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Hwanwoong crosses his arms across his chest with a petulant pout set across his face, his accusing glare fixed upon an older male standing a few feet from him.
“You look cute!” Youngjo repeats trying to keep a straight face but fails, ultimately dissolving into a fit of giggles which earns him another scowl from his boyfriend, who is currently covered in flour from head to toe.
Hwanwoong ruffles his hair, trying to shake the flour off which falls around him and partly sticks to his clothes. “There’s flour in my hair,” he whines, “I hate you, Kim Youngjo!”
“No, you don’t,” Youngjo replies with a fond smile and moves closer to his boyfriend, lightly patting away at his clothes to shake off the white powder. “See? You’re all clean now.”
The younger just huffs in response, refusing to meet his gaze. Youngjo grabs him by the waist, still giggling at his boyfriend’s antics and cups his face, placing a tiny peck on the younger's pouting lips.
Startled by the sudden kiss, Hwanwoong shoves him back. He’s still scowling but now it’s mixed with an expression of disbelief and embarrassment. “I’m mad at you,” he yells at him, but his cheeks are starting to heat up. “Don’t kiss me when i’m mad at you.”
“You taste like flour.”
“I hate you.”
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Sunlight fades into the kitchen, making everything glow in shades of orange and yellow. The kitchen is a mess; china bowls filled with various ingredients scattered over the counter top with a recipe book propped up, open to a page reading ‘How to bake chocolate chip cookies.’ Further to the left, his boyfriend, Youngjo, is still struggling with the microwave buttons trying to set the instrument at 350 degrees.
A typical romantic saturday afternoon.
The microwave beeps twice all of a sudden startling Youngjo who jerks back, eyeing the object curiously. Hwanwoong sighs, stares at the microwave then back at his boyfriend who has his arms in front of him, hands balled into fists and posture instinctively set in a fighting stance, as if the object will suddenly launch an attack on them.
“Let me handle this,” he says, trying not to roll his eyes and shoves his boyfriend out of the way, taking control of the situation. Within a few moments, the microwave is humming peacefully and the sweet aroma of baking cookies gradually fills up the kitchen.
“I totally had it under control,” Youngjo insists but only looking half sure of himself which has Hwanwoong break into an affectionate smile. “Sure, you did,” he giggles as he interlocks their fingers together, gazing into his lover’s eyes which sparkle as if they hold a million galaxies within them.
“I love you, Hwanwoong,” he whispers, voice so soft and tender that Hwanwoong feels like he’s floating, existing in this giant bubble of love created by Kim Youngjo.
They kiss. It’s slow and sweet and filled with an intense mixture of longing and desire. It’s as if the world stops moving and is moving too fast at the same time. Youngjo pulls him closer by the waist and Hwanwoong wraps his arms around his neck; lost and mesmerised in the beauty of the moment.
The microwave beeps, startling Youngjo again who jumps slightly and Hwanwoong laughs, loud and unrestrained, his nose buried inside the crook of his boyfriend’s neck completely smitten and utterly in love.
“Looks like the cookies are done,” he whispers, reaching over to check them out but Youngjo grabs his wrist, pulling him back and hugging him close. Hwanwoong makes a startled noise in the back of his throat but doesn’t resist, instead melting into the embrace.
“Let’s stay like this for a while,” Youngjo whispers, his nose buried in Hwanwoong’s hair. “The cookies can wait.”
Hwanwoong smiles, holding him close and wonders about the most beautiful feeling in this world. He looks at his boyfriend, looks at their intertwined hands and decides that whatever they have between them is that feeling.
It’s the feeling of an unbreakable bond and everlasting love.