Chapter Text
Sure, Mark might have an unbroken streak of perfect GPAs, even six semesters in. He was (probably) the top student of their cohort. There was pretty much nothing lacking in life for him.
But no amount of ego or dignity would be able to stop him now.
Nothing could possibly stop him from dragging Kim Jungwoo into the bathroom behind the library and dropping straight to his knees.
“What do you think you’re doing?” yelped Jungwoo, staring at him on the floor. “Look, I know I have a reputation, and you’re admittedly looking quite tempting right now, but I draw the line at casual bathroom stuff! Where have hygiene standards gone, for heaven’s sake—”
“Please, take him out, I’m begging you,” Mark rambled, tugging on his sleeve. “I need him crushed, I need him down and out.”
“What are you even talking about?”
“Johnny!” Mark’s eyes were wild, desperate. “I need you to take Johnny Suh out. That’s what you do right? Get them, use them, dump them?”
“Woah, hey there,” Jungwoo said, sounding genuinely affronted. “I’ll have you know that I make use of those boys even before I get them, okay? And I never dump them, I merely… How should I put it. Tell them that I’m going to have to let them go?”
“And they’re never the same after! Look what you did to Doyoung, you’re the only one who’s managed to get him acting like that. Have you seen him? He went and hooked up with Jaehyun.”
Jungwoo laughed in disbelief.
“Shut up, he did not. He finally gave in? Jaehyun’s been pining for ages!”
Mark ignored him. “And that’s exactly what I need for Johnny! I need him to go down.”
“What do you have against him anyway?” asked Jungwoo, raising an eyebrow, “as in, aren’t you guys like ‘ride or die’?”
“Only die now,” glowered Mark, resentment plain on his face. “Friendship apparently wasn’t enough to stop him from abstaining from voting when our band voted to kick me out. My band! How can they kick me out of what was mine?”
“Fascinating,” said Jungwoo, voice saying anything but. “But what’s in it for me? I take him out, then what?”
At that, Mark only turned more desperate. “Anything, I’ll do anything! Aren’t you always looking for an assistant? For your cake business?”
“Tart business,” snapped Jungwoo. “It’s literally in the name. Baking tarts, breaking hearts?”
“Yes, yes, sorry, tarts! Don’t you need someone to package orders, run errands?”
“Well yes, but that’s what all the boyfriends are for.”
“And… and your readings! I’ll do all your readings, even for the classes we don’t take together! Come on Jungwoo, I’m literally begging on my knees.”
“So get the fuck up,” Jungwoo groaned, tugging him back to a standing position.
“Okay, let me get this straight. You and Johnny had a lover’s tiff. And now you want me to help you get back at him by… dating him?”
“And then by breaking his heart,” said Mark, completely disregarding his other words. “Don’t look at how he’s all tall and cool and all that, he’s really just a huge loser on the inside. It’s gonna be a piece of ca- tart. And what do you know, it might even turn out to be kinda fun for you.”
Jungwoo wrinkled his nose. “I’m no sadist. Despite what popular belief says.”
“Alright, fine. But I need him to suffer just a little bit in this finals. We have to knock him off his high horse.”
“Have you considered maybe talking to him?” Jungwoo offered, just as Mark’s muttering a vindictive … make him see that he’s nothing without me, under his breath.
A sheen sprang to Mark’s eyes.
“I’ve barely seen him for more than five minutes. Not since they made him leader. Now he’s just never around. Taeil’s is where they meet for sessions, I guess.”
“Yeah sure, I get it,” said Jungwoo hurriedly, eager to avoid yet another crying boy at his feet. How was it that today was only Tuesday?
“I need to know more about him first though. How about you drop by later and tell me more? Do you know where Hall 2 is?”
Mark grabbed both of Jungwoo’s shoulders, eyes still shining.
“You’re a lifesaver. You won’t regret it, I promise. Plus he’s great in bed.”
“When I said tell me more, I didn’t mean stuff like that!”
*
Hall 2 turned out to be just behind canteen 2, which Mark had only been to a couple times during freshman year. As their third year rolled around and more people began leaving for study abroad, everyone hung out in one big group less and less. He was more likely to eat in his own room these days, or skip lunch altogether until he could get off campus.
