The Fifth Pt. 2 - Tumblr Posts
The Fifth: Part 2 (Jungkook x OC)
Summary: After a horrible first date, Jungkook is determined to redeem himself with a second. You're just as determined not to give in, until you realise you might just.
Pairing: Jungkook x OC
Genre: Fluff, teasing, banter, idiots to lovers
Word count: 12.6 K
Warnings: Minor injuries, Jungkook in a leather jacket
Part 2 of 2 (Part 1)
Listen to: "whistle for the choir" by the fratellis
jungkook masterlist | main masterlist
Ping.
You close your eyes even tighter, groaning into the pillow when your phone pings again. It’s been a long few days; the promotion feels like it's in your grasp, just a few weeks away from becoming official. Barring any complications. Extra credit means extra work and less sleep, making tonight the first night in a long time that you’ve been able to go to bed by midnight.
When your phone pings a third time, you grudgingly open your eyes, the screen on the bedside table the only source of light in the otherwise dark room. Silently cursing whoever it is, you see a message from Jeon Jungkook on your lockscreen. You’re tired, but you find yourself opening it anyway to see three messages, all sent within a span of a minute.
JK [00:08]
I remembered a second thing.
JK [00:08]
You like Harry Styles.
JK [00:09]
You were singing along to my playlist in the car.
You frown, immediately thinking back to that night before replying.
Me [00:10]
What are you talking about?
JK [00:10]
You were singing along to Adore You. It was soft but you definitely were.
Me [00:11]
The music must have been echoing in the car.
JK [00:11]
Forgive me but your voice sounds nothing like Harry’s.
You wince, chewing on your bottom lip. It’s not completely unbelievable.
Me [00:12]
Um, I really don’t think I was singing.
JK [00:12]
You were. I distinctly remember because I was contemplating telling you to knock it off, but you actually sounded pretty good.
Me [00:13]
Oh.
Me [00:13]
That’s quite a compliment from you, I guess.
JK [00:14]
You’re welcome. And that’s two.
You roll your eyes, flipping onto your stomach to rest in a more comfortable position, gazing at your screen.
Me [00:15]
You remembered this random detail in the middle of the night?
JK [00:15]
It’s barely midnight. I just had my second dinner.
Me [00:15]
I thought you were on a diet.
JK [00:16]
Sigh. I am but I also spent two hours in the gym and eight hours in the dance studio so I’m allowing myself a cup of ramen.
Me [00:16]
Good kid.
JK [00:16]
Wait, did I wake you up?
Me [00:16]
Almost.
JK [00:16]
Huh. Already?
Me [00:17]
Yes. I need to make up for a week’s worth of sleep and still be up by seven.
JK [00:17]
I thought you people started work at nine. Do you take two hours to get ready?
Me [00:17]
No, but I need to make a detour to this coffee shop before work.
JK [00:18]
Doesn’t Hybe have coffee machines everywhere?
Me [00:18]
Yes, but the one on our floor’s been broken for ages. And I need the caffeine.
JK [00:18]
Alright then. I’ll let you sleep.
Me [00:18]
That’s very big of you.
JK [00:19]
Haha. Just wanted to remind you - two down, three to go. Goodnight :)
You sigh and lock your phone, rolling on your back to go to sleep. You picture the shit-eating grin he’s sure to have on his face right now, thrilled at remembering two things from the horrendous date you’d both been on. Ever since you made it clear to him that you’d forgiven him and weren’t mad at him anymore, his entire demeanour changed from wide-eyed and apologetic to downright mischievous and cocky.
You hadn’t quite expected Jungkook to take this challenge so seriously; to be honest, you’d only created it to discourage him. You were sure he remembered next to nothing, mostly because due to the lack of response, you’d eventually stopped talking as well. The fact of the matter was that there wasn’t a lot of material to begin with - or so you’d thought.
Somehow, a week after the launch party, he’d texted you out of the blue during a working lunch, where you, Seulgi and three other people were sitting on the floor of a conference room, working towards a deadline that took precedence over everything else, including food.
“Is that Sooya?” Seulgi asked immediately when your phone pinged. “She literally texted you five minutes ago! Tell your manager we’re doing it as fast as we can! Jesus.”
“No, hang on,” you muttered, frowning at your phone where it was on the table. From where you were sitting, you could only make out the notification and the length of the sender’s name - too short to be Kim Sooya’s. Reaching up, you retrieved it to find a message from someone you genuinely didn’t think you’d hear from again.
JK [13:40]
You don’t like seafood. Right?
You squinted. You’d saved his contact with just his initials seven months ago, finding it strange that Jeon Jungkook was messaging you at all. You weren’t a BTS fan by any stretch of the imagination; you knew them, you didn’t dislike them and if a popular song played at a club, you probably knew the words. But even you knew their maknae and moreover, you knew his fanbase. In an effort to keep the lowest profile possible, you’d gone so far as to mask his name in your phone as much as possible without feeling like a criminal.
Me [13:43]
Is this an accidental text?
He replied immediately.
JK [13:43]
No. You, Cheon Lia, don’t like seafood. Am I right?
It was true, unfortunately, but you could place neither the context nor the expected response.
Me [13:44]
Why do you think that?
JK [13:44]
Because on our date, I ordered the fish and you made a face. So you probably don’t like seafood.
Me [13:45]
Is this about the five things I dared you to remember from that night?
JK [13:45]
Yes. And this is one.
“What does she want?”
Your head whipped up to see Seulgi, eyes wide and questioning. “Oh, it’s - it’s not Sooya. Just… my mom.” You wait until she processes this and turns back to her laptop before turning back to your phone.
Me [13:46]
Alright. This is one. Good job, Jeon. I think.
JK [13:46]
Four more to go. Have a good day :)
That was four days ago. In the flurry of endless work, most of which is for BTS’s new comeback, you’ve been too busy to think about it and he’s presumably too busy with said comeback to do the same. Still, the fact that he’s texted you in the middle of the night implies that he hasn’t forgotten about your challenge - and you find you’re pleasantly surprised at how much he remembers.
You’re still thinking about it the next morning when you reach Hybe, along with wondering how much you might have inadvertently revealed on your date and how likely he is to come up with three more details. You’d only promised to consider a second date; you could still say no. You just hadn’t had the faith that he’d even come up with one thing, but the fact that he has two makes you start wondering if you’ll actually have to follow through on your promise.
“Someone out there likes you.” Seulgi greets you with a sing-songy remark, giving you a meaningful look as she brushes past you to go to her desk.
You almost choke again. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry. I should say someone up there likes you,” she amends. She juts her chin towards something behind you. “They fixed the coffee machine.”
“What?” you gasp, turning around hurrying towards the beautiful, ancient machine that’s been here, in this floor of the Hybe building for nearly as long as you have and run your hands down its side, feeling the familiar heat. “I didn’t even have time to stop for coffee on the way! Oh, sweet thing, your heavenly body never ceases to amaze -”
“They’ve put out coffee, too,” interrupts Seulgi who, ever since the summer launch party, is remarkably less stressed. “I think you may have actually gotten someone other than you interested in our daily caffeine intake,” she comments, reaching for her usual green tea.
You peer into the plastic boxes and let out another low breath, hardly daring to believe it. Reaching out for a sachet, you gasp. “They gave us Caffeta sachets,” you breathe, feeling misty. “I didn’t think anyone even knew this brand. I can’t believe it.”
Seulgi raises her eyebrows. “I can. This is literally the first time I’ve ever heard of it.”
“It’s the best,” you declare. “They’re basically like teabags - do you know what caffeine addicts have to do to get good coffee? The process and the paraphernalia, not to mention the equipment -”
“Maybe they’re a new sponsor for Hybe or something,” says Seulgi thoughtfully, stirring her tea. She looks up to see you giving her a look. “What? I’ve never heard you mention this brand either.”
