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There were exactly three steps to the instructions on the inner lid of the washing machine.
Rai needed approximately twelve more if he hoped to operate it correctly.
It had been a faculty in-service day, meaning that while school was out of session for the attendees, those who worked there were required for business. He was left with a full day ahead of him and no real plans.
After mentally going through Frankenstein's routines and deliberating, Rai had gotten it into his head that he wanted to help out with some of the household upkeep while Frankenstein was away. He thought it would be a nice surprise for his overworked partner.
Laundry had seemed like the easiest task of them all. A majority of the workload was completed by machines that were crafted specifically to make the process easy. There was less guesswork to it than, say, cleaning the kitchen would require. Rai wouldn't even know where to start in a bathroom.
The frustrating part was that he'd been present almost every time Frankenstein had taught the children how to operate the washing machine. Rai had just been too overwhelmed by the sweet floral smell of the soaps, and how it nearly made him feel lightheaded when combined with the looming humidity of the laundry room. He doesn't think he spared a single thought towards what was actually being said.
The climate of the room hadn't changed any, and it seemed that repeated exposure to it wasn't working to dull the sensation any. The sensory presences were still a nagging distraction in the back of his mind. Rai could only do his best to ignore them and focus on rereading the instructions.
Rai remembered that the laundry needed to first be separated into groups based on similar color. Nowhere on the lid did it list this as a requirement, but Frankenstein was a genius. If he did something a certain way, it must've meant that he knew better.
It helped that his partner primarily favored black, white, and blue garments. They certainly looked lovely against Frankenstein's skin and hair, but more importantly in this situation, they were simple to separate.
Clothes that did not fit into the three categories were a bit of a challenge. There were only a handful of greens, fewer browns and maroons, and fewer yet colors with no pairs. Rai knew mixing the colors together was frowned upon, but it seemed rather silly to place only two shirts into a washing machine that was about as tall and deep as his torso and head combined.
Additionally, how similar were the similar colors supposed to be? If he were to squint his eyes and let his vision go blurry, then some of the purples, reds, and browns could almost be mistaken for the same. How sharp was the machine's vision?
Rai decided to set aside the clothes he was unsure about, to take care of at a later time. Perhaps it would become clear to him after more consideration. More hopefully, one of the children would come home and be able to give him advice.
There were two pairs of industrial-sized washers and dryers, then two smaller pairs of what Rai was told to be normal-sized household washers and dryers. Rai, used to a lifetime of vanishing any uncleanliness from cloth, thought it was excessive when Frankenstein had ordered three new sets to go with his existing one. It turned out to come in handy, considering the size of their household and how much clothing and linen had to be cleaned on the regular.
He could easily fit the blacks and blues into the larger machines, and with a little pushing he could make all the whites fit into one of the smaller ones. Rai closed the doors and lid in preparation to fiddle with the numerous buttons and knobs, before remembering with distaste that he'd have to put the unpleasant soap into the machines first.
With the hesitation one would have when handling a frightened animal, Rai reached out and picked up the liquid detergent. There seemed to be some sort of powdered version everyone also used, but the thought of accidentally inhaling it made Rai feel queasy.
Holding his breath, he carefully unscrewed the cap. Rai had no idea how much soap was required for each load— but he figured that he'd rather put too much than have not enough and risk the clothes not getting washed correctly. There was no such thing as too clean.
Rai poured what he thought was about an equal amount of detergent into each washer. Perhaps he was stretching the liquid a bit thin, considering there had only been half of the bottle left, but he was already feeling sick from handling it for so long. Selfishly, Rai hurried to close the washers once more, then replace the cap on the bottle.
There was a trash can in the laundry room, true, but if Rai were to be spending more time in here, he wouldn't want more of the smell to linger. Disposing of the bottle in the kitchen trash was also unacceptable, considering its proximity to the living room where Rai mostly resided.
A quick trip to the outside cans was necessary. There were three, all of different colors, meaning Rai had to peek inside one-by-one to find which held the plastics. The smell of food scraps and other various refuse baking nearly a week in the sun was so vile that Rai had to spend a moment on the porch, in the fresh air, before he could return inside.
Once his stomach settled, Rai made his way to his customary spot on the chair nearest the couch. Closing his eyes, he willed his mind to clear itself of the commotion from his new experience, and drift off to a calmer headspace.
Rai didn't know how long he had been in his own head for when his attention suddenly snapped back to reality. He hadn't actually started the machines in order for the laundry to wash. He bounced up from his seat with an energy more characteristic of Shinwoo, and made his way back to the laundry room.
