Chapter Text
"I'm going to burn this place down," Joong Archen muttered as he stared at the smoking disaster in his cooking pot. What had started as a simple Thai curry now resembled volcanic sludge, and the smell was making his eyes water. The community center's weekend cooking class, "Traditional Thai Cuisine for Beginners," was filled with other adults preparing dishes that actually looked edible, unlike his catastrophe.
"Wow," came an amused voice from behind him. "I don't think curry is supposed to be black. Or solid."
Joong turned to face Dunk Natachai, the irritatingly competent guy who worked at the station next to his. Despite being in a beginner's class, Dunk's curry looked like it belonged in a cooking magazine – vibrant, aromatic, and undoubtedly delicious.
"Thanks for the observation," Joong replied dryly. "I hadn't noticed."
Dunk leaned over to inspect the burnt offering more closely, wrinkling his nose at the smell. "Did you use the recipe Chef Somchai gave us, or did you decide to invent a new dish called 'Scorched Earth'?"
Despite his frustration, Joong found himself fighting a smile. Dunk's teasing never had any real malice behind it, which made it hard to stay annoyed at him. "I followed the recipe exactly."
"Clearly not," Dunk said, gesturing to the smoking pot. "Unless the recipe called for setting the ingredients on fire."
Joong sighed, pushing the pot away. "I should just quit. Three classes in and I still can't make a basic curry."
"Why did you sign up for this class anyway?" Dunk asked, turning down the heat under his own perfectly simmering pot. "Most people join because they want to impress a date or post food photos on Instagram."
"My grandmother owned a small restaurant in Chiang Mai," Joong admitted. "She passed away last year. I thought learning to cook her recipes might help me... I don't know, stay connected to her somehow."
Dunk's playful expression softened. "That's actually really nice."
"Yeah, well, she'd be horrified by this," Joong said, gesturing to his ruined curry. "She was known for her cooking."
"Here," Dunk said, moving closer. "We still have an hour before class ends. That's plenty of time to start over."
"There's no point. I'll just ruin it again."
"Not if I help you." Dunk was already reaching for a fresh pot. "Consider it my good deed for the month."
Joong raised an eyebrow. "And what do you get out of this?"
"The satisfaction of knowing you won't poison yourself," Dunk replied promptly. "Plus, most people in this class are here to post photos of their food or meet potential dates. You're the only one with a real reason. That's refreshing."
"So I'm your entertainment?" Joong asked, trying to sound offended but finding himself oddly flattered.
"Exactly." Dunk grinned. "Now, grab fresh ingredients. We're starting from scratch."
For the next half hour, Dunk guided Joong through the process of preparing red curry properly. He was surprisingly patient, explaining each step and correcting Joong's technique without being condescending.
"The secret," Dunk explained as he showed Joong how to stir the curry paste in the hot oil, "is to cook the paste first to release the flavors before adding the coconut milk."
"I did that," Joong protested.
"No, you dumped everything in at once. I was watching you."
"That's a bit creepy."
"It's called being observant," Dunk corrected. "It's hard not to watch when someone is creating a potential hazardous waste situation two meters away from me."
As they worked side by side, Joong found himself relaxing. Dunk's company was easy, his instructions clear, and his jokes, though often at Joong's expense, were genuinely funny.
"So why are you in a beginner's cooking class when you clearly know what you're doing?" Joong asked as they waited for the curry to simmer. "Showing off?"
Dunk laughed. "My sister signed me up. She thinks I need to 'meet people' outside of work."
"And what do you do?"
"I'm a software engineer. I spend most days talking to computers instead of humans."
"That explains the social awkwardness," Joong teased.
"Says the guy who burned curry so badly the smoke detector almost went off," Dunk shot back with a smile. "What about you? What do you do when you're not creating culinary hazards?"
"I'm a graphic designer at an advertising agency," Joong replied. "I create visuals that look good. Just don't ask me to create food that tastes good."
"Yet," Dunk corrected. "Food that tastes good, yet. We'll get you there."
When Chef Somchai came by to evaluate their dishes, he raised an eyebrow at the two of them working together but said nothing as he tasted Joong's curry – the second, edible version.
"Much improved, Khun Joong," he said with an approving nod. "Though I suspect you had some assistance."
"I was merely a consultant," Dunk said with exaggerated innocence. "The execution was all his."
