sugar, butter, flour
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 3.2k (wooo!)
𝙖/𝙣: this is a cute little au where han works at a bakery with chan! (i recommend listening to "what's inside" from the musical waitress while listening to this- it really sets the mood) the intro is kinda long- im soooorrry! i love exposition...
𝙩/𝙬: slight pinning, minsung is briefly mentioned!
𝒍𝒆𝒆: han
𝙡𝙚𝙧: chan
It was all muscle memory now, and Chan had known him for so long that he knew better than to trust him with the actual baking of the pastries. He was more of a "smile and wave" worker, the personality hire, if you will. Usually, Han would be up by the register, absentmindedly pressing and poking at buttons whenever there was a free moment. But now that the bakery was so empty, he had the opportunity to poke at buttons that were even more fun: Chan's. Well, not really. Han didn't mean to, at least.
𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌! 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐! ⋆୨୧⋆
Honestly, he was just trying to do his job. He was on dough duty, balling his fist into the mint green flour bowl before gently swiping his hands together. He'd take another handful, dusting the countertop lightly with flour, watching serenely as it settled on the parchment paper like freshly fallen snow.
It was, quite literally, impossible for Han to screw this up. The scent of vanilla and butter wafted around him as he pulled the clear bowl of freshly made cookie dough Chan had made from the mini-fridge.
It was simple enough. These cookies were preordered for some kid's birthday- or...something- Han wasn't really paying attention when the woman ordered. He just knew that she wanted star-shaped, vanilla sugar cookies with buttermilk yellow royal icing piped on top.
This should've been quick and easy; Han had done so many cookies like this that he could practically do it in his sleep now. But...something had been off about him lately.
Being forgetful and lost in the clouds was par for the course for Jisung. But recently, he had become even more scatterbrained: his mind always...preoccupied.
It was his fault.
It had all started a month ago. Han was doing what he usually did, booping random numbers on the cash register, humming a non-existent tune.
His ears would perk up at the sound of the little bells Chan had tied to the doorframe, and when his eyes would follow, he'd be met with a man with a long coat and turtleneck, his ears red from the cold.
It was all over for him.
Jisung would catch himself constantly daydreaming, making fake scenarios in his head about stupid couple-y stuff. It didn't help that this guy had an amazing sense of humor- he'd come in frequently, always ordering something sweet with the most obscene messages on it.
Han's current favorite was the "Fuck off, asshole" cake he requested a few weeks ago, and he wished he could thank him for giving him an excuse to force Chan to pipe profanities in fancy calligraphy on a cake. He'd never forget the face he made. It made his year.
All he could do lately was think about him: this Lee Minho guy, whoever the hell he was, was crippling his ability to work properly.
He hadn't even noticed his arms were moving. He failed to feel his legs moving. He didn't even realize that he was just...staring blankly at an empty counter, a plethora of star-shaped cookies sprawled out on the baking tray. How long had he been finished for?
"Jisung?"
Now that his ears were actually working, he was able to hear an annoyed and somewhat concerned Chan calling his name for the umpteenth time.
"Are you alright, honey?" The 'concerned' part of Chan's mind was definitely the one taking over now. "The cookies are done cooking, Ji..." His tone was gentle, as if he was talking to a frightened child. "Did you hurt yourself-?"
"No!" Han would quickly say, swiftly turning around to meet the face that called out to him. "No, I'm-" He felt a little guilty that he worried Chan so much- and he intended to express that guilt, but the sight he was seeing right now distracted him.
They were done? As in done done? That made no sense; he was literally just flouring his hands a minute ago. He didn't even remember putting the cookies into the oven.
This was a prank, Han had decided. Chan must've decided that Han was drifting off too much, so he made a whole other batch of cookies to screw with him a little. That had to be it.
As he pondered this theory, he'd inspect the cookies thoroughly. Looking for some sort of proof that would actually support this accusation. Maybe he was going crazy.
Wait.
"What the-?"
Something else caught his attention. He almost skipped past it- it was easy to since they weren't frosted yet. They all looked the same at first glance. But- he could've sworn he saw a-
Han let out a small "Uhhh..." in confusion, his head tilting to the left as he leaned in to get a closer look. "...Hyung? Did you make this?"
Six heart-shaped cookies lay peacefully in the center of all the star-shaped cookies, making their own star with their formation.
