Work Text:
“Are you even old enough to drink?”
It’s late, it’s really really late, past when responsible adults should be awake, and Jungkook has spent all day gearing himself up to come in and talk to this guy, and the first thing he hears is are you old enough to drink.
He tries not to scowl. His eye definitely twitches. It’s all pent up energy and pride, but he feels more on edge than he should. He’s too nervous to start a fight right now, but he could probably take him. Probably. He’s taller, broader.
This guy, though.
The man behind the bar is all sunshine and cheekbones, black hair trimmed short on the sides and styled up so the planes of his face are sharp and exposed. His face is sharp, his eyes are sharp. Jungkook feels a little bit like he’s being cut down where he stands.
Maybe he couldn’t take him.
The bartender looks like he could rip Jungkook to shreds with his eyes alone. Jungkook feels thin and unprotected.
“Of course I am,” Jungkook answers instead, a little strained. He’s sweating. He hopes the other man doesn’t notice.
The man raises an eyebrow. “You’re wearing a backpack.”
Jungkook fiddles with the straps. “Adults use backpacks, too.”
“Do they?” He seems unimpressed.
“They’re better for your back.”
The bartender snorts. “Okay, fair. But I don’t know many adults who bring backpacks to a bar.”
This, at least, is probably true. Jungkook was originally supposed to stop by the bar after his classes were over, a more appropriate time for a college student to look like a college student, but he’s spent the last several hours either pacing in the park or walking up and down the street outside the bar trying to convince himself that yes, he can do it, thank you.
Now it’s one o’ clock on a Tuesday and the only people in the building are two waiters wiping down tables, a really sad looking man asleep at the bar, and Jungkook, looking like a high schooler that put on a nice shirt for school pictures and then wandered into the wrong building by accident.
There is also the bartender, who is currently trying not to laugh. “How old are you?” he asks, laughter shut and locked behind a barely controlled deadpan.
“I’m 19,” Jungkook says thickly. He can feel how warm his cheeks are. His backpack is heavy on his shoulders, weighed down by overpriced textbooks and shame.
“I need to see an ID before I can sell you alcohol.”
“I don’t want alcohol.”
“Why else would a 19-year-old be in a bar at one in the morning, backpack or no?”
Jungkook kind of wants to slap that incredulous eyebrow off of the bartender’s face, but mostly he’s impressed by its dexterity. “I’m looking for a job,” Jungkook says, a less violent alternative.
The man goes back to wiping down the counter. “As a waiter? We just hired Jimin, and Taehyung is a handful by himself—” The waiter with the blond hair whoops loudly, startling the drunk man out of his stupor.
“Taehyung, that wasn’t a compliment!” The shorter waiter swats him hard in the arm. “It’s too late for you to be screaming.”
Jungkook isn’t really sure how to handle that much energy so unexpectedly, but the bartender looks fond even as he rolls his eyes. “I don’t know if we need any more. I’m sorry.”
“Uh.” Jungkook grips his backpack so hard his knuckles pop. “I don’t actually want to be a waiter. I was interested in trying bartending.”
To the other man’s credit, he doesn’t look surprised. “I’ll need to see an ID for that, too,” he says smoothly.
Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief and pulls his backpack off his shoulders to grab his wallet.
“I’m assuming you’re looking for a way to make some extra cash,” the man says, taking Jungkook’s license when it’s offered to him.
“I did work study at school last year, but…” Working in his university’s dance office was probably the worst part of Jungkook’s freshman year, and he had to take chemistry. Twice. Still, it’s probably not a good idea to badmouth his old boss to…his new boss? Potential boss? Is this guy even in charge? “I think I would like working here a lot better.”
“Ah.” The man goes back to wiping down the counters after coolly sliding the ID back to Jungkook. “Sit.” He motions toward the barstools.
Jungkook picks the seat furthest away from the last man at the bar on a Tuesday at one o’ clock in the morning, because he looks really sad and Jungkook doesn’t need that kind of negativity in his life. “Are you, um…” Jungkook tries to remember. “Are you Kim Seokjin-ssi or Jung Hoseok-ssi?”
“Jung Hoseok.” He bows slightly.
Jungkook bows as well as he can on his stool. “Jeon Jungkook. I’m a friend of Yoongi-hyung’s.”
