Work Text:
1.
"What is that?"
Minho's voice jars Jeongin out of his self-deprecating stupor. He looks down at the creation in front of him – if he could even call it that. A creation would imply that this was something he made with care and intention, something he thought to bring to life with success. But this...this is more like a freak accident.
"Um. A lemon tart?" he answers, anyway. Well – he guesses. Minho furrows a brow, leaning closer to Jeongin's baking dish. Not too close though – he sort of regards it as if the dish has personally offended him. With the way it turned out, Jeongin can't say he blames him.
"Okay," Minho says slowly. He stands up straighter and fully faces Jeongin this time. His apron is pristine even though they've been messing around at their kitchen station for the better part of close to two hours, and that's including all the prep they had to do. Jeongin is fairing quite the opposite: covered practically head to toe in flour and hardened batter. He's pretty sure he has egg yolk drying on the top of his sneaker. "Let me rephrase that: What was it supposed to be?"
Now that, Jeongin can answer.
"A lemon pudding cake."
And it really was supposed to be. But he thinks he overheated the oven and it got crisper around the edges more than it was supposed to, causing the bouncy center to become way firmer than intended. He's honestly not even sure if it's cooked properly all the way through, suitable for actual eating. So if it was destined to be closer to a lemon bar than a custard, who is Jeongin to argue with the hands of fate?
Minho looks unimpressed. Jeongin has gotten used to that look recently, and he accepts it with a resigned sigh. He gathers the baking dish between his two oven mitt clad hands in preparation to toss it, but Minho places a surprisingly gentle hand on his arm to stop him. "You can't throw it out before evaluation, remember? Not again. I'm not letting you bring me down with you to your steady and strong F average."
"I am not failing, " Jeongin refutes. Granted, he is barely passing. But that's not the point.
They don't usually get graded on evals together even though technically they're supposed to, as they're baking partners – but their instructor got the memo pretty early on that Jeongin was kitchen deficient and Minho just happened to get grouped with his polar opposite as far as oven competency goes, so they're the lucky duo that get scored separately. The teacher still likes to see them putting in an equal amount of effort, though, so she wasn't happy last week when Minho had constructed a model creme brûlée and Jeongin threw his failed batch of burned cupcakes into the nearest trash. That had earned Minho a deducted ten points off of his otherwise flawless score.
"Whatever, just don't get rid of it. If you tell her it's a lemon bar, she might believe you." But even Minho sounds doubtful. It's easy for him to be so laid back – Jeongin glances over to Minho's side of the cooking station to see the apple tart he constructed: golden, glowing, glistening with natural sugars and honey. The apples are sliced meticulously and placed artfully around the browned crust that looks baked perfectly, and Jeongin has to resist leaning over and shoving his entire face in it. As always, it's faultless, and Jeongin can't help but to be a little annoyed. Like, Minho could take one week off from being a showoff, at least.
When their instructor makes her way around the room, Jeongin braces himself for the absolute worst. But she eyes his dessert with less remorse than last week, so he considers that a win. She looks pretty convinced that what he made is actually a lemon bar. He just hopes this isn't one of those times where she requests to do a taste test. She moves along to Minho's dessert, and her face blooms into the smile she always gives to him, like a proud mother towards a loving son. She doesn't ask to taste test it though, probably because it wouldn't be fair, but she scribbles happily in her notebook and moves on to the next station.
Jeongin waits until she's far enough away before flinging his dessert into the trash, sliding the baking dish back onto the counter and beginning to clean up his area.
"You know," Minho starts, tearing off a piece of foil to wrap his tart up in, "you won't know what you have to improve on if you never taste your food."
Jeongin blanches. "I'm pretty sure I would die if I ate any of the shit I made."
Minho's lips quirk up slightly, not meeting eyes with Jeongin. "Won't ever know until you try."
They clean in silence — Jeongin wiping himself down more than the countertop — and make sure all the oven dials are reset before exiting the classroom. As Jeongin shoulders his bag, Minho turns to him, hesitating a little before speaking.
“Maybe next time, don’t preheat the oven so high. No matter if the recipe calls for it or not. You can always adjust it, plus then you won’t get any burns.” He gives a little smile, more like just a slight upturn of lips, before turning away to leave.
It’s the longest interaction that they’ve ever had, Jeongin notes.
He appreciates the little bit of advice though, and files it away for next time. If there'll even be a next time. Jeongin feels closer to getting expelled from this class every single time he attends.
He sighs again, and heads out of the door for the evening.
-
2.
