Chapter Text
“Jin! JIN!”
Jin awoke with a start.
“Sorry,” Yoongi said, grimacing. “You made me promise to wake you before I left this morning.”
Jin took a moment to try and remember where he was, let alone what year it was. Looking around, he realized he’d fallen asleep on the couch last night, yet again. Yoongi worked overtime last night, yet again. The mess from his baking yesterday was piled up in the kitchen sink, yet again. Great.
“Do I have a few minutes to clean up,” he asked Yoongi sheepishly. “I’ll make us coffee.”
“Already done,” Yoongi said, handing Jin a full to-go mug.
Jin deflated, hanging his head mournfully.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Falling asleep before I came home at 1 a.m. and not making morning coffee? Don’t be,” Yoongi said, ruffling his fingers through Jin’s sleep hair.
“I’m sorry I left a mess,” Jin said, gesturing to the kitchen.
“Don’t worry about it,” Yoongi said, smiling softly. “It looks like you have something ready for taste testing today?”
Jin extracted himself layer by layer from his blanket cocoon, shuffling into the kitchen. He surveyed the mess in front of him, the sifted cocoa powder on the kitchen island, the four different types of chili powder still open with their measuring spoons next to them. His eyes landed on the open, empty carton of eggs. He’d used up the last dozen eggs he’d been able to find in any grocery store in central Los Angeles on this new recipe. I hope at least one of his coworkers likes these , he thought.
The only thing keeping Jin going in the six weeks since losing his job was testing out new baking recipes and forcing them upon Yoongi’s ER coworkers.
“Want One?” Jin asked Yoongi.
He packed up the Mexican Hot Chocolate Snickerdoodle cookie sandwiches into a Tupperware container, layering wax paper between the stacks of slightly different variations of his new recipe.
Yoongi shook his head no. “I feel bad limiting you to sending dessert with me two days a week. I’ll let as many nurses as possible taste test them for you.”
Another five minutes and he and Yoongi were out the door into the cold January morning, Yoongi in his hospital scrubs, Jin in the same sweatshirt and joggers he’d slept in. A content, chipper Min Holly at the other end of a leash Jin held was the only member of the family prepared to face the day.
“What are you up to today,” Yoongi asked Jin.
Jin dreaded the moment Yoongi asked him this question every morning. He burned with shame when he thought about how he passed his days, either staring into the abyss while mindlessly watching TV or working himself into a frenzy while baking. He suspected Yoongi knew without Jin admitting the true degree of his dysfunction.
Today, however, he had a real event on his calendar.
“I’m supposed to meet with Mrs. Cheol on the first floor,” Jin said. “She texted me last week about making her twins’ birthday cake again this year.”
Jin created an elaborate twin cake tower last year for their birthday. He had been more interested in the fun he had decorating at the time than the sizable Venmo payment Mrs. Cheol had sent him. This year, he needed that Venmo payment.
“I’ll try and check in if the ER doesn’t get too crazy,” Yoongi said.
Four city blocks later in the grey, early morning light, they arrived at the car, both shivering. Jin extracted the precariously balanced Tupperware from his non-Holly hand.
“Let me know what people think of the cookies,” Jin told Yoongi, setting the Tupperware on the car roof above the driver’s door. “Version two on the top layer probably tastes the best.”
Yoongi nodded in acknowledgment, closing his eyes and standing still for a moment before pulling the driver’s door open.
“Are you sure you’re awake enough to drive to work?” Jin asked.
“Are you sure you’re awake enough to drive to work?” Jin asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” Yoongi said, slowly opening his eyes.
“Hey,” Yoongi said, pointing to the store behind Jin on the sidewalk. “They have eggs. You should grab a couple dozen while you can.”
Jin’s mind snapped awake, his eyes darting where Yoongi pointed.
“EGGS! Yoongi, you genius!” Jin yelled, squeezing Yoongi’s cheeks between his hands.
“All I did was open my eyes,” Yoongi muttered, waiting for Jin to stop squeezing him like a dumpling before climbing in to the driver’s seat.
