@immoralised sparked: [ chefs kiss ] for noah/sj
to cook my muse their favourite meal.
❛ if i fall, nothing will save you, ❜ he warns between chuckles as seojung guides him into the penthouse. noah raises both hands and tries to get a sense of the space to no avail. seojung’s chest against his back is a warm comfort, however, but as soon as the smell of a home-cooked meal reaches his nostrils, that laugh dies in his throat.
seojung steps back and stops covering his eyes. noah takes a moment to keep his eyes closed, aware that his heart paused inside his chest and that there’s a whirlwind inside his mind saying too many things —all of them the sort of ideas he does not want to entertain. eyes open at last and the sight that greets him is so much he can’t come close to form a coherent thought about it. raw, sheer joy sparks through though, uncaring of the complications and the buts holding his mind hostage.
there are candles illuminating the otherwise blank room. heavy white curtains let moonlight spill inside to accompany the glow of a planned evening. the dining table is set to perfection and in the middle, there’s a large pot of what smells a lot like the sichuan hot pot he mentioned to seojung one day when they were watching one of those cooking shows that always got the recipes wrong. noah had said then he hated goose and duck and a part of him is already scared to confirm the little plates around the pot don’t have any of both. by smell alone, he can tell seojung paid attention to that too.
the slayer takes a step closer to the table and notices the heir also included little soy puffs and Chinese rice cakes for the accompaniments and his heart does a complete turn inside his ribcage. noah turns to look at the smaller man, heart on his sleeve, and words nowhere to be found. what could he say? seojung hasn’t said he did this himself, noah could be wrong and his lover could have just bought all of this for the two of them. he knows better than doubting what’s right in front of his eyes though. that vulnerability sparkling in dark eyes is unmistakable.
all it takes is three steps. noah crosses them easily and cups seojung’s face in his hands. he draws him close, captures his mouth in a kiss that ends up stilted by a smile he can’t hide. noah presses his forehead against seojung’s as the contact between their lips breaks and this euphoric smile gracing his features is just impossible to brush off. words still elude him as he stands, dizzy with this vertigo of standing at the edge of an admission that is scary and unavoidable. he has known for a while but he can't pretend it’s not there anymore.
❛ thank you, ❜ noah breathes out, big eyes bright, moonlight reflecting in blown irises. his thumb brushes the curvature of seojung’s cheekbone. somewhere between the fourth and fifth beat, fear is quenched down to the furthest part of his mind. this has a name —has had it for a while, it’s devastating and petrifying, but if he dares to hope— ❛ you never told me you knew how to cook, ❜ he expresses with a soft voice as fingers intertwine with seojung’s. noah leads the way to the table, heart wild, and he thinks this is it. he can confess later, can carve those words into seojung’s skin and heart too, etch them on his mind through the night and daytime.
