Chapter Text
It was the Wednesday morning sun, just pulling itself over the horizon, that made Jimin scowl and glance down at the watch on his wrist. The mid-September Busan air was humid and chilled, causing his cheeks to pink up just slightly against the wind. His fingers were all pin prick and needles as they fumbled with the keys to the cafe, complete with the bullseye logo that made Jimin roll his eyes fondly as he pushed open the door, listening to the bells jingle in the otherwise quiet morning.
His fingers shot over the keypad, the familiar buttons depressing as quickly as he could muster to keep the damn alarm from going off. Jimin was not, and had never been a morning person, and suffering through the shrieking alarm because he fumbled the code was the last thing he needed today. What he needed was coffee and for Jungkook to show up on time for once.
Technically, Jeon Jungkook was never late. He just wasn’t at One Shot Coffee when Jimin opened the door, so the omega had to step back onto the sidewalk and wait. He never had to wait long, and it was at least a pretty morning, though Jimin hugged his black sweater closed over his crisp white shirt and tasteful, professional black slacks when the wind swept through, carrying with it the familiar smell of the bay. It finally felt like fall, and it didn’t matter that fall next to the beach was warm compared to fall anywhere else. He was still cold.
Finally Jungkook rounded the corner on his little motorcycle, the careful stack of pastry boxes looming behind him, and Jimin sighed. “Jeon Jungkook! Could you learn to be on time for once?” As the alpha carefully puttered to a stop, bruised knees sticking out of his cargo shorts and liberally anointed in flour and who knew what else, Jimin sniffed the air, waited for him to park, and then grabbed the top two boxes from the stack. Sure, he wasn't in performance fit now, but he could still lift plenty. He could definitely lift a few pastry boxes. The top box managed to dust his shiny raven-black hair with a bit of sugar and he grumbled audibly as he planted his back against the door and began to push it open. “Get in here so I can lock the door.”
Once the kickstand was in place and Jungkook was sure of the bike's balance (he'd only ever lost one delivery to the uneven Busan streets, but he had a burning desire to never do it again) he hopped off and swept the rest of the stack into his arms, following Jimin carefully into the coffee shop with a funny little wrinkle-nosed grin. "You make it sound like it's 5am, Jimin-ssi. You're one of my last deliveries of the morning. It's almost nine."
Jimin sucked a 'tsk' sound past the crooked line of his front teeth, pushing his way back into the shop and holding the door with the toe of his immaculately kept boots. They had been expensive — months worth of savings expensive — and he kept them in good shape. "You're right, it is almost nine. I open at nine, and you know I don't finish getting ready until you get here."
Jimin dropped the boxes on the counter and then ducked behind the hinged segment so that he could flip on the espresso machine. The owner had tried to give him an automatic, but Jimin had threatened to take a wrench to it and waste his money. He still desperately needed coffee, so as soon as it reached temperature, the soothing sounds of entire hand-pulled espresso process filled the space as Jimin watched Jungkook carefully fill the pastry case. "What kind of coffee do you want today, Jungkook?"
Jungkook stopped, his plastic-gloved hand hovering in space with an impressively accurate baseball decorated jelly donut carefully balanced on his fingers, to blink at Jimin like he was the one who'd just gotten up. Or gotten hit in the back of the head with a board. Six of one. "Uh."
For all that he was solidly a twentysomething, when Jungkook licked his lips nervously and cleared his throat softly, still frozen in the same position he'd been in when Jimin had asked, he looked incredibly young. Finally he carefully sat the donut next to the basketball and football on the tray and stood, shifting a little from foot to foot in his loosely tied honey-beige Timberlands before he said, his voice the slightest bit scratchy and markedly higher than most alphas, "Wh- What're you feelin' like makin' t'day, Jimin-ssi?"
"You know, half the time I'm like one day this damn alpha will order his coffee like a normal person. Then I realize you're just smarter than most alphas. Always listen to the barista." Jimin waved a hand at the end of his statement, a wry smile touching the corners of his lips and the soft, slightly spicy smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafting through the air with the exaggerated gesture. Then he started making the drink.
Jimin had realized within the first month that Jungkook drank the coffee he made faster if it was on the sweeter side. So today he dropped white chocolate, cinnamon syrup, and a few dashes of sweetened cocoa powder into the cup before he added all four of the shots of espresso, using their heat to get the slightly gloopy white chocolate syrup to dissolve. Then he poured in a generous amount of milk before topping the big plastic cup off with ice. When it was done he sprinkled a little cinnamon across the top and popped on a dome lid, then presented the cup of lightly brown, suspiciously Jimin-scented — though that had been an entirely subconscious decision on Jimin's part — coffee to the baker with a flourish.
Jungkook was still finishing stocking the case, the everything bagels that were incredibly popular but also shed toppings everywhere tucked into a bottom corner where they couldn't contaminate anything else, but he finished quickly when he realized that Jimin was waiting for him, his cheeks and the tips of his beringed ears going red as he ducked his head and hid behind his long bangs. Then, once he was finished, he carefully removed his poppy and sesame seed speckled gloves, turning them inside out so that they wouldn't get the floor dirty on the way to the trash.
Then, once he'd safely disposed of his gloves, Jungkook carefully accepted the drink with two hands, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth before his face went all serious as he took a sip of the drink. "Mmm. Thank you, Jimin-ssi."
