Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As the door fell shut behind him, Seokjin stopped in his tracks. The smell that hit his nose was pungent - vile. If Seokjin had had to describe it, he'd say it stank of old, dusty furniture someone had abandoned in the rain and of a multitude of day-old, oily food.

Yoongi laid a hand on his shoulder and pulled a face. "Don't hesitate now," he mumbled. "We have gone through a lot worse. We can handle this as well."

Seokjin remembered all those times he'd gotten sick to his stomach just after stepping one foot into the restaurant. Compared to those times, this was peanuts.

Still.

"It just never fails to absolutely baffle me," Seokjin said, aghast. "How can anyone run a restaurant like this? It's shocking."

"Nothing should be able to shock you this easily anymore. We're professionals."

"Then stop holding your breath, you liar."

Yoongi elbowed his side, almost sending Seokjin flying into the mirror on the wall next to him. Seokjin grunted and frowned, holding his ribs in mock offence. Before he was able to retaliate, a tall man clothed entirely in black approached them, arms spread out invitingly in front of him.

"Mr. Kim, Mr. Min! It's a pleasure to have you here!" The man stopped in front of them and held out his hand. Yoongi shook it with a strong grip. "My name's Sungho," the man introduced himself.

"You're the owner?" Seokjin asked.

"I am." Sungho nodded proudly. "The restaurant is my pride and joy."

"The place is empty," Yoongi said. He had never been one to mince his words. And he was right. The etablishment was positively deserted. Two old ladies sat on a round table in the corner, nursing a cup of what appeared to be tea. The bar was empty, as was the patio outside. The interior design was tacky and snobbish, floor-length red curtains blocking out the daylight even though they were pulled wide open. The weak, murky lightbulbs on the ceiling didn't make up for the lack of sunlight. Flowers stood on every table on top of a ruby tablecloth. Every table was laid with white, expensive-looking porcelain. A thick layer of dust covered every mahagonny surface.

All in all, the restaurant was gloomy and gaudy. Had Seokjin not been called here to help, he'd turned around and left without a second thought. It was dismal and downright uninviting.

Sungho flinched at Yoongi's observation but nodded his head. "We have no customers. It's sad, really."

"What do you think is the reason for that?"

Sungho put his head back, staring at the ceiling. He  corssed his arms and hummed. "I think… I don't want to blame anyone… but it might be the staff."

"What do you mean?" Seokjin pressed. "How is it the staff's fault?"

"I think the servers aren't skilled enough and they're rude. They're scaring off the customers."

"Why haven't you fired them then?" Yoongi asked. "That would be an easy solution, wouldn't it?"

"I cannot bring myself to do it. They need the money, don' they? It's all they have."

Seokjin smiled sadly and sighed. Sungho obviously meant well, but from a buisness point of view, his act of charity was disasterous. It could ruin his income - it was ruining his income. "How's the food like?" he asked. "After all, food is the main reason people come to a restaurant."

If the food was good, replacing some rude waiters was an easy fix.

Sungho lit up. A smile stretched across his whole face, showing off a row of yellowish teeth. "The food's great! You'll love it." He turned around, stepped aside and made a welcoming gesture with his hand. "Would you like me to bring you to your table?"

Seokjin laid his hand on Yoongis shoulder and squeezed. "Sure."

Sungho led them across the main room, evading tables and chairs as if it was an olympic discipline. Seokjin and Yoongi had trouble keeping up. At one point, Yoongi grunted. Seokjin bit his lip to keep from smiling. The smaller man had bumped into the edge of a table and now held his hip protectively.

Sungho stopped at the far end of the dining room and pulled out a chair. He signed Seokjin to take a seat. Seokjin smiled at him and sat, trying not to let the disgust of sitting on the stained cushion show on his face. Things like decor could be discussed later. First and foremost, they were here to taste the food and watch the workings of the staff. If Sungho's words were to be trusted, the waiters were the biggest issue, so they would tackle that first. Seokjin would make sure to pay special attention to them this evening.

Not soon after Sungho had left, a young man scurried into the dining room, pad and pen in hand. A black apron was tied around his black trousers. The white shirt exposed his collar bones. Seokjin swallowed. He wasn't here to ogle the waiters, but the man was a treat for the eyes. His body was muscular and fit but his big eyes and cute teeth screamed baby boy. Seokjin packed out his most blinding smile as the waiter approached.

"S-Sorry for the wait," the man apologized, red painting his cheeks. He looked absolutely delectable.

Yoongi lifted his hand. "We just arrived, no harm done."

"My name's Jungkook, I'll be your server today." Jungkook bowed curtly and reached behind him, snatching two menus off of the counter. He handed them over. His hands shook. Seokjin couldn't help but notice how dainty and long his fingers were. The golden rings accentuated his pale complexion. As Seokjin's eyes roamed over them, he noticed a bruise covering Jungkook's knuckles, red and angry. It looked fresha and painful, no doubt throbbing non-stop. "Thank you," Seokjin said as he accepted the menu, gaze still locked onto those hands.

"You're welcome," Jungkook said. Seokjin felt a pang of disappointment when Jungkook pulled his hands away. "Would you like something to drink?"

Seokjin shook his head to refocus and furrowed his brows.

So far, Jungkook was being anything but rude. On the contrary, he was attentive, friendly and fast. Anything one could wish for in an employee. "Yes, thank you," Seokjin said. "Water for me."

Yoongi nodded in agreement.

Jungkook bowed one more time and left as fast as he had appeared. Had the man been allowed to run, Seokjin was sure he would have. Strange, since there was no reason to be stressed. Him and Yoongi were the only customers Jungkook was currently tending to, giving him a lot of spare time.

Seokjin turned his head to look at his partner.

Confusion lingered on Yoongi's face, deep crevices marring his forehead. He leaned his head sideways. "He seems fine so far, no?"

"He does," Seokjin agreed. "But let's not judge too quickly. We have only seen him hand out two menus, there's a lot of room to mess up still."

Yoongi shrugged. "True, but it wouldn't be the first time an owner has lied to us. Wouldn't want to blame an innocent waiter. Poor thing doesn't deserve that."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Seokjin said and winked. "You know me, I never act hasty. Let's try the food and go from there."

Seokjin opened the menu.

His eyes widened as he looked over it again and again. He'd need forever and then some to read through it all. Pages upon pages of dishes and drinks.

Never a good sign.

A restaurant was prone to throw quality to the wind if too many dishes were on the menu. It always payed off to have a smaller menu the cooks knew how to prepare perfectly and by heart. No chef was able to handle this many dishes without falling back on frozen and pre-prepared food.

Seokjin gulped. He didn't look forward to tasting anything. Not anymore. But it was his job. Damn it.

"Just don't order any seafood," Yoongi warned, as if reading his thoughts. "You got sick last time when those shrimp had gone bad. Don't want to deal with that again."

Seokjin grimaced. "Yeah…" He filed through the menu. Nothing on there sounded appealing after Yoongi had brought up that particular memory.

Thank you, Yoongi.

Salads, soups, pasta, pizza, seafood, meat, burgers, cakes, ice cream, … It just didn't end.

When Seokjin looked up from the menu to let his eyes rest, Jungkook hurried out the kitchen double doors, a tray with glasses and a jug filled with tap water balanced on his right hand. His hips swayed from side to side.

How elegant.

Seokjin shook his head.

Get a grip.

"Were you able to look over the menu?" Jungkook asked as he placed the two glasses down, moving to pour out the water.

Yoongi pointed at the page he had opened but his face was as unsure as Seokjin had ever seen it. He didn't seem thrilled, either. "I'll have the mixed salad, french dressing, and the spaghetti bolognese."

"Sure," Jungkook scribbled it down on his pad and looked at Seokjin expectantly, one eyebrow arched.

"U-Uhm, right." Seokjin cleared his throat. "The tomato soup for me, please. And…" he browsed through the menu once again. Yoongi tapped his finger onto the table, patience running thin. It made Seokjin want to smack him. He was panicking, okay? Jungkook was beautiful and he was taking his order. Seokjin was losing it. "… And the filet mignon," he finally finished.

"How would you like that cooked?"

"Medium rare."

"Alright, thank you." Jungkook took the menus under his arm, bowed and sped away. Even faster than before. Seokjin was mesmerized. Where did he have to be? Where was he expected? Heaven? Fairy-land?

"He's cute," Yoongi said.

Seokjin spluttered, almost choked. "Yoongi!"

