#i want so badly to watch tlou if u cant tell

[cinnaminyoons]

STAR THEORY !!

!!   jjk x m!reader

!!   wc | 6.8k

!!   tags | dilf!jk + dilf!reader (obv), non-idol au, lil age gap (jk’s 25, reader’s at least late 20s), reader lived in america for some time + reader is a chef (food comfort & domesticity i love u), reader’s children and dog are named, reader had a wife and also has a hip tattoo

[ event masterlist ]

dilf/dilf

pets are in love and so are they

“we are... incredibly close right now.”

the bedroom door bursts open.

"appa!"

it's too early for this.

"appa," she pants, little feet bouncing across the carpet until a weight begins to tug erratically at his blankets. "appa, get up, get up, there're new people!"

jungkook pulls a pillow over his head.

she puffs her cheeks out and launches herself onto his bed; she elbows him in the bony front of his leg. he groans in pain as she scrambles over his legs and grabs his pillow with both hands.

"get up, appa! i wanna go see!"

blearily, jungkook lifts his head, groping for the blinds past his bedside table. he leans uncomfortably far out into the cold of his room before he latches onto the chain and gives it a good pull.

the wooden blinds clatter up, dousing the room with pale morning light – the white bang that birthed the universe. she giggles and slides down from the bed, crawling up to the window and pressing her knuckles against the cold glass.

on the street below are a man and a little girl. another girl! she delights herself with fantasies of having a best friend – maybe they'd go play on the playground, and with their combined strength, they'll knock down the mean queen bee from the monkey bars.

they carry boxes into the neighbouring house, assisted by movers. a fridge, a mattress – they manoeuvre them through the gates leading around to the side of the house, entering through the glass sliding doors. she watches them, fascinated, as the visible kitchen begins to fill with cardboard boxes.

she cranes her neck, pressing her forehead against the glass until it stings her skin. nobody else comes through, and she knows who the hired help are because they wear bright orange shirts.

she squints at the man's left hand when he rests it against the column of the alfresco, speaking to the little girl. he's like her appa – he doesn't wear a marriage ring.

"what's so interesting?" he combs his fingers through his messy hair.

she glances over her shoulder with big brown eyes. "nobody's lived in that house for ages. d'you think they'll be nice?"

"i'm sure they are. c'mere, miri – you'll get a cold."

she skips over, lifting her arms dutifully. jungkook pulls a small pink jersey from his closet and tugs it over her head, helping her arms into the sleeves.

"where are your socks?" he asks with a groggy frown. he's always been slow to wake. "your toes will fall off."

"bam took them."

"he what?"

"bam took my socks," she says helpfully.

he sighs, rising to his feet. "okay. up we go, then."

he heaves her into his arms, settling her against his hip as he shuffles out of his bedroom and down the stairs. she's more than capable of walking on cold floors on her own – maybe it'd be a good lesson to teach about letting the dog take one's socks – but jungkook admits to himself that it's mostly for him. babies turn into children so quickly, and he finds he misses having her little warmth holding onto his shoulder.

bam meets them at the foot of the stairs, barking his good morning greeting. miri smiles and waves hello, and bam's tail wags faster as he follows them to the back door – he darts out with a bark, leaping into a run for freedom around the large yard. he shuts the door.

"right – here we are." he places her on the mat in the kitchen, in front of the sink. it protects her feet from the tiles. he feels somewhat more awake. "any requests for breakfast, miri? the fruits are still fresh – would you like some yoghurt and banana with your cereal?"

"with strawberries, too, please," she requests, watching him move towards the fruit bowl.

"how many strawberries?"

she opens her mouth. she frowns. carefully, she raises five fingers. "five."

"five? you must be hungry today," he comments, placing a banana on the chopping board next to the knife and leaning over to the fridge to fish out the tray of strawberries.  he bends over. "on three. one."

he scoops her up under his arm, holding her like rolled carpet. she hums as she chooses her strawberries, placing them on the blue chopping board. she shoves a sixth in her mouth and giggles as jungkook rolls his eyes at her with a fond smile, setting her down. "go grab your cereal, okay? i'll be done in a minute."