The thing is: Jeongin didn’t even want to take this baking class. But like every other problem in his life, it starts and ends with his roommate Jisung, who insisted that Jeongin needed a different hobby than just camping out on their couch playing video games or going to the gym. So he signed Jeongin up for cooking classes himself.
He doesn’t hate it, per se — but he’s not too keen on doing things he isn’t good at. He could've just left after the first session if he really wanted to, but along with Jisung taking initiative with signing him up for the class, he also took it upon himself to use Jeongin's payment information. Asshole. So he figures if he's paying for it, he might as well get the best out of it.
And it is sort of fun. Jeongin likes the fact that he's learning a lot while he's there, even if it doesn't particularly show in the results. He knows how to operate an oven on basic terms now, for instance. He can turn the dial and set the timer, which is really only something he saw his mom do when he was a kid. He can handle lining a baking sheet and buttering a cake pan in prep for the batter. The preparation is the sort of easy part. The execution is, well. He's still working on that.
The other thing is that Jeongin has no idea why Minho is taking this baking class. He's clearly more kitchen savvy than the majority of the students, and Jeongin sometimes can envision him as the instructor, even. He never messes up on any of the dishes they're taught to make and he always is one step ahead of their teacher before she introduces the next part to the recipe. He seems nice enough, in Jeongin's opinion: he answers Jeongin's small inquiries whenever he needs help with a measurement or if a step on the recipe is unclear, and he doesn't get too annoyed if Jeongin spills something onto his side of the cooking station. He always laughs quietly to himself when Jeongin makes a mistake, probably thinking the younger can't hear it. But it's not in bad intention and always sounds amused more than anything.
They don't talk much with each other, not really having a ton of time to, since Jeongin is always so focused on not messing things up. But they work well enough with each other to share comfortable silences.
Today the theme for the class settles on chocolate, an element that barely won over vanilla in the class vote of eight to six. Everyone figured that vanilla would be too broad and easy, but chocolate was supposed to leave more room for creativity. Jeongin disagrees. Both of them are equally as difficult to incorporate. He decides on a tray of brownies, because that seems easy enough, right? Right. He grabs the recipe card from the box in the front of the room, heading to the class refrigerator at the opposite end of the room. He barely makes it back to his station without breaking any of the eggs he's holding. (Again. That had happened during the first week, and his instructor had been pissed.)
The beginning of the process goes pretty well, Jeongin thinks. Sure, the batter is not as smooth as it could be, but give him a break. He's only ever made brownies out of the box.
He reaches to add more water into his batter as he mixes in an attempt to thin it out a little bit, and reaches for the 1/2 measuring cup. It seems like Minho knows what he's up to before he even gets to fill it.
"Do not," he says simply. Jeongin meets eyes with him, and Minho raises a brow. "If you add any more water to those brownies, they won't make it out of the oven fully baked." He pauses. "And they'll be gross, probably."
Jeongin makes a face. It's not like he doesn't trust Minho, but – "it's too thick still. And some of the batter is still dry."
"You're mixing it weirdly." Minho takes the bowl and rubber spatula from Jeongin's hands and starts to mix it himself. He tilts the bowl slightly and mixes the batter much quicker than Jeongin had been doing, wrist moving expertly. The dry bits of flour get coated evenly in a matter of minutes, and Minho places the bowl back in front of Jeongin, perfectly and properly mixed. He barely looks at Jeongin when he gives it back, just picks his own spoon back up and goes back to whipping up the frosting for his lunchbox cake.
Jeongin appreciates the gesture nonetheless. "Thank you," he murmurs, and Minho just gives a curt nod. He pours the batter into the baking dish, making sure to scrape as much as he can into the tray before sticking it in the oven (not overheated, following Minho's wise words from the other week).
When the baking time passes and he takes the brownies out, Jeongin is hopeful. They sit on the cooling rack for a bit before he cuts into the steaming treat to divide it. He looks over at Minho who is dutifully icing his mini cake, adding swirls and other designs to it. He even has it propped up on one of the small rotating stands, tongue peeking between his teeth as he focuses to ice it.
"That looks really good," Jeongin says truthfully. It really does. He wants to cut a slice and stuff his face with the chocolate cake, fudgy and soft. Minho smiles, eyes lightly twinkling as he grates an orange over the cake to sprinkle it with citrusy zest.
"Thanks," he seems genuinely grateful for the compliment. "I'm sure your brownies will turn out great, too."
(They do not. It's nearly impossible for Jeongin to cut through the giant slab of chocolate, so the squares he attempted to carve come out looking more like triangles. He does take a piece off of the corner though, and it's not bad. It's definitely not good, though. But his teacher gives him a decent score for effort and actively not burning anything this week. A small but certain victory, in Jeongin's book.)
