Archive of Our Own

Renjun hears Jaemin before he sees him. The soft pads of his footsteps hitting the ground, the gentle rustling of his sweater, the tiny “ow” he lets out when he bumps into the door. After a year of living together, Renjun is already more than familiar with the way Jaemin shuffles around the apartment mindlessly, crashing into random things whenever he gets lost in his thoughts.

“Hey,” Renjun puts down the sketchbook in his hands, gazing up at Jaemin with a small smile. “Heading to bed?”

“Mhm,” Jaemin yawns, sweater paws coming up to cover his mouth. “Are you coming soon?”

Renjun nods wordlessly, an apology hanging at the tip of his tongue as he waves at the pencils littered across his table. As much as he would like to curl into Jaemin’s side and doze off slowly to his murmurs, there’s a drawing that he has to rush tonight.

“That’s fine,” Jaemin leans closer, pressing a tiny kiss against Renjun’s forehead. He smells faintly like the citrus shampoo that Renjun had bought last week, his damp hair curling against the back of his neck in small tendrils.

“Dry your hair before you sleep,” Renjun chides, reaching up to untangle the messy ends, brushing them down with his fingers.

“I will, don’t worry,” Jaemin laughs, patting Renjun’s cheek with his right hand. Renjun’s neck is starting to throb a little from looking up, but he leans into Jaemin’s touch nonetheless. His palm is warm, the pads of his thumb gentle as he brushes them against Renjun’s cheekbones.

Jaemin smells like home, feels like home, Renjun wants to throw down his pencil and just crawl into bed.

“Sleep first, I’ll join you later.”

“Don’t sleep too late,” Jaemin pulls away slowly. Renjun aches for him almost immediately; he can still feel the phantom warmth of his fingers brushing through his hair, light and tender.

Jaemin tugs his sleeves down—god, Renjun is so weak for those sweater paws—and he makes it halfway across the room before he is lumbering back again.

“Oh, I totally forgot about this,” he digs into his pocket, holding up a crumpled piece of notebook paper that had been folded into a heart. “Remember when you told me to write down what I wanted for my birthday this year? I noted them down.”

“Oh yes,” Renjun can feel his excitement mounting as he takes the small heart from Jaemin, smoothing away the creases.

“I still don’t understand what you want an entire list for,” Jaemin mutters, brows pinching up in confusion. “Baby, I told you I don’t need a gift.”

“I know, I know,” Renjun waves him off. “You don’t need to worry about this.”

“Alright then,” Jaemin scrunches his nose, still looking a little bewildered. “Goodnight?”

“Goodnight,” Renjun shoos him, veins thrumming in anticipation. Jaemin’s twenty-second birthday is coming soon, and he wants to make sure that he gets him the perfect birthday present.

(Jaemin’s birthday last year had been quite a bit of a mishap. Renjun had ordered matching baking aprons for both of them online, before realising that Jaemin had already bought himself an apron as a personal birthday treat. Needless to say, Renjun doesn’t want to go through something like that again.)

This year, it will be different. Renjun is determined to be the best boyfriend, give Jaemin the perfect present, and make sure that he has the happiest day ever.

“Alright, Chenle,” Renjun slams both hands onto the table, nearly startling Chenle into another dimension as he shoots five feet into the air. “Guess what day it is?”

“Jesus, you scared me,” Chenle shoots him a disgruntled glare, fumbling with his phone. “It’s...August 6. Why? Is it a special occasion or something? Did you finally get your pay rise?”

“I wish, but no,” Renjun rolls his eyes, before grinning triumphantly. “It’s August 6, which means it is one week to Jaemin’s birthday!”

“Are you serious?” Chenle raises an eyebrow incredulously. “I didn’t know that one week before birthdays are celebrated as well.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Renjun reaches over to pull the heart-shaped scrap of paper out of his bag. “I made Jaemin write down a wish list, and now you have to help me decide what to give him as a present.” He had spent the entire night drawing, and crashed early in the morning, so he hasn’t had the time to check the list yet.