"Make what?" Chan would muse from his frosting corner, piping a dainty little birthday cake with blue buttercream. "The cookies?" He'd answer his own question after a few beats of silence. "Of course not, Jisungie, you're just being silly now." Chan would laugh. He'd laugh as if this was actually funny. As if Jisung wasn't losing his mind.
"They're hearts-" Han would begin. He genuinely didn't know whether he should be impressed or concerned. If Chan was telling the truth, which it really sounded like he was, then that meant he had made these cookies, which made no sense to him. "Why are they hearts? And why aren't all of them hearts? Why is it only some of them-"
"Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something!"
That statement was said way too teasey for Jisung not to take offense to it. "What are you trying to say?" Han would question, his arms crossing almost instinctively. "You're insinuating...something. I don't know if I like that you're doing that."
"There's nothing to insinuate, Jisung. I'm just saying," His body language was nonchalant; a shrug and that bracket-shaped smile. However, that was the polar opposite of the tone coming out of his mouth; teasing and all-knowing. "Maybe your subconscious made those cookies so you could-"
"No!"
"Give them to someone?"
"Definitely not!" Han already didn't like where this was going. He hated the look Chan was giving him- and he hated how red his cheeks were getting at just the thought of that being the case. "That's crazy! You're crazy!" He felt the need to clarify that. "I don't even know him like that- I've only talked to him like...what? Seven times? I wouldn't make heart cookies for him- and even if I did- which, again, I didn't- I wouldn't give them to him! That's insane-"
"I never said his name, Jisung." Chan would muse as if this was some big 'gotcha' moment as if he had just caught Han with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. (He made the same face at him then, too.) "I never said his name," He'd repeat. "yet you knew immediately who I was talking about! I think that is insane."
Oh shit. That was a pretty good 'gotcha' moment, huh? "I- that's not true. I was just- I was just inferring..." He'd mumble, his words slurring together as his eyes darted to the floor. Han knew he was as red as the food coloring on the shelf, and he hated it. He was only proving his point, he knew. And maybe, if he swallowed his pride for a minute, he'd be able to admit that Chan was sorta right on a couple of fronts, but even if he was right- that didn't mean anything.
"I think you should give them to him." And despite the fact that the words 'I think' started that sentiment, it sounded more like a demand than a suggestion.
"I think you should mind your business." Han would retort back, albeit the fact that it was under his breath, and he really didn't intend on Chan hearing it.
"What was that?"
Han would choose to remain silent.
"Han Jisung, what did you just say?"
The words that were coming out of Chan's mouth scared the shit out of him. He couldn't really explain why; Chan's tone was playful. But in an odd way, it was threatening at the same time. Han decided to start walking back to his flour-dusted counter, attempting to forget this conversation ever happened.
"Jisung. We spoke about your insubordination."
Han's jaw would drop farther than he thought was humanly possible. "Insubord- this doesn't count! You're trying to meddle in my love life-!" He'd protest, whipping his head around. Was Chan actually insane? Did he actually drive him crazy?
"I told you that if something happened again, there'd be consequences." The word 'consequences' was horrifying on its own as it is, but the smirk that accompanied that word mortified him even more.
"You can't make me ask out one of our customers-" Han would attempt to reason, failing to realize that they had already passed that point. "That has to be like- an OSHA violation- I could get you fired!" No, Han didn't really understand what OSHA was; he had just heard Chan use it a couple of times, so he hoped that slinging that word at him would help his case here.
Much to his dismay, Chan would ignore him. He'd lurk towards him like a man- no- a monster on a mission. Han would attempt to run, only to realize he was corned by the counter he had rushed to a few seconds prior. He tried to reason out the worries in his head. What was the worst Chan could do anyway? He wouldn't hit him- that would be ridiculous.
It felt like the universe was laughing at him because as soon as he thought that, Chan would crack his knuckles. What the fuck?! Was he actually gonna hit him?! Han waited for a fist to meet his face. No way this was happening right now. But, no fist ever came.
Chan would morph both of his hands into what could only be described as...claws.
Oh fuck. Chan was going to do something worse.
"NO!" Han would scream once the realization hit. "You can't- you cannot- don't you dare!" He'd hold his hands out as a makeshift shield in an attempt to protect himself as he sunk to the floor against the counter. Chan would only inch closer.
