我是羊。 (amillionsheep) wrote,
我是羊。
amillionsheep

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±0.001% (rounded off to three decimal places) [2/?]

Title: ±0.001% (rounded off to three decimal places) [2/?]
Pairing: Kyumin
Rating: PG13 (rn, for a little swearing)
Word Count: ~3,400
Summary:Sungmin is a greeting card writer. He's good only at sympathy cards and rude only to Dr. Cho.
Warning: Siwon is fat in this fic. Zhou Mi is 70% OOC. Kyumin is under all that Mimin lol, idek.

Chapter 3: A Screw Loose





. . . . .

Sungmin spun the plastic bag which held his new goldfish with his left hand while he pressed the doorbell with his right. A loud piercing scream suddenly rang out and he jumped with fright. This startled Heechul who begin to swim around in frantic circles. Then there was a loud crash which seemed to come from the other side of the door followed by a “FUCK MY LIFE!” and the increasingly loud patter of footsteps. Instinctively, Sungmin took a step back.

“If you’re the salesman, I suggest you leave right now or I’m going to shave off all your hair for breaking my Gucci by Gucci Pour Homme. I mean it.” The words were growled out from behind the door, accompanied by a faint buzz in the background. Sungmin looked at Heechul in alarm. He wondered if it was his imagination but the fishy appeared to be flailing those little fins and above the eye bubbles, his eyes seemed to be saying, ‘Dude, we really need to clear out now.’ Before Sungmin could scamper to safety though, the door suddenly swung open. Man and goldfish both turned around slowly to face their fate.

They saw a stick brandishing an electric shaver at the doorstep.

“Who are you?” The stick asked with a frown as he shoved the shaver into Sungmin’s face. Then he noticed the terrified Heechul and grimaced, “I don’t want any goldfish.” The look of terror on the goldfish’s face was replaced with disdain and his eye bubbles billowed threateningly.

Crossing his eyes to look at the oscillating blades that were right in front of his nose, Sungmin swallowed his apprehension and said, “Erm, I’m actually your new neighbour. I just moved in opposite you a week ago.”

“Oh.” A click of the wrist and those blades ceased their oscillation. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“You didn’t give me the opportunity to do so.” Sungmin pointed out helpfully.

“What did you just say?” The shaver was switched on once again.

Sungmin put on a hasty smile and pushed the shaver away from his face. “Haha, just a joke, sorry…erm, hi, this is Heechul.” He lifted the plastic bag containing the goldfish to eyelevel. “And I’m Sungmin.”

“Have a nice life.” The stick said and he closed the door in one swift motion.

A single second ticked by.

“Why are you still here!?” The door flew open again.

“I didn’t have enough time to-“

“What exactly do you want?” The stick rested a hip against the door and made mental notes as he stared at Sungmin. A little on the meaty side. Short. Slightly tanned. Very nice lip shape with a tiny dip right in the center of the upper lip. Awful spectacles. Large black eyes which were practically brimming with gratitude after he reopened the door. Very short. Creamy smooth complexion which was currently complemented by flushed pink cheeks. 'Wait a minute. Why is he blushing? Why does he look so eager to please?' The stick’s mind put two and two together and when he arrived at the shocking conclusion, he started to back away hastily from the little man standing in front of him.

“No, I-” The stick tripped over a sneaker as he shuffled backwards. “-I mean, I don’t need-,” He knocked into the shoe cabinet as he attempted to put more space between them. “-don’t need your services.”

Sungmin’s brows knitted together in puzzlement. Then…

Oh..

“No! NO.” Sungmin was aghast as he shook his head wildly and made to move away from the other man too. For a minute, the two of them were busy putting more space between each other. Finally, Sungmin’s head hit his own door. “I, I‘m not an escort!” He managed to choke out in horror. “I just want you to help remind me to feed Heechul!” He shook the plastic bag agitatedly in a bid to clear his name. Heeechul floated gently to the water surface and tried not to go belly up.

The stick froze with his arms crossed in front of his chest, the very picture of an innocent who’s about to get violated on a dark stormy night. “What?” He managed a harsh whisper. “Who the fuck cares about your gol-hang on, did you say…”

Sungmin’s nodded vigorously. “Yes, you see, I killed my plants already because I forgot to water them. Someone suggested that I get another to remind me to feed the goldfish so I thought I’ll…” His voice trailed suggestively.