Once the chef moved on, Joong turned to Dunk. "Thanks for saving me from certain humiliation."
"Don't thank me yet," Dunk replied. "Next week is the final session, and we're supposed to prepare a dish on our own for the showcase. Chef Somchai said everyone gets to taste each other's food."
The thought of creating a complex Thai dish without help, knowing everyone would be tasting it, made Joong's stomach sink. "I'll probably drop out."
"Or," Dunk suggested, "you could practice before then."
"With what? My apartment barely has a functioning microwave."
"I have a decent kitchen," Dunk said, pulling out his phone. "Add me on Line. You could come over this weekend and we could practice."
"You want to spend your weekend teaching a stranger how to cook?" Joong asked skeptically.
"Not a stranger. More like... a cooking disaster acquaintance," Dunk replied with a smile. "Besides, my condo gets lonely. It would be nice to have someone to cook with."
Joong hesitated. He'd joined this class hoping to connect with his grandmother's memory, not to make friends – or whatever this was turning into.
"Why would you help me?" Joong asked finally.
Dunk appeared to consider this, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Maybe I find your cooking disasters entertaining. Maybe I'm just a good person. Or maybe I have an ulterior motive that involves getting to know the stubborn guy who joined a cooking class for his grandmother even though he clearly has no natural talent for it."
Joong felt a flush creeping up his neck. "That's... oddly specific."
"I'm an oddly specific person." Dunk handed him his phone. "Your Line ID?"
Before Joong could overthink it, he entered his information. Their fingers brushed as he handed the phone back, and he pretended not to notice the small jolt he felt at the contact.
"Saturday, 11 AM," Dunk said, sending a quick message so Joong would have his contact info. "Bring ingredients. And maybe a fire extinguisher, just in case."
"Very funny," Joong muttered, but he was smiling as he cleaned up his station. Maybe this cooking class hadn't been such a bad idea after all.
* * *
Saturday arrived, and Joong found himself standing outside Dunk's impressive condo building, clutching a bag of fresh ingredients and feeling inexplicably nervous. This was just cooking practice, he reminded himself. Nothing more.
After being cleared by security, he made his way to the 15th floor. He was about to knock when he heard multiple voices and laughter coming from inside. Joong hesitated, wondering if he'd gotten the time wrong. Before he could check his Line messages, the door swung open.
"I thought I heard someone in the hallway," Dunk said with a bright smile. "You're right on time."
Joong peered past Dunk to see three people lounging in the living room, all looking curiously in his direction.
"I thought... you said you were meeting your sister at 4?" Joong asked, confused.
"I am. These are my friends who decided to drop by unannounced," Dunk explained, taking the grocery bag from Joong's hands and ushering him inside. "Everyone, this is Joong from my cooking class. Joong, meet the gang – Pond, New, and Force."
The trio waved with varying levels of enthusiasm. The one called Pond exchanged a knowing look with New that Joong couldn't quite interpret.
"So you're the cooking disaster Dunk hasn't stopped talking about," Force said with a grin, earning a glare from Dunk.
"Ignore him," Dunk said quickly. "They were just leaving."
"No, we weren't," Pond protested. "I want to see this cooking lesson in action."
"Yeah, Dunk said you nearly burned down the community centre trying to make curry," New added.
Joong shot Dunk an accusatory look. "You told them about that?"
Dunk at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "I might have mentioned it."
"It's fine," Joong said, forcing a smile. "I should probably get going though. You obviously have plans."
"No!" Dunk said, a bit too quickly. He cleared his throat. "I mean, they really are leaving. Right, guys?"
The three friends exchanged amused glances.
"Fine, we know when we're not wanted," Pond said, standing up. "We'll see you at Ryu's tonight, though, right?"
"Yeah, of course," Dunk replied, practically shoving them toward the door.
As they gathered their things, Force leaned in to whisper something to Dunk that made him blush furiously. Joong pretended to be fascinated by the décor while the friends made their exit, each giving Dunk significant looks as they left.
When the door closed behind them, an awkward silence fell.
"Sorry about that," Dunk said finally. "They decided to show up early."
Joong looked around the stylish apartment – clearly not the home of someone who suffered from loneliness. There were photos everywhere of Dunk with friends and family, game consoles, and evidence of a very active social life.
"Your condo gets lonely, huh?" Joong echoed Dunk's words from before, raising an eyebrow.