"I am thinking it, you were thinking it. I'm just saying what we both see. Neither you nor I are blind. He's cute."

Seokjin composed himself. "He is. Doesn't mean we can coddle him. We're here to judge."

"I'm not coddling him," Yoongi said. "He just hasn't made any mistakes yet."

"Maybe he's being extra careful and polite today," Seokjin mused. "I would be too if two world famous chefs were eating where I work."

"Could be. Or maybe the owner's trying to deflect the blame."

Seokjin side-eyed Yoongi. "We'll know when the food arrives."

Yoongi sighed. There was a lot of anticipation and a smidge of fear resonating in his following words.

"We will, won't we?"

Chapter Text

Seokjin hid his face in his hands and whined.

The food looked… sad.

The soup had been alright, even though Seokjin was convinced it was convenience food heated up in the microwave. But the dish now sitting in front of him was nothing short of pathetic.

A lump of meat he barely identified as his filet mignon and a heap of mashed potatoes that looked as if someone had already eaten them once just to throw up onto his plate. There was one measly broccoli, half covered it mashed potatoes.

"I do not want to try this," he said into the palm of his hands.

"If I had to eat mushy, flabby, sour salad then you need to eat your excuse of a filet mignon."

"Don't talk so confidently, that sauce bolognese smells like absolute shit."

Yoongi twirled one single spaghetti around his fork and sniffed it. He screwed up his face. "Oh god."

Seokjin collected the remains of his shattered resolve and cut into the filet mignon. Though, it felt more like sawing up a log of wood. "It's so rough." He gripped the knife tighter and put in more strength. Yoongi slurped up his lonely string of overcooked pasta when Seokjin finally managed to half the piece of meat. He ran his hand over his face. "It's raw," he whispered.

"What?" Yoongi asked, chewing and swallowing with obvious effort. It looked painful.

"It's fucking raw." Seokjin wanted to cry. A wonderful piece of meat, ruined. He pushed back his plate and cleaned his mouth with the white napkin. He was this close to wiping his tongue with it, too.

"Well, no surprise there," Yoongi mumbled. "The pasta's disgusting, by the way. Very bland and soggy."

"Meaning it tastes the way it looks."

"Exactly."

Jungkook peeked his head around the corner, lips pursed. Seokjin waved him over. The waiter flinched and stumbled, hiding behind the wall. When he emerged, he'd schooled his expression into something neurtal.

"How was it?" He asked, timidly. As if he already knew. Poor boy, it must've been embarrassing to serve the food in the first place. Seokjin's suspicion solidified: Jungkook wasn't the problem here. Jungkook was a blessing. A fucking treasure. The best thing in this whole buisness.

"It was dreadful," Seokjin dropped the bomb. Jungkook didn't even flinch, he just nodded. "It was abysmal. Disgusting. Look." Seokjin turned his plate around and showed Jungkook the inside of his filet mignon. Red and wet. Cold. He poked it with his index finger. Blood oozed out.

"I know," Jungkook said, but his eyes widened as soon as the words had left his mouth. He fumbled for words. "I-I mean - I'll let the chef know. Thank you." He moved to collect the plates and Seokjin was once more captivated by Jungkook. His slender forearms leading to a muscular biceps. His broad shoulders and narrow hips. Seokjin gulped. A sharp pain in his foot made him wince. He glared at Yoongi as if looks could kill.

"Don't stare," Yoongi mouthed.

Jungkook didn't seem to realize. Balancing the plates on one hand, he reached for the jug of water to refill their glasses. He was worrying his lower lip and his eyes looked hazy, as if coated by a film of mist. His hands shook, the water swishing from side to side as he placed the jug down. For a split second, he swayed, body leaning right dangerously. But Jungkook caught himself and straightened his back.

Yoongi furrowed his brows. "Are you okay? You seem dazed."

"Y-Yes. Sorry. Just let me bring these to the kitchen. I'll be right back."

"Do you want to sit down for a moment?" Seokjin asked. "We don't want you to fall. You'll hurt yourself."

"I'm fine, really, " Jungkook tried to reassure. "I'll drink some water and be as good as new in a few seconds. Don't worry."

When he wobbled away, Seokjin and Yoongi shared a long, intensive look.

"What was that?" Seokjin asked.

"No idea, but he looked very unwell. Do you think he'll be alright?"

As if on cue, loud yelling boomed through the double doors of the kitchen. Seokjin jumped.

What the- ?!

Something shattered, probably bursting into a million pieces some poor swamper would have to scrape off of the floor. A loud crash, a bang. Another dish breaking. More unintelligible yelling.

Seokjin held his breath.

Silence. The quietness was eery and it seemed to drag on forever.

"What happened?" Seokjin whispered and sank deeper into his chair. His skin was prickling. Something was wrong.

Yoongi shrugged, looking just as spooked. "Didn't sound good. Someone has anger management issues. Seems like the problems here run a lot deeper than the food being absolute shit."

Finally, after minutes of uncertainty, The double doors swung open. Jungkook stepped out of the kitchen. His tuft of black hair was disheveled and his face sickly pale like a ghost. The waiter made a beeline for the bar. Yoongi's eyes bulged as he watched Jungkook pour himself a shot of tequila.

"What the fuck," he blurted.

"I would reprimand you," Seokjin said, "but I agree. What the fuck."

What in the world was Jungkook doing? Was he really drinking in plain sight while he was working? Was this allowed?

Jungkook downed the drink, rinsed the glass in the sink and rolled his shoulders. He braced himself on the counter and took three deep breaths. His back was tense. Seokjin tried to tear away, but the sight was disconcerting.

Jungkook looked ready to crumble.

When he finally turned around approached their table again, he took careful and deliberate steps, much slower than he'd done all evening.

His face showed now emotion, it was wiped blank. "Would you like to order anything else?" His voice was raspy.

"No, thank you," Seokjin said. He mulled over his words but decided the question would have to be asked one way or another. "What happened back there? We heard yelling and a lot of concerning noise. Everything alright?" Deciding to refrain from commenting on Jungkook's alcohol consumption for now, Seokjin waited with bated breath for an explanation.

Jungkook seemed to shrink. His shoulders pulled inwards, but his expression remained very controlled. "Nothing. Someone dropped a plate and Sungho got angry. It's no big deal."

Ah, so it was Sungho who was yelling. I'll have to speak to him later. That's no way to treat an employee. Especially not for dropping a plate.

"We heard the screaming before we heard the plate shattering, though," Yoongi pointed out. Seokjin stilled. True. There went the relief that had flooded his body at Jungkook's words. It made no sense. Something else had to have happened.

Jungkook scowled at Yoongi. "Are you here to taste the food or to analyze everything else?"

"Both, actually," Yoongi said. "Interactions between employer and employee play an important role in any buisness."

Seokjin's eyes again moved to Jungkook's hands. They were intertwined, thumbs drumming against each other. A red cut on his wristbone caught Seokjin's attention. Okay, the relief had officially morphed into slight panic and heavy concern. Great. He pointed at it. "What is that?"

"I cut myself when I collected the shards," Jungkook fired back. It seemed as if he had practiced that answer beforehand, and it didn't sit well with Seokjin. Jungkook sighed. "Now, what can I do for you? Would you like to try one of our drinks?"

"I think I've had enough," Yoongi said.

"I promise the drinks are good," Jungkook insisted.

Seokjin arched his brow. "A bold statement, considering the state of the food we just had."

"I make the drinks," Jungkook said, a little pride shining in his eyes. "I'm good."

"I thought you were a waiter," Yoongi said.

Jungkook shrugged. "Our bartender quit two months ago. Someone has to keep it running."

That piqued Seokjin's interest. "Why did he quit?"

"The restaurant is failing. It's understandable."

"Why aren't you quitting?"

"I need the money."

I guess that's all there is, huh? So sad. He deserves better than this.

"Well, in that case," Seokjin said, "I'll have a drink. Thank you."

Jungkook's eyes brightened and a hesitant smile snuck onto his face. Seokjin felt as if he was watching a child unpack a mountain of presents. It was so fucking endearing.

"Which one?" Jungkook asked.

Seokjin winked. "Surprise me."

"A-Alright." Jungkook hurried off behind the counter and pulled out two bottles of alcohol and a pear-shaped glass that had been polished to perfection. Butterflies went wild in Seokjin's stomach. How could one grown ass adult be so cute?

"You're so gone," Yoongi said and snorted. "It's not even funny anymore, it's just pathetic."

"As if you're any different. You're just better at playing hard to get."

