hotel_omelas | (no subject)

It might be a little selfish. No, childish is probably the better word. It's a little bit selfish and a little bit childish for Jungkook to seize upon the first opportunity to tug on his brothers, curled up under his covers in bed. He knows that he's being an imposition, but no matter how well he blankets himself in layers upon layers, they never seem to succeed at shielding him from the cold.

He can hear the muffled sounds of dishes being set in the distance, but he has the feeling that there are only two placements being set. Mother's out with others, one of those rare gatherings that takes place when all of her friends are finally willing to borrow time for themselves.

Jungkook encouraged her to go.

When Seokjin extends the invitation, Jungkook is on his feet in a flash, muttering a quick 'forgot something at school' as he heads out the door. It's a stupid excuse that he might pay for later, but for now, relief is the predominant emotion.

In his defense, Jungkook helps to set the table before he starts eating. He sets it for four... no, five spots. He thinks he can help pull that many of them together. There's so much food, after all. And his role is to be the last one to hold on, and maybe that's okay.

It takes a village to raise a child.

"I need a bigger table," Seokjin says with a shake of his head. Not that anyone's ever complained about close quarters when they're here to eat. He nods quick gratitude when Jungkook sets the table, though he wouldn't actually have pressed if he'd just shown up and grabbed a bowl. He's not even serious about making Jungkook do he dishes but he thinks they all know that given how much of a melodrama he'd made about it on Twitter.

"Move over," he adds, setting the pot on the table and turning the ladle in the stew for Jungkook to take his fill.

For all that his age should give Seokjin the opportunity to impose on the group, Jungkook has always found his hyung to be more of the mothering sort. It's part of why Jungkook never fails to reach for what's offered — Seokjin's company, his nurturing. Maybe someday, Jungkook will wear out his welcome, like he seems to have with so many others in his life.

But for now, he lets himself bask in it. A simple stew feels fit for a king.

He's always been the youngest in every setting; reaching for Seokjin's bowl first feels instinctual. It's possible that Seokjin already had his fill long before Jungkook arrived, but Jungkook hopes not. Eating by oneself is a lonely thing.

"Hyung prefers the meat, right?" Jungkook asks, picking a couple extra pieces and placing them atop Seokjin's bowl, carefully ladling more soup until it reaches the brim.

He does but he'd also rather Jungkook eat his fill. Kimchi jjigae is comfort food, meant to warm a person from the belly to the tips of his toes until he feels full and happy. It's a little thing but it's what he can give, especially to friends he'd be nothing without. Even though it's proper for Jungkook to serve him as the younger but there's something particularly sentimental about it when it comes from his aloof dongsaeng. "So good to hyung," he teases. "Making sure I don't starve." He leans over and nudges Jungkook with his elbow and then takes his bowl.

"Yoongi might come. I think Hoseok and Jiminie have rehearsal. Tae didn't answer yet. Namjoon is at work, I think. Another night shift." Jin purses his mouth to he side. Working as a gas station attendant seems like a miserable job for anyone but for someone whose mind is so active, who needs challenge and excitement? It probably feels like hell.

It's the least he can do, Jungkook thinks, to make sure his hyung has eaten his fill. There's little else that Jungkook can offer beyond effort — not talented enough, too young to find a job, and starting to slip on the schoolwork as well. He's always felt a bit out of place in their group, the only one who doesn't seem to shine in his own right.

Jungkook shifts a bit to the side, but only a little. Even though the table has plenty of space for two, there's something comforting about eating side by side, close enough to feel the warmth emanate from another person's body. The message he'd sent about being cold was partly in jest, but it seems to ring true now.

Eagerly, Jungkook starts to ladle his own serving, reaching out with his spoon for a heaping pile of rice to sink in.

"Yoongi hyung better come," Jungkook declares, huffing around a too-hot bite in an effort to cool it down. "And if Hoseok hyung and Jimin hyung have rehearsal, they're going to be extra hungry after, right? We should invite them. Unless hyung has to be up early in the morning." Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Jungkook peeks around SNS, trying to spot any word from Taehyung.

Seokjin wouldn't agree with that assessment, if he knew it. In his mind, Jungkook is a bright star on the rise. Or maybe not a star, more like a stellar nebula, sill forming and full of chaotic potential. When he grows into himself and the dust settles, he thinks Jungkook might outshine them all if given the chance. Certainly, he'll outshine Seokjin.

"Yoongi will come," he says with an odd certainty. Yoongi pretends grumpy disinterest the same way Seokjin pretends an insatiable need for dramatic praise but he's almost always there whenever they gather together. He might be a spiky little cactus but a cactus is still a plant and it needs sun and warmth.

