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“Why aren’t you asleep yet?”
Even before Ten could hear the voice of the man's, he has already know who's coming because that distinc pheromone that very familiar to him. Chef Taeyong, the young headmaster of the academy, standing in front of his desk—handsome in his formal attire, a pressed black suit that framed his broad chest perfectly.
"Ah, sorry, Chef.” Ten stood a little too quickly. It was already 10 p.m., and most of his friends who joined this short-course program had gone to bed early, exhausted after a long day of tasting dishes and stressful kitchen practice. “I’m not sleepy yet. Maybe too excited for tomorrow,” Ten added, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to mask his Omega pheromone even more so chef Taeyong wouldn't think he try to seduce him whatsoever.
Tomorrow their group would visit L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon Étoile, the restaurant of the late Robuchon—one of Ten’s culinary idols. He couldn’t sleep from the excitement alone. Paris had always been his dream city since he entered cooking school.
“Good. I want to take a walk outside for a bit. Do you want to tag along?” Taeyong suddenly asked. Ten raised one eyebrow in confusion. Did Lee Taeyong just speak informally? And invite him to walk together? The Alpha casually ask him, the Omega, to come with him? Or was that just small talk?
“I…” Ten’s voice hung mid-air when he saw Taeyong’s hand extended toward him.
“As a future chef, you have to be able and used to making decisions quickly, efficiently, and accurately,” Taeyong said without a hint of expression. Ten finally nodded, taking Taeyong’s hand as he led him out of the hotel lounge. Anyway, any minor skinship between Alpha-Omega like holding hand is not a biggie in this year. Times have changed, and people with second genders no longer behave like animals. Medicine, treatments, and the environment have made interactions between the genders more neutral. The only lingering traces of the second gender are pheromones, and how people can still seduce others with them, though the effects are not as powerful as before.
“Walking is fine, right? I just want to visit a few old friends,” Taeyong said as they stepped out of the hotel entrance. Ten nodded, though his face looked a little worried.
Maybe tagging along with Chef Taeyong tonight could give him new experiences and insights. The opportunity knocks but once, right? Beside, Chef Taeyong never been discriminate to his students. He never treat them differently for the sake of their second gender.
Noticing Ten's expression, Taeyong patted the young Omega’s shoulder lightly. “Don’t worry, this isn’t a formal reunion or anything. You up for foods?”
Ten nodded. He really was hungry since he hadn’t had a proper dinner. Although so many kinds of food went into his mouth today, they were all just one or two bites for tasting, not a full meal.
“Ah! my wallet is in the hotel, Chef—” Ten slapped his forehead, realizing he forgot.
“Cashless?” Taeyong asked, stopping.
Ten grinned sheepishly. “My Visa is still blocked, Chef. My cashless balance is only Korean e-money.”
“No problem. I’m treating you tonight.”
Ten didn’t argue. He smiled lightly and nodded, accidentally releasing little bit if his scent due to his excitement.
"It's suddenly smell like someone passed by holding a bouquet of lavender," said Taeyong while rubbing his nose inconspicuously.
Ten take a step back, feeling bad and quickly adjusting himself.
“You’re not a waiter. Please walk beside me,” Taeyong said suddenly, pulling Ten’s arm so they walked side by side as if to make Ten sure that his pheromone is not something bothering. Ten smiled faintly with the gesture.
The sidewalk was wide enough and not too crowded. Ten's cheeks turned slightly red, and his heart beat a bit harder. He had admired Taeyong for a long time, the young Korean chef known as “Korea’s Robuchon” because he once worked directly under the man in Las Vegas. To Ten, simply walking beside Taeyong already felt like an honor.
He just wasn’t sure whether what he felt was admiration... or something else. Maybe because he felt so small and so little to the great Taeyong to even dare to be something special for that man.
Seven minutes of walking later, they stopped at their first destination. Ten blinked in surprise. It was just a small crepe stand. Taeyong looked familiar with the bearded owner, greeting him with a small smile. Taeyong’s voice sounded incredibly sexy when he spoke French, he got a nasal tone that was addicting to hear. Ten’s stomach felt ticklish every time he heard it.
