Work Text:
Yeosang woke up with a migraine. It was so bad he thought he was going to puke, and he wobbled to the bathroom to find painkillers. He cracked open the film protecting the ibuprofen pill and went down to his kitchen to find a glass of water. He rummaged through his drawers to find his favorite one, because why the hell not, and finally found it in the dishwasher, already clean. He swallowed the pill with difficulty, his throat feeling like sandpaper. It was definitely the last time he drank this much.
But when he was hanging out with Jongho and San, as his alcohol tolerance fell into the middle of both of them, he either drank to match Jongho’s insane pace or slower and drinking as little as San, which wasn’t a lot before the poor kitty shut down and fell asleep sitting on his chair. But San was in a celebratory mood, and it was one of these days where Yeosang had matched Jongho’s drinking, just because he could, and because he didn’t have to go to work the next day.
It was a lovely Saturday morning, the sun shining through his glass doors, the spring weather lovely, but Yeosang was holding his face in his hands and groaning at the light – too much light why is the sun even up – and getting his phone from his abandoned bag in the entrance. He hadn’t been drunk enough to forego putting on pajamas and doing his skincare, but he had left his bag in the hallway, and his shoes in disarray. He neatly put them side by side, grunting when he had to lean down to get his bag from the floor.
He gawked at his phone when he looked at the time. He didn’t think he had slept that much, and he really didn’t remember how he came back home, since he had taken an Uber to go to the restaurant, and he consulted his past purchases, groaning at the number of impulse buying he had done. So he had taken a cab home, that was for sure, but how could he explain the complete set of skincare he had gotten? And this necklace was lovely, but what was it made of to be this expensive?
He went to his coffee machine and settled on making a black espresso to help taming his migraine, and he sipped on it peacefully, trying to remember what happened last night. He could only see flashes, Jongho and San singing a song at the karaoke, the strobe lights of the room, their laughs, the number of bottles of soju on the table. Too many bottles, way too many bottles. His phone vibrated in his hand while he was scrunching up his face to try and rack his brains for more memories. He smiled at the caller ID, and took the call.
“Hi Yunho! What’s up?”
Yunho was his college’s roommate, and they had gotten along so well they had spent the entire course of their degree living with each other, getting the near everyday visit from his childhood friend, a tall and strong guy named Mingi. Yeosang had done his best to be the best matchmaker possible, but once they finally got together after months of pining, he had been sexiled so much he practically lived in Mingi’s one room apartment. But he didn’t mind, Mingi had an extensive collection of vinyls and a really cool vintage record player so he would spend his evenings listening to music and singing along.
“Not much, just checking in, you called me at 3am last night.”
“Oh no, why?” Yeosang asked, mortified.
“You wanted Mingi to come cook for you. You were super hungry.”
Yeosang grimaced, and he put a hand on his empty tummy, but he thought he would have trouble getting something in for the moment. The alcohol he had drank last night was still sitting heavily on his stomach. He couldn’t even bring himself to think about cooking, because he was that bad of a cook, firstly, but also because he felt the tinge of nausea in the wake of his slowly receding migraine.
“I’m okay for now. If I need to, I will order something,” Yeosang said.
“Ordering again? I get that you earn a lot, but that’s a big budget to spend every month!”
“You know I can’t cook to save my life.”
“Wait a second- What, Mingi, I’m on the phone with Yeosangie?” Yunho said, his voice sounding from afar, like he had moved his phone away from his ear. “Oh, Sangie? Mingi found something for you.”
“Oh no,” Yeosang made a face. “If it’s another one of his blind dates, I don’t wanna go.”
He heard commotion, a complaining noise, static, before he heard Mingi.
“It’s not a blind date, but it’s for your birthday. I found you the perfect gift.”
“Oh? What is it?” Yeosang asked, curious.
“It’s a surprise. I’m gonna send you a text with the address,” instructed Mingi.
“Alright, but I’m scared.”
“And no googling the place!”
“Okay, I won’t. Pinky promise,” replied Yeosang.
They hung up a few minutes later, and Yeosang felt like his headache had subsided enough for him to do some house chores, and he went on his day.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Suspicious, he was standing in front of the place that Mingi had told him to go to. It was his birthday, thankfully a Sunday, and he was the only man waiting in a crowd of women. They were in his age range, but he still felt shy, moreso because he didn’t know what he was going to do. It’s not like he had trouble making friends, but he needed a minute to be coaxed out of his shell to make his sunny and funny personality shine through. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and, a bit startled, he turned around.
