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Chapter Text

Jungkook is having an awful week and that goes to show when it's only Tuesday. The number of pretentious, pompous, ignorant – excuse Jungkook’s vulgar language – assholes he’s dealt with has effectively ruined his mood for the remainder of the week. It seems the small, quaint bakery he runs has somehow become a magnet for misfortune.

Now, Jungkook would say he’s an overall cool, calm and collected man. Except when it comes to his bakery and pastries, Jungkook can be a little protective. His childhood had been filled with freshly baked cookies, muffins hot from the oven and breads of all shapes and sizes. Ever since he could lift a spoon, Jungkook had loved baking with his parents, whether it was making a mess of the flour or adding too much sugar instead of using his father’s perfectly measured proportions.

But it’s always been more than just baking. It’s how his parents love, it’s how Jungkook loves. A slice of cake on a bad day, a crème caramel to combat his tiredness, several profiteroles shoved in his mouth when he’s peeved and when he thinks his parents aren’t looking otherwise his mother will scold him for being hasty.

Jungkook loves to give, loves to share his creations with anyone and everyone who’s willing to try.

Unless, of course, in these cases where the customer is impudent, condescending and definitely in the wrong.

It starts like this. On Monday, half an hour prior to closing, a man donned in an expensive tan suit had all but marched into Jungkook’s bakery. His prim dress shoes had clicked against the wooden floorboards as he crossed the small store. The man had been if not just a tad overdressed for the occasion of purchasing some pastries and Jungkook couldn’t help musing over how out of place he’d looked.

With a grim, almost bored expression on his face, the man waved a hand and demanded to buy all the remaining cinnamon donuts in the store. The order had garnered many unwanted stares from lingering customers so Jungkook quickly slapped on a smile and nodded at the request.

“Of course, Sir,” Jungkook had murmured as he moved to the sweets display. “Would you like anything else for today? Our new raspberry and lychee cakes have been very popular.”

The man’s sharp eyes appeared more irritated as they zeroed in on Jungkook.

“Had I needed anything else, you would have known already,” the man snapped.

Slightly taken aback, Jungkook had paused where he’d been neatly lining up the cinnamon donuts into a small, cream-coloured box. A passing thought of ‘entitled, rich people’ crossed his mind before he swiftly brushed it away with a smile. He’d almost, almost, rolled his eyes but years of working hospitality had evidently increased his resistance to ill-mannered beings.

Impatiently, the man glanced at his watch before turning the disgruntled frown to Jungkook. With nothing more than another forced smile, Jungkook returned to boxing the donuts. From the corner of his eye, he’d watched the man straighten his vest before the hands flew up to adjust his dusky blue tie. The remaining customers had finally emptied the bakery and as the shop quietened, Jungkook realised the man was muttering to himself.

“–don’t know why he likes these measly donuts,” the man grumbled. “You would think someone of his class would have a more exquisite palate.”

“Have you tried the donuts?” Jungkook couldn’t refrain from asking. The man paused and another frown pushed through his blank expression.

“Why would I have?” he grumbles.

“Then why do you speak as though they’re not good enough for you?”

He’d abandoned his task in favour of leaning against the counter, arms crossed defensively. The man only narrowed his eyes further as if he were talking to a pesky child. Both of his hands were tucked into his pant pockets, a stark image of disinterest.

Annoyance bubbled at the back of Jungkook’s mind.

“Child, you have such little knowledge of the delicacies of this world. This is considered but a mere ball of cooked flour, if I were to put it nicely.”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. In the three years he’d taken over the bakery from his parents, he’d made quite a name for himself in their district. To hear this stranger lambast his goods was more or less like a stab to his heart.

The man irked him and he wasn’t below being petty.

“Are you… are you seriously pouting?” the man huffed. “Can you just- wait- what are you doing?”

“Refusing to serve you,” Jungkook stated as he placed the donuts back into the display.

“You can’t refuse to serve me.”

“I would think a man of your class could read,” Jungkook snarked and then pointed to the sign below the menu. One side of his lip was quirked as he read, “We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone.”

Jungkook had never discriminated against his customers. The thing was, his little bakery just happened to sit between the split nations, the Kims and the Jungs. The area in which his district lay was altogether ambiguous. After all, the border had yet to be precisely defined. Jungkook had never refused to serve anyone, whether it be the nation they’re from, their age, gender identity, sexual orientation or race.

But now faced with a customer who was nothing short of rude, Jungkook decided for the first time that no, the man didn’t deserve his hard work.

Said man, now stumped and snide remarks lost for the first time since entering the bakery, stared incredulously at Jungkook. In return, he had only glared back and if anyone asked, he was definitely not pouting.

With time to finally appraise him, Jungkook realised that the well-dressed stranger was a little shorter and probably a little older than him. His black hair had been styled to show a small portion of his forehead. Silver earrings hung from both earlobes and they swayed with the man’s movements. There was such menacing coldness in his features, Jungkook wondered if he ever smiled.

“You’re really not going to sell me those donuts?”

“I don’t need or want your business.”

“They’re even not for me,” the man huffed like it would change Jungkook’s mind. “My partner likes your balls of cooked flour.”

“Keep calling it that and I’ll refuse to serve your partner too.”

“Okay- let’s just–” the man paused to exhale heavily. Jungkook felt a slight pang of sympathy because the man’s eyes were encircled by fatigue but then he opened his mouth and the next words were, “I really need those donuts, alright? Come, I’ll pay you more. Maybe you could even upscale this place.”

Jungkook had sworn several veins in his forehead burst when the man proceeded to pull out his wallet. Jungkook stalked to the counter where a black credit card had been obnoxiously laid out. With restraint Jungkook didn’t even know he possessed, he gripped the card, slid it back across the counter and lowered himself over the cash register.

“Get out,” Jungkook ordered. Embarrassment and indignation took over the man all at once as he, too, leaned forward.

“Child, you do not seem to know who I am but I’m warning you, it would be in your best interest to not offend me.”

“I think it’s far too late for that,” Jungkook huffed. He straightened himself and returned to tidying up his display. “Get out of my shop and tell your partner to find some other place that sells better balls of cooked flour, maybe ones to your ‘exquisite palate’.”

The man had in the meantime snatched his card up and angrily crammed it back into his wallet. He’d turned, as if to leave, but with a fleeting thought, swivelled around to face Jungkook again.

“Proletariats. Such pride,” the man said.

“Bourgeois. Such arrogance.”

Jungkook watched as the man’s eyebrow twitched beneath his fringe but before he could retaliate, another pair of customers entered the bakery. The snarl building at the back of his throat tapered off into a grunt. With one last glare, the man spun and exited the bakery, aggression following his footsteps.

A cinnamon donut rested in between the plastic tongs in Jungkook’s hand as he’d drilled holes into the back of the man’s head. He’d seriously considered pegging the donut at the man, just to spite him and for Jungkook’s own amusement. He had managed to refrain, only because it’d be a waste of food, not because he’d been afraid of the man’s threats.

His anger was curbing now that the man’s irritating presence was gone. With a pout, he shovelled the donut into his mouth, chewing with more aggression than needed. The taste that met his tongue was splendid and Jungkook gave himself a congratulatory pat on his shoulder. The man didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Balls of cooked flour, my ass,” Jungkook huffed.

And as if his Monday wasn’t awful enough, on Tuesday morning, conceited pricks number two, three and four had shown up.

It was only seven and Jungkook had just finished his new batch of croissants. He’d been transferring them from the cooling racks to their displays when a man, tall and elegant, led an entourage into Jungkook’s small bakery. He was dressed in a suit, the burgundy blazer hanging off his shoulders. Upon scrutinisation, Jungkook realised the man was no doubt covered from head to toe in money. There was a thin chain over his black turtleneck, glinting metal of a watch peeking past the sleeve and a simple gold band around his thumb. The man’s face, structured so perfectly Jungkook felt his breath leave him for a minute, bore an overwhelming amount of confidence.  

Two younger men stood behind the head of the group. They were both dressed impeccably in their own coloured suits, the shorter in black pinstripes and the taller in beige. If Jungkook had seen them on the street, he’d have thought they were straight out of a fashion show. With how good-looking all three were, it might even be possible that they were celebrities. It was just a shame Jungkook never kept up with the news.

“Good morning,” Jungkook greeted dutifully. He dusted his hands on his aprons and approached the head of the group. The suited bodyguards tensed up as he neared them but Jungkook only crossed his hands in front of him before bowing. “How can I help you today?”

“Is this the only bakery in this district?” the man asked in lieu of a proper greeting.

“Yes, Sir. We’re a small district.”

The man nodded, though when Jungkook peered closer, he could almost discern a hypercritical look on the customer’s face. He was inspecting the small service area, taking in the currently half empty sweets display and the abundant assortment of breads that Jungkook was rather proud of. The residents of his district had a habit of dropping by his store in the mornings to purchase their breakfast before they made their ways to work.

“Were you looking for anything in particular today? The bread rolls, bagels, croissants and buns here have just been freshly baked,” Jungkook smiled. The man hummed as he stepped forward, brushing past Jungkook without another word to head over to the products.

“We’ll just have a look around. You can go back to what you were doing. We’ll call you if we need help,” piped in the man in the pinstripe suit. He had a sweet voice, like it’d been freshened with vanilla and caramel, a mix that could make Jungkook melt on the spot. He sent the man a grateful smile for the answer.

“Of course.”

Jungkook walked back behind the counter and busied himself with organising his planner for the day. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out the pinstripe suited man lean in to whisper something to the stoic faced man on his left. They both quirked a smile before ambling over to join the man perusing the breads.

“Hyung, what are you planning to get?” the shorter man asked.

“I’m not quite sure I’ll be able to stomach these. Look at them.”

The man hadn’t even bothered to lower his voice and every fibre in Jungkook’s body pulled taut. He felt the man in pinstripes glance back quickly so he kept his head down, pretending to write in his notebook. His ears burned and he had to bite his bottom lip to keep his mix of hurt and irritation inside.

“Hyung, why don’t you just get something small like the bun? You haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“Jimin-ah, if these are buns, then I’m a potato.”

Perhaps you are, Jungkook thought.

“Hyung, what about these?” the last man asked. His voice was the complete opposite of Jimin’s, low in timbre and almost a rumble. He was pointing to the condensed milk bread that Jungkook loved as a kid and would consume to the point where he never wanted to see condensed milk again.

“I’m afraid sweet foods have not been faring well with my delicate skin lately.”

Jungkook’s little huff luckily went unheard by the customers. He could feel his resolve wavering and in a desperate attempt to not offend another influential being after the day he had yesterday, Jungkook escaped into the kitchen to check on his white chocolate scones. They’d been cooling on their racks for an hour now and were ready to be brought out to their display. Jungkook took several deep breaths to cool his budding annoyance before heading to the service area with the tray.

The three men were still gathered around the bread products and Jungkook silently willed for them to leave. He felt them and their bodyguards tense up again when he neared their area but he merely smiled and busied himself with setting the scones down in their place. Jungkook tried to tune out their conversation but as he was fixing the tag in front of the scones, he just couldn’t let one of the comments go unheard.

“It would not look good if I were to get sick in front of Jung,” the man had sighed.

“Unless I accidentally added rat poison into the bread, I think you’ll be fine.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve had many people eat my food and they’re all still alive,” Jungkook shrugged as he slid the glass cabinet shut. “If you’re not here to buy anything, then please see yourself out.”

The one called Jimin frowned and stepped forward to put himself between Jungkook and the maroon suited man.

“How dare you speak to him like that?” Jimin asked. For a man of his height, he was uncharacteristically intimidating without the softness in his features. His voice too, so different to the soft lilt from before, had turned stiff.

Jungkook took a step back when the bodyguards repositioned themselves closer to the trio. He may be stupidly outspoken but he wasn’t suicidal. With a sigh, he crossed his arms.

“I’m just saying. Since you’ve come into the store, all you’ve done is criticise my products without having tried any of them. Even if you wanted to buy something, I don’t want to sell it to you anymore.”

The frown on Jimin’s face flickered uncertainly, likely because Jungkook was for sure pouting, but as he opened his mouth to respond, the man in maroon strolled forward. He had one hand tucked into his slacks and Jungkook wanted nothing more than to wipe the supercilious smile off his face.

“Do you know who I am?” the man asked. When Jungkook shook his head, the man let out a noise of disbelief. “You’re aware, then, that I can have this place destroyed with just one flick of my finger?”

A twinge of fear crossed Jungkook, not because he was afraid his own safety but fear for the bakery. It had been built up by his mother and father and if Jungkook were the reason it was demolished, how would he face his parents again?

His eyes darted to the bodyguards. Even though they hadn’t moved an inch, Jungkook still eyed them cautiously.

When his gaze returned to the maroon suited man, there was a dangerous kind of smirk on his face that sparked a fire behind Jungkook’s heart.

“Yes, darling, I hold power you dare not even dream of,” the man sighed. It was condescending, his attitude, his words, even his slightly lifted eyebrow.

Jungkook’s fists clenched by his side and he was certain his eyes wore every one of his emotions. Despite the apprehension Jungkook felt, he couldn’t help the words that spilled off the tip of his tongue.

“For someone with such a pretty face, you sure have an ugly personality.”

Maybe, his impulsiveness could be linked to the way the two men behind the leader had looked slightly uneasy. Jimin, for what it was worth, seemed like he wanted to step in between them to mitigate the heightening tension.

At Jungkook’s words, all attention whipped to him in shock. The man at the centre’s frown grew stormy and his face reddened with the built-up rage. But the temper left just as quickly as it had come and Jungkook found himself, once again, staring at the contemptuous smirk from before.

“You seem like you no longer wish to keep your poor excuse of a bakery,” the man hummed like he were talking about the weather.

“Do what you will. If you wanted to destroy my bakery, a commoner like me wouldn’t be able to stop you anyway.”

Jungkook turned away to head back to the counter. He had a list of things he needed to get done before the rush of people and he didn’t have time to indulge this man and his subordinates.

“You don’t care about your store?” the man asked, miffed.

Jungkook fought to keep an impassive look on his face as he stared back at the stranger but knowing himself, it was highly unlikely. The man, though, didn’t seem to take notice of the hurt, the indignation, the wariness in Jungkook’s eyes. Instead, he grimaced at the cream coloured walls with a dispassionate expression.

“Well, since you hold your store in such low regards, it’s certainly not worth my time and effort. Considering how lacklustre this place is, I’m sure it’ll close on its own soon.”

Jungkook blinked quickly, anger now spiking and fighting through the rest of his muddled emotions. The bakery held his parents’ blood, sweat and tears. How dare this man speak so insultingly?

“Hyung,” the man in the beige spoke. “We should be on our way. It won’t look good if we’re late.”

“You’re right. We have more important matters to tend to.”

With one last glower his way, the maroon suited man swept out of his bakery with his entourage in tow. Jungkook rested his hands on the counter, closed his eyes and exhaled shakily. He wasn’t going to let the man get to him. He wasn’t going to let the man get to him. He wasn’t going to let the man get to him. He had heard far too many positive acclamations about his bakery, about his products to let a few snide comments ruin his confidence. It shouldn’t matter that this man of no significance looked down on him.

Jungkook puffed his cheeks and, with renewed spirit, stood up straight only to come face to face with Jimin. He was still standing by the bread displays but all his confidence had seeped away. Jungkook didn’t know what the man wanted but he didn’t really care either.

Raising his chin, Jungkook glared down at Jimin until the man’s shoulders drooped in defeat. A sigh left Jimin before he finally followed the rest of his companions out of the bakery. When the door had swung shut behind him, Jungkook let himself drop down into a low crouch. He considered closing down the store early today and taking a break. Cautiously, Jungkook glanced to the entrance of the bakery and wondered how many more disasters will come his way, how many more before he does something he couldn’t take back.