"okay!" her cheek leaves jungkook's palm as she whisks away to a lower cupboard, taking her pick of the different cereals in easy-pour containers.

he pushes the sleeves of his sweatshirt up to his elbows. he sets to work with the knife, chopping wedges out of the tops of the strawberries and slicing them in half. beside him, miri cautiously measures out her cereal on her own red child-sized table, tipping the container a few degrees at a time to control the flow.

a thump outside. he glances up. bam stops barking.

he sets down the knife and strides over to the door, dropping the wet handtowel on the edge of the bench. he leans out into the chilly air. "bam?"

no response. jungkook slips from his indoor slides to his outdoor ones and hurries outside, worry forming a knot in his stomach. "bam, come here!" he whistles, short and sharp.

he peeks behind the bushes, where a collection of toys have gathered as bam's treasure trove. no dog.

"shit," he mutters, eyes widening as he spots the open fence door by the side of the house. he hurries through it, grabbing the edge of the door. "bam!"

a bark by his feet. he startles ten feet into the air and a curse slips out of his mouth.

kneeling on the stone path and staring up at him is a little girl in a thick purple jacket. she looks about miri's age. bam had his head resting on her legs before they were so rudely interrupted.

he swallows another bad word and softens his voice. "hey. i don't think i've seen you around here before."

she stares up at him for a moment longer, rubbing bam's ears slowly. "me and papa came here today."

"oh! you must be our new neighbours." the moving truck is gone. he glances over the fence, before lowering himself to her level. "do you know where your papa is?"

"in there." she points at the house. she says nothing more, her eyes narrowed slightly mistrustfully.

"does he know you're here? i don't want him to be worried about you. come on – i'll bring you over."

she recoils from his offered hand, hugging bam's neck. the usually active pup seems unusually calm.

"i just want to walk you over, that's all. it's cold out here, and those pebbles can't be comfy."

she glances over him, then nods with as much dignity as she can muster and rises to her booted feet, brushing off her knees. bam stands as well, and jungkook gives him a pat.

he smiles at her, discreetly pulling his sleeves down over his sleeve tattoos. they might not make the best impression of his character. "so, you moved here today? what do you think of it?"

she shrugs, following him. "it's a lot colder. but papa says he got a good job here and can take care of me."

"really? do you know what his job is?"

"he's a chef! he makes really good food. do you like carrot cake? his carrot cake is the best. you should try some."

he smiles down at her as they approach the front door. "thank you for the offer. we'll see what happens."

he raps his knuckles against the front door firmly. he wonders if it sounds too aggressive, but there's nothing he can do about it, and there's an out-of-breath man standing in front of him. a very attractive out-of-breath man.

his eyes widen as he notices the girl beside him. "anya! what are you doing out there?"

she crosses her arms, defiant. "exploring."

"i – i told you to stay inside, didn't i? anya, neither of us knows our way around! you could've gotten lost if you hadn't—"

his eyes flicker up to jungkook's. he clears his throat and the girl shuffles over the threshold, grabbing onto his pant leg and burying her face in it. "hello. i am so sorry about my daughter – really, it feels like locks just fall apart around her. thank you so much for retrieving her. i left her in the hallway for two minutes to set up her bed, and then—"

"she escaped containment?"

the man cracks a frazzled smile. "yeah, suppose you could say that. ah—i'm ln yn. this is my daughter, anya. say hi, bub."

"hi."

"jeon jungkook," he introduces, feeling rather self-conscious about his pyjamas and socks-with-slides combination. he nods towards anya with a small smile. "how old is she?"

"five, this year." you smooth down her hair with a palm. she watches bam sniff around the perimeter of the fence. "she'll be starting school here soon and she's been really excited. she's a bit of an artist, you see, and the school's renowned for its arts program."

"oh! you mean—?" he gestures down the road. you nod. he brightens. "my kid goes there, too! she's the same age as yours, but she's more interested in trying every single extracurricular sport they offer than anything they're actually famous for. my genes at work, i guess."

you smile, leaning against the doorway. you nod at the dobermann by the succulents. "and that one's yours, too, i'm guessing?"

"oh – yeah! that's bam." he turns. "bam, come here!"

he perks up, trotting over.