The man had a really cute face, fluffy brown hair, and glasses with a thick black frame. He was giving him a timid smile, like he really didn’t want to bother Yeosang. He was wearing a dark red cardigan and a tartan patterned shirt, flared black pants and a pair of combat boots. He looked really stylish, and that made Yeosang smile, because he was used to well-dressed people in his work. He gave him a questioning look, and waited for the stranger to speak.
“I’m happy I’m not the only man. Maybe we could pair up during the lesson?”
“The lesson?” Yeosang asked in curious tone.
“Yes? The cooking lesson?”
Oh. Oh no. He was going to kill Mingi. He was thinking about different ways to murder him, when the stranger introduced himself.
“I’m Hongjoong, and the cooking instructor is actually my friend. He’s really nice, so it should be fun.”
“My name is Yeosang, it’s nice to meet you! You have a friendly face,” Yeosang said with a smile. “Are you also a disaster in the kitchen?”
“Well, last time I tried to cook, I accidentally poured the whole jar of salt into the stew I was making.”
That made Yeosang laugh. Whenever he tried cooking himself, there was something bad happening. Somehow he didn’t want to kill Mingi anymore, if he could make a friend.
“I’m actually here to learn how to make a cake. I want to celebrate my boyfriend’s new job, to congratulate him,” Hongjoong said.
“Oh, that’s really cute! I’m sure he’s gonna be really happy.”
“And you? Why are you here?” Hongjoong asked with a soft smile.
“It’s my birthday today, and I guess the friend who booked the lesson wanted me to make something? He’s a great cook.”
“Ah! Happy birthday!”
Yeosang said his thank yous with a grin, and the door of the cooking lesson place opened, a young man with a bright smile appearing in the door frame. He was wearing simple loose black clothes, and had a white apron around his waist. He spotted Hongjoong in the crowd and waved at him. Then he looked at Yeosang, and his smile faltered, before returning with a vengeance.
He looked mesmerized by him, but Yeosang didn’t know why. They came closer to him, and said their hellos, before Wooyoung told them to enter and choose a workbench. They stood in front of the one that was sitting directly in front of the cooking instructor’s own.
The women who were waiting with them entered after them, and they spread out in the room. The cooking lesson was obviously famous, because there wasn’t one empty workbench. Wooyoung took place in front of all of them, and clasped his hands in delight.
“Hello, everyone! I’m Wooyoung, today’s cooking instructor, and we are gonna make, I hope, a feast. I heard from a little birdie that it was someone’s birthday today. Can the birthday person make themselves known?”
Shyly, Yeosang raised his hand, flushing a pink down to his collar. Wooyoung looked at him, and gave him a blinding grin.
“Your name is Yeosang, right? Your friend told me over the phone,” Wooyoung said in a kind voice. “We are going to shape you into a magnificent cook, you’ll see.”
Yeosang blushed even deeper, eyes looking everywhere but Wooyoung. The cook instructor laughed, the sound like chimes in the wind. He looked so comfortable being there in the front of them, like it was his rightful place. Even if Yeosang’s job was literally to talk in front of people, he found that it was always difficult, never mind getting used to it. Wooyoung had a really nice smile, infectious and wide, that made everyone at ease. He looked like he was laughing everyday, his eyes crinkling at the corner in such a cute way that Yeosang felt his heart skip two beats at once.
They all started by cooking rice, and for now, everything was turning alright. Hongjoong and Yeosang took turn washing and rinsing the rice, then poured it in the rice cooker, and Wooyoung gave them instructions for the next dish.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Do you need help whipping your egg whites?”
Yeosang turned around, and saw that Wooyoung had finished going around giving advice to his students. He was smiling gently at him, and Yeosang noticed that they were the same height, so he wasn’t looking down or up at him. He didn’t know why, but this simple fact made him flustered. Hongjoong had given up on whipping the egg whites, and he was sitting down with a defeated expression on his face. Yeosang had no idea how to properly beat the egg whites, and he gave the whip and the bowl to Wooyoung, who delicately took it and started whipping.
