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He’s been single for a year now, and he’s been working on himself in the meantime because something doesn’t feel right.
Like, him?
Single?
As far as Junmyeon can tell, he only has, like, two flaws. First, he can be kind of messy. That, however, is a lost cause. He’s come to terms with the fact that that’s who he is down to his core. If someone is going to love him, they’re gonna have to love that part of him too.
The other flaw—it’s just that Junmyeon just doesn’t think it’s right for a man of his age and of his relationship status to be without a specialty in the kitchen. He doesn’t have to be a Michelin-star chef or anything, but if he can do one thing and do it really well, he figures he’ll be redeemed.
This leads him directly to Do Kyungsoo’s mat kimchi making workshop, a seventy dollar class at a baking supply store on Sunset Boulevard that leaves him with a quart size jar of kimchi fermenting in the back of his fridge and a bit of a crush on his teacher.
♡
After their first class, Junmyeon gets email alerts from the sign-up website. Every time Do Kyungsoo offers a new kimchi class, white kimchi, cucumber kimchi, radish kimchi two ways, Junmyeon shells out seventy dollars and goes.
He hangs on Do Kyungsoo’s every word, follows every direction as if it came from above. Junmyeon has never worked so hard on impressing someone before, but there’s just something about Kyungsoo that makes him want to give a little more.
And sure, Kyungsoo is beautiful, dark hair and dark eyes and big stupid glasses that cover the majority of his face, but he’s also just… nice. Calm and cool in a way that Junmyeon can really gel with. Stoic mostly, so when he gives you praise, you know it’s real. He rarely breaks out a smile, so whenever he hits you with it, it’s just like—fuck.
Alarmingly, Junmyeon does see an improvement in his ability even after just a few classes.
“You’re getting good at this,” Kyungsoo says. “Much better since the first time you came, actually.”
Heat floods him, the compliment simmering at the back of his neck. He wishes he could slap the warmth away, but he doesn’t want to have to go wash his hands again.
“Do you think?” Junmyeon asks. “I’ve never been very good at, like, knife things.”
“Well, it looks good so far,” Kyungsoo says, peeking over Junmyeon’s shoulder at the daikon he’s cut already. Junmyeon shrinks a little so that Kyungsoo can watch over him. “Lemme see you in action.”
Junmyeon curls his fingers under, and he cubes his radish as diligently as he can manage with Kyungsoo right the fuck there, observing him so closely. He finishes, and Kyungsoo takes a small step back as Junmyeon raises his eyebrows.
“So?” Junmyeon asks. “What’s the verdict?”
“Excellent,” Kyungsoo judges. “Very neat.” He offers Junmyeon a smile. “Good work.”
Kyungsoo ends the class later that night with a heartfelt little speech about why he cooks, the value of teaching it to others, what they’ve learned so far and what they can still go on to learn, how they can teach others once they’ve mastered the techniques. It’s cyclical, he says, a lot like life, a lot like love.
“Cooking is all about love, after all,” Kyungsoo says softly, smiling.
Don’t I know it, Junmyeon thinks longingly.
♡
After that last class, there is a bit of a gap. He waits patiently, but he never gets an email. Is that it? Weeks pass, and he doesn’t know the next time he’ll see Kyungsoo. He checks, but they never announce more classes. Every once in a while, he’ll think about him, think about the way his brow is usually so straight and serious. He wonders what Kyungsoo might be like outside of class. Just as easy to read? Just as reserved with his praise? If he loved someone, would give them those sweet, soft smiles all the time? Freely? With abandon?
Suddenly, there is a hand waving in his face. Junmyeon blinks rapidly, and the scene settles in. Bar. Low lights. Condensation on his glass. Right.
“Hello,” Sehun says. “What the fuck?”
“Sorry,” he says. “Daydreaming.”
“Uh, yeah, I can see that. What about?”
“You’ll get annoyed,” Junmyeon says, “so I won’t tell you.”
“Not the Iron Chef again,” Sehun laughs. “God, you really like this guy.”