“I literally have four sachets in my bag at all times for emergencies -”
“Lia? Can I see you for a moment?”
You turn to see Sooya, your manager, gesture to you from inside her glass office and your heart sinks. It should be illegal for work to be presented to an employee before they’ve had their morning coffee, you think glumly as you follow her inside. She turns to you, looking the very picture of a corporate slave (pristine black pencil skirt, crisp pale pink blouse, hair long and pony-tailed, not a strand out of place, skin looking radiant) and presses a single key on her laptop.
“I’ve just sent you a file,” she says, “and it has everything about a new band Hybe’s launching this fall. They want to see a digital marketing plan by next week.”
You wait for her to continue but when she doesn’t, you frown. “Wow, don’t go overboard on the detailing,” you joke, chuckling nervously. When all she does is crack a forced yet sympathetic smile, your own fades. “Wait… is that it?” At her nod, you scoff shakily. “This - this is a joke, right?” You fumble with your phone to open the email she’s just sent you, scanning the rather scant file attached. “They want a marketing plan,” you repeat, “for this?”
“Well, yes.”
“This tells us nothing, though.” You look down at your phone again anxiously. “I mean - is it even a boy group or a girl group?”
“Girl group. But -”
“What’s their name? How many members?”
“They don’t know. Or they haven’t come up with one.” When you make a noise that’s something between a scoff and a whimper, Sooya sighs. “We’ll have to show them options. They want this group to be big overseas so they’re heavily relying on digital marketing. Look, I know this is a ridiculous ask,” she admits. “They’ve genuinely given us nothing - but apparently SM is coming out with another group in the winter so they want to launch this group before that one so they’re really pushing for a strategy. You can take Seulgi’s help if you need,” she suggests.
You try not to stare at her too accusingly. “She’s not in digital. I’ll… I’ll check with Eunji, maybe,” you mutter, looking down forlornly at your phone. “Did you say they need this next week?”
“Tuesday. Which gives you… six whole days,” she says, conveniently counting the weekend as well. “It’ll be great for your promotion,” she says after a moment and you know you’ve lost.
When you trudge out of her office, you see Seulgi’s sympathetic expression.
“You knew,” you grumble, falling into the chair beside her.
She clicks her tongue and pats your shoulder. “At least now we know why they sprung for the good coffee.”
---
It’s unlikely, but it almost seems as though Seulgi is onto something, for you consume possibly ninety percent of all the coffee provided on your floor over the next few days. You reach the office every day by eight since the creative types start their day early and you don’t manage to leave until ten pm at the very least, after which you reach home, shower, inhale some food if you can and get back to work until you fall asleep on your bed, your laptop still open next to you.
The real clincher comes on the weekend when, due to the misread of a moodboard, you’re compelled to go into the office on a Saturday. The office is open, of course, for the artists and management basically live here, but as far as the corporate employees are concerned, you’re the only one. The floor is eerily empty when you reach at half past four in the afternoon; even the lights haven’t been switched on, making it look like a workplace thriller just waiting to happen.
You locate the moodboard in the same conference room where it was left yesterday. Taking a picture of it from every angle possible, you send it to the rest of the two-member team you’ve managed to scrounge for this project before sitting in an empty chair, suddenly exhausted. It’s beyond strange being here on a weekend, especially in casual clothes. You’d given yourself a twenty minute break to take a shower and even that your team wouldn’t let you have that in peace. One frantic phone call later, you were pulling on an old, grey long-sleeved t-shirt and ancient jeans, grabbing a hoodie and being out the door while your hair still dripped.
You contemplate working from the office for the rest of the day, reasoning that it’s still less depressing than working in your room on a weekend while your roommate parties with a bunch of other friends, when your phone pings.
JK [16:34]
You have a brother. That’s three.
Your stomach does a backflip, probably because Jungkook’s the first person to talk to you today about something that isn’t work.
Me [16:34]
I never mentioned my brother. I’m sure of it.
JK [16:34]
Pretty sure you did. I don’t remember when but I think he’s younger?
Me [16:35]
Do you remember anything else about that conversation?
JK [16:35]
Um
JK [16:36]
This is hard.
JK [16:36]
But I’m picturing a birthday party?
You frown, genuinely having no idea what he’s talking about. You don’t talk much about your brother - not for any particular reason, but you aren’t famously in touch or anything. You definitely haven’t mentioned him on a first date.
Me [16:37]
I didn’t mention my brother.
JK [16:37]
Then how do I know he’s younger than you?
Me [16:37]
You saw the picture on my board at my desk. It’s of me and Seoyeon at his birthday party.
JK [16:38]
… ohhh, yeah, you’re right. Damn it.
Me [16:38]
Yep. Valiant effort, though.
Jungkook sends you a selfie where he’s standing before a microphone with gigantic headphones on, glaring into the camera in the way that makes him look like a rodent in a Pixar animation. You lock your phone, feeling slightly lighter than before before switching on one of the office computers and logging into your work account, resigning yourself to work over the next few hours. You wallow in self-pity, picturing your promotion as the light at the end of the tunnel as you make the best of the Caffeta sachets left out.
The weather outside is spectacular; it’s cool and breezy, leaves blowing lazily in the early evening and golden sun while you slave away in an unnaturally air conditioned building, staring at a screen that makes your eyes hurt. When the sun is about to set, you hear the sounds and look outside to see rain: beautiful, picturesque rain that makes you want to hurl the printer next to you at a window just so you can feel some of it.
When you’re done - not done with work, but done - you grab your hoodie and start heading out, wondering if you can join in at your roommate’s party and drink yourself to sleep. You’re being dramatic, you know that, but, you reason, only because the situation calls for it. Reaching the lobby of the building, however, you halt.
The rain, the beautiful rain that legends write songs about, is suddenly a lot more real. Now that it’s fully dark (half past ten, you confirm), all you see is dim streetlamps reflecting off puddles, cars splashing you as you walk home - obviously, since you failed to bring your deadbeat car that would take longer to start than it would take you to walk to Hybe - and wet socks by the time you reach home.
Your stomach growls and you groan softly, wondering briefly if you should just risk it and run home. You’ll be frozen to the bone by then, sure, but at least you’ll be out of this depressing office. Your roommate has been drinking since before you left the house, so that’s not an option anyway, which leaves no one to give you a lift either.
At that thought, something stirs in your memory. You pull out your phone and stare at it before slowly going back to your WhatsApp chat - Jungkook’s chat.
Me [22:12]
Hey.
You wait for the double-tick, the thought suddenly occurring to you that even if it turns out that he is miraculously in the building on a Saturday night, too, there’s no telling when he’ll see your message, when he plans to leave or whom he’s with. When five minutes pass with no reply, you deflate in disproportionate disappointment.
It’s just rain, you tell yourself as your stomach continues sinking. Power through. You’re about to, channelling a generic indie movie character and stepping out with your phone tucked deep into your hoodie pocket when it suddenly buzzes. Heart leaping, you fish it out.
JK [22:19]
This is a pleasant surprise.
Me [22:19]
It is?
JK [22:20]
Yeah. This is the first time you’ve texted me. What’s up?
Knowing you can’t quite ambush him with a request, especially when he seems so surprised to hear from you, you bite your lip before responding.
Me [22:20]
Not much. What’s up with you?
JK [22:21]
Heading home. Been in the studio all day.
You exhale slowly, hardly daring to believe it.
Me [22:21]
Studio as in… Hybe?
JK [22:22]
That’s right. Why?
Me [22:22]
Because I kind of need a favour.