The oddly solemn look held for another moment before he smiled, huge and gaping and slightly smug, and said with a slightly conspiratorial tone, "If you check the bottom box of refills, there might be a bag of trimmings from that cinnamon crumble coffee cake you like so much. It was extra crumbly today."
The happy, quiet sound of Jimin's humming cut off abruptly, his thighs instinctively pressing together at the mention of the crumbling bits of coffee cake topping. The way Jungkook smiled with all his teeth out and offered up his favorite treat like it was a special present just for him made Jimin feel the slightest bit weak. "Ah, Jungkookie. That's very kind of you. You know you-" Jimin had to pause and swallow around the uncomfortable squeak of his voice. It made his cheeks flush and his eyes scrunch at the outer corners with embarrassment.
"Thank you. I'll have to take it home. Last time you brought me some, the bloodhounds found it while I was working and I hardly got any." Jimin whined quietly, shifting his weight in a slightly childish wiggle as he stared longingly at the remaining stack of boxes. He wanted the delicious mix now, but there was still a decent amount of work to do before the store could open.
"You're so good to me." Jimin's gaze lifted from the stack of white boxes to study Jungkook's face, his lashes fluttering in an unintentional but thoroughly appealing manner. "Could you fish it out so I can hide it before the heathens descend and steal it from me?" Jimin's soft mouth was tucked into a tiny pout as he stared pleadingly up at the taller alpha, his eyes looking unnaturally wide as he tipped his chin the slightest bit to the side, angling his neck the slightest bit towards Jungkook. Jungkook was a sweet boy, and Jimin knew how to use his wiles to devastating effect on sweet boys.
"Okay," Jungkook said, his own voice oddly tight-sounding as he carefully sat the barely-touched coffee down on the counter so that he could wipe his hand dry on his black cargo shorts before carefully easing the other boxes off the one he was after, his hands utterly confident as he flipped the lid open and fished out what looked suspiciously like the interior trimmings of an entire half-sheet pan of cinnamon crumble coffee cake, all soft moist yellow sour cream vanilla sponge and dusty brown crumble, with wavering white lines of powdered sugar winding through it, completely bereft of unpleasantly crunchy edges.
There was enough to make the carefully knotted plastic baggie swing and crinkle as Jungkook lifted it out, closing the lid on the much more conventionally cling-wrapped squares of coffee cake. He curled his free hand beneath the slightly loose ball and offered it to Jimin with what was unmistakably a tiny, almost shy smile. "I just know y'really like the soft bits, from when we did that ice cream thing this summer. So I figured y'might like it, 's all."
Jimin had busied himself while Jungkook was pulling the bag out, starting up a vacuum pot of hot coffee, setting the iced coffee to brew, and checking the containers of loose leaf tea to see if any of them needed topping up. It kept him distracted, his eyes nowhere near the broad muscular shape of Jungkook's back, clearly visible through his white t-shirt, long enough that when he turned around, it was only because the crinkle of plastic caught his attention.
Jimin's eyes went wide, focusing and then unforgivingly blurring. His head spun, making everything feel too bright. He hadn't had enough coffee for this. Jimin felt very aware of the relatively small difference in their heights as he stepped forward to take the bag with both hands and a deliberate bend at the hip. "Jungkookie, this is even heavier than last time!" Jimin's skilled fingers slipped the knot open easily, the cinnamon sugar smell between them redoubling as Jimin dove a hand in, pulling out a chunk of slightly compressed, incredibly moist cake. He held out the first bit, roughly at the level of Jungkook's mouth. "Do you want some?" Jimin was going to have a bite, the cafe could wait a minute.
Jungkook almost ducked his head fast enough to hide how wide his eyes went at the expression on Jimin's face. But instead of taking the bite of cake, he laughed awkwardly and turned to grab his coffee in his free hand, holding the bag so steady as he twisted that it didn't even move. "Jimin-ssi, it's your cake. I don't want to take any of your private reserve. I only kept the inside trimmings, since you complained about that edge bit scratching your mouth last time."
Jimin was unsure if it was the way that Jungkook moved or the first burst of cinnamon pastry hitting his tongue, but his knees trembled a little as he groaned softly. He pressed the soft crumb against the roof of his mouth with his tongue, smacking his lips as he chewed for a moment, hoping to avoid having to explain why it suddenly smelled like a sea breeze had blown through the shop. In the summer it wouldn't have required explanation at all, but the windows were very definitely shut.
Finally, once he'd recovered a little, Jimin carefully took the bag from Jungkook's hold and re-tied the knot, chewing on his lower lip gently as he thought about what he wanted to say. "B- But Jungkookie, what can I do for you? To repay you? This is such a sweet gift." Jimin's pout made a reappearance, the gentle downturn of the corners of his mouth exaggerating the almost hyperbolic fullness of his lower lip, still gleaming with butter from the coffee cake.
Jungkook flapped his now empty hand a little as he brought the iced coffee to his mouth on something that looked suspiciously like autopilot, took a small sip, blinked sharply, and then said in his funny, strangled little voice, "It's no bother, Jimin-ssi. You give me coffee and I give you cake, right? It's a mutually beneficial relationship."
