2.

Jeongguk clocks out from the diner early on the coming Wednesday so he can be there when Taehyung arrives. While the guy seems nice enough, albeit strange through text, this still involves his son and his home, so in case this goes tits up, Jeongguk needs to be there.

“You didn’t have to finish work early for me, dad,” Yujin complains.

“You worried I might cramp your style?” Jeongguk jokes as he cracks open a beer and lets Yujin have the first sip, since he likes the foam.

“No it’s—” he pauses to slurp the froth before handing the bottle back, “—you know it’s not like that. I just don’t want you losing out on hours at work because of me.”

Jeongguk’s face softens at that, studying his son. It worries him sometimes how keen of an eye Yujin has. It’s not that he keeps things from Yujin, it’s not a secret that they’re not completely comfortable with money—Jeongguk has two jobs, that says it all. But he never openly expresses his money worries to him, that’s not the type of stress a kid should carry on their shoulders.

“Don’t worry about that, alright? Plus, psycho freak, remember?” Jeongguk takes a big sip of beer, thinking about how well it would go with some fried chicken.

“I’m so ready for this,” Yujin says confidently. “I’m gonna play the shit out of that guitar. I’ll be the one giving him lessons.”

Soon it reaches 5PM and there’s a knock at the door.

“I can’t do this. I’m gonna throw up,” Yujin breathes, dramatic. “Catch me, dad. I’m passing out.”

Jeongguk walks past him to go answer the door and there’s a clatter of a chair behind him.

Pulling the door open, a young guy stands there with his back turned to Jeongguk as he waves to a car pulling away from the house. There’s one guitar on his back and one in his hand. He’s dressed similarly to how he looked in the video he sent him, a tattered plaid shirt and jeans with more rips in them than denim.

He turns to face Jeongguk and oh.

Not the face he was expecting, honestly.

“Hey,” the guy greets. “I’m Taehyung.”

“Yeah. Hello,” Jeongguk returns, eloquent. “Come on in, make yourself at home. Yujin,” he calls, despite knowing his son is probably listening intently. He can’t embarrass him in front of a new person, there is some type of dad-code.

Yujin, despite the nervous wreck he was moments prior, waltzes out, cool as a cucumber. “Sup,” he nods and Jeongguk shakes his head to himself as he closes the door behind Taehyung.

“Nice to meet you, man,” Taehyung says back, glancing around the place. “I like the digs.” He looks between Jeongguk and Yujin. “Is your dad around?”

Yujin rolls his eyes. “God, don’t feed his ego,” he groans.

Jeongguk’s chest puffs out, more than pleased. His ego has definitely been fed.

“What?” Taehyung looks back at Jeongguk, looking him over. His eyes go wide. “Shut up. You’re the dad?”

“I am.”

Taehyung’s eyes turn back to Yujin. “Dude, I’m sorry,” he says, sounding beyond sincere. “School must suck for you when your dad looks like that .”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Yujin sighs.

“Like what?” Jeongguk goads, enjoying this far too much. “How do I look, Yujin?”

“Like an ass,” Yujin returns, giving him a sharp look before he turns his attention to Taehyung. “Can we play in the living room?”

But Taehyung’s once again staring at Jeongguk and if Jeongguk didn’t know any better, he’d say the guy was checking him out. “Yeah, sure,” he finally answers, kicking off his shoes.

“We didn’t really discuss payment,” Jeongguk says as he trails after the pair. The place isn’t big, everything open plan. The house in itself is only one story, something that Jeongguk could afford after his separation, but he’s worked his ass off to make it a nice place to live. So he appreciates Taehyung’s compliment on it.

“We can talk money after,” Taehyung assures, handing one guitar to Yujin while he takes the other from his back. “Don’t wanna shortchange you if you think I suck.”

Jeongguk appreciates that. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Yeah, couple of beers would be good,” Yujin answers and Taehyung laughs.

“You’re already over your limit for the night, I’m cutting you off,” Jeongguk returns. “Taehyung?”

Taehyung turns to look at him. “What?”

“Beer?”

He blinks over at Jeongguk. “For real?”

“Unless you’re underage,” Jeongguk questions. “How old are you?”

“23.”

“And you’re not driving, right?”

“No.”

Jeongguk nods. “So did you want one?”

“Uh, sure,” Taehyung agrees. “If that’s cool.”

“And for you?” Jeongguk nods to Yujin. “A juicebox?”

Yujin gives him the middle finger as Jeongguk heads into the kitchen.

“That’s seriously your dad?” he hears Taehyung ask as he digs through the fridge.

“Yeah, he’s chill.”

Jeongguk smiles to himself, bringing out a beer and a soda and setting them down on the coffee table between the two couches. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

“Thank you, sir,” Taehyung replies and Jeongguk feels his balls shrivel.

“Jeongguk is fine,” he reassures and Yujin mocks a gasp.

“Wait, you’re telling me your first name isn’t dad?”

Jeongguk mocks back a laugh and leaves the pair alone, staying close by just in case. He gets to work on making dinner, preparing the mix of egg and seasoned flour for the fried chicken.