In his quiet bakery, Jungkook let out a strangled groan. Ruffling his hair in a self-comforting gesture, Jungkook stalked over to the scones and shovelled one into his mouth.

He could still smell the whiffs of the man’s expensive cologne and it set him into an even worse mood.

Needless to say, Jungkook has been having a terrible week.

♕

Yoongi is dead. So dead.

It’s not like he had knocked over Namjoon’s newly grown bonsai on purpose. He knows how much his youngest lover treasures his plants, their green filled palace is a testament of such, but he’d been sleepy and not watching where he was going. It had happened in all of three of the longest seconds of Yoongi’s life. He had then sat for another long and silent twenty as the severity of his accident sank in.

Yoong needs to fix this. Yoongi can fix this. He steels his mind and begins to identify the pieces that are still salvageable. He’d recently watched a video on the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery, kintsukuroi. Perhaps he can get it all together before Namjoon even realises what Yoongi had done. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

“Uh oh,” comes a hoarse voice across the hall. Hoseok, freshly woken and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, stands frozen as he views the mess on the floor.

“I know, I know,” Yoongi grunts.

“Is that Ori?” Hoseok asks, having moved to stand beside Yoongi.

“Stall him,” Yoongi pleads as he continues to pick up the shattered pieces of the pot. Soil is scattered over the previously pristine floor and Yoongi hastily gathers it into a small pile. Hoseok opens his mouth to argue but then Yoongi turns pleading eyes to him. “Hoseok-ah, please. If you don’t want to see my early death, please keep Namjoon inside until I fix this.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. They both know their gentle, youngest lover would only ignore Yoongi for several days at most. It had happened once when Yoongi had offhandedly made a passing comment about Namjoon’s first attempt at building a terrarium. Yoongi had never seen his lover so upset before and vowed it to be the last time.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Hoseok shrugs.

“I’m sure you have several ways. You know he loves it when you’re a little assertive,” Yoongi mumbles absentmindedly. Hoseok snorts as he begins to retreat back to their shared bedroom.

“Like you don’t.”

Yoongi doesn’t have the mind to react as he calls over several staff members to help him rid the evidence of his crime. He’s carefully placing the beginnings of the bonsai tree onto the cart one of the cleaners had wheeled over when he hears his lovers’ voices behind him.

“Hoseok-ah, what has gotten into you today?” Namjoon huffs. “Why can I not go this way? You’re acting suspicious.”

“Love, I just want to spend more time with you before I have to attend to my duties.”

There’s no way Namjoon and his quick-witted brain would fall for that but Yoongi commends Hoseok for the effort. He can already see the following events play out in front of him, Namjoon pushing past Hoseok, their king conceding defeat, Namjoon witnessing the remains of Yoongi’s brutal murder, Namjoon disowning Yoongi, Yoongi all alone.

He counts one, two, three before time freezes and silence erupts through the hall. Their domestic staff have pulled back to stand in one neat line in the presence of their king. Yoongi doesn’t dare to look back to see the expression on Namjoon’s face but he can imagine it.

Slow padded footsteps near him and from years of living with his lovers, he can distinguish that they’re Namjoon’s. The workers are dismissed with, Yoongi presumes, a wave of Hoseok’s hand and the three of them are left in the hallway.

“Ori,” Namjoon whispers with such despair one would think he’s mourning over the loss of a child.

Yoongi shuffles out of the way as his youngest lover falls onto his knees before the ruined bonsai. Namjoon’s hand hovers over the plant’s debris, not knowing what to do. Guilt crashes through Yoongi like a restless thunderstorm and he hesitantly reaches a hand out to clasp Namjoon’s shoulder.

“Namjoon-ah, I’m really sorry. It was an accident.”

Namjoon nods but Yoongi doesn’t know if he even heard him.

“I can- I can get you another one. I can get you another hundred, whatever you want, love.”

“None of them can replace Ori.”

“Of course. We’re not placing Ori, we’re just getting a few new friends,” Yoongi murmurs before glancing back at Hoseok for help. The king merely shrugs, something like ‘it’s your fault not mine’ twinkling in his eyes. "Namjoon-ah–”

“I don’t… I just… let me just…”

“Namjoon-ah, love,” Hoseok finally steps in. He takes the space on Namjoon’s other side, nimble fingers running through their youngest lover’s bed hair. “How about we try and move Ori to another pot? We’ll put in new soil and give it some water, hm?”

Namjoon nods again but this time turns to acknowledge Hoseok with his pained eyes. The king grins, always softly cheery for his lovers as cups the bottom of Namjoon’s cheeks. Yoongi has always been a little hopeless in the face of an upset lover. He wishes now, as Hoseok supports Namjoon off the ground, that he had taken some classes on how to comfort a human being.

“Take Yoongi-hyung with you,” Hoseok murmurs when they’re all standing again. He stretches his arms out, groaning slightly as he releases the cricks in his back. “There are several matters that need my attention. Neither of you need to accompany me today.”

Yoongi opens his mouth to protest. Namjoon and him usually stand by Hoseok’s side at all events and meetings but the king waves a hand. They both know Namjoon will be in no mood to concentrate and Yoongi, himself, would only be able to focus on wallowing in his own guilt. It’s the right call as much as Yoongi doesn’t want to neglect his duties.

“Take a walk through the gardens, enjoy the sun. I’ll join you two later for lunch,” Hoseok smiles.

They hum in acknowledgement though Yoongi’s not entirely sure if Namjoon even registered the words. Hoseok leaves with a parting kiss to both of their temples and then they’re left alone. Yoongi slides a hand hesitantly into Namjoon’s, afraid his lover might pull away. Namjoon, to his surprise, not only accepts the touch but also squeezes Yoongi back.

“I know you didn’t mean it, hyung. Stop looking like you burned down my greenhouse,” Namjoon sighs and leans down to rest his head on Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Yoongi grimaces.

When Namjoon finally lifts his head, there’s a forced smile stretched on his face. Yoongi doesn’t know what else to do so he tips onto the balls of his feet and presses his lips against his lover’s, until he can feel the corners curve up softly. Namjoon slumps into the kiss, sighing in content this time.

They pull apart after several seconds and Yoongi’s only slightly glad to see the more genuine smile on Namjoon.

“I’m going to go find a spare pot. Are you coming?” Namjoon asks.

“Of course.”

Yoongi follows Namjoon through the familiar corridors, their steps soft and quiet in the silence. The wheels of the cart rattle along with them and the staff bow low when they pass. They reach Namjoon’s greenhouse and Yoongi stands idly as he watches his lover rummage through the storage room. Namjoon comes out with a brown pot, the same size as the one Yoongi had broken. Not knowing much about plants and not wanting another accident, Yoongi keeps a distance between himself and where Namjoon’s trying to revive the bonsai.

When the tree has been transplanted, Namjoon pulls up one of the white chairs and sits himself beside the bonsai. The gloomy cloud surrounding him has Yoongi hesitating before raking a hand through his lover’s hair.

“Namjoon-ah, love, won’t you come have some breakfast with me?”

“I’m going to stay with Ori,” Namjoon whispers with a small shake of his head.

“Will you have some food if I have them bring it here?”

“I’m not in the mood, hyung but thank you.”

Yoongi sighs in defeat and retreats to their palace, leaving Namjoon by himself.

He checks in on Namjoon after breakfast and then before lunch but his lover just sits, moping and whispering to his beloved bonsai. Even the workers have been steering clear of their sombre lord.

Yoongi doesn’t quite manage to coax Namjoon away for lunch so he has some of the staff sneak in Namjoon’s favourite food, just in case. When he finds himself back at their dining room, Hoseok is already inside, a knowing smile on his face. He’s sipping soup in an overly sophisticated manner as Yoongi flops into his seat.

“Still upset?” the king asks.

“I wish I could just turn back time, redo this whole morning,” Yoongi bemoans. Hoseok merely hums and gives him another amused smile. Yoongi, from where he’d knocked his forehead against the table, eyes his lover with chagrin before grunting, “Stop smiling, this is a serious problem.”

“How cruel,” Hoseok sighs, lips folding into a mock pout. He leans forward, chin resting on one hand as another comes up to pinch Yoongi’s cheeks. “I can’t smile in my meetings or I won’t be taken seriously, I can’t smile in front of my ministers lest they think I’m imprudent and now I can’t even smile at my lovers? I thought you loved seeing my smile.”

Yoongi groans and swats Hoseok’s hand away from abusing his poor cheek. The smile widening on the king’s face makes Yoongi scowl, though his heart does soften inside. There’s another omniscient sort of smile on Hoseok’s face and Yoongi can’t even stop it when he jolts up to kiss the smugness away.

Hoseok laughs as he pulls back from the kiss and the sound makes Yoongi feel a little better. Only a little.

“Eat your food before it goes cold, hyung.”

With resignation, Yoongi picks up his chopsticks and distractedly picks at the food.

“How were your meetings this morn?”

“Oh,” Hoseok says before his face hardens. Yoongi has always admired Hoseok’s ability to transform from his cheerful self into the serious monarch their nation knows. “An envoy came this morning. Said we should expect King Seokjin tomorrow.”

“Again? They couldn’t have given us more of a warning?” Yoongi sighs but Hoseok only shrugs, mind elsewhere.

“The ministers are on edge. They’ve been urging me to make right with them.”

“Maybe we should let them deal with King Seokjin for a change. See how long they can last under his derisive smirk.”

Hoseok chuckles but Yoongi can see the fatigue lining his lover’s smile lines. He leans in, pressing a kiss to Hoseok’s closed eyelid and the king hums in appreciation. They finish the rest of the meal quietly, just enjoying each other’s presence.

The impending headache they’re about to deal with tomorrow becomes a completely forgotten thought at the back of Yoongi’s mind as he returns to Namjoon’s side after lunch. His youngest lover is now reading a book to his bonsai, food untouched on the small table on the other side of the greenhouse. He pulls up a chair and situates himself beside Namjoon.

Out of all the books stacked around their home, Namjoon’s chosen to read a coming-of-age story to the little bonsai and Yoongi is just so undeniably gone on his lovers.

“Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi murmurs and waits for his lover to finish the sentence and turn to him. He rests a hand over Namjoon’s thigh, massaging. “You haven’t touched the danpatbbang at all. Is there anything you want to eat?”

“No, hyung. I’m good.”

Yoongi sighs under his breath when Namjoon returns to his book. This won’t do. Yoongi has to do something, Yoongi has to fix this.

He knows exactly what he needs to do.

He storms into Hoseok’s meeting. One of the ministers who had been speaking looks offended as Yoongi ignores them all in favour of rushing to his lover.

“We’re in an important meeting, hyung,” Hoseok scolds but Yoongi knows it’s just for show for Hoseok looks more amused than anything at the defeat on Yoongi’s face. He also knows that the meetings Hoseok has today aren’t that important anyway. When Yoongi places a casual hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, he can feel some tension unravel from the king’s posture. The ministers must’ve been discussing the tension between them and the Kim nation again.

“Insolent,” Yoongi hears a minister mutter. Hoseok’s softened eyes flick to the man who had spoken and when Yoongi glances over, the minister has already shrunk into himself in response to the glare the king’s no doubt sending.

“Hyung, did you need something?”

“The bakery that Namjoon frequents, what is it called?”

“The one with his favourite cinnamon donuts? I believe it's called The Kookie Cutter,” Hoseok murmurs.

Yoongi nods and is gone the next second, leaving an amused Hoseok and his group of judgemental diplomats behind in the meeting room.

His plan is simple. He just needs to visit the bakery, purchase as many donuts as there are available, return to Namjoon and then his lover will be smiling with his little dimples again.

Except as the drive turns from one hour to two and Yoongi is left wondering all the different scenarios such that perhaps his driver had been swapped and he’s currently being kidnapped, he realises his plan is not all that simple. The driver then stops at the border, between their land and that of the Kims. Yoongi is now almost certain this is an abduction attempt. But when he steps out and is met with a storefront with the sign ‘The Kookie Cutter’, he’s even more puzzled.

Maybe Hoseok had remembered the name wrong. Maybe there’s another ‘The Kookie Cutter’. There’s just no way such a small and dilapidated building holds Namjoon’s favourite bakery.

Cautiously, he steps his expensive shoes past the threshold and into the warm bakery. There’s surprisingly a number of customers inside the store but he dismisses them in favour of walking up to the counter where he’s located the batches of cinnamon donuts. From their appearance, Yoongi can’t detect anything special about them. The royal cooks would be able to whip up something like this in just a mere couple minutes if he asked.

A man, young by his appearance, greets Yoongi with a glittering smile. He forgoes a greeting to hurry the boy along because he needs these meagre looking donuts before he self-destructs in shame and guilt.

The boy begins to package the donuts so carefully and painstakingly slow, Yoongi would’ve thought each one costs a hundred thousand won. But Yoongi doesn’t want careful, he wants quick, he wants to just see Namjoon smile again. It’ll be another two hour journey home, Yoongi will probably just miss dinner, not that Namjoon seems like he’s up for it.

Yoongi zones out but then the boy is speaking to him again and not packaging the donuts Yoongi so direly needs. He wants the boy to hurry up so he responds short and snappy in hopes the worker will pick up on Yoongi’s urgency and stop talking to him. Except the boy stops entirely and starts pouting. It’s cute, comes Yoongi’s passing thought but no. No, he’s here to buy donuts for Namjoon, he can’t allow himself to get distracted by boys whose eyes rival the stars.

And then not only is Yoongi refused service but the boy has the nerve to kick Yoongi, Min Yoongi, renowned right hand and lover of the king, out of his bakery. Yoongi had been a tad rude, he’d admit, but to be dismissed? Oh, Yoongi’s blood is boiling. Never has he been treated with such disrespect and from someone so young.

Yoongi gives the boy one last piece of his mind before marching out of the store. Now, completely at his wit’s end, he has no choice but to admit defeat and return to the palace. He doesn’t know what other foods have the power to cheer Namjoon up, maybe he’ll just have to sacrifice his own pride and dignity.

When he steps into the palace shortly after seven, he heads straight to the family room to find Hoseok. He’s not sure if Namjoon’s still sitting with his bonsai or if Hoseok had managed to coax their lover inside but as he nears the family room, he hears two familiar voices. He enters to the sight of his lovers sitting against each other, blinding smiles on both of their faces. Namjoon turns his dimples to where Yoongi is standing by the door, gaping.

“Hyung,” Hoseok greets cheerily. “Good of you to join us.”

Yoongi ignores the king and speeds to Namjoon instead. His younger lover immediately stretches out an arm to welcome Yoongi into a hug, which, in his stunned state, he unthinkingly falls into.

“Hyung,” Namjoon smiles and nuzzles against his temple. “Guess what? Ori’s fine.”

“Did… did your narration work?” Yoongi frowns confusedly. Namjoon covers his face to laugh and Hoseok is sporting a wide grin on his face from Namjoon’s other side.

“No, hyung. Hoseok-ah called over the best botanist in the nation to help me recover it. He said there wasn’t too much damage and Ori will be fine.”

Yoongi stares blankly at them as he tries to digest the words and Namjoon absentmindedly lifts a hand up to ruffle through his hair. The younger man’s still smiling and Yoongi feels his tense heartbeat finally loosen up.

“Thank the heavens. I thought I was growing white hairs with all the stressing,” Yoongi sighs before curling up beside a chuckling Namjoon. Before he can fully relax, he snaps his head up and turns accusatory eyes to Hoseok. “Why didn’t you message me about the botanist? You had already called them when I disrupted your meeting, hadn’t you?”

Hoseok shrugs but there’s a teasing smile on his face that Yoongi knows all too well.

“You made me go all the way across the nation, Hoseok-ah. It was a two hour trip. One way,” Yoongi groans. Hoseok does laugh this time, a bubbly, hearty type that lights up the room.

“Well, you made Namjoon sad. I had to get you back some way,” Hoseok says with a smug grin on his face.