“And found eggs! The only eggs I’ve seen in stores in a week! What a morning. This is a sign of things to come, Yoongi!” Jin yelled, tugging Holly away from his other dad and toward the store. “I’m going to be able to make an absurdly huge birthday cake.”
Yoongi shook his head in fond dismay at Jin, shutting the car door.
Jin was almost to the store’s entrance when he heard a crack. He turned around.
Where their car had just been parked, now laid his Tupperware container, cracked open, with a few of his cookies spilled out onto the pavement. Yoongi had forgotten them on the car roof.
Jin stared agape at the pavement cookies for a moment. Holly pulled at his leash toward the cracked container, looking back at Jin.
Jin walked toward the pavement to try and save some of the cookies still secured in the non-cracked portion of the Tupperware. As he was about to step off the curb, a car turned the corner and pulled right into the spot. And over the Tupperware container.
Crack.
The car’s left rear tire pulled forward over the remaining salvageable cookies, smushing them into a flat pancake on the pavement.
“Did you not look—“ Jin started as the driver got out. A lean, muscular man younger than him climbed out of the car, staring at Jin wide-eyed.
“What was that noise?” The driver asked, grimacing.
“My Tupperware container,” Jin said, deflating. “And four dozen cookies I spent all yesterday baking.”
“Oh my god, I am sooooo sorr—,” the driver starts. “Wait, no, I am not sorry because I am not legally at fault for anything and oh god our car insurance can’t increase anymore—“
“It was a Tupperware,” Jin said, dejected. “I’m not calling an insurance company. It was only valuable to me.”
“I, uh, I am really sorry, but I am kind of in a rush, and I have to run into the store before dropping my husband off for work,” the driver said. “Is, um, is there anything I can do?”
Jin shook his head no, fighting back tears.
“Okay then,” the driver said, walking toward the store. “If you’re sure?”
Jin turned toward the sky in despair, closing his eyes as he felt a tear trickle down the side of his cheek. His most promising recipe, one of the only things he had to look forward to that week, was now under the driver’s car tire. None of Yoongi’s fellow ER residents or nurses would taste them, feel the tingle of chili perfectly balanced with the nuttiness of chocolate and the warmth of cinnamon. He had no feedback to look forward to Yoongi relaying when he came home later that night. The dim, grey veil of depression slipped back over his mind, clouding what had ever so briefly been shaping up to be one of his better days since he lost his job.
He opened his eyes again, wiping his cheek. He was still standing on this stupid sidewalk, on this stupidly cold and wet morning, at a stupidly early hour. Might as well go buy some eggs. He needed them for the birthday cake. Maybe he’d find the energy to try this recipe again. Eventually. The thought exhausted him.
He gathered what energy he could find to walk into the store and up to the display that, just a minute ago, had contained several cartons of eggs. Jin was met with empty, brightly lit shelves. Turning toward the register, he saw the driver one-arm carrying a heavy box, arm muscles bulging with the weight of its contents, walking up to the store owner. Jin walked toward them.
“Good morning, I just saw that you had eggs for sale in the window,” Jin said to the store owner. “Do you keep them in the back? I wanted to buy a couple dozen.”
The driver nervously glanced down into the box in his arms.
“We have no more eggs,” the store owner said.
“But you JUST had a full shelf of eggs!” Jin protested. “I saw them, I JUST saw them!”
“We have no more eggs,” the store owner repeated, stone faced.
“I could—“ the driver starts.
“No, Jungkook-ah, we have no more eggs for today,” the store owner said to the driver, sweeping a stack of cash off the counter and into his pocket.
Jin looked from the store owner’s pocket to the driver, apparently named Jungkook.
“Mr. Byun lets me buy unlimited eggs,” Jungkook said sheepishly.
“Let me get this straight,” Jin snapped. “You—“ he points to the store owner, “—are running an off-the-books, all-you-can-buy egg racket during a nationwide egg shortage.”
