Chapter Text
The weeks leading up to the end of the school year have been brutal for Chan. There's been a lot on his plate with his undergrad thesis finally making a huge chunk of progress, all while preparations for the spring showcase have started taking shape as well. He’s exhausted but happy to be busy and surrounded by friends and classmates he cares about; they really make the struggle of university worthwhile.
That doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate when he’s given time to himself though.
Chan is alone in his and Seungkwan's shared apartment for the rest of the semester. Three weeks, give or take. Seungkwan is staying at Hansol's to "study" or whatever gross couple thing needs handling, presumably before Seungkwan goes back to Jeju for the break and Hansol heads to New York. Chan decides to study too, and is in the middle of rewriting his notes for a module when the doorbell rings.
He stretches in his seat as he looks up at his desk clock, its wide face ticking a steady 8:00pm at him. Chan didn't order anything, nor is he expecting any visitors, so he really has no idea who the mystery guest could be.
He gets up anyway, right as the doorbell rings again.
"Coming, coming!" Chan yells at the door as he skips through the living room to answer it.
On the other side is Wonwoo, much to Chan’s surprise. “Hi,” Wonwoo says, looking very nervous, despite him just arriving. Chan hopes nothing serious has happened.
“Oh, hyung! Hello,” Chan says back, pushing up his glasses onto his face. They'd fallen a bit off his nose in his rush to the door. Wonwoo seems to flinch at Chan’s gesture, which… is weird, but Chan decides not to mention it. "Is everything okay? Seungkwan's not here at the moment, if you were looking for him. But you can come in if you need—“
Chan is about to step aside to let Wonwoo through, but Wonwoo starts to shake his head aggressively before he halts, looking stressed and surprised at his own action. Chan blinks at him.
"No, sorry. Uh. It's fine. I just, um," Wonwoo starts. He holds up a plastic bag that he had been apparently holding behind his back the entire time. "I brought you some jjigae.”
Chan perks up immediately, taking the bag from him. It’s still warm and he can already smell it from the plastic. “Oh! Wow, hyung! Thanks! Where did you get it from?”
Wonwoo clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I made it."
Chan beams up at him. In the years he’s known Wonwoo, he had no idea Wonwoo had it in him to cook. In their group get-togethers it’s usually Mingyu and Jun who do all the food prep, so this is definitely a surprise; one that Chan finds very welcome. “Did you really?” He asks, still grinning.
Wonwoo visibly swallows. Chan notices his hands wringing themselves by his stomach. Chan thinks that Wonwoo’s reaction would actually be pretty cute and endearing, if he didn’t also look like he was about to vomit.
“Yes. I did. Make it, I mean,” Wonwoo sputters. Another thing Chan clocks in to be really weird. Wonwoo’s been speaking in pieces since he arrived, and Chan has always thought he was eloquent when he talks with their friends. Wonwoo has recently been accepted as an instructor in their university’s Korean Literature department as well, all while he goes through his masters; a fact that didn’t surprise Chan either when he found out, but only makes his behavior even more strange.
It hasn’t been this awkward since they were first getting to know each other, years ago. “I, uh, made a bit too much, actually,” Wonwoo goes on. “So I thought to bring you some."
"That’s so cool, hyung! Thank you for this,” Chan says. He tries to be as warm as possible, because he absolutely does not want to add to whatever’s got Wonwoo spooked and anxious. “You have great timing, I really just realized I haven't had dinner yet. You can come in and I'll set us up some bowls–"
Chan moves to step aside again but Wonwoo stops him with another shake of the head. "No, Chan. It's okay. I– that's for you. I just came to drop it off."
"Are you sure?” Chan asks, turning back to face him in the doorway. “This is so much food… Seungkwan-hyung won’t be home all week…"
"Yes. Yeah. I know. Uh. I just wanted to make sure you have enough for yourself while he’s gone,” Wonwoo replies. “And I have to get back to studying and grading papers anyway. So."
Chan nods. He realizes that the longer they stand out in the hallway, the more Wonwoo looks like he’s about to pass out, so Chan should let him go. Chan holds the plastic container close to his chest, the warmth of it seeping through his t-shirt. It feels and smells so nice. He’s a bit sad he won’t be able to share it with anyone. “If you’re sure,” Chan says.
Wonwoo nods abruptly, and, for the first time since he arrived, looks a little relieved. "I’ll, uh– I’ll see you at practice for the showcase,” Wonwoo says.
