Usually, coming home from work is a relaxed affair for Baekhyun, seeing as Jongdae’s last class on a Thursday is at three and Baekhyun’s shift ends at five; finding his boyfriend sprawled out across the sofa watching TV or reading a book is a regular scene, so Baekhyun is surprised when Jongdae is already waiting just inside the door. There’s an overly bright smile, a forced smile on his face, a coat hooked into his elbow and shoes half on. In fact, he’s so close to the shoe rack that Baekhyun almost knocks him out when he turns the handle and makes to enter their apartment. 

 

“Hi Baek!” Jongdae chirps, blocking his entrance and herding him backwards with his arms while he hops forward awkwardly one trainer on, the other dangling from his toes. 

 

“Dae,” Baekhyun greets slowly, suspiciously. “What’s up?”

 

“Hmm?” Jongdae looks skittish, reaching down to pull on the damn shoe, trying to shut the door behind him and failing when he realises that he’s not fully through yet, Baekhyun having stopped, digging in his heels. “What do you mean? Nothing!”

 

“Why are we leaving the apartment?”

 

“What, is there something wrong with me wanting a date night for a change?” The blond pouts, stopping in the doorway when he realises Baekhyun is not to be budged. 

 

“There is when date night is Friday.” Baekhyun answers flatly. “What have you done?”

 

“What?!” Jongdae tries to school his features into the picture of innocence. Baekhyun doesn’t buy into it for a second. “Why do I have to have done something?” he whines, stepping forward into Baekhyun’s personal space, fingers snaking underneath his jacket to find his waist. 

 

Baekhyun breathes a long-suffering sigh. “Because you always divert the situation away from whatever it is you’ve done. Seriously, just tell me and I won’t be half as mad.”

 

It’s comical, really, how Jongdae perks up slightly at the words. And he says Baekhyun is the puppy. 

 

“You won’t get mad?”

 

“I said I wouldn’t be half as mad. I might still get mad - it depends on what’s happened. Will you just tell me?” Baekhyun is half pleading now, wanting to get this over and done with, out of the way, before he implodes on the spot.

 

Jongdae fidgets, fingertips playing with the hem of the older man’s shirt and he averts his gaze; Baekhyun grabs the door just in case his boyfriend is thinking of making a run for it. It wouldn’t be the first time.

 

“I, uh. Well. I mean. I wanted to make something nice and it didn’t really… Well, it didn’t really work out as well as I would’ve hoped,” he explains haltingly, hesitating, twisting the fabric between his fingers as he steps closer to Baekhyun and thus further from their apartment.

 

Another pained sigh leaves Baekhyun’s lips. Lord have mercy. “Did you destroy the kitchen again?”

 

“No?”

 

Baekhyun fixes him with a look. “Kim Jongdae. That is not a question that you’re supposed to answer with another question.”

 

He actively whines, burying his face in Baekhyun’s shoulder. “I didn’t destroy the kitchen, it’s just a bit. Charcoal-y? And the apartment smells like I lit a fire in there - which I didn’t, by the way, in case you were wondering.”

 

“Dae-“

 

“I even opened the windows and the fans and the AC but the smoke alarm still went off!” Jongdae complains, words muffled in Baekhyun’s puffy jacket. “It was so embarrassing, they marched everyone out and the fire officers came into our apartment and just laughed at me and said ‘is chicken supposed to look like that?’ I just-“

 

“Jongdae-“

 

“-I tried to make a nice dinner, I really did! I’m not usually this bad at cooking, you know that, but I don’t know what happened-“

 

“Kim. Jong. Dae. Will you shut up for a second?” Baekhyun demands after being cut off by the distressed man - said man pouts as the older’s hands cup his face and pulls it out of the crook of his neck. Baekhyun smooths his thumbs over the soft skin of his cheeks, which are slightly red with what he can only imagine is embarrassment and upset. “I know you’re not bad at cooking. I know you didn’t mean to evacuate half the building. I also know that despite how bad you feel right now, you did it all with good intentions. But seriously, we would’ve walked back into the apartment after we got back from our meal out and I would’ve seen it all anyway and been really ing mad.” 

 

“I know.” Jongdae nods, lips turning down. “I’m really sorry, Baek,” he whispers. 

 

“Shut up, ,” Baekhyun’s tone is fond, if not a little exasperated. “I’m supposed to be the one burning down the building with the oven, not you, Jesus!” he jokes, trying to lift the atmosphere a bit. It kind of works, the corners of Jongdae’s mouth lifting into the tiniest kitten smile. “Let’s clean up together and then get some takeout, okay? Stop being sad, you big dummy.” 

 

Jongdae reels him closer by his waist, stepping backwards into the hallway so that Baekhyun can close the door behind them. “I love you. Holy . I really don’t deserve you,” He announces and damn, now that he’s mentioned it, the lingering smell of burnt meat is pretty strong. “How many countries did I save in a past life, do you reckon?” he teases, feeling a little more at ease now that his boyfriend isn’t yelling at him. Realistically, he should’ve known that Baekhyun wouldn’t have done that because he’s burned more food in the last two months than Jongdae has in the last two years.

 

Baekhyun chuckles, darting forward to press a chaste kiss onto Jongdae’s lips, fingers roaming around to tangle in the fluffy tufts of hair at his nape. “Probably many. I mean, you are pretty lucky to have me-“

 

“Okay, that’s enough ego boosting for Byun Baekhyun!”

 

The latter smiles, resting their foreheads together. “But, for the record, I love you too.”