Ten minutes later, you’re in the parking lot under the building, leaning against a wall as you wait for Jungkook. There are a surprising number of cars parked for a Saturday night; apart from a Prius and a motorcycle at the end of the lot, all the cars are super shiny and fancy, meaning they belong to artists. You absently let your gaze roam over them, trying to remember which one is Jungkook’s from the night he took you out. It was a dark colour, probably black, with a heated interior and soft seats, smelling of detergent and cologne…
“Cheon Lia!”
You whip around to see a tall figure approaching you - taller than you remember. Jungkook grins as he nears you, dressed in a white t-shirt, a frayed black leather jacket, black cargo pants and combat boots. He looks so casual; you don’t know why it surprises you or why it makes you continue sneaking looks at him as you follow him.
“Wait, where are we going?” you ask, suddenly noticing that you’ve passed the entire row of cars.
“To my ride.” He raises his eyebrows as he stops next to -
“The bike?” You stop in your tracks. “This is yours?”
“Yeah. I love riding - and the weather was great when I rode here. Is it a problem?” he asks curiously.
You take a step forward, gingerly touching the sleek black engine. “Um, no. It’s…” You bite your lip, finally meeting his gaze. “It’s a really sexy bike,” you admit.
Jungkook grins proudly as he tosses his bangs out of his eyes, passing you a helmet. “Here. I have an extra.” He swings one leg over and straddles the bike, putting on his own helmet and sliding up the visor. “I know it’s not ideal and we might still get a bit wet, but…” He shrugs apologetically but you shake your head.
“No way, this is great,” you tell him, meaning it. “Better than what I was planning to do anyway. Walk,” you add when he looks at you questioningly. “Or run, more like.”
“You were going to run?” He looks at you disbelievingly. “Are you serious? And - come here, you’re wearing it wrong…” He gently pulls you closer by the forearm to tighten the buckle of your helmet under your chin. You tilt your head up slightly and stay still, noticing how his eyebrows furrow as he concentrates. You’re suddenly reminded of how you’d fixed his tie at the party and you bite your lip.
“Alright,” he says once he’s done. “Hop on.”
You grab his shoulder for support as you hoist yourself up to sit behind him, noticing once again how he seems to be built like a wall. Before you can help yourself, you wonder if he also feels like one. “Jungkook?” you lean forward over his shoulder. “Thank you for this.”
You can hear his grin. “Just hold on, alright? The rain can be… distracting.”
Hesitating for a fraction of a second, you wrap your arms around his torso. Yep. Just like a wall. A warm, hard, cologne-wearing wall.
---
“Careful!” Jungkook’s hand appears out of nowhere and grabs your forearm, preventing you from falling on the slippery pavement.
“I’m okay,” you gasp, taking more careful steps as you follow him up the steps and into the warmth of the pub - if you can call it that. It’s too small and not quite as busy or loud, but it is open and looks relatively clean. Moreover, it offers food and for now, it’s the equivalent of a five star.
“Do you want to get a table or something?” he asks, coming to stand by your side. “I’m just going to go check if the bike is parked properly.”
You nod, watching him leave. The entire place has maybe ten tables in total, mostly with folding chairs and rickety tables. It’s also relatively empty; given the time, you’re not surprised. The good thing about it, apart from the food, is that it doesn’t at all look like a place Jungkook will get recognised and once the rain started lashing down in torrents mid-ride, you knew you had to stop before he drove you both into a tree.
You head to one of the tables in the back that has slightly bigger armchairs facing each other and is situated next to a large window. Sinking into one of the chairs, you peel off your wet hoodie and drape it on the back, placing your helmet down. You’re finger-combing your tangled hair when you see Jungkook return, looking tall and broad next to the small furniture. When he spots you, his frown turns into a smile, and your stomach does another backflip.
“Everything okay?” you ask him when he reaches, taking a seat opposite you.
“Yeah. The rain is relentless, though,” he remarks, pointing at the window where the drops hit the glass with force. You notice then that he’s even wetter than he was before he left to park the bike. Taking off his jacket and throwing it on the back of his own chair, he shakes his wet hair like a dog. “Sorry,” he chuckles, noticing you flinch when some of the drops land on you. He leans back with a sigh, the white t-shirt also remarkably more transparent than before he left.
That’s alright, you want to say but for some reason the words don’t leave your mouth. “Can we get food, please?” you ask instead, not caring how whiny you sound. “Since we’re waiting out the rain anyway?”
“Of course,” he scoffs, already gesturing to the waitress. “Why do you think I agreed to stop? Uh, one fries, one Korean fried chicken and…” He turns to you. “What about you?”
You add shrimp tempura to the order and the waitress nods before leaving. You turn to Jungkook, who’s running his fingers through his wet hair. It’s vaguely distracting; your toes curl in your shoes as your gaze traces his tattoo sleeve, all the way from his wrist to his biceps after which it disappears under his sleeve. Everything about it is just…
“Big,” you murmur, realising only a moment later that you’ve said it out loud. When he looks up questioningly, you shake your head. “I just meant… your tattoos. They’re… very big.”
“Oh.” He twists his arm to look at it, as though observing this for the first time. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yeah, why not?”
He shrugs. “It wasn’t super approved of in service. I walked around a lot in full sleeves.”
You wince. “Do they have a problem with tattoos? My brother has them - he never mentioned anything.”
“Well… no. It’s not like they can ask us to get rid of them. I did have to take off the piercings, though.” He points to his face and you notice the lip ring and eyebrow stud, and you wonder how you could’ve missed them.
“You weren’t wearing that at the party, were you?”
He makes a face. “Too formal, apparently,” he mutters. “But I’m not taking them off for a second for the rest of this comeback,” he says stubbornly.
You can’t help but grin. “Good for you. And the tattoos are part of your brand anyway now…”
He grins back. “Do you have any?” he asks as the waitress arrives, placing three plates in between you two.
“I have five,” you confess, reaching for a hot fry and groaning in pleasure. “Damn, that’s the stuff.”
“Five?” Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up and he smiles in surprise, reaching for a piece of chicken. “Oh, that’s what I saw on your ankle when you got into my car. I thought it was an anklet or something. Wait, that’s three!”
You jump a bit, startled, as he chokes for a moment, wordlessly pumping his fist in the air as he coughs. “Jesus, Jungkook,” you mutter in exasperation, sliding his glass of water towards him. He grabs it and downs at least half of it before emerging, rosy-cheeked and grinning.
“That’s three,” he repeats. “You don’t like seafood, you like Harry Styles and you have a tattoo on your ankle,” he counts happily, giggling when you roll your eyes in grudging agreement. “Where are the other four, though?”
“If you couldn’t see them when I was in that dress, they’re probably in places I can’t show you just yet,” you quip, raising an eyebrow when he grins again.
“I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait,” he answers easily, even though you notice the tips of his ears reddening. “You want the last piece of chicken?” he asks, pointing to the plate.
“Go for it.”
Jungkook frowns, as though this response is out of syllabus. “Why? You let me have the last quiche that night, too. You can have it.”
“Jungkook,” you say slowly. “Just eat the damn chicken.” You watch him as he suspiciously picks it up and, pausing dramatically for a moment, tosses it in his mouth. “Good boy.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles through a mouthful of chicken. “It’s just weird. At the dorm we usually fight over every last piece so if someone’s offering you food… well, it usually means they’ve messed with it first.”
You chuckle. “Nah. I like feeding people,” you admit, a little embarrassed. “That sounds weird. I mean… I don’t know, I like it when people eat and are full and happy. I like the actual cooking part too but when I don’t have the time…” You hold up the last big fry, offering it to him, “... this is fine, too.”