"This is cruel! And- and unruly- you can't! I'll quit! I'll- I'll sue-!
An embarrassing loud screech would escape his lips as soon as Chan reached him, cackles immediately ripping from his throat as soon as he felt nails scratching at his sides.
"You're not going to quit," Chan would say as if that was the important takeaway he got from Han's (not so convincing) plea. "And you're certainly not going to sue; that would just be silly." Chan couldn't even get that part of the sentiment out with a straight face, his words laced with his own chuckles.
"STAHAHAHAP THAHAHAT!" Han would attempt to dance his way out of Chan's grasp, but it was no use. If he jerked right, Chan's hands would go right. If he jerked left, Chan's hands would follow suit yet again.
“AGH! SOMEOHOHONE," It was embarrassing how hard it was for him to breathe- especially considering Chan hadn't even been tickling him for thirty seconds yet. "SOMEONE IHIHIS GOHONNA SEEHEHEHEHEE!"
"No one is going to see, Jisung- No one is even here to see." Chan would tsk with a shake of his head. He'd notice Han's gasps for air, so he'd attempt to move spots, walking his fingers up his sides and to his ribs. "Better?"
"Nohohohoo!!" Han would whimper through his snickers. "Ihihihit stihihill- AHAHAahaack!!" Han would only get halfway through his giggle-ridden sentence before feeling a sharp taze between his ribs. "Dohohon't dohoho thahahat! Pleheheheaseee, hyuhungg!"
"Aww, how cute." And, despite the teasey nature, those words did seem genuine. "Does it really tickle that much? I'm barely even touching you!" Now the genuine nature was gone. He was just being cruel, Han decided.
"Nohoho mohohore! Plehehease, hyuhung- pleheheheheeease! I've hahahad enohough!!" Han would plead through his hysterical giggles, his hands swatting in every direction he could possibly think of.
"You've had enough?" Chan would question, halting momentarily as he raised his brow. "Since when was it you who decided that, hm? I don't think you've had nearly enough."
"I hahave!" Jisung would rush to reply, the giggles still clinging to his words. "I have! I HAVE! Please, I have! I swear- I've learned my lesson- I'm sorry!" The threatening obviously didn't work, so he'd choose to switch tactics.
"Sorry?" Chan looked confused. And amused. Han could only assume that wasn't a good sign.
"Yes!" He'd frantically nod his head, so much so that he was almost convinced it would fall off if he went any faster. "Yes! SO sorry! I'm SO sorry, hyung, really!"
"What for?"
What for? Shit. He hadn't thought of that.
“For…being a bad…employee…obviously..?” It was painful. He really didn’t intend it to come out as unsure as it did- it literally sounded like he was asking Chan if that was the right answer. He was so screwed.
“Honestly,” Chan would begin, and although his tone sounded positive, his smirk said otherwise. “I didn’t want an apology to begin with. So you’re okay on that front.”
Han let out a sigh, the biggest sigh he ever had. “Oh, thank god. So we’re good? Does that-“
“Oh, no.”
What?
“I’m still going to tickle you. I’m not done. I’m just saying I don’t need- or really want an apology. That’s not what I’m looking for.”
And before he could even react, his arms were pulled high above his head, pinning him against the counter. His eyes would widen in horror, his mouth opening to spit out the quickest and most frantic pleas his body could muster.
“N-No! NO- please- I mean it! Whatever I did to upset you, I swear! I’ll- I’ll never do it agAHAHAHAIN-!” Those pleas were quickly interrupted by his own voice cracking, cut through by his laughter.
“STAHAHAHAHA! I CAHAHAHANT- I cahahahahan’t!” Han’s head would toss back as he tried to muster all of his energy, tugging on his own arms like his life depended on it. Thank god it didn’t because his arms weren’t going anywhere.
Chan really was just being cruel now. With one hand being occupied with Jisung’s two hands, he’d use his free one to spider his fingers around his armpit, watching as Han screeched and cackled.
“PLEHEHEHEHASE!” Han screamed, as if Chan hearing him was part of the problem. “PLEEEHEHEHEASE! WHAAHAHAT- WHAHAHAHAT DOHO YOHOU WAHAHAHAHANT FROHOM MEHEHEHEHEEE??” He could admit, that was kind of a stupid question. He already knew. He could only hope that he was wrong, but he knew he wasn’t.