"Bet I can get him to agree to a date with me first?" Yoongi challenged. His eyes shone with mirth.

"Oho." Seokjin placed a kiss on Yoongi's cheek and laid his lips against the shell of his ear. "You're forgetting how charming I am. I think I need to remind you." Seokjin felt a shudder run through Yoongi's body and smirked in satisfaction. None of his boyfriends were able to resist him. To be fair, though, no one in their relationship was ever able to resist anyone.

"Seriously, though," Yoongi breathed. "I want to take him out on a date."

"Me too."

"Think the others will be okay with it?"

"We'll just have to get them to meet him. They'll fall victim to his big eyes in no time."

In that moment, Jungkook returned with two drinks. They were colored like the sky at sunrise. A pale orange and pink, cloudy and milky at the bottom. The rim of the glass was lined with sugar and syrup.

"Oh, I didn't order a drink," Yoongi said.

"Your eyes did," Jungkook quipped. "Don't worry, it's on the house."

"Your 'house' cannot afford bearable food, I doubt it can pay for two beautifully crafted drinks like these. I'll pay them," Seokjin said.

"Y-You really don't have to-"

"I want to."

Jungkook nodded once and handed them the drinks. He stared at them with big eyes, urging them to try his creation, hugging the tray to his chest as if it gave him a semblance of stability.

Seokjin dipped his lip into the liquid and hummed. It was very sweet with a tinge of refreshing sourness. He couldn't name the liquor mixed into it but he was able to taste orange, ginger and honey.

"It's good. Very good."

A blush rose to Jungkook's cheek, finally giving his face back some of its color. Instantly, he looked much healthier and not as if he would be falling over soon. "Thank you."

Yoongi agreed with a smile. "Very good. By the way, are you free on Friday?"

"Excuse me?" Jungkook said, eyes widening.

"Excuse me?!" Seokjin blurted. "We did not agree upon this!"

"I have a bet to win. So, are you free?"

"A-A bet?" The corner's of Jungkook's lips turned down. His eyes shone wetly. "Really?"

"No!" Yoongi rushed to say, almost flying out of his chair. "Not like that! I swear you are misunderstanding this! Shit- I-!"

"Typical," Seokjin sighed. He shook his head in disbelief. "Jungkook, he really did not mean it like that. We just betted who would get a date with you first. You're too cute to resist asking out." Throw a little flirting in there, that never fails.

And lo and behold, Jungkook fumbled with the tray in his hands and shuffled his feet, deep red rising up to the tip of his ears. "I-I mean… Are you for real?"

"Yes," they said in unison.

"I'd love to go on a date with you."

Seokjin looked at Yoongi flabbergasted. Yoongi smirked.

But Seokjin could only think about one thing.

How was this so easy?

He said yes. Just like that.

Unbelievable.

(He's so fucking cute.)

However, the little cut on Jungkook's wrist and the bruises on his knuckles remained in the back of Seokjin's mind.

Chapter Text

Jimin waited outside the restaurant, hands stowed away in his pockets to protect them from the cool evening wind.

Seokjin hadn't been joking when he'd said the place looked run down. Even the facade seemed to find the concrete floor more appealing, falling off in large chunks. Jimin scrunched it with his boots and watched as it curmbled to dust.

He looked down on himself, making sure the black dress shirt was still firmly tucked it and wrinkle-free. It hugged his chest snugly and revealed his collar bones. Slipping further down, his eyes got caught on his gun holster.

On any other day off, he would've left his firearm at home, but Yoongi had insisted he take it along. At least he was able to come in plainclothes, not required to wear his uniform. Upon his inquiry why Yoongi was so adamant about bringing his weapon, a shadown had crept onto the older's face, fringe falling forward to hide his eyes.

"Because my gut tells me someone in there needs to be reminded of their place. I don't know if the staff is treated fairly. It doesn't sit right with me. What better way to intimidate someone than to send someone with a gun in there?"

"Is that why you're sending me instead of going on your own?" Jimin had asked.

"Yep."

"Jungkook had bruised hands," Seokjin added. "I really don't like the picture that's painting itself in my head. I 'm concerned about him."

Wait, Jimin thought. If I'm supposed to intimidate someone, I should probably go inside and actually show myself.

With that decision made, Jimin pushed himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against and adjusted his belt.

He couldn't believe he was about to meet another potential future boyfriend. Weren't five enough? But when Seokjin had set his mind to something, it was hard to stop him. And for Yoongi to be enamoured just as much... It was interesting, at the very least.

Oh, well. Here we go.

Jimin braced himself and entered the building.

The inside wasn't faring any better than the outside. The accumulation of dust and grime made Jimin sneeze. He rubbed his nose, scowled and surged ahead with new-found determination. It was better to get this over with as quickly as possible and leave. He already missed the fresh air.

Jimin was stopped by a waiter approaching him.

"Can I help you?"

Jimin halted and eyed him from head to toe. The waiter was tall and broad but still preserved an air of innocence and fragility. Jimin whistled in appreciation, making the young man in front of him blush like a schoolgirl.

Then, it dawned on him.

"You're Jungkook," Jimin concluded. And suddenly, he had to retract his earlier statement. Five boyfriends were decidedly not enough. He needed to add this one.

"I-I am?" Jungkook agreed, voice going up at the end, uncertainty clearly audible. "How…?" His voice was like honey. Smooth and soothing. His eyes were so big. Jesus.

"I can't believe this," Jimin groaned and covered his face with his hands. "You're his type to a T. What a hopeless idiot."

"Huh?" Jungkook blinked.

"Don't worry. Are you finished with your shift?"

"Uh- Soon. But why?"

"We have a date in like..." Jimin inspected his wristwatch, "fifteen minutes."

"We do not."

"We do. It's an all or none deal, sweetie." He winked. "I'll have a coffee while I wait, please."

Jungkook pursed his lips and crossed his arms. His expression was pinched, as if he was trying really hard to solve an elaborate puzzle in his head. "What do you mean?"

"You agreed to a date with my two loser-boyfriends. Which means you accepted all six of us. It's a package deal, I fear."

Jungkook's eyes widened. "Oh, fuck me." He turned around and buried his face in his hands. "Are you for real?"

"Well, what did you expect?"

Jungkook twirled around and looked at him with squinted eyes, lips parted open. If disbelief would've had a corporal form, this would have been it. "You do realize it is not normal or common to go on a date with six people, right? Six. I was lying awake all night trying to come to terms with the fact I was going out with two men. But six."

"Are you backing down?" Jimin challenged, but the thought made him want to cry.

"As if." Jungkook sounded scandalized Jimin would even suggest anything of the sort. "Sit down, please. I'm getting you your coffee." And he stomped off.

Jimin snorted, but he was so endeared.

Yeah, alright, he's cute. Like, cute cute.

Jimin pulled out a chair and sat, trying not to focus on the dreadful, stained tablecloth. Instead, he observed as Jungkook worked the coffee machine behind the counter. The muscles in his back pulled and stretched and his nimble hands inserted the portafilter with practiced ease. While the liquid dripped into the cup slowly, Jungkook foamed up the milk and grabbed the chocolate powder from the cupboard.

Is he trying to impress me? I ordered a plain coffee. Jeez.

Jimin smiled to himself. Jungkook rounded the corner two minutes later, tray balancing an artfully made cappuccino, salted biscuits and a small glass of water.

"You outdid yourself," Jimin complimented, taking everything in. His mouth watered.

Jungkook smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes and Jimin wondered why the man huffed in frustration all of a sudden. "Thank you, but this is nothing."

Is he angry?

"What's wrong?"

Jungkook's jaw tensed. "Nothing. Enjoy." The tray landed on the counter with a loud clang after Jungkook put it down with more force than necessary.

Jimin narrowed his eyes, taking the first sip of his beverage. He sighed and leaned back. It was creamy and just cold enough to not burn his tongue beyond repair.

"You're supposed to drink the water first," Jungkook called, elbows propped onto the counter, hands holding his chin. A smirk had replaced the previous scowl.

Jimin faltered, gazing down at the cappuccino. "Ah- really? I didn't know..."

"Yes."

"Jungkook!"

Jungkook whipped around as his name was called. It was barely visible from the angle, but Jungkook's smile had fallen within an instant. The man pushing his head through the kitchen door snarled. His face was red and sweaty. "Get your ass in here and let the customer enjoy his drink in peace."

Ah, that must be him. The guy with the anger issues.

