(for rainbowtoxicity) into the pan
❊ for: rainbowtoxicity
❊ title: into the pan
❊ pairings: kai/d.o, mentioned!chen/baehyun, mentioned!kris/chanyeol
❊ rating: g
❊ word count: ~2.6k
❊ summary: Kyungsoo agrees to give Jongin cooking lessons. He doesn't plan on Jongin being so likable.
❊ a/n: i'm sorry it's not longer, but i hope you'll like it! tremendous thanks to the mods for being so helpful!
“Please, for the love of God, have pity on the poor kid,” Junmyeon says with a laugh as he enters the kitchen. The door swings shut behind him with a swish, once again drowning out the low murmur of voices from the other side.
Kyungsoo frowns down at the soup he’s stirring in a large stainless steel pot. It’s not quite as thick as he’d like it to be. (He ignores the suspiciously Baekhyun-like voice in his head that quips a droll, ‘That’s what she said,’ at the thought. Obviously, he’s been spending too much time with his insufferable friends - it’s making his mind a filthy place.) Half a cup of flour gets stirred in the cream colored broth, simmering over a low heat.
“He burnt ramen the other day, Soo,” Junmyeon tries again when he doesn’t get an answer. “The smoke alarm went off for half an hour, and the fire department showed up. The little old lady down the hall had to be checked over by the medics. It was awful!”
“Didn’t you go out with that fireman last night? Seems like your brother helped you. You should be more grateful.” He doesn’t bother to hide his self-satisfied grin, turning on his heel to walk over to the refrigerator. There should be fresh raspberries in the drawer, unless Jongdae got his sneaky little hands on them again.
Junmyeon blushes, thinking back to his date for a moment before clearing his throat and standing up straight. He clears his throat and tries to wear his ‘business’ face. It’s really not any more effective than his normal face, but Kyungsoo doesn’t have the heart to tell him.
“Okay, how about this? Give Jongin cooking lessons, and I’ll buy you the new standing mixer you’ve been eyeing since your birthday.”
That makes Kyungsoo pause.
On the one hand, Jongin is hopeless, and it’ll never work. There aren’t enough lessons in the world to help that kid. He simply doesn’t have the kind of attention span that’s needed for creating food with more effort than a microwave. He once fell asleep while leaning against the wall in the break room. On the other hand, Kyungsoo’s wanted that gleaming, silver and black mixer for months now. It has three speeds, a 15 minute timer with automatic recall, and an ergonomic swing-out bowl. What more could a person want?
“Fine,” he hisses, feeling swindled.
Junmyeon beams.
*****
“You don’t have to do this, hyung. I know you don’t like people in your kitchen,” Jongin says, hands shoved in the pockets of his tight black pants. He nods towards the closed door of Junmyeon’s office. “Just because my brother is the owner doesn’t mean I should get special treatment.”
Kyungsoo is confused. Does everyone really think he’s so mean as to kick people out of the kitchen? The only people he’s banned from the room are Baekhyun and Yixing, and that’s because Baekhyun broke the garbage disposal by shoving a fork in it, and Yixing almost cut himself with a paring knife.
He doesn’t want Jongin to think he’s a jerk, even if he’s not exactly doing this out of the kindness of his heart. “It’s no problem, Jongin. Why don’t we start by figuring out what you can do?”
Jongin frowns and pokes the egg on the counter in front of him. It rolls precariously close to the edge, and his cheeks turn crimson as he scrambles to catch it at the last second. Kyungsoo takes the egg and pointedly places it out of reach.
“Uh, well… I can make toast? And omelets?”
They have a lot of work ahead of them.
*****
Kyungsoo doesn’t understand.
Jongin isn’t normally a clumsy person. Not that Kyungsoo has been watching like a creep or anything, but he’s seen Jongin out on the floor of the restaurant. He can move with grace and ease, dodging around pulled out chairs and wayward feet. He manages to side-step Soojung and Luhan as they dart between the tables taking orders and delivering drinks. Jongin can carry a whole tray of food balanced on one hand without spilling a single drop all the way across a crowded room filled with hungry people. He’s not clumsy at all.