“Merci,” Ten said as he accepted the order Taeyong had paid for.
They sat for a moment on a bench in front of a clothing store, enjoying their first snack while making small talk about school and cooking. Then they continued walking, stopping a few times. Most of the places the visited were small food stalls or ordinary eateries, which felt unfitting for a chef of Taeyong’s caliber.
“The waffles smell so good,” Ten commented spontaneously while they browsed the pastry display of a shop. The cinnamon powder they used for the topping makes Ten remember Taeyong's pheromone that sometimes giving a hint of cinnamon with strong aroma of sandalwood. Ten's cheek flushed with shame at his own thought.
“Their butter waffle shortly is the best in this district, good assessment.” Taeyong said, perhaps not noticing Ten's changing expression. “Une gaufre au beurre s’il vous plaît.”
“À manger sur place ou à emporter?” the server asked kindly.
“Emporter,” Taeyong replied.
Ten’s eyes sparkled adorably when the server handed him the paper box of waffles. He received it with joy. Taeyong then chatted briefly with a middle-aged man who’d just entered with shopping bags. It turns out the man is the shop owner and Taeyong’s old friend. Ten only smiled politely when introduced. He heard Taeyong repeat the same thing: mon étudiant, my student.
They sat again on a bench outside the bakery.
“You love butter waffles?” Taeyong asked, noticing Ten happily eating again. “It’s the second time you order it.”
Ten frowned slightly. Sure, he liked butter waffles. But it was Taeyong who kept buying them because Ten kept commenting on the smell. Still, Ten didn’t want to argue, so he just nodded, smiling widely with butter glossing his lips.
“Why?” Taeyong asked again.
"The reason I like butter waffles, Chef?” Ten repeated, and Taeyong nodded.
Ten chuckled as a childhood memory resurfaced.
“Sorry, Chef. The reason kinda sounds stupid—that’s why I laugh,” Ten said quickly. Taeyong stayed quiet, simply listening.
“Well… a long time ago, when I was first presented as Omega, my parents took me to a fancy French restaurant as a gift. Sure enough, it's because all of my older siblings presented as Alpha and they waited for Omega child for so long. And that time, i'm still so young I can not even read. Then I ordered food based on pictures because the menu was in French and English. For dessert, I chose butter waffles—” Ten laughed softly. “I thought the white thing on top was ice cream. I was so excited until I took a big bite with a spoon and realized it was butter… and I cried because it was so greasy in my mouth. Both my parents felt so bad they start to buy me ice cream almost everyday for redeem that day.”
Taeyong chuckled, and Ten forgot how to breathe.
Taeyong never laughed. Maybe Ten simply wasn’t close enough to see it, but Ten believed he rarely did. His face was always flat, especially when teaching or tasting food. Whether it was incredibly good or terribly bad, his expression never changed. Again, he treats all kind of his students, alpha, beta, omega, the same way. In the kitchen, he was strict. No sound allowed except chopping knives, sizzling pans, and frying noise. He rarely joked, and even when he did, it wasn’t funny because he said it with no expression.
One thing Ten always remember: Taeyong always said there was no such thing as perfection in culinary arts. There was always room for a chef to improvise.
But seeing Taeyong laugh... Ten was sure perfection existed. One thing he's sure now, that the feeling he has is not coming from admiration. It's deeper that that. It's more raw and primal. He wants Taeyong to mark him... and probably beared trucks of Taeyong pups.
“Usually people end up hating the food in that case. Why do you like it instead?” Taeyong asked, smiling at Ten, who blinked several times to regain composure from imagining little Taeyong in his belly.
“Uhm… I don’t know, Chef. But it was my first time trying food from outside Thailand, so I think I just accepted the challenge, and it’s not that bad, actually.”
“That’s obviously yummy if you want to try again, isn’t it?”
Ten smiled shyly and nodded. Taeyong chuckled again. His scent again puffed up, giving that warm feeling for Ten. This comforted and gave Ten enough courage to ask him something back.
Their teacher-student status sounded like a cliché for a taboo romance, but both were adults—Ten was 25 (he entered culinary academy after completing a Marketing degree, per his parents’ ultimatum), and Taeyong was 36. The age gap didn’t look creepy at all because Taeyong looked incredibly young.