Hoseok raises an eyebrow. Again, with that damn eyebrow. “Yoongi-hyung has friends?”
“Is that…” A joke? No? “Yes? He does. And one of them is me, possibly.” He clears his throat. This is maybe kind of an interview. Jungkook should be more confident. “I am definitely Yoongi-hyung’s friend.”
The bartender coughs awkwardly into his hand and Jungkook pretends that he doesn't know Hoseok is laughing at him. "How do you know him?"
"I..." bum at his house sometimes. "He's a family friend.” Which is true, more or less. His parents met Yoongi once and liked him well enough.
"Did he tell you about this place?"
"This place" is a fairly popular bar downtown that Jungkook would probably never have entered had he not been looking for a job. The Blue Shell is nicer on the inside than the neighborhood would suggest, but Jungkook is still kind of out of his element.
It's clean and smells like, well, a bar. Alcohol and sweat, but whatever Hoseok is using to wipe everything down with smells really nice, so Jungkook focuses on that. It helps calm him down. He remembers the paper in his hands. "Oh, um..." He sets it on the counter, slightly crumpled.
Hoseok puts his hand on it and pushes it back towards Jungkook. He has nice hands. "Keep it."
"Uh." Jungkook stares at it for a second before taking it, folding it delicately and putting it in his pocket. “Alright."
"How much do you know about bartending?" Hoseok asks. He's doing this thing, where he keeps focused on what he's doing, and he keeps checking on the guy on the other end of the bar, and yet somehow Jungkook still feels like he has all of Hoseok's attention. Which is both nerve-wracking and impressive.
"Very little." Jungkook taps his thumb nervously on his thigh where Hoseok can't see.
"Hmm."
Jungkook's cheeks are pink.
"What makes you want to learn?"
Because I think it's really cool. Can Jungkook say that? It doesn't feel like a good answer.
He doesn't actually have to answer, because the lone, sad man asks sloppily for another drink. He doesn't ask for anything specific.
"One second," Hoseok tells Jungkook.
Jungkook watches Hoseok mix the man his drink. Hoseok knows what he's doing, that much is clear. He pushes the glass towards the man. "On the house," he says with a smile, a bright one, heart-shaped. Jungkook is too nervous to think about it right now, but later he might decide that he likes that smile a lot.
"What was that?" he asks.
Hoseok makes his way back to where Jungkook is sitting after refilling the man's glass of water. "Vodka soda."
Jungkook eyeballs the untouched bottles of vodka on the shelf.
Hoseok smiles, smaller this time. "Sans vodka."
"Can you do that?"
"It's a free drink, it's not like he's paying for it." The older man shrugs. "He can't even tell it's not alcohol, probably. He doesn't really care about the drink right now anyway."
Jungkook shifts in his seat.
Hoseok looks at him. "Sometimes you have to cut people off."
"I know," Jungkook says softly.
"It's awkward. And direct confrontation rarely does any good." Hoseok runs a hand through his hair, pushes it off of his forehead. "Are you nice?"
"Um." Jungkook blinks. "Yes. I think so."
"And are a friendly sort of nice or a shy sort of nice?"
“I’m—” Jungkook chokes on his answer, but it doesn't matter because Hoseok definitely knows without being told.
"Can you be the friendly sort of nice?"
Jungkook looks at Hoseok's dark purple tie instead of his face, trying to gather himself. He sets his jaw and looks the bartender in the eye. "Yes." He isn't sure. He's probably lying. Hoseok probably knows.
But he smiles anyway. Yes, Jungkook is definitely going to decide that he likes that smile when he thinks about it later.
“Okay, Jungkookie,” Hoseok sings. Jungkook looks at him with wide eyes, biting the inside of his cheek because he kind of wants to scream and that would definitely be unprofessional. “I’ll trust you for now.”
“Really?” His heart races just a little.
The older man rests his chin on his palm. “Why not? You seem like a trustworthy kid. Am I wrong?”
“No, sir!” Jungkook rushes to assure him, too loud and too excited. “I’m so nice! The nicest.”
Hoseok hums at him. “Perfect. I like nice guys the most.”
Jungkook chokes on his own spit.
Interviewed: nailed.
--
Jungkook counts under his breath, one one thousand, two one thousand, three—
“What are you doing?”
Jungkook jerks, sloshing water onto the table. “Fuck! Hyung, you scared me.” He sets down the bottle and clutches his chest.
