Archive of Our Own

Jeongguk was a bit of a prodigy in the world of cooking. He began training at fourteen under an ameteur chef before catching the eye of Kim Seokjin, a famous chef and food critic. Seokjin took him under his wing when he turned sixteen, teaching him all that he could. It was when he turned eighteen that they parted ways. He ended up in France, where he went to an official culinary school.

By the time he was twenty-two he was the head chef of one of the upcoming successful restaurants in France. He earned an AA Rosette for the restaurant at the same age. He worked there for another year before leaving, much to the disappointment of his employers.

He danced around at different restaurants for a few months, never staying long enough to make much of an impact, before finally settling back down in his hometown, Busan. But after a month, the ocean side, no matter how calming and nostalgic, was too quiet for him. He wandered into the heart of Seoul, applying to every restaurant searching for a chef.

Although he received many call backs, there was one that snagged his attention.

Serendipity.  

It had a grand opening nearly fifteen years ago in the wealthy part of Seoul, bringing in famous individuals from the entertainment industry, business world, and even a few high end figures from overseas. The menu boasted of contemporary Korean cuisine, mingling Spanish, French, and Japanese styles. It was a huge hit then and continued to be a respected restaurant, even as the ownership changed hands a few times. It earned two Michelin stars eight years ago and has held onto them since.

For a chef, working in Serendipity's kitchen meant they had an understanding of various ingredients and different styles of cooking. Most of the staff in the kitchen had cooked in many different parts of the world, and those that hadn’t were forced to show dedication and determination if they wanted to stay afloat in that stressful environment. It would be humbling, to put it lightly. An ego destroyer, to put it not so lightly.

Jeongguk had applied because of his experience with French cuisine, but had not expected to gain a round of interviews. Serendipity was that prestigious, even with his resume. He was pleasantly surprised and considered his opportunities. Serendipity could give him the type of work experience that would make him irresistible to any other restaurant. Without much of a second thought, he set his heart on Serendipity.

The interview process made him nervous–it had been a while since his talents were so thoroughly questioned. His interviewer was a stone-faced woman by the name of Park Soohyun, who was one of the three sous chefs. She had clearly done her research, bringing up things from his cooking history he had forgotten about. 

As her final test, he had to cook. He only had thirty minutes to look at the menu and ingredients list before being asked to cook a random appetizer, entree, and dessert she chose. Thankfully, he was allowed the assistance of a kitchen porter to gather the ingredients for him and to do half of the prep work, after that, he was on his own. In his small corner of the busy kitchen–preparing that morning for lunch–he felt like he was sixteen again, slaving away under Seokjin’s kind yet unforgiving tutelage. It was the first time in a long while that he was actually sweating, his steady hands trembling as he added the final pinch of cinnamon sugar to the dessert. Soohyun had sampled his previous dishes with an unchanging face, leaving both plates practically untouched.  He didn’t expect her face to change as he set the dessert in front of her.

“What is this?” She gestured to the slice of cake, one eyebrow raised.

Jeongguk wiped his hands nervously. “The apple cranberry galette, Sous Soohyun-nim.”

It had been the first thing he had Heeseung, the kitchen porter, get started on. It took two hours to cook, so he had to divide his attention between the dessert and the other dishes the whole time. It was a French dish, so it was more fresh in his mind than the appetizer and entree he had just made.

“Yes, but you changed it.”

He bit his lip. Changing the recipe was a risky thing to do, especially in an interview, but he couldn’t resist when he knew that it was better this way. Call it a matter of taste, but he had never been able to go back to the original way after stumbling into this discovery.

“I did,” he admitted softly.

She poked at one of the little circles of glaze on the plate. “Explain.”

“I topped it with a brown sugar and cinnamon apple glaze. It’ll bring out more of the subtle sweeter flavors as well as help soften the crust a little.”

“You burned the crust?”

“No!” He exclaimed, horrified. Soohyun looked doubtful, so he launched into another explanation. “The crust is fine—maybe a little underdone— but it’s also the part that most customers don’t want to eat. The glaze makes it more appetizing…” he trailed off, embarrassed that he had started rambling.

Soohyun’s expression smoothed back into its emotionless stone. She lifted her fork and cut into the slice, and Jeongguk watched with anticipation as she finally tasted it.

For a moment, she said nothing.

Then she twisted, startling Jeongguk when she yelled, “Yoongi!”

The name was familiar, and when a short pissed off man came stalking over, Jeongguk knew why.

Min Yoongi was an infamous chef in the culinary world. He was the youngest chef to win a three star Michelin, earning it for the restaurant Daechwita at twenty-four. He stayed there for two years before disappearing. Many wondered where he ended up, and Jeongguk was surprised to see him here.

“Why are you yelling at me?” he snapped. “I’ve got about a million other things to do right now and you’re distracting me with-” He glanced at Jeongguk, squinting at him for a second. “-a fetus. Geez, how old are you kid?”

Jeongguk knew his offense was showing. “Twenty-four.”

“Quit being a grumpy old man.” Soohyun rolled her eyes. She shoved the fork at him and gestured to the galette. “Eat.”

Jeongguk thought that he would argue, but surprisingly, Yoongi just took the fork and cut into the dessert. He chewed for a second before pausing. He lifted his eyes to Jeongguk, the sharp catlike gaze making him shiver.

“You made this?”

Too nervous to speak, Jeongguk nodded.

“You start tomorrow.” He declared, setting the fork back on the plate with a harsh clink.

Jeongguk sucked in a breath, “What?”

“I want you in the kitchen by nine a.m. Don’t be late or you’ll be stuck on dish duty for the next month. You’ll be working under Soohyun-” She smiled, the first smile that Jeongguk had seen since meeting her. “-as you learn how this kitchen runs and get to know everyone. I suggest grabbing a menu before you leave tonight. The faster you learn what we make, the faster I can actually put you to use. Have you ever been a head chef before?”

“Y-yes. While I was working at-”

“Don’t care.” Yoongi brushed it off. “You’ll be starting as a commis until you prove yourself capable of handling something higher–previous experience means shit to me until I see it with my own eyes.” 

Despite the harsh words, Jeongguk could feel a smile start to tug at the corner of his mouth. Yoongi must have seen it too, because he smirked.

“Welcome to Serendipity, kid.”

He spun around, taking two steps because pausing to look over his shoulder.

“Also?” His eyes sparkled. “If you change one of my dishes again, I’ll kick your ass. Bring in your recipe for the glaze tomorrow.”

When Jeongguk finally met the owner of Serendipity, it was in the middle of the most chaotic nights he had ever worked in his life.

The restaurant was packed, filled to the brim with directors, singers, and actors. Some important person had gotten married and reserved the space for their reception. Dealing with influential people was normal in this restaurant, but weddings were always special occasions and tended to be more trouble than they were worth. Especially because there was a lot more alcohol involved than usual. Drink and be merry, right?

Jeongguk was not merry right now. He was up to his elbows in desserts, one of the three pastry chefs scrambling to get over one hundred orders out to the tables. He had just barely become a station chef less than a week ago, crawling his way up from commis for the past two months. It was the longest he ever took to get promoted, but he already knew that working here would probably take his ego down a peg or two. Moral of the story; he wasn’t quite up to speed as he should have been.

It didn’t help that the front of the house had been making mistakes all night, leaving it to the kitchen to pick up the pieces.

“This hanwoo needs to be medium rare, not rare.”

“The ticket says rare!” Yoongi snapped, taking the plate from her. Jeongguk watched him out of the corner of his eye. He had learned pretty fast that it was always a good idea to keep the executive chef in his eyesight when possible. “I need a medium rare hanwoo right now!”

“Yes, chef!”

“I misheard!” Chulsoo grabbed two plates of dessert but Yoongi grabbed her before she could leave.

“That has one more coming! Good gracious, can’t you read?!”

“I’m a little stressed right now!”

“Aren’t we all—where is that last plate of mochi?!”

“Right here!” Jeongguk shouted, spinning on his heel to slide it over to Chulsoo. She shifted one plate to her forearm before picking up the last one.

“Next time double check the ticket, and get me Jimin!” Yoongi snapped. Chulsoo huffed, making him scowl before he grabbed the ticket from the next waiter. “TWO MEDIUM WELL LAMB AND ONE MEDIUM HANWOO!”

“Yes chef!”

Jeongguk didn’t know who Jimin was—he hardly knew any of the wait staff since he was so new—but he certainly didn’t want to be them at the moment. With the way Yoongi was right now, they would probably get the earful of a lifetime.

He didn’t even see Jimin come in, only becoming aware of their arrival when he spoke.

“I’ll take those tickets, sweetheart, thank you. Yoongi-hyung,” —Jeongguk choked; he had never heard anyone address Yoongi as hyung— “I need four mugwort and two well done lamb.”

The voice was sweet, honeyed, and layered with strength and command. It cut directly over the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, ripping Jeongguk’s attention from the dessert in front of him.

First thing he noticed were the glasses. Thick framed and black, set over a small nose and pushed up with small fingers. Then he noticed the hair, a delicate and soft looking blonde parted and styled effortlessly to show off a round face and cherubic cheeks. The final thing he noticed was the way Yoongi relaxed, the ever present line of stress in his shoulders softening. It was shocking.

“Four mugwort and two well done lambs!”

“Yes chef!”

Yoongi handed the plate he was working on over to Soohyun, taking a moment to give Jimin his attention. Jeongguk dragged his eyes away, thankful that while his eyes had been distracted, his hands hadn’t. He slid the plate to the pickup counter, one ear trained on the conversation between Yoongi and Jimin.

“-front of the house is a mess. You need to have a serious talk with Yeri, as well as a chat with Chulsoo about her attitude.”

“I’ll take care of it after we’re done tonight—six k-sweets!”

His voice rose effortlessly to relay the direction, and Jeongguk was surprised when the sous chef over the desserts answered immediately instead of waiting for Yoongi to repeat it. Yoongi gave her no reprimand. It was becoming steadily clear to Jeongguk that Jimin wasn’t just another waiter.

“We might not get through tonight if orders keep getting messed up.”

“Things will smooth out. I’ll stay here to expedite so you can focus.”

Yoongi’s shoulder’s dropped another inch and he smiled.

Smiled.

Jeongguk nearly dropped the plate he was working on.

Min Yoongi didn’t smile. He smirked, scowled, and gave a quirk of lips. But he didn’t smile.

This was a full smile, complete with a row of teeth and a flash of gums.

“Thank you, Jimin-ah.” 

The endearing tone only made Jeongguk feel even more off balanced, unused to seeing such tender expressions on his boss’s face. His mind spun, trying to make sense of the abnormality before his professional side kicked in and told him to focus.

The next three hours were a blur of sugar, butter, and fruit. He stayed on dessert for most of the night, only switching to help with the meats when Jackson accidentally cut one of his fingers. As soon as it was bandaged, Jeongguk was back to shaping mochi and sprinkling powdered sugar over tarts. Over all of the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, a cool voice relayed orders calmly and precisely. Multiple times during the night Jeongguks’ eyes would stray to the man on the other side of the counters. He only stopped when he almost knocked over the bottle of chocolate sauce.

When the last ticket of the night was sent out, Jeongguk was startled when a cheer rose up in the kitchen. He wasn’t surprised to see that it was led by the mysterious Jimin.

“Alright, alright!” Yoongi chuckled, when the cheer had gone on long enough. “We had a few bumps in the road but I would say tonight was successful. Good work everyone!”

Another cheer started, and Jeongguk smiled from where he was cleaning the excess powders off of the counter. He got so swept up in closing down for the night that he almost didn’t react when his name was called.

“Jeongguk,” Yoongi waved him over. “Come over here for a second.”

Jeongguk handed his broom over to Naeyeon, and scurried over, eyes darting to the person standing next to Yoongi. Jimin smiled as he came over, his eyes scrunching slightly. Jeongguk couldn’t quite look him in the eye, wondering why Jimin made him so nervous. He ducked his head respectfully, making Jimin’s smile widen.

“Jimin, you haven’t met Jeongguk yet, have you?” Yoongi said in way of introduction.

“No,” Jimin hummed, something almost playful in his tone. “I haven’t. It’s nice to meet you, Jeongguk-shi.”

“Nice to meet you as well, Jimin-shi.” He ducked his head again, feeling a little awkward.

“Jeongguk,” Yoongi started, a glint of amusement  in his eyes. “Jimin is the one who writes your paychecks.”

Oh.

OHHHHH.

Jeongguk dropped into a full ninety degree bow, flustered and regretful. “I am so sorry for my rudeness, sajang-nim. I didn’t realize-”

He startled when a pair of hands landed on his shoulders. He looked up, blinking at Jimin’s slightly red face.

“Please, Jeongguk-shi, there is no need to be that formal.” He chuckled, urging him to sit up. The sound soothed some of Jeongguk’s frazzled nerves. “Just call me Jimin.”

“I’m really sorry-”

“It’s alright!” He grinned, a charming smile that made Jeongguk’s heart stutter. “You didn't offend me at all. Okay?”

Jeongguk swallowed. “Okay.”

Jimin’s hands fell from his shoulders, and he became suddenly aware that the top of Jimin’s head barely reached his eyes. Short and attractive, good lord.

Annnd he was Jeongguk’s boss.

“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, Jeongguk.” Jimin said as Yoongi stepped away, leaving them to talk. “AA Rosette at the Pierree Ganaire, right?” With Jeongguk’s nod, he tilted his head, impressed. “How old were you?”

“Twenty-two. It was about two years ago.”

“That’s impressive. Who did you train under?”

“A lot of chefs,” Jeongguk rubbed the back of his neck. “But mostly under Kim Seokjin.”

Something clattered, and both of them looked over to see Yoongi clutching half a set of metal bowls. His eyes were wider than Jeongguk had ever seen them.

“Jin-hyung?” He questioned, Jeongguk nodded slowly. Yoongi cursed under his breath, looking away. When he looked back, it was with narrowed suspicion. “You’re Jin-hyung’s brat?”

“Yesss? Why?”

Jimin giggled from beside him.

“Jin-hyung and I trained together.” Yoongi muttered. “Pretentious piece of shit always had to one-up me.” He pointed a bowl at Jeongguk. “My expectations from you just got raised a hell of a lot, so you better impress or I’ll get Jimin to fire you.”

Jeongguk shot a fearful look at the shorter man, who just laughed harder. He swayed on his feet, and for a second Jeongguk thought he would have to steady him.

“Oh boy,” he giggled, eyes shining. “I wish you good luck, Jeongguk-shi. Based on what I heard, Seokjin-shi is a really good chef and Yoongi holds him in high regard. You better work hard,” He placed a hand on Jeongguk’s arm, squeezing slightly. He smiled, but it was different. Less kind and more… suggestive. 

“Because I would hate to have to fire you.” 

His hand slipped off of Jeongguk’s arm, his smile brightening back into a sunny one before he left the kitchen.

Jeongguk stared at the doors, wondering if it was his imagination or if Jimin had just been flirting with him.

There wasn’t much time for messing around in restaurants. There was always something to do whether it was cleaning, prepping, checking supplies, etc. Sometimes, if the kitchen was mostly done with their preparation for lunch, Yoongi would send out some of the commis and porters to help the front of the house.

Jeongguk didn’t know why he was being sent out along with them.

He felt a bit stupid, walking up with the others to the manager of the house. He had been the head chef of a Rosette restaurant as well as countless others. He had a masters degree in the culinary arts. He had been prepared and accepted the fact that he would have to work his way up the hierarchy when he applied. He was not prepared to be treated like a junior apprentice just starting to get hands-on experience.

Yet there he was, smoothing out table cloths, setting wine glasses and cutlery, and folding napkins into boats. Or, trying to fold napkins into boats. And failing. Kind of miserably.

Jeongguk’s eyes narrowed as he tucked the corner of the black napkin into a fold. It untucked itself a second later. He groaned, lifting his head to glare at the ceiling. He had only been doing this for ten minutes and he was already frustrated.

“Wow, that is a very poor looking boat.” A familiar yet unplaceable voice said.

“I know.” Jeongguk huffed, unraveling the whole thing. “Do you think you could help instead of standing there and telling me how awful I’m doing?”

There was a short silence. Jeongguk knew he offended whoever it was, but he had a hard time caring when he was as frustrated as he was.

“I mean, that’s kind of my job.”

The voice finally clicked.

Jeongguk’s head snapped around, his stomach sinking in horror. Jimin smiled pleasantly at him, but it stretched a bit too thin. Jeongguk hadn’t seen him since their first meeting in the kitchen, and that had been almost a month ago. 

He was wearing the server’s uniform—black slacks, white button up, and purple vest—with his hands tucked into his pockets. He looked intimidating, and Jeongguk wondered why before realizing the absence of glasses.

And he was staring.

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk blurted, tearing his eyes away. “I didn’t mean to-” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m just a little frustrated and I took it out on you. I’m sorry, Jimin-nim.”

“No worries.” Jimin waved off the concern, but Jeongguk could tell that he was now guarded. He had seen it with enough chefs where one mistake that got them yelled at would bring their whole night down no matter how okay they acted afterwards. He internally winced. Doing that to anyone, especially his boss, upset him.

Jimin approached the table, stealing one of the napkins from Jeongguk’s small pile. He watched as Jimin’s small hands wove and tucked the fabric, settling a little boat on the table in seconds. He grabbed another one, glancing up at Jeongguk briefly.

“You set the table, I’ll fold the napkins.”

His gentle command finally unstuck Jeongguk’s frozen feet. He clumsily grabbed the pile of chopsticks, knives, spoons, and forks. He laid them out, trying to remember how the proper table setting format was.

“Are you settling in okay?”

Jimin didn’t lift his eyes from the napkins. He already had two neat rows of five done, and Jeongguk had only gotten one table sitting down.

“Y-yeah. It’s not too hard to get accustomed.”

“That’s good.”

They continued on in silence. Jimin finished with the napkins and started placing them around the table. Jeongguk couldn’t stop glancing up at him, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. He knew he had offended him, but he didn’t know how to fix it without sounding superficial.

“Why are you out here?”

Jeongguk looked up, blinking in surprise. “I- what?”

Jimin finally looked up to meet his gaze. He raised an eyebrow expectantly. “I believe I hired you as a chef, not as a waiter.”

“O-oh. You did. But uh- we’re mostly done preparing in the kitchen, so Yoongi-nim sent some of us out to help in the front.”

Jimin smiled, quick and fleeting. “I know that. I’m asking why you specifically are out here. Last I checked you weren't a commis or porter.”

Jeongguk sighed, shoulders slumping. “I don’t know. That’s a question for Yoongi-nim.”

Jimin hummed, looking at him thoughtfully. Jeongguk fiddled with a set of chopsticks feeling stupid again.

“He likes you.”

“Huh?”

“Yoongi-hyung.” Jimin adjusted one of the wine glasses. He was wearing rings, the metal clinking delicately against the glass. “He trusts you in the kitchen so he doesn’t need you in there twenty-four seven to keep an eye on you.”

“So he sends me out here?”

“He wants to make sure you keep coming back to the kitchen; that it’s what you really want.” He explained patiently. He gave Jeongguk another small smile. “Judging by how hard you were glaring at that napkin, I don’t think he has anything to worry about.”

He winced. “Jimin-nim, I am really sorry about that-”

“I know, Jeongguk-shi.” His eyes twinkled, scrunching with his smile. “It’s just not everyday that an employee snaps at me.”

“I-”

“And I asked you to call me Jimin.”

Jeongguk fumbled. “I-I can’t just drop honorifics…”

“Then call me hyung.” Jimin shrugged. “While this is a professional environment, that doesn’t mean that everything should be so strict all of the time.”

“I think Yoongi-nim would disagree with you.” He replied without thinking. He didn’t have to worry, however, because Jimin threw his head back in laughter. His giggles seemed to light up the whole room, chasing away the slight tension that had been between them.

“It’s a good thing that I’m the boss and not him then.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“You do a good job.” Jeongguk murmured, his words genuine. While he hadn’t spent much time with Jimin or seen him work, the staff was happy and well organized. They wouldn’t be happy and organized if Jimin wasn’t good at his job.

Jimin stared at him, eyes wide. A gentle flush spread over his cheeks as the compliment sank in. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jimin’s eyes were a very nice dark brown with the slightest hints of lighter shades speckled around the iris. The longer they held eye contact the longer Jeongguk wanted to see how the colors would change under the sun. It was Soohyun’s call for the commis’s and porter’s to return to the kitchen that finally made them look away.

“I should uh- get back to the kitchen.” Jeongguk stuttered, quickly setting down his final placement. Jimin nodded, his cheeks still red.

“Good luck in there tonight.”

“Thank you. Good luck to you out here as well.”

Jeongguk bowed, making Jimin scoff and roll his eyes, before darting towards the kitchen.

“Hey, Jeongguk-shi?”

He whirled back around. “Yes!”

Jimin smirked, soft and teasing.

“Forks go on the left side.”

Jeongguk flushed, nodded quickly, and retreated.

Jimin’s laughter followed him all the way to the kitchen.

Despite Jeongguk’s years of experience, Yoongi seemed to think that he needed to take him under his wing.

“Tell me what you taste, Jeongguk-ah.”

Jeongguk accepted a spoonful of soup, holding it on his tongue before swallowing it. The warmth was pleasant as it settled in his stomach. Now that the summer was melting into fall they were changing up the menu, putting more seasonal appropriate foods. When Yoongi said that they needed inspiration, Jeongguk thought that they would hit the internet and maybe some hole in the wall restaurants. He hadn’t expected the man to drag him all the way to Spain.

They were currently in Galicia, trying caldo gallego, the traditional dish of the area.

“Beans, potatoes… turnips?” Yoongi nodded, encouraging him. There was a light in his eyes that Jeongguk had grown used to since they walked into the first restaurant in Spain and the strong scent of spice hit them. “There’s a hint of meat—did they use beef broth?”

The chef shook his head, but he smiled, dipping the spoon back into the bowl. He took his own taste, closing his eyes and humming.

“Ham and beef bone as well as pork fat.”

Jeongguk nudged him with his foot under the table. “Shut up. There’s no way you could tell that.”

“When you’ve been doing this as long as I have–”

“I basically have been–”

“-you pick up on a few things.” Yoongi finished with a smirk. “How's the taste?”

“Rich,” he answered, thinking. “And hearty. Certainly better suited for cold months.”

“How would you change it?”

“I think that the meat taste is a bit too subtle.” Jeongguk picked up his own spoon and reached over to dip it into the bowl. Once he had another taste, he nodded, reaffirming his statement. “Sausage might help fix that and bring a bit more spice to it.”

“What type of sausage?”

Jeongguk’s nose scrunched. “Italian?”

“I think chorizo would work better. This is a Spanish dish, after all.” Yoongi closed his eyes after another mouthful, shoulder’s dipping. It was amazing how he had acted during the impromptu trip. The harsh cold man from Serendipity’s unforgiving kitchen had all but disappeared. It was clear to him that Yoongi liked doing things like this; traveling the world, trying new dishes, and then deciding how he could make it better. “Do you think we could work this into the menu?”

“Probably not. I think it would throw some people off. But maybe yukgaejang?”

The two of them traded ideas between mouthfuls of food, quickly demolishing the bowl between them. When they left the restaurant and headed back to the hotel, the sky was darkening. Galicia had a balsamic smell. Yoongi told him that it was because of the laurel trees. Many Galician dishes used the dried leaves.

“Where are we going next?” Jeongguk asked as he flopped onto his bed. He stretched, relishing in the feeling.

“Back to Seoul.”

“Already?” It had barely been a week.

“Yeah,” he messed with something in his suitcase. “I don’t want to use up Jiminie’s money if I don’t have to.” Jeongguk sprang up, his eyes wide. “I think we have enough to-”

“You’re not paying for this trip?”

Yoongi shot him a glare over his shoulder. “Of course not. I’d never bring you along if I was; don’t you know how much you eat?”

