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For Sang-woo, there was nothing better than coming home from an exhausting day at the office and seeing a steaming plate of delicious food already waiting for him at the table. For Sang-woo, Gi-hun’s cooking was the best way to feel the older man’s love.
However, Gi-hun’s culinary skills weren’t what surprised him the most once they formalized their relationship: it was the affection and detail he gave to his packed lunch. At first, the younger man was scandalized, but the events of said first time only made him appreciate even more Gi-hun’s beautiful preparations.
Back to that day, Sang-woo almost threw his cup of boiling coffee against Gi-hun’s face when he saw bear-shaped rice decorated meticulously with seaweed.
“What the fuck?!” Sang-woo shouted, Gi-hun flinching at the sound.
Proceeding to eat the now torn apart ball of rice, the older man rolled his eyes at his partner, “What? I’m preparing your lunch for work, Sang-woo-ah.” And then smiled innocently, retrieving the – quite big – lunchbox from an upper cabinet.
Drinking his coffee in one gulp, Sang-woo stayed behind Gi-hun crossing his arms over his chest, watching with a raised eyebrow how his boyfriend packed stir-fried kimchi, spicy braised tofu, yellow pickled radish, and the previously shaped rice balls in three different sections, accommodating them perfectly inside the polyester object before zipping it.
Sang-woo cracked the bones in his hand to stop him from losing control, somewhat ashamed to bring that to the office. “You expect me to eat all of that? In the... 20 minutes I get of free time?”
Gi-hun grabbed the lunchbox and took it with him to the front door, the younger man following him close expecting an answer. Stopping before it, Gi-hun stretched it to him, the still wonderful smile in his face easing his fury down.
“Yes,” He answered, “Because if you don’t, I’m going to divorce you.”
Taken off-guard, Sang-woo doubled over as he laughed, holding on to his knees when his stomach began to hurt. “We’re not even married, hyung.”
Gi-hun’s hands adjusted his tie, looking down at his lips as he talked, “Okay so we get married and 20 minutes later I’ll make a huge scene at the court asking for a divorce.”
With this man’s humor, Sang-woo couldn’t stay angry for long.
Gi-hun kissed his lips once the door was opened, wishing him a good day at work and promising his favorite dish for dinner when he came back.
Once at the office, he followed his daily routine without problem, signing papers and talking to clients; glancing at the clock every few minutes desperate for lunchtime to arrive. His silver lunchbox instantly drew attention, for two reasons only.
- Cho Sang-woo lived on coffee from the old, rusty kettle in the cafeteria and packed sandwiches from the 7/11 across the building.
- He finally settled down with the well-known Seong Gi-hun.
His co-workers started walking by his office as he opened the lunchbox, his mouth watering instantly at the glorious smell that emerged from the closed packages; from then, every single worker used any stupid excuse they could think of just to get inside the room and savor such wonderful scent.
Getting annoyed at the little privacy he was receiving, Sang-woo tried to calm down by savoring Gi-hun’s spicy braised tofu, only to be interrupted by the youngest accountant on the building. Hwang Jun-ho.
“Hey there, Mr. Cho!” The young boy exclaimed as he took a seat in front of his desk, Sang-woo staring at him dead in the eye. “I see Gi-hun-hyung packs your lunch now, it’s not like you could’ve done all of this with your pathetic self anyway.”
Sang-woo hummed, continuing to eat with his head lowered down, Jun-ho’s last comment making a weird feeling settling in his stomach.
Resting his chin on his hand, Jun-ho proceeded with his teasing, “And, how is it?”
“Good,” Sang-woo answered coldly, grabbing the packet with the decorated rice balls and radish. Which turned out to be his biggest mistake.
Jun-ho immediately saw the lovely detailed food, raising from the chair as he squeaked, “Oh my God! That’s so cute! Is it possible if your boyfriend packs a lunch for me too?”
Oh, boy, that was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Feeling anger and jealousy dominate him, Sang-woo slapped his desk with both hands; Jun-ho almost fell backwards, rushing out of the office when he saw his boss walking around his desk with murder in his eyes. Jun-ho’s associates running behind him once they noticed how big they have fucked up.