Which was why he’d never given much thought to this row of apartments just behind that canteen. For one, he certainly hadn’t anticipated how different it would look from his.
“Oh, wow. You live like this?” he couldn’t help but say, in lieu of a greeting. “It’s huge!”
“Well, yeah, all the older halls tend to be like this,” shrugged Jungwoo. In the background, soft hip-hop was playing over the speakers. “Cleaning can be such a bitch though.”
“I mean, that’s not such a bad trade-off. You guys have A/C and your own—”
“J1! Shut the damn door!”
Mark jumped the same time that Jungwoo did.
“My bad!” yelled Jungwoo over his shoulder, as Mark strained his neck to locate the source of the voice, “and guys! We have guests! No coming out with no clothes on!”
Jungwoo’s living room, which was devoid of anyone, was on its own enough of a culture shock already, coming as he did from his single dorm room.
But we ain’t going home
If fucking you is wrong, I don’t wanna be right—
“-well you heard the man, don’t just stand there, come on in.”
Mark blinked. “Oh. Right.” He stepped through the doorway, kicking off his shoes, and in the time that it took Jungwoo to shut the door, had already scanned the room twice.
It’s all because of you
It’s because of you
It’s because of you
“Don’t mind my roommates, the pollution just sets off a lot of their allergies. The yellow dust at this time of the year, you know.”
A different song was now playing over the stereo, the same sort of laidback hip-hop. Against the strong guitar riff, the same lyrics, in Korean and then in English, reverberated around them.
They opened their mouths at the same time.
“Do you want a drink?”
“-Exactly how many people live here?”
Jungwoo burst out laughing, Mark chuckling along lightly.
It was not quite awkward, yet not quite not. He realised with a start that this marked the first time they were having an actual conversation. They’d simply never had any reason to, save for the occasional passing on of messages.
“Five actually, including me,” said Jungwoo, appearing not to notice anything amiss.
“Wow, that’s… quite a lot of… people.”
His voice sounded dumber than he remembered it ever being. He’d never been someone bad at small talk. In fact, many times, he simply did too much of it. But there was something in the air that was making him feel like a fish out of water, and they ended up lapsing into silence.
“I guess it’s too early for drinks huh,” said Jungwoo as he led them past the kitchen. Mark saw his chance and took it.
“No, not at all!”
“Oh?” laughed Jungwoo, doing a double-take, “well in that case…”
Hooking an arm around Mark’s shoulders, he steered them towards the fridge. “So? What’s your poison of choice?”
Mark stared at the array of drinks before him, feeling Jungwoo’s arm warm and loose on his shoulder. “Uh…”
“Just beer for me,” Jungwoo interrupted his thoughts to say. “Can’t have anything too hard before the party starts, y’know?”
“Then, uh, me too, I guess—”
“Catch.”
He almost missed the can as it came flying his way, fumbling for it at the very last second. Jungwoo had already cracked his open, and was now taking a long swig.
“So, tell me,” said Jungwoo, setting himself on the counter, his indoor slippers clattering to the floor as he crossed his legs, “what can I do to make him fall for me?”
Not without hesitation, Mark joined him on the countertop, letting his legs swing out from under him. The beer sparkled in his throat as it went down.
“He likes… hmm. He likes being made to feel special, I think. And someone who can take him by surprise, someone unexpected enough to pique his interest.”
Jungwoo was pensive for a moment.
“Okay, but we can’t make it seem like too much of a set-up. How about you give me a list of things he’s into? I’ll spin something convincing.”
“Uh,” Mark hesitated, racking his brains for something that the regular person would get. “He’s like mad into the movie School of Rock. But,” he paused again, “I guess it’s kind of a prerequisite to being in the band? Johnny likes it the most out of all of us though.”
“Never seen it,” said Jungwoo, chirpily, “is it any good?”
“It’s—”
“Although that’s irrelevant now, considering how I’m going to have to watch it anyway. Hey!”
Mark jumped. “What??”
“Say, wanna watch it together? I don’t have any orders to fulfil until Thursday, and that was my only class for today.”
“No need to shout, jeez…” In a single gulp, Mark downed half his drink. Jungwoo leaned forward to nudge him.