He stares at you for a moment before silently reaching forward and accepting the fry. You’re glad he doesn’t fight you on it, but when his eyes don’t leave you, you frown. “What?”
“What? Nothing. Just…” He ducks his head and dips the fry into ketchup before popping it into his mouth, “... will you marry me?”
You scoff, throwing a tiny fry at him which he dodges and catches gracefully in his mouth. “You wish, Jeon.”
He smirks but doesn’t say anything else as both of you polish off all three plates and order bowls of ramen. “There’s just something about hot and soupy ramen when it’s raining,” says Jungkook wistfully, leaning back and looking out the window at the rain.
You regard him lazily, in a better mood now that you’ve been fed. “I thought you were on some monster diet for your comeback?”
“I am. Which is why today’s my cheat day. Or I’ve made it my cheat day, anyway,” he amends, shrugging, but you think he looks a little guilty.
“You can burn it off tomorrow,” you suggest lightly, hoping to reassure him a bit but also not wanting to come across as preachy. He simply nods in answer, not looking away from the window. It feels strange that he isn’t joking around, suddenly seeming uncharacteristically serious. You suddenly want to get him talking again. “How’s the comeback coming along?” you ask him after a moment.
“Not bad. It’s nice to be back in the studio,” he adds, and you’re glad to see a smile flit across his face. “I’m just worried about performing. Eventually.”
You frown. “Do you still get nervous about performing? After all these years?”
But he shakes his head. “No, not that…” He bites his lip, right next to the ring. You’re filled with the sudden urge to touch it. “It’s been two years since we left,” he confesses, finally turning to you and words tumbling out faster. “What if we don’t have any fans left? What if no one turns up?”
You’re a bit taken aback; you didn’t expect him to reveal all his deep, dark fears to you in a tiny pub. “Um…” You don’t know him that well, is the trouble. “Obviously I can’t relate… but as a person in the marketing department who was working on your comeback content until earlier this week, it doesn’t look like you’ve lost any fans. In fact, you may have gained a bunch.”
He’s hanging onto your every word, you realise, with his wide eyes and hopeful expression. At your statement, he gives you a grin, albeit a bit unsurely, but it makes you glad all the same. Your gazes linger for a moment on each other and just as it starts getting too long, the waitress brings you your steaming bowls of ramen.
Jungkook predictably dives for it without a second thought, frowning as he moans in pleasure, chopsticks gliding through the food with precision. You watch him for a few seconds, mildly fascinated, before attacking your own bowl.
“So, I have a question,” he states a little while later, once you’re both mostly done with your food, “and bear in mind that I’m just curious.” He waits for you to nod in agreement before continuing. “Why are you so determined not to go out with me?”
You frown. “I’m not determined to do anything. And I haven’t said no yet,” you remind him.
“Yeah, I know, but…” He trails off but you think you know what he means. You look down at your lap, trying not to feel guilty while he searches for the words. “It’s a game right now - and don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a challenge. And if you’re genuinely not into me, that’s fine, too. We can just be friends. I’m just... I don’t know. Curious.”
You shrug uneasily. “I told you last time. I work for Hybe and you work for Hybe - it can get really messy.”
Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, a hint of amusement on his face. “You remember the friend who convinced me to ask you out? Who said he recognised you from Hybe?” When you nod, he chuckles, mostly to himself. “Well, it turns out he recognised you because he used to date your friend Seulgi.”
Silence. Your brain freezes before going into overdrive, sorting through the memories at the speed of light. “Wait…” You frown deeply, sitting forward. “Seokjin told you to ask me out?”
“He can be quite persuasive,” comments Jungkook, sitting back with a satisfied smile. “But, yeah, Seokjin did. They dated ages ago apparently, before we all enlisted.”
You nod absently, for he’s right. You and Seulgi weren’t close then; she’d only just moved to your floor from the sales team and while you’d started working together, she hadn’t given you any details about her personal life until one evening, when your car wouldn’t start and it was getting late, she told you her boyfriend could give you a ride on their way to his apartment. It had taken you an embarrassing amount of time after you entered the car to realise who the person driving was. Kim Seokjin, in all his beauty and humour, was incredibly sweet to you, though - and, apparently, remembered you.
“Oh, God, that’s right,” you mutter, briefly reliving that night.
“Yeah. A person from your team dated a person from my band - and nothing happened,” he declares. “And I know you know that, so this coworkers reason you’re giving me…” He looks at you knowingly. “It’s not the real reason.”
“And you want the real reason,” you finish wryly, sighing.
He shrugs. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I was just wondering.”
You watch him as he fishes a small piece of meat from his mostly empty ramen bowl. “Do you remember what you told me that evening?”
Jungkook looks up. “Is this a trick question? Because the problem was literally that I didn’t say a single word to you.”
“Not on our date. After that, in the copy room.” When he simply cocks his head, frowning and looking like a child, you sigh, wondering if you’re really about to bring this up. “You told me your friend told you to ask me out so it would help you get over this other girl.” You continue watching him as the realisation dawns on him. You can tell he doesn’t quite understand the problem, but he’s at least identified the general area.
“Oh.”
“And, you know… far be it from me to not want to be your rebound -” You find yourself unable to avoid getting that in “- but I just… I have a very busy job and a tiny two-bedroom apartment I share with a roommate because I can’t afford the rent by myself and student loans… and I just don’t have the bandwidth for relationship drama.” It’s not the half of it but it’s all you’re willing to divulge to him right now.
There’s almost a minute of heavy silence as Jungkook presumably processes this. You sneak a glance at him; he’s staring at his lap, bangs falling on his forehead as he furrows his brow, tongue sticking out inside his cheek. Then, finally, he takes a deep breath.
“Lia, I’m - I’m sorry. I guess I should’ve been more upfront with you.” He pauses, looking thoughtful. “I also should’ve explained better. Look, I wasn’t mad that night because I liked someone else. I was mad because Seokjin got involved and kept pressuring me to get over her when I already was. Believe me, there’s nothing like a year and a half in service to give you some perspective,” he adds. “I’m serious, though. If that’s what you’re worried about… you don’t need to be. That’s over.”
You consider this. “Tell me something about her.”
His smile fades. “Why is that something we have to do?”
“Just.” When he simply continues to look bewildered, you roll your eyes. “Come on, it doesn’t have to be anything deep. Just any one detail, so I can think of her as a real person.”
“Um…” He shrugs wildly. “She likes video games.”
Huh. He’s right; you don’t know what you accomplished with this. In fact, you realise you can never actively tell him that you like video games as well, just in case he thinks you’re saying it because of this. Thankfully, the waitress comes back then, asking you both if you want a drink. For a moment you consider a beer but then quickly switch to hot chocolate. After a lingering look at you, Jungkook asks for the same.
“Alright, my turn,” you begin, clearing your throat. “Why are you so determined to get me to go out with you?”
Jungkook gives you a puzzled look. “Well, because I -” He breaks off and swallows, the apples of his cheeks reddening slightly.
You plough on, though, ignoring it. “I mean, I have to be honest. It was one bad date but we’re over it. We’re moving on but the fact that you asked me out again?” You bite your lip. “It feels a bit like a consolation date. Like a pity date.”
His jaw drops. “A pity date? That’s…” He seems to be lost for words. “Is - is that why you think I’m here?” He sounds more fearful than annoyed and his expression makes your heart clench unexpectedly.
“No, I didn’t - I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” you stutter, not knowing what just happened. “It’s kind of sweet in a way? That you want to make up for it? But you have to admit, it’s - it’s kind of weird. I mean, you don’t actually know me well enough to want a second date this badly for any other reason.”
