Taste Of Algorithm Jinkook/Kookjin story

Coincidence

Rage, pure and hot, flooded Jin's veins. This was his place. His kingdom.

"Get out," Jin said, his voice low and dangerous.

The kitchen went quiet. The cooks froze.

Jungkook didn't move. His eyes scanned the room. "The sear on those mushrooms is inconsistent," he stated, calm as anything. "The pan is overcrowded. You're steaming them, not caramelizing them."

The criticism, so accurate, delivered here in his sanctuary, was the last straw. Jin slammed his tongs down. "Get. Out. Of. My. Kitchen."

Jungkook took a step inside. "It's a simple fix. Use fewer mushrooms. Keep the heat high. The result will be optimal."

"I don't want your optimal!" Jin roared, stepping closer. The staff stared. "I don't want your critiques or your paintings or your damn risotto! I want you to leave me alone!"

He was right in front of him now, jabbing a finger in the air. Jungkook didn't flinch.

"You're emotional. It's affecting your work."

"My work?" Jin laughed, a sharp, broken sound. "My work is the only thing you haven't bought! The only thing that's still mine! And you walk in here and you—"

"It is yours," Jungkook agreed, his voice dropping, becoming soft and intimate. "It is the most brilliant thing I have ever seen. And you are ruining it with pride."

He reached out and picked up the tongs Jin had thrown down. His fingers brushed Jin's hand. The touch was electric. Jin jerked back. "Don't touch me."

Jungkook ignored him. He turned to the pan and calmly removed half the mushrooms, spreading the rest out. The sizzle grew loud and proper. The smell got deep and nutty. Perfect.

"See?" Jungkook said, not looking at him. "A simple adjustment."

The arrogance. The violation. The fact that he was right. It broke something in Jin. He grabbed Jungkook's arm, spinning him around. "I said get out!" he snarled.

They stood there, frozen. Jin breathing hard, face flushed. Jungkook perfectly still, dark eyes burning into him.

Then, Jungkook moved.

It wasn't a fight. It was a takeover. His free hand came up and grasped the back of Jin's neck. The other gripped his waist. The hold was firm, undeniable, pulling Jin closer.

Jin gasped, his anger vanishing into shock. He could feel the heat of Jungkook's body.

"You want me to leave?" Jungkook's voice was a low, rough whisper. "Then stop giving me reasons to stay. Stop texting me. Stop using my knife. Stop tasting my food on your tongue at night."

His thumb stroked Jin's neck. Jin shuddered, his grip going slack. He was paralyzed.

"You are an equation I cannot solve," Jungkook murmured, his face so close. "A variable that changes every time I look away. It is... maddening."

He leaned in. Jin's eyes fluttered shut. He expected a hard kiss. A demand.

It didn't come.

Instead, he felt Jungkook's lips, shockingly soft, brush against his own. It wasn't a kiss of passion. It was a brand. A claim. The softness moved to his ear, his jaw, his neck.

Jin's knees went weak. A silent gasp escaped him.

Jungkook held him there for a heartbeat, his lips lingering. Then he let go and stepped back like nothing happened.

"The mushrooms are burning," he said, his voice cool and detached.

He turned and walked out.

Jin stood there, alone in the steam and noise of Jin Eatries, a trembling hand pressed to his neck where Jungkook's lips had burned him.