But he can’t measure a cup of olive oil without going over the line, and there’s gooey butter fingers all over. The meniscus sways and bobs firmly half a notch over the red designation.
“Wait! You can’t just dump it in like that!” he exclaims, catching Jongin’s wrist before he destroys the batter. He sighs and carefully pulls the glass measuring cup from Jongin’s hand. “First of all, that cup is used for solids. Not liquids. And second,” he taps the recipe in emphasis, “that’s not even the right liquid. We want to use vegetable oil for this.”
Jongin’s face flushes a charming shade of pink as he ducks his head. “Sorry, hyung.”
“There’s no need to apologize. It’s best to follow the directions, though, that way you don’t have to re-measure anything, and it’ll turn out the way you want the first time. Right?” Kyungsoo does his best to explain slowly and kindly. Jongin nods along quietly.
He’s not sure why Jongin seems so timid around him. It’s not uncommon to see Jongin shove Chanyeol off a barstool for being embarrassing, or to see him pinch Zitao’s sides when he’s being annoying. Honestly, Zitao’s face is way scarier than Kyungsoo’s. He has those cat-like eyes that scream murder. Everyone knows he’s a giant baby, but still, helooks like he could kill someone with one hand tied behind his back and not even break a sweat. Kyungsoo, in comparison, looks like Pororo. He’s not scary at all. It doesn’t make any sense for Jongin to be afraid of him.
Unless Baekhyun’s been opening his big mouth again. Sometimes being friends with a serial trouble maker is a pain in the ass.
“Uh,” he tries, aiming for casual and failing. “Baekhyun’s an idiot.”
“What?” Jongin looks up with wide eyes from where he’s trying to pour out the vegetable oil.
Kyungsoo feels his face heat and has to quickly check over the recipe again just for something to occupy himself. “Y-you shouldn’t listen to him. He’s probably said some stupid things, and I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me.”
He can feel Jongin’s stare like a caress against his skin. It makes him feel hot under his apron. It’s the cheesy one that says ‘Kiss The Chef’ in curvy blue script across the front. The apron he normally wears is solid black and, consequently, dirty from a flour explosion the day before. Sehun and Yixing had given him this one as a Christmas gift the year he graduated from culinary school, and it’s always been hard to disappoint Yixing with his heart of solid gold. When Kyungsoo had grudgingly put the apron on this morning, he hadn’t expected to be spending hours alone in the kitchen with Jongin. He hadn’t imagined wanting someone to do as the apron instructs.
Now, with Jongin standing close enough to touch, Kyungsoo feels acutely aware of the words scrawled over his chest. When he glances up from under his eyelashes, Jongin is smiling at him softly. It’s beautiful.
“I’ll form my own opinion of you, hyung.”
*****
“What’s on the menu for today, boss?” Jongin asks with a laugh. He hops up on the counter until Kyungsoo scowls at him. With one look, he hops right back down. “Sorry!”
He’s more at ease these days. It makes the lessons a lot easier. Jongin absorbs more when he’s not so busy walking on eggshells around Kyungsoo. He even successfully made french toast last time. It was a little burnt around the edges, but still, overall it was a good try.
“I was thinking spaghetti. Is that okay with you?”
Jongin nods along easily enough, and together they begin gathering the ingredients. Kyungsoo’s never been very comfortable with people in the kitchen with him. At the small restaurant, normally he’s the only one needed to make the foods people order. Occasionally, if they’re really busy, he’ll let Jongdae in to help him, but only if he’s desperate. Jongdae has a habit of stealing bits of the meals for himself, and it drives Kyungsoo crazy.
It feels natural now, the two of them working together. When Kyungsoo reaches for the pepper, Jongin is already holding it out. When Jongin needs a napkin, Kyungsoo is already wiping up the tiny mess. They’re able to weave and work around each other. It’s unexpectedly nice.
Jongin carefully browns the hamburger on the stove while Kyungsoo dices tomatoes. They make small talk about their lives, talking about unimportant things, until Soojung sticks her head in the door.