Jimin twisted his upper body to face the man head-on. "It's quite alright. I was enjoying the company a lot. You have a wonderful waiter."

The man let the doors fall closed behind him and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Is that so?"

Wow, what an ass. No wonder they lack customers. He's already on my shitlist. No need to add more reasons.

"Very much so," Jimin said, keeping his tone nonchalant. Inside, he felt boiling heat expand to every part of his body with every word. "In fact, I would love for him to sit with me for a while. There's no one here besides me, what else is he supposed to do? Stand around?"

The look on the man's face was priceless. He grumbled something before he said, "Whatever. But if anyone else enters, you're back on your feet." With one last glare, he retreated to the kitchen.

Jungkook puffed out his cheeks.

"Come on," Jimin called. "I meant what I said. Sit with me."

Jungkook sprung into action immediately, scurrying over to Jimin and falling into the chair next to him. He seemed wary, eyes searching Jimin's face.

Jimin put down his cup and puckered his lips. His index finger drummed against the table. Now, with Jungkook's hands lying flat on the surface right in front of him, Jimin was able to see the various bruises and cuts. He sucked in air through his teeth.

Is this what Seokjin meant? Jesus Christ. This is worse than I thought.

As inconspicuously as possible, Jimin's eyes roamed over Jungkook's hands, wrists and wandered further up his arm. There, in the crook of his elbow was a small, red, circular wound.

...

Is that a fucking cigarette burn?

Jimin gritted his teeth. This man was going to regret ever touching Jungkook.

He took a deep breath and held it for several seconds. He needed to approach this carefully, lest he scared Jungkook off.

"Hey," he whispered.

Jungkook hummed.

"Do you need some ointment for that? It looks painful." Jimin's finger touched the cut on his knuckles, light as a feather as to not cause any pain. Jungkook still flinched, pulling his hand away as if it had been stung by a bee.

"No, it's fine." Jungkook hid his hands under the table and stared at the withered flower in front of him.

"Are you sure?" Jimin pressed, leaning in closer. He couldn't back down now. Jungkook was already closing himself off, but Jimin couldn't sit there and do nothing. "Listen, you can talk to me. Is that man treating you alright? I don't like the way he screamed at you."

Jungkook kept quiet. His expression was stony.

After a while, Jungkook shrugged. "He gets loud, sometimes. Doesn't matter."

"It does if your hands look like that. That was him, wasn't it?"

If there was anything Jimin had learned from countless interrogations, it was that not giving an answer was an answer in itself.

"That's not okay, Jungkook," he continued. "He's not allowed to do that. You know that, right?"

Another shrug.

Jimin reached beneath the table and enclosed Jungkook's clenched fist with his hand. "Let's leave. You can tell us or you can think it over. In the end, it's your decision. I won't force you to talk. But we're leaving right now."

Jungkook relaxed at those words, sagging his shoulders and letting out a breath he'd been holding. He shook off Jimin's hand and stood. Jimin missed the warmth of the body next to him immediately. "Okay. Let's go. My shift ended five minutes ago anyway."

Jimin gulped down the now cold cappuccino and shouldered his bag hung over the back of the chair. He rested his hand against the small of Jungkook's back and guided  him to the door.

After the date ended and Jungkook had been thoroughly spoiled, he needed to have a serious talk with his boyfriends.

Chapter Text

Hoseok couldn't tear his eyes away from Jungkook.

It was no wonder his boyfriends had been ensnared by this man one by one in such a short period of time. The way his eyes lit up when he smiled was captivating. His every expression was so open, it almost felt invasive to watch him.

Sitting directly across from him didn't help. The plain wall behind Jungkook provided no distraction whatsoever. Jungkook was, by far, the most interesting thing in his line of sight.

At least Hoseok wasn't alone in his obsession.

It was clear as daylight every single one of them had fallen for Jungkook within five seconds of meeting him. Seokjin had come home completely soft for the man, raving about him for ten minutes before anyone else had been able to get a word in.

Yoongi had had some more self control but ultimately had been unable to hide his attachment. The way his fingers had fidgeted with the hem of his shirt and the fact he had never once disagreed with Seokjin's shower of compliments had given him away.

At that point, Hoseok had been hesitant. They had just decided to use their spare room as a gym. They had no space for another boyfriend.

What was so special about this Jungkook guy anyway?

Jimin had just shrugged when asked to collect Jungkook from work. In moments like these, the second youngest was surprisingly hard to read. But as soon as Jimin had arrived with Jungkook in tow the next evening, it had been clear he was as gone for him as the other two.

Then, even before Jimin and Jungkook had reached the table at the back of the restaurant, Hoseok's heartrate had increased and the palms of his hands had gotten sweaty. Every step had pulled him in more and more. He too, had fallen victim to Jungkook's charms within an instant.

Thinking about it, it was kind of creepy for one human being to have such an alluring aura. Creepy and unfair.

The sheer power this man possessed.

Was Jungkook aware of it?

Judging by the confused and dazed expression on his face, eyes darting left and right, the answer to that question was 'no'.

He looked so lost. Like a puppy.

Oh my god. I need to stop.

"You're staring," Taehyung whispered in Hoseok's ear, warm breath tickling his neck. "He's going to think you're angry at him. Stop it."

Hoseok blinked and opted to peer at the neatly folded napkin instead. Had it been that noticeable? Shit.

Taehyung chuckled but didn't say anything else, inserting himself back into the conversation with ease.

"So, have you guys decided on what you want to eat?"

Six nods were all the answer he needed and Taehyung waved over the waiter.

Jungkook had stopped looking around, solely fixated on the waiter now making his way towards them. For the first time that evening, Hoseok was unable to read his expression. It seemed more closed off, more controlled. Jungkook's jaw was tense and his teeth grated against each other just enough for Hoseok to realize. Jungkook's fingers dug into the menu, bending the laminated paper.

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked, pen ready to scribble down their wishes.

Suddenly, Hoseok was aware of how not ready he was. He had been so occupied with staring at Jungkook he had forgotten to look through the menu.

I don't want to eat, I want Jungkook.

He wasn't even ashamed of his thoughts, but the panic of being put on the spot chased them to the back of his mind. When the waiter turned to him with raised eyebrows, Hoseok's cheek grew hot. "Uh- I'll have the same as him," he said, pointing at Yoongi with his thumb. "Thank you."

Yoongi screwed up his face but, thank god, didn't comment on it.

The waiter collected their menus and was on his way into the kitchen to pass the order.

"Thank you so much for inviting me," Jungkook said. "I know the food here is expensive. You don't have to do this."

"Don't worry about it," Seokjin said, waving him off. "It's our pleasure to pay for you. After all, we're kind of sorry to have blindsided you like this. But touching upon our four other boyfriends seemed like a sure-fire way to have you turn us down. I hope you understand."

"It's… unusual," Jungkook admitted, "but I don't mind. I would feel better if I was at least allowed to pay for the drinks, though."

"No," Yoongi said.

"But-"

"No."

"Okay." Jungkook didn't launch another try, but turned very quiet all of a sudden. His eyes were glued to Taehyung's face, as if a fly sat on the tip of the other's nose. "I feel like I've seen your face before," Jungkook said. "It seems very familiar. Do we know each other?"

"Our Taetae is a model," Jimin explained, throwing an arm around Taehyung's shoulder. Taehyung kept a straight face, used to Jimin's occasional boasting. "That's probably why you know his face. Just last week, he was on the cover for three major magazines."

Jungkook's mouth fell open. "A-A model?" Hoseok wasn't able to read someone's thoughts but he just knew Jungkook's mind was going a mile an hour by the way he zoned out completely.

"Yes," Tahyung confirmed. He frowned when Jungkook didn't move and waved a hand in front of his face. "You alright?"

Jungkook jumped. "S-Sorry, I was lost in thought."

"We could see that." Taehyung snorted. "It's not a big deal. It happened by chance more than anything. It's just a normal job these days."

Jungkook arched an eyebrow. That eyebrow revealed about a thousand objections Jungkook had on the subject, but he kept them to himself.

"What do you like to do in your free time?" Namjoon spoke up. Hoseok was glad for the change in topic. He didn't think he could take the awkward tension any longer.

"I like videography," Jungkook said and then added something completely unintelligible, mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" Hoseok asked. "I didn't understand you."

"And singing," Jungkook repeated, wringing his hands in his lap. "I like videography and singing."

Adorable.

"Can you sing something for us?" Hoseok leaned forward into Jungkook's personal space.

The younger man pulled away until his back hit the wall. "W-What?"

