You win some; you lose some. At least that's how the expression goes, but as Jongdae stares sadly at yet another failed attempt at creating something edible, he's beginning to think that he wins some and loses most. Chanyeol jokingly passes him a ladle instead of a knife to cut his soupy cheesecake but he's so bummed that he can't even muster a glare at his tablemate. Jongdae’s kitty curls pull down further and he drowns out the excited cheers and appreciative moans of the others in the class as they cut and share slices of their own creations in favour of brooding. That is, until Kyungsoo wordlessly reaches their table. His fork cuts through the slice Chanyeol had presented him with an unnatural elegance and he samples the piece, humming around the cutlery between his lips. “Could whip your egg whites just a tad bit longer but great flavour.” Then he passes Jongdae straight without so much as a glance. Something akin to jealousy flares up inside Jongdae but he starves it down. It’s not Chanyeol’s fault that he’s an absolute tragedy in the kitchen.

“Ouch.” Chanyeol smiles sympathetically and claps Jongdae's shoulder. “Maybe next week?”

“Yeah.” Jongdae sighs, eyes following Kyungsoo as the man walks over to another table to sample more cheesecakes. “Next week.”

Jongdae doesn't know how Kyungsoo does it. As an outstanding, internationally recognised celebrity chef with a critically acclaimed French fusion restaurant, three cookbooks and constant appearances on talk shows by demanding hosts, it's beyond him how Kyungsoo still finds time to host cooking classes on Sunday mornings while always looking impeccable and refined. Jongdae’s a year older and he’s lucky if he doesn’t pass out before nine on a weekday.

Kyungsoo isn’t tall like Sehun or built like Chanyeol but his presence carries an aura that demands attention and respect. There's also the added bonus of his handsomeness - thick full lips and dark eyes, a strong face - in short, he’s captivating and his bluntness and charming personality allures any and everyone.

Jongdae lingers around his station when the class is dismissed, wiping over non-existent stains until the lovely old lady from 2B whom he sometimes shares the train with to and from classes finally kisses Kyungsoo's cheek and tries to woo him into dating her granddaughter once more before leaving. Once the door clicks shut, Jongdae puts down the washcloth and grabs his bag. He'd thrown away the cheesecake disaster so there’s no dish to carry with him today.

“Um, hi.” Jongdae greets when he reaches the front of the loft that had been converted into Kyungsoo’s studio where a stage is set up for Kyungsoo's demonstration station. The man looks up from the attendance register and scoffs. Okay, Jongdae knows he's bad but he'd made a pretty amazing gazpacho a couple weeks ago! Still, the heaviness that settles in the pit of his stomach upon knowing that once more, he's failed the man he's always looked up to, is enough to have him shrinking a little into himself.

“Do you need something?” Kyungsoo finally questions, a hint of annoyance in his voice because Jongdae has just been standing there pathetically silent.

Jongdae takes a deep breath and his lips before meeting Kyungsoo's gaze. “Yeah. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for today. I followed the recipe, even triple checked it and my egg whites were definitely stiff. I just- I don't know what happened.” His shoulders sag with defeat. “I know you said anyone can cook and we're all going to learn at different speeds but it's been three months.” Jongdae laughs, a little self-depreciative. Lately, he’s been feeling like he’s wasting Kyungsoo’s time. It doesn’t help that he overhears the judgemental whispers of some of the others taking the class. He knows that he probably has no standing or significance in the life of world famous Chef Do Kyungsoo but Jongdae is like the rotten egg in a basket. He doesn’t want to risk being a huge blow to Kyungsoo’s career even though it’s a farfetched, irrational fear. “So this will be my last class. I just wanted to thank you for still trying with me and putting up with my culinary disasters.” He winces a little, remembering the time he'd ended up covering the entire classroom in pesto because he'd forgotten the blender cover. It hadn't even tasted good. By then, Kyungsoo was used to Jongdae's mishaps and instead of yelling, he had calmly instructed everyone to help clean up and told Jongdae that he could start over or leave if he wasn’t in the mood to finish the class. Jongdae had left.

Now, Kyungsoo is giving him a similarly blank look, one that Jongdae has come to think of as indifference with the slightest hint of annoyance and shrugs. “Okay.” He replies, voice deep and smooth. Jongdae would swoon if not for how much of an incompetent fool he's made himself out to be over the past three months in the man's presence.

“Okay.” Jongdae breathes out, hating how small it sounds. A part of him had actually hoped that Kyungsoo would have asked him to continue, convince him that he just needed some more time but that little fire is promptly stomped out from his damaged heart. “Bye.” He waves and leaves, feeling extremely hollow and dejected.

“You do know it’s Sunday, right?” Yixing questions sagely. Too sagely for someone wearing a unicorn print boxers and eating Lucky Charms with chocolate milk from a coffee mug.

“Yes.” Jongdae snaps, going straight for the beer on the top shelf in the fridge. “You do know you’re going to kill yourself by eating that right?”

“Wow, washed up at twenty-six. Must be horrible.” Yixing then looks down at his breakfast and shrugs. “I’m on a pretty healthy diet during the week and I work out every day. I think I’ll be fine with this once in a while. Anyways, shouldn’t you be at your cooking class with your man crush?”

