Work Text:
Matthew might be a daredevil.
Risks? They don’t send shivers down his spine, nor does it make his body tremble. Quite the opposite, actually. He’s always been a risk taker, his strong belief of not taking anything for granted leaves residue on every action he makes. From accepting tasks where he has little to no experience with but brushing it off with doubtful reassurance from himself. A hagridden chuckle washes away those fears. He doesn’t know how he does it.
Even sometimes, it’s a life-or-death situation because of these ventures. “Oh, you want to ride that soul-snatching rollercoaster this weekend? I’m terrified of heights, but I’ll go!”, “You need help potentially ruining this person’s life because they hurt you? Seems unethical, but why not, am I right?”
It’s a game of chances, he may end up with a broken leg or a bruised heart, maybe even both, but Matthew will take it. Will endure it, ignore the pain, and live life to the fullest. Who knows, it may end up well.
Now, aren’t those moments where luck shone through his decisions. He remembers, it doesn’t always end up as he thinks it would. However, there’s something unlike to the nonchalance his brain feels in a situation when terrible outcomes start to reveal themselves. His soul has been a victim of a robbery, and he’s tiny, sitting on the staircase of the school gymnasium.
Year-end parties.
Everyone looks forward to it. When Matthew walks through the hallways a week before the school’s long awaited year-end party night comes, it’s a sight similar to parties like homecomings in movies. Frantic people worrying about their outer appearance and if their dresses are the perfect one to wear for this so-called special night. Some students walking around, their eyes glued to a notebook with their agendas, discussing the flow of the party and the decorations. And of course, it wouldn’t be an exclusive night if there aren’t any people stressing about a date.
Matthew finds nothing special about ending a year with a party, like he does with prom. It’s an event where people gather around and party nonstop. It doesn’t matter, Matthew tells himself. But, when a certain someone approached him with a suspicious box of chocolates on his right hand, and fake flowers on his left, more students bunching behind him holding up a banner that says…
“Matthew, will you be my date?”
His risk-taking mind doesn’t render or think, immediately saying, “Yes.”
Cheers surround him, and a smiley Hanbin mutters a ‘thank you’ before handing out high fives to his friends that held up the banner.
Matthew freezes against his locker, never in his life would he expected the Sung Hanbin, the hot jock from the varsity league would ask him out. He doesn’t have strong feelings for him, but Hanbin would be an idealistic type for Matthew. He’s the social definition of perfect; he’s good-looking, smart, funny, and has a kind heart too.
And Matthew scored him, woah he just did that.
His knees wobble, struggling to wipe away the smile on his face, ending up with it staying for the whole day. The confession boosted him to improve himself in every aspect possible to change in his physique. Changing his physical build, how his smile widens, how his accent switches between Korean and English, the unexpected jokes he blurts out tenanted his week. And Matthew can’t even recognize himself in the mirror.
That was a hyperbole. Yes, he can. His nettlesome personality stood out for him the most, so he changed it, lowered it down a notch. He wouldn’t want to trouble his date with his annoying antics and scare him away because of his straightforwardness. No, he won’t, it’s already hard for him to have people take interest in him.
When Matthew heard the fast knocking on the door, he dashed through the living room, almost tripping over because of a shirt that lost its way to his laundry basket, taking a stop at the mirror placed in the room for convenience to check if he’s well presented. He opens the door, and he’s met with a ravishing Hanbin. He’s always knocked Matthew off his feet, but with his hair styled in an undercut, a suit that hugs his waist and broad shoulders perfectly, the mistletoe brooch for added style, and the slanted bowtie Matthew wants to reach out to and fix it—but he’s steady, exchanging smiles as they stand in silence—he’s ten times more attractive.
“You look good.” They say in unison, their faces turning beet red at the realization.
Hanbin extends his hand, waiting for Matthew to take his hand, a sweet smile showing when Matthew complies. They walk hand-in-hand, the corner of their mouths reaching their ears, and Matthew feels a bubbly feeling mixing in his chest. Hanbin has showed signs of him being a gentleman, and he can’t wish for an even more perfect date. He even opened the car door for him. Matthew’s heart melts.
The night brightens Hanbin’s face that it makes Matthew think Hanbin and the moonlight a perfect pair.
Matthew’s ears bleed at the music. But at least the decorations are cool, the balloons hanging on the ceiling spelling out their batch year, the color scheme, and the people dressed in fancy night gowns and suits. So, this is what it’s like. Matthew guesses it’s similar to prom. It would’ve been perfect and akin to the clichéd scenario Matthew has planned if Hanbin didn’t let go of his hand when he found his friends approaching them.