Namjoon softens between them before turning to grab Hoseok’s face and brushing their lips together. Yoongi doesn’t partake when Hoseok slithers a hand behind Namjoon’s head and pulls him in for a deeper, open-mouthed kiss.

“Wasted so much of my time,” Yoongi grumbles to himself. When his lovers break apart, Yoongi scowls harmlessly at Hoseok. “My time is just as precious as yours, Your Majesty.”

“Hyung, where were you even going?” Namjoon asks, slightly breathless.

“I was hurrying to get those cinnamon donuts you like so much,” Yoongi huffs and absolutely does not expect the way Namjoon’s entire being brightens at the prospect of a few measly donuts. Hoseok has a fond smile on his face when he sits back slightly to let Namjoon spring upright.

“Oh, I haven’t had time lately to go get them. Where are they, hyung?”

“The owner wouldn’t sell it to me.”

“What?” Namjoon frowns. “Which bakery did you go?”

“The Kookie Cutter. Is that not the right bakery?” Yoongi murmurs and the crease between Namjoon’s eyebrows only deepens. He doesn’t know what his youngest lover is thinking but he must come to some conclusion because he’s turning his gaze back to Yoongi.

“What did you say to Jungkook?”

“Who?” Yoongi asks. He had already known it was the wrong question before it even left his mouth but it’s confirmed in the way Namjoon narrows his eyes even more.

“The bakery owner. His name is Jungkook.”

“That Jungkook kid was just being defensive,” Yoongi mumbles dismissively. He knows exactly what he said wrong but he’s too ashamed to repeat it so instead, he tries to distract Namjoon with, “Oh but he told me to tell you to find a bakery that sells better pastries.”

Namjoon’s face falls so fast, Yoongi would’ve missed it had he not been looking at his lover. There’s an odd mixture of confusion, despair and displeasure on his face and even Hoseok is stunned.

“Jungkook said that?” Namjoon asks before pulling completely away from Yoongi. “What did you say to him?”

“I… how do you know it was me who offended him?” Yoongi questions meekly but he can already guess the answer. The boy had seemed warm-hearted at first glance and then at second, third, fourth and even fifth glance, there had only been gentleness and warmth radiating off him, even when he had countered all of Yoongi’s comments.

“I know you and I also know Jungkook. You get snappy sometimes but there’s never any real heat to it. People who aren’t Hoseok and I don’t know that though and Jungkook, he’s the sweetest person I think to ever exist. I’ve never seen him anything but happy and welcoming to his customers. He doesn’t just refuse to sell his baked goods.”

“Then, I guess there’s a possibility that he may have because I implied his donuts were unsatisfactory.”

Namjoon’s lips have parted and his eyebrows are knitted tightly together. He’s disappointed.

Yoongi opens his mouth to defend himself but Namjoon’s standing up and dragging Hoseok along with him.

“You can sleep here tonight, hyung,” Namjoon huffs as he strides out of the room with their king. Flabbergasted, Yoongi scrambles up and quickly runs after his lovers.

“Namjoon-ah, it’s just a bakery. There are other places that sell much better donuts.”

His youngest lover swivels around to send a glare that has Yoongi shrinking into himself.

“Namjoon-ah, please. I- I wasn’t thinking. I was just worried about how to cheer you up.”

Even that doesn’t work as Namjoon charges through the corridors with Hoseok in hand. Yoongi has never been kicked out of their shared bed before and he won’t let the bakery be the first thing to come between them.

“Please don’t make me sleep by myself, Namjoon-ah. We’re expecting King Seokjin tomorrow. I’ll need a good night’s rest to deal with them.”

They’ve reached the bedroom now and Namjoon drags a cackling Hoseok in before slamming the door in Yoongi’s face. He curses, the king’s amused face now the last thing he sees tonight of his lovers. With a groan, he leans against the door and knocks softly.

“Namjoon-ah, I’m sorry. I’ll go apologise to this Jungkook kid. I’ll do whatever you want. Please.”

Only Hoseok’s bright laughter responds and for the second time today, Yoongi feels an inordinate amount of hopelessness.

Darn his clumsiness, darn his running mouth, darn the Kim nation.

In defeat, Yoongi can only trod to the spare bedroom. He’ll make amends with Namjoon tomorrow even if he has to rope Hoseok into helping him. He’ll even go apologise to Jungkook if he has to.

With a sigh, Yoongi closes his eyes. It’s going to be a long week.

♕

Chapter Text

Seokjin’s headache grows as he exits the bakery with Taehyung at his side. A bodyguard hastily pulls open the door to his limousine and without a glance back, he climbs in. The plush, black leather that he falls upon accepts his weight, moulding itself so that Seokjin is more comfortable. With his head thrown back, Seokjin presses between his eyes, rubbing the tender skin.

“Hyung, are you sure you do not want to have anything? You look slightly pale,” Taehyung comments as he dims the lights inside the car.

“It’s fine. Remember the name of the store.”

“Why?” Taehyung asks carefully as he peers outside again.

“We need to keep an eye on anyone diminishing the name of The Crown.”

“This district is not a part of our nation, hyung.”

Seokjin blinks an eye open and pulls up the maps on his phone. Taehyung sits quietly beside him, his left side leant against the back of seat. The warmth of his younger lover is nice and Seokjin lets himself relax a little more when Taehyung reaches out to take the phone out of his hand.

“He did not know who you are. It’s better this way,” Taehyung murmurs as he puts the phone aside to tuck a loose strand of Seokjin’s hair into its place instead. Seokjin wraps an arm around Taehyung’s waist and draws the younger man closer. The headache he’d woken up with earlier lessens when Taehyung begins to card a hand through his hair. With a sigh, Seokjin concedes.

“Where is Jimin? Let us get going.”

Just as Seokjin asks, his other lover slips into the limousine with a disheartened look on his face. It snaps him upright, headache forgotten.

“What is it, beloved? Did the bakery owner hurt you? Need I speak to him?”

“No, hyung,” Jimin replies as he drops down onto Taehyung’s other side. There’s a trouble frown creasing his normally cheery disposition and he falls against Taehyung’s back. The remaining bodyguards have filed into their own cars and they’re finally on their way to the Jung nation again.

“What’s wrong then?” Taehyung asks. The youngest man is unable to turn around due to his secured position in both of their arms but he tries anyway.

“We should not have been so imposing. He’s only a kid. Hyung, you probably scared him.”

“He was far too imprudent for someone of his age. Perhaps, if we are fortunate, we may have even instilled some manners into him,” Seokjin replies dismissively. He closes his eyes, head resting back onto Taehyung’s shoulder and misses the way Jimin’s expression twists again.

“Let him be, Jimin-ah,” Taehyung whispers. “It will not do anyone well if we anger him further.”

Jimin has his lips pursed as he glances back one last time at the shrinking sign above the bakery. He keeps the name in the back of his mind for when they return this way later today. If all goes well with King Hoseok, Jimin hopes to convince Seokjin back to the bakery. Their usually tolerant king always falls into a contemptuous mood when he’s required to face the Jungs after all. Seokjin is too occupied with his headache to catch Jimin’s scheming twist of lips.

The rest of the drive goes by without an event as Jimin keeps quiet conversation with Taehyung and Seokjin nurses his aching head. Arriving at their destination, a guard opens the door and light instantly floods the otherwise dark vehicle. Seokjin bites his tongue to hold back from unleashing his irritation.

Seokjin detests the Jung palace. It's messy, tacky and always littered with little pot plants and terrariums. Seokjin likes neatly lined shelves, sparkling floors from a thorough clean and nothing but necessities in view.

His face falls into a grimace at the immediate flourish of green that obscures his view of the brick palace. Even though the palace’s architecture is mediocre at best, Seokjin prefers it over the obnoxious frondescence.

Steeling himself, mood already plummeting further, Seokjin marches forward, a hand in his pant pocket as the palace doors open to allow him entrance. Their chaperone bows low and provides the required greeting to Seokjin but stays otherwise silent along the way to the throne room, likely reading the tension and hardness in the king’s gaze.

When the wide double doors open to reveal Hoseok sitting at ease on the throne, Yoongi and Namjoon beside him, Seokjin feels his eye twitch. The king of the Jung nation stands when their presence is announced but he wears a smile that’s all for show, too controlled, too measured.

“King Seokjin, welcome,” Hoseok greets with a nod.

Seokjin tilts his head as well, arms crossed behind his back in a way that counters the respect in his greeting. Hoseok keeps his face level, no sign that he’s bothered but Yoongi’s eyebrows are contorting into silent rage. Namjoon doesn’t appear affected either but Seokjin has never cared much about irritating the man. His efforts have all been centralised on Hoseok, though the man has yet to budge. It’s often Seokjin who feels like he's under the man's scrutiny. There's something about the perpetual easy-going and amused glint in Hoseok's eyes that unnerves him. Jimin and Taehyung have once mentioned it offhandedly and since then, Seokjin has made it a mission to rid the king of the look.

Hoseok's hard to read and Seokjin despises that.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?” Hoseok asks, lilt in his voice light. He perches casually on the throne. Everything the man does seems to irk Seokjin.

“I believe you are aware of the purpose of our visit,” Seokjin responds, ridding his voice and face of any emotion. He must have the upper hand for their negotiations. “Our ministers have been talking. They would like us to at least reach a détente if the situation cannot be resolved by the end of the week, a public front, if you will, to mollify the masses. You cannot be so ignorant as to not see the effects of the rising tensions on your people.”

Seokjin delights in the fact that Yoongi looks ready to throw hands. Namjoon’s expression has changed too, although he looks more upset than anything. Hoseok, frustratingly, only leans back on his throne, regarding the trio with a passive smile.

“It seems as though you have come with a solution in mind. Let us relocate to the meeting room. I am sure you and your companions will be much more comfortable there.”

Seokjin’s expression twitches. Hoseok appears to have a gift in reading faces, even ones as stoic and blank as Seokjin’s, and he does this all with an unassuming smile on his own. Seokjin knows his face is perfectly calm, it has to be so after hours of practice on a daily basis. He’s once again shown how dangerous Jung Hoseok can be, how one must not underestimate his friendly front. The man has been leading his nation into one of their prosperous eras, with all levels of their economy thriving.

It’s admirable, Seokjin cannot deny that.

Unable to find an argument against Hoseok’s suggestion, Seokjin can only agree with a stiff nod. He doesn’t need to be guided to the meeting room, already familiar with the journey there, but he allows the Jungs to take the lead. It’s courtesy after all.

He meets Jimin’s gaze just before slipping into the room. Encouragement sits in his careful smile.

Seokjin breathes in and out.

The battle begins.

♕

The meeting is adjourned three hours later.

With stiff necks and sore backs, they decline Hoseok’s offer of lunch and leave the Jung palace with their assembly.

“We’ll pay the bakery a visit,” Seokjin declares to their drivers after settling into the car. Jimin shares a questioning look with Taehyung as they make themselves comfortable too.

Seokjin and Hoseok had spoken tensely for the entire meeting with underlying insults beneath their polite words and it had left Yoongi and Jimin occasionally jumping to their king’s defence. The final solution had been suggested by Namjoon, beneficial to both sides, and Seokjin had only accepted it with some coaxing from Taehyung.

There does appear to be a weight lifted off Seokjin’s shoulders and all in all, Jimin is thankful that their trip had an adequate outcome. After weeks of watching his lover stress, starve and argue with his counsellors, Jimin is glad Seokjin can finally breathe.

“Why’re we going to the bakery?” Jimin asks gently. “I would think our bed was the next destination.”

Seokjin chuckles only a little but it’s enough for Jimin’s heart to lighten.

“I do feel slightly regretful for the way I had spoken to the bakery owner. You were right; he is just a kid. I shall return to rectify my mistake. The boy did not deserve such treatment that early in the morn.”

“‘A king knows when he must seek forgiveness.’ That is what your father had always said,” Taehyung murmurs.

“That is only because he did not wish to get on my mother’s bad side and experience her wrath.”

“As you to us,” Jimin grins.

Seokjin arcs a brow but it does little to curb Jimin’s and Taehyung’s mirthful smiles.

“I suppose I have been negligent in my duties to you both,” Seokjin hums with his usual light playfulness that Jimin has gravely missed. “What would you like me to do to expiate this wrongdoing?”

“A whole day by our sides,” Taehyung answers immediately. “No attending to your duties. No entertaining the ministers. Your eyes must be on us and only us.”

“Very well. Even if the world burns, my attention will only be yours, my loves.”

“You promised, hyung.”

Seokjin’s answering grin is enough to cure all the stress and misery Jimin’s poor heart has gone through the past few weeks. He rakes a hand through the king’s hair, fiddling with the stray strands as his fingers pass by. Seokjin’s eyes flutter shut as the man leans backward into the touch.

“Sleep, hyung. You need rest and we still have two hours until we reach the bakery.”

Seokjin hums, using the arm that’s hooked around Jimin to pull them closer together. Jimin craves the touch and scoots until he’s half on top of the king, etiquette be damned. On Seokjin’s other side, Taehyung has his head already head resting on the king’s shoulder. His eyes are closed, chest moving up and down smoothly as he, too, savours the man’s presence.

Jimin doesn’t remember when he falls asleep but he’s roused by a hand brushing softly down his back.

“Mm, are we here?” Jimin mumbles into Seokjin’s sturdy chest.

“Almost, buttercup. You still have a couple minutes if you want to sleep some more.”

“No, it’s ok. ‘m awake already.”

Jimin doesn’t get to pull back too far because Seokjin’s bringing him forward and up into a sweet kiss that has him melting into a puddle. It does little to help clear Jimin’s already muddled mind but he hardly cares. Their recent kisses have been hurried and scarce and amongst the many reasons Jimin and Taehyung have both been a little grumpier lately.

Chancing a glance at Taehyung, Jimin finds the man still dead to the world. Seokjin also catches sight of their youngest lover and presses a kiss to the top of his head. It makes the man stir, drearily and absolutely endearingly finding his way closer inside Seokjin’s neck.

“We are almost here, sweetheart. You will only be grumpy with me if you do not have enough time to freshen yourself,” Seokjin hums. Taehyung grumbles, showing no signs of acknowledgement. Jimin giggles and gifts Seokjin a devious smile before learning towards Taehyung.

“Would you like to stay in the car while hyung and I visit the bakery?” Jimin teases.

“You can’t leave me behind,” Taehyung pouts. His eyes finally blink open and Jimin presses his smiling lips against his lover’s in an attempt to quell the perceived betrayal.

Taehyung loses the indignant jut of lips to kiss Jimin back before leaning up for Seokjin to do the same. By the time, they’re done making up for lost time, the vehicle has stopped moving and a knock sounds on the partition.

“We have arrived, Your Majesty.”

Jimin slides the partition aside, indicating that they have heard. The driver immediately exits the vehicle to hold their door open with a low bow. Their security team has already positioned themselves to stand in two lines leading up to the bakery.

“No need to accompany us,” Seokjin orders.

Jimin is a step behind Seokjin when the king enters the small bakery. He notices how Seokjin’s back has immediately tensed, a result of being out of his usual environments, and sidles closer to press their shoulders together.

It’s the same young man from the morning who steps out from the back as the twinkle of the bell fades. Jimin can’t blame the man when his face hardens, recognising them. Still, with Seokjin in a more pleasant mood now, Jimin is hopeful to make amends.

“Can I help you?” the man asks. His features are fashioned into a faint glower that looks awfully unbefitting on his youthful face.

Seokjin twitches. Jimin’s hope dies a little.

“I do hope you treat your other customers with more warmth. Heaven knows how you still have a business running.”

The man plasters on a smile, eyes burning with something Jimin can only classify as contempt. He nudges Seokjin to make the king stop. Their lover must be ridden by hunger now; it’s the only reason Jimin can think of that Seokjin would speak so callously to an innocent commoner.

“How may I help you?” The words hide an anger that Jimin can detect because he’s staring too closely at the boy, the way his eyebrows lower slightly and the clench of his hands as he resists scrunching up his nose.