Jungkook says nothing, simply frowning at you from across the table. It’s something like a glare, but he looks more annoyed with himself than you. “I saw you tip the waiter,” he says eventually, looking sullen. “The waiter, the one who spilled the drink on you. Most people would’ve got him fired. But you tipped him.”
You have to look away because his gaze is so intense. “He probably got in trouble anyway,” you mutter. “I didn’t know you saw that.”
He shrugs at his lap, playing with a loose thread at the end of his t-shirt and still looking moody. With his stature, not to mention the tattoos and piercings, he looks like a pouting villain on that silly American show you and your friends used to watch, about that comic. It makes you want to wrap him in a hug. “And you gave me the last piece of chicken and snuck out to get food for your friend Jieun. You’re a nice person. You’re hardworking - and by that I mean you’re always working,” he clarifies, rolling his eyes. “And you’re kind of funny when you’re not being mean,” he adds snarkily.
You bite your lip, trying really hard to stop the smile from forming on your face. But you give up when he continues looking anywhere but at you, his huge eyes taking away any and all edge he thinks he has. “Alright, point taken,” you concede softly, just wanting him to look at you again. When he nods sarcastically, still not looking at you, you huff in amusement. “Come on, are you really sulking?”
“No.”
“Look at your face, Jeon. What would your fans say if they saw the famous golden maknae in a bad mood because some girl who works with him accused him of offering her a pity date?”
“They’d say Oh, Jungkook oppa, I’ll go on that date with you,” he says immediately, putting on a fake high voice. “And I won’t even make fun of you when you tell me you like me because I think you’re cute when you’re nervous.”
You snort, bursting into laughter as the waitress brings your hot chocolate. “Firstly, oppa? I think that answers your question all in itself.”
He gives you an unimpressed look. “Please. I know I made that noona joke at the party but I couldn’t give a shit about your age. In fact, I don’t even think you give a shit about your age.”
Unable to come up with a retort to this rather true statement, you simply shrug and take a sip of your hot chocolate, sighing. “I think you’re cute, too,” you admit casually after a moment, keeping your eyes on the creamy chocolate.
“Liar,” he accuses, but seems to be in a slightly better mood now that he has a sip of sugar in his system. “So, anyway. You tipped the waiter. That’s the answer.”
“I tipped the waiter,” you murmur thoughtfully. Then something occurs to you. “Hey, that’s four, by the way.”
“What? Oh. Yeah, it is,” he chuckles softly, but he seems remarkably less excited than when he got the third. “But honestly, I’m just afraid if I don’t get this date, I’ll never get my hoodie back.”
You groan dramatically and roll your eyes as he laughs, making your stomach flip at the sight of him finally smiling. “You know what? When you drop me back to my apartment now, I will personally hand it back to you,” you promise. “Oh, God, unless there’s a stupid party going on right now.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Your roommate’s having a party?”
“Always is,” you groan, shaking your head. “I’d say I disapprove, but I’m mostly just jealous of people who can party on Saturdays.”
“Is that something you enjoy? Partying?” He bounces his shoulders to invisible beats, like he’s at a club.
You giggle at the sight. “Party, play FIFA. Same thing.” You internally cringe when you realise what you’ve said and scramble to cover it up. “Or even a second date. You never know,” you add teasingly.
He nods thoughtfully. “Or third date, actually. Technically, you can count this as a second date,” he informs you, gesturing to the table full of empty plates between you. “Didn’t kill you, right?”
You scoff. “This is not a date.”
“What do you mean? We’re at a restaurant - kind of. We shared a meal. We’re having a beverage,” he points out, tapping his mug knowingly.
“We didn’t - we ended up sharing a meal,” you correct him. “What we’re doing is waiting for the rain to stop.”
“The rain stopped thirty minutes ago.”
You can feel all vestiges of expression leave your face as you whip your head to look out the window next to you, heart thudding as you realise he’s right. “I - when did you realise?”
Jungkook smirks, making his lip ring glint in the dim light and your toes curl inside your shoes. Taking another sip of his hot chocolate, he pretends to think. “Somewhere around the time you said you like feeding me because I look full and happy.”
“That is not what I said,” you say forcefully, feeling your cheeks burn. “But I guess this is as good a time as any to head out, right?” Before he can protest, you stand up. “I’m going to go pay. Finish your hot chocolate,” you tell him as he looks up at you with his big eyes, about to stand up as well. At the last moment, you ruffle his hair sarcastically before walking away.
“We should’ve split the check,” he says when you return a couple of minutes later, reaching for your hoodie.
“You’re only here because I asked you for a favour,” you remind him. “I owe you.”
Jungkook pauses for a moment before nodding, making no move to get up. “That’s fair. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now, come on, put on your jacket. Let’s go.”
“I’m not done with my drink yet.”
You peer into his mug. “Yes, you are. There’s only dregs left at the bottom.”
“That’s the chocolate,” he says seriously. “It’s the best part of the -”
“Well, then finish it quickly, we need to -”
“No, it’s meant to be enjoyed slowly, with a spoon and -”
But when you give him a look, he rolls his eyes and heaves a big sigh before reaching for a spoon and scooping up the remains of his drink.
“Thank you,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him up, leading him out of the pub with his jacket in his other hand.
“You are so bossy, you know that?” he grumbles half-heartedly as you step outside, the chilly breeze hitting your face.
“Don’t pretend you don’t kind of like it.” You only intend to quip but in the light from the lone street lamp outside, you see his ears redden again and you feel a light, slow burn in your abdomen that you haven’t felt in a long time. You watch him a bit shamelessly as he throws on his leather jacket again and climbs the bike before donning his helmet.
“Need some help with that?” he asks, pointing to the one in your hand.
“No, it’s -” You begin automatically before pausing. “Yeah. Sure.” You walk up to him and place it on your head, standing still as he adjusts the buckle, only his eyes visible under the visor. You imagine the lip ring slightly lower and, just like a while back, feel the need to touch it.
“Alright, you’re good,” he says after a few seconds, patting the top of your helmet lightly. You look up at him, once again registering how tall he is, and his comment about how age means nothing suddenly seems truer than ever.
“Thanks,” you murmur, stepping aside and going to climb up behind him. You lean forward to show him the map on your phone, pointing to the important turns on the ten minute journey to your apartment, smelling his faint cologne as he turns slightly to look.
You hold onto him once again as he takes off, the streets still wet and the winds still cool, but with no rain drenching you. You’re actually able to enjoy the ride this time, feeling the breeze through your tangled hair, resting your chin lightly against Jungkook’s shoulder and allowing yourself to close your eyes now that you’re certain he doesn’t have visibility issues. He’s actually built like a wall, you think again, feeling his back flex against your chest every time he takes a turn.
“Do you want to take a slight detour?” he asks, turning his head very slightly, voice cutting through the wind like music.
“Yes,” you reply, eyes still closed. Your arms tighten around him as he goes straight instead of left, eventually reaching the main road. Given the time, the streets are mostly empty and the bike zooms through, slightly faster than before. I love riding, he’d said to you earlier this evening although it seems like ages ago. If someone had told you then that you’d be straddling his sexy bike behind him, arms wrapped around his steady torso so you could feel every ridge of lean muscle underneath his t-shirt, or how your knees would be brushing his thigh, your pelvis pressed against his hips - and that you liked it… well, you would’ve been hard pressed to believe it.
You’re not sure how much longer he continues riding at the same speed. At one point you pull away from him a bit, hands resting lightly on his waist, so you can feel the wind better. When he takes a sudden turn, your eyes snap open as you’re jerked forward, your arms automatically going around him again and you realise he’s taking you home. An uncomfortable feeling of disappointment settles in your stomach as you approach your apartment.
