Chapter Text
You fucking hate baking.
Everything about it - the planning, the stress of making sure all of the measurements are precise, keeping an eye on the timer to remember to not burn something, the waiting (good GOD the waiting) while everything was in the oven, and even the decorating. It was arduous and meticulous and far too sweet for your taste. But for some reason your friends commend you on your “hidden talent” and always demand something when you all hang out together. Even though you find it annoying to spend an entire afternoon doing this, you can’t help but admit that seeing their faces light up is almost worth it. Namjoon, Jin, and Jimin’s compliments are sincere, Jungkook and Hoseok’s faces are always adorable, and Taehyung’s boxy smile as well as Yoongi’s gummy grin are something you search for when they taste your creations.
But these macarons are testing your last nerve. You may not enjoy this activity, but your need for perfection kicks into overdrive with something this tedious. The double sifting the flour, making sure the egg whites aren’t too peaked, folding the dough just right...this is starting to become overwhelming. You still have a couple of hours before everyone comes over, and last night you went over your entire apartment twice to make sure at least that was perfect, but you know time is creeping up. Your pride is screaming at you, but you have to call for backup. You dial Jimin’s number, knowing he can get to your apartment the fastest.
“Hey, Y/N! What’s up?” Jimin’s cheery greeting sets your mind at ease, but only for a second.
“Jimin, these desserts are really screwing me over. I know it’s a few more hours before everyone arrives, but I really need your help, and I know you may be--”
Jimin chuckles,“Hey, hey hey. Don’t worry about it - I’ll be there in ten. Can you handle it ‘til then?”
You pause to let out a deep breath. “Yeah, just get over here quick, please. Ok, bye.” You hang up the phone and stare at it, defeated. If there is one thing you hate doing, it’s asking for help. Not only that, but this is also giving away what you’re making for everyone - you like seeing their surprise when they walk in, not knowing what you’ve been slaving over. Now Jimin’s going to know.
Whatever, it’s better than having to tell everyone you couldn’t make something this time, you remind yourself.
Ten minutes later, on the dot, Jimin walks in as you’re scooping the dough for the cookies into a pastry bag. You’re so focused on getting every last bit in the bag that you don’t notice him leaning against the fridge. You straighten up to put the bowl in the sink and nearly jump out of your skin, “Shit!”
Jimin’s face erupts in laughter and he nearly falls to the floor. You grumble as he stays hunched over, his elation filling the room. “Y/N, oh my God! You were so focused! I couldn’t help myself!” He gasps as he stands back up and pats you on the shoulder, “You’re so funny when you’re serious like that, I’m sorry.”
His laughter is cute, but you’re still anxious about these macarons. You let out an exasperated sigh as you grab the pastry bag and bring it to the cookie sheet. “God, Jimin, please don’t do that. This is really stressing me out and if these don’t come out right…”
He crosses the kitchen and leans on the counter next to where you’re working, “Yeah, what is this you’re making by the way?”
“Macarons,” you point to the cookie sheet with the purple cookies, “I went a little extra and made two flavors - those are lavender and they need another 15 minutes before I put them in the oven.”
Jimin’s eyes widen, “Whoa, Y/N! They’re gonna love these! What flavor is this one?”
You pipe the dough into little perfect circles as he points to them. You’re laser focused and almost don’t hear him. “These are milk flavored, from condensed milk.”
“Oh my, Jungkookie’s really gonna love those. So what can I do, since you called me over here?”
The rest of the afternoon you spend ordering Jimin around - mixing the butter, sugar, and flavoring for the creams, setting timers for the cookies to go in the oven and then to cool. You are initially nervous to let Jimin pipe the cream on the cookies, as you firmly believe in “if you want something done right, do it yourself”, but you are surprised at how evenly he does it. His focus also throws you off - usually when he’s here with everyone he’s light-hearted and silly. And it’s not to say he isn’t that while he’s helping you - but right now everything is quiet as you both focus on your duties. You finish piping the cookies in front of you and look over to see his blonde hair fall over his forehead as he concentrates on his last few. You glance at the clock and realize that with his help you still have nearly thirty minutes left. “Alright, looks like we just need to top these and clean up,” you say as you wring your hands. The final touches of any baking endeavor always makes you the most nervous - it’ll either turn out great or go horribly wrong.
You sense Jimin looking at your hands, and he places one of his on your arm. “Hey, no need to be nervous - this is easy. I can start cleaning if you want to finish those.”
You're grateful that he’s picking up on your perfectionist streak and letting you handle the cookies. And he is right - finishing these are nerve-wracking but very simple. Before you know it, you’re plating the cookies and putting them on the table as Jimin dries and puts away the dishes and tools. He’s humming some song you’re not familiar with, but the melody is calming. You love how anytime you’re with everyone, it’s either he or Jungkook singing/humming something, providing delicate background noise to whatever is going on.
As Jimin hums, he walks over to the table and reaches towards one of the lavender macarons. “Jimin!” You slap his hand away, “What are you doing?!”