“How about you, Chef? I thought you weren’t into street food like this. You obviously work with the best quality ingredients, elegant equipment, and techniques, and—”
“—and?” Taeyong asked as Ten paused to think.
“And, yeah… everything about fine dining. Like classy foods that must be eaten at specific times and settings…”
Taeyong chuckled again, making Ten blush.
“Ten. Let me tell you something,” Taeyong said, turning slightly toward him. “For being a great cook, you should be a great eater. I never restrict myself on what food to eat or worry too much about ingredient quality. Under the circumstances… I’m relaxed outside the kitchen, not when I’m teaching or giving assessments to restaurants inviting me for their new menu. That’s a different case.”
Ten nodded attentively.
“Street food is one of the great things to explore. Believe it or not, when I’m on vacation, I prefer looking for districts with lots of local street stalls rather than multinational fine dining restaurants. There are many possibilities. You could find trash or gems, of course. But the experience is never trash.”
“Accepting all kinds of tastes is one of the requirements for being a good chef,” Taeyong added with a smile. Ten reflexively pursed his lips downward, remembering when Taeyong once threw his dish into a trash bin because it was “unacceptable to the palate.”
Taeyong laughed, clearly remembering the same moment. “Once again—under the circumstances. If my student’s food isn’t edible, I have to be honest. That’s part of accepting taste too.”
Ten winced but nodded.
Then another question popped into his mind.
“And Chef, you always say perfection doesn’t exist. But do you really mean it? Have you ever felt, ‘This is it!’ while cooking?” Ten asked animatedly, making Taeyong’s lips curve into a wide smile.
“I mean it. Chef Robuchon once said, ‘We always reach for perfection, but when you think you already achieved it, there’s something wrong.’ And for me, that’s good advice. I’ve never felt like I cooked something perfect. The closest thing I’d say is... I’ve felt slightly satisfied before, yes. But have I ever felt something is perfect? No.”
Ten’s mouth fell open as he nodded repeatedly, not only because of Taeyong’s words but also the charisma he radiated while speaking one-on-one like this. It was overwhelming in a good way.
“But…”
Ten immediately raised his head. “But what, Chef?” he asked eagerly.
Taeyong chuckled softly, staring at Ten long enough to make his cheeks burn.
“Is there any reason why you haven't mate yet?" Taeyong asked suddenly.
“Huh?” Ten blinked, then shook his head quickly, “I'm still young, I still have plenty of time, ...I just giving back, " Added Ten hurriedly as he realized he probably sound a little satire.
Taeyong laughed with that, and not long after, Ten joined in laughter.
"I mean, Chef, I still have these many goals... it would be nice if I ended up with someine when I'm alreasy feeling perfect," explained Ten when their laughter faded.
The alpha chef then ran his fingers through his hair, looking handsome with his pretty smile. Then, his expression change. Serious, but the nervous one. It's not the usual Taeyong.
“But you're already perfect.” Taeyong said, his hand hovering as if wanting to touch Ten’s, but stopping midway.
“Pardon?” Ten reacted again in shock.
“I know it's probably too sudden." Taeyong looked Ten in the eyes, his gaze shoftened, full of admiration, and his scent feels like hugged Ten warmly. "I’m not good with words, but you know I’m brutally honest... everyone would agree with that, with all the harsh comments I make in class. And…” Taeyong finally took Ten’s hand resting on his lap. “I like you, Ten.” His gaze remained fixed on Ten’s shocked face.
He then continued. His sentences much longer than his usual classroom speech. “I’m actually a little embarrassed to say this, but… I already liked you since the first time I met you... during the new student test. It's not because your good scent. It's just the way you are... At first I thought it's not appropriate, youre my students, but then I think it's not like I'm going to confess to a pup. You are 25, I'm 36. Not bad of the gap, eh? Even though I’m not sure this is the right time either, but… how long do I have to wait for the right time? I happened to get the chance tonight. I’m not young anymore. I don’t have time to argue with myself about feelings. My feelings are not gray. I like you, or actually, I love you.”