“Hey, Jongin!” she shouts with a wide smile. Her pretty brown hair is tied up and swishes behind her. “Your brother told me you were learning to cook, but I thought Junmyeon was joking. Smoking hot, kind, sweet and a good cook. Wow! You’re going to be the total package by the time you’re done.”
Jongin’s already good enough for anyone. He doesn’t need to improve his cooking abilities to impress people. Stupid, Soojung. Kyungsoo scowls and stabs his knife into the tomato a little more forcefully than he means to. “We’re busy, Soojung.”
“Touchy, touchy. You just want to keep Jonginnie all to yourself,” she jokes. “Fine! I can take a hint. See you boys later!”
She disappears as quickly as she came, and they’re left in silence. Kyungsoo feels like his face must be the same color as the tomatoes he’s trying to prepare for the sauce. His cheeks are hot and his ears burn. Why does everyone he know have to have such a big mouth? Why is it any of their business if he does want to keep Jongin all to himself?
“Sorry about that,” he mumbles in the uneasy quiet.
Jongin stares at him for a long second. When he turns back to the stove, Kyungsoo feels like he just failed some kind of test. Jongin’s shoulders are slumped, turned inward, and he hardly talks for the rest of the time they spend cooking together.
Kyungsoo is confused and a little bit hurt. Jongin takes the finished product and leaves before Kyungsoo can taste it at all.
*****
“Please, just talk to him already! I can’t eat anymore cupcakes, Soo!” Chanyeol protests through a mouthful of red velvet.
“Then don’t eat.”
“Hey,” Baekhyun interjects softly. He folds his arm over Kyungsoo’s shoulders, halting his process of piping the batter into cupcake tins. “Come on. We’re only trying to help. You’re stress baking, Kyungsoo, and it’s not healthy. Well, mostly it’s not healthy for us because we keep eating, but,” he continues to talk over Kyungsoo’s sarcastic response, “it can’t be healthy for you, either! You need to deal with your feelings instead of avoiding them by burying yourself in the kitchen!”
Kyungsoo answers by elbowing his way out of Baekhyun’s hold. The bag in his hands is still heavy with the double chocolate batter he’s trying. It’s finally time to find out the truth to the age old question: how much chocolate is too much?
“Stop watching daytime talk shows, Baek. You sound like my mother after watching that one show with the panel of doctors on it.” Jongdae shivers and curls his nose. It’s probably not pleasant to think of the similarities between ones boyfriend and mother. Serves him right for dating Baekhyun in the first place.
“Guys! Focus!” Minseok says, clapping his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, good. Now, Chanyeol, slow down before you puke. I will not be cleaning up after you because you don’t know how to say no to strawberry filling. Once was enough.” He takes the cupcake from Chanyeol’s hand and bites into it, ignoring Chanyeol’s wounded look. “Baekhyun and Jongdae, if you’re going to flirt, please don’t involve talk of your parents. It grosses me out.” They both squawk indignantly. Minseok barrels on in his no non-sense way. “And Kyungsoo, seriously, talk to Jongin. I know Junmyeon said we should let you guys handle it on your own, but this is getting even more pathetic than the situation with Yifan and Chanyeol.”
“Hey!” Kyungsoo and Chanyeol both shout at the same time. Kyungsoo is offended. Chanyeol and Yifan have been sleeping together for almost a year, but it’s supposed to be top secret because they’re both too afraid to admit they have real feelings for each other. It is difficult to watch the amount of stupid they both exude daily.
Kyungsoo is nothing like that! He can own up to his feelings! The problem is that he’s pretty sure it’s entirely one-sided.
Minseok rolls his eyes and heaves a giant sigh like dealing with any of them is more trouble than it’s worth. “One time when I was at Junmyeon’s, Jongin was making ramen in the kitchen. He heard us mention your name once and was so distracted while thinking about you that he forgot about the ramen. He literally burnt the noodles, Kyungsoo, because he was too busy daydreaming about you.” Minseok grabs the sagging bag of cupcake batter from his hand and lowers it to the table. He takes Kyungsoo by the shoulders and shakes him a little. “So, please, I’m begging you. Just talk to him so I can come home without baked goods covering every flat surface of my apartment.”