“And you—“ he points to Jungkook “—just happen to be here two minutes after opening to buy the eggs restocked this morning.”
Jungkook made eye contact with the floor. “Mr. Byun has known me since I was seven. I’m his favorite customer.”
“And you need TEN DOZEN eggs?” Jin shouted.
“Look I know it’s a lot, but I really do use this many eggs.” Jungkook said. “I’m a baker. I have a huge order for next week and I have no way to fill it without these eggs.”
He paused to do mental math. “I could let you have a dozen?”
“ One dozen? Out of ten? Oh, how generous of you,” Jin sneered.
“Hey!” Mr. Byun yelled, jabbing his finger toward Jin. “You insulted my best customer. You don’t get eggs now. Or ever! Go!”
Jin stared incredulously at Mr. Byun. “You’re kicking me out of your store?”
Mr. Byun quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket and snapped a photo of Jin. He pointed to a row of mugshots hanging behind the counter.
“These are customers banned from the store,” Mr. Byun said. ‘Your face? It goes here now.”
Mr. Byun came out from around the counter, ushering Jin toward the exit. “Goodbye, thank you, do not come again.”
Holly snarled at Mr. Byun, and Jin had to tug on Holly’s leash to get him to leave the store.
“I HOPE KARMA BITES YOU IN THE ASS“ Jin yelled, before the store door slammed in his face, leaving him outside in the cold.
Jin took a deep breath. He shouldn’t be flying off the handle at an elderly store owner at 7 a.m., no matter how insane he was.
Jungkook walked out the store carrying his box of eggs.
“Goodbye, Jungkook-ah,” Mr. Byun called from the entrance. “Abeoji will call you when I get my next shipment.”
Jin glared at the driver.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Jungkook said. “Mr. Byun gets really protective of me.”
Jungkook handed Jin a paper bag. “Please, take these,” Jungkook said. “It’s the least I can do.”
Jin hesitated. He didn’t want pity from a stranger. But he wasn’t in a position to reject it. Holly made the decision for him. He walked up to Jungkook and sat at his feet, looking up expectantly with a cocked head. Jungkook set his box of eggs down to scratch Holly’s ears.
“He’s a very good boy,” Jungkook said, voice near a whisper. “I’m really sorry. Please, just take this dozen. It’s on me. I ruined your Tupperware.”
Jin forced himself to think about the empty egg tray in his refrigerator and Mrs. Cheol’s cake commission. He met Jungkook’s pleading eyes and nodded, wordlessly reaching for the bag.
While he waited for the light to turn green at the next intersection, Jin turned to Holly.
“Holly,” he said. “Please don’t follow your father’s example of snarling in public.”
Holly huffed.
*****
“Hi Mrs. Cheol,” Jin said, picking up on the second ring, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. She called Jin back three hours and twenty-seven minutes after she didn’t answer her front door for their front meeting. Not that Jin was counting. Not that he hadn’t been camped in front of her front door for an hour.
“I was just checking for a text from you,” he said. “I have some great ideas for the twins’ cake this year, but I’d love to hear any specific requests they have.”
“Listen, Jin, I’m sorry to do this, but we’re going in a different direction this year,” Mrs. Cheol said.
Jin froze.
“What?”
“Look, I know it’s last minute, but the twins made cookies with a last-minute babysitter I hired and they are insistent the sitter makes their cake,” she said.
Tears pricked at Jin’s eyes.
“Oh.”
“I have to run, but I’ll let you know if I have any other baking needs come up.”
Yeah right.
“Of course. Thank you.” Jin’s voice wobbled precariously.
Jin dropped his phone on the counter and buried his head in his hands, letting the tears flow. He felt any remaining hope he had for the day come crashing down around him.