Seokjin passes a cup of water to Jungkook, a quiet and venomless reprimand to eat slowly. No one will take his food away here.

Every one of his hyungs is reliable — the six that truly matter, who have welcomed Jungkook like one of their own. Still, Jungkook can't help but feel heartened by Seokjin's reassurance. If there's anyone he trusts to pull all of them together, it's Jin hyung, with his arms always open to receive the rest of them from orbit.

Jungkook ducks his head, bashful as he receives the cup with both hands and quickly takes a gulp, cooling his throat. "Sorry," he breathes, punching his chest with a lightly balled fist. "Hyung's cooking is just so good; I got too excited."

He tries again, chopsticks picking up a few pieces of kimchi that he crunches with relish, lips puckering to savor the tart flavor. "Yah, hyung," he speaks around a mouthful before catching himself, taking another drink of his water. "It's almost Christmas. We should plan a party, right?"

"Aish, don't apologize. Just don't burn yourself," Seokjin says. Jungkook ducks his head but he's quick to follow with a hair ruffle. As quickly as the light admonishment comes, Seokjin is equally quick to pat Jungkook firmly on the back as if that will somehow get the food to move down faster.

"Christmas?" He tilts his head as if he's never heard the word before, drawing out Jungkook's suggestion. "Do you think we should?" It'll be here, probably. Seokjin likes to think that this is one of their home bases or maybe just a place that feels like home. In his mind's eye, he's already picking out the silliest-looking Christmas cake he can find in an imaginary store. But he wants to make Jungkook squirm.

The fingers threading through his hair feel nice, and Jungkook is a little reluctant to let the feeling go. Still, he complies when Seokjin pats his back, taking the unspoken encouragement and fishing for more pieces of kimchi in his stew. He hasn't had the opportunity to learn that much about Seokjin's family — they all know that he spend some time studying abroad, that he's more worldly and learned in that way — but it's hard for Jungkook to imagine that Seokjin didn't pick up his cooking from somewhere.

A loving pair of hands.

Jungkook chews quickly to get his bite down, his spoon resting against the bowl with a light tap. "Yeah! Dad might expect me to be around for dinner, but I don't think he'd say no if I wanted to go to a party. Even if he does, I'll sneak out," he adds determinedly. "It'd be a waste to get a day off school and not spend it with everyone. We can have it here, yeah? ...if hyung's okay with it?"

Family cooks. Baby-sitters. Youtube. Other exchange students in America. But not from maternal kindness or sibling closeness. Seokjin's impression of his parents is monolithic, with more in common with statues made from diorite than the flesh or blood they're supposed to be. He'd become better in the last year, living alone.

"My parents will probably be at some showy party with my brother," he says without thinking. Quickly, he smiles like it sounds like his idea of hell (actually, it does, but he can't pretend to wish a little bit that he'd been wanted there. "I'll probably be free and bored at home if you don't all come over. I'll buy a cake for us."

There are times when his hyungs' words sail over Jungkook's head, the consequence of youth and inexperience. But with Seokjin, there are flashes of a bone-deep empathy. Jungkook's mother may be a harbor in the storm, but it's not enough to spare Jungkook the knowledge that he isn't enough, that he can't live up to the family name.

Not like his hyung can. Taller, broader. Perhaps not significantly better with his studies, but he looks the part, knows how to wrest control of a room. Jungkook has always been satisfied to watch and capture the scene from afar.

So when Seokjin mentions his brother, how his parents will be taking his brother with them to parties but not Seokjin himself, Jungkook's stomach lurches with the thought that his family would probably do the same, were they in a position to. But why they would leave Seokjin back, Jungkook can't fathom.

"I bet hyung would be super handsome and fit in at those fancy parties," Jungkook says, earnest even as his heart aches, "but I'm glad you're not... like that, inside. I'm glad that you're our hyung. We're always happy when we're here, you know? Cake is better than a stiff suit and tie party, anyway."

There's a quiet moment where Seokjin knows he's said too much and Jungkook's not saying much at all. He bites his lip and then smiles like it means nothing. Because it doesn't. Those parties always sound miserable, like every motion and gesture is actually a secret etiquette test and if he so much as tilts his head wrong, he could very well cost everyone a business merger. He's relieved to not have to go to them but he does wish he was considered worthy of bringing.

"I've got the looking handsome part down. I'm brilliant at it," he agrees. It's just everything else he lacks. Cleverness, instinct, a cutthroat pursuit of the upper hand. His brother, sharper in all ways, is the better candidate.

Jungkook looks so very sincere that Seokjin wants to hug him and promise there's nothing to worry about but he refrains, afraid it will make him worry. As the youngest of them, it isn't his burden.

"I'd rather be with all of you anyway. Seriously."

