Can't Be Without You | Jungkook

Part 1

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"You always come running when I call, Kook. Why?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Doesn't it get tiring?"

"It does."

"So why do you still do it?"

"I'll lose you if I don't. And I can't lose you."

##

"What's on for tonight?" Jungkook asks as he hands you the bowl of bibimbap he's prepared for you.

He disappears into the kitchen before you can reply and he returns with a plate of haemul pajeon, earning him your beaming smile reserved only for his special-made pancakes. He knows just the right crunch and just the right softness the way you like it, putting in more clams than squid, and complementing it with his "secret" sauce, which isn't really a secret because you've seen him prepare it a thousand times.

"What A Girl Wants," you answer him, digging into your rice bowl and then stuffing two squares of pancake in your mouth. "The best Amanda Bynes movie ever."

He cocks an eyebrow, as he settles in the seat next to you. "You said it was 'She's the Man.'"

"Yeah, when I had a Channing Tatum phase. Now I don't," you say in between mouthfuls of food, eyes closed as you savor the taste of both dishes.

He watches you in amusement as if it's the first time he's witnessing you gobble up his cooking.

Except it isn't. This is a weekly occurrence - twice a week, in fact, to make up for the years we were apart, you'd said.

"What happened? You were madly in love with him at one point; would even give up these pancakes just to watch Step Up for the hundredth time," he says, grabbing the spoonful of food from your hand and directing it towards his mouth.

You scowl at him but feed him nonetheless. It's his cooking, after all. "Magic Mike happened," you shrug. "He became so hot, it was hard to breathe. I had to let him go. But it was amicable," you say nonchalantly, eyes focused again on the TV screen.

He laughs at this but takes it. He's used to this, just like he's used to all your musings about your made-up relationships with celebrities and the made-up worlds you retreat to; a coping mechanism, a way for you to escape the shit show that was your home. He always preferred that over you running away, which you used to do quite often, too.

Jungkook is just glad you'd found healthier coping mechanisms as you grew older, his nights of searching for you beneath bridges and in alleyways now replaced with cooking your favorite food and watching your favorite films with you. Even if you eat ¾ of what he's cooked, even if you rarely make him choose the movie, and even if you end up falling asleep halfway through.

He'll take this over you sobbing on his chest and downing whatever alcohol you convinced the convenience store guy to sell you, every single time.

It doesn't take long for the food to be finished. "Food good?" He asks, a smirk creeping on his face.

"Divine. Almost as good as your mother's," you smile. "You know nothing will ever, ever be better than her cooking."

Jungkook shifts on the couch. "How's she doing by the way? And my dad? And the restaurant?" He asks nervously.

You glare at him. "Kook, they're your parents. Why are you asking me?"

He shrugs. "Jiyoung's been busy with medical school and said she hasn't been able to visit Mom and Dad in a while, too. Just figured you'd know. I mean, I'm sure you know how they're doing."