Yoongi throws him a kitchen towel to sop up the water on the counter, setting his bag on the table. “Whoops.” He doesn’t seem apologetic. He picks up the bottle and stares at it. “Please tell me you didn’t spill shitty alcohol all over my counter tops.”
“It’s water,” Jungkook mumbles, wringing out the cloth in the sink while Yoongi sniffs the nozzle. “I’m practicing.”
Hoseok had given him an empty bottle of whatever and told him to practice pouring until he could do it right consistently. Jungkook can do that, now (at least when Yoongi doesn't come in and ruin everything) but he keeps trying and practicing because it needs to be perfect, probably, so that Hoseok will smile and tell him he did a good job.
He's working on speed pouring, several cups lined up on the counter, meticulously measuring each cup in the shot glass when he's done. He's pretty good at it now. He kicked shots in the ass. He's their king.
Even though Hoseok hasn't really told him what he has to know yet, Jungkook has been looking up drinks for the past 24 hours, ever since he got home from the Blue Shell. Well, after he gamed a little and then slept, but first thing in the morning he was on the Internet.
Yoongi looks at the list of cocktails that Jungkook has printed out and put on the counter. "What is this? Did Hoseok give you this?"
"Nope," Jungkook says, pouring down the row again. "I just thought I should know a few."
"This is like, 20." Yoongi squints at it. "Jungkook-ah, this isn't a nightclub. If you know how to make ten drinks you're probably fine."
Jungkook mumbles again, pouring water from a cup into the shot glass with intense focus.
Yoongi raises an eyebrow. "What was that?"
"I don't want to be just fine," Jungkook says, a little louder, cheeks red.
"Aww," Yoongi coos, setting the paper down and pinching Jungkook's cheek like an overly affectionate grandmother. "You're blushing."
"Hyung," Jungkook whines, jerking his cheek out of Yoongi's grip. "Now my face is sore."
"I'll be more gentle next time," his hyung says, patting Jungkook's head.
Jungkook mimes throwing a cup at him. Yoongi doesn't even flinch anymore.
Honestly, he needs to stop bluffing or else Yoongi is going to walk all over him for the rest of time. It's been six years of Yoongi teasing him. When will it stop? Enough is enough.
"Although," Yoongi calls casually, going through his mail. "If you like things gentle, you might want to look elsewhere."
Look elsewhere? Internally, Jungkook is panicking. He looks at Yoongi, eyes wide. "Hyung, are you telling me to move out?"
For a second, Yoongi just stares at him. "What? No. Not me! I mean Hoseok."
"What about him?”
“Gentle isn’t the word I would use for him.” Yoongi rifles through the fridge absently. “Not in any way or form.”
Jungkook focuses on setting the cups in the straightest line possible, staring holes into the foggy glass. “I think Hoseok-hyung seems gentle enough.”
Yoongi pauses in his quest for food. Jungkook only knows this because it suddenly gets really quiet. He’s still focusing on his cups, not looking, but he can feel how sharply Yoongi is staring into the side of his face. "Not ssi?"
"He told me to call him hyung," Jungkook tells him stiffly, because it's true, and Jungkook is probably happy about it but he's not really sure why. "Right before I left."
"And he gave you a job?"
"Sort of." Hoseok had given Jungkook his card, told him to come in during the slow hours and Hoseok would teach him, but as far as Jungkook knows he isn't going to get paid for his time. He's not actually a bartender, just a student.
A part of Jungkook is pretty happy with this arrangement. He knows a little, more now than he did yesterday, but also he isn't sure if he's ready to be thrown into being the "friend sort of nice" without being completely confident in every other aspect.
So he's practicing.
It’s a little harder to practice being friendly when thinking about the last time a stranger tried to talk to him in an elevator, but it’s okay, he’ll get there.
Hoseok will help.
"Most people order one of like, four things at a bar like this," Yoongi says, tapping the paper sitting out on the counter, pulling Jungkook out of his own head. "And Hoseok will be there to tell you how to make them."
"I don't want to bother him."
"You being there is a bother," he answers, and it's not exactly harsh but Jungkook still winces. Yoongi pops the top of a can of soda. "There aren't any other steady bartenders because Hoseok usually prefers to work alone."