The words went in one ear and out the other. Jeongguk was too busy calculating how much they had spent. The airfare, hotels, buses, rented cars, and the food. He had been surprised when Yoongi asked him to go and then refused to let him pay for anything, wincing at some of the prices on the menus. Since his hyung never complained, Jeongguk assumed that he was doing well for himself.

It was different now that he knew that he hadn’t been using Yoongi’s money. He had been using Jimin’s.

“Don’t worry, Jeongguk-ah. This is in the restaurant budget. The money I’m using is what Jimin specifically set aside for trips like this.” Yoongi reassured, turning back to his suitcase. “That’s why you didn’t have to request time off; this is technically work. If you still feel guilty, pick him up a souvenir or something. I’m sure he’d love it.”

Jeongguk relaxed once he heard that it was part of the budget, but Yoongi’s ending comment didn’t sit right with him.

“Why would I pick him up a souvenir?”

“Wow, okay, Jeongguk. You’ll just use Jimin’s money and not even get him a gift-“

“No!” He nearly yelled. “I just meant that we don’t know each other very well. Wouldn’t it be weird to receive a gift from someone you’re not close to?” He fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt. “He’s my boss; isn’t that strange?”

Yoongi shrugged, finally surfacing from his suitcase with a leather bound notebook. Jeongguk had seen him with it in the kitchen when he was experimenting with dishes. Probably a personal recipe book.

“In any other restaurant with any other person it would be. But Jiminie is different. He’s very good at blending and unblending the lines between professional relationships and casual ones. As long as you can keep up with that and do your job when you’re supposed to then you’ll find it’s not strange at all.”

Jeongguk let his words sink in before blurting,

“Are you two dating?”

Yoongi shot him a disgusted look, and Jeongguk panicked. He didn’t know where Yoongi stood on same sex relationships.

“My boyfriend would kick my ass if I dated his best friend.”

“Oh.” Now he knew where he stood, and thankfully it was on the safe side.

“And when I say blending the lines between professional and casual, that doesn’t mean you should cross all the lines and fuck your boss-“

“Hyung!” Jeongguk spluttered, going beet red. “I wasn’t- I don’t-“

“Relax, Guk,” Yoongi drawled, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t say you were-“

He paused, long and heavy.

“Jeongguk,” he said slowly. Tension swayed between them. Jeongguk’s heart twisted in his chest, already knowing what he was going to ask. “Do you like Jimin?”

He tugged at the edges of his sleeves, avoiding eye contact. This was awkward.

“Jeongguk.” Yoongi gowled. It was a reprimand and a warning all in one tone. “Of all the people to fall for-“

“I don’t.” He took a deep breath then let it out slowly. Yoongi watched him with narrowed eyes, silently judging. But Jeongguk could also see the worry. No doubt he had seen how messy kitchens could get when relationships cropped up, especially when they ended. It was bad enough between chefs and wait staff, but this was a whole different level.

Thank goodness Jeongguk knew how stupid it was and didn’t plan on doing anything. Not to mention, he didn’t really know Jimin. They hadn’t interacted enough for him to form any lasting feelings other than initial attraction.

“He’s attractive,” Jeongguk finally said, ignoring the hiss from Yoongi. He wasn’t done. “But! That doesn’t mean I’m going to go after him. He’s my boss—that would be wrong on so many levels—and I have no intention of getting into a relationship with anyone that I work with. That would just be stupid.”

“It would be pretty stupid.” Yoongi agreed immediately, still sounding bitter. But he was relaxing, the terse lines of his body soothing. He pointed his book at him. “I’m holding you to what you said, so if something ever does happen between you, make sure I never find out. So I would be careful.”

“Nothing will happen. It’s not like I could catch his eye anyway.” Jeongguk muttered. There was that one time during their first meeting where he thought Jimin was flirting, but he had probably imagined it. 

Caught up in his own thoughts, he missed Yoongi’s muttering of,

“Oh trust me, you have.”

To Jeongguk, cooking was relaxing. It was his relief. His escape from his troubles. When he was training, he often spent the evening after a stressful day piecing together desserts. They were always what he turned to. Something about the sweetness of them counteracting a bitter day.

So it was no surprise to him, after a bad night in the kitchen, that he stayed late and started mixing batter.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him tonight. He had been a mess, barely able to keep his head screwed on straight. He made multiple mistakes, and Yoongi had been forced to remove him from meat and stick him on prep with the porters. He didn’t talk to Jeongguk for the rest of the night; he got the impression he was disappointed in him.

Jeongguk could try to blame it on a number of things: the poor night's sleep he had gotten, not being used to the fall menu, his fellow chefs making mistakes and screwing him up, or even the argument that had broken out between Yeri and Yoongi in the middle of the dinner rush. 

But Jeongguk was humble enough to admit that it was just him cracking under the pressure.

The kitchen was completely empty and dark aside from Jeongguk’s little corner. It was late, probably around one in the morning. He was tired, but relaxed as he added strawberry syrup to his cream frosting, turning it a light, baby pink. No matter how stressful cooking could be, it always brought him peace in the end.

Jeongguk was cleaning up a little of his mess when he heard the doors to the kitchen swing open. Confused,–why would anyone be here this late–he looked over his shoulder, immediately locking onto wide brown eyes.

“Oh.”

The soft, surprised exhale was emitted by none other than Jimin. He stood hesitantly on the threshold of the kitchen, small fingers curled around the edge of one of the doors. Even in the dim light, Jeongguk could see the exhaustion in his body, noticeable by the bags under his eyes, almost hidden by his glasses, and the slump of his shoulders, as if he couldn’t keep them up. His hair was mussed up and in desperate need of a comb.

The thing that caught his attention the most, however, was the hoodie. It was too big for him, drowning his frame, the hem falling halfway past his thighs. It made him look smaller, more vulnerable.

The silence between them continued. Jeongguk’s brain was too busy processing Jimin’s appearance and the fact that he was still in the restaurant to come up with any sort of conversational words. Jimin seemed to be in the same slump.

The timer on the oven went off.

Jeongguk’s eyes snapped away from Jimin and he scrambled to grab a towel. This particular recipe was delicate; even a minute too long in the heat could ruin it.

He pulled out the cookie sheet, twisting it towards the light to check the coloring. The surface was a perfect tawny brown. He grinned, setting the pan and its content aside to cool. He turned back to the doors, blinking when he saw that Jimin hadn’t moved an inch.

He was watching him with an unreadable expression, but it faded away into an apologetic one.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone was still here.”

Jimin’s voice was quiet, but it still sounded loud in the dead silent kitchen.

“Why are you apologizing?” He tilted his head. He was far too tired to be flustered by Jimin’s presence. “It’s technically your kitchen.”

Jimin finally stepped into the room, shuffling over to one of the many fridges that lined a corner of the room. He was wearing a fluffy pair of Christmas socks, despite the holiday being a few more months away.

“I would say it’s Yoongi-hyung’s kitchen, actually.” He blinked at the light that flickered on when he opened the fridge, eyes scrunching into tired slits. “I’m never in here enough to call it mine, and I don’t even use it so…” he pulled out a small bottle of strawberry milk. Jeongguk recognized it as one of the bottles Yoongi told him not to touch unless he wanted to lose his hand. He briefly considered warning him, but then sighed when he remembered that it was Jimin’s money that stocked the fridges.

Jimin twisted the metal cap, the small pop echoing slightly. It was only after he took a small sip that he looked over at Jeongguk curiously.

“Why are you here so late?” He asked softly.

“Uhm,” Jeongguk floundered before flicking his hands towards the clutter of cookie cutters, bowls, whisks, and other cooking utensils. “Cooking?”

“I can see that.” Jimin smirked, cuing him into the fact that he had misunderstood the question. Which seemed to happen a lot between them.  “Why are you here instead of at home?”

“This kitchen is well stocked. Not just in ingredients, but equipment and utensils.” Jeongguk reached over to pick up the case of cookie cutters. They were all circles, but in various different sizes, far more than anyone would have in their normal kitchen. He tilted it toward Jimin so he could see. “If I tried to collect this type of stuff for my own home I’d have to sleep on the floor because there would be no space for my bed, let alone any other furniture.” He shrugged, becoming sheepish. “Plus I just like it better here.”

There was something about the atmosphere. It was a place of creation, hard work, and passion. Jeongguk felt inspired here, even if he wasn’t creating anything new. In the giant space, filled only by him, he could have a calm focus. Which is exactly what he needed after the long day.

“Why are you here?” He asked, finally turning back to his dessert. It was cool enough that he could start cutting into it.

“Finishing up some paperwork.” Jimin sighed, his voice lowering into a mutter. “Though there was a lot more than I was anticipating.”

“Taking a break?”

“Hmm, yeah.”

Their conversation faded away into silence. Jeongguk could feel Jimin watching him as he worked, but the extra pair of eyes didn’t make him anxious. In fact, it was strangely comforting, having him there.

“What are you making?” Jimin asked after a while. Jeongguk had just finished stacking the wafer cookies into groups of three.

“I don't really have a name for it.” Jeongguk answered, sweeping the tiny circles he had cut out of the middle of each cookie into a bowl. “But it’s basically a strawberry wafer cookie.”

Jeongguk glanced over his shoulder, his heart doing a funny twist when he saw how relaxed and sleepy Jimin looked. He was sitting on the counter, one leg pulled to his chest while the other hung down. Jimin had his cheek pressed against his knee, glasses slightly askew, and eyes barely open. The strawberry milk sat at his side, half empty.

“It smells good.” Jimin mumbled, eyes slipping shut. His chest rose and fell with his inhale and exhale. “Like a warm summer’s evening.”

Jeongguk swallowed.

“Do you want some?”

Jimin’s eyes sprang open, suddenly wide awake.

“Oh, I didn’t mean-” He lifted his head, glasses barely on his nose. He pushed them back with fidgety fingers. “Are you sure?”

Jeongguk chuckled, a small smile slipping over his face.

“Isn’t food supposed to be eaten? You can’t expect me to eat all of this by myself.” He planned to hand them out to the middle schoolers who always took the bus with him in the morning, but he was sure that there would be plenty left.

Even in the dark, Jeongguk could see Jimin’s blush. For some reason, it was highly amusing to see him so frazzled. It seemed like Jeongguk was always the one who was stumbling and nervous around him.

Cute, he couldn’t help but think.

He shoved the thought away.

“I didn’t, but, uhm.” He ran a hand through his hair, shooting Jeongguk a flimsy smile. His hesitancy was unsettling, as if he was expecting Jeongguk to snap at him. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

Jeongguk raised an eyebrow. “You just said that it smelled good. How is that pressuring?”

“Well, it’s not, but for some people…” He trailed off and just shrugged, dropping it. Jeongguk didn’t want to let it go. He opened his mouth, prepared to push, but stopped.

It wasn’t his place. He hardly had any sort of relationship with Jimin. They weren’t close enough to warrant Jeongguk prying into his personal life, especially since Jimin clearly wanted to move on. So he let the topic drop, setting it aside for a later time. If there ever was a later time.

But he couldn’t set it aside without making any comment.

“Well, any chef that doesn’t offer their food has something to hide.” Jimin looked up at the words, lips parted slightly in surprise. Jeongguk met his gaze unmovingly. “I certainly don’t.”

For a small moment, there was a thread of tension between them. Jeongguk hadn’t expected the words to mean something, but he knew they held weight by the look in Jimin’s eyes. The surprise followed by glimmers of wonder, acceptance, and gratitude.

Jeongguk broke the tension by turning away, his heart beating faster than it should.

“Let me finish it and then you can try it.”

Jimin’s answering hum was filled with warm tones. Once again, Jeongguk could feel his eyes, but this time they were less comforting and more… more something. He didn’t know, but it made him work a little faster.

He smoothed the cream over the top and sides of the stacked cookie, hiding the layers with fluffy pink waves. Then, he crossed over to the refrigerator, pulling out the diced strawberries he had macerated earlier. Using a spoon, he filled the middle of the two inch tall cookie before spooning some syrup over the top. It dripped down the sides. As a finishing touch, he grabbed the whipped cream, spraying a dollop on the top to hide the strawberry filling and three more on the plate as decoration. They looked like little flowers.

Feeling a little nervous, Jeongguk presented the plate to Jimin.

The blonde haired man took the plate carefully. He seemed to think touching it would cause the dessert to tip over.

“It looks really good.” Jimin murmured, his eyes a little wide as he stared down at the plate.

“Presentation is the easy part,” Jeongguk said distractedly, watching Jimin lick his lips. He shook himself out of it. “The taste is what really matters.”

The gentle urging was all Jimin needed. He cut into it, and trepidation settled in Jeongguk’s stomach. He should have tried the cookie first, to make sure that it wasn’t too dry or crisp. He also might have added too much sugar when he macerated the strawberries; it could be too sweet. He had made this dessert plenty of times before, but somehow it all didn't matter as he watched Jimin chew and swallow, hands twisting in his apron.

Hands that froze the moment Jimin’s eyes started to sparkle.

“Jeongguk,” a giant smile bloomed across his lips. “This tastes amazing!”

“It does?” He breathed. Jimin didn’t answer, too preoccupied with eating another mouthful. He was wide awake now, positively buzzing with energy. “Are you sure it isn’t too sweet?”

“Of course not!” Jimin’s eyes narrowed, almost turning into a glare. “It’s perfect. How did you get the strawberries to be this sweet?”

“Oh, I macerated them.” Jimin gave him a blank look, and he fought a laugh. “I put sugar over the top, mixed it in, and then put it in the fridge. The sugar pulls out the juices of the fruit while also sweetening it. It’s quite easy to do.”

Jimin nodded along, bringing the fork to his mouth again. He sighed at the taste, closing his eyes in bliss. Some might have thought that it was an overreaction, but Jeongguk got the feeling Jimin’s reactions were genuine.

“Do you like sweets, Jimin-shi?”

His eyes fluttered open, expression sheepish as he nodded.

“I’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, yes.” He sighed, leaning back a little. “It’s torture when I’m out on the floor; I have all of the desserts at my fingertips yet I have to serve them to other people instead of eating them myself.”

“You could ask someone to make you some.” Jeongguk offered. “I’m pretty sure no one in the kitchen would mind.”

Jimin shook his head. “You give into temptation once and it becomes harder to resist the next time.”

“Ah, then I guess I shouldn’t have given you that.” he said playfully, pointing to the mostly empty plate. Jimin pulled it closer to himself protectively, as if Jeongguk would take it.

“O-once in a while doesn’t hurt.” He hurried to say. 

Jeongguk couldn’t hold back his laughter this time, his chuckles filling the empty space. Jimin pouted at the reaction, but there was a pleased glint in his eyes.

“You’re right about that, Jimin-shi.” He giggled, turning to start cleaning up. He had just started to wash the dishes when Jimin spoke, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“I’ve finally moved up in the world. I’m no longer Jimin-nim. How long will it take me to get you to call me hyung?”

“When you stop being my boss, I guess.” Jeongguk answered honestly.

“Oh, really? Then you’re fired.”

Jeongguk choked, head snapping to Jimin. The older man burst into giggles, nearly falling over himself. He knew it was a joke, but it had been delivered so seriously.

“That wasn’t nice.” He grumbled, scrubbing the bowl harder than he needed to.

“Maybe, but it was funny.” Jeongguk heard the clink of ceramic and Jimin stepped up beside him, placing his empty plate in the sink. It had been scraped clean. “Jeongguk,” –oh, his tone was serious– “Just like this kitchen isn’t really mine, I’m not really your boss. I may write your paycheck and have my name on the ownership papers, but who do you usually answer to?”

“Yoongi-hyung,” he muttered, not lifting his eyes from the bowl.

“Exactly. He’s your real boss.” Jimin sighed. “I guess what I’m trying to say, Jeongguk, is that you don’t have to worry about being disrespectful or crossing a line with me.” Jeongguk finally looked up at him. The exhaustion had returned to his face. “I don’t want to be the boss that has a strict business relationship with my employees. I believe it makes everything unnecessarily stressful. I know that this restaurant can run successfully while still having family-like friendships. As long as you know when to be my friend and when to be my employee and act accordingly, I don’t care what you call me.” He took a deep breath before giving Jeongguk a small smile. “But I would really like it if you stopped being so formal and just called me hyung.”

The request hung in the air. Jeongguk processed Jimin’s words slowly, relating it to what Yoongi had told him a couple of weeks ago. He wanted to, but his professional side was shaking its head no.

Jimin took his silence as his answer.

He sighed, shoulders dropping. He gave Jeongguk a tired smile. “Of course, it is your choice and I only want you to do what you’re comfortable with.” He stepped away from the sink. “Thank you for the dessert, Jeongguk-shi. The kitchen is open to you whenever you’d like to use it, but I suggest going home to get some sleep. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

Jeongguk pushed his professional side away.

“Jimin- Jimin-hyung.”

Jimin stopped, halfway out the door of the kitchen.  Much like when he had come in, he stood frozen in the doorway, one had curled over the door.

“Yes?” He asked breathlessly, eyes wide and… hopeful. Jeongguk took a deep breath.

“Whenever you’re craving dessert… Come talk to me? I’ll make you something, hyung.”

It was like someone had turned on another light.

“I will, Jeongguk-ah.”

Jeongguk had a hard time sleeping that night. His mind was too busy running over their interaction, freezing every single time at the sight of Jimin in the doorway, in his too big hoodie with a blinding, joyful smile on his face.

It wasn’t difficult to know when to be Jimin’s friend and when to be his employee.

Jeongguk was his employee during lunch and dinner, when there were orders in the kitchen and people in the dining room. He was his employee during meetings, when he helped set up the dining room, and when he prepped for the night ahead of them. He was even his employee when discussing the menu, debating whether there should be additions or subtractions.

He was his friend the second the last ticket was sent out, the second a cheer rose from the kitchen after a busy night. He was Jimin’s friend before he clocked in, cheeks flushed from the cold, as he greeted him whenever he was at the bar or host table. He was even his friend sometimes during the slow hours, when not many people decided to dine at Serendipity for the night.

Jeongguk was always his friend when Jimin would catch him before the kitchen shut down, shyly asking if he could cook for him.

Those were Jeongguk’s favorite moments.

Jimin would pull up a stool and watch him put together sugar, dough, and fruit. Sometimes they would be silent, sometimes they would talk. Most of the time it was a combination of the two.

It was during those moments that Jeongguk learned the most about Jimin and told him the most about himself.

Jimin liked rain; the smell of it, hearing it fall over rooftops, and watching it drip down window panes. He was family oriented, talking fondly of his younger brother and parents. He liked physical contact and had a habit of biting his lips and running his hand through his hair. He disliked mangoes, something Jeongguk was heartbroken to discover after Jimin’s face had screwed up after taking one bite of a dessert he had made one night. (Jeongguk made a whole new one, ignoring Jimin’s protests) He loved dancing and would sometimes spend the morning with his friend, Hoseok, in Hoseok’s dance studio.

Jimin told him about how he had come to be the owner of Serendipity after Jeongguk learned that he was only two years older than himself. Jimin’s parents had bought Serendipity from the old owner, a man who had bought it from the original chef who opened it. Jimin had only been twenty-one at the time, finishing up his bachelor’s in dance. He had decided to go back to school for a bachelors in business so that he could eventually take over the restaurant for his parents, whose age was starting to show. Four years later, and here he was.

In turn, Jeongguk told him about how he fell in love with cooking. It started with his dad in his childhood kitchen. He would come home from school and immediately help set the table. When he got older, his father asked him to help actually make the food. By the time he was fourteen, he was cooking almost all the meals, to his own insistence. His parents sent him to a cooking school and the rest was history. He talked about training with Seokjin, about how they still called each other every week.

He shared his dislike of bugs and his habit of collecting bluetooth speakers. He expressed his want for a dog despite not having the time to properly take care of one. Jeongguk opened up about having a complicated relationship with his brother due to his absence in their childhood. His favorite thing to do was walking along the beach at night, something he missed from Busan. He learned a new thing about Jimin then; his voice was dangerously sexy when he spoke in satoori.

The more time Jeongguk spent with Jimin, the more he grew to understand him. He found himself being drawn to more than just his outward appearance, but the personality that could make the room light up with just a smile. He looked forward to the evenings Jimin asked him to cook, the time set aside just for them in what seemed to be an inpretirable bubble.

And when Jeongguk caught himself staring at Jimin too long, with his heart slowly increasing its pace, he wondered if he was stepping down a path he shouldn’t.

Despite knowing when he was Jimin’s friend and when he was his employee, Jeongguk never really felt like his employee. He didn’t realize that had blurred the lines for him until the cold harsh reality hit him.

It was another jam packed night. Jeongguk was in charge of meats alongside Head Chef Heechul. He was only there for another week or so, leaving Serendipity to start his own restaurant. Which, Jeongguk was a little happy about. While Jeongguk hadn’t had any issues with the man, he also didn’t really like him either. Call it a clash of personalities. He also couldn’t help but be excited for the prospect of moving up in the kitchen again. Soohyun would probably take over his position, and there was a high chance that Jeongguk would take over hers, becoming a sous chef. Having spent almost five months in Serendipity’s kitchen, he felt it was a little long overdue.

The night had started out smoothly. There were no arguments between the kitchen and the front of the house, probably because Jimin was on the floor tonight. Before it got busy, he had time to flash smiles at Jeongguk, even winking once. The roots of his hair were starting to show; he had expressed possibly moving away from the blonde to something else. While Jeongguk would miss the blonde, he had also spent an unhealthy amount of time imagining different hair colors on the man.

The trouble came when Heechul started to get lazy. He took his time getting orders started, leaving Jeongguk to be the main person getting the food out onto the plates.

“Heechul-shi,” Jeongguk said, feeling sweat start to bead on his hairline. “Could you maybe pick up the pace a little?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled. He pulled a steak off, one that was supposed to be medium rare, but wasn’t quite done.

“That’s supposed to be medium rare.” 

“I got it, Jeon, you just focus on you.” He snapped. A retort built in his mind, but he bit his tongue.

Jeongguk flipped the lamb on the grill, adding two more as Yoongi called for them. There was a moment of silence before Yoongi’s shout came again. Jeongguk shot Heechul a glare. He was dumping sauce over the steak, way more than he was supposed to and ignoring the meat that needed to be flipped.

“Two lambs, chef.” Jeongguk yelled instead of Heechul, reaching over to flip the steak.

“Hey!” Heechul snapped.

“Next time keep an eye on it, Choi.” Jeongguk replied dryly. Heechul huffed.

“Quit bickering boys.” Soohyun muttered as she flew past them, expertly balancing five plates on her arms. Jeongguk nodded, forcing himself to pull his focus back to what he was doing.

Another thirty minutes passed before the next incident occurred.

“Two medium lambs. Three steaks, one medium rare, one rare, one well done.” Yoongi shouted. Jeongguk shoved some of his lamb back, trying to make room for two more on the grill. He would have to fire up a pan soon if this kept going.

He only realized Heechul didn’t answer Yoongi when he yelled again.

“I said, two medium lambs. Three steaks, one medium rare, one rare, and one well done!” Jeongguk glanced over at Heechul. His eyebrows were pinched together as he seasoned the steak. Jeongguk opened his mouth, but didn’t get the chance to call before Yoongi snarled, “Heechul! Talk to me!”

“I heard you, Yoongi!”

“Then tell me that! The second you go silent the second we start to fall apart.”

“Yes, chef.”

“Do you need me to call?” Jeongguk asked quietly, more out of concern than annoyance. But Heechul took it as the latter, sneering at him.

“No, Jeon, that isn’t your job. Maybe if you would focus on what you’re supposed to do instead of bothering me I wouldn’t get distracted.”

“I was only trying to-”

“Shut up, Jeon! You’re screwing me up.”

He couldn’t bite his tongue fast enough this time.

“I’m screwing you up? I think you’re doing that all on your own-”

Heechul abandoned what he was doing, stepping into Jeongguk’s space with a growl. Considering they were already standing close together, that meant that Heechul got right into his face.

“Who the hell do you think you are?! You-”

“Hey!”

Yoongi’s shout cut through his words, making both their heads snap towards the executive chef. Yoongi had tied up his hair, something he only did when he was particularly stressed. Jeongguk’s stomach dropped when he saw the storm in the elder’s eyes.