“Find someone else, god,” Chenle bemoans, slumping against the table with a pained expression on his face. “I can’t believe I have to watch you be all sappy for an entire hour.”

“Oh, shut it and come over,” Renjun unfolds the heart carefully, making sure not to tear the fragile piece of paper. Trust Jaemin to fold even the smallest things into hearts; Renjun can feel an uncontrollable smile rising onto his face as Jaemin’s messy scrawl comes into view.

Renjun pauses halfway through the list, unable to take it anymore. He should have known that Jaemin, as bold and unashamed as ever, would definitely write stuff like this.

“Oh god, why is he like this?” Renjun complains, but he holds the paper tightly against his chest, a slight blush adorning his cheeks. They have been friends since forever, have been dating since college in fact, yet Jaemin’s antics never fail to turn him into a blushing mess.

“Well,” Chenle tuts, and Renjun doesn’t even need to turn around to know that there’s a teasing grin on his lips. “From what I can tell, Jaemin seems like he really wants you as a birthday present.”

“Shush,” Renjun elbows Chenle in the ribs, but he doesn’t bother correcting him. If he has to admit, the cute figures that Jaemin had drawn beside his name make his heart thump a little faster. It has always been like this—whenever Jaemin writes him a note, he never fails to add on a few of those emoticons, as if he knows just how to cheer Renjun up.

“Alright, alright,” Chenle sighs heavily. “Let’s read on then.”

By the time they reach the end of the list, Renjun is at a complete loss of words. The back of his neck feels strangely hot, and he knows his face is probably flushed pink.

“Wow,” Chenle lets out a noise of disbelief. “He really doesn’t want much, huh? I counted, and at least three-quarters of his wish list is related to you.”

“This idiot,” Renjun is unable to keep the fond tone out of his voice as he folds the paper into a small square; unfortunately, he doesn’t possess the talent of paper origami like Jaemin does. Once he is done, he stares at his hands abashedly, willing the pink tint on his cheeks to disappear. “I swear, he isn’t always like this.”

“Oh, but he is,” Chenle claps him on the back. “He looks at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars. So? Have you thought of what to get him?”

“No, ugh,” Renjun tugs at the ends of his hair in frustration. “He wrote this list like that on purpose. He keeps saying that he doesn’t need anything, that idiot.”

“Hm…” Chenle squints in thought. “What about the alphabet stamps, colourful markers, glitter pens and butterfly stickers? You can get him a stationery pack or something.”

“I can get him those anytime. In fact, I can even buy them on the way home.” Renjun points out. He knows that Jaemin probably wants those cute things to spoil the preschool kids he is teaching; it’s an adorable thought, but getting them would not be anything special.

“Matching mugs?”

“We already have three sets at home. No more, please.”

“Raspberry chocolate, white chocolate or chocolate ice cream?”

“He is just listing the things we already have in the fridge.”

“Alright, then just kiss him a million times. I bet he would be over the moon.”

“Look,” Renjun props his head up on his palm, kicking against the ground in agitation. “All the things in the list are too simple. I need to get him something special.”

Chenle sighs, tapping his chin as he takes a seat opposite Renjun. “Well...he also listed down homemade food. Any ideas?”

Renjun frowns. “I don’t really cook, it’s normally Jaemin doing all the cooking. I can fry an egg though...maybe make some noodles…” Renjun drifts off, before shaking his head vehemently. “Nah, that’s too boring.”

“I have the perfect idea,” Chenle’s eyes twinkle, and Renjun can’t help but lean forward as well. “You can bake him a cake!”

“Bake?” Renjun yelps, his entire body screaming no. “Please, you’ve seen what I’m like in the kitchen. I can't even crack an egg properly, and you want me to bake?”

“No, listen,” Chenle claps excitedly. “It’s an amazing idea. Jaemin wants homemade food, doesn’t he? Plus, it’s his birthday, so you definitely need a cake. What’s better than rolling up your sleeves and baking a cake by yourself?”

