Actions

Work Header

icebox heart

Work Text:

Sry I just don’t think its gna work out

Big surprise there, Jungkook thinks to himself, quickly typing out a bullshit response before locking his phone. 

That’s the second time this semester. The second time Jungkook tried the whole dating thing, but apparently, miserably failed. Which, whatever. Honestly, Jungkook is never really bothered when things don’t work out with the guys he’s seeing. He’s still young; he doesn’t need something serious now. Probably doesn’t need something serious until like, the distant future. He’ll be fine. He’s pretty sure Namjoon has someone he’s been wanting to introduce to him, anyway. 

It’s not that Jungkook doesn’t necessarily do relationships. He’s not a stupid cliche from a ‘90s movie nor is he some emotionally stunted man-child that isn’t capable of being loved. He’s fine. He’s just not in a rush. 

Regardless of how his friends might say otherwise. 

“Another heart broke, Jungkookie?” 

Jungkook looks at the culprit, Taehyung, who’s looking smug as he asks. He’s got Jimin on his lap like it’s his boyfriend’s god-given right to sit there, completely disregarding the fact that this is where Taehyung works, not to mention he’s working right now. 

“It was Hyunjae-ssi,” Jungkook says vaguely. “Said it’s not gonna work between us.”

“Big shock there.” Jimin snickers. “What’s that? The fourth guy this term?”

“It’s the second, disphit,” Jungkook corrects him.

“‘Hyung’ works just fine,” Jimin says, but Jungkook knows him well enough to know he’s teasing. 

“So what are you gonna do now?” Taehyung asks. “You should try Seungyeon-ssi. You know the guy that always comes in here with his friends conveniently every time you’re working? He wants to suck your dick so bad.”

“Maybe he just really likes ice skating.” Jungkook shrugs, trying his best to deflect the stranger’s probable feelings. “It’s a popular sport.”

“No, it’s not. Ice skating is incredibly gay, by the way,” Jimin says. “Which I can say because I’m currently seated on another man.”

“I’m aware.” Jungkook eyes them. “You do know he works here, right?” 

“As if anyone comes in here other than the hockey team and fucking… what’s his name, baby? The guy that wants Jungkook so bad?” Jimin nudges Taehyung.

“Seungyeon-ssi.”

“Seungyeon-ssi,” Jimin repeats. “Other than that, this place is a ghost town.”

Jungkook looks around, eerily aware of the truth in Jimin’s point. The Icebox is a skating rink only a twelve-minute subway ride from university and was older than god, with a carpet with way too many stains that said that at some point, someone here was murdered, and a playlist to match. Disco music, mostly. Not pleasant. 

Unfortunately, it was also where Jungkook had signed his life away for the time being, in return for minimum wage and days like this, where he gets to watch Jimin and Taehyung makeout and pray they don’t go past first base. 

“Hockey team is coming in a bit for practice, at least,” Taehyung points out. “Which means the entire team will flirt with Hobi hyung and he somehow won’t know. That’s entertainment.”

“True,” Jimin nods before his eyes spark with something evil. Jungkook hates when he gets that look in his eyes. “Also means Jungkookie’s boyfriend is coming.”

And, ok, fine. Jungkook should've seen that coming. Because his friends, mainly Jimin and Taehyung, are nothing if not a pair of thorns in Jungkook’s side , constantly teasing Jungkook for a crush he does not have. On Kim Seokjin, nonetheless. 

Kim Seokjin; senior, hockey team captain, and Jungkook’s sworn enemy.

Taehyung’s eyes light up with glee as he exclaims, “Jin hyung!”

“Fuck off.” Jungkook sighs. “When are you guys gonna give that up? It’s not even remotely funny anymore. Actually, it never has been.”

“Yes, it is, and yes, it always has been,” Taehyung corrects him. “I find it extremely funny that you have a personal vendetta in general, but even more so that it’s against Jin hyung, the coolest fucking person we know.”

“He’s not even cool.” Jungkook groans, spinning on the broken stool he’s currently sat on behind the front counter. 

“Says you.” Jimin scoffs in disbelief. “You think Justin Bieber makes good music.”

“He does.”

Jimin ignores him. “You’re the only person in the world with an inexplicable hatred for Seokjin hyung. He’s great. He always has the best parties and the best booze and can wear the fuck out of a pair of jeans. You’re just boring.”

“It’s not inexplicable,” Jungkook argues. “I have my reasons and they’re valid. For one, he’s just. So… incredibly jock.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you just say that? That makes total sense.”

“I've tried saying it, you people just—“

“That was fucking sarcasm, JK,” Jimin interrupts. “You have no good reasons.” 

“Yes, I do!” Jungkook defends himself, though he’s not too sure why. He’s been defending himself for about a year and a half now. Or a year, five months, and 17 days. Not like he’s been counting how long he’s had the unfortunate opportunity to know Seokjin. Because that’d probably mean something. “He just… grinds my gears.”

“Sounds kinky,” Taehyung says. 

“Well, it’s not,” Jungkook counters. “He’s just constantly using an outside voice and going to parties and hooking up with random people and calling me ‘ kid.’ He's every bad stereotype he can be.”

“Jungkookie and Jin hyung sitting in a tree—“ Taehyung starts to sing, as if he’s in middle school, ignoring everything Jungkook has just said. Jungkook is not a violent person, but he swears he’s about to start swinging. 

The door behind them labeled EMPLOYEES ONLY suddenly opens, Yoongi peeking his head outside. His hideout. Perks of being the shift manager, Jungkook always thinks. 

“Is the hockey team here yet?” he asks, doing his best to be completely casual. “And why is he singing? Taehyung-ah, stop fucking singing.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know if the hockey team is here yet?” Jimin is smirking, which Jungkook knows for a fact Yoongi hates because Jungkook also hates it. 

“Fuck off, Park Jimin,” Yoongi raises his middle finger in said boy’s direction. “Why are you even here? You show up more than actual employees.”

“I like seeing Taehyungie in uniform. Major turn on.”

“It’s just a red vest with a nametag.” Yoongi frowns.

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, looking down at the red fabric, “but you’d be surprised by how many good nights came from this bad boy.”

Yoongi’s frown becomes something a bit more disturbed as he sighs. “You know, there was a time I knew Taehyungie when he was sweet. Pure. Not corrupted by you and your… succubus powers.”

“If you’re jealous, just say so, hyung,” Jimin rolls his eyes, playful tilt to his voice. 

“What’s ‘succubus?’” Taehyung asks, eyebrows knitting together. “Is that contagious?” 

Jimin quickly shakes his head no, probably attempting to explain to Taehyung that he does not have an STD, but Jungkook decides it’s his turn to poke fun, so he tunes them out. Jungkook isn’t one for making fun of his hyung’s other than Jimin and Taehyung, but when it comes to Yoongi’s obliviousness, it’s deserved. 

“I bet Hobi hyung thinks you look cute in your uniform,” Jungkook smiles knowingly, making Yoongi turn a deep shade of red.

“And that would matter, why?” 

“Because you’re in love with him?” Jungkook suggests, which is the absolute truth. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have no attraction to him whatso—”

“Hello, virgins,” a boisterous voice interrupts them, bringing their attention to the front door. 

It’s him, Kim Seokjin, and Jungkook does his best not to visibly gag. He sucks it up in favor of Hoseok and Namjoon, who are also entering and whom Jungkook thinks is absolutely delightful. Some things are worth having to hang out with Seokjin for. It’s the price you pay for having the same inner circle as your sworn enemy.  

“Hi, hyung’s,” Taehyung smiles, way too happy for someone who’s just been called a virgin, but it’s Taehyung, so it’s expected. “Where are your big shoulders?”