“Come on now, what say you? Don’t you wanna netflix and chill too?”
Thankfully, Mark had finished swallowing his mouthful of beer. “Fine, ugh, okay. Just stop calling it that.”
Jungwoo beamed. “I’ll grab more drinks. And some snacks. In the meantime, make yourself at home.”
+
Five beers and three bags of turtle chips between the both of them later, they were only midway through the movie.
Jungwoo was a mess of limbs next to him, one leg up on the seat, his arm slung around the backrest cushions.
“Oh my god, nooo she’s gonna walk in, she’s gonna… ahhh I can’t watch this, I can’t—oh. Haha.”
Having seen School of Rock approximately a hundred times before, Mark was free to focus on other things.
For instance: Jungwoo’s side profile, as he stayed glued to the screen.
Not that he’d had any reason to do so before, but Mark was just now being made aware of the fact that it was, for lack of a better word, flawless. Faultless nose bridge, cheekbones high and distinct. Lips nice and plump, dimpling in the centre where his cupid bow sat.
And whenever he laughed: his eyes crinkling into gentle crescents.
Mark had little choice but to notice that specific detail. What was a man to do, watch School of Rock for the hundredth and one time? Sure, it was endlessly entertaining to watch Jack Black infiltrate a school under the pretext of being their substitute teacher, but so was observing which parts could incite a guffaw out of Jungwoo. Some lines even made him double over in laughter.
“This is amazing, seriously, what a great cast,” he said, still laughing. It was a bright, candid sound.
“Isn’t it,” Mark echoed absently, unable to tear his gaze away.
Jungwoo settled back against the couch, bringing both legs up and hugging his knees.
Along the way, they had shifted closer, and occasionally Jungwoo’s elbow would brush against him. Maybe it was the third drink getting to his head, but every bit of contact felt like a magnet on him, prickling the hairs on his skin, tugging him imperceptibly in Jungwoo’s direction.
And when one of Jungwoo’s fleeting touches took longer than normal to leave his arm, Mark made no move to break the contact. On his flushed skin, Jungwoo was cool from the air conditioning, like a stray ice cube skidding across kitchen tiles.
Jungwoo leaned forward to take another sip of beer. Mark realised he’d been holding his breath only when he found that he could now breathe normally again. For want of something to do, he fiddled with the metal tab in his hand, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.
A door to their left burst open.
“Yo, are you— oh, you still have company over.”
Mark snapped his head up. Before him stood a guy decked out in checkered print from head to toe, complete with a scarf in the same pattern around his crop of bleached blond hair.
“Oh right,” said Jungwoo, straightening up. “Mark, Mino. Mino, Mark.”
“‘Sup,” said the guy named Mino, already moving forward to greet him. Mark rose clumsily to his feet to grasp Mino’s hand in a one-arm hug.
“Song Mino, Sociology major. Are you in English too?”
“Yeah. Which year are you in?”
That earned him a laugh from Jungwoo and Mino both.
“I took a bit of a break, so it’s my fifth year,” he explained. “But anyway, I’ll stop interrupting your movie…”
“...not date,” Jungwoo finished for him.
Mino shot him a knowing grin. “Right. I’m off to Gangnam with J1. Just wanted to ask if you were free to come. I guess not?”
Rolling his eyes, Jungwoo sat down. “At least we don’t have to worry about you lot walking around half naked for now.”
Mark laughed, slightly awkward, and took a seat again next to him. “I mean, no shirt is fine by me.”
“It’s no pants, actually,” Jungwoo informed him grimly.
Mino shot them another grin and slipped out the door. When the lock clicked shut behind him, silence settled over the room again. Jungwoo began rewinding to where they had left off. Against better judgment, Mark decided to reach for another beer.
“Oh, and I haven’t said thanks yet, for agreeing to watch with me,” said Jungwoo, jabbing on the button a little more aggressively than necessary, “I know us spending time together wasn’t really part of the agreement.”
Mark waved him off. “Don’t mention it. I don’t mind watching it one more time.”
And that wasn’t even too far from the truth, either.
+
By the time the end credits came on, night had fallen. Mark felt around for where he’d last left his phone. The room was half shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the glow of the screen and a single kitchen light.