“I kinda see your point,” Renjun chews on his bottom lip. “But are you sure?”

“Yes, trust me,” Chenle stresses, a confident smile blooming on his lips. “Jaemin would be so touched to come home and see a pretty cake made by his boyfriend himself! Hell, even I would be touched to see my boyfriend go through all the trouble just to bake for me.”

“Okay, okay,” Renjun mentally flits through all the possible cake designs he can do. He can already think of a dozen different decorations to frost, and at least five things that he can draw on the surface of the cake. The hard part, however, would be baking the cake itself.

“Here’s the thing,” Renjun throws his hands into the air. “How do you bake a cake? How many eggs do I need? Do cakes need salt?”

“Can’t help you with that, sorry,” Chenle shrugs. “I’m as lost as you. Ten eggs, probably?”

“Ten? Are you sure?”

“No idea man. Fifteen maybe.”

“See? How the hell am I supposed to learn how to bake the perfect cake in a week?” Renjun can feel what tiny wisps of hope in his heart crumbling; if he doesn’t give Jaemin a cake he had baked by himself, he doesn’t know what else he can offer.

Chenle gazes at him sympathetically. “Watch YouTube? Follow cookbooks? Oh! Sign up for a baking class.”

“I don’t know if I should really bake him a cake,” Renjun hesitates, but at Chenle’s insistent nagging, he finally relents and digs out his phone to key down “figure out how to bake” under his to-do list.

He can only hope that one week is enough for him to learn all the basic baking techniques.

┌iii┐(≧‿≦ )

Renjun is in the middle of scrounging the house for cookbooks when the front door clicks open. A gust of chilly air blows in, bringing with it the heavenly smell of freshly baked blueberry muffins. Renjun turns around to see Jaemin toeing off his shoes, unwrapping the scarf around his neck before setting a brown paper bag on the kitchen countertop.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Jaemin strides over to drop a swift kiss on Renjun’s cheek. “Bought some muffins on the way home.”

Renjun tilts his head and tries to chase after Jaemin’s lips, but he dodges it with a small, tinkling laugh. “I’ve been out the whole day, let me change then I’ll join you on the couch, okay?”

“Fine,” Renjun purses his lips in feigned annoyance, tugging Jaemin back. “Wait a second, you have marker ink everywhere, gosh.”

“Really?” Jaemin looks embarrassed as Renjun reaches up with a tissue to rub at the purple ink blot at the side of his neck. “Got a little carried away while playing with the kids today. They climbed all over me, god knows where else they drew on.”

Renjun chuckles, spinning Jaemin around to check for any other stray ink stains. The pads of Jaemin’s fingers are multi-coloured, and there’s a stamp blot on his arm, but that’s it. There are, however, seven butterfly stickers plastered to the bottom of his jacket.

“New jacket design?” Renjun plucks out a sticker, sticking it on Jaemin’s nose.

“Yeah,” Jaemin’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, and Renjun’s heart thuds traitorously in his chest. It has been years, yet Jaemin’s smile has never once lost its swooning effect. “One of the little girls gave me all seven of her stickers because she said I looked pretty. What do you think?”

Jaemin stares at him expectantly, eyes bright and filled with wonder. And perhaps that’s why he is a preschool teacher, Renjun thinks. Jaemin has always been exceptional with kids, his childlike wonder making it easy for kids to feel comfortable around him almost instantly.

Looking up at Jaemin, Renjun is reduced into nothing but a melted puddle. He looks so soft and pretty, standing there in his white shirt, with the butterfly sticker still perched on his nose, that Renjun can’t help but press a small, fleeting kiss at the edge of his lips.

“I’ve got to admit that I do agree with the little girl,” Renjun whispers teasingly. “But did you tell her that you have a boyfriend already?”

“Jealous of little kids now, huh?” Jaemin ruffles Renjun’s hair with one hand. “Cute.”