There's an incessant tapping, and it takes a second for Jungkook to realize that it's him nervously tapping the bottle against the edge of the counter. He stares at his hand, willing it to stop. "Why did he say he'd teach me then?" Jungkook may not be an actual bartender at the Blue Shell, but he's still going to be in Hoseok's space. He suddenly feels much more anxious.
Yoongi seems as calm as ever, taking a big drink and closing the door before making his way out of the kitchen. He reaches up, ruffling Jungkook's hair. "Guess he figured you were worth it."
If Jungkook's heart is beating a little faster as he returns to practicing, well, that's no one's business but his own.
—
"Rum and coke."
"Jiminie! Give him something harder!"
Jimin huffs, pouting. "But I don't want anything harder, I want a rum and coke."
The shorter waiter is standing by the bar, chin resting on his palm, looking a little sleepy as the night wears on, even as Taehyung seems to only become more awake with each second that passes. Jungkook figures that Taehyung is probably a Happy Drunk.
"But this is a test!" Taehyung insists, swinging his legs where he sits like an endearing, wildly overgrown child.
Jungkook sweats a little. "It is?"
Taehyung ignores him. "We've got to see if he's been practicing!" He squints at the shelves behind Jungkook. "I want..."
Jimin snorts. "TaeTae, you don't even drink."
"I could!"
"Not on the job," Hoseok says, coming out of the kitchen, wiping his hands off with a towel. Jungkook startles a little, slamming the glass he's holding down on the bar a little too hard in his surprise.
"I'm not on the job," Taehyung says quickly, almost nervously.
"Then why are you even here?" Hoseok throws the towel over his shoulder. He's wearing a blue button down today, no tie, since it's a Monday and there is barely anyone there that would care. It's nice, a nice blue. It looks good on him.
Jungkook clears his throat awkwardly.
Taehyung points to Jimin, who waves tiredly. "Jimin is working."
Hoseok snorts. "And you guys can't be apart even for a shift?"
"The apartment gets so lonely," he pouts. Taehyung throws an arm around Jimin, laying his head delicately on Jimin's shoulder. Jimin seems unfazed, almost bored, but Jungkook sees him adjust so that Taehyung is more comfortable, dipping his shoulder down the tiniest bit and leaning into the touch.
The two of them are also college students, friends since high school and so close that Jungkook can't ever see the space between them. Jungkook was surprised by how readily they opened themselves up, how friendly they were. Maybe too friendly. On the first night Jungkook spent with Hoseok at the bar, they introduced themselves as soon as he walked through the door, wet from a surprise downpour and so nervous he thought he might explode.
"Jiminie!" Taehyung had called, rubbing a reverent hand down Jungkook's bicep after an extremely enthusiastic hug. The brunette server popped his head out of the kitchen. "The two of you should arm-wrestle. Do you have abs?" he asked Jungkook.
“Um—”
"You can see them." Taehyung pressed the material of Jungkook's white shirt against his stomach.
"Taehyung, stop stroking people's abs," Jimin said with an eye roll.
"Who has abs?" as voice called, Hoseok's voice, and Jungkook scrambled to pull his clammy shirt away from his body.
"Not me," he said, right when Hoseok walked into the main room.
Hoseok had just looked at him, looked down where the fabric was sticking to Jungkook's skin again. Taehyung snickered behind his hand while Jungkook made the smooth transition from flustered to flushed.
"Do you walk here?" Hoseok asked after a moment.
"Yes, Hoseok-ssi."
"Hyung is fine," Hoseok says idly, making his way behind the bar. "I told you that last time, didn't I?"
"Yes, hyung." Jungkook smiled, suddenly a little more at ease.
Hoseok smiled back. “I'll lend you my umbrella if it's still raining when you leave."
It was still raining.
Jungkook still hasn't returned the umbrella.
He isn't sure why he's thinking about that as he pours Jimin's drink, counting a little under his breath out of habit. Hoseok told him he should stop doing that, now that he doesn't need to, but there's something reassuring about it.
He sets the finished drink in front of Jimin, hands not shaking at all, and Jimin is about to take it when Hoseok intercepts.
"Hey!" Jimin whines.
"No drinking on the job." Hoseok grins.
"There's no one here!" Jimin insists, which isn't exactly true, but the only person there is the old man who keeps putting money into the old jukebox and playing trot songs without looking at anyone else, and Jungkook really doesn't think that man would care if Jimin made better use of his time.
