
On his way back to the upper deck, where they’ve set up camp, the dance floor overwhelms him. Every afternoon there’s some sort of themed party going on on the pool deck, with the overly enthusiastic activities director yelling to make her encouragements heard over the ear-splitting music. “Party Rock Anthem” comes on and some people trickle over to the dance floor, which Jongin unfortunately has to cross on his way back.
“Come on, dance!”
Jongin turns in horror and the activities director has his wrist in a death grip, blinding smile on her shiny face.
“No, it’s okay,” he begins to say.
“I’ll hold that for you,” she says, and grabs the plate from Jongin’s hand. (He resolves not to tell Kyungsoo about that either, if he ever gets the plate back in the first place.)
The next thing he knows he is being pushed into the throng, and the song turns out to be actually a remix with “Gangnam Style”, stuttering in between electric beats so no one knows which song exactly they are dancing to. Jongin tries desperately to make his way back to the woman holding his plate, but the music is too infectious. Everyone dances so close and so tightly that there is no hope of getting away before the end of the song.
“Oh hell,” he says to himself. He might as well enjoy himself for the next two minutes.
Party rockers in the house tonight
Jongin feels his body curling around itself and through the air, his arms the parentheses to a statement that trails off into the air. He senses the electronic bit coming, so he lifts one foot, ready to shuffle, but then--
Op-op-oppa Gangnam style
He almost laughs to himself and crosses his arms in front of him, his body loose as he jumps from one leg to the other, head bobbing to the beat of the song. It’s actually pretty nice to be able to dance without any pressure for a while, just dance for the sake of dancing. He knows the dance pretty well, and the remix plays most of the song through before switching back to “Party Rock Anthem” for the last few bars, which Jongin improvises before looking up expectantly for his plate back. Only--
“Well done!” the activities director exclaims, nearly jumping onto Jongin as she brings the camera closer to him. “That’s what I call a dance party!”
Jongin doesn’t respond. “Can I have my plate back?”
“Okay! But smile at the camera first, won’t you?”
Jongin smiles at the camera, but he hopes it looks like a grimace instead. Then he receives his plate back and retreats to the upper deck, vowing never to venture that close to the dance floor again.
“Why’d you take so long?” Kyungsoo asks as he accepts his plate and examines the proportions of lettuce and onions, the perfect alignment of the pickles.
“No reason,” Jongin replies.
Kyungsoo tsks loudly, but Jongin doesn’t respond. He’s too busy glancing nervously at Kyungsoo’s expression as he deems the burger worthy and takes a huge bite out of it.
He doesn’t suspect a thing.
…
Jongin thinks for a moment, chewing on the inside of his mouth. It’s two a.m, and they’re lying on some sofas in the back of some lounge, which is empty right now because there’s a happy hour special on the other side of the ship. The sofa is shaped like an L, so Jongin is sitting with his back against one side of the it, his legs stretched down one of the lines of the L. Kyungsoo is lying on the other L, his upper body resting in Jongin’s lap so they can see each other.
They’re playing would you rather, and they’ve decided that they would rather wake up with no recollection of the previous night next to the Burger King saying they had it their way, than in the same circumstances with Ronald McDonald saying they were lovin’ it. It’s Jongin’s turn to ask a question.
“Would you rather go around or bald?” he asks finally.
Kyungsoo makes a face. “Bald, of course. I can just wear a hat.”
“But don’t you want to just give the world a big you, sometimes? Just walk around and they can’t do anything about it?”
“They could arrest you for public ,” Kyungsoo points out.
“But according to the rules of would you rather, they wouldn’t be able to make you get dressed,” Jongin responds.
“That’s true,” Kyungsoo concedes. “But life in prison would be pretty boring. And pretty difficult, if you were . If you catch my drift.”
Jongin laughs so hard he almost hits Kyungsoo in the face with his elbow. Kyungsoo, surprisingly, only scowls darkly and then laughs with him.
“What day of the cruise is this?” he asks after a period of silence.
Jongin looks at the ceiling as he tries to remember. “Fourth? Fifth?”
Kyungsoo sighs. “Well, yesterday we learned how to curse in Tagalog from that waiter at lunch. And the day before there was that weird hypnotism show...”
“No,” Jongin disagrees. “The hypnotism show was the second day of the cruise. I remember because they did a segment about it.”
“Really? It feels like it was not long ago.”
“It wasn’t that long ago. Only a few days.”
