EAT/JIKOOK.

twenty eighth.

"hey, hyung!" jimin exclaimed as he walked in to the kitchen of the restaurant, putting his coat away and kissing seokjin's cheek. he ran to check for any new orders, and gladly started preparing an indian style curry.

seokjin smiled and looked at jimin with a slightly puzzled look. he stirred the soup slightly before setting down the spoon and going to look for a dish. "somebody's in a good mood, huh?"

jimin shrugged, letting a smile paint itself onto his face. "yeah, i guess so."

"any reason?" seokjin asked as he spooned the hot soup into the bowl, sprinkling chopped coriander onto the top.

the younger thought to himself, about anything that could make him happy. there was a certain brown-haired boy that kept popping up in his mind, but seokjin didn't need to know that.

"i'm not sure," he says. "but it's weird. i haven't felt this happy in a while."

seokjin smiled and continued to stir the soup he was making, and began ladling it into the bowl. "don't think too hard, then. just let yourself enjoy it."

jimin gives a "yup!"  in response, humming to himself as he practically spins around the kitchen while cooking.

seokjin knows that the younger's appointment was the next day, but decided against bringing it up, as to let the younger enjoy his (rare) happy mood.

until it was gone.

it wasn't sudden at all, in fact it wasn't even noticeable. first jimin stopped humming, then the spring in his step disappeared. he became less talkative, and when he finally had a lull in his orders, he couldn't do anything but stare sadly with dazed eyes.

seokjin sighed, putting his now clean pot into the cabinet. "what's the matter, jimin?"

the other hums. "just thinking."

"about..? nothing..bad, right?" he asks tentatively.

"no..i don't think so." jimin takes a sip of the water he poured for himself, downing it all in one go.

in jimin's mind, he was trying to get over what jungkook has called him the other day.

baby.

stupid, right? it made him feel so safe and relaxed and he wanted nothing more than to curl into jungkook's arms and lie their forever— but instead of like seokjin, who made him feel like he was loved, jungkook made him feel like he was needed. but not in..friendly ways.

and that terrified him.

***

at home, jimin sat on the sofa, with a box of chocolates. he had bought it in his way home, and he wasn't sure why, but he was waiting for jungkook to come home to share them. jimin he had even cooked dinner, for no particular reason— except maybe as a thank you.

it was nearing eight o'clock, and jimin was beginning to get nervous for him, and decided to give him a call.

the younger had picked up on the third ring. "hello?"

"h hey, kook.." his head seemed to float, as his lips trembled. "uhm..are you coming home soon?"

"oh, i meant to text you, i went out with an old friend from the agency," jungkook explains. "we went out to lunch, don't wait up for me, okay?"

the air seemed to be sucked out of his lungs, and for some reason jimin felt as if he was gonna be sick. "yeah.. of course. you..have your key?"

"yup! make sure to eat something. see you tomorrow, hyung!" and the call ended.

jimin stares at his phone for a while, trying to register his feelings. he wasn't quite sure what he was feeling— but the choked feeling rose in his throat quickly and he didn't care anymore— just let himself cry into the couch pillows, clutching onto them as if they were his lifeline.

it wasn't the usual harsh sobs that hurt his chest— his cries were softer, less painful. a pout was prominent on his lips and his eyes were shut only because he felt there was no reason to open them.

eventually, he let his heavy eyes fall shut, his breathing evening out as his mind was whisked away into a world without jealousy coursing through his veins, sending aches in his heart.

and only an hour later, a similar ache shot through jungkook's heart— not of jealousy but of guilt, as he came home to the small boy with dried tear tracks on his cheeks, a cushion hugged to his chest and box of chocolates clutched in his hand.