“I can carry it, though.”
“Eat it before it gets cold.”
“But you’re the one carrying all the bags.”
Unlike Kang-woo, who was holding only a single bungeoppang, Seok-ho had both hands full of things. Kang-woo stretched out his hand and waved it up and down, asking for them back, but Seok-ho was firm.
“I’m not heavy. Let’s go.”
There was no stopping Seok-ho once he’d decided to act as the pack mule. Without showing the slightest sign of strain, he strode forward with his long legs. Kang-woo hurried along behind him in quick little steps.
Kang-woo hugged the paper bag filled with warm bungeoppang tightly to his chest as if it were precious. Before long, the two naturally fell back into step, walking side by side again.
He took one bungeoppang out and bit into the head first. Beneath the soft, nutty batter, the sweet and smooth red bean filling spread pleasantly across his tongue. He finished the whole pastry in no time.
“Is it good?”
Seok-ho glanced sideways at Kang-woo chewing away with great dedication, then let out a small laugh. The sight reminded him of a hamster stuffing its cheeks full of sunflower seeds until they looked ready to burst.
“Yes.”
Kang-woo nodded, then held out another bungeoppang toward Seok-ho.
“You should try one too, hyung.”
Actually, he should have offered him one earlier, but he’d gotten so distracted by the bungeoppang that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. Since both of Seok-ho’s hands were occupied, Kang-woo figured he’d have to feed it to him and stepped closer—but Seok-ho shook his head.
“It’s fine. I don’t really like bungeoppang.”
“But still. Just one bite.”
Even though Seok-ho refused, Kang-woo didn’t give up. He stubbornly stretched his arm out.
“Ah.”
Kang-woo even made a sound as if telling him to open his mouth. Seok-ho glanced at him sideways, his eyes narrowing slightly. Realizing what that look meant, Kang-woo quickly protested.
“I’m not going to prank you this time.”
“So you admit you pranked me before.”
“There’s no need to deny it.”
“Looks like you’ve gotten pretty comfortable with me.”
Kang-woo started thinking, I guess I have gotten a bit more comfortable than before…
…but the moment he met Seok-ho’s pitch-black eyes head-on, the thought stopped. Comfortable? Not at all. His heart thudded loudly as he tried to calm it, mumbling,
“That’s not really it…”
Seok-ho snorted softly, then opened his mouth.
“Ah.”
It was clearly a signal to hurry and put it in. Carefully, Kang-woo placed the bungeoppang into his mouth. Seok-ho took a bite of the pastry now between his lips and slowly tasted it.
Just as before, he came to the same conclusion: bungeoppang simply wasn’t to his taste.
“How is it?”
Kang-woo had asked about the taste, but Seok-ho gave an unrelated answer.
“You eat more.”
Kang-woo tilted his head.
“But it’s good.”
You don’t even know this flavor, hyung. Feeling a bit sorry about that, Kang-woo popped the bungeoppang that Seok-ho had taken a bite out of into his own mouth.
It was delicious, just as expected. As he chewed, the sweetness lifted his mood immediately. If only the weather were a little colder. Bungeoppang eaten on a cold day had a special kind of taste. The warm, sweet pastry eaten in the chilly wind was one of winter’s street-side delicacies.
During that short walk back home, Kang-woo finished every single bungeoppang they’d bought.
Considering he normally had a small appetite, it was almost unbelievable, and Seok-ho watched him with great fascination.
“You barely eat anything else, but you can really put away bungeoppang.”
“I told you I like them.”
“I didn’t think it was this much.”
Well… that was true. Even for someone who liked bungeoppang, eating twenty of them alone was a bit excessive. But it had been such a long time since he’d had them—what could he do? Feeling a little embarrassed, Kang-woo offered a pointless excuse.
“But these are actually smaller than I expected. I feel like they used to be bigger than this…”
He muttered to himself. Seok-ho chuckled and shrugged.
“Kim Kang-woo, looks like you won’t be able to eat dinner.”
“That’s not true. I can.”
“After eating that many bungeoppang?”
“The stomach for dessert and the stomach for meals are completely different. I can eat.”
Kang-woo declared confidently in response to Seok-ho’s teasing question.
As soon as they arrived home, he immediately started bustling around the kitchen. He searched YouTube for recipes for sirloin steak and rosé pasta, then carefully followed the steps one by one.
After putting the bags away, Seok-ho sat on the living room sofa and turned on the TV. The noisy chatter from the program filled the room, but somehow his gaze kept drifting toward the high schooler moving busily around the kitchen.
Kang-woo was so focused that he didn’t even notice the eyes watching him. With surprisingly skilled hands, he prepared the ingredients and continued cooking.
Without any hesitation, Kang-woo’s cooking progressed smoothly. Before long, he had reached the final stage. All that remained was plating the food nicely.
He opened a cabinet to see if there was a suitable plate for the pasta and spotted one on the very top shelf. But it was quite high—so high that even he couldn’t reach it despite being fairly tall.
Maybe if I stretch my hand as far as possible?
Standing on his tiptoes, he tried reaching up. His fingertips almost touched the plate, but not quite.
“…Just a little more.”
“What are you doing?”
While he was concentrating hard, a voice suddenly sounded behind him. Kang-woo startled and quickly turned around.