“Both of you quit arguing and focus on the damn food!”

“Yes chef!” They both yelled. Jeongguk immediately spun back to the lamb, saving two from being overcooked. Heechul on the other hand, cursed as he plated a steak and set it aside. Jeongguk tried not to let it feel like a victory.

He thought that they were done with screwing up for the night, but then Heechul made the ultimate mistake. Jeongguk could ignore too much sauce or slightly underdone meat, but he couldn’t ignore something that could make someone seriously ill.

“Two raw steaks!”

Getting an order of raw meat was super rare, most people wanting their food to be cooked at least a little. It had a high risk of causing food borne illness, so they had to handle it very carefully. Of course, the server would inform the customer of the risks so that the restaurant wouldn’t be liable, but that didn’t mean that the cooks responsible should do everything they can to make sure the person wouldn’t get sick. When dealing with raw meat, they needed to get it straight out of the refrigerator, on a plate, and sent out as soon as possible to lower the chance of bacteria growing.

That’s why when Heechul got to the order, Jeongguk watched in horror as he grabbed two slabs of raw steak that had been sitting by the grill and put it on the plates.

He spoke up immediately.

“Heechul-shi! You can’t serve that!”

“Yes I can.” He threw some seasonings and capers on. Jeongguk’s stomach churned.

“No, you can’t! It needs to be taken straight from the refrigerator–“

“I know what I’m doing!” He snapped, picking up the plates. He threw them on the pickup table, just as Soobin swept by to take them.

“Soobin, stop.”

The young waiter came to a screeching halt, the tall man blinking in panicked questioning. Jeongguk motioned him back, tearing the plates from his hands. He shoved one under Heechul’s nose, snarling.

“You. Can. Not. Serve. This.” He was baring his teeth like a rabid dog. 

“You don't know what you’re talking about!”

Jeongguk’s carefully controlled temper snapped in two, Heechul holding the imaginary scissors.

“The FUCK I know what I’m talking about!” He yelled, slamming the plate down. It shattered, but Jeongguk didn’t even notice. “You could’ve made someone violently ill-”

“Jeongguk, Heechul! What are you-”

“-and sent them to the hospital!” He talked right over Yoongi, the world around him a red blur. He could only see Heechul. “It’s been sitting on the counter for over thirty minutes. Who knows how much bacteria has grown on it, and you wanted someone to eat it! You put it on the service table, after I already said that you couldn’t send that out! And yet you want to go start your own damn restaurant! As a chef you should be ashamed-”

“What is going on here?!”

Jimin’s voice broke through his red haze. Jeongguk was yanked back into everything going on around him. The kitchen had gone silent of voices, the only noise being the muted diners from outside and the various sizzling meats and bubbling soups. Everyone was staring at the pair in the center of the kitchen, despite needing to attend to their own tasks.

Jimin stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his hands gripping multiple tickets and holding a plate of food that had presumably been sent back. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowed and demanding. Without his glasses and his hair slicked back, he looked more intimidating than ever.

His eyes darted between Jeongguk and Heechul.

“Is someone going to answer my question?” He asked lowly, voice deep and dangerous.

Jeongguk swallowed harshly. He pointed to the plate of food.

“It’s raw.” He rasped. “We have to be careful with raw foods—we need them straight from the fridge—but this has been sitting on the counter for thirty minutes. Heechul tried to send it out.”

“It hadn’t been out for that long!” Heecul snapped, lying through his teeth. “Jeon has been on my ass all night, moaning over the tiniest things–”

“You’ve been messing up all night long! Undercooking and overcooking–”

“Jeongguk! Heechul!” Yoongi snapped. “Shut your mouths. Jeongguk get back to the grill. Heechul, get two new plates of–”

“No.”

A cold, chilling voice cut through Yoongi’s demands. The executive chef fell silent. An unpleasant shiver went up Jeongguk’s spine and his throat grew tight when he saw the furious expression on Jimin’s face.

He had never seen him that angry before.

“Both of you are dismissed from the kitchen tonight.”

The words stabbed Jeongguk straight through the heart.

“W-what?” Heechul stammered. “But the night’s not even half ov–”

“My point exactly,” Jimin snapped. “I don’t need the two of you bickering and making everything more of a mess than it is. We’re backed up and wasting time.”

“So send Jeon home! He’s the start of this–”

“Choi Heechul, if you don't want to be fired this instant I suggest you clock out right now.” Jimin hissed. He wasn’t messing around. He wasn’t playing any games.

It was terrifying.

 “Jimin,” Yoongi said softly. He didn’t flinch when Jimin’s cold eyes swiveled to him, but he also didn’t look him in the eye. “I need one of them to stay–”

“You better find someone to take their place,” Jimin said unforgivingly. “And fast.”

Yoongi’s face pinched, but he nodded. “Heeseung and Yeonjun, you’re on meat.”

Jeongguk was frozen, hearing everything as if he was underwater. He snapped out of it when Jimin’s eyes fell on him. They held no warmth.

I’m an employee right now. Jeongguk realized, his whole stomach flipping. He felt sick.

“Jeongguk, why are you still standing there?” Jimin asked coldy. “Get out of the kitchen.”

And then he was looking away, stepping up to the counter and handing Yoongi the tickets as well as discussing what was wrong with the plate. The kitchen burst back into life.

Jeongguk slowly unstuck his feet from the floor. Crossed the room to the side entrance. Opened the door. Stepped out.

As soon as the door clicked behind him, he sank to the ground.

He had never been kicked out of the kitchen before.

And he had never thought that he would ever hear Jimin speak to him like that. It hurt. He felt like there had been a steel wall between them. Like… like…

As long as you know when to be my friend and when to be my employee and act accordingly…

He’s very good at blending and unblending the lines between professional relationships and casual ones. As long as you can keep up with that and do your job when you’re supposed to…

Jeongguk thought he knew. He thought that he could keep up with it. But he hadn’t. He had let it get too personal. He had let himself feel like he was on the same level. But he wasn’t.

I’m the employee.

And he’s the boss.

Jeongguk went home.

He went home and he cooked. And cooked. And cooked.

It didn’t bring him any comfort.

He stared at the clock, watching the minutes tick by. Having a night off never bothered him. They were always well deserved, backed up by his hardwork in the kitchen. This wasn’t deserved. The hours that stretched before him were shameful. Once he had gotten over his hurt, he knew that Jimin had done what he needed to as the employer. He couldn’t be soft on Jeongguk. He had engaged in the argument, taking the problem into his own hands when he should have gone to Yoongi. But instead he had been stupid, gotten into his own head, and forgotten that he wasn’t the one in charge of the kitchen.

Worst part was, he felt like he let Yoongi and Jimin down.

Yoongi, because he trusted Jeongguk to keep his head screwed on straight. When he was struggling he could call over Jeongguk to help pull some stress off his shoulders.  He had admitted that a month ago over drinks.

Jeongguk wasn’t there for him tonight.

Jimin, because whether he knew it or not, Jeongguk had proven that he couldn’t blend and unblend their professional and casual relationship. He couldn’t act like one or the other when he was supposed to. And he didn’t know how to.

Jeongguk threw down the bowl of frosting he had been trying to mix. A slight burning smell hung in the air from his last attempt of baking. It clung to his clothes disgustingly. He didn’t know why he was still trying. He should just go to bed. To sleep away this shameful disappointment. Maybe then he would-

His phone dinged.

The noise echoed in the air, a phantom breath.

Jeongguk slowly grabbed a towel, wiping his hands. He cautiously approached his table, where his phone lay.

As his eyes swept over the message, his breath caught.

Jimin-hyung (Boss-nim) [12:43 a.m]
Cook for me? Please?

Jeongguk stared at it until his phone went dark.

Then he turned and grabbed a clean bowl.

The kitchen was completely dark when Jeongguk opened the side entrance with his keys. He held his breath, letting his eyes adjust to the dark before he stepped into the room. It smelled of lingering meat and bleach. He clutched the tupperware to his stomach and fiddled for the lights. He finally managed to hit one of the switches, and one long strip of fluorescent lights flickered on.

Illuminating the person slumped over the counter.

Jeongguk stilled, assessing the situation before him. It was Jimin, he would recognize the man anywhere. He was still in the waiter’s uniform, but he had removed his tie and vest, which were laid out haphazardly on the counter. Two opened and empty bottles of soju sat next to three unopened ones. A shot glass rested just out of reach of Jimin’s fingertips. He had his head pillowed in his arms, but at the lighting change he lifted his head, blinking.

He looked exhausted.

His tired, unhappy expression barely changed when he caught sight of Jeongguk. He pursued his lips.

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

His words were raw and slightly slurred. His eyes were a little red, evidence of tears Jeongguk hadn’t been there to witness.

“Why wouldn’t I come?” Jeongguk rasped. He stepped forward hesitantly. When Jimin didn’t object, he crossed over and gently set the tupperware on the counter.

“You didn’t answer my text.” Jimin whispered. His eyes were glued to the tupperware. “I thought… I thought you…”

He shook his head, unable to finish the thought. Jeongguk didn’t pressure him. He just popped the lid off of the container. He slid  it near Jimin’s elbow. Then he crossed to the far right fridge, opening it and pulling out a bottle of strawberry milk. The milk he learned that Yoongi bought solely for Jimin.

As the fridge shut, he heard a sniffle. 

His heart cracked.

Jimin had sat up, and in his hands he held one of the cookies. It was bitten into, revealing the raspberry filling. But that wasn't what broke his heart.

It was the tears slipping down Jimin’s cheeks.

He had never seen him cry before.

“It’s good.” Jimin sniffled, setting down the cookie to wipe at his eyes. He was smearing powdered sugar over his cheeks-–that stuff got everywhere—but Jeongguk didn’t think he cared. “And warm.”

Jeongguk crossed the room, gently setting the bottle in front of him. He pulled the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand, using it to gently wipe the sugar from Jimin’s cheek. He didn’t even blink at the action, even leaning into the touch when Jeongguk’s hand lingered.

“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, wiping the other cheek. Jimin shuddered, and Jeongguk started to pull away, but Jimin’s hands curled into his hoodie, tugging him closer. His head fell to the middle of his torso, shoulders shaking. This close, Jeongguk could smell his cologne, something citrusy.

“I hate my job.” He sobbed. The sound physically hurt to hear. “I don’t want to be- I didn’t want-”

“Hey, hey, take a deep breath.” Jeongguk urged. He smoothed one hand down Jimin’s back, burying his other in his hair. Jimin followed the command, inhaling shakily. “Why do you hate your job?”

“I can’t make any friends.” Jimin cried. “Because I can’t be their boss and their friend at the same time. So even though I try so hard, I eventually lose everyone. I thought- I thought I lost you.”

The admission came out in a very tiny voice, followed by another sob.

“Why?” Jeongguk breathed.

“Because-because I had to- I sent you home, Jeongguk. Because that’s what I had to do. And you looked so broken-”

I felt broken.

“-and it broke me.” Jimin croaked. “I-I hated that I had to do that. I didn’t want to-”

“Jimin-hyung, Jimin.”

Jimin sucked in a harsh breath, before releasing it in a stuttering exhale. Jeongguk could feel the warmth of it even through the fabric of his hoodie.

“You did what you had to do. And it was the right decision.” He said quietly. “I wasn’t doing my job. You had every right, every right, to send me home. I don’t blame you. I’m not mad at you. And you certainly haven’t lost me. I’m right here.”

“I know.” Jimin rasped. He lifted his head. His eyes were still filled with tears. “But for how long?” They spilled over, coating his cheeks once again with saltiness. “How long until you leave me too?”

“Even if I leave to work at another restaurant, I don’t ever want to stop being your friend, hyung.” Jeongguk whispered. He got the feeling that wasn’t what Jimin meant, and answered the question before Jimin could ask it. “And if you’re worried about having to go all boss-mode on me again, then I better make sure not to screw up so you don’t have to.”

He got what he desired, a wet laugh. Jimin buried his face back into Jeongguk’s stomach, murmuring, “You’re too good to me.”

Not nearly as good as I could be.

Jeongguk took a deep breath. “Hyung, can you stand up?”

He could feel Jimin’s confusion more than see it, but he uncurled his hands from Jeongguk’s hoodie and stood, swaying slightly at the action. Jeongguk steaded him with a hand to his shoulder before pulling him into his arms. Jimin immediately relaxed in his hold, arms winding around his middle. He tilted his face into Jeongguk’s neck, his skin warm to the touch.

“Don’t hate your job.” He murmured. “Because you’ve got me and you’ve got Yoongi-hyung. I know for a fact that he adores you and I-” A different set of words flickered across his mind and it made him pause for a moment. “-really like being friends with you. One bad night isn’t going to ruin that for me. And I don’t want it to ruin it for you.”

“It didn’t ruin it for me.” Jimin mumbled. “I just… thought it would ruin it for you.”

“It didn’t. I’m right here.”

“I know.” Jimin patted clumsily at Jeongguk’s hip. He smiled against his neck. “I can feel you.”

Jeongguk laughed breathily, feeling far too warm. “You’re a bit drunk, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” He admitted breezily. “But not drunk enough to not remember this conversation. Or how sweet you’re being. You give really good hugs. And make really good cookies.”

Jeongguk laughed again, Jimin’s giggles intermingling. After their laughter faded, they stood in comfortable silence, still wrapped in each other. Jeongguk knew that he would savor this touch, remember it later and crave it again. But for now, he pushed all of his selfish desires away and focused on comforting his friend.

“Do you still hate your job, hyung?”

Jimin paused, thinking. Then he shook his head, soft hair tickling Jeongguk’s chin.

“No. Because I have a good friend who makes it bearable.”

Jeongguk inhaled and exhaled slowly, his heart twisting.

“I’m glad, Jimin-hyung.”

It was really hard being Jimin’s friend when he wanted to be more.

He wanted to be the one Jimin leaned into when laughing, instead of the counter or the arm of his chair. He wanted to be able to run his fingers through Jimin’s hair and press his thumb to his lip to pull it out from under his teeth. Maybe replacing his thumb with his mouth. He could already listen to Jimin talk for hours, and would willingly listen for hours more. He wanted to curl up with him, hold his hand, and listen to the rain fall. If possible, he wanted to walk along the beaches of Busan with him.

Jimin filled his days with happiness. Just being able to feel him near, see him smile, or hear him laugh sent warmth spreading through his body. Before he knew it, he had lists of desserts to make Jimin. He spent hours testing out new ones, shouting with joy, and uncaring of who heard him when he successfully created one he knew that Jimin would like. He had to buy a new recipe journal, his old overfilled and margins covered in pencil and ink.

Jimin made him excited about cooking. And he was already excited, but Jimin made him excited.

He made him fall in love with cooking all over again.

And fall in love with him at the same time.

Jeongguk became the sous chef over desserts a week after Heechul left.

Porters, commis, and station chefs didn’t have one set position. They floated to wherever they were needed for the night. It was different for the sous chefs and head chefs. In a restaurant as big as Serendipity, they had a head chef and sous chef assigned to each course. Since Soohyun had been the sous chef for appetizers, he had been expecting to take over her position there. But Nathan had been moved from desserts. When he asked Yoongi about it, he got a simple and clear answer.

“If I told you to crack open that journal-” he pointed to Jeongguk’s black book that he always had with him. “-what type of recipes do you think I would find?”

Jeongguk didn’t answer him, embarrassment flooding into his cheeks. Yoongi rolled his eyes, amusement filling them, but they also held a warning, one that he further cemented.

“I don’t think that what you and Jimin are doing is harmful, but be careful, Jeongguk.” He patted him on the shoulder. “I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

He walked away, leaving Jeongguk with a chill over his skin.

If only he knew.

Now that Jeongguk was a sous chef, he had more of a say over things than before, such as the menu, or certain ingredients in the kitchen. One thing he was set on fixing was the quality of their fruit.

It was the only work-related argument Jimin and Jeongguk got into.

“I’m telling you, Jeongguk, that the fruit we have now is fine. It’s fresh and sweet.”

“But it could be better. Sweeter, fresher.”

Jeongguk trailed after Jimin as he did inventory on their wines, carefully writing how many bottles they had of each kind and the dates. He had dyed his hair, turning the blonde strands into a tangerine orange. Jeongguk had never seen that color work on someone as well as it did on Jimin.

“But would it be worth it?” Jimin huffed, running a hand through his hair. “The price you have listed to get it from Daegu is almost double what we usually pay for our fruits. And I’m not fully convinced that they’re any different from what we get from our current supplier. Won’t it all taste the same?”

Jeongguk had to take a deep breath to stop from screeching indignantly at the insensitive and uneducated comment. He took his food seriously.

“No, it won’t.” Despite his words, there was an unconvinced gleam in Jimin's eyes. Jeongguk sighed heavily. “I’ll just have to show you.”

He didn’t back down on that. On Saturday, he dragged Jimin to the train station early in the morning and boarded the next one headed to Daegu. Jimin slept the whole way, snuggled into Jeongguk’s side. It was Jeongguk’s turn to sleep in the car, only waking up when Jimin shook him awake.

From there he was a bundle of energy, dragging Jimin along to the farm. He whined and complained about the cold—it had snowed—but didn’t say anything after Jeongguk pulled him into a greenhouse.

Having called ahead, one of the workers simply handed Jeongguk two baskets. They spent the afternoon jumping from greenhouse to greenhouse, filling the baskets slowly with fruits and vegetables. Jeongguk felt alive, breathing in the plants and dirt. As a cook, it was hard not to get excited seeing good quality ingredients, knowing that he could do with them.

The last greenhouse they stepped into was filled with strawberries and was Jeongguk’s selling point.

“You said it all tastes the same, right?”

“What?” Jimin was clearly only half paying attention, too busy picking giant, dark red strawberries.

“The fruit. You said it would all taste the same.” Jeongguk took off the bag he had been carrying the whole trip, unzipping it and pulling out a ziplock of strawberries. Jimin eyed him warily. Jeongguk shook the bag, grinning wildly. “I’m about to prove you wrong.”

“Oh my gosh. You dragged me out here just to prove a point?”

“Why else would I drag you all the way to Daegu to pick fruits and vegetables?”

Jimin didn’t answer him, huffing and pouting with red cheeks. Jeongguk wondered if he was catching a cold.

“I got this from the restaurant early this morning; the shipment came in today. So it’s as fresh as fresh can be.” He opened the bag, taking one out and handing it to Jimin. “Eat.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, but popped it into his mouth. “It tastes like a strawberry.”

Jeongguk leaned over to pick a strawberry. He carefully brushed the dirt off before offering it to Jimin. Since it was bigger, Jimin took a bite instead of eating it whole. Jeongguk waited patiently for his reaction.

Jimin stilled, his chewing slowing down. A little bit of juice from the uneaten half slid down his thumb. His expression flooded with understanding, and he sighed.

“Fine. You win.” He grumbled begrudgingly. Jeongguk threw his hands up in the air, childishly whooping.

“See?” He grinned. “I told you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jimin rolled his eyes again, bringing his thumb to his mouth. Jeongguk’s victory high took a pause as he watched Jimin’s tongue dart out to lick up the juice, sliding against his skin in a way that made Jeongguk’s mouth go dry.

His abrupt silence made Jimin look up, raising one eyebrow questioningly. Jeongguk tore his eyes away, clearing his throat.

“S-so are you swayed yet?”

Jimin hummed, sliding the last bit of strawberry into his mouth. After chewing thoughtfully, he smirked.

“Fruits and vegetables I’m sold on, but I noticed the cows grazing outside when we came in—how’s their meat products?”

Jeongguk's eyes narrowed. Jimin was challenging him, and he didn’t like to lose.

They moved from the greenhouses to the barn, where a guy named Taehyung took them through the different cuts of meat, explaining what was good quality and what wasn’t. Jeongguk nodded along, adding his knowledge of what dishes could be made with each type of cut. Even though he had been there before, he was still impressed with the produce laid out before him. Judging from the glint in his eyes, Jimin was as well. Jeongguk couldn’t help but smile when Jimin handed Taehyung a business card, telling him that they would be expecting a call from him soon.

They loaded up their purchases—the two baskets of fruits and vegetables, as well as two tenderloin cuts—into the back of the car. Jimin took the passenger’s seat this time while Jeongguk slid into the driver's seat.

“Are we going back to Seoul? Or is there another farm you want to drag me to?”

“We’re going back to Seoul, but I’m not done with you yet.”

Jimin groaned, slumping in his seat. Jeongguk snickered at his reaction, pulling onto the main road.

“Jeongguk, my feet hurt, I’m sore, hungry, and tired. What else do you want from me?”

Your heart. “We’re just going back to the restaurant, Jimin. There’s just one more thing we have to do and then I’ll release you, I promise.”

“Fine. And I’m your hyung, you brat.”

They got food before jumping on the train, Jeongguk paying for it despite Jimin’s complaints. Jimin stayed wide awake while Jeongguk dozed. By the time they rolled into the station, and Jimin drove them to the restaurant, Serendipity was hitting their dinner rush. The kitchen was a bustle of people, and as soon as Yoongi caught sight of Jeongguk and Jimin sneaking in with baskets of food, he kidnapped him.

As Yoongi shoved an apron over his head, Jeongguk shot Jimin an apologetic look and mouthed, “After we close.” Jimin just waved him off, putting their food in the walk in fridge before running off to help in the front.

It was the longest night of his life.

The minutes dragged on for hours, and although Jeongguk still got dragged into the cooking, falling into the pace easily, he still found the time to glance up at the clock. When the last ticket came through, he launched into clean up, doing everything as quickly and precisely as possible. Yoongi eyed him distrustfully.

“You want to tell me where you went with Jimin today?”

“Daegu.” Jeongguk answered truthfully. “I needed to show him that we could get better produce than we have now.”

Yoongi scowled.  “And you didn't talk to me first?”

“I didn’t, because I know that Jimin will talk to you about it. Besides, nothing is set in stone yet. I just presented the possibility to him.” Jeongguk shrugged before grinning. “But I’m definitely going to cement that possibility tonight.”

“And what makes you think that you can convince me?”

Jeongguk’s smile widened and he turned. Jimin had entered the kitchen, eyebrows raised in an innocent expression.

“Oh, I know I can convince you.” He purred, confidence oozing from his body. Jimin has been challenging him all day, both playfully and seriously. This was the one challenge Jeongguk knew that he was going to win.

“Hmm,” Jimin stepped further into the room. “How so?”

“You’ll have to see. My skills will speak for themselves.”

“Your skills.” Jimin repeated,  an unidentifiable look in his eyes.

Jeongguk nodded, smirking “You’ve seen it before, tasted it too.”

Yoongi choked, coughing loudly. Jeongguk glanced over at him, growing concerned when he saw how red he was. He shared a worried look with Jimin.

“Yoongi-hyung, are you okay?”

“Jeongguk,” he gasped. “What skills are you talking about?”

“Cooking?” he answered, confused. Then his brow furrowed. “Wait, are you saying that I don’t have any skill?”

“No, Jeongguk.” Yoongi sighed, rubbing at his face. “I was- you know what, never mind.” He walked away, muttering under his breath.

“Is that what we’re doing tonight?” Jimin asked, amused. His eyes followed Yoongi’s steps before flickering back to Jeongguk. “The last thing you had planned?”

“Yeah, we’re going to cook a meal using the ingredients we got from the farm so you can see how much better it is.”

“Oh, that sounds great- wait, what do you mean we?”

A slow, lazy grin spread over Jeongguk’s lips. He watched Jimin pale slightly before beckoning him forward.

“Welcome to my cooking lesson, Jimin-hyung.”

“Curl your fingers like this—yeah, just like that.”

“Ugh. Why are mushrooms so weird looking?”

“That’s just the way they are. Okay, we want to mince the chives next.”

Despite insisting that he wasn't a very good cook, Jimin was doing just fine. Of course, he wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t as bad as he said he was. With Jeongguk’s instructions, he didn’t need much help with the prep, allowing Jeongguk to start the sides.

