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The idea starts out wholesome.
It’s Jeongin who suggests it, actually—leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, watching Felix organize baking supplies like he’s prepping for a small, delicious war.
“We should do a challenge,” Jeongin says.
Felix glances over his shoulder. “A challenge?”
“Yeah. Like… we pick ingredients for each other.” Jeongin’s eyes light up in that way that means he’s already ten steps ahead. “And then we have to make something with whatever we’re given.”
Felix pauses. Considers. Immediately intrigued. “How long do we get?”
Jeongin thinks for half a second. “Three hours.”
Felix’s mouth curves into a grin. “Okay, that doesn’t sound too bad.”
Jeongin beams. “Thank you.”
They end up at the grocery store ten minutes later, both pretending this is a casual errand and not a deeply personal test of how well they know each other.
They split up at the entrance.
“No peeking,” Jeongin says, already backing away.
Felix salutes him. “May the best baker win.”
Jeongin snorts. “You’re competitive for someone who pretends to be chill.”
Felix waits until Jeongin disappears down the baking aisle before muttering, “I’m extremely competitive,” and grabbing a cart.
⸻
Felix takes this seriously.
He wanders slowly, thoughtfully, like he’s curating a personality quiz in ingredient form. He wants to challenge Jeongin, but not sabotage him. That wouldn’t be fun. This is about watching Jeongin create. Adapt. Surprise him.
He picks up cocoa powder, turns it over in his hands. Too easy.
He puts it back.
Instead, he chooses things that feel very Jeongin: citrusy, bright, a little unexpected. Lemons. Honey. Almond flour. He hesitates, then adds a small jar of lavender buds because he knows Jeongin will either curse his name or light up at the challenge.
He tosses in eggs, butter, sugar—he’s not a monster—and then, on a whim, a bottle of rose water.
Felix stares at it for a moment, then nods decisively. “You can do this,” he murmurs, as if Jeongin can hear him from three aisles away.
⸻
Jeongin, meanwhile, is being a menace.
He pushes his cart with purpose, lips pursed in concentration. He wants to mess with Felix a little. Just enough to see that cute furrow between his brows when he’s trying to figure something out.
He grabs dark chocolate first. Obviously.
Then chili powder.
He grins to himself.
“Relax,” he tells the imaginary version of Felix in his head. “I’m not evil.”
He adds cinnamon. Vanilla beans. Espresso powder. Heavy cream. Flour, sugar, butter—again, he’s not a monster. He considers sprinkles, then decides against it.
At the last second, he grabs a jar of fudge sauce and tosses it in with a flourish.
“For chaos,” he says quietly.
They meet back up at the checkout, carts angled away from each other like a bad spy movie.
“No looking,” Felix warns.
Jeongin gasps. “I would never.”
Felix raises an eyebrow. “You literally would.”
They pay, still hiding their spoils, giggling like they’re smuggling secrets instead of baking ingredients.
⸻
Back at the dorm kitchen, they set everything up with ceremony.
They place their bags on opposite sides of the counter. Felix pulls out his phone and sets a timer.
“Three hours,” he announces. “When it goes off, whatever you have is what you have.”
Jeongin cracks his knuckles. “I’m ready.”
“On three,” Felix says. “One… two… three!”
They swap bags.
Jeongin immediately pulls out the lemons and laughs. “Oh. You’re doing this to me.”
Felix watches Jeongin inspect the lavender with visible amusement. “I believe in you.”
Jeongin narrows his eyes. “You shouldn’t.”
Felix opens his own bag and freezes.
He lifts the chili powder slowly, staring at it like it might bite him.
Jeongin leans over the counter. “Listen. Trust the process.”
“You added chili powder to my baking challenge,” Felix says, incredulous.
“And chocolate,” Jeongin says cheerfully. “You’re welcome.”
Felix exhales, already smiling. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” Jeongin says, tapping the counter, “you love me.”
Felix doesn’t even hesitate. “Yeah.”
They get to work.
⸻
The first hour is… shockingly productive.
Felix moves with practiced ease, tying an apron around his waist, pulling his hair back. He measures ingredients carefully, humming under his breath as he experiments—dark chocolate with espresso, a hint of cinnamon, a careful pinch of chili.
Jeongin watches him from across the kitchen, pretending to focus on zesting lemons while absolutely not doing that.
Felix notices.
“Eyes on your bowl,” he says lightly.
Jeongin grins. “Can’t help it. You look cute when you bake.”
Felix’s ears go pink. “Innie.”