They greet each other like the usual. Matthew stands there, dumbfounded and avoiding eye contact with Hanbin’s friend group when they gaze him. He glances at Hanbin, signaling his discomfort with the expectant look he shoots him.
Hanbin got the hint, but at what cost? When all he managed to say was, “This is Matthew.”
A bunch of eyes glance at each other, all showing different reactions. Matthew wonders why he hadn’t mentioned the fact that he was Hanbin’s date. Is he embarrassed to have taken Matthew in this evening that is every high school romanticizer’s fantasy? Nonetheless, Matthew waves at them, feeling looked down on and shyness shows itself.
When one of his friends laughs out of nowhere, and the rest follows, a troubling feeling coils up in his stomach. He excuses himself from the group, sprinting to the dessert bar. He picks up a brownie and munches on it out of frustration and wonder. If there’s anything Matthew is an expert at, it’s overthinking. A contradictory to his risk taking. He starts thinking and using his brain once the probability of a failure increases.
He stays hidden in the corner, near the staircase for almost half an hour. And Matthew starts to question himself if Hanbin ever did want to bring him as his date, a conclusion will be made if Hanbin takes more than an hour to look for Matthew. Isn’t he worried?
And now, a soulless body is sitting on the staircase of the school gymnasium, crumbs of chocolate brownies on either side of his mouth. He wants to run away, but the crack in his heart lights up with hope, a flickering light though. Slow music replaces the blaring bass beat playing on repeat little by little. Matthew’s eyes search for Hanbin on their own, waiting if he had the idea of inviting Matthew over to dance on the dance floor.
A familiar undercut hairstyle, blond hair, and broad shoulders is dancing in the middle. Matthew knows it’s Hanbin, and he thinks he’s gone mad for dancing on his own to slow, romantic music. But when they turn, a brown-haired boy has his hand on Hanbin’s shoulder and the other on his waist, their hips swaying to the beat.
Matthew’s heart drops. It’s stomped on, abused, distorted, and there’s no blood pumping anymore.
Everyone cheers for the two dancing, the disco ball gleaming above them, and they look so in love with each other. Oh, Matthew has been played with. He made a fool out of himself, showed up with Hanbin on his side only to find out he was never the person Hanbin is interested in the first place.
“Seems like you enjoyed the brownies.”
Someone blurts out, startling Matthew out of his headspace. Matthew, a potential theater actor, gasps with his hand on his chest. It makes the stranger giggle. Matthew shouldn’t call him a stranger. He knows this guy since he’s seen him a few times walking down the hallways with his headphones on at all times.
“Yeah,” Matthew breathes out, “yeah, I did.”
“Matthew…” The guy calls out, despite being nearby him.
Matthew lifts his head to the side, “Yes, Jiwoong?”
“Why are you staring?” Jiwoong inquires, sitting beside the lonesome boy who looks like they’re about to cry any minute.
He chuckles, “You can notice?” he meant it as a joke, because what else can he say? Deny the fact that he’s been played on by an uninterested person who led him on?
“It’s obvious.” Jiwoong doesn’t mean to be pallid, neither is his intention to make fun of Matthew who’s clearly going through hidden battles. He wants to continue the conversation for the sake of keeping him company, setting aside his lack of abilities and skills in conversing. “Did you come here alone?”
“I didn’t.” Matthew answers, staring at his shoes tapping on the floor.
Jiwoong tilts his head in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. “Where’s your date then?”
Matthew sort of has hidden hatred for inquisitive people, but he’s not stupid to notice Jiwoong’s reasoning behind the pestering questions. Matthew trembles as he tries to lift up a hand, his finger pointing to the couple still dancing to the slow music.
“Hanbin? But he went with Hao. He’s even dancing with him right now.”
“Do you want to hear a story?”
When Jiwoong nods, he prepares himself to overshare, as he does.
“Hanbin asked me out.” He starts off, a stinging taste on his tongue, wincing at the words he mentioned. “He went to my place and everything, acting like he cared. But I already knew something was off, no one just comes up to me and takes me out on a date. He didn’t even bother introducing me to his friends as his date. I just feel…horrible.”
“So, you’re a victim of a ruined date. Okay.” Jiwoong stands up, flattening out his slacks.
