FINALLY. The Most Infuriating Oblivious Stupidly In Love People Ive Ever Seen

FINALLY. the most infuriating oblivious stupidly in love people i’ve ever seen

After the Applause (Ch. 7)

Header and linebreaks by @awrkives

Single Dad Jimin x Female OC

SUMMARY: Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

CW/tags: grief, prior loss of spouse/parent, comfort, explicit sex, secondhand embarrassment, sort of love triangle/web/rat's nest, fluff, cursing, dating apps, fuckboy friends, dancer Jimin, stubborn dad Jimin, stubborn pre-teen daughter, miscommunication, pining

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By Monday Sunnie was almost completely back to her normal exuberant self, but her round-the-clock caretaker Appa had simply ushered the illness from daughter to dad. He knew it for sure when walking her to school left him red-faced, breathless, and shivering. There was no use denying it, no choice except to call Hoseok and other staff to see who could cover his classes for at least today and tomorrow. The last thing he wanted to do was pass this onto his students, especially not with the recital rushing closer.

Besides, he could work on choreography for Taejoon’s idol group from home –that was a gig he didn’t want to pass off. He could really use the additional income this month. Rent was going up in two months and he’d been avoiding thinking about it because obviously he couldn’t upset their lives and move them somewhere cheaper. This was their home. It had been Subin’s home. He wouldn’t know where to hallucinate her in a new home where she’d never been before, as he did the whole afternoon he spent curled up on the couch, sweating through his fever. 

Turned out he didn’t even have the energy to make himself tea, certainly not to choreograph a routine. Once again, Jimin had vastly overestimated himself.

At the last minute he realized he was not sure he could make the walk to get Sun-young. Shit! It was a short list of friends he felt comfortable asking for a favor like that: Hoseok was already covering his classes, Jungkook wasn’t answering his phone, but Taehyung did, on the second ring, like he’d been waiting for a call from Jimin. He was happy to get her but he had promised to go with Seokjin for something and could he just take Sun-young along with him for that? It sounded to Jimin like he’d said to greet the Muppets for the disco party but that was probably not right. The fever made everything fuzzy right now.

But whatever, Taehyung and Seokjin would never take her anywhere unsafe, so that was perfect. He called Sun-young’s school to have them give Sunnie the message Uncle Tae would pick her up and then collapsed on the couch and stopped thinking about anything. The fever was miserably uncomfortable. He didn’t have any adult medicine for it in the house; he prided himself on not getting sick often but damn it would have been welcome right now. Maye anti-nausea too, his stomach cramped and complained even though he wasn’t hungry.

The whole afternoon passed in a blink. He didn’t realize he’d even fallen asleep and suddenly Sun-young’s feet were pounding down the hallway. She knew the code and let herself in, Taehyung and Seokjin right on her heels.

Seokjin called from the hall, “No offense, Jimin, but I’m keeping my distance. I can’t get a restaurant of people sick!”

“I could use a few days off work,” Taehyung joked. “Lay one on me.”

Jimin only grunted at him and eased himself up to a sitting position. Sun-young grimaced.

“You’re really sick, Appa.”

“Wonder how that happened,” Taehyung teased and nudged Sun-young. But she looked genuinely upset, and that last thing Jimin wanted was for her to feel guilty. It was part of being a dad. He didn’t want her to hide that she was sick next time.

“It’s a testament to how close we are together,” Jimin insisted, the words a croak from his throat. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thanks for keeping her this afternoon, Tae. Thanks, Jin.” He pushed up from the couch and did his best not to look wobbly. “OK, Sunnie, let’s figure out some dinner.”

“You sure you don’t want me to stick around and help?” Taehyung pressed.

“Nah, it’s fine, I’m good, just groggy because I’m waking up.”

“Ok… but hey man, call me if you need anything, ok? You know my schedule is flexible, I’m happy to help.”

Jimin thanked them both again and flinched when the door slammed shut behind them. The offers were sincere, he knew that, just like he rationally knew his friends did not mind covering his classes or helping him with his child. He had to believe that, because he knew he wouldn’t begrudge them the help. He loved to be helpful. But accepting help when he’d had to lean on them so much was hard. He didn’t feel like it was nearly balanced.

Belatedly he realized he should have asked Taehyung if he knew what was going on between Hanbyul and Jungkook. Taehyung was nosy, he probably knew exactly how long they’d been dating and how serious it was and where they met and the first time they kissed and everything.

Maybe it was better he hadn’t asked though. He didn’t know that he was in a good headspace right now to find out they’d been dating for months now and he was just dumb as a rock oblivious. Why wouldn’t Jungkook have told him? And honestly, wasn’t it right that Jungkook should have asked him first if he had feelings for Hanbyul before making his move? It was the right thing to do as friends.

“Appa are you ok?” Sunnie asked as he shuffled to the kitchen. 

He waved his hand at her. “Yeah yeah, I’m good.”

But she planted herself in front of him and reached up to feel his sweaty forehead.

“You’re really sick, Appa. I know what it was like. Go lay down and I can make my own dinner.”

“You’re nine.”

“So what? I can make some things! Are you hungry? I can make something for you too.”

“I’m not hungry,” he admitted. He hesitated. If he insisted on cooking for her, was this just another way in which he was failing to recognize that she was growing up and gaining independence? Or was this leaning on his daughter in an unhealthy way, expecting her to be another adult in the house?

“We have gimbap, I can eat that. Go sleep. I’ll do my homework after I eat.”

“Ok…” He hesitated. This felt like a parenting failure. “Just get me if you need anything… I’ll just be in my room. You won’t be bothering me.”

Sun-young gave him a serious, decisive node and then pointed her finger towards his bedroom. He’d been summarily dismissed. It made him laugh, which turned into an achy coughing fit, so he did what she said and went to lie down.

Time passed unmeasured, but eventually Jimin rose from his deep sleep to the sounds of murmuring female voices and clinking cookware. For a brief moment, he found himself lost in time to years ago, when his wife might be in the kitchen cooking dinner. Especially after Sun-young was born, they’d alternated day-night shifts since their newborn daughter demanded attention round the clock; she’d been a terrible sleeper. He’d usually taken the night shift because he liked it anyway. 

Just as quickly he landed back in the present time. He tried to push quickly and clumsily from the bed to find out who the hell was in his apartment with his daughter, when he heard a laugh that answered for him.

Hanbyul was here.

He slowed his step and glanced at himself in the mirror over his dresser. He looked fucked up. There was only so much he could do about it though, the sweaty pink shine wasn’t going away until the cold did. He brushed his fingers through his hair, trying to look devilishly disheveled. He was not sure that it worked. He changed his clothes quickly so at least he wouldn’t smell like stale sweat.

He pulled on his best smile as he leaned against the counter separating kitchen from dining and living room. Sun-young stood on a chair and peered through the lid of a deep pot. Hanbyul stood at the counter beside her with her loose sweater sleeves rolled up past her elbows, knife making quick work of an onion. Her hair was pulled up into a spiky high bun, a few wispy strands escaping to frame her face. Her eyes were red from the onions when she glanced up at Jimin. And smiled.

“Appa! How do you feel?” Sun-young asked very seriously again, her laughter from a moment ago deftly suppressed.

“I’m..” He wanted to say good but he didn’t want Hanbyul to take his appearance as normal. “I’ve been better,” he admitted. “But better since this morning… I think…” The scent of the onions tickled his nose and he turned quickly away to sneeze into his elbow. Suddenly Hudu leapt down from the couch and vaulted over to Jimin, jumping up against his legs, like he’d been sleeping too deeply to notice Jimin was even there. 

“We’re making samgyetang,” Hanbyul assured him, as if he couldn’t have figured that out by the gingery smell of the broth. His nose was too stuffy to have caught it from the bedroom, but when Hanbyul lifted the lid on the pot so she and Sun-young could look inside, just enough of it managed to reach his sinuses for him to groan. He had no appetite but for that, he could develop one.

Hanbyul’s raised eyebrows made embarrassment rush through him.

“Oh, uh, it smells good. My nose is all f– messed up, but I could smell that– why are you here?” His voice cracked on the last note after croaking out the rest of it. Quickly he added, “You’re always welcome but we’re sick! I don’t want to get you sick too.”

Hanbyul shared a smile with Sun-young, as if they’d predicted and discussed this response. Jimin tried to crouch to pet Hudu, still spinning around his legs, but his body was too achy. He tried to get Hudu to jump up into his arms, but the dog wouldn’t. A stalemate in which neither of them was happy.

“I appreciate your concern but I think I’ll be all right. I have such a strong immune system, I rarely get sick. Don’t worry about me.”

“I asked her to come help me make soup for you,” Sun-young added.

“I see but– it’s very thoughtful but–” He spun quickly away to deliver a coughing fit into his elbow. Hudu was worried enough to scratch at his shin.

It meant he didn’t see Hanbyul come around from the kitchen until she touched his arm and held out a mug of steaming yuzu jelly tea.

“Please go rest more. Sun-young and I are just fine here.”

“She taught me how to mince garlic!”

“With a knife?!” Jimin cried, barely more than a wheeze of words.

Hanbyul tutted at him –tutted– “She’s old enough to learn how to safely cook things! I was much younger and still have all my fingers. Now back to bed, and make sure to drink that tea.”

She was so firm about it, he found his legs obeying. He stopped just through the door though and looked back. Hanbyul slid back around the counter and looked at whatever Sun-young was showing her on the counter. He knew that hopeful smile of Sunnie’s, that desperate need for acknowledgement. She beamed at Hanbyul’s praise for whatever it was. Together they lifted the lid and slid things in, four hands working together, and put the lid back on. The pot belched at them though, knocking the top askew. Both girls erupted with giggles as Hanbyul stirred and replaced the lid. Hudu sat in the middle of the rooms, as if he needed to see everyone at once. He watched Jimin and something in his eye made it look like he was about to bark and tattle on Jimin for not being in bed yet.

She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t need to be here. It  was asking too much, for her to come into a sick apartment and make soup for him. Sunnie had done the asking and Hanbyul had come and he owed her so much.

Hudu barked.

“Go to bed, Park Jimin!” Hanbyul called, and Sunnie giggled and pointed, chanting, “Go go! We’ll get you when it’s ready!” 

“Traitor,” Jimin mumbled to Hudu. Hudu stretched out to nap, conscience clear.

He lay in bed, as ordered. He sat up to sip the tea until only the dredges were left. He lay back down and listened to the crescendo of giggles across the apartment. They wove through his dozy dreams, swaddling him, rocking him in the rhythm of their conversation. He dreamed of seashell wind chimes on the balcony of a beachside bungalow; he dreamed of a crackling fireplace in front of three mugs of hot cocoa; he dreamed of a cool breeze caressing his skin with whispers: dance on, dance on.

He awoke to silence. The window was black with night, only by the light from the hallway could he find his phone in the sheets: 8:30. Time to get Hanbyul ready for bed. His body ached as he pushed himself up from the sweaty embrace of his bed. He felt like garbage, but slightly warmed over garbage, thanks to his nap-companion Hudu, who had jumped up into bed with him at some point. Garbage that could at least get his daughter’s school things ready for tomorrow, see her to bed, shower, and then collapse again. Maybe eat some soup, if there was any left. 

He forgot to check his hair and face as he stumbled into the hall. Two figures sitting at the end of it made him do a double take. It wasn’t the ghost of Subin, though, and he wasn’t confused by a memory this time, only confused to see them there: Sun-young and Hanbyul kneeling in front of the shrine they kept for Subin by the narrow window she had always joked was for growing a single flower in. So they did grow a single flower in it, though Jimin often forgot to water it so it tended to be more dead than alive.

He paused as Sun-young’s voice carried, “Sometimes I don’t remember very much about her.”

Hanbyul made a sympathetic humming noise.

“I was only maybe six years old when she died? I just remember suddenly she lived in the hospital and Appa took me there to visit her and I didn’t like being there because it smelled bad and everyone was sad a lot.”

“It’s ok not to remember everything,” Hanbyul said gently. “You were very little and sometimes remembering someone we’ve lost can hurt a lot, I think, so our minds… hm, maybe they wrap a blanket around the memory to keep it safe for another time when it won’t hurt so much.”

“Maybe that’s why Appa doesn’t talk about her very much,” Sun-young said and Jimin felt a knife in his ribs. “It makes him really sad.” Jimin felt like they did talk about her a lot. Wasn’t Subin in almost everything they said and did? But less so lately, and that was… hard.

“I can’t imagine how hard it is to lose someone you love that much. You both are very strong. I’m glad you have each other.”

He knew he shouldn’t keep listening to this and yet he couldn't tear himself away. Was it really so bad to eavesdrop? He decided Sun-young was right; despite the shrine, they did not talk about Subin very often. He always feared speaking of her would only remind Sunnie of what she lost, what she didn’t have. It sure did for Jimin.

“I remember her hair was really soft and I would wrap it around my fingers when we read books together,” Sun-young said. “I just learned to read when she got sick and I read books to her in the hospital. She liked Hello Banana Moon and Cloud Bread. Do you know those books?”

“I don’t.”

“I think I still have them. I’ll let you borrow them so you can read them. They're really good but I haven’t read them in a long time. Maybe we can read them together.”

“I’d like that a lot,” Hanbyul said and Jimin could feel her smile even though he saw only the back of her head. The girls sat so close together, Subin’s smiling face beaming down at them from the shrine. He knew where those two books were: tucked into the cupboard beneath the candles and figurines and Subin’s photos. He’d tucked them there when she died because it was too much to read the words to Sun-young that ought to be in Subin’s voice. 

But Sun-young wanted to share those stories her mother had taught her to read with Hanbyul.

The emotion was difficult to breathe around, a pair of fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, a rising tide blocking his throat. 

“I don’t remember much,” Hanbyul said. “I didn’t know your eomma very well but I would see her in the hall or the mail room. She was always very polite and thoughtful. She would hold the door open if my arms were full. If someone left trash out, she would take on the task of cleaning it up, even though it wasn’t hers. One year there was ice on the stairs and our neighbor Ma Gurim who is high in years nearly slipped. Your mother called the building manager and wouldn’t stop calling until they came out to take care of the ice.”

Sun-young giggled and said, “Appa says I have her stubbornness.”

“Her resilience, I think it is. Her brightness. She seemed like she could do anything, just like you.”

“It’s not very fair that she died.”

“No, Sun-young. It’s really, really not fair.”

Sun-young let out a heavy sigh and rested her head against Hanbyul’s shoulder. If it made Hanbyul uncomfortable, Jimin couldn’t tell from her body language. After a moment she wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulder and rubbed her arm.

Jimin didn’t want to disturb them. He felt like he would be. Anyway, he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t have said anything better than Hanbyul had and her words lingered with him as he tiptoed away to the kitchen. 

It was too much to ask of a woman, wasn’t it? To come into a house that had lost one and take over being a partner and a mother. Not that it mattered anyway because Hanbyul was seeing Jungkook now but… well, it would have been too much to ask of her and that’s why it was for the best. Probably she felt incredibly awkward talking to Sun-young about her dead mother because it was an uncomfortable topic and while obviously she had navigated it beautifully, it was too much to ask. 

The kitchen had been cleaned so thoroughly there was no evidence of cooking. He opened the fridge with a start in his heart that maybe they had eaten all the soup and left none for him.

“What are you doing?” Hanbyul demanded behind him. “Shoo, get out of my kitchen! Go sit down.”

“It’s my kitchen,” he glowered, and playfully demanded, “Where’s my soup?”

She squeezed behind him and bodied him away to open the oven door where a stone bowl of the soup rested, still warm. The scent of it carried such a strong sense of strength and health and rest that it nearly brought tears to his eyes. That’s it, that’s the only reason his eyes were misty.

“I’ll carry it for you, go sit.”

“It’s time for Sun-young to get ready for–”

“I know, Appa, I’m already in my pajamas. I just need to brush my teeth,” Sun-young glowered just like him, arms crossed at his doubt. “I’ll make you tea and then go right to bed.”

“We have to get your backpack ready–”

“We did that,” Hanbyul assured him. “She wants to eat school lunch tomorrow or I said I would pack her one.”

“Unnie even ironed my uniform,” Sun-young added.

Hanbyul looked embarrassed by that and clarified, “With you both sick lately they just sat in the laundry basket for too long. Sunnie told me about her fundraiser and demonstrations.”

“Appa, can unnie help us make the rice cakes? We can teach her how to make them really nice. I know Appa isn’t a good cook but he really knows how to make the best rice cakes.”

Jimin felt like he was wrapped up in a whirlwind between them as he dove into the soup Hanbyul placed before him. They’d carried on all evening without him, and Hanbyul even had Sun-young ready for the day tomorrow. He didn’t have to worry about a thing.

“I can walk Sunnie to school too, if that’s helpful,” Hanbyul offered. 

Jimin shook his head and argued, “It’s not the direction of your office.”

“You know that?” Hanbyul asked, surprised. 

“I see the direction you walk, it’s not mysterious.”

She grinned and insisted, “It’s not too far out of the way though. I’ll just make my coffee at home before I go instead of stopping by the cafe. It’s better for my wallet anyway.”

“I’m sure I’ll be better by the morning.”

Sun-young put her hands on her hips and said to Habyul, “I think both my parents are stubborn.”

“There was no other way you could be,” Hanbyul nodded and it made Sun-young giggle. “It’s a good thing.”

“Is it?” Jimin teased.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that and go brush my teeth,” Sunnie said and stuck her tongue out at him. 

How strange to feel like a cared-for guest in his own home. Hudu had moved to the living room since Jimin left the bed and stretched out in a new nap across Jimin’s slippers, several of his toys strewn across the rug. The TV was off but low music played through the speakers.

“I’ll turn that off,” Hanbyul realized, heading for it. “Sunnie was trying to teach me to dance.”

“You seemed to do fine at the club.”

Immediately she covered her face and sighed, “Let’s never talk about that again.”

“No problem,” Jimin said and meant it. He’d like if they could never talk about him going to check on her the next morning and Jungkook opening the door as well.

While he slurped the soup and Hanbyul fiddled with the CD player and Sun-young sang loudly to herself in the bathroom as the water ran and Hudu decided to take a break from napping and work the squeaker out of his toy, Jimin got a very foreign feeling: wholeness. He felt like he was home. He was home, but he felt like it quite suddenly, like he rarely had done since the very first day he’d come home while Subin remained in hospital.

Sun-young threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek and bid him goodnight. Hanbyul followed her to say goodnight and turn the light off and for a moment Jimin almost told them where the storybooks were, but couldn’t quite bring himself to it. It felt dangerous to, like if he offered her one more step further into their lives, he’d never be able to let her go. 

Could she really co-exist with the memory of Subin? Was Sun-young really ok with that?

How could it seem so natural to watch her turn the bathroom light off and take Sunnie a glass of water and then scoop Hudu up for a snuggle. She ought to collapse onto the couch in exhaustion after an evening of parenting. And Jimin would collapse next to her, and drag her into his lap so they could stretch out and find something worthwhile to watch on the TV. She’d fall asleep there and he’d wake her gently later to move to–

Shit, he had to stop thinking like this. He had to. It was becoming too tragic to pine for his neighbor too late. He’d fucked up and only his fever-riddled brain was willing to admit how badly. Very badly. As she carried Hudu with her to sit in the chair next to him, Jimin had the unfortunate understanding that he might be very much in love with Hanbyul and been trying to hide it from himself.

I never know what I’m doing but you make me feel like I can figure it out. I think you belong here. Why don’t you just stay?

“I’m sorry if I massively overstepped tonight,” she said, completely at odds with his internal tragedy. 

“No. No, of course not. You can’t overstep but you didn’t have to do all this–” He broke off to cough into his elbow –away from her. If he got her sick, he’d never get over the guilt.

“I’ve told you before, it’s not a big deal. I love spending time with Sun-young and I’m glad you were able to get some rest. I’m serious about walking her to school in the morning too, unless you’d rather have one of your other friends.”

“I’m sorry if she made you uncomfortable talking about… Subin.”

Hanbyul’s sincere confusion was so endearing that he felt a twinge of guilt, saying Subin’s name just as he thought damn, Hanbyul really is pretty, isn’t she? It’s crazy she never went into acting or modeling.

“Why would that make me uncomfortable?” Hanbyul asked. “I’m flattered she felt like telling me about her mother. She’s a part of you and Sun-young forever. It’s unfair she can’t be here to take care of you while you’re sick and take care of Sun-young, but I hope I honored her by stepping in for an evening.”

Jimin nodded, briefly without words. 

Hanbyul gently touched the back of his hand and added, “I’m truly sorry for your loss, Jimin. I don’t know if I ever said that.”

“You did.”

“Well, good. And please don’t think you or Sun-young are ever a burden when you need help. No one is meant to do everything alone and–” She broke off as he suddenly flipped his hand, catching her palms against his. “--and I’m really happy to be here,” she said, barely a murmur as she stared at their hands. Jimin too, unsure how that had happened. It had been impulsive. It was the wrong move.

He drew in a deep, ragged breath and she pulled her hand away. He shouldn’t have. She was dating his friend. He couldn’t say he regretted it. He should have wound their fingers together, kept her there. 

But what would he say? I care about you more. Quit Jungkook and be with me. I’m sorry I was slow but it’s scary, you see? I didn’t think I could do this again…

He pushed back from the table and she leapt up as Hudu jumped down from her lap. She reached for the dishes but Jimin shooed her away.

“I can manage them.”

The fact she didn’t argue seemed telling. She gathered Hudu’s things into her bag and slid her phone into her pocket and Jimin felt an absolute dread that she was leaving. He knew he’d overstepped with the touch. She had to think so, because it had felt insanely intimate to him, just that moment of their palms touching. Her cheeks flushed and he feared it was with anger.

He started to say he was sorry, but Hanbyul spoke over him with a smile that seemed sincere, “I’ll come by to get Sun-young at 7:30. Don’t argue about it, please. I told her I would so it’s very important to me that I keep my word.”

“All right then. Thank you. Goodnight, Hudu,” he said, scratching the dog’s head. “Goodnight, Hanbyul.”

“Goodnight.”

It felt awkward. He felt it. He’d made her feel awkward, and after all she’d done for him. But he didn’t know what to say to fix it, and he already felt like shit anyway, so this one time he kept his mouth shut and just locked the door behind her.

The apartment felt empty with her gone, just him and sleeping Sun-young left, like the movie had ended and there just credits rolling. There wasn’t even music playing anymore.

Jimin knew he ought to get back to his apartment quickly. It was bad enough he’d had to call in another favor, but it was only fair he cover Hoseok’s classes now that he was sick, and Sun-young had science club, and sometimes things just seemed impossible for a single parent.

But walking past the corner florist made him pause. And think. And think. He was a thinker, a planner, he shouldn’t do things impulsively because then things could go wrong and you weren’t prepared.

But things went wrong even if you carefully planned. Time was unknown and unsympathetic and always running out.

The apartment had just felt so empty without her in it, the chair she’d sat in pulled out as if still waiting for her to take her seat again. He felt like he was waiting for Hanbyul to get home from work. One evening wasn’t enough.  

Was it worth the risk of losing a friendship over? Two friendships?

Park Jimin did something he never did: he let impulse take over.

He bought the flowers, a big pretty bouquet of purple and pink and white because they looked like stars and that was her name. Hanyul: Big Star.

He ignored the mailroom for now, because he was on a mission. He was going to shoot his shot. If it caused a rift with Jungkook… hopefully it could be mended. Probably it would cause only a rift between himself and Hanbyul because she’d be gracious about his unwelcome feelings and then he would lose something that was devastating him to have so little of anyway.

“Hold the elevator!” Jungkook called and dove inside.

For a moment they looked at each other, and then Jungkook’s face broke into a wide grin and he asked, “Who are the flowers for?”

“Sunnie.”

“Ah. Right.” 

They’d forgotten to push the button, so Jungkook did.

“You here to see Hanbyul?” Jimin asked, wishing it wasn’t true.

“Yeah.”

“Ah.” Silence as the elevator shimmied to life. “So uh… that. How did that happen? Is it serious?”

“Is what serious?”

Leave it to Jungkook to make Jimin spell it out, the ass: “You and Hanbyul.”

“We’ve got a real connection. Why do you ask? You in love with her or something?”

Thank fuck for his careful control of his face. 

Jimin gave him a playful grin and assured him, “No, no, I’m just looking out for her. I’m just asking if you’re serious about her.”

“You should fight me for her,” Jungkook grinned back.

Jimin’s expression twitched as he said, “I’m not… I’m not fighting you for her.” Gone was his foolish plan to sweep her out from under Jungkook.

Fuck, what an awful choice of words.

“Well not physically, I’d beat your ass,” Jungkook laughed. “I mean confessionally.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Are you at least going to give her a choice? I mean, I’m pretty serious competition, it’d be pretty hard for anyone to– but hey, maybe it’s your lucky day,” Jungkook said and slapped him on the shoulder. 

“A choice… between us?” Jimin’s heart leapt into his throat with hope. Probably Jungkook was just fucking with him, but if he was actual casual enough to give Hanbyul a no-strings choice… well, would she really choose the single dad over hot young bachelor Jungkook… but… but maybe Sunnie could help him make a powerpoint and she’d find it charming…

Jungkook sighed, “You don’t like that idea? That sucks. Listen, don’t break her heart or anything, ok? She’s a really good friend of mine and–”

“No, stop, that’s what I was going to say!” Jimin forced a laugh, stepping off the elevator after him. “I just wanted to say I’m happy for you and that I–”

“Well I’m not dating her but maybe you should before someone else does, if you’re so bothered by it.”

Before Jimin could fathom a response, Jungkook pushed the buzzer at Hanbyul’s door.

“What, what do you mean you’re not–”

The door dragged open to reveal Hanbyul –in shortie shorts and a t shirt with a faded Minnie Mouse on it and stripey flower socks. Her expression shifted at once from neutral to surprise as she stared at Jimin.

Jungkook plucked a phone charger from her hand.

“Hey Hanbyul, thanks, Jimin’s got something to say to you, bye.”

He promptly turned and walked back towards the elevator.

**

“Uh…”

It took Hanbyul half a minute longer than it should have to realize Jungkook had retrieved his abandoned phone charger and departed. Her attention remained leveled at Jimin’s face in an attempt to not die of embarrassment: she’d just woken up from a gloriously braless and pantsless nap to a message from Jungkook saying by process of elimination he thought he’d left his phone charger at her place and was on his way over. Her offer to leave it at Jimin’s was too late; he never responded and she had time to do nothing but drag on shorts before the buzzer at her door revealed Jungkook. 

And Jimin.

He looked so much healthier after his illness –thanks in part, she hoped, to the soup. He looked even better since she’d seen him, when she picked up Sun-young and walked her to school before peeling off to haul ass to work. 

And then Hanbyul spent the next two days avoiding the Parks because she wanted it too much. It brought her too much happiness to be over there, doing simple domestic things with them like that. It was torture not to kiss Jimin’s flushed forehead and brush his hair back and really take care of him. It was unkind to herself and possibly to Sun-young to let herself get so close to the little girl who did not deserve to lose anyone else from her life.

The recruiter had contacted her via email and wanted to schedule an official interview; he promised to call her soon. Hanbyul had done a freaking out dance around the apartment. Then whipped her bra off and fallen into bed for a stress nap.

And now Jimin was standing at her door, seeing her in this disheveled space, holding out a bouquet of beautiful purple flowers. She did not understand and only took them because he seemed to want her to hold them for him.

“They’re for you,” he explained, as if she was an idiot (she was.) “To thank you.”

“Jimin, I told you, you have to stop thanking me. I’m going to start taking it as an insult.”

“Wha?”

“You didn’t have to get me flowers. But they’re beautiful, so thank you.” She loved how gracious that sounded, as if she could be cool about getting flowers, as if it happened all the time (it didn’t.)

“They’re stars, like your name. I don’t know what they’re actually called,” he admitted, laughing at himself.

“Thank you, I’ll put them in water right away.” She stepped into the apartment, expecting that was goodbye, but Hudu foiled her plan, darting into Jimin’s arms –or maybe Jimin had already wedged his body in to follow her through. That brat (Hudu, but also maybe Jimin.) 

“One second!” she called over her shoulder and disappeared into her bedroom to frantically drag on a sweatshirt. It was going to be weird if she completely changed, wouldn’t it? But she was so unkempt. Would it be weird to put on pants? 

She was taking too long. She hurried back to find Jimin going through her cabinets, looking for a vase. The only one was a heavy crystal thing she had borrowed from her mother a year ago because her mother had been grievously disappointed the visit before that Hanbyul didn’t have flowers on her table.

“Perfect, right Hudu?” He tossed a smile down to the pup, and then over his shoulder at her, and she felt simultaneously like a queen and a bug. He looked like that, smiling at her when she looked like this. It didn’t make her feel better that he’d recently looked sick. He had been adorable.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said.

“How are you? Not coming down with anything?”

Actually she’d had a slight headache all day and her throat felt scratchy that morning, but she wasn’t going to tell him that and make him feel guilty for accepting the help. It was probably nothing. A sudden onset of spring allergies or something.

“I’m good.”

She joined him at the counter but let him do the work of untying the bouquet, snipping the stems with her kitchen scissors and arranging them artfully in the vase.

“Wow, you’re really good at that.”

“I learned some arranging tricks when I was younger because it was cheaper to buy bulk flowers and make our own arrangements for performers than buying the bouquets.”

Her phone rang –a godawful thing because she never had the ringer on and didn’t even know what it was set to– and she gasped as she reached for it, but it was only her sister so she sent it to voicemail. She couldn’t risk missing this call!

“Ouch,” Jimin laughed. “Who deserved that?”

“My sister… I’ll call her back later.”

“Oh I don’t mean to stop you–”

“No, she’s calling to ask about–” Hanbyul broke off. Was this the sort of premature news one gave a neighbor-acquaintance-friend? “I might curse it,” she admitted.

Jimin raised an eyebrow but kept his gaze on the flowers he futzed with as he asked carefully, “Curse what? Not your um, relationship with Jungkook I hope?”

“I have a job interview– uh, wait, what relationship with Jungkook–?”

“A job interview! A new job? Or the promotion at your current place?”

“I don’t have a relationship with Jungkook,” she said. “A friendship, but that’s all.”

Jimin nodded and smiled. He pushed the vase towards the center of her counter and assured her, “It’s none of my business.”

“Why, did he tell you something else?”

“No, he said the same,” Jimin shrugged. 

“When we went out clubbing he had too much to drink and crashed here. Apparently he takes a phone charger with him when he goes clubbing in case he goes home with someone.” Hanbyul shook her head. She couldn’t imagine leading that kind of life. He had only laughed at her advice: maybe stop having sex the same day you meet a woman if you want deep and lasting romance so badly! Then he’d asked how deep and lasting romance with Jimin was going and she had threatened to block him. 

“That he does.”

“You met someone that night too,” Hanbyul recalled –in painstaking detail. She tried to be light as she teased, “Any exciting dating plans? Someone you met on the app?” She had on the exact same expression she knew she wore when trying to make bad news sound like good news at work to the higher ups.

He hissed through his teeth and admitted, “I haven’t even finished setting up my profile. And if you’re teasing me about who I think you are, she’s on the funding board for a scholarship group my dance school works with so I had to play nice. I didn’t realize you’d sneak away on me.”

“I didn’t sneak.”

“Hm.”

“I was way too drunk to be sneaking,” she admitted. “I don’t go out much like that.”

“Me neither.”

“It was fun though.”

“Would have been more fun if we’d actually gotten to dance,” Jimin said. Hanbyul could have sworn there was a note of longing to his voice.

“You don’t want to dance with me,” she assured him. “I can’t dance at all.”

“That’s ok.”

“No, I mean it. Your daughter suggested maybe I’d do better at yoga and asked if I understand what the beat of the music is.”

Jimin laughed and covered his eyes, “Oops. She’s a sharp-shooter sometimes… But no one is a lost cause. I saw you dancing at club and you did fine. Anyone can learn with a little help, I believe it.”

What were they talking about it again?

“Maybe next time. If there is a next time.”

“I hope there’s a next time,” Jimin said. He looked to the side in thought, then shook his head and admitted, “Honestly I was kicking myself. I don’t know why I hadn’t already introduced my friends to you. Of course you get along with all of them.”

“Why would you introduce your neighbor?” she laughed. Try to keep it light. This conversation felt strange for a reason she couldn’t quite put her thumb on. It felt serious, like an air of goodbye had settled around them in a haze. 

She hadn’t even done the interview yet!

“You’re not just my neighbor,” Jimin corrected. “Ma Gurim is just my neighbor. You’re at least a close friend.”

“At least,” she immediately repeated. 

He looked surprised by his own word choice, panicked almost, and clarified, “Not just anyone will come over and take care of me and my daughter when I’m sick.”

“Get over yourself, it’s not an inconvenience,” she teased to cover the way her heart fluttered high in her chest. At least a close friend.

“Get over myself,” he repeated with a laugh. “It’s true, I have an ego sometimes.” He ran his fingers through those blond locks. 

Her phone rang. What timing! She wanted to follow that train of thought: what did he mean by ego? Why was he smiling like that? He wasn’t flirting with her, was he? He must still be sick.

But interview terror temporarily outweighed Jimin confusion, and she answered her phone before it could ring a third time. Jimin’s eyes got big and he shirked his shoulders as if he shared her excitement and didn’t leave.

The recruiter was straight-forward but polite on the phone. There was interest in her resume and application letter. They would like to meet her for an afternoon of interviews. There would be several rounds for this more senior position, she must understand the selection process was thorough to ensure a good fit, which date from a list of available would work for her? Did she have any professional references she could provide for contact? 

Hanbyul flew around the kitchen but Jimin was the one to find the pen and paper for her. She rattled off two former colleagues she had already messaged about acting as references. She could make the date work –though it worried her, taking time off from her current job to interview, like they would know she was up to something and fire her, and then she might not get the new job, and have no job.

By the time she hung up, her heart was racing as if she’d been interviewed already. She hoped the man couldn’t tell over the phone.

“A new job,” Jimin said. “That’s… exciting.”

“It might be,” she agreed. “If I get it.”

“They’d be fucking crazy to snooze on you. Where is it? You didn’t say…”

“Oh, well the company has several branches. One is here but there’s also one near my parents, in the town I grew up in. My sister’s about to have her baby, you know, and–”

“Right, yes, I understand.” He was nodding a lot.

“So now I have an interview,” she breathed out.

“It can be hard to live away from family,” he continued. “I understand why you’d want to move back near them.”

Yes, there were plenty of reasons to go. She had told the recruiter her childhood hometown was her branch preference. It should be her branch preference. Her parents were getting up in years and she would want to know her sister’s baby. She’d set out for Seoul years ago and what did she really have to show for it? Hudu was not an anchor.

“What made you stay here instead of moving back to be near your parents?” she asked.

“Ah, it was a hard choice,” he admitted. “They wanted me to. Sometimes I’ve wondered if it was the right choice. But I have family here too, so does Sunnie. Subin’s parents are here and I didn’t want her to lose that connection with her mother’s family. But also Taehyung and Jungkook and Hoseok, Yoongi, everyone, they’re here. They’re my family too. We have a home, I have my dance school, Sunnie loves her school.”

“That all makes sense.”

“For a long time I wondered if I just stayed here because it’s where I was before… but this is my life. Everything, almost everyone I care about is here.”

Hanbyul was the one nodding a lot now. She looked at the pretty flowers Jimin had brought her, just to say thanks for doing a thing she wanted to do all the time. She knew with absolute clarity that she couldn’t go into a job interview without knowing once and for all whether she too had a family anchoring her here. For a moment the image of her with him felt so real she could reach out and touch it. She needed to know if the illusion would dissolve at the brush of her fingertips. 

It was crazy to wonder. It was wistful thinking. She was crazy fucking delusional.

But she had to know for sure and if there was nothing, if she was completely imagining the flirting, if he just wasn’t ready or wasn’t interested in welcoming her specifically into his life well… well that was good to know. 

“I don’t have a relationship with Jungkook,” she said, feeling like someone else was speaking the words. “But um, I did date Namjoon for a little bit.”

Jimin’s brow pinched in confusion as he repeated, “Namjoon? You already know Namjoon? When did you date–”

“Recently,” she admitted.

Jimin’s eyebrows raised before he said slowly, “Ohhhh. No, really? You’re the woman who… at the club, that’s why…”

“I guess that’s me.” She twisted her mouth, not sure what to say about Jimin knowing her by action. Why was she admitting this again?! “I, um… it wasn’t serious, at least I didn’t think so. It was nice, I mean he’s nice, he’s a good guy, but it just didn’t…” She gestured, wishing Jimin would finish the sentence for her and read her mind. Alas, he did not.

“You just ended it that day we went clubbing.”

“I’d been putting it off. I sort of didn’t know if there was even anything to end, I mean we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend or anything, we only went on a few dates really but– I admit, I didn’t handle it well, I should have called it off earlier. I didn’t know what to do because…”

She hated that she couldn’t read Jimin’s mind either. His expression was inscrutable. 

“I have feelings for someone else,” she said and felt like a good ten years of her life drained away with the words leaping from her tongue. She didn’t feel in control of that tongue. “I thought it would be better to meet someone else and move past those feelings.” She swallowed and cleared her throat. Her nose was getting stuffy. “But it didn’t work and it wasn’t fair to Namjoon.”

