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“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
Full disclosure: Yoongi’s glare is giving Taehyung the heebie-jeebies. He soldiers on, though, pitting his trademark puppy eyes and baby pout combo against the ice cold stare.
“You do understand I wasn’t assigned the bakery course for a reason, right?” Yoongi continues. “Baking is not my specialty.”
Taehyung starts setting empty bowls and ingredients on the counter.
“I don’t need a specialist, I need someone who’s done this before. I would have settled for Naver, but time is of the essence and all the videos seem too complicated.”
A heavy sigh leaves Yoongi.
“I am not touching a single speck of flour, do you hear me?”
“Loud and clear!”
He keeps his word, doesn’t lift a finger. His instructions are precise, however; he answers each of Taehyung’s countless questions placidly, reminds him of steps he’s forgetting, gives him tips where his expertise allows. Taehyung catches a glimpse of his gummy smile when an egg almost slips from his grasp and scrunches his nose at Yoongi’s explicit mockery.
“I’ll have you know,” he declares, when Taehyung places the loaded baking sheet in the oven and wipes the sweat off his forehead with his wrist, chest puffed up in pride. “If these Pepero sticks end up tasting like shit, Seokjin-hyung can never know I was here.”
Taehyung spins on his heels, overgrown black hair whooshing in the process. “Trust me, if these turn out alright, you’ll be the last thing on our minds.”
“Gross.” Yoongi takes an unused bowl and pretends to vomit in it, to Taehyung’s amusement.
Everything goes according to plan until it’s time for the icing. Besides their different shapes and sizes, regardless of Taehyung’s efforts to make them uniform, the sticks are too crispy and break no matter how carefully he holds them. Impatient huffs make his permed bangs fly up and fall on his eyes, so he wears a headband to keep them away from his face. Yoongi is standing next to him, looking rather hopeless.
“I told you,” he murmurs, eyes roaming the absolute mess on the counter. “I’m not good with sweets.”
Taehyung sighs one last time, hands hanging mid-air due to his sticky chocolate smeared fingers. “It’s okay. We tried. I’ll clean this up before Jin-hyung arriv—”
A beep from the door announces the house owner is back from work, earlier than expected. Taehyung’s eyes widen; Yoongi scrunches his entire face, mouths a string of cuss words.
“Yah, what’s that smell?”
The smile on Seokjin’s face falls when his eyes land on the warzone his kitchen has become. He doesn't know what to make of it. Why is Yoongi standing there with a blank face? Seokjin blinks, frozen in place, until Yoongi looks to his right and pulls a whining Taehyung up from behind the counter.
“Show yourself, dumbass. It was your idea, after all.”
Taehyung’s face is burning with shame. He raises his hands in surrender, opens and closes his mouth several times, but produces no words. Seokjin clenches his jaw, drops the bags of groceries he’s holding on the floor, and waits.
“It’s all my fault, hyung, I’m so sorry! I promise I didn't break anything. I bought all the ingredients myself and I swear I’ll clean every inch of this kitchen, don’t get mad—”
Seokjin doesn't let him finish.
“Good night, Yoongi-ah.”
Taehyung bites the inside of his cheek. Yoongi nods once and pats his shoulder. “You’re dead,” he whispers, more seriously than Taehyung's ever heard him do, then sees himself out.
The silence Yoongi leaves behind is so deafening Taehyung knows Seokjin heard his gulp, one more reason to make his face and neck burn. Seokjin doesn’t move, doesn't speak, just stands there with arms crossed and narrowed eyes, so Taehyung starts stacking up the dishes and placing them in the sink lest he burst under that piercing gaze.
In his frazzled state, he opens the faucet with too much strength and the water splashes on the black shirt he borrowed from Seokjin’s drawers. Taehyung hisses at the sudden shower, struggles to block the jet with one hand and reach out to close it with another, but his dirty fingers keep slipping. A warm body presses against the back of his; the water flow stops with one smart flick of Seokjin’s wrist.
“Leave it.” The command uttered close to Taehyung’s ear sends shivers down his spine.
“I’m sorry, I’ll clean this all up in a minute…”
“I said leave it.”