It was cute, watching Jimin focus. He was wrapped up in Jeongguk’s apron because he didn’t want Jimin’s white shirt to get dirty, and that alone was to set his heart pace a little faster. But seeing him slice mushrooms and mince chives with pursed lips and a furrowed brow made Jeongguk’s chest tighten in a way it hadn’t before. Maybe it was because he was watching the person he loved doing the thing he loved. Yeah. That was probably it.

“Okay! Chives are done. What’s next?”

Jeongguk chuckled, setting aside the potatoes.

He helped Jimin season the steaks, then instructed him on heating the butter in the pan. Jimin grew a little panicked when Jeongguk told him that he would do the meat on his own, but he did well. Then Jeongguk had him cook the mushrooms. He helped him stir in the broth, cream, steak sauce, and garlic salt before wandering back over to finish the potatoes and start on the asparagus. He joined Jimin at the stove to cook them, leading him through the next steps.

“Now you just stir in the chives.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“That was… easy.” Jimin muttered, turning off the heat. Jeongguk handed him two plates, and Jimin took the two steaks out of the pan.

“See, I told you.” Jeongguk nudged him with his shoulder, taking his own pan off of the heat. Jimin rolled his eyes, scooping the mushrooms out to put over the steaks. “‘Jeongguk~! I don’t want to cook.’” He mimicked Jimin’s voice, intentionally making it high and whiny. “‘I can’t cook. It’s going to be bad. Can’t you just do it for me?’”

“Oh shut up!” Jimin lightly punched his shoulder, cheeks red. “I don’t even sound like that.”

Jeongguk laughed, taking one of the plates from Jimin. He added the potatoes and asparagus, Jimin watching him with a warm smile.

They settled down to eat, and Jimin surprised him by demanding he take the first bite.

“You always check my expression when I try your food.” Jimin explained. Jeongguk flushed—he didn't think he had noticed. “I cooked this, so I want to see what you think.”

Who was he to argue with that?

Jimin looked nervous when Jeongguk cut into the steak, his teeth scraping over his lower lip. He held his breath while Jeongguk chewed, fingers curling into the apron. It was a mirror situation, Jeongguk realized, remembering the first time Jimin had eaten his food. He wanted to laugh. It had felt so long ago.

He didn’t hesitate to smile after he had swallowed. “It’s good, Jimin.”

“It is?” He breathed. “You’re not lying to me?”

“Try for yourself.”

Jimin did, his face lighting up with delight. No doubt he could taste how the sauce perfectly complemented the meat. For his first time actually ‘cooking’ he had done phenomenally well.

“Maybe you should become a chef.” Jeongguk teased halfway through their meal.

Jimin shot back with, “Maybe I will.” Before breaking out into laughter.

“So, are you convinced?” Jeongguk asked once their plates were clear. Jimin nodded, leaning back in the chair he had stolen from the dining room.

“I’m convinced. I’ll talk to Yoongi-hyung tomorrow to make sure he agrees with it.” He gave Jeongguk a delicate smile. “You already knew that I was on board; why did you do this?”

“You could never be too sure.” Jeongguk shrugged. “But since you’re convinced I won’t have to use my secret weapon.”

Jimin perked up, eyes flashing in interest. “What secret weapon?”

“Eh, it’s nothing.”

“Is it a dessert? Please tell me it’s a dessert.”

“Something along those lines.” Jeongguk teased. “But! Since you’re convinced I won’t have to pull it out.”

Jimin crossed his arms challengingly. “What if I change my mind?”

“Nu uh. You already said you would.”

“Well maybe I need a little incentive to talk to Yoongi-hyung.” He challenged, tilting his head up defiantly. “After all, it’s difficult to change his mind when he’s set on something.”

“You play dirty.” Jeongguk accused, leaning forward. His heart jumped when Jimin leaned forward as well, smirking.

“This isn’t even me at my best.” He purred, eyes dark and glinting. “Trust me, you’ll know when I’m playing dirty.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Jeongguk asked lowly. Surprise flickered over Jimin’s face before it disappeared. Jeongguk’s breath hitched as he leaned a little closer.

“I don’t know yet,” Jimin murmured, eyes lowering slightly before flickering up. His smile turned dangerous—flirtaious and sultry—as he held eye contact. “Maybe… maybe you should make me that dessert to help me decide.”

Then he was leaning away, breaking the suffocating tension Jeongguk didn’t know had formed. He looked pleased with himself, and Jeongguk didn’t know whether to be amused, impressed, annoyed, hurt, or aroused. He settled for a mixture of annoyance and amusement. He crossed over to the fridges, well aware of Jimin’s eyes tracking the movement.

“I came prepared,” he declared, pulling out two meredash mini bowls filled with a blush pink. He set one in front of Jimin, producing a spoon. “Chilled champagne and raspberry posset. I sacrificed sleep to make this, so you better be happy.”

“Oh, I am definitely happy.” Jimin sighed, digging the spoon into it. Jeongguk returned to his own seat, watching as Jimin took the first taste. He moaned, eyes rolling up to the ceiling, and Jeongguk smiled down at his own, pleased that Jimin clearly liked it. He had worried that it wouldn’t set properly, but it had turned out decent.

“You’re really unfair, you know that?” Jimin groaned, already half done with the dessert. He always savored the last couple of bites, though. “I swear, I’ve gained twenty pounds since meeting you.”

Eyeing Jimin’s figure, Jeongguk doubted that. If he had gained weight, it only had made him prettier.

“You’re the one who twisted my arm. And you don’t have to ask me to make desserts if you don't want them.”

“That’s where the unfairness part comes in.” Jimin waved his spoon at him. “You made them so good that I couldn’t resist if I tried.”

“I bet anyone who works in this kitchen could make them just as well.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong.” Jimin hummed. Jeongguk blinked, silently asking him to continue. Jimin tapped his spoon against his mouth. “I asked Yoongi-hyung to make me dessert on one of the nights you had off. I was really craving something sweet and I didn’t want to bother you, so I asked him instead.” He shook his head. “It didn’t taste the same. Your cooking has this warmth and… and life, to it that someone else couldn’t recreate. Even when I’m eating something cold, like this.” He held up the chilled posset. “There’s a vibrancy that makes it irresistible. Though,” he chuckled. “It might just be the champagne.”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes, but his smile was wide enough to make his nose scrunch.

“I’ve developed an addiction to your sweets.” Jimin sighed. “It’s going to really suck if you decide to leave.” His expression went soft. “You’re one of a kind, Jeongguk.”

If Jeongguk wasn’t grossly in love with him already, he knew he would have fallen at that moment.

“I won’t leave.” Jeongguk murmured. “Not until I earn this restaurant a third Michelin star.”

“That’s a hefty statement.” Jimin whispered, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Are you sure you can-”

“It’s not a statement. It’s a promise.”

He heard Jimin suck in a breath. Then he smiled, soft and warm.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

With the winter holidays approaching, Serendipity got packed. They had reservations booked out all the way to New Years, even stretching past Valentines day. It seemed that those who couldn’t get a table for Christmas or New Years decided to try for the holiday of love, or at least close to it. They hired some temporary help to assist wherever they were needed. The head and sous chefs spent quite a few nights with their heads bent over their respective recipe journals, trading ideas for a special holiday menu. Jimin joined them on a few nights, discussing the costs.

Although every day was exhaustion packed, Jimin and Jeongguk spent at least four days a week in the kitchen after hours. Jimin had asked Jeongguk to teach him how to cook after that night of cooking together. Since then, they were always found in one corner of the kitchen, Jeongguk softly instructing him while Jimin slowly put together a meal. Jeongguk had gotten used to scrubbing flour and sauces out of his shirts and jeans because he was always lending his apron to Jimin. He was disappointed when Jimin showed up one night with an apron of his own, an early Christmas gift from his brother. But in the presence of Jimin, he couldn’t stay disappointed for long.

It filled him with so much peace and warmth; cooking with Jimin. He was calm and relaxed in a way that he had never been before. He loved the feeling, and loved that Jimin brought that out in him.

He never wanted it to end.

“You want to make beignets?”

“Yep.” Jimin chirped, trying to tie his apron strings. Jeongguk watched the struggle with amusement. “I was watching The Princess and the Frog the other day with Jiyun—you know how she’s trying to watch as many Disney movies as possible—and she said that she wanted to try some. So, I figured with your help I could do that for her.”

Jimin had offered to watch his brother's daughter for a week while he and his wife took a well needed vacation. He had brought her around the restaurant yesterday morning, and Jeongguk had been smitten with the little dark haired six year old who had run into his legs when she darted into the kitchen the moment Jimin turned his back. Unfortunately she wasn’t smitten with him, ignoring him in favor of Yoongi, but Jeongguk’s heart still melted every time she peered up at him with Jihyun’s eyes. The same eyes that Jihyun shared with Jimin.

Jeongguk had never thought about having kids before. But the moment he had seen those eyes he knew that he wanted kids of his own. And then when Jimin scooped her up and peppered kisses all over her face, Jeongguk knew he wanted kids with Jimin. A bold thought for someone who never planned on confessing, but he couldn’t help it.

Seeing as Jimin was still struggling with his apron, Jeongguk stepped up to help him, sliding the strings out of Jimin’s fingers.

“You do know that beignets originated in France and not New Orleans, right?” He questioned.

“I didn’t, but now I know—you can tie it a bit tighter than that.” 

“If you insist.”

Jeongguk playfully yanked the strings too hard, making Jimin yelp when they squeezed around his middle. He glared over his shoulder, making Jeongguk laugh.

“So why is it important that I knew it originated in France?” Jimin asked once Jeongguk had finished tying the apron.

“Because if we’re going to make beignets, we’re going to make them right.” Jimin tilted his head, and Jeongguk launched into his explanation. “A lot of people use yeast dough because it’s easier, but I think it’s a crime. We’re going to make them from pâte à choux. It’ll take longer but I–” he stopped, noticing the wide eyed stare Jimin was giving him. “What?”

“You uh-” he cleared his throat, a delicate flush over his cheeks. Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrowed in worry; the kitchen was a little hot today, was he overheating? “You said that so fluently.”

“Huh?”

“The pâte a shoo thing.”

“Pâte à choux.” Jeongguk corrected slowly. He eyed the deepening flush with wonder. “You do remember that I worked and studied in France for years, right?”

“I know!” Jimin exclaimed. “I just… for some reason I didn’t make the connection in my head that you could speak French.”

“Probably not as well as I used to, but yes, I’m quite fluent.” A smile started to grow on his face and an idea blossomed in his mind. He turned away from Jimin, hiding his evil grin. “Should we get started?”

Jeongguk had Jimin sift the flour while he pulled out the rest of the ingredients, carefully measuring it out. Pâte à choux was a little tricky, so he had to be more focused than usual. But he didn’t mind breaking his focus to mess with Jimin a little.

“Jimin-hyung,” He heard Jimin’s distracted hum and smiled down at where he was setting the butter in the sauce pan. “Peux-tu m'apporter quatre œufs?”

There was a split moment of silence before he heard something clatter. Jeongguk bit down on his tongue, shoulders shaking slightly as he tried not to laugh. When he felt composed, he looked over his shoulder. Jimin was staring at him, gaping. He had dropped the sieve, spilling flour over the counter. At Jeongguk’s gaze, Jimin blushed.

“Sorry. I- what did you ask?”

“Could you get me four eggs.” He answered innocently, despite knowing that Jimin could tell that he was messing with him.

“Yeah, I can- yeah.” He fumbled for a second, nearly tripping over his feet on his way to the fridge. When Jimin returned with the eggs, setting them on the counter, Jeongguk winked.

“Merci, ma belle.”

Still a lovely pink, Jimin muttered. “I understand that, at least.” He didn’t make any further comment, even though Jeongguk had called him beautiful.

Jeongguk slipped in a little more French as they continued making the pâte à choux. Asking him to “ajouter de la farine” and “ajouter un oeuf”. Jimin asked him to repeat what he said both times, his pout deepening. But he stayed pink, making Jeongguk want to poke his cheeks.

Jimin finally got fed up with him after they finished mixing the eggs.

“Alright. Now we’re going to put this in the fridge for about an hour. Peux-tu me le ranger, chérie?” 

Jimin threw up his hands, flicking a bit of dough at Jeongguk. “That’s it!” He cried. “You’ve teased me enough!”

“Teased you?” Jeongguk blinked at him, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “I don’t know what you mean, ma belle.”

“You know exactly what I mean, Jeongguk.” Jimin growled, satoori slipping into his voice. “So unless you want me to hit you, shelf the French for a bit and stick to Korean.” He grabbed the bowl in a huff, stalking away and muttering. “You’re driving me mad, stupid sexy French.”

“Oh, so it’s sexy?”

Jimin shot him a glare as he shoved the bowl into the refrigerator.

“Purely the language. Not you.”

“Ouch.” Jeongguk winced. “Come on, I know I’m not an actor or an idol, but I’m attractive. Can’t I get a compliment?”

“Geez, what happened tonight?” Jimin muttered.

“Hmm?”

“Did you eat something weird? Did Yoongi-hyung compliment you? Ah, maybe you’ve been drinking?”

“Jimin, what are you talking about?” He laughed.

Jimin stepped back over to him. “You’re being really bold tonight. You’re usually… shy.” He tugged at Jeongguk’s apron, glaring. “Give me shy Jeonggukie back. I don’t like this bold one. He’s annoying.”

Jeongguk gasped, clutching at his chest. “You break my heart, chérie!” 

Jimin’s glare sharpened. “Jeongguk, this is my last warning.”

Jeongguk smirked. He was taller than Jimin, and had a bit more muscle mass. His threats of hitting him didn’t scare him.

“Tu ne me fais pas peur, ma chérie.”

As it turned out, Jeongguk had a lot to fear. Jimin hit hard.

“Jeongguk, there’s someone in the dining room that is asking for you.”

He looked up at Taehyun, eyebrows furrowing at the announcement. He glanced down at his sugar covered hands before looking back up at him helplessly.

“Uhm.” He stammered. “Who…?”

Taehyun shook his head, shuffling his feet. “They didn’t say, but they asked for you after they had been served their dessert…”

What was even their policy on things like this? At Pierree Ganaire his boss had sometimes asked him to come out so that he could shake hands with influential people. But that was when he was in charge of the kitchen. If someone wanted to meet anyone, it should have been Yoongi. Why were they asking for him?

Jeongguk glanced around at the busy kitchen, torn on what to do. “I can’t exactly leave right now. I-”

“Taehyun! Don’t you have things to do?” Yoongi asked as he set down two plates on the service table. Taehyun paled.

“Yoongi-hyung, he says that someone is asking for me?” Jeongguk piped up as Taehyun scuttled away. “Do I need to go out, or-”

“Right now?” Yoongi asked incredulously, his eyes sweeping over the room. He seemed to come to the same conclusion that Jeongguk did; they were busy enough that he was needed. But to Jeongguk’s surprise, he just groaned before reaching over to shove a towel at Jeongguk. “Wipe your hands. We always answer when the customer calls, and they don’t call often, so this is probably important.”

“Yeah, but why me?” He stressed. “Shouldn’t they be asking for you or Sejin-hyung? Since it was apparently when the dessert was served that they asked for me.”

“Hell if I know.” Yoongi muttered. “Be as fast as you can, alright?” He shoved Jeongguk towards the door before turning to tell Sejin the unfortunate news.

Jeongguk quickly wiped his hands, picking granules of sugar out of his nails as he hurried out of the kitchen. It was strange, stepping into the dinning room when there were customers. The noises and even the smell was so different from the kitchen. He felt very out of place, standing there in uniform. That awkward feeling increased when he realized he didn’t know what table to go to.

It was just his luck that Jimin was passing by at that very moment, carrying a bottle of wine.

“Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk called, hurrying over. Jimin’s eyes flicked to him, instantly widening. He froze in his tracks, one foot hovering slightly over the floor.

“Jeongguk? What are you doing out here?” He asked, leaning in close. He was whispering, which he thought was strange until Jeongguk noticed the curious eyes on him. Some of the guests were watching them. It unsettled him further.

“I- someone asked for me?” He explained nervously, wringing the towel in his hands. He had meant to leave it in the kitchen. “Yoongi-hyung told me to come out, but I don’t know the table.”

“Oh,” Jimin breathed. His eyes swept the area, as if he could tell who it was just by laying eyes on them. “Who was it that told you?”

“Taehyun. Yoongi-hyung chased him out before I could ask-”

Jimin wrapped his hand around Jeongguk’s wrist, gently pulling him. Jeongguk didn’t resist, letting Jimin pull him out of the middle of the dining hall. They passed Yeri on the way, and Jimin handed her the bottle of wine with the instruction of which table to take it to as well as telling her to get Taehyun. He didn’t let go of Jeongguk’s wrist, his rings cool against Jeongguk’s warm skin.

Once they were close to the wall and a little more out of eyesight, Jimin turned on him.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t need to give you tips on how to talk to customers, do I?” He asked in a rush. He reached out, tugging at his chef’s jacket and running his hands over it to smooth it out. Jeongguk tried not to flush at the touch.

“No. I don’t think so. I’m just confused? The sous chef doesn’t get called out of the kitchen. It’s either the head chef or whoever is in charge.”

Jimin’s hands stilled from where he had been sweeping something off of Jeongguk’s shoulders. His eyes grew hard.

“If they’re making an offer for you to come work for them, you come straight to me, okay?”

“Jimin-”

“I mean it.” He said sternly. “I’ve already had one person try to steal Yoongi-hyung from under my nose. I’m definitely not going to let them take my dessert chef. I forbid it.”

“Okay,” Jeongguk swallowed. The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver up his spine.

Jimin’s expression softened. He was wearing his glasses tonight, making him look even softer.

“You have flour and sugar all over you. I can’t let you go out like this.” He chided gently, reaching up to swipe his thumb over Jeongguk’s nose. It trailed over his cheek before dipping down his jaw. Jeongguk held his breath, his senses highly focused on Jimin’s narrowed eyes and the feeling of his thumb stroking against his skin. His hand twitched with the need to rise and cover Jimin’s hand with his own. He wondered if Jimin could feel how thick the tension was.

“There,” he hummed, smiling and looking up. “That’s a little better, isn’t… it…”

Jimin’s words trailed off. His hand hovered over his cheek, close enough for Jeongguk to feel the warmth, but not enough to actually feel. He stilled, eyes slowly searching Jeongguk’s face.

“Jimin-nim, you asked for me?”

The tension snapped.

Jimin’s hand dropped, even sliding out of sight into his pocket.

Jeongguk could breathe again.

“Yes!” Jimin exclaimed, smiling at Taehyun. “Could you take Jeongguk to the customer that asked for him?”

“O-oh yeah! Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“That’s alright.” He turned back to Jeongguk, smiling, but it was weird. “They’ve been waiting long enough, and I’m sure Yoongi-hyung needs you back in the kitchen. Make it quick.”

“Of course.” Jeongguk’s voice sounded weird to his own ears. He was speaking, but he couldn’t really hear himself. Probably because his heart was pounding so loud.

He stepped away, following Taehyun mindlessly. The look in Jimin’s eyes had made him nervous. He had seen something on Jeongguk’s face, something that made him come to some sort of a conclusion. In the past when he had been interested in people others had told him that it was clear on his face. Had Jimin seen the interest? No, that was a stupid question. Jeongguk had flirted with him enough for Jimin to know that there was at least something there.

Maybe Jimin had realized that it wasn’t just a surface interest. That it was deeper.

His stomach twisted.

He did not need to be thinking about this right now. Especially when he was going to talk to-

Sitting at a small square table by the windows was someone very familiar. And it was the person Taehyun pointed to before slipping away.

“Jin-hyung?”

At the call of his name, the man turned, lips quirked up into a handsome smirk. He didn’t look quite different when Jeongguk had video called him briefly a couple of months ago, aside from his longer hair. He still was ridiculously handsome, and even though he was old, he was aging like a fine wine. Seeing him again, so unexpectedly, thrilled him.

“Hey, Jeonggukie.” He greeted him with a waggle of crooked fingers.

All of the nervousness and tension drained out of Jeongguk’s body and he let out a short laugh.

“You ass,” he chuckled, stepping up to him. Seokjin stood from his seat, meeting him halfway in a hug. “Do you know how nervous you made me?”

“Me? Making you nervous? Never!” He drew back, grinning widely. His clothes were stylish, perfect for the cold weather. He filled out the white sweater nicely, and once again, Jeongguk was jealous of his heavenly genetics.

“How are you? I thought you were in Germany.”

“Eh.” Seokjin shrugged. “I missed my roots. I’ve been doing well, and apparently so have you.” He gestured to the table, where an empty plate rested. “I could tell you were the one who made it; your skills have improved.”

Jeongguk’s chest swelled at the praise, but he remembered to be humble. “Still not as good as you.”

“Oh please,” he rolled his eyes, grinning. “You couldn’t catch up to me even if I died right now.”

Jeongguk smirked. “Well, judging by how old you’re getting, that's not too far off.”

“Brat.” He hissed, but reached up to fondly ruffle his hair.

“How long are you here for?” Jeongguk asked the inevitable question. It wasn’t often that he saw Seokjin, and he usually didn’t stick around for long. He was always flitting from one place to the next, seemingly never satisfied with one place. There was always something new to experience, another branch of cooking he could explore.

“Already tired of me, huh?”

Jeongguk laughed. “No, hyung. I want to know how much time I have with you.”

“Well,” Seokjin smiled secretly. “I’m actually here for a while.” Jeongguk opened his mouth to ask, but his friend cut him off. “We can discuss that later though. When do you get off work?”

There was a cough behind them, and Jeongguk turned to find Jimin approaching them. He was wearing his service smile, but his eyes held a glimmer of distaste that made Jeongguk confused.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation sir,” he smiled up at Seokjin, who blinked down at him in curiosity. “But we are fairly busy. I’m afraid that Jeongguk is needed back in the kitchen.”

“Ah, already?” Jeongguk winced. “Is Yoongi-hyung yelling?”

“Yoongi? Like, Min Yoongi?”

“Oh yeah! Didn’t you train with him, Jin-hyung?”

“Jin-hyung?” Jimin questioned. He glanced between them, as if trying to make the connection. Jeongguk grinned.

“Jimin-hyung, this is Kim Seokjin. Jin-hyung, this is my boss, Park Jimin.”

“Oh!” Jimin’s eyes lit up with recognition, and he ducked his head. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, Seokjin-shi. Thank you for taking care of my Jeonggukie and teaching him. We’re really lucky to have him.”

“My?” Seokjin murmured, giving Jeongguk a side glance. He flushed, not having expected it either. Jimin was in a similar state, his cheek’s starting to turn pink.

“Ah, that- that’s-” he ran a hand through his hair, laughing. It had a nervous edge to it. “Since he’s under my care, you know.”

Disappointment swept through Jeongguk before he remembered how stupid it was to feel like that.

“I see.” Seokjin’s tone was light, but the look in his eyes, the one he was pinning Jeongguk with, was not. He shook his head slightly, the look clearing away. “Well, I suppose I’ll let you get back to work. I just wanted to surprise you. Give Yoongi-chi a kiss for me?”

Jeongguk’s nose scrunched. “Ew. No. I’m pretty sure he’d stab me with a knife if I even tried.”

“Hmm. Yes, I do remember Yoongi having an obsession with knives.”

“He has racks of them in the kitchen. Racks. It’s a little terrifying.” He sighed, before smiling shyly. “I will tell him that you said hello, though.”

“Aigoo, when did you get so cute?” Seokjin gushed, fully genuine. It made Jeongguk blush, looking down but peeking up at him through his eyelashes. Sometimes he felt like Seokjin was more of his older brother than his actual brother. He appreciated him more than he could ever express. “It was good to see you, Jeongguk-ah.”

“It was good to see you too, hyung. Are we getting drinks later? Ah, if it’s not too late for you; I get off at ten. Maybe earlier if Yoongi-hyung lets me.”

“I’ll get him to release you early.” Jimin piped up, returning Jeongguk’s thankful smile. “Are you ready for your bill, Seokjin-shi?”

