Chapter 84: A Misguided Feast

Yoonwoo glared at Seowoo, seething. The idea of meekly surrendering to Kevin and finding another alpha gnawed at him, growing more unfair with every thought.

“And he clearly… he kissed Sugyeom. Who does that without any feelings?”

“Oh, but that first love is being so proactive, you said. You haven’t even started dating, so why get involved in such a complicated relationship…?”

Seowoo, overwhelmed by Yoonwoo’s intensity, mumbled back, looking uncharacteristically flustered. Yoonwoo’s frustration boiled over at the unhelpful response.

“Why should I give up before even trying? I don’t want to lose him to someone else… I said I didn’t want to! Sugyeom…”

“He… he did? You should have said something! I thought Sugyeom didn’t have any particular feelings either.”

“That’s not true.”

Yoonwoo’s expression grew increasingly tearful. His stomach churned at the memory of Kevin’s thick arm playfully slapping Yeon-chae’s back, while Kevin laughed boisterously. Yeon-chae, though stumbling from the shove, laughed along with him. It was a bright, cheerful laugh that Yoonwoo hadn’t heard from him in ages.

“I like him. I really like him, you know? You don’t understand, hyung. So don’t tell me to give up… on Sugyeom.”

His throat kept constricting, and his eyes burned, so he swallowed hard to suppress the rising emotion. Seowoo’s hesitant voice reached his ears.

“Oh, r-right. Tell Sugyeom to hang in there. Fighting…”

Last night, after much deliberation, Yoonwoo concluded that he couldn’t let the “cattle thief” steal Yeon-chae away like this. He would have to retract his promise to let Yeon-chae go if he found someone he truly liked.

Yoonwoo decided he would do his absolute best to win Yeon-chae over. He desperately wanted to make a good impression.

Thus, he rose early today, and as soon as Yeon-chae left for school, Yoonwoo rushed to the supermarket. Returning with his arms laden with groceries, he already felt a sense of purpose. He planned to prepare several delicious dishes and set a wonderful dinner table for Yeon-chae’s return. While he wasn’t particularly confident in his cooking skills, the internet nowadays offered a deluge of decent recipes with just a click. He felt sure he could manage.

Standing before the induction range in the kitchen, Yoonwoo was brimming with confidence.

Eight hours passed.

“Hyung, what is this smell? What are you doing right now?”

“Oh, Yeon-chae. You’re home?”

Yeon-chae, returning from class, wrinkled his nose the moment he stepped through the front door. His long legs strode purposefully, bringing him directly into the kitchen. Yoonwoo, wearing an apron and holding a ladle, could only roll his eyes, unable to form a proper reply. He had cleaned, or so he thought, but the soy sauce smell must still be potent. Yoonwoo, having spent the entire day amidst the aroma of soy sauce, had become completely anosmic to it.

Yeon-chae asked, his face etched with surprise.

“Did you spill soy sauce? Why? Did a bottle break? Are you hurt?”

“Not exactly… Ah, well, I did spill some. But I’m not hurt. And I cleaned up the bottle.”

Spilling soy sauce was true, but it wasn’t the only thing that had happened. Yoonwoo glanced down at his fingers, shriveled from being thoroughly soaked in soy sauce, and mumbled awkwardly.

“I was doing some cooking…”

“Cooking?”

Only then did Yeon-chae survey his surroundings. Despite the overwhelming soy sauce aroma, the kitchen was also filled with the pungent smells of pork, raw crab, and sour aged kimchi, all mixed with various ingredients and cooking utensils, creating utter chaos. Yeon-chae was speechless. As the heavy silence stretched, Yoonwoo grew increasingly mortified.

“Why are you suddenly cooking…?”

Finally, Yeon-chae broke the silence. His low voice trembled faintly. At that moment, Yoonwoo’s stomach rumbled loudly. Yeon-chae’s already wide eyes widened further.

“You haven’t eaten lunch yet, have you?”

“Huh? No, I picked at a few things.”

Yeon-chae had left for school at 9 AM. It was almost 5 PM, and Yoonwoo’s lunch-deprived stomach rumbled like thunder. He hadn’t intentionally skipped meals, but there simply hadn’t been an opportunity. It had truly been an eventful day.

Yeon-chae was silent for a moment, then raised his head, his face bewildered. His light brown eyes seemed unfocused.

“What exactly were you trying to make? What did you want to eat? I’ll make it for you. Why didn’t you just call me…?”

The tone, implying utter certainty of failure, stung Yoonwoo slightly. He had struggled, but he *had* created something. Pouting, Yoonwoo turned and opened the refrigerator door. He set a large glass container on the island counter, and a dark brown liquid sloshed within it.

Yeon-chae looked utterly disbelieving.

“What… is this?”

Yoonwoo answered proudly.

“Soy-marinated crab.”

“…”

Yeon-chae stared down at the result of Yoonwoo’s day-long struggle, remaining silent. Yoonwoo, who had been smiling proudly, grew increasingly uneasy as the silence prolonged. ‘Does he not like it?’ Yoonwoo bit his lower lip, a nervous expression on his face.

“You’re saying this is soy-marinated crab?”

“Yeah. There are crabs in it, see?”