"Not here, Hoseok," Jimin said. "We're in a restaurant. He'll have plenty of opportunities to sing for us later."

Hoseok jumped when the waiter appeared at his side, various plates balanced on his hands and arms. The food steamed and smelled delicious. He just hoped he hadn't ordered something he hated. God, what if he disliked his meal?

I'll die of embarrassment. Is that why Yoongi looked at me so strangely? Oh god.

The dishes got distributed one by one. Hoseok sighed in relief when he found himself with a plate of fried rice and kimchi.

Namjoon was the last to receive his meal. A plate stacked with mussels, lobster and shrimp. Seafood upon seafood. Namjoon pulled a face. "I'm so sorry," he said. "But this is not what I ordered. I don't want to be a bother, but could I please order something else? I don't like seafood."

The waiter's eyes widened and he stowed away the pen and paper in his hands. "I'm incredibly sorry, sir. Of course you can order again. We must've mixed something up. Let me take that away." He was about to reach across the table to take the plate when Jungkook grabbed his wrist mid-air. The waiter looked at him a bit confusedly. "Yes? Is something the matter?"

Jungkook let go and spluttered. "I'm sorry, it's just-" Jungkook fumbled for words. The little stutter would've been endearing in any other situation, but Jungkook's eyes shone with fear. Hoseok's heart clenched. "I'ts fine," Jungkook finally said. "Namjoon and I will just switch. We ordered the same thing and I like seafood. It's okay. You don't need to worry about it."

"It's no problem, sir," the waiter insisted. "I will bring each of you what you ordered in the first place."

"Please," Jungkook said. "I want to eat the seafood. It looks delicious."

"If you really want to?" The waiter still sounded unsure but drew back.

Jungkook nodded hastily. "I do. Thank you."

"A-Alright. I apologize again. Please enjoy your meal. Call me if you change your mind."

As the waiter disappeared to tend to other tables, Jungkook pointed at Namjoon's plate. "Come on," he said. "Let's switch."

Namjoon looked as confused as Hoseok felt. "Why do you want to switch so badly? I could've just ordered again. Are you sure you want the seafood?"

"Just give me the plate." There was a sharp edge to Jungkook's voice now, indicating he wouldn't back down. His next words were a lot more quiet. "I don't want to inconvenience the staff. They might get in trouble. Please just give me the plate and eat."

It dawned on Hoseok why Jungkook was so adamant about all of this. He remembered Seokjin's and Yoongi's words when they'd first talked about Jungkook. About how bad his hands had looked and about how loud his boss had been in the kitchen.

Hoseok swallowed. Nausea crawled up his throat.

Meanwhile, Namjoon had handed over his plate, now having a steak and noodles sitting in front of him. Jungkook smiled down at the seafood as if he had wanted it all along.

Maybe they could let this slide for now, as long as Jungkook still enjoyed the food. It would need to be discussed later, but Hoseok's number one priority was to spend a nice evening with his boyfriends and their date. The heavy stuff could wait for later. "Thank you," Hoseok said and smiled. "Namjoon really hates seafood. I'm sure he's very happy now."

Namjoon caught on and nodded his head frantically. "I am! Thank you, Jungkook. It is very considerate of you."

Jungkook's smile broadened. "No worries. It smells delicious. Thanks again for inviting me."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Hoseok saw Jimin send him a serious look.

Yes, they would need to discuss this. And, more importantly, do something about it.

After that, everyone dug into their foods.

Hoseok realized why Yoongi had looked at him as if he had two heads when he took the first bite of his dish.

Tears sprung to his eyes.

Shit.

It's too spicy.

Chapter Text

Jungkook's hand was smaller than Namjoon had anticipated. It was slender and elegant, but also delicate. Namjoon turned it around and let his eyes roam over each knuckle, taking in the little cuts and blisters. The cusps of Jungkook's fingers were red and bruised. One nail was split in the middle, slowly turning an ugly purple.

Namjoon sucked in air through his teeth. His esophagus closed up. "That doesn't look good." Frantically, he left featherlight touches on every injury, unsure on where to look or what to tend to first. When he spoke again, his voice was weak and hoarse. "Doesn't it hurt?"

Jungkook curled into himself, staring at his lap, shuffling his feet. Sitting like this in front of Namjoon, the yonger man looked like a child. A scolded child, a scared child. It pulled at Namjoon's heartstrings. He calmed himself to the best of his abilities and sighed, twisting his upper body to grab gauze and rubbing alcohol from the cupboard behind him.

After Jungkook had arrived at their flat the day after the dinner, new wounds littering his hands like color spots ranging from angry red to greenish-yellow, Namjoon had pulled him into their living room, demanding he sit down and let himself be patched up. Jungkook had been pliant and silent, biting his lips while his eyes had glazed over.

"I'm not mad at you," Namjoon clarified. He covered the back of Jungkook's hand in ointment. "Never. I'm just frustrated someone did this to you. That someone dared doing this to you."

It makes my blood boil.

"I don't really- it never really bothered me," Jungkook mumbled. Namjoon stopped his work, listening carefully. Jungkook fidgeted. "I knew it was wrong but… I can deal with it. It's not as if it's unbearable." His fingers trembled and Namjoon had to tighten his hold. "I need the job. I can't just- I need it."

"Well," Namjoon replied, voice dark and rumbling deep in his chest, "you're not going back." With more force than necessary, Namjoon wrapped Jungkook's hands in bandages, fastening them with a pin.

Jungkook's eyes widened. He pulled back his hands against his chest, the bandage on his left hand dangling freely. The pin had come undone at the sudden movement. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Snatching Jungkook's hand and adjusting the skewed bandage, Namjoon narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "I said you're not going back. You'll quit." He underlined his words with a hard tug on the bandage and a final pat to his knuckles.

Jungkook spluttered. His face reddened in indignation. His skin turned hot. "Did you hear what I said? I need this job!"

Namjoon leaned forward and said quietly, almost in a threatening manner, "You do not need a job like this. If you think we'll let you go back without a fight, you're gravely mistaken." His expression softened and Jungkook visibly relaxed. "Jungkook, what he did to you was so incredibly wrong. You cannot go back."

Jungkook stood and took a step back. His eyes darted left and right, searching Namjoon's face, but Namjoon didn't waver. "How am I supposed to pay my rent?" Jungkook asked. "My food?" His voice got louder and higher, panic lacing every word. "I need the money!"

Namjoon smiled. "Don't worry about such things, we're more than willing to pay for it until you find something new."

"Pay for it?" Jungkook's voice broke. "I'm not a charity case! I'm an adult man! I can look after myself!"

"We know you're not, and we know you're independent, but we like you and we want to do this. Please."

Suddenly, Jungkook's eyes got wet. Namjoon's heart sank. "I just- I don't know" - Jungkook's voice broke again and culminated in a rough sob - "I don't know, okay? It sucks!"

Namjoon got up from his chair and wrapped his arms around Jungkook's shaking frame. He pulled him closer, drawing circles on his back. "Everything will be okay. I promise. We'll handle it. Please accept our offer. Please. That's all we're asking for."

Sobbing harder, Jungkook nodded against his chest. Relief flooded every inch of Namjoon's body. He deflated like a balloon. "We can think about everything else later." He tightened his embrace, kissing the side of Jungkook's neck. "Thank you for trusting us."

Jimin tapped his foot. "When do you think we'll get to order our food? I mean, it's not as if I want to actually eat here, but the service is shit."

Hoseok snorted, slapping the back of Jimin's head palyfully. However, he caught himself quickly, smile slipping off of his face in an instant. Jimin could tell he was in 'lawyer-mode' and sighed. Sometimes, 'lawyer-mode' could be overbearing, but it had never failed to get them all out of hairy situations before. "Well," Hoseok drawled, "their best server is absent today, no wonder they're struggling. Though, it is rather pathetic, considering we're currently the only customers in the whole damn place."

It was Jimin's turn to laugh. The restaurant was positively deserted. One could have heard a pin drop if it weren't for the loud ventilation and the corny piano music warbling in the background.

When Sungho finally rounded the corner, Jimin was ready to break something or yell at someone. Either one was fine as long as the owner was the one suffering from it.

Sungho was balancing a tray on his right arm, though it didn't nearly look as elegant as when Jungkook had done it. Jungkook was grace personified while Sungho was clearly inexperienced with lacklustre gross motor skills. His disguruntlement was glaringly obvious, face screwed up and back hunched. His muscles were taut, fingers gripping the tray harshly.