“Hush,” Renjun grumbles, pushing him towards their room. “Change out of your clothes, shoo.”

Jaemin turns around to shoot him a flying kiss. Renjun rolls his eyes, but he still raises a hand to catch the kiss in a fist. Looking at Jaemin’s lithe body shuffling in front of the closet, Renjun sighs.

Yeah, he thinks wistfully as he grabs his phone. He would do anything to make Jaemin happy.

Renjun sighs as he looks through the slots of the available baking lessons this week. After watching three videos, reading two cookbooks and scrolling through google all at one go, Renjun is exhausted. He hadn’t wanted to waste time on a baking class, but he thinks he'll probably have no choice but to sign up for one.

In all honesty, he had never expected baking to be this tough—it always looked easy whenever Jaemin did it. He would hum softly under his breath as he bustled about the kitchen, the smell of syrup and strawberries permeating the air. Renjun regrets not helping out; the only time he had ever walked into the kitchen while Jaemin was baking was to distract him by giving him a back hug.

“What are you doing?” Warm breath hits the back of Renjun’s neck, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He whirls around to find Jaemin leaning against the back of the couch, peeking at his phone.

“Nothing!” Renjun fumbles with the two opened cookbooks, stuffing them into the cracks at the end of the couch. “Have you showered?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin drags a hand through his hair. “Are you feeling okay? You look stressed.”

Stressed would be an understatement. Renjun doesn’t know whether it’s his perfectionism or his will to please Jaemin, but he does know that it doesn’t seem keen on keeping him calm.

“Of course I’m feeling okay,” Renjun leans back to knock his head against Jaemin’s forehead gently.

“Really?” Jaemin narrows his eyes, reaching forward to pluck the phone from Renjun’s hands. He looks confused as he surveys what’s on the screen, and Renjun pales.

Cake baking class for dummies | 11 August 4pm - 6pm

☐ confirm booking

“You are going for a baking class?”

“Um…” Renjun says eloquently, staring at Jaemin as he tries to spin an answer out on the spot. “It’s Chenle! He is kinda obsessed with baking recently...he wants to learn how to bake meringues and macarons.”

“Oh?” Jaemin frowns at the phone screen. “It says that it is a cake baking class though.”

“Yeah, well. Chenle also wants to bake cakes?” Renjun mumbles, angling the phone away from Jaemin as he quickly exits the booking page. In his haste, he accidentally clicks on his browsing app instead, and he can only watch in horror as Jaemin stares at his browsing history with unabashed curiosity.

How to bake — Google Search

All about baking — allaboutbaking.com

What do I need for baking — Google Search

Baking materials — bakingmaterials.com

How many eggs are needed — Google Search

“Um, Chenle is interested to know more about baking,” Renjun says weakly. “He told me to do some research for him.”

“Is that so?” Jaemin raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know that Chenle was so interested in baking! Tell him that he can come to me for help anytime he wishes.”

“Yeah,” Renjun mumbles. “I would definitely come—I mean, I would definitely encourage him to ask you for help.”

As if on cue, his phone screen lights up with an unread message from Chenle.

Jaemin stares at the message with undisguised curiosity, but he doesn’t say anything, thankfully. At this point, Renjun is on the verge of giving up on the entire baking plan, because nothing seems to be going his way. He hasn’t even started to actually bake, but Jaemin is probably going to find out about his intentions already.

“So...are you the one baking, or is it Chenle?” Jaemin tilts his head quizzically.

“Chenle?” Renjun’s answer comes out more like a question. He laughs nervously as he shuts off his phone in one swift movement.

“Come on, let’s watch something,” Renjun pulls Jaemin onto the couch beside him, tucking his head into the crook of his neck. Snuggling is always a good distraction, but Jaemin still doesn’t look convinced.

“Is there something you wanna tell me?”

“No, you idiot,” Renjun tugs the quilt up, nudging Jaemin with his socked feet. “What do you wanna watch?”