There's both truth and a separate yearning in the statement, Jungkook suspects. It's true that whenever they crowd into his apartment like this, Jin hyung seems to shine at his brightest, happy to provide and watch all the warmth and affection spreading through his residence. It's too easy for Jungkook to project himself onto Jin hyung. For both of them, being in this company is where they want to be.

Still, there's something to be said for wondering, for the wistfulness that comes with the question of what could otherwise be. Formal parties don't sound very fun. Just in the same way as Jungkook has no desire to go camping or skiing with his father and brother.

But what if they were welcome? Would they enjoy it then?

"Ah, hyung isn't just handsome," Jungkook protests. "Jin hyung's smart and." He lowers his voice, glances around conspiratorially before leaning back in. "Jin hyung makes me laugh the most. And making me laugh with those terrible jokes, that's gotta be a talent."

His gaze drops to Seokjin's chopsticks, and to the bowl that's still filled from when Jungkook served it earlier. Jungkook closes his eyes and opens his mouth, signaling a desire to be fed.

Seokjin laughs and throws his head back, preening appropriately. "Good, I work very hard at having incredibly terrible jokes." He focuses on the less relevant thing rather than commenting on his intelligence. Seokjin gets good marks but he's never felt particularly smart. Jungkook may not enjoy school but Seokjin's pretty sure his friend can already think circles around all of them, except maybe Namjoon. Namjoon would just end up doing figure eights, philosophically, in a pair.

That is, if Jungkook doesn't get distracted by hunger.

"Oh, are you a baby seagull now?" Jin teases. He considers, for a moment, finding the spiciest pepper in his bowl but opts instead for a bit of tofu to be nice

"Only for hyung's cooking, aang," Jungkook says, clamping down on the offering and eating it with relish, a wide smile on his face. Any other time, he might be a little embarrassed to dip into cutesy behavior, but with Jin being the eldest, it feels natural. As soon as the tofu's tucked away in his cheek, Jungkook leans up against Seokjin, clearly angling for a hug. For the type of affection that he craves most from a brother.

"Yah, hyung's cooking keeps getting better," he declares, reaching for his chopsticks to dig more rice out of his bowl, mixing it with the stew to soak up all the spiciness. "I can make toast. Jam toast. Cheese toast. But nothing like this. You should open a restaurant someday, really."

"You're lucky you're adorable," Seokjin says. He waits for Jungkook to finish his bite before patting his cheek and then giving the hug that his body language practically screams out for. Sometimes, he thinks it should overwhelm him, just how much he'd be willing to do for each of these boys. But at the end of the day, he feels as if he could give them everything and it still wouldn't be enough to repay how happy they make him.

"Well I have lots of reasons to practice. Six reasons, specifically." He ruffles Jungkook's hair again before going back into his own bowl. "We could cook together sometime, if you want to learn."

"I'm the lucky one because I have such a great hyung," Jungkook counters, laughing as he returns the hug in kind. The difference in height between the two of them isn't as vast as it used to be, but Jungkook likes to think that he still fits perfectly well in the shield of his hyung's arms, his smile and laughter pressed against Jin's neck as Jungkook manages to launch himself over the mere couple of inches that separate them. Just to deepen that hug a little more.

"Five boys and a bottomless void," Jungkook confirms, looking up with a cheesy smile before turning back to his bowl as well, shoveling a large spoon of rice and tofu into his mouth for emphasis. "But really, you'd let me in the kitchen? Ah hyung, I definitely want to learn! I can chop everything up for you. I'm good at washing vegetables, too."

And he's lucky to have the six of them, Seokjin thinks. He's the luckiest person in the room and, unlike every other privilege that he's just been handed, Seokjin has worked his hardest to deserve their friendship. He loves them all so fiercely that he'd do anything for them.

"It's going to be horribly cold soon. Good weather for more jjigae. Or maybe Jjim dalk. What do you think?" Those are dishes that are fun to make with people, good for learning.

"I want to make hotteok sometime too," he says, a little dreamily. "We could make lots of batter and fillings and then everyone could take turns on a grill. When it gets really cold."

"Ahhh, jjim dalk, that sounds so good," Jungkook whines, even with jjigae right in front of him. Back home, there are times when Jungkook feels like he has to curb his appetite somewhat, not wanting to appear gluttonous or to look greedy in front of his father — but Jin hyung seems to enjoy the sight of Jungkook eating his fill, a fact that makes their meals all the more enjoyable.

He stuffs his cheeks with more rice, slurping the soup with relish. There's just something different about a home-cooked stew that no amount of ramyeon can match — the faint taste of spring onion and anchovy stock.

"Hotteok would be even better," he adds, careful to swallow his mouthful. "What kind of fillings would we get? I like the honey ones."