“A goldfish.” The stick repeated dumbly. “He wants me to remind him to feed his goldfish. His goldfish. Not a pineapple pleco, but a goldfish. Not a bleeding heart tetra, but a goldfish. Goldfish.” His head suddenly snapped up and Sungmin found himself worrying for his safety once again. “Of course. Yes, of course. I love goldfish crackers.” The stick positively radiated happiness and sincerity.

“Isn’t that a kind of biscuit?”

“One breathes, one doesn’t. But oh, what’s the difference?” The stick shrugged. “By the way, sorry about your cactuses.”

Sungmin looked at him with polite confusion. “How did you know I had cactuses?”

Zhou Mi’s eyes flickered from left to right. “Erm, I saw them sitting in the trash.”

From that day onwards, Sungmin always felt a pair of eyes behind him as he opened the door after reaching home from work.

Surely, it must be his own imagination.

. . . . .



Siwon opened and closed his mouth. He pursed his lips and patted his head with his right hand. As if acting on a whim, he abruptly turned his office chair around and fiddled with the small bottles placed on the window ledge. He opened each bottle and took a small sniff before he placed it back. After careful deliberation, Siwon picked the third bottle from the right and smeared some of its contents on his temples using his left middle finger. The Brown Room was suddenly filled with the smell of lavender. Sungmin resisted the urge to sneeze. Siwon turned back slowly to face him and finally spoke. Sungmin couldn’t help but noticed that the boss’s left eyebrow was twitching. It made his wig moved just a little with every tiny spasm.

“I was just wondering…have you ever heard of Alicia Keys?”

Sungmin shook his head fervently.

“You don’t know her? Really good R&B singer, award-winning albums, ‘Fallin’.” Siwon tapped his feet to a beat only he can hear and started to hum a few notes. “No?”

“No.” Sungmin lied. His hands, which were kept behind his back, were now taking turns to pinch each other in punishment for the lie.

Siwon tutted and read Sungmin’s next submission.



Siwon and Sungmin stared at each other for a full minute. Then Siwon bit his lower lip and his shoulders start to shake with what seemed suspiciously like suppressed laughter. His triple chins wobbled like how the Leaning Tower of Pisa would during earthquakes. Siwon made to speak but the moment his teeth released his lower lip, he let out a bark of laughter, so he clasped both hands over his mouth and jiggled in a realistic imitation of a quivering mass Jello as waves of laughter rocked him.

Mortified, Sungmin’s writer’s pride took the plunge. “Boss, you have got to transfer me back to Condolences! I can’t write like this.”

Wiping tears of mirth from his eyes after the laughing seizures subsided, Siwon replied, “Oh but Sungmin, there are no more vacancies left for you. To be honest, I have anticipated that you might run into problems so I have arranged another job for you.”

His shoulders drooped. “What.” He said dispassionately.

Siwon smiled and he leaned forward with considerable effort to place his elbows on the desk. Resting his chins on his clasped hands, he announced, “I am placing you in a temporary assignment. You will be assigned to our sister company, Prescription, for several writing stints. Work commences tomorrow. Due to time constraint, you will first conduct an interview with a doctor before you officially report for work next week. I’m really sorry about this arrangement but the editor told me they had a hard time fixing a date with the doctor and he just scheduled an interview at very short notice. At the same time, they’re low on manpower and were unable to find someone to send over.”

“Prescription? Isn’t that a science magazine, boss? I am not a journalist, I’m a greeting card writer!” Sungmin exclaimed with dismay.

“Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, look at me.” Siwon recited with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Sungmin blinked. “You’re Korean.”

“What I’m saying is,” In his enthusiasm, Siwon tried to sit forward but his belly was already hitting the desk, so he made do. “You’re a brilliant writer, Sungmin.” But Sungmin saw his boss snuck a furtive glance at his love poem. “Journalists, reporters, authors, greeting card writers. What’s the difference? You’re all writers. Didn’t you study science before? You can do this. Now let’s not waste time arguing over this. Go out and start packing. I’ll let you know when you’re needed around here.” Siwon smiled broadly as he dismissed Sungmin.

