Chapter Text
The dull sound of metal lightly hitting against metal repeatedly is accompanied by the smooth, low notes of the jazz music you left at a low volume in the living room. Your arm continues to work in circles with a whisk in one hand while the other arm locks a bowl carefully against your torso. You grin at your creation, watching the tiny, concentrated dot of red swirl into the mixture and turn the batter into a soft baby pink. You are almost certain that your mouth is watering at the sight as you are reminded of your go-to favorite macarons, closing your eyes and sighing as you imagine biting into its pillowy, delicate shell and savoring the rich, creamy filling. You’ve been craving for the said treat, but your boyfriend, ever the frugal one in the relationship, suggested making your own batch instead of bringing home your third dozen of the confection from the dainty pastry store a block away.
A calm voice lightly prods, a smile evident in the lilt of his tone. “Care to share?”
You look up at Wonpil seated at the counter, his legs swaying slightly as he shifts in his seat and curiously peeks at your bowl of pink, creamy goodness.
You look away and pout, “No, Pil, you’ll definitely have some once I’m done baking.”
He pays your words no attention though as he sneakily dips a finger into your batter and hastily smears a good portion of it on the tip of your nose. You hear his silly hiccup laugh resonating in the kitchen as you stare cross-eyed in mild shock at the blob of pink at the center of your vision, and you shift your gaze to see an impish grin resting on his lips.
Before you can grab the whisk in hopes of sprinkling some of the filling on him as payback, Wonpil is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and his legs around your thighs, securing you against him as he continues to laugh. He leans down to place a soft peck on your lips for good measure, leaving some of the filling on his nose to match yours, and you scoff at his attempt at escaping from your wrath. “Mister, if you think —”
Your words are effectively cut off when Wonpil’s arms shift on the small of your back to tighten his embrace around you as he tenderly brings his lips on yours again but in a savored kiss this time.
His lips caress your own in a soft embrace, nose nudging yours as you tilt your head to return the kiss. Your hands trail up his chest and around his shoulders to rest against the base of his neck, pulling him in even closer to chase the giddy lightheadedness that you crave for and that which only Wonpil can give. His lips part with small pants and you feel it’s as if he’s breathing life into you, the very reason you’ve formed a habit of pulling him in closer when parting for air to taste more of him again.
You feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter faster and the sparks on your skin grow warmer when his tongue prods your lip, and you let him in and allow the sweetness to overwhelm your senses. His tongue dances with yours as his hands trace a path up your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, to caress your cheeks in his palms as he takes the time to alternately leave gentle licks and soft sucks against your lips. You can’t help but smile into the kiss, left at awe at how he manages to make each kiss sweeter than the one before.
You wake up and fall asleep to hints of mint brought by Wonpil’s lips murmuring sweet nothings against yours when you part ways in the morning and fall back into his arms at night. Even Americano is sweet on his lips during kisses that are slow and savored when he comforts you after a long, hard day. You look forward to the lingering taste of his favorite strawberry milk from brief, encouraging pecks born out of the habit of affection. You’ve come to delight in the taste of beer in his kiss when teeth and tongue clash and all he wishes to do is feel your lips on his and your skin underneath his fingers.
You slowly pull away from the kiss and rest your forehead against his, grinning as you appreciate his puffy lips and the dazed look in his eyes.
You whisper, “Did you buy a lip balm? You taste like strawberries right now.”
He bites his lower lip guiltily, and you laugh, understanding before he even says a word. “I sneaked some from the filling when you weren’t looking.”
Kim Wonpil is enough sweetness to last you a lifetime for he is the saccharine rush that won’t ever let you crash.