"Well I guess if that sounds better, does that mean you've already had your fill of kimchi jjigae?" Seokjin teases, even as he finds a particularly nice-looking chunk of pork and holds it up for Jungkook to eat from his chopsticks if he so desires. It makes him happy, seeing the others enjoy his food. It makes him feel worth something.

"Brown sugar. I like the traditional style," he admits. "And then sweet bean paste. Or condensed milk poured on top. But that's so messy."

"I didn't say it sounded better," Jungkook retorts, his expression taking on a dreamy look as he leans forward and tugs the pork from Seokjin's chopsticks, chewing it slowly and appreciatively. "I can enjoy hyung's food and also dream about how great hyung's future cooking is going to be at the same time." With anyone else, Jungkook might be concerned about displaying such greediness, but with Seokjin, showing greediness is almost its own form of affection.

No walls raised around his eldest hyung.

"Mm, brown sugar is good too," he nods, leaning forward with a soft smile, his chin dropping heavily against his palm. "Especially with condensed milk. It's okay to be messy, right? That's part of the fun. And I can stay back and help you clean after."

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ineedanepiphany - 2018-11-30 06:29 (UTC) - Expand

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lovestrippedbare - 2018-12-02 00:10 (UTC) - Expand

It's nice to be with family. Inside, away from the cold, away from the rest of the world that didn't matter half as much as the world that waited for him here - or anywhere any of them were, really. Jungkook is the first person Taehyung sees when he bursts into the apartment with Seokjin and Namjoon, and his attention is easily diverted.

"Jungkookie!" He didn't even try to hide his excitement, bursting out in a smile and running across the apartment to attack the younger from the side, arms wrapping around him in something between a tackle and a hug. It's a disproportionately excited reaction - it's not as though they don't see each other practically every day - but it's not exactly unexpected from Taehyung, sometimes. "Ah, why are you setting so many places? I'm going to eat most of it, and you can have the rest."

Most people might flinch at a blur suddenly appearing at one's side, but Jungkook readies himself instinctively, eyes wide and laughing as he let himself be bowled over. His hands find Taehyung's sleeves and clutch tightly — if he's going down, he's not going down alone. Soon enough, the both of them are splayed over the dining chairs, Jungkook dissolving in a fit of giggles.

"Taehyungie hyung!" he roars, thrashing a little as he tries to find a way to sit up without breaking the embrace. "Took you long enough. Next time, I really won't wait so long for you. Jin hyung's cooking is too good; it's a shame for it to go cold."

Jungkook reaches for one of the empty bowls, ladling extra tofu and any remaining meat he can find. There are times when he forgets to do his duty as the youngest, but nights like this make it easy, excitement brimming with every arrival.

"Ah, Kookie." The face that he makes is one of distaste, though it's not nearly as serious as he pretends. "Hyung needs to eat too, you know. How else will I keep up with you?"

He sits back to give Jungkook enough room to breathe (but just barely), arm still draped over his shoulders as he watches his food get served. He never expects Jungkook to serve him, but he watches quietly as he does, licking his lips and bouncing his knee in excitement as he brightens, hands going out quickly to slide the bowl in front of him. With just the two of them at the table, everyone else dispersed, it's easy to ignore other conversations and parts of the rooms he'd like to bounce to.

And besides - he likes checking in on Kook, and sometimes, he likes to talk to him without their hyungs. It gives them space to breathe, to think, to be. It's not as though they have to pretend with the others, but sometimes, he thought, Jungkook put on a brave face.

But didn't they all?

The soup is still hot, and he relishes the warmth, so much more comforting than outside. After sitting and enjoying the food for a moment, he takes a breath, relaxing back and resting a hand on his belly. "'s so good. Jin hyung did good."

There are very few people in the world whose excitement Jungkook finds as infectious as Taehyung's, who currently looks fit to shake right out of his skin. It's a quality that Jungkook admires — how Taehyung isn't afraid to lay all of his emotions out on the table without affect. For all the times that Jungkook tries to temper his own enthusiasm, worried about irritated teachers and scolding family members, he never bothers to put on airs around Taehyung.

"Did you even chew?" Jungkook asks, laughing as he reaches over and gives Taehyung's stomach a sharp pat. "Ah, if only eating more could help us grow taller. We'd easily dwarf Namjoon hyung."

With his hyung now finished, Jungkook turns on his seat, pushes it out with a screech of chair legs against the floor until there's enough space for him to lay back, resting his head on Taehyung's lap. It probably doesn't look all too comfortable, a mess of tangled limbs and little support under his back, but Jungkook can't help but angle for the attention. Sometimes, if he's lucky, his hyungs might pet his hair.

"It's really good though, right? Almost as good as my mom's food. Almost."