“You have to be firm, but still gentle. It takes a long time to get used to it, and the process is also long, but you shouldn’t give up, unlike a certain someone,” Wooyoung said, sending a stinky glance at Hongjoong, who stuck his tongue out and scrunched his face at him.
“I’ve never done it before… I’m a mess in the kitchen,” Yeosang replied with a disappointed face.
“Maybe you need more lessons?” Wooyoung asked, whipping the egg whites with an expert wrist movement. “I’d be more than happy to see you again,” he added with a wink.
Yeosang stammered with his answer, but he still managed to say he would think about it. When he felt Wooyoung’s hand on the small of his back, he almost flinched, as he wasn’t used to physical contact, but somehow he relaxed in the touch instead. He was bewildered by his own reaction, and he blushed a deep red, and he felt Wooyoung leaning closer to him and whispering in his ear:
“Please come next Saturday.”
Yeosang stuttered, but he found out he wanted to see him again. Wooyoung looked at him like he had heard his thoughts, and Yeosang noticed that the cook instructor’s eyes were asymmetric, and he found it weirdly attractive, like he had different expressions; a doe eye and a siren eye. He had a strong and long nose with an alluring slope, and full plush lips. Wooyoung was so beautiful, with his long black hair that was framing a really open face, like he was wearing his heart on his sleeve. He looked like a nice person to get along with.
“I will.”
Wooyoung beamed at him, then gave him back the bowl of beaten egg whites, and told Hongjoong to ‘move his ass and participate’, so his friend reluctantly stood up and came back to help Yeosang. He himself was feeling tired, as his work week had been intense, and he had concentrated really hard on his cooking lesson. Even if Wooyoung’s explanations were clear and precise, Hongjoong and Yeosang had almost messed up half of the meal, and Wooyoung had to come to their rescue more than once. But he always did so with a kind smile and a cheerful laughter.
When the class ended, Yeosang had to quench his disappointment that he wasn’t going to see Wooyoung for a week. The cooking instructor bid his farewells to the group, and they all went outside with their arms full of containers with the food they had cooked and baked during the class. Yeosang was about to get into his car, but Wooyoung called out his name. Yeosang turned around after putting the food containers in his trunk, and, surprised, came closer to the cooking instructor, wondering what it was about.
Wooyoung took a card out of the pocket of his apron, and put it gently into Yeosang’s hand, who took it. He was a bit stunned, and he looked at the business card to see that Wooyoung’s number was scribbled on it. He gave him a questioning look, but Wooyoung answered with a soft smile.
“If you need someone to come and cook for you, just give me a call. Or a text. Or even a telepathic thought. I would make a banquet for you,” he said, sliding his fingers on the back of Yeosang’s hand.
“Am I that much of a disaster?” Yeosang inquired with an anxious face.
“You’re an oblivious one, aren’t you?” Wooyoung smiled.
Yeosang made a face; he really didn’t understand, but Wooyoung’s smile was lovely, so he smiled back. He put the business card in the pocket of his cardigan. Hongjoong was staying back, looking at them with a gentle expression on his face. Yeosang waved at him, and then said his goodbyes to Wooyoung, who had a secretive smile on his face. Yeosang went into his car and started off his engine, planning to go to Yunho’s and Mingi’s apartment.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“No wonder he said you were oblivious, Yeosangie,” said Yunho, a desperate expression on his boyish face.
“What do you mean?” Yeosang asked, confused to the hell and back.
“He was obviously flirting with you,” Jongho gently explained.
“No? He was just being polite?” Yeosang replied, bewildered.
Mingi and San audibly groaned, while Yunho was shaking his head in disbelief. Jongho sighed, and took Yeosang’s hand in his.
“I’m gonna literally hold your hand when I say this, but you are one of the most beautiful people in the world.”
“You know I don’t like it when you make fun of me,” Yeosang answered with a sad face.
“Yeosangie, I wish you could see yourself in our eyes,” Mingi said, patting Yeosang’s hair.
It wasn’t like Yeosang didn’t believe them, but he didn’t seem to understand what they could see in him. He thought it was just friendship feelings and the need to call him cute, handsome, or even gorgeous, it wasn’t like his best friends were gonna call him ugly, right? So he didn’t trust their judgment about him, even if he loved them to the moon and back.