“You mean the shoulder pads we wear for protective purposes during games?” Namjoon asks carefully. “We don’t just walk around like that, Tae.” 

“You should,” Taehyung shrugs. “Makes you look buff. Buffer than usual, anyways. Which, hey, speaking of, have you been working out, hyung? You can totally tell.”

“What I like most about Taehyungie is his lack of filter,” Hoseok says, completely genuine. Then, “What are you guys up to?”

“Making fun of Yoongi hyung, being surrounded by the smell of feet,” Jimin replies.

“You two are always bringing feet into things,” Namjoon points between Jimin and Taehyung warily. “It worries me.”

“I have an idea to get Horny and Hornier to shake their foot fetish,” Seokjin starts, only to be briefly interrupted by a hey, it’s not even that bad, from Taehyung. “Party tomorrow at the hockey house, you guys coming?” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Do you ever do homework? Sleep? Do something other than consuming alcohol?” he asks, tiredly. 

“Yes, mother.” Seokjin eyes him, laughing. “Do you do anything other than have a stick up your ass? Why are you always on my head?” 

“Because I don’t like you.”

“Tell us how you really feel, JK,” Seokjin cackles, completely unphased. He thinks Jungkook is funny. Jungkook thinks he’s annoying. 

“Ignore him,” Jimin says, “he has a personal issue because when you affectionately call us virgins he takes it to heart.” 

“Not true, I just literally don’t like you.”

And Jungkook is nothing if not honest. Because frankly, he doesn’t care if Kim Seokjin thinks he’s a complete asshole, and that’s the way their relationship works. They’re forced to hang out because of their mutual friends, Jungkook insults him, Seokjin thinks it’s funny, and then they get drunk at the same party. It’s not ideal considering Jungkook literally can’t stand him, but they manage. 

“Yeah, for whatever reason,” Seokjin says. “Anyway, you fuckers coming? I’m getting a keg.”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Yoongi starts, sighing. “I still haven’t completed that assignment from last week for my psychology class. You know, the one I didn’t finish after your useless costume party in the middle of February? I swear I just got over my hangover.”

“You were a cute cat, though, hyung,” Taehyung says. 

“Aw, c’mon, hyung.” Hoseok is pouting. “It’s more fun when you’re there. Who else am I supposed to make fun of the baseball team with?” 

It takes all but three seconds before Yoongi gives in. “Ok, whatever, I’ll come.” He shrugs like he’s not whipped for Hoseok. 

“Isn’t that just sweet?” Jimin snickers, on the verge of saying something to probably mortify Yoongi so he stops him.

“I’m just suddenly in the mood to get incredibly wasted. Probably because I’m constantly forced to be around you,” is Yoongi’s defense.

“That’s the spirit, hyung,” Namjoon encourages him. “I’m making a shotski. And I need enough friends to actually use it, so. Respectfully, I’m going to force you all to come and will not take no for an answer.”

“As if it’s not the hockey house, Joon,” Yoongi reminds him. “I don’t think you’re gonna have a problem finding people to drink your alcohol.”

“Taehyungie and I are coming,” Jimin says happily. “There are still some rooms in that house we haven’t tainted yet, so.”

“For sanitary reasons, I’m gonna pretend like I didn’t hear that,” Seokjin says, squinting at the two of them. He looks to Jungkook, “Kid? You in?”

“Kid,” Jungkook repeats, scoffing. “Metaphorically, no, because you’re going. But I do wanna try Joon hyung’s shotski. So literally, yes.”

“A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed.”

“Whatever,” Hoseok throws a hand at them in dismissal, “we gotta get going or coach’ll kill us for being late.” Then he’s looking at Yoongi as he says, “Watch me when we practice, yeah?”

“I always do,” Yoongi says helplessly, somehow ignoring the way the rest of the group nearly doubles over in laughter. 

“Well, there’s that,” Namjoon says with a nod. “We’ll see you guys.”

They part ways and everything else falls back into place; Jimin and Taehyung are way too close together to be deemed work sanctioned, Yoongi is impossibly whipped while watching Hoseok, and Jungkook looks to literally anywhere but Kim Seokjin; senior, hockey team captain, and sworn enemy. 

* * *

It’s noisy to a fault, walls bouncing back animated conversations and loud music, and the air is thick, wreaking with smoke and sexual frustration; the telltale signs of a party at the hockey house. 

The hockey team’s place is perfect for nights like these, obscured away from the main buildings on campus, and used only for parties. There are a bunch of rooms, Jungkook guesses some guys must’ve lived here at some point, but now they’re only used for convenience; couples looking for a quick fuck before they get back out for another round of shots. 

Jungkook’s had a lot of shots tonight. 

He’s gotten to the point in his alcohol consumption level where he’s going to have gaps in his memory when he wakes up, but he’ll at least be waking up without a hangover, so it’s a win. He’s accepted way too many drinks from his hyung’s—especially Namjoon and his persistence on using his shotski—but truthfully, Jungkook likes a good party, whether it was one initiated by Kim Seokjin or not. 

He’s also at the point where he’ll pretty much agree to anything, which should be dangerous, but luckily he has good friends who have never asked much of him. (Except for that one time Jimin and Taehyung made him stand in front of the bathroom door that wouldn’t lock while they fucked. Not any of their proudest moments.) But, his willingness to say yes right now meant that when Hoseok had so animatedly proposed they play truth or dare like a bunch of horny middle schoolers, he accepted. 

Jungkook’s sitting in a fairly small circle; he can recognize Hoseok and Yoongi, because obviously, where Hoseok goes Yoongi goes, along with a few other guys from the hockey team and girls Jungkook’s seen around here before, as well. He hasn’t seen Namjoon since his last shot of soju and he hasn’t seen Jimin and Taehyung since he got here, but truthfully, he doesn’t want to know where they are. He knows they’ll find him when they’re ready to head home and let him crash on their couch. 

“Ok,” Hoseok says, clapping his hands together. He’s enjoying the small amount of authority that comes with organizing trivial games like this a bit too much. “Yoongi hyung, truth or dare?”

Yoongi shrugs, giving a very Yoongi-answer of, “truth.”

“Is it true you’re a bottom?” Hoseok asks, having thought of it terrifyingly fast. 

“What the fuck?” Yoongi nearly chokes. “I changed my mind, I don’t wanna play. Or dare. Give me dare.”

“You can’t do that, hyung.” Jungkook points a finger at him devilishly because he’s drunk and genuinely thinks Yoongi deserves this. He’s been pining over Hoseok for far too long, public humiliation is the only option at this point. “That would be cheating. Against the rules and all that.”

“There’s no real fucking rules to this game to go against. Why’d I even agree to play it?” 

“Yeah, gee.” Jungkook shifts his gaze to Hoseok, who’s still focused on Yoongi. “I have no idea why you’d agree to play this, Yoongi hyung.” 

“Fuck off,” is all Yoongi says. 

“Answer the question, hyung,” Hoseok sing-songs. 

Poor Yoongi, the sympathetic part of Jungkook’s brain thinks. 

“Fuck off,” Yoongi swears again. Then, quietly, “It’s true.” 

“Noted,” Hoseok says. He winks at Yoongi and Jungkook can physically feel the sexual tension start to grow. Like, more so than usual. He shudders. “Anyways, you’re up. Pick someone.” 

Yoongi glances around at the group briefly before his eyes narrow in on Jungkook. “Oh, Jungkookie,” he says. Jungkook kind of hates the tone of his voice as he says it. 

“Don’t say my name like that.”

“Don’t talk to your hyung like that.”

“Yoongi-yah pulling the hyung card,” a disgustingly familiar voice suddenly joins in, “what’d you do to piss him off so bad, kid?” 

Kim Seokjin. Naturally. 