Hoseok ignores him.
Jungkook waits, holding his breath as Hoseok takes a drink. "How is it?" he asks.
Hoseok licks his lips. "It's good." He smacks his mouth a little bit, and Jungkook is extremely distressed to find out that Hoseok has dimples.
Dimples.
That's not fair at all.
"Excuse me, what?" Jungkook asks, dazed.
Jimin snorts, taking the drink away from Hoseok. "He said it was good, Jungkookie," he repeats, taking a sip.
"Jungkookie?" His heart might skip a beat.
"I didn't call you 'Jungkookie,'" the older man clarifies.
"Oh." Jungkook opens and closes the lid to the ice box. "You could call me that. If you wanted to."
Jimin chokes on his drink and Taehyung is sucking on his lips to keep from grinning, and Jungkook only knows that because he'd rather look at Taehyung than Hoseok, but it's fine, it's probably fine, that's a normal thing to say.
Probably.
Right before Jungkook grows so embarrassed that he rushes to take it back, Hoseok smiles. He can hear it in Hoseok's voice. "Okay, Jungkookie," he sings cutely in Jungkook's ear, clapping his hands on Jungkook's shoulders in that endearing, man-handling way that he has. "You can't take it back now. You're my Jungkookie forever."
Jungkook holds back a scream as Hoseok makes his way back to the kitchen. Taehyung reaches across the bar and stabs him in the chest with a long finger and Jungkook lets out all of the air he's been holding in his lungs.
Jimin laughs, somewhere between fond and mocking. "You're so gay."
Jungkook stares wildly out at no one. "I'm so gay."
Another trot song starts to play, a love song, and Jungkook feels like he's going to explode again, but it's not because of nerves.
He smiles to himself, ignoring Taehyung and Jimin cooing at him, and wipes down the counter.
--
Jungkook has mastered pouring and mixing and dancing around Hoseok, both literally and figuratively.
The thing he still can't quite get a handle on is the "friendly sort of nice" part.
This, however, is something that Hoseok has long since mastered.
He's a terrible flirt, and by terrible, Jungkook means that it's terrible for his heart because Hoseok knows exactly what he's doing at all times. He smiles charmingly at both men and women, reaping in compliments and numbers and tips. Luckily, all he really seems to care about is the tips, usually throwing the numbers away at the end of the night with all the used napkins and general garbage that ends up cluttering the bar.
Hoseok understands the importance of eye contact and small talk. Hoseok knows what to say to make someone feel comfortable. Hoseok is charming. Hoseok is collected. Hoseok is confident.
If Jungkook can even look a pretty girl in the eye he considers it a good day.
He's starting to try serving more customers, usually while Hoseok takes a break, or bar backing for Hoseok when it's busy. The slow transition from practicing when it's slow to helping when it's busy is a little bit like culture shock, less because the atmosphere is so different (it really is) and more because Hoseok is so different.
Hoseok Hoseok Hoseok.
Jungkook is really, really gay.
Every time Hoseok smiles at him, Jungkook wants to spew rainbows.
Jungkook wants to spew rainbows a lot.
He likes working with Hoseok better. It's calming, almost, a dance of being helpful and not getting in the way, and that's a good thing for Jungkook to focus on.
He's great at mixing.
Everything else is a struggle.
And by everything, he means everything.
Things he didn't even expect to be a struggle are a struggle.
The first time he sees someone buy Hoseok a drink, sees Hoseok wink and pour himself a shot, his heart drops a little bit. Not quite all the way into his stomach, just enough that he can feel it beating a little lower behind his ribs.
The fourth time he sees someone buy Hoseok a drink within one shift, Jungkook picks his heart back up, brushes it off, and carefully nudges it back into place. Because Hoseok accepts each one with the same smile, a different smile than the one he gives Jimin or Taehyung, a different smile than the one he gives Jungkook, and Jungkook is suddenly struggling a little less.
Struggling resumes the first time someone buys Jungkook a drink.
"As thanks," the girl says with a smile.
Jungkook does his best to look her in the eye (succeeds, even!) and smile back. He doesn't really feel like drinking, but he pours himself one anyway.
And another.
And another.