Jungwoo gave his shoulders a long stretch before jumping to his feet.
“What time is it?”
“Uhh,” Mark raised his phone to wake it, “just after eight?”
“Are you hungry?” asked Jungwoo, switching on the lights. Mark blinked several times as his eyes adjusted.
“Uh, not super hungry? Though I wouldn’t say no to eating.”
“What do you feel like having? And don’t say ‘uh’ again.”
“I was gonna say, what are you going to do, cook for me?”
To his surprise, Jungwoo simply nodded.
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah, why? Baking’s not the only thing that I know how to do, you know.”
He was being completely serious. Mark was at a sudden loss for words.
“I can see you saying ‘uh’ again in your head, fyi.”
Ridiculously, Mark could feel his cheeks flushing. “It’s just… I didn’t want to overstay my welcome, is all.”
“Nonsense,” said Jungwoo airily. “No dietary restrictions or anything, right? Anything you absolutely won’t eat?”
“Uh,” Mark began, in spite of himself. “I can’t really take dairy. But are you really sure about it? Like really really ?”
“If it makes you feel that bad, you can always do the dishes,” laughed Jungwoo. And that was that.
+
Watching Jungwoo cook turned out to be a lot more than he’d bargained for.
For one, he was a downright mess.
“Should I get started on washing those?” Mark suggested, as Jungwoo dumped a fifth bowl into the sink.
“Sure, knock yourself out,” Jungwoo said, not taking his eyes off the stove.
Soaping dirty crockery always served as a good enough outlet for him to space out, but right now was proving to be an exception. Jungwoo, concentrating on stirring continuously, was working his lower lip between his teeth, which in turn only made it hard for Mark to concentrate on much else.
“You must, uh, do this often,” he said, eyes glued to Jungwoo’s two front teeth.
“Not as much I should, Seunghoon’s the one who usually, you know, who does the, you know…”
It was cute, the way Jungwoo seemed incapable of focusing on more than one thing at a time.
“Hey, careful with the suds-!”
Startling, Mark scrambled to shut the tap, wiping the counter with the other hand. “Sorry, got distracted for a sec.”
Jungwoo wiped the back of his arm on his shirt. “Anyway, this should be done anytime now. Don’t worry, we can always leave that for later.”
“It smells really good,” Mark admitted, despite how unhungry he had been just a moment agp.
And besides, he couldn’t remember the last time he had a homemade meal. The noodle shop he frequented wasn’t going to miss it if he skipped one dinner there. After all, it’s a known fact that humans need rice to survive. Kun would surely understand.
*
“Dude, where were you? We stayed past closing thinking you were gonna show.”
“Uh, I don’t actually work here?” He didn’t have to look up from his phone to know that Renjun was throwing him a glare from across the table.
“Yeah,” said Kun, owner-turned-acquaintance-turned-friend, from behind the cash register, “he doesn’t have to turn up every day. Unlike someone.”
“But still. Regular customers can’t just be, I don’t know, irregular.”
Kun didn’t bother responding to that. “And could you move a little bit faster, please? I really need the cardboard boxes outside, you know tomorrow’s recycling day.”
Muttering ominously under his breath, Renjun got up and disappeared into the kitchen. Mark shoveled another forkful of jjajangmyun into his mouth. An underrated perk of Kun’s shop was how no one batted an eyelid at whichever way he chose to eat. It wasn’t that Mark couldn’t use chopsticks, it was that he simply saw no need to. Forks were peak efficiency. Just admit you’re bad at using them, Johnny never failed to tease.
Johnny…
“Busy last night?” Kun disrupted his reverie to ask, his head lowered over the POS screen.
“What? Oh, not exactly. Something just… came up.”
Kun gave him a genial smile. “No, it’s good, you should get out more. Make new friends. You’ll be out of here before you know it, and then none of this will even matter. Don’t think too much about it, okay?”
Mark grunted noncommittally. He didn’t have the heart to tell Kun what the real reason was, for him to be meeting Jungwoo like that in the first place.
“So, who were you holding hostage yesterday?” Renjun said, re-emerging from the back. A trolley of flattened boxes clattered over the tiles as he pulled it behind him. “Sorry, Mark, do mind…?”