Jaemin narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t press on further. He curls an arm around Renjun’s shoulders to pull him closer, until they are squeezed together at the edge of the couch. There’s a big gap beside them, but it’s cozy like this, so Renjun lets himself melt in Jaemin’s embrace.

“Let’s watch Rapunzel?”

“For the twentieth time?” Renjun lifts an eyebrow, laughing when Jaemin nods petulantly like a little child.

“Alright then.” Jaemin’s heart thumps steadily against his back, and Renjun yawns as the familiar Disney intro fills their television screen.

Lazy nights with Jaemin—cuddling on the couch, munching on pretzels as they laugh at random Disney movies—are what he looks forward to everyday, and Renjun wouldn't have it any other way.

┌iii┐(≧‿≦ )

“Alright, we are all gathered here today to work towards a common goal…” the baking instructor, Jungwoo, claps to get everyone’s attention, “which is to hone our baking skills.”

Renjun looks around the small kitchen, feeling lost as he scrutinises his fellow classmates for the afternoon. There’s an elderly couple at the front of the room, a couple of giggling middle-schoolers at the back, and Renjun himself standing right smack in the middle of it all.

None of them look like they are beginners, and Renjun can feel a headache threatening to break through his temples as he fiddles with the baking instruments on the table. There are a few cookie cutters, a piping bag (he had to google “triangular plastic bag”), and a bunch of colourful decorations. Renjun doesn’t even know where to start.

“Baking is all about passion,” Jungwoo is still rambling away as he waves a whisk in the air. “Before we start, I want all of you to share with me why you are here today.”

The schoolgirls at the back giggle, before one of them steps up to confess shyly, “I wanna learn how to bake for my crush.” She erupts into another fit of giggles, and Renjun raises an eyebrow as he turns back to the front.

He doesn’t remember much about how he tried to woo Jaemin in college, but he does remember that Jaemin used the baking trick quite a lot. Renjun would always walk into class to find a small cupcake or cookie on his table, courtesy of Jaemin. He has to admit baking works quite well on him, what with his sweet tooth and all.

“That’s cute,” Jungwoo gestures to Renjun. “And you?”

A little frazzled by all the attention on him, Renjun laughs awkwardly, “No reason. I just thought it would be fun to...pick up a new hobby or something.”

“I’m sure that’s not it,” Jungwoo frowns. “I’m sure you have a better reason.”

A better reason, Renjun racks his brain, what does he even say? That he doesn’t know how many eggs are needed to bake a cake? That YouTube videos just aren’t cutting it anymore?

“Alright,” Renjun takes a deep breath, and declares, “I signed up for this baking class because I wanna bake a cake for my boyfriend’s birthday.”

The elderly grandmother in front of him smiles sweetly, wrapping an arm around her husband’s arm, as if she understands just what Renjun is saying. The schoolgirls at the back giggle, and Renjun can catch them whispering “how romantic”.

“Okay, but here’s the thing,” Renjun wrings his hands helplessly, a blush rising onto his cheeks. “I have no idea how to bake. Like at all.”

“Well...that’s why we are all here, aren’t we?” Jungwoo’s eyes twinkle in excitement as he pulls out a humongous mixing bowl. “Roll your sleeves up, and let’s get to work!”

“Renjun,” Jungwoo leans against the kitchen counter, inspecting the absolute mess on the countertop with an easy grin. “How are you doing?”

“Um...fine?” Renjun looks up from where he is kneeling on the ground, chasing after a stray chocolate chip that has rolled away. “It’s looking quite good!”

“Yeah…” Jungwoo barely manages to conceal his wince when he looks into Renjun’s mixing bowl. “Add a bit more baking soda and mix it well, yeah?”

“Right,” Renjun squints at the concoction in his bowl. There are clumps of flour everywhere, and he can see an eggshell peeking out from within. “Alright. Baking soda…”

At the end of two hours, Renjun can barely even move his limbs. He had spent a large part of the lesson mixing everything by hand, before realising that he could have used an electric mixer all along, and now his arm is throbbing in pain.