It looked suspiciously as if Jungkook almost said something else, his lips parting on the beginning of a sound that never quite made it out of his mouth, as his phone beeped. He hauled it out of his pocket with a tiny frown, then blinked again and hissed out a soft curse. "Aish- I've gotta get going, Jimin-ssi. Wedding reception later today. We- I. I'll see you tomorrow?"
Jimin held up a finger and shook his head, distracted by the way the rough plastic felt pulling against his skin as the bag swung gently. When he could think clearly he said, "Actually, Wooji will be here tomorrow morning. He needed me to cover the afternoon, his mate has a doctor's appointment that he would like to be at. Just tell him that I said you can have your morning coffee and it'll be fine. I'm excited about a sunrise run on the beach without a thousand people pretending they're hurdles."
Jimin huffed softly, looking out at slightly overcast autumnal Busan morning. "Unless it's too cold. If it's too cold, I'm going to the fucking gym. Anyway, unless I find myself craving more cake, I'll see you… Saturday?" There was a strange pang in Jimin's chest and his throat tightened inexplicably. That was a few days. Jimin didn't like the sound of that at all, but he took those feelings and shoved them away. He didn't need to examine why he didn't like the sound of not seeing Jungkook for a few days. Not one bit. Nope.
Jungkook's thoughtful frown was only interrupted by his tiny squint as he took another sip of his drink. Then his attempt at saying 'I'll see you then' was interrupted by yet another message notification and he sighed somewhat dramatically as he shoved his phone back into his pocket and started heading crabwise towards the door so he could smile apologetically at Jimin as he said, "All those stupid cupcakes aren't going to ice themselves, h- Jimin-ssi. Sorry. I'll see you on Saturday!"
Thursday morning was fairly uneventful, save for a series of acidly witty Kakaotalk messages from Wooji about the 'mute alpha who looks like a beta, smells like an omega, and likes drinks that a five year old would drink if they were also a bodybuilder', complete with a picture of the marked up sleeve of Jungkook's whole milk strawberry banana smoothie with chia seeds and two servings of vanilla protein powder, topped with whipped cream and a LOL sticker.
But come Saturday morning, Jungkook didn't have anything to say about his encounter with the almost shockingly tiny alpha who held down the afternoon shift so that he could spend his evenings DJing and producing songs. Instead he was all smiles as he putted up to the curb in front of One Shot Coffee. "Good morning, Jimin-ssi! We've got something new that I think you'll like!"
Park Jimin didn't like feeling blindsided, so when he figured out who Wooji was talking about he felt something akin to betrayal. Jimin had made it to the shop a whole ten minutes early, fueled by rage or hormones or some shit. His arms were crossed over the old olive drab Pusan National University Dance Department hoodie that made him look so small. He had been called out before for wearing it on the days that he felt self conscious.
"Jeon Jungkook, you're a damn liar." Jimin's voice cut through the otherwise gentle morning like a well aimed dagger. The omega took a few steps forward with quick, precise strides so he could reach out and prod Jungkook sharply in the shoulder with a scowl. "One day and I find out you don't actually like coffee? Why the fuck do I make it for you every morning, then? Why didn't you say something?" Jimin's voice was the next betrayal. Tight and hurt despite his best efforts to hide his emotions.
As soon as Jimin had spoken, Jungkook froze, one hand on the elasticized rope netting that held the pastry boxes in place and his mouth falling open as he simply boggled. Jungkook made no effort to defend himself as Jimin pushed at him, the explicit attack on his dominance making his nostrils flare and his fist clench at his side but otherwise eliciting no reaction. Once Jimin had run out of words and he could finally take a breath and try to explain, still wide-eyed in a way that made him look devastatingly young. "I- J- Hy- Ugh. Jimin-ssi, I wasn't lying, you just- You asked if I wanted a coffee, not a drink, and I didn't- I didn't want to be rude. I- You. Y'seem t'like makin'em so much."
Jimin started at least three sentences, each sounded angrier than the one before it. Finally, and only after a few unconscious open mouthed breaths, he settled enough to string a thought together. "I couldn't give one single fuck that you don't like coffee. I like making it because I thought you liked what I made you, not because I like making coffee drinks. If I knew you wanted to drink your dessert first thing in the morning I would have made it, to see you smile, Jungkook. You're an idiot. Get the boxes inside."
Jimin didn't help that morning, though he still held the door open. Why had it made him so angry? Feelings were stupid.
Jungkook's face settled into as close to blankness as he could manage as he carefully balanced the lowest bakery box against his hips and tucked his chin against the top one to hold it steady so he could carry them in all in one go. It wasn't that they were heavy, not to his wiry but finely honed musculature, but rather that they were unwieldy and he was more than a little worried that if he made a mistake Jimin would yell at him again.
Jungkook's blank face wasn't as good as he thought it was, and as he started to pop open the first few boxes to stock the spotless, empty case he looked a bit like he might cry. When he finally spoke, avoiding Jimin's icy silence by staring at the cinnamon apple walnut tartlets that he'd been so excited to show Jimin what now seemed like a million years ago, his voice was soft and scratchy and subdued as he said, "I liked 'em 'cause you made 'em for me, Jimin-ssi. I- I thought that made 'em special."