Later that afternoon, he awoke on the couch to see sunlight fading through the window. He promised Yoongi he would leave the apartment once during daylight each day. After a cold dusk walk to buy a 7-11 blue raspberry Slurpee the size of his head, Jin re-entered his apartment’s front lobby, and was confronted with none other than Kim Taehyung, the building’s new HOA president. On a good day, the last person Jin wanted to see was the leader of an organization whose existence Jin strongly objected to, and he was pretty sure the state of California and the federal government should legally object to. The same organization that just raised his and Yoongi’s monthly maintenance fees by $84 (or, five dozen eggs in this economy).
Before Jin could dart around the corner and out of view, the president spotted him.
“Jin-ssi! Hey! Long time no see! How are you?” Taehyung asked.
Jin glowered at him, not removing his Slurpee straw from his mouth.
“Listen, I was actually about to go knock on your front door,” Taehyung said.
Jin glowered at him.
“We’ve already paid the updated monthly fee for January,” Jin said, speaking around his straw. “So you don’t need to knock on our door like this is a debtor’s prison.”
“Those idiots,” Taehyung said, rolling his eyes, “raised those fees last year, before I took over the board, and I’m pretty sure that fee raise violated the bylaws that same board wrote.”
“So no,” he continued, smiling brightly. “I don’t care about your fees. I actually wanted to personally invite you to our first annual Valentine’s Day Bake Off.”
Taehyung extended a flier to Jin, who stared at it but kept his hands glued to his styrofoam Slurpee cup.
“You’re apartment 3N, right? I can smell you baking all the time. I’m really hoping you’ll participate.”
Jin continued glaring.
“Right,” Taehyung said, smile deflating a little bit. “Will you at least think about it? I’d love to be able to taste one of your creations.”
Jin possessed zero ounces of energy to be polite.
“No. No offense, but I hate the HOA. And the price of eggs and flour and butter and everything is almost out of our grocery budget as-is. So, no. Sorry.”
Taehyung bit his lip, grimacing.
“Well, um, that’s totally understandable you feel that way about the HOA. I hated them, too. That’s part of why I ran for president. But, uh, anyway. The winning prize for the bake-off is a free ground level parking garage spot for a year.”
Jin’s eyes snapped up. He dropped his straw from his mouth.
“What?”
“Yeah!” Taehyung said, eyes lighting up. “You know the spots right inside the garage that say reserved? It’s one of those.”
“Free?” Jin asked.
Taehyung nodded.
“For an entire year? One entire calendar year?”
Taehyung nodded.
Jin thought for a moment.
“Where do I sign up?”
Taehyung broke into a beaming smile.
“I’ll put your name down, Jin-ssi.”
Jin stepped into the vacant elevator.
“Are you going up, Taehyung-ssi?”
“You can call me Taehyung-ah! And no, I was just heading out. Have a great day!”
The elevator doors closed. Jin does not see Taehyung grinning to himself while checking a box next to Jin’s name in his phone.
Upstairs, Jin pulled up his and Yoongi’s budget and calculated exactly how much he could spend on extra baking ingredients. Moving to the kitchen cabinet devoted to his stockpiled ingredients and spices, his eyes found a jar of preserved lemons he made from a summer farmer’s market haul. An idea began to form.
Later that night, Yoongi came home to Jin asleep on the couch, yet again. But tonight, the kitchen sink smelled of disinfecting spray, with not a dirty dish in sight. Sketched cookie designs littered the coffee table in front of Jin, his baking notebook buried underneath them. Yoongi gently pulled Jin’s glasses from his face and led him to their bed.
*****
“I’m so sorry about the cookies yesterday,” Yoongi said as he poured coffee into Jin’s “\world’s second greatest dad dog” mug the next morning.
Jin nodded, smiling ruefully. “I know it was an accident. It just…it feels like baking is all I have right now, you know? I can’t keep up with the dishes or household chores. You’re working 70 hours a week and I’m sitting around unemployed and useless.”
Yoongi set the coffee pot down.
“We’ve talked about this, Jin-ah,” he said, looking at Jin sternly. “You’re not useless because your company decided to lay you off.”
“According to them, they fired me for poor performance.”
“Well, they can go fuck themselves,” Yoongi said, exasperated.