"sit."

he sits.

"good boy." jungkook scratches behind his ears. "i'll keep him inside the yard, so you don't have to worry about holes in your garden or anything."

you chuckle. "thanks. so, what's to like around here? in particular, anything a five-year-old would enjoy?"

"the park's a two-minute walk that way." he points behind him. "it's not that big, but it has a swing and a slide and a rope cobweb thing. there's a fireman pole, too.” he smiles. “i know it's bad enough trying to move when you're alone, so having a kid with you must be pretty rough."

you share a laugh. the girl pouts into your leg.

he tucks his knuckles into his sleeves, trying not to show how fast his heart is beating. "i could watch her while you get settled today. i-if you want! i'd bring my daughter over and they could, uh, keep each other busy."

he knows you're wary. he can see it in your eyes and the way you pull her into your side.

good. he would be, too.

"that would be wonderful," you say eventually with a small smile. "but it's quite early – i'll be here when you're, well, ready."

he glances down at himself and bursts into embarrassed flames. "ah, r-right! yeah! sure, yeah, i'll be back in an hour. it was nice meeting you," he smiles down at her, "and you as well, anya."

"you, too," you reply, and your grin makes jungkook's heart race. he wills his blush down.

"goodbye," calls anya, watching him retreat from their door. "i like your puppy!"

bam trots at jungkook's side, tongue lolling out and collar clinking. jungkook lets him into the backyard again, this time through the side door, and latches the door shut firmly after himself. he's got no idea how it came loose the first time; it might've been the wind rattling the latch.

he shrugs to himself as he returns to his kitchen. if it happens again, he'll get a proper lock.

"appa!"

she crashes into his knees. he hums and smooths down her fringe. "hello. i'm sorry for disappearing on you like that – i got worried about bam, and then i met our neighbours."

she recoils, betrayal etched all over her face. "without me?"

"i wasn't expecting to."

"but you did! you could've come tell me!" she stomps her foot, huffing. "i hate you."

"miri..."

she ignores him, stalking off to grab her stool and dropping it firmly in front of the kitchen sink. she puts her bowl inside silently and stomps past him to play with bam outside, and jungkook doesn't bother trying to get her to change out of her pyjamas.

he sighs in his empty kitchen, thunking his head backwards on his fridge. he draws a hand down his face and his mind whirls with a thousand thoughts a second, but it only sticks firmly to one.

his neighbour. his unfortunately handsome neighbour. his unfortunately handsome neighbour with an amazing laugh and lightning-strike smile.

i'm fucked.

—

after a few days, a black labrador appears out the front of your yard, chasing a yellow rope bone that it brings back to anya. jungkook's walking bam, having just dropped miri off at school, and doesn't expect to have his arm yanked off by an overexcited pet.

"bam! what's gotten into you?" he struggles against the leash, acutely aware of the other dog on the other end of bam's attention. "calm – calm down."

bam stills, panting and alert as the black lab stares back, half-poised to drop the bone at anya's feet.

jungkook loosens the leash cutting into his hand, and it's the wrong decision. bam tears off towards the other dog.

jungkook swears as the leash slices out of his grip. he stumbles after him, dread and panic slurring together for a split second – but confusion cuts through the mess as the two dogs pause, watching each other very closely.

bam barks. the labrador glances back at the house, as if to check for permission—

and drops the toy in front of bam.

it lays down, placing its head on its paws, and gnaws at the end of the bone. every so often, it glances up at bam, blinking in that sweet puppy way.

bam lays down beside it, his flamingo-coloured leash trailing over his back. both dogs' tails wag in comfortable excitement.

"hi, miri's papa."

jungkook tears his stare off the dogs. "hey, anya. where's your dad?"

"inside."

"okay. thanks." he glances at the dogs; the toy is now in bam's jaws. "uh, are you cool with watching over him? i'll be quick."

she nods, full of purpose and determination. as he reaches for the door handle, however, she raises her voice with innocent curiosity:

"do you love papa?"

the door handle shears a layer of skin off his knuckles. he chuckles uneasily, clutching it. "what? no."

she tilts her head, playing with her laces. she did them herself this morning. "really?"

