[from: Kim1]

can you bring me lunch?

 

[to: Kim1]

its like 3pm

 

[from: Kim1]

Lunner, then.

 

[to: Kim1]

...

 

[from: Kim1]

I only had a slice of bread and a glass of water since 4am. :(

 

[to: Kim1]

ok.

 

[from: Kim1]

:D please wear something appropriate this time.

 

[to: Kim1]

I DIDNT KNOW U WERE IN A MEETING!!!

 

[from: Kim1]

;) Thank you!

 

 

 

⋟⋇⋞

That’s how Yoongi ended up again in the lobby of Seokjin’s company building, but this time, wearing a blue Moschino top and trousers, and on his left hand is a black thermal lunch bag.

 

Yoongi frowned and carded a hand through his unkemptly styled hair. He didn’t understand how Kim Seokjin couldn’t just order takeaway like a normal person. Or just get his out of his probably comfortably customised office chair and go out to a nearby restaurant. He was an abled body person who could afford it, so why the was he the one doing the cooking and delivering?

 

The man sighed and trudged his way (as if he was walking on mud—he felt heavy and just tired) to the elevator to get to the top floor.

 

Yoongi couldn’t miss the way the people glanced at him and whispered insults regarding his personality and upbringing.

 

  “Did you see him the other day? He literally was arguing with Mr. Kim about sending him on an errand.”

 

  “I did! Ohmygod, I can’t believe someone would ever talk back to Mr. Kim!”

 

  “I mean, I get why they’re getting married—at least he’s not a doormat like one of the director’s kids.”

 

  “Right? Exactly.”

 

  “They’re probably a match made in heaven.”

 

  “or hell, depends on how you look at it.”

 

Then, giggles. He couldn’t believe he was becoming the talk of town. Hell, the whole of Seoul was probably talking up a storm about him and Seokjin.

 

On the 6th floor, several employees filed in and out of the elevator and Yoongi couldn’t help but move at the far end of the moving contraption.

 

This time, he doesn’t hear about how suitable he was with Seokjin but the opposite. Apparently, having a mysterious background isn’t a good trait for a fiance of Kim Seokjin, CEO of the Kim Corporation.

 

When someone spoke up about Jin choosing a foreigner over the locals of Seoul, Yoongi’s eyes immediately trailed toward the man talking.

 

It was one of the board of directors that Namjoon told him about (Or had him forcibly memorise, more likely). The director kept talking to the employees that the CEO’s fiancé is basically a mushroom popping out of nowhere in this lush forest—completely out of place and unnecessary.

 

When he did arrive at the correct floor, he was greeted by a bickering couple—well not exactly a couple, but a pair of guys who looked a little lost in a room full of suits.

 

The two looked like they came straight out of a photoshoot.

 

The shorter of the two pauses from their conversation to look at him and Yoongi couldn’t help but look away and try to walk like he wasn’t staring at them.

 

“Hey, wait—you’re Seokjin hyung’s fiance, right?” The short one asked as he walked towards him. Yoongi just nodded and tried to escape to Jin’s office, but the smaller man only walked closer.

 

“Jimin, come on. He’s not worth it.” The taller man said and Yoongi couldn’t help but feel a little insecure from the other’s tone.

 

“Aren’t you a little curious about your cousin’s fiance, Tae? Besides, if Jin hyung is really marrying him, then he’ll be your hyung too.” The guy called Jimin said, and Yoongi couldn’t help but feel invisible. They were talking about him as if he wasn’t there.

 

Yoongi looked toward the door to Jin’s office, debating on whether to leave the two model looking men to themselves or to join them and perhaps tell them to politely off.

 

He decided on the latter. “Sorry, I can’t help but hear you talking about me. I’m Yoongi. Seokjin’s—" he wasn’t even able to finish his sentence when the taller of the two spoke over him. “—fiance, we know. We’ve heard about you from Namjoon-hyung.”

 

The shorter of the two frowned at this and tried his best to look accommodating—“I’m Park Jimin, and this is Kim Taehyung—a cousin of Seokjin-hyung.” Yoongi could only nod. He didn’t know if he should try to get a conversation going or duck out and into Jin’s office.

 

But he didn’t have to worry about that since the man himself went out of said office with a phone pressed to his ears.