“Yes, I think I am. And you can call me Jin-hyung, Jimin.” His eyes sparkled. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other often.”

Jimin tilted his head in curiosity, but nodded. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

Jeongguk took it as his exit as well, quickly hugging his friend. “Bye, Jin-hyung.”

“See you later, Gukkie.” Jeongguk started to pull away, but Seokjin’s grip tightened. He leaned in, whispering into his ear. “We have a lot to talk about, especially about what’s going on between you and your employer.”

Jeongguk swallowed. Of course Seokjin had noticed.

“Okay.”

“Yoongi-hyung, Jin-hyung says hello.”

“Hmm? Okay.”

A beat of silence.

“Did you say Jin-hyung ?! That little-”

“I’m moving back to Seoul to work.”

Jeongguk choked on his soju, coughing violently. Seokjin sat across from him, not even phased as he studied his nails.

“You’re what?” Jeongguk croaked after he had recovered. His throat still burned, so he took a swig of water. “You’re moving here? To work where?”

“Yes, that’s what I said. And at Reflection. Owned by Kim Namjoon. He has a very successful branch in the U.S, and he decided to open up here as well. I had been working at the U.S branch and he asked me to come with him here.” Seokjin shrugged. “I accepted.”

“You-” Jeongguk fumbled for words. “I thought you had been in Germany. But you were in the U.S?”

Seokjin hummed. “Well, I was in Germany, but it didn’t really work out for me.”

Jeongguk sat back in his seat, thinking. “How long have you been at Reflection?”

Seokjin’s lips pursed. He ran a finger over the top of his glass. 

“Almost a year.”

Jeongguk choked again.

Seokjin never stayed anywhere longer than four months.

He was always moving from one place to the next, never being satisfied enough to stick around. It had been hard for him when he was training Jeongguk, because he couldn’t exactly get both of them jobs at whatever restaurant he floated to next. They would take him, but since Jeongguk was so young and inexperienced he would be turned away. It was during that time that Seokjin did more of his food critic work, since he couldn’t bear to be in the same kitchen for months on end. It had been strange for Jeongguk to watch. What kind of chef began to hate a kitchen?

That’s why it was so surprising to hear that he had stuck around for so long.

“A-a year? Hyung! A year ago you were in Russia! That’s what you told me.”

“I was in Russia. And then I went to New York. I met Namjoon and, well.” He sighed, lifting his glass to his lips. “I saw an opportunity.”

“Then why did you go to Germany if you were just going to go back?”

The ice in his glass clinked.

“I- Jeongguk, you know how hard it is for me to stay in one place.” He murmured. He suddenly looked exhausted. It made Jeongguk’s heart heavy. “I’m always searching for something, thinking that there is more out there and I’m missing it the longer I stay. But when I started working for Namjoon…” He shook his head. “Jeongguk, I was there for seven months before I even knew it. And I only became aware when I was on my way to work and saw a stupid news article headline. ‘New York restaurant manages to tie down World Class Chef Kim Seokjin’” He chuckled humorlessly. “I realized that I was content. At peace and satisfied where I was at. It was a feeling that I hadn’t experienced in a long time, so, naturally, I got scared.”

“Hyung.” Jeongguk murmured.

“I didn’t even give Namjoon two weeks. Just quit on the spot and booked the first plane ticket to Germany. I was in Berlin for two days—you called me on my second day—and I applied for a job there.”

“What made you come back?”

Something strange happened.

A very dopey, lovesick smile slipped over his lips. Jeongguk stared in wonder.

“Namjoon followed me, managed to track me down, and asked me to come back. So I did.”

Oh. Oh.

“You’re dating your boss.” Jeongguk breathed. Seokjin nodded, the warmth not fading from his eyes.

“That ‘something’ that I was looking for? Well, it was a person. Someone who I wanted to stay for. I was content and happy because he was there.”

“Doesn’t it… isn’t it a conflict of interests?”

“That was something we worried about.” Seokjin rubbed his thumb over the condensation on the table, collecting the droplets on his skin. “It’s difficult to keep your private affairs out of your professional ones. And we certainly had a few stumbles, but four months later and we’re still together and his business is doing better than ever. It’s a little immoral, but…” He shrugged. “It makes things a little more exciting. And hey, we’re already being immoral by being gay, so double the excitement.”

Jeongguk couldn’t help but laugh. Somehow, hearing about this made his heart lighter. Made him feel less… guilty. For having feelings for his own boss.

“What is he like?”

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah.”

Serenity filled his expression. “Namjoon is… beautiful. He’s this tall monstrosity that seems to be still stuck in the awkward phase where he’s not aware of how long his legs and arms are.” Seokjin shook his head, laughing. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to chase him out of the kitchen before he broke another set of plates. Or the oven. Or the stove. He bent a knife once; in our kitchen he’s nicknamed the God of Destruction

“He is a little goofy, but so intelligent. Like, genius levels. I don’t know why he’s running a restaurant instead of curing cancer somewhere. I hardly know what he’s talking about sometimes. But it’s cute how excited he gets when he gets wrapped up in a topic. And he…” Seokjin’s whole body softened, melting a little. “He listens. Genuinely listens. Of course he makes all the hums and haws that people do when they try to make it seem like they’re listening, but you know he’s really listening by the way that he looks at you.

“He’s just… wonderful, Jeongguk-ah. He treats me really well.”

“You look really happy.” He whispered, taking in Seokjin’s relaxed expression. There was a light in his eyes that Jeongguk had never seen before.

“I am.”

“Can I meet him?”

“Of course. He’s in New York right now, settling things with the new manager, but he’ll be here in about a month or so. He actually has been wanting to meet and talk with you for ages.” Seokjin grinned slyly. “And not just because you’re my friend.”

Jeongguk was instantly clued in and shook his head. “Nu uh. I’m staying right where I am. Besides, Jimin-hyung already banned me from leaving.”

“Did he now?”

Jeongguk nodded, realizing with a sinking feeling that he had just given Seokjin the perfect opportunity. But he wasn’t nervous anymore, knowing that Seokjin wouldn’t judge him when he was in the same boat. Well, not in the same boat. Seokjin’s boat was already on the seas while Jeongguk’s hadn’t left the harbor.

“He thought I was flirting with you earlier.” Seokjin hummed, reaching for the soju bottle. He waved off Jeongguk’s attempts to pour the glass for him. “When I asked when you got off work.”

“He did?”

“Hmm. He was hovering too. Ever since he saw me ruffle your hair. I thought he was going to drag you away.”

Jeongguk blushed. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Oh, no I’m not.” Seokjin chuckled. “I could see it in his eyes that he was already thinking of places to hide my body. He likes you, Jeongguk. And I know for a fact that you’re absolutely smitten.”

He groaned, burying his burning face in his hands. “I know I am! I really tried not to fall for him, honestly I didn’t think I would. But Jimin is just… he’s amazing. In everything he does. He’s so kind, and his smile literally lights up the whole room. And I- ugh- I didn’t know I had a thing for glasses.”

Seokjin nodded. “Oh, I get that.”

“Namjoon wears glasses?”

“Sexiest part about him.” Seokjin winked and Jeongguk’s face screwed up.

“Gross.”

“So, why aren’t you two together yet?” He steered the conversation back to the topic.

“Because- because he’s my boss.” Jeongguk sighed, picking at the label on the soju bottle.

“I understand that it can cause you to have reservations, but Jeongguk…” he murmured softly. “The way you look at him is how I look at Namjoon. I can recognize it.”

Jeongguk wasn’t sure he liked his obviousness being called out. “Okay, let’s set that aside and focus on the fact that he isn’t interested.”

“Jeongguk-ah, I just told you that he liked you.”

“But he doesn't!” Jeongguk whined. “I’ve flirted with him far too much for him to not realize that I was interested. We’ve even had a few… moments.” He muttered, thinking of the first night they cooked together. It was followed by what happened earlier that day. He shook the memories away. “I’ve even brought out the French, hyung. Calling him ma belle, and ma chérie, and he got a little flustered but then nothing. If he was really interested, wouldn’t he have done something by now?”

“Maybe he has the same reservations you do, about the nature of your relationship. He might be unsure of whether it would be wise to mix business with pleasure.”

“Don’t say it like that.” Jeongguk muttered, nose scrunching. His voice lowered, as well as his heart. “Hyung, I’m not sure I should ever confess. I just don’t see it ending well.”

Even without looking at him, Jeongguk could feel Seokjin’s eyes searching his face. He resolutely didn’t make eye contact, not wanting his hyung to see his sadness, his heart bleeding and cracking. He was pretty sure he saw it all anyway.

“Okay,” Seokjin finally murmured. “If that’s what you think is best.” He reached across the table to cover one of his hands with his own. Jeongguk finally looked up at him, blinking away the tears he didn’t know had formed. “I just want you to be happy, Jeongguk-ah. Please don’t stay there if being around him starts to hurt you, alright?”

“Okay.” Jeongguk whispered. Seokjin squeezed his hand before pulling away.

Jeongguk was really lucky, having a hyung like Kim Seokjin.

Christmas came crashing down before they even opened the restaurant.

“Soohyun and Sejin got into an accident on the way here.”

Jeongguk gasped. The two of them usually carpooled because they lived close together, and it had snowed almost twelve inches last night. He had trouble getting to work himself because not all the roads hadn’t been plowed and there had been a lot of ice. “Oh no! What happened? Are they okay?”

“They’re fine, but Soohyun broke her leg and Sejin has a concussion. They both won’t be able to come in today.” Yoongi sighed, rubbing his eyes. His hair was already pulled back; not a good sign. “Heeseung is stuck in traffic, heaven knows when he’ll get here and we had two people unexpectedly quit on us.”

“What? Who?”

“Irene and Oscar.” They were some of the extra help they had hired for the holidays, and both people who usually helped in the kitchen. Jeongguk mentally counted how many people they would have. His stomach sank. They were really going to be stretched thin. Normally that might be okay, but it was Christmas. The restaurant was booked full, with the intention to turn the tables three times just at dinner.

They could ask Jimin if he could spare some people up front, but they'd probably be more of a hindrance than a help. Maybe if it was just their normal menu they could pull through, but they had a special Christmas menu as well, which were dishes that they didn’t usually serve. No one would know how to put them together.

“We’re going to have to focus mostly on the appetizers and the main course,” Yoongi murmured, giving Jeongguk a worried look. “You’re probably only going to have one other person helping you with desserts. Can you handle it?”

Jeongguk swallowed. “I’m going to have to.”

Jeongguk most certainly couldn’t handle it.

Lunch had been exhausting. He hadn’t had a chance to even pause. Yoongi had tried moving one person from appetizers when Heeseung arrived, but it didn’t work. It became very clear that everyone had to stay put, because if they were going to have a weak link in the kitchen tonight, it would have to be desserts. Most people were more forgiving if their dessert took some time to get to their table.

Jeongguk and Yeonjun, who was helping him with desserts, got a short break when the lunch crowd started filtering out. Normally Yoongi would make them prepare for dinner, but he made both of them sit down.

“Are you ready for war?” Yeonjun muttered. Jeongguk sighed.

“No, but what else are we supposed to do? Besides, it can’t get any worse than this, right?”

Jeongguk should have kept his stupid mouth shut.

It was chaos when dinner started. They had forty orders by the first thirty minutes. Jeongguk could only imagine how terrible it was for everyone else. He was barely keeping up, the dishes only taking five minutes longer than they usually would to hit the tables. Even though the night had just started, he thought that maybe, maybe, they would survive.

And then Nathan sliced his hand open.

“Fuck!” The curse rang out loud in the already noisy kitchen. It yanked Jeongguk’s attention away from his task. His stomach lurched at the glimpse he had gotten of Nathan's hand before he covered it with a towel. The cut was all the way across his palm, red, bloody, and deep.

Yoongi grabbed him, setting him aside and ordering him to get it cleaned and wrapped. He could come back if the bleeding stopped, and if it didn’t, he was dismissed for the night to go to the hospital.

Jeongguk bit his lip, his mind racing. Even if Nathan could come back they would get behind, and he would work slower due to his injury.

He came to a clear decision.

“Yeonjun, go help them.”

The young chef shot him an incredulous look. “What, are you crazy?”

“They can’t afford to get behind! I’ll be fine, get over there.”

“But-”

“Yeonjun, I’m not asking.”

He hesitated for only a second longer before cursing under his breath. He finished up the plate he had been working on and then jolted to the other side of the kitchen.

Jeongguk took a deep breath.

I can do this.

He was behind.

So, so, far behind.

He had a wave of tickets before him, and his eyes couldn’t focus on them to really read them. He didn’t need to. He knew exactly how many orders he had. He just didn’t have enough hands, unable to do twenty things at once. The time between when he got the order and when he sent it out was steadily increasing, and would soon be too long for it to be worth the wait.

Jeongguk swept his arm over his forehead, wiping away the sweat that had gathered there. Nathan had to go to the hospital because the blood flow hadn’t stopped. That meant that Yeonjun had to stay where he was.

He just needed one person. One person to help him, but there was no one to spare. Yoongi had sent him worried and apologetic glances, and Jeongguk knew that he wanted to send someone over to him, or even come himself, but they were just as busy as Jeongguk was, even a little bit more. But Jeongguk couldn’t help but think, over and over as he struggled to tame the wave of tickets, that he just needed one person who had even a general knowledge of how to piece together the menu they had out tonight. Just one-

Jeongguk froze.

Jimin.

“Chulsoo!” He yelled, catching her before she left the kitchen. She looked back at him, stress lining her face.

“What!?”

“I need Jimin.”

“He’s busy-”

“I don’t care!” Jeongguk snapped. “Get him in here.”

Chulsoo didn’t argue, slipping out of the room. Jeongguk allowed himself to be buried under the mass of desserts, his skin itching. He was horribly aware of how much time was passing, and soon he would be out of it.

Thankfully, Jimin flew into the kitchen when Jeongguk thought he was going to break.

“Jeongguk,” he breathed. He had started out the night with his glasses, but now they were gone, probably replaced by contacts. “What do you need? And make it quick because I have to get back out there-”

“I need you.” Jeongguk said, desperation filling his voice.

Jimin gaped at him, his eyes flashing with something Jeongguk couldn’t decipher at the moment before he blinked it away.

“You need me?” He asked, voice small.

“I’m behind Jimin. So far behind.” His voice was weak. “I need help.”

He watched the words sink in, panic filling Jimin’s face.

“You- you need me to cook? Jeongguk, I can’t-”

“Yes you can. I’ve been working with you for who knows how long now. You have a general knowledge of how to actually make these dishes-”

“Isn’t there anyone else who can-”

“Jimin.”

He knew his voice was dripping with desperation, a pleading and begging cry that he never used. But he needed help. He was two orders from crashing, breaking down. Hell, he was close to tears, the stress of what lay before him eating him alive.

“Please,” he begged. “I need help. I need you.”

Jimin’s eyes searched his face.

“Okay,” he finally whispered. The word lost to the noise of the kitchen. “Give me five minutes, Jeongguk.”

All he could do was nod. He could handle five more minutes.

Jimin ran back out of the kitchen, and before the doors closed he could see him catching Yeri’s arm. Jeongguk lowered his eyes and focused.

He counted the time down in his head, becoming a little panicked when five minutes slipped by with no sign of Jimin. His fingers had started shaking, and he had to keep blinking sweat from his eyes, not even able to spare a second to wipe it away. He was drowning, not having the energy to keep his head above the water anymore.

Jeongguk reached for a bottle of chocolate sauce, knocking into it clumsily. It slid off of the counter and he watched it hit the ground.

He didn’t even have the energy to pick it up.

But he didn’t have to.

Small fingers, usually adorned with at least one silver ring but bare at the moment, wrapped around the bottle and lifted it, outstretching it towards him.

Jimin, with an apron tied over his waist and his sleeves rolled up.

“What do you need me to do, Jeongguk-ah?”

They caught up.

Jimin worked with a speed and efficiency that some chefs that had been working for years lacked. He had his stumbles, forgetting what to do next or missing a minor detail, but they were easily fixed and smoothed over. Jeongguk couldn’t help but beam with pride, noticing how comfortable his movements were compared to when they had first started cooking together. He also couldn’t help but notice how well they worked together, dancing around the space without getting in each other’s way. They would hand each other bowls of sugar, bottles of sauces, and plates without asking, acutely aware of each other’s needs.

Before Jeongguk even realized, the tickets disappeared, the line of yellow dwindling until there were only ten. Fresh ones.

He could breathe again.

And when Jimin reached across him to grab the shaker of powdered sugar, Jeongguk glanced down at him and just… looked.

At the concentration in his eyes, the muss of his hair, and the curve of his lips. He had undone two buttons on his shirt, the kitchen heat getting to him. There was a splotch of chocolate on his apron, flour dusted across his cheek, and sugar on his hands.

He looked beautiful.

Achingly so.

“Are you okay?”

Jeongguk watched in amusement as Jimin didn’t even lift his head to reply. He just grunted from where he was slumped over the counter.

When the last ticket had gone out, Jimin pulled up a stool and sat. He removed his apron, undid another button on his shirt, and leaned back, watching everyone else clean up. No one dared ask him to help. Yeri tried coming into the kitchen to ask him about something or another, but Yoongi went in his stead, promising to shut down the register for him as well. Jimin didn’t say anything, just nodded and closed his eyes. It was no secret that he was exhausted. Jeongguk knew that working in a kitchen like this was draining, and for someone who wasn’t used to it, they would probably want to sleep for years afterwards.

The kitchen was empty, no one wanting to stick around after the chaotic night. Yoongi had even let them skimp on the cleaning, but they all had to promise to come in early tomorrow to finish up. Jeongguk had stuck around because Jimin was still there, and he knew he needed to thank him for stepping in when asked.

Jeongguk joined him at the counter, setting down the bottle of wine he had stolen from the cellar. Two glasses followed, clinking delicately against the stainless steel. Jimin didn’t move until Jeongguk removed the cork and started pouring.

“What’s this?” he murmured, head still pillowed on his arms. He had tilted his head to watch him, curious eyes following the movement of the red liquid.

“Wine.” Jeongguk answered, snickering when Jimin rolled his eyes. He sat up halfway, leaning on his elbow. “It’s in celebration of your first night in the kitchen. Officially, that is.”

Jimin hummed, taking the offered glass without complaint. “Is it always this exhausting? Because if so, I need to give you all a raise.”

“Yes and no.” Jeongguk laughed, pulling up another stool. He set it close to Jimin, closer than he normally would. “For a night like tonight, yes, it’s exhausting. We were stretched really thin, as I’m sure you know. But usually it’s not this bad, especially when you’re used to it.”

Jimin groaned, stretching out. His foot tapped against Jeongguk’s leg. “I feel like my whole body has been wringed out like a rag. My brain is completely fried. Can I take tomorrow off?”

“You’re the boss. You can do whatever you want.”

Jimin snorted, bringing his glass to his lips. Comfortable silence stretched between them as they both wound down from the crazy night. Once again Jeongguk found himself staring, completely entranced by the man sitting before him. Jimin was breathtaking, no matter what he was doing. He looked pretty like this, in the dim light, tuckered out yet relaxed, with his lips turning red from the wine.

“Thank you, for tonight.” Jeongguk whispered, his eyes lowered to his glass. He peeked up at him through his eyelashes, watching Jimin pause before setting his glass down.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.” He murmured. “I didn’t realize how overwhelmed you guys were,” He paused, voice dropping lower. “How overwhelmed you were.”

Jeongguk shook his head. “There wasn’t anything you could do. It was out of your hands.”

“Still…”

Jeongguk reached out, taking Jimin’s hand. He let his thumb stoke over his knuckles, the skin soft. Jimin stared at him, expression unreadable. Jeongguk swallowed.

“You did everything you could. I can’t tell you how much you really helped me.”

“You did look a little stressed.” Jimin murmured, lips quirking up. Jeongguk shook his head, not wanting him to downplay how awful the situation had actually been.

“Jimin, I was losing my mind.”  He rasped. “I thought I was going to completely have a meltdown. I-” he swallowed harshly, his throat tight with emotion. “I- sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Jimin soothed, squeezing his hand. “It’s been a long day.”

“You were a lifesaver, Jimin.”

Jimin’s eyes lowered, his teeth pulling at his lower lip as he blushed. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not.” Jeongguk stressed. He shifted to the edge of his chair, spreading his legs so that he wouldn’t knock into Jimin’s knees. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there.” Jeongguk admitted, his voice tiny. “You- I don’t know how to tell you how amazing you were.”

“Jeongguk…”

“I’m serious. Don’t disregard yourself.”

“I’m not.” Jimin retorted softly. “I just… I couldn’t have done what I did tonight if you hadn’t been there with me. It was a joint effort. So really, this is a celebration for both of us.” The words made Jeongguk smile, and Jimin mirrored him.

Then he was sighing, letting go of Jeongguk’s hand. “It’s a shame though, I’m so tired that I don’t even want to think about cooking but I also really want some sugar. And don’t even think about offering; I know you’re as exhausted as I am.”

“Actually,” Jeongguk murmured. “I kind of already made something.”

Jimin gasped. “You didn’t.”

“Not tonight, but…” he watched fondly as Jimin stood, having found some sort of energy. “It’s in the far right fridge.”

His strides were long, and in no time he was opening the door, peering eagerly in. He made a noise when he found it.

“Another posset?”

Jeongguk hummed. Jimin closed the fridge, holding two of the bowls in his hands. “Strawberry this time, because I know it’s your favorite.”

Jimin sighed happily, leaning over slightly to place one of them in front of Jeongguk. He hovered in his space, eyes glinting. “You treat me too well.”

It was an echo of words said before, but it still made Jeongguk’s heart pound. His tongue felt swollen and heavy, but he managed to say,

“Not as well as I could.”

Jimin stilled.

This tension was familiar, yet different. Jeongguk held his eye contact, watching the emotions flicker through his eyes. He hardly heard the clink of glass as Jimin set the other posset down, too distracted by Jimin stepping closer, slipping between his spread legs.

“And how could you treat me better?” Jimin murmured. His fingers skimmed across the top of Jeongguk’s thighs, the touch sending warmth shooting through him.

“I don’t know,” Jeongguk answered honestly. He had to tilt his head up to look at him properly, and the switch of height difference made his stomach flip, aided by their close proximity. They had been here before, not in this exact position or situation, but the feeling, the energy was similar. But there was a whisper of something else. “I just know that I can.”

The words hung in the air, adding to the already thick tension between them. Jimin leaned in closer. He wasn’t wearing any perfume or cologne tonight, but Jeongguk could catch hints of what must have been his shampoo or body wash.

“Is that a promise,” he whispered, a hint of a growl at the edge of his words. Jeongguk barely suppressed a shudder. “Or a threat?”

He didn’t know what was happening, and he didn't know if he wanted it to continue or stop. His grip on the stool was tight with an effort to stop himself from doing something stupid like yanking him down by the collar of his shirt and kissing him. Whatever was happening, or not happening, Jeongguk wanted Jimin to be the one to make the choice.

But it also wasn’t fair. Because Jimin’s fingers were still brushing over his legs in feather light touches, and it was affecting him far more than it should.

“Is there a difference?” Jeongguk finally rasped. A thrill of excitement skipped under his skin as Jimin’s eyes darkened slightly.

“No,” Jimin murmured. Their noses brushed. Jeongguk’s breath hitched. “There isn’t.”

Jeongguk gasped when Jimin tilted his head, pressing their mouths together. They had been so close, but he still hadn’t expected it.

And it was wonderful.

Jimin’s lips were warm and soft, the feeling making his whole body flood with heat. He was gentle, moving his mouth against Jeongguk’s in a way that made his toes curl. He could taste the wine, the fruity tones only serving to make the kiss sweeter. Jimin’s hands slid up his thighs, leaving a trail of warmth, before they disappeared. Jeongguk didn’t have time to wonder where they had gone before fingers slid under his jaw, cupping his face, and tilting his head up. Jeongguk melted into the touch, sighing.