“Oh, yeah, sure-” Jumping to his feet, Mark held the door out for him, waiting till he was done stacking them before shutting the door behind them both. When Renjun struggled a bit with the cart’s lock, Mark took over without hesitation, folding it on his behalf.
“You don’t happen to need a job, do you?” joked Kun, watching them with an amused look. “Maybe I should keep Injun strictly behind the wok.”
Speaking of which… Mark huffed, suddenly thinking of it.
“I might have gotten into a sort of… thing. You could kind of say I have something of a job.”
“No way,” Renjun gasped. “Getting kicked out of your band really had that much of a toll on you?”
“No, not that kind of—”
“But can I get the link? For science.”
“Jun!” Kun laughed reproachfully, “let him speak.”
“What? I’m just saying he’s fit enough to be on Onlyfans. And be popular too.”
Mark sighed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. But it’s a bit more than that.”
With Renjun pulling a whole range of facial expressions and Kun half-listening in, Mark got them up to speed.
“That still doesn’t explain why you guys had to spend the whole day together,” Renjun mused, once Mark was done. “That’s a lot of time to dedicate to a revenge plan. Can’t you just start a newer, cooler band?”
“Don’t listen to him,” said Kun airily as he resumed his work, “as I said, good on you for getting out of your shell. Life shouldn’t start and end with one friend. What a friend he proved to be, anyway.”
Mark didn’t want to admit that he already missed things being normal between him and Johnny, so he just gave another sigh.
“So?” Renjun pressed. “Did you have fun?”
Mark thought it over. “I mean, sure. Jungwoo’s pretty chill. And good at cooking too. I kind of forgot how a proper meal can taste.”
Kun barked out a laugh as Renjun feigned offense. “And what does that make the food I make for you?”
“Don’t terrorise the customer,” Kun said, still laughing.
“I’m never cooking for you again. Hurry up and eat your last ever jjajangmyun, don’t let it get clumpy. And hurry tell us more about your date.”
“Wasn’t a date,” mumbled Mark into his noodles.
“Fine. But do you want it to be?”
Mark wished that Renjun would kindly stop grilling him and told him as much.
“Alright, alright,” said Renjun, as he stacked the rows of chairs onto the tables. “Don’t you find him just a little bit attractive, at least?”
“He’s looking for a friend, not a boyfriend. Isn’t that right, Mark?”
At their innocuous, encouraging faces, Mark didn’t know how to break it to them that it was neither. He hadn’t thought much about dating again, to be honest.
“I guess so,” Renjun quickly conceded, “especially not after-”
“JUN,” Kun snapped. “That’s enough.”
“It’s fine,” said Mark, glumly. He pushed his bowl away and stood up. “I should get going. Probably should get a headstart on readings anyway, now that I still have the time.”
“Mark,” Renjun began, looking terribly sorry. Mark brushed him off.
“No really, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
With that, he ducked out of the shop. The street was already deserted, despite it being just past eleven, giving him ample opportunity to stew in his thoughts.
To be fair, his own feelings about dating were confusing, even to him. His split from Jaemin had not been the most amicable thing. Mark still felt a pang whenever he passed by the Media faculty, doing his best not to give in to the temptation of glancing through the large glass windows of the library. Where they’d spent countless hours working on their own assignments. Where Jaemin would sometimes lean over to check on what he was up to. Or show him his latest batch of photos. Or—
He stopped that train of thoughts from derailing any further. Why was he even thinking about dating? Was he seriously considering dating Jungwoo? But that’s insane, Jungwoo’s supposed to be dating Johnny, that’s the whole point of this entire thing in the first place—
Without realising it, he’d reached the dorm. Not that he’d been expecting them not to be, but the lights were all off. In a fit of petty silliness, he switched every last one on, not bothering to change out of his clothes before jumping in under the covers.
*
Jungwoo didn’t contact him once over the next couple of days. Mark wasn’t sure if that was a thing to be happy about or not. Either way, the peculiar nagging feeling at the back of his mind didn’t ease one bit. But maybe he was just uneasy about the progress of the plan. What if Jungwoo wasn’t interested in going ahead with it anymore?