 

I specifically told you to cut them down. Our costs are already up to 35%. Do you want me to go over there and do it myself? He snaps harshly onto the phone and Yoongi could’t help but frown at the older’s outburst.

 

He was playing the wolf’s role.

 

  ’No, Either have them forcibly resign or fire them. I’m only giving you 5 days, Mr. Chae. I want at least 20% of that manpower cut down.’

 

He broke away from the two and made his way to Seokjin, his free hand already reaching out to comfort the older. It was instinctive but perhaps he had already schooled himself in acting like the kind fiance he was supposed to be.

 

  So, you’re Min Yoongi, you’re a year younger than Seokjin-hyung. You grew up in Singapore and you’re sweet and gentle—but you can hold your own ground. You’re a bit rough around the edges since you grew up without your parents’ eagle eyes on you. You sometimes clash with Seokjin-hyung, but at the end of the day, it’s still you guys. You balance him out, yeah? Got it? You think you can act that out?

 

For the money? Of course he can and he will. He would even go beyond what is expected of him if that meant the old Jung would get off his case.

 

Kim Seokjin also didn't disappoint. He reached to Yoongi and twined their fingers together, rubbing his thumb over Yoongi’s knuckle.

 

“Sorry, just leave it in the office, we’ll eat together after I’m done,” he whispered to Yoongi with a soft smile, eyes crinkling with exhaustion. Yoongi only nodded before glancing at the Taehyung and Jimin, and then shuffled into the office.

 

So, he waited.

 

Once seated on one of the sofa in the office, Yoongi found himself looking around and digesting every detail of the room. As someone who arranged flowers for a living, he found that even interior design was somewhat akin to his profession.

 

The minimalistic design of the room gave off an aloof impression to anyone who walks in. As if the owner didn’t want them to feel comfortable in the office. It’s all business and professionalism to Kim Seokjin. Although Yoongi doesn’t miss the personal belongings that were littered randomly in places. A Mario figurine as a bookstand. A picture frame on one of the shelves. A stuffed bear between plaques and framed certificates.

 

There was also a pink fountain pen on the mahogany desk. Something that’s seemingly out of place in the cold and daunting office of Kim Seokjin.

 

He sighs and takes his phone out. A measly mobile phone that operated on Java applications. A stark contrast to the sleek black smartphone that Namjoon gave him to seal their contract.

 

He checked his messages, all were from his brother and some, from Hoseok. It was mainly Jungkook updating him on the current events that were happening at home, or well, their aunt’s house. Hobi, on the otherhand, was asking about him and where he was slaving his off. Yoongi was tempted to tell him to off.

 

[to: kookie]

I think i might be able to go home on saturday

 

[from: kookie]

no worries, hyung! just do what you do best and make us rich ₩₩₩

 

[to: kookie]

dork. :P

 

[from: kookie]

we miss you, tho, you bigger dork >u<

 

He doesn’t reply and slides his phone back into his pocket, switching to the phone Namjoon gave him. He checks over the apps that Joon downloaded and made sure he has read all the notifications and ticked off his to do list.

 

Yoongi was reading an article about finance and marketing when Seokjin walked in, forehead creased and lips pursed tightly in a grimace, his eyes were glued to his phone as he typed away.

 

“You should eat. Food is probably cold by now.” Yoongi muttered  as he gestured at the lunch he brought. He would have ordered food in one of the restaurants but Seokjin had insisted that a home cooked meal was part of the contract that he would rather not do without. A staple, if you may.

 

“Alright.” The older says, and sits across him. Yoongi unpacked the food and laid them out on the table while Jin finished whatever he was doing on his phone. Soon enough, the young CEO was digging into Yoongi’s subpar cooking.

 

“By the way, Yoongicchi, you’re coming to a dinner with me next Friday.” Seokjin says between mouthfuls. Yoongi stops and looks at him. Huh?

 

“Yeah. My cousins will be there. Also the board of directors would be present so please be in your best, uh, behavior.” Seokjin continued, before pausing to stare at the food he was shoveling into his mouth.

 

“Are you sure you put the seasoning?” He asked as he stared questioningly at the limp instant noodles that was burried in broccoli and beef.