Chan nods back and watches Wonwoo slip away down the hall. “Okay. See you, hyung,” he calls after him. He waits until Wonwoo’s stepped into the elevator, not without them making awkward eye contact as the doors close, before going back into his apartment.
Chan is surprised to find that the jjigae is kimchi, and it is very, very good. The broth is the perfect consistency, not too runny, but not too thick either, with a smokey-tanginess that can’t be found elsewhere; the cuts of pork are thick and cooked to perfection, practically melting in Chan’s mouth; and the amount of kimchi is a generous amount too, cut into pieces both big and small, so every bite has a satisfying crunch. Chan is so stuffed by the end of it, even with just one serving.
The meal recharges Chan for the rest of his night, giving him the vigor to burn through his modules. He does so well with the energy that he finishes way earlier than he thought he would.
Later, as he jumps into bed, Chan makes sure to send a quick message to Wonwoo before passing out.
chan
Hi hyung! Just wanted to thank you for the kimchi jjigae!
It was so good i almost ate the whole thing lol
It takes almost fifteen minutes for Wonwoo to respond, Chan halfway to drifting asleep right when his phone buzzes.
Wonwoo-hyung
Hey, chan-ah. I’m glad you liked it.
Chan falls asleep giggling at the response, not even managing to type out some joke or other about how much of a grandpa Wonwoo is to take that long to send that short a message. He supposes he can tease him about it in person. He’s got plenty of chances.
🍲🍲🍲
Wonwoo brought over so much food that Chan has enough to last him the entire week. Before heading to campus, he portions the rest of the stew evenly across three containers for the refrigerator, with a fourth for him to bring for today’s lunch.
Chan finds himself giddy throughout his morning lectures in anticipation of his meal. By the time lunch time comes around, he has to tell himself to relax, worrying he might accidentally drop his lunch bag in excitement.
He’s sitting across Minghao, Jun, and Soonyoung on the soft spring grass in the quad when he brings out his tiny Tupperware from his bag. Both the jjigae and his rice are still warm from when he heated it up in the apartment. As he opens up the top, the deep, funky smell of a good kimchi jjigae floats around them; Soonyoung practically groans in pleasure. Out loud. In the middle of the courtyard. Chan really needs to get new friends. –
“Wah, you have kimchi jjigae for lunch? Chan, I’m so jealous,” Soonyoung whines, even though he literally has a box of fried chicken pops in front of him. “Did your eomma bring it over for you?”
Chan shakes his head. “Wonwoo did.”
“Oh! Nice,” Soonyoung says. He’s about to reach over to scoop some for himself when a wave of realization hits his face; Chan sees it happen, but is still surprised when Soonyoung flicks his head back up to look back at Chan. “Wait, what? Like, he bought take out?”
Chan raises an eyebrow. “No? He said he made it.”
“He made it,” Soonyoung deadpans.
“Like, with his bare hands?” Jun asks, looking as incredulous as he sounds. His hands have paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. Chan notices that his eyebrows have gone all the way up his hairline.
“I… I don’t know? He just brought it over, said he made too much, and then left,” Chan says. Soonyoung and Jun continue to gawk, frozen in place, while Minghao just sits quietly in his spot, a knowing grin crawling up his face. What the hell?
Chan really, really needs new friends.
“And that’s all he said? Nothing else?” Soonyoung continues to prod. This must be really serious to him because his box of chicken has found its way closer to Jun, who steals a couple of pieces before throwing them straight into his mouth.
“Yes?” Chan replies, feeling even more confused as Jun gasps at his response and Soonyoung groans, this time in annoyance.
“Wow,” Soonyoung says. He reaches back for his food and pops a piece of chicken in his mouth. “So typical of him.”
Before Chan can ask what the heck that’s supposed to even mean, a familiar loud voice comes rolling in behind them.
“Hey, guys!” Seokmin says, cheery as always, as he steps into their circle. “Just here to pick up Minghao before our next class and— why are all of you looking at Chan like that?”
“Chan has kimchi jjigae for lunch,” Minghao smirks.
“Oh, sweet! Is it from your mom? Can I have a bite?” Seokmin replies excitedly, backpack already discarded to the side as he crouches down next to Chan. “I already ate but you know auntie’s recipe is one of my favorites! Her choice in pork cuts is always to die fo—“
“Wonwoo-hyung made it,” Chan blurts, if only to shut Seokmin up, especially after he realizes that everyone else was just waiting for him to say it.
