#my insecure lil poot

[btsvt-adventures]

The Dinner Date Mistake

Title: The Dinner Date Mistake Pairing: Jimin x Jungkook, hints of Yoongi x Taehyung Warnings: Swearing, cute fluff, slight implication of sexy times but nothing very R Rated~ Word Count: 2,364

A/N: This was based off this prompt I saw, but I can't remember where, so if this is yours, hit me up and I'll credit you! ^^ - Admin Soojin 

*Note: This is also crossposted on my AO3 here! 

So you knock on my door saying you live across my apartment, and you’re asking me to make food for you even though we’ve never met?

When Jungkook decided he was making roast chicken and sweet potatoes, he meant for himself. Not this decidedly very cute guy at his door begging for help. He sighs, letting the stranger –his neighbour apparently– into his house.

“So, you want me to give up my beautifully roasted chicken and my perfectly glazed sweet potatoes for you?” he asks bluntly, letting a tinge of his Busan satoori slip. The smaller man –Jimin– with pretty pastel pink hair and an ass that could kill (Jungkook was not ogling…. much), nods eagerly.

“Please, I always smell the food from your place  and it always smells delicious and I may or may not have lied to my date that I can cook and now he’s coming over in like half an hour please help me,” Jimin pouts cutely at him, and Jungkook can’t bring himself to refuse.

He glances at his chicken longingly, wishing he could at least eat some of it, but any part that was cut off would be too obvious. He’s very iffy about sharing, and even more possessive about his food, but something just wants to give Jimin anything he wants, if not just for him to smile again.

He’s got such a fucking pretty smile, Jungkook thinks as he takes the perfectly roasted chicken out to rest. Whoa, chill Kook you barely know him. What if he’s a serial killer who lied to you to get into your house? Jungkook shakes his head while grabbing the sweet potatoes, small smile forming at the ridiculousness of his inner monologue.

I’m sure he’s a nice guy, he thinks to himself, turning his attention on his, well Jimin’s now, sweet potatoes, focusing on not overglazing them (he tries not to think too hard about that one time he cooked for Seokjin hyung). Jungkook tends to have these internal debates, especIally if he’s nervous, even if they sometimes don’t end well.

Just say he’s a nice guy? Or make a joke about hoping he’s not a serial killer. Just start small talk, It’s not that hard??? Jungkook sighs, still stirring the potatoes carefully. Don’t be so awkward Jeon–

“YOU’RE A NICE SERIAL KILLER!” Jungkook nearly yells, and Jimin stares at him, stunned, before breaking out into a full bodied laugh. Jungkook can’t decide if he wants to smack himself or just die by faceplanting into the pan.

“Thanks, I think,” Jimin chortles, and Jungkook turns away from the pastel haired boy, cheeks flushed bright red while he stirs the potatoes, feeling satisfaction leak into him when he sees the thin shiny layer of sugar coating the potatoes.

Jimin sits at the dining table to watch Jungkook cook, cheek resting in his palm, and a strange… warmth growing in his belly. It’s not desire (not yet anyway), but it’s almost like… content. He’s content to watch a complete stranger cook dinner for him, like they’re a domestic couple and Jungkook’s his boyfriend who sometimes says strange things.

Yah, Park Jimin you have a date with Kim Taehyung, hottie with Yaoi hands that could probably choke you the way you want, get your shit together and stop mooning after your tall, hot neighbour, he wants to shake himself, but accidentally stubs his toe, and curses loudly, startling Jungkook.

“Sorry, but fuck that hurt,” he groans, standing up and bending over to rub his poor toe.

Jungkook’s frozen, staring at the newfound glory of Jimin’s ass, and he knows he’s fucked. Jimin’s ass is perky and round, forming a perfect peach in those tight ripped jeans of his. His ass looks good and this asshole (pun fully intended) knows it.

“Quit staring, I can feel your eyes drilling holes into my ass,” Jimin snorts weakly, still trying to recover from his accident (He’ll never admit the slither of heat that pools in his belly from Jungkook’s intense gaze), and Jungkook jerks so hard he hears a crack, stumbling over his apologies as he hurries to pack the food for Jimin to bring back.

Jimin half wants Jungkook to tug his arm and ask him to stay, like in those clichéd dramas his mom loves watching, but they’re both guys, both shy, and Jimin is going to be late.