“This someone else doesn’t return your feelings?” 

She studied his face, desperate to tell if he understood what she was saying. She didn’t think she could be any more transparent, it would kill her. But she had to be. There wasn’t room for error and even though he was watching her so carefully right now, leaning forward, mouth open in that thoughtful pout he had, she couldn’t tell if he understood. She needed him to understand. She could be brave.

“No,” she admitted. “At least I don’t think so.”

“How could he not?” Even just that, even if he said or felt nothing else, Hanbyul felt warmed to her soul. 

Her smile flickered as she tried to joke, “I know, I’m a catch! But I’m still honored just to be neighbor Han–” He stepped forward suddenly and caught her face, cutting her off with a kiss. His lips pressed to hers, the softest caress, softer than her wildest dreams. A second kiss followed, harder, more certain, but still unhurried, like he had all afternoon to spend dragging that plush lower lip of his against hers. He kissed the ten years back into her lungs and then some; she felt sunlight seep from his fingertips into her jaw. She was drowning in him.

“He does return your feelings, Hanbyul,” he murmured, their noses brushing. “He’s just an idiot.”

“He’s not an idiot,” she argued. “He’s… careful.”

“So careful he may have missed his chance.”

What a silly fear from a silly, silly man. She slid her hands slowly up his chest, curious and shy at the strong curve of muscle firm behind the fabric. His neck was so warm beneath her palms. It felt scandalous to touch him so much, to hold him so close, to feel his hands ghost down to her waist, his fingertips nudging her closer.

“It’s not too late at all,” she whispered. “Not unless…” Hudu’s cold nose poked her calf and she startled. Leave it to her dog to nose in on the most romantic moment of her life because he couldn’t stand whispering.

“Unless what?” Jimin asked cautiously, as he leaned away to look in her face. Hudu barked and Jimin’s serious expression cracked into a smile as Hudu leapt up and scratched at his thigh for attention. As if demanding ok now what about me, where’s my kiss? 

God Jimin was even more beautiful up close, and now she knew what those lips felt like pressed to hers, and no words could do them justice. It didn’t seem real. Even his proximity didn’t seem real. It made her forget what she was saying until he threw a toy from the counter to distract Hudu and then pretended like they hadn’t had that interruption.

“Unless what?” he repeated.

“I just told you that I dated your friend. We, um, slept together….” Her face felt like it was on fire from the combination of kiss and confession. Double confession. Not the greatest combination of confessions.

Jimin actually rolled his eyes and sighed, “Yeah, I figured as much, I don’t need a play by play. But I kind of have a past too. I was married and she died. I have a daughter.”

“I know that.”

“And that’s not a dealbreaker for you?”

“No, of course not,” Hanbyul said, not understanding how it could be. 

“Then why would your past be a dealbreaker for me?”

“Well, it’s a very recent past…”

He shook his head, grinning, his earring dangling, and laughed, “I don’t care.”

“Really?”

“I think people are lucky if they get one chance at happiness in life. If I get another chance… I’m not going to let anything get in the way of it. Definitely not jealousy about you dating someone else before me. I can only be mad at myself for waiting so long, right?”

The magnitude of what he’d said was not lost on her. Another chance at happiness. That was… big. Bigger than a little crush, certainly bigger than anything casual thing she and Namjoon had talked about. For Jimin to speak so openly and optimistically about a future with her only moments after kissing her… 

She did it, she stole another kiss. She wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of her happiness, either. 

Then she gasped and laughed into her hand, “God, the first time you kiss me and I’m dressed like this!”

“I like it,” he immediately argued. “It’s cute. You’re very cute dressed like this.”

“I was taking a nap waiting for that call–”

He brushed the hair tenderly back from her face and instantly silenced her. The self-deprecation died on her lips because he looked at her like that. His fondness was transparent. How could she not feel radiant? Surely he’d never looked at her like that before, she couldn’t have missed it. The light touch of his fingers sent a shiver down her spine. Park Jimin was a dangerous charmer and somehow she was the object of his affection.

Impossible.

“Hanbyul,” he said her name lowly.

“Mm-hm.”

“Your face is very warm.”

“I’m…” She trailed off and pouted that he would make her say it. “I’m flustered.”

“I think you have a fever.”

“No, I don’t…”

“Are you sure you feel well?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Really.” He pressed his cold hands to her cheeks and her forehead and her neck and she flinched, the muscles there stiff.

He narrowed his eyes at her and accused, “Did I get you sick and you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s probably just allergies.” She felt a jolt of worry. Would her being sick cause Jimin extraordinary distress because his wife had died? 

He cradled her face. He looked at her so sweetly. 

And ordered, “Get your buns to bed. It’s my turn to take your child for the evening. I’ll bring you stew.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t cook it. I’ll order it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insisted. “And not just because I got you sick but because taking care of you isn’t a burden to me either. It’s what good neighbors do.”

“Jimin!”

He snickered and then kissed her again, as if he couldn’t believe they did that now either. She was completely cowed into obeying his order to bed. He cared about her. He wanted to take care of her. And also to tease her, what a brat! She adored him.

“We’ll talk more about this later,” he promised, brushing his nose against her forehead. “If you promise I’m not too late, I can be patient for a little bit longer.” 

“Is this just a fever dream?” she murmured. Was Park Jimin really saying these things to her?! She felt like she’d hit her head and woken up in a drama.

“So you admit you have a fever.”

“No! Maybe… I’ll get my thermometer.”

She did. And Jimin brought over soup and kept Hudu, like he’d promised. And by the time Hanbyul had finished squealing over the phone at her sister –with very little space for her sister to contribute anything– her voice was shot and her nose was stuffed too much to even sniff her pretty flowers Jimin had brought her.

Did he really mean it, that he cared for her too? What did this mean for them? He hadn’t asked her out but said they would talk more later… Should she ask him out or wait for him to ask her out? Should she ask both of them out? Would Sun-young figure out something was off? Would it be upsetting for her? That child was crazy smart, she would definitely figure something out and ask Hanbyul on the spot and what was she supposed to say? I spiked a fever because your appa kissed me.

Being patient was hard. Harder than Jimin had anticipated. He had thought that kissing Hanbyul and admitting to her that he had feelings would bring him peace but instead it drove him fucking crazy because here they were hovering in this limbo space and she was sick. His fault! She’d cleared caught it taking care of him, and all he could do was take her soup and walk Hudu for her. It wasn’t nearly enough, not compared to how much she had done to take care of Sun-young. Definitely not as much as he wanted to do. He could see her shoulders ached with the fever; how badly he wanted to rub them for her. She was flushed and sweaty and he wanted to brush her hair back –in fact he did, but that felt like as much as he could do for now. 

She’d confessed first. God, he respected her so much for that. He’d definitely been about to chicken out. In hindsight he appreciated Jungkook putting him on the spot, but it didn’t escape him that, secretly, if she hadn’t said it first, he might have run away. He wanted to be brave, he did, but he felt so hopelessly out of his depth here. He didn’t think he could be trying this again with anyone but her, only Hanbyul, because she would be patient if he fumbled a bit. He truly believed that.

But they hadn’t had a chance to talk again because she was sick and he had promised to be patient, and he didn’t want to pressure her in case she took it back, if he harassed her. It scared him for her to be sick. He would be inclined to hover. He didn’t want to scare her off already.

Because now that this door was open, maybe open, if Hanbyul meant what she said and hadn’t just been delirious with fever… 

His heart raced every time he walked by Hanbyul’s door. When he buzzed to ask if Hudu wanted to go out again, he felt like a tongue-tied teenager again. 

Sun-young seemed to just accept that they’d been taking Hudu on walks for the last two days as if it was something they’d always done. She held Hudu’s leash and led Jimin on a path around the park that was clearly familiar to her and Hudu both.

“This is where unnie goes when we walk,” Sun-young informed him as they set out on a bigger circle of the park. “We go to the cafe and she buys me hot chocolate.”

“Hudu goes in with you?”

“He’s a very good dog,” Sunnie assured him, which of course he knew.  Jimin suggested they go, since she was clearly leading him there anyway, and listened with bemused interest as Sun-young told him facts she’d learned about dogs from a book at school, and how dogs were bred for jobs, and how she wondered what job Hudu was bred for.

“I think he’s a mutt,” Jimin said.

“That’s not very nice!”

“No, it’s not an insult. He just isn’t a purebred.”

“So?”

“No, I know, it’s not a bad thing,” Jimin insisted. “But purebreds are the dogs who were bred for a specific job. Mutts just… happened.” Because animals will be animals…

“Well I think Hudu would be very good at a job,” she said, and crouched down to scratch his ratty brown fur. “He can do anything he puts his mind to.” Hudu looked thrilled at her praise and nodded and licked the air in front of her, tail thumping against the pavement.

“Just like you.”

“That was cheesy,” she teased. “I wish Hudu was our dog.”

Jimin swallowed and nodded and casually suggested, “Well, he’s our good friend’s dog, so it’s kind of the same.”

“It’s not the same at all. If he was our dog he would live with us but right now we have to go all the way down the hall to see him.”

“Mm-hm,” Jimin hummed. Yeah, tell me about it. He knew it was too soon to talk to Sun-young about this thing that might be happening, that he might be going to date Hanbyul. He didn’t know what that meant, much less could he explain it to his daughter. It might mean nothing. Hanbyul might change her mind. They might go out on a few dates and she’d decide it wasn’t working. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, just because he was excited. Having a girlfriend wasn’t like adopting a dog, you didn’t just fill out some paperwork and they were yours forever.

“Appa why is your face all red?” Sunnie giggled. Yah, because I thought the word ‘girlfriend’ about Hanbyul. It was stupid to feel so giddy about it, like some deep slumbering part of him was creaking to life. They hadn’t even gone on a date yet. Hudu snipped at buds pushing through the ground in the flower beds lining the sidewalk and that was exactly how Jimin felt. He was waking up. Hanbyul made him feel like he was blossoming after a long, very hard winter.

“I’m just cold,” he muttered. 

“It’s not cold at all,” she insisted, and did a little spin on the sidewalk. It killed him how graceful she was and turning her back on dance but it was her choice. OK. He was living with it. “Hey we should start planning the rice cakes you signed us up to make for the fundraiser, huh? Do you know what science demonstration you’re doing yet?”

“Not yet. Let’s get hot cocoa to warm you up,” Sunnie suggested. Jimin wondered if that was what Hanbyul usually said; the phrase struck him as odd coming from his nine year old daughter. 

Hudu was pulling them that way too, so Jimin went along for it. She was right, it wasn’t that cold, it was actually very beautiful out this early April evening. Hanbyul liked winter but he knew she liked spring too, she would love walking in this right now, just as the cherry blossoms were reaching their peak. It was criminal she was stuck inside.

“Maybe if Hanbyul feels better this weekend we can see if she’ll go on a picnic with us to see the cherry blossoms,” he suggested.

“Because you just want her to cook for us?” Sunnie gave him a stern glare.

“What? No! I’ll cook.”

“You want to make her sick again?!”

“Hey!” he scowled, and pinched her cheek. She giggled and batted him away, but then grabbed his hand and wrestled with it before there was actually any space between them. He wrestled right back as they waited for the light and Hudu leapt around them, yipping like he was tattling. Jimin won by wrapping his arm around Sun-young and pulling her into his side for a stolen hug which she, breathlessly, conceded.

“Didn’t we go on picnics to see the cherry blossoms with Eomma when I was a baby?” Sun-young asked.

Jimin froze.

“We’ve gone other years,” he said slowly. Yes, it had been an annual tradition, as it was for most families. They’d missed the year after Subin died, because he couldn’t handle it. Maybe they’d missed the year after too? “Seokjin and Namjoon went with us last year.” He watched her as they waited, anxious about why she had thought of going with Subin and not with their other friends after he’d suggested it with Hanbyul. Had she already picked up on something special about Hanbyul going along, about his maybe budding relationship with Hanbyul? Was she already feeling like Hanbyul was encroaching on Subin’s place as her mother?

“Uncle Seokjin is a good cook too,” Sunnie mused. “If you invite him and unnie and Uncle Yoongi we can eat so much.”

Jimin laughed awkwardly. 

How the fuck was he going to talk to Sun-young about Hanbyul? He ought to wait until things progressed with Hanbyul, until he was sure she was sure there was a future there. This could be deeply distressing for Sun-young, him starting to date. Especially someone Sun-young cared about so much. It could ruin her relationship with Hanbyul, she could lose another very important person in her life if it was too soon for her. The progress he’d made with Sun-young could be undone. This thing that he wanted so badly might be the worst possible thing for his daughter… He couldn’t do anything to hurt her… Maybe a counselor could help? He was selfish, he wanted it all, but he also genuinely believed Hanbyul would be so good for Sun-young. Fuck, was he getting ahead of himself? But they were a package, he couldn’t be with someone who wouldn’t be a positive force in his daughter’s life, who his daughter didn’t absolutely love–

“Appa aren’t we going to cross?” Sun-young sighed noisily and then laughed at him as he hurried to lead her and Hudu across before it changed. He was sweating now. Was it better to wait to say anything until he and Hanbyul had been dating a while or was Sun-young going to figure it out no matter how they tried to hide it and be hurt he’d tried? But she was a child. But what if she was mad. But obviously he couldn’t tell her something like this when nothing had even happened yet, and might even not happen if Hanbyul thought better of it before he managed to ask her out.

“Ok Hudu, be really good in here,” Jimin warned the dog, despite Sun-young insisting he knew how to behave –as if implying Jimin was the wild card here. 

It was a cute little cafe, just a nice little local place, not too busy but busy enough to be a reputable place. A curved green awning hung over the door and there were cherry blossoms painted on the window. The decor was simple and clean, dark wood in the seating area and crisp white around the counters and coffee machines.

Sun-young marched right up to the line at the counter, Hudu’s leash tighter around her hand to hold him close, like she must have seen Hanbyul do. It was sweet, seeing this glimpse into what Hanbyul and his daughter did without him. 

When it was their turn, the older woman at the counter smiled at Sun-young and asked, “Oh, you’re not with your eomma today?”

A jolt ran through Jimin. He was used to this –people questioning where his wife was, other mother’s asking to speak to Sun-young’s mother, teachers assuming Subin would be the one to volunteer for class things. But worse, he realized with a shock that the cafe woman thought Hanbyul was Sun-young’s mother. This preyed instantly on the fears he had just been living, as if the universe reached down to pluck them out of his brain and bring them into the real world.

“Oh, I–” Jimin began just as Sun-young chirped, “This is my appa! Can we get two hot cocoas?”

Jimin was stunned by the graceful way she evaded the question and only nodded along as Sun-young picked out two pastries as well, and then led him to a table by the window, explaining, “We like this table the best so we can watch people in the park.” Hudu curled up beneath Sun-young’s chair and waited patiently for her to pass down a spoon of whipped cream. She sang, “Who likes whipped cream? Who do? You do, Hudu!”

Jimin blew on his hot cocoa and tried to find the words.

“Um… Sunnie, you handled that very well,” Jimin eventually mustered. He watched her closely, waiting for any sign she was distressed at this reminder of the fact she didn’t have a mother, or confusion around Hanbyul’s role in her life. 

Sun-young looked thoughtful before laughing, “I thought you meant giving Hudu whipped cream! You mean ordering our drinks? I was practicing what to say before we came in here because unnie orders for us but she tells me to order sometimes too.”

“No, I meant… the confusion from the woman about Hanbyul…”

“Oh that’s nothing. People think unnie is my eomma a lot,” Sun-young informed him. “Well, not a lot, but sometimes people in the park or here think that.” She looked at the ceiling thoughtfully a moment, licking whipped cream off her upper lip, then asked, “Are you mad I didn’t tell her the right thing? I usually tell people the right thing but if you tell someone who doesn’t really know you that your mom is dead, they feel really bad about it. I didn’t want to make the woman feel bad when she’s just being nice. She works here a lot and unnie always talks to her.”

Jimin curled his hands around the cup and insisted, “I’m not saying you have to say anything. I know exactly what you mean.”

“You do?”

“People don’t know how to respond when you say something sad, like that your eomma is gone. It’s thoughtful of you that you didn’t want to make her feel bad but it’s ok to correct them still, even if it makes them feel bad for a moment.”

“Oh. You wanted me to?”

“No, I mean that… I don’t want you to think you need to go along with something that makes you feel sad or bad just to not make the other person feel a little awkward,” he rephrased. 

“It didn’t make me feel bad,” Sun-young said. She set her cup down and had a dollop of whipped cream on her nose which she tried to get off with her tongue before giving up and using the back of her hand before he could find a napkin. “She just doesn’t know me. Why?” Suddenly Sun-young looked worried. “You think it’s bad?”

“No no. You’re right that she doesn’t know you. I just meant it’s ok if it does make you feel sad, or if it bothers you for someone to think Hanbyul is your eomma and you want to correct them.”

Sun-young stretched her tongue out to get whipped cream off the edge of her cup before saying, “No, I don’t mind.” If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was far more interested in whipped cream than this conversation.

“No? Ok…”

“Sometimes she kind of acts like an eomma anyway,” Sun-young continued. “Like she does some things my real eomma would do if she was here.”

Every muscle in Jimin’s body clenched.

“Is that… ok?”

Sun-young couldn’t have looked more casual with her cheek on her hand as she scrunched her eyebrows and answered, “Yeah, why not? Then you don’t have to do everything.”

“I don’t mind doing everything.”

“You can’t do everything,” Sun-young insisted and gave him a look like he ought to know this. “It’s not that I like her more than you, you’re still my appa. But she’s a girl too and she does some things differently and I think it’s better having her around.”

“Yeah?”

“I get to see her so much lately, I mean until she got sick but you said it’s just a cold.” She gave him a quick look like a sudden fearful thought occurred to her.

“It’s just a cold,” he confirmed. “She got sick coming over when I was sick.”

“How did she get sick from you?”

“Hey that’s what happens with contagious colds,” he quickly insisted, afraid where her questions might lead her. “I didn’t do anything, that’s just how germs work. Just like it’s not your fault I got sick after you were sick. You’re into science, don’t you know about germs?”

“A little bit.” She began to rattle off things she knew about germs, peppering him with questions, so clearly unbothered by this entire conversation. Jimin felt himself start to thaw out. Surely it wouldn’t be that easy. It had only been a few years since Subin died. Sun-young’s feelings could change quickly if Hanbyul actually became a more official presence in her life. She was a little girl with such a little girl understanding of the world and relationships…

But she was growing up too. Maybe he was underestimating her. Again.

Once their pastries and hot cocoa were gone and Hudu was getting restless, Sun-young asked, “Maybe we should take a brownie home for unnie so she’s not sad we came here without her.”

“That’s a good idea. Do you know what she likes?”

“Definitely.” Sun-young made the selection, and the woman packed it up carefully, extending her sympathies when Jimin explained Hanbyul was sick. He didn’t fix the misconception earlier. It was wrong not to. He perpetuated a lie. He was pretending something, trying it on, something he didn’t have any right to yet. 

He felt the twinge of discomfort in his heart. Were things moving too quickly? Was it too soon? He had promised to love Subin his whole life, and now here he was letting this cafe woman believe that Hanbyul was his wife, Sun-young’s mother, all the things that Subin had actually been.

But alongside it was this fresh, slightly raw, new feeling. Like maybe those clothes could fit in time. Not yet, it was foreign and uncertain and scary but… but maybe he could get used to it. If Hanbyul could be patient with him

He had a feeling she would be.

“Maybe you can get unnie flowers too,” Sun-young suggested as they passed a woman selling bouquets on the corner as they crossed back to the park.

“I gave her flowers just a couple days ago.”

“Really?”

“Uh… yeah, you know, to thank her for helping out so much while I was sick. But then she was sick so I don’t think she can even enjoy them. Her nose isn’t working.”

“Maybe you should just ask unnie out on a date again.”

Jimin thought for sure he’d misheard her. He tripped on the curb as Hudu leapt ahead, barking at a squirrel. Sun-young dropped the leash and cried out, but Hudu immediately stopped and trotted right back, waiting patiently for Sun-young to pick the leash up again.

“What did you say?” Jimin asked, clearing the cough from his throat.

“Don’t you like her?”

“Hanbyul-ssi?”

“Yes.” Sun-young looked up at him with her big dark eyes, waiting expectantly.

“Of course, what’s not to like about her?” he returned, trying to sound casual.

“I know, and I think she likes us too and you already took her flowers so… I think it’s backwards? But I don’t really know anything about dating. I think you take her to see a movie now,” Sun-young suggested. As if she was really scraping her knowledge here to help her poor old appa who didn’t know anything about dating.

“You… would be ok with that?”

“I guess you can see a grownup movie I’m not old enough to watch anyway.”

But Jimin desperately wanted this permission that chance and the strange wandering mind of his daughter had brought him, so he pressed, “You would be ok if I went on a date with Hanbyul? If I… if we spent more time with her?”

“I know what dating is,” Sun-young scoffed. “I know when we went to see Mango Crush  it wasn’t even really a date because I was there so this time it can be just the two of you.” Jimin walked slowly, taking Hudu’s leash to pull him closer as some bicycles whizzed past and a bigger dog barked loudly. Hudu didn’t like it and stuck closer to Jiminn’s leg. He was thinking of what to say next.

Instead Sun-young asked, “Do you think it’s weird because it’s not eomma?”

“Weird isn’t the word I was thinking but… maybe. Do you think so?”

“No,” Sun-young said. He thought that was a strange answer and didn’t know whether to trust it.

“I miss your eomma every day,” he continued, “and I haven’t wanted to think about meeting someone new. No one can ever replace your eomma. She loved you so much. I loved her so much.”

“I know that.”

“So I just want to be careful. I don’t want to do anything that makes you and me sad. It’s hard to lose your eomma. It was hard for me to lose my wife.”

Sun-young pursed her lips in thought and it broke his heart, having such an adult conversation with a little girl. It was wrong what he’d said before. She didn’t have a little girl view of the world; she’d had to grow up very quickly in some ways. He just wanted to protect what little girl remained.

“I miss Eomma too, I wish she didn’t die. But I like doing things with unnie too. Is that ok?”

“It’s definitely ok.”

“Then why is it weird?”

“Just… because… I don’t know. Maybe it’s not weird,” he admitted because he didn’t know how to explain his complicated feelings and maybe he didn’t need to. If Sun-young didn’t have a hard time holding both Subin and Hanbyul in her heart, maybe he didn’t need to make it weird for her. If her feelings changed, if she felt different lately, well, they would work through that then. 

“Yeah, don’t make it weird, Appa, and don’t try to be funny and confuse her so she doesn’t know you’re asking her out. Unnie says when you are communicating something important, you have to be firm and clear and believe in yourself.”

“Are you… giving me advice on how to ask her out?”

“Yes!”

Jimin glared and assured her, “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. I’ve done this before.”

“With eomma? But that was so long ago.”

“Hey!”

“When we get home you can take Hudu and the brownie and I’ll run to our apartment so you have privacy,” Sun-young suggested.

“I’m not asking her out today! She’s sick!”

“But if you wait, Uncle Tae might ask her out! I think he likes her too.” 

And Namjoon and Jungkook Jimin internally grumbled.

“Don’t you worry about it.”

“Maybe I should help. I asked her out for Mango Crush.”

“Sunnie,” he stopped her right outside the building. “I’ve got this.”

She clapped her hands together and agreed, “That’s good, Appa, believe in yourself. I think she likes us a lot, I think she’ll say yes.”

He did not ask Hanbyul out, despite Sun-young’s eager questions as soon as he got back from returning Hudu and delivering the brownie. He tutted her away. Now he wondered if it would be better for her not to have known for a different reason. She might overwhelm Hanbyul. She might make Hanbyul feel rushed or pressured into something she didn’t actually want.

No, he had to trust Hanbyul in making her own decisions. He believed she would. And his heart did feel lighter about it all knowing he had Sun-young’s shockingly full support. 

Instead he waited until Sun-young had gone to bed to make the last phone call he needed to before he’d feel free to take the next step.

“Hey, Namjoon! I don’t want things to be awkward between us so I want to be upfront with you about my feelings for Hanbyul…”

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After the Applause (Ch. 6)

Header and linebreaks by @awrkives

Single Dad Jimin x Female OC

SUMMARY: Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

CW/tags: grief, prior loss of spouse/parent, comfort, explicit sex, secondhand embarrassment, sort of love triangle/web/rat's nest, fluff, cursing, dating apps, fuckboy friends, dancer Jimin, stubborn dad Jimin, stubborn pre-teen daughter, miscommunication, pining

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Hanbyul stared at the website confirmation page and felt certain she’d fucked something up. She hated this feeling, like she’d done something wrong. She’d probably attached the wrong thing, or missed some egregious typo, or maybe she sounded annoying in the cover letter. Maybe her headshot wasn’t actually a good likeness.

Thank you for submitting your resume and application. One of our recruiters will be in touch with you shortly.

She belatedly felt stupid to have done this on a Friday afternoon. Now the soonest someone would contact her would be Monday, which gave her at least forty-eight hours to convince herself that applying was the most embarrassing thing she’d ever done and that they were going to laugh at her application and print it out just so they could chuck it in the trash.

Enough of that. She steeled her resolve (to do the thing she had in fact already done) and closed her laptop and crossed her arms in an attempt to look as confident as she wanted to feel. She deserved that job. Some parts were outside of her skillset or experience but most of it was familiar. A man wouldn’t let some pieces hold him back from applying. A man would apply and convince the interviewer why he was still the best candidate for the job, and so that’s exactly what Hanbyul was going to do. 

Because only about 20% of boardrooms in the country consisted of women and while Hanbyul wasn’t applying for a board position, that’s where she was reaching. Someday she was going to get there, and she’d take Sun-young –maybe by then a successful young scientist– out for coffee and say Thank you. Thank you for reminding me that we face extra challenges in the workplace and it’s our responsibility not to hold ourselves back because others will gladly do that for us.

Hanbyul would not be held back! She’d give it her all to get this new position with its better pay and improved benefits. If it didn’t work out, she’d apply for others. She’d call her parents more. She’d clean her apartment this weekend. She’d stop putting Namjoon off and finally have a truthful conversation with him –her responses had been vague and she was certain he could tell. Right now, she could do anything! Even with her trembling hands!

Because a nine-year-old had convinced her she could. Sun-young had inspired her, it was true. Her determination and serious efforts to convince her father that she ought to do science club had shamed Hanbyul into applying because she refused to be a woman who let her childhood confidence fade away. Not that she had ever been as confident as Sun-young, but it wasn’t too late to catch up! She wanted to be the kind of woman Sun-young apparently thought she was.

So she needed to do that other thing, even though she’d been dreading it: she took Hudu on a walk and called Namjoon. 

He picked up on the third ring, a little breathless but cheerful sounding. Not for the first time she wished she could just text him about this but he deserved more than that. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too upset. Hopefully he wasn’t that invested. He couldn’t be, right?

“Hanbyul? Hey, I was just thinking of messaging you–”

“Hi Namjoon. I, um… I’m sorry, I have sort of disappointing, um…”

“Bad news? Are you ok?”

She cursed how sweet he sounded. The confidence after submitting her resume began to drain away. Why was she doing all these exhausting things in the same day? She had foolishly overestimated herself. 

“I’m ok but… I know I haven’t been very responsive lately and I wanted to just be direct because you’re really great and you deserve that.”

“Ah.”

“I’m really sorry but I’m just…”

There was silence on the line. She appreciated that he seemed to understand without her saying much. Or maybe he was just shocked. Stunned. Heartbroken?! Oh god, she’d never broken anyone’s heart before.

“Look if you’re just really busy right now or something, I get it. I know I’m traveling for work a lot too, so…”

“It’s not that. I mean, I am busy, and I just applied for a better job so maybe I’ll get even busier but–”

“Oh congratulations, I hope it goes well–”

“Aish, don’t be so nice,” she complained. “I feel awful, Namjoon. You’re such a great guy and–”

“You don’t have to do that. I mean you don’t have to comfort me. I mean, it sucks, because you’re… but…”

She tugged Hudu to the side of the path so she could stop and squeezed her eyes shut. Why couldn’t he be an asshole about this? She’d feel so much better. She was aware that she was stupid, that this was stupid, that she was ending what could become something good with a great guy for no reason. Or at least not a good reason. 

“I feel like shit.”

“It’s ok.”

“No, don’t you comfort me!”

“Can I just ask… it’s ok if you don’t feel comfortable, but I just…”

She waited, trying to ignore the way her stomach twisted and her face flushed and the blood rushed in her ears. This was awful. She didn’t have much experience calling things off with men and when she did, the guy had usually seen it coming and not cared that much anyway.

“Did I do something? Is there some… feedback you can give me or…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong at all,” she quickly insisted. And then because she felt too miserable and clung to a piece of driftwood she thought might make it better: “You’re such a great guy. To be honest, I kind of have feelings for someone else and I thought I could get over it but I can’t and you deserve better than that.”

For a moment he was silent again. She could hear his breathing; he always seemed to hold the phone so close to his mouth when he spoke. 

“I get it,” he said. “That really sucks. Sorry you’re in that situation, and I hope he figures it out quick.”

“I don’t think he will but… um… thanks. And I’m really sorry, Namjoon.”

“Don’t be sorry. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“And uh, give me a call or something if you’re ever not… not feeling things for someone else, I guess.”

“I will,” she blurted out because she couldn’t think quickly enough on her feet. She ended the call before she could say anything else stupid and pressed it to her forehead. Had that gone well or not well? She couldn’t tell. She supposed it could have been worse… but she felt like she shouldn’t have mentioned having feelings for someone else. What if he somehow figured out she meant Jimin?! And it was a cop out anyway because that wasn’t the only reason. She was emotionally compromised, but she didn’t break off with Namjoon for Jimin. Jimin wasn’t an option! She just didn’t see a future right now with anyone who wasn’t… Jimin.

She felt punchy in a different way now. She practically jogged home with Hudu, which she never did and clearly confused him; he kept looking up at her like he expected someone else might be holding the leash. Once home, she dug through her cabinets looking for anything to soothe or distract but her cupboards were practically bare. Why did she have so many ingredients but no food or alcohol?

It was in this state of desperation that she received a message from Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook: hey re hitting up hongdae club aura and youre coming

Hanbyul: ok I’m in

Jeon Jungkook: wait really???

Hanbyul: did you mean to invite someone else? 😅

Jeon Jungkook: you but you never take me up on it!

Hanbyul: I don’t want to sit at home tonight

Jeon Jungkook: ok ouch didn’t need to make an excuse

Jeon Jungkook: whatever, you can’t bring me down, see you at 10

Hanbyul: TEN?! 

Jeon Jungkook: why are all my friends grandpas? 10 is early! Don’t you bail on me too

Hanbyul: I’ll see you at 10 if you can actually get us in…

Jeon Jungkook: you’re cute, you’ll get us in

Hanbyul laughed. Hard. She knew she ought to be giddy for a man who looked like Jungkook to say that kind of thing, but he said that kind of thing all the time in a way that didn’t actually feel very specific anymore. Only after the date was set did she have a rush of terror realizing she had just agreed to go out clubbing with Jungkook… but it was true that she felt jittery and didn’t want to be home this evening. She felt like she could do anything! Even stay awake until 10pm to go clubbing on a Friday night! 

She had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly which of Jungkook’s friends had insisted ten was too late at night. Though he’d obviously be the hottest one there, she didn’t think Jimin was into the scene –certainly not in the time she’d known him. She had absolutely no concern that Jimin would be at the club. She also felt like this might be a good chance to really establish a platonic friendship with Jungkook and quiet her slight fear that she was leading Jimin’s close friend on. You know, since she’d already slept with and ghosted then dumped another… 

Her dress was short. It was the shortest dress she owned. She didn’t really own revealing clothing, nothing sexy for hitting the clubs, but she’d bought this dress that was a little too small and so that would have to do. She’d just have to remember not to raise her arms or… disaster! 

She kept tugging it down as she made her way inside with no issue –Jungkook had put her “on the list” and texted her to come on in, which seemed really suspicious. He was easy to find, practically spot-lighted under a round table in a distant corner, animated and laughing with another guy and two girls.

She carried herself bravely forward, nerves instantly frazzled by the loud music, pulsing lights, and close bodies she had to weave her way through to reach them.

“Hey you didn’t bail!” Jungkook cheered when she reached his elbow. “My only true friend.”

The use of friend instantly set her at ease, though she wasn’t prepared for the names lobbied instantly at her amidst their shouts of protest at his remark: Jung Hoseok, Park Andi, and Han Chun. Years and connections were shared and she tried to keep up over the noise of the club, answering the questions as formally as a job interview. She had hoped no one noticed how nervous she was to be out with people she didn’t know, but Jungkook seemed to because he insisted on buying her a drink, which she was overwhelmed into agreeing to. Only when he returned with her cucumber something in hand did she realize there were two men and two women and Jungkook had just bought her a drink and maybe calling her his friend was all part of his plan. Even though that seemed absolutely ridiculous when both those women looked–

Oh. Hanbyul realized she had miscounted. 

“I can’t even count!” she groaned and let her face fall against her hand, not even caring that the slump might smudge her makeup or transfer oil to her chin and give her acne. Who cared what a girl who couldn’t even count looked like!

“Who’s counting? You don’t need to count anything right now,” Jungkook laughed. “You want me to do some math for you?”

“He can’t do math,” Hoseok immediately ratted him out. “Don’t ask him to do math, he just picks a number.”

“That’s not true!”

Andi giggled and leaned in close to agree, “He acts like he’s thinking really hard and then confidently gives a very wrong answer.”

“He doesn’t need math, he’s so pretty,” Chun suggested, though Hanbyul couldn’t tell if her smirk at Jungkook was predatory or just teasing. She didn’t know these people, and clearly her day was beginning to take a toll, so she really shouldn’t have come out. 

“Shut up, don’t blow my cover. Hanbyul’s a smarty, don’t make me look stupid,” Jungkook laughed.

Hoseok nodded and agreed, “I’ve heard about it.”

“About… me?” Hanbyul clarified, tilting her head.

“Neighbor Hanbyul,” Hoseok confirmed, which made more sense, even if it made her a little sad to be still Neighbor Hanbyul. “Sunnie talks about you a lot too.”

“Ahhh that girl.” Hanbyul grinned as a warmth blossomed in her chest. That was better, at least. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

Jungkook’s stare and slow grin made her nervous as he nodded, the others confirming. It was quickly made clear they all knew Jimin and Sun-young –Hoseok was a teacher at Jimin’s studio, Hanbyul was quickly educated on, and Chun and Andi both danced with him and Jimin. When asked if she’d ever seen Jimin dance she admitted that she hadn’t and chose not to disclose her YouTube history. There weren’t many videos on there but there were a few! Anyway, they clearly meant seen him dance live, so it wasn’t a total lie.

“We hear a lot about your son, too,” Hoseok added. Hanbyul, mid-sip of her cucumber something, promptly choked. Jungkook seemed to take great glee in pounding her on the back.

“My what?”

“Hudu?”

“He’s a dog!”

“A dog can be a son!” Hoseok laughed with the rest of the table. He smiled with his whole face and it reminded her so much of Jimin she could almost believe they were related.

“Honestly a dog is the best son,” Andi insisted. “Like, I love Sunnie with my whole heart, but I don’t want kids of my own. I’ve got a cat and I want a dog too but I don’t think I’m tough enough to walk one in the winter.”

“You’re not tough enough,” Jungkook agreed; Andi dipped her fingers into her glass and flicked the droplets his direction.

“I would die for my dog,” Chun announced. “I can never have kids while he’s alive, it wouldn’t be fair to him.”

Hoseok sighed and admitted, “My dog still lives with my parents.”

“It’s their dog,” Jungkook snorted.

“It was my dog but I couldn’t have him with me at university housing when I was younger, and they were all so attached by the time I moved out on my own so– but we could get a dog,” he said, pouting his lips in Jungkook’s direction as if it all came down to his choice.

“I want a dog,” Jungkook agreed.

“Well fuck, let’s get a dog! Woah, but is it a betrayal of Mickey, that’s what I’m worried about…” Hoseok sighed and slumped.

Hanbyul murmured sympathetically and sipped her drink faster. She did not understand what was happening. On the surface she appeared to have joined a group of very fun, down to earth people who just happened to look insanely gorgeous and not of this world in shiny button-up shirts and sequined dresses. It was a complete injustice for these people to be both fun and look like that, and Hanbyul the boring dowager in her plain dress. 

Yet at the same time it made perfect sense because these were Jimin’s friends, and he was like that too! Hanbyul felt utterly stupid for having agreed to come out and yet simultaneously, selfishly fascinated. She felt like Jungkook had opened a door for her that Jimin had not, letting her see this adult social aspect of Jimin’s life –arguably without his permission. Not that he owned these people or anything… but if part of her reason for being here was to learn more about Jimin and get closer to him in that way… fuck, she was a creep! Would she have ever even talked to Jungkook if he wasn’t Jimin’s friend? She doubted herself now. 

“I’m getting another, do you want one?” Andi asked, nudging Hanbyul in a friendly, familiar way that she was flattered to have somehow already earned .She didn’t want another one, but she also did.

“I can buy you something back,” she offered Jungkook before following Andi.

“It’s fine.”

“I insist.”

“Ok, whatever you get.”

“Even if it’s girly?” she checked.

He gave her a horrified look and clarified, “It’s a drink, there’s no gender.”