“I want you to listen to your head.” Chan would hum, now gently swirling his finger around and around. “And your heart. You have nothing to lose here! I want you to take a chance.”
Chan would still his fingers. Han would pant, sucking in a big breath of air. They’d stare at each other as if they were having a silent staring contest; the loser had to speak first. Chan would blink.
“Well?”
Han didn’t have the heart, or really the energy, to respond. His eyes would remain glued to the floor.
“Are you going to do that?” Chan would ask. “…Or…have I been too easy on you?”
Oh fuck.
“H-Hyung…” Han would whimper, noticing Chan removing his hands from his arms. He’d slam them down immediately, shrinking into himself. “I…” He was scared.
“It’s…it’s scary, Hyung…”
“What is?” Chan would respond quickly, his face laced with concern. Oh god. Had he gone too far? That was never his intention. “The tickling? Hannie, I’m so sorry-“
Han would cut him off. “No. Not- not that,” he’d flush; he didn’t even think that would be possible at this point- he was already bright red. “Talking to him, Hyung. I…” Han didn’t want to get choked up. It was stupid. It made no sense. “…I don’t want him to laugh at me. I don’t want him to think I’m weird-“
“Oh, Hannie…”
Before he knew it, his face was getting cupped. He’d stare ahead at Chan, being met with a sympathetic smile. “You are not weird. And even if you were…so what? That’s part of your charm.” His words were genuine, he could tell.
“You think I’m charming?” That question was meant to come out more jokey than it actually did. He didn’t know why he sounded so shocked.
“I do, yes.” Chan would chuckle. He thought that question was adorable. “I think he does too. My baking isn’t that good, Jisung. Something-“ He’d clear his throat, playfully shaking his head. “Sorry. Someone else has to be motivating him to come here so often.”
“…And you think it’s me?” Han didn’t want to get his hopes up. He didn’t want to feel that horrible feeling: looking forward to something, raising his expectations- just for them to be crushed right in front of his face.
“I know it’s you, Jisung.”
But when Chan spoke like that, with such conviction and confidence…how could he not believe him? Maybe Chan had actually noticed something he hadn’t, and it wasn’t like him to do something to maliciously hurt him. He wouldn’t be telling him this if he didn’t believe it.
And as if on cue, those cute little bells tied to the door frame would chime. Han would freeze for a moment, staring at Chan like a deer in the headlights, and the “Hello?” that was called from the register in that familiar voice didn’t help things.
Oh shit. He had spent this whole time laughing- now the heart cookies weren’t even ready. He’d look to Chan frantically, searching for answers. Luckily for him, Chan already seemed to have a plan- as he normally did.
“Go!” He’d whisper, beginning to usher Han away. “Go talk to him! I’ll finish up the cookies. I’ll set an alarm on the oven- when it starts ringing, come back here and get the cookies.” He’d explain, grabbing a piping bag. “You know what to do then.”
Han would nod, quickly stomping his way to the curtain separating the kitchen and the registers. But, before he could step out, he’d hesitate.
“Hyung?”
“Yes?” Chan would respond, already focused on the cookies in front of him.
Han would look over his shoulder, a soft smile gracing his face. “Thank you…in advance. You know…in the case you actually are right.”
“Of course, Jisung. Good luck.”
Chan would watch in satisfaction as Han opened and exited out the curtain, relieved as he heard him start his normal “Hi! What can I getcha’?” spiel. He’d do great, he knew.
Chan would put down the piping bag after a few minutes, setting the timer on the oven to two minutes. He’d spend those two minutes taking the original cookie dough batter, untouched, out of its hiding place: one of the lower shelves on the counter. The last thing he wanted to do was waste good batter!
He’d put the clear bowl in the mini-fridge, shutting it quickly as the timer beeped. He’d grin as Han did as he was previously told to do: he’d rush in, quickly finding the small plate of six heart-shaped cookies frosted in pretty pink and red buttercream. He’d turn to Chan, giving him a quick nod and a mouthed “Thank you!” before rushing back out with the cookies in hand.
All Chan could do was smile. He prayed this would go well. Everything had so far, at least. Besides, he knew it better than anyone else could:
If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.
omg omg omg!!! first fic DONE! this is a liiiittle late, so im sorry!! it just wasn’t done cooking yet! (hehe!) i hope you guys like it 🥹