Matthew’s hand grabs Jiwoong’s without his brain’s permission. “Are you going to leave me here after I ranted like everybody else does?”
Jiwoong stares at their linked hands and shakes his head. “I was going to check if there were more brownies so we can talk while eating.” He explains, his thumb rubbing Matthew’s hand.
Matthew swears he sighed out in relief, but his tongue is still tied and he’s breathless. “Then you should’ve said so, I don’t want to keep embarrassing myself for the love of god.” Matthew buries his face in his hands, feet tapping out of anxiety.
“You’re cute, you know.”
“I’m not.”
“Did you convince yourself to think that?”
“Yeah.”
“That took a lot of time, didn’t it?”
Matthew doesn’t understand what’s going on, but his eyes are away from the source of his jealousy and focused on the boy flattering him. Matthew doesn’t respond, he just turns to the side not wanting to face Jiwoong.
“I’ll be back.” He says, skipping away.
Matthew has doubts in trusting Jiwoong’s honesty in what he said. After all, people always run away from Matthew when he starts to show emotions and expresses his veiled feelings. But Matthew widens his eyes when he sees Jiwoong nearing him in only a span of five minutes. He’s empty-handed, much to Matthew’s sadness.
Jiwoong pouts, “They ran out.”
“I might’ve eaten all of them.” Matthew jokes, but he did eat a lot, quite surprised he didn’t have a sugar rush from all that. The abusing of his digestive system with sugar is voluntary though, all because he thought the teeth-rotting dessert can cancel out the pain and agony.
Jiwoong giggles at that, taking Matthew by the hand. It’s an unexpected move, but Matthew allows him to hold his hand, remembering the way Hanbin’s fingers intertwine with his. It’s different though, it’s not the same long and thick fingers that put Matthew’s to shame when his disappears in his hold. They’re slimmer but warms Matthew’s just right.
Jiwoong leans closer to Matthew’s ear, “Follow me.”
Matthew finds themselves sneaking into the school kitchen, holding each other’s hands. While Jiwoong’s tries to work out the lock, Matthew sighs as his ears earn a well-deserved rest from the blaring music, feeling serene peace. Instead of ear-splitting sounds of Dancing Queen and screams of the students, he hears Jiwoong’s grunts and tiny curses.
With a clink, the door swings open. And again, a pull on his wrists almost yanks him down the floor.
“Is this illegal?”
“If you make it to be.” Jiwoong sasses, contented with the simple answer he offered Matthew, treating a possibility of putting themselves in trouble like it’s nothing. Matthew adores him for that, finding a sort of kinship between them.
Matthew is a daredevil, so is Jiwoong.
“What are we doing here?” Matthew asks, scanning the area then back to Jiwoong exploring the cabinets, fridge, and even the oven for something.
Jiwoong hits his head while searching under the table. “The brownies.” He responds, “I can’t find them anywhere!”
Matthew bites down a laugh and Jiwoong shoots him a glare.
“Don’t laugh! I’m literally doing this for you.” He exclaims, crossing his arms, still looking everywhere but finding nothing no matter how hard he tries. He gives up, sitting on the cold floor, bringing his knees close to his chest.
Matthew thinks Jiwoong’s adorable.
He has seen Jiwoong stroll down the hallways with a costume of an intimidating person. Matthew was quick to catch on that it was all an act though. He once giggled when he found Jiwoong sitting on a bench outside dressed in all black, glasses that make him even scarier than he already is, his headphones on but was writing on a notebook covered in Pororo stickers. He’s cozy, warm, soft, like if you were to touch him and it would feel as though you dipped your hand in the cluster of cloudy skies.
And his facial features? Pointy edges but still smooth to caress.
Other from his persistence being attractive, the black hair styled in an undercut—Matthew hates how he flinches—, the navy suit he has on, and a brooch that ties the look altogether. Maybe there was an agreement to wear the same thing that Matthew didn't catch on, because it's sounding a lot like Hanbin. Though, this time his bow is also tilting a little, and Matthew reaches out, trapping Jiwoong, his back against the fridge, fixing the bowtie. A smile of content makes its way on his face.
“I - uh...” Jiwoong stutters, the proximity making the atmosphere a lot sweltering than before.
Matthew, on the other hand, keeps on smiling a nigh smirk. He doesn't use his boldness on people. Under no circumstance has he ever thought of making moves on people he like. So, he uses his effrontery on something else. But now, with his chin up, chest out, unblinking, his hands on either side of Jiwoong’s head, he might have to rethink that. Especially with Jiwoong's reaction, he might take a liking on making first moves more.