Jongdae grimaces when he takes a sip of the beer and it causes his stomach to bubble uncomfortably. Or maybe it’s because Yixing has mentioned Kyungsoo. “I quit.” He sighs. Yixing stops chewing and slowly puts down his mug.

“What?”

“I quit.” Jongdae repeats. “I’ve been nothing but a mess in the class. Everyone knows, especially Kyungsoo. I’m pretty sure he hates me. It doesn’t make sense going. Besides, I can save the money and have time to do the things I love now.” Jongdae tries to sound upbeat but fails miserably.

“Right.” Yixing states sceptically. “Firstly, I don’t think he hates you. You’re Jongdae. Even if you do up every class, you’re so cute that it’s literally impossible to hate you.” God bless Yixing and his sweet, naive soul. “Secondly, do things you love include sitting around and moping all day because I’m pretty sure you’re too lazy, unmotivated and stupid to actually do anything else.” Okay, Yixing.

“You’re an .” Jongdae huffs, chucking a throw pillow at Yixing’s face. “And for the record, it does include moping around.”

“You love me.” Yixing grins, that sweet dimpled smile but Jongdae can see the evilness sparkling in his orbs. No wonder they’re best friends, he muses, with a faint quirk of his lips hidden behind his beer can. “I don’t get it though. You’re pretty decent when you cook here. Maybe you just can’t focus when you’re around all those strangers?”

“Maybe.” Jongdae replies with a shrug. He’s thought about it several times before. He knows he can cook fairly well. Well enough that he’s entrusted with food duty whenever their friends come over. And no one ever complains about his cooking, yet somehow, he’s a walking catastrophe in Kyungsoo’s cooking class. Jongdae used to have hopes and dreams once upon a time of wooing Kyungsoo over with elegant desserts and then the chef would ask him out and they’d live happily ever after together. It’s nothing but a distant, painful memory now. God, he sounds like a kdrama.

“Why don’t you come to the studio with me later?” Yixing asks. “Maybe after class we can get your disgustingly uncoordinated body to do something magical.”

“Just so you know, I’m greatly offended by that. What time?”

Yixing glances at the clock hanging on the wall and grins. “It’s almost eleven and my contemporary jazz class starts at one. If you can occupy yourself until five, we’ll have the rest of the afternoon to ourselves.”

“Will Minseokie be there?” Jongdae enquiries. He remembers a handful of people from the studio when he used to frequent it out of boredom. Minseok had been one of the more senior members whom Jongdae had taken quite a liking too. They often sat together in the break room, drinking coffee and chatting while Minseok calculated the accounts and handled paperwork.

“I believe so. Sehunnie and Jongin will be there for sure. Maybe Taemin too.” Yixing scratches his head. He stands and stretches his lean dancer body, muscles flexing beneath smooth skin. “I’ll shower in the meantime.

Jongdae does spend his time with Minseok while pointedly ignoring Chanyeol’s incessant calls and endless messages. Yixing and the others come in to chat with him between their classes and Jongdae screeches when a sweaty Sehun latches on to him purposely, rubbing his drenched clothes all over his face. It’s nice though. He hadn’t realised how much he missed the guys. Jongdae does eventually end up in an empty practice room, the heavy bass to a familiar pop song blasting through the surround speakers and causing the floor beneath his shoes to vibrate. Yixing and Jongin ae having a dance off and he decides to just goof around with Sehun until he’s wheezing, extremely red in the face and he can’t feel his legs. He collapses to the floor with something akin to a whine, face plastered to the hard wood and beads of sweat rolling down his temples and back. “ this.” He rasps when Yixing finally comes over to check him, peering down with an amused smile. “I need my bed, muscle rub and a new body.”

“The first two can be worked out. Not so sure about the last one. I’ll have to check my stocks and get back to you.” Yixing chuckles. Jongdae sighs and takes his best friend’s outstretched hand. He’s yanked to his feet and almost falls right back down if not for Yixing’s arms wrapping around his waist and practically holding him up. With that, they bid farewell to everyone and Jongdae promises to visit them more often (especially now that his Sundays are free).

 

Jongdae actually conveniently forgets about the entire Kyungsoo ordeal until Chanyeol corners him at work on a fateful Wednesday afternoon and drags him out to lunch. Jongdae sits opposite the taller, making sure his disgruntled expression shows with extra disgruntledness but Chanyeol blissfully ignores him and orders smoothies and sandwiches for them both. “So.” He begins once the waitress has delivered their drinks. “When were you going to tell me you quit Kyungsoo’s class?” He narrows his eyes at Jongdae and suddenly Jongdae feels a little guilty. He owed Chanyeol that much, what with them being tablemates and the only person Jongdae considers to be a friend at work.

Cringing, he bows his head a little. “Sorry. I should have told you but I was having a minor crisis and I just didn’t want to deal with anything relating to that.” He explains. “Still, that’s not really a good excuse. I’m sorry.”

Chanyeol’s glare softens a little when Jongdae pouts. Eventually, he sighs and shakes his head. “Kyungsoo asked for you. He said he didn’t think you’d meant it when you told him you weren’t coming back.”

This catches Jongdae’s attention. “Really?” He perks up a little, trying to not sound too excited over the prospect of Kyungsoo noticing his absence. Or was it missing his presence?

Chanyeol snorts and rolls his eyes. “Hold up, lover boy. That still doesn’t really mean anything. Most of the class asked.” Jongdae visibly deflat