 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to put instant ramen seasoning on stir fry noodles,” Yoongi said slowly and moved to take his chopsticks to sample his own cooking.

 

“Well, did you at least put salt in it?” Jin asked before chewing thoughtfully, “it tastes a bit bland.” He then took a large serving of noodles and broccoli and motioned for Yoongi to open his mouth, “here, try it.” He said and Yoongi automatically opened his mouth to accept the offered food. He too, chewed intently and paused, “don’t worry about seasoning and salt, hyung,” he paused to swallow the mouthful of noodles and vegetables, “This is all natural. Healthier that way. No MSG!” He paused once more, eyes glazing over as his palette registered the flavors, “I’m only concerned for your health, dear.” He finally concluded, reaching out to pat Seokjin’s hand.  

 

Seokjin only stared glumly at his food, probably half wanting to chuck it on the cook and half thinking that at least Yoongi tried. “Well, anything is delicious to a starving man, as they say,” the man muttered with a shrug before he ate the tasteless food with gusto.

 

Yoongi could only watch in awe, chopsticks still poised to take because he was so sure he made enough for two people.

 

 

 

⋟⋇⋞

The next time Yoongi made a proper meal for Kim Seokjin, he made sure he had all the right ingredients and they were going into the pot as intended. Well, for now, he had most ingredients. And maybe less. He may have forgotten to do grocery shopping (opting out of the grocery delivery that the older preferred) because they finally finalised the contract where he poses as the enigmatic fiance of Kim Seokjin in public, while he’s the glorified housemaid in the privacy of the man’s house.

 

Which he shared with him, for the past two months.

 

Thankfully, his family had no care over the private affairs of the people in downtown. They preferred talking about the latest dramas—Did Portia finally leave Henry’s cheating ? Why can’t she see that he’s just a gold digging tool?

 

Or that afternoon drama that he still vehemently denies he watched. He may have stolen glances from the TV while he swept the floor in the living room, this one time. Then, suddenly, he was curled up on the couch, riveted over the scenes unfolding on the screen while yelling at Seokjin’s 70-inch television set.

 

  “My god, you can’t just push her away like that, Cheolmin!”

 

  “OH, COME ON! COMMUNICATION IS KEY, PEOPLE!”

 

He wasn’t able to finish the series, though. Since Jin came home a little early one day, and caught him watching the drama that afternoon—it was too bad because it was a back to back episode and they were finally, finally, reconciling. He was sure that was the fastest time he switched the TV to a news channel and started on his house chores.

 

Seokjin about that to no end.

 

  “I knew you watch those afternoon dramas” Seokjin smirked at him.

 

  Yoongi scoffed at him and pointed out that he’s the one making his meals. ‘Don’t make me try and poison you, Kim Seokjin,’ to which Seokjin laughed at.

 

Yoongi frowned as he stared at the contents of the refrigerator. Seokjin’s meat products had already gone past its best before date and they smelled a little funky. He really should do his grocery shopping soon. At least, before Jin texts him that he’s hungry. He can’t just make him lunch or dinners in a snap of his fingers. He wasn’t a genie, for ’s sake.

 

With a resigned sigh, the man began collecting his things and made his way to the nearest farmers market.

 

The nearest one was apparently in the next town, and the man was definitely tired from the commute and he had decidedly dressed down to fit the aesthetic (he wasn’t stupid as to wear gucci slippers in a farmers market). Yoongi looked around first, looking for fresh greens. (He found romaine lettuce that looked absolutely breathtaking that he was tempted to use it in a bouquet, though it would suffice in Seokjin’s caesar salad.) Then, he went for the proteins.

 

“Young man, over here, my beef are fresh!”

 

“Ah, I’m just looking for eggs…for salad.” he mumbled in response to the old lady. From the opposite side, he heard:

 

“Young man, over here! My eggs are fresh! Fresher than any light proteins you’ll find!” Yoongi was easily swayed by that line. The man beelined toward the lady and inspected an egg.

 

“Do you want small, medium or large?” The old woman asked as she watched the young man inspect her eggs as if they might have cracks in them.

 

“Uh, they have sizes?”

 

“Of course they do! Where are you using them, young man?”