"What do you wa-" he stopped. Recognition flashed in his eyes. "Oh, you're that guy who was with Jungkook last friday." Sungho set the tray onto the table and crossed his arms. A greasy smell wafted in Jimin's direction, no doubt coming from the stained shirt the owner was wearing. "The boy just disappeared without saying goodbye and then this morning he didn't show up for work and didn't answer my calls." His eyes narrowed and his voice dropped. "What did you do to him?"

Jimin bristled. "We? What did we do to him?" Hot rage boiled in his chest. He formed fists and set his jaw. "You're a funny one," he spat.

Hoseok held out a hand, signing Jimin to get a hold of himself. Taking a deep breath and sagging his shoulders, Jimin let Hoseok take the reins. His arms shook with the need to tackle Sungho to the ground, so he hugged himself tightly instead, focusing on the pattern of the table cloth in front of him.

"He won't be coming back," Hoseok explained calmly.

"Huh?"

"Jungkook is quitting," he clarified. "He'll hand in his resignation tomorrow."

Sungho scoffed. "Well, he has to tell me that himself. It's cowardly to send you to do it. How pathetic." He shook his head and sighed. "But then again, he's always been like this. Unbelievable."

"Actually," Hoseok pulled out his buisness card. It shone in the artificial light. "I am Jungkook's lawyer and am representing him in this affair. We don't think he's stable enough to revisit the place where traumatic events transpired. The strain would be too much." He narrowed his eyes to slits and pursed his lips. "Additionally, I advise you to refrain from talking about Jungkook like this. I can and will use it as evidence against you."

Sungho faltered."T-traumatic events? What are you talking about?" He frowned. "Use it against me? How? What are you implying?"

Hoseok stood, bracing himself on the edge of the table. There he went, being overbearing. But Jimin relished in the sight. "You're lucky Jungkook doesn't want to press charges against you," he spat. "Well, not yet, at least. We certainly want him to and are trying to convince him."

"Excuse me?"

"We know what you did to him." Hoseok pushed his chair back and walked around the table until he towered over Sungho like a mountain. The man paled and visibly gulped. He retreated. "And we do not appreciate it. Jungkook is precious to us and we will not tolerate any more ill behaviour towards him. If we ever see you near him again, we have other means to keep you far, far away from him, even without Jungkook's consent."

Sungho laughed, but there was no humour in it. "Should a lawyer really be threatening me? I don't think that's appropriate."

"I'm not threatening you. Not at all. I am letting you know that we're going to charge you with assault if you ever come near Jungkook again, even if he doesn't want to." He looked at Sungho condescendingly, a frigid smile playing around his lips. "Not everyone falls back on violence to solve problems. We're not like you."

"Even if I really want to punch you right now," Jimin added gratuitously.

Sungho's expression was pinched. His face was bright red. Metaphorical steam was coming out of his ears. "That's-"

"Do you understand me?" Hoseok interrupted. His glare was ice cold. Steady. Had it been directed at anyone else, Jimin would've felt sorry for them. But Sungho could turn to stone for all he cared.

Sungho gasped for air, struggled for words. The only sound he was able to produce was a pitiful burble. He nodded.

Hoseok smirked. "Good. Very good. All you need to do now is pray that Jungkook doesn't change his mind. Come on." He turned to Jimin and tugged at his sleeve. "Let's go. A cuddle session is waiting for us."

"Wow, what a change of topic," Jimin said. But he let himself be guided up and towards the entrance. He didn't spare Sungho another glance, satisified to know the man had been thouroughly intimidated. Why had Jimin come along again?

"I can't think about idiots for an extended period of time," Hoseok lamented, "it's bad for my health." He smiled. Genuinly, this time. "I'd rather think about a cute waiter."

Jimin laughed. "Well, I can't argue with that."

"Not to mention the food that's no doubt waiting for us," Hoseok added. "I'm sure Seokjin and Yoongi have started on dinner already."

A ridiculous idea shot through Jimin's head, but for some reason, he felt compelled to share it. "Jungkook seems to love his job. Why don't we open our own restaurant? Tae has said for a while now that he's bored."

Hoseok snorted. "As if Seokjin and Yoongi don't have twenty-three restaurants all across the globe."

"Well," Jimin said, "I meant like a family buisness, you know?"

"Really?" Hoseok mocked. "Then, what job would you want to do? If you start balancing plates everything will be broken within a week. And don't even get me started on Namjoon. Dear god."

"I'll be in the front of the house, of course. Greeting people. No one can resist my charm. Let Namjoon handle the finances."

"You know what? Fair enough. Now, if you find something for Tae, I might actually be on board with this."

Jimin waved his hand dismisseively. "Please, Tae could stand in a corner and look cute and that would be more than enough. That said, you know he's got that artistic talent. Let him design the menu and be in charge of interior design. He'll have a field day."

Suddenly, Hoseok stopped. "I cannot believe you just made that idea sound plausible. That's a talent in itself."

Jimin ran a hand through his hair and winked. "I'm a man of many talents."

"I know." Hoseok leaned down and kissed Jimin's forehead. "Bring it up at dinner. Maybe that's just the thing we all need." He slung an arm around Jimin's waist and pulled. "Now, let's go. We have five boyfriends to cuddle."

And boy, was Jimin ready to smother them all with hugs and kisses.

Jungkook as well.

Actually, yeah.

Especially him.

Chapter Text

Jungkook didn’t know what to do.

He stood in front of the kitchen door, eyes on the untouched plate in his hands, and didn’t know what to do.

Too salty, the woman had said. Jungkook thought the tomato soup smelled delicious. He’d eaten Seokjin’s and Yoongi’s meals every day since they’d gotten together and never had they messed up any part of it. Everything was cooked to perfection. Every piece of meat melted on his tongue, the pasta was al dente no matter what sauce accompanied it and any decoration they decided to garnish the plate with sat in its rightful place. Always.

Too salty.

The woman hadn’t been rude about it, had confessed her dislike with a polite smile and the reassurance that she’d like to try another dish. She’d used the softest voice possible while still being understood in a restaurant bustling with guests.

It wasn’t her.

Jungkook eyed the entrance to the kitchen, then the trashcan next to it. A cold shiver crawled up his back and settled at the base of his neck. He shuddered, trying too keep his hands from shaking too much. He caught sight of a fading scar on his wrist. A loud, raging voice boomed in his ear, and it took him a few seconds to realize he wouldn’t find the source by looking around.

He counted to three, taking deep breaths along with it.

As a good waiter, he should let the chef know that someone complained about the food. He should let Seokjin and Yoongi know so they could fix it. But the voice in his head didn’t disappear, only faded to a more bearable volume.

What are you afraid of? Jungkook asked himself.

He didn’t know. The idea of any of the two chefs yelling at him for returning a plate was laughable. Ridiculous. And yet a smidge of doubt remained lodged in the back of his mind. Because Sungho had never listened to him, had assumed Jungkook was at fault no matter what. Had screamed and fumed. Had hit him.

What if Seokjin and Yoongi reacted the same?

(What if it was his fault?)

What if -

“Hey.” Taehyung appeared at his side, slinging an arm around his waist. Instantly, Jungkook relaxed against his boyfriend. He exuded warmth and comfort, soothed Jungkook’s stretched nerves just by being present. The tremors in his hands subsided. It was a miracle he hadn’t dropped the plate yet.

Taehyung suited the white dress shirt and the black pants - but then again, what kind of clothes didn’t the man suit? After Seokjin and Yoongi had banished him from the kitchen infinitely, he’d proposed to help out as a waiter. Jungkook had been glad to pass on some of the work and responsibility to Taehyung. The guests loved the elder, and young women swarmed around him like bees around honey. On more than one occasion, Jungkook’d had to intervene and drag him away to the safety of the bar. His subsequent scolding about unprofessionalism was nothing more than thinly veiled jealousy. Jungkook knew, Taehyung knew - everyone knew.

“What are you doing, just standing there? I thought you’d fallen asleep.” The smile was evident in his voice.

“I- uh…” Jungkook shook his head softly, trying to get himself to focus on the present. The smell of tangy tomatoes entered his nose.

Right, the present. In which he still didn’t know what to do. Right.

“What’s wrong with that?” Taehyung pointed at the plate. “Confused orders?”

Jungkook’s mouth went dry. “It’s- I need to return it.”

