Sorry this one's so short! The next one's longer I swear.

Also- Four little upvote arrow things?! You guys are beautiful! Thank you for following my little drabbles!

Between colorful rows of freshly stacked produce Jiyong followed closely behind Seunghyun, eyes following the arch and furrow of those strong brows as he examined the wares, amazed at his attention to such a minute details.

“Are your shopping trips always like this?” he quirked his own brow as Seunghyun picked up and put down a fifth plum, Seunghyun laughing as he grabbed another to inspect.

“Yeah, pretty much. All the shop girls are used to it by now.” He say putting it back, placing a different one into the basket Jiyong carried. 

“Why’d you put that back? It looked better than this one.” Jiyong’s brow furrowed quizzically at the new addition.

Seunghyun smiled and picked up both plums.

“Yeah, but looks are not everything; even with fruit. Here, smell them.”

Seunghyun held them up within Jiyong’s reach, and rather dubiously Jiyong stepped forward. Seunghyun’s plum smelt sugary and fresh, recalling an old tinge of spring that long hung in his memory. But as Jiyong smelt the other one he quickly retracted. Under the waft of plum was a musty mask of old damp wood.

“See? As beautiful as it is, it’s stone is rotten.” Seunghyun said placing it back. “If you don’t take the time to look, you’ll end up with a lot of rotten stones and ruined fruit.”

Jiyong could think of more ways than just fruit where that could be quite good advice; even if it was hardly advice anyone seemed follow, himself included. Though if that rotten tangle that resided between his lungs was any indication, it was best that they didn’t.

“And finally, the wine.” Seunghyun said shaking Jiyong from his thoughts. Jiyong looked down into the basket to see two bottles of red wine that each had to cost more than his past month’s food budget.

“Aren’t those a bit nice for just dinner?”

“Nah. Nothing can be too nice.” Seunghyun shook his head, taking the basket and heading towards the register. “And besides, life’s too short to drink cheap wine.”

Jiyong couldn’t help but laugh at the mischievous smirk Seunghyun gave over his shoulder, dimples deeply set under the crescent of warm eyes. He couldn’t help but wonder if it were true. Could anything be too nice? If there could, Seunghyun would definitely be it, if the strong, honestly terrifying beating in his chest were any indication.

“Ji... Jiyong.”

Jiyong was suddenly snapped back into reality by Seunghyun’s deep voice repeating his name from the register. He smiled and held up the bags.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Swirls of coriander and cumin filled the small kitchen, melding with the velvet of wine that left Jiyong in a heady daze. He watched as broad shoulders arched and rolled with the swift movement of limbs, messy hair lightly dipping to the quiet bass that came from living room speakers. His movements were strong and certain, just as his pen was to paper.

Another sip of wine, another ingredient to the pan, and Jiyong was transfixed.

“Can you pass the sherry?” Seunghyun’s hum released him from his trance.

“Yeah, sure.” Jiyong turned and stared uncertainly at the ingredients at his side.

Seunghyun turned from the stove, chuckling at the sight of Jiyong so out of his element.

“Green bottle closest to the wall.”

“How do you know all this anyway?” Jiyong asked to hide the embarrassment that crept up his neck.

“I was my mother’s sous-chef as soon as I was tall enough to reach the counter.”

“Cute,” Ji chided and received a quick hip check in retaliation.

“It’s not hard you know.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m lucky not to burn rice.”

“Come on, those hands can do more than hold a glass of wine.” Seunghyun smirks, gesturing towards the pan on the stove. Jiyong narrows his eyes at the challenge.

“Fine. But if I ruin dinner, you’re buying takeout.” Seunghyun eyes crinkle under the soft rumble of laughter, and Jiyong finds his scowl all but gone.

Together they worked, or rather, Seunghyun worked and Jiyong silently reveled  in the proximity to the warmth of the quiet young man. Elbows bumped and shoulders grazed igniting trails of electricity that left Jiyong’s heart faltering.  He told himself to keep his distance, but the static just seemed to pull him that much closer. He was teetering on the edge, ready to fall from the frying pan and into the fire.