“Yoongi. You come home from work and everything is a mess and I’m a mess and all I can do is keep Holly alive and sometimes feed myself.”
“The kitchen isn’t a mess today,” Yoongi said. “Jin, you’re depressed. This is all normal. I just want you to try and help yourself when you can.”
Jin fixed his gaze on his coffee.
“Jin, I got another parking ticket last week,” Yoongi said. “I had to park really far away that night I worked a double shift and I didn’t see the street cleaning signs.”
Jin felt his stomach sink.
“Okay,” he said. “How much is it?”
“I paid it from our emergency savings,” Yoongi said. “It doesn’t need to come out of our spending money for this month. I just felt like I should tell you.”
“Yoongi, you don’t have to do that. I can cut back on my baking budget this month.”
“No,” Yoongi said, firmly. “Like you said, it’s the only thing that brings you joy. My ticket was $200, that’s not going to make or break our emergency fund, especially with how bad inflation is.”
Jin opened his mouth to protest.
“Jin, we’re in the home stretch of my residency. And then I make real money. We just have to make it to July, okay? We’ll be okay with $200 less dollars.”
Jin nodded. He rested his head on Yoongi’s shoulder and closed his eyes for a moment. He sent the universe a silent thank you — his husband had enough patience for the both of them when they needed it.
“I’ll drop you off today,” Jin said. “I want to swing by the store and stock up on a few things.”
*****
A few days later, Jin slid a sheet of shortbread dough into the refrigerator as Yoongi yelled from the kitchen table.
“What do you mean we can’t go out for noodles because you’re going to the HOA meeting ?” Yoongi shouted. “The HOA? The same organization run by the 76-year-old man who screamed at me for, and I quote, ‘bringing a loose life of sin to this building’ when I got home from work at 2:30 a.m. on Thanksgiving?”
Jin nodded.
“Yes, Yoongi, that very same HOA. But there’s that new president, he’s younger than us, and he—“
“Jin, I suggested you make more friends, not fraternize with the HOA president.”
“—if I could finish— ”
Yoongi glared at Jin.
“Taehyung asked me to enter the building’s Valentine’s Day baking competition. The kick-off during this month’s HOA board meeting.”
Yoongi admitted defeat. “Takeout noodles, then.”
The takeout noodles didn’t arrive before the HOA meeting’s start time. Yoongi begrudgingly accompanied Jin, trying not to complain about the soggy, bloated noodles that would be waiting for them after the meeting.
Jin and Yoongi slipped into the meeting room and sat in the very last row.
“Everyone here is ancient,” Yoongi whispered to Jin, gesturing at the elderly apartment owners queuing up to secure their spots for residents’ public comment, excited for a captive audience to hear their complaints about the most minor of minutiae.
“Respect your elders, Yoongi. Besides,” Jin said, gesturing to attendees in the rows closer to them, “there are some younger—“
“Yoongi-hyung! Hi!”
“Namjoon-ah?” Yoongi greeted the man. “I didn’t realize you lived in this building.”
“Yeah, we just moved in last month,” Namjoon said. “My husband is friends with the new HOA president who told us about an open unit before it went on the market.”
“Don’t let any of the ahjummas and abeojis hear you say that,” Yoongi said. “They’re very prickly about the youth renters moving into this building.”
“Of course they are,” Namjoon chuckled, rolling his eyes. “But it’s great to know you live here, we should carpool when we’re on the same shifts.”
“Same shifts?” Jin asked.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I’m Namjoon. Yoongi is my head resident physician. You must be Jin, right? I’ve eaten so many of your baked goods, you’re really talented.”
“Aish, thank you,” Jin said. “I’m just an amateur.”
At that moment, another man walked up to Namjoon, snaking an arm around his waist.
“No, you’re really, not,” Namjoon said, laying an arm on the man’s shoulder. “My husband here went to—“
“Yeobo, are you making friends already?” The man hurriedly interjected.
