Jonghyun squinted at his pale reflection, wrinkling his nose at his tired eyes and lacklustre skin. The hospital bathroom light wasn’t very flattering, but he knew he would look bad even if he had had the lighting of a photo-shoot, so it really wasn’t much to complain about.

He had fallen asleep in the chair beside his grandmother’s bed last night, not able to leave her side when she looked so fragile in the bluish light of the TV. Well, he had not fallen asleep asleep, but he had gotten a few minutes of sleep every now and then as he sat watching over her. His grandmother had told him she was fine, but by the way she stayed in bed all day, dozing or watching TV, he knew she wasn’t.

He had called his mother to ask her to come, but it was hard for her to find someone to take care of the shop she owned and she couldn’t afford to close it since the hospital bills needed to be paid. Both she and his dad were already working overtime to afford everything and refused to let Jonghyun help. She had assured him that as soon as she found a person she trusted enough, she would be on a train and come help him take care of everything at the hospital.

The situation was overall very worrying, since the doctors had all said his grandmother would just need a few months at the hospital to recover and then she could go back home. Jonghyun tried not to think the worst and had kept a smile on his face for his grandmother, Kibum, Minho and Jinki and just about everyone else during the past three days. He didn’t want to cause unnecessary discomfort and the doctors kept telling him she would be able to return home in a few months, she was just going through a bit of a cold at the moment.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, a message from Jinki lightning up the display. He unlocked the screen, tapping the icon to open and read it.

– Hi Jonghyun! Are you doing something this afternoon? –

Jonghyun frowned and replied he hadn’t planned anything except maybe go home and change clothes before returning to the hospital, since it was his day off. Jinki's next message came instantly.

– Minho won’t say it, but I think he will feel lonely since I’ll work tonight and won’t be home until very late. Is it too much to ask if you want to keep him company? Maybe help him cook dinner or something? He shouldn’t be trusted alone in the kitchen... –

Jonghyun couldn’t help the twitch of his lips at the last comment but the miniscule smile fell as quickly as it had made its appearance.

He knew Jinki was wording his worries in a brighter way than he felt, since Jonghyun most probably had the same worries about Minho as well. It wasn’t just fear of leaving him to feel lonely. It was fear of leaving him to his thoughts, which could lead him to self-destruct. He had seen the way Minho's eyes had been empty and dead when he opened the door the night the condition of Taemin had been re-evaluated and he had been so immensely relieved Minho had managed to come back before his inward destruction went any deeper he had felt like crying – well, he did actually end up crying.

So, of course, his answer was yes. He would do whatever he could to keep Minho in the world, because he cared about him and he cared about Jinki, who was quickly becoming a friend ever since they had started keeping in touch through messages.

He put the phone back in his pocket before he splashed some cold water on his face, pulled a wet hand through his hair and straightened his clothes.

His plans for the day had changed, but it was okay. He’d spend the morning with his grandmother, go back home after eating lunch with her, freshen up, buy a few groceries and then go to Minho before returning to the hospital. It sounded like a good enough plan, he only hoped he could get in a few moments of sleep somewhere.

He sighed and steeled himself before going back out to his grandmother’s bed to see how she was doing. She opened one eye to peer at him once he was three steps away from the bed, a frown forming on her forehead. Jonghyun raised his eyebrows imploringly.

“I told you to go home, Jonghyun,” she said softly. “I’m fine. It’s nothing but a cold.”

Jonghyun flopped down into the chair beside her bed and laid his cheek on the mattress, closing his eyes as her frail fingers combed through his hair.

“I couldn’t leave,” he mumbled. “I’m worried about you, grandma.”

She let out a deep sigh.

“You look like you haven’t slept all night,” she argued. “How do you think that makes me feel?”

He opened his eyes and met her sad gaze. He knew she hated feeling like she was burdening him, it didn’t matter how many times Jonghyun told her she wasn’t. But he still couldn’t just leave her, and recently he’d been absent a lot more than usual since Minho had entered his life and he was worried about him too.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, since he didn’t have anything better to say. They’d had this argument often.