"o-of course. why would i love him? more importantly, why do you think that?"

she purses her lips as if it's obvious. "you look like you love papa."

he runs his thumb over the flap of skin. no blood, but it stings.

"you sound like you love papa."

he tilts his head. "what are you talking about?"

"you make faces and your voice gets all weird when you talk to him." she turns back to the dogs, stretching her stocking-clad legs out from her seat on the driveway. she yawns until her jaw cracks. "you're just like all the other ladies who love papa. but i don't think they like me." she glances up. "you're nicer than them."

"other ladies?" he whispers to himself with a frown. slowly, he returns to her, bobbing down to sit next to her. she stares up at him with big eyes, expectant. "anya, if i may... what happened to your mother? it's okay if you don't want to answer."

she shrugs, kicking her feet. "i don't know. i live with papa now. i like it better this way – he doesn't get angry at me like she did, and he makes better food." she rubs her nose. "they fought a lot before we moved. papa pretends like they didn't, but i know they did. i could hear them."

"yeah?" jungkook says quietly. "was that back in america?"

she nods, playing with the blades of grass. she peels them in half, drops them in a pile on the concrete, then picks another one and does the same. "mhm. they decided we'd live with papa."

"huh." he pauses and tilts his head. "wait, 'we'?"

"anya! dad's done, are you hungry?"

a girl leans out the front door. she's older, wearing braids, and her familiar eyes snap to jungkook's with abrupt alarm. she slips into the shoes by the door and hurries over, grabbing anya by the shoulder and pulling her away. "who are you?"

anya whines, wriggling out of her grip. "this is mister jungkook! he loves papa."

he stands too quickly; the older girl steps back. "no. no, i don't, anya. i'm just a friend – i live right there."

"uh-huh," says the older girl, putting anya's hand in her own. "let's go, okay? dad's waiting."

"papa made carrot cake," anya insists. "you should come!"

"you can't just invite strangers—"

"but papa knows him—"

"doesn't matter, i don't know him—"

a new voice, familiar and gentle. "girls, everything alright?"

jungkook turns with a leap of his heart. you wear jeans and a grey v-neck sweater rolled up at the sleeves to reveal the stiff cuffs of a white dress shirt. the collar pokes out over the sweater.

you're dressed like any other man on the street, some form of business casual, but jungkook's heart acts as if he's seen you naked. he'd love to. god, he'd love to. would you like him?

focus!

"good morning," he greets, dusting off his black joggers. "how goes things?"

you glance over him and he covers his bare biceps self-consciously. your lips quirk up. "hey, jungkook. things are great. i see you've met ellie."

"ellie," he repeats. he gives her a small, sheepish smile and offers a hand. "hi. i'm sorry for worrying you. maybe we can make amends?"

she glances down at his hand. her eyes flicker to you, and after receiving a certain look, she sighs and begrudgingly takes his hand, giving it a firmer-than-necessary shake. "yeah, sure. whatever."

she pulls anya into the house with her and you give her another look – this one meaning we'll talk later – before heading out to the driveway to speak with jungkook.

"i'm sorry about her," you huff. "twelve-year-olds..."

"don't worry about it. her heart's in the right place," jungkook hums, glancing up at you with a soft smile. his hands have taken much of his attention. "so, two?"

"yeah. she just arrived last night – i promise she isn't usually so grumpy." you jerk your head towards the house with a grin, hands in your pockets. "i heard them arguing about you. if you think my decision holds more weight than theirs, you're welcome to come in. i made carrot cake – my own personal recipe, tried-and-tested with the kids." you wink. "you know it's good when children willingly eat vegetables. any allergies?"

"i'd love to," he replies, his cheeks warmer than usual. "and no, i don't."

your smile widens, blindingly bright. you turn to the dogs and pat your thigh, reaching out for the labrador that trots over with an excited bounce. "you can bring bam in, too. they seem to get along – no reason to break them apart, right?"

"are you sure? bam's pretty easily excited, and he's a lot bigger than he thinks he is."

"hey." you take his hands, stopping him from picking obsessively at the cuticles. it's a bad habit he can't seem to shake. "we've had callus since he was ten weeks old. i know exactly what you're talking about, and my offer still stands."