He opens the tiny container he had stuffed his cake into, grimacing when he notices that most of the chocolate frosting had smeared along the cover, leaving a rather pathetic-looking sponge cake behind. It doesn’t taste as good as he had hoped it would—Jungwoo made sure to assure him that it was merely because he needed to add a little bit more of vanilla extract, but what if it was the extra cornstarch?

Renjun walks down the baking aisle, checking the grocery list that he had written down hastily the night before. There are two days left to Jaemin’s birthday, so he supposes he would have to start buying the ingredients he would need.

Renjun stops in front of the flour section, eyes widening as he scans the wide array of flour they have here. Bake King...Baker’s Choice...Gold Medal...he has never heard of any of these flour brands before.

It's times like this that Renjun misses Jaemin a whole lot. Grocery shopping is more fun when they do it together—Jaemin always knows what food brands to pick, always has all of Renjun’s favorite food memorised, always knows how to pick the juiciest apples. He likes to chide Renjun whenever he asks to buy chips, but he would always laugh indulgently as Renjun sticks his tongue out at him and piles their basket full with pringles.

As if the universe can tell just how much he misses his boyfriend, his phone buzzes in his pocket, and Renjun holds it up to see Jaemin’s contact name blinking up at him. His contact photo is a picture they had taken together when they went to the beach last year; Jaemin looks pretty, hair tousled by the sea breeze, so Renjun takes a moment to admire it before swiping up on the green button.

“Hello,” Renjun chuckles, balancing the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he places his basket down on the ground. “Have you finished work?”

“No…” Jaemin’s apologetic voice filters through, and Renjun can hear him yelp as he shuffles with something in the background. “Come on, Mina, put that crayon down and let's sit here quietly, yeah? Sorry, her parents are coming late, so I’ll have to wait for a while.”

“Sounds fun,” Renjun can’t keep the smile out of his voice. “Want me to grab some food for dinner?”

“That would be nice,” Jaemin breathes out gently, his tone mellow. “I miss you.”

“We just saw each other in the morning, silly,” Renjun teases, grabbing the nearest packet of flour he sees. It doesn’t matter what type of flour he picks, right?

Jaemin sniffs, but Renjun can picture him in his mind, laughing quietly beside the tiny kid. “See you at home?”

Renjun smiles, warm and soft. “See you at home.”

┌iii┐(≧‿≦ )

It’s the big day. August thirteenth.

Renjun stares at the clock on the wall as he starts taking out all the ingredients from the fridge. It’s three in the afternoon, which means he has a little less than three hours before Jaemin makes his way back. More than enough time to bake a decent cake.

If he doesn’t screw up, that is.

“I can do it,” Renjun believes that everything challenging should start with a self-motivating pep-talk, and baking is no different. “I will bake Jaemin a brilliant cake.”

His voice echoes in the kitchen, hanging in the air for a moment before his words fade away into nothing. As if the world is keen on playing jokes on him, the bag of flour on his counter deflates, and the bottle of vanilla extract nearly topples. Definitely not a good sign.

“Alright,” Renjun tries again. “I am good at baking.” It sounds even worse than his previous pep-talk, unfortunately; Renjun bites back a sigh as he moves towards the eggs at a side.

Hopefully he manages to whip something up in record time, and prevent any mishaps from happening. He only has one shot at this, after all.

It is a disaster. A complete and utter disaster.

Just five minutes into baking, Renjun managed to spill vanilla extract on his recipe. It has been a little over an hour now— there are bits of flour dotting the countertop, cracked eggshells all over the table, and the electric mixer had malfunctioned so Renjun plucked the entire whisk out. It lies sadly on the counter, clumps of whatever is in the mixing bowl coating its surface.

Renjun sighs in frustration, running a hand through his hair as he surveys the mess. He doesn’t know what had gone wrong in the process, but his batter is a whole clumpy mess. He might also have added salt instead of sugar. And he definitely melted way too much butter.