Ten’s mouth was still open, unable to respond.
“You’re an adult too, so I think the age difference won’t be a problem. You can decide your own future.” Taeyong took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “If you might have the same feeling… would you like to be my mate?"
Ten closed his mouth, feeling his heartbeat pounding hard.
“Please don’t feel pressured by our academic status. You have 100% your own free will. I won’t force myself to you or use my pheromone to cage and harms you if you reject me. Your academic life and my job have nothing to do with my feelings right now,” Taeyong explained, gently stroking Ten’s fingers. "And you can always take your time. I will wait."
Ten cleared his throat, now certain Taeyong wasn’t rambling or pulling a prank like YouTubers he watched.
“Actually, Chef. I… might have the same feeling as you.” Ten saw the light in Taeyong’s eyes that made his knees weak.
“But to be a mate… isn’t it too soon? I mean… I’m just not ready for this big decision, yet. I need time to adjust… uh…” Ten fumbled for words, then his eyes widened, quickly adding, “Uh—I’m not turning you down! I’m definitely not rejecting you, Chef. I even imagine myself having family with you in the future—”
Taeyong laughed, stroking Ten’s hair gently. “I understand, Ten. You don’t need to define yourself. If you want a process of getting to know each other, I would gladly accept it.”
Ten sighed in relief, he thought to himself that they need to prepare many things before jumping to their new relationship. But Taeyong seemed to read his mind again, taking his hand once more.
“I’m very professional, Ten. I promise I will never mix personal matters with our academic relationship. I won’t treat you differently in class, and I know you also don’t want people to know about this because it might affect how your friends view your academic value.”
Ten nodded quickly, unconsciously puffing his cheeks that making Taeyong chuckle.
Embarrassed, Ten turned away, feet swinging lightly while his hands rested on the wooden bench.
A sudden happiness bloomed in him. Ten's lavender scent again puffed up around them, and Taeyong's sandalwood scent joined in. Both of their scent seems like collided in the sky, interwined, mixed.
The feeling of falling in love. The feeling of one found his mate for life.
“Ah, it feels like being inside a romantic novel,” Ten said with a wide smile, eyes curling like crescents under the moonlit sky.
Taeyong continued watching him fondly.
“Or like being in a French classic music video,” Ten murmured, scooting closer that makes Taeyong following, slipping his arm around Ten’s waist.
“What? La Festin?” Taeyong teased. Ten snapped his head toward him, scoffing.
“Why La Festin?! You’re really not the romantic type, Chef,” Ten pouted. Taeyong laughed, shrugging.
“I only know La Festin,” he said shamelessly. Ten scrunched his nose.
“Don’t tell me because of Ratatouille? La Festin isn’t even a classic song!”
Taeyong laughed again, tightening his hold around Ten’s waist. Ten lightly smacked his shoulder, then froze, realizing he was being so casual with his own headmaster.
“Chef… sorry,” he said quickly. Taeyong chuckled again, he had laughed more tonight than in the past year combined.
“No need to apologize. And you don’t have to talk so stiffly when we’re alone,” Taeyong said, holding Ten’s hand and placing it on his lap. He released another pheromone to comfort Ten again.
“In that case… since tomorrow’s schedule starts at 1 p.m., is it okay if we spend more time tonight? I really want to see the Seine River at night. A taxi would take less than 10 minutes, right?” Ten asked, eyes shining. “I can also teach an oldie like you how to be romantic.” He teased, now completely relaxed and comfortable. A side of him that made Taeyong fall even harder.
“Anything you want,” Taeyong replied, stroking Ten’s hair softly. Ten’s smile never faded.
“Merci.” Ten turned, looking straight into Taeyong’s eyes. “Je t’aime, La Parfait,” he whispered, gaze soft as he squeezed Taeyong’s hand.
Taeyong was speechless for a moment. Ten’s sincere expression made him feel like floating. At this moment, if Ten asked him to swim across the Seine to prove his love, he probably would.
“Je t’aime, mon amour,” Taeyong finally replied. Ten stood up excitedly and pulled Taeyong with him.
Ten was wrong, Taeyong thought. La Parfait suited Ten far more than him.