“Lee Seo-eul, let’s make this next time.”“What are you talking about?”Seo-eul, who had just passed over the emptied palbochae plate to the opposite side of the table, sat down again. He rolled his eyes, trying to guess what Sa-heon was referring to, but before he could ask, Sa-heon picked up a piece of spicy fried shrimp and brought it right up to Seo-eul’s lips with his chopsticks. The motion was so natural that Seo-eul simply accepted the bite without a second thought.“…Oh, it’s good. Did they add plum syrup?”The tangy special sauce spread through his mouth. He chewed slowly, trying to figure out what was in it. When Sa-heon noticed that Seo-eul had just finished swallowing, he picked up a piece of fried pork beside it.“Don’t know. This one tastes similar.”Then he fed him again.Each piece was perfectly bite-sized, and Seo-eul accepted them all without much reaction. He looked thoughtless, but it was habit. This kind of thing had long since become part of daily life. Without even realizing it, he’d been tamed by his housemate—the same person who always fed him everything he liked, saying, Make this, make that. He only frowned faintly, more out of reflex than protest.“But this one’s spicy…?”He hadn’t noticed at first, but the heat crept up as he kept chewing.Seo-eul wasn’t bad with spicy food, but he was sensitive to things like mala or capsaicin. When he stuck his tongue out slightly to cool it, Sa-heon’s low chuckle came, like he’d been expecting exactly that.He didn’t. Did he seriously feed that to me on purpose?Seo-eul shot him a suspicious glare and reached out toward the table. He was aiming for the teacup with his pre-meal oolong tea, but what ended up in his hand was a spoon.“If it’s too spicy, eat the fried rice.”“……”“It’s still hot.”It wasn’t. It had already cooled to the perfect temperature. Just picking up the cup would’ve proven that, but Seo-eul simply nodded and obeyed, scooping up a spoonful of crab fried rice as Sa-heon suggested.The fluffy rice grains and big chunks of crab eased the lingering burn on his tongue. The salty-sweet flavor wasn’t bad, so he took another bite. He ate silently, spoon moving slower with each mouthful, while Sa-heon, having already demolished half of the palbochae, suddenly grabbed a large ceramic sauce pot.“Eat it with this.”Thick black bean sauce filled the empty edge of Seo-eul’s plate.Just as he was about to put the spoon down—since, honestly, he’d eaten enough already—Sa-heon’s gesture left him no choice. Not wanting to waste the effort, Seo-eul quietly resumed eating. The sweet, fried chunjang-coated pork and vegetables paired surprisingly well with the fried rice.Cooking really did come down to firepower and oil, huh.That meaningless thought passed through his head as his spoon slowed. Then suddenly—he realized the room had gone too quiet.Wait. Did I just… let him feed me?“Uh…”He blinked in shock, but it was already too late.For them, this was routine. But how it looked on camera? That was another story.They were so used to feeding each other while cooking together that he’d completely /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ let his guard down. Any attempt to explain would only make it weirder, so he shut his mouth.So this is what it means when they say there are no retakes.Suppressing a sigh, Seo-eul straightened his awkward expression. Appetite gone.“……”Eventually, he gave up on salvaging it—and on eating at all.As he set his spoon down, his eyes automatically scanned the table. He noticed the main writer’s empty teacup right across from him. Without thinking, he searched for the teapot. It was a reflex he couldn’t quite break—checking on others, making sure things were in order.He meant to quietly pour a refill before anyone noticed, but Sa-heon moved faster. In a blink, he grabbed the handle and filled every single cup on the table.“Oh.”“……?”“Th-thank you…”He moved so efficiently that they could’ve mistaken him for a waiter.The startled staff mumbled their thanks, and Sa-heon, face completely blank, set down the teapot.“You’re welcome. It’s hot.”“Wow…”It’s… not hot at all, though?The staff glanced down at their steamless cups with complicated expressions. It was polite, but somehow terrifying.There were a thousand things they could have said, but after witnessing Sa-heon’s earlier antics, everyone decided silence was safer. None of them wanted to embarrass Seo-eul any further, either.They’d heard rumors that Seo-eul hardly ate during shoots. He was famous for constantly buying snacks for the crew while barely touching any himself—maybe a few sips of coffee at most. Some said it was a professional routine, others that he just wasn’t interested in food.Now, watching in person, they knew.He really just didn’t care about eating.And Seo Sa-heon? He was the type who had to make others eat.“Come to think of it, you two live together, right?”