Hanbyul too was horrified and insisted, “No, I know! But sometimes men are so–”

“I’m just fucking with you. Girly is fine, I don’t discriminate.”

Hanbyul did not know what to make of him, especially since Hoseok was now leaning to the side laughing into the final sips of his beer.

“Forget this, I’m coming too,” Chun decided. “They just want to stand around and drink.”

“We’re going to get more drinks…” Andi pointed out.

“But we can dance on the way and back!”

In that way Hanbyul found herself boxed onto the dance floor for a period of time that could have been ten minutes or an hour, she couldn’t have said. The music was high energy and heavy-bass and she couldn’t tell when one song ended and another began. Her movements felt painfully clumsy next to the graceful way Andi and Chun twisted and swayed. It would be obvious to anyone observing that she was no dancer –but everyone was packed too tightly for anyone to really observe. Hopefully. 

She was glad when it ended, and that relief led her to agree to the round of shots Andi bought. Chun missed her mouth slightly, the rum dribbling down the cleavage of her dress, which Andi dramatically helped her wipe. Then they leaned in close with Hanbyul and scouted out the hotties along the bar, of which they considered there to be very few. 

Hanbyul kept waiting for one of them to ask her something pressing or private –maybe why Jungkook had suddenly invited her along, or why she’d come, or why she thought she should delve further into Jimin’s life when she was just his neighbor– but they didn’t. 

The closest was Chun asking, “What do you think, Hanbyul? Anyone at this bar catch your eye? What’s your type?” But she didn’t have any malicious twinkle in her eye or bullying smirk, it really seemed like just a sincere question! And Hanbyul began to realize that maybe she was getting too used to workplace politics and competitiveness and it was interfering with her ability to just make friends. Was that what was happening here?

Maybe it was that hope, or maybe it was the alcohol starting to do numbers in her blood, but she admitted, “I don’t think I have a type… at least not one that has worked out for me.”

“Oh no. Something recent?”

“Oh… I did end something recently… but it wasn’t his fault, it was…” Oops. Just in time she realized she couldn’t say more about this without revealing way too much –not only because all roads led to their friend Jimin but also because she’d only just met these girls! “It didn’t work out,” she summarized.

“Another shot?” Andi asked, already signaling for the bartender.

“No, wait–”

“Yes!” Chun agreed. “You can feel sad about it tomorrow if you really want to, but tonight there’s dancing!”

“I’m a terrible dancer,” Hanbyul found herself confessing. They were overwhelming, both of these women, pressing another shot into her hand. It was bitter this time and made all three grimace and smack their lips.

She thought they’d missed what she said anyway but Andi insisted, “There’s no such thing as a terrible dancer. Technique? Sure. But dancing is just… feeling! It’s just moving! It’s just breathing.”

“You have clearly not seen me.”

“I was dancing with you five minutes ago!” Andi laughed. “And now I’ll dance with you again, let’s go!”

Hanbyul had Jungkook’s and her drinks in her hand, but did her best to shimmy and sway adequately along with Chun and Andi in the direction of the table. She felt ridiculous but their acceptance was a balm on her self-conscious soul. Jungkook and Hoseok leapt up at their approach and began dancing as well. It was just such a completely different club experience than Hanbyul was used to when she would go out with work peers, or longer ago when it was college friends rotation around her, drinking too much, picking at each other’s appearances and achievements to feel better about themselves in what felt like a hunting grounds for sex.

This didn’t feel that way at all! Hanbyul found her nerves dissolving with each sip, with each song (assuming it wasn’t just one long song playing which she thought entirely possible), with each moment of shared laughter. It was impossible but she began to feel as though she had known these people for a very long time.

Also the alcohol helped. 

Hoseok spun her around –vaguely she recalled making some comment about ballerinas– which led to her promptly over-balancing against him, or it was possible Jungkook had bumped into her, and possibly on purpose because they were dancing near their table and the space was tight and everyone was very close together. She felt barely on her feet and slid around to lean against the table instead and catch her breath so she didn’t accidentally drag Hoseok down. Their empties were gone and she hesitated over the waters, which had now sat unguarded for some period of time. She ought to get water fresh–

“Hey hey! You came out after all!”

Hanbyul didn’t know how she even heard Jungkook’s shout over the noise other than her sixth sense suddenly shooting an alarm up her spine. She turned, not even bothering to hope it was literally any other friend of Jungkook’s than Jimin.

No, worse. 

There was Jimin, an eyebrow lifted and his mouth open in surprise aimed clearly, undeniably in her direction.

And there beside him, both eyebrows lifted and mouth open in surprise aimed clearly, undeniably in her direction, was Namjoon.

“Fuck!” she choked out.

Jungkook gasped and grabbed her arm, asking, “Did I step on your foot?”

“No but I suddenly need to go home– I mean yes, I need to go home.”

“Shit, how bad–?” Jungkook dropped to a crouch, reaching for her foot. Which was a very bad look, she thought. She leapt away from him, but teetered again because the alcohol. The alcohol! Shit, she could not be drunk at a club like this in the presence of either Jimin or Namjoon and most definitely not together!

“I’m fine, but I’m heading out. Goodnight!” Would they believe that she hadn’t seen them and that’s why she wasn’t greeting either one of them? All of this had happened in the span of four seconds.

No, it wouldn’t make sense, even her alcohol-riddled brain knew they were directly in front of her.

“You really don’t have to leave on my account–” Namjoon said.

“Why do you have to go, just because I’m here–” Jimin said at the exact same time.

They stopped and looked at each other and Hanbyul lost at least three years off her life. 

And then mercifully, before they could say anything, Andi flung her arms around their shoulders and cheered, “You sad sacks came out after all? Let’s get you some motherfucking drinks!”

“Wait, you’re both really here? You never come out!”

“I have a kid,” Jimin defended, suddenly all smiles as Chun descended, pinching his arm and brushing something off his shoulder. 

“I, uh,” Namjoon coughed and looked over their heads. “I just don’t like places like this.”

“Oh sorry it’s not refined enough for you,” Andi tittered. “Too busy at art galas and restaurant openings to consort with club scum, huh?”

“Andi,” he complained, dimples flashing, all the charm Hanbyul had initially liked about him. And yet she felt so closed off from it now, like she could recognize but not really connect with that charm. How could she when Jimin was there beside him, glowing like her north star?  

Hanbyul saw her chance and took it. She ducked around them all and tried to flee for the door. She could call an Uber and be speeding away, looking back through the rear window, before anyone even noticed she was gone.

Unfortunately, the club was a confusing place and after weaving across the throng of dancers, she’d been carried by the current upstream to the bathrooms. 

“Shit-shit,” she mumbled to herself and darted inside because she really did need to pee too and better to do that now. Maybe they’d think she was already gone and stop looking for her and she could still escape. She took her time, braced every time the door opened for it to be Andi or Chun ruining her escape. But as some amount of minutes (uncountable because alcohol) ticked by, she steeled herself and found her confidence. She could get out of here. Whatever Namjoon and Jimin talked about in her absence, at least she wouldn’t be here to face it. That was a Tomorrow Hanbyul problem. Today Hanbyul needed to get the hell out of here.

She stepped boldly from the bathroom in the direction she was certain was the front door –and ran boldly into Namjoon.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Namjoon,” she said, thinking as she said it how casual and cool she sounded. Might as well tack on hey, wow, I didn’t see you, didn’t know you were here!

“Hey look, I– sorry, I guess I surprised you… I didn’t know that you uh… knew these people… or would be out at a club… tonight. This club. With these people.”

“Oh, yeah, it was sort of a… a spur of the moment thing. Jungkook invited me along and I didn’t want to just sit at home so…” Her words caught up to her and she realized how terrible that sounded. I dumped you but I also didn’t want to be bored so I just went clubbing.

“Ah. So Jungkook uh… is the guy…? I didn’t even know you knew him…”

“What guy?”

“That you said…” He leaned in close as the music took a turn, and the warm scent of his cologne was unkind as he said closer to be heard, “You said you had feelings for–”

“Oh! NO THAT’S NOT HIM!” she shouted, stiff-arming him away. A little too roughly, she realized, and quickly grabbed his arm and apologized, “Sorry, I– I forgot I told you that. No, it’s not him. He’s just a friend. Sort of. And I– sorry, I’m a little drunk right now kind of?”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t just break things off with you and go party, I was feeling pretty bummed so I thought I’d do something out of the ordinary…I mean, it was the right thing to do but like I said, um… but now you’re here and…” And Jimin is here…

“Hey, it’s fine,” Namjoon assured her. “If you aren’t comfortable with me here, I can leave but if it’s ok, I can be cool.”

“You’re very cool,” she agreed.

He smiled, a handsome dimpled smirk like she hadn’t answered his question correctly, and corrected, “I just mean, I’m only going to be here for a drink and then I’ll go. This isn’t really my scene so don’t let me chase you away.”

“Ok.” 

“And uh, just so it’s out there, if you… ha, nevermind. I’m just going to get my drink, don’t mind me.” He held his hands up and backed away and Hanbyul hated not knowing what he’d been about to say. Maybe: if you want to be friends, that’s cool, I can refrain from ever letting anyone know we had sex and a few dates. She hated that he was probably not saying that.

Almost as much as she hated seeing Jimin standing not too far off, having clearly watched their interaction.

She couldn’t go talk to him. Not while Namjoon would see her and she would probably say or do something that would make it immediately obvious who Jimin was to her because damn he looked so good! He’d gelled his hair back and rolled the sleeves of his dark button-up to his elbows. The club lights flickered off his earring, as if he needed any help from a spotlight to draw eyes to him. Hanbyul felt like the crowd dramatically parted, like the lights shone specifically for him, from him. 

She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed to see her invading his friend group, or if he had a guess as to what had happened between her and Namjoon. For all she knew, Namjoon had told him everything before they came tonight, or in the time since she’d fled the table, and Jimin had come to demand what the fuck was wrong with her.

But Namjoon was a class act, maybe he hadn’t said anything. Maybe Jimin was only curious about why she and Namjoon had been speaking so closely. If she left now, all Jimin would know was whatever Namjoon said about it. If she stayed and everything seemed cool, maybe Jimin wouldn’t think anything weird was happening. She’d mentioned before she spoke to Jungkook through the app, so it couldn’t be a total surprise she was here.

It made sense in her mind, and was a better excuse than that other thought: I just want to hang out at a club with Jimin. 

Who was she kidding, she couldn’t stay here!

He was walking towards her and she couldn’t move. 

“Hey,” he greeted when he reached her and she wondered if he ever used that line on women at the club because it would totally work, looking like that.

“Jungkook invited me and I had a really long day so I thought it would be good to get out of my apartment,” she blurted out in an attempt to distance herself from Namjoon in one sweep.

“It is a good idea,” Jimin said. “I didn’t know you went clubbing.”

“Rarely.”

“Me neither.”

“You look like a natural,” she assured him.

“Clubber?”

“Huh?”

Jimin shook his head and laughed, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Me?”

“Uh… yes?”

“Yes,” she said, despite knowing she really shouldn’t. More alcohol was the last thing she needed but Jimin had offered! Jimin twisted his hand behind his back so she could hold onto it and trail him through the club to the bar. Jimin asked her what she wanted and paid and she felt bad to let him pay but he’d bought her a drink!

Drink in hand, she was the one to lead them back to the table, though it had been abandoned; all Jimin’s friends were dancing. She thought to join, but Jimin leaned against the wall and she felt anchored to his side.

He nudged her arm and asked, “So how do you know Namjoon?”

“Dating app,” she answered quickly. “And Jungkook. I think all your friends are on there… I make a lot of friends on there… it’s not just for dating!” What was she even saying? She thought maybe if she said “friend” enough it would be enough to save her.

“Friends, huh?” He was practically shouting to be heard, not leaning in as close as Namjoon had. She wished he would; she felt like the distance meant something. “I don’t know anything about apps but I started an account today. Guess I’ll see you on there, huh?”

Hanbyul didn’t know what to do with that information. Why had he made an account on a dating app?!

Same reason as you, moron. Park Jimin was ready to start dating again, that’s what it told her. He’d come to the club looking like that, so maybe he’d been hoping to meet someone here. He must be, to come out when he didn’t normally. The thought of watching him pick up a woman made her break out in a cold sweat. What if she ran into her leaving Jimin’s apartment in the morning–no, probably he wouldn’t take someone there with Sun-young at home, but maybe she was spending the night somewhere else? 

“I hear it’s tough though,” Jimin said, still shouting. “Namjoon had a thing going I guess and it ended today so I made him come out too.”

Oh god, he knows.

“I’d rather meet people the traditional way,” he continued.

“Here?” she asked, face twisting into a grimace. “I guess it depends on what you’re looking for.” 

“Ah… I don’t know…”

“Not all of us meet people as easily as you but I don’t think you’ll have a hard time,” she shouted back.

He pressed his hand over his eyes and then laughed, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Do you need a pep talk before you go hit on someone?” she asked, drawing on all of her strength to be what he needed in this moment and not do what her drunk brain was encouraging her to (lean in and kiss.) “You are brave and smart and funny and–”

“Are you giving me the same speech you gave my daughter?”

“Maybe!” she laughed because he was laughing and because it all felt briefly very funny, having this shouted conversation in the club with Jimin. Encouraging him to go meet a woman “the traditional way” (drunk in a bar) to take home and do the things she wanted to do with him and hope he didn’t find out she’d done those things with his friend already… but different things! Similar in theme but different!

He finally did lean in and begin, “You know what she told me today? She– hey, maybe we should go somewhere we can hear–”

“HEY!” Chun suddenly appeared, followed in short order by Hoseok. “The fuck are you wallflowers doing?”

“Come dance,” Hoseok agreed. “You can talk at home!”

There wasn’t room left to argue. She and Jimin were dragged out, downing their drinks on the way to abandon on a table, and then pressed into the dancing mob. Hanbyul had hoped to position herself so she could at least dance near Jimin, but her hesitation when faced with Namjoon and what he might realize about her feelings towards his friend was just enough time for Andi and Chun to slide in between. Instead Hanbyul found herself on the fringe with Jungkook and Hoseok.

Maybe that was for the best. She was like a baby: without Namjoon or Jimin in sight she was able to forget them, aided by alcohol and loud music and the antics of these two of Jimin’s friends. Despite being physically graceful men, they were clearly just having fun with dancing; both grinned and laughed and didn’t take themselves too seriously which helped her feel less self conscious about what her less-drunk brain would have termed “awkward motions at best.” Maybe she was getting the hang of dancing in the club! Maybe she’d be confident enough now to dance over closer to Jimin! 

Abort abort abort!! Hanbyul froze at the familiar way a random woman danced with Jimin, her hands trailing over his body. Maybe she wasn’t random? Jimin did not seem put off by it, just laughed and lifted her hands but kept her close. Hanbyul wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was Jimin really that bold or did he already know that woman? Hanbyul couldn’t imagine dancing with a man like that. The envy flooded her.

She tried not to look again but it was hard not to. She felt suddenly like a switch had flipped and all the fun she’d been having abruptly turned off. She was being stupid jealous. Hadn’t she just encouraged Jimin to go meet someone? And they were just dancing. And even if it went somewhere, it wasn’t any of her business.

“I need water,” she announced to no one in particular and disappeared again, responsibly leading herself to the bar. It tasted weird and unpleasant in her mouth, and at the first sip she had the urgent need to pee, which meant another swim upstream through the crowds to reach the restrooms. The club was becoming less fun by the minute.

She didn’t think that much time had passed but when she tried to find the group again, they’d scattered. Trying to locate them was a fool’s errand; she’d think she saw one only to squeeze her way there and find it to be someone else. She was all twisted around. The room felt overly loud, the music too loud, the lights too bright. 

There, Jimin!

At the bar, nodding as the woman from earlier leaned in close to say something in his ear. He said something back, right in her ear, then appeared to look around before shaking his head. The woman touched his arm.

Hanbyul knew her night was over. She couldn’t stay here and watch him pick up a woman. She shouldn’t have been here in the first place. She could still see Namjoon out of the corner of her eye, that good guy she’d dumped for no reason other than that it was casual fun when she wanted something serious with someone who was not available, only for him to immediately find her out at the club. She couldn’t find Jungkook. She barely knew Andi and Chun. Her feet hurt and her head was swimming and she felt like she kept getting drunker even though she hadn’t had anything to drink in a while.

Oh no, she realized with a longing for sobriety. I drank too much. Control of her arms and legs felt exaggerated, and the music felt like it was leaking into her skull, and she had the impulse to take off her clothes because it was so hot in here.

Don’t do it! The last tendril of her rational self pleaded with her to behave. She shushed it gently with a finger to her lips.

“You!” a voice at her elbow called. She spun, expecting Jimin, finding Jungkook.

“You were lost!” she cried.

He glared and wagged his finger, “You disappeared! I’ll be in deep shit if I lose you!”

“With the proper authorities?”

“Wha?”

Someone bumped into her and she edged closer to Jungkook with a pout. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wished Jimin would take her home –no, Jimin wouldn’t take her home, even though they lived right now to each other. Jimin might be taking someone else home.

“He’s still talking to her,” she realized, her eyes landing on Jimin despite the crowd. She couldn’t tell if it was the same woman but it didn’t matter. Jimin was going to take home whatever woman he wanted and meet more women on the dating app and Hanbyul was going to have to just sit back and cheer him on. She wanted to cry.

“Hey, you ok? You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I want to go home,” she said in a small voice. “I’m too drunk…”

“Ah, damn. No, don’t cry.”

“I won’t cry,” she vowed, though didn’t quite believe it herself.

“What? I can’t hear you… let’s just get you home,” he said, as best she could tell. When he nudged her towards the door, she let him guide her out. It had cooled off considerably outside and she shivered. The sudden shift in volume left her feeling teetery, as if she’d been leaning on the noise and body heat.

“How drunk are you?” he asked, hand gripping her arm.

“Um, just a little bit… I can get a cab…” she pulled her phone out of her purse and promptly dropped it on the ground. “Oops.” It was embarrassing for Jungkook to see her like this. She didn’t know how she’d gotten this far, just one drink leading to another, and it was all fine until suddenly she fully understood she was watching the love of her life–

“He’s not the love of my life,” she insisted.

“What now?”

“I don’t know, where’s my phone?”

Jungkook held it up, but promptly overbalanced and fell on his ass. Only when he started laughing did Hanbyul consider she wasn’t the only drunk one, and it was overwhelmingly comforting in that moment. A few tears did leak out then.

“Shit, you’re crying. Let me go get Jimin, he’s better with that kind of–”

“NO!”

“No… Jimin?”

“Can I sleep at your place?”

“Uh…” Jungkook looked up at her from the curb. “Yes… but–”

“Not to have sex!”

“Ok geez.”

“No, I have to get home to Hudu… where’s my phone…” 

“It’s dead,” Jungkook told her.

Hanbyul promptly sat down beside him on the curb and sighed, “Well shit.”

“I’ll get you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No? I should just wave and let you walk off? Jimin would shred my balls and peel the skin off my body.”

“Ew,” she gasped.

“Oh he can take you home, he lives right by you.” Jungkook began to rise but Hanbyul knocked against him to send him sprawling again. “What the–”

“No!” she cried on a delay. “Anyone but him.”

“Anyone?”

“It can’t be him. He’s… busy.”

“Busy…?”

“Like… flirting. I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Nah, he won’t mind.”

“I can’t! He can’t see me like this! Who knows what I’ll say?!”

“What’s the worst you can say?” Jungkook laughed. “‘I’m in love with you’?”

Hanbyul grabbed his arm, eyes going wide, and demanded, “Did I say that?!”

“Wha?”

“How did you know that?!”

“The… fucking… wait… do you?”

“Did Namjoon tell you that?!”

“What does Namjoon have to do with anything?”

“I didn’t tell him who but I didn’t think he would show up today and why is Jimin friends with everyone in this city–”

“He’s a friendly guy.”

“I know and I know I’m just a friend so you don’t have to tell me but I still didn’t mean to…” She trailed off, unable to bring herself to admit she’d fallen in love with him, or unknowingly slept with his friend, or that her jealousy over him even talking to other women in the bar right now was going to consume her.

“Hey.” Jungkook nudged her arm with his. She gave him a miserable look. “I don’t think you’re just a friend.”

“Thanks, Jungkook. That’s sweet of you… I think…”

“No, I mean–” A car interrupted him, pulling to a stop so close that they both scrambled backwards. “Oh that’s our car.” She thought it was too soon for a car to have arrived. How had he even ordered one on his phone without her seeing? They scrambled into the car like a pair of street rats.

“Oh my god I’m too drunk I shouldn’t have been saying any of this! Stop making me talk!”

“It thinks it’s the alcohol.”

“Too much,” she sighed. “Why did I come out with you?”

“To have fun. Admit it, you were having fun.”

“I was, until…”

“So you’re like… in love with–”

“Stop saying it! I didn’t say that.”

“You pretty much did,” he tittered.

“You can’t tell him. Promise me. Promise me, Jungkook, not a word!”

“Why would I tell him your business?” Jungkook snickered. “I think you should tell him. And let me watch.”

“Jungkook. Jungkook Jungkook Jungkook–”

“Hanbyul, what.”

“We can never tell him,” she said with utmost sincerity, grabbing his hand and squeezing as tightly as she could. “He can never know.”

“Why not?”

“He and Sun-young are too important to me. Do you understand?”

“Yeah but what if you’re important to him too?”

“I am. I get to take care of Sun-young sometimes and he likes my cooking…” She closed her eyes because the car ride was making her dizzy. At least thinking of Jimin helped settle her head just enough she didn’t think she was going to puke in the backseat of the Uber. Probably. 

“Yeah but what if he thinks you’re more important than your cooking?”

She smiled and wished she could move enough to pat his head as she explained, “He doesn’t but I can be happy with being neighbor Hanbyul, but not less than that if I make him uncomfortable and he stops talking to me.”

“I don’t really know you a lot but I don’t think you should settle.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah, I’m sweet,” he agreed. “I think it matters, love and romance and… and thinking someone is the best part of your day…”

“Are you a romantic?” she gasped.

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“I thought you were a…”

“A what?!”

“A flirt…” Fuckboy.

“I am a flirt. I can be both. And I’m not setting for anything less than… I’m waiting to meet someone who gets all red faced talking about me like you do about Jimin.”

“I do not! I’m just drunk!”

“It’s cute.”

“I wish I could fall out of this car and have it run me over.”

Jungkook laughed hard and Hanbyul actually felt all right for him to know her secret. At least for right now. Even though he was one of Jimin’s best friends, at least right now her drunk mind did not perceive a threat that he would run and tell. Right now he felt like her friend too, like they were just two drunk girls in the bathroom sharing secrets. Except it was the back of a cab and his only secret was that he wanted to be in consuming love someday. To be honest, Hanbyul did not think being in love agreed with her so far.

Because yes, she was a little bit in love with Jimin and so far it was nothing but stomachaches.

They walked together up to her apartment. She thought he was just being a gentleman, but when she got back from the quickest pee she’d ever taken Hudu on, she found Jungkook puking in her bathroom.

“Mixed my alcohols,” he groaned. 

Well, Hanbyul was drunk enough to spill her secrets but not enough to puke. With any luck, Jungkook wouldn’t even remember these conversations tomorrow; she hadn’t realized he was as or even more drunk than she was.

“You can sleep on the couch,” she told him.

“The couch? Come on, let me share your bed.”

“Jungkook!”

“We don’t have to fuck! Jimin would never forgive me–”

“Stop talking about it!”

“About fucking? Or Jimin? Or fucking Jimin–”

“Jungkook!”

“Come on, you’re practically my sister in law at this point, just let me sleep in your–”

“I am not! What are you talking about?!” She covered her face and leaned against the wall. And refused to admit that she felt some secret little thrill in this teasing, in someone else making her connection to Jimin seem real and acceptable and possible. Even though she knew it wasn’t and that Jungkook was just a brat who was enjoying teasing her –which was sweet in its own way but she was definitely going to die of embarrassment tomorrow if he remembered any of this.

When she uncovered her face, Jungkook was holding Hudu, swaying slowly with the pup under his chin, and humming. 

Until he suddenly set Hudu down and sprinted to the bathroom again. At that point he decided he wanted the couch after all, since it was closer to the toilet. Hanbyul brought him a trash can too and a glass of water, by which point he was already asleep. Not that she was far behind. The room spun as she lay in bed, the events of the day sliding and jostling over each other.

Jimin was so handsome. And sweet. And charming. And kind. And handsome.

It didn’t matter what Jungkook said. Jimin wasn’t interested in her like that, as evidenced by his attention to other women, as evidenced by his mentioning dating other people to her several times now, as evidenced by his joining of a dating app when there was a perfectly ok Hanbyul down the hall.

Plus… Namjoon.

Well. This had been fun. But Hanbyul was never going to drink again and never going to go out with Jungkook and their friends again.

But first she made sure Jungkook was asleep with traitor Hudu curled up on his legs, and closed her bedroom door, and let her vibrator walk her through the memories of the way Jimin had looked and danced, except this time around her, kissing the lingering taste of his drink into her mouth…

Jimin slept like shit. Every time he’d start to doze, he’d grab his phone again, squinting at the blinding brightness to see if there was a message back. Occasionally he’d manage to fall asleep only to bolt up, certain he’d heard his phone ring –that obnoxious awful ring he’d put on ever since that one time Sunnie’s school hadn’t been able to get hold of him because he always kept his phone on silent and they’d called Hoseok, the second emergency contact, to go get Sunnie and she’d thought it meant her dad died too.

There was never an obnoxious ring going off. Instead he drifted in and out of sleep until Sun-young was awake, enough of an excuse to get out of bed and go through the motions of making them both breakfast and rattling off their plans for the day. Not that there was much for this one blessed weekend. Jimin wasn’t teaching any classes or partaking of any workshops or attending any performances by fellow dancers. Sun-young wanted to see her friends but there was nothing planned yet, and she had no weekend dance since there was no reason for her to take on extra. It wasn’t time for dress rehearsals yet. For her final recital.

“We need to grocery shop,” Jimin suggested, because their fridge was empty and that made him think of cooking and food and Hanbyul, which was better than thinking of Sunnie quitting dance. Hanbyul who had not answered his phone call or either of his texts asking if she got home all right. That wasn’t excessive, was it? But she’d been very drunk, and every time he’d tried to make his way over to her, Kim Hayoon kept catching hold of him again –and he couldn’t exactly just shove her off because she sat on the board of a scholarship that aided many of his students, which in turn kept his lights on and doors open.

Hanbyul must be ok. Just hung over. Hoseok said he’d seen Jungkook getting her an Uber and while Jimin would have greatly preferred that someone let him know Hanbyul was heading out so he could catch a ride home with her, he knew he could trust Jungkook. The fact she was drunk was both obvious and endearing, he could see it in the way she danced without her usual reserve, and the exaggerated way she responded when anyone talked to her. She just had a different look in the club when they’d talked that he couldn’t quite explain but it had just felt… different. He hadn’t understood she was drunk at first when they spoke, and maybe she wasn’t yet then, maybe that came later. He didn’t know, she just seemed happy. He had gotten painfully little actual time with her and the injustice of that was palpable. She’d looked amazing and he had never in his life expected to be at a club with her and he would have liked to dance together. Preferably just the two of them… and what the fuck was wrong with him that he hadn’t managed to make it happen?!

“I’m not hungry,” Sun-young said, possibly related to his comment about grocery shopping. He closed the refrigerator, now several degrees warmer, and looked over where Sunnie poked at her gyeran bap, cheek resting on her hand.

“You want cereal instead? We have…” He trailed off, realizing they had none. Hanbyul might have some he could bum off her…

“No,” Sun-young sighed. “Can I watch TV?”

“Sure, but we should go grocery shopping today and figure out what else we need to do… laundry… do you have homework?” Even as he said these things, he frowned. He did need to do these tasks, but he also wanted to just have fun with his daughter. Maybe Hanbyul could come along? He could tease her about last night, make sure she understood he had wanted to dance with her–

But to what end? He’d dance with her and maybe she’d humor him and only think to herself a little why is this old dad wanting to dance with me at the club? Why is he even here? He didn’t usually go to clubs –not because he didn’t enjoy them but because he didn’t usually have the time or energy. But Namjoon was bummed because that girl he’d been dating had called things off and it wasn’t serious but it kinda sucked and so Jimin had called in a favor with Yoongi and put himself together and gone to the clubs.

And there was Hanbyul, for no reason he could comprehend at the time, long hair pulled back to show off her neck, wearing a cute very short dress he’d never seen her in before… vibing with Jungkook. For a moment he’d lit up like a holiday tree with surprise and envy and relief, because here was an opportunity to spend time with Hanbyul in an adult setting except she was already spending that time with Jungkook! 

And then there was whatever Namjoon and Hanbyul had been talking about by the bathroom. He didn’t realize she’d gotten to know so many of his friends around him and now he felt even more like an idiot not to have invited her into his circle long ago. They clearly got along with her, she seemed happy –except for that moment she spoke with Namjoon, and looked so distressed it was hard to hold himself back from running in to save her. Maybe he should have. At the time he’d hesitated because Hanbyul wasn’t his to save and whatever they were talking about wasn’t his business. He’d been anchored by that twist of displeasure that she was young and single and pretty and so were his friends. 

Sun-young curled up on the couch with a blanket and watched some kid drama with an unblinking, disconnected stare. It dragged Jimin from his thoughts of Hanbyul.

“You ok, Sunnie?”

“I’m tired.”

That was wildly unlike her. Jimin perched on the edge of her couch and touched her forehead but couldn’t decide whether it was unusually warm or not. 

“Does anything hurt?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Your head? Your stomach? Your throat?”

“I don’t know, I just feel…”

“Yes?” he prodded, waiting for the revelation.

“Tired.”

Illness in Sun-young always raised a panic in him on par with what he’d experienced when she was only an infant and he and Subin young, inexperienced parents convinced every sniffle could be the first sign of something fatal. Most parents learned over time through proof of the contrary that colds were common and their child was healthy, though the fear always lurked in the shadows. But when Subin was suddenly very sick, and only a short time later died, it broke that security in Jimin. Any illness could be the last one. 

The doctor’s office was used to his overreactions at this point. He didn’t care, though he tried to reign it in once Sun-young made clear she found the coddling overbearing. He tried to trust her assessment of her own body, but she was a child! She gave him nothing to go on this time anyway, just tired, so Jimin checked ears and nose and throat, took her temperature, pressed on her belly, took her temperature again.

“A small fever,” he murmured.

“I think it’s just a cold,” she said, drooping to the couch again. She nudged his leg. “I can’t see.”

“Your vision is hazy?!”

“You’re blocking the TV.”

“Oh…” 

“My throat hurts a little,” she conceded, as if throwing him a bone in his worry. He had thought it looked a little red, her lymph nodes a bit swollen to touch.

This called for an aggressive offense of yuzu jelly tea, popsicles, and Sunnie’s favorite stew samgyetang. But they were out of popsicles, there was only a scrape of yuzu jelly left in the jar to make tea with, and of course he had no samgyetang readily on hand.

He glanced at the clock. It was nearing ten now. Surely Hanbyul would be waking up –even if she’d slept in with a hangover. In fact, he had some Easy Tomorrow she could drink! He should have taken it over last night and regretted his thoughtlessness now. She might be having a rotten morning and it would be shitty of him to show up and ask if she had any yuzu jelly or could make samgyetang for his sick daughter.

But she might be already making it for herself, and she might not mind sharing the jelly, and she might appreciate the Easy Tomorrow later than never. Plus he could confirm with his own eyes she’d gotten home safe.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just to see if Hanbyul has yuzu jelly.”

“Tell her to come watch TV with me,” Sun-young said from her blanket burrito. “You can say I’m sick if it makes her come.”

“I think you are sick, kiddo.”

“I’m just a little tired.”

She coughed immediately afterwards, as if even her body couldn’t stand by the dismissal of her symptoms. Jimin would never. Already he was evaluating just how far he’d let her symptoms get before he’d take her to the doctor. The answer: not very far.

He felt a twinge of guilt as he knocked on Hanbyul’s door. She might have a headache so he started quietly but when he didn’t hear anything, graduated to the buzzer.

He tracked footsteps to the door and then a pause during which he assumed Hanbyul was peeking through the peephole to see who was bothering her on a Saturday morning. He ran his hand through his hair, hoping he didn’t look too rough.

The door swung open to reveal Jungkook wearing yesterday’s clothes and looking puffy-eyed and crusty. He yawned and scratched at his cheek and gave Jimin a sleepy grin.

“Hey, Easy Tomorrow, thanks,” he said, reaching for the bottle. “I was just heading out. Hanbyul’s still asleep if that’s who you’re looking for.”

Jimin was so completely stunned to be confronted by Jungkook answering Hanbyul’s door that he could only stammer out, “Who else would I be looking for at Hanbyul’s apartment?”

“Yeah, good point.” Jungkook unscrewed the cap from the bottle and downed it in one long chug while Jimin just stood there, waiting for an answer to any of the questions he couldn’t find his voice for: why are you waking up inside Hanbyul’s apartment wearing yesterday’s clothes? Why did you go home with her? Why did you invite her out in the first place? Are you two dating now? Did you fuck?

Bottle empty, Jungkook handed it back to Jimin and clapped him on the shoulder as he said, “It was good you came out last night. I think everyone had a lot of fun.”

“Uh… yeah, uh…”

“Fuck. Think I’ll get some more sleep at home… see ya later. Tell Sunnie I said hey.”

Jungkook did not seem to realize that Jimin was stunned speechless. He set off down the hall, leaving Hanbyul’s door open as if Jimin was going to just waltz right in. She wasn’t even out of bed yet! Had she slept naked after Jungkook…

Jimin pulled the door shut, making sure he heard the click of the lock before sprinting back to the safety of his own apartment. There he snuggled down beside Sun-young and pulled out his phone to order yuzu jelly tea and stew and anything else he could think of that they wanted for delivery, cost be damned. 

What the fuck?! Had Jungkook really gone home with and slept with Hanbyul?

Jimin couldn’t even process it. Jungkook ought to know she was off limits! But also, of course Jungkook wouldn’t think she was off limits, because Jimin never said so, because she wasn’t off limits. Even if it felt wrong for her to not be off limits. Even if Jimin and Hanbyul weren’t dating, she shouldn’t be dating any of his friends either, right?? Because… because there was still an emotional connection there…

Jimin flat out didn’t know what to do. Everything in him warred between marching right over, coming out with it and seeing what she said… and doing anything in the world except that.

But coming out with what? What did Jimin have to offer Hanbyul? Absolutely nothing in some areas and too much in others. A single father, a dead wife, a heart still trying to adjust to the idea of letting someone else in. If Hanbyul was interested in Jungkook, then Jimin was not the guy for her. Jimin should be looking for someone older and settled or something anyway, right? Maybe someone with a kid too, so they could mutually burden each other –not that he thought Sun-young was in any way a burden, but it was a lot to ask someone who wasn’t a parent to suddenly become one!

“Is unnie coming?” Sunnie asked, sitting up and leveling a pink-faced pout in his direction. 

“Oh uh, I don’t know, she wasn’t awake yet.”

“Can you call her? I really want her to come over.”

Jimin stroked Sun-young’s hair and took her acceptance of this touch as proof she was very sick. 

Would it be such a bad thing if Hanbyul wound up with Jungkook? He could use someone to look after him, and she could use someone who could be fun and free with her. And she’d still be in Sunnie’s life, just as an aunt instead of…

Was he really thinking of Hanbyul like this? It wasn’t in any explicit way, words still seemed impossible and ill-fitting and heavy. He didn’t know what he wanted, he doubted Hanbyul wanted this nameless space, he was too afraid to look directly at this thing taking hazy shape in his mind, this future starting to come into focus. Did the future have to be big and scary? Wouldn’t it be the easiest thing in the world right now for Hanbyul to walk in from the other room and settle on the couch with them, legs folded beneath her, Jimin’s arm around her shoulder and Sun-young draped across their laps? Hanbyul’s head settling onto his shoulder…

The physical closeness was the only thing that would be new, and he wanted it. He craved it in such a sudden, overwhelming rush that it almost drove him from the couch to take a lap around the apartment to work out this restless energy. He wanted Hanbyul here and it wasn’t fair that she wasn’t. Sunnie wanted her here too! Couldn’t they just have what they wanted this time? The scene was playing out in his mind, the casual affection, Hanbyul’s hand stroking Sunnie’s hair, Jimin’s fond smile, maybe a soft shared kiss once Sun-young drifted off to sleep halfway through the movie. God, to kiss Hanbyul, to share a warm, close embrace that he’d been deprived of for years! And for the first time in as long, the longing for it didn’t bring him to his knees in grief. Subin was there in his heart, forever and always, but there was space for Hanbyul too, space he desperately wanted her to fill. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he stared at the empty space on the couch as if she was really there, as if they were sharing the phantom first kiss. His flush was as real as if they had.

God, he was pathetic. Lonely, and latching on to a fantasy of his neighbor. He tried to push the thoughts from his head with limited success and turned to narrating the TV show to Sun-young instead until she insisted he stop. 

“Is this what you want to watch? Here, let me get you socks and your stuffie. Maybe you need some medicine too? I think delivery will be here soon–”

“Appa just stay still with me.”

He immediately froze, still as a statue as Sun-young adjusted in his arms, her little warm body curled up with his in a way he’d feared she had outgrown. 