“Lele, you literally need to help me right now,” Renjun grits out as he bends down such that he is eye level with the knobs on the oven. “My cake batter is dying, and I have no idea how to preheat this goddamn oven.”

There’s a pregnant pause at the other side of the line, before Chenle pipes up, “Youtube?”

“I tried it already,” Renjun groans, fiddling with the knob at the right. No luck, the oven is still cold. “This is an extremely old model, so there aren’t any tutorials online at all.”

When they had first moved into the apartment right after college, they went broke trying to buy furniture, so a brand new oven didn't really seem necessary. Only Jaemin knows how to power the oven, honestly; Renjun doesn’t even step into the kitchen more than twice a day. Thinking about it now, he really should have paid more attention when Jaemin tried to teach him how to work the five different knobs.

“Um...try twisting more than one knob at one time? Maybe two at once?”

Renjun does as he is told, and he nearly leaps backwards in surprise when the oven lets out a sputtering sound. Something rattles inside, before a bolt falls right beside his foot. Renjun doesn’t even know where it came from, god.

“Did you hear that?” He steps away from the oven, nearly stumbling over the frosting spatula that had somehow ended up on the floor. “I think I spoiled it.”

“What do you mean? What are you going to do?” Chenle sounds exasperated.

“I don’t know…” Renjun stares at the mess he had created. “Fix the oven, dump the cake in, then clean the entire kitchen because it looks like a pig sty right now.”

“Good luck with that,” Chenle mutters dryly, “It’s nearing five already, what time is Jaemin coming back—”

Curse Chenle and his mouth, because the front door clicks open right at that moment. Renjun swivels his head towards the clock frantically— it’s four fifty on the dot—and when he turns back Jaemin has already made his way in.

“Talk to you later, god, he is already back.”

“I’m home, baby,” Jaemin calls out, shuffling into the house mindlessly. Renjun curses under his breath and shoves the mixing bowl into the nearest cupboard, pushing all the flour and sprinkles into a small mountain.

“What are you doing home so early?” Renjun watches as Jaemin takes off his beanie, tossing it onto the couch. His hair splays in all directions, fluffy from being kept under the beanie.

“They let me off earlier since it’s my birthday,” Jaemin smiles, pleased. “What have you been up to? Oh—” His voice cuts off when he notices the whirlwind of mess the kitchen has been thrown into, “Were you baking?”

“Um, no?” Renjun tries to act nonchalant as he leans against the counter, kicking away an egg shell on the ground. “Definitely not baking.”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow, moving closer to peek behind Renjun’s shoulder at the messy kitchen island. “Then what were you doing with butter, eggs, vanilla extract...and oh god what happened to the electric mixer?”

“I swear, I’ll fix it! Something happened and it started spraying everywhere,” Renjun protests, grabbing the whisk to hide behind his back.

“Renjunnie,” Jaemin puts both hands on his hip, gazing Renjun right in the eye. He has switched to the voice he uses whenever one of the kids in preschool makes a mistake, and Renjun can’t help but feel flustered. “What’s going on?”

“It's stupid,” Renjun turns away, crossing his arms. He was supposed to have the cake in the fridge by now, chilled and ready to be served after dinner, but no, life hates him.

“Come on, do you want to become a baker?” Jaemin laughs, grabbing Renjun’s chin gently with his hand to turn his face back. “Is that why you have been reading my cooking books recently? And signing up for baking classes? You could have asked me, baby, I’m good at baking too!”

“No, that’s not it,” Renjun covers his face with his hands, embarrassed, and mutters quietly, “I was trying to bake a cake for you, silly. You said you didn’t want any presents, so I thought baking a cake would be cute.”

Jaemin’s mouth falls open, hand coming up to pat Renjun’s head fondly when he finally recovers from the surprise. “You wanted to bake a cake for me?”

“Yeah,” Renjun sniffs. “It was a disaster, I should have bought a cake instead.”