“Okay but this is so good, Yeosangie,” San exclaimed, taking another bite of the matcha cake.
That, he trusted. Wooyoung had been so gentle with his help and explanations that the meal he brought his friends for his birthday had turned out to be delicious. He didn’t forget to say thank you to Mingi for booking the session, and his friend had smiled so wide he had a gummy grin and his eyes had become happy slants. Yunho and San were wolfing down their slice of cake, while Jongho cut another slice for everyone with the role of the very polite youngest of their group.
“Okay, time to celebrate you with a drink, Yeosangie!” Mingi shouted, getting the beer and the soju out of the fridge.
They all cheered, and they drank to congratulate Yeosang on another successful year.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Yeosang woke up the next day Yunho’s and Mingi’s couch. He was sluggish, groggy, but at least his head wasn’t pounding. He stretched with a whine, and tried to smooth out the wrinkles of his shirt. Thank god he came by car, or the walk home was going to be embarrassing, as it was notorious that you would see everyone you ever knew during the walk of shame. He put his shoes on and went down to the nearest bakery to get french pastries for everyone, as a way to thank them for his birthday party.
When he came back, Mingi was making a large pot of coffee. Yunho came out of the bathroom at the same moment, looking refreshed, drying his wet hair with a small towel. He leaned on Mingi, putting his head in the crook of his neck, and Mingi barely had to turn his head to deposit a kiss on the top of his hair. They looked so cute, but Yeosang wasn’t full of envy, just content to witness the happiness of his friends.
He had come to like his life of eternal celibacy, as he cherished his time alone and his own antics. He had always felt like he annoyed his partners with his quirks and strict habits, but not his friends, who always found him precious and would never say hurtful words to him. He loved them so fiercely, so they were always his top priorities, and then his job, and then on the third place of the podium, would be his boyfriend of the moment. Who really didn’t like to be third.
His friends always told him he would find someone who matched his energy, and Yeosang wanted to believe them. It was not like he was aromantic, as he would feel romantic love for every one of his relationships, but nothing had really clicked until now.
He set on putting the pastries on a tray, and went to the guest bedroom to gently wake up San and Jongho. Their limbs were entangled in each other, as San had great difficulty to sleep without holding something, but it was much more surprising to see that Jongho was sleeping well wrapped in his boyfriend’s arms, as he wasn’t that fond of physical contact, like Yeosang.
Yeosang shook San’s arm, who answered with a “no”, and held Jongho even closer. Poor Jongho couldn’t breathe anymore, and he extirpated himself from San’s arms, looking bewildered. He looked at his sleeping boyfriend, then at Yeosang, who smiled at him and bid him good morning quietly. Jongho wasn’t really the patient type, because he shook San hard until he whined that he wanted to sleep more. But Jongho was having none of that, so he started to tickle him until San was gasping for air and laughing hysterically.
“Okay! Okay I give up, I’ll get up!” San laughed, and the three of them went to the living room, guided by the nice coffee scent tingling their nostrils.
Yeosang sat down beside Yunho, who ruffled his hair gently and poured him a cup of coffee. He added milk and sugar in his cup, and sipped his warm drink with a sigh of contentment. He looked at his friends and was happy, but there was something in his heart, that unkind voice, that whispered that he was lonely and unlovable. But he quenched it with a vengeance. He wasn’t about to let that little voice ruin his day.
After drinking and eating the pastries, Yeosang, San and Jongho went on their way. Yeosang waved at Mingi and Yunho who were looking at them perched on their balcony, and he say goodbye to his two other friends, before getting into his car and driving home. He had brought some tupperwares containing food and his birthday presents home, and he had all the difficulty in the world to carry everything back to his apartment. But he managed to do it in one trip, and put everything into the fridge, before sitting on his carpeted floors with his birthday haul.
He got a new red tiny speaker, two fountain pens, a worn out leather notebook, and an extensive skincare routine that he liked. He let out a happy noise, and settled himself on the coffee table to write in the notebook with one of the pens, connecting his phone to the speaker. He wrote down his every thought, loving the way the tip of the pain was gliding elegantly on the white page. But after concentrating for a moment, his mind went to his morning yesterday with Wooyoung. He thought about his bright smile, his cute laugh, the way his face scrunched up when he was giving them pointers or praises.
