Walking into my apartment after a long day of work should be a huge relief, especially since I had seen my boyfriend’s car outside. This was perfectly setup to be a comforting day, where I could take off my heels, lie on the couch with Taemin, and watch reruns of our favorite sitcom.

The dream was shattered as soon as the smell of smoke hit my nose.

I quickly dropped my purse and ran into the kitchen, afraid to see what had happened in my absence. There’s no telling what he had gotten up to; the man could barely make a sandwich to save his life. If he had attempted to cook something, it was a miracle the apartment hadn’t already burned to the ground.

As expected, when I rounded the corner into the kitchen, Taemin was attempting to put out some sort of fire on the stove top. He was rapidly waving his towel at it while filling up a glass of water in the sink. Before he could move to put the water on the fire, I yelled “Stop!!”

“_____! You’re home!” Taemin said, so startled he almost dropped both the towel and the cup. He looked embarrassed, but quickly regained his composure. “Sorry, I was trying to cook and it caught on fire.” The nervous laugh he gave was absolutely adorable, but I was too afraid of him burning down my home to care at the moment.

“Taemin, that’s a grease fire!” I said, walking over to the stove. “You can’t put out a grease fire with water, or you’ll just spread the fire around. You have to smother it.” Thankfully underneath the stove were several lids for various pots and pans. I grabbed the biggest one I could find and set it over the small flames. The fire suffocated fairly quickly, and the tension in my shoulders released. I started giggling out of relief.

Poor Taemin had his face in his hands, clearly distressed at what had happened. I couldn’t blame him though. He never seemed to be able to get the hang of cooking or baking. Taemin was a good student; he paid attention and learned eagerly when people tried to teach him how to cook. Something in the universe just seemed determined to keep him out of the kitchen.

“Hey,” I said softly. His eye peeked out at me between his fingers. “Hey, what were you doing Taemin?” I wrapped my hands around his waist and looked up at his covered face.

“I was trying to cook you dinner,” he said sheepishly. His finger covered his eyes again, leaving no window to his child-like face. Taemin wasn’t very good with emotions, and I wasn’t sure if he was laughing, crying, or simply embarrassed, but I wanted to make him feel better.

“What were you going to make me?” I said, gently pulling away his left hand and intertwining his fingers with mine. It was a bit awkward but I wanted to show him that I wasn’t upset. Surprisingly he seemed distressed, although he didn’t look like he was on the verge of tears. Still, I felt bad for yelling at him in my panic earlier.

He removed his hand from his face and gently rested it on my cheek. “You’re always talking about how much you miss the corn dogs your mom used to make you as a kid, so I thought I’d surprise you with them when you got home. I called her yesterday and got the recipe. You’re always so busy with work, and I don’t get to see you very often with my schedule, so I wanted to do something nice. I’m sorry _____.”

Taemin hung his head in disappointment, which also allowed him to rest his forehead against my own. I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped me, drawing an inquisitive head turn from my boyfriend. Leaning back a bit, I placed a soft kiss on his nose. “Thank you Taemin. That’s so sweet of you. I’m so lucky to have you as my boyfriend.”

Seeing his smile, I pulled away from the embrace. “How about, instead, we make the corndogs together?” Taemin nodded, and I pulled him over to the counter. “Good! But first, we have to clean this mess up.”

Once the kitchen no longer looked like a tornado had blown through it, Taemin and I got started on making the corndogs. I carefully showed him how to skewer the frankfurters without breaking them in half. He nearly stabbed himself in the eye a couple of times at first, but he eventually figured it out.

I set out all the ingredients we would need to make the batter that would coat the hot dogs, dodging Taemin in the small kitchen as I asked him to grab me things from the fridge and various cabinets. It was like a massive game of Twister as we tried not to break the eggs or stab each other while preparing for the meal.