Taehyung holds his breath, heart thumping in his chest. Deep down, he’s not afraid of Seokjin’s reaction, knows him well enough by now to conclude he’s not angry. Something about Seokjin’s voice, body language, even his breath tells Taehyung he won’t regret being a good boy and doing as he’s told. Seokjin places his hands on Taehyung’s hips and applies soft pressure to make him turn around.
“So you want to bake Pepero sticks.” He waits for Taehyung’s shy nod, lifts his head up with an index finger under his chin. “Why didn't you ask for my help?”
His voice is small, a dire contrast to Seokjin’s former sternness.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“And you thought Yoongi would help?” He lets out a low chuckle. “He can’t bake to save his life.”
“He told me he sucked at it.”
“No, it’s more than that. He tried to bake Jimin a birthday cake two years ago and almost set his apartment on fire. Guess who had to step in.”
Taehyung tries to stifle a laugh, but his shoulders give him away.
“Oh… He didn’t tell me that.”
“Of course he didn’t, not even Jimin knows about this.” Seokjin rolls his eyes. “I trust you’ll keep the secret.”
They share a mischievous grin.
“Cross my heart, hyung.”
Seokjin’s eyes fall to his lips and Taehyung’s heart aches with longing. They lean into each other at the same time, kiss like they’ve been apart for months, not hours. It’s ravenous, deep, but somewhat calm. Taehyung misses Seokjin all the time, but that particular day was tougher than usual. Their first Pepero day together was supposed to be perfect. He spent the past week planning it out, but life didn't cooperate and unexpected extra hours at work for both of them got in the way of his plans.
Still, Seokjin is not even a little mad for having his precious kitchen invaded and turned upside down without his consent. In fact, he breaks the kiss with a hot sigh and looks at Taehyung like he is a three-course meal. Of course, Taehyung is not the least bit offended; he pecks Seokjin’s lips once, twice more, just for good measure.
“Here’s how we’re gonna do this,” Seokjin declares, arms snaking around Taehyung’s waist. “You go on and clean this up, I’ll take a shower. Then we’re baking these together.”
“But we’re out of ingredients.”
“I bought them too. Baking Pepero sticks with you was my plan since the first time you mentioned it.”
Taehyung forces himself to break eye contact with Seokjin to notice the grocery bags on the floor. His heart does somersaults at the thought of Seokjin happily filling his shopping basket to surprise him. A dumb grin blossoms on his face.
“You remember what I said months ago?”
“Of course, silly.” Seokjin boops his nose with a finger, and laughs when Taehyung tries to bite it. “It was right before our first kiss, how could I forget?”
Taehyung wraps his arms around Seokjin’s neck, brings their faces together. “Have I ever told you your lips tasted like cinnamon on that day?”
“Oh, did they?” He arches an eyebrow up, so teasingly Taehyung’s toes curl in his slippers. “Would you mind telling me what they taste like now?”
Seokjin closes the short distance between their lips again, savors Taehyung’s muffled giggle. When Taehyung opens his mouth, Seokjin licks inside and retreats, too soon for Taehyung’s liking. He leans forward, seeking Seokjin’s mouth with eyes closed, a whiny moan vibrating in his chest.
“Okay, let’s get to work. These treats won't make themselves.”
He walks away and into the bathroom, leaving a flustered Taehyung swaying by the sink. He pops a piece of chocolate forgotten on the counter into his mouth, left too empty too soon, and follows Seokjin’s orders, doing his best to tame the impatient fire under his skin.
He channels his frustration into cleaning and it pays off. He’s already transferring the items in the bags to the counter when Seokjin steps out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist and droplets from his damp hair running down his chest.
“I’ll be there in a minute!” He announces on his way to the bedroom. Taehyung bites his lower lip to suppress the urge to run after him, throw that offensive towel far away and mount Seokjin on the bed.
Everything is ready when Seokjin joins him in the kitchen, in his plain white T-shirt and grey shorts glory. His black hair is pushed back and there’s a soap-scented aura about him, much to Taehyung’s despair. He greets Seokjin with a wet kiss, wraps his legs around his hips before Seokjin can escape him.
“Someone’s hungry,” he grins, a coy squeeze to the underside of Taehyung's thighs. He gets his bottom lip trapped between Taehyung’s teeth and sucked into his mouth before a verbalized reply.
“I’m famished.”
