I smelt the bakuteh the minutes I opened the door. Seoul could be quite unforgiving, even in the middle of spring. Today, the temperature dropped to 7 Celsius. After hanging my sweater by the door, I walked quietly to the kitchen and groped the cook.
He just turned around, with a smirk on his face and a chopping knife in his hand. He was busy chopping raw garlic (to be mixed with dark soya sauce and chilli as a dip). His lips descended on mine and I tasted garlic. Immediately I let go, and started picking the pork slices on the plate.
"When did you arrive? How was the custom? And why didn't text me?" While munching on the three-layered pork slice. He hit my hand, glared at me, and pushed me towards the bedroom.
"Bath first, dinner will be ready when you finish bathing!" Still very much a clean freak. I stole another piece and ran, to escape his glare.
When I came out from the shower, he already served our dinner on the itsy-bitsy dining table. Today's menu was simple, bakuteh, fresh lettuce, taufu pok and my all-time favourite, yam rice. All the taste of home, that I missed so much. After giving him a peck on his lips, sat down immediately to gobble the food. I don't know if his cooking has improved tremendously or I was starved for Malaysian food, but it sure tasted great.
"How was your shooting? Completed?" Munch, munch. "You will be here for how long?" Continues munching. He looked at me, with his indulgent smile and gave a small shake.
"Can you eat properly first?" And bend over to pick a rice from my face. "You act as if you have not eaten for ages."
Argh, why are you judging me. I love Korean food, I do, I do...but I am still a Malaysian boy at heart. I bite his finger playfully and continues eating. Hot bakuteh in the midst of a beautiful spring, I literally died and went to food heaven with a gorgeous hunk feeding me. I did what every sane Malaysian will do, promptly ignored him and kept eating.
"Arrived at 11 am."
Huh?
"The custom was smooth. Not many travellers."
"To do spot check!" He grinned at me. "And I wanted to surprise you. I have a feeling, that you have forgotten tomorrow date!"
I huffed and replied him grumbly, "Of course I remember, tomorrow is 1st of May, Labour Day!"
He arched his brow at me, waiting for me to brain his point.
I stared at him momentarily and then, the light bulb in my brain just lit up. Quickly got up from my seat, plop on his lap, grabbed his neck and gave him a shamelessly loud smooch, "Happy Anniversary!"
Of course, he was not amused, questioning me, "Which anniversary?" Quickly did arithmetic in my brain. Together for 9 years, broke up for a year and got back again for 2 years. Now I am utterly confused, are we celebrating our 12th year anniversary or 11th year? Wait, didn't I bang him in the toilet on our 10th year anniversary. So, it should be counted too, right?
But seriously, who cares.
I just slide down from him, turned his seat to face me, pulled down his shorts and enveloped him with my mouth. He hardens immediately and started shoveling himself into my throat, gently and then, he fastens his pace. His quiet moans just drove me insane.
After he was spent, he dragged me into our bedroom. I noticed that he has changed the bedsheet. In fact, that was the only thing that I noted, before he ravished me to his heart content.
Lying the dark, I circled his chest with my fingers. I felt his satisfied smile. He grabbed my hand, pressed it on his lips and kissed it. "Happy Anniversary." I raised my head, seek for his lips, and kissed him lightly, "Happy Anniversary."
YOU ARE READING
I'll tell you in 30 years
Roman d'amour"I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refuse to be reduced by it." - Maya Angelou What would you do, when you lost everything, career, family, money and self esteem? This is a story of fall from grace with a (un)healthy dose of smut.