Which is probably a bad idea, because the room is spinning a little bit, but Hoseok always accepts the ones given to him, and Jungkook honestly isn't sure how to refuse.
The next time it happens (Jungkook has lost counts), he's grimacing while he pours himself another. His hand is a little wobbly. He spills a little when someone calls his name. "Jungkook!"
"Hmm?"
It's Taehyung, wiggling his way into the crowded bar. "Jungkook, are you okay?"
"Fine," he says, smiling like Hoseok taught him. He's fine. Probably. A little blurry. A little.
Taehyung tells Jimin to go get Hoseok from his break.
"No!" Jungkook says. "I'm fine!" His hand knocks over the half-full glass and he curses at it softly. "I made a mess."
"You're the mess."
"I'm kind of a mess," Jungkook agrees, mopping up the liquid before fumbling around for the cleaner so it doesn't get sticky.
"Jungkook?"
"Here!" Jungkook bangs his head on the underside of the bar trying to stand. He groans.
Someone grabs his hand and pulls him out from behind the bar. "What are you doing?" Hoseok asks, a little intense. His grips hurts almost but not quite.
"I'm a mess," Jungkook says certainly. He's never been more certain of anything in his entire life than he is of that fact that at this moment, and also probably a lot of other moments, Jeon Jungkook is a mess.
Hoseok drags him back into the kitchen. "You are," he sighs, a little softer.
The lights in the kitchen are much brighter than they are in the bar. Jungkook covers his eyes with both hands while his eyes adjust.
"Seokjin-hyung?" Hoseok calls. "I've got a mess for you."
There's a heavy sigh. "What did Taehyung do now?"
Jungkook peers out between the cracks in his fingers.
Seokjin is his boss boss, his mega-boss, the one who signs the paychecks he gets sometimes. They've talked a few times, but usually the one Jungkook deals with is Hoseok, and none of those times was Seokjin frowning quite so much.
"I'm the mess," Jungkook admits sadly, gripping Hoseok's arm too tightly.
"You are the mess," Seokjin agrees.
"There's a bit of a rush that I need to take care of," Hoseok says, still calm and collected. Jungkook likes that about him. Should he tell Hoseok that he likes that about him? Or is that too much?
Jungkook rests his head on the older man's shoulder instead.
Seokjin suddenly looks like he might laugh. Jungkook wonders what sort of face Hoseok is making. "Go ahead and take care of it," he answers. "I can take care of this mess in the meantime."
"Thank you, hyung." Hoseok sounds a little less calm. Jungkook pats his arm a little bit, trying to be comforting.
Seokjin snorts as Hoseok tries to disentangle himself from Jungkook's comfort. "Come here, Jungkook-ah."
Jungkook reluctantly let's go, accepting Seokjin's offered hand as he directs Jungkook towards a chair not far from the stove. Jungkook tries to catch a look at Hoseok's face as he leaves but all he sees is a little bit of red before the door swings shut.
Was that a blush?
Hoseok blushes?
That's so cute.
Jungkook is so gay.
"I'm so gay," Jungkook tells Seokjin firmly.
"Ah." Seokjin smiles.
Jungkook sighs contentedly, resting his head back against the wall. It's nice to be understood.
"What time does your shift end, Jungkookie?"
"Whenever I want it to," Jungkook answers. He's only here to help, he doesn't have a set schedule. "Should I leave? I can, if you want."
Seokjin frowns. "Don't you walk home?"
"Mhmm." Jungkook closes his eyes.
"You should probably wait then."
"For what?"
"Someone to take you home."
"That'd be nice," Jungkook hums. "Do you think I should call Yoongi-hyung?"
"Yoongi-hyung is in Daegu right now, remember?"
"Oh." Right. "Should I wait for him?"
"That's kind of a long drive."
"Right." He thinks. "Do you think Hoseok would take me home?"
"Hoseok?" Seokjin looks a little like he's going to laugh again. "He doesn't get off until late."
'I'll wait!" Jungkook rushes to assure him. "If it's for Hoseok, I'll wait."
Seokjin gently pats him on the head. "I'm sure you will."
"Do you think Hoseok would wait for me?"
"Hmm." Seokjin purses his lips. "Probably."
Jungkook closes his eyes. "Good."
He feels a hand in his hair and cracks an eye open. Seokjin is smiling at him. "Not sure why you're waiting, though."