“Boss, the only science I know is diet coke and menthos…” But Siwon was no longer looking at him. So he dragged his feet to the door.

“Oh, Sungmin.”

Sungmin whipped around. He knew it, he was the best writer this company ever had, the boss would never do this to him.

“I’ve arranged for the new recruit to move in with you in your new company apartment.”

”What.”

. . . . .

“If you drop Specimen No. 3, that’ll mean a year of wasted efforts and an estimated loss of fifty million won for the research center.”

Upon those words, Sungmin really did almost dropped the little white mouse that was scurrying a furry way across his arm. He carefully cupped the mouse between his hands and placed it back into the cage which was labeled ‘Specimen No. 3 – PLA (4032D)’ before he turned his attention to the person who had crept up behind him (in reality, no one crept up on him, he was just too preoccupied with the wee rodent).

“I’m terribly sorry for taking the mouse out without permission, Dr. Cho.” Sungmin apologized. “But you were late for three hours and I got so bored waiting for you.”

The distraught Sungmin had arrived at Hye Min Research Center at precisely three pm. The building had a contemporary feel to it, all steel and glass, molded into a huge dome. Deciding that he preferred rectangular shaped buildings, Sungmin walked reluctantly in. After explaining his purpose and flashing his temporary Prescription employee pass, the receptionist handed him a visitor pass and led him to what looked like a common workstation. There were a few benches and desktops but that was it. The only thing that seemed to be of remote interest was the white mouse.

From three to four pm, Sungmin reviewed the list of interview questions that Siwon had handed to him yesterday and tried to pronounce the word ‘hemocytometer’.

From four to five pm, he tried to write. But he gave up after writing only one line:



That’s when he started talking to Specimen No. 3.

The fake welcoming smile plastered on Dr. Cho’s face froze for a second before it got even wider. “I’m sorry but the incubator broke down and I had to try to repair it. All sorts of experiments going on, you see, we can’t afford to wait for the technician.”

Sungmin suddenly tiptoed and peered into Dr. Cho’s face. Taken slightly aback, the latter slowly inched his head back as Sungmin’s face neared his. ‘Yes, this Lee Sungmin has a very nice face but holy shit, we just met for the first time.’ Dr. Cho thought. “…yes?”

“There’s a sleep crease on your left cheek, Dr. Cho.” Sungmin’s breath flitted across Dr. Cho’s face and he took a leap backward, all sorts of alarm bells ringing in his head. “What? Oh. That’s not a sleep crease, it’s just a crease made by the incubator’s door. I was leaning in to fix the thermostat.” The lie was executed smoothly but Sungmin nodded his head with an unconvincing look on his face. “Uh-huh.”

Dr. Cho gritted his teeth with mild annoyance. He was used to more agreeable people (read: people who agree with everything he says). “Just call me Kyuhyun, let’s talk in my lab.” He was about to stalk off when Sungmin said, “Where’s your stethoscope?”

“Huh?”

“Is your clinic in the research center?”

“Huh?”

“I said, is your-“

“I’m not a doctor!”

“Huh?”

. . . . .

After Kyuhyun explained that ‘doctor’ is used on him as a title and not a noun, he had expected Sungmin to be apologetic or maybe a little embarrassed. After all, how can an interviewer come to the interview not knowing who the interviewee is? But all Sungmin muttered was a small ‘sorry’ before he got distracted by jars of pickled monkey brains. While it sounded sincere enough, due to his low tolerance level for negligence (only when he was at the receiving end), Kyuhyun was feeling sufficiently pissed off. He draped what looked like a large piece of white cloth over Sungmin’s head and watched the smaller man struggled to get it off with a sardonic smirk.

Sweet little revenges, Kyuhyun loved them.

“What is this?” Sungmin gasped when he finally got it off.

“Lab coat.” Kyuhyun tugged on the collar of the white robe he himself had on.

“No, it’s ok, I don’t mind getting my old shirt dirtied.“

“Actually you’re wearing it so you won’t dirty my lab with your shirt.” Kyuhyun deadpanned and rolled his eyes when Sungmin pouted. “Change your shoes.” Sungmin obediently swapped his sneakers for those large ugly black rubber mansandles. “Here, safety goggles.”