“Sweetest,” Jaemin sighs, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. “I am so touched. Come on, let’s continue then!”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Renjun frowns, puzzled, as Jaemin walks over to the hooks on the wall to grab their matching aprons, sliding one over Renjun’s head. He had a huge dilemma over ordering the matching aprons last year—the bolded initials and animals were way too cheesy, but it was exactly Jaemin’s type of cheesy, so he made the order in the end.

“Weren’t you baking before I came back?” Jaemin bops him on the nose as he moves towards the bag of flour. “Let’s continue!”

Renjun refuses to look at Jaemin when he retrieves the mixing bowl from the cupboard and hands it to him. The batter has already hardened into a thick lump of something that looks like cement, much unlike whatever Renjun had been going for.

“Did something wrong along the way,” Renjun shakes the bowl skeptically. “I don’t know what you can do with it now.”

“Hm,” Jaemin looks at it, before grabbing a new mixing bowl. “That’s fine, we can start from scratch. Come on, measure two hundred grams of flour.”

Renjun knows that Jaemin is an exceptionally good cook, of course, but seeing him at work still makes it seem all the more surreal. His actions are fast and precise, and there’s almost zero ounce of hesitation as he bustles about, measuring this and weighing that. It's a huge contrast to the confused mess Renjun had been in just half an hour ago, and he finally manages to relax as he watches Jaemin move about.

“You look good baking,” Renjun grins, trailing a finger down his arm teasingly. “Pretty sexy.”

Jaemin looks at him, unimpressed, as he pours out one tablespoon of vanilla extract. “Focus on sifting the flour, I’ll kiss you later.”

“Didn’t even ask for a kiss,” Renjun rolls his eyes, but a pleased smile rises onto his face nonetheless. “But you better.”

Half an hour later, miraculously, the cake is in the oven and the entire counter has been wiped down. Jaemin fiddles with the knobs, twisting them left and right in a complicated sequence that Renjun still doesn’t understand, before turning towards Renjun.

He crowds him against the kitchen counter, hoisting Renjun up till he is seated on the countertop.

“Hey,” there’s a smudge of flour on Jaemin’s cheek, and Renjun swipes it away with his thumb. He lets his finger linger there for a while longer, cupping Jaemin’s cheek in his palm, laughing when Jaemin presses closer.

“I’m sorry I screwed up your cake,” Renjun sighs, dropping his hand to curl both arms around Jaemin’s neck. “I’ll work on my baking skills, I promise.”

“Cutie,” Jaemin leaves a tiny kiss right below his eye, resting his hands on the kitchen island. “I told you I didn’t need anything.”

“I wanted to give you something,” Renjun argues, trailing off as Jaemin drops another kiss on his jaw. “I’ll make sure to bake you something good next year.”

“Baking together with you makes me happy already,” Jaemin wraps his arms around Renjun’s waist to tug him closer, before complaining, “You don’t ever bake with me though.”

“Baking is terribly hard.”

“I know, but it’s fun!”

“...Doubtful,” Renjun shakes his head adamantly.

Jaemin laughs, gaze so fond that Renjun can feel heat travelling up his spine. And when he finally, finally leans forward to slot his lips against Renjun’s gently, Renjun melts. It’s a slow and languid kiss; Renjun can taste the slightest hint of Jaemin’s berry flavoured chapstick as he curls his hand around Jaemin’s neck to pull him nearer.

“Happy birthday, idiot,” Renjun says, a little breathless, when they finally break apart.

“You just made my entire day,” Jaemin rests his forehead against Renjun’s shoulder, smile impossibly bright when he looks back up. “Thank you for going out all the way just to bake a cake for me.”

Somewhere behind them, the oven dings, but Renjun pays it no mind as he tugs Jaemin back by the front of his shirt to crash their lips together hungrily.

It’s the little things—sharing sweet kisses on the kitchen island, sponge cake rising steadily in their ten-year old oven, matching aprons hanging on the wall—that make Renjun’s heart swell with warmth.

This is home.