“T-thanks for this, I’ll return the favour eventually, promise,” Jimin stutters, cheeks flushing lightly as his brain conjured up all the filthy ways he’d like to repay Jeon Jungkook. The younger grins slightly at him, showing off his bunny teeth and the adorable way his eyes scrunch up as he holds the door open.

“Sure hyung, you know where to find me,” Jungkook laughs, winking, and Jimin giggles nervously, practically dashing out of the apartment and back into the temporary sanctuary of his apartment.

Jimin’s heart is still pounding from his encounter with Jungkook not five minutes ago, but he needs to get ready for his date with Taehyung. He pretties himself up with a little bit of eyeliner and eyeshadow (and concealer of course), just to give himself some definition, and sets about plating everything that Jungkook’s prepared. He opens the container that the chicken is in, and moans from how good it smells. The chicken’s glistening, already carved so Jimin won’t have to butcher it later, with soft baby carrots and vegetables soaking up the juice from the chicken.

He thinks fleetingly that he should be eating this with Jungkook, but shakes the thought away, hurrying to get the chicken, sauce and sides on a nice big plate so it’ll look like he didn’t just buy takeout (which he technically didn’t, but eating from a container is so classless).

Jimin’s just getting the last of the sweet potatoes onto another plate when a loud knock on his door startles him. He glances at the clock, dumping the containers in the trash (thank god they were disposables), and hurries to the door, shaking out the tension in his shoulders before opening his door.

Kim Taehyung is.... Beautiful. There’s nothing else to say about it. Taller (by only 4cm, but it feels like so much more), with mesmerizing eyes and a blinding smile, Jimin’s stunned at how good Taehyung looks. Taehyung on the other hand, just wants to kiss Jimin (or fuck him, he hasn’t decided yet). Pastel hair contrasting prettily against his honey skin, hands small and twisting in his too-long shirt sleeve, ripped jeans that reveal smooth strong thighs.

“I know I’m irresistible but I think we should eat first,” Taehyung breaks their staring (read: ogling) match with a quirk of his lips. “I mean you put in all this effort into making dinner, I can smell it all the way from here, and I’m starving,” he winks salaciously at Jimin, and nearly coos when the smaller’s cheeks flush a dainty pink.

Min Yoongi eat your fucking heart out.

Taehyung never intended for this to happen, not a date like this anyway. He’d just seen Jimin at a club, dancing like he didn’t have a care in the world, slut dropping for anyone who was willing to look his way, and Taehyung was definitely willing. He isn’t heartbroken per se (he’s completely broken), but seeing Jimin dance like that made things a little less painful. It put a small grin onto Taehyung’s unusually sullen face, and made the rock in his chest the slightest bit lighter.

He follows Jimin’s mop of pretty hair into the dining room, humming with approval at the chic light blue walls with sleek monochrome furniture, but his attention is drawn to the food on the table, and his mouth waters.

“Holy shit you actually can cook!” Taehyung exclaims, eyes taking in the food, and Jimin lets out a nervous laugh, pulling the chair out for Taehyung like a gentleman.

Not like Min Yoongi, that asshole.

No. Taehyung isn’t going to think about his shithead of an ex-boyfriend; he’s going to focus on this adorable cutie sitting across him, looking at him like he had saved Korea in his past life. Jimin nudges the plate of chicken towards Taehyung, and he blinks, grinning boxily and taking a drumstick, biting into it heartily, groaning when the richness and juiciness explodes in his mouth.

“Fuck why didn’t I meet you first? Yoongi hyung could barely fry a fucking egg,” Taheyung moans, nearly inhaling the bone with how good the chicken in. Jimin giggles, feeling a swell of pride that Taehyung’s enjoying Jungkook’s cooking– Jesus Park Jimin stop thinking about him you’re on a date right now!

“Yoongi hyung…?” Jimin asks carefully, taking the other drumstick and eagerly digging in, suppressing a groan when the flavours hit his tongue.

Taehyung wrinkles his nose with slight distaste, but his shoulders sag in a way that Jimin can only describe as broken-ness. He sets the chicken down, turning wide, sadness filled eyes to Jimin, and he feels his already bleeding heart ache with sorrow.

Jungkook hates himself. Well, not really but he really wishes he had the balls to ask Jimin to stay, to share the chicken with him, not the cute bowl haired boy he saw knock on Jimin’s apartment door earlier (he did not stalk… he was heading to the convenience store for ramyun and instant rice). Jungkook sighs heavily, punching the pillow and pouting.

