Chapter 6
Married to the Bad BoyCHAPTER 6
“So, what exactly are you trying to tell us?” Seokjin asks carefully, not wanting to piss the younger boy more than he is now who’s currently leaning against his kitchen island and munching on a green apple—he received as a gift from a fellow chef—with so much force than necessary.
He’s still bone tired from the business meetings he’d attended this past week out of town, but here he is, standing in his kitchen and cutting carrots for the chicken macaroni soup his cousins had requested for him to cook. He thinks he deserves at least 20 hours of sleep, straight, but he also knows he cannot ignore his cousins requests, especially when they’re not in their best mood (what’s new here, to be honest). He’s not complaining, though. He loves them too much to ignore. And also, he likes the company from the youngsters, different ambiance from managers and chefs he’d seen on daily.
“You’re seriously asking me that, hyung? I’ve been talking here for like hours and you’re not listening? Am I talking nonsense here?” the younger boy says around the mouthful of fruit, bits flying as he stomps his right foot on the tiled floor with hands flailing around him for effects.
Seokjin frowns; annoyed at the tone that was (his tired brain cells claim) bordering disrespect. “You better fix that tone of yours when talking to me, Jeon Jungkook. I am not just someone to be talked like that,” he says firmly, cutting the carrot in half with unnecessary force, knife meeting his favorite wooden cutting board loudly.
Jungkook visibly gulps, standing straight and eyeing Seokjin’s broad back and shoulders before clearing his throat. “Well, my point is, hyung, this whole thing doesn’t make sense. I’ve been staying back at our shared unit but I don’t see any pet. Honestly, who is this Jordan? Why do they sound like so obsessed and in love to this Jordan? And who the —“(Language please)”—who exactly is this Jordan? And why Jimin doesn’t have pet? He should’ve a pet named Jordan!”
“Honestly,” Seokjin starts, sautéing the ingredients, “I am so tired for this kind of conversation, Jungkook-ah.” And there’s a childish whine from behind him. Seokjin can’t help the smile that secretly crept up his lips. His cousins may act like coated with tough shells and bad boy materials but in all honesty, they’re still just a kid with childish logics.
“This Jordan is draining me,” Jungkook grumbles.
“Of course it would drain you,” Seokjin says matter-of-factly, distracted by his cooking. “We’ve been going on about this for what, almost a month. When will you drop it?”
“Why don’t you just ask Park Jimin about it?” A low, raspy voice enters the room, managing to startle Jungkook. Seokjin look over his shoulder, seeing Yoongi with sleepy eyes and hair sticking in odd directions opening his fridge. The boy’s still wearing his pyjamas though it is already quarter before 12 noon. “You don’t have orange juice, hyung? I need that every morning.”
“Firstly, I only have four seasons there. And secondly, for your information, it’s almost noon—“ (Almost, so it means it’s still not noon enough to be noon so basically it is still morning) ”—And didn’t I tell you to sleep on time, Yoongi? Do I really need to be strict and tuck you in bed myself every night?” Seokjin says, going back to his cooking. He heard Jungkook snickers behind him.
There’s a slam of the fridge door. “No. But I need to work my off ‘til the early hours of mornings if I want to pass my projects on time. And another no because I am not staying here for long, hyung. I have my own apartment, thanks.”
Seokjin hums. “And going back to you Jungkook,” pouring the milk in the pot, “I think Yoongi has a point. And this whole nonsense has to stop as soon as possible so just ask Jimin about it directly. Stop crawling every nook and cranny of your unit and stop spying the poor boy and his friend—“ (Jungkook’s solid crush for two years, Taehyung) (W-What?!) “—and suspecting (read: accusing) them about obsessing over this Jordan purely based on your assumptions. That’s not nice, young man.”
“You called me young man. Definitely sounds like dad.”
“That’s why he loves dad jokes.”
“Shut up the both of you before—“
“Not the food please!”
Seokjin sighs, massaging his temples after closing the pot’s lid and turning to the two boys with a sigh.
“Okay, do this. Jungkook, go to your best friend and ask him nicely who is this Jordan exactly because it is still a big miracle to me that I am still here standing in front of the both of you, cooking, preparing food and listening to your rants despite the need to sleep and rest for straight six months after hours of meetings and duties and flight,” he says to the youngest as calmly as he can before turning to the mint haired boy. “And you, Yoongi, we’re not done yet about your abnormal sleeping schedule. It is getting unhealthy, okay? I’ll get back to you sooner or later. And also please, I heard about your family meeting with your fiancé later tonight. Prepare and be good. I need you to bring me good news. Are we clear here, boys?”
.
.
.
“Taetae,” Jimin whines, “Look at this necktie. I think it is trying to suffocate me!”
“No, Jiminnie,” his strawberry head friend answers, tilting his whole body to the side to get a good view of the television in front of him. “It is just your imagination. But I am getting dizzy and I am sure it’s not just my imagination.”
“But why do I need to be in formal suits for dinner?” he asks, voice pitching a little bit higher than usual, “It’s not like I am going to meet someone important.”
“Didn’t you say you’re going to meet important people?”
“Hmm,” Jimin hums, stopping from his pacing and feeling someth
Comments