“Everyone stay where you are,” Sang-woo commanded in a deep, irritated voice, freezing the office in its place. “I’m getting SICK of your attitude,” He emphasized, tugging his hair stressed out. “Because it’s none of your fucking business if my partner packs me lunch or not.”
The room stayed silent, only shaky breaths audible in the milieu. “Especially you, Hwang Jun-ho,” Sang-woo called him out, a vein in his temple starting to show. “If I hear another word spoken about my private life, or see ANY of you walking by my office again, I won’t hesitate on getting you kicked out of here, understood?”
Several heads nod, but it’s not enough for the dark-eyed. “Understood?!”
“Yes, sir!” The words echoed, Sang-woo’s back facing them before they can react in any other way.
And for the rest of the shift, nobody dared to emit even the lowest of sounds.
Hours later, finally parking at the entrance of his home, Sang-woo let his head fall onto the steering wheel, exhaling deeply as he finally understood the reason why he felt so angry at Hwang Jun-ho’s comments.
He stood there for long minutes, losing track of time until gentle knocks on his window took him out of his trance. Raising his head as he gasped, he found the worried face of his partner, who grabbed the handle and opened the unlocked door.
“Sang-woo-ah,” Gi-hun whispered when he took a good look at the younger man’s appearance. He looked drained. “What happened? I was about to call you because it was past your arrival time.”
“Nothing,” Sang-woo quickly said, grabbing his briefcase and getting out of the car, tripping on his own feet.
Gi-hun instantly catches him, tossing Sang-woo’s arm over his shoulders, taking the keys from Sang-woo’s hand and locking the car. Putting them on his sweatpants’ pocket, the older man guided them inside.
With Sang-woo already seated on his usual spot, but uncharacteristically quiet, Gi-hun bit his bottom lip nervously, serving the red hot soup in a large bowl.
Holding the plate in his hands, Gi-hun put it in front of Sang-woo’s frozen eyes. “Look, like I promised you, Jjamppong.” The older man shakily declared, Sang-woo’s body finally reacting to his voice.
“Thank you, hyung.” The younger man whispered, grabbing the chopsticks and taking some of the noodles in his mouth.
Satisfied with his reaction, Gi-hun walked back to the kitchen to get his plate, seating beside Sang-woo a few minutes afterwards.
Both eat in silence, Gi-hun stealing glances at his boyfriend every now and then, noticing how he ate less and less, until he was just moving the shrimp and mussels around with his chopsticks, a defeated expression on his face.
“Sang-woo, baby, you’re worrying me,” Gi-hun broke the silence, dragging his chair closer to Sang-woo. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
The younger man stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on the delicious dish his boyfriend had prepared. Sang-woo felt the tears stinging his eyes, starting to blink rapidly in an attempt to not burst out crying.
Gi-hun noticed it; of course he did, making his worry skyrocket. “Sang-woo-ah,”
“Am I pathetic, hyung?”
What?
Startled, Gi-hun thought for a second he misheard, only when he saw the first tears streaming down Sang-woo’s face at his silence realized he, in fact, didn’t.
“You, the proud and joy of Ssangmun-dong, pathetic? Are you serious?” He laughed in disbelief, running his hand through Sang-woo’s hair. “Who was the dumb fuck who told you that, huh? Because I’ll be damned before someone dares to make my boyfriend this miserable.”
Sang-woo sobbed at the protective tone on Gi-hun’s voice, wondering – not for the first time – if he even deserved to have the privilege of being Seong Gi-hun’s boyfriend. Sympathy washed over Gi-hun’s face, pulling Sang-woo’s body against his, holding him tightly as the younger man shed shameful tears on Gi-hun’s sweater.
It hurt the way Sang-woo was a completely different person at home; how he wasn’t the all-powerful boss of his department but the sentimental, vulnerable, Gi-hun’s Sang-woo.
“I’d dare say today is your lucky day, Sang-woo-ah,” Gi-hun murmured when the crying subsided, Sang-woo’s face still tucked to the crook of his neck.
“Why?” A muffled voice responded.
“Because,” Gi-hun began, slowly removing Sang-woo from his hideout. “I prepared something… special for us tonight, without knowing any of this was going to happen.” He smiled, cleaning with his sleeve the drying tears on Sang-woo’s cheeks.