-
3.
Scones this week. The theme for the class is simple enough. The twist? Every baking partner duo is supposed to score each other instead of their instructor.
Jeongin knows how this will end.
They decide on a savory type of scone, zucchini with cheese, to take a break from the copious amounts of sugar they've been using in the weeks prior. Even though they're used to making things separately, this feels like intensely more pressure now that Minho is going to be up close and personal with Jeongin's kitchen disaster. Minho can tell he's on edge, with the strange looks he keeps giving Jeongin while he grates the zucchini he has in his hand, essentially in a death grip.
"Why do you look so nervous?"
"I'm trying not to cut my fingers," Jeongin answers without taking his eyes off of the metal object he's holding. Minho snorts.
"With the way you're holding that thing it wouldn't surprise me if you cut your whole hand off." His voice softens a little. He steps behind Jeongin slightly. "Here, like this. Just don't hold it so hard." Minho places one hand on top of Jeongin's that's holding the handle of the grater, the other hand on top of his that's holding the vegetable. "Don't push it down so hard or else it won't shred. Just let it glide off."
Jeongin tries not to feel weird about it. But Minho is right behind him, and his voice is right in Jeongin's ear, guiding and gentle. He's standing so close that Jeongin can smell the butter on Minho's hands that he had been cubing up minutes before, mixed with the muted scent of soap and rosemary. He tries to keep his shoulders relaxed and breathing even. God. He feels like he's standing in the middle of one of those stupid cheesy romance dramas that he knows Jisung watches when no one's around. Minho is saying something else but Jeongin can't concentrate on the sound, too focused on the soft and lilting tone of Minho's words.
"–it should look like that. Okay?"
Jeongin blinks. "Uh, yeah, okay." he has no idea what he's agreeing to. Minho lets his hands go and steps away, going back to cubing the butter. He can't help but to ask his next question. "Why are you helping me? Aren't we supposed to be doing it separately?" he hopes it doesn't come out mean. He just isn't sure why Minho is inclined to assist him, knowing that whatever he makes will come out bad anyway.
The older raises a brow. "You couldn't even grate that zucchini without popping a blood vessel and you want me to just sit here and watch you do this on your own?"
Jeongin sputters indignantly. "I was doing fine! It was making it in the bowl, at least." He only notes the whiny tone of his voice once the words are fully out, and Minho tries and fails to hold back a laugh.
"Uh huh," Jeongin watches Minho start to cut up thin slices of cheese. "Well I'll do my own thing, but if you need help, just ask."
Jeongin has something to prove, though. He's nothing if not a little bit competitive. So he continues on through the recipe on his own, only asking Minho to pass him a tool or two or to hand over the salt. By the time the scones make it into the oven he's antsy, and as soon as they finish cooking he starts to panic. They both line big plates with their scones, trading them off and facing each other to evaluate. Jeongin takes a bite of Minho's first. It's warm and soft, fluffy in his mouth and perfectly seasoned and salted. The cheese melts in with the zucchini and herbs on the inside, and Jeongin almost shoves the entire thing in his mouth. It's delicious.
He starts to tell Minho how good it is, but his mouth is full and that would probably be a little gross, so he just shoots him a thumbs up, cheeks full. Minho smiles in return, a different type of smile than Jeongin's seen before – it's big and bright, so genuinely appreciative. He scribbles a few things on his scoring card before he gets caught staring too long.
Minho reaches out a hand for a scone, but he takes one of his own instead of Jeongin's.
"You're supposed to be eating mine," Jeongin says with a laugh. Minho tears off a piece of the treat and puts it in his mouth.
"No offense, man, but I am not eating any of these."
"How else are you gonna know if it's good or not?"
Minho picks up a scone off of Jeongin's plate and taps it against the countertop a couple of times. The sound is solid and loud, almost like he's tapping a brick. "This is hard as a rock, Jeongin. I could brain someone with this thing."
Jeongin stares. He doesn't understand how they could come out that bad. "I don't get it. I followed the recipe exactly ."
"Too much baking powder, maybe," Minho replies easily with a shrug, breaking off another piece of his fluffy scone easily. He holds it out to Jeongin who just stands there, lips slightly parted, and Minho takes the initiative to put the bread in his mouth himself. His fingertips brush the underside of Jeongin's bottom lip and his chin, and he tries not to flinch back and blush. "I'll give you a ten for effort, though. Your overall score is maybe a three."
"Now you're just being mean."