Dunk had the grace to look sheepish. "I might have exaggerated a little."
"Why?" Joong asked, genuinely curious. "Why make up an excuse?"
Dunk busied himself with unpacking the groceries, avoiding Joong's eyes. "Would you have come if I'd just said I wanted to spend time with you?"
The question hung in the air between them. Joong wasn't sure how to answer. Would he have? The idea of Dunk wanting to spend time with him specifically, not out of pity or boredom, made something flutter in his chest.
"I don't know," he answered honestly.
Dunk finally looked up, his usual confidence momentarily replaced by vulnerability. "Well, I wanted to spend time with you. Is that weird?"
"A little," Joong admitted. "Considering all I've done is provide fire hazard entertainment."
Dunk laughed, the tension breaking. "That's part of your charm."
"I have charm?"
"More than you realize," Dunk said, his eyes lingering on Joong's face a beat longer than necessary. He quickly turned back to the groceries. "Now, shall we get started before you find more reasons to escape?"
For the next two hours, they worked side by side in Dunk's kitchen, preparing a simple but delicious pad thai. The earlier awkwardness dissolved as they fell into an easy rhythm, Dunk guiding without dominating, Joong learning without frustration.
"You're actually not hopeless," Dunk observed as Joong successfully flipped the noodles without spilling any. "You just need practice."
"And a teacher who doesn't panic when I make mistakes," Joong added.
"Chef Somchai is a bit high-strung."
"That's an understatement. I thought he was going to faint when I knocked over the fish sauce last week."
They laughed, and Joong realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed cooking so much. Even his grandmother's kitchen hadn't been this relaxing.
When they finally sat down to eat, Joong took a bite and couldn't suppress his surprise. "This is actually good."
"Don't sound so shocked," Dunk said. "You made it."
"With your supervision."
"I barely did anything this time."
They ate in comfortable silence for a while before Joong spoke again. "Thank you, by the way. For not just laughing at my disaster curry the other day."
"Oh, I definitely laughed," Dunk corrected. "Just not to your face."
"That's comforting," Joong said dryly. "Though your friends seemed to know all about my cooking disasters."
Dunk smiled apologetically. "I might have a problem with talking about you too much."
"Why would you talk about me at all?" Joong asked, putting down his fork.
Dunk looked at him for a long moment, as if debating how honest to be. "Because I noticed you the first day of class," he said finally. "You were so determined, even when everything went wrong. It was... cute."
The word hung between them. Joong felt his cheeks warming.
"Cute?" he repeated.
"Yeah," Dunk admitted, not backing down. "I especially like when you get frustrated and start muttering to yourself in Northern dialect. It's cute."
"You understand Northern Thai?" Joong asked, mortified at the thought of what Dunk might have overheard.
"My mom's from Chiang Rai," Dunk admitted with a smile. "So I caught most of those colorful phrases you were directing at your curry last week."
Joong didn't know how to respond. The idea that someone like Dunk – confident, skilled, clearly popular – had been watching him with interest seemed impossible. Yet the way Dunk was looking at him now, with hopeful vulnerability, made it hard to disbelieve.
"I should probably get going," Joong said finally, standing up. "It's getting late, and you have plans tonight."
"Right," Dunk said, disappointment flashing across his face as he walked Joong to the door.
As Joong stepped into the hallway, he turned back. "Your apartment doesn't look lonely at all," he observed. "You have a lot of friends."
"I do," Dunk acknowledged. "But sometimes you want specific company, not just any company."
Their eyes met, and the moment stretched between them, full of unspoken possibilities. Joong found himself reluctant to leave, despite his earlier eagerness to escape.
"Same time next Saturday?" he heard himself asking. "To practice for the final session?"
Dunk's face lit up with a smile that made Joong's heart skip. "It's a date," he said, then quickly added, "I mean, not a date date, unless..."
"Unless?" Joong prompted, surprised by his own boldness.
"Unless you want it to be," Dunk finished softly.
Joong felt a smile tugging at his lips. "I'll think about it," he said, but the warmth in his eyes gave away his answer.
As he walked to the elevator, he couldn't help but think that his grandmother would definitely approve. Not just of his improved cooking skills, but of the unexpected ingredient he'd found in this cooking class – someone who saw his disasters and still thought he was worth the time.