A dash of love
a/n: No actual pasta was harmed in the making of this (just Leo’s dignity and Sangwon’s clean shirt).🍝✨
Pairing: Lee Sangwon x Lee Leo x Reader
Genre: Established relationship, fluff , playful fighting
Word count: 1K
Summary: Making pasta from scratch was supposed to be simple… until a bit of flour, a lot of teasing, and two pairs of warm hands changed everything.
Sunlight streamed through the dorm kitchen windows, painting everything in a soft golden glow. You were already halfway through your little weekend project — flour dusted your cheeks, dough rested under a towel, and the scent of simmering tomatoes filled the air. Pasta from scratch, a rich sauce, and maybe dessert if time allowed.
You were humming quietly to yourself, rolling out the dough when the kitchen door creaked open.
“Smells amazing,” Leo said as he stepped in, his hair still slightly messy from practice. His eyes lit up when he saw you at the counter. “Are you— wait— making pasta from scratch?”
You grinned, brushing a bit of flour from your hands. “Trying to. Keyword trying.”
Before you could say more, Sangwon appeared behind him, stretching lazily as he leaned against the doorway. “Of course she’s making pasta. She’s the only one in this dorm capable of feeding us something edible.”
Leo shot him a playful glare. “Excuse me? I can cook.”
Sangwon smirked. “Sure, if instant ramen counts.”
You laughed, shaking your head as they bickered their way closer. “If you two are going to argue, at least make yourselves useful.”
“Gladly,” Leo said with that familiar, cheeky grin, reaching for the rolling pin. “Let me show you how it’s done.”
“I insist,” Sangwon added, already moving toward the stove. “I stir the sauce better than anyone.”
You raised an eyebrow, arms crossing. “Better than me?”
Sangwon’s lips curved into a smug smile. “Obvious answer: yes.”
Leo groaned dramatically. “Hopeless. Both of you.”
And just like that, your quiet cooking session turned into a flour-covered, laughter-filled mess.
Leo’s “helping” quickly became hovering — his hands guiding yours as you rolled out the dough.
“Like this,” he said softly, leaning in close enough that you could feel his breath on your cheek. “Gentle, but steady.”
You smiled, the corners of your mouth twitching. “You sound like you’re teaching a class.”
He laughed, his chest pressing lightly against your back. “Maybe I should. Pasta-making with Lee Leo — sounds like a hit.”
Meanwhile, Sangwon stirred the sauce with exaggerated focus, glancing back at you both. “You two are taking forever. At this rate, dinner will be ready next week.”
You glanced over your shoulder. “Maybe if you stopped critiquing and actually set the table…”
Sangwon gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Excuse me, I’m the sauce specialist. I have a reputation to maintain.”
Leo grinned, flicking a bit of flour at him. “You mean a mess to maintain?”
Within seconds, a playful war broke out — Sangwon tossed a pinch of flour back, Leo dodged, and you couldn’t help but laugh as tiny white clouds filled the air.
“Stop! You’re going to ruin the dough!” you protested between giggles, trying to block Leo’s next attack.
He caught your wrist instead, grinning down at you. “Truce?”
“Depends,” you said, smiling up at him.
Sangwon stepped in just then, flicking a little flour at Leo’s shoulder.
“Leo!” Sangwon sputtered when Leo retaliated — a burst of white landing right on his hair. You doubled over laughing.
“Accident!” Leo protested, though the mischievous twinkle in his eyes betrayed him.
Sangwon, attempting payback, flung a bit of flour back — only for it to miss and land squarely on you.
You gasped, shrieking in mock outrage. “Hey!”
Your laughter bubbled out uncontrollably as you slipped a little on the floor, but Leo caught your waist in time, steadying you. Sangwon chuckled, brushing some flour from your shoulder before sliding his arm around you.
“See?” Leo whispered against your ear, voice low and teasing. “I’ve got you safe from the enemy.”
Sangwon leaned in closer on your other side, smirking. “Or maybe I am the enemy. Depends who you want to protect you more.”
Heat rose to your cheeks as you looked between them, their hands still lingering — fingertips brushing yours when you reached for utensils or fixing a loose strand of dough near your wrist. You swatted lightly, pretending to scold them, but your laugh gave you away.
The kitchen was full of warmth — not just from the stove, but from the way their teasing turned gentle, touches growing softer. Every laugh, every glance carried that unspoken comfort of something familiar and real.
By the time the pasta was cooked and the sauce finished, the kitchen looked like a battlefield — and the three of you, like survivors covered in flour and laughter.
You dished up three plates, and Leo immediately grabbed them, heading straight for the couch. “We’re eating here,” he declared, plopping down in the middle of the sofa.
Sangwon followed with a small grin, patting the seat beside him. “Come on, chef. You earned this.”
You sank down between them, warm and exhausted, the savory smell of pasta filling the room. Leo passed you your fork, fingers brushing yours. Sangwon rested his arm behind you, casual but close.
You twirled a bite of pasta and smiled. “Not bad for a chaotic kitchen, huh?”
Leo leaned in, whispering, “It tastes better because you made it.”
Sangwon smirked. “Correction — we made it. I stirred the sauce, remember?”
You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Fine. Team effort.”
As the three of you ate, the room quieted — just soft music, the clink of forks, and the warmth of shared laughter.
Leo leaned against your shoulder, humming contentedly. Sangwon reached for your hand, his thumb brushing slow circles against your skin.
You looked at the two of them — flour still in their hair, smiles soft and real — and thought maybe, just maybe, this was your favorite kind of mess.