All his worries were swiftly put to rest the very next lecture.
Unlike first-year students, they rarely had the chance to take classes altogether. Lectures themselves were hard to come by. Most days, Mark spent his time cooped up with thirty or so other students in a tutorial room instead. Some modules, however, remained more popular than others, and necessitated a larger space.
Like this one.
Mark sat by himself, which was fine by him, until Jungwoo came bounding over the moment it ended.
“What?” said Mark stupidly, as something was pushed into his hands.
“A small token of appreciation,” beamed Jungwoo, already skipping away to where his friends were. Mark could recognise their faces, but their names, not so much. Blinking, he turned his attention to the box in his lap.
thanks for yesterday, it was fun!! (& for all your (future) hard work) ~jungpal
Gingerly, he lifted the edge of the lid, just enough to see an intricate-looking tart inside. There was even a dainty cake topper nestled right in the middle of it. Mangoes. How long has it been since he’d had fresh mango…?
A commotion snapped him out of his thoughts. At the far end of the hall, past where quite a few people stood snickering, was Johnny, quite literally rooted to the spot. And in his hands, a giant box, almost identical to the one in front of Mark.
Only it was much, much larger. Mark felt as perplexed as Johnny looked.
“I didn’t…”
“On the house,” said Jungwoo, a beam on his face. The same one he’d given Mark not even a few minutes ago. When Johnny failed to reply, Jungwoo laughed.
“No need to stare at me like that! It’s for you. I made it. But don’t open it here, okay?”
Mark didn’t need to watch any further. Grabbing his things, he turned to leave, not even staying to see Johnny nod dumbly. As the double doors swung shut, Mark tried his best to ignore the chorus of laughter and whistling that was erupting behind him.
*
Alone in his room, Mark took the time to study the tart in detail. He should be putting it in the fridge, but the swirl pattern of the mango was strangely absorbing. It was so incredibly delicate. He pictured Jungwoo carving out each layer, laying them on slice by slice. He had just the fingers for it too, now that Mark thought about it. Nice and slender. Why he had a clear picture of Jungwoo’s fingers in his mind was as good a mystery as any.
Reluctantly, he stowed it away. Their mini fridge was already a tight squeeze as it was. It only reminded him of Johnny’s giant tart box. How was that going to fit in here? What was in it, even? One humongous tart? A tasting box of Jungwoo’s regular-sized tarts? Several of the same tart he’d made for Mark? Was there also a note inside Johnny’s?
Did Jungwoo also sign it off as ‘Jungpal’?
A small, petulant voice in his head assured him otherwise. Johnny wasn’t even familiar with Jungwoo in the slightest! Of course Jungwoo wouldn’t have used a nickname.
Did that mean, then, that Mark and Jungwoo were on somewhat familiar terms? Did he know anything about Jungwoo besides what he’d seen so far? He racked his brain, only to come up empty.
And more importantly, why did he feel a need for them to be? He’d had never shown any interest in anyone before, not like this. Not from their faculty at least. Not in the last couple of years. Not after Jaemin. Hanging out with Johnny and the band had been more than enough. He wished he’d never started that stupid band.
Briefly, he considered heading early to Kun’s shop. But the idea of being hounded by Renjun for further details didn’t appeal to him.
Well, cup ramen it was.
While waiting for the kettle, he scrolled absently on his phone. There wasn’t much, just a couple of notifications. Just as the water was coming to a boil, a new one popped onto the screen.
Kim Jungwoo [now]
- ur gonna break my heart for real
Mark blinked twice. The kettle gave a shrill screech. A new message appeared.
Kim Jungwoo [now]
- you’re not gonna tell me if you liked it or not???
- don’t tell me you gave it to someone else
- unless ur deathly allergic to fresh australian mangos
- but even then
- even johnny has texted me
- to tell me he liked it :-)))
That got Mark’s attention. Leaving the kettle, he shot back a series of replies.
- what???
- what did he say?
- did you already give him your number??
Kim Jungwoo [now]
- slipped it under the tart
- like a pro
- he sent me a text so fast too
- he must really like berries i guess?
Mark huffed. So that’s what Johnny got.