Seokjin drops him gently and winks. “We better get started, then.”
They work together in blissful sync. Taehyung listens attentively to Seokjin’s commands, has watched him work enough times to absorb some of his gestures and mannerisms. Though Seokjin hides it well, he has a hard time focusing on their task, with Taehyung humming along to the jazzy songs on his playlist and putting his beautiful hands to work so gracefully on the dough.
“Chef-nim, is there a technique you recommend to mix the ingredients with your hands?”
Despite the teasing vocative, Taehyung’s question is genuine. He’s too focused on making Seokjin proud to fool around now, which gives Seokjin the perfect opening to make him blush.
“Yes, let me show you,” he replies in a nonchalant tone, placing both hands on the swell of Taehyung’s ass. Taehyung jumps in surprise, then throws his head back in laughter, resting it on Seokjin’s shoulder. “If you press on it like this, the dough will turn out… Exquisite.”
He kneads Taehyung’s flesh, hands moving slowly but firmly. He nuzzles the hair at the back of Taehyung’s head, revels in the shudder that shakes his frame when Seokjin’s warm, sharp breaths hit his nape.
“You’re such a good teacher, hyung…” He turns his head to face Seokjin and steals a sloppy kiss.
Reluctantly, Seokjin moves away to prepare the baking sheet, not without appreciating the flour handprints he left on Taehyung’s black shorts.
They have dinner while the cookies are in the oven, some leftovers Seokjin brought from his restaurant. Seokjin catches him staring twice, chopsticks forgotten mid-air; he mumbles protests, mouth full and lips pressed together to hold back a smile and the food stuffing his cheeks. Taehyung just grins, his bare foot running up and down Seokjin’s calf under the table.
“Show me how to do it and let me finish,” Taehyung requests as soon as the Pepero sticks are baked and ready to be decorated. “I couldn't surprise you on my own earlier, let me have this.”
Seokjin doesn't argue, never one to deny Taehyung anything. He does the dishes this time, while Taehyung has his fun with the different kinds of icing and sprinkles. Seokjin pretends to be peeking over Taehyung’s shoulders from time to time, just to get slapped on the arm and hear his annoyed laugh.
“Voilà!” Taehyung’s voice is sweeter than sugar when he brings the finished plate to the table where Seokjin is waiting. Always the fast learner, his handiwork seems good enough in Seokjin’s biased assessment.
He returns Taehyung’s blinding smile with an Oscar-worthy flabbergasted reaction, eyes popping out of their sockets and hands covering his gaping mouth. “These are the most beautiful Pepero sticks I’ve ever seen! The student has indeed surpassed the teacher!”
Taehyung moves to sit on the chair beside Seokjin’s, body shaking with laughter, and gasps when Seokjin’s arms wrap around his waist and pull him to sit on his lap.
“Now listen here, you brat.” He pairs a serious look with his velvet voice to show Taehyung he means every word. “Next time you want to surprise me with your impressive cooking skills, you don't have to try to do things on your own. I’ll be more than glad to help. I love cooking and I love you. Enjoying both at the same time is the best date I could ever ask for.”
He finishes his speech with a soft smile, but Taehyung doesn’t react the way he expects; actually, he doesn't react at all, sitting perfectly still in his arms, shock etched on his face. Seokjin gulps, wonders if he sounded too harsh. He’s about to apologize when Taehyung lets out a breathy chuckle.
“You said it.”
“Huh?”
Taehyung’s glistening eyes and fluttering lashes make Seokjin’s heart ache. What has he done?
“You said you love me.”
Seokjin’s panic melts away, replaced by the familiar burn of his face. They’ve been together for about three months, and though he’s only voiced his love for the first time now, he knows in his bones that it was always there, unspoken, but never unfelt. That’s definitely not how he’d imagined such a special moment would unfold, but part of him is relieved to get that out of the way already.
“I did. I do.” A nervous smile shapes his lips. The tips of his ears burn almost painfully, force him to look away from Taehyung. “You don’t have to say it back, though, it just slipped out. I didn't even think about it… I didn't mean to make this awkward, nor pressure you, please…”
Taehyung doesn’t speak, lets Seokjin ramble on while he rearranges the Pepero sticks on the plate. When he faces Seokjin again, he shushes his nonsensical mumbles by resting a finger on his lips.