He wants to eat the chicken, he wants to talk to the cute pastel haired boy who lives across the hallway, see his pretty smile and perfect peachy ass, maybe kiss and nip at those fucking plump lips and– fuck he’s getting hard for his pretty neighbour.

He shakes his head, deciding a very cold shower, his makeshift dinner and some Overwatch will do him some good (or so he hopes).

This was a horrible idea, Jimin thinks, no less than an hour later, when Taehyung’s sobbing his eyes out in apology. It’s not that Taehyung’s an awful date, god he’s great, and any other time he’s sure Taehyung would’ve made him fall head over heels, but just… not right now.

“I still love him,” Taehyung wails into the ice cream that Jimin dug out of his freezer. “I only asked you out because I was upset and wanted to make Yoongi hyung jealous and you were slut dropping so sexily, Jimin-ah I’m so s-sorr-SORRY,” he sobs, and Jimin can only pat him on the back, ignoring the twinge of rejection and ouch, I was only a rebound.

“Hey, if you still love him, then go tell his stupid ass that you still love him, and that your argument was stupid, and that you still want to move in with him, you were just scared,” Jimin coaxes Taehyung gently, and the elder whimpers softly, nodding and mumbling his apologies, quietly asking for the bathroom so he won’t look like such a wreck.

Jimin laughs lightly. “I’ll even help you with your makeup, mm? I’m pretty sure we’re about the same shade anyway,” he offers kindly, and Taehyung just nods, nose red and eyes puffy from all the crying.

Twenty minutes later, some more convincing, and a little more pushing, Taehyung’s on his way with a wide, hopeful grin on his face, any trace of his sobfest hidden under the makeup, and a promise to stay in touch with Jimin (mostly so Jimin can know if Tae’s stupid ass actually managed to make up with this Yoongi guy). He slumps, staring at the still warm chicken, sitting temptingly in the oven, and a shit eating grin makes its way onto his face. He grabs it, nearly dropping the plate bc it’s hot, damn it, and carefully dumps the untouched sweet potatoes onto the plate. It doesn’t look half bad, save the missing thighs, but Jimin figures he’ll have to make it up to Jungkook… if he’ll even forgive him for stealing his dinner like that.

Jungkook sighs heavily (he really needs to stop sighing, it’s going to give him wrinkles or something), and throws his Xbox remote onto the sofa cushion. It’s not helping, nothing’s working. All his mind can focus on are those damn mesmerizing eyes, with that disarming smile, adorable laugh, and – fuck – that ass.

God damn you Park Jimin

A (second) frantic knock on his door startles him even more than the first, and Jungkook can’t believe his luck.

“I don’t have any more food to give!” he yells sulkily, pouting at his TV screen.

“What about some food to share? I come bearing ice cream too!” a voice he only familiarized himself with this evening comes through the door, and Jungkook nearly trips over his feet in a hurry to wrench the offending thing open.

“What happened to your date?” he asks breathlessly, taking in the sheer beauty that is Park Jimin. The elder shrugs, brushing slightly past Jungkook and setting the food on the table, putting the ice cream into the fridge before he settles into the chair.

“Rebound. I sent him off with wise words and a warning to reconcile with his boyfriend,” Jimin grins shyly. “Besides, I couldn’t focus on the date at all,” he admits quietly, pink tinging his cheeks.

Jungkook gulps, almost gingerly seating himself at the table. “A-and why not?” he asks, looking at the man in front of him, the man who’s refused to leave his mind the entire night. He can feel the air between them, charged and sizzling with tension, but he doesn’t mind; in fact, he welcomes it.

Jimin leans forward, till they’re barely inches away. His cheeks are still flushed slightly, but for a whole other reason now. “Because,” he breathes, and Jungkook can almost taste the plumpness of Jimin’s lips under his own. “I could only think about how much I wanted to spend the time with you instead.”

Jungkook blinks at him almost owlishly, then leans forward, closing the gap and kissing Jimin sweetly. It’s every bit as perfect as he imagines it to be, plush and sweet, moving eagerly against his own, but he pulls away before they can go further, much to Jimin’s unwillingness.

“Let’s finish dinner first, then we’ll talk about dessert,” Jungkook smirks at Jimin, deliberately letting his eyes rove over Jimin’s body, and he blushes, nodding as he cuts out a piece of chicken for himself. Jimin giggles nervously, heat pooling low when he sees Jungkook’s eyes, dark and filled with lust, and can only thank heavens that he can’t for cook for shit.

Doesn’t mean I won’t be eating good though