“That’s right. It’s weird though. I can’t differentiate between days anymore. Everything is just one big blob in my head. Like we’re in a twilight zone or something.” He pauses, then adds as an afterthought, “A good twilight zone, though. One where you don’t have to worry about anything.”
Jongin couldn’t agree more. He lets the thought sink into both of their skin, through the still, air-conditioned air and into themselves. The moon is full over the ocean outside, and its light spreads for miles over the empty water, so the waves look gray and monochromatic and simple.
Jongin leans down, and Kyungsoo must have had the same thought because he leans up at the same instant, and their lips meet midair. The softness and sweetness of their mouths against each other’s startles them both, but in a good way.
…
It’s ten in the morning, and Jongin didn’t even bother to change clothes before taking the stairs two at a time to Kyungsoo’s room. His parents are already out on the ship, but the room steward hasn’t made up the cabin yet, so they can sprawl over the full bed, two small ones connected by a temporary one. They’ve already eaten from a plate of chocolate leftover from the buffet last night, and are lying intertwined as the television plays a Guy Code rerun.
“She’s pretty,” Kyungsoo offers as way of conversation when one of the hostesses appears on the screen.
“That’s weak,” Jongin says. “I understand why you don’t have any friends now.”
Kyungsoo huffs. “It’s not like you have any friends.”
Jongin can’t argue with that, so he just admires the way Kyungsoo mouths the words on the television screen involuntarily, half a beat behind the actual sound. To be honest, it looks a bit sad, always being one step behind. So Jongin leans over and covers Kyungsoo’s lips with his own, using his teeth to play with the soft flesh of Kyungsoo’s lower lip.
Kyungsoo kisses back, but not too much, and they slowly taste themselves on each other, along with chocolate, mint toothpaste, and just a hint of something else. It’s at this moment that they realize, without consulting each other, that they are in love. That they’ve finally found someone like themselves, someone with whom pleasantries don’t matter and comfortable silence is preferable to empty conversation. It’s something in the way Kyungsoo’s head fits into the dip of Jongin’s stomach, the way Jongin’s fingers fit perfectly into the space between Kyungsoo’s, that spells l-o-v-e so obviously it’s painful. It’s silly, but it seems like they were made for each other, and this explains the quick jump their relationship has made from here to there, acquaintance to soulmate. Because when you’re meant for someone else, you don’t need first and second and third dates, parents’ approval, anything. You’re meant for each other, in the same way that a book is meant to be read and a song is meant to be heard and a dance is meant to be seen.
…
Kyungsoo keeps finding ways to avoid his parents, because if there’s one thing he’s learned in his nineteen years of life, it’s that nothing lasts forever. In fact, this cruise lasts only four more days, according to the itinerary he picks up with Jongin after a late brunch. In his mind, that’s four more days with Jongin, because he has no way of knowing whether the younger boy returns his feelings or not, and he intends to savor every moment of that.
“Let’s see a movie,” he suggests. “It’s Toy Story, the new one.”
Jongin wrinkles his nose. “I hate that movie.”
Kyungsoo is gravely offended, and he demands, “but why?”
“The toys’ purpose is life is to be played with and loved by Andy, right? It’s what makes them happy, to keep him company. So why would they just let themselves be forgotten and thrown away? They should try to stay with Andy at all costs, even if it means revealing that they’re more than just toys.”
Kyungsoo can see the logic in this, but he also feels like there’s something, something crucial, that Jongin’s missing. He tries to think of it, but Jongin isn’t having any of it. He shakes his head in disgust, and grabs Kyungsoo’s hand.
“Let’s go. I bet there’s no one in the pool right now.”
…
Jongin is also feeling the pressure of time running out, but he’s not the sort of person to just let time run out without doing anything about it. In his mind, he has four days to make Kyungsoo belong as much to Jongin as Jongin himself belongs to Kyungsoo. That’s four days to run himself into the ground getting Kyungsoo to love him, because he doesn’t just give up on something as big as what they have.
They’re in the buffet, because sitting down at a restaurant makes both of them too anxious now. Jongin is sneaking a slice of pizza off of Kyungsoo’s plate because if that’s not macaroni pizza he’ll eat that nasty Asian stir fry, and he loves macaroni pizza.
“Why do I feel like I’m losing food as I go along?” Kyungsoo asks suspiciously as he lumps potato salad onto his plate.
Jongin shrugs, his mouth full of pizza. Kyungsoo narrows his eyes and shakes his head in disappointment.