 

“Uh, my, um, husband’s salad?” Yoongi replied uneasily. The old woman’s eyes brightened at his response and with a quirk of her lips, she asked: “Well, how big is your husband, dear?”

 

Yoongi’s thoughts were immediately pulled toward Seokjin’s expansive shoulders, “XL?”

 

The ahjumma giggled and handed him a tray of eggs, “Those are the largest eggs that I have. If you’re making salad, I would highly recommend using parmesan cheese and balsamic vinegar—I read that on Cosmo. Oh, and, add lots of those eggs. Protein is good! Your husband will surely love you!”

 

  “Ahjumma!”

 

The lady merely waved him off and he gloomily handed his payment before looking for fishes.

 

Unfortunately for him, the old ladies at the market had too much time in their hands that they engage in idle gossip with everyone and they watch too many prime time dramas at night.

 

“Ahjumma, what’s a good fish to consume for a high powered man who needs to relax sometimes?”

 

He probably asked the wrong question because the lady began pointing at a huge fish that was hanging on a hook. “Salmon is always a good option, dear boy. I heard you’re cooking for your husband,” She winked, “I’d suggest you cook it with asparagus and serve him saffron rice. I’m already 60 and my yeobo and I are still going strong” The old woman grinned toothily at him (she was missing a front tooth. It looked weird as .)

 

“Er, right. Jin’s tasting a new dish, then...” He muttered as he purchased all the things that the old ladies suggested him.

 

He didn’t really know if Jin would like them. He was no chef, anyway. He’s just a flower shop attendant who made bouquets for a living.

 

  3 Days before the Dinner.

 

“You’re obviously not cut for this. Even those stuff Joonie hyung got you aren’t gonna work this time.” Taehyung huffed as he stared down the older man. Yoongi met him with an equally pissed off glare.

 

Yoongi wasn’t sure if Taehyung was told about his and Jin’s arrangement but he still didn’t like the tone the younger had.

 

They were preparing for the dinner that Seokjin mentioned the other day and Taehyung was tasked to walk Yoongi through the way the Kims host dinners.

 

Dinners, apparently, were evenings of long talks about family heritage, business, wealth and even one’s achievements in life. It already sounds nauseating, to be honest. And Yoongi was starting to feel a little overwhelmed with the way Taehyung was treating him.

 

Oddly enough, he preferred Namjoon over the younger Kim.

 

“Ohmygod, Yoongi-hyung, focus!” The younger snapped at him and Yoongi squinted at the drawing on the ipad. Taehyung was giving him a quick lesson on the genealogy of everyone coming to the Friday dinner. At least Tae was calling him ‘hyung’ instead of being painfully formal.

 

He asked once about why Kim Seokjin is the one hosting a dinner when everyone else seemed worthy to do it. Taehyung only scoffed at him and continued with their lesson.

 

They moved on to how and which silver wares to use with which food. “Start from the outside and work your way in,” the younger instructed him as they were presented with their soup appetizers for their mock dinner that ran a 9 course meal.

 

He half thought of packing some of the food being served so he could send them to Jungkook, but decided against it when he felt Taehyung’s eyes on him the whole time.

 

A server asked them if how they would like their steaks cooked.

 

Yoongi and Taehyung replied at the same time:

 

“Well done,”

 

“Medium rare,”

 

Taehyung gaped at him, “That’s not how you eat a steak, Min Yoongi!” And to the server, he instructed, “give him medium.”

 

Yoongi frowned and wondered who the hell eats a nearly raw meat? Probably the Kims. Maybe it’s their secret as to why they’re successful in life.

 

If so, perhaps he should feed Jungkook raw beef and seafood. Maybe he’ll become the next president of Korea.

 

“Look, I get that you grew up without getting even a 5 course meal in Singapore, but please, for your fiancé’s sake, focus! He will have important guests like Sheikhs, Dukes and even Prime Ministers from different countries. It’s demeaning if Kim Seokjin’s husband-to-be acts like a peasant during dinner!”

 

Yoongi held his tongue from retorting that he is a peasant. , he couldn’t even afford a new smartphone to replace his flip phone, let alone afford an expensive dinner for his family. He wasn’t even sure if his mum and brother had tasted steaks and lobsters before.

 

But, by gods, did he want to snap at Taehyung. Just because some people weren’t born with the same privileges they had doesn’t mean they could look down on them.

