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Jisung sighed in delight as delicious smells wafted around the dorm that evening. It was so good, in fact, that he found himself slipping out of bed despite the ache in his legs that screamed at him to go back under his covers and into the calm darkness of sleep.
"What are you making?" he said tiredly as he walked into the kitchen rubbing his eyes through a yawn. When he leaned against the island counter, and blinked the sleep from his eyes, he was thoroughly surprised to find a familiar figure fussing over the stove.
A small tune of some 90s girl group leaked out of an old radio that sat on an empty shelf, and a broken tune flowed from the chef's lips, matching the melody. "Kimchi jjigae," was the reply he got, short and discreet, as if trying to get back to humming as soon as possible.
"Hyung..." Jisung mumbled, sitting on one of the bar stools and observing Minho's moving figure, leaning his head on his hand. "I thought you would be out with the others? Or at least in your own dorm? I saw the messages in the group chat."
Minho shrugged, still not looking back at Jisung and moving over to the chopping board where he had cut some vegetables prior. "I thought I'd stay here since you'd be alone otherwise." The younger boy felt his heart skip giddily. "Besides, an amusement park seems a bit too exciting. Today feels like a lazy day, no?"
Jisung let out a breathy laugh. "I can agree with you on that."
There was a short silence afterwards that was only broken by the radio and the soft bubbling noises of stew on the stove. Jisung reveled in silences like these - comfortable and not awkward in the slightest.
It felt almost domestic, like he was a kid again waiting for dinner, not having to worry about an impending comeback or a writing slump. The thought made him smile, the tension in his shoulders bleeding away.
Jisung stood up and walked around to Minho, peering at the food over his shoulder (he refused to mention anything about having to tip-toe to see). His mouth watered as he watched it bubble gently.
Gathering some courage, Jisung wrapped his arms around Minho's middle, hooking his chin on his shoulder and closing his eyes. He felt the older man still for a few seconds before relaxing into his touch, almost seeming to lean back into him.
It was nice to be close to the other like this - when it was silent and calm and warm.
"'m hungry." he mumbled, taking his chin off Minho's shoulder.
Minho sighed, though he wasn't sure if it was in frustration or content. "Wait for a while. It's almost done."
He hummed in response, burying his face into the other's back.
"How are your legs?" Minho's voice cut through the air suddenly.
Jisung startled. "Huh?"
Finally, Minho turned around from the stove, fully showcasing himself to the other man. Jisung quickly let go and moved back so he was leaning against the island, his hips digging into the ceramic of the tabletop.
Minho's hair was slightly damped from a shower or sweat - Jisung couldn't quite tell - and his face was slightly red from the heat of the kitchen. He had rolled up the sleeves of his sweater to his elbows, his forearms dotted with spots of oil, water, and gochujang.
"This morning you said they hurt from practice, which is why you slept in and didn't go out. How are you feeling now?" Minho's voice was soft, like he was asking more out of concern than courtesy. His eyes were wide and so uniquely doll-like, his eyebrows tilted downwards.
Jisung blinked a few times before nodding, processing the question. "Yeah." His voice crackled like a log fire and he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm okay." he said with a small smile, looking away. "They hurt a bit when I stretch or walk for long but not so much when I'm standing."
Minho nodded, almost like a doctor taking a diagnosis. "Good." he only said, the faintest smile painting his lips before it was gone. He turned around again to the food.
Jisung couldn't help the way his heart stuttered. Just watching Minho cook for them like this, knowing he only had his best interests in mind, was like something out of his dreams.
"Chan-hyung called earlier and said that they will eat dinner out and will probably be back late, so I just made this for us. Make sure you eat well, okay?" Minho said, picking up the iron pot with two tea towels and placing it on a colorful trivet on the counter.
Jisung moved out of the way and nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, sir!" he saluted.
"Hurry and get the utensils then, pabo."
"Yes, sir!"
As Jisung busied himself with getting bowls, spoons, and chopsticks for the both of them, arranging them so that the two could sit opposite each other, he thanked Chan in his head for deciding to eat out. As conceited as it sounded, Jisung longed for this extra time alone with his friend.
He sat down, waiting as Minho served them both, placing generous helpings into Jisung's bowl. He couldn't help the sly smirk that spread on his lips. "You look like a wife making food after her husband comes back from work."
Minho's eyes widened and he snapped his head to lock eyes with Jisung. Then he broke out into a smile - the shy kind that made his cheeks bunch up and his eyes squeeze closed. The kind that sent Jisung's stomach swooping like it was jumping out of a helicopter without a parachute. The older man shook his head and laughed softly. "Yeah right. If anyone, you're the wife between us."
A smile was shared between them and Jisung tried not to analyze Minho's words too deeply. Maybe he just said that because Jisung brought it up first?
"Thank you for the food, hyung." he said before staring down at his bowl like a predator.
"Yeah yeah. Just eat already." Minho replied, but it was obvious he was trying (and failing) to hide a soft champagne pink blush that dusted his cheeks.
As expected, the kimchi jjigae was heavenly. Jisung thought that he had never had anything better tasting than the warm soup sliding down his throat, neither at home nor at any restaurant.
He didn't think too much about the fact that it may have been so delicious because Minho made it. Minho who was amazing at cooking. Minho who was a talented dancer and singer (and came with the bonus of being surreally attractive). Minho who cared and loved subtly, but loved all the same.
This memory felt so significant and special to Jisung that he could feel tears prick his eyes as he scarfed down the food with newfound vigor.
"Woah slow down, jagi. You might choke." Minho warned but a laugh leaked into his tone at Jisung's behavior, the pet name sneaking into his sentence by habit. "Is it really that good?"
Jisung looked up to nod, chewing the food through his chipmunk-like cheeks. Minho's eyes flicked over his face, studying him carefully. He then let out a laugh, his eyes folding like crescent moons.
Jisung was stunned, watching as Minho's neck arched back with his laugh, his palm moving to cover his mouth. He then recoiled and plucked a tissue from the box that sat on the counter.
He leaned forwards, reducing the space between their faces. For a split second, Jisung's eyes betrayed him and flitted down to Minho's lips, but his brain helpfully supplied that trying to kiss Minho here with his cheeks full of kimchi jjigae would not be ideal.
He looked back up and locked eyes with Minho. The man chuckled. "You eat like a pig." he said, bringing his hand in between them and wiping the side of Jisung's lips with the tissue.
Jisung crossed his eyes to look at the retreating (intruding) piece of paper that now had a bright orange stain on it. He flushed in embarrassment and looked down with a shy smile. "Shenk yoo..." he mumbled, mouth still full.
Minho laughed again. Jisung drank in the honey-like sound, letting the other ruffle his hair fondly. "So cute, Sungie."