When Jimin’s tongue swept along his bottom lip, he shuddered, a needy whine rising in the back of his throat. He hadn’t thought that the noise would make Jimin break away with a breathy, “Shit.”

Feeling breathless and dazed, Jeongguk’s eyes fluttered open, immediately locking with Jimin’s. The want there took any remaining breath that Jeongguk had, his heart stuck in his throat.

But want wasn’t the only emotion there.

Jeongguk watched helplessly as horror started to overtake his expression, washing away anything else that might have been there. Jimin’s hands dropped from his face, curling towards himself as if Jeongguk had slapped his hands away.

“I- I-”

Even before he spoke, Jeongguk knew he was going to run.

 He desperately didn’t want that to happen.

“Jimin-”

He took a step back, not looking Jeongguk in the eye. “I think-” His voice quavered. “I think I had too much wine. I’m sorry.”

The apology tore into his chest. Jeongguk could do nothing but watch as Jimin turned around and left, practically running from the room. 

He stared at the doors for a long time, fingers curled and throat tight, the tingling of his lips the only thing assuring him that this wasn’t just a nightmare he was having.

When it was clear to him that Jimin wasn’t coming back, he looked up at the lights and blinked away his tears, not wanting to cry over his broken heart. He grabbed the bottle of wine and filled his glass to the top, again, and again until there wasn’t a drop left.

The possets melted on the counter, abandoned and forgotten.

If Jeongguk could call off work, he would. But there was no possible way for that to happen, so he hauled himself out of bed and managed to catch the bus before it left him behind. He was nursing a hangover, and his eyes stung from crying the better part of the night. When he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bus window, he winced. His eyes were swollen and red. He hadn’t had the energy to properly get ready, so his hair was sticking up all over the place.

Jeongguk went through the motions of preparing for the lunch shift, not mentally ready for the business that was sure to come. It hurt to be in the kitchen, and he avoided the counter where everything had happened. He already wanted the day to be over so that he could go home and stare at the ceiling, counting every single mistake he’s ever made in his life. If Yoongi noticed anything wrong, he didn’t say a word. He was grateful for that. He wasn’t sure he could keep himself from crying if anyone mentioned how awful he looked. Thankfully there wasn’t anyone in this restaurant who would probably feel comfortable asking him what was wrong-

“Good morning everyone!”

Jeongguk looked up in a daze, not quite sure if he was hearing things correctly. Because that sounded like Seokjin, and he didn’t work here. But to the surprise of his tired eyes, his hyung walked confidently into the kitchen, smiling at everyone. Even Yoongi, who was scowling. He was speechless, barely able to form a thought. He didn’t even react when Seokjin caught his eye, grin widening.

“Hey, Jeongguk-ah! Are you surprised? Yoongi-chi asked me to help out for the holidays as a favor and-” He abruptly stopped speaking, eyes flickering up and down Jeongguk’s body. His voice went soft and concerned. “Jeongguk? Are you alright?”

And dammit, those were the words Jeongguk knew would make him cry.

He blinked furiously, trying to shove it all down, but to no avail. He finally gave up, letting the tears spill over as he raised a hand to hide himself best he could. He heard Seokjin make a wounded noise, and felt him wrap an arm around his shoulders.

“Yoongi-chi, I’m taking Jeongguk out into the hall.”

“Why- oh.” There was muted worry in the word. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Jeongguk allowed himself to be led out the side door, the lump in his throat growing. It was only when they were alone, away from prying eyes that he finally broke down completely.

“He kissed me.” Jeongguk sobbed, unable to hold back the words. Seokjin’s shocked gasp only made him feel worse. “He kissed me and then left and I don’t know what to do and hyung, everything just hurts. It hurts so bad.”

“Oh, Jeongguk.” He breathed, gathering him into his arms. Jeongguk curled up against him, burying his face into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I thought- I really thought that you two were-”

Jeongguk shook his head, not wanting Seokjin to say it. He seemed to understand, and just squeezed him tighter. It didn’t magically cure all of the painful emotions coursing through him, but it reassured him that at least someone loved him.

Jimin didn’t come into the kitchen once.

Seokjin asked where he was, glancing at Jeongguk as he did so. Soobin told him that Jimin had decided to be the host tonight.

It sent a whole new wave of hurt through him. Jimin was avoiding him. But what could Jeongguk do about it? He couldn’t march up to Jimin and demand that he at least show his face in the kitchen. That was dumb and stupid.

By the end of the night, Jeongguk was ready to go home and sleep. He was running on nothing, barely able to keep his eyes open. He felt lightheaded from the lack of energy and was thankful when he could finally clock out.

But Seokjin grabbed his shoulder before he could even step towards the doors.

“Jeongguk, you need to go talk to him.” Seokjin whispered. Jeongguk opened his mouth to argue, but Seokjin spoke over him. “I know you don’t want to. I know that you’re exhausted and hurt, but it’s only going to be worse if you don’t address it now. Because there are a lot of things hanging up in the air. He needs to explain why he walked away. You need clarity.”

Any argument Jeongguk was going to make cracked under those words. He swallowed harshly.

“Okay.”

When Jeongguk asked where Jimin was, he got pointed to the office. He had only been there once before, when Soohyun was finalizing his hiring paperwork.

As he walked down the hall, Jeongguk took deep breaths to keep himself calm. That didn’t stop his hands from shaking from where he hid them in his pockets Part of him tried to convince himself that this was too early, that he should give himself time to find a balm to the excruciating pain in his chest. But the other part, aided by Seokjin’s encouragement, knew that he couldn’t let this fester. Whether he was ready or not, whether Jimin was ready, they had to talk.

The office door was open and Jeongguk took one more steadying breath before peeking inside.

In the small room, it didn’t take him long at all to find Jimin. He was sitting at the desk, leaning back in his chair with his legs kicked up on the higher surface. The black reservation book sat on his lap but his eyes weren’t anywhere near it. They were on the ceiling, staring blankly while he twirled a pen between his fingers. A glass filled with amber liquid rested near his feet on the desk.

He didn’t… he didn’t look good.

It filled Jeongguk with a little bit of bitter vindictiveness, seeing that Jimin looked as much of a mess as he did. Maybe it was wrong of him, but heck, the man had put his heart through a blender whether he knew it or not. Jeongguk was allowed to be upset. 

There were the beginnings of shadows under Jimin’s eyes. He was far from put together, something Jeongguk had never seen before. Even though Serendipity had closed only an hour ago, he had already traded his usual formal dress for a hoodie; his comfort clothes. The sight of it calmed Jeongguk a little, replacing a bit of the vindictiveness with a reassurance that they were both struggling.

He knocked on the frame of the door, swallowing harshly as Jimin startled, pen flying out of his hands, and shoes scraping against the desk as he put his feet back on the ground.

“Sorry!” He ran a hand through his messy hair, a flimsy smile on his lips. “I was lost in thought, how can I-” 

He finally looked up, the rest of his words being sucked back in a harsh inhale. Jeongguk didn’t look him in the eyes, letting his gaze settle on the wall behind him.

“Jeongguk,” Jimin said softly, voice pained. Jeongguk’s own pain rose before being overtaken by his simmering anger. Why was Jimin acting hurt when he was the one who ran? “What can I… what can I do for you?”

“We need to talk.” He said shortly, pushing off from the door frame to enter the room. He took careful note of Jimin’s wince before he wiped it from his face. Jeongguk stopped by the edge of the desk, reaching down to tap his fingers against the glass. Brandy, by the looks of it. Jimin usually preferred soju or wines. “Have you had any of this?”

Jimin pursed his lips. “No.”

“Good.” Jeongguk huffed. He picked up the glass and set it out of both of their reach. “Now we can have this conversation without you blaming anything on drinking too much.”

And… Jeongguk knew that was mean. He did feel guilty when Jimin flinched, pain filling his eyes. But he also didn’t want to let go of the bitterness that was fueling him. If he let go of that, all he would feel is hurt again. He was a little tired of the feeling.

“Jeongguk,” Jimin rubbed at his temple. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You didn’t mean to what? Run?” He scoffed. “Kiss me? Apologize like it was a mistake?”

“I-”

“Because that’s what it was to you, wasn’t it?” He growled. “A mistake.”

“No!” The outburst made Jeongguk pause, mentally taking a step back to watch the conflicting emotions slide across his face. Jimin looked like he was going to cry, which instantly made Jeongguk’s anger evaporate. No matter how hurt he was, he never wanted to make Jimin cry.

“No.” Jimin repeated softer, but then he winced, eyes sliding shut. “Yes. I- I don’t know, Jeongguk.”

He buried his face in his hands, releasing a shuddering, shaky breath. Jeongguk closed his eyes, letting go of his bitterness and allowing the hurt to take its place at the top again. He swallowed the lump in his throat, nails pressing into the palms of his hands as he whispered,

“I like you, Jimin.”

 He was quiet.

“I know.”

“Do you… do you not feel the same?”

Jimin breathed out slowly, lowering his hands from his face.

“I like you too.” He murmured, so soft that Jeongguk almost couldn’t hear him.

The confession sent Jeongguk spiraling, happiness and confusion clashing. Of course, all of the signs had been there. Jeongguk had seen them and tried his best to ignore them, convincing himself that Jimin didn’t like him. It was his way of restraining himself. But then Jimin kissed him, and he thought that it meant he could finally acknowledge every flirtatious moment between them. And then he ran, forcing Jeongguk to rethink everything.

“Then why did you run?” He asked, his voice fragile. Jimin gave him a helpless look, the words ‘I don’t know’ clearly on the tip of his tongue, but Jeongguk didn’t want to hear those words again. “Jimin, you kissed me and then left. That hurt.” Tears pricked at his eyes. “It hurt a lot. Still does.”

Jimin made a small, wounded noise.

“So why did you leave if you felt the same?”

The question remained unanswered for a long moment. Jeongguk was as patient as he possibly could, watching Jimin try to start to explain only to shut down again multiple times. He thought, for one fleeting second, that Jimin was going to run again. To kick him out of the office or leave himself, leaving the question unanswered and the chasm between them gaping. But then Jimin wilted, curling into himself.

“Because staying would have been a bad idea.” He whispered, isolated. “You’re just like the desserts you make, Jeongguk. Tempting. And if you give into temptation once, it becomes harder to resist. If I had stayed, I probably would have told you exactly how you make me feel, and asked you out. And I’m only telling you this now because you deserve an explanation.”

Jeongguk swallowed. “Why aren’t you?”

“Aren’t what?”

“Asking me out. What is so bad about that?” What’s so bad about the idea of us?

“Because-because we’d probably end up dating. And even if it worked out for a little bit everything would eventually come crashing down.” He was hugging himself, rubbing one hand up his fabric covered arm.  Jeongguk wanted to pull him into his arms and that desire just made everything hurt more. “It’s unethical, Jeongguk.”

“Why do you think that?”

“You work for me Jeongguk.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. “And I know we’ve been pretty good at being friends and knowing the line between our business and personal relationship, but throwing romance into the mix? That makes everything harder. A lot harder.”

“We’ve managed so far.” Jeongguk offered weakly.

Jimin laughed, the sound amused yet tired. “We’re not dating, Jeongguk. Our little dance that we’ve been doing is nothing compared to an actual relationship; you should know that.”

Jeongguk looked away, feeling the heat start to build in his cheeks. He wouldn’t know, actually.

Jimin read into his silence, eyes slightly widening.

“Jeongguk, you’ve never dated anyone?” Jeongguk shook his head, too embarrassed to actually speak. Jimin inhaled and exhaled, a mutter of words that were too jumbled for Jeongguk to make sense of.  “Well, actually dating someone is different. It changes how you act around your partner, even without you realizing it.” He took a deep breath. “And even without us being involved, I’m already far too soft on you.”

Jeongguk’s mind flickered back to when Jimin kicked him out of the kitchen. “I don’t believe that.”

“Jeongguk, do you remember when we went to Daegu?” He asked softly. Jeongguk nodded. He couldn’t forget. It was the first time he had prolonged contact with Jimin, sitting on that train with him sleeping on his shoulder. “You were doing everything you could to convince me to get our produce from there, but I already was.”

“No?” Jeongguk tilted his head. “We were getting it from a small farm in Seoul.”

“We were. But the night you told me to change it, I did. I didn’t even talk to Yoongi.”

The admission made him gape. “But we argued about it. You were skeptical. Why-why would you…?”

“Like I said. I already have a soft spot for you that could be dangerous.”

Jeongguk’s mind snagged on the words. “If it’s already dangerous without us being involved, then why-”

“Because I shouldn’t encourage it, Jeongguk!” He cried, voice raising in volume. “I have to run this restaurant unbiased and I can barely do that with us just as friends! I’ve made the mistake of getting involved with an employee before and it didn’t-”

Jeongguk sucked in a harsh breath at the same time Jimin realized what he was saying. Jeongguk’s head spun as Jimin pressed a hand to his mouth. But the words had already been said, the seeds of curiosity already planted. Jimin seemed to realize this, lowering his hand to tug at his sleeve.

“And it didn’t end well.” He whispered.

Jeongguk had to sit down, so he did, sinking into the couch opposite of the desk.

“What happened?” He rasped.

Jimin pressed his lips tightly together, wrapping his fingers around his wrist. His eyes flickered to the door, and he stood, crossing to close it. Jeongguk should have done that when he came in; anyone could have heard their conversation.

“His name was Minsu,” Jimin said, still facing the door. “He was the executive chef here before Yoongi-hyung took over the position; he was only a head chef at the time. I hadn’t taken over yet, but everyone knew me as the soon to be new boss. Minsu was… charming. He had a way of sweet talking people, turning them into putty with just a few words and a smile.” Jimin sighed, a regretful one, and rested his head on the door. “I was young and just as immune to his charms as anyone else. Which… was basically no one aside from my parents and Yoongi-hyung.”

He finally turned, wrapping his arms around himself again.

“We started dating a couple of weeks before I was set to take over. I was a little concerned by the ethics of our relationship since I would soon be over him, but Minsu just told me that as long as no one else knew we’d be fine.” He chuckled bitterly. “Should have been my first red flag. It wasn’t…” he swallowed, eyes on the floor. “Let’s just say that by the end our relationship wasn’t very healthy. We didn’t part on good terms.”

Jeongguk’s fingers curled into fists. “Was he-?”

Jimin shook his head. “Never physically. Yoongi-hyung insists he was verbally, but…” he shrugged.

So Yoongi had known, or had figured it out. And it was probably the reason why he was telling Jeongguk to be so careful, why he was vehement that Jeongguk didn’t fall for Jimin. But he had been kind about it, which reassured Jeongguk that he didn’t think that he would ever treat Jimin that way. He couldn’t imagine Yoongi being very nice if he thought that Jeongguk would be abusive.

And he never, ever would. Not to Jimin or anyone else. The mere thought made him sick to his stomach.

“Things were fine in the beginning. I did my best to settle into my new position, but I wasn’t very confident in what I was doing. My parents told me to ask the employees for their opinions often, so I did, hoping that it would lessen the stress. It did, a lot, but there were conflicting opinions in the kitchen. Shipments, the menu, and so on. It caused a lot of arguments, especially between Minsu and Yoongi. They were both so different, they clashed constantly. Minsu held it over his head that he was the executive chef, even though they had the same amount of experience, though Yoongi had more achievements.

“Yoongi was very clear with me about things, actively going out of his way to explain to me why certain options or ways to do things were better. Minsu didn’t do that; he was persuasive in his own way. But Yoongi laid out the facts and I could visibly see the differences. Kind of like what you did with me about our product, though he used graphs and statistics instead of taking me to Daegu.” Jimin gave him a smile filled with so much fondness that Jeongguk’s chest tightened. But then that smile dropped, becoming deprecating. “Even though Yoongi-hyung had done all of that, I took Minsu’s side every time. I thought he knew better and I was blinded by how happy it made him and how in turn, he treated me.

“Things started to take a turn for the worse. It started with our personal arguments being brought to work and our work arguments being brought home. It didn’t take long for everyone to figure out that we were involved, despite Minsu’s insistence that we were being so secretive that no one could possibly know.” Jimin scoffed, his eyes far away. “Like he didn’t spend a whole dinner shift complaining about how he never wanted to make a dessert again because I was always asking him to make them for me at home. Work started to become uncomfortable for everyone around us, and especially for me because I was a private person and didn’t like how he threw our dirty laundry out like he was talking about the weather.

“And then the real problems started. Minsu’s suggestions that I had agreed with started to show their true colors. The menu became too big, too messy, and difficult for everyone to handle. The kitchen was understaffed because Minsu had insisted that we had too many people, but it took longer for food to hit the tables. Our shipments came in late, and when they did come in, half the food had to be thrown out. Sometimes they didn’t come at all. It was my first reality check. I went to Yoongi, and he helped me change everything. I watched him consult with the other sous and head chefs as he made suggestions, and I realized that it was how things should have been.

“Minsu was furious with me when I told him that everything was changing. If he had argued with me when I first started I would have given in, but I had finally seen first hand how things were. I didn’t back down. I drew the clear line that I was making these decisions as his employer, but he refused to see that line. He used our relationship as a threat, and that’s when I knew how south everything had gone.” Jimin closed his eyes, sighing heavily. “As you clearly know, he doesn’t work here anymore and I’d never cheat so… you know what I chose.”

He went quiet, letting Jeongguk take in everything. And there was a lot that he had to absorb and process.

“I didn’t know.” Jeongguk finally mumbled.

“Of course you didn’t. I never told you.” Jimin said softly. He crossed the room, sinking back into his seat. “But that’s why I don’t want to start something, Jeongguk. Because I don’t want the same thing to happen to us.”

“I’m not- I’m not like him.”

“I know that.” Jimin said immediately, eyes wide. “Jeongguk, you are nothing like Minsu. You are twelve times the person he could ever hope to be.” His eyes searched his face, as if making sure that Jeongguk wasn’t doubting that. Jeongguk nodded to give him reassurance, and Jimin relaxed slightly, but his expression stayed serious. “But that doesn’t change the fact that becoming involved will make a mess of things. I might become more biased towards you and you might start to feel like you have more power because you’re dating me. Not to mention your coworkers might believe that any promotion you get is because of me, or they might feel that they can’t come to me about anything you do because they’ll assume I’ll take your side. And then there’s a whole additional mess if we did date and then ended up separating. I just- there’s a lot, Jeongguk.”

He had known all of this. Jeongguk had agonized over it, knowing the risks but still wanting. 

But having Jimin say it all made him realize just how impossible it was.

“So you’re rejecting me?” Jeongguk asked, already knowing the answer. Jimin’s eyes fluttered closed, but not before Jeongguk saw the despair. It was just as painful for him as it was for Jeongguk.

“Yes.”

Jeongguk inhaled. “Okay.”

“I don’t want this to cause us to stop being friends, Jeongguk.” Jimin said softly, a tinge of anxiousness underlying the words.

“It won’t.” It would hurt. Probably for a while, but Jeongguk couldn’t imagine his life without Jimin in it, no matter what type of space he filled. “I just might… don’t talk to me for a bit?” He winced at the words. They sounded harsh even though his tone wasn’t. “Wait, that sounded-”

Jimin giggled, eyes opening only to disappear into crescents. “I understand, Jeongguk. Whenever you feel ready, I’ll let you take the first steps.” Jeongguk nodded, standing. Jimin’s grin turned playful, if not a little sad. “Though try not to make me wait too long? I don’t want to start going through withdrawals, not being able to eat your desserts.”

“There are still some possets in the fridge.” Jeongguk offered, not missing how the lightening mood dipped again. He stared at his feet. “They should be good until Saturday.”

“...okay. Thank you, Jeongguk.”

He nodded, a quick jerk of his head. He was one step out the door before Jimin called his name.

“Jeongguk?”

He instantly stopped, blinking at Jimin over his shoulder.

“I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t say this,” he breathed. “But I don’t want you to…” he bit his lip, hesitating, before giving him a sincere, honest look. “I enjoyed it.”

“What?”

“The kiss.” His cheeks colored slightly. “It was really nice.”

Jeongguk’s heart swelled and cracked all at the same time. He furiously blinked away tears.

“I enjoyed it too.”

And then he stepped out the door, leaving behind something he knew could have been beautiful.

The first day was hard, the second even harder, and he lost count to the hurt and pain after that. He found himself glancing up at Jimin as he rushed in and out of the kitchen with tickets and plates before reminding himself that he had to stop doing that. Every smile that started to twitch onto his face was pushed back down by the rejection. He would always feel numb by the end of the day. He was grateful that Seokjin was there. He didn’t know why Yoongi asked him to help out, didn’t even know why Seokjin accepted, but he needed his friend’s presence now more than at any other time of his life.

It was after a week of discomfort and wallowing that he wondered why he was giving up.

It wouldn’t have come without a little bit of encouragement, though.

“Jeongguk-hyung, did you forget you were cooking with Jimin-hyung last night?”

Jeongguk glanced up at Heeseung, who was slicing onions next to him. “Huh?”

“Cooking with Jimin-hyung? You guys do that, right?”

“Y-yeah?” Or at least we used to.

“He was here last night, in the kitchen. Pretty late too. I had forgotten my phone and he was sitting at the counter… He looked a little upset?” Heeseung’s brows furrowed. “I almost texted you to ask if you guys had plans to cook, but we’re not really close so I didn’t… should I have?”

“No, that’s okay. We didn’t have plans.” Jeongguk said absently. Internally, his mind was racing. Unless Jimin decided to continue cooking on his own there was no reason he should be in the kitchen. It couldn’t be that he was eating the possets; they were bad by now if Jimin hadn’t touched them. Just to make sure, Jeongguk checked the fridge. It was void of any possets.

The question plagued him for the rest of the night, no matter how many times he tried to push it away. It lingered in his mind even as he walked to his bus stop.

And he couldn’t stop wondering.

When the bus pulled up to the stop, Jeongguk wasn’t there. He was running, inhaling lungfuls of icy cold, as he retraced his steps to the restaurant.

He caught his breath in the elevator before slipping down the hall with the side entrance to the kitchen, promising himself that he would just peek-

He was there. Sitting at the counter with the same stool he always used. An unopened bottle of strawberry milk laid in front of him.

Jeongguk’s whole body ached.

Because he could see the tears glistening on his cheeks.

Jeongguk didn’t step into the kitchen. He didn’t even stay and watch Jimin pull himself back together. He went home, walking the whole distance. When he stepped into his apartment he was shivering, but Jeongguk hardly felt it. He went through the motions of getting ready for bed, even when he knew that he wasn’t going to get any sleep.

He stared up at the ceiling and thought, running through everything.

By the morning, he came to a decision.

Jimin’s surprise was clear on his face when Jeongguk approached him, eyes widening when Jeongguk didn’t even stop, just grabbing his wrist and pulling him away. He let himself be dragged, the only protest being a hushed, “Jeongguk, what-?”

Jeongguk spun them both into the office, shutting the door directly behind them. Since Jimin had stopped basically in the doorway, it meant that Jeongguk was caging him in with his arms, palms flat against the wood. He lingered, watching the flush darken on Jimin’s cheeks before pulling away.

“Jeongguk, you-”

He grabbed Jimin’s hand, slapping a piece of paper into his palm. Jimin blinked down at it in shock.

“This is the number of Kim Namjoon. He’s the restaurant owner of Reflection and he’s going to open up here soon in Seoul.” Jeongguk said, the words flowing out of him. He let go of Jimin’s wrist, catching the hurt that flashed across Jimin’s eyes.

“I hope you know that I require two weeks—I don’t just let people qui-”

“I’m not quitting, Jimin.” Jeongguk interrupted.

Confusion mixed with relief flashed across his face. “Then why-”

“He’s currently involved with one of his employees. They’ve been dating for four months; had been working together for almost a year before that.” Jeongguk turned over the paper in his hands, showing him the other number. “This is Kim Seokjin’s number. You know, the person currently helping out in your kitchen. He officially works in Reflection. He’ll be transferring to the branch here when it opens. He’s currently dating his boss.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, lips parting in breathless shock.

