After Kai leaves, Khánh’s mind is free to seize upon the thing they’ve been trying so hard to not think about all evening.

The sight of Kai, lower half sticking out from under the sink and angled up so Khánh had a perfect view of the lovely curves of his body…

The scene plays on loop in Khánh’s mind, over and over and over again. It’s enough to drive a person mad. What is wrong with them? They’ve never thought of anyone like this before, and it’s utter madness. What kinds of impulsive thoughts are these? Who invited them! Khánh didn’t!

Or maybe, a small, often ignored part of Khánh’s brain says, it’s because you like him.

Khánh slaps their cheeks, trying in vain to snap out of whatever stupor had come over them. Unfortunately, once the thought is in their head, it refuses to budge, forcing Khánh to consider if there is any kernel of truth in it. They wander back into the kitchen in a daze, brain whirling.

Could it be possible? Khánh hasn’t ever had a crush on anyone, and certainly not in the past three years after moving all the way out to this city and having trouble making friends. Khánh begins to catalogue their thoughts about Kai, scrutinizing the way they think about him.

Noticing Kai’s features… unable to stop thinking about the attractive sweep of his body… heart beating faster when Kai looks at them… the feeling of utter contentment when talking to Kai… missing Kai the second he leaves…

Oh.

I have a crush on someone. I have a crush on Kai.

A second after this realization, Khánh slaps both of their cheeks again. There’s no way they can act on this. There’s probably some kind of innate power imbalance in effect, and it wouldn’t be proper, and Kai probably doesn’t even like them back, and, and…

Khánh sinks to the floor of the kitchen, clutching their head in their hands. I’m in trouble, they think. It feels like a barrier in their brain has been shattered. All sorts of thoughts are bombarding them from every direction, and all of those thoughts are firmly centered on Kai.

There’s nothing for it. They can’t go on like this. Khánh is just going to seal these inconvenient feelings and impure thoughts right back up wherever they were staying before. Then, they are going to enjoy Kai’s company when he comes over in a very normal, friends sort of way, and—

A memory of Kai speaking springs unbidden to Khánh’s mind. It’s just...there’s not much for me to do anymore.

They’d told him he could come by whenever, hadn’t they? Surely… surely Kai wouldn’t stop coming by? Khánh can barely hold themself together at the thought of not talking to Kai everyday, but what if he doesn’t come back?

The thought consumes them all night and into the next day, leading up to where Khánh currently finds themself.

“Come on, Khánh,” they mutter. “It’ll be easy and quick. Just… do it.” Their fingers tighten on the wrench as they continue staring at the stove. Their lovely, wonderful, gas cooktop that makes meals that bring happiness to Kai. Kai, who won’t come by if there’s nothing to fix.

“I can’t do this,” they moan, even as they raise their arm higher. In their mind, the gas burners look like they’re crying tiny teardrops, begging them not to go through with it. Khánh closes their eyes, trying to force willpower and bring the wrench arcing down to shatter their poor, innocent stovetop—

“What are you doing?” Kai asks, coming in through the front door.

“Nothing!” Khánh yelps, whirling around, and the wrench goes flying backwards.

CRASH!

The two of them stare at the broken window in silence.

“So,” Khánh says. “Do you know how to fix a window?”

It turns out that Kai doesn’t know how to fix a window, but he is an ace at following Youtube tutorials. Khánh sheepishly gives him money and resolutely refuses to answer any questions about why they were holding a wrench to the stovetop. That secret can go in the vault with the other secret, the big secret. They’re borne of the same emotion anyway.

While Kai heads to a home improvement store to get materials, Khánh decides to cook up a meal hearty enough to transform their heartsickness into deliciousness. They send off a text to Kai asking him to pick up a couple baguettes from a specific grocery store, then tie on their apron.

The memory of Kai wearing their apron and carrying a tray of chicken soup blooms into their mind. Khánh thinks deeply of their feelings on that vision while marinating chicken thighs with salt, sugar, fish sauce, chicken powder, frozen chopped lemongrass, onions, and curry powder. The bowl of chicken goes in the fridge.

Their obsession with Kai’s smile (and perhaps the gentle curve of his lower half emerging from beneath the bathroom sink) powers them through chopping carrots, taro, and Asian sweet potatoes into large chunks. After Khánh finishes, they pop the vegetables into the air fryer. Frying them will help the vegetables not break down when simmering in the sauce later. Khánh only hopes they can similarly keep themself together in front of Kai from now on.

The quickening of Khánh’s heartbeat when Kai looks at them is focused into making the curry base. The secret to all cooking is love of course, but the secret to a good curry is sautéeing the spices to develop their flavor. Over low heat, Khánh tips a healthy dose of curry powder into the pot, then adds ginger, garlic, onion, more lemongrass, shallots, a generous pinch of paprika, and several bay leaves. Once they are satisfied with the color, they add the bowl of chicken and a couple stalks of fresh lemongrass.

Their utter contentment when spending time with Kai is distilled into the coconut water and homemade chicken broth Khánh pours into the pot. They stare into the depths, stirring occasionally to move the chicken around as they wait for the pot to boil. Their reflection stares back, and Khánh wonders if it’s just them, or if Kai can also see the lovesick fool in their eyes.

The bone-deep sense of wanting Kai to stay, the feeling of never wanting him to leave… that is what Khánh concentrates on as they add the fried carrots, potatoes, and taro to the pot. They mix the vegetables evenly into the curry. There’s no rushing this last part—everything must be tender, just as tender as their feelings for Kai. Khánh tastes the curry to ensure that the flavor infusing all of the parts is ideal. A little sugar, a bit more salt… Kai deserves only the best. When they are satisfied with the taste of the curry and the texture of the vegetables, they pour in two cans of coconut milk. The color blooms beautifully, lightening the dark broth into a creamy golden yellow-orange just as Kai steps through the door.

“I’m home—er, I mean, I’m back!” he calls.

Khánh turns to him ready with a smile. Their heart is at ease now, their overwhelming emotions infused into this meal that they have cooked for Kai. With this, Khánh is confident they can set aside those pesky feelings and treat Kai like a friend, like he deserves.

“Welcome home,” they reply.

*

Bonus scene

Coworker: KAI you must BE HAPPY FOR ME

Kai: i’m happy for u

Coworker: I wasn’t finished yet, you don’t even know what I was telling you to be happy about. Also why do I feel like you’re being sarcastic...

Kai: … anyway, what happened?

Coworker: MY WIFE IS FINALLY OVER HER MORNING SICKNESS! WE CAN EAT GREASY FOOD AGAIN!

Kai: Oh, so you don’t want to hear about the Vietnamese curry I had for dinner?

Coworker: I shall sit here obediently and silently as the Great Kai regales me with his tales

Kai: It was… the warmest meal I’ve ever had.

Coworker: ??? Do you normally eat cold food???