“I already have glasses on.”

“Sulfuric acid is highly acidic and can cause blindness if splashed in eyes.”

Sungmin grabbed the safety goggles and jammed it on top on his glasses.

. . . . .

Kyuhyun led Sungmin on a small tour of the lab. “This is the incubator.” But all Sungmin could see was a fridge. “This is the tissue culture hood.” But all Sungmin could see was a cabinet. “This is where the petri dishes, pipette tips and culture plates are kept.” But all Sungmin could see were a lot of plastic things in various shapes and sizes. “There are other equipment but they’re in use right now and I don’t want to disturb the other researchers so that’s all for now. Any questions?”

Sungmin turned to him with large puppy dog eyes.

“Can you please repeat everything?”

. . . . .

Leeteuk clicked open the email he just received and immediately made a call. “Sungmin, can you please come into my office?”

A few seconds later, Sungmin entered the room. ”Yes, editor?”

“I don’t want to exert too much pressure on you on your first day here but what did you mean by ‘Dr. Cho was not in the mood for an interview’?”

Sungmin clutched his hands into fists so he wouldn’t twiddle his thumbs. “He wasn’t feeling very happy.” Technically, this wasn’t a lie. If Kyuhyun was in a cheery mood, he wouldn’t have thrown Sungmin out of his lab.

“Why don’t you try calling him to set up an interview again?”

“But…”

“I trust you can do it, Sungmin.” Leeteuk narrowed his eyes and slowly brought up the corners of his mouth.

Sungmin felt a shock of cold thrill ran down his spine.

. . . . .

The first call Sungmin made after he left Leeteuk’s office was, however, not to Dr. Cho.

“Hi, boss?”

“Sungmin? Why are you calling me? Isn’t this your first day of work at Prescription?”

“Yeah. I just want you to know that I really miss you.”

“…OK…I miss you too, I guess?”

“I’m sorry I ever called you fat. Goodbye.”

Siwon stared at his handphone for a long time after they hung up.

. . . . .

Call Attempt #1

“Good afternoon, can I please speak to Dr. Cho Kyuhyun?”

“Speaking. Who is this?”

“I’m Lee Sungmin.”

“Lee Sungmin who?”

“Lee Sungmin who you threw out of your lab? Hello? Hello? Heeellooo?

. . . . .

Call Attempt #2

“Good afternoon, can I please speak to Dr. Cho Kyuhyun?”

“I’m sorry, all the specimens have just escaped from their cages. Things are kinda chaotic right now.”

“Erm, when is it a good time to call again?”

“In your next life.”

. . . . .

Call Attempt #3

“Good afternoon, can I please speak to Dr. Cho Kyuhyun?”

“Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please check the number and dial again, or dial 911 for customer assistance.”

“…”

“…”

“I know it’s you.”

“Damnit.”

. . . . .

The last week had been mildly disastrous according to the standards of Sungmin’s boring life. He had:

#1: Made two department transfers within three days.

#2: Lost his cactuses.

#3: Acquired a new neighbor who may or may not be stalking him through the peephole.

#4: Gotten thrown out of a lab.

While these matters were hardly life-changing experiences, Sungmin must be feeling considerably stressed at the moment. And people tend to do and say things out of character when they’re stressed.

. . . . .

Call Attempt #4

“Good afternoon, can I please speak to Dr. Cho Kyuhyun?”

“I-“

“I hope your specimens chewed the sleeves off your lab coats.”

“Wel-“

“Well, actually, only GOOD people tend to have next lives. So even if I call, you won’t be there to pick up.”

“Hey-“

“Hey, you know what? I need to call 911 right now. I believe I just suffered a major stroke simply from hearing your voice.”

“…I’m free tomorrow. Do you still want that interview?”

“YES.”

to be continued

p.s.: i regret starting this longass fic. why cant i just stick to those dialogue fics like the lazy person i am.
p.p.s.: i'm not racist. i'm chinese. peter griffin is racist.
p.p.p.s.:why is there so much zhou mi :Dv
p.p.p.p.s.: mi, please burn your leopard print everything.
Tags: kyumin
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