 

“Fine,” he muttered petulantly as he shoved a forkful of steak, dripping with blood (steak juice, some people would argue) into his mouth.

 

“Oh my god,” was all Taehyung can say as he watched Yoongi devour the rest of the meat.

 

Taehyung groaned and immediately pulled his phone out, dialling what Yoongi assumed was Namjoon’s number, “Hyung, he’s a lost cause. Can’t we just say he’s full and he won’t be eating? He can just sit there and not touch a single cutlery!”

 

Did Kim Taehyung just suggested that they starve him when glorious dishes were being served to snobs who probably can’t appreciate a properly cooked meat? Didn’t they know they could get diseases from eating half-cooked meat?

 

“Hey! I can-“ Taehyung immediately shushed him, flashing him a murderous look.

 

“. They are? Aren’t they in Maldives or something?” Yoongi clamped his lips shut but couldn’t help but try and listen in on the conversation.

 

“Hyung, I’m a celebrated fashion designer, not Jesus Christ! I can’t turn water into wine!” At this, he scoffed. How dare Kim mothering Taehyung compare him to something as basic as water? He could be a Sangria!

 

“Alright, fine. I’ll hand him the phone.” Taehyung finally said with a pout as he handed his shiny iphoneX to Yoongi.

 

“Hyung wants to talk to you.” He didn’t want to talk to Namjoon, though. He’s kind of scary. Too serious, he thought. Probably needs a lady friend of his own. Or a guy friend. that’s cool too. Then, they could play Mario Kart together or read articles off Cosmo like he and Jin did on their off days.

 

Yoongi gingerly took the device from a glowering Taehyung.

 

“Hello?”

 

  “Yoongi-ssi, how’s my baby cousin treating you? I’m sorry. Namjoon and I didn’t really tell him about the contract, but he thinks that i’m only with you to save face, so he’s not far from the truth.”

 

Yoongi glanced at Taehyung and bit on the inside of his cheeks, How should I play this? “It’s okay, jagi. He’s treating me well enough. He’s even taking me shopping later.” Only because when Taehyung surveyed his wardrobe, he only possessed thirdhand clothing from thrift shops or charity sales.

 

  “Really? that’s so sweet of him. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you tonight. I just heard from Joonie that my parents might come to dinner on Friday. Nothing is sure yet, but I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

 

“Oh. That’s okay. I’d love to finally meet them…” He replied, to which Taehyung only cocked a brow at. Yoongi flipped him the bird and smiled sweetly. “Anyway, babe, I’ve gotta go. Tae is anxious to go to the nearest Emporio Armani.”

 

He only knew Armani from that drama he watched the other day.

 

And Taehyung did end up taking him to Armani—just to prove to his eldest cousin that he was decent with Yoongi. Though they did end up recruiting Jimin to be a mediator because Tae and Yoongi bickered a lot.

 

“Hyung, try these!” Jimin exclaimed as he placed a set of suits to Yoongi’s arms, pushing him into the fitting room.

 

“Come on, I’ll help you wear them!”

 

He barely even refused because he’s getting shoved back first against the fitting room and Jimin tagging along with him.

 

“I’m so sorry about Taehyung,” Jimin began as he hung the clothes, “he’s just really protective over Jinnie-hyung.” Yoongi kind of felt that wasn’t the only case. Considering the fact that Taehyung never failed to mention Jimin in the presence of Seokjin. But he didn’t say anything. Yoongi hummed as he took off his shirt, then trying on the polo he was holding.

 

“And he kind of thought we were going to be family. My dad—he’s a member of the board—had set Jinnie-hyung and I for a, um, date before. So maybe Tae thought I was going to be a future Kim.” Yoongi frowned as he began buckling his belt.

 

“But don’t worry! You’re obviously better for him! You keep him grounded and still floating!” Yoongi’s frown only deepened. That last sentence made no sense. He watched Jimin’s back from the mirror as the younger fidgeted over the suit.

 

“It’s alright, Jimin-ssi. I don’t think Seokjin will leave me any time soon, what with the wedding just around the corner.” He uttered lightly, tone a little playful. Jimin turned around to face him and grinned.

 

“You still have to tell me how he proposed!”