“We are here to make amends,” Jimin cuts in before Seokjin can call out the boy’s disrespectful attitude again. “For the way we had spoken to you this morning. It was uncalled for and we apologise.”

“Oh,” the boy says. Trepidation replaces the fury in his telling eyes but Jimin counts it as a win nevertheless.

“Yes. We would like to purchase all pastries and desserts you have available at the moment,” Seokjin adds.

“That’s… everything?”

“Yes. Will that be a problem?”

“No. I just… I don’t understand why. You clearly think my baked goods are beneath you.”

“They are indeed subpar in comparison to what I typically consume but I think you need the money, no? You should not turn away business when it presents itself to you, silly boy. Now, while you pack everything, I can offer you some suggestions on how to increase your exposure and expand your business so you have customers. I have much knowledge on marketing strategies.”

“So you’re not purchasing the food to eat, but rather, for the purpose of giving me money?”

“That would be correct.”

“Then you can forget it. I’m not selling you anything,” the man spits. His arms are crossed, annoyance written across his face as plain as day. He’s breathing heavily, lips awfully bitten in his attempt at restraining his fury.

Jimin is slightly confused. Why would the boy not accept a lending hand when it’s right in front of him?

“‘Forget it’?” Seokjin repeats, evidently feeling just as incredulous as Jimin. “I am offering you more money than you have ever seen and you are rejecting it?”

“I don’t think you get it,” the man huffs, head shaking. “I don’t bake because I have to. I bake because I want to. I want to share my love for baking with those who enjoy my food. While I understand that you think you’re extending a generous offer, it is nothing but unnecessary if not downright patronising. I do not need your pity nor do I need your business and advice. I’ve kept this bakery afloat on my own for three years now.”

“You don’t get it,” Seokjin counters. His voice remains level but Jimin can discern irritation when Seokjin tilts his head the way he does when he’s disputing against his advisors. “Everyone in this world needs money. You are foolish to think otherwise. I do not give generosity easily and it will be wise for you to accept it while you can.”

“I. Decline.”

“So be it. You will understand what I mean one day, when you are old enough.”

“You are no more than five years older,” the boy grumbles, dare Jimin say, petulantly. Seokjin hesitates, possibly having the same thought as Jimin because the boy pouts, seeming more offended than when Seokjin had dismissed his baking. The boy looks flustered when the bakery falls into silence. Perhaps, those words weren’t supposed to be heard. “You can leave now. You’ll only sully my goods with your cruel words.”

“One day,” Seokjin sighs. Jimin is slightly awed that his lover wears disappointment in his voice, an emotion he only seems to bother displaying for those he cares for.

Jimin can only follow Seokjin out quietly when the king pivots and marches away.

♕

The doors swing shut with a familiar twinkle. The tautness of Jungkook’s entire being untangles itself from its unyielding clutches. He takes deep breaths, attempts to exhale all the frustration inside him before carrying on his day except, he’s disrupted by a lingering presence near the entrance.

It’s the man Jungkook does not know the name of.

If Jungkook squints hard enough, he’d believe the glimmer in the man’s eyes is an apology but he will not be fooled again.

“Hyung didn’t mean to offend you. This was his way of expressing guilt for how he came off earlier today.”

“How he came off earlier? What was he going for? Generous and benevolent?” Jungkook snarks.

“He’s been stressed.”

“Glad I made myself available to bear the brunt of his anger,” Jungkook huffs, slightly bitter. He doesn’t expect the man to wince, mouth opening and closing in confliction. Jungkook stares him down, daring the man to argue.

“He really did just want to help,” the man settles on, voice meek.

“I know. He believes he had well intentions, however ambiguous that was. I thank him for his concern but my bakery has been doing fine and will continue to do fine without his two cents.”

Jungkook thinks it’s a rather smart decision that the man looks ready to retreat, mouth closing in acceptance of a lost fight. Jungkook waits for his next move except the hesitant gaze flickers to the condensed milk bread, lingering for a beat too long to not be meaningful, before the man nods his head in a farewell.

Jungkook briefly scolds himself for the flash of guilt that surfaces, forcing him to surge forward. He doesn’t know why he does it but he grabs the neatly packaged condensed milk bread.

“Hey, sir, wait,” Jungkook calls. The man falters near the entrance and Jungkook presses his lips together, unsure what he had intended to say. All in all, the men hadn’t come to demean him again, although their methods and words were questionable. They would never understand him and Jungkook feels fatigued from this unwinnable fight.

“Taehyung,” the man supplies softly.

“Taehyung-ssi, here.”

Jungkook holds the bread out but Taehyung only stares owlishly at it, almost like he’s never seen bread before. Confused eyes dart to Jungkook’s face.

“You’ve been eyeing it for a while. The previous time as well.”

“Oh,” the man says, cheeks tinged with a little embarrassment as he accepts the bread. Cradling it close, Taehyung offers Jungkook a small smile. “How much should I give you?”

“It’s on the house. Just… just don’t come back.”

He’s not angry, he’s not.

Only a little petty.

He turns away, missing the forlorn look that slaps across Taehyung’s face. Busying himself with the tasks at hand, Jungkook keeps an ear out for the click of shoes that fade before a bell twinkles and the bakery falls still again. Sighing the tautness out of his body, Jungkook rolls his neck and pats his chest gently in consolation.

Jungkook’s only reprieve comes in the form of his friend, Kim Namjoon. The older man doesn’t come around too often, but when he does, he’d stay with Jungkook until late, their time filled with idle chatter of Jungkook’s new products and Namjoon’s plants.

The older man visits in a range of clothes from a fitted, expensive suit to casual sweatpants, face concealed with a mask, to the overalls he wears when he tends to his plants. Namjoon had told him he was a scholar but Jungkook knows there’s something more to it. Jungkook allows the man to have his secret, the mystery doing nothing to impede the way Namjoon has seemed to weasel himself into a soft part of Jungkook’s heart.

Usually, Namjoon enters his bakery with a bright dimpled smile and an empty stomach, ready to be Jungkook’s guinea pig in case he needed opinions on new recipes. Usually, Namjoon holds a calm and gentle aura that manages to even subdue Jungkook’s overzealousness when he’s exploding with new ideas. Usually, Namjoon leaves his troubles behind before stepping foot into Jungkook’s store.

Except this time, on one particular Saturday, as Jungkook’s wiping down a counter, Namjoon enters with his head held down. After stepping into the store, the older man only stands by the entrance, shifting from foot to foot.

“Hyung?” Jungkook frowns. Having never seen Namjoon troubled before, he abandons his task in favour of speeding to the front of his bakery. “Hyung, what’s wrong? Who upset you? Tell me, I’ll fight them for you.”

A wry smile touches Namjoon’s lips at Jungkook joke but he continues to linger at the threshold of the store. Jungkook reaches a hand out and clasps it on the sleeve of Namjoon’s, probably expensive, checkered, grey and white suit. He tugs slightly, much like a child would on their mother’s shirt.

“Hyung, you’re making me sad,” Jungkook pouts and it’s only a little unfair that he has to resort to this but Namjoon’s immediately snapping his eyes up. A guilt-ridden pain gleams over his eyes and he blinks quickly, trying to assess how upset Jungkook is. Namjoon must realise it’s a joke because the distraught frown from early has wrapped back over his concern.

“Monday,” Namjoon begins with a sigh. “You refused to serve a customer. He was probably rude to you.”

Namjoon looks oddly contrite when his gaze flickers up and down and Jungkook’s smart enough to put two and two together. His eyes widen, jaw dropping open on its own accord.

“You’re the boyfriend that asshole was trying to buy cinnamon donuts for?”

“You… you didn’t know?”

“I… no? He didn’t mention your name.”

“He told me that you said I should find a bakery that sells better pastries,” Namjoon mumbles and Jungkook feels his words from Monday slam into him.

“No, no, hyung, I didn’t know he was your boyfriend. I- I didn’t know you even had a boyfriend but that’s beside the point. Hyung, I would’ve sold the donuts to him if I knew they were for you,” Jungkook pouts. He tugs on Namjoon’s sleeve again, harder this time, uncaring of how he must be wrinkling the fabric. “He… he called my donuts ‘balls of cooked flour’. I was mad.”

“What?” Namjoon whispers in shock then hangs his head down again. “I’m sorry, Jungkook-ah. Yoongi-hyung, he- he just gets a little snappy when he’s worried about me- but it’s not an excuse, I’m not saying you should forgive him because how dare he call your amazing, delectable cinnamon donuts ‘balls of cooked flour’?”

“Hyung–”

“It was wrong of him to be so impertinent, I’ll apologise on his behalf,” Namjoon says before he proceeds to fall into a ninety-degree bow. Jungkook startles and tries to bring Namjoon back up but the older man is stubbornly intent on keeping his bent over position.

“Hyung, please stop it. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Namjoon’s steadiness wavers when Jungkook squats down below him. He tilts his head from side to side in the playful way that usually has Namjoon chuckling softly at. This time, even though unease and guilt remain in his eyes, Jungkook counts it as a small victory when the corners of Namjoon’s lips lift.

“I’m not angry anymore at what Yoongi said,” Jungkook grins, poking Namjoon’s cheek to further aid the appearing smile. Then with a small pout, huffs, “Plus, why do you have to be the one to apologise?”

“I presumed it would be less irritating coming from me than Yoongi-hyung.”

Jungkook laughs softly at that, not refuting the claim.

“Hyung, you know, I wouldn’t be this carefree if I didn’t learn to let small inconveniences go. I just tell myself I won’t have to see these assholes again, shovel some pastries into my mouth and everything becomes okay again.”

“Well…” Namjoon whispers quietly. “Your baking does seem to have healing powers.”

Jungkook’s nose scrunches up instinctively at the compliment and Namjoon finally abandons his bow to squat down beside him. There’s mirrored delight on Namjoon’s face as he takes in Jungkook’s unstoppable smile.

“Why did you send Yoongi to get the donuts this time?” Jungkook asks absentmindedly. He has the side of his head resting against his knees and Namjoon, though sideways from the new angle, is still as handsome and charming as ever.

“I didn’t send him. Hyung was trying to surprise me with the donuts. He knocked over one of my bonsais and wanted to cheer me up,” Namjoon recounts and Jungkook gasps.

“Which one?”

“Ori.”

“No. Not Ori,” Jungkook bemoans.

“He’s fine,” Namjoon smiles. “A botanist helped restore him.”

“Oh, that’s good. The little guy was only just starting to grow.”

Namjoon’s staring at him oddly but Jungkook doesn’t get more than two seconds to ponder over it because a tan hand is shooting out and brushing his cheek. Namjoon’s fingers are warm as they sweep from the corner of his eye to his hairline.

“You have flour on your cheek,” Namjoon explains and draws his hand back to show his white covered fingertips.

“When do I not?” Jungkook giggles lightly.

A fond smile makes its way onto Namjoon’s face as Jungkook haphazardly slaps his cheeks to clear the remaining flour. Namjoon stops Jungkook’s rough treatment to himself by encapsulating Jungkook’s wrists within his large hands. When Jungkook glances back up, even though Namjoon’s shaking his head with small huffs, there’s still a smile full of fondness on the man’s face.

“Hyung, I know you’re not sad anymore but do you still want those cinnamon donuts? I have a lot,” Jungkook declares with a wide grin and shoots up to drag Namjoon to the counter. He doesn’t give the man any chance of refusal as he begins to package the remaining donuts into a nice brown box.

“At least let me pay you this time? To make up for the trouble.”

“I’ll only accept your money if you don’t consider us friends anymore,” Jungkook huffs. The squawk that leaves Namjoon’s mouth is indignant and his bottom lip juts out to emphasise his feelings of unjust. Jungkook only gifts the man a sweet smile that’s half teasing and half fond in return. As Namjoon loiters nearby, he finishes packing and closes the lid tightly so that the donuts don’t run astray and looks up to catch the man’s troubled frown.

“Is there nothing I can do?” Namjoon insists.

“Hm, well, in your absence, I made a new cake. You can try that and give me an honest review,” Jungkook grins, darting away to fetch a slice of the raspberry and lychee cake. He places it on a ceramic place before offering it to Namjoon.

“Oh Jungkook-ah, this is just too pretty to eat,” Namjoon whispers in absolute amazement as he holds the slice of cake closely. His concentration centres on the pink mirror glaze that coats the top before continuing with his marvelling. “How will I have the heart to break the intricate and delicate and wondrous creation of yours? You manage to outdo yourself every time and what else shall I say except that this is almost as beautiful as you- mph.”

Jungkook hovers the fork in front of them, having just mercilessly shovelled a section of the cake into Namjoon’s mouth. With an innocent smile, he watches Namjoon’s surprise transform into deep reverence.

“Oh. Oh- Jungkook-ah, this is marvellous.”

“It is?” Jungkook asks, eyes shining.

“Of course. Oh goodness, if I were to spend more time here, I’m afraid I’d only gain twenty kilograms,” Namjoon marvels then turns to Jungkook with a rare kind of seriousness in his eyes that he’s only shown once or twice. They’re standing close, Jungkook realises now that Namjoon’s reverent eyes are but a mere few centimetres away from his. “Jungkook-ah, the offer to be my personal pâtissier is still available. Please reconsider.”

Before Jungkook has a chance to reply, Namjoon is already wrapping his hand around Jungkook’s to guide another larger bite of cake into his mouth.

“I’m telling you, I did not even like sweet food until I came across your bakery.”

“Stop it. You know I’m allergic to compliments,” Jungkook mumbles, nose scrunched but he continues to feed Namjoon several bites until the plate is clear.

The hand Namjoon was using to guide Jungkook’s arm to feed him has strayed down to wrap around Jungkook’s waist, the gesture unconscious to them both. With the cake finished, Namjoon sets the plate down carefully and Jungkook does the same with the fork. There’s a little icing smeared beside Namjoon’s lips and Jungkook doesn’t think twice before swiping his thumb over it to clear the pink smudge.

“Do you want me to pack another few slices of those for you?” Jungkook smiles. “You can save them for later. Who knows how busy you’ll be until you can visit poor ol’ me again?”

“I can always make time for you if it’s not a bother. Just say the word and I shall appear,” Namjoon murmurs.

“Like a genie? I snap my fingers to summon you?”

Namjoon laughs, his hand on Jungkook’s waist squeezing and it’s only then that Jungkook registers the comforting and warm weight there. It does something to him that he knows it shouldn’t, not when Namjoon is already in a loving relationship.

The realisation douses Jungkook with cold water. It’s both lethal and relieving; the last thing Jungkook wants to do is come between Namjoon and Yoongi.

“You’re never a bother, hyung,” Jungkook assures before stepping out of Namjoon’s reach. Dangerous. Being this close, allowing his feelings to cultivate knowing that Namjoon has a boyfriend now is dangerous. Jungkook tries to keep his emotions in check as he says, “Let me pack a few of them for you.”

Before Namjoon can respond, Jungkook scurries away, placing three slices of the cake neatly in another brown box. It’s well past closing time, which means Namjoon should probably be on his way back home. Tamping down his yearning, Jungkook shoves the box into the hand Namjoon isn’t carrying the cinnamon donuts with.

“Here, hyung,” Jungkook smiles. “You’re good to go. Just don’t let Yoongi come again. If he does, I’ll kick his butt and then kick him out.”

Namjoon laughs, though something about it doesn’t quite reach his eyes like it usually does. Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell on it because Namjoon’s chucking him beneath the chin with the back of his hand and nodding in agreement.

“Will you have me back?”

“You don’t have to ask, hyung. Although, it would do you good to not make me wait this long next time,” Jungkook pouts. Namjoon chuckles before setting both boxes down and pulling Jungkook into a heartfelt hug.

“Noted,” Namjoon murmurs. Somehow, he’s too close and too far all at the same time. Jungkook clings onto him. “Next week. I’ll be here, I promise.”