Jiwoong looks down, trying to back away, but forgetting the metal doors forbidding him from escaping. He shrinks under Matthew's trap, and perhaps that's blushing when he feels his cheeks heat up.
He would be lying if he said he didn't sense Jiwoong's discomfort, so he clears his throat, chirping out, “Your bowtie was slanted.”
The younger checks the already fixed bow, nodding a little bit. “I didn't notice.”
Great, Matthew just made it awkward. This night has turned into a “How many men will Matthew scare away for being himself” game.
“Do you mind getting out of the way please.” Jiwoong voices out, and Matthew widens his eyes realizing he hasn't moved an inch. Pleas and sorry’s flow out of his mouth, cut off with a sweet-sounding snicker. Jiwoong is laughing, and Matthew can't quite point out if he's making fun of him or finding him cute. He doubts the latter is the correct explanation. “I have an idea.”
Jiwoong doesn't elaborate, walking away to pull out a stool. The shelves are too high for him, the little chair being pointless when he still needs to be on his tiptoes. Then, he brings out many baking tools. Is this what Matthew's thinking...
“They’ll be busy all night, and no one's going to check in here. So, let's bake brownies!” he cheers up, lifting up the wooden spatula and baking tray with glee.
“I don't know how to bake.” Matthew scratches the back of his neck, already dubious and thinking he would mess it up.
“It’s okay, just follow my lead.” Jiwoong pats his back out of reassurance. Then, he collects all the needed ingredients for the brownies. He reaches far for the eggs on the top shelf.
Matthew sees the hardship Jiwoong’s experiencing through the creases on his forehead, how his eyebrows furrow, and the grunts he lets out when he fails removing the carton of eggs from the shelf. Matthew goes over to Jiwoong, helping him take the carton with ease, an involuntary move he didn’t expect. “Here you go.” Matthew smiles at the widened eyes the younger shows when he hands him the carton.
Jiwoong blushes, a little embarrassed to not be able to reach those. “Thank you.”
There isn’t a huge height difference, but Matthew has longer arms compared to Jiwoong, and the elder finds it cute. They make their way to the large metal table in the middle of the room, Jiwoong spreading out all the equipment. He starts getting work done, doing all sort of stuff. One second, he’s mixing ingredients in a bowl, the next second he’s prepping the stove to melt butter and chocolate.
Matthew watches how Jiwoong works in awe. He’s drawn by the way Jiwoong’s arms flex when he stirs the batter, how his eyes are focused on his every movement, how he glances at Matthew on certain occasions when he shows off some of his tricks, how he doesn’t need to look at the cookbook’s instructions and measurements. Matthew could never see himself in Jiwoong’s position, cooking, and baking like it’s a simple everyday task, which should be in this case.
Matthew can’t even fry an egg without burning the whole thing. Heck, he can’t even make instant ramen without messing up one step. But here Jiwoong is, baking brownies like he can do it with one eye closed.
Cooking is another risk he took, and a risk he’s not willing to take again. Not after the first incident of him attempting to cook a complex dish despite his beginner type skills. It was a mess. Him and the kitchen. Everything went everywhere instead of the pan and bowls. Working in the kitchen isn’t his forte, but he’s working on it. Will work on it. Someday.
Matthew is staring, he realizes. The reason why he’s immovable is not because he’s standing way too close to the fridge, but his eyes are occupied by the hypnotic sight of Jiwoong’s vigorous mixing with his hair sticking to his forehead because of the sweat. “Hey uh, do you need help?”
Jiwoong looks up from the bowl, stretching his arms before shaking his head with a grin, “No, it’s fine. Just sit there and watch.”
“But I want to help…” Jiwoong goes back to mixing before Matthew could respond, but he senses a pout from Matthew’s inflections. And when he checks on him, there is indeed a pout on his face, but he’s fixated on his round cheeks as he looks down the ground.
And just like that, Jiwoong gives in, an unintended smile showing up on his face. He shoves the bowl towards Matthew, “Mix that for me, I’ll preheat the oven and look for baking trays.”
At least he’s not assigned to a heavy task, mixing is easy. That’s what he thought, not when he started flicking his wrist in the wrong directions, the whisk splatting out the batter from the bowl, drops of brown batter on the table. On the bright side, he didn’t spill all of it. When Jiwoong comes back with the baking trays, he glances over the table then back to Matthew wearing an apologetic smile.