The headache that was beginning to receed from the neutrally scented air of the rest of the house, came back to him like a menace when he reentered the room. Rai shrugged it off with the renewed drive given to him by wasting time he didn't mean to. With all the authority of his title, the Noblesse made his way to stand before the machines.
His legacy meant nothing to the machine, whose dials were no less confusing despite Rai's show of austerity. The temperature he could guess well enough— Frankenstein often remarked how refreshed he felt after a warm bath, so it was the most logical choice. He could also reason that the water level should be high, to properly immerse all articles of clothing.
It was the cycle he was stuck on choosing. His first inclination was to choose the 'power wash' option, as it sounded most effective. 'Deep water wash' seemed redundant, as he had already chosen a high water level. The 'hand wash' setting was just ludicrous— he wanted the machine to do it, not himself.
Yet there was another option that caught his attention— 'delicate.' Delicate wasn't the descriptor any person would choose for Frankenstein, Rai in particular knowing this firsthand. Both in mind and body, he was immovable.
However, what first came to mind when thinking of his partner was how gentle and caring he was. He had a softness about him, from his tumble of curly hair, to the creases that lined his mouth and eyes whenever he smiled.
Of course, the way he dressed himself also contributed to that image. Despite Rai being most accustomed to the sight of Frankenstein in sharp suits, his internal image of the man was never dressed so elegantly. Rai much preferred his modern wardrobe, which was filled with homey, draping items. Even the finely pressed shirt and pleated slacks he favored in the workplace looked comfortable on him.
With that in mind, his answer became clear. Soft things must be treated delicately, cherished. Rai would do the same for his clothes.
Resolutely turning the knobs to the proper setting, Rai felt a pleasant sense of accomplishment wash over him as he pressed the button to start the machines. He may not have a bright, tactical mind like Lascrea and some of the other family leaders, but he wasn't stupid . He had the same wisdom in his blood as the rest.
A simple machine for washing clothes would not stop him.
Rai felt he deserved a short rest after what he had accomplished. While the cycle was going, he decided to slip away and get a cup of tea for himself. Takio had shown him a way to make it without the teapot and strainer Frankenstein used, greatly simplifying the process for himself.
Sure, the taste wasn't the same as when his beloved made it for him, but it worked in a pinch. Besides, there was something novel about squeezing the moisture out of the prepackaged teabags between two spoons once it was out of the microwave. It felt innovative.
He had opted for a sweet peppermint tea today, wanting to have the least floral thing possible. The cool burn in his nostrils from inhaling the scent was near heavenly. He would have to thank Lazarak later for picking it out at the store the other day.
Drinking the tea had been a fast process, though Rai would admit that he wasn't tracking the amount of time he spent watching the stuttering wobble of the second hand rotating its way around the kitchen clock. It wasn't until he noticed the minute hand reach the red number marking the top of the hour, that he became aware of his surroundings again.
It felt like it had been enough time for the clothes to have finished washing. Placing the spoons and the mug labeled 'Best Daughter' in the sink to wash later, Rai fortified his will and made the trek forward.
To his relief, the machine had wound down to a standstill. An acidic green light indicated that the cycle was complete. Reinvigorated by the completion of part of his task, Rai yanked open the door to the first washer.
He then had to fight the urge to immediately shut it against the stench. Rai never noticed anyone's clothes smelling this strongly of perfume, so he hoped that it meant the majority of it would be vaporized during the drying process. He would simply have to hold his breath for the time being.
One by one, he took each article of clothing out from the washer, straightened it up, and then carefully draped it across the bottom of the dryer's basin. He almost despaired when he started the first load, and through the window he could see his precisely crafted work being tumbled into a disarray.
Then, he vaguely remembered M-21 carrying armfuls of freshly dried, but rolled up clothes to his room. Rai had always thought that was because M-21 was a bit of a heavy-handed boy, and needed help from his siblings to fold them properly. Watching the process happening inside of the dryer, it seemed like it was a result of the function rather than clumsiness.
Rai still took care to stack the damp clothes in the dryer meticulously, though he felt much less panic at the sight of them flopping about when the machine started.
This time, Rai did not leave the room as the machines did their work. And though the smell kept him from fully letting his mind wander, the rhythmic churning of the clothes did wonders to distract him. There was a bit of disappointment that came when the rotation stopped.