Kyungsoo stares speechlessly with big, round eyes. He tries to think back to his interactions with Jongin. So he hadn’t imagined the glances that lasted a little too long? The soft brush of their shoulders when they worked side by side wasn’t wishful thinking? That one time when Jongin patted the flour out of his hair and watched his lips hadn’t seemed very platonic, but Kyungsoo hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up.
“Oh.”
“Thank God,” Minseok celebrates with another bite of his cupcake.
*****
“Hyung?” Jongin asks, hesitant as he stands in the doorway. “What’s going on?”
Kyungsoo gathers up all the courage he can find and steps to the side so Jongin can see the candlelit table set up behind him. His hands are sweaty and balled into fists at his sides to hide the nervous tremors he feels. Deep breath. He can do this.
“I’ve had a lot of fun teaching you to cook, Jongin. It’s nice to spend time with you. You’re interesting and funny, and eager to learn. You don’t give up even when you make mistakes.” He meets Jongin’s deep brown eyes, feeling a blush heating up his skin. “And I’d like to keep spending time with you. Do-do you want to have dinner with me?”
Jongin shyly scratches his neck and looks away. There’s a pink flush all the way down his neck. Kyungsoo wants to see how far it goes. “Are you asking me for a date, hyung? Because it really sounds like you are, and I don’t want to get my hopes up if that’s not what you-”
Kyungsoo doesn’t bother to hide the grin that blooms across his face. His cheeks hurt from smiling so widely. Jongin’s hand fits perfectly in his own, their fingers slipping together like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He squeezes once and beams at Jongin’s shy smile.
“Will you go on a date with me?”
Jongin answers with a gentle kiss. It’s soft and sweet like powdered sugar, and Kyungsoo can’t help the pleased curl to his lips. The kiss lasts for long moments and it makes him forget all about the chicken parmesan he’s got cooking. It burns, and the fire department gets called. Jongin can barely contain his laughter, and he’s just so cute as he stands there, eyes radiating happiness, that Kyungsoo doesn’t even feel that embarrassed about the situation.
After all, now they’re even.
Then End.
❊ title: into the pan
❊ pairings: kai/d.o, mentioned!chen/baehyun, mentioned!kris/chanyeol
❊ rating: g
❊ word count: ~2.6k
❊ summary: Kyungsoo agrees to give Jongin cooking lessons. He doesn't plan on Jongin being so likable.
❊ a/n: i'm sorry it's not longer, but i hope you'll like it! tremendous thanks to the mods for being so helpful!
“Please, for the love of God, have pity on the poor kid,” Junmyeon says with a laugh as he enters the kitchen. The door swings shut behind him with a swish, once again drowning out the low murmur of voices from the other side.
Kyungsoo frowns down at the soup he’s stirring in a large stainless steel pot. It’s not quite as thick as he’d like it to be. (He ignores the suspiciously Baekhyun-like voice in his head that quips a droll, ‘That’s what she said,’ at the thought. Obviously, he’s been spending too much time with his insufferable friends - it’s making his mind a filthy place.) Half a cup of flour gets stirred in the cream colored broth, simmering over a low heat.
“He burnt ramen the other day, Soo,” Junmyeon tries again when he doesn’t get an answer. “The smoke alarm went off for half an hour, and the fire department showed up. The little old lady down the hall had to be checked over by the medics. It was awful!”
“Didn’t you go out with that fireman last night? Seems like your brother helped you. You should be more grateful.” He doesn’t bother to hide his self-satisfied grin, turning on his heel to walk over to the refrigerator. There should be fresh raspberries in the drawer, unless Jongdae got his sneaky little hands on them again.
Junmyeon blushes, thinking back to his date for a moment before clearing his throat and standing up straight. He clears his throat and tries to wear his ‘business’ face. It’s really not any more effective than his normal face, but Kyungsoo doesn’t have the heart to tell him.
“Okay, how about this? Give Jongin cooking lessons, and I’ll buy you the new standing mixer you’ve been eyeing since your birthday.”
That makes Kyungsoo pause.