His eyes enlarge in feigned disbelief, and pouts,“What, Y/N? How are we supposed to know these are good without trying them first?” He quickly grabs one and holds it between the two of you. “Come on, just one? No one will know, plus they look so delicious.” He tilts his head and you can almost hear him plead by the way he’s looking at you.
Your eyes leave his gaze to contemplate the cookie. Well, one wouldn’t hurt I guess. And the guys won’t know. “Fine.”
Jimin’s eyes crinkle at his victory, and you hold your breath as he takes a bite. His face instantly opens up and he covers his mouth, “Oh my god, Y/N! These are incredible!”
You try to hold back a smile, “Really?”
“Try out your handiwork,” he says as he holds the half-eaten cookie in front of you.
Might as well, the cookie’s gonna be eaten anyway. You reach out to grab the cookie but Jimin has already moved it to your lips. You try to stare him down but can’t help giggling at his playfulness. He’s always like this with everyone, so touchy-feely. At first you were uncomfortable with him constantly sharing affection, but over time you warmed up to it. You taste the cookie between his fingers...and he’s right. You purposely made these subtle flavors because you don’t like overly sweet things, and you can’t help but mentally pat yourself on the back.
You immediately refocus, however, when you feel Jimin’s fingers brushing your lips. He smirks at your surprise, “You’ve got crumbs, silly.”
“Um...right, cool. Thanks.” You’ve seen him feed food to everyone before, countless times. This is just Jimin being Jimin...
Jimin brushes his hand on his jeans and walks over to the couch. “So, there’s still a little time before everyone’s here. Wanna watch something?” He flops onto the couch and waits for you.
“Uh, yeah...sure. That sounds nice,” you mutter. You leave a little space on the couch, but Jimin repositions so he’s right next to you.
You try to focus on whichever random show you picked, reminding yourself that Jimin always sits this close to everyone, even with you before. But you have never been alone with him, so this closeness seems totally unnecessary given the ample space on the couch. Y/N, stop overthinking this. Like you said, this is just Jimin - you’ve known him for years at this point. This doesn’t mean anything. Quit reading into it.
Jimin’s hand on your knee jerks you out of your head. “You ok?”
You respond a little faster than you anticipate, “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Why?” Your nervous tick of rubbing your thumb on the pad of your pointer finger shows up, and you can tell Jimin notices.
“You just seem a little...preoccupied. Are you usually like this before we come over?”
No, I’m usually pacing the room making sure everything’s perfect. “Well...a little, yeah.”
“Aahh,” he nudges you with his elbow, “it’s just us, Y/N. There’s no need to be nervous! We’ve known you what...about 3 years now? When you moved back from school and were closer to us, we got so excited to be able to visit you more and see your nice apartment. Does hosting really stress you out that much?”
“Well, in a way, yeah,” you hate admitting this, but Jimin’s soft voice and obvious concern coax you to relax. “I do like you guys coming over, I’m just…”
Jimin angles his head down, looking at you playfully, “...a perfectionist?”
You can’t help but chuckle and shove him back with your elbow, “Yeah…it’s that obvious?”
“With how you hovered over me making the cream filling? Of course!”
You both laugh, and you feel your tension melt away. See? You’re getting worried for nothing. You lean back against the couch and focus back on the TV.
A handful of silent minutes pass as you both zone out. Jimin checks his phone, “Looks like they’re almost here.” You nod, finding yourself getting engrossed in this random crime show. “So, Y/N…”
“Hmm?”
“I hate to think you get regularly stressed out with us coming over here. Sounds like you deserve something fun and easy - there’s this carnival going on next weekend and seems nice. We should go.”
It’s been years since you’ve been to a carnival. “Sure, that sounds nice,” you turn to him, “with the guys?”
Jimin pouts, “What, you can’t have fun with just me?” His tone gets sassier as he continues, “I thought this would be a nice gesture after all the hosting you’ve done - plus I’m the only one that helped you out today! Aish, whatever, forget about it…” He crosses his arms and dramatically looks away.
You nearly snort at his haughty attitude, “Jimin, shut up! I’m sorry, yes, I’d love to go.”
He’s still looking away and mumbles, “No, no, if you want to go with everyone that can happen too…”
You mimic his playfulness and take a hold of his arm. “Jimin,” he finally turns to face you, and you stare him down, “I am perfectly happy to go with you. Now will you stop pouting?”
Jimin looks up at the ceiling, mulling over your request. He sighs loudly, “Fine, if that’s what you want.”
“You asked me to go with you!”
Jimin breaks and collapses against the couch, rolling in laughter, “Ok, ok! It’s a date, then - we’ll go to the carnival!”
Before you can ask him to clarify, your door swings open and the guys file in, their greetings and exclamations over the macarons drowning out the TV. The rest of the evening continues like any other with them - praises over your “masterpiece”, jokes flying left and right, little games as if they’re not all grown men in their twenties.
And before you know it, they’re filing out of your apartment, the macaron plates picked clean. Jimin scurries out with them, echoing their goodbyes, and shuts the door. You stand in the middle of the living room, reeling, replaying the events before everyone arrived.
Did Jimin...just ask me out on a date?