So he went to his cardigan, rummaged through the pocket and fished out the business card. He went back to sit on the floor in front of his coffee table. He thought that maybe waiting for a day was acceptable as he didn’t want to seem too greedy, even if he didn’t expect anything out of it, maybe a meaningful friendship. He remembered that his friends were convinced that Wooyoung was trying to make a move on him, but Yeosang didn’t believe so. He saved Wooyoung’s information in his phone, and shot him a short text.
Barely two minutes later, he had an answer. He wanted to wait until opening it, since the cooking instructor would see that he had read the message, but after a few seconds he couldn’t take it anymore. The message only read: ‘hello beautiful. Thank you for sending me a message’. Yeosang blushed at the compliment. They went back and forth until Yeosang had to take a shower. When he was washing up, he exhaled a long sigh of contentment, and thought that he was excited to get a new message from the cooking instructor.
He exited the bathroom wrapped in a plush bathrobe, and took his phone from the table and cuddled with a cushion on his dark red couch. Wooyoung had sent him pictures of his black cat, and was sending multiple texts at once. Yeosang could have felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of messages, but he only found it cute.
He learned that Wooyoung and him had lots of common interests, and the last text from him asked him what kind of job he did. Yeosang shot him a quick answer, saying that he was an international law attorney, and that he handled lots of cases about violations of human rights. That he loved his job, but the court scared him still, and he asked Wooyoung if he had any pointers on how not to be scared of talking in front of a crowd, but Wooyoung only answered: ‘imagine them naked’. That made Yeosang laugh, and he sent a thank you text. The bubble that showed when someone was answering a message appeared, then vanished, then appeared again.
For a few minutes, Yeosang looked at the bubble, something like anxiety in the pit of his stomach. He was starting to like Wooyoung, but he didn’t want to fuck it up by seeming too needy, or too distant. He had never really known how to be casual. He was an all or nothing kind of person. He tried to shut the part of him that got disappointed when Wooyoung didn’t answer anything. But he shook himself like a dog and went to his fridge to get a slice of cake, as a treat.
His phone pinged while he was in the middle of cutting a piece of the cake, and he got excited like a little boy. The text made Yeosang blush, and he read it a few times, just to be sure.
‘I would like to get a coffee with you sometime this week. Would you be down?’
Yeosang let out a squeal, not knowing if he was really happy or really anxious. Wooyoung had a very direct of saying things that made Yeosang think that he was maybe, a tiny bit, interested in him. But his friends had also brainwashed him into thinking so. He didn’t know if he was ready to give up on his calm celibacy, so he didn’t try to think a lot about it and answered a quick yes. Wooyoung answered with a happy emoji.
This night, Yeosang fell asleep a smile on his lips, full of cake and happy feelings.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“So I’m telling you, he just took the pan that was on fire and threw it from the third floor!”
Yeosang was laughing so hard that he was clutching his tummy, having a hard time to breathe between fits of giggles. Wooyoung had so many stories to tell, and he was reminiscing them in the funniest way. If Yeosang didn’t know yet that the cook instructor was someone who talked a lot, now he did. But Wooyoung was also interested in Yeosang’slife, he kept asking about his family, his work, his friends, and smiling at each of his answers so wide Yeosang thought he was going to unhinge his jaw.
It was also like he had searched ‘what kind of weird questions to ask your coffee date’ because they were getting wilder and wilder. Yeosang had to answer things like ‘how old were you when you stopped believing in Santa?’ or ‘What’s the worst and the best reasons you’ve ever called out of work for the day?’, to which he answered 5 years old because he had seen his dad changing into a Santa costume, and that he had skipped work for his older sister’s wedding, and once because he had found a stray dog in front of his building.
Yeosang was curious about Wooyoung’s life too, of course, and he asked him all the questions he didn’t get to ask by text, and learned many things about his life as a cook instructor. For example that he used to work for rich people cooking their everyday meals and would work for four months and then would live comfortably for the rest of the year. Everything was going so well that Yeosang couldn’t hide his disappointment when the coffee date was over. He needed to do some groceries, and work on a case, while Wooyoung needed to gather the supplies for next week’s cooking lesson.