Well he sure fucking wasn’t moving now.

“Ok. I’ll stay,” he assured her. 

“Did you message unnie?”

“Yes,” he partially lied. “But she has something else going on. It’s just going to be us, ok?”

“Ok,” Sunnie sighed and he felt her head getting heavier against his chest. 

There. There, if she could accept it, he could too. They didn’t need Hanbyul or anyone else in their lives. The two of them and the memory of Subin were a whole-enough family. Things were already getting better between them since he’d budged on the dance and science, and the future would be ok. 

He’d let Jungkook know to take care because Hanbyul was a good woman, and then he’d let go of that silly dream he’d almost fallen into.

He had Sunnie and Sunnie had him and they didn’t need anyone else in the world.

Except maybe someone to get the delivery at the door so he didn’t have to unsettle his sleeping daughter. Shit! 

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evolution of a lover's heart  | 08 (final)

the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins.

pairing: fuckboy!jk x f reader

genre: fluff, angst, college au, (post collage au), fuckboy au, bet au

word count: 16.7k

warnings:  scenes with smutty undertones like someone being tied up naked, boob fondling, naked confessions, drunk (and ...horny) reader this time lol and sweetie gguk, a hunky gguk at the beach, a LOT of tears. and the biggest warning(disclaimer) of them all: i'm not a poet lol

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 8/8 previous | next>

© evolution of a lover’s heart is copyright jeonstudios 2023. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

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author's note: so here it is, the end! <3

It’s mid-December when you’re out with Jeongguk, Jin, Jin’s wife Sana, Tae, and Jimin and his girlfriend Ryujin.

After you’ve been sitting in a large booth on the upper floor for a while, getting just a tiny bit tipsy, you and Jeongguk soon find yourselves on the bottom floor, where the music is louder and the lights are lower.

He follows you into the dancing crowd, smiling back at you, entertained when you smirk at him and grip his shirt to pull him further along.

“So… you come here often?” you speak, throwing your arm around his neck and starting to move to the sensual beat.

Jeongguk laughs, his hands finding your hips. “Yeah,” he improvises, “I’m here basically every day. But I haven’t seen you around here.”

Your heart beats almost erratically at a list of things. The proximity between you, the feeling of his sturdy shoulders under your arm and his warm chest so close to yours. It skips a few beats at the familiar scent of him, and the way you can barely tear your eyes away from his. He peers down at you fondly and playfully, and you’re entirely lost in it.

“You might need glasses cause I’m also here everyday. In fact, I actually live here,” you gesture toward the dance floor that you’ve only visited once before.

Jeongguk shakes his head, “Oh, no, honey, there’s nothing wrong with my eyes, and I think you’re lying because I definitely would’ve noticed you.”

His words warm your veins, yet make a chill run over your skin. You press yourself closer to him.

For a while, you dance. A little bit of grinding, Jeongguk whispering things in your ear, and also a little bit of jumping when the DJ plays a really good song. And tons of laughter and smiling.

Then, Jeongguk decides that he wants more beer, and coincidentally enough, you have to visit the ladies’ room to pee out some.

Naturally, you agree to meet at the smaller bar on the bottom floor afterward, and so, you set out to find the bathroom.

There’s a bit of a line unfortunately, so it takes you around ten minutes to get into a stall, pee out all the beer and the little wine you’ve had, and wash your hands.

Then, the only thing remaining is to find your boyfriend again. It doesn’t prove to be very difficult; he’s at the place you decided to meet, but as you approach, you spot a woman next to him at the bar.

You don’t think very much of it at first–Jeongguk is a very attractive man, and it’s frankly inevitable that he’ll get hit on–but the closer you come, the more your forehead creases in confusion.

The woman is pretty tall and she’s honestly very beautiful. But Jeongguk looks… uncomfortable. Not massively so, but… well, you know him very well by now.

When you reach them, you tap Jeongguk’s shoulder, running your hand down his arm to hold his hand, “Hey, do you wanna find the others?”

He looks down at you, “Uh… uhm, yeah.”

“Who’s this?”

You turn your attention toward the woman, not expecting her to not take the hint. You hear Jeongguk introduce you over the music, “This is my, uh, girlfriend, Y–,” he says.

“Oh, you’ve got a new girlfriend?” she asks, also having to raise her voice over the music, and is that a flash of… distaste in her eyes?

“Well,” she continues when there’s no answer, “since you’re too busy to answer my calls, I guess I have to tell you this way. I’m pregnant. Four months.”

She lowers one of her hands, stroking it gently over her belly that appears pretty flat. Not that that tells you anything, some people take longer to show and others don’t show very much at all.

With your heart at a standstill, the first thing you do is look at Jeongguk. And he looks at you, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“No, that can’t be, I didn’t–we didn’t–”

Four months would mean that they had sex in… the middle of August. Which was when you were broken up. It also happened to be when Taehyung said that Tzuyu called.

Tzuyu.

“Are you gonna take responsibility for once, Jeongguk? Not try to lie your way out of it like you always do?”

You see how he struggles to find his words, the insecurity creeping back up again. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. The music is loud.

“Just this once, can you try to think of anyone but yourself?”

The thing is that Tzuyu looks genuine. There’s a crease of worry between her eyebrows, and she appears sincerely frustrated, maybe even distraught. Like she’s been trying to reach the fuckboy who got her pregnant but who doesn’t want to step up.

Your first instinct is always to believe the woman, but at this moment, you only think of one person. Jeongguk. You try to push the thoughts of a baby away. If she is pregnant with his child, then that complicates everything, but you’re not angry or upset because you were broken up. 

You don’t like the thought that he went back to her, but you don’t blame him. 

However, if there is no baby–or there is but it isn’t his–then she’s trying to sabotage her ex’s relationship, maybe in order to get him back.

Your brain is still processing the situation when you feel Jeongguk gently pull his hand from yours, but when you turn your head to look at him, he looks at her. His head is lowered slightly, and his posture isn’t the same as only ten minutes ago when he carried his head high and his back straight. 

It’s a heartbreaking but instant realization that he’s trying to remove himself from you. Or rather, remove you from the mess he thinks he’s made.

“Nothing?” Tzuyu asks calmly, directed solely at Jeongguk.

His eyes flicker from side to side anxiously, but before he can try to say anything, you grab his hand again.

“Have you had an ultrasound?” you speak up, remaining polite and soft-spoken as you meet Tzuyu’s eyes when she turns to you. “At four months, you’ve probably had one done, right? And he would like to see the pictures. If you haven’t, then he wants you to make an appointment as soon as possible so he can go with you.”

It’s barely noticeable, especially in the low light, how she flutters her eyes in surprise, and you feel the weight of Jeongguk’s gaze on the side of your face. 

“And he wants a paternity test as well, preferably before you deliver,” you continue, stroking your thumb over his skin.

“Are you accusing me of being a liar?” Tzuyu questions, her voice even louder than it needs to be.

“No, we just want to do everything right.”

“‘We?’ This is none of your business; it’s between me and him.”

For the first time, your voice turns stern, “No, you lost that right when you treated him like you did.”

“And who are you to decide that? Actually, who are you even? Me and Jeongguk go way back, and do I have to remind you that he came to me, which led to this,” she motions to her stomach, “in the first place.”

From appearing like any sane person just moments ago, you see how her true colors start to shine through. You heard Jeongguk introduce you as his girlfriend, but you’re not sure if she knows how long you’ve been together, and that, although broken up, he was with you in August. If she doesn’t, you don’t want to give her any more ammunition.

“He already told you I’m his girlfriend, and no offense, but are you five years old? It doesn’t  matter who’s known him the longest, but if it’s so important to you, we first met in college.”

For half a second, Tzuyu’s eyes widen, and she looks between you and Jeongguk.

“College?”

“Yeah.”

She drops her shoulders. “You know what? Fuck you. You’ll be a shit father anyway.”

You blink at the sudden change as she pushes her way in between you, forcing your hands apart.

“Let him know when to take you to the hospital,” you call after her, but you don’t get much of a response except a half-assed wave.

Music still blaring, you turn to Jeongguk. He’s looking somewhere else, gaze lost avoidingly into the sea of people.

Gently, you reach for his hand, smiling when he looks down at you, and slowly intertwining your fingers.

His eyes are cautious, and you know. You know. Although tall and strong, it’s all in his eyes, so easy to read. It’s like being looked at by a helpless little deer kid, prepared to be abandoned. Bambi.

He wants to leave. You can tell that he considers it just to make it easier for you, even if it’s illogical. 

“I’ve got you,” you say, perhaps a bit too quietly, but you’re certain he read it on your lips anyway.

His hand is warm in yours. You see him mumble a ‘why?’

“Let’s go outside.”

You lead the way, Jeongguk’s hand firmly held in yours the whole journey through the dancing and drinking people. Well outside, you take a deep breath. The December air is cold, and you didn’t bring your jackets, but there’s no need as you’ll return into the warmth soon enough. 

“You okay?” you ask, attempting to meet his eyes, but he looks straight ahead at the street.

“Why would you do all this?”

“Do what? Defend you? Believe you?”

“Yes?” he turns his head to finally meet your eyes. His are serious and sad. “You know as well as I do that I only ever… my first–and often only–priority is always me, so why would you…”

“Stay?”

He quiets down and looks away again.

“Cause you’re my birdy, my pup, or whatever. I know you, and you said you didn’t go and see her, and even if you did, we were broken up, and you were free to do whatever. I wouldn’t be mad, I believe you. You’re my best friend and so far from selfish there is.”

You’re rambling, trying to get your point across. Jeongguk keeps his head straight, not looking at you beside him.

“Besides, did you see her when we left? She pulled her stomach back in and went to drink at the bar. She’s just trying to sabotage.”

It’s cold outside, the freezing air starting to get to you. You lean into his side.

A moment of silence passes. Your head is at a standstill while your fingers start to go numb.

“Are you okay?”

Surprised, you lean away to look up at his face. His eyes are on the way you’re holding his hand like your life depends on it.

“Yeah. I’m just trying to keep you from leaving me,” you laugh nervously. “Cause, if you leave me here all alone because of this, I think I’ll break.”

His eyes widen subtly, and he turns to face you entirely. “I’m not… I’m not leaving,” he assures, pulling you closer and hugging you to his chest. “It’s cold, let’s get inside.”

But your feet aren’t moving like his, and he has to stop and look back at you where you stand. 

“Come here,” he nods, and when you don’t, he pulls on your hand until you’re in his arms. “Thank you for standing up for me. I’m not leaving. It’s… hard, it really is, but I’m not leaving. Now, let’s go get our stuff and say goodbye and we can go home, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod meagerly against his warm chest. You’re quick to let go when the first signs come, but not with Jeongguk. Not anymore. Even if it’s a pathetic attempt, you have to fight at least a bit.

At home in his apartment, you lie on top of him between the warm sheets, and you talk it out. How you definitely knew Tzuyu was faking but also how you wouldn't have left even if he found out he had a kid on the way. He offered to help you raise Namjoon’s baby, back when all you were were friends, and how could you do anything but the same for him? You love him.

Jeongguk tells you that it’s difficult to break old habits, but that he at least thinks he’s on the right path. Tzuyu never reaches out again.

Eventually, the day of Jeongguk’s first test arrives. At least according to him. It’s your first holiday together, not including Christmas because no one who is a part of a Christmas-celebrating society could ever evade its snowy claws. 

It’s Valentine’s.

Valentine’s has never held much importance to you; you’ve never been with anyone who really wanted to celebrate it, and it honestly doesn’t matter a whole lot to you either.

Still, you buy a bracelet for Jeongguk, the same kind he really liked but accidentally broke when he forgot to remove it at the gym. And you pick up a single red rose on your way from the train station. Unfortunately, you had an early meeting in a different city and thus had to spend the previous night at a hotel.

Like always, you steer your steps toward Jeongguk’s apartment without as much as a glance toward your own. You tap your thumb and index finger together. You haven’t heard from him today, and that makes you a little nervous that today’s date might’ve slipped his mind. 

It would definitely sadden you, but only because you know how shit that would make him feel. Especially now that you’ve gotten him a gift.

You could’ve reminded him, but you also know how bad it would make him feel like to have to be reminded. Or like you don’t trust him to remember.

So your plan is to not make a big deal out of it if it turns out that he has forgotten it.

The apartment is quiet when you unlock the door and step inside, and the moment you bend down to remove your shoes, you’re reminded how incredibly tired you are.

”Gguk?” You call, taking your jacket off too and hanging it on the coat rack. ”Love?”

To be on the safe side, you place the plastic-wrapped rose on the shelf for the moment.

”In the bedroom,” his voice rings.

Having missed him for more than twenty four hours, you immediately set your sight on the closed bedroom door.

You’re not sure what you expected Jeongguk to be doing inside, maybe napping or watching something on his laptop. Perhaps even cleaning out his closet. 

What you didn’t expect was to be greeted by him in the bed, seemingly naked and tied up.

It makes you falter in your step as you take him in. His naked chest and arms, hands tied by rope to the headboard, his messy black hair, and the way the sheets rest just above his hips, dangerously low.

”How long have you been like that?” you ask, eyeing the rope. It doesn’t look like something he can get out of by himself. ”What if there was a fire or something?”

Jeongguk smiles, ”Don’t worry, I only slipped my hands into them as I heard you unlock the door.”

”Oh. Okay. Good. …So… why are you tied up?” you question, continuing to look him up and down. Truth be told, you’ve never seen anything more mouthwatering.

”Well, it’s Valentine’s—happy Valentine’s—and I remember you saying that you wished you could tie me up like two weeks ago? So… you can. Or, I mean, I am.”

You chuckle fondly, wrangling your sweatshirt from your body and leaving you in a t-shirt and jeans. ”Happy Valentine’s.”

Next to go are the jeans, and you catch Jeongguk’s wandering eyes as you slide them down your legs.

”But you do remember that I said I wanted to tie you up just so I could subject you to so much cuddling you’d probably die? Right?”

He watches you put a knee on the bed and then crawl toward him.

”I know. And I’m giving you the opportunity to do that, or just… whatever you want,” he smirks happily.

”So,” you start, your hand coming to rest at his sternum while you lean your weight on your other arm, ”your gift to me is… you?”

But your words aren’t very well-thought out, and you see his smile slowly fall and hesitancy color his eyes.

”Uh, no, I—I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I—there’s a present for you in the kitchen too, but this was just—”

”Gguk, I didn’t mean it like that,” you interrupt, his heartbeat strong under your palm. 

”I’d rather have you and get to spend time with you than literally anything else.”

Jeongguk relaxes, and you smile, running your fingers up to trace his collarbones. ”Do you mind if I nap for like half an hour before deciding what to do with you? I couldn’t sleep at the hotel, so I’m absolutely exhausted.”

”Of course, you can do whatever you want,” he assures, confidence visibly creeping back up.

”Good,” you stand from the bed, pretending you don’t notice him staring at your ass as you flick the lights off.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and as they do, you climb back into the bed, searching for Jeongguk’s warm body. Your hand touches his stomach, and you trail it down to grasp the duvet and pull it higher over your bodies.

”I missed you,” you whisper, laying your head on Jeongguk’s chest and releasing an exhausted breath. ”It’s so hard to sleep without you these days—oh, you really are naked,” you chuckle when you lower your hand and feel a bit more skin than you expected.

Jeongguk’s only response is to laugh at your discovery as if that wasn’t the whole point.

”I guess it’s only fair that I…” you sit up to pull the t-shirt over your head and chuck it—along with your bra—to the floor.

You pretend like you can’t make out the almost pained expression on your boyfriend’s face when you lie back down again.

”Aren’t you gonna release me?” He asks, bewildered. ”If you’re going to sleep?”

It makes you snicker, ”I don’t know, I think I’m pretty fond of this arrangement.”

You hear Jeongguk sigh in defeat and acceptance, but you still lift your head to look at his face. ”Is it uncomfortable?”

The reassuring smile he wears is sweet when he shakes his head. ”No, it’s fine. Sleep.”

But having your hands suspended at any angle for a longer period of time would make anyone uncomfortable, and so you sit up once more, hands reaching up to release him from the ropes.

”Don’t get too happy; I’m definitely tying you back up later. If you want, of course.”

But the smile on Jeongguk’s face only grows as he shakes the blood back into his fingers, and before you know it, you’re on your back, and he’s turned to the side, leaning over you.

”I thought you were supposed to be sweet, yet here you are, baring your boobs but not letting me touch.”

You chuckle at what’s become a recurring theme, and instinctively, your hands reach for his face.

”Oh, no,” he tuts playfully, leaning all his weight on his elbow and gathering both your wrists in his other hand like he’s become so fond of doing.

”Gguk,” you complain dramatically, ”I wanted to touch.”

”Oh, I know that, but did you ever think about me? I think it’s definitely my turn.”

Being exposed before his eyes isn’t scary, it’s more of a thrill that makes you hold your breath for a second or two. It’s not scary because although Jeongguk is a prime specimen of a man, putting literally everyone else to shame and appearing like he definitely knows it, there’s always that soft, loving hue to his eyes.

Jeongguk meets your gaze, and when he doesn’t find anything but love and happiness—and maybe a bit of a faux pout—he brings your wrists over your head to hold in his other hand.

His free hand mimics your earlier actions, trailing a straight line from the middle of your collar bones, down to your sternum. Then he traces the outer shape of your left breast, where the fat meets your ribcage.

You let him continue with his feather light ministrations, the touch intensifying your tiredness.

”Gguk,” you whine again, ”Let me…”

You see him tear his eyes from your breasts and look at your hands that are making grabbing motions. It makes him laugh.

”You should’ve thought of that before you decided to be weak.”

You pout. ”I know you want to, though. Just imagine… my hands in your hair… on your back…”

You’re too sleepy to start something sexual, you both know that. Despite your eyes being half-closed by now, you’re able to make out the flash of contemplation. It makes you smile happily, and you can’t believe you ever doubted Jeongguk’s need for physical touch. Your physical touch.

In the end, it wins and he lets go of your hands. A heavy sigh, containing only happiness and relief of being with someone you love, slips past your lips the moment he lowers his head enough for you to tangle your hands in his hair.

They work almost on autopilot, the movements of carding through his dark hair so familiar by now, and they only travel down to the top of his shoulders to hug him to you shortly before you lose your consciousness. You’ve never felt so safe, not with your body or mind. And not with your heart either.

Turns out that Jeongguk, except for gifting himself, also prepared to cook dinner, and when you later exchange gifts, he gives you a blue polaroid camera and the sweetest little pendant necklace. He never once forgets Valentine’s.

Speaking of cameras and pictures, not long after, Jeongguk reveals something to you.

You glance at yourself in Jeongguk’s bathroom mirror as you place your toothbrush into the cup and smoothen your hair down.

He turns his head when you step out, smiling at your outfit that consists of one of his large t-shirts and a pair of clean cotton panties. Otherwise, he’s exactly where you left him.

”Your turn,” you reach the bed, crawling on top of it to sit beside him. He’s truly a vision, lying naked and on his back, his softening cock resting on his lower stomach.

Your hand finds his warm chest that’s not heaving anymore. ”Or do you want me to clean you up?”

Jeongguk lifts his large hand to put it over yours. ”No, I’ll do it. Just… in a minute.”

Slowly, his smile falls, and he turns his focus onto the ceiling. ”I… need to tell you something.”

The change in mood, how his voice suddenly sounds both serious and nervous, starts to worry you.

”What is it?” You ask gently.

”You know… in college? When we… slept together?”

You pull your hand from out underneath his to lay it over it instead, your thumb stroking the back of it. ”Yeah?”

”Well, after… when you were asleep, I…”

You watch him gulp.

”I took a picture of you.”

You feel your eyebrows lift slightly as you consider his confession and what it means. You were naked and unconscious, and the way he seems so regretful forces you to wonder what the purpose was. Proof for the bet? That he succeeded in bedding a virgin? But you know he wasn’t with you for the bet anymore by then, so what makes him so nervous?

”I get that you probably think it was creepy, and I’m sorry. I—I was never going to show it to anyone, and I didn’t. It was just… for me. N—not to jerk off over or anything sexual, just as a memory.”

You bite your lip, eyes lingering on your hands. Although his worried words could creep you out, they don’t. You know Jeongguk, even back then, and you trust him. Besides, by how he tends to hate himself over the smallest things he considers mistakes, you don’t want to know how he’d deal with having spread nude and unconscious photos of you.

”Do you still have it?”

At that, he looks at you, seemingly surprised at your soft curiosity.

”Uh, yeah… I do,” he admits, looking away again as if he’d hoped you wouldn’t ask. “I’ll delete it right now if you want.”

”Can I see it?”

Surprised, he nods once, sitting up and reaching for his phone on the nightstand. You see him put his code into the device–a code you already know–and navigate through it.

He’s biting his lip nervously when he hands you the phone, awaiting your reaction.

You’re not exactly sure what you expected the picture to portray. Well, you, of course, judging by his words, but definitely not what you’re faced with.

The photo isn’t crystal clear like the ones Jeongguk’s expensive camera produces. It’s a bit grainy, obviously taken in a low-light setting. And you see yourself. You’re lying on Jeongguk’s chest, and sure, you look to be naked, but the picture is taken from above so all you see is the parts of your upper back that’s not covered by your hair.

The hair also covers some of your face, so it’s not even a hundred percent clear that it’s you. And the best part: Jeongguk. He looks carefree, smiling with his lower face nuzzled into your hair as well, and he looks into the camera with his big, brown eyes. He looks so young, so happy.

“I’ll still delete it if you want,” you hear from beside you.

But you hold the phone to your chest when you look up to meet his eyes. “Can I have it?”

Surprised, Jeongguk only nods, and you turn your attention back on the phone, sending it to your own device.

“You’re not upset?” he asks quietly, “not even a bit?”

“No,” you answer earnestly. “It’s not… you didn’t have bad intentions, and… I find it sweet. Besides, it’s the only picture of us from back then.” 

“Yeah… I just couldn’t delete it. I’ve looked at it so much over the years, probably more than what was good for me, but I just…”

Jeongguk trails off, and you understand him, you really do. You don’t know if you would’ve looked at it if the roles were reversed, but you know you definitely wouldn’t have deleted it either.

“But now we can take all the pictures,” you grin before realizing something that makes your eyes widen.

“What?” Jeongguk questions, but you’re already off the bed, opening the drawer where he keeps some of his camera gear. And your blue polaroid camera.

“Give me your hand,” you ask as you’re starting it up, looking through the viewfinder.

“No, not my hands.”

You lower the camera from your face. He still doesn’t have a thread of clothing on his body, but his hands are what he’s worried about, “Why not?”

“Because they’re not nice?” he states before reaching for the camera. “I can take one of yours if you want?”

Your mouth is left open as you blink at him, and you definitely don’t let him take the camera. “Jeongguk, I’m taking full offense by that. Your hands are so nice. Look.”

His eyes leave yours, and you watch him lower them to take in the sight before him. Your hand holding his, slowly intertwining your fingers. 

“Not only are your hands, like, very masculine and attractive to look at,” you smile cheekily, stroking the back of his hand against your cheek, “but they’re so warm. And they fit so well with mine. Not to brag but I’ve held a lot of hands in my days.”

He raises his eyebrows, making you laugh. “But yours are by far my favorite to hold. And not only do they help when mine aren’t strong enough, but you know exactly how to use them to make me feel better.”

Jeongguk’s smile grows suspiciously wide, and you stop to think about what you said.

“Gguk, I meant when my back hurts.”

“Yeah, but how am I supposed to think about anything else when my hands were touching a lot of other things like ten minutes ago?”

You roll your eyes, “Of course. I guess that just proves my point, doesn’t it? I love you, and your hands, and everything you use them for.”

You position your intertwined hands in the prettiest way you can before putting the camera to your eye once more. This time, he lets you, and a few seconds later, a small square polaroid comes out.

You’ve barely placed the camera and the picture, face down to develop, on the nightstand when Jeongguk pulls you down by your shirt. Landing beside him, you giggle as he pulls you closer.

“You know, I really can’t believe this,” he states, smiling cheekily.

“Believe what?”

“You know, I used to fantasize about you. Even when we were just friendly neighbors, I used to picture you in my clothes.”

The fabric of his white cotton t-shirt stretches as he pulls on it. “I thought about you, wearing them cause you missed me, but I never thought–”

Of course, you know what it is he never thought would happen. You and him being together.

“I like wearing them,” you admit. “Especially like this, when you’ve just worn them, and they’re still warm and smell like you.”

His smile widens, and he looks even more youthful than normally. “You like how I smell?”

“Gguk, I’ve told you already, yes. I love the way you smell. Both when you’re clean and wearing cologne but also when you’re in the middle of working out. It’s gotta be pheromones and biology,” you mumble.

It has to. Because even when he’s sweaty and the cologne’s worn off, Jeongguk smells so… attractive to you.

“Gotta be that monkey brain,” he swears, making you laugh.

“Definitely.”

With your head on your pillow, you close your eyes, but it isn’t long until you feel Jeongguk do something with your hair. For a minute, you let him, until you’re too curious.

“What are you doing?”

“You know what else I fantasized about?”

“Uh… my tits?”

He snorts, and you open your eyes.

“Yes. Always. But something that isn’t your body. Or well, I guess it’s sorta about your body.”

“Hmm, I don’t know?”

“I’ve always wanted to photograph you. Like this, intimate but not necessarily naked and with your hair all over the pillow. In my bed.”

So that’s what he was doing, positioning your hair into what would make a good picture.

“I hope you’ll let me do that someday. No one else has to see them if you don’t want to. Honestly, I’ve got so many ideas for shoots, if you’ll let me.”

You watch his face as he concentrates on a strand of your hair he keeps between his fingers. It brings you endless happiness that despite everything, Jeongguk followed his dreams and became a photographer, and the smile that pulls on your mouth surely reflects that.

“You’re saying I inspire you?”

“Of course. You’re the love of my life.”

You stop breathing. It’s one thing to know that he loves you, that you’re still his first love and possibly his last too, but it’s an entirely different thing to hear it. The love of his life.

He doesn’t look nervous even though you’re pretty much rendered speechless. He just looks happy, warm, brown eyes gazing down at you.

Finally, your words return to you, and you lift your hand to the back of his neck. “And you’re mine. I can’t say I’ll be a good model, but you can try if you want.”

“Doubt that. I think you’ll be perfect.”

Speaking of his profession, you’re reminded of another thing you’re sure you’ve talked about briefly but still want to bring up again, just to make sure.

“Also… I’m sorry for asking you to photograph the wedding.”

It’ll always fill you with guilt, knowing what pain you were inflicting on him, asking him to do that. And just as much, knowing that he would’ve done it without complaints.

“It’s okay,” he assures, and you believe him, that he’s worked through a lot of it. “Have you talked to him recently?”

You don’t need to hear his name to know who Jeongguk means. “Yeah. Around a week ago. I found an old shirt of his, so I asked if he wanted it back. Turned out to be his favorite shirt that he thought he lost years ago, so he said he’ll try to come by and pick it up.”

“Oh,” Jeongguk says, curious instead of saddened or suspicious. “...Do you miss him?”

You lift your hand to trace his jaw with your fingers absentmindedly, “Honestly, I think I do. But it’s… I sometimes miss him, just as a person? Someone who I shared a lot of my life with. A friend. It’s sad what had to happen to us, and I know it was my fault, so I guess… I don’t know. I don’t think about him every day, and I know the good days and moments didn’t outweigh the… bad match.”

“Do you feel guilty?”

“Yeah. But I know it was for his best too.”

Jeongguk plays with the hair behind your ear, looking deeper in thought than a minute ago.

“But you know, it couldn’t be clearer to me? I might miss him sometimes, a gloomy feeling in my chest, but when I think of you, having to part from you… it hurts. I missed you so much after college, and just the thought of not seeing you, I–”

You’re rarely this emotional, but something about the way he looks at you tonight has you choking up.

“Don’t cry,” he soothes, and you take a deep breath to blink the tears away before they escape. “I understand. You’re allowed to miss him, I don’t mind that, and I’m not worried.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, “I hope so dearly that he finds what I have, someone that means to him what you mean to me.”  

Everything’s a blur. Well, not everything but some things are. You and Yuna have been dancing for what feels like hours and hours, until your surroundings were spinning a bit too much and you couldn't anymore.

At the moment, you’ve plopped down on the black leather seat of a booth, Yuna on the other side, and your eyes focus mindlessly on people still on the dance floor. 

You start to feel tired after a while, but you’re not exactly sure how long you’re sitting there. A deep exhale leaves your lips as you rest your head on the table, your hair surely going everywhere.

It’s easy to say that you’re a bit more drunk than you’ve been in a very long time.

A hand starts to rub your shoulder, but you hardly notice until a voice also calls your name. Tiredly, you lift your head, a smile immediately pulling on your lips when you’re faced with your favorite pair of brown eyes.

“Gguk?”

He hums, hands fixing your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

“What… you doing here?” you ask, and to no surprise at all, it comes out… a bit slurred.

“Yuna called me,” he smirks, nodding his head toward your friend who holds her phone to her ear, also looking tired as hell. Maybe a little less than you, though. “Yoongi’s on his way for her.”

“And you came for me?” you can’t help the adoring pout from forming.

Jeongguk laughs, grasping your arm. “Of course. Now, can you walk outside by yourself? I’d carry you but people might think I’m kidnapping you.”

You nod, letting him help you out of the booth, and with his support, you’re able to walk. After hearing Jeongguk greet Yoongi, you turn to wave goodbye to Yuna–you know you’ll be texting in the morning anyway–and allow Jeongguk to lead the way.

He walks slowly, and you hold onto his arm maybe a little too tight. When you catch a whiff of him and are reminded how incredibly good he always smells, you can’t resist leaning your head against his arm too, sneakily sniffing him. 

He’s dressed in a basic black sweater and jeans on the baggier side, and he looks so good. As you follow him through the crowded bar, you close your eyes, imagining… him. 

He’s yours, and he’s perfect, and he’s kind, and he’s lovely.

And he’s hot. Stupidly fucking sexy. 

Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of Jeongguk’s car, and he’s leaned over you to fasten your seatbelt. Which you won’t deny is kinda cute of him. But it also leaves you once again enveloped in his masculine scent, and you think your heart might somersault out of your chest.

“There,” he steps back, smiling down at you happily in the most devastating way that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. God damn him for having such a hold on your heart.

Unknowing of your thoughts, he closes the door and rounds the car to get inside on the driver’s side.

You watch his hands as he starts the engine, and you let out the biggest breath you think you’ve ever taken. Jeongguk glances at you briefly with a curious look.

“I’m so happy I found you again,” you slur, feeling almost like you’re about to cry.

Jeongguk just chuckles, filled with fondness. “Technically, wasn’t it me who found you again?”

“What?”

“Yeah? I approached you, so technically, I found you.”

You narrow your eyes, choosing to look out the window, “Don’t make me take it back.”

Jeongguk’s laughter fills the car, and you feel him grasp your hand. It’s sweet, the way he holds it, and he even brings it to his face to kiss the back of it. 

However, somehow, you dropped your mind and it ended up in the gutter. All you can think of at that moment is his mouth. His lips and his tongue and his teeth. You think back to him between your legs, how he places kiss after kiss just like that one on your legs, higher and higher until he–

You squirm in the car seat, and Jeongguk lowers your still intertwined hands to focus on the road.

Five minutes later, and he pulls up at your shared street. Unsurprisingly, he exits the car and heads over to your side, opening your door while you're still struggling with the seatbelt. It looks like he wants to help you, but it snaps open right before he can. 

Like a real gentleman, Jeongguk offers you his hand and pulls you up and out of the car, closing the door behind you and locking the car. 

“Now…” he starts, and you’d recognize that spark of mischief anywhere, even when you’re plastered.

Your eyes widen when the ground disappears from under your feet, but you’re experienced enough by now to automatically hook your arm around his neck as he carries you bridal style toward the heavy door.

It takes you two tries to enter the code and thirty seconds to even remember it in the first place. Meanwhile, Jeongguk is just waiting patiently. Maybe also quietly chuckling.

He then carries you to the elevator, where you at least manage to press the number six on the first try.

Being carried by him makes your drunk heart melt, but it doesn’t help very much with how you were feeling in the car. Or even the bar.

Because underneath the sweatshirt, you can feel practically every solid muscle in his arms and chest. Completely unashamed, you stare at him through the mirror in the elevator, not even reacting when he raises a brow at you back. 

It’s just everything about him. His fucking hair, framing his face so perfectly, even when it’s still pretty short. And his neck… you turn your head. You’re able to see the faintest outline of that huge fucking vein that really pops out when Jeongguk’s doing strenuous exercise, and you want really really badly to kiss his neck.

Unfortunately, the elevator dings right then, and Jeongguk steps out. You lean your head against him as he walks to his door, and then you sigh when he has to let you down to open the door.

Surely, picking up on it, he wastes no time in picking you back up though when you’re both inside and your shoes are off.

“Time for bed,” he smirks, but doesn’t steer his steps toward the bedroom but the bathroom. “But let's get your makeup off first.”

“Nooo, Gguk, I’m too tired,” you whine, closing your eyes and going limp in his arms to prove your point.

For a second, he stops. Then he turns around and enters the bedroom instead. You keep your eyes closed even as he lays you down on the bed and leaves the room.

It’s quiet and peaceful for a moment. At least a bit, truth be told, your ears still ring a tad from the bar’s loud music.

Then you feel something kinda wet against your cheek.

“What’re you doin?” you ask, struggling a bit to open your eyes.

“I know you’ve said you feel bad if you sleep in your makeup,” he answers warmly, “So I’m removing it.”

It’s your makeup wipes he’s using, you realize. You also note that he’s very careful, wiping the black eyeliner and mascara from your eyes before taking a new wipe and going over the rest of your face. 

If you were sober, you’d gush to yourself about how nice it feels, not only to have Jeongguk’s gentle hands on your face, but to be cared for like that. 

“Okay, I’m done. Now, sit up.”

A bit unwillingly, you flutter your eyes open again. Jeongguk is sitting on the bed beside you, holding your toothbrush out to you in one hand and a cup in the other.

“Or do you want me to brush your teeth too?” he jokes, but once again, if you were sober, you would’ve thought about how he doesn’t look like he’d mind all that much.

With a quiet huff–that grants another chuckle from Jeongguk–you sit up and accept the toothbrush. He sets the cup down on the bedside table before he disappears into the bathroom.

Left alone, you decide to just get the brushing over with, stopping once your mouth is full of foam to spit it out in the cup. Turns out that the task also wakes you up a bit, and when you’re done, you think that you might as well go and put the things back in the bathroom.

You don’t know what you expected because Jeongguk has most likely never in his entire life slept voluntarily in a shirt, but when you enter the bathroom, you’re faced with his naked back.

“You done?”

Your head snaps up, and you meet his eyes through the mirror above the sink. He’s just putting back his own toothbrush and turns to take yours as well, rinsing it and the cup before placing them back.

It’s when you see him (un)dressed for bed, in only a pair of black shorts that you remember that you’re still in your black jeans and intricate top. Fittingly, you also spot the t-shirt he must’ve been wearing under the sweatshirt, laying discarded over the washing machine.

Almost too happily, you grab it, smiling cheekily when Jeongguk notices what you’re doing.

“No, not that one. It’s dirty,” he warns, but you hold it up briefly, and there aren’t any stains on the white fabric.

“No, it’s not,” you bring it to your face to breathe in his scent. It smells just like him and not bad or dirty in any way.

“Give it,” he warns, but you can tell even in your drunken state that he’s not all that serious. And you want it.

“No.”

He tries to swipe it from you, but you hold it to your chest with everything you’ve got. “Gguk, I’m not giving up. It’s mine.”

“Fine,” he sighs in defeat, still smiling in amusement.

When he goes to wash his face, and you’re certain he won’t try to steal it from you again, you pull your top over your head and thereafter unhook your bra. They fall to the floor, and you put Jeongguk’s shirt on. 

Usually pretty good at picking up your stuff, you decide to leave your clothes in a pile on Jeongguk’s bathroom floor, adding your jeans to it after pushing them down your legs.

However Jeongguk, still smiling as he turns around after having dried his face on a towel, doesn’t share your intentions and bends down to pick them up. He places them where he originally put his clothes, and then he approaches the door and you. 

You back up as he comes closer, noticing how his smile smoothly turns into a very attractive smirk. He’s so… so.. attractive. So gorgeous, so stunning.

“Time for bed, okay?”

You peer up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Carry me?”

He laughs, but closes the distance to pick you up–by your thighs this time–for the nth time only that night. Like always, you wrap your arm around his neck, enjoying the feeling of his warm muscles through your–his–shirt.

He heads for your side of the bed and tries to lay you down again, but you don’t let go of his neck, instead you wrap your other arm around it too.

“Are you gonna let go so I can get in bed too?”

“No.”

“No?” he chuckles. One of your hands ventures just below the back of his neck to feel his shoulder muscles.

“Gguk?”

“Hmm?”

“I need you to rail me.”

He stills, but doesn’t redirect his gaze from your face. You think you hear him let out an amused breath, but you can’t really focus on that because soon after, you feel his hand on your naked thigh.

The touch is light, just his fingers stroking slowly over the skin on your outer thigh.

“I want to do everything you ask of me, believe me,” he smiles down at you. “But not that. Not while you’re drunk.”

