Chapter Text
Nine months is arguably a long time to be together. It’s not new. It’s not fresh. But each second still feels like a chance to explore every nuance, every shade, every language of emotion they both speak. Falling in love with someone has never left Wonjin like this. Slack jawed and doe eyed in front of the boy who once drank expired milk on a drunken dare. The very same one crouched on the living room floor, cleaning the remnants of coffee from the carpet. It’s useless, Wonjin thinks. The fabric should have absorbed every drop by now, and Jungmo’s only pushing the offending stain in.
“This was supposed to be a surprise,” Jungmo grumbles as he still tries to wipe the surface clean with a moist towelette. God knows why there are pieces of broken egg shell neatly arranged in a pile near the stain. Wonjin takes the initiative and throws them in the bin. He walks back and places his hands on top of Jungmo’s shoulder where he’s hunched over. To be fair, Wonjin is surprised. The way Jungmo was making so much noise, Wonjin was already awake enough to hear the accompanying swear Jungmo lets out presumably from dropping the egg. It was at this point that Wonjin felt the need to leave the comforts of his bed and intervene.
A few seconds pass by and Wonjin eventually rests his chin on the top of Jungmo’s hair. He hugs his boyfriend, and the warmth is very much appreciated to stave off the morning chill. “What was meant to be a surprise?” Wonjin’s voice is gravely from thirst and his throat is in desperate need of water, but he couldn’t find it in himself to let go. Cuddles far outweigh everything else in Wonjin’s current list of priorities.
“I was about to make you breakfast in bed.”
“But you don’t cook.”
“I’ve fried at least three eggs for you.”
“And it looks like you’ve Humpty Dumptied at least one.”
“I was trying to be efficient.”
From what Wonjin has gathered, Jungmo must have failed to account for how hot fresh coffee is and his own tendency to trip on air. Why Jungmo was carrying eggs in the living room in the first place, Wonjin will never know. They could honestly go on for 20 more minutes of banter before Jungmo’s legs give in and they both topple ungraciously on the coffee-stained mat. Breakfast in bed, or at least an attempt for it, is a sweet gesture. Wonjin chooses to forget the part where the most culinary experience Jungmo has is cooking eggs and instant ramen. Combined, the both of them have about enough skill to feed a room of struggling college students. As it stands, Wonjin has work, and Jungmo has more cleaning to do. He adores the guy, but it wouldn’t kill Jungmo to have more responsibility.
Wonjin stands, takes Jungmo’s phone, and opens YouTube. “Look up how to clean carpet stains, and I’ll make us breakfast.” He hopes Jungmo can make do with that amount of instruction.
“Don’t think this is over. Prepare to be romanced!” Jungmo exclaims as he gets up. After a little bit of thinking, he adds, “Some time this week,” now that he’s a humbled man.
Living with Jungmo is full of surprises. From spontaneous dinner dates to messy makeouts in the car before going home, Wonjin takes pleasure in diving deeper into the pools of Koo Jungmo. Yes, that includes the messy kitchen he seemingly left in his wake. Wonjin almost regrets moving out of his parents’ house, but he’s not going to entertain that thought. There are more pressing matters at stake. Jungmo never even made it to half the cooking process, but it certainly doesn’t seem like it. A familiar cookbook haphazardly lies on the edge of a counter, only held in place by a greasy spatula that has no business being there. Wonjin picks up the spatula and deposits it in the sink. Another addition to this morning’s mystery is why there are dirty pots (plural!) already soaking in there. Upon closer inspection, several of the cookbook’s pages are stained. Some of them are marked and annotated with what looks like Jungmo’s handwriting:
Wonjin doesn’t like spicy food
Too oily for Wonjin’s taste
Not Wonjin-approved
Heavy breakfast only for busy work days (Tuesday + Thursday) . And as if Jungmo felt the need to add Wonjin’s name in every comment, he added one hastily scribbled Wanjin at the end. It wasn’t even spelled right.
Every recipe calling for tomatoes is crossed out, and the remaining ones are similarly cross-examined.
I love this man more each day, but Wonjin saves it to tell Jungmo another time.