For a few agonizing seconds, Taehyung remained impassive. Jungkook held his breath, waiting for the explosion to happen, for the pain to hit him. Anything. But then, understanding dawned on the elder’s face and he smiled. “Well, you better hurry then, because we’ve still got lots of guests to serve. Don’t leave me hanging, please.” With an encouraging pat to Jungkook’s back, Taehyung slid away, practiced customer-smile already stretching across his face.

Jungkook blinked.

His brain was in overdrive, trying to process the situation.

Taehyung hadn’t even seemed offended on his boyfriend’s behalf. He’d just accepted it, hadn’t blamed Jungkook for something he didn’t have any control over. But he also wasn’t the one who’d prepared the food, Jungkook reminded himself. His heart sank in his chest. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Taehyung guiding an older couple to a table by the window. Taehyung was right, there were a lot of customers.

Jungkook needed to man up and get it over with. The others needed his help.

If Seokjin and Yoongi got angry with him, he’d deal with it. He’d dealt with it in the past, hadn’t he?

With a huff of determination, Jungkook pushed open the door to the kitchen.

Immediately, a wave of heat and steam hit his face. The clatter of pans and cutlery filled the room, almost made him want to cover his ears. Flashes of broken glasses and droplets of blood - his blood - appeared in his mind. His confidence dwindled, positively plummeted and crashed on the floor. But it was too late to turn around and dispose of the food. Yoongi wriggled his way around the counters, drying his hands on the towel attached to his apron and approached him with a smile.

Jungkook stood in the middle of the kitchen like a stone figure, rooted to the spot by fear and dread.

He didn't know what to do, but he'd already established that.

“What’s the matter?” Yoongi asked, inspecting the soup in Jungkook’s hands. “Is something wrong with it?” He leaned in closer, as if the answer would be written in the red liquid somewhere. Jungkook wished it was, so he wouldn't need to spell it out for him. 

“It’s-” Jungkook’s voice broke. How was he supposed to phrase this? Should he lie? 

Yoongi arched his brows. “Yeah?” The man looked at him expectantly. There was nothing about him that indicated anger or disappointment. Maybe a little bit of impatience, the need to get back to work and not waste time staring at lukewarm tomato soup. 

Jungkook took a deep breath. No or never.

“It’stoosalty.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Jungkook clamped his lips. His heart was in his throat, almost painfully throbbing against his windpipe.

He’s going to scold me. He’s going to scream. He’s going to-

“Huh, really?” Yoongi turned around as if the words hadn’t affected him in the least, trudging over to the big pot in the corner of the room. Jungkook could only stare after him. Yoongi grabbed a spoon and filled it with soup. He blew on it once and stuck it into his mouth, tasting and swallowing with a neutral expression on his face. With a little head-tilt, Yoongi flung the spoon into a nearby sink.

Jungkook hadn’t moved from his spot. He doubted he’d even be able to, no matter what happened next. It was as if he'd lost control over his muscles. 

When Yoongi came back, Jungkook expected anything. A few choice words thrown his way, or a fist if the elder was especially pissed off. What he hadn’t expected was for Yoongi to take the plate from his hands and pour the soup down the drain.

“It’s very salty,” he said.

“H-Huh?”

Yoongi looked at him. Jungkook thought there was something hidden in that gaze, something Jungkook probably wasn’t supposed to detect. “I said it’s very salty.” When Jungkook remained unresponsive, his forehead creased with confusion, Yoongi grabbed both of his hands, bringing each of them up to his lips to press a kiss onto his knuckles. “Sorry for making you serve that. Must’ve been embarrassing.”

“I- no!” Jungkook said. He pulled his hands away and frowned. Yoongi took a surprised step back. “Why- Why are you so calm? Aren’t you mad?”

“Mad?” Yoongi asked. “Why would I be-” He stopped mid-sentence, his face falling. It was as if a switch had been flicked.

Jungkook froze as soon as he saw it. He’d done it. He’d pissed him off. Why did he have to look a gift horse in the mouth? Why did he have to question everything?

I am such an idiot.

Yoongi drew closer. Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

A touch on his elbow. Light enough that Jungkook would be able to pull away should he feel the need to, but strong enough to convey comfort. “I would never get mad at you for doing your job, Jungkook. None of us would.” Jungkook opened his eyes, finding Yoongi’s face a few inches away from his own. “You need to understand that the way Sungho treated you is wrong.” Yoongi narrowed his eyes and Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. The fire in those eyes burned him. He wanted to disappear. “It’s abuse, Jungkook.”

Abuse.

Was it?

Was it really?

“I… I’m sorry,” Jungkook said, for lack of a better response.

“Please don’t apologize.” Yoongi pulled him closer, wrapping strong arms around him. “It’s not your fault. We just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.” And he was. He’d never been happier in his life. Being surrounded by six doting boyfriends had that effect on him, surprisingly.

“But you’re scared,” Yoongi mumbled against his shoulder. “And I understand,” he added. “But we’d never treat you that way. I’d never-” Yoongi faltered. “I’d never hurt you, Jungkook.”

And deep down, Jungkook knew. He knew they would never throw things at him. They would never make him bleed. 

It would just take a while for his brain to catch up to that.

“It’s just hard,” Jungkook said. “To readjust.”

Yoongi hummed.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. He didn’t know for what exactly. For a lot of things, apparently. 

Yoongi lightly pinched the skin beneath his armpits, causing Jungkook to flinch and giggle. “Aish. I just said not to apologize, didn’t I?”

Jungkook closed his eyes and leaned in closer, breathing in the scent of oil clinging to Yoongi’s shirt. Like this, the angry voice in his head surrendered. He relaxed against Yoongi’s chest. “I love you. All of you.”

“And we love you too.”

For a while, they stayed like that, the beating of Yoongi’s heart drowning out the noise around them. Bit by bit, Jungkook was able to let the remnants of fear and anxiety bleed out of him. It left him with tired limbs and heavy eyelids, almost falling asleep where he stood in the middle of the kitchen.

“Do you want to go home?” Yoongi offered.

Jungkook shook his head. “Taehyung needs my help. I bet he’s looking for me already.” The image of a frantic hyung storming through the restaurant appeared in Jungkook’s mind. Yep, he couldn’t go home. Not if they wanted the restaurant to stay whole.

Chuckling, Yoongi loosened his embrace. His eyes crinkled. “Well then, go and save our TaeTae. He must be panicking. He’s not used to run the show on his own, after all.”

Jungkook nodded and glanced to the sink where the empty plate lay. “What about…?”

“I’ll make another batch of soup. Just let the customer know, please. It’ll take thirty minutes.”

“Got it.” Jungkook straightened his back and adjusted his fringe. Time to get back to work. 

Before Yoongi was able to turn around, Jungkook halted him with a hand on his shoulder. The older man stopped in his tracks and raised an inquisitive brow. “Hm?”

Jungkook smiled. “Thank you.”

Chapter Text

Jungkook stood at the cooker, knife in one hand and carrot in the other. His six lovely boyfriends had left the flat in the morning to go to work, while Jungkook stayed at home to cure his flu. Since he was feeling too fit to lie around the whole day, he'd promised to take care of dinner.

So far, so good.

The only problem was that Jungkook had absolutely no idea how to cook anything, let alone lasagna. In short, Jungkook was screwed.

Sceptically, Jungkook looked at the knife. Then at the carrot.

Wait.

Did... did he have to peel it?

“Shit.”

Hastily, he left the two items on the countertop and rummaged through the cutlery drawer. As he triumphantly pulled out the peeler, hope blossomed in his chest and a smile pulled at his lips.

He could do this. He had to peel and cut the carrot - and then everything else.

It couldn't be that difficult.

However, as he realized thirty minutes later, it was difficult.

Oh god, it was so difficult.

Jungkook was on the verge of throwing everything away and ordering take out. The kitchen floor was littered with onion peelings and a broken glass that had slipped from his hands, which continued to tremble in great nervousness. But he could clean up the mess later, his priority was the sizzling meat in the pan. Well, calling it meat would be generous. It was more like the charcoal that lay in the grill outside. Black and burnt and fuming.

Jungkook opened the red wine and tried to drown his mishap in alcohol. For a moment, the smoke intensified, and Jungkook thought he'd actually set the kitchen on fire. When the fume dissipated, he lifted the bottle and inspected his handiwork. He frowned and added more. The more, the merrier. Right?

... Right?!

Jungkook buried his face in his hands and sighed.

What now? The tomatoes? Jungkook nodded. The tomatoes. Canned tomatoes, to be exact. Finally something Jungkook was familiar with. He reached for the can opener and got to work.