“It’s just up here,” you tell him as he slows down, before coming to a complete halt in front of a three-storey building. Your eyes go directly to the second floor as you get off and you groan softly when you see the flashing red and blue lights, realising the stupid party is still going on.
Jungkook’s eyes follow yours as he takes off his helmet, running a hand through his black hair before it falls gracefully over his forehead. “Party still happening?” he asks, sounding part amused and part sympathetic.
“Yeah,” you mutter, taking off your own helmet and knowing that the rain has probably made it wavy. Lightly fluffing it out, you hand the helmet back to him. “It’s okay, though. The music doesn’t seem that loud so I can probably get some sleep.”
He nods, climbing off as well and leaning back against the bike. He looks… hot, you acknowledge. You can’t not, especially after that bike ride. He looks winded, but in a good way. Cheeks rosy, hair ruffled, expression slightly dazed - he looks beautiful.
You break the silence. “Thanks for the ride. Really. I appreciate it.”
“I had fun,” he says, shrugging.
“Me, too,” you reply honestly, smiling up at him. He smiles back and the movement makes the lip ring glint again. Maybe it’s the tiredness, maybe it’s the bike ride that took your breath away, but you finally throw caution to the wind and reach up to touch the lip ring with your thumb.
He stays still, a slight frown creasing his forehead as he watches you. “Doesn’t this get in the way?” you ask, dropping your hand back to your side.
The frown remains for a moment before he smirks. “In the way of what?” he asks innocently.
Your cheeks heat up and you try to suppress a smile. “Okay, that’s a no,” you guess, looking away as he chuckles. You expect him to crack a joke about how you might find out soon enough but when he doesn’t, you look up at him in mild curiosity to see him still looking down at you, gaze intense as it falls slowly to your mouth before snapping back up. “Any plans for tomorrow?” you ask quickly.
“Um, studio,” is all he says. “Practice and then recording.”
“On a Sunday?” you ask, even though you know well enough that weekends mean nothing to artists.
“Yeah,” he answers, shoving his hands into his pockets. “For the next couple of weeks, at least.”
“You can’t take a day off?”
He chuckles, as though the idea is unheard of. “I’m supposed to meet Suga hyung tomorrow. He doesn’t believe in cancelling studio appointments on short notice.”
“Glad I texted you in time today, I guess.” You raise your eyebrows teasingly and he smiles, biting his lip. It makes your toes curl in your shoes again, and he suddenly feels taller.
Pressing his hands deeper into his pockets and looking down at the ground, he takes a deep breath. “So, um, do you think -”
“Lia!”
Jungkook’s head snaps up a fraction of a second before yours whips around to see the source of the voice.
“Hey, you were gone for a while,” he comments, patting your shoulder. “Everyone was asking about you.” He looks up then to see Jungkook and nods politely before sticking out a hand. “Hey, man.”
You turn to see Jungkook nod automatically before looking down at you. “Jungkook, this is Dal. My roommate.” Next to you, Dal frowns and Jungkook seems to remember then that he hasn’t moved a muscle.
“Hey,” he replies finally, shaking Dal’s hand. You notice they’re of the same height.
Turning to you, Dal points towards the party. “I’m just going across the street to stock up on mixers. Anything you want?”
“Oh, no,” you answer, shaking your head. “It’s been a long day. I’m just going to crash.”
Dal frowns. “You’re still on for tomorrow, right? Suho already dropped out.”
“I’m in, for sure.”
“Cool.” With a good-natured smile, he looks up at Jungkook. “You should join, too, if you can. You play basketball, right?”
Jungkook raises his eyebrows, like he wasn’t expecting to be spoken to at all. Before he can open his mouth, you jump in. “Oh, Jungkook is… he’s really busy tomorrow. I don’t know if he wants to -”
“No, I’m in,” interrupts Jungkook, looking from you to Dal and nodding. “Sounds fun.”
“Great,” says Dal, smiling and probably meaning it. “We’ll have even teams now. Alright, I’ll be back in a bit,” he tells you before nodding to Jungkook. “See you tomorrow, mate.” As he jogs away, you turn to look slowly to look at Jungkook.
“You know, you really don’t have to come,” you assure him. “I know you’re busy with your comeback and stuff.”
“No, I’ll be there,” he says, still watching Dal as he disappears down the street before turning back to you. “So that’s your roommate.”
“Yeah,” you answer slowly, having an inkling of where this is going. “I thought you had to go to the studio tomorrow. What happened to ‘Suga hyung doesn’t believe in cancelling studio appointments’?”
“I’ll go after the - the game? Match?” he guesses, looking uncertain. “Anyway, he likes basketball, too; he’ll understand. And how come you’re going? Don’t you have a huge presentation to finish?”
You’d only mentioned it in passing so you’re surprised he remembers. “I do. But I never miss basketball Sundays. Ever. For anything.”
Jungkook nods, looking impressed… and something else. “Great. I won’t either.” He keeps looking at you, as though daring you to discourage him again. When you simply fold your arms across your chest and nod in resignation, he takes a deep breath. “So… what does he do? Dal?” he clarifies when you raise your eyebrows.
“Oh. He’s… he’s a physical trainer,” you reply, somewhat anticipating his reaction when he nods stiffly and - you’re not sure if you’re imagining this - flexes his arms and chest slightly. “Listen, seriously, Jungkook. Are you sure you want to come?”
“Yes,” he repeats. “Dal invited me, didn’t he? I’m good at sports. It’s all good.”
No, it isn’t. But he’s right when he says he’s good at sports. In fact, from what you’ve heard, he’s good at most things. You tilt your head to the side. You also remember something else, about a girl who likes video games and your heart twists unexpectedly. “Okay,” you say finally, just as you notice Dal returning, a plastic bag in his hands. Jungkook turns around as well and you hear him exhale through his nose.
“Oh, you’re still here,” remarks Dal, reaching you both and smiling. “I’m heading up,” he tells you. “Are you coming?”
“Uh… yeah.” You look up at Jungkook, suddenly wishing Dal had waited a few more minutes before returning, or that he’d leave now. But for a moment both men look expectantly at you, albeit for different reasons, until Jungkook breaks the silence.
“I should head out, too,” he says, but looking only at you as you nod.
“Cool. Will we see you tomorrow?” Dal asks and you wince internally at how pronounced the word we sounds.
Jungkook seems to have picked up on it, too. “Absolutely. Text me the address,” he says, once again speaking only to you as he takes a step back towards his bike. Then, casually, as though he’s done it a million times before, he lowers his head and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Goodnight,” he says easily to you and Dal, climbing onto his bike and backing it onto the street before riding away.
---
“I’m going to ask you one more time: are you sure?”
“Yes, my God. Next left?”
“Yeah, onto the dirt road.” You press the phone to your ear and turn around when you hear the smooth sound of a car engine. The same black Hyundai that picked you for a date months ago appears in view, turning into the makeshift parking space and stopping next to Dal’s silver Renault. You bring your phone down and walk towards the car, feeling your stomach do a small backflip when the driver’s door opens and a familiar figure steps out.
“How was the drive?” you ask when you reach him, motioning for him to follow you onto the court.
“Short,” is all he says, depositing his car keys and cell phone with the others next to the water bottles and extra basketball. “Should we stretch?”
You nod, following his lead as he grabs his elbow behind his head, warming up his shoulders and back. You begin stretching your calves as the others in your group trudge in as well, a mix of your and Dal’s mutual friends, his work friends whom you barely know, Jungkook, and another girl you’ve never seen before. You’re eight in total; everyone greets each other as they spread out on the court, the breeze cool and light. The sun is a dark orange, about thirty minutes away from setting so it’s only a matter of time before the flood lights switch on.