"Scary," Jungkook mumbles. He watches as Seokjin returns to the stove, stirring whatever he's making. Jungkook hopes it's soup. Soup sounds really good right now.
Seokjin's laugh is loud and warm, high pitched and a little surprised. "Hoseok-ah?"
"Feelings." Jungkook smiles up at his boss, rubbing his neck lazily. "I'm so gay."
He isn't sure how much time passes, really, between that declaration and the next time Hoseok walks through the kitchen doors, but it's probably a while, because Hoseok looks just the slightest bit less calm and collected, and also Jungkook is pretty sure he fell asleep.
"Is the rush over?" Yeah, Jungkook definitely fell asleep because he's almost certain Seokjin was not cutting vegetables a second ago.
Hoseok nods. "I called in Namjoonie."
"Really?" Seokjin asks with a laugh. "How convenient. Jungkook said he'd wait for you to take him home."
"I..." He did say that. His head feels a little less blurry now that he's taken a nap. Everything is one hundred times more embarrassing and Jungkook kind of wishes he was more drunk. "I'm probably okay to walk home now."
"Too late," Hoseok says a little sharply, gathering his stuff. "I'm going to drive you home. You can't get out of it."
"Well..." Jungkook doesn't really have an answer to that. "Okay, then."
It's well into the night when Jungkook follows Hoseok out of the bar and into the parking lot. Namjoon got there fairly quickly, all smiles and dimples and waggling eyebrows when Hoseok told him he was leaving with Jungkook.
Jungkook doesn't know what that means (he probably knows what that means), but he's jittery when he slides into the passenger’s seat of Hoseok's car. He stares at his hands, clasped in his lap, as he tells the other man his address.
"It's not very professional to get drunk on the job, you know," is the first thing Hoseok says, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the mostly deserted street. Jungkook can't quite look him in the eye. His hands look nice on the wheel.
"I...yes." Jungkook swallows heavily. "No one has ever bought me a drink before while I was working, I wasn't sure..."
"You could have just said no."
"You never say no."
"I usually pour myself something other than alcohol," Hoseok says.
"Oh," is all Jungkook can think to say. They pull up to a stop light. It's still and quiet, but Jungkook feels buzzy and loud. "I didn't know that."
"I didn't tell you," Hoseok acquiesces. "I should have, probably."
"Probably."
"Probably." Hoseok's fingers beat rhythms into the steering wheel. "So it's probably my fault."
Jungkook shrugs, messing idly with his seat belt. "I could have said no."
Hoseok laughs, even though he suggested that mere moments ago. It's sounds a lot different coming out of Jungkook's mouth. "Have you ever said no to someone in your life?"
"Probably." Jungkook grins slowly. "Definitely, if you count my mom."
"Were you a rebel?" It's teasing. Comfortable. Warm.
Jungkook smiles tiredly out the window. "I mean, I snuck out as much as the next kid. Usually it was to the gas station for, like, soda and a candy bar.”
Hoseok aides his eyebrows. “Your poor parents. Whatever did they do with you?” He clicks his tongue like an old woman and even though Jungkook was never been in this moment before it still feels familiar, new and old and comforting like a blanket he's had for years, but there's also something buzzing right under his skin.
Jungkook just shakes his head fondly, eyes far away. “I miss them, sometimes. But Yoongi-hyung is a good hyung, so I don’t feel as lonely.”
There’s a quiet moment. Jungkook can feel Hoseok gathering his thoughts. “Do you get lonely often?”
“No,” Jungkook answers, turning his head and looking at Hoseok’s profile. He rests his cheek against the headrest, soft and sleepy. “Not so much, anymore.”
Hoseok’s thumb taps on the steering wheel, the only sign that Hoseok is thinking hard about something, probably about Jungkook, and Jungkook would give almost anything to know what it was.
But Jungkook doesn’t know what Hoseok thinks about him. All Jungkook knows is what he thinks, more specifically what he thinks about Hoseok, and he doesn’t know if anything will ever shift, but he’s sleepy and soft and looking at Hoseok tap his thumb incessantly, thinking so hard, and honestly?
Jungkook doesn’t want to think anymore.
“Hyung?”
“Hmm?” Tap tap tap. Jungkook watches Hoseok’s Adam’s apple as he hums.
“I like your hands,” he says.