Jungkook pulls back first, not sure where he should draw the line for physical intimacy with the taken man. Namjoon grins kindly, leaving with both boxes in one of his large hands, but pausing at the exit like he always does. The man waves one last time, his exaggerated movements causing his hand to collide with the door frame. Jungkook shakes his head, though there’s a wide smile decorating his features. The sheepish look on Namjoon’s face makes Jungkook want to call out to the man, ask him to stay.

The bell stops tinkling, signalling Namjoon’s departure.

And all Jungkook can do is stare longingly at the door, his heart dissolving its lingering hope.

♕

Jungkook is cute, not in the younger brother kind of way but in the Namjoon wants to kiss him silly kind of way. In the he wants to hold his hand and talk about all of Jungkook’s favourite things in life kind of way. In the Namjoon wants to keep Jungkook in their palace so all his favourite people and things in the world would be under the same roof kind of way.

Namjoon had thought that if Yoongi and Hoseok were to meet Jungkook, they’d fall just as hard as he had. Except now, Yoongi’s probably ruined all their chances.

He doesn’t want to be mad at Yoongi, for he’s the one who has never brought up his feelings with his lovers. Though, Hoseok, being the omniscient king that he is, might just have an inkling from the radiance Namjoon always brings back with him after a trip to The Kookie Cutter. Not that it matters much now.

Namjoon fidgets with the boxes of pastries. In the silence of the limousine, the papery sound standing out in stark contrast to the stillness within.

He remembers the first time he’d met Jungkook, five years ago.

It’d been a calm spring and Namjoon had been in search of a small, lesser-known library. He had only recently caught Hoseok’s eye at a writing competition. One thing led to another and Namjoon, at the tender age of twenty-four, somehow found himself courted by the then prince and his right-hand man. He hadn’t been quite so comfortable with accepting their generous offer of a personal driver. They weren’t his lovers yet. So he had consequently wandered the streets aimlessly, finding himself in front of a bakery with a warm, saffron glow coming from within.

Pushing the door open, Namjoon had been met with a delicate scent of pastries and desserts, one that wasn’t overly sweet and somehow bore traces of home. There were no customers inside the bakery, not even a glimpse of a worker so Namjoon shifted hesitantly at the threshold until a fluffy mop of black hair popped around the far door.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Welcome to The Kookie Cutter,” the man said, voice sweeter than the pastries. Namjoon met two angelic eyes that curved with his smile. Pretty, Namjoon thought. “Are you looking for something?”

“I- I got lost,” Namjoon answered numbly.

“Where were you trying to go?”

Namjoon had pulled out his phone and attempted to show the man his destination. The man leant in and Namjoon caught a whiff of apples and cinnamon, momentarily enchanted, before a laugh snapped Namjoon out. It was impossibly melodic.

“You’re a little far. How did you manage to end up here?” the man giggled good-heartedly. Namjoon felt his cheeks flush, embarrassed in front of this pretty stranger.

“I walked from the train station.”

“Oh, that’s… that’s so far,” the man said, eyes glittering sympathetically. “I don’t think you’ll make it to the library today. Come, take a seat here. There’ll be a downpour soon. You wouldn’t want to be caught out in that.”

The man fluttered around, bringing Namjoon to sit behind the front counter on a stool. There was flour dusting the flat surface but the man quickly brushed it away.

“I’m Jungkook,” the man introduced, the first time Namjoon had heard the pretty name.

“I’m Namjoon. Thank you for letting me wait out the rain.”

“It’s ok. You can keep me company while I finish up for the day.”

“Do you own this store?”

“No, my parents do. I’m taking over soon though,” Jungkook hummed as he wipes down the tabletops. Pausing for a second, Jungkook viewed Namjoon, lips twisting in a way Namjoon’s eyes shouldn’t have been so drawn to before he commented, “You’re not from around here.”

“I reside on the border of the Jung nation. I don’t come this way often, not since the nations divided.”

“Ah. How do you know about that library then? It’s only frequented by the locals.”

“I’m a scholar,” Namjoon answered sheepishly. “I’m currently delving into the progression of traditional Korean art and I’ve exhausted the many libraries in my area.”

Jungkook giggled and Namjoon found himself leaning in, drawn to the boy like he was a siren.

“It’s a serious problem,” Namjoon pouted because having no books to read and no new knowledge to gain was as good as wasting his days away.

“That does sound like a problem,” Jungkook nodded sagely. He scanned the displays before turning to face Namjoon. “Would you like a cinnamon donut? They always lift my mood and you’ll be doing me a favour. It’ll be unlikely for me to sell the remaining ones off.”

Namjoon soon found himself with a plate of desserts that seemed to magically refill once he had finished them.

They had talked through the downpour and Namjoon had stayed even longer because Jungkook’s smile was bewitching. Namjoon was older by three years and Jungkook just chimed ‘hyung’ so naturally, like they had known each other for years. He discovered that Jungkook was easy-going with a profound love for baking, something that could be attributed to his upbringing. Namjoon, himself, had come from a family of scholars, a fact that Jungkook questioned about with bright, inquisitive eyes.

At the end of the day, Jungkook had walked him to the train station and hopped from foot to foot as they waited for the last running train of the day. He entertained himself by attempting to avoid the lines that joined the cream tiles while Namjoon watched on with fondness that was growing at an alarming rate.

There were only a few minutes left, three to be exact, for Namjoon to muster up the courage. Jungkook sent him a smile every time he made it back from his lap. Fiddling with his fingers, Namjoon decided there was no right time to interrupt Jungkook so he quickly jolted forward to block the boy’s path. Namjoon should’ve realised that Jungkook was paying more attention to the ground than anywhere else and thus, it was inevitable that he ended up with an armful of Jungkook, the boy having been unable to stop himself in time.

“Sorry,” Jungkook murmured sheepishly. He didn’t step back and Namjoon barely registered that perhaps it was because of the grip he had on the boy’s arms. He had a purpose in mind.

“Would it be ok if I visited you some time?”

“Of course, hyung! I’ll give you a cinnamon donut, on the house,” Jungkook had said with a sparkly grin. “Give me your phone.”

Jungkook reached a hand out and Namjoon passed over his phone without a second thought. He watched as Jungkook input his number, naming himself a cookie emoji that was all too befitting.

“If you ever need my help finding the library, don’t hesitate to shoot me a message.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

And so, a routine had grown where Namjoon would use the library as an excuse to drop by The Kookie Cutter and Jungkook would have a cinnamon donut waiting each time.

Namjoon had accepted Yoongi and Hoseok’s courtship not long after with the hopes that he could introduce the two to Jungkook. Except tensions had immediately increased and they were thrown into keeping the balance of their nation. Hoseok was crowned as king two years later after his father’s health began deteriorating and his parents decided to step down. He was young, inexperienced and received backlash for every word and every action. Hoseok needed Namjoon by his side.

As the years passed, his visits to Jungkook went from weekly to monthly. Now, Namjoon can barely remember when he does.

His eyes linger on the packaging. It’s changed from the last time. When had Jungkook changed it?

Namjoon lets his thoughts stew in his mind as he cradles the precious sweets against his chest. He feels like he’s grasping at straws, like an important part of him is slipping through his fingers. Namjoon’s left a large portion of his heart with Jungkook, forever owned by the boy who loves with every part of himself.

He doesn’t realise he’s reached home until the driver knocks for possibly the fifth time on the open door.

“Sir? Will you be exiting the vehicle or is there another destination in mind?”

“No, sorry,” Namjoon murmurs, shuffling out with Jungkook’s baked goods clutched tightly. His chauffeur attempts to take them so Namjoon can slide out smoothly but he waves the man off. “I got it. You can return home now. Thank you for your hard work.”

The man bows low, passing the keys off to another staff member for the car to be handled. When he enters the palace, he’s helped out of his blazer and dress shoes. After all this time, Namjoon still isn’t used to the attention or the several hands that have no qualms invading his personal space.

He drags his feet towards the family room, certain he’ll find his lovers resting there. He can hear their soothing, familiar voices already but today, it does little to unravel the tightness in his heart.

“Welcome back, love,” Hoseok grins as soon as he steps into the room. Namjoon wears a small smile on his face but it falls almost as quickly as it had come.

“Where have you been?” Yoongi asks. Namjoon drops into his welcoming arms with the cakes and donuts still held preciously in his arms. Yoongi winces upon catching sight of the boxes. “Oh, you went to The Kookie Cutter. How’s… uh, the kid?”

“Jungkook.”

“Right. Jungkook.”

“He’s fine.”

“Ok,” Yoongi nods uncertainly. “Is he still upset about what I said?”

“No. Maybe a little.”

“Are you still upset about what I said?”

“Of course I am.”

“Would it make you feel better if I apologised to Jungkook?”

“He doesn’t want your apology. He doesn’t even want to see you ever again,” Namjoon huffs. He feels petulant, maybe he’s acting it too. Above his head, Yoongi shifts, most likely to look to Hoseok but Namjoon remains with his lips jutted and arms crossed over his chest as he fiddles with the brown packaging.

Namjoon has never felt left out with his lovers despite their vastly different upbringings but now, for the first time ever, Namjoon sees a chasm between them; Yoongi hadn’t offered to apologise to Jungkook because of the way he acted but rather, because of how it was affecting Namjoon. He doubts Hoseok would completely understand it either.

“Namjoon-ah, talk to us,” Hoseok says. A hand comes to rub up and down his thigh and when Namjoon chances a look, he finds Hoseok wearing patient affection. “We know you’re upset about what Yoongi-hyung said to Jungkook. Ignoring the fact that Jungkook doesn’t want an apology, would it make you less upset if Yoongi-hyung apologised?”

“No.”

The fact that Hoseok even had to ask means that he doesn’t, in fact, understand.

“Why not?” Yoongi murmurs. There’s no irritation in his voice but Namjoon still bristles.

“Because you won’t mean it. You’re only sorry that your actions have made me upset. You don’t care about how awful you were to Jungkook.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes as Yoongi opens and closes his mouth immediately. Whatever he sees on Namjoon’s face must have forced him to swallow the brisk retorts and appeasing words that almost revealed themselves. Hurt, anger, resignation, Namjoon wonders which one is strongest.

Yoongi sits quietly for several minutes before he extends a hand to take the sweets in Namjoon’s grasp. When Namjoon doesn’t fight him, Yoongi opens one of the boxes to reveal the rows of cinnamon donuts that Jungkook had carefully packaged. Namjoon reaches over to take one and chomps on it.

“May I?”

Namjoon shakes his head. Jungkook had packaged them for him. He takes another angry bite.

“Please?”

Namjoon hesitates, glancing down at his half-eaten donut before staring at Yoongi’s patient and imploring and slightly regretful eyes. He shoves the donut into Yoongi’s mouth, unapologetic at the sugar that messily coats his lover’s mouth.

Yoongi chews and chews and lifts Namjoon’s wrist up so he can take another slow, careful bite. He cleans the rest of the donut from Namjoon’s hand. It’s only because Namjoon knows Yoongi well that he notices the almost imperceivable widening of his lover’s eyes as the taste lingers on his tongue. Namjoon presses his lips together, biting down his words.

“It’s amazing,” Yoongi murmurs. “There is something simply beautiful about the taste, something that is unable to be replicated by skill.”

“He bakes with love.”

“Innocent yet passionate.”

Yoongi pauses and Namjoon avoids the intensity of his lover’s gaze in favour of playing with the box yet again. Yoongi captures his restless fingers in a firm hold as his thumb traces gentle circles over Namjoon’s knuckles.

“Jungkook means a lot to you, hm?”

Namjoon blinks, glancing up at Yoongi. Despite the initial fear the truth may cause disaccord between them, something akin to understanding sits in both Yoongi’s words and smile. Namjoon feels the fight leave him.

“He does,” Namjoon whispers. A weight lifts off his chest, taken away by his admittance. Yoongi nods.

“I’ll apologise. I was wrong about Jungkook’s baking. I was wrong to walk into his store and speak to him like that. I’m sorry I treated your friend like that, Namjoon-ah.”

His heart feels lighter and lighter with each spoken word and the sincerity shining in Yoongi’s eyes. He doesn’t have to see Hoseok to know that the man was reading into every one of Namjoon’s tells.

“If Jungkook allows me, I would like to reconcile,” Yoongi continues.

Namjoon’s shoulders fall again. He’s certain that the kind, pretty boy with stars for eyes would forgive Yoongi in a heartbeat should Namjoon be the one to request it. Jungkook would give Yoongi another chance, a chance at friendship. Namjoon would only be a fool to hope for more.

“Tomorrow, we will all go,” Hoseok finally chimes in. There’s a contemplative glint in his eyes, the one that sparkles every time he meddles in his lovers’ business. Namjoon is too tired tonight to interrogate the king on his intentions. It’s not like Namjoon has ever been able to stop the man once his mind is set.

“Just as long as you behave.”

Hoseok gasps in mock offence, hand to chest. Namjoon can’t stop the smile that lifts his cheeks when Hoseok continues his dramatics about his perfect behaviour and how it dearly hurts that Namjoon dare suggest any different. Yoongi is quiet on the side though his thumb never stops their affectionate motion.

When night falls and the soft inhales and exhales of Namjoon’s lovers accompany his sleepless mind, he can’t help but dream. Of a home that looks of green and smells of love.

♕

Taehyung doesn’t unpack the bread until they reach home. It had sat cradled in his lap the entire ride. When he’d first entered the vehicle, Seokjin and Jimin questioned him on the sudden appearance of the bread but after receiving minimal responses, both his lovers had quietened down. Taehyung is upset for reasons he cannot put into words, as absurd as that is.

His mood isn’t lost to his lovers but fortunately, they understand his needs, understand that he needs to gather his thoughts and sort out his own feelings before he can communicate them. Taehyung has always been unpredictable in every sense of the word but through trial and error, the three of them have arrived at where they are today.

The familiarity of their palace puts Taehyung more at ease. Seokjin and Jimin make idle chatter and greet their staff with a nod as they’re warmly welcomed. Taehyung is usually the one who makes small talk, asking about their cook’s daughters, about their personal attendants’ day, about the wellbeing of the gardener’s grandmother. To see the man in such low spirits has many staff members granting them concerned gazes yet at Seokjin’s and Jimin’s discreet headshakes, none make to question him.

Their trip to their shared bedroom is relatively undisturbed and soon, Seokjin and Jimin are changing out of their formal clothing, opting for loose-fitting cotton pants and long sleeve tops. Taehyung puts on whatever he’s given, mind reeling and distant.

He reclines on his favourite spot on the beige couch, beside the ceiling to floor window. The open curtains drape lightly on the side and Taehyung stares at the patterns the neatly trimmed hedges in their garden create.

Seokjin and Jimin join him with three cups of pu-erh tea, steaming liquid left to cool on the white, marble table.

“Do you want to put the bread down on the table?” Jimin asks softly. It’s enough to draw Taehyung out of his daze and he realises throughout the journey, the bread had remained in his clutches. He presses his lips together and shakes his head. Jimin only nods understandingly. “Are you ok?”

“I’m upset. But I don’t fully comprehend why.”

“Why don’t you walk us through your thoughts, sweetheart, no matter how scattered and discrepant they may be. We will try to make sense of it,” Seokjin murmurs. Jimin nods in quiet encouragement and Taehyung sighs. He gazes at the corner of the room, trying to find the forefront of his thoughts.

“My mother used to make me condensed milk bread,” Taehyung says quietly like it’s a secret. “It was my favourite but I have not been able to eat it since…”

Taehyung looks down. He doesn’t speak much about his parents, both passing when he was of middle school age. They had been close friends with Seokjin’s so there hadn’t been any hesitance in his move to the palace although it had taken some getting used to. Taehyung’s parents had chosen a mundane life surrounded by greens and browns after he’d been born.

