Asian Celebrities Imagines

Kim Jongin(Kai): Cook

"Babe, why do I smell smoke?"

The acrid smell of burning told you what your eyes couldn't: your boyfriend was in the kitchen again. When he'd insisted on the blindfold, you'd felt butterflies in your stomach, giddy at the thought of what might be coming. Dinner in Itaewon? Wine tasting? A romantic walk by the Han River? The possibilities were endless and after two years together, your thoughtful boyfriend never failed to sweep you off your feet. For your first anniversary together, he'd hired a private chef to cook you a delicious five-course dinner, then you'd dreamily walked through the snow together hand-in-hand, sharing sips of hot chocolate.

It had been the perfect day.

This time around, Jongin had been incredibly secretive about what he was planning. But you knew something was up when you'd caught him sneaking around the apartment after he thought you'd gone to bed, or coming home with mysterious bags that he ferreted away somewhere. You were more than curious to know what the night might bring.

Despite your lack of vision, the clang of pots and pans and rhythmic slice of a kitchen knife told you Jongin had something different in mind this year. And you weren't sure how to feel. Honestly, the man was a menace when it came to the culinary arts. You snorted, recalling the incident two months prior when he'd scorched the bottom of your wok so bad you'd had to throw it out. Fortunately, the recent installation of a fire extinguisher at least meant he couldn't realistically burn the apartment down.

When your inquiry went unanswered, you tried again.

"At what point will I need to stop, drop, and roll?", you said, giggling as the sound of chopping ceased.

Jongin's footsteps drew closer, until you felt his knees bump against yours. "Ha, ha, very funny, jagi, he chastised playfully. "Kyungsoo taught me how to make this one, so it won't be like last time, I promise. And I only burned the first one," he added hastily.

He leaned in and gave you a quick peck on the lips before skirting away, skillfully avoiding your coy attempts to entice him back down for more. Sliding his hand down to rest on your lower back, he led you into what you assumed to be the dining room. A chair squeaked against the floor as Jogin pulled it out and instructed you to sit.

You could feel Jongin's warmth seeping into you from behind and you jumped when his lips grazed your ear.

"I wanted today to be special for you, for us, _____–"

Your heart sped up at the sound of his voice. It was hard not to get distracted when he was so close to you, the feel of his arms around you never failed to make you melt.

"Voila!" Jongin exclaimed, theatrically pulling the blindfold from your eyes.

On reflex, you squeezed your eyes shut to block out the dim light from the chandelier. After a few seconds, you hesitantly cracked an eye open, and you saw it.

Square with rows of tiny indentations and little flecks of dark green and orange, you weren't sure what to make of the charred–ahem–crispy item perched alone on the large, white plate. You cleared your throat, cognizant of the way Jongin was looking at you looking at his creation. Eyes gleaming with pride. Expectantly waiting for your praise.

You chose your words carefully, trying to make sense of what you were seeing, while not shattering your gentle boyfriend's heart.

"Jongin, baby...what's–uh–on the menu, tonight?"

He laughed, as though it was obvious. "It's a fried rice waffle, silly!"

You looked between the hockey puck on your plate and your sweet boyfriend's face, grateful for once that you'd taken that god-awful acting class in college.