"A four, maximum. They're completely inedible."
"Looks always factor into the score, though. If you didn't try to eat one, they still look pretty good." Jeongin reasons. Minho gives him a flat look.
"Okay. A five, and even that's pushing it." Minho scrawls his notes down onto his scorecard.
Jeongin will have to take it.
-
"Jeongin, you can't be serious."
"It's harder than it looks, okay?" He says, shifting the yolk from one eggshell to the other. Who the hell even figured out that you'd need to separate egg whites from the yolks? They should be used together, isn't that why they're both in the same egg? Jeongin hates this.
Minho laughs from next to him, the sound of bells tinkling. He can't even bring himself to be mad that he's being made fun of, not when Minho's giggles fill his ears and make him smile despite himself. Jeongin sighs in frustration.
"You do it."
They're making cream puffs this time, and up until now, it's been fine. Jeongin was able to roll out the dough, shape it into small little spheres and line them on the baking sheet. No problem. But as soon as they get to the egg wash, Jeongin starts to have issues. He's starting to develop a hatred for eggs.
"Come on, it's not that hard." Minho says and Jeongin picks up another egg. "Crack it open and just go slow so you don't drop it. You can do it, Innie."
He's taken to calling Jeongin that recently. It's not even a special nickname or anything, plenty of his friends address him the same way, but it feels slightly different when it's coming from Minho. He's so distracted that he doesn't even realize his hands are moving after he puts a break in the delicate eggshell, moving the half shells to drain the egg whites out. It all goes well – until one slips out of his hand and right into the bowl of yolks.
"Dammit."
Minho takes the eggshell out. "Okay, I'll do it. Let me have it."
Thank god. Jeongin practically shoves the egg into Minho's hands, wiping his own on his apron and moving aside. He watches Minho's nimble fingers hold the egg, break it open and separate the insides. It takes all of five seconds.
"Are you kidding me."
The laugh he gets in return is loud and bright, Minho throwing his head back as he cackles. "You always think too much when you're making something because you're so afraid to mess up," Minho says, dipping the rubber brush into the yolks to start coating the dough with egg wash. Jeongin's eyes are drawn to the way Minho's lashes flutter out over his cheeks, the slope of his nose, the pout of his mouth. "Just don't stress about it so much. It's just a baking class."
"Yeah, that I'm getting an F in," Jeongin scoffs. "Also, easy for you to say. You can make anything perfectly with your hands tied behind your back."
"Would be kinda hard for me to use any kitchen tools then, wouldn't it?" But Jeongin can see the pinking of Minho's cheeks and on the tips of his ears at the compliment. He finishes with the egg wash, setting the little bowl aside and brandishing the cream puffs to Jeongin. "The hardest part is over. Go stick these in the oven."
Jeongin takes the baking tray in his hands, trying not to concentrate too hard on the way their fingers linger on each other's when he grabs it, hauling it over to the oven.
-
The week before the baking class draws to a close, their instructor decides to have all of the students make a class cake. All of the pairs have to make one component separately and then assemble it all together at the end as part of the 'bonding experience'.
Admittedly, Jeongin is a little bit sad that after next week, he won't be coming to class anymore. (He could sign up for the second session, but the more he thinks about it the more he knows he'd regret it. He's gotten enough oven burns over the past two months to last a lifetime.) He's also a little sad that he won't be seeing Minho on Wednesday nights anymore. It's become such a part of his weekly routine at this point to come to baking class, to bicker with Minho around their shared countertop space, to try not to say anything overly embarrassing in front of him.
The two of them are working on the icing portion of the cake, making buttercream frosting from scratch. Jeongin is moving around with Minho's guidance, really just assisting, and he feels more inclined to just let him handle it. He goes to turn the mixer off once the icing seems smooth enough, ready to scoop it out, but Minho stops him.
"It's not ready,"
"It looks ready."
"You barely put any sugar in it! It's just all cream and butter, you need to add other things." Minho shakes his head. "Aren't you paying attention to the recipe at all?"
Truthfully, Jeongin hasn't. Minho has been hyper focused on getting the icing right because it's going to be used for a class project, so Jeongin has taken the opportunity to just watch Minho while he works – how dexterous he is with his hands and how quickly he throws things together, like magic.
"Well it is buttercream frosting, so." Jeongin says back. Really, just for the sake of arguing.
Minho raises a brow. "Okay," he takes a teaspoon and dips it into the mixing bowl, grabbing a small dollop. "Taste it then."