Seokmin’s smile falters. “What?”
“What the hell?” Chan exclaims. “Why are all of you reacting that way every time I try to explain how I got this dang jjigae!”
“Wait, wait, wait," Seokmin says, crawling into Chan's space. It's a wonder he doesn't knock anyone else's lunch over with how fast he moves onto the ground. "Like, hyung made it for you? Himself?”
“For the last time, yes!”
Seokmin is fully kneeling next to Chan now, right into his space. His eyes are wide and gleaming, his smile replaced on his face, as he grabs Chan by the shoulders and makes them face each other. “Oh my god, this is huge ,” Seokmin practically squeals. His grip on Chan is practically bruising, but Chan is too shocked by whatever is supposed to be happening to say anything. “Finally! Okay, so what did he say? How did he do it? Tell me everything!”
Next to them, Minghao snorts again and Soonyoung giggles. A cat passes by and Jun meows loudly at it, presumably informing the cat of the situation.
Chan can see Soonyoung from the corner of his eye, as he reaches his own chopsticks over to Chan’s lunchbox to steal a big piece of kimchi from the jjigae. “He didn’t say it, Seokminnie,” Soonyoung says in between crunchy chewing.
Seokmin’s grip on Chan’s arms tightens and, for the second time in literally 2 minutes, the smile on his face loosens. “What?” He asks back at Soonyoung. “But… but the jjigae?”
Jun giggles, puts a quarter slice of a tomato in his mouth. “Yeah. You’d really think, huh?”
“Think what?” Chan asks, looking between his hyungs. “Hello? Think what! What didn’t Wonwoo-hyung say!”
“That’s— oh. I’m sorry,” Seokmin says and lets go of Chan completely before properly sitting down next to Minghao. Chan is so bothered by how upset and disappointed Seokmin suddenly looks. Over… over a jjigae?
Seokmin steals a corn chip from the tiny bag in Minghao’s hands and pops it into his mouth, crunching away with a big frown on his face. “That’s so typical of him,” Seokmin sighs and Soonyoung lifts his hands in exasperation.
“Exactly what I said!” Soonyoung says, bits of rice falling out of his mouth and around their picnic blanket. He really needs to stop talking with a mouthful, and Minghao comments as much from his spot on the side.
Chan huffs, arms crossing against his chest. He feels like a baby throwing a tantrum, and maybe that’s what he is because this always happens when the older guys in the group know something he doesn’t. “What’s the point of having all of you as hyungs if you won’t pay attention to me!” he exclaims.
Soonyoung laughs, facing Chan again. He’s the first to cave as always when it comes to Chan. “If you remember, dear Jungchannie, our Wonwoo-yah can’t cook,” he starts. “Well, he can’t do a lot of things, really. It’s easier to name things he can do than not.”
Chan raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? So, what, are you saying he lied and really did buy me take out? And even then I don’t care? It was still nice of him. Though I guess that is a really weird thing lie about—“
“I’m not done,” Soonyoung interrupts. He’s holding his chopsticks up vertically, back straight and face serious, like he’s some kind of teacher giving an important lecture– which, like, he kind of is, now, but he’s technically on lunch break so Chan doesn’t see the need for him to get so serious.
Chan would normally laugh at Soonyoung’s charades, but it, more than anything, is what makes Chan know that this talk is leading to something important. “What I was trying to say was— Wonwoo-yah can’t cook anything… except jjigae,” Soonyoung continues. “It’s one of the things we can easily name that he can do. And, as you’ve probably noticed, he can do it, like, devastatingly well.”
“Our appa taught us how,” Seokmin chirps in, suddenly half tangled around Minghao. His smile is fond, like he's remembering the moment. Even in his own annoyance, Chan can’t help feeling warm every time Seokmin talks about his and Wonwoo’s childhood; this side comment is no different. Chan imagines a tiny Wonwoo and an even tinier Seokmin peeking over a big stove with their dad between them, showing them which ingredient goes next into the stew.
Soonyoung nods along with Seokmin’s words. “Right. So the memory of that is important to him. Because it’s the only thing he can cook, and it's a nice memory with Seokminnie and their dad. Lots of layers here, Jungchan-ah, pay attention!” He exclaims, emphasizing his point with a whirl of his chopsticks. “But you know how he is. Too lazy to do anything for himself, even if it’s something as enjoyable as kimchi jjigae, so he doesn’t make it often. When he and Mingyu used to dorm together, it was always Mingyu preparing it for them! Yeesh.”