Jungkook?! Jin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“This is my head resident Yoongi-hyung and his husband Jin. Yoongi-hyung and Jin, this is my husband Jungkook.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jungkook said, turning to Yoongi. “Yoongi-ssi, Namjoon loves working for you, he won’t stop talking about the night you let him help you administer that new toxicology treatment.”
“And Jin-ssi! I didn’t get your name the other morning,” Jungkook said.
“Jin-hyung is fine,” Jin said quietly. Jungkook recounted the story of how they met, leaving out the part where he ran over Jin’s Tupperware. And the part where Jin’s mugshot ended up on Mr. Byun’s banned customer wall of shame. Jin offered only a well-timed smile here and there and was flooded with relief when the conversation moved on.
“I’m so happy we’re off midnights for a while, hyung,” Namjoon said. “Although I think Jungkook might be even happier than I am to have me home at night.”
“But the midnight nurses gave the best feedback on the cupcakes I send in with you,” Jungkook said, lower lip jutting out in a small pout. “Who will help me finalize my lavender to honey ratio in my new recipe?”
“Babe, I’ve told you I will gladly help you taste test.”
“You just tell me everything I make is the best,” Jungkook whined. “That’s not helpful!”
“You bake for the ER department too?”
Three pairs of eyes turned to Jin.
“Yeah! I’m really trying to finalize this recipe, I’ve sent in, what, five batches this week?” Jungkook said.
Jin turned to Yoongi and spoke in a measured tone.
“I thought you said the nurses requested fewer baked goods be brought into the ER, Yoongi.”
Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged a glance.
“Between you and Jungkook, there’s so many baked goods coming in,” Yoongi said. “And we love them, we all do, Jin-ah. But the night last week you sent in your orange biscotti and your nut bars, Namjoon also brought in Jungkook’s mini cakes and homemade candy.”
“The charge nurse I’m terrified of saw the staff lounge table covered in dessert and cornered me,” Namjoon chimed in. “She told me Yoongi and I had to work out a baked goods schedule.”
“So you’re the reason I can’t finalize this lavender honey cake recipe for my client,” Jungkook said to Jin jokingly. “Hey! Maybe you could taste test them for me? Namjoon says you’re a great baker.”
“You sent in five batches and you’re still not done—“
Jin was saved by a gavel banging loudly at the front of the room. Namjoon and Jungkook took seats further down the row.
“I call the first HOA meeting of calendar year 2023 and the lunar year of the water rabbit to order,” Taehyung’s voice called from the front of the room. “Good evening, esteemed residents.”
He bowed deeply at the elderly residents sitting in the front row. An old man sitting next to Taehyung, arms folded across his chest, rolled his eyes.
“There’s no need for such theatrics, son,” he said.
Taehyung ignored him, solemnly carrying on with his opening meeting duties.
“Residents, we have an amazing turnout tonight, and I hope you’ll stay to the end for a special treat.”
Yoongi and Jin eyed each other. There went their plans to cut out early. As the meeting went on, they found themselves mildly entertained. Taehyung addressed each resident’s public statement — even the one who complained about ghosts in the fourth floor hallway — with indefatigable optimism.
“I’ll request a few mediums to submit quotes for paranormal inspection,” Taehyung assured the elderly woman.
The HOA board member sitting next to Taehyung tipped from seething, silent rage, to leaning into the microphone “This is ridiculous —“
“I would like to remind all HOA board members they are bound by the new board member conduct rules package,” Taehyung said.
“I don’t acknowledge your rules packet—“
Taehyung banged his gavel.
“Next order of business! And the reason I suspect we have some new faces attending our meeting tonight.” Taehyung made eye contact with Jin and smiled brightly.
“The HOA is pleased to announce—“
“ You are pleased to announce—“ the feisty board member cut in.
“A Valentine’s Day baking competition for all residents of the complex!”
Taehyung projected a PowerPoint slide detailing the timeline and rules. Two personified cookies hugged in the bottom left corner of the slide.
