Love is You and I and Us, only Us [hoonsuk/sukhoon]

14. Tale of sweetness

"When he looks at me, the way he looks at me, he does not know what I lack or how I am incomplete. He sees me for what I am, as I am. He's happy to see me. Every time. Every day." - The Shape Of Water, 2017

Fourteen, wherein Jihoon and Hyunsuk discover that sometimes love isn't found—it's crafted, like a delicious recipe, one sweet slip at a time.

WATCH OUT FOR DIABETES HEHE <3

The kitchen was chaos. Absolute, unbridled chaos. Pots clanged, chefs shouted, and somewhere in the corner, a sous chef looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown. In the middle of it all stood Choi Hyunsuk, furiously whipping cream like his life depended on it.

"Hyunsuk, if that cream isn't on those éclairs in thirty seconds, you might as well hand in your resignation letter!" shouted the head chef, her face so red it looked like a ripe tomato had come to life and learned to yell.

"I'm trying, ma'am!" Hyunsuk screamed back. His hair was damp with sweat, and his apron was splattered with what appeared to be chocolate mousse. "Do you want it fast or perfect?"

"I want it done!" she screamed, throwing her hands in the air.

It was precisely at this moment that the universe decided to mess with him. Because, as fate would have it, a certain someone walked into the kitchen.

And damn. Did he walk? He didn't just enter in like a normal person; no, the guy made an entrance like he was starring in a slow-motion music video. Tall, broad-shouldered, and too handsome for his own good, he looked like he'd been sculpted by a team of gods who'd decided, 'Yeah, we're gonna ruin everyone's standards forever'.

His perfectly tailored suit hugged his body in all the right places, and his tie was loosened just enough to scream 'effortlessly sexy', he leaned against the doorframe, his smirk so sharp it could've cut glass.

"Am I interrupting something?" the stranger drew out. His eyes scanned the chaos, finally landing on Hyunsuk, who was in the middle of piping cream onto the dessert like his very soul depended on it.

Hyunsuk froze mid-pipe, his eyes darting to the man like a deer in headlights. "Uh... I... No?"

Phew.

The guy raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

"I—uhm—telling! Telling!" Hyunsuk stammered, his cheeks heating up. He quickly returned to his éclairs, squeezing the piping bag so hard that the cream exploded out of the top and splattered onto his face.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, the man chuckled—a deep, warm sound that made Hyunsuk want to simultaneously melt into the floor and punch him in his stupid, perfect jawline.

"Well, that's one way to frost an éclair," He teased, stepping into the kitchen. "Though I'm pretty sure it's not regulation."

Hyunsuk wiped his face with his sleeve, muttering under his breath. "Great. The Adonis is also a comedian."

"Excuse me?" The man asked, grinning. "Did you just call me an Adonis?"

Ow, crap.

Hyunsuk froze again. He'd said that out loud. "No! I—I said—uh—'mad on us.' Like, the chef... mad on us. All of us. The team. Yep. That's what I said."

He laughed, genuinely amused. "You're terrible at lying, you know?"

"Yeah, well, I'm also terrible at talking to tall, hot rich guys, so add that to the list," Hyunsuk muttered under his breath, turning back to his éclairs and praying to every deity he could think of that the man would just go away.