“Encouraged him to play fairly,” Hoseok answers for him through a tiny fit of giggles. 

“Yeah, hyung, it’s only the rules.” Jungkook shrugs. He does his best to ignore where Seokjin is making himself comfortable in the sparse room left on the couch in the space next to him. 

“Fine.” Yoongi shrugs back. Asks, “truth or dare?” 

And maybe it’s the adrenaline from pissing off Yoongi, maybe it’s the four shots he’s had in the past thirty minutes coursing through his veins, but Jungkook, very confidently, decides on—

“Dare. Bitch.”

“Ok, bitch.” Yoongi laughs. Jungkook kind of hates the sound of that laugh, too. “I dare you to kiss Jin hyung right now. With tongue.”

And that’s— no. 

“What—no!” Jungkook looks to Seokjin, before going back to Yoongi, before back to Seokjin. Seokjin looks smug, taking a long sip of the drink he’s holding, and raises an eyebrow slightly. 

“What happened to the rules, Jungkook-ssi?” Yoongi is mocking him. Remind him to never mess with Yoongi for as long as he fucking lives. 

“That was—before he got here,” is Jungkook’s lame excuse. 

“Ouch.” Seokjin holds a hand to his chest, feigning offense. 

Jungkook spares him only a glance as he mumbles, “fuck off.” 

Seokjin laughs. Of course, he fucking laughs. 

“Clocks ticking, JK,” Yoongi continues to taunt him.

“Yeah, c’mon, Jungkook-ah!” Hoseok is clapping again. “This is about to be extremely funny or weird hot so,” he gestures between the two of them, “kiss.”

“But he—“

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, you hate me,” Seokjin cuts him off, waving a hand in dismissal. “Now put your tongue in my mouth so we can move on.” 

“You—you’re—“ 

It’s the last bit of argument Jungkook can put up before Seokjin is rolling his eyes, setting his drink down on the sticky floor, and leaning into Jungkook’s space, all in what has to be just a millisecond. Jungkook can feel a strong hand cup his cheek and then there’s another on his thigh and then there’s lips—Kim Seokjin’s lips—and they’re on Jungkook’s, kissing him. 

It’s the alcohol, is what Jungkook thinks when he finds he immediately melts into it, seemingly put under a trance as Seokjin slowly works his mouth against Jungkook’s. Seokjin’s lips are soft and experienced, and it briefly makes Jungkook self-conscious about his own kissing, but that doesn’t last too long as Seokjin pushes his head back further, tongue swiping across his bottom lip as if to ask permission inside. Stupidly, probably, Jungkook opens his mouth to him, body working on autopilot. 

It’s like it’s not actually Seokjin, you know, Jungkook’s sworn enemy and biggest dick on the planet. Jungkook feels like he’s kissing—literally anyone else in the whole fucking world right now. Because Jungkook kind of wants it. Which he’s pretty sure he shouldn’t want from Seokjin. 

Distantly, Jungkook can hear his friends and other people around them cheer and laugh and make perpetually inappropriate remarks, but Jungkook can’t focus on it; not when Seokjin is doing all this, making Jungkook’s limbs slowly start to feel a little bit more like jelly with each flick of his tongue inside his mouth. The hand on his thigh is gripping a little tighter, only in the slightest, but it’s vaguely driving Jungkook crazy and it’s then that he realizes his own hands have been stuck onto his beer can this entire time, idiotically unaware of where to place them. 

Before he can move, maybe feel Seokjin like the latter’s feeling him, Seokjin pulls away, lips impossibly swollen and the prettiest shade of pink Jungkook has ever seen. He quickly scans Jungkook’s face and looks pleased once he has, hands retreating to his own drink as he looks to Yoongi. 

“Happy?” He quirks an eyebrow. 

Normally, that would piss Jungkook the hell off, but strangely, right now, it’s kind of turning him on. And shit—he thinks, he’s so doomed. 

“Happy,” Yoongi confirms, chuckling along with Hoseok. Both of them seem like they know something. Jungkook is suddenly very aware of the situation and feels like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Happy?” Seokjin repeats as he looks at Jungkook, tongue darting out to quickly lick his lips. Jungkook forces his gaze away from them. 

“Fuck off,” he musters. 

Smooth. 

And Seokjin laughs, leaning back into the old, beat-up couch, and takes another sip of his drink, enjoying the game as it continues to unfold. Jungkook, however, wills away the urge to look over at Seokjin’s mouth every forty-seven seconds and silently prays that it means nothing. 

* * * 

It’s the next morning when the alcohol has worn off and Jungkook has a knot in his stomach the size of Jupiter and the lingering feeling of Kim Seokjin’s lips against his own. 

Because yeah, that happened. 

Seokjin’s tongue down his throat. Jungkook not entirely hating it. Whatever all that means. 

Which is fine. Everything is fine. Jungkook can do this, he can handle Seokjin and the seemingly expert way his plush, rosy lips knew how to kiss Jungkook in a way that was just so right. He’s ok. He’s 100% not getting a boner thinking about it as he sits in his friends’ living room right now. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jimin says from his seat on the couch, barely visible underneath the hood of the sweatshirt he’s got on. It’s massive, most definitely his boyfriend’s, and is a major contrast to what said boyfriend is wearing, which is essentially nothing. 

“Well, I haven’t,” Jungkook replies, probably too suspiciously, but the reality of making out with Seokjin is starting to hit him and consequently, terrify him. “I've only seen you people. Are you ghosts? Did Taehyungie hyung murder you?” 

“Only thing I’d ever murder is that ass,” Taehyung says, gesturing to Jimin before he holds up a hand for a high five. 

Jimin indulges him as he brings his own hand up to hit Taehyung’s, though quickly moves on. “That’s exactly what I mean, Kook-ah. You’re acting weird. Did something happen last night before we left? Did you get laid?”

“Was it bad?” Taehyung finishes Jimin’s questions, “Was it that kid that always rides a razor scooter on campus?”

“What? No, I was with the hyung’s all night,” Jungkook shakes his head and that's—well, it's not a lie. He was with the hyung’s. And also… with a hyung. “That guy’s razor scooter is dope, by the way.”

“Fuck yeah, it is.” Taehyung giggles. “I’m saving up for one.” 

“If you didn’t get laid,” Jimin ignores them, “why do you look like… that?” 

“I don’t look like… anything. I look like Jungkook.”

“You look like a Jungkook who’s been through some shit.” 

“I’m friends with you two, that’s some shit.”

“Funny.” Taehyung blinks, he and Jimin’s eyes pouring into his own as they eat their attempt at breakfast. “But Jiminie’s right; something happened. You look guilty. Like that time I caught you masturbating.” 

“Fuck off. Like I haven’t caught you doing so much worse.” Jungkook scowls, pushing around the food at his plate. 

“Hey,” Jimin points a finger at him, “do not refer to me as much worse than your nasty hand.”

Admittedly, Taehyung’s got a point and also, Jungkook is starting to think if he doesn't unload this on someone soon, he’s going to maybe, quite possibly, lose his mind, so he sucks it up and gives in. 

“Fine,” he says. “I kissed… Seokjin hyung.” The confession is mumbled, said quickly through a helping of rice, because saying the words out loud is way scarier than he had thought. 

“You did what?” Taehyung asks, squinting in confusion. 

“I kissed Seokjin hyung,” he says again. He’s still chewing, so it’s more like a mess of words and less of actual coherent thought. 

“You missed who?” Jimin’s expression mirrors his paramours. 

“Seokjin.”

“Seokmin?” Jimin tries, “Who the hell is Seokmin?”

“Isn't he a goalie on the hockey team?” Taehyung muses. “Has that small dog he’s always bringing places?”

“No,” Jungkook groans, closing his eyes tight as he says, “I kissed Seokjin.” 

