It’s not like he didn’t know how to cook, or bake, or anything like that--no, Myungsoo was very capable of making meals for himself (He boasted about his “mean” kimchi jjigae that his mother had taught him how to make when she tired of making it repeatedly, per constant request of her son)--but he much preferred when Sungjong made food for him. There was something better about having someone else who cared for you--as well as someone you cared for, mind you--that made it taste so much better than eating alone.

So Myungsoo would call up his neighbor-slash-friend (read, “potential boyfriend” if Myungsoo wasn’t such a chicken when it came to his feelings) if he was craving something and wait patiently until he received what he had asked for. Always, without fail, he would share with the other while they chatted--it was the least he could do, considering the effort put into the meals delivered on a pretty much daily basis.

Granted, Sungjong wasn’t the best cook, but Myungsoo was never one to complain when food was given to him. The taste itself didn’t matter as long as he had Sungjong around to share it with--and every time the younger would apologize for the taste, the apology would simply be acknowledged but disregarded as they ate.

Admittedly, the meal could always be used as an excuse to spend time with Sungjong--to chat and laugh and be comfortable with one another. That was more important to Myungsoo--despite his original intentions since the beginning of his life to enjoy food before company--since he had met the younger.

There was nothing dramatic about their encounter--Sungjong was a resident already at the apartment complex while Myungsoo was moving in, and the younger had assisted with getting the other settled out of the kindness of his heart (God bless his kind, kind heart, and God bless for having such an attractive person living next door), and before they knew it, hours had passed and Myungsoo was too tired to make food, so Sungjong offered. It wasn’t like he could really deny food offered without anything in exchange (Although he really couldn’t help but feel guilty for having someone help him move in and then make him food) so he accepted graciously the kind offer.

“This tastes bizarre. What is it?”

Those words were the first things Myungsoo had to say concerning the food, his mind and tastebuds working in tandem to try and decipher what exactly he had put in his mouth. Sungjong embarrassedly admitted that he tried to make japchae, but he wasn’t the best cook.

“I’ll get better, I promise!”

Myungsoo hadn’t thought much of it, but those words were more or less a promise that they would spend more time in the future. Thinking back, Sungjong’s earnestness was just as cute back then as it was now, when he would try and make some sort of American pastry he’d never heard of before. It was always cute. Sungjong was cute.

Smiling to himself at the thought of his cute, attractive, sometimes even clueless younger friend, he thought about how he never did anything for the other that would equate to making food on an almost daily basis; however, Sungjong would just laugh that charming laugh of his and say it was alright before going back to his Koreanized American-esque creation. Still, he had to do something for the other.

So, when next week would come, he would prepare a great big meal for his friend and ask something not-so-ridiculous of Sungjong in his opinion. He smiled to himself as he had been planning this for quite some time--it was going to be three hundred days since they had met, after all. Three hundred days was a lot of time to spend together, especially since Sungjong was effective at getting close to Myungsoo and getting him to trust him in a record time of less than a week (The way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, as the saying goes).

He picked up his notebook from the table and looked through the list of things to prepare for next week--one of them being kimbap (A personal favorite of Sungjong’s, as he’d made sure to ask), and couple of other Korean foods he knew the other liked to eat.

Again, it wasn’t like he couldn’t cook, but rather, he wanted to have Sungjong make him food. It meant so much more when he shared it with the other. And hopefully Sungjong would agree when he asked if he would move in next week and be his boyfriend.