“Matthew what—” Jiwoong tries to ask, but all he receives are rambles.
“I’m so, so sorry Jiwoong! I thought I could mix this easily because I thought mixing was the easiest thing in the world which it should be—but my clumsy ass couldn’t even hold the whisk properly, so it went everywhere. And oh my god am I rambling!? Fuck I’m so sorry Jiwoong—”
Jiwoong holds him by the shoulders, “Stop apologizing. It’s fine. Just, clean it up.” He does his best to sound nice and not assertive, but either way, Matthew would look like a lost puppy finding his way to the tissues. “On your right.”
Matthew comes back with a box of tissues, wiping the surface as he sighs, “You’re so considerate with me.”
The other hums in response, now spraying the trays with baking spray, “It’s the least I could do to cheer you up.”
“But why?”
Jiwoong is cursing himself for forgetting the chocolate chips, but he looks at Matthew when he asks, because he doesn’t have an answer. All he can think of is “I don’t know”, surely not the answer Matthew is looking for, but the most truthful his mind can brew up. Then, a thought crosses his mind in the speed of lightning, Jiwoong bites his lip before it comes out.
Matthew throws out all the used tissues, coming back with a waiting expression and stares of silence, searching for the answer in Jiwoong’s bitten lips. He bites even harder, like he’s hiding something, and now Matthew’s mission is to let that escape.
When silence engulfs the kitchen in spite of the loud music from the gymnasium, Matthew decides to take a risk, because it’s what he does when he faces the thorniest task in history, when he’s stuck in a situation. Decision-making. His throat tightens before words can even form, and he thinks avoiding eye contact may be the best thing to do. So, Matthew is standing, facing the door, heart beating while he’s anticipating some form of answer. By the time Jiwoong pours the batter on the baking trays, he readies himself. “Do you pity me?”
The tone when he asks the hassling question isn’t sweet like the handful of chocolate chips he shoves in his mouth. It’s almost cynical, or rather abrasive. For some reasons sweat forms on Jiwoong’s temples, not because of how close he is with the oven.
“You think I’m miserable, don’t you?” Matthew goes straight to the point, and he knows he looks like an idiot talking to the wall. Oh, but he isn’t done, “You’re gonna pamper me, take good care of me, pretend like you care for the slightest bit, lead me on into thinking that someone is interested into knowing me, then leave like everyone else does.”
Every complaint that leaves his mouth jabs Jiwoong directly in the chest, adding pressure and burdens to Jiwoong’s shoulders, but he keeps his attention to the brownies that are in the middle of baking. It’s a little weird to converse with each other while focusing on different things, Jiwoong staring at the oven while Matthew chats with the doors. The rants and complaints’ sounds raise, getting louder and louder by the second. To say he isn’t sick of it is an understatement.
Jiwoong stands up, sauntering to Matthew in small steps, and the latter feels eyes stabbing him from behind. Another risk, he turns around, finding Jiwoong nearing him, staring at him straight in the eyes. Matthew gulps nothing, unwillingly backing away even though the expression written on his face is unreadable. Matthew can’t even read between the lines or go overboard with the conclusions, because all that sits on his face is deadpan emotions.
Uh oh.
Matthew knows Jiwoong to an extent. A very small extent. He knows how he could get angry, though. It’s as if the sweet, innocent boy vanishes and a whole different person stands before him, a death glare gleaming in his eyes, the rest of his face stagnant. He’s seen his jaw clench and lips tighten for multiple reasons, and Matthew vaguely remembers telling himself that he doesn’t want to be on the list of people who pissed Jiwoong off.
He’s closer than ever, and Matthew is now the flimsy person he is behind those masks of valor, lips trembling, mouth apart as he searches for the perfect thing to say to flee this position.
What Jiwoong does next take him by surprise. All he remembers is the tight grip Jiwoong has on his coat, shoving Matthew in the wall but sparing some gentleness when he does, the younger takes one last look to Matthew’s glistening eyes before crashing their lips together.
Jiwoong starts off rough with the kiss, not giving Matthew a chance to breathe and comprehend what the hell he’s doing, because he doesn’t know as well. He could’ve told him a short and simple answer, but no, he had to kiss him. Slowly, they melt into each other’s hold, Jiwoong letting go of his grasp on Matthew’s coat and putting him down. Tension builds up in between them at the start, their inexperience in kissing people could be thanked for that.