On the one hand, Jongin is hopeless, and it’ll never work. There aren’t enough lessons in the world to help that kid. He simply doesn’t have the kind of attention span that’s needed for creating food with more effort than a microwave. He once fell asleep while leaning against the wall in the break room. On the other hand, Kyungsoo’s wanted that gleaming, silver and black mixer for months now. It has three speeds, a 15 minute timer with automatic recall, and an ergonomic swing-out bowl. What more could a person want?
“Fine,” he hisses, feeling swindled.
Junmyeon beams.
*****
“You don’t have to do this, hyung. I know you don’t like people in your kitchen,” Jongin says, hands shoved in the pockets of his tight black pants. He nods towards the closed door of Junmyeon’s office. “Just because my brother is the owner doesn’t mean I should get special treatment.”
Kyungsoo is confused. Does everyone really think he’s so mean as to kick people out of the kitchen? The only people he’s banned from the room are Baekhyun and Yixing, and that’s because Baekhyun broke the garbage disposal by shoving a fork in it, and Yixing almost cut himself with a paring knife.
He doesn’t want Jongin to think he’s a jerk, even if he’s not exactly doing this out of the kindness of his heart. “It’s no problem, Jongin. Why don’t we start by figuring out what you can do?”
Jongin frowns and pokes the egg on the counter in front of him. It rolls precariously close to the edge, and his cheeks turn crimson as he scrambles to catch it at the last second. Kyungsoo takes the egg and pointedly places it out of reach.
“Uh, well… I can make toast? And omelets?”
They have a lot of work ahead of them.
*****
Kyungsoo doesn’t understand.
Jongin isn’t normally a clumsy person. Not that Kyungsoo has been watching like a creep or anything, but he’s seen Jongin out on the floor of the restaurant. He can move with grace and ease, dodging around pulled out chairs and wayward feet. He manages to side-step Soojung and Luhan as they dart between the tables taking orders and delivering drinks. Jongin can carry a whole tray of food balanced on one hand without spilling a single drop all the way across a crowded room filled with hungry people. He’s not clumsy at all.
But he can’t measure a cup of olive oil without going over the line, and there’s gooey butter fingers all over. The meniscus sways and bobs firmly half a notch over the red designation.
“Wait! You can’t just dump it in like that!” he exclaims, catching Jongin’s wrist before he destroys the batter. He sighs and carefully pulls the glass measuring cup from Jongin’s hand. “First of all, that cup is used for solids. Not liquids. And second,” he taps the recipe in emphasis, “that’s not even the right liquid. We want to use vegetable oil for this.”
Jongin’s face flushes a charming shade of pink as he ducks his head. “Sorry, hyung.”
“There’s no need to apologize. It’s best to follow the directions, though, that way you don’t have to re-measure anything, and it’ll turn out the way you want the first time. Right?” Kyungsoo does his best to explain slowly and kindly. Jongin nods along quietly.
He’s not sure why Jongin seems so timid around him. It’s not uncommon to see Jongin shove Chanyeol off a barstool for being embarrassing, or to see him pinch Zitao’s sides when he’s being annoying. Honestly, Zitao’s face is way scarier than Kyungsoo’s. He has those cat-like eyes that scream murder. Everyone knows he’s a giant baby, but still, helooks like he could kill someone with one hand tied behind his back and not even break a sweat. Kyungsoo, in comparison, looks like Pororo. He’s not scary at all. It doesn’t make any sense for Jongin to be afraid of him.
Unless Baekhyun’s been opening his big mouth again. Sometimes being friends with a serial trouble maker is a pain in the ass.
“Uh,” he tries, aiming for casual and failing. “Baekhyun’s an idiot.”
“What?” Jongin looks up with wide eyes from where he’s trying to pour out the vegetable oil.
Kyungsoo feels his face heat and has to quickly check over the recipe again just for something to occupy himself. “Y-you shouldn’t listen to him. He’s probably said some stupid things, and I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me.”