She didn’t answer him but kept running her fingers through his hair and his eyelids grew heavy, making it harder to open his eyes every time he blinked. It didn’t take long before his breathing evened out and he drifted off to his grandmother humming a nursery tune she used to sing to him as a child.

~*~

Minho opened the door and stared, jaw slack and eyes wide. Jonghyun grinned at him.

"Hi," he said brightly.

Minho blinked, stepping aside uncertainly as he pushed forward, arms full of bags with groceries.

“What…?” he questioned as Jonghyun toed off his shoes and strolled into his kitchen as if he had lived in the apartment for years.

Minho followed him, beyond confused, and watched as he heaved the bags onto the table and began bringing out whatever he had bought.

“What are you doing?” he asked and Jonghyun looked up at him.

“Didn’t Jinki tell you?” he wondered with a frown and Minho shook his head. “Well, he messaged me and asked if I’d like to help him cook for you since he’ll be home late. He doesn’t trust you in the kitchen, apparently.”

Minho raised his eyebrows in disbelief and refrained from telling Jonghyun that, except for that one charred pan years ago, he wasn’t a complete catastrophe. He still usually left the cooking up to Taemin or Jinki since they were better at it and Minho only excelled at boiling noodles.

His heart clenched as the memories of sitting at the table and cutting vegetables while Taemin stood at the stove surfaced and he couldn’t help the faint grimace passing his face. He cleared his throat, ignoring the prickling in his eyes, and took one of four rolls of bread out of a bag, turning it in his hands. Jonghyun watched him, his head tilted and gaze pondering.

“Wanna make dinner together?” he asked.

Minho glanced up at him, meeting his warm eyes, and found himself nodding. Jonghyun smiled.

“Great!” he said enthusiastically. “There’s something I wanted to try making, but if we fail, let’s make Jinki eat all of it!”

The answering smile spreading on Minho's lips as he helped Jonghyun take out the rest of the groceries and line them up on the kitchen table was the easiest one he had given ever since Taemin was admitted to the hospital and a small rush of relief coursed through his veins. He had resigned himself to a night of not knowing what to do with himself, trying to avoid thinking of Taemin while attempting to get work done or read a book and hope the hospital wouldn’t call with bad news.

This would be a much better distraction, since Jonghyun was – Minho was sure of it by now – his guardian angel and always brought peace, allowing him to breathe easily again.

“What are we making?” he asked as he eyed a brown parcel of lobster – if the tag on it was telling the truth – potatoes, eggs, cabbage, carrots, sour cream, pickles, lemons, and crème fraîche. It was an odd combination.

“I am glad you asked, young grasshopper!” Jonghyun said sagely and put his hands on his hips, pushing his chest out proudly. Minho snorted. “I, The Great Master Kim, have decided we shall attempt the ancient secret recipe of my ancestors for dinner this fine evening.”

“Which would be what, Master Kim?” Minho decided to play along, earning a grin in return. It felt kind of good.

“The dish even the gods cannot perfect,” Jonghyun answered dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “The Lobster Roll!”

Minho raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. He’d never heard of it before.

“Okay,” Jonghyun huffed and clapped his hands together, his gaze scanning the groceries. “I think we should start with making the mayo.”

Minho blinked at him, looking down at the groceries as well.

“Make the mayonnaise?” he asked incredulously. “Why didn’t you just buy it?”

Jonghyun tutted and shook his head, staring him down with grave disappointment.

“I see your journey of learning the culinary arts is far from over, my child,” he said and patted Minho's arm. “And I wanted to try making homemade mayonnaise. Can’t be that hard, right?”

Minho shrugged. He really had no idea. He usually just made noodles when he cooked since the only thing needed was to add boiling water and a packet of seasoning.