Hoseok snorts, more out of surprise than anything else. “What?” Tap tap tap goes his thumb on the steering wheel, thinking thinking thinking.
“I like your hands,” Jungkook says plainly. “And I like that color blue you wear sometimes, that button down you wear on Monday’s when it’s casual and you don’t care how you look as much but you still look so good? And I like that even when bad things are happening you keep your cool and you handle it so well. I’m…” Jungkook isn’t like that. He has no cool. As they speak, he’s freaking out. But. He clears his throat. “I like the way you smile, but mostly I like the way you smile at me.”
He waits for a second, not because he expects Hoseok to answer but because he needs to pull himself together because the next words are the hardest ones and Jungkook needs to brace himself. He spent so long hyping himself up to go into the bar the first time. He’s already taken too long to hype himself up for this.
Deep breath.
“Hyung, I like you a lot.”
Hoseok stops tapping.
One heartbeat.
Two heartbeats.
Jungkook can hear each one roaring in his ears.
Hoseok is thinking loud and hard, looking out at the road. “Where is your house?” he asks, which isn’t the response that Jungkook was looking for, what hoping for.
“We passed it.”
“We did, didn’t we?” Hoseok bites his lip. “Jungkook-ah, you don’t know me that well.”
Jungkook groans heavily. “I know,” he whines, because he’s been thinking about this the entire time. “The only time I see you is at the bar, where you’re my boss! And it feels weird to ask you questions then, much less confess, and you never come over to our apartment, even though Yoongi-hyung invites you, I know he does.” He’s pouting, probably. “You’re making it very hard for me.”
“Jungk—”
“And it’s even worse,” Jungkook continues, because he has to get everything out right now or it won’t happen, “because what I do know about you is good. Great, even? Because you’re nice to everyone, and you’re smart, and you’re funny, and you go out of your way to make people smile because you know that everyone has bad days. And I’m not…” Jungkook tugs at his hair. “I’m not saying I’m, like, in love with you, because that’s a little much. But…”
“A date would be nice.” Is that an offer? Is Hoseok just finishing his sentence?
Jungkook blinks at him, swallows audibly. “A date would be nice.”
Hoseok takes a deep breath, forcibly relaxing his shoulders, and it’s only then that Jungkook even notices the other man has been tense the entire drive. He wants to smooth out the crease between Hoseok’s eyebrows with his fingers but probably not yet and probably not when Jungkook isn’t sure and definitely not while Hoseok is driving.
They pull up to a stop light. The road is empty. Quiet and intimate even though they’re in public, but the night has a way of making things feel closer than they are. Or maybe they really are close, more than just in distance. Jungkook feels like he’s close to something. He isn’t sure what it is.
“You want to go on a date?”
Jungkook’s fingers clench and unclench on the hems of his sleeves. He sets his jaw. “I would like to go on a date,” he says firmly. “With you. Specifically. Because I like you and I want to know if maybe I could like you more.”
And then Hoseok looks at him. Really looks at him, full-on, for the first time since they’ve gotten in the car maybe, and he smiles, and it’s soft, so bright and so warm and familiar but it’s something new, too.
In the corner of his eye, Jungkook sees the light turn green, but they don’t move.
Jungkook doesn’t want to move.
He wants to be here, right here. With Hoseok smiling at him, even though it’s so late and they’re in Hoseok’s beat up car and Jungkook is still a little drunk and it smells like alcohol and he’s only awake because of adrenaline and sheer will.
Despite all of that, Jungkook likes this moment the most.
“Okay, Jungkookie,” Hoseok sighs, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “I’ll give you one date.”
“Just one?”
Hoseok laughs, bright and happy, and a lot lighter than before, like something in his chest has finally settled and Jungkook hopes that that thing is him. That Jungkook might have a shot at settling there and making Hoseok laugh like that.
“Maybe more,” Hoseok says, easing the car out of the intersection. “But you have to earn the second one.”
“Am I not cute enough for two?” Even as he says it Jungkook’s cheeks turn red, but he chalks it up to being a little buzzed.
“Do you want two?”
“I want ten.”
“Always going above and beyond.” Hoseok sighs dramatically, and Jungkook can’t stop himself from grinning. “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe I can get you a discount.”
Hoseok’s hand is on the console. Jungkook links their pinkies together.
Together, they drive home.