“They’ve both given me permission to give you their contact information to answer any questions that you might have about how they make it work. Jin-hyung is open to talk to you whenever, even right now if you wanted to. He already promised not to tell me anything you say to him or talk about. Namjoon-shi insists that you give him a call, even if you decide to ultimately do nothing.”

“J-Jeongguk I- I thought we had already-”

“I did too.” Jeongguk took a deep breath. “I was fully prepared to give up. But then I-I thought. A lot, hyung. I didn’t sleep last night thinking about this. About all the risks. Everything that might go wrong. About the choices that I would have to make; the ones that you would have to make as well. Then I thought about what might go right. About how much happiness we could bring each other. And that? That’s worth every risk.”

Jimin’s eyes were wider than he had ever seen. Jeongguk squeezed his hand.

“You are worth every risk.”

Tears filled Jimin’s eyes at the words, but he was shaking his head.

“Jeongguk, I can’t. You know I can’t.” His lower lip quivered and Jeongguk’s whole body itched to pull him into a hug. “I already told you.”

“I know,” he rasped. “I know. But I can’t let it go.”

Jimin yanked his hand away. “You have to, Jeongguk. Because I’m not going to change my mind!” His tears spilled over, both in frustration and sorrow. “You can’t keep pushing at it. It hurts, Jeongguk. You know that I want this just as much as you do, but we have to let it go-”

“I’ll stop.” Jeongguk cut in desperately. “I promise that I’ll stop, but only after you think about it more.”

“Jeongguk-”

“This will be the only time that I ask, but if you think that I’m worth it, even just a little, can you please think about it? But if you don’t think that I’m worth it, just tell me that you won’t even consider it.” Jeongguk breathed. “You can end it all right now and I’ll stop, or you can think about it and I’ll go with whatever you choose when you’ve thought about it enough.”

The offer hung in the air and Jeongguk held his breath, waiting for the verdict. Once again, conflicting emotions were swimming across Jimin’s face. He stared down at the numbers for a long moment before his fingers curled over the little slip.

“You promise to stop?” He whispered.

Jeongguk nodded, his heart racing in anticipation and fear. Jimin gave him a cut nod.

“I’ll think about it.”

For the first time in days, a smile stretched over Jeongguk’s face.

New Years snuck up on them.

Jeongguk had fallen into the repetitiveness of busy days, only realizing the date when Yoongi handed him the special menu for the evening. While he had been counting the days since he asked Jimin to think about giving them a chance, he hadn’t been paying attention to where those days were leading them.

Jimin had taken his time to think, not giving Jeongguk an answer even after two days had passed. Maybe it should have made him nervous, but it made Jeongguk pleased that Jimin was taking as much time as he needed to come to a decision. The longer he took, the more confident he would be that he was making the right choice. Or at least, Jeongguk hoped.

Jeongguk had  given Jimin space, not wanting him to feel pressured or overwhelmed by him hovering. Jimin had given him the same courtesy when he first rejected him, so while he was deciding, Jeongguk didn’t approach him aside from when he had to for work. But he had stopped forcing himself not to smile around him. It might have just been his imagination, but it caused Jimin to relax. It certainly filled the hole in his chest a little.

True to his word, Seokjin didn’t tell him anything. Jeongguk had seen Jimin pull him aside when the dinner rush had calmed down on the first night, talking to him quietly in the corner. Seokjin had glanced up at him, a fleeting look, before dropping back down to Jimin. He smiled, warm and inviting. Seeing that was a good sign—a really good hopeful sign—and Jeongguk felt his curiosity spike. Naturally, he had asked Seokjin what it was about, but he just shrugged, a secretive glint in his eyes. He didn’t leave when Jeongguk did, sticking behind and telling him to go ahead. Although he whined and complained about it a little, he still left with more energy in his steps than he had for the past couple of days.

Namjoon was kinder, sending Jeongguk a text that he had talked with Jimin. He didn’t say if it had gone well or not, only saying that they talked for a long time and he gave Jimin as much insight as he could. It was enough for him.

Now it was the third day, and Jeongguk had no time to think about what Jimin’s answer may be. Christmas may have been busy, but they had extended their hours for New Years, leaving them to close the restaurant at two a.m. They had all wanted to give diners a chance to actually celebrate the change of the year in the restaurant, and since they were three floors under the top of the hotel Serendipity resided in, everyone could get a good view of the fireworks that were set to go off at midnight. This meant that they had more prep to do, and would be sweating bullets to get food out onto the tables for the whole night.

And Jeongguk was definitely sweating bullets, eyes flickering at the overflowing ticket line before him.

Thankfully both Soohyun and Sejin were back in the kitchen, relieving Jeongguk of his temporary head chef duties and easing the workload, but Jeongguk still didn’t have much time to breathe or relax. But he wasn’t sinking. They were getting food out in reasonable times. The mood in the kitchen was light, and he knew it was because of Seokjin and Yoongi’s playful bickering. Instead of being distracting, it was highly entertaining and easy to work to.

“Jin-hyung, did you finish up the ticket for twenty-seven?”

“Oh, I did that ages ago, Yoongi-chi. Are you still stuck on fifty-two?”

“Ha! If I was, I would be getting old. I can’t relate to you yet.”

Seokjin’s spluttering was joined by a few chuckles and giggles from the other chefs and wait staff who were in the room. Jeongguk was going to miss Seokjin in the kitchen with him—it was his last day with them—and he knew he wasn’t the only one. He had heard Yoongi offering him a position—with Jimin’s permission, of course—and he hadn’t missed the disappointment on his face when Seokjin told him about his plans.

Jeongguk was happy and content, and when he caught Jimin laughing into his hand, eyes closed into soft crescents, he felt peace sweep over him. He was starting to think that no matter what Jimin decided in the end, he would be okay. That didn’t diminish his feelings or chase away the hurt that still lingered, but he would be a fool to let that pain forever separate him from someone who was a good friend.

A minute before midnight, Jimin surprised everyone by making sure that all of the employees were gathered in the kitchen. They all counted down together, and joined the diners on the other side of the wall in shouting, “Happy New Year!”

Jeongguk squeaked when Seokjin pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek. Yoongi brandished a knife when Seokjin turned to him next, and he quickly turned away. Surprisingly, his next victim was Jimin, and jealousy shot through Jeongguk when Jimin returned the favor, giving Seokjin a dramatic kiss on the cheek with a wink and a smirk. The flare of jealousy was doused when Jimin caught his eye and smiled, mouthing, “Happy New Year, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk thought that you couldn’t fall in love with a person you were already in love with.

He was proven wrong.

Jimin was very protective when it came to the people he cared about. He didn’t hesitate to defend them when they needed defending and put them in their place when they were acting out. Jeongguk had seen it throughout the months of working for him and had experienced it himself in the incident with Heechul. Jimin wouldn’t put up with their crap when he knew that they could act better.

But there was one person Jimin wasn’t protective over.

Himself.

Jeongguk had seen it in little snippets. The first time Jeongguk had snapped at him, he had taken it in a stride, not reprimanding him. He once burned his thumb and didn’t say a word, leaving Jeongguk to notice his wince when opening his bottle of milk. Chulsoo had been her usually bratty self one night and had muttered some unkind comments about him under her breath. Jimin had handled her attitude, but he hadn’t asked for an apology, despite the hurt in his eyes. (She apologized the next day) Then, Jeongguk had learned about Minsu and although Jimin hadn’t gone into detail, he knew that Jimin had let himself be hurt, again and again, until he finally cracked and got away from the abuse.

Jeongguk didn’t know why Jimin didn’t hold himself to the same standard that he held everyone else. He just knew that he would do his best to return the care Jimin had shown him, protecting him in the same way that Jimin protected him.

So when Jimin came into the kitchen carrying a ticket and a plate that had been sent back with an angry Yeri on his heels, Jeongguk knew something was up and couldn’t help but listen in.

“-you have to kick them out!”

“It’s fine, Yeri.” Jimin sighed. He looked exhausted, but that could have been anything from the sleep deprivation from working the day after New Years, or just the normal drain of the day. But his voice was shaking slightly, which wasn’t… normal. “They’re almost done.”

“Jimin, you can’t be serious!” Her distraught voice caught Yoongi’s attention.

“What’s going on?” He asked, eyes narrowed.

Jimin ignored the question, setting the plate on the counter. “They would like the food to be cooked a little longer-”

“Yoongi, the customers-” Yeri started, but Jimin grabbed her arm, panic flashing in his eyes.

“Yeri,” he said her name in desperation. “I said don’t worry about-”

Yeri shot Jimin a glare, ignoring him and looking Yoongi straight in the eyes.

“Jimin’s being harassed.”

Jeongguk froze. 

And then he was moving, darting around the counter and grabbing Jimin by the shoulders before Yoongi could even move one foot. Jimin stared up at him wide eyed. Jeongguk could feel him shaking, tiny tremors that hadn’t been noticeable until he was touching him.

“What are they doing?” He demanded, growling the words. Jimin bit his lip, curling into himself.

“N-nothing. I’m fine, Jeongguk.” He tried to smile, but it broke before it could really be called a smile. Jeongguk’s hands tightened on his shoulders. “It’s just a few comments. I can handle it-”

“Comments my ass!” Yeri snapped. “One of them touched you-”

That was enough for Jeongguk. And it was apparently enough for Yoongi too.

“They’re out.” He snarled, stalking towards the kitchen doors. “Yeri, show me where these assholes are.”

Jeongguk let go of Jimin, eyes hard and fingers curled into fists as he hurried after Yoongi and Yeri. He immediately felt the eyes of the diners on them, more pairs joining them when Jimin cut in front of them trying to intercept.

“Yoongi-hyung, please!” Jimin begged, his voice hushed. “Just let it go. They’re almost done, we don’t need to make a scene-”

“Like hell!” Yoongi pushed past him.

“Yoongi-hyung-!”

Yeri led them through the open part of the restaurant into the more private section. Usually people who were having business dinners dined here.

Jeongguk knew exactly which table it was before Yeri had the chance to even point them out. It was a group of young men, chaebols by the flashes of excessive expensive jewelry in the light. They were all laughing obnoxiously loud. There was one speaking, a dark haired man with a glass of red wine between his fingers.

“-type act like they’re hard to get, but you can always tell by the look in their eyes. Especially the pretty looking ones. Ha! I would have mistaken him for a girl if it wasn’t for the obvious lack of breasts.” The group laughed, and Jeongguk’s blood boiled. He took two steps before a hand grabbed the back of his shirt.

The anger immediately turned to ice.

Jimin’s hand trembled from where he clutched Jeongguk’s shirt, eyes glassy. The front he had been putting on was completely gone, showing how affected he really was.

The man leaned forward, as if sharing a secret, but his voice didn’t drop. “Although, he makes up for it in other ways. Wish I would have pinched that ass instead of his arm-”

The rest of his words were lost as Yoongi slammed a hand down on the table, yanking everyone’s attention in the section to him. The man jumped, spilling a little bit of wine over the top of his glass. He cursed before glaring up at Yoongi. “Excuse-”

“Apologize.” Yoongi snarled. Jimin’s grip tightened on Jeongguk’s shirt, and without taking his eyes off of what was happening a few feet away, Jeongguk took Jimin’s hand away from the fabric letting him squeeze his hand instead.

The man scoffed, eyes narrowing. “For what?”

“For your disgusting words, you piece of shit.” He snapped. “And after you apologize, you can get the hell out.”

“Fuck off.” The young man rolled his eyes. “You have no business coming out here.” He smirked, eyes glinting. “Go back to the kitchen and finish my food. You undercooked my meat—don’t you know who I am? I could have you sued for attempting to get me sick-”

“I could care less who your daddy is and I wish I would have poisoned your food. Now-”

His eyes widened. He gasped dramatically and turned to his friends. “Do you see how he’s talking to me?” A few nodded and others giggled. His chest puffed up at the attention and he turned back to Yoongi, smirking. “Get me your manager- no, get me your boss. I’ll have your sorry ass fired.”

Jeongguk’s patience snapped, and calm anger spread through his bones. He gave Jimin’s hand one last squeeze before he started walking towards the table.

“I’m going to give you one last chance to apologize.” Yoongi said lowly.

“And I’m going to tell you again. Fuck. Off. And go get the boss.” He waved Yoongi off, turning back to his friends and not noticing Jeongguk’s silent approach.

Jeongguk stepped up right next to Yoongi, reached down, and picked up the edge of the tablecloth. Without a word, he threw it over the table, covering two plates and tipping over a glass. It grew very quiet. Jeongguk shifted to the next side, repeating the action. He could feel eyes burning into him, but he didn’t look up from his task until the whole tablecloth was on the center of the table, wine seeping through the fabric and staining it different shades. He grabbed the whole thing, plates and glasses clinking and some shattering as he lifted it off of the table. Wine dripped through, splattering onto the table, his shoes, and the floor.

Finally, Jeongguk looked up, addressing the wide eyes. The guests, flabbergasted. Yoongi, surprised but pleased. Yeri looked seconds from laughing. Jimin was… just staring, lips parted slightly in shock.

Jeongguk flashed a plastic smile.

“If you would like to speak to our boss, he's right there,” he gestured to Jimin with his unoccupied hand, watching their eyes widen. “Though, I’m not sure he wants to listen to your complaints. No worries, I’m sure the police would love to hear what you have to say when they arrive.” He watched their faces pale, and his grin turned dangerous, sharpening to cut as cleanly as Yoongi’s knives. “But I’m sure if you leave quietly, they won’t be called.”

He focused on the dark haired man, his grip on the tablecloth tightening. Every part of his body was thrumming for him to punch him for each disgusting word he said and for touching someone who didn’t want to be touched. Especially because he had said and done it to Jimin.

“Do you understand?” He asked, voice barely above a murmur.

He nodded, throat bobbing nervously. Jeongguk beamed.

“Wonderful! Thank you all for dining at Serendipity. Please let the door hit you on the way out and don’t come again, we won’t let you in.”

He ducked his head in a polite bow before leaving, carrying the tablecloth and what remained of their dinner with him. He hardly heard the other guests start to clap. He stepped past Jimin, their knuckles brushing. He paused, staring resolutely forward.

“Forgive me for overstepping my boundaries,” He whispered. “But I couldn’t stand by and let them do that, say that, to anyone.” He turned, swallowing the emotion that built in his throat. “Especially not to you.”

He didn’t stay to watch Jimin’s response to his words. He walked away, glass and silverware clinking against the side of his leg.

“Jeongguk, Jimin wants to talk to you.”

Jeongguk closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before setting down the sponge and turning. Yoongi was leaning against the counter, arms crossed. They were the only ones in the kitchen. Jeongguk had a habit of waiting until everyone else left before leaving himself. He didn’t know if that’s because of the weeks spent cooking with and for Jimin, or just because he liked to be the last one to leave.

“He’s in his office.” He added.

“Am I in trouble?” Jeongguk mumbled.

“If you were, I’d be pissed.” Yoongi snorted. “Jimin should have known better.” He paused, voice lowering. “Then again, he’s not very good at seeing how bad his own situations are.” He shook his head before offering Jeongguk a small smile. “I think you handled it nicely, kid. Far better than I was or ever would have.”

The support made him feel warm, but guilt followed after. Yoongi was so kind to him. He hardly yelled at him and even praised him for what he did in the kitchen. But the one warning he had given him, Jeongguk had ignored. And he knew that he had given that warning to protect him; to protect Jimin.

“Yoongi-hyung, I-” Jeongguk inhaled a shaky breath. “I didn’t listen to you. I-”

“Fell in love with Jimin.” Yoongi murmured. Hearing the words come from him made Jeongguk inhale sharply, his stomach flipping. Yoongi rolled his eyes. “I have eyes, Jeongguk. I’m not blind. And I know that he fell for you too; hopefully you already knew that, or I just look like an ass.”

Jeongguk chuckled weakly. “I knew. He told me.”

“But he also shot you down.” Yoongi said knowingly. Jeongguk nodded and Yoongi sighed, shaking his head. “I thought that you two would be a mistake, a mess this business didn’t need, but now I’m just disappointed. You two would have been good for each other.”

Jeongguk pressed his lips together, torn on feeling happy and sad at the words. Happy that Yoongi would have approved, but sad because he was sure that after tonight Jimin would decide that he wasn’t worth it.

“I thought so too but…” he shrugged, disappointment enveloping him. “Things don’t always work out.”

Yoongi’s expression softened. He pushed off the counter to stand by Jeongguk, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Yoongi didn’t do emotions and comfort and shit—his words, not Jeongguk’s—so this gentle concern made tears prick at Jeongguk’s eyes.

“Y-yeah. I mean, it’s going to hurt, has, but yesterday night I realized that no matter what happened, I was eventually going to be okay. It just kinda sucks right now. And-and I’m still holding on to a little bit of hope.”

“Why?”

He gave him a watery smile. “I asked him to think about it more and he agreed. He hasn’t given me an answer yet so…”

“Ah. I guess that explains your sudden switch from drowning in sorrow to having a spark of life again.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to have a mopy Jeongguk if he rejects you again, am I?”

“You might?” He chuckled weakly. “I’ll try my hardest to not be as bad this time though.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “You’re acting like he’s already said no.”

“Well, he has-

“-don’t be smart with me brat.”

“-and I think after tonight it’s pretty much decided.” Jeongguk finished, slumping. Honestly, the pain was starting to become so familiar he hardly noticed it anymore. “I don’t think he shares your same appreciation for me stepping in.”

“You never know.” Yoongi murmured, an unidentifiable tone underlying his words. Jeongguk’s eyes narrowed, but Yoongi turned away before he could try to decipher the tone by his expression. “You’ve kept him waiting long enough, don’t you think? I’ll finish up here.”

“Thanks, Yoongi-hyung.”

“Take him a bottle of that milk. Maybe he won’t fire you if you give him a peace offering.”

Jeongguk laughed, and he felt just a little bit better when he heard Yoongi’s chuckles joining.

It felt like he was walking to his own execution, in some morbid way. The chilled bottle in his hands kept him grounded and he felt strangely calm as he knocked on the closed door of the office. He listened carefully for Jimin’s voice, brow furrowing when he didn’t hear it. Did Jimin leave already? Or maybe he wasn’t in the office anymore-

Jeongguk had half turned away to go look for him when the door opened. He only managed to catch a flash of orange before a hand curled around his wrist and pulled him inside. 

The door shut.

It took a while for Jeongguk’s mind to catch up with his senses. The weight pressed against him, squeezing him tight. The smell of coconut shampoo despite preference for strawberry. The head of soft tangerine hair tucked under his chin, just barely in his field of vision. Jimin, his mind told him.

“Hold me,” Jimin breathed timorously. “Please?”

He didn’t have to ask twice. Never would, if it was up to Jeongguk.

One arm slipped around his waist while the other lifted so that he could slide his fingers into his hair. Jeongguk gently adjusted his head to the curve of his shoulder and neck, feeling Jimin sink into the touch, letting himself be guided. Jimin’s chest rose and fell against his as he inhaled and exhaled shakily, his breath fanning over Jeongguk’s skin.

Jeongguk held him, feeling the tension slowly melt away from him the longer they remained pressed together. He didn’t have to wonder why Jimin was like this, shoulders tight with the urge to curl into himself. Obviously what had happened earlier was still affecting him, and he hadn’t been able to process it fully because there had still been a job to do. Even if he had processed it, Jeongguk knew it took a moment to realign with reality.

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice hushed once he felt Jimin was relaxed enough.

Jimin shook his head, hair tickling Jeongguk’s neck and jaw. Jeongguk pressed his lips together into a thin line, feeling a thread of anger wind up in his chest before he pushed the knot away. It wasn’t like he could go hunt them down and punch them like he had been wanting to. They were long gone by now. He settled for resting his cheek on Jimin’s hair and pulling him closer, mindful not to stab the bottle of milk he was still holding into his back. It was getting harder to hold, the condensation making his fingers slippery.

“I’m sorry.” Jimin mumbled a few minutes later. “I thought I had pulled myself back together but then you knocked on the door and I-”

“It’s okay.” Jeongguk soothed. Without thinking, he turned his head to press a kiss to his hair, only realizing what he did when Jimin made a small noise. “Sorry I didn’t-”

“Don’t.” He cut him off, and Jeongguk bit his tongue. He relaxed further, almost becoming boneless in his hold. “I don’t mind if it’s you.”

The whispered words made Jeongguk’s heart skip. He closed his eyes, pushing down the emotions that threatened to spill over. He had to also ignore the desire to take Jimin’s face in his hands and press kisses to every inch of his skin. He was pretty sure Jimin would mind if he did that.

“What did you need me for?” Jeongguk asked. “I mean, aside from turning me into a comfort blanket.” He made sure to inject humor into his voice, and he got what he desired, a small laugh. Jimin pulled away just enough to look at him, smiling delicately.

“I was going to thank you…” he paused, his smile widening. “And scold you.”

“Scold me?” His hand fell from Jimin’s hair, joining his other at his waist. “Can you just thank me and leave it at that?” 

“You broke every plate and glass on that table, Jeongguk.” Jimin said sternly. “Those were expensive.” 

He winced. His paycheck would probably suffer that week to pay for the damages. 

“But,” the word hung in the air, and he watched Jimin’s expression soften. “You did it defending me, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jeongguk murmured. They held each other’s gaze until Jeongguk cleared his throat and looked away. His hands left Jimin’s waist. “If that’s all I should probably go now-”

“Jeongguk-” he grabbed his hands, and Jeongguk lost his grip on the bottle. It shattered at their feet, startling both of them. Milk seeped through Jeongguk’s shoes to his socks, joining the stain of wine.

“Shit,” Jeongguk cursed. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to drop it-” He tried to pull his hands away from Jimin’s so that he could clean it up, but Jimin’s grip tightened.

“Ignore it,” he squeezed his hands. “We’ll clean it up later.”

Jeongguk swallowed, noticing the shift in mood. Jimin's eyes were sharp and serious, but held a hint of nervousness. There was a second of silence between them before Jimin took a deep breath, steadying himself.

“I- I talked to Namjoon-hyung.” He started hesitantly. Jeongguk’s stomach flipped. “He told me about his experience and the reservations he had. It was… it was nice to talk to someone who had a similar experience even though some things were different. It was… comforting, I guess.”

His tongue felt heavy. “And?”

The word was a breathless whisper, filled with anticipation. Jimin took another deep breath. Jeongguk didn’t know how he was breathing at all; he certainly wasn’t.

“I’m still unsure.” He murmured.

The little balloon of hope that had been swelling in his chest deflated.

“Oh,” he couldn’t hide the disappointment from his voice. “That’s okay. Take… take as much time as you need-”

“I don’t-” Jimin bit his lip. “I don’t need more time, Jeongguk.”

Oh.

“Okay.” He rasped. “I- okay.”

“Jeongguk-”

“I promised, so I guess this is it.” He tried to smile, but it only lasted a second. “I should uh-”

“Jeongguk, let me finish.” Jimin interrupted, frustration clear on his face. Jeongguk snapped his mouth shut, cowering slightly under his glare. Jimin sighed heavily, shoulders dropping.

“I said I was unsure, and that’s not a lie,” he spoke hurriedly, as if to stop Jeongguk from interrupting further. “But I don’t need more time to think about it because that feeling won’t go away just by weighing everything on the scale of might and maybe. I either take the risk or don’t.”

His grip on Jeongguk’s hand, which at this point had been bruising, relaxed, becoming feather light.

“And I decided to take the risk. Because you're worth it, Jeongguk.”

All of the heaviness in Jeongguk chest, the heaviness that he had gotten used to and embraced, disappeared. Just by a few words. 

“You-” his voice was weak, barely audible to his own ears. “You want to…?”

Jimin peeked up at him with a small smile. “If you’ll have me.”

His head was spinning from the sudden lightness, and he hardly paid attention to what Jimin said next.