The face that Jimin had been making as he stared intently at his phone was only marginally cleared by the break in silence. He looked like he was trying to do his best impression of a storm cloud. Jungkook's voice, soft and a little wounded, did a good job to dissolve the rest of his frustration off Jimin's defined features. "Jungkookie…" Jimin had to stop almost immediately and swallow around the persistent lump in his throat — he felt like he might as well name it Jungkook at this point — before he could continue. "I want to make you special things that you enjoy drinking. I don't want you to only think they're special because I made them. I want you to think they're special because I made them for you and they taste good. I just wish you would have told me. I feel like an idiot."
Jimin lifted his phone back up, angling it away from where Jungkook would be able to see that he had been staring at the picture Wooji had sent of Jungkook's monster drink. Jimin thought he could do it better. Wooji's ratios for sweet drinks were always hastily managed and never good enough. Jimin took his time gathering his ingredients, getting the banana chopped and added, then the frozen strawberries so they would blend easier. Then he added the vanilla protein powder, chia seeds, an extra dash of unflavored protein and an unflavored energy packet before carefully pouring the milk in and getting it on the blender. While it was whirring loudly he took the time to roughly chop a few of the frozen strawberries so that he could drop the pieces into the bottom of the big plastic cup.
Normally they only made smoothies in the little cups, but Jimin was making an apology smoothie, so it had to be perfect. Once he'd gotten it into the cup and the dome lid was safely protecting the thick, vanilla-heavy whipped cream on top, he took one of the extra wide straws that they stole from the boba shop down the block for special drinks like this one and dropped it in so the straw wouldn’t clog on the strawberries at the bottom.
He was nervous. It was probably good? But he had yelled and then Jungkook had seemed sad, and Jimin was nervous. This whole thing sucked. Jimin ducked from behind the hinged counter and stepped in front of the alpha, who looked plenty alpha to him, no matter what shitty beta comments might have been lodged in his head thanks to Busan's surliest pint-sized alpha.
Jungkook stopped reaching for another donut, his plastic gloves crinkling as he tried to drop his hands to his sides. He didn't want Jimin to think he was angry with him. He wasn't. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd done to merit being yelled at, but he knew that Jimin was mad, and he hoped that if he stayed relaxed, if he didn't tense up and get defensive, that the tall omega would have an easier time calming down.
It was work, because Jungkook's jaw was tense and the hunch of his shoulders couldn't quite conceal how his posture had started to draw up, his instinctive desire to assert his dominance obviously at odds with his need to placate Jimin, when he didn't really think he'd done anything wrong. He blinked, big eyes worried and expression solemn, and licked his lips before saying, his voice quiet enough to sound soft, "Uh, J- Jimin-ssi, I've got gloves on…"
The sigh that pressed past Jimin's lips, accompanied by an exaggerated eye roll, was impressive. Even by Jimin's standards. "Jungkookie, you might as well just call me hyung, you've almost done it more times than I can count and it'll obviously be more comfortable for you."
Jimin bent at the knees, dropping the top of his head below Jungkook's eye line to help ease the tension in the alpha's shoulders. Then, once Jungkook had relaxed a little, he held the drink up much like he had with the coffee cake. One hand supported the bottom of the cup and the other wrapped around the cardboard sleeve as he spoke, trying not to wheedle. "You don't have to take off your gloves, just try it… Please, Jungkookie?" Jimin chewed on the edge of his lower lip, his head tilted to the side in a way that made the fall of his black hair frame half his face, accenting the light pink tint to his cheeks.
Jungkook leaned forward slightly, looking vaguely apologetic, and took a careful slurp from the wide straw. After the first tiny bit hit his tongue his eyebrows rose dramatically and he hummed a soft, pleased little hum as he wrapped his lips more fully around the straw and took a much longer pull. When he rocked back onto his heels he was smiling again, and this time it was broad and brilliant, beaming down at Jimin as if the incredible awkwardness when he'd arrived had never happened. "That's good, hy- I. Are you sure it's alright for me to call you hyung, Jimin-ssi? We don't- It's not like we're friends, is it? I've been doing deliveries here for months and I don't know anything about you, except that you work here and you don't like mornings."
Jimin laughed hard enough that he rocked back onto his heels, bounced off the edge of the open pastry case, and landed flat on his ass. It dissolved him into a fit of giggles that forced him to hold his hand up to keep from spilling the smoothie. Between the disarming way Jungkook smiled and broke through the awkwardness, to the sweet way he tried to hide his desire to call Jimin hyung, it was just too much for the omega to handle this early in the day. Jungkook was adorable. "J- Jungkookie, how are you the sweetest thing in this shop?"
Once the rolling, happy sound of Jimin's laughter died down he eyed Jungkook through eyes that were still compressed at the edges by his bright, crooked smile. "Ah, you also know I can make this drink better than Wooji can. All friendships start somewhere, Gukkie."
Jungkook only hesitated for a moment before he carefully tugged the plastic glove from his right hand so that he could offer it to Jimin with a shy little smile. "And I know that you sometimes laugh so hard that you fall down. I'd never seen that happen in real life before. Only in anime. Are you okay, hyung?"
Jimin's hand slipped into Jungkook's without thinking about any of the possible implications. He could feel the muscle and tendons move beneath Jungkook's dry, ever so slightly rough skin as his own squarish, strong fingers slid against it. Jimin's breath caught and after he'd recovered he replied, with a more subdued smile, "Yeah, I'm fine. Usually when I laugh that hard I'm on a couch so it's softer, but I've got a pretty big butt. It's like having a portable cushion." He used his hold on Jungkook's hand to pull himself upright again, first getting his feet beneath himself and then standing carefully. "If you have one of these in the morning, you won't need breakfast, you know. There's enough protein in it to match eggs and bacon. I added some extra unflavored protein and an energy shot… Since- Since, you know… You don't like coffee, but your body is probably used to having the caffeine now."