“You make my life so difficult,” he complains, but Jongin can tell that he doesn’t really mean it. He swallows the rest of his pizza and inches closer to Kyungsoo, resting his chin on the older boy’s shoulder.
“Let’s go,” he suggests. “We’ll come back for seconds later. My arm hurts from holding all of this food.”
Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “Stop being such a wimp.”
They do go though, to the pool deck. From their table they can see the unbroken horizon and the peaked outline of the waves, reflecting the light of the sun overhead. They eat off of each other’s plates without discretion, talking about whatever comes into their minds.
“I like cooking,” Kyungsoo admits.
“Really?” Jongin asks, but he’s not surprised. “What do you like making?”
“Anything really. I could make macaroni pizza.” A glare, and Jongin ducks his head sheepishly. “I could make kimchi spaghetti.”
Jongin wrinkles his nose. “That sounds disgusting.”
The look on Kyungsoo’s face sends Jongin into a string of apologies and what was I thinking? that sounds like the work of a genius!
“It’s actually not that bad, though,” Kyungsoo muses, on his spoon absentmindedly. “You should try it sometime.”
“I should,” Jongin agrees.
He watches Kyungsoo’s face as he turns that thought over in his head, and neither speaks until Kyungsoo lets out a bark of laughter. He takes the spoon out of his mouth and points it over Jongin’s head.
“Is that you?” he asks, grinning.
Jongin turns. It’s an old video from the beginning of the cruise, the one of him dancing. He blushes beet red and shovels some rice his mouth, mumbling, “Maybe.”
Kyungsoo realizes what he sounded like and amends his statement. “No! I mean, you’re really good! I was just really surprised. You said you majored in business administration.”
Jongin finishes his rice and chews his lip. “That was a lie. My parents think that, but I’m really majoring in performing arts, with a focus in dance. They’re paying for it though, so I’m too afraid to tell them.”
Kyungsoo whistles, his mouth puckered into a round O. “That must .”
Jongin agrees, so he drowns his sorrow in a spoonful of mashed potatoes and gravy.
“But you know,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m sure they wouldn’t be angry if you told them. I mean, it’s what you want to do, right?”
Jongin nods adamantly. “More than anything.”
Kyungsoo shrugs. “Then do it.”
And it’s as simple as that.
…
Three days left in the cruise, and they spend one of them walking around the ship together, learning everything about each other from childhood pets to ual escapades. They both realize that even if it feels like they were made in each other’s shape, they still know next to nothing about each other. It’s not an obstacle, per se, just a fact. They’re happy to spend more time together, doing nothing more than being together.
Two days left in the cruise, and they spend one of them memorizing every contour of each other’s bodies, running fingertips along the outline of ribs in the hot tub, pressing close to each other in empty hallways before someone comes along, sneaking kisses in between trips to the ice cream machine.
One day left in the cruise, and they spend it wondering what will come next. Their parents tell them to pack, but they tell themselves that if they never pack, they never have to leave. Vacations always end, and with them the blissful ignorance of reality, the belief that nothing is wrong with the world and nothing ever has to be accomplished, that friends stay friends forever and everyone gets along. But weeks and months after a vacation, people always look through their phone’s contacts and realize that they’ve never kept in touch with that one guy from the restaurant, or that one girl from the beach. No matter how strongly promises made on a vacation are felt, upon return to the real world, those promises lose their meaning. It doesn’t matter what happened on a vacation, because a vacation is like a dream, a twilight zone where nothing seems real.
On the morning of departure, they run into each other in the hallway near the buffet.
“Jongin,” Kyungsoo says, at the same time Jongin says, “Kyungsoo.”
They laugh and brush it off.
“Before we leave,” Jongin begins slowly.
“I just wanted to say,” Kyungsoo bursts out in a rush.
They laugh again--they think too much alike.
“You go first,” Kyungsoo suggests.
Jongin blushes. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that...whatever this was, these past few days? I thought it was real. I hope you do too, because--”
“I love you,” Kyungsoo finishes.
They smile at each other.
“Exactly,” Jongin whispers, before leaning in close for a kiss that Kyungsoo finishes, a kiss that tastes like chocolate and mint toothpaste and just a hint of something else. That something else is dizzyingly sweet, but also sharp and clear, and it tastes like belonging.
And they know that this vacation will never end, not when they’ve found each other.
a/n } don't forget to comment if you enjoyed! ^^
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