"callus?" he asks, his brain too full of the thought of your warmth to do much else.

you roll your eyes fondly. "i hate the name, but ellie chose it and trained him to it, so it's stuck ever since. so – you coming in, or are you just gonna hold my hands for the next hour?"

"what?" he says. oh, fuck, you've loosened your grip but he hasn't. he's holding your hands. he's still holding them. he drops them. "a-ah, i'll come in!"

you laugh, and jungkook's heart squeezes tight in a red fist as he follows you to the front door. "alright, jungkook. don't tell the girls, but i'll give you a bigger piece of cake, okay? it'll be our secret."

"okay," jungkook breathes, and feels like a teenager all over again.

however, he might have forgotten to factor in the feelings of a certain five-year-old girl.

"you saw them again!"

"i know, i'm sorry," jungkook pleads, "but you were at school! hey, look, i even saved you some of yn's cake, alright? it's really good. he invited us – both of us – over to his place tomorrow. you can meet him and his daughters, and have a lunch better than i could ever make. how about it?"

miri pouts, kicking her feet on the couch. her schoolbag sits by the end of the sofa. "fine."

"oh, good," he sighs, relieved.

"but," she raises a finger, "you can't fall in love with him."

he whips around faster than light. "you, too? why am i not allowed to?"

"you're not allowed to be his wife."

"i'm a man, miri. it doesn't work like that."

"yes, it does."

"it doesn't."

"it does," she insists, "ellie said—!"

she slaps a hand over her mouth and falls backwards on the sofa.

jungkook pauses, his hands hovering over a cucumber on the chopping board. very carefully, he continues slicing long ovals out of it. he asks calmly, "have you met each other before?"

"no." she sits up, long black hair falling over her shoulders. "only to play with the dogs..."

"then you shouldn't be so upset that i did the same thing, right? does yn know you played with his daughters?"

miri, with as much gravitas as a five-year-old can muster, replies: "no."

he shakes his head with a huff of laughter, using the back of the knife to scrape the cucumber in a container. "alright. is that where you found this rumour? did they tell you?"

"appa, it's not a rumour if it's true," she argues, rising to her feet on the sofa. she leans forward against the backrest. "i've seen it with my own eyes! you talk about him like – like – not a friend! i never saw you talk about anybody else that way."

"uh-huh. and what do you know about being in love, miri? what does ellie know? she's twelve, and you've only just learnt how to tie your hair in a ponytail. very messily. no standing on the couch."

she falls back behind the edge of the backrest with a huff, vanishing from jungkook's sight. "you'd be a bad wife."

he carves the store-bought roast chicken, sawing through the thighs and shaving smaller slices off the body. he digs through the breast to stab at the herbed stuffing. a lock of hair falls loose from his low ponytail and he tosses his head to get it out of his eyes. "do i dare ask why?"

he's terribly competitive – whether it's a good or bad trait, he doesn't know. while he may never be a wife, being called bad at something – by his own blood, no less! – sets fire to something he tried to bury back in university.

"because you're mean and not funny and never wake up before twelve o'clock."

he gapes, putting down his serrated knife to scoff at the couch. "i am funny, thank you very much. why should you never eat a clock?"

"um, because it's made of metal and plastic?" miri answers.

"it's time-consuming," he snickers.

her head pops up over the backrest, pinched into a frown. "that isn't funny, appa."

"you don't appreciate my effort, miri. i'm hurt."

"you know who would, though?" her gaze intensifies. she points through the walls to the house to their left with the neat lawn. "he would. which makes it even worse, because then you'll love each other, and then i'll have to hear two bad jokes instead of one. it'll be in – in – insuff'rable. i learnt that word today, did you know?"

"it's 'insufferable', miri."

"you proved it! you're mean. anyway, ellie said she'd hate it if you and her appa got together."

out of protectiveness? or something learnt and cruel?

miri disappears behind the sofa again only to reappear beside it, moving towards the kitchen and leaning against jungkook's left leg.

"appa, it smells really good."

jungkook grabs a set of chopsticks and hooks out a chunk of meat. he crouches and offers the meat, holding a hand beneath her small chin to catch anything that doesn't make it to home base. nothing falls, and he draws away.