“Ah, yes.”Unable to hold back her curiosity, writer Su-gyeong jumped in. She’d heard rumors of them being childhood friends, but she hadn’t known they were actually living together—ten whole years under the same roof. The fact that she’d only just found out such news was almost infuriating.Still, no matter.It would all go public soon enough.Remembering Sa-heon’s individual interview, where he’d dropped that bombshell with perfect nonchalance, she fought to keep her excitement from showing. Seo-eul, unaware of her inner glee, smiled politely back.“So you cook at home, then? Seo-eul, are you the one who usually cooks? You can even handle Chinese dishes?”“I usually do, yeah. But Sa-heon helps a lot. I wouldn’t say I’m great at it—it’s more like, following internet recipes? It’s just the two of us eating anyway, so it’s fine.”“Still, that’s impressive! Two guys living together usually end up ordering takeout forever!”“Haha. We did that at first too, but you get tired of delivery eventually. And some dishes just aren’t available for takeout. When we’re busy, though, we have no choice but to order again.”Actors lived on extremes—lazy when free, frantic when working. Overnight shoots, out-of-town filming, foreign locations—it wasn’t rare to go weeks without returning home. Even when he did make it back, Seo-eul was often too drained to cook. Normally, Sa-heon would whine about wanting different foods, but during those times, he just made sure Seo-eul got some sleep.Then, once filming wrapped, he’d revert to the same carefree idiot as always—because he knew Seo-eul felt guilty about it, and he didn’t want him to. That was why Seo-eul could never refuse him, even when Sa-heon got pushy. Cooking together was just one small part of that pattern.“Well, it helps that neither of us are picky eaters.”“Oh… Sa-heon isn’t…?”That can’t be right.Su-gyeong stared, puzzled. Everyone in broadcasting knew Seo Sa-heon had ridiculously picky tastes. Some even said he was borderline obsessive—hated sharing utensils, avoided physical contact. Given his celebrity reputation, wild rumors were common, but those who’d worked with him swore it was true.He’d even once identified seven different brands of bottled water on a variety show, blindfolded.And yet… not picky?Her doubtful gaze slid toward him, but Sa-heon looked utterly disinterested in the conversation. Meanwhile, Seo-eul sighed softly, seeing the palbochae now completely gone.“He doesn’t even notice when things are burnt…”“……”“I just ate it to be nice.”“Don’t lie. You only realized after I told you.”The memory was vivid—the time Sa-heon had eaten a half-charred rolled omelet without batting an eye. Seo-eul’s retort made him shrug.“I thought it was part of the concept.”“How could that possibly be—?”“Anyway, have one more bite.”Half the crab fried rice was already gone. Seo-eul hesitated. So much for mercy, huh… Reluctantly, he took another bite. As soon as he did, Sa-heon pulled the plate toward himself.The world divides neatly into two kinds of people—those who can casually eat food someone else has already touched, and those who absolutely can’t.The staff tried desperately not to react, pretending not to care—but their faces went pale when they saw it.Without a hint of hesitation, Sa-heon finished off the rest of Seo-eul’s fried rice in a few bites.Who said this guy has a germ phobia?!Every staff member screamed internally, exchanging knowing looks that said the same thing: Never trust rumors.Then, perhaps to test the limits, Su-gyeong put on her friendliest smile and turned to Sa-heon.“Would you like some more?”She gestured toward the extra fried rice they’d ordered to share—practically untouched, since everyone had used separate spoons to scoop their own portions.Sa-heon’s expression shifted. A polite smile painted onto a faintly green face. It was subtle, but undeniable when seen up close.“No, thank you.”Why would I eat something other people touched?His whole body said it.And from that point on, he ate all of Seo-eul’s dessert portions as well.Seo-eul, who couldn’t finish a whole serving by himself, had only taken a single bite each of the tangerine tart and the chestnut pie. When he smiled and said, You remember this, right?, Sa-heon nodded, taking the pie with a familiar bite mark and eating it without hesitation.“Yeah. You only ate two bites last time too.”“……”“……”At that point, even the most oblivious observer could see it.Filming hadn’t even properly begun, yet the staff already saw the show’s glorious future with stunning clarity.And by the time Seo-eul left to wash the cream off his hands, that sense of certainty solidified.“Oh. I got some on me too.”Sa-heon picked up a napkin smeared with fruit filling and, in the flattest tone possible, recited, “Guess I’d better wash up,” before following Seo-eul out.Watching his back, PD Jeon Jae-yeon let out a low laugh.“Yeah. You’re the lunatic of this season, huh…”He was clearly hopeless—and she could already feel her heart racing.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.