- yeah
- blueberries are his favourite
Kim Jungwoo [now]
- cool. noted
- anyway, time to pay up
- next baking day is this wednesday
- don’t worry, your job is all logistics
- no baking for you, i promise
- if we wrap things up quickly, seunghoon might even have time to cook
- that should make it worth your time hahhahaha
Typing out his response to that, Mark thought about it. Yes, a good meal was never an unwelcome affair. That must be why, as he emptied out the contents of the seasoning packet, he found himself looking forward to something for the first time in forever.
*
“Oh my god you’re here,” breathed Jungwoo, immediately upon answering the door. He threw it wide open for Mark to enter. “Just in time, I’m about to lose my mind.”
Mark followed him to the kitchen, feeling like he should be walking on eggshells. “What’s wrong?“
“I’m a fucking idiot, that’s what,” said Jungwoo, matter-of-factly. “Got the order wrong like a dumbfuck. Now I have to start from scratch and work through the night to get everything out by tomorrow. Can you believe how stupid I am. Like seriously. What the fuck.”
“Hey,” Mark frowned. “I think you’re being a little too harsh on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes.”
“Not me,” said Jungwoo. He was hardly sparing a glance in Mark’s direction.
“Hey,” said Mark again, louder this time. He leaned in close to Jungwoo’s face. “Take a deep breath okay? You’re going to get it done. You even have me here to help! See, everything’s going to be just fine.”
When the tension on Jungwoo’s face remained, Mark placed a careful hand on his shoulder. Jungwoo flinched but otherwise stayed still. Mark took that as a sign to pat it several times, in what he hoped was a reassuring, comforting way. Shuddering, Jungwoo heaved a deep sigh.
“Okay.”
Something seemed to lodge itself in Mark’s stomach. “You okay? you sure?”
Jungwoo gave him a wan smile. “Sorry. I’m not the best at dealing with stuff when things go wrong.”
Mark patted his shoulder again. “No, don’t mention it. I know it is how it is. Let’s get started, okay?”
The nod that Jungwoo responded with did little to ease the knot in Mark’s stomach, but duty was calling. He’d figure the rest out later.
+
When Mark laid eyes on the kitchen, he had to fight not to panic himself. Thankfully, he managed to get a hold of his thoughts just in time for Jungwoo to turn to him.
“What should I do first?”
Jungwoo scanned the counter. “How about the dishes? We need those pans to get started on the crust.”
That much Mark could handle, even if he was going to make a mess of the sink again.
“Sorry,” he said feebly as soapy water went everywhere, spraying the front of his shirt.
“Actually, it’s kind of nice,” said Jungwoo, tilting his head. “Not being the only wreck in the kitchen. Seunghoon gets so mad, you have no idea.”
He said it with so much ease, like he had no clue how much of a paradox he was. Mark thought about chaotic Jungwoo in the kitchen, and then about the Jungwoo from earlier, so tightly wound that he was two seconds away from a panic attack.
“Anyway,” Mark coughed. “What is it that you have to make?”
“Oh that’s the easy part,” said Jungwoo, brightening at once. “Lemon tart. Sweet and simple. Thank god I always keep spare mint on hand.”
“Mint?”
Jungwoo began measuring out cups of flour, scooping it out from different bags. “Yeah, for garnish. Just to make it pop, you know?”
“Oh yeah, definitely,” Mark lied. He dried off the last pan with the dishcloth. “You need any help with that?”
Jungwoo looked sceptical. “Uh… sure? I’ll get out the rest of this almond flour and you can do the all-purpose flour. Two cups will do, and remember to level them off.”
“Like this?” He held out his measuring cup for Jungwoo to check, not at all anticipating that Jungwoo would swoop in and do it himself.
“No, like that.”
Jungwoo was still way too close, his face mere inches from Mark’s. Mark startled a bit and stumbled backwards.
“Woah, careful there,” said Jungwoo, reaching out to steady him. “You okay?”
“Sure,” Mark replied, way too quickly. “I see. So that’s how you do it. Interesting.”
Jungwoo laughed. “You’re cute. We’ve barely started.”