“Namjoon-hyung told me that it isn’t always going to be easy; we’re going to have a lot of bumps and a lot of opposition, but it’s doable as long as we take it slow. No rushing into things. We’re going to need to tell a few people, like Yoongi-hyung and Yeri so that they can make sure I’m not giving you any special treatment.” Jimin was rambling, cheeks flushed as he stared at their feet. “Once they know we are going to have to have a meeting with everyone to let them know what’s going on. Which, will be super uncomfortable, but I don’t want any surp-”

Jimin squeaked as Jeongguk ducked down to kiss him. A spark of electricity ran up his spine at the feeling; his mouth was just as soft as Jeongguk remembered.

Jimin pulled away when it was no longer considered a kiss; Jeongguk was smiling too wide.

“You keep interrupting me.” He muttered, but he didn’t sound particularly upset.

“Sorry.” Jeongguk grinned. “I just couldn’t… I-” He fought for words, unable to describe the giddy, pure, joy that was running through his veins. How could he possibly explain what was running through his mind? Jimin was giving him a chance. He was- they were- Jeongguk could take him out on dates. He could hold his hands. He could smile at him fondly while he spoke. He didn’t have to stop himself from wanting to pull him into his arms and press a kiss to his nose. “I’m so happy.”

Jimin peeked up at him under his lashes. “You like me that much?”

“Jimin, I love you.”

He gasped, a small little thrilling sound.

“And saying that isn’t even enough. I don’t have the words to express-”

Jimin didn’t let him finish, taking his turn to interrupt him. Jeongguk smiled against his mouth before tilting his head into it. It was just as sweet and gentle as the first, but less overwhelming. No less euphoric, though. And instead of tasting like wine, there was a hint of peppermint, like Jimin had just brushed his teeth. The biggest difference was that Jeongguk was allowed to touch. He did, settling his hands on Jimin’s waist, fingers curling into his shirt. Jimin sank into his hold, hand sliding up his chest to the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer. Glass crunched, startling both of them and breaking the kiss.

Jeongguk looked down at his feet, laughing breathlessly. Jimin’s giggles joined him, and in seconds, they were laughing hysterically, depending on each other to keep themselves standing. Jeongguk was sure that no drug could ever give him a high like this, drunk on the special chemical called Jimin.

All of his desperation, his hope, his pining, had led him to this.

To have “I love you too” whispered in his ear, followed by soft lips against his cheek as they cleaned up the milk and glass together. To be able to pull Jimin against him in a firm hug as he smiled into his hair. To pull him down the street, fingers interlocked for their first date at midnight because neither of them could wait.

It led to him smiling into the innocent kiss they shared before parting ways at Jeongguk’s doorstep.

He fell in love with him all over again.

And this time he knew Jimin was doing the same.

Yoongi and Yeri were their first confidants, Jimin and Jeongguk telling them about the new development in the office. Jeongguk could tell Jimin was nervous by the way he pressed his foot against Jeongguk’s under the desk. But they didn’t have to worry, because both of them were calm about it. Yeri was more reserved than Yoongi, but she also admitted that she thought that they were already together and had been hiding it. That made both of them flush to the tips of their toes and Yoongi broke out into roaring laughter—the loudest anyone had heard him. They all agreed to keep it on the downlow for a few weeks, not wanting to tell everyone else the news before they were sure that they were going to be serious. Despite the words, the looks Jimin and Jeongguk shared with each other confirmed that they weren’t planning on breaking up in a week or two.

Having it be a secret for a bit was… exciting to say the least. Loaded smiles, words with double meanings, lingering, hidden touches, and stolen kisses filled the days. Jeongguk’s favorite thing to do was go to Jimin’s office under the pretense of delivering a bottle of strawberry milk and spend as much time as he could hugging him. There had been one heart racing moment when the door had opened unexpectedly and Jeongguk scrambled to untangle his limbs from Jimin’s only for both of them to end up on the floor.

Yoongi glared down at them from the doorway, unimpressed, and chased Jeongguk back to the kitchen.

The office visits stopped for a while.

They resumed their cooking sessions. Jimin had confessed one night that after he had rejected Jeongguk he had tried cooking on his own. He hadn’t even been able to finish the prep without sobbing. Which immediately turned their cooking session into a cuddling session, with his arms tight around Jimin’s waist as he pressed soft kisses into the fabric covering his shoulder. Jimin continued to cook, but when he was done he turned and they spent the next ten minutes properly hugging.

Jeongguk mentioned one night that it didn’t feel like much had changed since they started ‘dating’.

“What makes you say that?” Jimin’s voice was distracted as he focused on the budget. They were in the office and the dinner service had only ended thirty minutes ago. It was Jeongguk’s day off and he had come all that way to pick Jimin up for a spontaneous date. He was alright with waiting, but he couldn’t help but pout because Jimin wasn’t giving him any attention.

“I mean, we go on dates, and kiss and stuff-”

Jimin laughed under his breath. “Kiss and stuff.”

“Shush. We do those things and yeah, they are different, but everything else feels the same..”

Silence filled the room for a moment, the only sound being the clacking of keys. Then Jimin asked,

“Does that bother you?”

“No, I’m just wondering if it’s normal. Does it bother you?”

Jimin glanced up at him briefly. “No. We were good friends before we started dating, so really the only big change would be the way we physically interact with each other. So it is quite normal.”

And then he looked back down at his numbers. Jeongguk’s frown deepened. He was patient for another ten minutes, Jimin not looking at him once, before deciding it was appropriate for him to start complaining.

“Jiminnnn.”

“What?”

“You’re ignoring me.”

“No, I’m working.” He flashed Jeongguk a smirk. “There’s a difference. Trust me, you’d be more upset if I was ignoring you.”

“Take a five minute break?”

“Jeongguk…”

“Please?”

Jimin bit his lip. Jeongguk’s eyes tracked the action and if Jimin had been sitting next to him, he would have done what he always wanted to do, use his thumb to free it and then cover it with his lips.

“All right… but only for five minutes!”

Jeongguk lit up, sitting up and making grabby hands at him. Jimin rolled his eyes, but got up from his chair and joined him on the couch. Jeongguk didn’t waste any time—he only had five minutes—and snuggled up to him. Jimin huffed in laughter. Seconds later Jeongguk felt his hands in his hair, gently smoothing through the strands. He hummed, sinking more bonelessly against him.

“You know,” Jimin said about halfway through their five minutes. “For most people a ‘five minute break’ with their significant other usually means making out.”

“...does it?”

Jimin laughed, poking at Jeongguk’s red cheeks. He frowned at the action, but didn’t pull away. “Yes. You are the only person I’ve been with that seems to like hugging more than kissing.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t like kissing. No, Jeongguk enjoyed that a lot. But there was something about being wrapped up in Jimin’s arms, his hair brushing against his skin, and feeling his weight against him that was addicting. It was comforting and intimate in a way that hugs never were before. Hugging Seokjin certainly didn’t feel like hugging Jimin. Not to mention, Jimin had wanted to take everything slow and Jeongguk agreed with him. Making out with a time limit didn’t seem slow to him.

“I don’t like one more than the other. They’re both amazing in their own ways, and when I kiss someone I don’t like feeling rushed.” He finally said, voice muffled against Jimin’s chest. “I like taking my time.”

Jimin was quiet for a while, which made Jeongguk a little nervous.

“Of course,” his voice was too loud and a little panicked at the edges. “If you want to make out, we can do that?”

“No,” Jeongguk felt Jimin press a kiss to his hair, and could feel him smiling. “This is perfect.”

As if rewarding him for liking hugs more than kisses, their five minute break turned into a ten minute one.

Jeongguk wasn’t complaining.

They had to tell everyone else only a month and a half in. 

Key words ‘had to’.

The plan was to tell everyone after two months after discussing with Yoongi, Yeri, Namjoon, and Seokjin about when would be the appropriate time to drop the news. Jimin and Jeongguk were careful to act how they used to, which wasn’t difficult because not much had changed. All they had to do was stay at least three inches apart and try not to stare at each other too much. As far as they knew, no one had picked up on their relationship. The only comments Jeongguk had heard were sweet ones about how they were glad Jimin and Jeongguk weren’t icing eachother out anymore, because of course, they had picked up on that. So yeah, they did a good job at keeping everything behind closed doors.

But their luck ran out.

And at the worst possible timing too.

Jimin and Jeongguk were cooking again, always in the restaurant kitchen because of all the reasons Jeongguk had voiced so long ago. Jimin was getting really good, good enough that Jeongguk wanted to suggest he help out in the kitchen during working hours sometimes. Because of that, Jeongguk had started taking more of a backseat, hovering just in case he had questions or needed an extra pair of hands.

Although, his hands were occupied right now.

“You’re being distracting.” Jimin muttered under his breath, brows furrowed as he tipped flour, malt, and baking powder into the mixture of butter, sugar, and eggs. He was trying his hand at a chocolate drip cake, which was admittedly a little difficult to do.

“Am I?” Jeongguk murmured. He was pressed against Jimin’s back, hands low on his hips, and chin on his shoulder as he watched.

“Just a little.”

He didn’t move away. Jimin didn’t ask him to. He complained again a couple of minutes later, when they had to do an awkward shuffle over to the oven, but it held no real emotion behind it.

As Jimin started on the chocolate sponge cakes, Jeongguk decided he didn’t need to watch and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Whatever Jimin was wearing tonight smelled good. He absently traced nonsensical designs against Jimin’s sides, feeling a little bit of the tension drain out of his shoulders as he did. 

It had been a little bit of a stressful day for him; Chulsoo had gotten into another one of her attitudes and Jimin had dragged her into his office for a long overdue talk. Jeongguk didn’t know what it was about, Jimin wouldn’t tell him, but Chulsoo had come out with a tissue clutched in her hand and red eyes, thanking Jimin quietly. Jeongguk was curious, but he knew that this was one of the boundary lines that they had set. Whatever Chulsoo and Jimin had talked about was between employer and employee and Jimin couldn’t break her confidence.

“What perfume is this?” Jeongguk asked as Jimin started folding the mixture.

“Hmm, I don’t remember. Do you like it?”

Ever since Jimin had learned about Jeongguk’s sensitive nose, he paid close attention to which scents he liked and which ones he didn’t. It made his heart hurt in a good way, because Jimin cared enough to not wear something Jeongguk’s nose would scrunch at.

“Yeah,” He tilted his nose into his neck, missing the way Jimin’s movements stilled. “You smell good.”

Jimin’s movements slowly resumed. “Creep.”

Jeongguk gasped, eyes snapping open. “I am not creepy! I just said you smelled good- it’s a nice thing to notice.”

Jimin started laughing, shoulders shaking. Jeongguk’s grip on his hips tightened slightly as he pouted, burying his face further into his neck.

“You’re mean.” He muttered, lips brushing against his skin. He didn’t miss Jimin’s pause this time.

“Just a little.” Jimin replied evenly. His voice was a little too controlled, movements wooden. Jeongguk smiled to himself; he had found another one of Jimin’s weaknesses. And tonight, when they had three hours ahead of them, he could tease Jimin as much as he wanted.

He started small, pressing a light little kiss to his shoulder. Jimin didn’t react, so he shifted a little higher, on the curve where his shoulder met his neck. Jimin stiffened a little, but continued pouring the hot water over the bowl. Jeongguk waited until he was stirring to do it again, a little higher. He got his first warning.

“Jeongguk.” Jimin huffed.

“What?” he asked innocently, eyes wide even though Jimin couldn’t see him. He didn’t dignify him with a response, only stirring the mixture with a hint of aggression.

It was when Jimin was separating the mixture into two tins that he struck again.

Jeongguk felt Jimin go still as his nose brushed along his skin, grinned at the little shiver he could feel run through his body. He knew another warning was on his tongue, so he quickly kissed his neck, letting it linger for a moment.

He hadn’t expected Jimin’s patience to snap.

And not in a good way.

“Jeongguk, hands off.”

The dark words made him immediately remove himself from any point of contact with Jimin, eyes wide with surprise.

“I-”

“Hmh.” Jimin held up a hand, silencing him. “Go to that corner,” he pointed to the back corner, across from where they were. “And don’t talk to me for a moment.”

Jeongugk didn’t argue, his heart racing for a different reason than usual. He shuffled to the corner like a dog with a tail between its legs, doe eyes on Jimin’s tensed back. He bit the inside of his cheek, worry flooding through him. Had he misread it? Had he actually been making Jimin uncomfortable?

He worried and fretted, an apology on the tip of his tongue but swallowed back. Jimin didn’t look at him, finishing up his division. Jeongguk’s palms were sweating with nervousness as Jimin pulled out the two malt sponges from the oven and replaced them with the chocolate sponge mixture. He jumped when Jimin finally looked at him. His face was void of any emotion, aside from the little glint in his eyes. Jeongguk was worried, but that worry faded in confusion when Jimin gave him a look, before setting the time to thirty minutes.

He was terrified when Jimin marched over, wondering if they were about to get in a fight, but that faded into gobsmacked confusion when Jimin grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down into a hard, firm kiss. It was very different from the innocent kisses they had shared. Jeongguk’s head was spinning, trying to keep up with the demanding movement of Jimin’s mouth, until he couldn’t keep up anymore, breaking away with a gasp.

“Wait, so you aren’t mad?” he croaked, fingers tangling into Jimin’s shirt. He didn’t know when they had moved from his white knuckled nervous grip on the counter to Jimin.

“Oh no, I’m pissed.” Jimin informed him before kissing him again, a little softer but still filled with heat. “Because you were getting me riled up but I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Relief chased away all of his worry. “Why couldn’t you-”

“First rule of cooking,” Jimin murmured against his mouth. “Don’t get distracted. That’s what you told me.”

“Well that sucks, ignore that next time.”

Jimin chuckled, eyes dark. “I’ll think about it.”

He pulled him down again, and Jeongguk met him eagerly. He didn’t have much experience with kissing like this; he had only made out with one person before and that hadn’t been a very pleasant experience. They were both a little drunk and the other guy had just shoved his tongue in Jeongguk’s mouth, which… ew.

But Jimin?

Jimin taught him.

There was all the heat and passion, but he built up to it. Added pressure slowly, let him adjust and get used to it before adding more. Instead of being forceful, he left kittenish licks that made Jeongguk whine and pull him closer. Jimin’s hands were in his hair, gripping the strands with practiced strength that made it feel good instead of hurting. When his chest was too tight and head too light, Jeongguk pulled away, panting. Jimin didn’t let the tension drop, kissing down his jaw and to his neck. Jeongguk shivered; that’s why Jimin liked it so much.

“Is this too much?” Jimin asked, hushed as he left another bruising kiss on his mouth.

“No, no this is-” he shuddered as Jimin kissed him again, tongue brushing against his in a hot, messy, slide that made his knee’s weak. “Perfect.”

“Okay,” Jimin pulled away slightly. His hair was mused from Jeongguk’s hands. They had switched at some point; Jeongguk’s hands in his hair and Jimin’s on his hips. Jimin had him pressed against the counter, which was good, because he probably would have collapsed otherwise. “Just let me know if its-”

“I will, just god, Jimin-” He pulled his head up, kissing him hard and uncontrolled, relishing in the whine that rose in Jimin’s throat. “You talk too much.”

His laugh turned into a groan as Jeongguk kissed him again. His hands slid under Jeongguk’s shirt, warm and cold at the same time because of the rings on his fingers. This was also new territory- hadn’t they agreed to take it slow? But Jeongguk had a hard time caring as his finger’s skipped over his stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He could only pull him closer, kiss him harder, because he couldn’t think properly. Not with Jimin’s teeth scraping over his lip, fingers curling over his bare skin, the warmth burning through him, the door opening-

The door opening.

Jeongguk tore away just as a yelp filled the room.

Jimin and Jeongguk stared at each other, panic and horror written in both their faces before they both looked at the person in the doorway, whose jaw was on the floor and eyes wider than even Jeongguk’s could go.

“I’m- I’m so sorry! I didn’t- I thought-” Heeseung stuttered and stumbled over his words, the tips of his ears bright red.

Jimin’s hands slipped out from under his shirt.

“I just forgot- ugh- I’ll leave! I’m sorry- so so sorry. Holy shit I’m so sorry.”

Without another word, Heeseung left, the door slamming behind him.

The kitchen was very, very quiet.

“Uhm.” Jeongguk finally voiced, obnoxiously loud. “Maybe he didn’t, uh, realize?”

Jimin glared at him. “Jeongguk, my tongue was in your mouth and my hands were up your shirt. I think he realized what was going on.”

“...right.”

So their hands were forced, and they scheduled a team meeting for the end of the week. Jimin and Jeongguk had a very, very uncomfortable conversation with Heeseung the next morning, asking him to keep quiet about it until they could address it at the meeting. Heeseung agreed without much fanfare, aside from apologizing a thousand times with a beet red face. Jimin and Jeongguk weren’t much better.

Jimin was a bundle of nerves before the meeting, and Jeongguk did everything he could do to calm him down, even offering a shoulder massage. Jimin slapped his hands away and just pulled him into a hug, burying his face into his neck.

They were five minutes late.

Jimin started the meeting with the update of the menu, since spring was coming in again. He answered any questions about that before his eyes darted to Jeongguk. He nodded, flashing a reassuring smile despite his own heart leaping to his throat. Jimin took a deep breath and quietly brought everyone into the other news.

There were mixed reactions, a lot of concerns from the people who had been here when Minsu had been (a total of five, including Yoongi and Yeri), confusion from people who thought that they had been dating long before the month and a half, but there were no overwhelmingly negative reactions.

Jeongguk fell in love with Jimin for the millionth time as he watched his nerves melt away into a breathtaking, blindingly bright smile when the meeting came to a close. He couldn’t resist kissing that smile, laughing when the teasing complaints rose up from his co-workers.

They made it work.

There were a few bumps in the road. A few arguments that ended in slammed doors and hurtful words. Some clipped comments that hadn’t managed to be left outside of work. A new hire, Leeyun, had complained about Jeongguk being promoted to head chef, saying that the promotion was because of his connection to the boss. Yoongi, while sharpening one of his knives, calmly explained that all promotions in the kitchen were made by him, and only signed off by Jimin. His complaints died quickly.

 One argument about moving in together had nearly ended them.

“We both need a place to ourselves, Jeongguk!”

“Jimin! Look around you! I basically already live here! We’ve been dating for months- I think we’re ready for this!”

“I’m not! Jeongguk! I’m saying no!”

That was a night that ended with a door slamming as Jeongguk left, stomping down the stairs of Jimin’s complex. They didn’t talk the next day, or the next. Jeongguk kept his distance, and Jimin didn’t cross it. They didn’t talk for a whole week, the longest they had gotten. Jeongguk had started wondering if it was worth it to continue, but he would always get a lump in his throat and dread in his stomach; he wasn’t going to give up on Jimin if he wasn’t going to give up on him.

It only stopped when Jeongguk had to be taken to the hospital.

It was quite stupid, really. Jeongguk certainly felt dumb, hearing about what happened later. Someone had dropped an egg and Jeongguk had slipped on the splattered yolk, hitting his head on the counter. He didn’t remember that. All he remembered was his head feeling really fuzzy and Jimin’s panicked face slipping in and out of focus. He also remembered the flash of red and blue, but that was it until he woke up with his head dully throbbing under the harsh fluorescent lights.

Jimin’s red rimmed eyes greeted him.

The doctor explained that he had a concussion and had to be monitored for forty-eight hours. They still didn’t speak, Jimin only talking to the doctor in a calm quiet voice. Jeongguk didn’t say much of anything. There was no argument as Jimin helped Jeongguk into his car and drove them to his apartment. They didn’t speak until inside, and even then it was a quiet, “Go lie down, Jeongguk, I’ll get you an ice pack.”

Jeongguk thinks he meant the couch, but he stumbled into Jimin’s bedroom, falling into the sheets with a tired sigh. He hadn’t slept in Jimin’s bed for a week, and he had trouble sleeping because of it. He had foolishly tried convincing himself it was because Jimin’s bed was nicer and not the fact that Jimin wasn’t lying next to him. Jimin didn’t comment on it when he entered the room and pressed the ice pack to Jeongguk’s head.

“Are we going to talk to each other now?” Jeongguk mumbled, words thick with sleep. He was tired, but he also didn’t like the tension between them, the tension that had lingered for the whole week.

“No,” Jimin murmured. “You are going to sleep.”

He started to move away, but Jeongguk reached out to grab his wrist.

“Stay? Please?”

Jimin pursed his lips, but he crawled in next to him. Jeongguk pulled him close, hesitantly placing a kiss on his forehead. He melted a little at the touch, tilting his head up to press his lips to Jeongguk’s chin.

“Go to sleep, Guk.”

He nodded off at the soft command, waking up hours later when the sun was just starting to peek through the blinds. Jimin was still asleep, head of brown hair pillowed on Jeongguk’s shoulder. He slowly eased out from under him, tucking the covers up to his chin and slipping out of the room.

He returned with a plate of food, poking Jimin’s cheek to get to him to wake up. He woke up slowly, yawning and whining at Jeongguk’s repeated poking. Still not quite awake yet, he pressed a lingering kiss to Jeongguk’s mouth. He sighed into it, another thing he had been missing because of their fight.

“What is this?” Jimin asked when Jeongguk handed him the plate.

“Breakfast.” He mumbled, looking at his hands. “And my apology. I’m sorry for being dumb.”

“Jeongguk, it wasn’t dumb. You just didn’t see it-”

“I’m not talking about slipping on the egg—though that was humiliating.” Jimin giggled and Jeongguk nudged him with his shoulder. But his humor slipped away. “I’m sorry about being so pushy about wanting to move in with you. You’re not ready, and that’s okay. I should have respected that.”

Jimin was quiet.

Then he set the plate on the side table and opened the drawer. After rummaging for a second, he curled his hand around something and shut the drawer. He pressed that something into Jeongguk’s hand. That something was a key.

Jeongguk stared down at the silver metal in his hand, lips parted in shock. “Is this…?”

“If you still want to.”

“But Jimin, I thought you-”

“I’m not.” He cut him off. “But I know myself. I’ll never be ready until I actually go through with it. And you’re right, you practically live here already. I noticed when I went through twenty of your hoodies before finally finding one of my own.”

“Admit it, you just wore mine instead.”

Jimin’s mouth stayed decidedly shut, but he smiled when Jeongguk kissed him, letting him know just how happy he was.

So yeah, they made it work. It wasn’t always easy, but they always gravitated back to each other.

“Jeongguk, stop gloating.”

Jeongguk turned his smirk from Leeyun, turning it to his Jimin who was arranging tickets on the line. He looked good in an apron, brown hair pulled back from his face. It had gotten long, halfway down his neck and perfect for burying hands into.

“I can’t help it.” He grinned. “It serves him right for what he said.”

“Jeongguk, that was months ago.”

“I hold grudges.”

“I’m going to break up with you.”

Jeongguk laughed, lacing his fingers between Jimin’s. He had bits of sticky dough on his hand, which Jimin’s nose scrunched at, but it smoothed out into a smile as Jeongguk kissed the back of his hand.

“We’re not exactly dating anymore, Jimin.” He murmured against his skin, eyes flickering to the ring on his hand. The one on his fourth finger. On his left hand. “You can’t break up with me.”

“Oh, should I divorce you instead then?” He leaned closer, eyes glinting.

“Is that a threat?” Jeongguk raised his eyebrows. Jimin huffed, pecking him on the cheek.

“You’re just glad it’s not a promise.” He teased, stepping away. Jeongguk didn’t let him, dragging him back in to give his husband a proper kiss.

Only to be whacked over the head with a spatula.

“Get back to work, Jeongguk!” Yoongi snapped. Jimin threw his head back in laughter, leaning against the counter while Jeongguk clutched his head in pain.

“How come you never scold Jimin?!”

“Easy.” Yoongi and Jimin said together, trading smirks.

“He’s the boss.”

“I’m the boss.” Jimin confirmed with another bright smile. It softened as he cupped Jeongguk’s face and gently pulled him down to press a kiss to Jeongguk’s head. “And I agree, you should get back to work.”

“Only because you asked me to.” Jeongguk grinned, sappy and oh so gone.

Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“Newlyweds.”