They took their time saying their goodbyes, and Wooyoung took Yeosang’s hands in his and squeezed his fingers. For once, he was silent, looking at his date with a mix of glee and determination. His full lips were so beautiful, Yeosang thought to himself. He didn’t know how to name this blooming relationship, but he knew he wanted to see Wooyoung again. But they had busy lives, and could only see each other on Saturday, for the next cooking class.
“I can’t wait to see you again,” said Wooyoung, taking one of Yeosang’s hand and bringing it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles like he was a king.
Yeosang felt himself blush, a wave of shyness washing over him, but he couldn’t deny that he loved the feeling. His lips were soft on his hand, and he suddenly had the urge to kiss him senseless. Right at this instant, Wooyoung pulled him into a hug, and kissed him on his birthmark. That felt funny, foreign, but not in a bad way. No one had kissed him there before. He looked at Wooyoung, who was smiling gently at him, and there was the hint of a blush on his cheekbones. He was so beautiful, with his long hair and his face full of mirth. Yeosang touched his birthmark, dazed.
“I love your birthmark. It looks like you were kissed by an angel.”
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Wooyoung and Yeosang texted everyday until Saturday came around the corner. They would send each other’s selfies, pictures of the sky, Wooyoung’s cat’s antics, their coffees and cakes, pictures that didn’t make it to their Instagram. They would go from good morning to good night, and each day felt like a gift for Yeosang. His friends had seen the change in him and teased him to no end, but would seriously say that he could do it and take that next step in their relationship.
When it was finally the day of the cooking glass, Yeosang was vibrating, skin buzzing like he had been shocked. He chose his outfit carefully, something that would pop off even under the apron they were required to put on. He chose a silky white shirt, one of his favorites, and tucked into black jeans that hugged his waist and made his legs look longer. He buckled a black and gold belt around his hips, and put on black polished ankle boots. His palms felt clammy, he hadn’t been that nervous in a while, even in front of the court.
He was the first one to arrive, he was ridiculously early. But he had shot up a text to Wooyoung to let him know that he had arrived, and the cook instructor opened the door with glee. He ran over to Yeosang and took his face between his hands, squeezing his cheeks and rubbing his long nose on Yeosang’s.
“I’m so happy to see you! I’ve missed you!”
“We texted this morning, though,” Yeosang answered, flustered, trying to keep a straight face as he was dotted on with the utmost care.
“It’s not the same as seeing your gorgeous face in real life. You really should send me more selfies,” Wooyoung pouted, sliding his hands on Yeosang’s shoulders, hands perfectly curled around the roundness of it.
“And you should send me more pictures of Wooyonyang, he is even cuter than you.”
“He’s my son, of course he’s cute!” Wooyoung whined, taking Yeosang’s hand in his and pulled him in the cooking classroom.
As Wooyoung had left the door open, people were starting to pour out into the room, taking place behind the workbenches and awaiting instructions. Yeosang had chosen the one closest to Wooyoung, like last time, and the cooking instructor kept stealing glances at him and smiling, like they shared a joke only known to themselves.
This week, they were making Italian food, including how to make a homemade pesto, and Yeosang thought he did well, even if, of course, he was helped so much by Wooyoung during the whole class. He couldn’t find it in him to be embarrassed by his helplessness, he liked the attention that the cooking instructor gave him, and he liked the way his hand would always snake on the small of his back.
When the class was done, Yeosang was lingering around, putting his food into the containers slowly, so he would be the last one to depart. Wooyoung bid goodbye to the last of his students, then turned around to look at Yeosang, and walked over to him. He raised his hand up to Yeosang’s face and slid it down his cheek, his palm soft on his blushing skin. Yeosang was looking at his eyes, then at his plush lips, and it must have been obvious, because Wooyoung said:
“I really want to kiss you. Can I? Am I going too fast?”
“Please do it,” Yeosang almost begged.
Their first kiss was something that Yeosang had never felt before. A sense of belonging, like he finally knew what to expect from life. A rush of adrenaline was making his heart beat fast, but instead of the anxiety he thought he was going to feel, there was only contentment and the feeling of being complete. Like he had found the one. He mentally slapped himself for thinking that, it was too soon in the relationship, but he couldn’t help the way he felt that his life had culminated to this point, to these lips kissing him so softly.