“But you’ve fucked me while I was drunk before,” you pout, arms pulling him closer. “And you’re so hot, I want you all over me. And in me. Please, Gguk? I want you.”

“Yeah, when I was drunk too,” he chuckles. “It’s different like this; I’m not gonna do it.”

If you were sober, you would’ve moved on already, but drunk you is not as clear in the head, and she keeps sulking.

“You know what?”

“What?” you ask, entirely mesmerized by Jeongguk’s pretty face.

“If you’re a good girl and go to sleep now, I’ll ‘rail you’ tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Sure.”

“Okay then.”

He waits for you to let go of him, but you don’t. 

“Honey, you gotta let go of me so I can sleep too.”

“Can I kiss you at least? Not even with tongue, just a kiss?”

Laughing quietly, Jeongguk nods, and you immediately press your lips against his. But you can’t really stop yourself from also moving your mouth and pressing short kisses to the rest of his face. He laughs but lets you kiss him all you want.

“Best boyfriend ever. And so sweet and kind. Love you so much I think I might die.”

“Don’t die, please. Are you done?” he questions when you loosen your hold on him just enough to look at his face.

“No, never!” But before you can kiss his cheek for the seventh time, Jeongguk ducks under your arms. “What? No,” you whine.

“Hold on,” he chuckles as he rounds the bed, “I’m just getting into bed.”

With half-closed eyes, you watch him get under the duvet only to hold it open for you, and you don’t need more of an invitation than that.

Your head is pounding when you wake up the next morning. The sun shining through the blinds is too bright, and you groan quietly.

Right then, Jeongguk enters the bedroom, holding a tall glass of water in one hand and something small in his other. He gives you an empathic look.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like death,” you reply, trying to look at him properly but it’s too bright. You can at least tell he hasn’t gotten dressed yet, still shirtless and in the shorts he slept in.

“Figured. Here, take this and you’ll hopefully feel better.”

You sit up and reach your hand out to take the painkillers from him. Once you’ve popped them into your mouth, he hands you the glass, and you chase them down with the water.

Placing the half-empty glass on the bedside table, you lie back down with a huff.

“Sleep some more?” Jeongguk assumes, and you nod in response.

“Okay,” he heads back toward the door, “let me know if you need anything. And of course, when you’re feeling better, it seems like I have some railing to do.”

His teasing words have you almost choking on your own saliva, and when you sit up halfway to look at him just as he’s leaving the room, he’s smirking, clearly very entertained.

“You’re a menace!” you call, hearing his laughter. 

With warm cheeks, you bury your face in your pillow.

At around two p.m., you flutter your eyes open, finally feeling better. At least good enough to leave the bed. 

So you do. But you don’t bother getting dressed, instead exiting Jeongguk’s bedroom in just his shirt and your panties. 

The TV sounds through the apartment and you soon find him in the living room, still shirtless and tapping away at his laptop. 

You’ve had some time to… uh, consider your actions from the night before, and you know you’re a single suggestive word from Jeongguk away from blushing.

He looks up at you when you approach, but the smile he gives is more sweet than smug.

“Feeling better?” 

You nod, grabbing a blanket from the armrest because it is a little bit chilly in your current outfit. It makes you miss the warmth of his bed.

He places the laptop beside him on the couch, and you take the opportunity to climb onto his lap with the blanket hanging from your shoulders and cuddling up to him.

“You’re so warm,” you groan, leaning your head against his neck and placing your hands against his chest.

Jeongguk rubs your back soothingly and you can hear his chuckle.

“By the way, I’m sorry for yesterday. For being annoying and, uh, coming onto you like that.”

“Oh, absolutely don’t worry about that. If anything it was cute and quite entertaining. Kinda also pretty good for my confidence. I’m sorry for teasing you about it.”

You straighten up on his lap, now able to look him in the eyes. “Gguk, don’t apologize. You know that I think you’re funny? And that I think it’s even funnier when you think you’re funny. Besides, you were a lot more teasing in college and it didn’t exactly stop me from falling head first for you.”

He pulls you closer, gazing up at you lovingly. “And if your confidence wasn’t great before last night, I’m sure it’s perfectly fine now with the way I was stroking your ego,” you huff.

At least Jeongguk took your words to heart, because what he says next makes you gasp.

“It wasn’t the only thing you wanted to stroke last night.”

“Jeongguk, oh my God!”

As soon as you’re able to pick your jaw off the ground, you lower your hands to Jeongguk’s naked sides to tickle him. He laughs, more so because of your reaction than your tickling, but you don’t care.

Eventually, you stop, trailing your hands back up his chest and to his face as you’re both catching your breaths. “I love you, Gguk. Just the way you are, without any filters.”

“I’ll make you regret saying that,” he jokes.

“Doubt it,” you smile happily before taking on a cheekier tone, “Also…”

Eyebrows raised, Jeongguk hums questioningly.

“…I think you have some railing to do.”

He blinks a few times before his lips form a smirk, “Oh? Well, your wish is my command.”

And with one hand on your back, he manages to somehow lay you down on your back on the couch and lean over you, looking like a literal dream with his slightly messy black hair and teasing eyes. You’re so happy, and your cheeks hurt from smiling.

“I mean, only if you want to.”

“Honey, you do know that all you’re wearing is panties and my shirt, right? I couldn’t resist you even if I wanted to.”

The seasons change, and soon, winter melts away.

When summer arrives–your first as a couple–it’s only natural that you tag along to Jin and Mina’s vacation house. By now, Jeongguk is much more relaxed around you and his friends, to the point where they aren’t as scared to tease him anymore. For a long while, they walked on eggshells around him. Well, sometimes they still do, at least when it comes to certain topics, but not as much.

“So what would you pick for me, then? There are two that people usually pick for me, can you guess them?”

You concentrate on Tae’s face where he sits on the other side of the wooden outdoor table. He keeps a neutral face, skin sun-kissed and black hair slightly bleached.

“I have no idea. Penguin?”

“Penguin?!”

“Yeah?” you shrug, “Is that so weird?”

“Yes? People usually say tiger or bear.”

“Oh. Well, I can sorta see it, but I wouldn’t say it was very clear. Not like…

“Jeongguk.”

“Jeongguk. Okay, I can agree on that one,” Taehyung says, observing the man sitting beside you.

“Yeah, I don’t usually go around, liking people to animals, you know, but I’ve never seen anyone resemble a deer so much.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, “A deer?! Are you crazy, woman?”

You look at him questioningly before turning to your boyfriend, inspecting his face like you don’t spend most of your waking time gazing lovingly at him. 

“...Kangaroo?”

“Okay, you’re mental. You’re supposed to know him better than anyone, but you can’t even tell that he’s a bunny?”

“A bunny?”

Your face is colored by confusion as Taehyung rises from his seat. “Yes.”

“I don’t know. I mean… it’s the Bambi eyes for me. So either a deer or a kangaroo. Kangaroos are basically just jacked up deer that are able to walk–hop–upright. Boxing and all that too.”

“I get your point,” he hums, grabbing your boyfriend by the hair. Jeongguk, who was reading something on his phone, lets him but narrows his eyes.

“What are you doing?” you ask, watching him attempt to start a fire with Jeongguk’s hair between his hands. 

Taehyung steps back, smiling proudly when one side of Jeongguk’s hair stands upright, like a… cone? Quickly, he nods to himself and repeats the process on the other half.

“Look at this. Ggukkie, do the thing.”

“No.”

“Yes, do the thing.”

“Fine,” Jeongguk sighs, looking at you and scrunching his nose. Even his front teeth peek out, and it’s absolutely the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Oh god,” you gasp. “Tae, you’re right.” Naturally, your hands fly to Jeongguk’s face, holding it in your hands with wonder in your eyes. “You are so cute. My bunny.”

Slightly more accepting of your shenanigans than Tae’s, Jeongguk lets you squish his cheeks and kiss his pouty lips.

“Love you too, bye.”

After ending the call to your mother, you lock your phone and place it into your pocket. You hadn’t talked to her in a week, so she had lots to say. About thirty minutes of it, actually.

When you return to Taehyung and Jeongguk, Jin and Jimin have joined as well, talking amongst themselves. As you near the table, you let yourself take in the sight of your boyfriend’s back. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with his black shorts, and you particularly like… well, his back. 

Reaching him, you drape yourself over him from behind.

“Hi,” you greet quietly, not wanting to interrupt whatever they were talking about, and you place your hand and the apple you’d retrieved from the house in front of his face.

Jeongguk holds your hand still as he takes a bite, mumbling something to Jimin soon after.

You’re in the middle of very discretely sniffing Jeongguk’s hair when a call of your name grabs your attention. Turning your head, you find Jin looking at you, and soon enough, the rest of the guys too.

“Was there a certain time when you realized you loved Jeongguk? Like, do you know the exact moment you fell in love?”

“Yeah,” you answer casually, taking a bite of the red apple.

“Really? When?” Jin wonders, and you feel a surprised and curious Jeongguk try to turn his head in order to look at you.

Unable to see your boyfriend’s face, you ask him, “You remember when we used to study in the library?”

“Yes?” 

“That one time when you first complimented my nails?”

“Yeah…”

“You also warmed my hands in yours, and I knew then.”

“What?” he breathes, “But that was… It was…”

“Early on?” you continue for him, “Yeah, but you were so sweet to me. And funny. I felt like I got to know you so quickly, and you really brightened my mornings. I just really enjoyed being around you, so honestly, I was down bad before it even started.”

“He’s crying!” Jin laughs, clapping his hands together.

Jeongguk huffs, doing something with his hands you can only guess is drying his tears. “No, I’m not!”

“Told you, you owe me twenty!”

You gasp, “You guys are mean, betting on who can make him cry,” you scold, hugging Jeongguk to your body and rubbing his arm.

“We didn’t. We were just talking about the fact that he’s not as big of a crybaby anymore. He only really cries for one person.”

“Yeah,” Jimin adds, “It’s kinda cute, actually. He’s all tough now, but anything remotely sentimental from or about you, and he’s weeping.”

“Dude, why didn’t I pick her as my target? She’s so sweet–I want someone to be sweet to me, too,” Taehyung complains, making you roll your eyes. If you know one thing, it’s that he does not have the hots for you in any way.

“Why does everyone think I’ll love just anyone?” you question.

“Because you do?” Taehyung replies, one brow raised. “You literally just said that you loved Jeongguk after, like, two weeks.”

“It was more than two weeks. Besides, I’d already had my eyes on him for quite some time.”

“Oh?” Jin voices, curiously leaning in. 

You also think you hear Jeongguk utter a surprised ‘what?’ as he tries to look back up at you again, this time more successful, and you meet his wide eyes.

“I meant, like, appreciating you from afar. In a totally non-creepy way. Everyone knew who all of you were, and I just thought you were handsome.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” he asks, sounding almost distraught.

“Cause I knew you wouldn’t have spared me a second look,” you smile, “We were in totally different leagues.”

“Definitely not true, you’re actually a lot prettier than him,” Jin assures, making you laugh.

“I just knew nothing would come of it. We were in different social circles, and I knew you were into more… casual things. I wasn’t, so it wouldn’t have worked out. Besides, for a period of time, I had a boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah. Asshole,” Jeongguk grumbles.

He continues to complain, and you smile as you hug him tightly.

“I mean, I get why you didn’t talk to me cause I was an ass too, but I still think you should’ve.”

You just chuckle and kiss his cheek.

You’re really, really fond of Jin and Mina’s vacation house. It’s been three days out of seven, and so far, you’ve had a blast.

On the third day, you all squeeze into two cars with the beach as your destination, and the boys are incredibly excited. Remembering when you first met Jeongguk again and he told you that they only play soccer ‘on the beach, during the summer,’ it’s clear that this is what he meant.

You’re not exactly a soccer talent, yourself, so you settle for lying down on your towel with Mina and Ryujin to soak up the sun. 

Unpacking the towel and the book you’re currently reading, the bottle of sunscreen also tumbles out of your bag. You’ve already applied a layer, but as you peer over to the big bag of stuff that the guys brought, you see them excitedly unpack a ball and, while tackling each other over it, run toward the goal posts sticking out of the sand in what could be considered quite a sad excuse for a soccer field. Not that they seem to mind.

“Gguk,” you call, “sunscreen, please.”

“Yes, in a minute,” he calls back, and you see Jimin hit his shoulder softly, most likely teasing him.

“Now, please.”

Defeated, he says something to the rest, probably to continue dividing themselves into teams, before he jogs up to you.

He’s smiling when he reaches you, “Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply, taking in the sight of your incredibly hunky boyfriend. He’s wearing black swimming trunks, matching his dark tattoos and even darker hair. It’s been maybe four months since he cut it last, meaning that it’s at his preferred length, almost obscuring his vision. You, yourself, haven’t been able to make up your mind. Every time he switches the style of his hair up, you think you fall in love all over again. 

Not only that, but two months ago, he surprised you with a lip piercing. The silver ring glimmers in the sun where it sits snug around his bottom lip, and it moves when he talks. 

Sometimes, or honestly, more than he probably should, he plays with it. You try to remind him not to bite at it to spare his teeth and the not fully healed piercing, but he forgets. And, he looks insanely hot, concentrating on something and biting his lip.

“You have to take care of yourself, okay? For me at least?”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just that I’m so excited.”

You grin, incredibly endeared, and open the bottle. 

“Oh, I can do it, you don’t have to. I’m a grown man, after all.”

You ignore his smirk, squirting some into your hand before offering him the bottle. “I can help do your back?”

He only nods at that, turning his back to you. But as soon as you lay your eyes on his wide back, you realize you might’ve overestimated yourself. How could you just slather some sunscreen on him when he’s so… tan, and when you put your sunscreen-free hand on him, he’s so… warm…

You’re only human, and you do end up breaking and wrapping your arms around his waist instead. Only wearing a bikini, he’s so warm and firm against your skin, and Jeongguk, who’s started applying the white cream to his arms, only chuckles at your dreamy sigh.

“I love you,” you mumble earnestly with your cheek pressed against his back.

“I… know?”

His slight hesitancy makes you snort, and he tries to look at you from over his shoulder. You tighten your arms around his waist.

“What am I supposed to say when I’m not allowed to say it back?”

“I don’t know, and you are allowed to say it back, but you have to agree that it relieves a lot of pressure to not be expected to, right? I know that you love me, and you know that I love you, and it shouldn’t be expected as a response. You say it because you want to, when you want to.”

“No, you’re definitely right. It’s just that you say it so much that I never get the chance to? I wanna have a nice moment and tell you that I love you, but you always beat me to it. In fact, not only do you grab the nice moments, but you hoard all the moments.”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem. You gotta improve your game,” you shrug. “Get good, you know?”

“I’ll remember that,” he threatens vaguely while chuckling. “Also, weren’t you supposed to sunscreen my back? I’ll need to get back before Jin starts to scream.”

“Yes, but what if you just stay here with me? We can lie on my towel and… hug.”

“Scandalous,” Jeongguk laughs, hoisting your arms higher on his abdomen to spread sunscreen in their previous place.

“Hey! Need him back!” someone calls, and you huff, reluctantly letting go and straightening up.

“Sorry, Jin, a minute!” you inform, finally running your sunscreen-filled hand over Jeongguk’s back. You have to make a conscious effort to not start massaging the spots you know are usually sore, because you feel like his friends won’t ever invite you again if you’re only going to hold your boyfriend hostage.

To make it even harder for you, Jeongguk groans and shifts to give you better access. You don’t even think he does it consciously, just by habit. After all, massaging him after the gym really is a cherished routine.

Soon enough, you pat him on the back, a signal that you’re done, and he turns to give you a small kiss as thanks, also mumbling an ‘I love you’ before he leaves. 

You smile to yourself as you watch him jog to the others, unknowing of the thick layer of sunscreen on his right shoulder and how, hopefully, it’s gonna leave him with tan lines in the shape of a heart.

Karma definitely catches up to you soon enough, though. 

You’re lying on your towel, eyes closed and the book having been abandoned on your bag next to you, when the sun clouds over. You crease your forehead. The forecast didn’t say anything about clouds, and there certainly weren’t any in the sky like… thirty seconds ago.

So you open your eyes.

“Hi,” a smirking Jeongguk greets, standing over you and blocking the sun. “We’re taking a break,” he informs, and behind him, you see Taehyung talking on the phone to someone.

“Oh?” you rise to your elbows, looking up at him. He’s grinning and visibly affected by exercise, his chest still moving rapidly.

“Yeah. So, I thought I’d take you up on that offer of yours.”

“My offer? You mean hugging?” you chuckle, sitting up.

He sets his knees on your towel, reaching for your water bottle, “Yes.”

You watch fondly as he gulps down the water, one drop escaping his mouth to trickle down his neck and onto his chest.

“You know, this is really great. Seeing you have so much fun.”

He moves the bottle from his lips, wiping his mouth with his forearm. “Yeah, this is like the best part of the year. And with you here too? Why are you looking at me like that for?”

“I just think you’re very sweet and handsome. Like, incredibly so.”

“Are you saying you have a crush on me?” he jokes, placing the bottle back beside your bag.

“Yes. The biggest, fattest crush that’s ever crushed. But it seems I’m not the only one.”

“Huh?”

“Three o’clock. The row of women conveniently turned right about this way?”

Discreetly, at least enough, he turns his head. “Oh.”

You snicker at his reaction, wondering if he just hadn’t even noticed the audience as him and his hot friends showed off their athleticism. 

“Hmm. Are you… jealous?” he asks, peering down at you with nothing but trouble in his eyes. 

“No.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I know that you're mine. And why would I deny them the pleasure of watching you? If anything, I wanna show my incredibly talented and hot and sweet boyfriend off.”

“Possessive? I like it.”

“That’s what you gathered?” you ask, tilting your head and watching as he gets on all fours and slowly closes the distance. “What are you up to?”

“Just making sure they know,” he says, his face mere inches from yours. “I mean if anyone was wondering.”

He’s smiling happily right up until the moment he touches his lips to yours. It’s still a bit of an odd feeling, the warm metal against your mouth, but you definitely don’t mind. He knows that too, that you’re only ever supportive of how he chooses to express himself. 

“There are kids here,” you mumble smilingly against his mouth, and he pulls away.

“I know,” he pouts, “but we can still hug.”

“Gguk!” you hear Jimin call, and you chuckle at how Jeongguk shuts his eyes in disappointment.

“Go,” you assure quietly, “have fun. You and I have all the time in the world.”

It’s four p.m. when Jin steps on something hard in the sand and hurts his foot enough not to want to continue and instead limps dramatically to the little kiosk and its ice cream line. With the majority of your focus on your phone, you note how Taehyung and Jimin plop down on their towels next to Ryujin.

“Play with me.”

Once again, Jeongguk stands before you, happiness and mischief oozing from him.

“Soccer?” you question with your eyebrows raised in surprise. 

Jeongguk nods enthusiastically.

“Gguk, I’ll die.”

Although you wholeheartedly enjoy seeing him do physical activities from a few feet away, men in general, and not least your boyfriend, tend to be… intense. You know that he would never intentionally hurt you, but war flashbacks still fill your mind of your junior high class playing soccer and the guys being so set on winning that they neither realized nor cared that they knocked (smaller) people over.

“Oh, come on,” he pleads, “It’s just you and me, and you know I’d never let you get hurt.”

With no further arguing from your side, you’re gently pulled up off the towel and onto the small soccer field.

“Try to score,” Jeongguk instructs, and it’s only then, when he places the ball in front of your feet that you realize what he’s planning. Smirking, he walks backward until he reaches the old and worn goalposts, void of anything resembling a net.

“I’ll break my toes off?”

He chuckles at your bad excuse and gets into position, “The ball is soft. Just make sure to score.”

It’s the way evil flickers in his eyes and pulls on his lips that has you suspecting foul play. That look is seldom good.

“You can’t chase me if I don’t,” you warn because hunting you down while you squeal in horror has proved to be one of his favorite things to do. 

Jeongguk shrugs, which only confirms it for you, and you point at him. “You’re gonna chase me, aren’t you?”

“Then make sure to score,” he teases.

“So you admit it?”

He smiles, “No. Now, just do it.”

Sighing, you eye the ball and your boyfriend, who’s gotten into the typical goalie stance with his knees bent, feet apart, and his hands out. In response, your adrenaline spikes. 

It’s not that you’re scared of Jeongguk because he’s truly the sweetest man, especially to you, and you know he’d probably never forgive himself if he ever hurt you, but being chased is just… terrifying. It’s fun, you won’t lie, but it’s terrifying.

The ball lies approximately thirty feet from the goal, and you know that, especially in sand, you’ll never be able to outrun someone as fast and athletic as Jeongguk, even with a thirty feet head start.

Additionally, even though there’s a zero percent chance of you scoring against him, you’re a hundred percent he’ll chase you even if you do.

Still, and much to Jeongguk’s amusement, you start to back up slowly, your eyes on the ball. Step after step, you back up, until you see both his and hear his friends’ confusion. Surely, you don’t need that much space to reach an appropriate speed?

But you know you were doomed to fail from the start, so why even try? Instead of running up to the ball, you turn, and you dash in the opposite direction, running for your life and satisfied with your maximized head start.

In the distance, you hear Jeongguk shout a confused “What the…” but also the sound of his feet hitting the sand as he sprints to catch you.

Luckily, you spot Jin, still at the kiosk but now with half an ice cream cone in his hand, and you pray that you’ll be able to reach him before Jeongguk catches up. Jin probably doesn’t care too much about protecting you, but if there’s anything he won’t decline, it’s a good brawl with Jeongguk.

“Jin! Help!” you squeal as you reach him, barely having time to round his body and put him between you and Jeongguk before your boyfriend reaches you. “I’ll buy you two new ice creams!”

Jin licks his ice cream casually but doesn’t mind you holding onto him as a human shield. “Why would I get involved in your little lovers’ quabbel?”

“He said you were getting too old to play soccer,” you lie from behind his back. 

“What the fuck?” Jin exclaims, and from what you can see of Jeongguk as you peer around Jin, his eyes widen comically.

“I did not.”

“You little fucker, you think you’re gonna be young forever or what?” Jin scolds as he pushes the remainder of his ice cream into his mouth, which is honestly quite impressive.

As the guys start to push at each other–Jeongguk to get to you and Jin to protect you only to spite Jeongguk–you back up, happy with your plan. 

Unfortunately, Jin doesn’t spend a ridiculous amount of hours at the gym like Jeongguk, and it’s only a matter of time before he’s sidestepped. But not after they tumble around on the ground for a moment, sand flying everywhere.

As soon as he sees that he’s been overcome, Jin gives up and calls ‘good luck’ at you. Similarly, the moment his friend is no longer an obstacle, Jeongguk sets his eyes on you.

“Oh, you little… I’m coming for you,” he threatens, and you turn to dash away again, but of course, with only a few rapid steps, he’s caught up, and you’re lifted off the ground.

He laughs at your screams, immediately carrying you toward a specific destination. “How about you and I go for a little swim, huh?”

“No,” you whine, but you’ve stopped struggling, “The water’s cold.”

“You haven’t even felt the water,” he chuckles, “It’s surprisingly warm.”

“You’re a menace,” you groan as he continues into the water.

“And you’re a cheating liar.”

“Touché.”

Since he’s holding you bridal style, the water reaches your butt first, and you have to agree that it’s definitely not as cold as you thought. Additionally, Jeongguk is very slow and gentle as he walks farther out.

He continues until only his head is above the surface, meaning you wouldn’t reach the bottom if you tried. So far out, you shift in his arms, holding onto his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“You’re very clingy,” he teases.

“You don’t get to complain since you were the one who dragged me out here. I just don’t like open water where just about anything could take me.”

“This isn’t open water, though. It’s a few feet into the water on a public beach,” he explains gently. “There’s nothing here that could ‘take you.’ Except me, but it’s a bit risky in public, don’t you think?”

“Jeongguk!’ you gasp before your amused smile turns fond, “You know you’re a little bit of an idiot?”

“But I got you.”

You sigh in defeat, “I know.”

For a moment, you don’t say anything, and the only sound is the waves rippling softly around you.

“Do you want me to take you back?” he asks quietly.

Meeting his eyes, you spot the tiniest bit of a certain emotion flash. It really is rarer and rarer these days, but you’d recognize it anywhere.

“No,” you assure softly, running your hand over his shoulder. He rubs one of his along your back. “As long as you hold me like this.”

“Okay.”

You smile, pulling yourself even closer to his body, to the point where you’re cheek to cheek.

“I’m… really happy,” you say so quietly no one else would hear even if you weren’t alone, far from the closest beach goer. “Life was really boring without you.”

You still call them date nights even though you’re living together and have been a couple for almost four years. They happen with varying frequency, sometimes you settle for movie nights every other day for two weeks straight, and other times, you splurge and go out to dinner multiple times a week. 

Tonight, Jeongguk surprised you with a fancier dinner at home, a thing he’s done now and again. You’re always smiling from ear to ear whenever you get to spend time with him, and it’s certainly no different when he’s cooked and set the table with candles.

“So, he wants you to do an extra shoot then?” you ask, taking another bite from your fork.

“Yeah. Said he’d be in touch soon to book,” Jeongguk answers from the sink where he’s opening another bottle of wine. He’s wearing a dark blue dress shirt, tucked into black slacks, the sleeves rolled up and a few buttons undone. He never stops to take your breath away.

“That’s great, Gguk.”

“Mhm. You want some?” he comes to stand beside you, holding the bottle over your nearly empty glass.

“Sure.”

You watch the red liquid be poured into the glass, and then as Jeongguk places the bottle on the table.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” he says.

You swallow the food in your mouth, about to reach for the glass, “Sure, go ahead.”

“Will you marry me?”

You stop breathing. When you turn your head, Jeongguk is sinking to one knee and opening a small, black box you didn’t know he was holding.

At first, you’re speechless. Marriage is one thing you haven’t talked very much about, especially after becoming what you’d call ‘stable.’ You just always assumed he didn’t want to, that the thought only brought him anxiety, and as long as you got him, it didn’t matter to you.

“Gguk, you know I love you–”

“–But?” he continues nervously, “...Don’t tell me you were gonna break up with me? Cause that would be awkward.”

It’s the sad and heartbreaking chuckle he lets out that snaps you out of it. “No, no, of course not! I love you, and I want nothing more than this and you, but we don’t need the rings and the documents for that, you know? You don’t have to do that for me, okay?”

“But I want to. I really do,” he assures, his confidence returning slowly but surely.

“Are you sure?”

“Incredibly. So… will you?”

Your eyes fall from his to the velvet box in his hand. “Oh, love. Of course.”

With his smile growing, he takes the ring out and with his other hand, grasps yours to slide it onto your ring finger.

Maybe surprisingly, or maybe not, the only tear in the room trickles down your cheek.

“So, we’re getting married?” he asks, sounding happy yet in disbelief.

“Yeah. I mean, you proposed, didn’t you?”

“And you said ‘yes?’”

“Then… yeah?”

Overcome with joy and love, you surprise him by throwing yourself at him, and he laughs as he falls to his butt, his hand shooting out to hold your back protectively. You end up on his lap with your forehead against his when you remember that you didn’t even stop to look at the ring.

“This is lovely,” you gasp, admiring the thin, silver band adorned with a small, pale blue teardrop in the middle.

“You like it?”

“Of course, I–I couldn’t have picked out anything better, myself. It’s like… like a little…”

“Forget-me-not?” he finishes for you.

“Yes. I love it. But, Gguk… it must’ve cost a fortune, please tell me it didn’t?”

He grins, “It didn’t.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Are you lying?”

“No. It didn’t cost much, cause… well, I made it.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I mean, I had to pay for the material, of course, and I paid my uncle to help me, not because he required it, but because I wanted to.”

The blue stone glimmers under your gaze. Sure, you knew Jeongguk was handy, even having been taught some carpentry by his uncle when he was younger, but this?

“Jeongguk, you made this?”

“Yes?”

“For me?”

He strokes your back fondly, “Yeah.”

“Wow,” you gush dreamily, admiring it from every angle. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You appear very happy for someone who said marriage wasn’t important,” he teases, and you look down at him with all the love you hold for him.

“I wouldn’t have minded if we didn’t, but I love it now that it’s happening. And I love you, that you did all this,” you hold your hand up, “and that you want to be with me like I want to be with you.”

It’s a regular day in November when Jeongguk unlocks the door to the apartment and kicks off his shoes before he trudges into the kitchen with the package under his arm.

He remembers how you, this morning, said you’d meet up with Yuna after a meeting at work, so the dark apartment is no surprise. The package is, however, since he can’t recall ordering anything that would be arriving today.

Jeongguk turns the lights on and places the brown package on the kitchen table to look for a knife. With one in his hand, he slices the packaging tape off and opens it. 

Turning it over, it appears to be… a book?

If he hadn’t already double checked that it was addressed to him and not you, he definitely would’ve. There’s a simple sketch of a swallow on the cover, but as he reads the title, it doesn’t appear to be about birds, at least not non-fictional.

‘The little bird and its love poems’

The author isn’t anyone he recognizes, not that he’s very up to date on them anyway. Curious, he opens it to the first page.

‘To my J, who can make even a writer lose their words.’

His head spins as he pulls out a chair and sits down at the kitchen table. 

It’s six p.m. when you reach what was once only Jeongguk’s apartment complex and take the elevator up to the sixth floor. Since selling your home a while ago, you really haven’t looked back. You barely spent time there anyway.

The second you unlock and open the door, you hear rustling, and another two seconds later, he stands there, red-eyed and sniffling. 

“D–did you? You..?”

Lowering your gaze, you see him holding your book to his chest. “Didn’t think it would arrive today,” you smile as you take off your shoes and jacket, putting them away slowly without looking away from him for too long. “But yeah.”

He just stands there, his pierced bottom lip trembling, and you approach him with open arms. But before you can embrace him fully, he wraps one arm around your waist and lifts.

Without a word, Jeongguk carries you into the bedroom and drops you onto the unmade bed to pull the covers over the both of you as he lies down.

You’re still smiling, even wider when he pulls you closer. 

“I love you,” you whisper into the darkness where it’ll get hard to breathe soon.

“Thanks, I got that,” Jeongguk mumbles sarcastically, sounding all choked up, and it makes you chuckle. 

“How much did you read?”

“All of it.”

“Which was your favorite?” you ask, stroking his hair.

“The last one, I think. ‘The adventure.’ Fucking ruined me.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Yeah,” he sniffles, his voice quiet. “…Why didn’t you use your real name?”

You open the duvet to let in some fresh air. “I guess I just wanted to write it. For me, to get it out of my system, and for you, as a gift. I don’t need anyone else, like our friends or all of your followers, to know my thoughts and feelings so deeply. Just you, and this way, it’s just between you and me, but it’s also out there.”

Jeongguk sniffles again, “I like that. Thank you. It must’ve taken you so long, though?”

“Yeah, I guess. I started not very long after we got back together the last time. I’ve always wanted to write something, but I didn’t know what, and I just had all these feelings clogging my brain, and I realized that if I didn’t start with this, those uncontained feelings would color everything I tried to write.”

He rests his head on your chest, “You know, I never thought anyone would write poems for me?”

“I know. But I did.”

“I’m warning you, I’ll be working on a revenge plan.”

Turns out that even if sales weren’t extremely important to you, your collection of poems accidentally gathers the attention of a well-known book circle and ends up doing quite well.

It’s a little less than two years later when you meet your own eyes through the mirror. It’s been hard, but you’ve fortunately managed to keep any tears at bay so far, and you admire your make up along with your dress. 

Satisfied, you run your hands along your waist over what you’ve sewed yourself. This time, the dress is everything you could’ve ever dreamt of.

“You’re really happy, aren’t you?” Yeji speaks from the rattan chair in the corner of the room.

“Yeah,” you sigh happily, “I know you’ve been through this too, but I just can’t wait for it to start, you know? The rest of our lives together.”

“I know.”

Sitting on the make-up table, Yuna takes a sip of her champagne, “I think he’s probably freaking out a lot more than you are,” she chuckles.

You smile, endeared, as you’re picturing him getting ready, probably pacing the room nervously. “He’s sweet.”

It took almost a year to plan your early November wedding. It’s smaller than Yuna’s, mostly family on your side and more friends on Jeongguk’s. You both quickly agreed to do your vows in private, and although he didn’t say it, you think it’s partly because Jeongguk wouldn’t make it through hearing yours in front of everyone.

Despite there definitely not being a reason to be nervous, you find yourself picking at your bouquet as you wait behind the doors, ready to walk down the aisle. Your father dabs his eyes with a napkin discreetly before he offers you his arm.

Then, the music starts, and the doors open.

When you first spot him, he’s standing with his back toward you, but only half a second later, he’s turning around. He’s wearing a traditional black suit with a bow tie, his slightly wavy hair of medium length–at least considering what he’s used to–brushed away from his face, and he looks like he just stepped out of a fairy tale. Your fairy tale.

The feeling must be mutual because he stares at you, those wide, Bambi eyes immediately glossing over. In response, you smile comfortingly at him.

Of course, it doesn’t work, and as you near, his tears finally spill over. There’s a collective awe sounding through the room, fond whispers echoing, and when you reach him–and your dad gives you away–you’re not sure if Jeongguk can see anything with how teary his eyes are. 

Behind him, you hear his groomsmen chuckle, but you know it’s out of love and adoration.

“Hi,” you greet quietly, taking Jeongguk’s arm.

“H–hi,” he stutters, his breaths uneven.

Although the officiant is waiting for your attention, you instead wrap your arms carefully around Jeongguk’s neck.

“Hey, shh, It’s okay,” you soothe, “Imagine it’s just you and me.”

“Is that supposed to help?” he hiccups, and you think it’s Jimin who laughs. It’s been a long time, probably more than a year since you’ve seen Jeongguk shed a tear at all, but you guess they were right back then, his friends. The only person he cries over is you.

“Yes. Close your eyes,” you instruct, lowering your hand to rub it across his back slowly, “and take a deep breath.”

Jeongguk ends up needing a few of those deep breaths before his breathing is under control and you can turn your attention back to the officiant, who smiles fondly at the two of you. 

Jeongguk manages to keep himself collected for the rest of the ceremony, and even if one tear escapes during the first dance, you’re quick to dry it. You can’t blame him, though, not when there’s only you and him on the dance floor and your cousin Jihyo starts to sing.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in…

“This was a good decision. Marriage, I mean,” he nods, and you lift your head from his chest to look at him, “Even though this song makes me wanna bawl all over again. I never would’ve guessed marriage was my thing–fuck, I didn’t think anyone would ever actually love me, much less want to marry me–but here we are,” he chuckles, ignoring the sad look you give him. “But there’s a… stability in it that I like. So thank you, for giving me a chance. Or like, five hundred. ”

“Yeah. It’s not as easy for you to run away now,” you joke gently. 

However, despite Jeongguk’s progress, he looks away briefly. “I’m sorry. For all the things I put you through. I really am, and I’ll be fo–”

“–For the rest of your life. I know. But look at me?”

“You’re the prettiest I’ve ever seen, yeah.”

You laugh quietly, “No, that wasn’t what I meant. I meant that in a ‘look at me, I’ve got everything I could’ve ever asked for’ way. And you know my deepest, darkest desire?”

“Yeah?”

“I think this is pretty darn close.”

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

It’s later during the reception that Jeongguk can’t find you. How hard could it be, finding the most stunning woman ever, also happening to be the one in the white dress, he thinks, but evidently, you’re gone. He looks through the venue, but doesn’t find you dancing with anyone on the dance floor nor talking with someone in a corner.

It’s only when he walks past a window that he spots that white dress. He stops.

The venue you chose lies on top of a hill, overlooking a river. Down where the water meets land, there’s the smallest of piers. And that’s where you stand.

Jeongguk continues to the exit, opening the doors to stand outside. It’s dark, outside candles lining and illuminating the gravel path down to the pier.

Surely, a lot of people would consider it weird to invite your ex-fiancé to your wedding, but he truly didn’t mind sending Namjoon an invite. Neither does he mind that it’s your ex you’ve snuck off to talk to on your wedding day. 

He doesn’t plan on approaching you, just to wait for you. Even from a distance, it’s mind blowing how you take his breath away. 

He almost feels the need to pinch himself because how did everything he ever wanted come true? You’re speaking with the man you were going to marry, but the gorgeous white dress you’re wearing isn’t for Namjoon, it’s for him. He’s the one with the matching wedding band on his finger. Him. You’ve actually married him. 

For a second, he’s scared that he dreamt it all, that it’s someone else’s wedding he’s at, and he nearly pats his sides in search of the camera bag hanging from his shoulder.

“Oh? Hi, have you seen–”

He turns, relieved to be back in reality. The person speaking to him–who also just noticed the two of you down at the pier–is Namjoon’s girlfriend.

Returning his attention to you, he’s just in time to watch you nearly throw yourself into Namjoon’s awaiting arms.

“Does that… worry you?” she asks quietly, but Jeongguk only shakes his head.

“No. Are you? Worried?”

“Strangely enough… no.”

He doesn’t talk to the woman much more after that, and soon enough, you and Namjoon come walking back. You look happy as you tell him something, holding onto his hand so as to not trip in your heels, and he’s smiling down at you too.

But the moment you look up and notice Jeongguk, your expression changes. He can tell that you were happy for Namjoon, excited that he’s found someone he really likes, and that things have worked out for him. You’re smiling happily for him because you still care for him.