“I was going to ask you to solve the puzzle to get a special message, but you beat me to it.”
Seokjin frowns, brain dead due to sudden anxiety and embarrassment, then follows Taehyung’s slight head tilt and examines the new artwork on the table.
The icing that looked perfectly meaningless when Taehyung brought it to the table forms the same words Seokjin blurted out now that the sticks are lined up in the right order. Taehyung repeats them anyway, cupping his face with both hands, thumb sliding back and forth on Seokjin’s cheek.
“I love you too, hyung.”
They exchange a giddy glance before engulfing each other in a tight hug.
“My heart is beating so fast,” Taehyung confesses when they end the hug, taking one of Seokjin’s hands to his chest. He looks so relieved and happy Seokjin has half a mind to hold him and never let go.
“Why? Did you doubt my feelings?”
“No, not for a second. I’ve never felt so…”
Seokjin risks finishing the sentence for him.
“Loved?”
Taehyung’s eyes land on his and Seokjin witnesses the moment realization hits him. He nods, expression melting into a defeated smile. Seokjin reinforces the sentiment nonetheless.
“You had me from the start.”
Taehyung chokes out a laugh, squeezes the hand Seokjin still has on his chest. “I did?”
Seokjin’s mind is weightless, soaring high above the clouds. He seeks the curve of Taehyung’s neck with his nose, leaves a trail of kisses in between sentences.
“Mm-hm. Whipped for you. Completely gone. Wrapped around your pretty fingers.”
Taehyung giggles on his lap, head thrown to the side, pliant in his arms. The memory of how Seokjin embarrassedly complimented his fingers when they weren't together yet is one of their many inside jokes; Taehyung is not surprised when Seokjin takes his hand and kisses the pad of the thumb where a tiny scar resides.
“You know that’s long healed, right?” Taehyung remarks, watching the passionate furrow of Seokjin’s brows with amusement while he continues kissing it. “There’s no need to kiss it better anymore.”
“Of course there is! As much as I wanted to, I didn't get to kiss it better while the cut was open, so I have to make up for it.”
They keep talking and laughing at sweet nothings until they remember the Pepero sticks are getting cold. Before they attack, Taehyung snaps a picture of the plate with their hands clasped next to it, fingers intertwined.
“We’re so cheesy.” He scrunches his nose at the phone screen, while both look at the photograph. Seokjin rests his chin on his shoulder and hums in appreciation.
“I love it.”
Taehyung smiles, cheek brushing against Seokjin’s on its way up. “Me too.”
He nuzzles the hair at the back of Taehyung’s head. The faint smell of his perfume makes Seokjin drowsy, faster than any liquor. His eyelids surrender to the sweet intoxication, his lips can’t rest until they meet skin. Taehyung tilts his head to the side, but doesn’t look away from his phone yet.
“I love you,” Seokjin whispers, too low for Taehyung to hear, getting used to how the words taste.
Now that they ripped the proverbial Band-Aid, he catches himself wondering: how come he’s never said it before? He certainly wanted to, felt it course through his veins every second they spent together, yet the word didn’t occur to him until then. To be honest, Seokjin forgets all words whenever he lays eyes on Taehyung. His feet can’t win the distance between them fast enough, and when their lips are finally pressed together, with an urgency he’s never experienced before and that would scare him if it weren’t so obviously mutual, nothing else matters.
He remembers the spark in Taehyung’s eyes when hearing his confession for the first time a few moments ago, wonders how many times Taehyung had wanted to say it but held back. His heart constricts for the beautiful man in his arms, currently biting his lip and typing cheesy hashtags before uploading their cheesy picture on social media. Seokjin vaguely pictures Yoongi replying with the puking emoji, and it fills his chest with pride. He’s always wanted this, even more so after catering for endless weddings throughout his career. It’s an honor to finally be one half of a disgusting couple, to have someone he can kiss so senselessly in front of everyone to the point of drawing uncomfortable stares.
“I love you, Taehyung-ah.”
Taehyung looks over his shoulder and flashes him another dashing smile. Seokjin swears he sees it in slow motion; his heart skips a beat, full high school crush style. So far gone it's ridiculous.
Cheesy pictures for the win. It’s just the beginning.