That time they hear him. 

It's quiet for a minute. Like, so quiet that it’s horrifying because Jungkook hasn’t heard Jimin or Taehyung be this quiet in all the time he’s known them. 

Then, Jimin laughs. Says, “You did what?” 

“I kissed Jin hyung.” 

“Who’s Jin hyung?” Taehyung asks, shaking his head. 

“Kim Seokjin? That Jin hyung. Hockey team Jin hyung.”

“Hockey team Jin hyung?” Jimin repeats. “Our Seokjin hyung? Why would you do that? Why would you lie to us right now?”

“I’m not lying, it was—we were playing truth or dare,” Jungkook elaborates. 

“So you were playing truth or dare and were dared to kiss him and you actually did it? Did someone have a gun to your head?” 

“Hyung!” Jungkook sighs exasperatedly. “Can you please work through it so you can help me work through it? I kissed Kim Seokjin and it wasn’t… bad.”

“Of course it wasn’t bad.” Taehyung scoffs. “Seokjin hyung is stupid hot. Have you seen his mouth?”

“Yes, I’ve seen it, Tae, it was literally on my own mouth,” Jungkook reminds him. “I’m freaking out about it.”

“Was he freaking out about it?” Jimin asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, no, he’s Seokjin hyung, of course, he wasn't—“

“Then you don’t need to freak out about it either,” Jimin finishes easily. “You’re a horny boy, Seokjin hyung is hot. You can go back to brewing your irrational, strange hatred for him. Although, maybe you guys should bang it out or something. Probably just your pent-up sexual frustration that you’re taking out on him in the form of hatred.”

“But isn’t that—weird?” Jungkook shakes his head, ignoring the last bit of Jimin’s explanation. “I mean, yeah, I hate him, but we hang out, and now his tongue’s been inside my mouth and I’m just supposed to look at him?”

“You think you’re the only one who’s kissed someone in our friend group?” Taehyung laughs. “I have it on good authority Yoongi hyung has kissed Joon hyung.”

“Isn’t Namjoon hyung straight?”

“Ever heard of a bro-job?” 

“I don’t wanna think about that right now,” Jungkook grimaces. “I don’t wanna think about any of this. Can we just pretend I never told you I kissed Jin hyung? Can we pretend like I never did it at all?”

“Sure.” Taehyung shrugs. “But before we do, I’d like to personally congratulate you. Everyone’s lining up to suck Jin hyung’s face. Yet, he sucked yours.”

“Please don’t say it like that.” Jungkook grimaces. 

“You know,” Taehyung ignores his previous plea, “maybe this could open a new door for you. No more hating Seokjin hyung. A new Jungkookie.” 

Jungkook doesn't say it, but when he can imagine Seokjin’s lips on his again, that’s exactly what he’s scared of. 

* * *

If he hadn’t been avoiding Kim Seokjin before, Jungkook can confidently say he’s doing it now. 

Avoids him like the plague. Takes the long way to get back to his room on Saturday after leaving Jimin and Taehyung’s to try and avoid passing by the athlete’s dorms and even gets up early on Sunday to go to the dining hall when he knows his friends—specifically his non-friend, Seokjin—won’t be there.

Because even though Jimin and Taehyung might’ve tried to talk him out of his confusion and fine , maybe sexual frustration, he was still super freaked out that he kissed Seokjin and liked it. 

It’s Monday now, days after The Incident, and Jungkook is attempting to get some work done at the library. 

Truthfully, he had a long day of classes and would’ve rather do nothing but play Overwatch with Taehyung until their eyes hurt, but Taehyung said he was busy helping Jimin study for bio, which Jungkook took as code for sex considering neither of them takes biology, and his own roommate’s girlfriend was over, so he was sexiled twice over. 

Library and doing actual work it is.

Despite his fatigue, Jungkook is kind of on a roll. Turns out putting all his confusion and vexation into his statistics homework is somewhat therapeutic. 

Until it isn’t. Until him.

Kim Seokjin.

“Jeon Jungkook!”

Jungkook hears him before he sees him, which is honest to god terrifying and also entirely obnoxious because they’re in a library. About fifteen people shush Seokjin before he’s finally in Jungkook’s eye line, smiling like a goddamn idiot. Jungkook internally panics but decides it’s too late to run now. 

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook greets him with.

“‘Hello’ to you, too,” Seokjin says, snickering as he takes the empty seat across from Jungkook. That’s not good. Does he think he’s staying? Why does he think he’s staying? “I’m here to do homework. Like everyone else in this fucking library. Why are you here? Are you doing meth or something?”

“What?” Jungkook shakes his head. He supposes it’s a joke, but nothing about any of this is funny. “I’m—I have homework. Why are you doing homework?”

“Probably because I’m a student and have deadlines and want to graduate,” Seokjin says like it’s obvious. Jungkook doesn’t see how it is. “Why is that so surprising to you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen you even with a book before. I just assumed your backpack always had like, a broken pencil and a monster energy drink in it.”

“You know just what to say to make a guy feel special, kid,” Seokjin says, reaching into his bag to pull out a textbook. Much to Jungkook’s surprise.

“Ok,” Jungkook says, defeated. “I guess my next question would be, why are you sitting here? With me. Don’t you have friends to sit with?” 

“Not really.” Seokjin looks around as if to double-check. “I wanna sit with you, anyway. I get work done faster when it feels like the person near me wants to murder me in my sleep.”

“Ha-ha.” 

“I know,” Seokjin says, “handsome and funny.”

“You left out annoying.”

“True,” Seokjin complies. “Handsome and funny and annoying, then. Also while we’re on the topic of describing my best attributes, we should probably add World Class Kisser, right?”

Jungkook officially wants to die. But first, he really does want to murder Seokjin in his sleep.

“I didn’t say that,” Jungkook says, keeping his eyes glued to his notebook in front of him. 

“You didn’t have to.” Seokjin laughs. “You’re blushing.”

“Fuck off, I am not,” Jungkook lies. He knows he’s blushing.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Seokjin starts, closing Jungkook’s notebook so he’s forced to look up at him, “I think you were pretty good, too.”

If Jungkook wasn’t red enough before, he’s got to be the color of a fucking fire engine now. 

“That’s… no. Fuck off, I don’t care,” he eloquently responds. 

“Fine.” Seokjin is laughing again. “I’m just saying I wouldn’t mind kissing you again. But, I know you’re very dedicated to hating me because I’m super athletic and sexy, so. No pressure.”

“Well, I don’t wanna kiss you again. That was a dare. And I hated it. Like I hate you,” Jungkook says firmly. 

“Then why have you been staring at my lips since I closed your notebook?” Seokjin asks and fuck Kim Seokjin and his beautiful pillow lips, Jungkook thinks.

“Trying to figure out how you’re constantly able to say more annoying shit.” Jungkook shrugs. His eyes quickly flash down to the pencil in his hand and he pretends like they’ve been there the whole time. 

“Nice save,” Seokjin says. Then, like the egoistic dick he is, “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

* * *

Jungkook finds him sooner than he promises himself. 

Again, he just wants to say that none of this would’ve happened had it not been for the two beers he had when he first got here. At least, that’s what Jungkook is telling himself as he lets Seokjin, Kim Seokjin, senior, hockey team captain, and sworn enemy, press him up against a wall hidden away in a hallway of the apartment of some girl Taehyung knows through his graphic design class. 

There are too many people here to do anything but really stand around, talk, and get willfully wasted, or if you’re Seokjin, find Jungkook in the kitchen and somehow persuade him that it’d be a good idea if they kissed again, just so they could get it out of their systems, promising him he’d be back in less time than Jimin and Taehyung could even realize he wasn’t back with their drinks. 