"I usually just drink Hot6 if I can't wake up… Three thirty comes pretty early, y'know?" Once Jungkook was certain Jimin had his feet safely under him, he dropped the omega's hand and got his glove back on. His ears looked suspiciously pink where they poked out of his hair as he started to stock the case again. Once he'd finished with the donuts and was starting on the big, flaky croissants he asked, his voice only a little muted for not looking directly at the omega as he puttered about doing pre-open tasks, "I- Uh. May- Maybe if we spend time together outside of work, we'll get to know each other better? I don't. I'm not that good at having friends. It's not like I'm horrible, or anything, but I'm kind of boring. Most of my friends from college have, you know. Mates and kids, and stuff. But I'm a pretty good cook…?"
Jimin looked like he should have had a buffering wheel suspended over his head. His arm stalled halfway through putting some fair trade coffee on the shelf, frozen like a statue. Had Jungkook just offered to cook for him? Jimin had heard of that happening, but only with mated couples. Most of the time omegas offered the first meal. Or so he had been told. He'd never had a relationship last that long. Alphas usually found him intimidating. He flushed bright red to his collar bones, just barely visible at the top of the white shirt and olive hoodie.
Everything seemed slow for a moment. Dear god, was he going to have to ask Wooji for guidance? Or fashion advice? He knew this day might come. The bag lowered and he kept his eyes off the alpha, feeling suddenly small. "Uh- Um. Yeah? Sure. Yes? We can have a meal together. When. What? When?"
"Friday and Tuesday are my days off. I figured since you know the owner here and all, you can probably change your schedule easier. I figured we could go take pictures at the old shipyard? I can bring my airsoft, if you like that kind of thing, and then we can walk back to my place and have dinner? Or, uh. If you don't wanna eat with my parents we could have lunch first, but it wouldn't be as fancy. I was, uh. Gonna make seafood and dumpling soup? It's one of my favorites." Jungkook puttered to a stop with a surprised face, literally looking behind himself before saying sheepishly, "I, uh. I kind of ramble when I'm excited, hyung. Sorry. But you can say it's a dumb idea, I'm not gonna be offended. It's been a long time since I had friends to hang out with that I haven't known since I was, like. An infant."
Jimin stalled, again. Later he might scold himself for his lack of grace in the face of… Whatever this was, but that was for later. "No… No. Jungkookie, it's fi- It's. I- Yes. I love seafood and dumpling soup." Jimin was usually so calm and collected when being asked out on a date, but this was Jungkook. This was different. Weird. Jungkook was kind and not at all pushy and when the air was warm he smelled like ripe grain. But Jungkook kept saying friend. And parents, and other scary words.
Jungkook beamed at Jimin, his enormous eyes disappearing into pleasant crescents above the deceptive roundness of his cheeks. Then he nodded, as if that settled something, and then turned back to the pastry case, muttering something quietly about it being just a minute.
It wasn't that long until he was carefully turning his gloves inside out to catch the seeds and assorted fall-out from the bagels, his worried face seeking Jimin's out as he carefully lowered the big plexiglass lid of the pastry case. "So, uh. Is- Is Tuesday or Friday better for you, hyung? If we wait 'til Friday we can play with some of my friends from the neighborhood, it's a lot more fun with more people. If you've got good aim, you can shoot people in the ear and they curse so much."
This time Jimin did drop what he was holding, the shiny milk pitcher clattering on the counter top. Jimin winced and swore. Parents and friends in one day? Was this a date or a mating proposal? Was this even still considered a date? Jimin felt like he might be sick. Wooji was going to make so much fun of him. "Friday is fine, Jungkookie. Just tell me when. I can- I'll bring dessert for us and your parents? Oh! Give me your phone. I'm an idiot, it'll be easier to give you my phone number in case something changes."
From the quizzical expression on Jungkook's face, he seriously doubted the logic of Jimin's offer. "Mmm. Maybe for Eomma? But Appa and I don't really eat that many sweets. Maybe, like. Some coffee, or a bottle of wine? They really like that stuff, but it's so bitter."
The fussy expression Jungkook pulled wasn't terribly flattering, but it was quite endearing, his overbite more obvious and the small collection of scratchy proto-goatee hairs under his chin adorably sparse as he shook his hair back off his forehead and offered Jimin a crooked smile. "Or your favorite banchan. We live right up next to the big fish market, so seafood is a breeze, but there's not as many good places to get banchan."
Jimin nodded. He could do that, banchan and wine and dessert for Eomma. Thank fuck Jungkook's parents drank, because Jimin could use the wine to take the edge off. "Okay, Gukkie. That sounds good. Do you just want to pick me up here, when my shift is up on Friday?" Jimin twisted his fingers nervously into the apron that had appeared around his waist at some point, stepping from behind the counter where he had been pulling things out to escort Jungkook out and to his bike. For the first time ever.