But when you meet Jeongguk’s eyes, it’s different. There’s an indescribable excitement brimming in your beautiful eyes, a longing in your smile that he shares and that’s come true. 

Three weeks after the wedding, you step out of Jeongguk’s car–well it’s yours too since you decided that having two was redundant and yours was sold. He’s quick to round it, immediately reaching for your hand and pulling you into his side so quickly you almost bounce off him. Of course, he catches you, reveling in your laughter. 

Under the sign declaring the little shop a tattoo one, he opens the heavy door and gestures for you to enter first. It’s much warmer inside than the late November air outside, and as you look around, you unzip your jacket.

Despite being together for quite some time now, you’ve never actually been to the tattoo shop, which is partly because it’s been years since he got a new one done. However, he’s deemed that a few need to be touched up, and that’s why you’re here.

Jeongguk’s tattoo artist is a very kind and polite man named Han. He pulls up another comfy-looking chair in black for you to sit beside Jeongguk. 

“So what have you been up to since I last saw you?” he asks as he prepares the ink on the little tray placed on a rolling table.

“Well, I got married,” Jeongguk grins and looks at you. “Three weeks ago.”

“Oh, really?” Han looks away from the tools to let his gaze travel between the two of you. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you.”

You bite your lip, for some reason feeling your cheeks heat up just the slightest.

“You’re very talented, Han,” you change the topic, “You’ve done almost all of his tattoos, and most are just so cool and pretty.”

“‘Most?’” he chuckles, making you backtrack.

“No, no, I meant that they’re all very well done. There’s just one I don’t particularly like, but that’s due to meaning and not execution,” you explain.

“Oh, which one is that?” he inspects Jeongguk’s naked arm where he’s seated on the chair in between you and Han, in only a t-shirt on his top half.

“You don’t say anything, only pointing to the anatomically correct rotting heart. 

“Oh. Yeah,” Han chuckles, making you wonder if he perhaps knows of its backstory.

Jeongguk grins at you and lifts his hand to pat you lovingly on your head. You adore him and his style, and you’ll always be supportive of it, he knows that. Except for the heart. That’s when you’re a self-proclaimed party pooper because although you’re still kinda sweet about it, you do dislike the meaning. He knows that too, and he thinks it’s a little bit funny (and cute) that you care so much about his metaphorical heart and how he sees himself.

And truth be told, he wouldn’t get that tattoo today, but he still doesn’t mind it. It tells his story, and it looks cool.

You don’t fight his patting, “I just think he’s a sweet guy, and I wouldn’t allow him to get something like that today.”

“What would you ‘allow’ me to get, then?” 

You shrug, “I mean, there are a lot of things I wouldn’t mind.”

“Do something, then,” he says happily.

“No, I don’t know if I want any more, at least not now.”

“I meant on me. Han, will you let her do something?”

“What, Gguk?!” you question, not only his words but also his sanity, “No, I’d ruin your skin. Besides, I’m sure it’s like a federal crime.”

“She can decide something, and I can tattoo it?” Han suggests, holding onto Jeongguk’s arm and lowering the needle to his skin.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk peers up at you happily, used to the pain of tattoos.

You’re not smiling as joyously, “Are you sure? I don’t think there’s any use in telling you they’re permanent?”

“You’re my wife, and if you want to choose something for me, I want you to.”

Despite it perhaps being too spontaneous of an idea and also very possibly a bad one, you can’t argue too much. There is something you really would like on him. A certain motive that you’d really love.

“Okay. It’s a tiny one, I’ll do it in grayscale like the rest so it doesn’t stick out too much.”

“You can do color if you want,” Jeongguk reaches for your hand with his left one. “Or just whatever you want. Write your name in your favorite color.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, but he doesn’t waver.

“You’ll regret saying that when I make Han tattoo a pink dick on you.”

Both of them laugh, but Han still shows you where to find an empty sketchbook to draw in and without showing Jeongguk, you get to work.

When he’s done with the touch-up, Han follows you to the farthest corner of the shop where you tell him about the tiny, little outline of a heart you’ve drawn and how you want it in thin red, next to the rotten one.

By his own idea, Jeongguk looks at you the entire time it takes Han to tattoo him, which isn’t more than a few minutes, and he doesn’t peek until everything’s done and you’re following him to the shop’s mirror.

He’s twisting his arm around to see it clearly since it’s halfway hidden beside the big, decaying heart. He’s not smiling anymore, but he’s got that wide and glossy Bambi-eye look that’s so sweet.

Reaching him, you lean your head against his other arm. “I know you think, or at least thought that there was something wrong with your heart. But it works just fine. Almost perfectly, even. And it’s so dear to me. You are, every little part of you.

“But if you ever doubt it, then you’ve got my heart too. It’s not perfect either, but it beats for you.”

It’s a quiet Jeongguk that leaves the tattoo shop with your hand warmly held in his, but he’s not sad. He’s happy and still a little emotional, you can tell. 

Under his jacket, the little red heart drawn by you is wrapped in plastic, and a bit shyly, he admits that he thinks it might be his favorite tattoo yet. 

Of course, despite telling him it can symbolize either of your hearts, he says that he likes the thought of it being yours more. You, however, definitely think his is a better fit.

Because Jeon Jeongguk is a lot of things, but more than anything, he’s a lover.

The adventure

When I close my eyes for the last time,

and all is said and things are through,

I hope you know that

my favorite part of this adventure 

was you.

author's note: so that was it lol, please tell me if you liked it because i really spent time and effort on this big boy of a fic 🥺 and again, here's the playlist!

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Chasing Cars | ch 9 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Yoongi x Hoseok

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, curses, Jungkook gets jealous, mentions of smoking cigarettes, explicit content: reader catches nabi and namjoon in the act, brat!OC, car blowjob, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, praising, hickey, mouth fucking, nipple play, fingering, protected sex

☆word count: 11.2k

☆a/n: new week new chapter!! and with this one, half of the fic is done (only half LMAO). Hope you guys enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Sunday, March 10th 

Jungkook’s chest moves up as he takes a deep breath, disrupting your quiet comfort.

Your eyes slide open to reveal his phone, and he’s scrolling through reels on Instagram, the sound off. You nuzzle your face further into his chest, and he holds you tighter for a few seconds.

“I thought you’d fallen asleep,” he says, his voice rumbling in his chest against your ear.

You sigh. Though it’s late evening and driving home has been draining - the sex you had when you finished eating dinner even more so - you don’t quite want to fall asleep right now. Maybe because tomorrow you’ll wake up and you’ll have to go back to class, to face Ria and Nabi and all your friends that know yet don’t know that something is going on between you and Jungkook.

“I was almost asleep,” you admit. “But I don’t want to sleep yet.”

“Why not?”

His attention is solely on you now, his phone forgotten, and so you raise your head to meet his tender gaze.

“I want to spend more time with you,” you whisper.

His lips stretch in the softest smile, his eyes sparkling with all the light in the universe. “I’ll still be here tomorrow, peach.”

You know it. You know you still have weeks with him, but tonight you feel like the end might be coming for you quicker than you want it to.

“And the day after?” you tease.

His arm tightens around you, and he moves so that he can peck your lips once. “I’ll still be right here.”

“In your bed?” you ask, faking surprise.

He laughs, a sound so sweet and so intoxicating to your senses. “Yep. With you in it.”

“Damn, JK, you’ve got plans for us, mmh?”

He just grins in reply, and your heart flutters in your chest as you put your head back on his own chest.

“So if you want to fall asleep…” he trails off, hugging you tighter for a few seconds before pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “Feel free.”

You take a deep breath, nodding as you close your eyes, focusing on the steady beats of his heart. You wonder, does he know your heart has synced with his?

Does he know you’re afraid he’ll rip your beating heart from your chest?

You’ve been thinking. All day you’ve been thinking, and you haven’t been able to ask him. Haven’t been able to have the conversation he said you could have today - about his family, about the shitshow of the engagement party. 

All you’ve been able to do today is exchange pleasantries, stolen glances and holding hands. And you reckon, it should be enough.

Yet the reason why you can’t sleep is because you want to know. Need to know if he truly is set to marry someone else.

“By the way,” Jungkook lets out after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “Tae texted me while you were in the shower.”

“Mmh?” you hum.

“He wanted me to tell you to reply to his texts,” Jungkook concludes. “And you should, before he grows suspicious.”

“He’s suspicious because Jimin said we have something going on after you hosted your friends here the other day.”

“Right,” Jungkook says, and he chuckles lightly. “I mean, he isn’t wrong.”

He isn’t, and you hate that he isn’t. You don’t want Taehyung to know, you don’t want your brother to have the power to take this away from you. Not when you already know life will take it from you by itself.

“I still don’t want him to know,” you admit with a small voice. “He’d hate you.”

Jungkook presses a kiss on the top of your head again. “Then we don’t tell him. You decide.”

You don’t like that he’s giving you this power, but yet again it’s better than when he wanted to pretend nothing had happened after the power outage. It’s progress, steps in the right direction, but you don’t even know if you’re walking the same path as him.

Jungkook has been great to you, he really has, but you haven’t done relationships before.

Will this time around be any different?

“Okay,” you let out. You press a kiss on the warm skin of his chest, before resting your head on it again. “Besides…” you trail off, and your heart squeezes in your chest.

Because it’s time. You need to talk to him about what his mother said, no matter how much it might hurt.

“Besides?” Jungkook repeats.

“Your mother mentioned something to me yesterday,” you admit.

You hear his heartbeat picking up. “What did she say?”

You worry at your bottom lip, take a few deep breaths in to gather courage. “That you’re supposed to marry someone?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply right away. You’re pretty sure you also hear his heart entirely stopping in his chest, but you think that might be your imagination.

“That’s hilarious,” he deadpans a few seconds later, and he lets out a disbelieved chuckle. “I’m not going to marry anyone.”

You raise your head from his chest, seeking the truth in his gaze. And he doesn’t look like he’s lying, not even a little bit. Especially not as he cups your cheek, gently running his thumb on your skin. 

“She said she and your dad spoke to another family,” you explain.

He plays with his piercings, raising an eyebrow. “I’d assume that they mean Gabrielle?”

You’ve never heard that name before, and you offer him a confused look. 

“Or not,” he adds after a few seconds, his brow creasing.

“Who’s Gabrielle?” you ask, and the doubt that seeps through you tastes far too vile.

“A friend from high school,” Jungkook replies immediately. “No one to worry about. Our families were always friends and my parents are obsessed with her.”

It stings. It stings far more than it should - Jungkook’s parents didn’t even give you a chance. Yet they’re obsessed with this Gabrielle, this girl from Jungkook’s past. Your heart sinks in your chest, and you look away from him, unable to hold his gaze.

“Ah,” you flatly let out.

“I don’t talk to her anymore,” Jungkook quickly reassures you, forcing you to look at him again with his firm hold on your cheek. “Last news I had of her was that she was going to study somewhere in Europe.”

You worry at your bottom lip, and Jungkook is quick to pull it from your teeth with his thumb. 

“I promise,” he adds. “She’s nothing to worry about. My parents can’t force me to marry her anyway.”

You take a deep breath and then nod once. The ache in your chest barely eases, but you can see that Jungkook is trying his best. There’s something so endearing about it that you feel yourself soften, and you immediately lean in to kiss him.

The kiss is soft. The kiss is a fire in the hearth during a cold winter evening. It’s a warm summer breeze and a cup of tea on a rainy day. It’s comfort and that, more than anything, finally soothes the ache away. It helps that Jungkook swipes your bottom lip with his tongue, and you sigh as you give him access, your tongues tangling a second later.

Hell, you think you might be able to go for another round. But Jungkook pulls away, lips glistening from your ministrations.

“And about my family,” he says. His voice is breathy, and you feel powerful for the effect you have on him. Though he clears his throat, and the breathiness is gone when he adds, “They’re dicks. All of them. I’m sorry I put you through this.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, and you mean it. “I was mostly just taken aback.”

He nods, adding, “I don’t get along with them well. They wanted me to take over the family business with Junghyun, but I left to study here. My father has never forgiven me, and my mother hates me for the tattoos and piercings.”

You don’t know what to reply. You feel horrible for him, for the smiling boy in the frame on his bedside table. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay.” He smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I got used to it. I’ve found that your friends are your true family anyway.”

His friends. Taehyung. Your brother. The one thing that will make it so you and Jungkook can’t actually be together, ever.

“And now I’ve got you too so, who cares what my family thinks?”

You know he does. Somewhere in the depths of his eyes you see the kid that wished his family loved him, wished he fit in. You wonder how his mother could hate him - he was adorable, endearing with that wide bunny grin of his, even when he was just a kid.

“I guess no one cares,” you reply after a few seconds of silence.

He offers you a reassuring smile. “Told you so.” He pecks your lips again, and then nestles his head back against his pillow. “We should go to bed, it’s getting late.”

“I just have one last question,” you say as you lay your head back on his chest, your gaze directed towards the frame of him and Junghyun. “Who did you go to Disney with?”

Jungkook follows your line of gaze. “Oh.” The silence that follows is heavy, sad. “Our nanny. She practically raised us.”

That makes sense. You don’t think Jungkook would have turned out to be such a gentle, sweet person if he’d been raised by his parents. But then again, he does act like an asshole a lot, and projects that overly cocky and confident aura most of the time. You’ve only recently started seeing this soft part of him.

“She sounds like a great person,” you say.

Jungkook tightens his hold on you. “She was. The best, honestly.”

You smile sadly, your heart straining at the ache in his voice. “Was?”

“Yeah.” He sighs deeply. “She passed away last year.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He shrugs, which proves to be awkward in this position. “It’s not your fault. Nothing to be sorry about.”

Silence falls in the room, and you hold Jungkook a little tighter. As if that will prevent him from breaking, from falling away from you in the inevitability of the future.

“I wish I’d been around then,” you add. “So that I could be there for you.”

“Peach…”

“I’m serious.”

You hear him sniffle, the only indication that he’s getting emotional. And it hits you like a brick to the face - you want to protect this man, at all costs. 

You never want Jungkook to feel sad.

“You’re amazing, you know that, right?” he says after a few seconds. “Like… I’m really lucky.”

“And so am I,” you softly reply. “Luckiest girl in the world.”

He chuckles, his voice still raw with emotion when he says, “You know you’ll have to share a bed with me every night now, right?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, and you don’t balk at the sight of the silver lining his eyes. “A dream come true, if I’m honest.”

He smiles, a sad, sad smile that makes you shift so that you’re lying next to him. You open your arms, and he immediately understands what you want, moving until he’s nestled in your embrace. You run a soothing hand on his back, not caring that he’s practically buried his face in your breasts. Especially not when, five minutes later, his breathing evens out, and he starts emitting those soft snores you find oh so adorable.

He’s left the red LED lights on, and you pat the bed behind him, looking for his phone. He whines against you, though he doesn’t say anything when you finally find his phone. You direct it towards his face to open it, and then search for the app to turn off the lights. 

Once the lights are off, you put his phone away, wrapping your arm around him again, holding him close.

You don’t let go, not even when you, too, fall asleep.

Friday, March 15th 

There’s something about Ria and tequila shots that you can’t quite understand. 

You’re at the girls’ dorm, getting ready for the party tonight. It’s hosted at a frat house, which means your shoes will most likely be ruined by the end of the evening. You don’t really care - you put on an old pair of sneakers that you use specifically for these types of occasions.

But yes, Ria and tequila create something you can’t comprehend. She’s already taken four shots, while you’re on your second and Nabi hesitantly took one, and you know she’s going to be wild tonight.

You think you know why - a certain Kim Seokjin is supposed to be in attendance, and though Ria claims she really doesn’t like him, she’s curled her hair and donned her makeup to perfection for the occasion.

And she’s also visibly trying to get shitfaced, and so you steal the tequila bottle from her hands.

“Hey!” she complains. “Give that back.”

You take a swig from the bottle, immediately regretting your decision. It makes your friends laugh though, and it distracts Ria long enough so that you can put the cap back on the bottle, and you hide it behind you where you’re sitting on the floor of their dorm, in between their beds.

“Is Namjoon going to be there?” you ask Nabi, trying to distract Ria further.

“Yeah, of course! Hobi and Yoongi also, apparently,” Nabi answers. “What about Jungkook?”

You’re happy you’re the type to flush red with alcohol, otherwise your two friends would have a visual proof of the embarrassment that comes with Jungkook being mentioned around you. It’s stupid - you’re an adult, but for some reason the thought of Jungkook makes you all giddy, like you have a school crush on him. 

It’s a feeling you’ve been clinging to this week, despite every odd against you two working out in the long term.

“I think so,” you reply, even though you know for a fact that the answer is yes and that he’s going to be driving you home.

He’s told you so in whispers against your skin last night, when he finished fucking your brains out.

“You think so, or you know?” Ria teases, a smirk on  her lips. “You can pretend we haven’t seen him obsessing over you every time we went to the library this week, but we’re not going to be fooled.”

They do have a point. Indeed, the two times you’ve gone to the library with the girls, Jungkook kept popping in, bringing you snacks or just coming in to chat for a little while. The girls found it funny, and you just found it embarrassing.

Not that Jeon Jungkook is embarrassing. It’s rather the fact that it’s led to thorough interrogations, and you don’t like talking about your relationship with him when he’s your brother’s best friend, and speaking to the wrong person could lead to Taehyung learning about everything.

So you’ve been trying to keep the relationship a secret as best as you can, giving vague answers to the girl and saying that you only went to New York with him because you’re friends, and Jimin wasn’t available to accompany him.

You hid the fact that he’s rich from everyone. Hid the Yves St-Laurent dress in the back of your closet, to only be looked upon whenever you need to remind yourself that the weekend wasn’t a creation of your brain.

So far, you didn’t need to be reminded. Not when Jungkook has been acting so affectionate, cooking you meals and sitting with you when you’re working on reports or studying for your classes. 

“Jungkook is not obsessed with me,” you drawl, even though you think he might be, to the extent that Jeon Jungkook can be obsessed with someone. “He’s just a good friend.”

“You fuck all your good friends?” Ria teases, wiggling her brows.

You punch her in the shoulder, and she bursts into a fit of giggles. “I’m not fucking him.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ria says.

“You’ve been glowy since last weekend,” Nabi points out, an innocent smile on display.

You fake-glare at her, but to your relief, a knock sounds at the door, effectively distracting your friends.

It’s Namjoon, as revealed when Ria opens the door, and he steps in with a six-pack of beer, offering you a polite nod as Nabi gets up to hug him. They share a quick kiss, and you fake-gag, earning you a loud laugh from Ria that makes Nabi turn beat red.

“Shut up,” Nabi grumbles through her teeth as she faces you again, and she pulls Namjoon by the hand to sit on her bed.

You remain on the floor with Ria, and she’s successfully stolen the tequila bottle again. She refills the empty shot glasses, handing one to Namjoon and one to you. She gives the last one to Nabi, and she raises the bottle for you all to clink glasses with her, and a second later, the alcohol is burning down your throat.

You’re effectively drunk by the time you make it to the party. Ria is worse than you, while Nabi remains almost sober from all the shots she dodged and handed her boyfriend instead. Namjoon’s cheeks are flushed red, much like yours, and you meet up with Yoongi and Hoseok, where they stand near the wall, faces downcast.

“Hey boys!” you greet them. 

You throw an arm around their shoulders, and Hoseok quickly moves away while Yoongi remains frozen in his spot, arms folded on his chest. It’s sobering, a little, and you furrow your brow as you look between them.

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

Hoseok quickly glances at the rest of your friends as they gather around you before saying, “No. How was pre-drink?”

You immediately know something is up. You feel it in the way Yoongi tenses under your arm, and though he hates being touched, he doesn’t push you away. You cock an eyebrow at Hoseok questioningly, but he only shrugs and then asks Namjoon, “Want to team up on beer pong?”

A moment later, they’re walking away, Nabi in tow, and you motion to Ria to follow them. She takes the cue, though the second she turns around, Kim Seokjin appears, and they stay right there, speaking in each other’s ear.

Once you’re convinced they won’t hear you, you let go of Yoongi, turning to face him. “Is something wrong?” you ask again.

He clenches his jaw, still avoiding your gaze. His arms tighten around him, and he looks like he’s trying to hold himself together, yet barely succeeds.

“Hobi just told me he’s switching colleges next semester.”

You widen your gaze. “What?”

Yoongi chuckles, but it’s entirely void of any joy. “You heard me right.”

“Why?”

Yoongi meets your gaze, his eyes flaming with barely disguised anger and hurt. “I don’t know.”

You wince, nose scrunching up. “I…”

“Don’t say anything,” Yoongi says before you’re able to finish your sentence, which is a good thing considering you had no idea what to say. “I should have seen it coming.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoongi blinks away some tears, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why you care. You were fucking him like a month ago.”

In truth, a month ago you were pretending the world didn’t exist with Jungkook, as it was the power outage, but you refrain from saying anything. You highly doubt that that’s what Yoongi needs to hear right now.

“Yeah, and I don’t think I should have,” you say.

“Why?” Yoongi asks, sounding offended.

You shrug. “Because you care about him and it was hurting you.”

Yoongi presses his lips in a thin line, nodding once. He doesn’t say anything else, and you don’t really expect him to. Not when Hoseok clearly just broke his heart.

“You know what you need?” you say, pulling his arms away from his chest so that you can hook arm with him.

“What?” Yoongi asks, following you as you pull him through the crowd.

“A drink.”

He chuckles. He doesn’t look quite as sad as he did a second ago, and you reckon that it’s a win. 

You make it your mission to cheer Yoongi up tonight, making sure he always has a drink in hand. You also stay by his side, playing beer pong with him when Ria begs you to play. She’s accompanied by Seokjin, who’s got far more aim than you do, but Yoongi is a decent player. It compensates for a while, until Hoseok appears in the vicinity of the table, and Yoongi tenses so much he looks like he’s turning to stone. You try to take over then, only to be solidly defeated by Seokjin who smiles at Ria as she high-fives him with a wide grin on her lips.

You’ve never seen her smiling so wide with a guy before, and you have to keep your own grin in at the sight, not wanting to upset Yoongi. Instead, you hook arm with him again, pulling him towards the backyard. He begrudgingly follows, though he visibly relaxes the second you’re outside, the cold air a stark contrast from the hot atmosphere inside.

“All good?” you ask.

“Why are you doing this?”

You shrug your shoulders. “You’re a friend,” you offer as an explanation. “The least I can do is be there for you right now.”

“Are we friends?” he queries. He sounds sad again, and you hate it.

“Of course we are! If we weren’t before, we are now.” You try to sound reassuring, and when you see the smile tickling the corner of his lips, you think it’s working. “If you want, we can go sit somewhere quiet upstairs to talk shit about Hobi.”

“Honestly, that sounds like a dream,” Yoongi agrees.

You laugh, and a second later you walk back into the house, Yoongi in tow. The first thing you see as you walk in is Jimin, and you instinctively scan the room, your eyes falling on Jungkook next. It’s like everyone disappears for a few seconds, and your lips stretch in a soft smile he immediately reciprocates, though it slightly falls when he sees Yoongi behind you.

You glance at Yoongi, and he raises his eyebrows in question. You motion towards Jungkook, leaning closer to Yoongi to say, “Just give me a second, I want to talk to my friend.”

He nods, and ends up following you as you walk towards Jungkook, who’s standing with Jimin, Sera, Lisa and some of their other friends you don’t remember the name of.

“Hey,” you greet everyone as you stop next to them.

Your fingers itch to touch Jungkook, but you clench your fist, refraining from doing so.

A chorus of heys reply to you, and you awkwardly stand there for a few seconds before they resume their conversation as if you haven’t interrupted. You feel bad for a few seconds until Jungkook leans in closer to you.

“Who’s that guy?” he asks.

You purse your lips, holding a laugh in. “A friend. He’s going through a breakup?” At least you think that’s the best way to refer to it. “I’m trying to be there for him.”

Jungkook’s gaze hardens as he clenches his jaw, a muscle feathering over his skin. There’s something infinitely attractive about the sight - and infinitely wrong about you to find it attractive to begin with - and you already can’t wait for the evening to end so that you can tangle in bed with him.

“A friend?” Jungkook repeats.

“Are you jealous?” you tease, and Jungkook sends a cautious glance around.

But no one is watching you besides Yoongi, and you know Yoongi would never say anything.

“Should I be?” Jungkook says, frowning slightly.

You wink at him. “Not at all. His breakup is with a guy so… I fear I’m lacking a certain part of my body for him to find me attractive.”

“Could be bi,” Jungkook points out.

“Could be.” You shrug, and then you gently brush your hand on the back of his. “I’ll come find you when it’s time to leave?”

He nods, glancing at Yoongi. You want to reach for him, to hold him close and reassure him that he’s got nothing to worry about, but Jimin is now watching again, so you only step away from Jungkook, re-establishing a safe distance between the two of you.

“Yeah, let me know when you want to go home,” Jungkook replies.

You smile, nodding once before wishing him a good evening. You feel his gaze burning on the back of your head as you walk away, Yoongi following you, and you can’t resist but look over your shoulder when you’re about to leave the room to head into the hall leading to the staircase. Your gazes connect despite the crowd, and your heartbeat picks up in your chest, butterflies swirling in your stomach.

“I’ll grab a beer before we go up,” Yoongi suggests, snapping you out of the moment.

You blink a few times, before nodding your head. “Good idea. I’ll take one too.”

You pit stop at the table where the drinks are, and you end up making gin and tonics since they’ve run out of beer. Yoongi complains he doesn’t like it, but you tell him alcohol is alcohol, to which he offers you a side-eye that has you burst out laughing.

A moment later you’re on your way up the stairs. To outside eyes, you wonder what it looks like - do people think you’re looking for a place to hide so that you can fuck? It’s a funny thought, and you laugh some more as you reach the second floor, and notice the four people sitting on the floor as they talk. They barely look at you as you walk in front of them, heading for a door at the end of the corridor.

Yoongi steps in front of you as you near the door, hand extended to open it. The doorknob turns and he pushes it open, only to be met by an all-too familiar high-pitched shriek. A look over Yoongi’s shoulder reveals Nabi, butt ass naked, sitting on the counter with Namjoon between her legs.

“Oh shit!” Yoongi lets out, yet he freezes, not closing the door.

“Oh my God,” you echo and Nabi flushes so deep red you think she’ll combust.

“Close the door, idiots,” Namjoon grits through his teeth.

Yoongi’s gaze widens, and he immediately slams the door shut. His cheeks are dusted with pink, and you exchange one glance that makes you burst out laughing, wheezing and blinking back tears. You’ve never seen Yoongi laughing like that, which only spurs you on more, until he grabs your hand and tugs you into a bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

“Holy shit,” Yoongi says once your laughter finally recedes.

You nod, wiping the tear that escaped the confines of your eyes. “I know, holy shit. I knew they were getting it on but I didn’t think Nabi would do it at a party.”

“Didn’t expect that of Joon either,” Yoongi admits, and he glances in the general direction of the bathroom. “He used to be such a nerd, and now he’s fucking a girl at a party.”

“Good for him,” you say, raising your glass. Yoongi doesn’t echo the sentiment, instead looking troubled. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

Yoongi shrugs, sliding down until he’s sitting on the floor, his back against the door. You follow him, sitting against a dresser while you wait for him to talk.

“I’m afraid that he might be jumping into a relationship too quickly after…” Yoongi trails off. “After Julia.”

Your brow creases for a few seconds until you figure, “His ex?”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah. They were together for a long time, and he loved her a lot,” Yoongi reveals.

Your heart squeezes in your chest. “You think Nabi might just be a rebound.”

“Listen,” Yoongi lets out. “I saw him during Frosh week. I saw him starting to want to go to parties last semester. I’m not saying it’s because of Nabi…” he trails off, shrugging his shoulders again before taking a sip of his drink that makes him scrunch up his nose in disgust. “I don’t know why I grabbed that, it’s disgusting.”

“Hey, gin and tonics are good!”

He throws you a no-bullshit look, and then returns to the conversation at hand. “So yeah, he’s been different where Nabi is implied, but he was with Julia for five years. It’s bound to have had an impact on him.”

Yoongi isn’t wrong, and you hate that he isn’t. You don’t want Nabi to be set up for heartbreak.

“If he hurts Nabi…” you trail off.

Yoongi snorts, the smile he offers you a lot warmer than any you’ve ever seen on his features before. “You’re a good friend, aren’t you?”

You hold his gaze, shrugging your shoulders. “I try to be. I’d do anything for my friends.”

Yoongi raises his solo cup, his lips still curved upwards. “Then, I’m glad to count you as a friend.”

You clink glasses, taking a long sip from your gin and tonic that makes your head buzz even more than it already was. Silence reigns on the room for a moment, a comfortable silence that makes you look around, scanning your environment. Apart from the mattress on the floor and a few discarded pieces of clothing, the bedroom is empty. More clothes overflow from the closet though, as if whoever’s room this is just quickly shoved everything in there before the party.

“What about you?” Yoongi asks then.

You frown quizzically, facing him. “What about me?”

“Jungkook.”

Your throat goes dry, and you hide your blush behind a long sip of your drink. “What about him?”

“Hobi mentioned that something is going on between you guys?”

You’ll kill him. You’ll eviscerate Jeong Hoseok the moment you have the opportunity to.

“Not really,” you lie, though the lie weighs heavy on your shoulders.

Obviously, Yoongi sees right through you, saying, “I saw how you guys looked at each other earlier. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Your cheeks burn as you recall when you spoke to Jungkook. You didn’t feel like you were looking at him a certain way, but then again he has a tendency to steal your attention no matter where you are, so maybe Yoongi is onto something.

“I’m not trying to,” you say, taking a deep breath to chase away the lingering heaviness from the lie. “He’s my brother’s best friend.”

“Your brother, who’s conveniently on a semester abroad right now.”

You narrow your gaze at Yoongi, as if glaring at him. “It’s not convenient. I wish he’d never gone.”

This lie tastes even worse than the previous, and you chase its aftertaste with your drink.

“Right. And then you’d never have fucked his best friend.”

You close your eyes, rubbing a hand on your forehead. “It’s such a mess, Yoongi.”

He snorts in his red solo cup. “Why though?”

“Taehyung can’t know.”

“Why?” Yoongi asks again. “You’re adults.”

“Tae doesn’t think that way,” you admit, and a familiar annoyance flashes through you. “He’s always been overbearing. Like, when I was in highschool he scared all the guys away whenever they tried to speak to me.” Not that you would have dated any of them anyway, but Yoongi doesn’t need to know that. “It was annoying. And now, it’s even worse because JK’s his friend.”

“Or maybe he’ll trust his friend to treat you right, no?”

You wish it were that easy. You wish you lived in the utopia Yoongi’s composing right now, but you know reality to be far crueller than that. 

“Trust Jungkook?”

Yoongi winces, and you hate the drop of doubt it brings back to you. 

It’s the same doubt that had invaded you because of Colton, because of Lisa and Shelly. But then again, you’ve seen Jungkook last weekend. You were there all week with him: you want to believe he’s changed, and for the better.

But would Taehyung see that?

“Anyways,” you say before Yoongi’s able to add anything else. “We were supposed to talk shit about Hobi.”

Yoongi visibly deflates, his eyes dropping to his solo cup as he spins the liquid in it, watching it slosh around. “Yeah.”

“When did he tell you he’s switching colleges?” you ask, as gently as you can.

“Right before you guys got here.”

Damn. You’re friends with Hoseok too, you really are, but you reckon it’s selfish to do something like that to someone at a party when they can’t really do anything. It explains the awkwardness when you arrived though, and for some reason you’re happy you stuck to Yoongi’s side and not Hoseok’s.

You don’t think Hoseok would deserve someone comforting him right now.

“That’s dickish,” you say, and you mean it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s coming out of nowhere too,” Yoongi adds. He sighs, resting his head against the door. “He seemed to say that it was to follow a professor for an internship but still… It’s weird, no?”

“Where is he going?” you ask.

“He didn’t tell me. Just said that it was far.”

You wince. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

Yoongi shrugs, and he downs his glass, gagging after he’s swallowed. “This is really bad alcohol.”

It’s a bad attempt at switching subjects, and you offer Yoongi a small smile you hope is comforting. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had better days,” Yoongi replies, and he sounds infinitely tired. “But thank you for trying to cheer me up tonight. I really appreciate it.”

Your smile is easy, warm this time. “Of course. Anytime.”

You end up staying in that small, impersonal bedroom for a while, the party long forgotten as you chat about everything and nothing. You hadn’t realized before, but you have more in common with Yoongi than you previously thought. You had similar circumstances growing up - that is, fathers leaving when you were too young to even remember them, and older brothers that tried to compensate.

Yoongi tells you about high school, about the first girl he dated. That’s how you learn that he’s bi, and not gay, and you beat yourself up mentally because now you feel like you’ve lied to Jungkook.

Not that it matters - Yoongi has the potential to be a good friend, but he’s not Jungkook.

You don’t know what to make of the thought, so you push it far, far back in your mind, until its whisper is easily ignorable.

“Shit,” Yoongi lets out a while later as he pulls his phone out of his pockets. “We’ve been in here for two hours.”

You widen your gaze, pulling your phone out as well. Your pulse skyrockets when you notice Jungkook tried to call you twice, leaving you a text that makes you hold in a small smile.

[11:46 pm] JK: where are you [11:46 pm] JK: :(

It’s almost thirty minutes later, but you immediately swipe your phone open to reply.

[12:12 am] You: just chilling with yoongi. wanna head home soon?

“I think I’ll go,” Yoongi says, and you look up from your phone to meet his gaze. “I’ve got lots of stuff to do tomorrow.”

You nod. “We should study together Sunday,” you reply as you both push up to your feet, stretching. “I have a lab report to finish.”

Yoongi agrees, and a second later you’re stepping out of the room. You earn a curious look from three girls sitting on the floor near the bathroom, and you offer them a tight-lipped smile as you pass them on your way to the stairs. 

The music is still loud when you get to the floor level, people dancing and indulging in alcohol and partying like only college kids know how to do. Part of you still wants to revel, to enjoy the night, but your break away from the party with Yoongi has tired you, and you want to head home.

And maybe part of you wants to head home because it means spending time with Jungkook, but you’d never admit it to anyone.

You hug Yoongi goodbye in the middle of the living room, and then you make your way to the kitchen, hoping to find Jungkook there. You don’t find him, but Ria, Seokjin, Namjoon and Nabi are there, and you inform them that Yoongi left.

“What were you guys doing?” Nabi asks, and you immediately know she’s inebriated by the slur in her speech. “Why were you trying to go to the bathroom?”

A slight blush covers Namjoon’s cheeks as you burst out laughing. “What were you guys doing in the bathroom, mmh?” you counter-back.

Ria bursts out laughing, and Seokjin holds in a laugh, his plump lips curving upwards at the corner as Nabi makes a sound you can’t quite interpret. It just makes you laugh, and she’s quick to follow with, “What about it?”

“Nothing,” you say, shrugging your shoulders innocently. “Just an image I’ll never be able to get out of my mind.”

“Gosh,” Namjoon lets out, and you all laugh again.

“Anyways, I was just cheering Yoongi up,” you say after that, and you’re aware it sounds a little suspicious when four pairs of eyes turn to look at you, eyebrows almost touching. “We talked, that’s it,” you add, raising your hands in defence. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“Hobi got pissed when he learned you guys were hiding somewhere together and he dipped,” Ria reveals. “I think you made him jealous.”

“Oof.” You worry at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “Shit, I’m too sober for this.”

For this being lying to your friends, because you know damn well that Hoseok might indeed be jealous of you, but for spending time with Yoongi. Not the other way around. Your friends don’t know though, so you let Ria tug you to the bar, where the amount of alcohol has drastically diminished since the last time you were here.

You end up throwing back shots with your friend, and she inevitably tugs you on the dancefloor next, and you sway to the beat along with her for a while, until you once more feel buzzed with alcohol.

That’s where Jeon Jungkook finds you, arm carelessly wrapping around your shoulder as he pulls you in, startling you.

“Shit,” you say in his face.

“You don’t answer your phone, mmh?” he lets out.

You think you smell cigarette smoke on his breath, but you’re too drunk from his proximity to really be able to tell. He makes your thoughts swim after all, far too much for you to think about anything other than the fact that he’s close enough you could kiss him, here in the middle of a crowded room.

Would people cheer for you guys, or would you earn snickers? You think it’d be the latter option, considering that he’s Taehyung’s friend, but you don’t care.

“Hey you,” you purr, and he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“Hey,” he replies.

You can’t help the soft smile that overtakes your features, and he immediately melts, echoing it. 

“Want to head home?” you ask him.

Someone loudly clears their throat, and you jump out of Jungkook’s arms, cheeks turning fully red. Ria is watching with a wide grin, and she wiggles her eyebrows when you meet her gaze.

“Fuck off,” you tell her, your whole face burning, and she just laughs at your expense as you walk away, Jungkook in tow.

You make it all the way to the room where you’ve left your coat, grabbing it as Jungkook looks around for his, and you’re outside before he meets you, a confused look on his features.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, his breath clouding in front of his face.

You watch as it lifts in the air slowly before vanishing in a gust of wind.

“What?” you let out. “No? Why would I be?”

“You ran out like I did something wrong,” he answers, motioning over his shoulder.

You melt. You melt like ice cream on a hot summer day, dripping to the floor with endearment for the man in front of you. 