It had been twenty minutes since then. Jungkook is—regrettably—not complaining.

Because much to his dismay, Jungkook finds that Seokjin is probably the best kisser he has ever had the displeasure of locking lips with. He’s excited in a way that’s not too messy, knows exactly when to switch up the pace, and has a distinctly sweet flavor that is just so him, it’s driving Jungkook crazy. 

Seokjin’s lips are everywhere and Jungkook feels dizzy, tipping his head back as the older places open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat, no doubt leaving a few marks in their wake. It should be embarrassing, the way Jungkook is just letting Seokjin run his mouth all over him, especially in the middle of this party, but Jungkook thinks they’re secluded enough that none of his hyung’s will walk by, and everyone else who might see probably figures it’s just another hookup for Seokjin. 

“You smell good,” Seokjin tells him, pulling his lips away from Jungkook’s neck for only a minute. “Kinda sweet.”

“Whatever, asshole,” Jungkook responds, grabbing hold of Seokjin’s face to connect their lips again. Jungkook has been coping with the events of tonight by peppering in some insults just to keep his conscience at ease. 

“You’re welcome, bitch.” Seokjin snickers in between kisses, tugging on Jungkook’s bottom lip as he does so. 

“Hngh—” Jungkook groans in an attempt to regain his bottom lip. “If I wanted to be complimented I would be talking to Hobi right now. Just kiss me.”

“Trying to be a gentleman,” is Seokjin’s excuse. 

His hands slip from where they’re cupping Jungkook’s face and run down his body, stopping right before the curve of his ass. One of Seokjin’s hands finds its way into the back pocket of Jungkook’s jeans and just stays there, comfortably.

“Because feeling me up in this hallway is so gallant.” 

“So we’re just gonna ignore the elephant in the room?” Seokjin raises an eyebrow, bringing up his leg to press in between Jungkook’s legs. 

“Fucker,” Jungkook mutters. “Like you’re not enjoying this, too.”

“No, I am.” Seokjin presses another lazy kiss to the underside of Jungkook’s jaw. “I definitely am.”

Jungkook can actually feel his knees go a bit wobbly and in a moment of weakness, he swallows thickly, voice quiet as he suggests, “We could… take care of it.” He gestures vaguely to the open door further down the hall. It’s a bathroom, Jungkook’s pretty sure. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” Seokjin sounds indignant, “what the hell do you take me as?” 

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just—we’ve been—“ Jungkook panics, suddenly nervous that he’s insulted Seokjin. Though, he’s not sure why he’s nervous. He still hates Seokjin. 

“I’m fucking with you, kid,” Seokjin says, kisses him again. His lips graze Jungkook’s ear as he mumbles, “C’mon.” 

The next few moments happen fast, starting with Seokjin’s hand grabbing hold of Jungkook’s, dragging him in the direction of the bathroom. The door is shut behind him before the lights are even flicked on, and then Seokjin is backing him up against the sink. Jungkook is not entirely proud of where this is going, but we all disappoint ourselves eventually, so he figures by the hands of Kim Seokjin only seems fitting. 

Seokjin’s lips meet his once more, his hands at Jungkook’s waist, thumbs teasing underneath the latter’s sweatshirt, rubbing circles on the soft skin there. And it’s the slightest bit of contact, just barely skin on skin, but it sends sparks inside of Jungkook, electric coming out of every limb, feeding back into Seokjin like an endless cycle. The bathroom is suddenly hot, way hotter than the hallway and Jungkook can literally feel the way his pants are getting tighter and tighter as the anticipation grows. 

“Are you sure this is ok?” Seokjin asks, his hands creeping around the front of Jungkook’s waist to where the button of his jeans is. 

Jungkook nods, mumbling a yes into Seokjin’s mouth. “Is it ok with you? Because I know we were just messing around. I don’t want this to make things… weird.”

“Not weird,” Seokjin says, shaking his head. “What’s weird is you hating me for no reason. Nothing weird about two guys helping each other out. Bro job’s, JK.” 

“What is it with you people and bro jobs?” 

Seokjin kisses him instead of a verbal response, hands deftly unbuttoning Jungkook’s pants, taking his zipper down in no time. 

“Hand or mouth?” Seokjin’s asking, like this is something casual, like what they’re ordering for dinner. 

“Hand,” Jungkook responds despite himself. “Wanna keep kissing you.” 

“Boring,” Seokjin teases, with a quick peck to the corner of his mouth before tugging his jeans down just barely. He somehow manages to hoist Jungkook onto the counter, which Jungkook tries not to think too much about because that’s suddenly a major turn on, settling himself in between Jungkook’s legs. “Ready, babe?” 

Babe. 

It’s natural the way he says it. Falls off Seokjin’s tongue like it was made for just the two of them. Jungkook is totally screwed. 

“Mhmm,” Jungkook hums, lips chasing Seokjin’s who pulls away. 

“Need to hear you say it,” he says, a smirk playing at the end of his lips. “Yes or no?” 

“Yes, oh my god,” Jungkook groans, leaning back on his hands. “Motherfucker.” 

“Consent is sexy,” Seokjin reasons, one of his hands slowly trailing up Jungkook’s thighs. He thumbs at the inside seam of Jungkook’s jeans, dangerously close to where Jungkook needs an absurd amount of relief. 

“I know that.” Jungkook huffs. “Now touch me.” 

To that, Seokjin laughs, like the asshole he is, and then brings his lips to Jungkook’s as his hand dips into his underwear, eliciting a sharp gasp from the younger as Seokjin wraps a hand around him. Jungkook is quite literally frozen, Seokjin attempting to keep his mouth held in a kiss as Jungkook’s lips part, a whine slipping out. Seokjin’s barely done anything, but Jungkook is already feeling way too overwhelmed. He’s well aware of how embarrassingly quick he’s about to come. 

“Still good?” Seokjin asks, kissing Jungkook’s cheek. 

“Yes,” Jungkook confirms, nodding. “Move your hand.”

“You’re so bossy,” Seokjin says, laughing again. He drags his hand slowly up Jungkook’s length and then pulls his hand out, not even thinking twice as he spits into his palm, bringing himself back to Jungkook. 

“That was so gross,” Jungkook tells him, ignoring the way his raging boner says otherwise, whining again as Seokjin slides his hand up and down with more ease. 

“I like it dirty.” Seokjin is teasing, because what else would he do, digging a thumb into the tip as he does. 

“Holy shit,” Jungkook mumbles, struggling to take hold of Seokjin’s cheeks to guide their lips together again, in an attempt to mute whatever noises might slip out. 

Their mouths work together at the same pace Seokjin’s hand does, methodically, slowly, a bit roughly. Jungkook’s tongue is licking into Seokjin’s mouth, the noises between them that are filling the room driving Jungkook mad. He manages to trap Seokjin’s lip between his teeth—payback for before—and grows extremely satisfied with the whine it draws from the older, needy, just like Seokjin’s seemingly convinced himself that’s all Jungkook is capable of being. 

“Oh, fuck.” Jungkook drops his head back, letting it knock against the cabinet behind him. Seokjin takes this as an opportunity to attack his neck again. “That’s—so good. Don’t stop.” 

“You seriously think I would stop right now?” Seokjin cackles. “You think so little of me, angel.” 

“It’s—Jungkook.” 

“I know,” Seokjin says, kissing the crinkle in between Jungkook’s brows. “You’re pretty, though. Pretty names for a pretty boy.” 

“That might work for everyone else on campus you’ve slept with—but, not—“ Jungkook’s finding it harder to speak as he gets closer and closer, “not me. Dick.” 

Seokjin hums, tightening his grip on Jungkook just the slightest in retaliation. “Interesting choice of pet name, but expected when it comes to you.” 