He pointed a finger at the black liquid where several flower crabs floated, belly-up. Yeon-chae swallowed audibly.

Yeon-chae stammered, “Hyung… Did you really, truly make this yourself?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t even eat because of this. I’m starving.”

More than hunger, Yoonwoo was overwhelmed with fatigue, feeling as though he might collapse any moment. Yet, just seeing Yeon-chae’s curious, knowing eyes seemed to alleviate his exhaustion. ‘This must be why people bother with such difficult cooking,’ he thought. Yoonwoo chattered with a sense of accomplishment.

“You said you wanted to eat it.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. You kept saying you’d make soy-marinated crab someday, didn’t you?”

“…That was because you said you wanted to eat it.”

“Me?”

“You!”

“Hmm?”

“Ah, seriously.”

“Oh, was that me?”

“Ha…”

Yeon-chae pressed a hand to his forehead. Yoonwoo rolled his eyes, trying to recall.

Come to think of it, he had. It must have been about half a year ago. He remembered pestering Yeon-chae to make soy-marinated crab. He hadn’t genuinely wanted him to make it; rather, he had been persistently teasing Yeon-chae. At the time, Yoonwoo hadn’t even known soy-marinated crab was something one could make at home.

Only then did the realization hit him with a resounding *thwack*.

“Ahhh, that’s right. I did say that back then…”

“So you spent all day making soy-marinated crab? Breaking a soy sauce bottle and boiling soy sauce all day, filling the entire house with its smell?”

“No, I thought you liked it. I thought it would be nice to eat it together for dinner…”

“Honestly.”

The tips of Yeon-chae’s eyebrows drooped and twitched. The corners of his mouth curved into a pleasant smile, and then a burst of laughter erupted from him.

“Ah, seriously. How can you not remember anything properly?”

“Uh-huh, I guess so.”

So Yeon-chae hadn’t actually liked it. Yoonwoo could only roll his eyes, speechless. He had wanted to impress Yeon-chae, but it seemed he had botched the very first step. Yeon-chae bent forward, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

It was a relief that Yeon-chae was laughing, but it didn’t seem to be laughter born of being moved. It seemed more like mockery. Yoonwoo narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Yeon-chae’s face. There were even tears at the corners of his long eyes. ‘Was it really that funny?’ Yoonwoo inwardly sulked, frowning.

“And, Hyung.”

Yeon-chae called Yoonwoo, his voice still tinged with laughter. Yoonwoo replied sullenly.

“Yeah, what?”

“We can’t eat the soy-marinated crab today.”

“Huh? Why!”

“It needs to ferment for at least a week. If we eat it now, it’ll be completely fishy.”

“Oh…?”

“What are we eating for dinner now? I’m really hungry.”

“Uh-oh…”

Yoonwoo had envisioned a grand plan: setting a magnificent dinner table for Yeon-chae’s return, impressing him with homemade soy-marinated crab, and completely winning him over. That ambitious vision shattered into pieces. Yoonwoo blinked blankly, his face bewildered, while Yeon-chae burst into uproarious laughter, slapping the table. Yoonwoo had never seen Yeon-chae laugh with such delight. It seemed Yeon-chae was incredibly happy that Yoonwoo’s ambitious plan had failed.

Fortunately, Yoonwoo hadn’t only prepared the soy-marinated crab. While it was his secret weapon, he had other dishes already made. His initial goal of setting a lavish, nine-dish banquet had already been derailed, leaving him a little dejected, but Yoonwoo still pulled out the other dishes, one by one. Yeon-chae peered over his shoulder from behind, a worried look in his eyes.

“What’s that…? Did you make something else?”

“Yeah. This is pork belly gimbap.”

“Really?”

Yeon-chae stared intently at the pork belly gimbap placed before him. He then swallowed hard and cautiously opened his mouth.

“…This is it?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Ah…”

Yeon-chae lifted a piece of gimbap with his chopsticks. The seaweed, heavily soaked in sesame oil, tore apart, and the pork belly, aged kimchi, perilla leaves, burdock, carrots, and spinach all tumbled out. Yoonwoo let out a groan of dismay.

“Ah, it was so pretty! Did I use too much sesame oil?”

“Pretty…”

Yeon-chae mumbled something, but Yoonwoo, busy using a spoon to salvage the gimbap remnants on Yeon-chae’s plate, didn’t quite hear him.

“It’s okay. It all ends up the same in your stomach anyway. It’s delicious when you eat it all together.”

“Is that so…?”

“Yeah. I was a part-timer at a meat restaurant, so I grill pork belly perfectly. And the aged kimchi is perfectly fermented. It’s a combination that can’t possibly taste bad.”

“But Hyung, why is the pork belly this color…? Why does the color seem a little different?”

“Oh, this.”

Yoonwoo picked up the piece of pork belly he had grilled with the most care. It was seasoned using an idea he had repeatedly suggested to his boss during his part-time job at the meat restaurant, but which had never been adopted.

“I marinated it in my secret sauce before grilling it. It’s going to be absolutely delicious.”

“…”

“It’s all ready. Yeon-chae. Say ‘Ah’.”

All the ingredients that had made up the gimbap were now on Yoonwoo’s spoon. Yoonwoo smiled brightly as he brought the spoon to Yeon-chae’s lips.