"here," jungkook murmurs. "can you set the table, please?"

"mhm."

she skips off with the cutlery in hand. jungkook carries the large bowl with the carcass and places it in the middle of the dining table, petting miri's hair on the way back to the kitchen.

he's always worried about how others perceive him. always. he's twenty-five with a school-aged kid and no mother in sight, and he makes fucking video games for a living – he's not even something respectable, like a doctor. at the very least, he could've been a nine-to-fiver, a suit amongst identical suits, and with that, his image would be inoffensive.

but video games? being a concept artist, an animator? for even a big triple-a kind of company, it's not a great reputation to kick off with: he draws colourful lines and makes things move. even though he earns a salary comfortable enough to keep his little family afloat, his name is one of hundreds as an optional post-credits roll, and it's not on the first page.

still, the way you beamed at his mumbled description of his job... it made things a little lighter to bear.

"come eat up, bub," he says. "maybe you'll entertain the idea of my future marriage once you realise how boring my dinners are."

—

pacific rim rumbles through the sound system. rather surprisingly, neither of the five-year-olds mind its big, scary battles. jungkook chalks up miri's fascination with the robots and monsters with a general nonchalance towards violence and gore. she watched train to busan when she was three – which was not jungkook's fault; she wasn't supposed to be awake and sitting spookily in the darkness on the stairs – and shrugged off most of the blood and guts as simply fake.

he should have been paying more attention to his surroundings than his laptop screen and the accident he'd sired in motionbuilder, he realises now, but a good consequence is that miri avoids frozen and its brethren like the plague. he doesn't think he'll be able to keep his sanity if he hears any movie three times consecutively.

ellie plays animal crossing on the switch, cross-legged between you and jungkook with her head against your shoulder. a leopard-print blanket wraps around her shoulders and pools in her lap. every time something explodes or crashes, she glances up, fixated for a moment, before returning to her village.

miri and anya are fast asleep on jungkook's thigh. another blanket, this one blue with thin pink stripes, covers them both, and jungkook's arm lays gently across their shoulders. he'd turned the volume right down for them and the two dogs cuddling in the labrador's bed, though his 5.1.4 speaker setup retains enough boom in the subwoofer to keep him immersed.

eventually, ellie's body droops, and the switch falls from her hands into her lap as her hair flops across her face. three quarters into the movie, you gently take her into your arms and tuck her into bed, and jungkook watches over the remaining two, tucking a silky lock of hair behind miri's ear. his leg is going numb and the tingling is growing uncomfortable, but he'll be damned if he wakes them.

you return. there's a pop-art picture of a sea dragon made of sushi on your shirt, and jungkook smiles at the sight. you slip your arms beneath anya's body and she shivers as the blanket slips off, curling deeper into your chest.

"today's been tiring for them all," you murmur as jungkook scoops miri up in the blanket. "they'll be knocked clear out until tomorrow."

the two will share a bed for the night, and they'd been gleefully planning their sleepover itinerary the entire day, whispering to each other about staying up past their bedtimes to chat about everything. you press a kiss to anya's forehead, brushing her hair off her cheek, and jungkook tucks miri's wrapped-up body beneath the duvet.

you shut the door with a quiet click. it feels final, as if you've signed a legal form, and when your gaze flickers over to jungkook, you find him already staring back with an unreadable expression, a mess of emotions warring over his doe-like features. it smooths over a split second after your eyes meet.

you tilt your head towards the kitchen with a smile. "still awake? i can break out some bourbon. i also have some red wine, if that's more your style."

"i'll take the wine, if it's not too much trouble," he replies softly. "i've already had a drink tonight and i have work in the morning."

"of course." with the girls asleep, you're free to do as you wish. you take his hand in your own, and his breath hitches. your thumb brushes over his jawline. "i'll steal a glass as well."

jungkook likes to pretend he has everything under control. his heart, however, is under a different jurisdiction, and you prod it with your smile and warm touch until it quivers, naked and bare.

then, you are gone. his pulse pounds hotly in his ears as he shuffles after you, almost afraid of what he might spill under the wine.

he'll only have a glass, he promises himself. nothing will come of it.