Jeongin reaches for the spoon to take, but Minho holds it away a bit so Jeongin can't grab it. He waves the spoon in front of Jeongin, a stupid smile on his face. "Say ah."
Jeongin rolls his eyes, but complies. They meet eyes as the cool metal of the spoon passes through his lips, tangy frosting coating his tongue. He absently registers their close proximity, how Minho has a hand under his chin, how he can see the tiny mole on Minho's nose from here and the elegant way his eyelashes frame his eyes. He swears his heart doesn't skip. Minho's eyes twinkle as he looks up at Jeongin, lips twitching like he's trying not to smile.
He swallows, and the moment is immediately shattered.
"Wow. That is fucking disgusting."
Jeongin is grateful that Minho withholds the 'I told you so' that he knows is lingering on the tip of the older's tongue. They continue on the frosting, Minho adjusting the speed on the mixer while Jeongin adds sugar in bit by bit. Right at the last second, Minho leans in slightly to see how much sugar they have left to spare, his hand jostling forward just so – and increases the speed of the mixer from low to high, splattering icing everywhere.
It only takes a split second for him to shut it off, but the damage has already been done: there's frosting all over the counter, his hands – and all over the front of Jeongin's apron and shirt. He has small flecks of frosting on his chin and even on his cheek, and Minho presses a hand to his mouth to hold in his laugh. It barely works.
"Oh my god," he sounds pained from trying not to laugh at Jeongin's shocked face, eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise. "I am so sorry." He breaks into laughter at the last syllable of his apology, completely negating any sense of sincerity. A couple of their classmates are stifling laughter behind their palms too, which makes Minho feel a little annoyed that they're laughing at Jeongin. That's his job.
"It's okay," Jeongin says, voice devoid of emotion, except he looks like he's trying not to break into laughter, too. "It was an accident." He takes a napkin and gets the majority of the cream off of his front, but he still has some lingering around his cheek and mouth.
Minho points at his own face to signal to Jeongin. "You have frosting right there,"
"Where?" Jeongin asks, his voice deceptively sweet. And it's as quick as lightning – he brushes his fingertips over Minho's cheek, covered in icing and spreads it across the elder's face. "There, you mean?" His face splits into a smile and Minho reaches out to shove him, getting more icing all over the place – and they only cease when their instructor starts to give them dirty looks from across the room.
They wipe their faces off, slightly sticky before they wash their hands and get started on remaking the next batch of icing, sharing small and private smiles all the while.
-
+1
"Hey,"
Minho looks up from where he's wiping down the cooking station one last time before they all pack up for the night, meeting eyes with the container Jeongin is holding in his hands. "Hey. What's that?"
Jeongin fidgets, suddenly nervous. "Uh, it's a gift. For you." he holds the container of cookies out and essentially pushes it at Minho. Jisung had made fun of him when he made them last night, declining Jeongin's attempts at asking for help in favor of making teasing remarks and childish kissing sounds at him the whole time. It took hours, and four whole cylinders of pre-packaged cookie dough for him to get a decent amount of them to not taste like slices of cardboard. He burned his hand twice, and dropped the baking sheet on his foot every single time he took it out of the oven. "Just like, as a thanks for helping me in this class. I know it probably wasn't easy." he laughs a little, the sound wavering with nerves around the edges.
Minho is still just standing there, flickering his eyes back and forth between Jeongin's hands and his face. "Oh," he replies simply, and Jeongin feels a little dumb.
"I mean, you don't have to take them. I just figured I would –"
"No, no," Minho says quickly and moves to take the container from Jeongin. "I'm – I was just surprised, that's all. This is really sweet of you." Jeongin notices that Minho's hands are laying over his own on the handle and side of the container. He gives a little smile erring on the side of mischievous, eyes shining. "Are these even edible?"
Jeongin huffs a laugh. "This time, yeah."
"Did you make these yourself?"
"Well," Jeongin starts. "I did put them on the baking pan and then into the oven. So I think that counts as me making them by myself." Minho laughs. "Seriously, thank you. You were a big help."
"I didn't mind," Minho says gently. He tilts his head a bit, looking at Jeongin from under his bangs. "You're pretty cute when you have no idea what you're doing. And even though you have no idea what pre-heating the oven even means."
Jeongin makes an indignant sound. "I mean, I do now."
"Come on," Minho grabs his bag, signaling Jeongin to follow. "Let's share the cookies. I can even score you on them, if you want."
"I'm expecting a perfect score of ten." Jeongin steps closely behind Minho and trials after him out of the door. Minho snorts, but reaches behind him to grab Jeongin's free hand and laces their fingers together without looking.
"Don't push it."