It was in that moment that the earlier feeling in Mark’s stomach dissipated, and like a fog lifting, it became as clear as day. There had never been anything to be puzzled about in the first place.
“…and also, by using 1/8 cup of brown sugar in the crust together with 1/8 cup of confectioners sugar, I’m able to cut the sugar of the filling down to 3/4 cup in each tart,” said Jungwoo, having begun to explain with gusto. Mark was in no frame of mind to listen. “…and then, after some trial and error, I figured that by adding an extra egg yolk to the filling I could get it to be more custard-y.”
“Interesting,” said Mark, faintly. Jungwoo’s hand had yet to leave his elbow. It was strangely warm now; with a light shake of his shoulder, Mark put some distance between the both of them.
“Be right back,” he mumbled, avoiding Jungwoo’s eye at all costs. “Gonna use the bathroom real quick.”
+
Thankfully, the trip there provided some respite, albeit one that was much too short. Joining Jungwoo at the kitchen counter once again, Mark felt stranger than ever.
On the bright side, Jungwoo seemed to have found his groove. As Mark approached him, he was just done cracking an egg into a bowl.
“Don’t you do that… thing?” he asked.
“Hmm? Which thing?”
“You know,” Mark mimicked the action with his right hand, “cracking the egg with one hand?”
“Ah, yes, but not for this one,” Jungwoo murmured, scooping the yolk out and letting the whites slip through his fingers. “This has to be separated, so I have to be careful.” Gently, he prodded the edges of the yolk to get more of the whites off.
“Wait what, can you actually do that?”
“Cracking an egg with one hand? Sure.” In another bowl, he did precisely that. Mark watched in awe as he repeated it for the rest of the eggs, crushing each one in his palm with the same amount of force.
“Yo, that’s insane,” Mark said, curling his own fingers to see how it would feel. “Like actually insane. How is that even possible?”
Jungwoo laughed, though not unkindly. “I’d offer to teach you, if only we weren’t on such a tight schedule. Maybe next time, when we get an order for quiches?”
A thrill shot through Mark at the mention of a next time, as silly as it was.
“Maybe by then, you’ll be experienced enough to try some actual baking.”
“I could try now,” offered Mark. “Unless it’s too much of a hassle,” he added hastily.
Jungwoo thought for a while. “That would cut our time by quite a lot, if we were both baking… Okay. Let’s do it. Follow exactly as I do, okay?”
Mark nodded, way too eager. Naturally, it proved anything but easy.
“Alright, right about… now. That should be good,” said Jungwoo, working deftly with his spatula. “Now we can stir in the flour.”
With his own spatula, Mark folded the flour through his butter and sugar mixture. The prospect of making a mistake was stressing him out to no end, and he kept a strict eye on Jungwoo’s every move.
Jungwoo, on his part, was as encouraging as they came. “That’s right, just like that. Relax, you’re doing fine. You won’t fuck up on my watch.”
Mark raised his head to meet Jungwoo’s eye, to acknowledge that he was following along. Instead, Jungwoo began to laugh.
“Come here,” he said, sliding along the counter so that he was looking at Mark square in the face. “How do you have flour in your hair.” It’s not like I can see it, Mark wanted to grumble, but that thought promptly evaporated the second that Jungwoo touched him.
More specifically, the second that Jungwoo combed a couple of fingers through the ends of his fringe. When that was done, Jungwoo didn’t move back. Mark was staring so long and hard at Jungwoo’s eyelashes that it was a miracle that he was still managing to keep his eyes open.
“You are so tall,” Mark heard himself say. Like the complete moron that he was. Jungwoo didn’t say anything. His eyes were all of a sudden so intense, so unreadable. It was starting to feel like a vast lake that Mark was standing right at the edge of, that if he so much as took one wrong step, he might…
“We should-! Get back to work.” Turning on his heel, he was determined to look anywhere but back at Jungwoo. Instead of his hands, it was his head which he wanted to put under the running tap in front of him. “I’m so lousy at this, it might take us longer to finish up.”
“True,” said Jungwoo. There was nothing out of the ordinary in his voice. “Come, let’s get them into the pans and in the oven.”
Just to be safe, however, Mark resolved to keep a distance of at least one metre between him and Jungwoo for the rest of the evening.