"angel baby don't you ever leave me"
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"With you, with you, with you, with you," Chan hummed to himself as he poured the uncooked spaghetti into the pot of boiling water. Jeongin was bundled on the couch, waiting for his dinner. The two had long since taken a shower, not together much to Jeongin's dismay, desperate to shed their wet clothing.
"Jeongin, come here, I want to teach you something," Chan called from the kitchen. Jeongin huffed in annoyance, having just gotten comfortable in his blanket burrito. His limbs were sore and weary as he walked to the kitchen, and he couldn't help but yawn. The day had been one of his favorites, but it had also been extremely tiring, with so many activities and feelings he could hardly even comprehend. He prayed that when Chan left, the memories wouldn't, for even if Chan were to not come back, Jeongin would never want to forget him.
"Remember this mornings disaster?" Chan asked, cocking an eyebrow at Jeongin, who remembered it vividly. The boy nodded, his embarrassment making itself known in the form of blush.
"Well I'm going to teach you how to make some killer spaghetti and meatballs," Chan gave Jeongin's forehead a gentle kiss, "and it shouldn't hurt your throat, just be mindful of the meatballs."
Jeongin played with his fingers awkwardly. "Are you sure you trust me with that, Channie?" He mumbled, a hint of shame in his voice. Chan didn't reply, instead just shoved a tiny ball of ground beef into his hands.
"That's how we're rolling them, get to work," he said, a wide smile on his face as he watched the spaghetti simmer. Jeongin sighed, still scared he would ruin something and embarrass himself. But he soon got the hang of the meatball process, and he was forming meatballs like it was a beautiful snowy day and he was building a snowman.
"What's next?" Jeongin asked excitedly, bouncing on his toes like a child. Chan was surprised the boy had finished so fast but one glance at the tray full of meatballs proved it to him.
"Tomato sauce, Chan's tomato sauce," Chan told him, his accent seeming more prominent than normal. He handed Jeongin a glass jar of Prego traditional. Jeongin spun the bottle in his hands like it wasn't fragile glass that could shatter to pieces all over the white floor.
"What's so special about this? I got it from Walmart," Jeongin questioned, seeing nothing special about the store-bought sauce.
"Here, cut this." A tomato replaced the jar that had been in his hands. Jeongin grabbed his cat shaped cutting board and a knife from the drawer. He wasn't very skilled with knives or cooking in general, but his excitement outweighed his fear of the sharp object in his hand. Jeongin cut with vigor, making uneven, sloppy pieces of tomato, but enjoying every second of it.
"Be careful sweetheart," Chan warned, distracting Jeongin. The nickname caught him off guard, and with one wrong move, the knife sliced his finger, the blood mixing with the tomato juice.
"Oh shit, are you okay?" Chan cursed as he frantically pressed a towel to the deep cut. It didn't sting, much to Jeongins delight, and he blamed his sleep deprivation and hyperness for the lack of pain.
"No, I'm not," Jeongin whined, trying to pull his finger back. Chan opened his mouth to apologize but was interrupted.
"I can't believe you called me that," Jeongin mumbled, and that's when Chan noticed the red to his cheeks and the smile tugging at his lips.
Chan scoffed, "I call you baby but sweetheart gets you? I need to change my nicknames."
Jeongin snatched his hand away to wave away Chan's words. "No, no, no, don't stop calling me baby, I like it!"
"Alright, baby," Chan said, emphasizing the pet name, "watch the spaghetti, I'll do this." Jeongin nodded, holding the towel to his thumb and seeing the blood seep through. The spaghetti was the boring part of the job, but Jeongin appreciated how Chan was trying to include him despite his many cooking accidents. Chan cut the tomato like he was from Ratatouille, and in no time the entire kitchen was cleaned, with all the necessary ingredients cooking. The meatballs were in the oven for fifteen minutes, the spaghetti was still boiling, with Jeongin standing boredly next to it, all the bowls were in the sink and the "special sauce" had disappeared into a pot of its own.
"How do you do that?" Jeongin whispered breathlessly, shocked at the man's many talents.
"Magic, baby boy, magic," Chan laughed, sending shivers down Jeongin's spine at the gorgeous sound. Chan left the kitchen, leaving a shocked and flustered Jeongin behind. He had time to get comfortable and start their next Disney movie, which was Moana before he heard Jeongin call out to him.
"Wait, did you just call me baby boy!?"
