Diamond Dollface // jikook

four

Jungkook followed Jimin out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, feeling small in every possible way. He couldn't describe the sadness he felt in knowing that he had disappointed his manager. Jungkook never spared any thoughts to disappointing people really, he used to, but it had become a recurring theme in these last years. He couldn't afford to take it personally any longer.

"Sit down wherever, I'll finish making breakfast," Jimin said quietly. Jungkook nodded, shuffling over to the living room. It was clearly a nice apartment, he knew the rent must cost a pretty penny. But it was cozy, small enough that Jungkook could still see him in the kitchen when he leaned over the back of the couch.

It was oddly domestic, Jungkook sitting in his boxers watching Jimin make them breakfast. He wasn't in a button-up and slacks this time. His business-casual look was traded in for a cream-colored sweater and a pair of light wash jeans. Jungkook even noticed the way his brows furrowed when his sleeves slipped past his busy hands. He'd push the fabric back up to his elbows and get back to cooking, a sizzling sound filling the room.

Soon enough Jungkook was served a classic American breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice. It was plated to perfection and Jungkook instantly rose to go sit at the dining table only to have Jimin shake his head and sit across from him on the same couch.

"Thank you," Jungkook whispered softly, head down as he took a bite of the toast. Instantly his stomach growled, the taste of jam enough to bring out the starving man inside of him.

Jimin doesn't reply to his thanks. Instead, he says, "When did you get your first one?"

Jungkook looked up to see where Jimin was nodding in the direction of his tattooed arm, the rockstar grinned sheepishly and pointed to a patchy, faded music note on his torso. "This was actually my first. Yoongi gave me a stick n' poke on Seokjin's kitchen floor. I think I was eighteen."

"Eighteen? Why didn't you go get it professionally done then?"

Jungkook shrugged, shoveling the scrambled eggs into his mouth. "We were broke."

Jimin nodded at this, unphased by the crassness of the sentence. He looked down to where Jungkook had already eaten over half the plate, raising his brow. "You're awfully quiet this morning. No sarcasm? No rude comments about my cooking?"

"After last night I figured that wouldn't be a good idea."

"Jungkook, I said that I wasn't angry with you," Jimin said with furrowed brows. "You're not in trouble."

"But I fucked up, you always have some way of dealing with me after."

"You want consequences?" Jimin asked slowly, and with disbelief. The frank sentence was enough to make Jungkook flush and look away.

"If that means you stop being weird. Making my breakfast, and saying you're not angry with me, it's not like you."

"Jungkook," Jimin breathed out, gathering the younger man's attention. He looked baffled by his words. "I don't think you realize how..wrong last night was. Sure you made a mistake by not staying sober, but you could have been severely traumatized. I'm not going to 'punish' you when you were in danger not even twelve hours ago."

"I wasn't in danger." Jungkook rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his orange juice. "I would have joined them even if I was sober, it was consensual."

"But you weren't sober," Jimin argued instantly. "Would and could do not matter in this situation. What matters is what happened. And from the way I saw things you could barely keep your head up, and no one in that room gave a fuck. That is not okay."