There’s a hand, Jimin’s, resting on his knee. Taehyung is warmed by the soft encouragement on his lovers’ faces as they listen, as they wait for his thoughts to tumble out. His hands twist in the packaging of the bread.

“The bakery felt like home. From the moment we had first entered, the gentle aroma and the soothing atmosphere had a part of me lightening despite the difficult day ahead of us. I know that must sound ludicrous, I mean it is just like any other bakery but I… I did not want to leave. It brought back memories of my mother, memories that I had buried because they were just too painful to remember.”

“Sometimes, memories are less painful when they are shared,” Seokjin murmurs.

“I do not like burdening you with my emotions. You have the weight of a nation on your shoulders already.”

“It is not a burden if I am willing to carry it, sweetheart.”

Taehyung swims in the warm depths of the sincerity beneath Seokjin’s smile. The king takes his hand, having to coax its grip off the bread before bringing it up to leave a kiss that is nothing short of gentle. Taehyung doesn’t attempt to draw his hand back and lets the firmness of Seokjin’s touch ground him.

“I’m guessing this is condensed milk bread? Shall we have the tasters test for poison first?” Jimin asks carefully.

“No need,” Taehyung refuses immediately. He knows it takes much effort for Seokjin to not grimace at his carelessness. The king is likely biting his tongue as Taehyung unwraps the clear packaging to reveal the goods Seokjin had so thoroughly scorned.

A sweet aroma permeates the room in a wonderful balance of soft and fresh. Like honeyed morning dew. Taehyung hesitates.

“Sweetheart?”

“I’m scared it will taste like my mother’s.”

“You do not have to try it,” Seokjin reassures.

“No, I want to. I just… I just don’t know what I will do if it does taste the same.”

“If it does, perhaps the kid will be kind enough to teach our pâtissiers to reproduce this. We will pay him generously, of course,” Jimin says.

Taehyung smiles wryly, forgoing mentioning the boy’s last words. Instead, he peels the first piece away, focusing on not crushing the meticulously created fluffiness. As he takes the first bite, Seokjin and Jimin keep a close eye on him.

A sweetness that conjures love in its own nostalgic manner melts into his mouth. It’s not the melody of childhood that comes to mind but slow dances in warm gardens and stolen kisses between a busy day. It’s falling into familiar arms and the smell of home. Taehyung finishes the remainder of the piece like a starved man.

“Is it…?”

“No,” Taehyung exhales shakily. A small smile brings light to his face. “It doesn’t taste the same but I… I feel the undercurrents of love he pours into his baking. It’s just as comforting.”

“And you would like to return for more?” Jimin prompts.

“I do not think that would be possible, given his aversion to our presence.”

“How did you go about convincing the boy to sell you the bread in the first place?”

“Not many bakeries sell condensed milk bread. I guess I stared for a moment too long. The boy gave it to me free of charge in exchange for never returning.”

“That is awfully rude of him,” Seokjin frowns.

“After what we've said to him, I really do not believe the request was unwarranted.”

“We offered him a chance at success.”

“Hyung,” Taehyung whispers patiently. “I think his bakery is succeeding. Try it.”

Seokjin eyes the piece of bread in Taehyung’s hand suspiciously before releasing a heavy sigh, like he does when he makes a decision that alters the lives of the nation. He opens his mouth in resignation and Taehyung applauds the man for not curling up his lips in distaste. Seokjin has been fastidious with his food since Taehyung can remember.

Carefully and awfully slowly, Seokjin takes a bite out of the piece dangling inside his mouth. Holding his breath, Taehyung can only stare as the Seokjin chews. The man’s eyebrows are frowning so deeply that even Jimin begins to look slightly uneasy from the other side, as though anticipating the worst. If it were anyone else, Taehyung would think the hum that Seokjin lets out is unimpressed but then he catches the little dimple sitting above the king’s lips.

“I may have misjudged the boy,” Seokjin sighs. “The taste speaks volumes to his skill. Often, it is the simple foods that are more difficult to perfect. With this level of mastery, he can easily be heading an outstanding bakery in our nation.”

“So…?” Taehyung asks hopefully.

“I suppose we can make amends.”

“Let me speak this time.”

“I think that is wise. Anything I say only appears to infuriate him.”

“You can come off quite overpowering sometimes, hyung. Especially when your mind is encumbered by your duties.”

“Or when he is ridden with hunger,” Jimin adds helpfully.

Taehyung chuckles lightly, kissing the indignant scowl off Seokjin’s lips that formed in response to their teasing. His king tastes sweet with the lingering pleasantness from the condensed milk. Seokjin is quick to use the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pushing him down against Jimin’s chest.

Setting the bread aside, Taehyung welcomes the warm press of their bodies with a laugh. When Seokjin nips his neck in retaliation, Taehyung can’t stop his breath from hitching and body from arcing. The lips on his neck transform into a smile before the king lifts his head to meet Taehyung’s fluttering eyes.

“I’ll show you overpowering.”

Taehyung closes his eyes at Seokjin’s promise and basks in the pairs of hands encouraging him to relax.

Their plan to win over the baker can wait.

♕

Chapter Text

When Namjoon had promised ‘next week’, Jungkook understood ‘next month’. But here, only a day later, stands the man again. He’s sporting a casual light blue shirt and a pair of beige cargo pants with too many pockets to count.

The morning rush has finished not long ago and Jungkook is in the midst of lunch preparations when he catches Namjoon hovering near the entrance like the day before. Jungkook sets down the display he was fixing to rush up to the man.

“Hi, Jungkook-ah.” Namjoon looks sheepish.

“What’s wrong, hyung?”

“Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“You’re visiting me two days in a row. Something must be wrong,” Jungkook says as he takes Namjoon’s face and scans it over and over again. It’s only because Jungkook stands in the man’s personal space that he can see the solemn glaze that thwarts Namjoon’s attempt at a casual smile. Before Jungkook can begin to deduce what he’d said that upset Namjoon, the man has his expression corrected.

“I um… brought some people with me today.”

“Who?” Jungkook asks, dropping his hands as the bell jingles and two men dressed in pristine suits step into his bakery. An unfamiliar man with a blinding smile leads the way but Jungkook’s eyes are focused on the person lingering behind. He stands begrudgingly and refuses to make contact with Jungkook’s narrowed eyes. “Oh.”

“Jungkook-ah-”

“Hyung, I told you-”

“That you would kick his butt and then kick him out, I know,” Namjoon interrupts. The man rests a hand on Jungkook’s arm and twists so that Yoongi is out of his line of sight. From here, Jungkook can make out an amused smile sitting on the unnamed man’s face. “He’s not here to insult your baking. I promise.”

“Doesn’t look like he really wants to be here at all,” Jungkook grumbles.

“That is just Yoongi-hyung’s resting face. Please do not be offended,” the last man comments with a cheery grin. He steps forward with effortless poise. “It is nice to meet you, Jungkook. I’m Hoseok, Namjoon’s other boyfriend.”

Jungkook’s mouth falls open. So Namjoon has not one but two boyfriends. The man deserves to be loved by everything good in the world but it’s still entirely unexpected.

Hoseok has taken to strolling around his bakery and Jungkook seeks comfort in the hands Namjoon rests on his waist as he awaits whatever attitude Hoseok might bring. Jungkook doesn’t think he has the energy to deal with more wealthy people today. It’s only Namjoon’s calm smile that begins to settle his unease.

“I think I truly understand the term mouth-watering now,” Hoseok hums as he joins their huddle again. “Namjoon allowed me a taste of your raspberry and lychee cake last night and I must say I was captivated by the delectable sweetness. I needed to meet the man responsible for such a divine creation.”

“Oh,” Jungkook whispers as a violent blush takes over his cheeks. Namjoon suppresses a knowing smile. “T-Thank you, Hoseok-ssi. I’m glad you enjoyed the cake. The fresh batch will be out soon if you would like some more.”

“You are an absolute delight. I cannot see how someone could be so mean to you," Hoseok says as he turns, teasing eyes darting in Yoongi's direction.

Jungkook squeaks and ducks behind Namjoon’s wide shoulders, ignoring his friend’s giggle.

"Now while I believe I can finish the entirety of your raspberry and lychee cake by myself, Namjoon tells me you have an excellent array of pastries and sweets. I must try all your marvellous creations."

From his hidden position behind Namjoon, Jungkook peeks out tentatively in admiration for the man who holds a wonderful balance of honest confidence and modesty. Namjoon nods to him in encouragement, dimples glimmering, as his hand on the bottom of Jungkook’s back guides him towards Hoseok.

“Hoseok has been looking forward to your goods ever since I first shoved a cinnamon donut in his mouth last night,” Namjoon laughs.

“That’s not very nice, hyung. You can’t just shove food into people’s mouths.”

It’s only a tad hypocritical, Jungkook realises, as he’d done just that to Namjoon yesterday.

A boisterous, hearty laugh leaves Hoseok, his entire frame radiating joy. Jungkook doesn’t think he’s heard or seen a more genuine display of happiness before. Namjoon rubs the back of his head, a sheepish smile sitting on his face, his pout contaminated by Hoseok’s laugh.

“I cannot believe Namjoon hid you away for this long, sweet pea. Come. I must try one of everything.”

“Hoseok-ssi, that’s not good for you. Haven’t you heard that you must eat everything in moderation?” Jungkook frowns and rather than offence, Hoseok looks proudly scolded.

“Of course. You are absolutely right, muffin.”

“I insist you only choose up to five items. I’ll happily package the rest for you.”

“Then that is what we shall do.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook calls, beckoning Namjoon to his side. “What do you think Hoseok-ssi would like best?”

Namjoon presses to his side immediately, a hand finding its home on Jungkook’s waist as he directs them to a different part of the bakery.

“Hoseok likes strawberries,” Namjoon explains.

“Strawberry shortcake truffles then? No, no, the yuzu, strawberry and pistachio mousse cake? No, no, he should try the strawberry sago pudding. Hyung, I don’t know,” Jungkook pouts.

“How about the yuzu, strawberry and pistachio mousse cake? Yoongi-hyung enjoys yuzu,” Hoseok hums. His gentle firmness easily puts an end to Jungkook’s confusion. When he turns to acknowledge the man’s request, he finds that Hoseok is still smiling kindly and frankly, Jungkook isn’t sure the man knows what seriousness is.

At the mention of the last person in their little trio, Jungkook glances warily at Yoongi, who’s still loitering at the front of the store, seemingly trying to fuse with the wall. He hasn’t said a word since entering the bakery. Jungkook is certain now that the man doesn’t even want to be anywhere near his bakery and its unsatisfactory goods.

Jungkook tries to not let that thought ruffle his feathers. Yoongi is hardly someone to get upset over.

The yuzu, strawberry and pistachio cake has already been prepared to be sold in slices so Jungkook only needs to transfer them to a plate. He brings out two slices before pausing.

“Three slices, please,” Hoseok answers easily. Jungkook is slightly impressed by the man’s attentiveness.

He plates a third slice and directs the trio to the long bar counter by the window where four wooden stools are set out. Yoongi is sat furthest from Jungkook, with a lone seat between him and his boyfriends. Jungkook decides to carry Hoseok’s and Namjoon’s plates over first.

“Here you go, Hoseok-ssi.”

“Please call me hyung, sugar plum. We will have to drop the formalities as I can see myself as a regular here,” Hoseok smiles. Jungkook almost sets Namjoon’s plate down too hard in his fluster.

“O-Of course, hyung.”

“And please,” Hoseok adds as an afterthought. “Do not be hesitant to let me know if the names of endearment are causing you unpleasantness. I will not take offence.”

“Oh, n-no. I don’t mind them,” Jungkook murmurs. Coming from the man who speaks with only gentle assuredness, Jungkook finds that he wouldn’t mind hearing Hoseok’s collection of names.

“Good. I have many more I have not used, although they may become a little ridiculous.”

Hoseok doesn’t wait to see the ferocity of Jungkook’s burning cheeks before turning to pick up the dessert fork. As Jungkook awaits the man’s review, Namjoon leans in with a fond smile.

“Last night, Hoseok was researching the best names of endearment to impress you,” Namjoon discloses quietly.

“You must’ve betrayed me then, hyung,” Jungkook grumbles only for Namjoon to laugh.

“I want you to get along.”

“Doesn’t help when I’m a stuttering mess!”

“A cute stuttering mess.”

Jungkook’s pout turns withering but their banter is broken by Hoseok’s loud exclamation.

“My tongue has met heaven,” Hoseok declares. “The balance in the flavours is phenomenal.”

“Oh, I’m glad you like it, hyung.”

“I am sure Namjoon has asked already however, I really implore you to consider being our personal pâtissier. I am torn between wanting the world to experience your excellence and keeping you a beautiful secret.”

“You’re too kind, hyung,” Jungkook smiles. “I am content with sharing my baking with those who happen to stumble across here. I don’t wish to lose sight of my passion and purpose.”

“That is very admirable, gumdrop. I do not wish to take that away from you either. Instead, I will make it my mission to return here as often as my duties allow, if you will have me.”

“Absolutely, hyung. Any friend of Namjoon’s is a friend of mine.”

Namjoon smiles from ear to ear, pretending like he hadn’t been eavesdropping on the entire conversation. Jungkook nudges him but the man merely carries on eating.

With Hoseok and Namjoon preoccupied with their desserts, Jungkook has no other reason to avoid interacting with Yoongi. He retrieves the last plate with a perfect slice of cake sitting atop. Yoongi doesn’t bother sparing him a glance as he approaches. Jungkook’s lips twitch involuntarily into a frown. With a few huffs and puffs, he places the plate down harder than intended before pivoting and attempting to make his escape.

In his hurry, Jungkook almost, almost misses the soft ‘thanks’ that Yoongi whispers. It halts him in his steps and a little indignation subsides.

“You’re welcome,” Jungkook says just as quietly. He’s not exactly sure what this means for the two of them so he hovers uncertainly for two seconds. Yoongi stares at the cake, making no move to try it. Jungkook doesn’t think he can blame himself when the only thought that crosses his mind is that Yoongi is looking down on his baking again. He turns to leave.

“I’m sorry,” an urgent voice blurts out, halting Jungkook in his step. “I was inexcusably rude to you. I let my desperation and despair get the best of me and you had to suffer the consequences. I shouldn’t have held reservations on your goods based on outward appearances. You have every right to be upset, annoyed and bitter however, I can only hope my actions have not tainted your view of Namjoon. He has given me a profuse scolding for my behaviour.”

Jungkook slowly lowers himself onto the last remaining stool as he takes a minute to process the words. Yoongi looks anywhere but at him. Jungkook is able to perceive the man’s unease though, if the way he fiddles with his finger is any indication.

“Namjoon-hyung already apologised on your behalf but I appreciate it, Yoongi-ssi. Your words aggravated me but I am no longer upset.”

For the first time since entering the bakery, Yoongi maintains eye contact, although a wary kind. An awkward silence ensues and Jungkook begins to wring his own fingers. Yoongi’s gaze is neither harsh nor sceptical yet it still makes Jungkook feel exposed.

With nothing else to lighten the stiff atmosphere between them, Jungkook gestures mindlessly at the forgotten slice of cake.

“Did you want to try that?”

Yoongi answers by picking up his fork and breaking off an adequate piece. Jungkook gnaws at his lower lip as Yoongi chews and chews and then exhales deeply. He doesn’t know why he cares for the man’s opinion.

“Not too distasteful for your ‘exquisite palate’?” Jungkook asks with a wry smile.

“Hm, could do with a little more sweetness.”

Jungkook’s jaw drops before he notices the glimpse of a smile touching Yoongi’s lips. He’s teasing, like his own special brand of affection, perhaps.

Two can play that game.

Jungkook throws on his best pout, the one that always gets him his way, before pulling the cake away from Yoongi. Panic settles into the man and he’s turning too quickly that he almost falls off his stool. Jungkook suppresses a smile.