It feels right, though. Like they should’ve been doing this from the very beginning of meeting each other. Greet each other by an inviting and welcoming kiss.
Matthew has his eyes widened at first, then settles comfortably when their chests are flushed, closing his eyes when Jiwoong deepens the kiss. He’s a good kisser, Matthew says to himself, tilting his head to change the angle. He hears a whine from Jiwoong with the new angle, then Matthew’s hand flies into the tuft of his hair, pulling him closer.
Jiwoong pulls away, Matthew wanting to chase after his lips, then realization dawns on him. He’s kissing someone he hasn’t known as more than an acquaintance, but it feels like home, kissing someone attached to his hip. It’s a bit harsh to call him a stranger, Jiwoong isn’t a complete stranger to Matthew’s life after all. But are those minuscule interactions enough for them to kiss each other?
Matthew takes a good look on Jiwoong’s swollen lips that look alike to Matthew’s own lips.
“That’s why.” He says, straight from the shoulder, hoping Matthew has some sort of hint to what that means. He kneels in front of the oven before sitting securely on the floor, hugging his knees as he watches how the brownies rise, bubbles starting to form, like the bubbling feeling in his chest when he finally kissed Matthew after months of pining.
Months. After months.
It began when Jiwoong saw Matthew in the school garden when the end of the day was nearing, wearing messed up white overalls, a paintbrush in one hand and a palette on the other. The canvas where he painted the sun setting in front of his own eyes being halfway done. What catches Jiwoong’s attention is how focused he is when he strokes orange paint on the canvas. When one flaw appears on the painting, he hears Matthew say, “It’s fine. It adds personality anyway,” giggling after. He doesn’t cover up the mistakes but embraces them.
Jiwoong wonders why Matthew couldn’t apply that to himself.
The sweet and teethy smile he shows when he’s more than content with the finished product sends butterflies into Jiwoong’s stomach.
Jiwoong never had the chance to talk to Matthew because of his busy duties with anything and everything related to art. The next time Matthew intrigues Jiwoong is when he’s taken by decorating their room for the upcoming Christmas party. All alone. But he looked like he was having the time of his life hanging the decorations, and Jiwoong’s lips mold into a grin.
His thoughts wander off to places, like how cozy Matthew looks with that red hoodie on, and how Jiwoong wants to pull him in an embrace and never let go. But he couldn’t, so he slides down the wall, burying his face in his knees, receiving concerned gazes.
Another encounter, Jiwoong meets a drained Matthew sitting on the benches in the school gymnasium, shoulders slumped, and his head hung low. He’s fast asleep, but he’s far from peaceful, the lines on his forehead accentuating, and his eyebrows furrowed because of the bad posture he’s in. His poor neck, Jiwoong thinks. Jiwoong can’t merely stare at the struggling boy. Thus, he taps on his shoulder, frightening Matthew on accident.
Jiwoong starts off with a question, “Why are you sleeping here?”
“My friends ditched me. We were supposed to decorate the stage for the even this weekend, and they all left me here. The only thing I done is that.” He gestures at the decorations hung on the stage, the purple lights complementing the curtains behind it.
Jiwoong’s jaw drops, exclaiming, “You did that yourself!?”
“Yeah. I know it looks horrid. I might scare away the guests with it.” Matthew whines—and Jiwoong can’t stop squealing in the inside because of how cute he is—, hiding his face with his bruised hands.
“Are you kidding me!? It’s beautiful.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
It’s another day with Jiwoong admiring Matthew from afar, how the sun hits his golden skin, can’t even bother looking for shade since he’s too busy with filming something. For memories, he hears him scream to his friend playing basketball, the other one playing the guitar, two of them reading books on a bench, and one taking polaroid pictures. He fantasizes being in those memories Matthew would look back on, smiling when he finds Jiwoong included.
It’s until Jiwoong realizes Matthew’s love for art. His train of thoughts end where Jiwoong realizes he loves Matthew.
Jiwoong won’t confess out loud that this was some sort of scheme he had under his sleeve, but it is, and his heart celebrates on its own. He witnessed Hanbin asking Matthew out in the most boring way possible, Jiwoong reassuring himself that he could do better. But he’s a coward, so the most action he has done that can’t even be considered making a move is admire him from afar. He had also witnessed Hanbin asking Zhang hao out, this time genuineness is observable.
He had always been a witness, as long as Seok Matthew is involved. When he heard Hanbin’s douchebag friends suggest pranking a poor innocent student with a fake confession, Jiwoong wanted to be a knight in shining armor for Matthew, but when he saw the elder being happy with Hanbin, he almost didn’t believe it was a prank in the first place.