“Stop talking. Your voice is turning me off,” Jungkook lies. He’s so close to coming in Seokjin’s hand. 

Surprisingly, Seokjin doesn’t say anything else, just kisses him again, letting Jungkook chase his high. 

“I’m—fuck—I’m gonna come. Like, right the fuck now.” Jungkook is groaning, head dropping to rest on Seokjin’s shoulder and—have they always been this broad?

“Do it,” Seokjin urges, kissing the side of Jungkook’s head. “Come for me, babe.” 

“It’s not—“ Jungkook starts to protest, but the complaint is lost in a mess of moans, his head dropping back again, once more hitting the medicine cabinet. That would probably hurt if it hadn’t been for the way Seokjin was so skillfully bringing him to completion. Jungkook catches his breath, chest heaving as he blinks through the literal stars he’s seeing. 

“Shit,” Seokjin says, slowly removing his hand from Jungkook. “You’re hot when you’re coming.” 

Jungkook lifts his head, eyes darting between Seokjin and his hand. His stomach twists in pleasure at the sight. However, he acts on instinct as he says, “You’re so annoying.” 

“Not even a ‘thank you?’” Seokjin laughs, flicking the water on behind Jungkook to run his hands under it. “I just jerked you off in the bathroom of some girl I might have hooked up last month and that’s how you repay me?” 

“Yes,” Jungkook says, still dazed, then shakes his head. “I mean, no. Sorry. Can I…” He gestures to Seokjin’s bulge, raising an eyebrow. 

“Nah, it’s cool.” Seokjin shakes his head, shrugging. 

“But you’re—hello?” 

“Hey,” Seokjin nods at him. He’s so dumb. “You can just get me next time.” 

“Next time?” Jungkook repeats, scoffing. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to ignore how sticky he feels. He may have only gotten here an hour ago, but he already needs to go home and shower. “You’re so confident about a next time? I didn’t even want there to be a this time.” 

“Are you sure about that? Because my hand on your boner three minutes ago says differently.” 

“Exactly why I don’t want a next time, dickhole.” 

“Charming,” Seokjin says, chuckling. It's almost a giggle. Jungkook pretends like it’s not cute. “If you want a next time. I would be down. If you wanna go back to never interacting with me unless you’re forced to, I would also be down. Your call, kid.” 

“My name is Jungkook,” he says nearly immediately. “And I’ll… whatever. I know I’ll see you regardless if I want to or not. So.”

“Right, because all that made sense to me,” Seokjin says, obviously sarcastic. “Just something to think about.” 

Truthfully, Jungkook wants to do nothing but avoid thinking about it. 

* * * 

Game day is the only day The Icebox sees more action than practice days. It’s subtle, not like Jungkook needs to do anything other than making sure the toilet in the third stall is flushing normally, but the energy is a lot better. Not a stale stillness but a more enthusiastic buzz and the chatter of semi-drunk college students who plan to celebrate whether the team wins or not. Any excuse to get wasted midday. 

Jungkook and Taehyung (and naturally, Jimin) are at the concession stand today, pretending like the popcorn in front of them hasn’t been sitting there for seven months and praying the Slurpee machine doesn’t break for the fourth time that week. As always, the radio is blasting some song from way before anyone in here was born, but it’s lost to their ears under the heated conversation they’re currently engaged in. Much to Jungkook’s dismay, anyway. 

“So what you’re saying is,” Jimin says, leaning forward on the stool he’s sitting on on the other side of the counter, “you’ve decided to become a whore.” 

Jungkook groans, trying to think of why he thought it’d be a good idea to tell Jimin and Taehyung about him and Seokjin’s little party rendezvous in the first place. All they’ve done since he told them is giggle, crack some immature jokes, ask way too many personal questions, and then repeat. Sometimes Jungkook forgets who’s actually older. 

“No,” Jungkook says with firmness to his voice. “I quietly hooked up with Jin hyung, in private, and dutifully moved on with the rest of the party. Don’t try and slut-shame me.”

“I’m not slut-shaming you, I’m extremely impressed,” Jimin defends. “Just can't wrap my head around it. I mean, Jin hyung? You going back for more Jin hyung? It doesn’t seem plausible. What have you done with my Jungkookie? My sweet boy, who likes anime boobs and Marvel conspiracy theories?” 

“Liking anime boobs is considered sweet?” Taehyung asks, but they both ignore him as Jungkook responds. 

“Nothing. I’m still—I still hate him. It's just… two people helping each other out.”

“Bro job’s, I can dig.” Taehyung nods at him. 

“So you guys are like. A thing like that now?” Jimin raises an eyebrow. 

Jungkook glances at the way Jimin subtly has Taehyung’s hand in his, resting in the space between them on the counter. The image brings Jungkook back to Seokjin’s hands grabbing his own, dragging him to the bathroom back at the party. Something weird lurches in Jungkook’s stomach as he shrugs. 

“Not an official thing. Sure as hell not a thing like you two are a thing.” Jungkook busies himself with organizing some straws, suddenly feeling undefended. “Maybe we’ll keep fucking around. He asked if I wanted to but I—I’m not committing.”

“Committing to fucking around,” Jimin repeats with a scoff. “You’re unbelievable. The point of fucking around is there’s no committing at all. You do it when you want. Dipshit.” 

“Fuck you.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying. It's still Jin hyung and he’s still annoying.”

“Yeah, yeah, we got that.” Jimin nods, rolling his eyes back. “Super jock, sworn enemies, blah, blah, blah.” 

“I think it’s kinda funny,” Taehyung tells him with a shrug. “Like, Jin hyung has slept with more people than any of us combined yet he’s trying to lock you down. You must be a better kisser than I remember.”

“First of all, we kissed once, both extremely drunk, so the fact that you can even vaguely remember is admirable. I don’t remember anything except Jimin hyung being way too into it.” Jungkook points an accusing finger at Jimin who simply shrugs. “Second of all, he’s not trying to ‘lock me down.’ He’s just… annoying. And likes making me flustered.” 

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a look, one of their creepy couple looks where they can tell exactly what the other is thinking without saying it, and it makes Jungkook nervous. He’s not an idiot, not new to any casual hookups either, but why does it seem like they can see something Jungkook can’t? He hates it. He also hates them, he decides. 

Before they can explain, however, their attention is brought elsewhere, a distinct, loud laugh heading in their direction. 

“Jin hyung,” Jimin spins on his stool, smiling smugly. Like the asshole he is, he says, “We were just talking about you.” 

It’s him and Namjoon, both with their bags over their shoulders, coming down from a giggle fit over something Jungkook can only imagine was the world’s most idiotic joke. He knows from experience that Seokjin has a lot of those. 

“Ooh,” Seokjin laughs some more, “hope it was good things. Like my endlessly good looks or irresistible charm.”

“Neither,” Jungkook deadpans. 

Seokjin’s eyes narrow with something that both terrifies and, admittedly, kind of arouses Jungkook. “Suck a dick, princess.” 

“Well, you guys already—“ Taehyung starts, giggle hidden behind his words, but Jungkook quickly cuts him off for the sake of his dignity. 

“Where’s Hobi hyung?” 

Jimin gives him a look. Nice save, it silently tells him. 

“With Yoongi,” Namjoon says like it’s obvious. It should be. “Flirting as usual. I have no idea how Yoongi hyung can be so dense, Hoseokie has never been more forward in his entire life.” 

“A taste of his own medicine,” Jimin cackles. “As if the entire campus hasn’t been flirting with Hoseok since he started here. And he just thinks everyone’s being nice.”

“Because people constantly asking for your number is just being nice,” Namjoon says sarcastically. Then, “Anyway, we just wanted to say hi, but. We should probably head back.” 