From a young age, Jeongguk’s always found cooking to be therapeutic. While he’s had hobbies, nothing has ever felt as right as the way cooking does. It’s his dream one day to open up his own place; nothing big or flashy, just somewhere he can cook comfort food for a reasonable price. Which isn’t always the easiest feat in Seoul.

He’s making his way towards it, though. He likes what he does now, being the head cook at Aera’s Diner. He gets to make great food for (usually) great customers. But one day, he hopes to be able to have a place of his own and design a menu of his own. For now, he works as a line cook and a building labourer. The second job he’s not too fond of, but the pay is decent and he’s made some good contacts through it, so he can’t complain.

But this .

Listening to the oil start to fizzle as he heats up the skillet, the smell of herbs in the air as the battered chicken dries out on a wire rack—because the trick to the best fried chicken is letting it dry out before you fry it. This is what he loves to do. To cook.

As he works on dinner, sipping his lukewarm beer, Jeongguk can hear the pluck of guitar strings coming from the living room. It’s been about forty minutes into the first lesson and it sounds like Yujin is picking up on the basic chords already.

Jeongguk is finishing up with some dipping sauces when the pair enter the kitchen.

“Holy shit, it smells like pure heaven in here,” Taehyung exclaims, sniffing the air.

“Dad’s a chef,” Yujin informs and while Jeongguk isn’t technically a qualified chef, never even went to culinary school, he loves when Yujin tells people that he is.

“You guys all wrapped up?” Jeongguk asks over his shoulder.

“Yep.”

“How did it go?”

“Really good,” Taehyung says, making his way on over to watch what Jeongguk’s doing in a very bold move. “He’s gonna be an easy student, I can tell.” He nods to the yellow sauce. “What’s that?”

“Honey mustard,” Jeongguk answers, scraping the large bowl clean and into a smaller serving dish. He glances at Taehyung, watching him eye the chicken. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Taehyung looks up at him. “Absolutely,” he answers, no hesitance.

Jeongguk chuckles, finding the straightforwardness admirable. “Pull up a chair, I’m just plating up.” He’s never one to turn someone away from a home-cooked meal.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung says around a mouthful of food a couple of minutes later, sagging back against the chair. He looks at Yujin. “Oh my god .”

“I know, right?” Yujin says with a shake of his head. “Fast food fried chicken never hits the same.”

“How come you’re not the size of a house if you eat this good?” Taehyung demands.

Yujin wipes his mouth on a napkin. “I run track. Not because I like it, because I need it.”

After dinner, both Taehyung and Yujin wilted in their chairs, Jeongguk cleans up the mess. “Hope you boys enjoyed that.”

“I think that was the best meal I’ve ever had in my life,” Taehyung says quietly, making Jeongguk snort.

“Did you want the leftovers?” he offers. Jeongguk usually makes enough to pack in his lunch for work at the construction site, but he’s happy to give Taehyung some after all the ego-stroking and hype he’s given Jeongguk tonight.

“If it’s not an inconvenience,” Taehyung says. “Then yeah, absolutely.”

Food packed up, Yujin goes to collapse on the couch. “Bye, hyung,” he muffles into a cushion. “See you on Friday.”

“Later, dude,” Taehyung calls back as Jeongguk walks him to the front door.

“Hyung already, huh?” Jeongguk points out, amused. “Must have made quite the impression.”

Taehyung tugs on a battered pair of checkered slip-ons. “Yujin’s cool,” he nods, untucking the folded fabric behind his heel. “You’ve got a good kid.”

“Don’t I know it.” Jeongguk grabs his wallet from his back pocket. “So 50k we settled on, right?”

Taehyung rubs the back of his neck and Jeongguk feels a pit lodge in his stomach. “I don’t know…”

Jeongguk only took out the exact money from the ATM. “Oh, uh—”

“I feel like I should be paying you after that dinner,” Taehyung cuts in. “50 Gs might be too much, sir.”

Jeongguk cringes. “Enough with the sir, you’re undoing all the work you did when you thought I was Yujin’s brother,” he jokes, offering out the money. “Take it. He loses interest in these things quickly, but I have a good feeling about this one, so. Worth every penny.”

“You sure?” Taehyung looks hesitant to take the cash, so Jeongguk tucks it into the front pocket of his shirt.

“I’m sure.” The sound of an engine pulling up out front has Jeongguk peering around Taehyung’s shoulder to see who it is. It’s a flashy looking car, a Mercedes model. It looks like the same car that dropped Taehyung off. “Your ride?”

“Yep,” Taehyung answers, glancing over his shoulder too. He takes a step backward onto the porch. “Thanks again for the food, Jeongguk .”

Jeongguk nods, hand on the edge of the door. “Anytime. See you next week.” Just as he’s about to close the door, Taehyung speaks up again, still walking backward down the drive.

“You’re really Yujin’s dad? No bullshit?”

Jeongguk cracks a smile. “No bullshit.”

“Damn,” Taehyung hums, and this time he is definitely checking Jeongguk out. “Didn’t realise dads were allowed to be that hot.”

With that, Taehyung turns and ducks into the waiting car, shoving his guitars into the backseat as it pulls away. Jeongguk’s left to stand there, processing what was just said.

He closes the door slowly, blinking down at his hand on the handle.

Huh.

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