DaeSung hated to admit it, being so bold most of the time with his boastful ways, but now that push came to shove he didn't have the means to prove it.

It was a wonder anyone was still willing to teach this close to the holidays but DaeSung counted himself lucky that he'd managed to get in. A cooking class, and not just any, but on seasonal essentials. After the discussion he'd just had with his father anything less wouldn't do.

Since he'd moved away from home he'd always assured his family that he could take care of himself. With his aptitude for exaggeration, this had soon led to tall tales that started off small, cooking for himself counted if he used the microwave too, right? But that hadn't been enough, not for DaeSung, he wanted them to be sure he was doing the right thing. So soon he'd been deviating from recipes and experimenting, and then he would occasionally cook for friends, before long he was 'entertaining' on a more or less regular basis and he hadn't thought his lies would get him into hot water until his sister had called from their parent's house. They wanted to do Christmas with him this year and, if he had the time, could he cater the whole affair? He should have said no, broken down and admitted to everything right then and there but she'd put his dad on the phone and DaeSung had just gone all to pieces. He would be disappointed in him, or worse, he'd scold him and DaeSung hated to be scolded, even at his age. So he'd agreed, and that was how he found himself here.

“Did you need a hand with your apron?” He hadn't thought this was going to be a partnered affair, DaeSung knew his way around a kitchen if he was headed for the fridge for leftovers but he'd been paired with what looked like a professional chef. Wearing his black tanktop and ripped jeans he suddenly felt underdressed, “It's tricky sometimes on your own.” He was foppish. That kind of upper-class fancy that reminded DaeSung of a caricature on TV. Perfect styled hair, tailored clothing, expensive shoes, he was even wearing a Rolex watch. Why was he taking lessons at a technical college?

“Thanks.”

“Don't mention it...”

“What's on the list?”

“Hodu-gwaja, hotteok, yakgwa-”

“Oh...” Was something wrong? Surely these weren't too easy for him.

“I-isn't there anything else a little more...modern?”

“You mean Western?”

“No, just...I'd like to bake a Christmas cake is all.” He looked a little piqued, his ears seeming to have reddened as DaeSung attempted to scrutinize his reaction, maybe he was bad at traditional stuff and didn't want him to find out?

“...There's decorated cookies.” He seemed relieved in a way, DaeSung all but ready to assume that he'd been right and that this was why he felt the need to be doing a course he was obviously overqualified for.

He found out soon enough that he should never judge by appearance alone.

“It says thirty.”

“Is that liters?” He was a worse cook than he was.

“...Try smaller.”

“Oh.” And clumsy too, “Ah, .” He'd managed to drop nearly every utensil he'd been entrusted with to the point that DaeSung was yet to hand him a knife out of fear he'd hurt himself, “I-is there another whisk?” He was useless.

“I'll check the drawers.” DaeSung had run the gamut from envious to irritated to pitying in all of an hour in regards to the other man, seeing how he conducted himself at the beginning he'd thought he was a professional but it seemed that hadn't been the case.

“Have you, um...have you ever made these before?”

“No, why?” He looked worried.

“Well maybe we should look up a picture on your phone so we know how they should turn out?”

Between making the cookie dough and baking it they'd prepared the sugar frosting with not a little challenge thanks to his taller partner's clumsy misguidance. No, there was no butter in this part of the recipe, yes he was sure, he had it right in front of him, but then it turned out there was and they wound up with dry, hard icing that wouldn't spread even if they tried. So he'd panicked and insisted on adding water and that hadn't helped, only made everything goopy and wet, plus he'd spilled nearly half of it when he was getting it in a cup measure from the sink. After trial and error, however, DaeSung had figured out the problem. Him. So, he'd taken the recipe himself, corrected the oversight, and they'd had lovely buttercream frosting in less than ten minutes. He was really feeling good about himself, as it turned out, all DaeSung should have done was try to cook and he might have found out that he could! His partner on the other hand...

“Wait, did you say two hundred Fahrenheit?” He did not.

