Kitchen-matters || Dachuan & Junsu
The life of a soldier wasn't easy, but then again, who in the clan had it easy? They all looked after each other and after all these years, it somewhat felt like home to Dachuan. It would probably be the closest to home he'd ever have again. The Chinese man had adapted quickly to the small country and it's culture as well as language, the differences from his birth-country weren't remarkably big after all. All that lingered was the slight accent, only noticeable when he tried to pronounce certain sounds. No one had ever made a comment about it though, especially not one of the cooks in the clan. Dachuan had liked him from an early stage into their friendship, and enjoyed spending time with the male when he was free from any missions.
The last couple of days had been hectic, and the previous night had not brought him many hours of rest. Exhausted but yet not sleepy, he stumbled into the kitchen where Junsu currently was. His weapons were already in the artillery storage, though the small bag with nails around his hips had stayed on. They didn't belong with his guns after all. Also, the guns could scare the male he was visiting, something he didn't want. Fear was not something he felt necessary in that moment, especially not in their own camp. Giving out a short greeting to the working man, he looked around and noticed a stool standing in one of the corners. Dachuan took it out and placed it not too far from the standing male. A heavy sigh left him as he rested against the nearest wall, closing his eyes right as a question left him. His voice might have sounded tired, but he was curious nonetheless. "So how has it been?"