“So!” Jonghyun pulled out his phone and opened the recipe he needed, placing it on the counter. “Let us begin, oh young one!”

Shaking his head, Minho started pulling out all the utensils Jonghyun told him they needed and put them on the counter before they got to work. Jonghyun glanced at the recipe once, told Minho to bring every ingredient needed to the counter and poured it in, no measuring cup or anything. Minho decided not to question ‘The Great Master Kim’ and started the electric mixer to batter the egg mix Jonghyun had put together when he was told to while Jonghyun hummed away as he watched, waiting for the right moment to start pouring some oil in. Minho couldn’t keep the small smile off his face as Jonghyun's humming turned into singing over the course of pouring, mixing, and tasting. He had a nice, smooth voice.

“Why do you have a recipe if you don’t look at it?” Minho asked as he watched Jonghyun season the mayonnaise at random, taking jars of spices out and considering them before deciding if they were good enough or putting them back where they belonged.

He had gone from helping Jonghyun put together the mayonnaise to start chopping the pickles at the table.

Jonghyun turned, the concentrated frown on his forehead deepening as he stopped singing.

“Hm?” he asked and glanced at his phone, which had been pushed to the furthermost corner of the counter, tucked snuggly between the cartoon of eggs and the fridge.

“You haven’t looked at the recipe for anything other than which ingredients go together,” Minho pointed out.

Jonghyun gave a shrug, but a crooked smile pulled at his lips.

“I’m a rebel,” he said in a low, conspiratorial voice, putting a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Minho rolled his eyes and went back to chopping.

“Really, though?” Jonghyun continued after a moment of watching him. “Recipes are more like guidelines.”

Snorting, Minho looked up at him.

“Pirates of the Caribbean?” he asked and Jonghyun grinned.

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “But it’s nice doing it your own personal way, don’t you think?”

“Don’t know,” Minho shrugged. “Jinki and Taemin always follow recipes as if they were the word of god. A grain of salt more than what it says and they break down. That’s why they don’t trust me to make dressings or cut things that need to be finely chopped.”

Jonghyun laughed and turned back to the mayonnaise, pulling the cord to the electric mixer out of the socket above the counter.

“Like,” he said as he turned back, glancing down at the pickles Minho was cutting, “say, the pickles for a lobster roll?”

Minho looked down at what he had chopped and frowned at the uneven chunks and small splinters. He hadn’t known they were supposed to be finely chopped. Jonghyun hadn’t said anything other than to cut them into small squares, and while he hadn’t done a great job of that either, it fit the description of small squares better than ‘finely chopped’.

“Oh,” he mumbled and Jonghyun laughed again.

“Worry not, my child,” he said, going into sage mode. “For the secret of my ancestors is just that, to never be predictable.”

“But won’t it mess everything up?” Minho wondered, poking at a few of the larger pieces with the tip of his knife.

“Nah, it’s fine.” Jonghyun waved a hand dismissively and picked up the lobsters. “It’s about taste, not appearance.”

Jonghyun turned to the sink to prepare the lobster and Minho smiled softly, picked out the larger pieces and cut them into smaller bits anyway.

As they continued to work, Jonghyun went back to singing and Minho went back to listening, feeling peaceful for the second time that week all thanks to his presence.

Although, he knew he shouldn’t let the entire thing with Jonghyun continue on and give it a chance to grow, he was feeling so awful the rest of the time he couldn’t bring himself to stop his selfishness. These small moments of peace and ease he had with Jonghyun kept him afloat in a stormy sea and, while he might have considered drowning, they were what made him remember why he shouldn’t let the waves take him over and pull him under. They were what reignited the light that had went out when Taemin disappeared.

A/N: We caught Minho on a good day! :) He's not mister Moody McBrooderson, so I guess that's something, haha!

So, I hope you liked this quite light chapter, since the other ones have been a little more on the sad side. I'm sad to say it won't stay on the happier side for long, but it'll come back again.

Love <3

Bye~!