He isn’t saying he’s thankful that his date turned out to be one of his worst, but he has Matthew all to himself and it’s now his chance to bring back those pretty smiles and giggles of his.
Jiwoong can tell the brownies are almost finished, but he can’t tell what Matthew is doing, far too embarrassed by his own boldness.
“…Did you just kiss me?” Matthew wants to slap himself for asking for confirmation on the most obvious thing.
Jiwoong chuckles, “Yeah.”
Matthew doesn’t know how to be upfront, all words and attempts of saying anything is stranded in his throat. Maybe it’s the dehydration. Perhaps it’s the haunting hesitation of requesting Jiwoong to let their eyes meet and kiss him again. Matthew just can’t get enough of him, craving more and more of Jiwoong’s sugary taste. He adores the hints if coffee and chocolate chips when they kissed. A reply takes shape, then deforms into dust when he deliberates of saying it out loud.
He’s a risk taker, he remembers.
A wave of confidence washes over to Matthew, now he’s standing tall with his chin up. Clearing his throat, he attempts to say it with a coherent voice, but his words come out as a whisper, “Do it again.”
Jiwoong’s shoulder raise, his whole body frozen in that position. Is there something wrong with his ears? Should he get that checked out? Because it can’t be… No, he did not hear Matthew request for another kiss. That was a ghost of his remaining hope for an emergent relationship with the boy he’s been yearning for months.
However, attraction doesn’t happen like that, does it?
“What?” Jiwoong questions, waiting for rejection, anticipating a verification that he indeed heard it incorrectly. Just another instance of his delusions fooling him and controlling his thoughts that will lead to his disappointment. But his shoulders lift even higher with the answer he receives, lips parting a little, staring wide-eyed at the almost baked brownies, still not acquiring the courage to gaze him in the eye.
“Kiss me again…please.”
Tones of pleading coats his voice, a little broken. He’s begging for it.
Jiwoong stands up, chasing after Matthew as if he’s going to run away. Facing Matthew hasn’t been this simple, neither is sliding his fingers up his sharp jawline till he reaches behind his ear, cradling his face, looking at each other’s eyes with immense sentiment and intimacy. “You don’t have to beg, you know.” He whispers, hot breath fanning on Matthew’s lips. It’s the second time their lips grazed against one another, the acquainted feeling of pillowy lips and bursting tastes of sweetness taking over their minds.
They move in a slower pace, savoring the moment of kissing under the illuminating white light and faint music in the background. Maybe the school kitchen isn’t an ideal place to have their first kiss, but they don’t focus on the setting when all they can taste is the pleasurable sensation of requited feelings and sweet desserts. Matthew sneaks a hand on Jiwoong’s waist, pulling him nearer until the latter has him trapped between the table and his body.
Cherishing this exclusive moment, Jiwoong misses the ding! by a few seconds. He backs up, in an abrupt pace that Matthew stands there with his lips still pouting. “Oh! The brownies are finished!” he shouts, opening the oven with bear hands, wincing in pain at the realization.
Matthew slaps a hand over his mouth, body jolting to find a pair of mittens for Jiwoong. The pair of mittens hanging over the stove are staring at him, but still tripping on the air. Without falling, he hands the mittens to Jiwoong. The aroma enters his nose, and he feels like he’s floating. Brownies and having his first kiss with an adorable guy aren’t his plans for this night, but he can’t say he’s mad.
Not when Jiwoong takes a piece, blowing off the steam, and leans over to Matthew, signaling him to open his mouth.
“How is it?” Jiwoong asks, batting his eyelashes as he watches Matthew chew on the dessert.
“It’s hot.” Matthew manages to choke out, eyes tearing up, but keeping the sweet in his mouth.
Jiwoong widens his eyes, “Shit I’m sorry!”, an apology taking form in his trembling lips, but he bites his bottom lip. Instead, when Matthew swallows the piece, he cups his face and kisses him. Tastes of fruit punch and brownies dance on his tongue, weird combination, but he won’t complain since he’s tasting it in Matthew’s mouth.
Matthew can’t guess how many times Jiwoong could knock him off his feet, how many times he would freeze when Jiwoong’s near, how many times Matthew should’ve realized in the past that he could’ve been doing this sooner. This was definitely not one of his expectations. He expected to be with Hanbin all night, talking to him, dancing with him, being happy with him. Not spend his whole night in the school kitchen.