“No, I ran because Ria always puts her nose in stuff she shouldn’t,” you say. You look around, fingers itching to reach for him, but people are smoking closer to the street, and you think you recognize some of his friends in the group.

“You were being obvious, peach,” Jungkook teases, and he winks at you, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat as he walks down the three steps from the porch to the lawn. 

You catch up to him quickly as he heads towards the group, wishing everyone good night. Lisa stares at you as you stand next to Jungkook, and your cheeks heat up once more under that watchful gaze.

Luckily enough for you, Jungkook says his goodbyes quickly, and you’re walking away under a minute later, heading to where he parked his car.

“How come you’re always driving to parties now?” you ask Jungkook. “You could afford an Uber.”

He glances at you, shrugging sheepishly. “Then I wouldn’t have a reason to drive you home.”

“Please,” you let out, rolling your eyes. “We could grab an Uber home together. That way you’d be able to drink.”

He looks behind you, making sure you’re not in sight from the frat house anymore, and then he pulls one of his hands out of his coat, grabbing yours. His hand is warm, large, and it engulfs your own hand easily as he tugs you closer.

“You might hate me for this,” Jungkook starts, “but I promised your brother I’d make sure you’re okay during parties this semester.”

This time, you roll your eyes so far back that you think they might get stuck. “He did not ask that of you.”

“He did,” Jungkook insists.

“That’s bullshit.” You sigh loudly, slightly shaking your head. “Even when he’s gone he’s still annoying.”

Jungkook laughs, the sound like a warm blanket wrapped around you. “But yeah, he just asked me to make sure you’re okay, and I got used to not drinking as much at parties.”

“On behalf of Taehyung, I’m sorry.”

He tugs you even closer, and you trip on a crack in the sidewalk. He catches you before you fall, hands finding your waist to steady you. “Careful,” he says. “And don’t apologize, I really don’t mind.” 

You pout, but you fall silent, just enjoying the feel of Jungkook’s hand in yours. You reach his car a few minutes later and, ever so the gentleman, Jungkook holds the door open for you.

You cock an eyebrow, looking back at him with a small smile on your lips as you’re about to get in. “You only opened the door for me ‘cause you want to look at my ass, didn’t you?” you tease.

He laughs, loud and clear, before pushing you in. “Shut up, peach.”

A smile tickles the corner of your lips, like it permanently seems to do when it comes to Jungkook, and then you sit in the car. He shuts the door before making his way to the driver’s side, and a second later, he’s sliding in, offering you a smirk that makes your cheeks burn.

“What?” you let out.

“So what if I just want to look at your ass?” he says, turning the key in the engine. The car purrs to life as Jungkook adds, “You’ve got a really nice ass, especially in those pants.”

You feel all warm and tingly inside, and you roll your eyes as you look away from him. It only makes him chuckle, and then he starts driving, heading towards the home you share. The first minute is spent in silence, the music on the radio low, and you only realize that Jungkook has something on his mind when you glance at him to see him pulling on his piercings with his teeth.

“What’s wrong?” you immediately ask.

“You were with that guy for a long time,” he answers, and his eyes dart to you before returning to the street.

“Yoongi?” you say, though you obviously know that he means Yoongi. “Yeah, he’s a friend.”

“A friend?” Jungkook echoes. 

You hum, nodding your head. “He’s actually fucking Hobi so…”

Jungkook’s gaze widens, and he glances at you. “Hobi? Isn’t that the guy you were fucking?”

“He was,” you say, and you laugh at his expression, dead in the middle of jealousy and surprise. It’s a funny look on his features, though the second you laugh, it melts away, replaced by tender endearment. “He actually started fucking Yoongi during the power outage, and we ended things there.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, but you see a muscle feathering under the skin of his jaw. He looks angry, and could he even be… jealous?

“Are you jealous?” you ask, unable to keep the amusement from your voice.

“I’m not,” Jungkook says, voice so stern you know for a fact that he definitely is jealous.

“You are!” you insist, and you burst out laughing. “Jeon Jungkook is jealous because I used to fuck someone else.”

“I’m not!” Jungkook repeats, louder this time. “I’m not fucking jealous.”

You smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief, and you pat his thigh. “Don’t worry. You’re the only one I want to fuck now.”

“Is that why you spent your evening locked up in a bedroom with some other guy?” he asks, and you hear the jealousy in his voice, clear as day this time. 

“Gosh, JK,” you say teasingly, and you turn towards him, fully facing him. “You’re so jealous.”

He pushes your hand away from where you’d left it on his thigh. “Fuck off.”

You widen your gaze, bursting out laughing a second later. And then, just to piss him off further, you lean closer to him, pressing a kiss on his cheek while your seatbelt tries to pull you back to your seat.

“You’re adorable.”

He makes a non-committal sound as you sit back in your seat, and you return your hand to his thigh, squeezing once. This time he lets you do it, parting his legs slightly so that his thigh is in easier reach for you.

You lean your head against the headrest, eyes searching his profile. He’s just toying with his piercings again, and he looks heavenly in the neon light of the streetlights, the orange glow painting him in a beautiful picture. You sigh, and he glances at you long enough for his eyes to meet yours.

You fall for him. You’ve already been falling for him, inevitably, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you right now that makes you fall irreversibly.

“I want you,” you say, voice breathy.

Jungkook’s car comes to a halt at a red light, and he looks at you again. “Right now?”

You nod, and your hand finds his thigh again. “Shouldn’t I prove to you that you’ve got nothing to worry about?”

“I’m driving, peach.”

You shrug. “Then better keep your eyes on the road.”

Your words turned him on. You’d expected it, yet when you move your hand up, fingers grazing his dick, your throat dries out.

He’s already getting hard.

“You think you can drive while I suck your dick?”

“Peach,” Jungkook says sternly. “We’re almost home.”

“Just keep driving,” you innocently reply, batting your eyelashes.

He rolls his eyes, yet he goes forward when the light turns green instead of turning left like he was supposed to. You bite your lower lip, desire flushing through you as warmth pools at your core.

“You act so tough, but you folded so easily,” you tease, feeling brattier than you’ve ever felt with him.

Maybe because you’re starting to realize the power that you have over Jeon Jungkook, and it’s getting to your head.

“Don’t make me regret, peach,” he warns, voice low and gravelly.

You wet your lips, tilting your head to the side. “Or what?”

“Or I’m driving you home and not fucking you tonight.”

His threat falls flat - the second the words are out of his mouth you caress his length through his pants, and he instinctively bucks his hips.

“Careful,” you let out. “Wouldn’t want to get in an accident.”

He just clenches his jaw as you start working on the button of his jeans. He shifts, allowing you easier access, though it’s still awkward from the sitting position and his seatbelt. Soon enough you manage to get the button undone, and then you unzip his pants.

“Think someone’s going to see us?” you ask as you slide your hand in his pants, gripping his dick over the fabric of his boxers once.

He sits heavily in your hand, already fully hard, and your mouth waters. 

Jeon Jungkook has a lot of power over you, too.

“Not if I can find an empty parking lot,” he says, voice breathy when you stroke him. “Under the boxers, please.”

“Jeon Jungkook, saying please?” you tease, cocking an eyebrow. “I’ll get used to this.”

“Don’t.” His eyes flutter shut for a few seconds when you manage to slide your hand into his boxers, and you let out a breathy sound at the feeling of his soft skin.

“Shit, Jungkook.”

“Mmh?”

“You’re already so hard.”

He chuckles. “You turn me on a lot, peach.”

You like to hear it, so much so that you free his dick from his pants, as much as you possibly can from the angle. 

“Clearly,” you say as you eye the bead of precum forming on his slit. You swipe your thumb on it, smearing it on his tip. 

Jungkook’s grip tightens on the wheel, but he remains silent this time around as he pulls the car into a parking lot. Though it’s not fully empty, he heads to a dark corner, where the lone streetlight died so that he can quickly park the car as you slowly jerk him.

“I thought you’d drive around while I sucked you,” you tease, unbuckling your seat belt. 

His eyes are dark, dangerous, as he casts them on you. “I want to be able to appreciate every second of you choking on my dick, peach.”

You smirk, and you bend down, swirling your tongue around him once. “Yeah?”

He grunts as you suck on his tip, and he reclines his seat, pushing his pants down just enough to fully free his dick. “Yeah.”

You suck once again. “Good boy.”

His large hands find your hair as you swirl your tongue around him, and he pulls it back in a ponytail so that he can watch you work on him, though you’re keen on teasing him more than anything right now.

You want to see how a frustrated Jungkook fucks.

“Just for you,” he replies as you lightly suck his tip once more.

You move to the side, peppering open mouthed kisses all along his shaft, and then some more on his thigh. You suck a hickey there, a dark, purple mark, and Jungkook curses under his breath. 

“Stop teasing,” he says through gritted teeth as you lick the mark.

“Or what?”

You look up to meet his gaze as your tongue toys with his slit. His precum is salty in your mouth, and the frustration building up in his gaze turns your insides to pure lava.

You’re burning for him. Truly burning - you’ve caught fire and you don’t think it can be extinguished.

“Why are you such a brat?” he asks, though he doesn’t sound inquisitive. He rather sounds whiny, like he wants you to stop but some part of him is thrilled.

Or maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s you and your desire for him that’s clouding your mind, like it usually always does.

You go back to his dick, licking your way up and teasing his slit at the top. You then close your mouth around him, give him a tentative suck that makes him buck his hips. You want to pull away, to be more of a brat, but his large hand shifts to the back of your head to hold you in place. You whine, but then he slowly fucks up into your mouth, and it turns into a moan, your eyes watering when he hits the back of your throat.

“See,” he lets out breathlessly. “I know you can take me.”

If you weren’t gone before, you truly are now, and you abandon yourself to the desire you feel for him. You take the lead, bobbing your head up and down as you jerk him off too, making sure every inch of his dick is pleasured. He’s a grunting mess over you, his hand still fisting some of your hair, though he’s thrown his head back and isn’t watching anymore.

You go down, hollowing your cheeks around him, and then slowly come up. You’ve been sloppy, and your spit is a natural lube on his dick as you stop at the tip, swirling your tongue around him.

“Peach,” he says, voice low.

You let go of his dick, meeting his gaze. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, his gaze dark with lust. 

“Mmh?” you let out.

“I really want you right now.”

You don’t need to be told more. You climb on top of him, careful not to press your ass on the honk of his car, and you kiss him rough, your teeth almost clashing as your mouths collide. Jungkook grunts against you, his hands immediately finding your hips, and you moan when he sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth.

“Do you have condoms?” you ask as he moves to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses down the column of your throat.

You lose your hands in his hair as he sucks on the spot where your neck connects with your shoulder. And then he pauses, lifting an apologetic look to you.

“What?” 

“We used the condom last week,” he reminds you.

In New York.

You groan, hiding your face in his neck. “Are you saying we have to drive all the way home now?”

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “Or you finish me off here?” he suggests.

You throw him a stern look that makes him laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. Your heart warms in your chest, chasing away the lust, and all you’re left with are the feelings that have been brewing in you for weeks, feelings you don’t dare name right now.

“Get back in your seat, I’ll drive us home.” 

You pout, and he pecks your lips once. You can’t help the soft smile that grows on your features, and you climb off from him, sitting back in the passenger seat.

A second later you’re pulling out in the street, Jungkook having put his pants back on, and he grabs your hand where it rests on your thigh as he drives. It’s intimate somehow, even more so intimate than you sucking his dick a second ago, and you spend the drive admiring him, wondering how it is that you got so lucky when it comes to him.

He opens the door for you once he’s parked the car near your apartment, and he shuts it behind you before grabbing your hand again, pulling you behind him as you walk home. He unlocks the front door, and then you’re in, engulfed by the gentle warmth of your apartment.

There’s a beat of silence as you exchange a look, the air filling with electricity. With the knowledge of what’s about to happen - your blood heats up in your veins, bringing back the arousal that had clouded the car just a few minutes ago.

“You know,” Jungkook lets out, and he takes a step closer to you, towering over you. “It was my first time getting sucked in my car.”

For some reason it surprises you. You didn’t think Jungkook had many firsts left, yet in a week you’ve done two of them with him.

“It was?”

He nods, and he grabs your jaw to tilt your head back, his grip gentle yet firm. “And you were so good to me, mmh?” You reckon you were a brat, and maybe you should remind him, but when he adds, “Should I be good to you now?”, you only nod. He laughs, saying, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It’s all you have time to say before he’s crashing his lips on yours, and he swallows the breathy sound you instinctively let out. His hand falls to your waist, pulling you in, while yours do quick work of pushing his coat off his shoulders. He helps you by taking it off, and you both don’t care to put it in the closet, not when his tongue is in your mouth and he’s turning into the oxygen in your lungs. 

Taking off your shoes prove to be awkward, as you’re both reluctant to disconnect from the kiss, but it’s oh so worth it once you manage to free your feet from the shoes, and then Jungkook picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pushes you against the door.

You wrap your arms around his neck, sucking on his tongue when he pushes it in your mouth again, and he grunts, grinding into you.

“You make me insane,” he says against your mouth, and then he pulls away to suck another mark on your neck. 

You pull at his hair, and he retaliates by grinding his hips into yours again. “I really want you, Kook,” you say, the nickname slipping from your mouth.

Jungkook pulls back, just enough so that his gaze can meet yours. “What did you just call me?”

Though your heart is beating so loud you can barely hear your thoughts, you manage to recall, repeating, “Kook?”

“Say it again.” 

The intensity in his gaze is not one you can shield from, and you find yourself lacking any defiance. “Kook,” you repeat, softer this time.

“Shit, please always call me that.”

When his soft lips find yours again, you sigh, and he pulls away from the door to carry you to his room, his mouth barely disconnecting just long enough for him to focus on opening the door. He walks in, not bothering to kick the door shut, and he puts you down on his bed, his lips disconnecting just long enough for him to take off his shirt before he’s climbing over top of you, his mouth seeking yours.

You run your hands along his warm skin, appreciating the muscles in his back as he shifts, nails lightly grazing him. He grinds into you in retaliation, and you moan in his mouth, a sound he swallows like a starved man.

Jungkook kneels between your legs, and despite the fact that he didn’t turn the lights on, you still take a moment to admire him in the dim light filtering in from the windows. His big, doe eyes are narrowed softly, like he’s holding in a smile, and he gently runs a hand up your arm before pulling you to a sitting position.

He takes off your coat, eyes never leaving yours - like he’s lost in your gaze the same way that you’re lost in his - and then he takes care of your shirt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He plays with his piercings as he takes in the sight of your breasts, nipples perked.

“Not wearing a bra?” he teases, and he pinches one of your nipples.

You moan softly, and he pushes you back down so that he can bend and wrap his lips around your other nipple, tongue teasing at the sensitive bud.

“Is there something wrong with that?” you ask once he’s lifted your head from your breast.

“No. Just made me realize that I should have fucked you at the party.”

You bite your lower lip. “You should have.”

“Then everyone would know how good I make you feel, mmh?” he says, and then he starts going down your body, pressing kisses along the column of your neck, and then on your collarbone. Your breasts come next, and he takes his time worshipping them while you tug at his hair, just enough for him to grunt against you.

When he gets tired of your breasts, Jungkook moves lower, pressing gentle kisses on your abdomen, up until he reaches the band of your pants. He looks up then, meeting your gaze seeking consent, and you offer it to him with a nod of your head.

It doesn’t take him more to go lower, and he kisses your clit over your pants. You let out a breathy sound, and he kneels so that he can take off your pants, pulling your panties down at the same time. 

You’re dripping wet. You’ve been dripping wet since you sucked him in his car, and Jungkook watches your juices glistening as he pulls on his lip piercings. “Shit, peach. You’re fucking soaked.”

“I know,” you let out.

“So, so good to me,” he whispers to himself, and then he dives in, licking up from your entrance to your clit, where he swirls his tongue against the sensitive bud.

You become a moaning and writhing mess as he eats you out, as his tongue presses expert circles around your clit. He starts fingering you at the same time, scissoring motions fighting against your walls as they instinctively tighten around him, yet Jungkook doesn’t falter.

He never does. He never falters, is always good to you. It’s no wonder you start riding the wave towards an orgasm in no time, the pressure on your clit just enough to keep you on edge without pushing you over. You try to grind into his mouth, but he pushes you back down, one large hand on your stomach.

“Just let me please you, mmh?” he says against you.

“Jungkook…”

And then he truly goes in, his tongue flat against your clit as he moves his head from side to side, his fingers curling perfectly inside of you. The orgasm hits like a train, and your vision turns white as your walls pulse around his digits. 

Jungkook milks the orgasm out of you, making sure you’re truly spent before sitting back on his heels. You look at him through blissed, half-lidded eyes, and he palms himself over his pants, getting up to take off the rest of his clothes a few seconds later. He stands there for a time, his dick rock hard, and then he walks over to his night table to grab a condom. 

A moment later he’s back between your legs, rubbing his dick up and down your folds to collect your juice. 

“Ready?” he asks.

You’re still high from the orgasm, so you just nod your head once, eyes fluttering shut as he pushes inside of you and you let out a broken moan. He grips your waist, fingers ever so slightly pushing into the supple skin as he seats all of himself inside of you, and then he gives one thrust, pushing back out and then in in a swift motion.

“Peach,” he grunts, and his thumbs shift on your skin, like he’s caressing your sides.

“Mmh?” you let out.

He doesn’t move for a time, and your eyes slide open to meet his gaze. The intensity behind his pupils nearly undoes you, making you reach towards him until he lets go of your waist to grab your hand instead. He leans forward, holding your hand over your head, and then he steals a quick kiss on your lips.

“Let me know if I hurt you?” he says against your mouth.

You kiss him again for good measures, and then whisper, “Don’t worry, I can take it.”

“Fuck,” he curses, and then he starts fucking you, slowly yet deep, his dick infinitely hard inside of you.

He keeps at it for a time, his forehead resting against yours as he fucks you passionately, taking in the breathy sounds you make. Your free hand finds his waist, as if you can urge him to go faster, yet he resists, just keeping that same slow and steady beat. 

He lifts his head, pecks your forehead and then says, “Ready?”

“Yeah,” is all you have time to say before everything changes and he starts pounding into you unforgivingly. 

You hold on to his shoulders, nails digging in his skin as his head hangs low. He grunts directly in your ear as he fucks you, the sounds he makes almost pornographic. It’s hot, deadly so, but then again you think everything he does is hot.

You’re a goner for him. For your brother’s best friend, for someone you can’t truly have. It sobers you, and Jungkook seems to notice the shift in your attitude because he stills inside of you, raising his head to meet your gaze.

“Are you okay?” he gently asks. 

His big, doe eyes are filled with concern for you, with so much emotion you think you might drown. You cup his cheek, taking it all in.

Maybe you truly can give it a chance.

“I think I’m falling for you,” you breathe.

He doesn’t move for a while, doesn’t even blink, but then he grins. He grins, and you think you’ve never seen something as beautiful as him.

“Then that makes two of us,” he whispers, and then he’s kissing you languidly, his hips resuming their motions, though they’re slower this time, closer to what it was like at the beginning. 

You love it all the same, holding him as close to you as you can, kissing him back with every little treacherous emotion you don’t want to name.

He really is too good to be true.

“I’m going to come,” he whispers against your mouth, and he sounds slightly surprised.

Like he didn’t think he could come from gentler, softer sex like what you’re partaking in right now. Yet you react accordingly, pulling on his hair just enough to sting.

“Yeah?” you let out.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

“Fucking come for me, Kook.”

The nickname unleashes him, and he pounds into you, chasing his high as you rake your nails on his back. A few deep thrusts later he’s coming, slamming to the hilt as his dick twitches inside of you, and he kisses you again, grunts and groans in your mouth as you take it all in, your walls pulsing around him like you’re coming too.

It takes you both a while to come down from the high, and Jungkook doesn’t move, stays there with his forehead resting against yours as you breathe in the same air. Your hands run up and down his back in soothing motions despite the thin sheen of sweat covering him, and he occasionally presses soft pecks on your lips that you immediately reciprocate.

Eventually the moment passes, and Jungkook slips out of you to lie down next to you instead, though he stays close, nuzzling his face in your neck as he rests his hand on your stomach. You feel safe, warm, and you wish the world could stop right now. You wish you could stay here, forever.

And tonight you reckon you’re foolish enough to believe you might.

Prev | Next

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these two are so obsessed with each other, help :') hope you guys liked this chapter! Let me know what you think!!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Chasing Cars | ch 15.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: curses, mentions of jk's unaliving attempt, explicit content: hickeys, fingering, they are so in love and can't stop saying it, unprotected sex, creampie

☆word count: 2.6k

☆a/n: i love them, and my bad if there are any typos this is heavily unedited haha let me know if you see any!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook feels anxious. Ever since Taehyung asked him to meet up to talk, he’s been feeling incredibly anxious, like his heart might explode in his chest. Even worse - he’s afraid he’ll run into you when he gets to the apartment, and after what you said on Thursday, he thinks he might break with no way to heal if he sees you.

He’s scheduled an appointment with his therapist later today. All he can do is hope that it’ll help. And that his conversation with Taehyung will help, too.

Taehyung is in the living room when Jungkook gets home, playing on the Switch. He pauses his game the second Jungkook walks in, and they both stare at each other for a time, an uneasy silence filling the apartment.

Taehyung breaks it first. “Hey.”

Jungkook takes off his shoes but keeps his coat on as he heads towards the living room. “Hey.”

“How have you been?” Taehyung asks.

It’s awkward, and Jungkook hates it. He’s been hating way too much stuff in his life lately.

“Fine,” Jungkook replies. 

He can’t bring himself to return the question, and he sits at the other extremity of the couch, as far away from Taehyung as he possibly can.

“Listen…” Taehyung says when he realizes Jungkook won’t say anything else. “I’m sorry I punched you.” He winces as his eyes go over the bruise and wound Jungkook knows adorn his cheek. “Shit, I actually got you good.”

“You did,” Jungkook coldly replies.

Taehyung eyes his knuckles, which have also turned red and purple from the blow. “I really am sorry for that. I don’t know why I punched you, and I’m a little disgusted with myself that I did.”

“You were mad. It makes sense.”

Taehyung shakes his head no. “It doesn’t make sense. But… man, why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“Because you told me you’d kill me if I did touch her?” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Yet you still went behind my back and fucked her,” Taehyung states, a hint of anger flashing behind the words.

“I didn’t fuck your sister,” Jungkook spits. “It’s never been like that with her.”

Taehyung remains silent for a few seconds and then sighs deeply. “Then how is it?”

His tone is cool, composed, and a lot nicer than Jungkook expected it to be. It calms down the anger that was starting to simmer in his blood better than a cold shower would have.

“Wha - what?” Jungkook lets out.

Taehyung offers him a smile that seems forced, yet Jungkook sees it for what it is - he’s trying to make an effort.

“How is it with Y/n?”

Jungkook gulps, gaze widening. “Huh… well…” he trails off, eyes falling to his hands, where he’s been mindlessly pulling at the calluses he gets from working out. “It’s… great. I know she’s your sister but fuck… she’s amazing.”

“She is,” Taehyung agrees.

“But I fucked everything up in Paris when I kissed Gabrielle.”

The silence that follows is heavy, interrupted by Taehyung’s sigh what feels like an eternity later.

“Were you guys together then?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook shrugs. “We weren’t together together. But yes we were.” He pauses, and his throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper when he tries to swallow. “We started on Valentine’s Day.”

Taehyung’s nose is scrunched up, much like you sometimes do, when Jungkook looks at him. “That’s… a long time ago.”

“We ended in Paris, though,” Jungkook adds. “Except last Thursday.”

“I thought you and Lisa…” Taehyung trails off.

“It happened once last month,” Jungkook immediately explains, probably far more defensive than necessary. “And Y/n actually caught us together so… I ended things with Lisa right away.”

“I remember Lisa being pissed about it,” Taehyung admits. “But then she said that it was because of another girl, and looking back I was stupid to think it was Gaby.”

Jungkook purses his lips. “I haven’t spoken to Gaby in person since Paris. We only texted a couple of times.”

Including that one time she’d given him shit for not telling you about his promise to her.

“Right…” Taehyung trails off. He sighs, sitting back on the couch, throwing Jungkook a look. “What do you want with my sister?”

Jungkook gulps around a sudden lump in his throat. What does he want with you? He already knows, but can he tell Taehyung? Can he tell your brother that he’s so irreversibly in love with you he thinks he’s been dying since you said it was a lapse of judgment on Thursday?

That he almost died in July after he lost you?

“You want the truth?” Jungkook asks, his heart rate spiking. “I’m in love with her. I just want her to be happy, and of course I wish she’d want to be happy with me, but I don’t think that’ll happen after last Thursday.”

“You’re in love with her?” Taehyung repeats.

Jungkook gulps. “Yes.”

Taehyung nods and, to Jungkook’s surprise, taps Jungkook’s shoulder. “Noted. Come home, Jungkook. You should talk to her.”

Jungkook is stunned silent, and he just stares at Taehyung, just stares at his best friend unblinkingly, not understanding where the conversation went.

“What?”

“Come home,” Taehyung repeats. “I’m not mad at you. I was mostly mad that you both hid it from me for months, but clearly I was wrong.” He pauses, chuckles lightly. “At least that’s what Ari said. She quite literally beat some sense into me.”

So… this is it? The biggest obstacle to you and him… wasn’t even an obstacle?

“She did?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung tilts his head to the side, gaze widening as if he’s reminiscing about what happened with Ariane. “She said that I was a dick for not letting you guys figure your shit out. I think Gaby told her about the two of you.”

That would make sense, considering that the two girls are best friends. 

“Oh,” is all Jungkook manages to say.

Taehyung surveys him for a few seconds, as Jungkook’s world crumbles down around him. It’s like the floor disappeared, and he’s plummeting towards the ground with no parachute to save him.

Taehyung is not opposed to your relationship.

If you want it, Jungkook can be with you.

“So come home,” Taehyung repeats. “Talk to Y/n. Fix shit with her.” Taehyung smiles, and this time it’s fully genuine. “I just want you both to be happy.”

Jungkook nods, and he has to take a deep breath to refrain from crying then and there. “Okay.” He nods again. “Okay, I will talk to her.”

There’s a moment of silence as Taehyung just carefully observes Jungkook. Jungkook wonders, can Taehyung hear the wild beats of his heart at the perspective of talking to you?

“Can I…” Taehyung starts, and then his eyes drop to his hands in his lap. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s heart seems to come to a full halt in his chest. “Yeah?”

“What happened last summer…” Taehyung trails off. “Is it related to Y/n?”

A bottle of wine crashing on the pavement comes to Jungkook’s mind. But he never told Taehyung - how would he know?

“What do you mean?” Jungkook replies, pulling on his piercings.

“In July.” Taehyung sighs, meeting Jungkook’s gaze for a few seconds. “Lisa told Sera, and she told me and Jimin.”

Jungkook hates it. He hates it so much, hating the vulnerability that it imposes him.

“Ah.” He gulps, and he thinks about you for a moment.

Thinks about the fact that you were the only thing on his mind when he was so close to ending it.

“It was partly caused by losing her, yes,” Jungkook finally answers, and he’s suddenly blinking back tears.

“Fuck, JK…” Taehyung trails off. “You really should have told me about her…”

“I didn’t think you’d be… open-minded,” Jungkook says, shrugging his shoulders. “And she’d already ended things with me then.”

Taehyung nods once, and then sighs again. “Please don’t keep everything to yourself now, okay? I really don’t want you to think you’re alone. And I really don’t want you to ever feel like… that is a solution. So please talk to me, talk to Jimin whenever you need help, okay?”

Jungkook can’t speak around the lump in his throat, so all he does is nod. Taehyung understands - they’re best friends after all.

“I love you, bro,” Taehyung adds. “Please talk to Y/n.”

“I will,” Jungkook answers, his voice choked up with emotion.

All he can hope for is for you to be open to the conversation, whenever it comes. 

*****

For the first time in months, Jungkook feels at peace.

You’re here with him, and for the first time, he knows he won’t have to let go. Maybe that’s why he’s kissing you slowly, softly - you have all of eternity stretched ahead of you. Yet it seems you want more. Your kisses grow deeper, and soon his blood is pulsing at his ears, shooting down to his dick, and Jungkook pushes his tongue in your mouth.

It’s like he’s discovering you for the first time. He marvels at your sight, at your taste, at the way you moan softly against his lips. He swallows your sounds, inhales your inebriating scent, and he climbs on top of you, gently parting your legs with his knee so that he can be as close to you as possible.

He has half a thought that Taehyung is somewhere in the apartment, but the way you wrap your legs around his waist makes him forget everything until there’s just you and him.

He leaves your mouth to find your neck, his tongue darting out to taste you. A second later he’s sucking a hickey on your skin, and you moan softly, hand pulling at his hair.

“Kook,” you breathe out.

He pauses, just content with being close to you. “I love you, peach.”

Your arms wrap tightly around him, and though you have to be aware of his erection pressing against you, you both just stay there for a moment. 

“Love you too, Kook. So, so much.”

It’s the way you say the words. Jungkook immediately feels the need to be inside you, to be surrounded by you, and he kneels between your legs so that he can take off his shirt. You run a hand on his body, awe in your eyes like you, too, can’t believe you made it in the end. He takes a moment to look at you, to take in the way your eyes sparkle with emotion - with love, lust and yearning.

He loves you. And the best part about it is, you love him too.

“Fuck, peach,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”

You sit up, taking off your shirt in one swift motion that reveals so much skin - you weren’t wearing a bra - and Jungkook thinks he’ll go insane. It’s like he forgot what you looked like despite seeing you just a few days ago - it feels like a whole lifetime ago.

You’ve gained muscles over the months apart. You’re leaner, and there’s a strength to your curves that makes Jungkook’s dick twitch in his pants. The tattoo on your ribs is all too attractive too, and Jungkook takes a moment to trace it as you lie back down under his watchful gaze.

The art is beautiful. Delicate, with fine lines that have sunk perfectly in your skin. Jungkook wonders who your artist is, if they’d be able to tattoo something on him too, something to remind him of you. But then you’re whining from lack of attention, and Jungkook leans down, kissing you deeply.

You run your hands on the skin of his back, nails lightly digging in his skin, and when he grunts softly, you whisper, “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He goes fully insane. Insanely in love, perhaps. He undresses you, kissing every inch of skin revealed, and though he wants to taste you, to eat you out until you come undone on his tongue, his dick is throbbing too painfully for him to ignore it.

You’re glistening, your arousal evident the second his eyes land on you. He still takes a moment to slip two fingers inside of you as he kisses you again, swallowing your soft moans as they come. And when he thinks you’re ready, stretched enough for his dick, Jungkook takes off the rest of his clothes. His dick springs free, already rock hard like it always is with you, and he jerks himself off a couple of times as he watches you, as you watch him through half-lidded eyes.

“Condom?” he asks, though he hopes you’ll say no.

He wants to feel all of you again.

You shake your head no. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Fuck,” he curses, his dick hardening even more. “Fuck, peach, I love you.”

He comes closer, rubbing his tip on you, collecting your juices. It’s so sensitive without a condom, and he has to bite the tip of his tongue so that he doesn’t come right away. It doesn’t help that you’re so wet. That a moment later he’s slipping in, inch after inch, your walls sucking him in. 

It doesn’t help that you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows bunch together from the pleasure. You’re so hot like this, so sinfully beautiful, and some feral part of him just wants to pound into you, to fuck you until the whole neighbourhood knows that you’re his forever now.

But he tames himself, slowly pulls out before pushing all the way in again. 

“Kook,” you moan, and your hand finds one of his where it’s holding your waist. “Come close.”

You don’t have to ask twice, especially not as he wants you close, too. So he bends down, cages you between his forearms, and then he establishes a slow rhythm. Your hips lift to meet his, your walls tightening around him from the motion, and he knows he’ll come fast.

You’re too tight, too wet, for him to hold on for a long time. So he tells you how much he loves you. Whispers on your lips that he never wants to be separated from you again, that he thinks you’re the reason he’s alive. You confess your love back, tell him that he’s so worthy of your love, that you wouldn’t want anyone other than him. 

You tell him that you’ll love him when you’re old, which makes him laugh against your lips. There’s beauty in the thought, in the knowledge that he does have a lifetime with you.

“You’re…” he trails off, because he has no words to describe how amazing you are, and his dick is stealing most of the blood from his brain.

So he kisses you instead. Kisses you slow, kisses you deep, his motions growing faster until they turn sloppy, and then he pushes all the way in, his dick twitching as he unloads his cum deep inside of you. You hold him tight, pussy pulsating around him, and Jungkook’s high keeps going on and on, your lips muffling his groans and soft moans.

“I love you,” he says again when he starts being able to think once more.

He’ll never get tired of telling you.

“I love you too, Kook,” you whisper.

He’ll never get tired of hearing that, too.

Read chapter fifteen here!

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he is so in love with her please send help. Let me know what you think of the drabble!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Chasing Cars | ch 17 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, mentions of OC thinking Jungkook was going to hurt himself in October, mentions of Hobi, explicit content: nipple/breast play, hickeys, praising, teasing, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, balls sucking, a bit of mouth fucking, hair pulling, fingering, unprotected sex (don't be stupid)

☆word count: 9k

☆a/n: I don't want this to be the end no :') thank you for accompanying me on this journey. I hope you loved this story as much as I loved writing it, and I hope it stays in your heart like it will for sure stay in mine <3 thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

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If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

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Thursday, December 19th

It snowed for the first time of the year this afternoon. 

It had been forecasted for a week now, but you still smile as you walk out of the exam building along with Nabi, a blanket of snow covering the ground. Students are milling around, throwing snowballs and building snowmen as their cheeks turn rosy, and their breaths turn into clouds that slowly lift towards the cloud-covered sky. 

It’s not snowing anymore, but it’s supposed to start again over the night, which you reckon might disrupt your plans of driving home tomorrow with Taehyung, Ariane and Jungkook. You think your mother would be relieved - the apartment will be crowded for two weeks, and you know she likes her space.

At least she doesn’t have a boyfriend this year, and so it’ll only be the five of you. It’s not like you aren’t used to sharing a roof with the three others though - you’ve been good at it this semester, especially considering that you and Jungkook have been sharing a room, and Taehyung and Ariane another.

Which left your old room as a guest room for the nights Jimin and Sera get too drunk with you to make their way home.

Your relationship with Jungkook has slowly evolved over the weeks and months since you’d run home thinking that he was going to hurt himself. You’re now fully dating, or at least you tell so to everyone that asks you where you’re standing when it comes to Jungkook.

You know he does the same anyway, even if you haven’t really stated to each other that you are boyfriend and girlfriend yet. You don’t think it matters - your relationship with him has been going on for far longer than just a few weeks, and the absence of a label doesn’t scare you in the slightest. Not when you fall asleep and wake up next to him every day, his first and last words of the day always love confessions uttered against your skin.

It’s a side of Jungkook that you like. The way he’s demonstrative of his affection, not caring if your brother is watching whenever he hugs you or kisses you. Taehyung has cursed the two of you repeatedly for it, but there’s just some beauty in the carefree act of loving each other in front of the very person you thought would end you that you both can’t let go of.

Speaking about that, your relationship with Taehyung has been… strained, since October. You haven’t really been able to forgive him for what happened that night he threw Jungkook out of the apartment, and he hasn’t quite been able to forgive you for hiding your relationship with Jungkook from him. You think he’s a little hypocritical for it - he and Jungkook have had no trouble resuming their friendship despite the fact that you and Jungkook are now a thing. But you don’t mind. 

As long as Jungkook is happy, then you are happy too.

“You coming to Yoongi and Namjoon’s tonight, right?” Nabi says as you walk down the path, your shoes crunching on the snow.

You chuckle. “You think I’d miss Yoongi introducing his boyfriend?” you say. “Hell nah. Of course I’ll be there.”

Nabi laughs, slightly shaking her head. “It’s not like you haven’t seen them together at the gym.”

She’s got a point, but you still want to see gym guy - Mikey, you’ve now found out - out of his natural habitat, aka the gym. 

“Is Jungkook coming?” she asks.

You nod. “Later though. He’s going out for drinks with his friends, and he said he’d meet up around eleven.”

“That’s late,” she comments.

You playfully push her. “We’ll probably be going until three am, I think eleven is fine.”

She laughs, though her eyes sparkle as she looks at you, with excitement and amusement you know is reciprocated in your own gaze.

Tonight will be one for the books, and you just can’t wait.

You have to head to your apartment first, to take a quick shower and grab the drinks you’ve bought for the evening. Nabi tags along, chilling with Ariane in the living room while you get ready. You get out of the shower ten minutes later to see that they’ve been joined by Taehyung.

The absence of Jungkook brings a pout to your lips, even though you know he’s just with Jimin and Eunwoo at Jimin’s apartment, pre-drinking for the bar.

“What’s up?” Taehyung greets you. 

You offer him a tight-lipped smile. He takes it in stride, looking away from you to focus on Nabi and Ariane’s conversation while you make your way to your room to do your makeup quickly. Soon enough you’re ready to go, and you stop by the kitchen to grab the drinks - different flavours of lemonade with alcohol, like maybe it’s summer and the snow outside is but a mirage.

“Let’s go!” you say as you reach the living room next, and Nabi nods as she jumps up from the couch, meeting you near the door.