"i wanted to tell you this before, but we had company. your pyjamas are cute," you tell him as you set down his glass, holding the newly-opened wine bottle in the other hand. you gesture to his inked arms. "and those are gorgeous."

"thank you," he murmurs, taking the stem between his fingers. he rubs his thumb over the swell of the glass and tucks his feet behind the barstool's legs. "you ever looking to get something done?"

a smile tugs at your lips. "i already have."

his eyes widen behind the glass. he sets it down, trying to keep his prying gaze discreet. "really? what of?"

"it's here."

to his scandalised pleasure, you grab your shirt and the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them apart to reveal a curved tattoo along your hipbone. his starved gaze roams the exposed skin, the sliver of stomach and the dangerously-low slant of your pants.

he burns with painful desire. it stings at the back of his eyes, and his back teeth grind down on nothing as he swallows harshly, lifting a hand casually to his face to hide it.

"'s pretty," he rasps, clearing his throat. his knuckles whiten around the wine glass. "when did you get it?"

"as soon as i was old enough. i was always a romantic, you see," you joke, letting go of your clothes. they fall back into place and he mourns the loss. at least he has a new fantasy to bookmark. "i thought it was cute, and she liked it, so i kept it."

she.

jungkook's heart tumbles to the pit of his stomach at the reminder of what he is – and what he isn't. he chugs the wine and chases the buzz of intoxication.

"you don't... really talk about before," he says quietly. "i-i mean, it's personal, why would you? we met last month—"

"it's been the best month of the last few years," you interrupt, filling his glass again. you reach up to bring down one for yourself and he leans forward, his mouth dry as he catches a slit of skin as your shirt rides up.

it's almost funny how desperate he is.

"y-yeah?"

"yeah." you set the glass on the bench, opposite jungkook. you reach for his hand and he watches with bated breath as you link your fingers lazily with his. "moving has always been a hard experience, especially with those two troublemakers to keep an eye on, and you've been amazing to me – to us – all this time. jungkook, you made it easy to fall into a routine i enjoy."

"oh." he grips your fingers. "so... her, huh? are the kids hers?"

"yep."

"were you ever married?"

"for a while."

it pops out before he can stop it. "what happened?"

"okay..." you offer him a tight smile, unlinking your fingers to fill your glass higher than it's supposed to be.

last page, the end. that part of you will not be touched again.

"i'm sorry, yn-ssi—"

"'hyung'," you interrupt. "you can call me 'hyung', jungkook. our dogs are in love – i'd like to think we're closer than those formalities."

he nods, a little uncertain. it shows in his eyes, flitting about your kitchen as if searching for the nearest door. "if you think so, hyung."

you smile, and this one is looser, easy to enjoy. "better. what about you – would you ever think of finding someone?"

he laughs breathily, briefly pressing the back of his thumb to his lower lip. "ah, well. you know how it is. i've got miri to worry about."

"and a girlfriend wouldn't adore her, too? that spells trouble."

his mouth twitches in some semblance of a smile, small and wry. "i hear that's your biggest problem. anya mentioned that you're pretty popular, but that she's a deterrent."

you sigh, rounding the bench and taking a seat near him at the dining table. you rest an arm over the back of the chair. "what can you do, right? there's nothing to be done except wait and hope that the perfect one will come along sooner or later. other friends always tell me that i don't need anyone, that i'm doing really well."

you rub the back of your neck, and jungkook follows the tendons leading down past your collar. you smile up at him, warmer than usual. "but i've always been selfish."

"it wouldn't only be a girlfriend," jungkook says suddenly. he grabs the bottle of wine and tops up his glass far more than a single standard drink. "i'm, uh, you know... kind of into everyone. but i'm loyal. if there's one thing that i am, that's it."