Jungkook's cheeks were pink again as he took another drag of his smoothie, over halfway gone already. He was clearly much more enthusiastic about it than he'd ever been about the coffee drinks. But that wasn't what had him clearing his throat awkwardly and squinting helplessly at the bright, clear blue sky. "I, uh. I can do that, hyung. Only- Only the bike belongs to the bakery? It isn't, um. Mine. So we've gotta take the subway? Or a taxi, I guess, but-"
Jimin was too busy staring a hole into the ground to notice the nervousness in Jungkook's posture. He was trying to think of the proper omega thing to do here. His friends probably all would have flirted through their teeth. Jimin, on the other hand, had been able to articulate about as well as you would expect and pile of sentient oatmeal. "We can take the subway, Gukkie. I'll just have to bring some clothes. Unless you want your parents meeting me in my slacks and white shirt…?"
Jungkook's shocked gasp didn't require vision to perfectly imagine the look of wide-eyed consternation and horror on his face as he finished slipping the pitiful remains of his smoothie into his cupholder and stood up again. "You have to bring different clothes! You can't play airsoft in slacks! You'll ruin your pants!"
Then, after a brief but marked moment, he added, sounding considerably more concerned and less horrified, "You should probably bring different shoes, too. Those fancy black ones don't seem like they have very good traction."
Jimin’s toe tapped rhythmically for a moment, obviously taking an inventory of what clothes he had down in his head. When he’d figured it out he snapped his fingers just in time to hear the door bells chime behind him. Customers. “Oh! Fuck, I’m late now. Alright, off with you, Gukkie, get to work. I’ll see you Friday, at… Three? It’s a date!” Jimin darted into the shop, his nervous tension disappearing as a large alpha grumbled something about a caramel latte with an extra shot and extra caramel. Which wasn’t exactly true. This was one of Jimin’s regulars and he liked it the normal amount of sweet, they had just taken a while to figure out where he wanted his drink to sit on the tolerably bitter scale.
The rest of the morning Jimin was going to be a wreck while he waited for Wooji to come in so he could lose his fucking mind. The alpha wasn’t always the best at… Being a friend. But he was ernest enough that Jimin felt comfortable losing his shit and asking for help. Well, mostly comfortable enough. He was going to catch a lot of shit from Wooji over the alpha who looked like a beta and drank milk shakes for breakfast.
Wooji came sailing through the front door eight minutes before one in the afternoon, his slightly thick-soled non-skid black creepers squeaking on the tiles as he moved through the store. Save for a college student with headphones in the corner it was silent, and he pushed his carefully bleached bangs out of his eyes as he grinned, all catlike and sharp, at his boss. "You didn't propose to him with a coffee drink, did you, boss? And have you had one of the apple walnut tarts yet? He was really excited to show them to you on Thursday. By which I mean he actually said words with his mouth parts about it. I know Americans make jokes about the Strong Silent type, but isn't it kind of… Excessive? Unless you're holding out on me and you're actually psychic. That would explain a lot."
“I’m just not a miserable asshole, Wooji-ya. He talks to me the whole time he’s here. You, though, you’re an idiot. I made what you made him, I just made it better. And no… He didn’t say anything about the tart. I… Was angrier than I thought I was that I had been wasting my talent making him shit he didn’t like… So I yelled and maybe I poked him in the shoulder a little too hard. I- It wasn’t my best moment, alright?” Jimin began on the arduous task of making the godawful half and half iced coffee Americano bitter, foul-smelling abomination coffee thing that Wooji drank, his eyes far away as he did.
Then, as he was waiting for all four shots to pull, he said, “I think he asked me on a date? I’m. Does airsoft with his meathead friends and dinner with his parents- Dinner he is cooking, mind- Does that count? Wooji?” Jimin’s eyes were uncharacteristically big when he turned to look at the small alpha, his lower lip caught between his teeth and obvious worry etched into his features. His brow knit together as he handed over the cup of distressingly dark brown liquid, what little ice was in it rapidly melting. Then Jimin wrapped an arm around his middle, the other hanging at his side, his posture hunched and almost defensive. Wooji had been working with him long enough that he knew of Jimin’s Tragic Disorder (as Wooji insisted on calling it, complete with melodramatic wrist to forehead action) and the effect it had on his dating life, which was practically non-existent for someone who was such a catch on paper.
Wooji liked to give Jimin a hard time about how he was eventually going to die alone and be eaten by his cats, just as much as Jimin liked to give Wooji a hard time about the fact that he couldn't reach the top shelf in the storage room without help, because they were both jerks from Busan. But Wooji had also known his mate since kindergarten, and was painfully aware of the fact that if things had gone differently in his life he would have been just as screwed as Jimin regularly wasn't. So his expression was uncommonly serious as he thought about Jimin's question, taking a long drink of his coffee before he said, obviously trying to keep his low voice neutral, "Did he sound like it was a date, bossman? Or did he sound like a kid trying to get his new best friend to come over and play? Because I'm not gonna lie, if I didn't know that he was only a year younger than me, I'd swear that he was, like. Nineteen. And not an old nineteen, either. You're a psychic cougar, boss. Corrupting the innocent."