Wooyoung barely deepened the kiss, but Yeosang was ready, and he opened his mouth when the cooking instructor lightly touched his lower lip with his tongue. Usually, Yeosang was turned off by French kisses, but it only felt right to do it with Wooyoung. It wasn’t disgusting as it had been with his previous partners. Yeosang wrapped his arms around Wooyoung’s neck to pull him closer, and Wooyoung shyly put his hands on his hips, but soon he slid his hands behind Yeosang’s back, to hold onto the muscles of his back.
They separated after a few minutes, breathless. Yeosang wasn’t used to kissing anymore, and he needed to build his stamina for it all over again. But he knew that Wooyoung would understand, and give him all the time he needed to adjust. It was a big step for both of them, after all.
“Do I go too fast?” Wooyoung whispered, holding Yeosang’s face between his hands.
“No, it’s perfect,” Yeosang answered, and he chased his lips again, like a thirsty man upon seeing a stream.
“I think it’s time to declare ourselves officially as boyfriends.”
“I want to.”
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Yeosang, can we talk?”
Yeosang’s heart started to beat painfully in his chest. What had he done? Was Wooyoung finally aware that he was too much for him, like his other partners had said? He tried really hard to regulate his breath, but tears were already welling up in his eyes. Wooyoung raised his head to look at him, and panicked, he held Yeosang’s hand in his, looking apologetic.
“No! I don’t mean that it’s a bad thing! It’s important, but it’s not bad!”
Yeosang tried to calm down, inhaling and exhaling loudly, deeply in his lungs. He squeezed Wooyoung’s hand, and his boyfriend kissed his birthmark softly.
“I wanted to tell you that… I’m in love with you.”
Yeosang looked at him, completely stunned.
“What?”
“I mean it. I know we haven’t been dating for long, but… I’ve never felt anything like that. You are so perfect, so pretty, so funny, and I just… I don’t think I want to be apart from you,” Wooyoung answered, looking in his eyes so deeply it was like he was seeing the turmoil inside.
Yeosang stammered, then, choking, he swallowed back his words. He wanted to tell him so many things, that he was feeling the same, that it felt perfect, that he wanted to fuse together with him, that he wanted Wooyoung to eat him in a stew so he would forever be a part of him. But he couldn’t say the words, he felt overwhelmed by the force of his love. Tears filled his eyes again, but he fell into Wooyoung’s arms. His boyfriend held him so, so tight like he knew the extent of his thoughts. Like they were connected by thoughts, and he didn’t need to say anything. Yeosang nuzzled Wooyoung’s neck, and kissed the warm and soft skin there. He then kissed his lobe, and tried to find his footing again.
“I love you too. I want to be yours forever,” Yeosang slid in his ear, so low that Wooyoung’s body became tense for a second to listen intently at his boyfriend.
“You will be, I won’t let you go away,” Wooyoung murmured back.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“I think I got the ratio wrong, Youngie…”
“Well, it looks like there’s a bit too many red peppers, but it’s gonna be fine,” Wooyoung answered while eyeing the meal that Yeosang was cooking.
“Oh no… What to do?”
“It’s okay, I’ll eat anything you make with joy.”
“Even if it’s really bad?” Yeosang asked, with an amused but not convinced look.
They had been living together for a few years, now. They had a party with Yeosang’s and Wooyoung’s friends, as Yeosang had finally met Seonghwa who was one of the nicest persons ever, and then a few days later, they celebrated their five years anniversary, just the two of them. They didn’t go to a fancy restaurant, they didn’t order food either. Wooyoung had cooked the food, and Yeosang had baked a cake. The cake had been a disaster, so they had laughed but Wooyoung had eaten it anyway. Yeosang had kissed the whipped cream out of his boyfriend’s lips, and they had kissed for a long time before stumbling into their room.
Yeosang was so in love that sometimes he still felt like he was at the beginning of their relationship. In a sense, they had never went over their honeymoon phase. Wooyoung expressed his love in many, many ways, by cooking, by his words, by his soft touches. Yeosang let himself be loved entirely for himself for the first time, and it made him bolder, braver. Wooyoung looked at him like he hung the stars and the moon, and Yeosang looked at him like he was the sun.
His boyfriend gave him a loving gaze, and answered:
“If it’s made by you, it can never be bad, my love.”