“Good luck, hyung’s,” Taehyung smiles. “I placed a bet on you guys winning with some kid I know from the opposing school. We’re Xbox friends but he’s a fucking weirdo. Anyway, don’t disappoint me.”

“You need to stop betting on things with random people on the internet, baby,” Jimin is shaking his head, “that’s how my grandma’s last boyfriend went to jail.”

“Don't you worry, our dear Taehyungie,” Seokjin says, “It’s me we’re talking about. I always win.”Jungkook rolls his eyes, before Seokjin leans onto the counter, into his space. “And if I’m not mistaken, I think you still owe me.” Seokjin flicks his eyes below the counter, obvious where he’s referring to. “If I win, I might wanna cash in that favor. If you’re down, you know. Just find me.”

Jungkook feels his face burn up because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it— holy shit, he kind of really wants Seokjin to cash in that favor. 

“Asshole,” he decides to mutter. “Win first and then we’ll see.” 

“Like I said,” Seokjin shrugs, “I always win.” 

* * * 

The team wins six to four. 

Seokjin cashes in his favor. 

It’s not Jungkook’s proudest moment, but lately, he’s had a lot of shameful ones, so really, no one is surprised.

With the help of a way too giddy Hoseok and a mildly disturbed Namjoon, he found Seokjin in the locker room. Left Taehyung, Jimin, and Yoongi up front under the guise that he was going to clean up back there, though they all knew that was a lie. 

Like he said, a lot of shameful moments. 

Now, there’s a thick lock digging into the bottom of his back as Seokjin holds him in place by his hips, kissing him as if his life depends on it. Jungkook’s hands are in the athlete’s hair, only moderately aware of how gross Seokjin is because he’s still sweaty from the game, but it’s even grosser that Jungkook doesn’t mind in the slightest. In a way he’s scared to admit, it’s actually making Seokjin more attractive. 

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks against Seokjin’s lips, thankful for the brief moment he’s able to regain air as he asks. 

Seokjin hums as if he’s thinking. “I don’t know,” he mumbles. “‘m still kinda shocked you even came.”

Jungkook scoffs, pressing a kiss to Seokjin’s jaw. “Why’s that?”

“Because you hate me,” Seokjin reminds him, laughing. 

Jungkook nips at his neck then meets his gaze. “I do.”

“Hence why I’m surprised, kid.” 

Jungkook shrugs, biting his lip. He lets himself look at Seokjin, really look, and genuinely feels like he’s got the wind knocked out of him. Because Seokjin is beautiful, something that maybe Jungkook’s known all along but always did his best to ignore. His eyes are shining, and his features are sharp and soft where they need to be, and his god-forsaken mouth is sticking out in an understated pout, and Jungkook feels extremely unwell. 

“I don’t know,” Jungkook says, because honestly, what is he doing here? “You’re annoyingly hot.”

Seokjin laughs, loud and short and then he nods. “So we agree on some things.” 

“Shut up, oh my god.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, but Seokjin’s smiling so he’s not bothered. “Are you gonna cash in your favor now or what? I’m tired of talking.” 

“We were barely talking.”

“Exactly my point.”

“Yes, I wanna cash in my favor,” Seokjin confirms, leaning in again. “That’s why I asked for you, remember?” 

Seokjin’s voice is hushed, the words said against Jungkook’s ear. Jungkook tries his best not to visibly shudder. “I remember,” he tells him, the hand that had been tangled up in Seokjin’s hair trailing down his body. “Can I?” Jungkook raises a brow, movements paused right at the hem of Seokjin’s sweatpants. 

“Be my guest,” Seokjin allows, almost comically, as Jungkook takes his mouth in another kiss, cupping him through the thin material of his pants, testing the waters. 

Jungkook is—definitely not disappointed. 

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, feeling the way Seokjin stiffens more in his hand. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Jungkook says quickly, embarrassed. “Just… a lot.” 

An obnoxiously self-satisfied smile creeps across the taller’s face. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“Stop,” Jungkook says, well aware of how his face is most likely beet red. “Can I suck you off?”

“In here?” Seokjin looks around, incredulous. “Fuck, JK.”

“What?” Jungkook nearly whines. “No one’s coming in. There’s barely anyone left here.” 

“I know that,” Seokjin says, way too casual despite the way Jungkook is still stroking him through his sweats. “Just kinda… dirty. Like in a sexy sense and also a sanitary sense.” 

“Whatever,” Jungkook shakes his head, not caring too much about that right now. While working here he’s unfortunately seen way more nasty things than the thought of kneeling on this floor right now. Plus, he’s kind of dying to see what exactly Seokjin’s packing. “Do you wanna?”

“Yes, I wanna,” Seokjin agrees almost immediately. “As long as it’s what you want.” 

Jungkook kisses him. “It is.” Another kiss. “Now no more talking. You’ll ruin it.” 

He backs Seokjin against the other set of lockers, giving him one last messy kiss before he’s on his knees. The floor is strangely sticky, but the anticipation and nerves building inside him are enough to distract him. 

He ignores the way his hands shake as he tugs down Seokjin’s pants and then his boxers and then Seokjin’s just there and yeah, it’s a lot more without the confines of cotton material and Jungkook has to actively remind himself it’d be weird to stare. 

“Like what you see, babe?” Seokjin has the nerve to be cocky now. 

“Can you fuck off?” Jungkook manages, stomach twisting in excitement as Seokjin laughs. He leans in, giving a curious lick along the underside of Seokjin’s dick, eliciting the prettiest moan Jungkook’s ever heard. 

And yeah, Jungkook thinks, Seokjin’s not the only one who won today. 

* * * 

The air is hazy, much like Jungkook’s brain as he sits at Hoseok and Namjoon’s place, squeezed onto what he thinks is a loveseat, with Jimin and Taehyung to his left. His limbs feel heavy, but a good heavy, and he’s been watching his hyung’s engage in a heated game of Candy Land, apart from Jimin and Taehyung who are whispering god knows what to each other, a mess of limbs and quiet kisses. 

He’s smoked maybe more than he planned, but Hoseok had invited them over with the intent of getting rid of all of it before they did room checks for athletes next week, so it’s excused. Besides, Jungkook’s had a longer week than he anticipated. Way too many deadlines sneaking up on him, way too many homework assignments issued out. Not to mention he found himself at Seokjin’s place not once, but three times.  

Because, yeah, that’s a thing now. 

Thing being nothing, by the way, because Jungkook is very much capable of fooling around with the guy that he hates. It’s just like Seokjin has some type of magnetic pull on Jungkook. Even if he tells himself he detests him, he can’t help but always want more. It’s infuriating, but Jungkook hasn’t felt this good in terms of hookups in a while, so he ignores his self brewing hatred for the sake of another orgasm. 

Not for the first time, he glances over at Jimin and Taehyung, lost in their own world. Sometimes, when they’re just hanging out like this, or when he stays the night at their place, or Jimin visits Taehyung at work, Jungkook wonders if he’ll ever have someone like that. If he ever could. Someone to always go to and share your day with and just be yourself with, in a way that’s different than when you’re with your friends or family. Because of course, he’s dated before, but none of it ever really got past the point of physical needs. He wonders if that’s why it never works out. If he always pulls away before it can go deeper. He wonders if he’ll ever get over it. 

He wonders if Seokjin’s ever had someone like Jimin and Taehyung have each other. Wonders if he ever—

No, that’s weird, Jungkook quickly stops himself. Because why would he ever care about what Seokjin’s done, not only ever, but involving his love life? 

He feels dizzy all of a sudden. His throat’s dry. His stomach feels uneasy. He looks at Seokjin and the feeling almost gets worse. 

Jungkook quickly decides he’s had too much to smoke. 

“I’m going to the ‘sill,” Jungkook says in the general direction of the room. 