“I am so excited Y/n, you have no idea,” she says, and you laugh as you nod approvingly.

“Let’s go see what that Mikey is made of.”

Her laugh doubles up, and it follows you outside after you’ve put your coats and boots on. You’ve decided to walk to Yoongi and Namjoon’s place, and Nabi lets out a happy yelp when it starts snowing again.

“It’s so pretty!” she says, motioning to the fat snowflakes that are lazily falling from the sky.

You fully agree with her - there’s something magical about the first day of snow. It fills the air with excitement and joy and nostalgia for the days when you were younger and the first snow meant the beginning of the Christmas season, which you reckon might have always been your favourite season after all.

“It really is,” you agree with Nabi.

She nods wisely, and then throws you a look. “Did you know Ariane’s grandfather was French?”

You actually did. Ariane told you it was the reason why she’d decided to do a semester abroad in Paris, and that her grandfather had also been the one to name her. 

“Yeah, she told me all about it when we went out to the karaoke bar,” you say, referencing an outing that had taken place in early November, when your relationship with Jungkook still felt fresh.

Not that it doesn’t anymore. You reckon being with Jungkook will always be refreshing to you - he’s the oasis in the middle of your desert.

“Oh right,” Nabi lets out. “That time you lost your voice for five days straight.”

“I did not!” you cry out as she bursts out laughing.

You, as a matter of fact, did lose your voice, but it was only because you and Jungkook had gotten too drunk and you were screaming more than singing by the end of the evening.

You spend the rest of the walk to Yoongi’s apartment bickering with Nabi, laughing as you reminisce about the good times you spent over the last few months. And there have been many - Jungkook fits right in with your friend group, and you’ve been hanging out with all of them on multiple occasions, Taehyung, Ariane, Sera and Jimin even tagging along some of the time.

You get to Yoongi’s apartment at the same time as a flustered Seokjin, who admits he had to sprint to make it in time because Ria complained about his tardiness. He’s clutching two rosé bottles for dear life - Ria’s preferred alcoholic beverage now - and he explains he was late because of them. Though you know Ria probably wasn’t actually upset with him in the slightest, you still find it weirdly endearing that Seokjin ran.

It’s proof that he’s utterly obsessed with your friend, much like she is obsessed with him, too.

“Well then let’s get in,” Nabi says, and you follow her inside the building, and then up to the apartment in and of itself. 

The door is unlocked when you get there, and you walk in, taking off your boots in the hall before making your way to the living room, where your friend group is all gathered already.

The first person you notice is Mikey, and he politely smiles at you as Ria throws herself at you and Nabi, hugging you both tight to her chest.

“Congrats on finishing your semester!” Ria says. 

You thank her, and she takes the drinks you’ve brought from your hands so that you can take off your coat, putting them down on the coffee table where all available alcohol is waiting for you all. And there’s a lot - you would think a lot more people are coming tonight, but it really is just the seven of you, and Jungkook later.

You reckon it’s just another sign that tonight will be one for the books.

You start the evening by ordering dumplings, and you grab one of the lemonade drinks as you wait for the food to arrive, sipping from it as you talk with all of your friends. Mikey remains silent by Yoongi’s side, though you notice the way they’re holding hands, and you smile at the sight.

Yoongi is shining. His eyes are sparkling like you’ve never seen them do before, and he looks like the sun personified with Mikey by his side. He deserves the happiness, every single ounce of it, especially after what Hoseok put him through.

For some reason the thought reminds you of your old friend, and you wonder how Hoseok is doing on his side of the country. Has he found the solace he was seeking for? Though you’d long hated him for the way he’d ghosted everyone, tonight you reckon you forgive him.

You forgive him for what he put Yoongi through, only because it allowed Yoongi to experience this relationship now, a much needed relationship that’s been healing every jagged piece of his heart.

Your phone buzzes in the pocket of the sweatshirt you’re wearing - Jungkook’s shirt - and you pull it out, immediately smiling when you see that Jungkook texted you.

[5:57 pm] JK: am tipsy

[5:57 pm] JK: can’t wait to see you later

You laugh at his text, replying quickly to make sure to drink water, and then you put your phone away, focusing on the conversation again.

“That’s just because you’re jealous I can make good music!” Yoongi is saying, and Namjoon rolls his eyes, though the laugh on his lips tells you that they aren’t truly fighting.

“You say you make good music but none of us has ever heard your music, Yoongi,” Ria says, finger pointing at him like she’s scolding him. 

“You’ve never showed them your music?” Mikey intervenes.

Yoongi blushes, eyes falling to the floor. “Well, uh, I just never had the occasion to…”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Namjoon says. “Pull out the receipts, Yoongi.”

Yoongi shakes his head, looking around for salvation. He meets your gaze, but you only shrug your shoulders, a mischievous smile on your lips. You’ve been curious about his music too, so you certainly won’t be the one to encourage him to hide it for longer.

“I hate y’all,” Yoongi grumbles.

“I mean, you don’t have to share if you don’t want to,” Mikey says next to him, resting a hand on Yoongi’s thigh as Yoongi grabs his phone.

“Nah, it’s okay,” Yoongi reassures him, and they look at each other for a few seconds.

It’s intimate, and you look down at your drink to give them privacy. A few seconds later, the living room fills with the intro of a song, and your gaze widens when the lyrics start, all in Korean. You don’t think Yoongi’s the one singing, and you’re proven right when a rapper comes in, and you recognize Yoongi’s voice.

“Bro, what?” Seokjin lets out.

“Shhh!” Nabi says, and Ria fake-glares at Seokjin, who just purses his lips, visibly holding a laugh in.

The song is good. More than that, the song is moving, the emotions running high all throughout it, up until the end, when the instruments all stop except the piano, giving a melancholy ending to the song.

“Yoongi!” you let out. “That shit is fire.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi says, his cheeks turning deep red.

Mikey is smiling next to him as everyone congratulates him, and before you have time to listen to more of his music, Namjoon receives a text saying that the food has arrived. He goes downstairs with Seokjin to bring everything up, and a minute later you’re all eating at the kitchen table, Ria sitting on Seokjin’s lap so that everyone can fit around the table.

The evening unfolds with more music that Yoongi composed, songs he claims he wants to put in an EP he’ll release next year. You’re reeling at the beauty of his talent, and though he still turns red every time someone compliments him, you know his smile means he appreciates it, and is probably relieved that you all enjoy his music. 

You reckon Mikey helps, encouraging Yoongi whenever he looks too embarrassed, and you’re so happy for your friend you feel like crying. Or maybe that’s because you’re on your fourth - fifth? - lemonade and the alcohol has started messing with your brain.

Time flies, and Jungkook texts you that he’s on his way while you’re playing Jackbox on the TV, the laughter so loud in the small living room that you’re convinced the boys might get a noise complaint by the end of the evening. You’re excited to see Jungkook, deadly so, and you decide to meet him downstairs, needing some fresh air anyway.

The snow is still falling outside when you make your way downstairs. The streetlights colour it in neon orange, and it covers the ground in a soft blanket. You wait in the hall of the building, watching the world outside and thinking about how everything has changed in a year.

If someone had told you a year ago that you’d be dating your brother’s best friend now, you would have told them that they were crazy. 

Now you know there’s nothing crazy about you and Jeon Jungkook. It just makes sense. 

Jungkook arrives sometime later - it’s hard to tell if it’s been a long time or not when your head is swimming in alcohol. He smiles brightly the second he sees you, opening the door to walk into your arms.

You hug him tight to your chest, hiding your face in his neck as his arms snake around your waist. He smells of home - you’ve realized he’s become your home now - and you relax in his embrace, letting him sway you from side to side gently.

“Hey there,” he greets you with his softest voice, the one that’s reserved just for you.

“Hey,” you reply. There’s a silence as you tighten your hold on him, and then you pull away to meet his gaze. “I’m drunk.”

He laughs, pecking your forehead. “I’m tipsy. But I drank lots of water like you said.”

You nod approvingly and then return your head to his neck. Unable to resist, you lightly bite at the skin, and Jungkook yelps, jumping out of your arms.

“What was that for!”

You eye him up and down. “You look yummy.”

He snorts, grabbing your hand to pull you in. “Oh, you’re drunk drunk.”

“I’m not!” you insist, though you’re fully aware that you are.

It’s not like it matters - you know Jungkook will take care of you.

And he does - he gets you water as soon as you get inside, your friends greeting him in a chorus of hellos. He waves at them, forces you to sit down with the glass of water, and you sip from it as he grabs the beer Namjoon offers him. 

Namjoon and Jungkook’s friendship has blossomed over the last two months. They’ve gotten really close, often hanging out just the two of them, which you think is adorable. They apparently have more in common than you thought, Namjoon coming from a rich family as well.

Nothing like Jungkook, but still.

Jungkook sits in front of you on the floor, and you immediately slide down from the couch to sit behind him so that he can lean against your chest. You wrap your arm around his dainty waist, smiling softly as you peck the top of his head.

He glances at you, eyes gleaming with happiness, and then resumes his conversation with Namjoon.

This, you think, is happiness. This is the kind of scene you see in movies when everything is resolved after a long journey. It’s a coming of age - your coming of age, despite the fact that you aren’t a teenager anymore. 

You just know that, when you’ll be old and grey and reminding yourself of your college days, this is what you’ll think of. Jungkook’s presence amongst your friends, the gentle ambiance of the snow outside, the smiles and the laughter and the music filling the air. Everything - you’ll remember everything with vivid clarity when it’s time to go, knowing that this moment, and all of those related to Jungkook and your friend group, have forged the person that you’ll become.

The thought brings tears to your eyes - happy tears - and you blink them away as you hug Jungkook tighter. He looks back at you again, smiling softly, light filling those big doe eyes of his that you’ve been in love with since a certain power outage.

To think that your whole relationship with him started because of that outage - where would you be now if it hadn’t been for that?

“What?” Jungkook asks softly. 

“I love you,” you reply.

He grins, that adorable bunny grin of his that steals your breath each time. “I love you too.”

You know it - it’s been a law of your universe since you ran back home that October night, when you realized that your love for him was far more important than your brother being upset with him.

In truth, you think your love for Jeon Jungkook might have been the reason why you were put on this Earth - your purpose, if you will. Like the Fates weaved your story with his, until one can’t exist without the other.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tuesday, December 24th

Christmas Eve has been fun. You’ve been laughing around with Taehyung, Ariane, Jungkook and your mother, sharing way too much food at the dinner table. Good food - your mother has always been a good cook, whenever she finds the time to actually come up with a meal. Jungkook helped her too, and you haven’t missed the approving glances your mother has been throwing him all evening.

Ariane has received her good shares of those too. You can tell your mother is happy for both you and Taehyung, which makes you feel bad that you initially thought it was good that she’s currently single.

She deserves love, too.

You’re in the bathroom, sometime after midnight, mind swimming with the eggnog drinks that your mother made for everyone, when your phone buzzes in the back pocket of the mom jeans you’re wearing. You pull it out, blinking a few times, and your gaze widens when you focus on the text message you’ve received.

Mostly, your heart falls to your ass when you see who texted you.

[00:24 am] Hobi: hey, merry christmas! just wanted to text to apologize for dipping in april? that sucked of me and yeah, it’s christmas so i thought it was a good time to apologize

You reread the message a few times, wondering if you’re the only one that’s received an apology. You highly doubt you’re the one that needed it after all, and when your phone buzzes again a few seconds later, with a text from Yoongi, you realize you’re not.

[00:24 am] Yoongi: you’ll never believe who just texted me

You slide your phone open, ignoring the conversation with Hoseok to head straight to the one with Yoongi. You type your reply, worrying at your bottom lip as you send it.

[00:25 am] You: i know the fuck he texted me too

[00:25 am] You: how are you feeling?

Yoongi doesn’t reply right away, and you decide not to reply to Hoseok either, instead stuffing your phone back in your back pocket before washing your hands. You return to the kitchen after, where everyone’s been waiting for you to play your turn in the game of Ticket to Ride you’ve started at midnight.

You can’t believe Hoseok texted you. It feels like a ghost coming back to haunt you, reminding you that you’d been friends with benefits, albeit on a break, this time last year. Perhaps that is why Hoseok chose to text you too - you meant something to him to a certain extent.

“Everything okay?” Jungkook asks as you frown, trying to remember what it is you wanted to do in the game.

You blink once, meeting his gaze. “Yeah.” You nod, repeating the word, and then you pick up two green wagon cards.

Jungkook lets it slide, focusing on the game too, and you all but forget about Hoseok’s text when your mother gives you another eggnog drink. You finish the game a little while later - Ariane winning grandiosely - and then you all head to bed after wishing each other a last Merry Christmas.

Jungkook plops down on your childhood bed as you walk into your room, and you close the door, leaning against it as you smile fondly. He props his chin on his hands, looking at you. 

“Tonight was fun,” he says.

You nod, smile growing wider. “It really was. But wait until tomorrow, that’s where all the fun is.”

Indeed, you’re going to visit your grandparents’ house tomorrow evening, along with all of your uncles and aunts and cousins.  It’s tradition every year, and it’s the first time you’re bringing someone. You’d be a little anxious, if not for the fact that you know your grandmother is already obsessed with Jungkook from everything your mother told her.

“I can’t wait,” Jungkook says, and the soft curve of his lips tells you he means it.

You cross the distance between you, lying down on the bed next to him. Jungkook shifts, opening his arms for you to slide into his embrace, and he holds you tight, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

“I mostly can’t wait to give you your gift tomorrow morning,” he adds, his mouth moving against you. He pulls away, rubbing his face to take out from his mouth the hair he clearly almost swallowed from talking against your head. “You’ll be so happy.”

“You really didn’t need to give me a gift,” you say.

“You think I haven’t noticed the suspiciously large box with my name on it under the Christmas tree?”

You shrug. “Maybe it’s from Taehyung.”

“It’s written from peach.”

You snort, laughing against his chest. “And what about it?”

“You’re allowed to get me a gift but I can’t get you one?”

You nod forcefully. “Yeah. You already got me that dress anyway.”

He laughs, rolling on his back. He pulls you with him until you’re lying next to him with your head on his chest. “That was almost a year ago, it doesn’t count.”

“It does,” you mumble.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling deeply in his chest. “You’re adorable, I love you.” He pecks the top of your head again. “Besides, what did you get me?”

“What did you get me?” you ask, gaze narrowed as you look up at him.

His next peck lands on your forehead. “Not telling you.”

“Well then, I’m not telling you either,” you smugly reply.

He laughs, tightening his hold around you. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Your heart stops in your chest, and then it starts again on a wilder beat you hear echoed behind his ribcage.

“I love you too, Kook.”

“Luckiest man alive,” he whispers, and it’s rhetorical, not asking for a reply. 

All you do is grin as you start tracing idle shapes on his stomach. You fall silent - the kind of comfortable silence you can only share with him - up until you remember Hoseok’s text. It makes you prop yourself up on an elbow, and you meet Jungkook’s gaze.

“You’ll never guess who texted me earlier.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Who did?” 

“Hobi,” you reveal.

Jungkook’s gaze widens. “The guy you used to fuck?”

You roll your eyes, pinching his side. “Yes. But mostly Yoongi’s… ex?”

“You did use to fuck though, I heard you guys.”

“Oh my God, Kook.”

He offers you a shit-eating grin. “What?”

“You’re annoying.”

He pulls you on top of him until you’re straddling him. “But you love me.”

You narrow your eyes, glaring at him. “But you’re annoying.”

His hands, now on your hips, tighten slightly, and your brain chooses this instant to zero in on the spot.

“Do you know how much it drove me crazy?” he says, and his voice is suddenly low, husky, shooting warmth right to your core. “I fucking wanted to beat his ass.”

You cock an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side as a smirk appears on your lips. “Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah.” He forces you to circle your hips, and you’re not surprised to find him already getting hard. “I’d imagine it was me instead.” It’s Jungkook’s turn to smirk, and he sits up to kiss you, his tongue pushing into your mouth once before he lies back down. “And then when I was fucking Shelly and you were touching yourself?”

You’re turning molten, like you’re metal melting in a forge. “Yeah?”

“That’s when I knew that whatever I’d promised to Tae didn’t matter anymore.” He grinds into you. “I needed to have you, one way or another.”

You crash your lips on his so hard you taste blood. He’s quick to slide his hands under your shirt, and he fumbles with the fabric until you part to allow him to take it off your body. You’re only wearing a red bralette you bought before finals, and Jungkook’s gaze darkens at the sight.

“Shit peach, you’re always so fucking hot.”

“One way or another, you say?” you repeat what he said earlier.

He looks confused for a heartbeat, and then he nods. “Yeah. I was into you already then, as you know, but damn every time I touched myself all I could think about was you.”

“Outrageous,” you tease as you circle your hips once more.

He grunts softly. “Oh, peach, don’t pretend you weren’t thinking of me too.”

You lean forward, sucking on his lower lip, your tongue then flicking at his piercings. “Oh, you know I was thinking about you,” you say against his mouth.

You move down enough to find his neck, your teeth teasing the skin before you suck on it, yet you refrain from leaving a mark.

You don’t want your mother asking questions tomorrow.

Jungkook grunts as you lick at the spot, and then move back up to nibble at his jaw. His large hands on your waist caress up your flanks until he reaches your breasts that he shamelessly cups, his fingers immediately searching for your nipples. He pinches them, hard enough to hurt, and you moan out loud, hiding your face in his neck.

“Careful, peach,” Jungkook warns. “We wouldn’t want your family hearing us.”

You bite at his neck again and he hisses. “What did you just say?”

“Fuck,” he groans, and it sounds like a growl. “Now I want to fucking ruin you.”

You straighten, your hands landing flat on his chest to hold him down. “Why don’t you let me have my fun tonight?”

His dark gaze surveys you carefully as you climb down his body until you’re sitting on his legs. You grip his thighs and then slide your hands up to his clothed erection. You run a hand along it and then move up to push his shirt up, revealing the strong muscles of his abdomen. You graze them with your nails, and Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut as your other hand returns to his dick.

“How should I please you tonight?” you ask.

You lean forward and, unable to resist, you suck a hickey on the spot right above the hem of his pants. Jungkook instinctively bucks his hips in response, and you smirk as you sit back on your heels again.

“Someone’s impatient,” you tease.

“Peach…” he warns.

“Be nice,” you say. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

He takes a sharp breath, and then nods curtly. You bite at your lower lip, a smirk teasing the corner of your lips.

“Good boy.”

He groans, but then you’re ridding him of his pants and boxers, and his dick springs free, slapping his abs. He looks just as pretty as he always does, the large vein running up his dick begging to be licked. You don’t even resist - you immediately bend down, tracing it with your tongue up to his tip, which you circle once before pulling away just enough to grab the base of his dick.

You stroke him slowly, meeting his gaze. His cheeks are flushed with arousal, eyes shining with lust and desire, all of it for you. You feel powerful - you have him wrapped around your finger, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s with that thought that you finally take him in your mouth, not breaking eye contact. He clenches his jaw to hold a moan in, and you take him as deep as you can, your eyes watering when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath.

You pull almost all the way out, hollowing your cheeks as you suck on his tip, teasing his frenulum with your tongue. His dick twitches, but you’re holding him tight, keeping him in place.

You get to work, bobbing up and down, drooling all over him. You use your drool as natural lube so that you can jerk him off in time with your motions, and Jungkook grows infinitely hard in your mouth, so much so that you wouldn’t be surprised if he came.

You wouldn’t mind - he always tastes good for you, and the thought of it is making you soak through your panties to the point you think your pants might even be affected. But then again, Jungkook always makes you so wet.

No one’s ever fucked you as good as him after all.

You take him all the way in, and Jungkook thrusts up, grunting as you moan around him. His hands are in your hair, and he’s been guiding your movements, though always allowing you to pull away to breathe when you need it.

So when you decide to pull away so that you can suck on his balls, he lets you do it. You reward him by jerking him off quickly, your grip tight on his dick just the way you know he likes, and he fists at the sheets of your bed, fucking into your hand.

Right before you think he’s about to come, Jungkook pulls you away. He’s panting heavily, and you barely have time to breathe before he flips you on your back, climbing on top of you so that he can kiss you. 

The kiss is ravishing, languid, all tongues and saliva and his teeth digging into your bottom lip. You barely can contain your moans when he drives your legs apart with a knee he then presses on your clothed core, and you can’t help but grind on his leg, searching for much-needed friction.

Jungkook leaves your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck, and then on your clavicle. He sucks a purple mark underneath it, and you arch your back in his touch as he cups your breasts again, massaging them.

“Peach,” he says as he’s looking at your necklace where it lies between your breasts. “You’re so perfect.”

And then he’s pushing your bralette up enough to have access to your nipples. His mouth closes around one while he pinches the other between his thumb and index, and you lose your hand in his jet-black strands, pulling on his hair just a little by reflex.

His tongue circles your nipple, and then he licks at it twice. It hardens in his mouth as you hold your moans in, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he shifts to your other nipple, offering it the same treatment.

“Take this off,” you breathe, pulling at the fabric of his shirt.

Jungkook raises his head, meeting your gaze. His lips are glistening with his saliva, and he looks so devilish you think you’d be able to come just like that.

“Take it off for me,” he teases.

You roll your eyes despite your lips curving in a smile, and you pull his shirt off, throwing it on the floor. You rake your nails on his back - lightly, not hard enough to leave a mark - when he returns to your nipples, devouring your breasts like a man starved.

“I fucking love every part of you, you know that right?” he says when he pulls away.

You nod, but he’s already going down your body, reaching for your pants. He takes them off, and to your surprise, he takes your panties off too, leaving you naked and gleaming when he pushes your thighs apart to look at you properly.

“So pretty…” he praises.

You want to tell him to fuck you, that you don’t even need foreplay right now - you’ve been feeling your juices dripping out of your pussy for a while - but he doesn’t leave you time to speak, immediately diving in, lapping a large stripe from your entrance up to your clit. He swirls his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves, and you put your hand over your mouth to muffle your moan.

“Silence, peach,” he reminds you, and then he circles your clit again. “I really don’t want your mother to look at me differently tomorrow morning.”

You don’t have anything left in your brain to say that she wouldn’t care, and maybe that’s good - you’re pretty sure she would, as a matter of fact, care.

“Sorry,” you apologize.

Jungkook shoots you a quick glance, and he pecks the inside of your thigh lovingly, miles away from the lust transpiring from this moment. “I love you,” he breathes against your skin, and then he’s back on your pussy.

He eats you out like he’s a demon come from hell, and soon enough he pushes two fingers inside of you, fighting against your tightening muscles. You take a deep breath to relax, and a few seconds later he arches his fingers, rubbing them on the most sensitive spot inside of you. It makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your mouth falls open on a silent moan as he starts fingering you, quick and hard, always rubbing your g-spot. He times his fingers with his tongue, and it’s no wonder he’s dragging you towards an orgasm at eighty miles per hour.

It’s no wonder it hits you like a slap to the face when he sucks on your clit hard, and your thighs close around his face as your back arches off the bed, your climax hitting so hard you feel like you’re swimming in the night sky, amongst stars and galaxies and nebulas.

You’re shaking, thighs trembling, as he milks your orgasm out for so long you think you’ll die, but eventually his fingers leave your pulsing walls, and he licks them clean. You watch him, your eyelids heavy with the ecstasy invading your bloodstream, and you feel fucked out, your mind like cotton as he positions himself between your legs.

“Have you had enough?” he asks, teasing your entrance with his cock. “Or do you want me to fuck you?”

You reach for him, fingers grazing his chest and abs. “Shit, Kook.”

He grins wickedly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you repeat. You chuckle lightly, and then you glance around. “I do want you to fuck me,” you whisper, “but my bed creaks a hell of a lot.”

Jungkook shrugs, picking you up in one swift motion that makes your mind swim even more. The room spins around you as Jungkook carries you off the bed, and then he sits you on the floor. He grabs a bunch of pillows, arranging them in a makeshift bed on the floor, and then he motions at it, a proud smile on his lips.

“Voilà,” he says.

You snort. “You’ll fuck me on this?”

He smirks, picking you up to lie you down on the pillows. It’s a little unsteady, but when he positions himself between your legs again, you forget all about it.

Even more so as he rubs his dick on your clit, and meteorites erupt in front of your eyes.

“Yeah I will,” he says. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

You gulp, your throat suddenly dry with arousal, and you nod your head. “Fuck me, Kook.”

He doesn’t need more to push in, and he sheathes all of himself inside of you. Or at least all that fits, and he’s quick to put a hand over your mouth to keep you from moaning. You bite at his palm, and he startles, moving his hand away.

“That was mean,” he says, a pout appearing on his swollen lips.

Fuck, you love him so bad.

“Sorry,” you apologize.

He narrows his gaze, bending down to steal a quick, gentle kiss on your lips. “No you’re not,” he says.

“I’m not,” you agree.

He pulls almost all the way out, leaving just an inch of him in. “And for that reason, I’ll fuck you until all you remember is my name.”

He pushes all the way in again, and you bite your lip to refrain from crying his name out. It becomes much harder when he starts pounding into you, and soon your room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, and of the squelching your pussy makes every time he fucks into you. It’s clearly loud enough for everyone in the apartment to hear, but faint music is coming from Taehyung’s room, and you know your mother sleeps with foam earplugs in.

You can only hope they don’t hear you when you moan Jungkook’s name. He gently rests his hand against your mouth again then, though he’s quick to push a finger in instead. You suck on it, teasing the pad with your tongue, and Jungkook grunts as he jack-hammers you, so much so you fall off the makeshift bed.

You both don’t care - you don’t even think Jungkook realizes. He’s too busy rearranging your gut, and you’re too busy trying to not moan like you want to do. Jungkook keeps at it for a while, strands of hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, but his pace remains unforgiving, a reminder that he has a solid cardio from all the hours he spends at the gym.

Eventually, Jungkook gets bored of the position, and he pulls out. You get a glimpse of his wet dick before he flips you on your stomach, and he’s quick to fuck into you again, the new angle so good you feel like you’re floating somewhere between your body and the ceiling.

His forearm is next to your head, and you hold onto his wrist as he pounds into you. You know he’s nearing his high when his motions grow unfocused, slower, and soon he bends down, grunting against the side of your face as he releases his load deep inside of you, painting you white.

You hold onto him as he comes, circling your hips to prolong his pleasure, up until he stops you with a hand on your waist. He pecks the side of your face, and you turn your head to be able to kiss him properly. It tastes like the sweat that’s collected on his upper lip, but you don’t care. Not when it’s his sweat, and you are so obsessed with him you wish you were under his skin.

“Fuck,” he grunts when he pulls away from the kiss. 

He pecks your cheek again and then straightens to search for something to clean you up with. He reaches for the tissues on the night table, and he takes a bunch of them that he puts against you before he even pulls out.

You both manage to avoid making a mess, and Jungkook lets you go clean up first. You put on his shirt, as it’s long enough to be a dress on you, and then you head to the bathroom, where you take a quick shower. Jungkook goes next, kissing you deeply before leaving your room, and you wait for him under the covers of your bed, your heart still beating wildly from the sex.

As it always does when it comes to sex with Jungkook.

Jungkook comes back about five minutes later, and he slides under the covers with you as you’re on your phone, looking at the conversation with Yoongi.

He still hasn’t replied, and though that worries you, you know he’s probably just busy with his own Christmas celebration.

“Everything okay?” Jungkook asks as he molds himself to your back, an arm wrapping around your waist.

You turn on your back, going in for a soft kiss that settles your heartbeat in your chest. 

“Yes,” you reassure him. 

You glance at your phone again and then switch to the conversation with Hoseok. “I don’t know what I should say.”

Jungkook blinks a few times like he needs it to focus on your screen, and then he reads Hoseok’s message. “I mean…” he lets out. “He seems genuine.”

“I know, but it’s weird no?”

Jungkook purses his lips. “Why?”

“Because I’m with you now,” you explain.

His eyes widen. “Oh, is that because of what I said earlier?”

You nod, worrying at some dry skin on your lower lip.

“Oh, peach,” he says, and he pecks your forehead. “I really don’t mind if you want to reply. I was only teasing earlier.”

You cock an eyebrow, not entirely believing him. He smiles sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders.

“Were you?”

“Well…” he trails off, turning on his back as he looks up at the ceiling. “I was jealous, yes. But as you said, he mostly is Yoongi’s ex. What you guys had hasn’t mattered for a really long time.”

He’s right. He’s entirely right, and it reassures you, enough so that you don’t feel guilty for replying to Hoseok, right before you decide to turn off your phone for the night.

[2:37 am] You: hey merry christmas! no worries:)

You put your phone away, and then you turn to face Jungkook, wrapping your arm around his dainty waist as he wraps his around you, one of his biceps a perfect pillow for your head. You sigh in contentment, knowing that you are right where you’re supposed to be in the world - by Jungkook’s side. 

Home, wherever he is.

You fall asleep with love in your heart, shining bright on you despite the dark, winter night outside.  

Monday, December 30th

The restaurant is crowded, lively chatter and clinking utensils filling the atmosphere with the type of life only the holidays can provide. Taehyung sits at the head of the table, a bright smile on his lips as your mother explains to Ariane and Jungkook how you come to this restaurant each year when there’s a special occasion.

By that, she means your and Taehyung’s birthdays, as you spend hers on the camping trip.

“We started when you were what?” your mother says, looking at Taehyung. “Fourteen?”

“Thirteen,” he answers. “We came with a bunch of friends from middle school, and Y/n was complaining the whole time.”

“I was not,” you say, pouting slightly. “You were just ignoring me the whole time because I wasn’t cool enough.”

“You really weren’t.” Taehyung’s teasing remark earns him a slap on the arm from your mother, and Ariane telling him to shut up. “What! She was just obsessed with One Direction, it was annoying.”

“And what about it?” Ariane says. “One Direction was a good group!”

Horror inches into Taehyung’s gaze. “Not you too.”

Ariane rolls her eyes, but then the waitress stops by your table, taking everyone’s order. An easy conversation follows, your mother telling you about interesting cases she saw at the ER over the last few months. Jungkook looks appalled when she mentions certain of them, his eyes about to bulge out of his head.

“You’re good?” you let out, patting his thigh reassuringly. 

“We’re supposed to eat after she’s told us all of that?” he asks, his widened gaze sliding to you.

You snort. “Yes, we are.”

He sits back in his chair, folding his arms on his chest. “Damn.” You just laugh even more, and he looks at you again. “It’s not funny!”

“It is,” you insist. “You’re adorable.”

He glares at you, though his eyes are gleaming with too much amusement for you to believe he means it. “So are you.”

“Right right,” you say, at the same time as Taehyung fake-gags. 

“You guys are disgusting,” your brother says. 

“And you think you’re better?” your mother intervenes. “You all should listen to him when he calls me and gushes about Ariane.”

Taehyung flushes red as Ariane leans towards your mother. “Oh? What does he say?”

“Namely that he thinks you’re the love of his life, and that he wants to marry…”

“Stop!” Taehyung interjects. “Fuck, mom, this is not necessary.”

He’s so red he looks like he might pass out, and you can’t help but laugh at his expense. “Don’t worry, Ari, he’s always been a hopeless romantic.”

“I’m not!”

Ariane laughs, and she rubs his back. “You are. I love that about you.”

Taehyung’s distressed features turn into a soft smile, and you roll your eyes teasingly. 

The rest of the dinner goes well, all of you eating your fill. Jungkook finishes your dish when you declare yourself defeated, and you speak with your brother without any animosity for the first time in months.

It’s relieving, far more than you would admit it. Or perhaps it’s because he’s invited you to the party one of his childhood friends is hosting, which he never did before. You know it’s because Jungkook is his closest friend now, but you still appreciate the invitation, and the party that comes with it.

Taehyung’s always partied the hardest surrounded by his friends, and tonight is no different. It’s a night of drinking and revelry and bright smiles, loud music to accompany the chatter and drinking games and everything that makes a party a good party. There’s a hot tub, and you and Jungkook spend far too long in it accompanied by Ariane, Taehyung and two of his other friends, taking turns rolling in the snow before jumping back into the hot tub.

The stars shine on and on above you all, and though it’s freezing outside you think they might allow you a piece of summer in the winter night.

You head home before Taehyung, walking hand in hand with Jungkook. You’re both tipsy, even maybe a little drunk, yet it doesn’t deter you. Not when the night is beautiful, and you have Jungkook next to you.

“I still can’t believe you got me that frame,” Jungkook says as he notices you looking up at the stars, your eyes going over the Orion constellation.

Indeed, you got him a star map of Valentine’s Day last year for Christmas. It’s beautiful, and Jungkook grew teary-eyed when you gave it to him, telling him that it was a map of the night you’d fallen in love. He promised he’d hang it in his room the second you returned to your apartment, and then he sheepishly gave you your gift.

Your reaction to his gift was… much less wholesome than his. You were outraged, telling him that he was crazy to spend so much money on you, and Jungkook just shrugged his shoulders, telling you you deserved it.

You still think he’s crazy. But over the last few days, he’s slowly convinced you that it’s going to be fun, that you truly do deserve the gift…

And who would say no to a trip to Bora Bora?

“I’m sorry,” you let out. “You fucking bought first-class plane tickets to go to Bora Bora. My gift looks like nothing compared to yours.”

“It’s not nothing!” Jungkook insists. “It’s the most sentimental gift I’ve ever received.” He smiles at you, his big doe eyes swimming with love for you. “It’ll forever be my favourite gift.”

You can’t help the smile that curves your lips upwards as your heart warms in your chest. “You deserve it,” you say, and you mean it.

Jungkook deserves every proof that people do love him. That his parents don’t know shit when it comes to him - you’ll try your best to shower him with all of the love your heart holds, every day of your life with him.

“And you deserve the trip,” Jungkook says. “You always work so hard in college, I just want you to relax for a while.”

“With you,” you say, eyes glinting with mischief. 

“Obviously.”

He pulls you in, interrupting your walk, and he kisses your forehead softly. Your heart grows even warmer, so much so that you think flowers are blooming in your soul, like a garden bursting into life.

You get home together with him, your mother seemingly fast asleep in her room from the soft snores that come from behind her door. You make your way to your room, and Jungkook plugs in your old fairy lights, even though they’re so dim now you barely can make out anything.

“Thank you,” Jungkook says as he sits on your bed.

You sit next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. “What for?”

“For everything,” he replies, and he wraps his arms around you to pull you into his chest. “Getting to love you is the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“Oh, Jungkook…” you trail off, looking up to see the silver lining his gaze.

“I love you more every day, peach,” he whispers. “It’s… it’s a gift.”

You cup his cheek, tilting your head backwards as you pull him down. The kiss is soft, gentle. The kiss is everything that makes Jungkook Jungkook, and you you. It’s the months of struggle that led to so much beauty, it’s the knowledge that, wherever you’ll go in this life, he’ll be by your side.

It’s the knowledge that he’s the one for you, and you’re the one for him.

When you pull away from the kiss, what seems like an eternity later, Jungkook pulls out his phone from his pocket. You watch him curiously as the device lights up his features, and a second later, your room fills with the first chord of Chasing Cars.

Of your song.

“Cuddle?” Jungkook asks.

You can’t say no to those big, doe eyes, and you lie down with him, your head on his chest.

“You know,” Jungkook says when the first chorus starts. “Ever since you showed me this song, it’s been my favourite.” He pauses, pecks the top of your head. “Not that I didn’t know it before. But it makes me think of you now.”

Just like it makes you think of him.

“It does?” you let out.

You feel him nod more than you see him. “When I marry you, I want it to be the song we dance to.”

Your gaze widens, and you prop yourself up on an elbow so that you can look at him. And despite the dim light in your room, despite the blurriness in your gaze from the happy tears he summoned, his beauty shines for you. So bright, a proof that he’s the Sun in your life.

He’s the astral body you were meant to orbit.

“When you marry me?”

His arm tightens around you. “Yes, when I marry you.”

You smile, brighter than a summer day. “You’ll be my husband.”

“And you’ll be my wife.”

You laugh, a crystal clear sound that heals whatever wounds were left from the months apart. From that night Taehyung punched him and kicked him out. From every time you thought that your timing didn’t align and that maybe you weren’t meant to be in this universe.

But you are. You’ve always been meant to be, haven’t you?

“Let’s start by calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend, shall we?”

He pouts. “M’kay, then. Girlfriend.”

Another laugh tumbles from your lips, and you put your head back on his shoulder. He runs a soothing hand on your back, while you trace random shapes on his chest, and you think this is it.

This is a moment that will be forever engraved in your memory, to look back on whenever you have a bad day. A first moment - though it’s hardly the first - of a long line of events that will make up the story of you and Jeon Jungkook.

The song reaches its last chorus, and your heart, beating in sync with Jungkook’s, reaches the nirvana of you and him.

If I lay here 

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me, and just forget the world?

And you think, perhaps your story was already written in between the lines of your favourite song - a story of resilient love, and of promises of forever. Perhaps it was written between the first verse and the chorus, or perhaps it was written in the melody. It’s hard to tell - you just know it’s become a law of your universe. 

Now, you’ll lie with Jungkook, and maybe you’ll even forget the world. It’ll just be him, forever.

And you’ll spend the rest of your life chasing cars around his head.

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I am so emotional please do not touch me :') I can't believe this story is over. I hope you guys loved the ride - let me know what you think about this last chapter <3

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