He can feel Jongin’s stare like a caress against his skin. It makes him feel hot under his apron. It’s the cheesy one that says ‘Kiss The Chef’ in curvy blue script across the front. The apron he normally wears is solid black and, consequently, dirty from a flour explosion the day before. Sehun and Yixing had given him this one as a Christmas gift the year he graduated from culinary school, and it’s always been hard to disappoint Yixing with his heart of solid gold. When Kyungsoo had grudgingly put the apron on this morning, he hadn’t expected to be spending hours alone in the kitchen with Jongin. He hadn’t imagined wanting someone to do as the apron instructs.
Now, with Jongin standing close enough to touch, Kyungsoo feels acutely aware of the words scrawled over his chest. When he glances up from under his eyelashes, Jongin is smiling at him softly. It’s beautiful.
“I’ll form my own opinion of you, hyung.”
*****
“What’s on the menu for today, boss?” Jongin asks with a laugh. He hops up on the counter until Kyungsoo scowls at him. With one look, he hops right back down. “Sorry!”
He’s more at ease these days. It makes the lessons a lot easier. Jongin absorbs more when he’s not so busy walking on eggshells around Kyungsoo. He even successfully made french toast last time. It was a little burnt around the edges, but still, overall it was a good try.
“I was thinking spaghetti. Is that okay with you?”
Jongin nods along easily enough, and together they begin gathering the ingredients. Kyungsoo’s never been very comfortable with people in the kitchen with him. At the small restaurant, normally he’s the only one needed to make the foods people order. Occasionally, if they’re really busy, he’ll let Jongdae in to help him, but only if he’s desperate. Jongdae has a habit of stealing bits of the meals for himself, and it drives Kyungsoo crazy.
It feels natural now, the two of them working together. When Kyungsoo reaches for the pepper, Jongin is already holding it out. When Jongin needs a napkin, Kyungsoo is already wiping up the tiny mess. They’re able to weave and work around each other. It’s unexpectedly nice.
Jongin carefully browns the hamburger on the stove while Kyungsoo dices tomatoes. They make small talk about their lives, talking about unimportant things, until Soojung sticks her head in the door.
“Hey, Jongin!” she shouts with a wide smile. Her pretty brown hair is tied up and swishes behind her. “Your brother told me you were learning to cook, but I thought Junmyeon was joking. Smoking hot, kind, sweet and a good cook. Wow! You’re going to be the total package by the time you’re done.”
Jongin’s already good enough for anyone. He doesn’t need to improve his cooking abilities to impress people. Stupid, Soojung. Kyungsoo scowls and stabs his knife into the tomato a little more forcefully than he means to. “We’re busy, Soojung.”
“Touchy, touchy. You just want to keep Jonginnie all to yourself,” she jokes. “Fine! I can take a hint. See you boys later!”
She disappears as quickly as she came, and they’re left in silence. Kyungsoo feels like his face must be the same color as the tomatoes he’s trying to prepare for the sauce. His cheeks are hot and his ears burn. Why does everyone he know have to have such a big mouth? Why is it any of their business if he does want to keep Jongin all to himself?
“Sorry about that,” he mumbles in the uneasy quiet.
Jongin stares at him for a long second. When he turns back to the stove, Kyungsoo feels like he just failed some kind of test. Jongin’s shoulders are slumped, turned inward, and he hardly talks for the rest of the time they spend cooking together.
Kyungsoo is confused and a little bit hurt. Jongin takes the finished product and leaves before Kyungsoo can taste it at all.
*****
“Please, just talk to him already! I can’t eat anymore cupcakes, Soo!” Chanyeol protests through a mouthful of red velvet.
“Then don’t eat.”
“Hey,” Baekhyun interjects softly. He folds his arm over Kyungsoo’s shoulders, halting his process of piping the batter into cupcake tins. “Come on. We’re only trying to help. You’re stress baking, Kyungsoo, and it’s not healthy. Well, mostly it’s not healthy for us because we keep eating, but,” he continues to talk over Kyungsoo’s sarcastic response, “it can’t be healthy for you, either! You need to deal with your feelings instead of avoiding them by burying yourself in the kitchen!”
Kyungsoo answers by elbowing his way out of Baekhyun’s hold. The bag in his hands is still heavy with the double chocolate batter he’s trying. It’s finally time to find out the truth to the age old question: how much chocolate is too much?