Waiting for the brownies to cool off, they sit on the table, Matthew’s head on Jiwoong’s lap as he plays with his hair. “About earlier…sorry this might sound invasive, but why did you think I was doing this out of pity?” he asks, a little reluctance holding him back. He catches the way Matthew’s eyes soften.
He heaves a sigh, “Because that’s what everyone does to me. They make me feel special, and then they abandon me when they’re finished. I end up being used and then feeling worthless.” He feels air knocked out of him. He isn’t done though, he’s presented by an opportunity to pour his heart out, so he takes it. “You might be scared by the number of sleepless nights I spend with only pondering… am I unlikeable? Do I seem like an easy target? I wish I wasn’t… life would be so much easier for me to not be tossed around and used all the time.” He notices the quietness of the other, “Wait! I’m sorry, am I rambling again? Sorry I don’t know how to stop talking.”
Jiwoong puts a finger on his lips, “Keep talking, I’m here to listen.”
“You’re so nice.” Matthew pouts, not believing a person this nice exists.
“Thanks,” Jiwoong giggles, “I try really hard.”
Jiwoong caresses his cheeks, and Matthew melts, turning red. Then, he brushes away the hair covering his eyes before mumbling, “I assure you I won’t be an ‘everyone’. I’ll stay here as long as you want. I don’t want to leave anyway.”
“I still don’t understand why.”
“Hmm I don’t know.” Jiwoong fakes a thinking noise, “Because I like you, idiot.”
Matthew sits up, hands slapping his own mouth, his ears turning a bright red. “You do!?”
“How many times did I kiss you tonight for you to still not understand?” Jiwoong rolls his eyes, taking out a cooled down brownie from the tray. He bites hard.
“But—I… what!?”
“Just accept my feelings before I kiss you again.”
“NO!” Matthew shouts, immediately taking back his words. He wouldn’t mind being kissed again, though. “I mean yes! I accept your feelings it’s just that—”
Having enough of a blabbering Matthew, Jiwoong shoves a brownie in his mouth, snorting at the sight of Matthew’s mouth stuffed full but still attempting to talk. After minutes of chewing, Matthew looks at him with a glare, to which Jiwoong laughs at. “What I’m trying to say is, I accept your feelings and I like you too.” He confirms, bowing forward and kissing him. Short and sweet. Matthew makes a sound out of realization, “This can’t be our first date! Please, let me take you out for coffee? Brunch? Dinner? Anything you want.”
Jiwoong spares himself time to think, a date with Matthew outside school and not some tight school kitchen sounds nice. Jiwoong’s passion is always working in the kitchen though, crafting desserts and dishes that speak to his heart, the same way Matthew does to him. And he wants to bring Matthew into the cooking world too. His mind creating scenarios where Matthew is helping him bake something but end up spilling flour everywhere. He’d love to see how the flour on his face, batter spilled there as well, and Jiwoong helping him clean but end up making more mess. But it’s fine since they’re together and they’re happy. Jiwoong can’t ask for more. “I’ll be fine with spending time with you baking.”
“I didn’t even help.” Matthew’s voice is small, resting his head on Jiwoong’s shoulder, the pout hasn’t left his face, and Jiwoong prefers it to stay there.
“True, but this could be a way for you to learn.”
Matthew would love that.
Time is nonexistent to the both of them, their minds fixated on each other and the comforting presence of being together. Ending the night with the baking tray empty and just the crumbs left, and Matthew learning about Jiwoong’s lengthy pining. Matthew wonders why he hasn’t paid attention to Jiwoong when he was always present, just not in front of him, unlike this time where they can kiss each other in any given moment.
He wished they were doing this earlier because everything is distinct when it comes to him. His praises and compliments holding sincerity and not for mere sweet talk, his touches warming him, how his lips are literally perfect, how his smile can make Matthew’s heart skip a beat.
“Is it too soon to say I love you?”
“Not when it feels right.”
Matthew forgets the bad outcomes as Jiwoong lips slot with his own. Perfect. He disregards the fact of being dumped, replaced with someone else, and fixates on how perfectly he fits in Jiwoong’s arms, all those regrets are blown away once he settles in his arms. He adores how his fingers intertwine with Jiwoong’s, following with the kiss on his knuckle, then the back of his hand, to his cheeks, his lips, his forehead, and his lips again. He loves everything about him.
Oh god, he loves taking risks.