“The competition will consist of two rounds. The first round will be the technical challenge, consisting of both a cookie and a cupcake for submission to the judging panel, your wonderful HOA.”
“I have diabetes —“ the board member said.
“Our new resident Kim Namjoon has helpfully volunteered to provide insulin and glucose monitor readings free of charge at both tasting events,” Taehyung said.
The board member deflated, realizing he would not win a single fight against Taehyung that night.
“The final round on Sunday, February 12, will consist of a pastry submission and a live cake decorating competition,” Taehyung continued on, pointing to the slide. “Contestants will submit their first round creations in two weeks at a tasting event in this room. This is an elimination competition, and three residents will move forward to the final round.”
“Residents, your HOA board looks forward to tasting your creativity and seeing your talent in action!”
Taehyung adjourned the meeting and made his way to the audience, hastily bowing to the board before making his way toward the back audience rows.
“Jin-ssi! Jungkook-ah!” Taehyung called, before Jin could make a plan to extract himself from a second conversation involving Jungkook that night. “I’m so glad I caught you two!”
He walked down the row of seats to position himself between the two couples.
“You two are our complex’s star barkers,” Taehyung said, grinning. “I’m so excited to have you both on board.”
“How do you know we’re the star bakers in this complex,” Jin asked, skeptical.
“Oh, you can smell everything that everyone in this building makes,” Taehyung said. “Sometimes I just wander the halls at night and smell what people are up to. You two? You have the best- smelling hallways.”
Jin nodded, not sure whether to be flattered or creeped out. He decided to be flattered — he needed the reassurance in his life.
“I suppose you being a judge means you can’t stop by for afternoon cookies anymore, Tae-ah” Jungkook said, teasingly. “I’ll just have to think of other ways to win over your tastebuds.”
Jin glared at Taehyung and Jungkook hugging each other goodbye as the two couples headed out of the room.
“Jungkook and I want to invite you over for dinner next week,” Namjoon said.
“Yeah!” Jungkook said, eyes widening eagerly. “I just finished a new recipe for garlic confit baked chicken.”
“I’m allergic to garlic,” Jin said, deadpanned.
“Oh! That’s totally okay,” Jungkook said, pausing to think for a moment. “I also have a great recipe for pecan-crusted chicken that I’m finishing up. You could be my taste tester!”
“How are you affording enough pecans in this economy to taste test an entire pecan-crusted chicken?” Jin asked.
He felt Yoongi’s sharp elbow ram his side.
“We’d love to, Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi said. “I’ll check Jin’s calendar with mine and confirm tomorrow at work?”
In the elevator alone together, Jin fixed his gaze on the third floor button, avoiding Yoongi’s attempts to catch his eye.
“I think a low-effort social event might help you,” Yoongi said. “It’s just a walk up a flight of stairs. You can go in your slippers if you want.”
Jin nodded, not moving his eyes from the elevator button. He knew he was being a bit of an ass to Yoongi, the last person in the world who deserved that treatment from him.
“Okay,” Jin said. “I’ll go.”
Yoongi nodded. He brushed his hand against Jin’s. Jin caught it and squeezed back.
“Thank you,” Jin said, softly.
Later that night, when Jin couldn’t sleep, he pulled out his recipe notebook and turned to a blank page. He listed the thoughts whirring through his head:
- Jungkook was a good enough baker to have nine dozen eggs worth of commissions
- Namjoon had tasted every recipe Jin sent to Yoongi’s hospital for taste testing
- Namjoon could tell Jungkook about every recipe Jin had sent to the hospital for taste testing
- Jungkook was close personal friends with head judge Taehyung
- Jungkook was allowed to send baked goods to the hospital five days last week. Jin was limited to two days per week.
- Jin needed to save up a week of social energy to attend a dinner party with his new arch nemesis
Jin stared at the list. He threw his pen down, walked over to the cabinet, and pulled down a small tumbler and Yoongi’s bottle of whiskey. He didn’t care that he had been avoiding alcohol during his depressive episode. He needed it — this was going to be a very long two weeks until competition.