He took no time to waste in pulling the door open to retrieve the clothes. When he stuck his hand into grab something, he found that the pile had a strange feeling to it. He ran his hands through it for a bit, just to reaffirm what he felt. Rai couldn't parse whether parts of the clothes were just slightly cooler than the rest, or if they were still damp.
Then he was reminded of the few early cooking sessions Rai had sat in on with Frankenstein and Seira. The three stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the stove, watching as Frankenstein prepared a simple scrambled egg. He had gestured to the outer rim of the egg, explaining how it was the first part to be cooked, and should be dragged into the middle so the rest of the egg had a chance to cook evenly.
Applying that logic, Rai reasoned that the laundry needed more time in the dryer to achieve a uniform heat. Afterall, was what he was doing much different than baking the rawness out of the clothes?
Rai took the garments out again, this time separating them into two piles of dry and mostly dry. From there, he made a thin layer of damp clothes along the bottom of the dryer. On top of that, he added what had already finished drying, and finally the rest of the damp clothes on top of that.
The process took longer than simply stacking items into the dryer the first time, so Rai unfortunately didn't get to watch as everything got tumbled about again. However, the satisfaction that everything was thoroughly dry this time around easily made up for the disappointment.
The next step in the operation was one that Rai was actually looking forward to. He had known how to properly hang and store clothes far before he had ever met Frankenstein. It was something his older brother had taught him, and a nice moment of quiet for them to share whenever reorganization of their closets was necessary.
He pondered on the thought as he carried the laundry basket up the two storeys from the basement to Frankenstein's chambers. He never disclosed much about his brother to anyone, even Frankenstein. Rai wondered if the two would have liked each other. He certainly hoped— Rai couldn't stand the thought of his old family rejecting the new family he had created.
Rai made a mental note to make a physical note later, reminding him to tell Frankenstein more about his brother. He had been very important to Rai during the time he was alive, and Rai wanted to share that with his partner.
For now, he had reached his destination and could begin putting things away. He did as he had been taught— taking the first item from the top of the basket and wandering over to where it would go. It was a thick pair of soft pants that Frankenstein wore to bed on cold nights. Those belonged in the third drawer of his armoire, if memory proved correct.
He went about this way for each article of clothing— picking it out, sorting it away, then returning to the basket to start with another one. Rai found the repetitive nature of the task calming, in a way. Perhaps that would be another thing to mention to Frankenstein. He wouldn't mind taking up this chore entirely.
His sequence did not break until nearly midway through the basket. His hands caught onto something weighty and cottony, and with great interest, Rai brought it up to inspect.
A large, soft knitted sweater was held in his grasp. Rai recognized it to be the one that Frankenstein wore most frequently on cold winter nights inside. It reminded Rai of quiet moments together, after the children had all retired to their rooms, and they would sit next to each other with their shoulders barely touching. Each man would go about their business— usually reading, or paperwork, or homework in Rai's case— in easy silence.
After hundreds of years of separation, Rai liked the knowledge that he could, at any moment, lean just the slightest bit to the side and feel his partner's solid presence with him. On nights that Rai became particularly detached from the reality that he was awake and alive, he would wind his hand around Frankenstein's bicep and soak in the sensation of warmth and firm muscle in his grasp.
It filled Rai with a deep sense of longing for such a moment right then, a feeling he was afraid he could not mute from being sent across his and Frankenstein's empathatic link. Though if the echo of desire reverberating through his heart was any indication, then Rai could assume the feeling was mutual.
Attempting to sate the feeling while his partner was away at work, Rai held the sweater to his chest. It felt warm, perhaps warmer than it normally would, but there was still something missing . Rai tried to press it harder to his chest in order to imitate the feeling of a body's pressure against himself, but that wasn't quite it either.
For a moment, Rai hesitated with his thoughts. He had an idea on better mimicking the feeling, but it was so... silly. Excessive. He was an adult being that had gone for centuries without even the desire to feel human touch. He needn't be so needy now.
Rai set the sweater aside so he could start again on his mission to put everything away. He made it through a few clothes, but his mind kept tugging him back to the sweater folded neatly atop the bed.
Creeping forward slowly, as if anticipating the posibillity someone throwing open the bedroom door at any time, Rai tentatively picked the sweater back up. He spent a few moments just rubbing his thumbs over the fabric, watching the way the wrinkles followed the path of his touch.
Once he worked up his nerve enough, Rai unfolded the garment. With one final, embarrassed pause, he slipped it on, letting the knit settle into heavy drapes off of his shoulders. The sleeves stretched over his hands, covering all but his fingertips. Rai was surprised by how nice it felt to be swathed in such ill-fitting clothes.