Jimin was noticeably more and more uncomfortable, his feet shuffling and his head bowed a little. It was not at all his normal against-all-odds defiant posture. He was absolutely terrified that he was reading too much into what Jungkook had offered him. That it was too good to be true, having an alpha actually interested. Betas, they had the life, never having to worry about this shit. “I- Well. He- He calls me hyung? He’s coming to pick me up after work — which, by the way. I’m leaving early on Friday — and making seafood and dumpling soup for me and his parents. He- I. I really want him to like me… Wooji-ya. I have to wear clothes that can get messy, but. But I want to look nice. I want him to y'know. I want him t’want me. He doesn’t know-” Jimin paused and found a corner to stare into. The way the sun filtered through the glass in the afternoon made his features more obviously striking. “About my… Bullshit.”
Jimin huffed rather abruptly and pushed his hand through his hair, mumbling something about the whole thing being a stupid pipe dream. “Go ahead and make fun of me, Wooji. I know it’s coming.” The omega, half a head taller than Wooji, reached over him and grabbed something from behind a canister of tea on the shelf. Jimin had never had to be careful about his body placement like other omegas, so he seldom thought about how it might look to be so close. But he also didn’t care. Being busy meant he didn’t have to think about another failed almost-partnership that turned out to be an alpha not wanting to look like he was involved with a beta.
Instead of wasting time getting all needlessly huffy, Wooji just grabbed Jimin by the hips and moved him to the side so that the little alpha could get to the cash register to greet a gaggle of betas who were very clearly here on holiday. Wooji responded by increasing his accent to almost indecipherable levels and playing the rough around the edges Busan Alpha to the hilt. It seemed to please them all well enough, so as he started to make their drinks it was a little surprising that his voice was soft and almost apologetic, for all that he didn't look at where Jimin was all hunched and pathetic and radiating misery. "I- Hey, boss. I didn't say he isn't into you. I just said that maybe he doesn't see this as a date. He's clearly got something weird going on with his scent, too, or he wouldn't smell so much like you're supposed to, all the time. I'm sure he's gonna be understanding. I just- Are y'sure he's not… Y'know? He works at a bakery, for fuck's sake. Although even if he is just some kind of… Asexual Alpha freak parade, like. Would that be the worst thing ever? Having a friend who liked you that much just 'cause a who you are?"
Everything went still for Jimin, in that eerie way that things went still before a storm crashed into the bay. He set down the mug he had been holding to flex his fingers, trying to focus on the motion instead of the sudden drop of stress in his chest. He had suddenly had such hope for something. Jungkook was attractive and kind. He was all of the things that most alphas weren’t and it was one of the reasons Jimin felt so comfortable talking to him. It had taken Jimin months to warm up to Wooji, and they’d seen each other for hours every day when they worked together.
When Jimin spoke his voice was tight and high, lacking some of his natural rasp in a way that indicated he was fighting tears. “No, I suppose that’ll be just fine, Wooji. I guess I should just die with my cats, hm?” There was a bitter undercurrent to Jimin’s words. He had been reminded by his parents that he was getting old. That his friends were all having babies. That it didn’t matter if he liked the alpha, as long as he wasn’t a crazy spinster. They had talked him out of dance to get a job that would make him more desirable, out of the one thing that made him happy outside of family. Accounting was certainly not his passion.
Wooji's initial attempt at being comforting was stymied by the fact that even in his horrible, humiliating creepers, which he had to wear so that he could be seen easily over the counter and could effectively take and return change, he was still more than seven centimeters shorter than Jimin in his plant Cuban heeled dress shoes. Sometimes being short sucked. But he regrouped and tugged Jimin into a hug that did not invite disagreement, turning his own head away from the line of his boss's jaw and tugging Jimin's head down to put him face-first into the subtly leather and amber scented mess of Wooji's hair. "Sssh, boss. It's fine. You'll be okay. I'm sure that the great big pretty weirdo likes you as much as he's ever liked anybody. Just. Try to manage your expectations, yeah? And definitely wear the roughest clothes you've got, if it's the game I think it is, that he's taking you to. Pretty much everything is rougher, down that close to the docks and the shipyards. Did he say how he got in with such a rough crowd? It doesn't… Really match up with Mr. 'I don't like bitter things and I play with frosting all day'."
Jimin's immediate desire was to pull away from the hold, to avoid the comfort, but Wooji knew better and kept him there with unthinking strength. After a moment, as Jimin's nose found the comforting smell of the alpha, wound through with the spicy-sweet scent of his mate, and Jimin took a deep breath in. Everything settled fast enough then, his nerves, which had felt so sharp and pointy moments before, rounded out and settled. Once he no longer felt like he was going to cry, he replied. “He grew up down there. They’re, like. His school friends. I mean, he lives down by the market, Wooji-ya. Not that I care.”
Jimin snuffled quietly against Wooji’s ear and held himself there for a few moments longer, then it was time to get back to work. When he pulled away he pressed a hand into his face, forcing back the last of the lingering panic. “Fuck, your shoes are so ugly. We’ve got to find a better alternative, Wooji-ya.” Jimin chewed his lip, thinking about what to wear again as he got to work on the giggling betas’ drinks. They hadn’t minded the hug and Jimin heard someone giggle and say it was cute. He and Wooji had hung out several times outside of work, so the alpha knew that his collection of clothes was had range. “I’ve got those black cargo pants that I use when we’re doing work around the cafe? And some dock boots that I wear when hiking. I should probably wear a compression tank… Since I’m so chubby now.” Jimin rolled his eyes and fingered the soft curve of his tiny muffin top. “Um. Then a tee-shirt? Fuck that sounds cold. I’m wearing a hoodie. But… but I want to look attractive… This is stupid.”