“Stop watching daytime talk shows, Baek. You sound like my mother after watching that one show with the panel of doctors on it.” Jongdae shivers and curls his nose. It’s probably not pleasant to think of the similarities between ones boyfriend and mother. Serves him right for dating Baekhyun in the first place.
“Guys! Focus!” Minseok says, clapping his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, good. Now, Chanyeol, slow down before you puke. I will not be cleaning up after you because you don’t know how to say no to strawberry filling. Once was enough.” He takes the cupcake from Chanyeol’s hand and bites into it, ignoring Chanyeol’s wounded look. “Baekhyun and Jongdae, if you’re going to flirt, please don’t involve talk of your parents. It grosses me out.” They both squawk indignantly. Minseok barrels on in his no non-sense way. “And Kyungsoo, seriously, talk to Jongin. I know Junmyeon said we should let you guys handle it on your own, but this is getting even more pathetic than the situation with Yifan and Chanyeol.”
“Hey!” Kyungsoo and Chanyeol both shout at the same time. Kyungsoo is offended. Chanyeol and Yifan have been sleeping together for almost a year, but it’s supposed to be top secret because they’re both too afraid to admit they have real feelings for each other. It is difficult to watch the amount of stupid they both exude daily.
Kyungsoo is nothing like that! He can own up to his feelings! The problem is that he’s pretty sure it’s entirely one-sided.
Minseok rolls his eyes and heaves a giant sigh like dealing with any of them is more trouble than it’s worth. “One time when I was at Junmyeon’s, Jongin was making ramen in the kitchen. He heard us mention your name once and was so distracted while thinking about you that he forgot about the ramen. He literally burnt the noodles, Kyungsoo, because he was too busy daydreaming about you.” Minseok grabs the sagging bag of cupcake batter from his hand and lowers it to the table. He takes Kyungsoo by the shoulders and shakes him a little. “So, please, I’m begging you. Just talk to him so I can come home without baked goods covering every flat surface of my apartment.”
Kyungsoo stares speechlessly with big, round eyes. He tries to think back to his interactions with Jongin. So he hadn’t imagined the glances that lasted a little too long? The soft brush of their shoulders when they worked side by side wasn’t wishful thinking? That one time when Jongin patted the flour out of his hair and watched his lips hadn’t seemed very platonic, but Kyungsoo hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up.
“Oh.”
“Thank God,” Minseok celebrates with another bite of his cupcake.
*****
“Hyung?” Jongin asks, hesitant as he stands in the doorway. “What’s going on?”
Kyungsoo gathers up all the courage he can find and steps to the side so Jongin can see the candlelit table set up behind him. His hands are sweaty and balled into fists at his sides to hide the nervous tremors he feels. Deep breath. He can do this.
“I’ve had a lot of fun teaching you to cook, Jongin. It’s nice to spend time with you. You’re interesting and funny, and eager to learn. You don’t give up even when you make mistakes.” He meets Jongin’s deep brown eyes, feeling a blush heating up his skin. “And I’d like to keep spending time with you. Do-do you want to have dinner with me?”
Jongin shyly scratches his neck and looks away. There’s a pink flush all the way down his neck. Kyungsoo wants to see how far it goes. “Are you asking me for a date, hyung? Because it really sounds like you are, and I don’t want to get my hopes up if that’s not what you-”
Kyungsoo doesn’t bother to hide the grin that blooms across his face. His cheeks hurt from smiling so widely. Jongin’s hand fits perfectly in his own, their fingers slipping together like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He squeezes once and beams at Jongin’s shy smile.
“Will you go on a date with me?”
Jongin answers with a gentle kiss. It’s soft and sweet like powdered sugar, and Kyungsoo can’t help the pleased curl to his lips. The kiss lasts for long moments and it makes him forget all about the chicken parmesan he’s got cooking. It burns, and the fire department gets called. Jongin can barely contain his laughter, and he’s just so cute as he stands there, eyes radiating happiness, that Kyungsoo doesn’t even feel that embarrassed about the situation.
After all, now they’re even.
Then End.