“How long have you been coming here?” Jungkook asks you when you’re both on the ground, reaching forward and over to touch your toes. His legs look long and muscular under his loose black shorts, arms just like you remember them from last night under a near-identical white t-shirt. Your eyes linger on his tattoo sleeve before you force yourself to meet his gaze.
“A couple of years,” you answer, stretching forward. Sitting up, you tug your tank top slightly higher to cover your cleavage and look up to see Jungkook quickly turn away as well. “We, uh… I mean, I haven’t played a lot since high school so this is a good way to get back.”
At that moment, Dal comes over, in loose black shorts like Jungkook’s and a sleeveless Kobe jersey. His arms are toned and bulky as ever, but with the amount of time you’ve known him for, you’re desensitized to it. “Lee-lee,” he says by way of greeting, clapping you on the back and using your oldest nickname. “Same team as last time? You, me, Baekhyun, Donghyuk?”
“Oh -” You turn uncertainly in Jungkook’s direction. “Since Jungkook's new, I was going to ask him, actually, if he wanted to be in the same -”
“No, no, that’s alright,” interrupts Jungkook, shaking his head. "You should stay in your team. I'm good with anyone."
"Sounds good," says Dal, motioning for him to get up. "Come on, I'll introduce you to them.” He smiles good-naturedly as Jungkook gets to his feet, dusting himself off.
“Who’s the new girl, by the way?” you ask quickly, the thought suddenly occurring to you that Jungkook might be recognised. None of the people you know here really listen to pop music much, let alone be able to identify idols in a casual setting, but you feel yourself worrying anyway.
“- back in the - oh, that’s Baekhyun’s new girlfriend. Or something,” answers Dal, turning back to you momentarily as both men walk away. “You should meet her, too. And - chill. She seems fine so far.”
Your eyes dart to Jungkook who seems to understand what’s on your mind. But he doesn’t comment on it. “Yeah, don’t worry, Lee-lee,” he says simply, giving you a rather nonchalant smile.
“I’m not worrying,” you mutter under your breath, rolling your eyes as you scramble to your feet and follow them. After a brief round of introductions, everyone spreads out into their sides of the court, deciding within their teams which four positions to assign. As you and Jungkook walk to the middle of the court, you lean up to him once more. “Are you good?”
He frowns mildly, looking down at you. “Yeah. Why?”
You don’t answer. You feel somewhat responsible for him, having brought him here, even as you acknowledge that Dal was the one that invited him and he accepted of his own free will. “Just… watch out for Donghyuk, alright? He can get pretty aggressive with the ball.”
Jungkook looks almost amused at your tone. You think he’s about to make a joke, probably adding a Lee-lee at the end of it for shits and giggles, but he simply touches your shoulder. “Relax,” he says, his face softening slightly. “I’ll be okay.”
You nod, not knowing what else to say as you separate. When you turn around in your position to face the other team, your eyes automatically go to Jungkook. He might be right; he certainly looks like he belongs here. Tall, fit and braced in position, you have to admit he looks pretty fantastic. Even when Baekhyun and his girlfriend Nari, on opposite teams, jump for the ball and the game begins, you spot Jungkook jogging to presumably cover another one of his teamates, looking like a natural athlete on the court.
That is, until he gets the ball in his hands. Somehow, somewhere, the ball gets passed to him and he seems to catch it as a reflex before his eyes go wide at the realisation that he has to make the next move. Basketball is a fast, blink-and-you-miss-it kind of game, though, so by the time Jungkook unfreezes and begins dribbling the ball, Donghyuk has already sprinted and smoothly gained control of it, giving it a couple of expert dribbles before shooting a clean three-pointer.
Dal and Baekhyun cheer and you know you should, too, but all you can see is Jungkook’s guilty expression as he apologetically shakes his head at his teammates. It sends a pang through your heart, how lost he looks - and it only gets worse from then on. As the game progresses, it becomes increasingly clear that while Jungkook probably is the golden maknae and good at most things, basketball isn’t one of them. In fact, when Nari from the other team corners and asks you in a low voice if it’s his first time, you grudgingly have to tell her that yes, it is.
As the sky darkens, so does the game. Your group isn’t a rough one in general; you all play for fun, getting competitive only in a friendly, good-natured way. However, you all are competitive. The trouble is, so is Jungkook, apparently. His frustration with himself is clearly visible and there’s more than one moment during the game when you consider calling a time-out and inventing an excuse for you both to leave so that the teams remain even.
But you know it won’t work. Being rubbish at something seems to only spur him on, as though determined to figure the game out. You wince every time he bangs into someone and when he trips and falls, taking his teammate Jiwon down with him while Dal gracefully performs a layup behind them, Baekhyun has to actively grab your arm to stop you from running over to him. As for you, you make it your mission to tackle everyone on the opposing team but him, just not finding the heart to kick him while he’s down.
When the game starts to reach its conclusion, you sigh internally in relief, panting a little as you jog back to your position. You tighten your ponytail as your eyes search for Jungkook, who’s also starting to look rather sick of this game but determined to see it through. He tosses his hair out of his eyes and his eyebrow stud glints when the light catches it. Even now, he looks gorgeous.
As though he can hear you, his eyes dart to yours and you see a small smile start to form on his face. You’re about to return it when you see Donghyuk beginning the game from the corner of your eye - heading straight in Jungkook’s direction. Your eyes widen in warning a second before he smiles.
---
“Ready to go?” Dal zips up his jacket and turns expectantly to you.
In answer, you look towards the lone figure sitting on the outer ledge of the court, hunched over his knees as he holds his hand to his face. “I’ll just be a few more minutes,” you tell Dal, who nods in understanding. “Thanks for the ice pack.”
“No problem. He seems like a nice guy.” Dal gives you a knowing look. “I’ll wait in my car.”
“Okay. And… tell Donghyuk to take it a bit easy maybe?” you suggest, trying and failing to keep the annoyance out of your voice.
“Oh, yeah, because that’s worked so well in the past.” Rolling his eyes, Dal walks away as you make your way over to Jungkook.
When you reach him, you stand before him for a moment before sinking to your knees, keeping them hovering above the ground. “Are you okay?” you ask softly.
“‘M fine,” he mutters, voice slightly muffled by the ice pack he’s holding to his nose with his tattooed hand. You scan his face quickly; there’s nothing visibly wrong but your guilt goes much deeper than an injury.
“Jungkook.” You pause when he deliberately doesn’t meet your eyes. “Dal is just my roommate. We’ve been friends since high school.”
He stiffens at your words, gaze freezing somewhere around your shoulder. “Why are you telling me this?” he asks after a moment.
You can’t help but roll your eyes slightly at this, not dignifying his question with an answer, partly because it’s ridiculous and partly because you don’t know what to say to convince him how unfounded his jealousy is. Reaching up, you gently brush his sweaty bangs off his forehead. “You can’t play basketball,” you sigh.
Jungkook scoffs before wincing in pain. “No shit. Did the ball I took to the face give you a hint?”
“No, I mean…” Confession time. “I know you can’t play basketball. You told me so on our date.” When he finally looks at you, frowning in surprise, you nod. “I think it was the only thing you told me about yourself that night.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. I’d watched Remember The Titans that day and when I asked if you’d seen it, you said, “What kind of a loser watches a movie about a sport he doesn’t play?””
He groans. “God, I was a dick,” he mutters, shaking his head.
You shrug. “Yeah, well… today I was a dick.” When he doesn’t respond, you sigh again. “Seriously, though, Jungkook. Why did you insist on coming today?”
He swallows and his gaze darts towards something behind you before looking away. You don’t have to turn to know what he’s looking at, for behind you is the parking lot with a silver Renault in it, and you had an inkling it would come to this ever since Dal showed up outside your apartment last night.