Sang-woo grimaced, his little episode exhausting him even more. “Hyung, I-I –” He stuttered, “I’m so tired right now, I just want to sleep.”
“I promise you’re going to like it, come on,” Gi-hun didn’t even let him protest when he was already dragging him to the kitchen by his hand like a little kid.
On the small island, multiple ingredients laid there; the basic ones to make bread, Sang-woo’s poor culinary knowledge concluded. Gi-hun’s hand led him to a nearby chair, sitting him in front of the products.
“I’m going to preheat the oven, just a sec’,” The older man announced, dropping a small kiss to the top of his head, making Sang-woo smile. When he was back, he arrived with several things he didn’t recognize. “Tonight, you’ll be the chef, mon amour.”
Sang-woo’s heart dropped.
“No, no no no no,” Sang-woo refused, trying to run away from the scene, Gi-hun’s strong arms – from recently starting to work out – keeping him in place.
“None of that now, Sang-woo,” Gi-hun scolded him, sitting him back on the chair. “I’m here to guide you through the whole process, alright?”
Hesitant, Sang-woo nodded, an empty bowl is placed in front of him. “Add two cups of flour,” Gi-hun ordered him, taking the measuring cup and filling it to the desired quantity. “Good, now add one teaspoon of baking soda.”
The younger man frowned, watching the several spoons placed before his eyes. “How am I going to know which one is the right one?” He quietly asked, feeling stupid because the answer was right there and he simply didn’t have the strength to try.
Gi-hun, patient as ever, separated three spoons from the rest. “These are teaspoons, but with different measuring, pick the one that reads ‘1 tsp’.”
And so on, Sang-woo added the dry ingredients one by one, Gi-hun being there every step of the way, telling him if he was adding more or less than he should have.
“Now,” Gi-hun clapped his hands together, a mischief smile forming on his lips. “The best part.”
In a separate bowl, two eggs, butter, brown sugar and three overripe bananas are laid. Gi-hun took them out carefully, placing them in a safe area. “Crack the eggs, add half a cup of butter and ¾ cup of brown sugar while I mash the bananas, okay?” Sang-woo nodded, starting to feel motivated.
Sang-woo stirred with all his might the ingredients in the bowl, stopping when Gi-hun added the mashed bananas onto the batter, looking at him with a wide smile and sparkling eyes. Together, they mixed all of the ingredients, dipping the tip of their fingers on it just to take a small taste. Pouring the batter in a greased pan, Sang-woo left Gi-hun doing the last part of their journey, walking to the living room and putting his hands inside his pockets, balancing on his heels.
“Congratulations, Sang-woo!” Gi-hun exclaimed as he hugged him from behind, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. “You just made your first banana bread, oh! I’m so proud of you.”
“It’s nothing…” Sang-woo tried to downplay it, looking to the opposite side with his cheeks burning. “Compared to what you do, this is nothing.”
“For me it’s everything, Sang-woo,” The older man affirmed, leaving a long trail of kisses from his neck up to his head. “What I love the most about our relationship is that I always learn something new about you.”
“Another weakness, you mean.”
Gi-hun tsked, releasing Sang-woo from his hold. “Aish, Cho Sang-woo! Stop being so negative!” Quieting when he saw the insanely adorable pout on Sang-woo’s lips. “And stop trying to avoid a scold by acting cute!”
“Only if you hold me again.” The businessman rapidly negotiated, cringing at the childish tone he said it.
Nevertheless, Gi-hun seemed to fell for it, his arms trapping him again in seconds. Sang-woo felt… special? Would that be the correct word to use? Every time he felt at his lowest point, Gi-hun brought him back to life, and made him feel like he was floating in Paradise – God, how corny –; like he truly belonged there, in his arms, wrapped in his cheap but breathtaking perfume.
“I love you, Gi-hun,” Sang-woo whispered, Gi-hun’s hands stroking his back tenderly. “Thank you.”
Needless to say, there was a reason why the following day Hwang Jun-ho left his resignation letter at Sang-woo’s desk with a dark eye and a bloody nose.