As soon as Yoongi catches the playful glint in his eyes, he relaxes. Jungkook is subjected to an unsure but kind smile. He finds himself liking the calmness Yoongi exudes a little more than he anticipated.

“I understand why this is Namjoon’s favourite bakery. The goods here are truly something to be commended for.”

Yoongi reclaims the cake whilst Jungkook reels from the casual yet matter of fact manner of the man’s compliment. His state doesn’t go unnoticed by the man who wears a grin that Jungkook would have thought looked infuriatingly smug only yesterday. Now, Jungkook feels a pleasant flush on his cheeks as Yoongi devours the rest of the cake.

Jungkook tugs his sweater over his fidgeting fingers before tucking them between his thighs. The gaze that wanders to him between bites is amused but fortunately, Yoongi doesn’t stop to tease Jungkook again.

His eyes only leave Yoongi when he realises the silence on the other side of him. He glances around quickly. Hoseok and Namjoon whip their heads down, pretending to be intrigued by their empty plates. An unexpected laugh bursts out of Jungkook as the two men resemble children caught in the middle of a mischievous act.

“Hoseok-hyung, is there anything else you would like? I remember something about you wanting to try everything here.”

“Oh, if you are offering, then I have always had a fondness for lemon madeleines. I believe I saw several packaged bags near the counter,” Hoseok says with his calm smile. Jungkook is about to hop off his seat to retrieve them when Namjoon stops him with a, probably unnecessary, hold around his waist, not that Jungkook is complaining.

“Are you certain, Hoseok-ah?” Namjoon asks as Jungkook makes himself comfortable leaning against the man. “I made the mistake of eating them and now, no lemon madeleines are comparable. Jungkookie’s baking has ruined all others for me. It is downright wicked, I must say.”

Jungkook’s confusion morphs into embarrassment but he’s given no mercy when Hoseok nods in deep contemplation.

“You are right, Namjoon-ah. How will I bear eating anything after this? I would have to live here to satiate my hunger.”

Jungkook lets out a strangled sound and shifts to bury his face into Namjoon’s shoulder. His sweater paws rise automatically to cover his burning ears. Jungkook wishes nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole.

A chorus of chuckles follow in three different pitches. They sound nice together even if the sound is a result of their teasing.

Jungkook is forced away from the safety of Namjoon’s embrace by a firm grip that belongs to Hoseok. He takes Jungkook’s chin between his fingers with no qualms and brings their faces close. Jungkook is left without a choice as he rests his hands on Namjoon’s thighs and leans over to meet Hoseok’s steady gaze.

“If it were anyone else, I would recommend them learn how to accept these compliments but your reactions are unfairly precious. I foresee many more in our future so prepare yourself, pumpkin. You will understand soon that I am not one to mince my words.”

“I think I understand already. I find your comfort with honesty admirable, Hoseok-hyung. I can see why Namjoon-hyung fell for you.”

Surprise fills Hoseok and Jungkook is proud that he put it there.

“You are not the only one adept at speaking pretty words. I have spent long enough around Namjoon-hyung to pick up a thing or two,” Jungkook giggles. “I will accept all your compliments about my baking. I may not know how to carry myself with as much grace as you but I am confident with my skills.”

A smile returns to Hoseok’s heart-shaped lips and he’s finally leaning back. Jungkook hides the shaky sigh he lets out as Namjoon helps him back to an upstanding position.

“Namjoon-ah, you hid this sweetheart far too well.”

“I fear not well enough,” Namjoon says as he casually plays with the loose strands on the back of Jungkook’s head.

“You just want me as your dirty, little secret, huh, hyung?” Jungkook smiles. His hand slips around Namjoon’s shoulders when the man shows no signs of letting him go.

“Dirty? Never. Just my own hidden gem.”

“Hm, I’m not sure how I feel about being compared to an inanimate object.”

“So it’s okay when Hoseok calls you an array of pastries and desserts but you draw the line at me calling you a gem?”

“Seems so when you’re so awfully easy to tease, hyung.”

Jungkook’s giggles are interrupted by Namjoon twisting and drawing him effortlessly onto his lap. Jungkook gasps as his body follows the hands without his command. With Hoseok now positioned behind him, he gets a clear view of Yoongi’s attentive gaze, gentle in the same way as before. The fondness that sparkles suggests he’s likely familiar with Hoseok’s and Namjoon’s antics.

When Jungkook glances down, he finds Namjoon’s bottom lip jutted out.

“Are you sulking, hyung?” Jungkook laughs as he tickles the man’s chin. “If you let me go, I’ll go get you a cinnamon donut, free of charge.”

“Between a cinnamon donut and you, I’d rather have you.”

Having the attention on him makes Jungkook lose some of his bravado and instead of his usual quips, he sinks into Namjoon’s hold with a scrunch of his nose.

“I need to get a lemon madeleine for Hoseok-hyung.”

“He can wait.”

“I can wait,” Hoseok affirms cheerfully.

“I have to prepare for the lunch customers,” Jungkook tries.

“Why don’t you close the bakery and give us a private tasting session instead?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at Namjoon’s joke; he thinks it’s a joke at least. The seriousness on Namjoon’s face is attempting to tell him otherwise but Jungkook ignores it. He can see it, the parallels between Namjoon and his lovers and the trio he’d met yesterday. It’s hard to tamp down the foreboding sense of conflict that seems upon him.

He turns to Yoongi instead this time with a new objective and plan in mind.

“Yoongi-ssi, do you have a favourite fruit?”

“Just hyung, Jungkook-ah. I have always loved mandarins.”

“Wonderful! I have a perfect mandarin cheesecake for you, hyung. It’s just a little sweeter than the yuzu, strawberry and pistachio mousse cake,” Jungkook teases as Yoongi shakes his head in amusement.

“Peaches, are you trying to make all of us addicted to you?” Hoseok interrupts. Jungkook strains his neck to look at the man.

“How else do you think I keep my business running?”

“Downright wicked.”

Jungkook throws his head back as he cackles heartily. Hoseok’s laugh joins him and even through his delight, he still rests a steadying hand between Jungkook’s shoulder blades to keep him from completely tipping Namjoon’s stool over.

When they’ve calmed down, Hoseok keeps Jungkook twisted towards him, everything about his stare demanding Jungkook’s attention.

“I understand how precious your time is so we will not be in your way much longer. How about you prepare us the lemon madeleine, mandarin cheesecake and cinnamon donut and then we will be on our way?”

“Of course, hyung.”

“I would still like a selection of desserts to be taken home with us but you have free rein over what to package. Will that be alright, gumdrop?”

“Absolutely, hyung.”

“Now, Namjoon tells me you do not accept his money however, I insist that we compensate you for the time we have taken from you, the excellent service we have received and the beyond remarkable desserts we have enjoyed. Please name your price and allow us to pay what is owed.”

“Yes, hyung.”

“Good boy.”

Jungkook breathes a little harder as Hoseok rewards him with a pleased smile that has his heart fluttering and toes curling. Namjoon’s finally releasing him from his impossibly sturdy hug but it takes Jungkook a moment to recover before he’s all but fleeing to complete the tasks Hoseok has assigned.

Once he’s plated the desired desserts and served them, Jungkook busies himself with ensuring that the rest of the packaged treats are immaculate. He’s sung another round of praises as the trio cleans their plates and soon, he’s sending them off with sweet smiles and another promise of return.

Jungkook is floating for the rest of the day.

♕

It’s been a day since Jungkook had met Yoongi and Hoseok officially and his time has been filled with scattered messages from the trio. They’d made their way through most of Jungkook’s baked goods and he’d received a constant stream of compliments. Jungkook tries hard to not giggle randomly throughout the day when he recalls the words, sweeter than his desserts.

Humming softly under his breath, Jungkook clears the crumbs left behind by the lunch customers off his counter. He switches the sign to ‘closed’ as he takes his own break.

Jungkook’s scrolling mindlessly through his phone with a half-finished croissant in his hand when the bell jingles. He drops the pastry and sits up straight, ready to inform the customer that the bakery is temporarily closed, when a familiar face pops in. Not one that he welcomes.

Immediately, a frown takes over Jungkook's face and he forces himself to remain calm as two despicably ethereal faces join the first. It's ridiculous, Jungkook thinks, that Taehyung would dare to look sheepish after agreeing to Jungkook's explicit request last time.

"The store is closed as clearly shown on the sign. Or do you have such a disregard for me and my business that you feel the need to ruin my break too?"

"We're here to apologise, properly this time," Taehyung murmurs.

"Those were your intentions last week. What should I believe has changed since then?"

“Well, we’re definitely not here to hand you our money this time?” Jimin pipes in.

“Well done,” Jungkook replies drily. He finds satisfaction in the way Seokjin’s face reddens in his effort to bite his tongue.

“I wanted to thank you for the condensed milk bread,” Taehyung perseveres in a gentle tone that contradicts Seokjin’s scowl. “It was exquisite. It has been a while since food has been able to bring comfort and warmth to me. I understand why your bakery thrives in such a difficult location.”

Jungkook presses his lips together. He tries, he does, to be unimpressed by the man’s flattery but the sincerity lying in Taehyung’s kind eyes is making it hard.

“We sincerely apologise for the offence we have caused with our careless words. Even if your bakery were struggling, it is not our place to make such comments and speak to you in a demeaning manner. We understand that our regret will not erase the hurt we caused but we hope that this could lead us in the right direction.”

“Are you apologising on his behalf?” Jungkook asks, nodding at Seokjin.

“I would prefer for it to come from me however, I fear that will only irritate you further,” the man mutters.

“That’s true. I am tempted to say you do not know what an apology is.”

Seokjin’s eyebrows draw lower but it’s a look of indignance and injustice rather than vexation. It’s rather charming, as absurd as that may be.

Jungkook gnaws on the inside of his cheek, apprehensive of Taehyung’s poise. Eventually, under the man’s unwavering smile, Jungkook deflates.

“I accept your apology and I’m glad you enjoyed the condensed milk bread. That’s all I ask for.”

The relief and felicity that alights Taehyung’s face is almost blinding. The innocence in the man’s smile makes Jungkook falter. Seokjin’s expression has mellowed out now but he appears hesitant to wear his emotions unlike Jimin, who bounces on his toes in excitement.

“May we have the honour of tasting your other goods?” Jimin requests.

Jungkook eyes his unfinished croissant and pushes it aside with a quiet sigh.

“Only if you don’t offer to pay me more than I ask for.”

“Whatever you wish.”

“What would you like to try then?”

“We’ll take your recommendations,” Taehyung smiles.

“A slice of tiramisu? I recall someone saying sweet foods haven’t been faring well with their skin,” Jungkook can’t help but tease as he hops off his stool.

A high-pitched and low-pitched laugh fill the bakery. With a quick glance in the direction of the trio, Jungkook finds Seokjin’s face eased with small quirks of the corners of his lips.

“Was that a jab at me, little one?” Seokjin says. The man’s ease crumbles when Jungkook’s face shifts into another frown. “Did I say something offensive again?”

“Are you calling me that to belittle me?”

“‘Little one’? It was a term of endearment, not a reference to your inexperience with the world,” Seokjin states calmly. His head is tilted in confusion like he cannot hear the words coming out of his own mouth.

Jungkook blinks several times as his mind is sent reeling. He can’t decide if he wants to feel flustered or insulted. Before he can settle on an emotion, Jimin swoops forward and obscures his view of Seokjin.

“We would love some tiramisu,” the man redirects with a glittery smile. Jungkook stares at him warily before turning to gesture at the stools.

“Have a seat then.”

Jungkook clears his plate of half-eaten croissant and makes his way to the front counter to prepare three slices of tiramisu. He doesn’t let the several pairs of eyes bother him. Perhaps, they’re watching to ensure he doesn’t inject poison into the cake. Jungkook feels like he’s finally starting to have a grasp on this trio and their strange, contradictory methods.

After serving all three slices, Jungkook hides back behind the counter, finishing his croissant whilst checking inventory. He’s hesitant to check in on the trio and resists the urge to glance over. Jungkook is certain their criticism would be less constructive and more destructive to him.

Why their opinions matter though, is beyond him. Jungkook frowns at the display as he attempts to solve his feelings.

He doesn’t notice Taehyung approaching the counter until the man chuckles beneath his breath.

“Have the pastries offended you?”

Jungkook snaps out of his thoughts at the sudden voice and shakes his head sheepishly. Taehyung’s holding his empty plate, looking just as unsure as Jungkook is feeling.

“Let me take that,” Jungkook offers, stretching his arm over to take the crockery back. Taehyung steps quickly out of Jungkook’s reach and cradles the plate close to his chest. Jungkook opens his mouth, frowning in confusion before noticing the panicked twist of Taehyung’s features.

“Bitter tastes do not usually agree with my tongue but I thought your tiramisu was absolutely marvellous,” Taehyung explains hurriedly. His voice quietens at the shock on Jungkook’s face. “Seokjin-hyung said the yuzu, strawberry and pistachio mousse cake looked rather appetising. I was wondering if we could try that too?”

“You enjoyed the tiramisu?” Jungkook asks, unable to conceal the disbelief in his voice.

“We all did. Your expertise in crafting such magnificent baked goods is unrivalled.”

“Oh, th-thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Jungkook lowers his gaze at the soft smile that he’s met with. Taehyung is a confusing mix of bashful and unbridled sincerity.

“If my intention of calling you ‘little one’ is only as a term of endearment, will I be allowed to?”

“Okay,” Jungkook smiles. “I guess you may for as long as your intentions are pure.”

“Does that honour extend to us as well?” Jimin asks, appearing out of thin air.

Jungkook can’t help it when his guard raises on instinct and his smile lessens. Taehyung, noticing his discomfort, places a hand on Jimin’s arm and gestures for him to retreat. Jungkook watches Jimin’s face fall solemn and his shoulders slump, dejected. Jimin listens to Taehyung though as he makes his way back to Seokjin.

“Why do you all insist on calling me little? I’m definitely taller and older than you, Jimin-ssi,” Jungkook braves.

Jimin swivels around so gracefully, it’s like he’d anticipated Jungkook’s tease. The expression he adorns is one of amusement as his eyes scan Jungkook. When he finds what he’s looking for, the man leans forward, over the counter, to level Jungkook with a steadfast smile. The aura the man is radiating holds enough self-assurance that a sliver of doubt crawls into Jungkook.

“Would you be confident to place a wager on that?”

“The prize?”

“Anything you would like, little one,” Jimin grins. Challenged, Jungkook narrows his eyes playfully as he, too, rests his weight on his elbows.

“You’re on. If I’m older than you, you’re baking me a cake.”

“I am not sure you would like that.”

“Backing down already?” Jungkook provokes. Jimin only smiles ominously.  

“I’m 28.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, leaning back. His nose scrunches and he diverts his gaze. “You’re old.”

Jimin’s response is more of a cackle than a laugh but the man looks far from offended. Taehyung’s relief sits in his quiet smile as he watches them.

“May I call you ‘little one’ then?”

“I suppose,” Jungkook sighs but the mirth on his face betrays his pretend exasperation.

When Jungkook dares to, he spares Seokjin a glance too and finds the man sitting alone in the farthest seat, observing them with analytical eyes. It’s the moment that their eyes meet that has Seokjin turning away. Sympathy softens Jungkook’s heart and drives him to approach Seokjin with careful steps. He bounces on the balls of his feet to catch the man’s attention and watches as Seokjin’s face melts into something abnormally gentle.

“Was the tiramisu okay?” Jungkook asks.

Seokjin nods.

“Would you like to try a slice of the yuzu, strawberry and pistachio mousse cake?”

Seokjin nods again.

“Are you going to refrain from talking to me?” Jungkook smiles.

“Lest I offend you with my words again. I did not mean to denigrate you when I spoke of your lack of experience with the world.”

“What did you mean then?” Jungkook asks. He takes a seat beside Seokjin and promises himself to finish the conversation civilly. The man presses his lips into a line, hesitating.