He gently grasped his opposing wrists at the same time, marveling at the slightly scruffy texture. From there, he began the slow drag of his hands up his arms, fingers wrapping firmly around his form, until finally coming to a rest at his shoulders.
It was nice, but Rai felt the want for more pressure aching in his upper arms. So he slid his arms tightly around himself, tucking his chin to his chest. It was nothing compared to the feel of his partner's arms around him, but if he closed his eyes, he could almost trick himself into imagining it was.
Rai had missed Frankenstein during the years he had been asleep, inasmuch as a slumbering person had awareness of their surroundings. There was always an undercurrent of longing and loss twisting through the most emotional moments of his dreams. Though Rai could not— and did not want to— remember the specifics of what he was dreaming, he knew the lingering feelings could not have been for anyone else.
He was uncertain if the new, modern setup of their lives was the cause of him sticking closer to Frankenstein, or if it was the compensation for his absence from Rai's life. In the past, Rai would've never resorted to such trickery to feel his partner's presence. It wasn't like him to be so swayed by such a small separation.
These days, though, Rai actively felt his absence, instead of it being an afterthought in the corner of his mind.
The only solace he had was that the feeling seemed to be mutual. He had noticed Frankenstein staying up well past when he should be sleeping, just to spend more time alongside Rai. He'd always been indulgent in Rai's desire to sometimes observe what he was doing, but after returning, Frankenstein wouldn't flinch when Rai tried to stay around during menial tasks he normally would've shooed him away from.
Rai liked it when he could linger around while Frankenstein cooked, or did dishes. He especially enjoyed when they would trek out to the small bed of flowers lining the front of the house, and tend to their needs. It was a chore usually given to the children, since Frankenstein rarely had time for such trivial tasks, so the experience was a rare treat.
He wondered why he hadn't chosen to do that, instead of laundry. Rai supposed it could be because he wanted to make a more visible contribution, but deep down, he knew that wasn't it. Gardening felt like something special he got to do with Frankenstein, so going about it alone lacked the same appeal.
Besides, the laundering process had been enlightening. Rai had a greater appreciation for what everyone did to pitch in to maintain the upkeep of the house. The desire to be a more active participant in the order of their home grew even bigger inside his heart. He would have to assert his desire to help more firmly in the future.
As it were, Rai slowly unfurled himself from the ball he had curled himself up into, prepared to return to work. He paused for a moment, internally debating, before deciding it wouldn't hurt to keep the sweater on for a bit longer. Just until everything else was in place, then he could hang it up properly with the rest.
Buzzing through his circuit again was far more comfortable, but no less slow. It was uncharacteristic of Frankenstein to let his laundry accumulate so much, but then again, his plate had been so full recently after a rather intense attack from the Union that left their three human boys injured. Frankenstein didn't like anyone else handling his clothes, so naturally, he had slipped up a bit on the upkeep.
It was a perfect reason, then, that Rai should begin to contribute more to chores. Rai had known him for longer than some of the human countries had been in existence. He'd seen into the other man's heart— into his literal flesh from all the wounds he had accumulated over the years. There would be no embarrassment in Rai cleaning his clothes.
Or, perhaps there would be some embarrassment. Frankenstein could be so silly in asserting his ability to take care of all of his needs independently. Rai understood that a lot of that mindset was in reaction to spending a good portion of his life around Nobles, a majority of whom looked down upon humans and condescended their competence. He just wondered why he still so insistent with Rai himself.
It made Rai happy to care for Frankenstein, just as his partner cared for him.
He was down to the last three items at the bottom of the basket when he could sense that Frankenstein had returned home. Rai scolded himself into keeping up the same pace he had instead of hurrying and doing a sloppy job. There was no reason for the thought of getting caught in the act of cleaning to make him so fluttery feeling.
It was just as well he didn't rush, because he was done with plenty of time to spare before Frankenstein made his way up to his bedroom. Rai busied himself observing the swirling brushstrokes of vines and flowers that adorned the room's wallpaper. He didn't want to startle the other man by staring straight at him as he first entered.
The door opened, and Rai could clearly hear the minute shuffle of Frankenstein's house slippers against the flooring, the deep inhale of his breath. Rai had decided he would turn to face him once he was addressed, but when the greeting never came, Rai looked over curiously.
"Welcome home," Rai noted softly. When he got a closer look at the man standing in the doorway, Rai couldn't help tipping his head to the side and looking at him in amused adoration. Frankenstein was flushed high up his cheekbones, a curious look on his face.