"would you like to go on record with that for the company's diversity initiative?"

he turns, and you grin a little dorkily back at him, a wine-touched buzz in your veins. he rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh, raising his glass. "sure, if it gets me someone nice to talk to. fuck, i can't remember the last time i just... went to a bar and didn't give a shit. let loose." he sighs. "i was terrible in university – god, it physically pains me. i've known miri since she was a baby, but sometimes i wonder if she was the only one, you know?"

you reach out and push his thigh with a chuckle. "hey, no frowning; it's bad for your skin. it's not good to dwell on possibles, jungkook. you have miri. you have me. those are certainties. agonising over what might be does nothing for anyone."

as he turns on the stool, his tongue runs over his lower lip. he grips the seat between his thighs, one knee bouncing. "but what if—"

"jungkook, the more you stress over it, the less you're present with miri. she's a sweet girl – please don't neglect her for uncertainties."

your hands cup his, reassuring and warm, as you pull your chair in. his head bobs in a small, slow nod.

"i guess you're right," he mumbles. "hey, hyung... were you always a chef?"

you laugh. "no. i had ellie when i was pretty young and i jumped from job to job for some time. i made decks for a while – carpentry. did other contract jobs. i only went to culinary school a few years ago when i had the funds for it."

"how did you know?" he asks softly. "how did you know it was all gonna be okay?"

you shrug. "i didn't. i just took it one day at a time, one week at a time, one month at a time, and eventually, i got here." you rest your chin over his knuckles and hum, gazing up at him. "don't think. just do. you'll be alright, jungkook. my door is never closed to you, even if you just want to drink all my wine and eat all my cereal."

he laughs, barely more than a soft giggle. "thanks, hyung. that... actually made me feel better, weirdly enough."

"good. i don't like seeing you upset." you squeeze his hands. "you're looking rather pink. you should slow down with the wine."

he glances at his empty glass and the nearly-empty bottle. he can't remember drinking so much. his cheeks are hot. "yeah. yeah, i probably should." he begins to rise. "sorry for—"

your arms wrap firmly around his waist as he stumbles. he blinks harshly, his horizons tilting dangerously.

"did you spike that?" he jokes half-heartedly. "shit, i'm regressing to a lightweight..."

"you drank three-quarters of the bottle in the time it takes me to have a shower. that's called being an idiot, not a lightweight."

your palm cups his cheek. it's cool and soothing against jungkook's burning skin, and it burns hotter when he realises he can feel your heartbeat through his own ribs. his traitorous hands are already placed on your sides.

"we are... incredibly close right now," he whispers.

your eyes flicker down to his lips, pink and parted. "i don’t mind."

you take the point of his chin between your thumb and forefinger, tilting his head up from his flushed downcast gaze. his hands hover over your ribs, his own cracking with the force of his heart, and he slides them over your chest to grasp the back of your neck, his thumbs stroking the slope of your jawline.

"jungkook," you murmur against his warm lips, "we should do this tomorrow. when your mind's clearer."

"tomorrow i might not do anything. i'm a coward, hyung. please... just once? so i can remember what it's like?"

he leans in again, and you don't stop him. his lips mould with yours, the sweet, dark flavour zinged with a slight bitterness. he hums softly as your arms tighten around his slender waist.

when you finally part, you're both gasping for air, and jungkook offers a giddy smile.

"man," he pants, "that's a lot more fun than i remember."

"i think you just have to find the right person to do it with." you laugh quietly and he drops his head onto your shoulder, hiding his blush.

"would you be mine?" he asks, allowing a fleck of hope to plague his voice. "would you be my boyfriend, yn-hyung?"

you brush a lock of his hair out of his eyes. "ask me again tomorrow. i want to be sure you'll remember what you've done – it'd be pretty awkward if you forgot and i came up and kissed you."

he huffs. "i'm not that drunk – look, i'm a little tipsy. maybe a bit more than tipsy. whatever the case, i'm not gonna forget this." he runs his tongue over his lower lip slowly, as if to savour something. "i'll ask again in the morning – with one condition."

you tilt your head, eyes gentle. "and what might that be?"

"a goodnight kiss. doesn't have to be on the lips, but it would be nice—"

you shut him up. he melts into it, tilting his head to deepen it, and he presses his whole body into yours, as if he can open up your skin and step inside, as close as close allows.

here is someone who understands him – here is his heart, here are his lungs, here is the flesh and bone that forms love. he loves love, and the carrot cake that love cuts for him, and the peaceful sleeping puppies resting their heads on each others' backs in love's living room.

he kisses you again, and his touch is the blinding supernova of a promise.

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