“It is often the pursuit of wealth, knowledge and power that blind men. While it is commendable to not be driven by the primal urges of greed and envy, I do believe your unwillingness to accept our money stems from a lack of experience in owning such. It is generally harder to resist temptations once we have had a taste. In conclusion, I neither intended to offend you by calling you ‘little one’ nor do I necessarily think your inexperience is something to be looked down upon.”

“Are your compliments always backhanded, Seokjin-ssi?”

“They sound positive in my head.”

Jungkook laughs breathily at Seokjin’s genuine confusion. He’s beginning to understand the good intentions behind Seokjin’s unique unawareness of his own words.

“Alright, you may call me what you wish, as long as it’s not to degrade me. Now let me get you that slice of cake, Seokjin-ssi.”

“Wait,” Seokjin says, stopping Jungkook with a grip around his elbow. Up close, Jungkook catches a whiff of something sophisticated, like white rose and sycamore. It’s rather befitting for the man. Jungkook cannot move himself away from Seokjin’s gentle gaze. “It is only right that you drop the honorifics.”

“Are you my hyung too?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Then I will get you your cake, Seokjin-hyung.”

“And ours!” Jimin adds. “Don’t forget about Taehyung’s and mine.”

“Couldn’t forget even if I tried.”

“Hey!” Taehyung exclaims. “Don’t try.”

Jungkook barely realises there’s a silly grin sitting on his face as he plates three slices of the yuzu, strawberry and pistachio mousse cake onto the men’s plates. Jimin and Taehyung are still hovering near him. Jungkook has no qualms ordering them to take their own plates back to the counter, although it does surprise him when they do so without as much as a peep of complaint.

Setting Seokjin’s plate down, he sits down beside the man and watches him marvel the cake from several angles.

“I have changed my mind,” Seokjin says. Before offence can settle in Jungkook’s heart, the man continues, “This is too beautiful to be consumed.”

The way Namjoon’s words had mirrored Seokjin’s floats into his mind. Jungkook’s cheeks colour at the compliment.

“Just eat it, hyung,” Jungkook mumbles. He’s looking down because he doesn’t want to see the amusement sitting on Seokjin’s handsome face.

“But I cannot find the courage to destroy such remarkable craftmanship.”

“Alright. Then I guess I’ll eat it for you,” Jungkook shrugs. Seokjin shoots an arm out to stop his creeping fingers from stealing the plate.

“Cruel. You are deceivingly cruel, little one.”

Jungkook wears a smile, sweet like his cake, before taking Seokjin’s fork and digging away a sizable piece of cake. Seokjin gasps like the fork had hurt him. Jungkook cannot refrain his eyes from rolling back.

“Would you like me to feed you too, hyung?”

“My words may have unknowingly carried discourtesy but you are outright disparaging me,” Seokjin says. Petulance is all Jungkook can interpret from the man’s press of lips. Jungkook giggles, chin resting on his hand and head tilted innocently.

“My apologies.”

“You are far from apologetic, little one. It is fortunate you have such a charming smile.”

Seokjin doesn’t wait to see Jungkook’s surprise before picking up the piece of cake that had been broken away and feeding himself. A deep exhale escapes Seokjin as the man frowns at the cake.

“Is it not to your satisfaction?” Jungkook asks carefully, heart pounding anxiously.

“Nothing of the sort. I am pondering how well your goods would do away from this derelict district. It is only too easy to judge a book by its cover as I have.”

“Well perhaps, rather than my relocation, it should be the teachings of children that change.”

“What do you suppose they learn?”

“I believe there should be more emphasis that wealth does not equate to worth.”

“I should not foresee an end to your barbed words, should I, little one?”

“That one was truly not said to spite you,” Jungkook laughs. “Although, you really must be contrite to be associating my words with your previous actions.”

“That is because I have not properly apologised. My feelings have only been conveyed through Taehyung.”

“I’m genuinely not offended anymore by your previous words, hyung.”

“That must be due to my excellent apology,” Taehyung adds. Jungkook laughs as Taehyung applauds himself with a pat on the shoulder.

“I think it lacked a little pizazz.”

“What would you rather us have done?” Jimin asks with a calculating grin. “A flair for dramatics is right up my alley. I could still have an apology with an abundance of pizazz be organised.”

“Your money will not impress me, hyung.”

“How can you remain so indifferent in the face of wealth? Does it not tempt you at all? Your bakery could grow into a prosperous business if you allow it,” Seokjin muses.

“It’s not money that makes my life rich, Seokjin-hyung. It’s my love for baking and my friends and family that make me happy. I don’t think I’d enjoy a life that revolves around how many dollars I had in my pocket.”

“But one cannot live without money.”

“I’m not saying I don’t need money because everyone does. It’s just simply not my priority.”

“So it would be great if your mind did not have to occupy itself with money at all and focus its brilliance on baking instead,” Seokjin hums to himself.

“Stop whatever mischief and nonsense you’re concocting,” Jungkook says, eyes narrowed in deep suspicion.

“‘Mischief’. ‘Nonsense’. He said hyung was concocting ‘nonsense’,” Jimin cackles as his body falls onto Taehyung with his bout of laughter.

“That is deeply insulting,” Seokjin huffs.

“But did I not speak the truth? Were you not plotting something I’d undoubtedly object to?”

“Perhaps, but—”

“No buts. Your actions will only earn you another reason to apologise.”

“I do not like to be interrupted, little one.”

“Well, you better get used to it, hyung,” Jungkook retaliates, even as his instincts want to curl away from Seokjin’s disapproving frown. “I predict there’ll be a lot more fiddle-faddle coming from you that I’ll have no choice but to put a stop to.”

“F-Fiddle-faddle?” Seokjin splutters incredulously.

“Yes. And stop laughing Jimin-hyung. You’re not off the hook either. Your record for speaking sense is far from stellar.”

Jimin immediately presses his lips together, scolded. Seokjin has yet to recover from his shock and merely stares at Jungkook with a look unfit for his refinement.

“Only you, Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung grins. “Would dare speak to us like that.”

“What more is there to fear? You’ve already threatened to destroy one of the things I treasure the most.”

A solemn cast falls over the trio’s faces and Jungkook immediately wants to take back his carelessly spoken words. He’s forgiven them; the incident is better forgotten.

“Those words were entirely unreasonable and should never have left Seokjin-hyung’s mouth,” Taehyung murmurs. “I promise you we will never ruin something you love so much.”

He glances over at Seokjin, who is doing his best to avoid Jungkook’s gaze. Taking it upon himself to take the initiative to resolve the tension, Jungkook places a hand on the sleeve of Seokjin’s tan suit.

“Even if I insult or interrupt hyung again?” Jungkook asks quietly. Seokjin finally meets Jungkook’s gaze with a contemplative one of his own. It’s not unkind but it bears unwavering heaviness that demands Jungkook’s attention. The man straightens, regaining the grandeur that stands on his shoulders, before turning his body to face Jungkook.

“I am not often tested,” Seokjin says. “But the words I had given to you that day were ignominious and have left me greatly remorseful. As you may have deduced, my thoughts are often conveyed in a way that is easily misconstrued, a fault that is evidently on my part. I may never amply rectify my mistake, however, Jungkook-ah, my heart does not wish to harm you again. Please accept my sincerest apology.”

“Seems like I was wrong, hyung,” Jungkook smiles. “That was definitely a satisfactory apology. I forgive you.”

Seokjin laughs, chucking him beneath the chin and Jungkook responds by leaning in with his own little giggle.

“Why, shouldn’t I be grateful for your benevolence, dear little one.”

Jungkook’s nose scrunches at both the warmth in Seokjin’s eyes and the familiarity and ease behind the man’s use of moniker.

“While I despise being interrupted, I give you permission to do so if you think my words may hurt you again. Or better yet, perhaps you could educate me on how my words are unpleasant. I may not understand it to the fullest extent but I am willing to try.”

“Are you sure, hyung? I won’t mince my words if you have said something rude.”

“I am sure. I find your audacious ability to speak your mind refreshing.”

“Backhanded again, Seokjin-hyung.”

“How so?”

“You are suggesting I’m reckless.”

“Is that incorrect?”

“It… might be true but when you’re complimenting someone, you should only stick to the positive attributes.”

“I see. Like how you praised my appearance and derided my personality in the same sentence?” Seokjin grins as Jungkook’s face brightens.

“That- That wasn’t supposed to be a compliment at all. I was only objectively stating facts.”

“‘Objective’.”

“Stop teasing me. You think my smile is charming.”

“I do,” Seokjin admits casually. “I also think your eyes sparkle like diamonds and the way your nose crinkles when you are feeling shy is unbelievably precious.”

“Are you trying to fluster me?”

“I am merely objectively stating facts.”

“I think that was pretty subjective, hyung,” Jimin comments.

“Whose side are you on?”

“Jungkookie’s, of course.”

“Wise of you to not get in my bad books, Jimin-hyung.”

“Although, I do agree with all of Seokjin-hyung’s descriptions—”

Jungkook pressing his lips into a fine line has Jimin’s thoughts ceasing immediately. The man shrinks behind Taehyung, petulant like Seokjin. Jungkook resists a proud grin from gracing his face in fear of losing his power. The only man who has yet to contribute leans forward with a soft and curious smile.

“Why does it bother you, our compliments?”

“You heard Seokjin-hyung. I’m shy.”

“Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung says with an unexpected firmness like he can see right through Jungkook.

Taehyung had seemed neither like a man of no nonsense nor a man of quiet authority. Jungkook sighs, feeling like he’s the one on the receiving end of a gentle chiding. He fidgets with his fingers as his mind tries to find the right words. When he lifts his head, Taehyung is still gazing patiently at him.

“Because your words sound empty, hyung. You came back to apologise and you’ve done that now. I’ve already forgiven you; you don’t need to keep buttering me up. If you want more pastries and desserts, I’m happy to sell them to you.”

“Have we acted so disgracefully that you think we’d compliment your appearance with an ulterior motive of obtaining your baked goods?”

“Well, no? I just… I don’t understand why you’re still here. You clearly have more important things to do than to waste your time here and ingratiate yourself with me.”

“Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung frowns. There’s something close to disappointment in his voice that already makes Jungkook regret his words. “It’s our choice where we spend our time and right now, we are choosing to spend it here. It just so happens that the three of us have become a little smitten with the charismatic baker and want to get to know him better. I apologise if our compliments have been unwarranted but they are far from empty.”

“So you just… want to be my friend? That’s why you’re all being nice to me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, speechless.

“We can stop the compliments if they are causing you discomfort.”

“No, you don’t have to. Just because I don’t know how to take compliments, doesn’t mean I don’t like them.”

“If I say that is very endearing, will I be in your bad books?”

“If you plan to ask that every time you compliment me, then yes.”

“Ah, what a cunning tongue you have, little one.”

“All the better to scold you with, my dear,” Jungkook smiles. Taehyung’s answering laugh is contagious and spreads to his companions like wildfire.

“I know why you contain yourself to running your business in a small district. The rest of the world is not prepared to meet you.”

“Because I’m too much of a delight?” Jungkook grins playfully as Taehyung cups his cheeks.

“An absolute force to be reckoned with. You’d have the world at your feet with only a smile.”

“What a dangerous weapon I have. Are you suggesting I hide it?”

“Never in our presence.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just a ploy for me to not smile at others?”

“Oh, how astute you are, little one.”

Jungkook throws his head back as laughter blankets the bakery. Taehyung has his hands resting on Jungkook’s thighs, keeping him from falling off his stool and onto Seokjin, though Taehyung secretly thinks the man wouldn’t mind. Jungkook’s joy pairs well with the cosiness of his bakery.

“Tell us, little one,” Jimin says when Jungkook finally recomposes himself. “Do you have someone in your life, who gets to see your smile on the daily?”

“Hm.” Jungkook scrunches his face up, a serious glint in his eyes. He knows what Jimin means but it’s not in his nature to answer directly. “Plentiful. I’m afraid I’ve lost count.”

“Aside from your regular customers,” Seokjin says, his tone chiding. Jungkook faces the man with a pout that Taehyung only now thinks would rival his smile in power.

“You’re no fun. No, I do not have a partner. What about you, hyung?” Jungkook asks only for Jimin’s lips to curl in amusement.

“You’re sitting next to them.”

“Oh.”

The way Jungkook’s head swivels between the three of them resembles that of a meerkat on sentry duty. Triads must be a popular combination amongst the aristocratic class, Jungkook ponders.

“Will that be a problem?” Jimin asks cautiously at his lack of reply.

“The only problem I see here is that you have two people loving you and I have none,” Jungkook sighs with a pout full of faux self-pity.

“That is definitely a problem that needs to be remedied. How may we assist?”

“You can help by steering clear of my potential partners. We wouldn’t want you accidentally insulting them.”

“Your vicious words wound us,” Jimin bemoans as he clutches the area of his chest where his heart lies. “I fear I need one of those bomboloni over there to mend what your words have broken.”

Jungkook cackles, body shaking with the evidence of his mirth. It’s hard for the men to hold a serious expression in the presence of Jungkook’s joy and he finds their composure falling apart like apple crumble. Swinging his legs out, Jungkook hops off his stool.

“Three bomboloni coming right up. I may have to ask you to leave afterwards though. My lunch break is coming to an end and I’ll need to open up again.”

“Why can’t we stay?”

“And scare away my regulars? Maybe another day, hyung. I’ll have to give everyone plenty of warning.”

“It is an honour for them to be in our presence,” Seokjin states.

“I’m not sure everyone would share that sentiment.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for Seokjin’s presumably aghast response before wandering back to the counter and transferring three, perfectly round bomboloni from the display to the men’s plates. He’s rewarded with another round of pleased groans and compliments that has him biting his cheek.

“Little one, will you package some treats for us to eat later? We will pay you kindly.”

“Do you have any particular requests, hyung? Nothing too sweet?” Jungkook smiles.

“Will I ever hear the end of it?”

“Never.”

“Very well,” Seokjin sighs, resigning himself to his fate. “You may choose whatever you deem fit for my bitter heart.”

Jungkook giggles, finding warmth in Seokjin’s ability to run with the joke and poke fun at himself. The one sentence seems to bring Seokjin down from the clouds, almost like the man’s starting to turn to the same page as Jungkook. With Jimin and Taehyung sharing his joy with boisterous, unrestrained laughter, it’s hard for Jungkook to keep his heartbeats in check. He flees away from the bar counter to complete his task.

Similar to the previous day, Jungkook packages an assortment of pastries and desserts into brown, bakery boxes and sends them off, wearing a smile coupled with an eye roll, courtesy of Jimin’s extravagant promise to return.

Jungkook soon realises that the trio are fun, albeit a little of the exhausting kind. They come and go and often leave behind a confusing mixture of frazzle, heartiness and warmth. Jimin appears to bear tireless vivacity while Seokjin carries a confidence that does not always cause his words to be crafted kindly. Taehyung serves as the only respite between the two intense personalities and even then, Jungkook occasionally feels an impenetrable wall between them.

It’s been two weeks since Jungkook has forgiven them and he has finally grown accustomed to Seokjin’s directness. Usually, he takes the man’s remarks in one ear and lets it leave right out the other. When he has the energy and Seokjin has taken it too far, Jungkook will give the man an earful that results in Seokjin nodding along with reverence.

The man is making another comment about Jungkook’s wasted talents when the bell rings. Jungkook tries to withhold his sigh of relief.

“Jungkookie!” Namjoon’s voice calls.

He turns just in time to witness his friend’s face curl into a dimpled smile, one hand held up in an exaggerated wave. He’s followed by Hoseok, grinning as always, and Yoongi, expressionless as always.

It’s only because Jungkook faces them that he sees the exact moment the emotions, or lack thereof, dissolve into shock.

With the distinct click of the door closing, Jungkook finds himself standing in the middle of a battlefield.

♕