Seok-ho was standing right behind him, watching his struggle.
Kang-woo gave an awkward smile and pointed to the plate on the shelf.
“I can’t reach it. I think I’ll have to step on a chair.”
He had barely finished explaining when Seok-ho moved faster. Stepping in front of him, he simply raised his arm upward.
With the natural forward lean of his upper body, Seok-ho’s figure came right up close. Kang-woo instinctively held his breath and straightened his back.
For a brief moment, time seemed to slow down.
Right in front of his eyes were Seok-ho’s broad shoulders. Feeling his heart pounding rapidly, Kang-woo lifted his head.
Their eyes met.
His own reflection filled Seok-ho’s pitch-black gaze.
The place Kang-woo had barely failed to reach was easily within Seok-ho’s grasp. After taking down the plate, Seok-ho looked down at Kang-woo quietly for a moment before stepping back.
“Here.”
“Ah—thank you.”
Kang-woo accepted the plate with a slightly dazed expression.
“Anything else you need me to get down?”
“No, that’s all.”
Seok-ho nodded, then turned around without hesitation. His large frame ambled back into the living room before dropping onto the sofa again.
Watching him silently, Kang-woo gently pressed a palm against his chest, where his heart was still beating fiercely.
If things keep happening like this, it’s going to be a problem.
The image of those pitch-black eyes he’d met for that brief moment kept circling through Kang-woo’s mind. But he didn’t dwell on it for long.
Right—this isn’t the time to stand here spacing out. If he delayed any longer, the pasta he’d carefully boiled to the perfect doneness might get soggy.
Snapping back to his senses, Kang-woo focused on finishing the cooking. Though his movements were still a bit clumsy, he carefully transferred the food onto plates and even tried his best to arrange them nicely.
“Hyung, dinner’s ready.”
The two of them sat across from each other with the appetizing dishes placed between them.
“Try it.”
Kang-woo offered the finished dishes to Seok-ho first. He had prepared them for Seok-ho’s birthday. Hopefully they suited his taste.
Seok-ho picked up a fork and took a piece of steak. Kang-woo watched his expression carefully as he tasted it, a little tense.
“…How is it?”
When Kang-woo cautiously asked, Seok-ho nodded lightly.
“It’s good. You’re quite skilled.”
Seok-ho was not someone who gave praise easily. In fact, he was naturally quiet, and most of the time when Kang-woo asked if something tasted good, he would simply nod. So hearing this much was practically the highest praise.
A sense of pride swelled inside Kang-woo. He picked up his own fork and tasted it himself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t bad either. The juices had been well preserved, and the meat was tender without any unpleasant smell.
“The pasta’s good too.”
“Really?”
“Try it.”
After tasting it first again, Seok-ho slid the plate toward him. Kang-woo immediately twirled some noodles around his fork and put them into his mouth. The tangy flavor of tomato mixed nicely with the rich creaminess.
It was his first time attempting both dishes—and they were Western cuisine, no less—so he’d been quite nervous. Thankfully, Seok-ho ate them with clear enjoyment.
And just as Seok-ho had predicted, Kang-woo only took a few bites of the food he’d made before setting his fork down.
“You’re not eating more?”
“No. I’m full.”
Kang-woo answered awkwardly. His stomach felt heavy. It was because he’d eaten so many bungeoppang earlier.
Seok-ho simply gave him a look that said I knew it, but didn’t comment further. As usual, he quietly continued eating until the plates were clean.
“I’ll wash the dishes first, and then we can do the cake.”
“Sure.”
After finishing the meal, Kang-woo quickly put on rubber gloves. He’d just had a small argument with Seok-ho, who had insisted on washing the dishes himself.
There was a mountain of dishes from the cooking—pots, pans, and tableware. Squeezing dish soap onto the sponge, Kang-woo scrubbed each dish diligently until it shone.
Seok-ho sat on the sofa watching Kang-woo’s back silently. A soft humming drifted from Kang-woo as he worked. His gaze remained fixed on him, but Kang-woo seemed too busy washing dishes to notice.
***
Thanks to how quickly Kang-woo moved, all the dishes were finished in less than ten minutes. After putting away the stacked tableware and moving around energetically, it even felt like his stomach had settled a little.
He took out small plates and placed them on the table, then retrieved the cake from the refrigerator.
“Hyung, come over here. It’s time for the birthday cake.”
Hearing the call, Seok-ho came over and sat across from him. With an excited expression, Kang-woo took the cake out of the box.
A whipped cream cake dotted with fresh strawberries revealed its pristine appearance. The surface looked as clean and untouched as fresh snow, and it felt a little unfortunate to damage it—but since it was a birthday celebration, he stuck candles into it.
After lighting them with a match, he sat down.
“Let’s take a picture with the cake, hyung.”
“No need.”
“Okay—cheese.”
Kang-woo thrust his phone forward anyway. Seok-ho frowned slightly, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
“Hyung, cheese.”
When Kang-woo urged him again, Seok-ho reluctantly forced a smile. Kang-woo lifted the corners of his own mouth and pressed the shutter.
Click.
The awkward image of Seok-ho was captured in the photo album.
Only after checking the photo did Kang-woo nod with satisfaction.