“Well, yeah,” Junmyeon says. He moves his finger over his glass, and the water droplets slip down his finger. “If you saw him, you’d understand.”
“Hot?”
“I mean, yeah, but it’s like… more than that,” Junmyeon says. “The way he talks. The way he stands there.”
“Stands there,” Sehun repeats.
“Stands there,” Junmyeon says.
“And that’s supposed to be impressive to me,” Sehun says.
“You’d get it if you saw him.”
No sooner are the words out of his mouth, Kyungsoo walks by like he’s walking out of a dream. Casual dress, jeans and a t-shirt, his big glasses. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s fate, everything falls away cleanly.
“Holy shit,” Junmyeon says, “Kyungsoo!”
Kyungsoo turns sharply with a startle and when he locks eyes with Junmyeon, he looks as if he’s seen a ghost. Eyes as big as dinner plates. Deer in headlights.
“Oh,” Kyungsoo says. “Oh my God. Hello.”
His face goes completely red, like he’s some preschool teacher seeing a parent outside of a PTA meeting. He walks to the table, hand braced on the edge like he needs to hang onto something.
“Hi,” Junmyeon says. “Sorry, is this weird?”
“No, no,” Kyungsoo says. “I just stopped in for a drink.”
“Did you just finish up a class or something?” Junmyeon asks, heart in his fucking mouth.
“Work, actually,” Kyungsoo says. “Throughout the week, I work at Concerto on West 6th street.”
“Hey,” Sehun interjects, “I’ve been there! The cakes are so fuckin’ good.”
“Thank you,” Kyungsoo says, and looking between the two of them, he frowns suddenly. “Sorry, I should let you two get back to your—”
“Drink,” Junmyeon says. “Just a drink.”
“You should sit,” Sehun encourages, flashing a look at Junmyeon, “sit and drink with us. Junmyeon told me all about you and your special knife.”
Junmyeon kicks him hard in the shin under the table. Sehun, for his part, does not flinch.
“Are you sure?” Kyungsoo asks. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Actually,” Sehun says, wiggling his wallet out of his pocket before slapping a twenty on the table, “I had just gotten a call. I have to get going.”
“Where?” Junmyeon asks.
“Mom needs a hand,” Sehun shrugs. “You know how it is.”
“It’s 9:30,” Junmyeon says. “Your mom needs a hand at 9:30 at night?”
“Moms are crazy, what can I say?” Sehun says. “You two have fun!”
Sehun walks off, Kyungsoo sliding into his seat, and Junmyeon is left sitting there across from him, dying. As Sehun leaves, he gives Junmyeon an exaggeratedly excited thumbs up that Kyungsoo can’t see. Junmyeon sighs.
“I, uh, I really don’t have to sit here if it’s weird,” Kyungsoo says. “There are spots at the bar.”
“It’s not weird, it’s not weird at all,” Junmyeon says. “I didn’t want to make things weird for you?” He rubs the back of his neck. “You, uh, you looked a little shocked to see me. I was wondering if I should have just kept my mouth shut.”
“Yeah, no, sorry, you were fine,” Kyungsoo smiles. “I don’t know, I always get like that.” He shakes his head. “I’m crazy.”
“No, it’s not crazy,” Junmyeon says. “I think, you know, if I did what you do, I would probably get weird seeing students out in the wild.”
Kyungsoo snorts. “The wild.”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon smiles, shocked at just how easily the words come to his head. “How have you been since, um, since last month?”
“God, has it been a month already?” Kyungsoo says. “It feels like yesterday.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Are you, uh, are you running another soon?”
“Sooner rather than later,” Kyungsoo says. “Banchan preparation. Namul, yukjeon, japchae, that sort of thing. Are you interested?”
Junmyeon’s stomach goes tight like he’s about to do something stupid. Without Sehun there, it feels like all his shame goes right out the fucking window.
“If I wasn’t?”
“Then maybe I would pick something else,” Kyungsoo says.