Wooji pulled the iced coffee out of the fridge and started to work on the easy drinks, more than willing to let Jimin take over the sweet, complicated ones. That was decidedly his bailiwick, anyway. But once they were all finished and the betas had disappeared onto the patio he said, lifting his eyebrows, "Only you would complain about being chubby, when people can barely even tell you're an omega in pictures from the front. Sideways is no contest, not with that ass and hip position, but from other angles you can barely tell. Possessing body fat — which, I must remind you, every person does — does not make you fat. Wear one of those long sleeved compression shirts, the ones for surfing… Rash guards? Whatever. Wear one of those with a t-shirt over it, and bring a button up or something nice to wear for dinner. That'll keep you warm and cute. Just be prepared for some big dumb brute to get all up in your face, if it's gonna happen anywhere, it'll happen there, and you're not good at watching your body language."
While Jimin didn’t like the sound of having some alpha get up in his face, he didn’t know that he really cared. Wooji was right, he might have had some fat deposits, but compared to most omegas he was still considered trim. He was certainly considered muscular by omega standards, as anyone who had seen him in his work-out leggings could attest. “Alright, Wooji-ya. I’ll try and be careful. He said to bring wine and coffee. I guess I’m also going to make his Eomma some kind of dessert.” Jimin thought while he began wiping the bar down. “He was excited about the walnut, right? I wonder if his Eomma likes walnut cake…” Jimin looked thoughtful, recounting the conversation with Jungkook. “Whenever I seemed to ask about his parents, he deflected and talked about his friends. So he’s either more worried about me meeting them, or he thinks his parents will like me. Or more likely I’m just overthinking everything. Alphas are dumb, bodies are dumb. Fuck this whole thing, maybe I’ll stay home and drink.”
Wooji snorted and grabbed the cloth out of the sanitizer to wipe down the other countertop. "Or, if he lives down by the docks, his parents are hella blue collar and he's afraid that you're going to get all judge-y about them. Why not bring honey tteok? It's, like. The official omega comfort food, according to everyone in my family, at least. I say you go, you have a good time, and hopefully you get to know your weird, silent, skinny, pretty alpha better. You've got to get a picture of his parents, I'm very curious to know how someone ends up with a face like that. At least all of your siblings have the decency to look exactly like you."
Jimin’s characteristic eye roll was less exaggerated than normal, but he ended up smiling by the time his eyebrows returned to their relaxed position. “If I wasn’t afraid of them getting torn to shit I would just wear my black leggings. But-” Jimin sighed rather dramatically, voice dripping with sarcasm, “I probably shouldn't incite a riot my first time playing airsoft with his friends.” He giggled, curling in on himself as he did so. “Ugh, this means no sexy underpants though. I guess it’s for the best. His parents will be there, next time I’m cooking so I can bring him to my apartment. I’ll just tell my Appa to take Eomma out for the night. Suggest he takes him to the beach and a jjimjilbang after dinner. Knowing them, they’ll spring for one of the love motels with a view. And even if they did come home, they’d be thrilled to find someone there with me, with as often as Eomma reminds me that when he was my age he had two kids and another on the way.”
"It helps that you have your own bed and your own room, you know. If he lives down there, even as the baby of the family, Jungkook probably sleeps on the living room floor with everyone else." Wooji glanced over his shoulder at Jimin, his eyebrows lifted significantly. "Just make sure that in your need to impress everyone you don't hurt anybody's feelings, yeah? My parents didn't grow up down there, but my Eomma's parents did, and he's still a little prickly about it. Also if you wear leggings you're going to end up with brutal bruises. Airsoft rounds hurt, you know. Make sure to bring safety glasses just in case no one has extras."
Jimin blinked, his hands frozen in the air in that odd way that made it look like he was trying to load an intense video on low bandwidth. "But- But I don't want to hurt anyone, Wooji. What the fuck am I supposed t'do, then? I want t'prove I can cook, because Eomma says that's important when meeting a potential mate's parents. And… Well, what am I supposed to do? I need to bring something for his Appa, too."
Wooji looked at the ceiling tiles for a moment, clearly seeking patience. Then he scrubbed a little more at the counter before tossing the cloth back into the sanitizer and turning to lean on the edge of the counter so he could eye Jimin knowingly. "You bring Jeon Eomma a thoughtful, sweet, sticky treat that reassures him that despite your condition you still think like a regular omega, you bring a cheap but nice bottle of wine and some coffee for his Appa, and you make sure as politely as possible that they realize that you are an omega, at which point they'll probably be over the moon. Showing you know how to cook is probably less important when their alpha son makes baked goods for a living."
It was always so strange to Jimin, the way that Wooji’s voice rolled over his skin and calmed him down. Much more like an older brother than anything else. Jimin nodded, the advice was solid. Sometimes he didn’t know how much he could trust what Wooji told him, but moments like this the tiny alpha surprised him. Maybe Wooji just saw how important this was to Jimin, and didn’t want to be a royal asshole about it. “Okay, thanks, Wooji-ya. Compression shirts and button downs and wine and coffee and honey tteok.” The words passed his plush lips like a mantra, something he held in spiritual significance that he didn’t want to forget. Friday was so far away…