He had no idea how many tomatoes to add, since he had at least doubled the amount given for the wine. Shrugging his shoulders, he threw the entire contents of the can into the pan. He had reached a point of complete indifference.

But the worst was yet to come.

The cheese sauce.

Jungkook didn't even want to think about it.

He would just follow the recipe exactly, he resolved. Step by step. No personal interpretations. Just the recipe from A to Z.

Jungkook grabbed a small pan, the butter, the flour and the grated cheese.

Okay, he thought. Take it easy. You'll get it right.

“Melt the butter over low heat.” Jungkook nodded resolutely. “I can do that. No problem. Absolutely no problem.”

Jungkook never let the pan out of his sight, taking great care not to miss the right moment. When the butter had melted completely, he added the specified amount of flour and poured in the milk. And then he began to stir like a madman. After all, it had said: 'stirring constantly'. And who was he to disagree with the recipe?

Slowly, the sauce became thicker and smoother. Jungkook couldn't help smiling proudly. He was doing such a good job. Who would have thought? He tried not to think about the meat sauce.

All that was left was adding the cheese, putting everything together and letting it bake in the oven.

And Jungkook did just that, closing the oven with more force than necessary.

He was just glad it was over.

Done.

Finito.

He would never step a foot into the kitchen again.

Yoongi and Seokjin came home first. The two fell through the front door, as exhausted as if they had run a marathon. Jungkook offered them a hug, pulling them in for a kiss. He could well understand their fatigue. Even working as a waiter stretched Jungkook to the limit. Less now that his employers were supportive rather than irritable, but still, he couldn’t even imagine the stress of being responsible for the kitchen.

After Yoongi and Seokjin had had a seat at the table, Jungkook learned that the other four would stay for a while to clean everything up. They had sent the two cooks home to check on Jungkook and had asked them they to already eat without them. Jungkook appreciated that he was always thought of, but did not understand why the two top chefs, of all people, would have to eat his failed lasagna. Why them? Why not Taehyung (no offence to him) or Namjoon (no offence to him either).

Fate really did not mean well for him.

Alas, Jungkook went to get the casserole dish. It didn’t smell bad per se, but knowing what it looked like under the aluminium foil made his heart drop to his stomach.

Jungkook placed the dish in the middle of the table and looked at it with narrowed eyes and a scrunched up nose.

Was it too late to throw the whole thing out the window? To flee the country and change his identity?

“Why are you so shaky? Are you not feeling well?” Seokjin put a hand on Jungkook's forehead and furrowed his brows. "Honey, you're still so hot..."

“Oh, come on,” Jungkook said, ducking away. “I'm fine. I just stood in the kitchen for about two hours and I'm a little nervous.”

“Nervous?”

Jungkook wrung his hands. “Well, I've never cooked anything for you before. I'm not really good at cooking either and-”

Yoongi waved a hand dismissively. “Don't worry about it. It smells really good.”

Twisting his mouth, Jungkook grumbled, “Don’t speak too soon.” He dropped his shoulders and sighed. “Well, bon appétit, I guess. Whatever.”

Jungkook lifted the aluminium foil, revealing… a lot of melted cheese. Just cheese. Which wasn’t bad, but it didn’t prepare Yoongi and Seokjin for what lay beneath. Not in the slightest.

“Your plate?” Jungkook stretched out his hand. He really didn’t want to serve this. But he couldn’t let his boyfriends go to bed hungry, couldn’t he?

Yoongi handed him the plate with a smile. Oh, blissful ignorance.

After taking care of Seokjin’s portion and his own, Jungkook sat down and stared at the steaming blob of red and white. “Do- Do you really want to eat this?”

Raising a brow, Seokjin loaded his fork. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“It sucks.”

“Have you tried it?”

“… No.”

Seokjin smirked, as if to say ‘see?’ and lifted the fork to his mouth.

Jungkook held his breath.

He thought his heart might have stopped too, for a moment.

But Seokjin showed no sign of approval or disapproval. He just ate. Which did nothing to alleviate the terror rippling through Jungkook's body.

When Jungkook realized he might have been staring at Seokjin for too long, he diverted his attention to Yoongi. But the younger chef wore the exact same, neutral expression.

Finally, Seokjin swallowed the food ( a good sign?) and cleared his throat. Jungkook almost jumped out of his skin at the sound. Because that was definitely a bad sign. “Honey, uhm, I don’t know how to say this…” Seokjin moved the lasagna around with his knife, inspecting it thoroughly.

Here it comes, Jungkook thought. They hate it. Oh my god. They had a long day at work and can’t even eat a good meal.

“There’s no pasta in it.”

Blinking in confusion, Jungkook tilted his head. “Huh?”

“There’s no… pasta in the lasagna. It’s just meat sauce and cheese sauce.”

Yoongi lifted the layer of melted cheese up with his fork and laughed quietly at the sight that greeted him. “He’s right, darling. You seem to have forgotten to add the pasta.”

Mind racing, Jungkook thought back. He’d made the meat sauce (well, he tried), made the cheese sauce, and…

His eyes widened.

No pasta.

Red bloomed on his cheeks.

Oh. My. God.

Oh my fucking god, just kill me. I served two world-class chefs lasagna without pasta!

“I’m so sorry!” Jungkook sprung from his chair. The noise of it scraping against the floor made the two older men flinch in surprise. They looked at their boyfriend with confusion written all over their faces. Jungkook’s hands shook as he frantically reached for the still full plates. “I’m- I’m going to order you some food. Oh my god, this is so embarrassing, I’m so sorry-!”

Something wet ran down his cheeks.

Great. He was crying. On top of it all, he was ruining the mood by being a big baby. What else was new?

“I’m sorry!” he repeated. He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t even know why he was crying. From embarrassment? Shame? Anger? Fear? He didn’t know.

He’d been with them long enough to know they would never hurt him, but he could still disappoint them. God, how disappointing must it be for them to have such a failure as a boyfriend? A boyfriend who couldn’t even cook them dinner!

“Hey, woah,” Yoongi grabbed his wrist and pushed it away from his plate as if he wanted to protect it. Which was a ridiculous thought, because the food on it was not worthy of protection. It was worthy of landing in the trash can, that’s what it was. But Yoongi seemed hell-bent on making him think otherwise. “It’s still good, we’re going to eat it.”

“It’s good? It’s basically a really fucked up meat and cheese soup! At best!” Jungkook knew he was painting a pathetic picture, cheeks red and wet, chest heaving and voice cracking.

At that, Seokjin burst out laughing.

Jungkook looked at him, scandalized. The shock was enough to stop the flow of his tears. “Oh, that’s funny to you? I’m mortified, for fucks sake!”

“It’s just-” Seokjin tried catching his breath. “What you just said about the soup-”

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

Before new tears were able to fall, Yoongi spoke up. “It might not have any pasta, but it’s still delicious.”

“The meat is burnt,” Jungkook protested. “How can that be delicious?”

“The taste is still good.”

Jungkook stomped his foot, frustrated. “Why are you being so generous? You rip people apart for overcooking a shrimp.”

Shrugging, Yoongi sat back down and reached for the spoon. The spoon. Jungkook wanted the ground to swallow him. “Well, those are professional chefs,” Yoongi explained. “You’re a beginner, and a damn cute one at that. Beginners are allowed to make mistakes. You did your best and made it with love, that’s the most important thing. You’re also our boyfriend. I would eat a contaminated piece of chicken if it meant making you happy.”

When Seokjin followed Yoongi’s example and continued eating, Jungkook knew he had lost. They were going to eat his shameful attempt at lasagne and he would have to as well.

Wonderful.

“It’s actually good, though. You did a nice job with the spices,” Seokjin mused.

“Truly,” Yoongi agreed.

Jungkook groaned. “Can we stop?”

Seokjin pointed his knife in the direction of the casserole dish. “Let’s put the rest away for tomorrow.”

“Let’s not,” Jungkook begged.

Yoongi, however, nodded seriously. “Yep. Tomorrow’s dinner is settled.”

As the two went on to discuss what supplement to serve tomorrow, because they couldn’t eat kind-of-soup-but-not-really two days in a row, Jungkook tried to tune out their voices.

He buried his face in his arms and wallowed in in self-pity, appetite all but gone.

He was an idiot.

A useless idiot.

Yep.

But he was a useless idiot with six lovely, supportive boyfriends.

He smiled.

And if they’d let him, he’d cook for them over and over and over again, until he actually managed to create something presentable.