"Thank you, Master," he acknowledged after a moment of just staring. He then moved only enough to step inside of the room properly so he could shut the door behind him. Hesitating only a breath, he noted, "You look precious in that sweater."
Rai felt his face burning. One could practically hear the figurative crack ripple through the plan he constructed. For all his careful preparation, he had forgotten perhaps the most obvious thing that needed to be put away— the very thing enveloping his body.
Frankenstein allowed him a moment of privacy by going towards his armoire to pick out more fitting sleeping attire. The gesture did little good for Rai, who stood paralyzed by indecision. Would it be insulting to Frankenstein to immediately shed himself of the sweater after receiving a compliment? Or was it more insulting to keep wearing something that did not belong to him?
He was only broken from his frantic thoughts by the small, surprised noise Frankenstein made as he opened his drawer. Rai glanced over to see him running his hand over the contents, likely taking note of the residual heat in the cloth. Slowly lifting his eyes, he met Rai's gaze.
"Did... was this you? Did you do my laundry for me?" he asked quietly. Rai could tell there was some embarrassment to his voice, but for the most part, it seemed that Frankenstein was grateful for the surprise.
Rai nodded in response. "You were at work today, while I had none."
Frankenstein ducked his head to hide his flustered smile, diverting his attention to the drawer. He pulled out a sharp set of navy pajamas, one that had been washed that afternoon, and pushed the drawer closed. Rai nodded in unasked approval— the pair was especially handsome on Frankenstein.
"Thank you so much," he said, hand raising to rest over his heart. "Though I do hope the mess wasn't so unsightly that you felt compelled to fix it."
Rai took a few steps forward, shaking his head. He stopped a pace in front of Frankenstein to ensure he had his attention. Once he was certain, Rai explained, "There was no mess, just a few baskets. I wanted to do something for you."
Without thinking, his hands raised once more to his own arms, rubbing the soft expanse of the borrowed material. "I missed you."
Their psychic bond wasn't necessary for Rai to feel the waves of affection radiating from Frankenstein. It pleased Rai dearly, knowing he could still evoke such a response from the other. The warmth in his heart was soon accompanied by the heat of Frankenstein's body as he closed the space between them and wrapped Rai in his arms.
A tension he didn't realize he was carrying in his lower back melted away as Rai sunk into the firm hold of his beloved. Frankenstein's arms held him tighly to his chest as he wrapped them around his middle, just at the base of his ribcage. Rai's own arms looped around Frankenstein's neck while he pressed his forehead to the crook of his shoulder. Rai squeezed his eyes shut so he could focus solely on the way their breaths slowed and synched up.
This had been what he was missing, what he couldn't hope to replicate with his own arms and a soft sweater. The steady heartbeat thrumming against his chest, the flex of his muscles as he tried to swallow past the overwhelming emotion gripping at the base of his throat, the cold nose snuggled against the skin just behind Rai's ear.
The light smell of cologne worn off through the course of the day surrounded Rai, and erased any less-than-fond memories of sticky-sweet flowers.
Rai lifted his head just enough to feather a few light kisses against pulse point below Frankenstein's jaw. That earned him a soft, breathy snort. Even after all that time, it was still a ticklish spot for Frankenstein.
He turned his head to shield the sensitive area, and Rai took advantage of the new access he had to press a lingering, chaste kiss to his partner's lips. Frankenstein raised a hand to gently massage his fingertips along the base of Rai's skull. Rai moved to do much the same, his hands petting the soft curls hanging by the side of his face, and slipping them behind his ears.
After a breath longer, the two parted and snuggled back against each other in a less desperate embrace. Frankenstein tucked his arms around Rai's shoulders, letting Rai snake his arms around his waist so he wouldn't have to stretch up.
There they rested in each other's arms, time slipping past without a worry. It wasn't until Rai felt the faint rumbles of a snore building in Frankenstein's chest, that he pulled back. He took one look up at his drowsy lover, eyes barely held open and hair mussed about him like a halo, and had to give him one last peck on the lips.
"Ready yourself for bed," Rai instructed softly, pressing his nightclothes into his arms for emphasis. "I'll leave a quick note for the kids, tell them we retired early tonight."
Frankenstein confirmed the plan with a nod and a small hum, then turned to the attached bathroom to go about his nightly routines. Rai lingered a moment after he disappeared from sight, rooted in place by fondness at the familiar sight.
Rai would cherish every moment he had with this man, with their family. He was determined to fill himself with their love, so much so that he could reach inside himself and never be left wanting.