Junmyeon can’t decide if it’s flirting or not. Can’t decide if someone could flirt with such an even, honest expression.
“I like japchae a lot,” Junmyeon finally says.
“Oh, good. Good. I should… uh, I should get a drink, then,” Kyungsoo says, looking back over his shoulder and waving for a waitress.
“Yes,” Junmyeon says, taking a grateful sip to wet his dry mouth, “yes, good idea.”
♡
They walk out together at the end of the evening, the night warm and lovely around them. Junmyeon is hot with alcohol, and he decides he has to get away before he does something terrible like confess.
“This was fun,” Kyungsoo says. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” Junmyeon says. “Sorry again if it was—”
“No,” Kyungsoo interrupts. “Not weird. Very fun.”
“Good,” Junmyeon says. “I had fun too.”
Kyungsoo looks into his eyes, and Junmyeon wonders how much of him he can see. All of it? He hopes not. He wants to be opaque. He fears he is too transparent.
“I’m, uh, I’m gonna set up my next class sometime soon,” Kyungsoo says. "So."
“So... I’ll be there,” Junmyeon smiles.
“Cool.”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and before things can get uncomfortable, he turns. “See you then.”
“See you,” Kyungsoo says.
Once Junmyeon is far enough away, he pulls out his phone and sends a text to Sehun: i hate you so fucking much.
maybe if you say it enough times, ill believe you someday, Sehun texts back, and Junmyeon laughs out into the night.
♡
When he gets the email for Kyungsoo’s class on banchan, Junmyeon’s heart hammers. He forks over his seventy dollars, and he marks it in his calendar. On the way over, he tries to calm his nerves. It was just a drink they shared. It was just a night out. He can’t read more into it than that.
He walks in, and Kyungsoo is busy greeting the other students. Junmyeon goes to one of the open stations, and Kyungsoo comes over once he’s finished.
“Hey,” Kyungsoo says, face even like always. “Good to see you.”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “Good to see you too.”
He walks off after that, and Junmyeon thinks surely if there was something there, something between us, I would feel it. He would make me feel it.
The class starts and after that, Junmyeon is awash in the instruction, the slow and the steady and the precise. The two and a half hours pass like nothing, and Junmyeon feels something slipping from his fingers. What is it, he wonders, staring at Kyungsoo. What is it about you that makes me feel so crazy?
Junmyeon washes his hands again as Kyungsoo is about to leave, all his things packed up as the rest of the students trickle out. There are a thousand reasons not to reach out and say something. There will always be a thousand reasons.
It’s now or never, he tells himself. If you don’t take the chance now, you never will. Do you want to go through life like that? Wondering? Waiting? Just wishing?
Kyungsoo turns back with a smile, and Junmyeon feels like it is his moment. He opens his mouth to speak and—
“You said you weren’t dating that friend of yours, right?” Kyungsoo says, and all the oxygen leaves the fucking room.
“No,” Junmyeon says, “never.”
Kyungsoo laughs, and a nervous smile chases onto Junmyeon’s face as well. “Well, then, I won’t feel bad.”
“Bad about what?” Junmyeon asks.
“Asking you out,” Kyungsoo says. “Unless, you know, I’ve massively misread the signals.”
“N-No,” Junmyeon says, “you haven’t.”
“Why do you look like you’re about to leave this mortal coil, then?”
“I was going—you’ve kind of stolen my thunder here,” Junmyeon says.
“Really?” Kyungsoo asks, eyes like an owl.
“Really.”
Kyungsoo adjusts his bag over his shoulder with a secret smile. “I’ll make it up to you, then. Get out your phone.”
Junmyeon does as he’s told. Quite suddenly, he has Kyungsoo’s contact information and a lump in his throat.
“I’ll text you, okay?” Kyungsoo says. “You can come over.” He smiles. “I'll buy you a bottle of wine. We can cook together.”
“I’m terrible at cooking,” Junmyeon says.
“Nah,” Kyungsoo says, positively glowing, “you’re pretty good now.”
♡