Chan raises an eyebrow again, not entirely following where this is going. “I still don’t understand what that has to do with me getting some food from him,” He says. “Like, okay, yeah, he doesn’t make it a lot. But he made it yesterday? Was it a special occasion then? Like, their dad’s birthday?”
Seokmin sits up immediately, horror on his face. Before he can say anything, Minghao pats his shoulder, saying uncle’s birthday was four months ago, remember? We got him that sweater . Seokmin relaxes, completely relieved, and leans back down into Minghao’s side. Minghao sighs, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend, but his face is fond.
When Minghao turns to Chan though, his expression is serious again.
“Chan. If you’ll notice, no one else got any jjigae. But you said he made a lot of it, right?” Minghao says. “Even his own brother didn’t get any. He didn’t even know about it until just now. And they live together.”
Seokmin pipes out a tiny so true! from his seat, quietly pouting. He is one hundred percent back to being all up in Minghao’s space at this point, face tucked into Minghao’s neck like a feather boa. Minghao is unfazed by what is definitely a norm for them. Chan would think it cute if he wasn’t too busy being confused. He just wants to stop talking about this jjigae already.
“Your apartment is, like, a ten minute drive away from Seokmin and Wonwoo’s,” Minghao continues. “Wonwoo hates moving. He can barely drive to campus without complaining. But he made jjigae, drove himself to your place, and then left. All so he could give you some food.”
The gears in Chan’s mind start to churn, and churn fast. He does not like where this is going.
“In general Wonwoo is just… not good with his words, you know?” Soonyoung adds. “Which is why it’s the universe’s biggest joke that he’s this school’s youngest, most accomplished poetry graduate-turned-instructor or whatever.”
“Which is also why jjigae– and sometimes food in general, I guess– is, like, his secret love language,” Minghao goes on. “But it’s not the same food-love-language as Jun’s. Wonwoo doesn’t remember every single person’s food allergy or favorite dessert from their childhood, because he’s not that much of a lunatic–”
“Hey!” Jun says, right as a cat meows loudly next to him.
“–But he’s still genuinely caring enough to express some emotions through the food he does remember, even if it’s his own favorite.”
“It’s like he’s sharing part of himself, you know?” Seokmin pipes up this time. He adjusts himself in Minghao’s hold, shifting to look Chan in the face again. His face is so warm and blindingly caring all at once, the most Seokmin of Seokmin expressions on his face, but Chan can’t react to it, not just yet.
He feels so numb and confused by what everyone has been explaining to him. He knows he brought this on himself, begging for answers, but now… he wonders if he should've asked at all.
“Oh,” is all Chan can find himself to say.
Jun snickers at that, the sound going through his nose. Chan watches him steal another piece of fried chicken from Soonyoung’s tupperware before stuffing the whole thing in his mouth. “The last time he made someone jjigae,” Jun says matter-of-factly through his mouth full of chicken, “was before he and Changkyun got together.”
Chan sits there, saying nothing. No one looks expectantly back, no one says anything more.
Since opening up his lunchbox, Chan finds that the silence that follows gives him time to finally take a bite of his food. It’s even better now, like all jjigaes are, a day after it's been made. The spice warms his mouth and then his chest as he swallows. He wants to eat more, but everything his hyungs have been saying so far have suddenly dampened his appetite.
Chan puts down his tupperware and chopsticks. “Are you saying…” he tries. “This was some kind of… confession?”
Soonyoung shrugs noncommittally, crunching on his chicken. He says nothing, but his eyes are shining with a knowing look.
Chan swallows. His palms suddenly feel sweaty. “Does… Does Wonwoo-hyung like me? Like, like-like me?”
Seokmin giggles from behind Minghao’s shoulder, only to be swatted at by Minghao.
“You should talk to him,” Minghao says, the perfect non-answer. “Thank him for the jjigae.”
Jun pushes himself into Chan’s line of vision, eyebrows waggling with implication. Chan feels his cheeks heat up, eyes growing wide, and it must show on his face because Jun cracks into an evil cackle. Minghao swats at Jun too.
“I’m serious,” Minghao says. “It’d be better if you got answers from him. Yeah?”
Chan nods. He looks down at his tupperware of jjigae, holding it gently in his hands. He’s not entirely sure yet what he has to do next, but maybe if he stares at the soup long enough it’ll tell him the answer.
Next to him, Soonyoung clears his throat. “So, uh. Are you gonna finish that?”