Jeongin laughs and goes back to work, whisking honey into eggs, the scent of citrus filling the air. He experiments cautiously with the lavender, crushing it gently between his fingers before adding just a little.
They move around each other naturally—passing ingredients, stealing kisses, sharing space without asking. At one point Felix reaches for the sugar and Jeongin hands it to him before he can even ask.
Felix pauses. Looks at him.
Jeongin shrugs. “I know your routine.”
Felix’s smile softens in a way that makes Jeongin’s chest feel warm.
At some point, Felix lifts a spoon. “Taste this?”
Jeongin steps closer, leaning in to sample—then pauses.
Instead of taking the spoon, he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to Felix’s lips, lingering just long enough to steal the chocolate from his mouth.
Felix blinks.
Jeongin pulls back, smug. “Mm. Good.”
Felix stares at him for half a second, then laughs, covering his face. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You offered,” Jeongin says innocently.
Felix shakes his head, smiling to himself as he goes back to stirring.
Later, Felix can’t reach a jar on the top shelf and asks, “Innie, can you—”
Jeongin’s already there, lifting it down with ease. He hands it to Felix slowly, fingers brushing Felix’s knuckles on purpose.
Felix looks up at him. “Thank you.”
Jeongin smiles, soft and fond. “Anytime.”
They’re sweet. Ridiculously so.
Which is how you know it can’t last.
⸻
The ovens are preheating when things shift.
Felix slides his pan in, setting a timer. Jeongin does the same with his own creation, peering through the oven door like a worried parent.
“There,” Jeongin says, dusting his hands off. “Now we wait.”
Felix leans against the counter. “We could clean up.”
Jeongin nods. “We could.”
They stand there for a moment.
Jeongin glances at the fudge sauce sitting innocently on the counter.
Felix notices the look. “Don’t.”
Jeongin smiles. “I didn’t say anything.”
Felix turns to grab a towel.
That’s when it happens.
Jeongin dips his finger into the fudge and swipes it quickly across Felix’s cheek.
Felix gasps. “Innie!”
Jeongin backs up, laughing. “I’m sorry! It slipped!”
Felix stares at him, stunned, then slowly reaches up and smears a bit of flour across Jeongin’s nose.
Jeongin freezes.
“Oh,” he says quietly. “It’s like that?”
Felix smiles sweetly. “Oops. Slipped.”
Jeongin lunges.
The kitchen devolves into chaos.
There’s flour in the air, on the counters, on their clothes. Jeongin manages to get a streak of fudge across Felix’s jaw; Felix retaliates by dusting Jeongin’s hair white.
They’re laughing too hard to breathe, chasing each other around the island, slipping slightly on sugar granules.
“At least let me—” Felix starts, only for Jeongin to grab a handful of flour and gently—but thoroughly—dump it over Felix’s head.
Felix stands there, stunned, white from hair to shoulders.
Jeongin’s laughter dies as he takes in the sight.
“…You look cute,” he says.
Felix squints at him through the flour. “You’re dead.”
Felix grabs him, pulling him close, smearing flour everywhere—Jeongin’s hoodie, his cheek, his neck. Jeongin yelps and laughs, wrapping his arms around Felix, not even trying to escape.
They end up pressed together, both covered in a ridiculous mix of flour and chocolate and sugar, breathing hard, foreheads touching.
Felix’s hands slide to Jeongin’s waist.
Jeongin’s laughter softens. “We’re gonna get in trouble.”
Felix smiles. “Worth it.”
They kiss—messy, sweet, tasting faintly of chocolate and sugar. It’s not slow or careful; it’s warm and real and a little breathless.
The oven timer goes off.
They pull apart just enough to stare at it.
Felix groans. “We just got to the best part.”
Jeongin laughs. “I know.”
⸻
Somehow, miraculously, the kitchen survives.
They clean up—eventually—though it takes longer than necessary because they keep smearing flour on each other and getting distracted by kisses and laughter.
When everything’s done, they sit at the table, plates between them.
Jeongin cuts into his lemon-honey creation, offering Felix the first bite.
Felix takes it, eyes lighting up. “Innie… this is really good.”
Jeongin’s smile is shy and proud. “Yeah?”
Felix nods emphatically. “Yeah.”
Felix offers his own dessert next, feeding Jeongin carefully. Jeongin hums happily, eyes closing as he chews.
“Spicy,” Jeongin says, amused. “But good.”
Felix grins. “I told you I’d make it work.”
They sit there, sharing bites, brushing fingers, still dusted faintly with flour despite their best efforts.
Jeongin leans his head on Felix’s shoulder. “We should do this again.”
Felix presses a kiss to his hair. “Anytime.”