Secrets and Dreams

Chapter 8 -Failure in Denial

Sicheng slowly came to his senses, stirring to what enticed him. His body ached all over, his throat parched, his head throbbing. But strangely it was his sense of smell that woke him up. The room became redolent of the savory smell of... french toast... bacon... eggs... and hot chocolate wafting into his bedroom. Did his parents come back home right away? Impossible. Then who...? Was he dreaming?

Dream. Sicheng's brows wrinkled in concentration. Did he dream he was being held by Taeyong in his arms and couldn't resist landing a light peck on his sweet smelling neck? His neck. Dear God I'm going too far with this silly crush on Taeyong. You have to stop now, Sicheng. Before you completely lose yourself.

Sicheng turned to his side and noticed a glass of water sitting on the nightstand. He must have left it there before he went to bed. Lifting himself up and resting on his elbow he reached for it, groaning as he did so and took several sips before placing it back and gingerly tried to sit up. His body felt stiff and his headache seemed to be getting worse by the minute. He should get up and investigate the source of that wonderful smell.

Sicheng got up slowly and dragged his bare feet to the kitchen, sliding his hand along the pale mocha plastered walls for support as he walked out.

Across the living area was the kitchen and dining areas at the far end of the condo. The bright sunlight filtered by sheer beige curtains illuminating the undivided room making it bright and welcoming. lt went unnoticed as Sicheng wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him.

There by the kitchen counter was Taeyong, chopping up some strawberries. Lined on the dark mahogany table was all the food he smelled. Sicheng blinked in disbelief. How did Taeyong manage to prepare breakfast much less find strawberries? And why?

"Taeyong?"

Hearing his name so suddenly made Taeyong jump and look up at Sicheng from behind the narrow island separating the kitchen from the dining area . He cut his index finger with the sharp knife. "Aahh..."

Sicheng gasped and immediately ran up to him, aches and pains forgotten. Then he did the most unexpected thing one ever could. He took Taeyong's hand and took the bleeding finger into his mouth, sucking on it to stop more blood from oozing out.

Time seemed to stop as the two of them froze. Even their breathing stopped, both scared to be the first one to move. Aghast, Sicheng seemed to come to his senses. As if everything was happening in slow motion, he pulled out Taeyong's finger from his mouth. He dared to steal a glance at his companion and discovered Taeyong's gaze was fixed on his mouth where his finger had been, mouth hanging open. Sicheng felt all the blood drain from his face. If wishes could be granted, he wished himself to cease to exist. What the fuck have I done?! I'm sick...I need help.

He quickly tried to recover from his horrible blunder by letting go of Taeyong's hand and grabbing the anticeptic and plaster strips from the kitchen drawer. Sicheng took Taeyong's hand once more, poured the anticeptic over the wounded finger. He felt Taeyong flinch so he blew gently on it.

"S-sicheng, it's fine," Teayong croaked. "The cut isn't deep. Sorry, I'm so clumsy."

Sicheng ignored him as he put the plaster over the wound, careful not to hurt his ward. His heart racing all the while, wondering why on earth did he do such a thing as putting Taeyong's finger in his mouth. He felt his face burn as shame and embarrassment overtook him. Stupid, stupid fool.