Finally, everything was set out. Taemin watched as I mixed cornmeal, salt, pepper, flour, and baking powder. Before I added in the sugar, I scooped up some on my finger and placed it in my mouth. The sweet grains danced on my taste buds, tantalizing my brain with thoughts of dessert after the meal. I put in a quarter cup of sugar and snuck another bite before asking, “Would you like some sugar?”

Without a word, Taemin leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. I was shocked at the spontaneous display of affection, yet I grinned and returned the kiss. He must have been snacking earlier; his lips tasted like the fresh, sweet juice from a watermelon. “Looks like you already had dessert,” I said, winking at him.

Finally we managed to get the corndogs fried without sustaining any serious injuries. We did two apiece, Taemin’s turning out significantly darker than my own. In order to be fair, I insisted that we take one of ours and one of the others. I cringed at the thought of eating Taemin’s extra-crispy corndogs, but shuddered even more to think that he would be forced to eat two nearly burnt frankfurters if I didn’t trade with him.
 

We both ate Taemin’s corndogs first, maintaining a poker face while choking down the dark breading and overcooked hot dog. I had subtly managed to drown mine in mustard, the tang from the yellow condiment nearly covering the bitter taste of the crunchy batter. As I ate, I had to stifle laughter from watching Taemin’s reactions to his own cooking. He was obviously trying not to gag in front of me, so to help him maintain his pride I asked, “Have you tried ketchup on a corndog? It’s really good!”

Taemin gratefully accepted the red bottle, drawing sloppy lines down the length of the corndog. As he finished crunching his way through his, I started on my own. Having had more experience cooking, the corndogs I had cooked were still crunchy but significantly softer than Taemin’s nearly burnt ones. I could actually taste the sweetness of the batter, contrasting nicely with the tartness of the mustard. Closing my eyes I savored the taste, being taken back to the days of my childhood.

I felt something touch my cheek, and opened my eyes to see Taemin wiping mustard away. “You’re a messy eater,” he said, looking at the mustard which now resided on his thumb. Without warning he wiped the mustard off of his thumb onto my nose.

“You little-!” I gasped, sitting there in shock. He started laughing, nearly doubling over with how amused he was. “So you wanna play like that, huh?” I grabbed the mustard bottle and squirted it at my boyfriend, sticking my tongue out at him playfully.

“Ah! No fair!” he yelled, grabbing the ketchup bottle and drowning me in ketchup. Some landed on my tongue, and I swallowed the sugary condiment as I squeezed out more mustard on Taemin. I stood up from my chair to move away from him but he followed me, emptying his ketchup bottle more and more each second. The two of us ran around the kitchen battling with our assorted condiments until he finally ran out of ketchup.

I was ready to declare my victory and gloat to him when I slipped on a patch of liquid and began to plummet backwards. Somehow before I fully realized what was happening, Taemin had caught me, ketchup bottle still in his hands and everything. His surprised face matched my own, and we both dissolved in a fit of giggles, sinking to the floor in the process.

I laid my head on his shoulder, glad to have him here with me. It wasn’t often we got to spend time together, but when we did we both took full advantage of the opportunity. Sitting here on the kitchen floor covered in ketchup and mustard was not the day I imagined I was going to have, but sitting here in his arms made it the most romantic scenario I could think of.

He kissed the top of my head and I nuzzled my head further into the crook of his neck, smiling and wrapping my arms around him tighter. “Sorry I made a mess,” he said, leaning his head back against the counter and surveying the damage.

“What are you talking about? We made a mess, together.” I pulled my head back and tilted it so I could look him in the eyes.

“Oh, not just the condiments. The flour, the hot dogs… The grease fire…”

Laughing, I pulled his face down to mine to give him a peck on the lips. The mustard that still resided there spread its sour tangy taste across my mouth, making me wrinkle my nose. “Taemin, don’t worry about it. You gave me a taste of home, and I can’t thank you enough for that. I love you.”

Letting go of his face, I settled back into his arms and rested my head on his shoulder once again. “I love you too, _____,” he whispered, and I knew I was exactly where I needed to be.