“Fahrenheit, why would I say that, I said Celsius like it says in the instructions.”

“Oh...” Hearing yet another fumble coming from his mouth, DaeSung had returned back to irritation and then some. Their cookies weren't yet baked, not even close, he'd put it at less than half the temperature they'd wanted and DaeSung couldn't understand how!

“...Is this good?” They'd managed to move on at around the same time everyone else was getting ready to leave. One dish between them completed in the space of three hours, DaeSung couldn't help but to feel a little cheated, not that he hadn't discovered that with a recipe in hand he was master of mediocre but edible goods.

“...That's the back of the cookie.”

“Oh, damn it, I-”

“Never mind. I'll do this, go take your apron off.” He might have been being a little harsh but there weren't many more days left and DaeSung had been hoping to take some stuff home with him in the hopes of passing it off as cold but cooked that morning two days later. He could tell that he'd hurt his feelings though, just reminding himself that this was a one off thing and they wouldn't cross paths again as he hurried through in finishing off what he could so he could have something to show off, his ex-partner, on the other hand, seemed far more despondent.

He'd moved over to the linen cupboards where they'd hung their jackets, attempting briefly to untie his apron on his own before hefting a sigh at how tightly it seemed to be knotted. His shoulders were hunched and there was an air of defeat about him as he pulled open the cupboard door. DaeSung had been trying not to notice, not wanting to feel guilty and telling himself that making some good enough looking cookies for his acquaintance would go a long way to patching up those wounds his tone had made. He was quite successfully doing so too, until he heard the sound of his voice again as he called someone from his cellular phone.

“Hi, mom?...Yeah, it's SeungHyun.” So that was his name, well it fit him quite nicely, DaeSung had to admit that, “Look, mom...a-about Christmas...I know, you wanted to see me this year but you see...I-I can't, the office called me away and I-...I know, I wanted you to see what I'd made too but we'll have to put it off.” They were in the same boat, only, obviously, when it had come time to sink or swim DaeSung had been much better an athlete. It must have seemed like he'd kicked his head down harder in order to excel from the way he'd rubbed his adequacy in the whole lesson, “No, no I can't do it tomorrow either, I-I'll be packing then-oh.” This SeungHyun wasn't only clumsy but jumpy, his back tensing up when he felt the movement behind him and his head snapping to the side before recognition washed over. DaeSung had come to help him with his apron, “Just a second, mom,” He was holding his hand to the cell mouthpiece, smiling if not a little morose as he gave thanks for the help, “Thank you.”

“...Tell her to come.”

“What?”

He didn't know what he was doing, DaeSung had only just found out that he wasn't a total loss in the culinary arts and even then he was bound to fall short of his family's expectations.

“We'll split the work. My parents and sister, your mom. I'll be doing most of it anyway so it seems like a fair trade.”

“...B-but-”

“Tell her...” SeungHyun seemed thrown by the suggestion, swallowing a little as if he'd just eaten a spoonful of the rich frosting they'd made before he lifted his phone again and started to talk.

“Mom? I-uh...I'd love to do Christmas for you but I have a...friend who invited me around...the office? No, that's-I was wrong about the date, I was just checking...Yes, you can come, he...he invited you even, and we'll both cook.” To the sound of excited chatter on the other end DaeSung could see, even from behind and to the side, as SeungHyun started to smile, those large, red ears lifting in place, “I'm glad, I'll be so happy to see you.” The final knot had come undone, DaeSung pulling the strings away and seeing the man underneath as he the spot, long fingers pressed in against the receiver again, “She said yes. Thank you, so much, really, I wouldn't be able to do it without you.”

“We'll see.” He was smiling back to that confused look on his expensive features, heavy eyebrows down a little but not upset as he returned to listening as his mother's voice didn't stop. Maybe it was because he'd been so busy trying to prove he could cook, but DaeSung hadn't noticed before that this SeungHyun was so handsome...if he didn't keep an eye on himself he was going to start boasting about his prowess at...other things. Only, when it came to those, he knew he could stand up to the test.