“I’m good at most sports,” he says eventually, and you can hear the underlying frustration at the fact that he wasn’t today. “Didn’t know I’d break my face in this one.”
You give him a small smile, reaching up to gently move the ice pack away from his skin. “Don’t worry. It’s not bleeding and it doesn’t look like anything is broken so I think you’ll be fine.”
There’s a few moments where neither of you speak. Then Jungkook bites his lip. “What about you? Why didn’t you say anything when you knew I couldn’t play?”
It’s your turn to look away guiltily. “I wanted to see if you’d come,” you confess, looking at the ground. “And... I like video games, too, I guess.” You wait for him to respond to that but he doesn’t, and you think he understands, that jealousy - or insecurity - works both ways and if anything, you wanted to see if you were worth the challenge. Eventually you look up at him, turning his face gently by the chin and inspecting it. “You should go to the hospital, though.”
His eyes widen. “You just said everything’s fine!”
“I said there’s no blood and it doesn’t look like anything is broken,” you correct him. “But you still need to get it checked out. The doctor will give you some anaesthesia and your pain will -”
“Oh, hell no. I don’t like needles.”
You squint in disbelief. “You have, like, a hundred tattoos.”
“That’s different. I don’t like medical needles.”
“Fine. Power through the pain, then. But you need an X-ray or an MRI to make sure there’s nothing -”
“No, I don’t - I don’t like those machines.”
You exhale in exasperation. “You just got back from the army. Are you really afraid of an MRI machine?”
“I’m not afraid,” he protests, frowning stubbornly. “They’re just claustrophobic.”
“Well, you know what? You may not have a choice,” you half-snap, eyes flickering towards the figure approaching behind him, “because I think… I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s… wait, that’s Suga, right?”
Jungkook turns to see his band member, dressed in jeans and a sweater and stopping tactfully some distance away when he sees you two, and nods. “Yeah, I told him I’d be here… and to come pick me up if I wasn’t back by seven.”
“What, did you think we were going to murder you or something?”
“If Donghyuk had his way, probably.” He points to his face. “I wasn’t totally off base.”
“Wow, that’s a - that’s a great way to get your friends to hate me,” you inform him, feeling your stomach churn.
But Jungkook simply shakes his head. "You play basketball. He'd really like you. Plus, he's got that whole sarcastic thing going, too, like you."
You grin. "Good. It means he'll make sure you get your ass to the hospital without running away before you get there."
He gives you a look. "You think I can't outrun him?"
You smile even wider, so, so endeared. "I'm sure you can." Brushing back his bangs again, you continue. "Anyway, like I was saying, you should really go to the hospital."
"But -"
"Go, get your scans done, take the pills they'll probably give you for the pain…" You adjust yourself where you’re sitting on the balls of your foot, “... and when you’re done and okay… let me know when you can pick me up for that second date.”
Silence. Jungkook slowly lowers the ice pack. “What?” Then he narrows his eyes. “Wait, is this a pity date?” he asks suspiciously. “Because I broke my face and you feel bad?”
“Dramatic much? You did not break your face,” you remind him, scowling. “And -” You slap him on the shoulder, making him gasp, “- don’t use my accusations against me!”
“Then why? I’ve only remembered four things,” he says, eyes big and dark.
“Forget the fifth,” you tell him lightly. “You’ve more than made up for it.” You realise it’s true, and you’re not just talking about the basketball fiasco. You look up to see him looking intently at you, chewing at his lower lip as though coming to a decision.
“I remember the fifth.” When you frown, he nods and you think he looks a little bashful. “You like Caffeta coffee.”
You blink. “What?”
“A sachet fell out of your bag in my car when you left that night,” he explains. “It was a red one… vanilla roast, I think? Anyway, I’d recognise that anywhere. There’s only one other person I know who’s that obsessed with coffee.”
You nod in a daze, knowing that Jung Hoseok is famous around Hybe for his caffeine preferences. “Would this have anything to do with the miraculously fixed coffee machine in the marketing department and Caffeta sachets that are somehow only on our floor…?”
“I’ve become pretty good friends with the kitchen staff over the years.”
“But…” You try to remember. “Jungkook, that was days ago. Why didn’t you say anything? You would’ve finished the game… well, yesterday.”
He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “I wanted to hang out,” is all he says, and with a rush of affection for him, you understand what he’s saying. What you were telling yourself as a comfort, that you could still say no to a date even if he finished the challenge, is what he was afraid of. You don’t know what to say to that, so you lean forward and silently press a kiss to his cheek.
Maybe your jealousy is unfounded, too. When his cheeks redden slightly and he visibly suppresses a smile, you wonder in mild exasperation and fondness how on earth getting hit in so many different ways by a basketball can still make him look this angelic.
“Alright, you should go now,” you tell him softly, tapping his knee. “You have a comeback soon; you don’t need anything going wrong with your pretty face while you’re on stage.”
Jungkook grins. “You think my face is - ow!” He winces and covers his nose, frowning in pain.
“Okay, don’t - don’t smile,” you advise him indulgently, taking the ice pack from him and slowly touching it to his nose. “And, come on, this can’t be the first time you’ve heard this. The whole world thinks your face is pretty.” You look at him to see him raising his eyebrows behind the ice pack, eyes wide and expectant. You roll your eyes. “But, yes, I think your face is pretty, too.”
He seems incapable of not smiling so you simply gesture to him to keep the ice pack pressed to his face as you both stand up.
You brush his elbow with your fingers. "Go. And - and text me later? To let me know if everything's fine?" You wait for him to nod and he holds the ice pack out to you. "No, keep it."
But he shakes his head. "I'd rather not," he says, looking up at you as though expecting you to insist but you don't argue. Taking it, you nod at Suga behind him as he raises a hand in acknowledgment. “How will you get home?”
“I’m going with Dal,” you reply, pointing with your thumb in the direction of the car park.
“He’s in the car? Right now?” When you say yes, he simply nods thoughtfully, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.
“What?” you ask, a little teasingly. “You’re not going to kiss me this time?”
As expected, the tips of his ears begin to redden but he keeps his expression calm. “Nope. Not when I can’t use my face properly.”
“Alright. Make sure it’s alright for our date, then. Our third date, I guess.” Then, just to see him blush again, you wink. “And you know what happens on the third date.”
“Suddenly, I’m glad it’s just my face that got hit.”
You laugh, noting how he smiles and winces again. You don’t know how you ended up here, truly and fully crushing on the worst date of your life. His thoughts seem to be in the same territory as he looks at you, and you both take a step towards each other and come together in a hug.
“Take care of your face, Jeon,” you murmur against his shoulder. He smells faintly of his cologne, of grass and sweat, and you hold him a little tighter. “And don’t skip any pills.”
His arms feel impossibly strong and steady around your torso. Feeling the initial stirrings of warmth between your legs, you start to pull away but he tightens his grip, making you stay for a few more moments before letting you go. At the last moment, almost like he can’t help himself, he kisses your cheek.
“Sorry,” he says, eyes flickering behind you, not sounding sorry at all.
“Uh-huh.” You shake your head, not fooled. “Goodnight, Kook. Let me know what happens in the scary MRI machine.”
“Evil,” he calls out, walking backwards. You watch him get into his car with Suga as you reach Dal’s, getting into the passenger seat and strapping yourself in, cheeks warm and tingly. Just as he pulls out, you take out your phone to remind Jungkook of one last thing.
Me [19:28]
Oh, also? If you wear that stupid baseball cap on our date this time, I’m going to light it on fire and watch it burn.
~Fin~
Taglist: @bbl32, @ggukkieland, @bangtannoonalvg, @pb-n-juju
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think :)