He needs air, probably. That’ll solve whatever his ugly brain is suggesting right now. 

His hyung’s mumble a collective response, too engrossed in their game to look up for more than a second. 

The ‘sill is a windowsill, a giant one that only Hoseok and Namjoon’s dorm has, and it has the perfect ledge for sitting, to gaze out at the rest of campus. It’s kind of nice, especially when they’re smoking and need to air out the room before anyone can notice what’s going on in there. 

Also, a great place to clear your head. 

Jungkook perches himself in the corner, glancing out onto the street below. It’s quiet, probably because it’s past ten on a Sunday night. Jungkook likes it when it’s quiet. Sometimes he needs a break from the constant noise. 

“Hey,” a voice snaps him out of his reverie. Speaking of constant noise. 

“What do you want?” 

It’s Seokjin. 

“To sit here.” Seokjin laughs, sitting opposite of Jungkook. “You’re not the only person who likes breathing air.” 

Jungkook hums, eyes scanning the older as he makes himself comfortable. He’s wearing his hockey sweatshirt and right where the collar exposes his skin, Jungkook can make out two very distinct marks that he knows he left. His hair is a mess. He looks tired, but it could also just be from smoking. Jungkook tries his best not to think how adorable he looks. 

“Whatever,” he manages to pull himself out of it to respond. For his own sake, Jungkook brings his gaze back out the window, hoping Seokjin wants no further conversation. 

Of course, that’s never the case. 

“It’s pretty,” he says. Jungkook looks over at him with a curious look.

“What is?”

“The sky. Look at the moon.”

“Why would I look at the moon?”

“Because it’s pretty, asshole.” Seokjin gestures to the window. “You never look at the moon?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Not particularly.”

“Shame,” Seokjin mumbles. “It’s the best part about nighttime.”

“I didn’t know you thought about stuff like that,” Jungkook admits.

“That’s because you think I’m a self-serving son of bitch, which is only partially true,” Seokjin tells him. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, kid.” 

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say to that. When he doesn’t respond, Seokjin starts again, “What’s your favorite part? About nighttime?”

Jungkook is suddenly curious as to whether Seokjin is always like this and he’s just never held a conversation long enough to know or if it’s the weed talking. He tells himself it’s the weed. 

“The sky,” Jungkook finds himself answering honestly. 

“The sky,” Seokjin repeats. “Why?”

“Because it’s pretty, asshole,” Jungkook parrots Seokjin’s words from before, attempting to mock his voice. 

“I don’t sound like that.”

“You so do,” Jungkook counters. “It is pretty, though. It can be different colors. Black or dark blue or if there are clouds, it can be kinda gray. Endless, too. Makes me feel small, sometimes, though.” Jungkook isn’t too sure why he’s sharing, almost feels a bit embarrassed about it, but then he can see Seokjin nodding like he genuinely understands. 

“I get it,” he tells him. “There’s a lot of possibilities out there.”

“Yeah,” is all Jungkook can say. 

He looks at Seokjin and then back to the sky. He feels small right now, smaller than he should, maybe. 

They don’t say much else after that, which Jungkook is happy about, the only sounds coming from the extreme game of Candy Land that seems to have transformed into something even more serious. 

Jungkook spots Jimin and Taehyung again and somehow feels even smaller. 

Later that night, Seokjin goes home with him, insults falling back into place where they should, both of them allowing lust to get the best of them. When he leaves, though, retreating to his side of campus, satiated and tired, Jungkook falls asleep with the blind open, looking up at the moon. 

He thinks of Seokjin and feels a bit bigger.

* * *

Jungkook’s been flicking an eraser around all afternoon. 

The Icebox was quiet today, as per usual, once more leaving Jungkook, Taehyung, and Yoongi to their own devices. No hockey practice or Seungyeon visiting. Just pure unadulterated eraser flicking. The disco song on the radio is a repeat; Jungkook is sure he knows some of the words, but they’re not paying attention. Not when Yoongi says—

“I fucked Hoseok last night.”

Taehyung pauses mid-flick. “Hoseok hyung? Like Hobi?”

“Yes, asshole. What other Hoseok would I be talking about?”

“I don’t know any other Hoseok’s,” Taehyung says with a shrug to his shoulders, “this just seems like the farthest thing from what I expected our conversations were gonna be today.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Yoongi scowls.

“It means you two have been dancing around each other since you met.” Jungkook laughs, watching as Taehyung finally releases the flick he’d been holding back. “How was it? Are you gonna do it again?”

“It was good, obviously.” Yoongi huffs. “I don’t know if we’re gonna do it again, I mean—” he pauses, eyebrows knitting together in thought. “We both enjoyed it, so I don’t see why we wouldn’t.”

“Bastard.” Taehyung smirks. “How’d that even happen? You take him home to yours? We were all at Hoseokie hyung’s last night. Is Min Yoongi smoother than we all thought?”

“Fuck you guys, I have excellent game.”

“Right, because stumbling over your words every time you interact with him is ‘excellent game.’”

“Relax,” Yoongi moves on, “Joon-ah went out after everyone left. Something about wanting to walk by the river. You know how he gets when we get stoned.” They nod, they do know how he gets. “Anyway, we were hanging back and it just… happened.”

“Good for you, hyung,” Taehyung pats him on the back with more force than he probably intended. “It’s been a long time coming. Maybe you guys can like, regularly fuck now and stop suffocating us with your tension.”

“Not entirely accurate, Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi says warily. “You and Jiminie have been fucking for years and it’s still suffocating to be around you two.”

“That’s just our undying love for each other,” is Taehyung’s reasoning. “Besides, it worked for Seokjin hyung and Jungkookie. They fuck all the time now and it’s way more bearable being around them.”

“We do not fuck,” Jungkook is quick to correct. Because it’s true. 

They haven’t slept together, not yet at least. Jungkook thinks they’re maybe one blowjob away from going all the way, but as of right now, they still haven’t. Maybe it’s crossing a line. Makes things more real. 

“Might as well,” Taehyung tells him. “You do everything else under the sun together. Put his dick where it matters.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Yoongi asks, exasperated. Taehyung just shrugs.

“It’s not that serious.” Jungkook waves a hand at them. “Plus, I don’t think I really wanna. I mean, he’s good so far, like, with everything else but. Might be weird if we do. Weirder than it already is.”

“What’s so weird about screwing the guy that you hate for no apparent reason?” Yoongi is being sarcastic. Jungkook rolls his eyes. 

“Nothing, actually,” he informs them. “He’s a good kisser. That’s it.”

“Never have I been so whipped for someone I kept going back just to make out with them.” Taehyung shakes his head before a wide smile creeps across his face. “Oh, that’s right. I have. My fucking boyfriend. Who I am absolutely into? Maybe that’s something you should consider.”

“I am not into Seokjin hyung.” 

“And Yoongi hyung’s not getting a boner replaying what happened last night in his head.”

“Fuck you, Kim Taehyung.”

“I second that.” Jungkook points at Yoongi. “I’m not into him. Nor will I ever be. Sworn enemy, how many times do I have to remind you guys?”

His friends mumble agreements in reply, dismissing the current conversation and moving on. Deep down, Jungkook is kind of thankful. He’s starting to think he might be trying to remind more than his friends. 

* * *

There’s a thin layer of sweat forming on Jungkook’s brow as he bites his lip so hard he thinks it might draw blood. He dares to glance down, where he is, Seokjin, lips wrapped devilishly around Jungkook’s length, bringing him so close to pleasure he thinks he might cry. He thinks it’s because he hasn’t been with Seokjin like this in almost five days, which considering how frequently they’ve been meeting up lately, seems like an eternity. 

He showed up at Seokjin’s in record time when he had texted him explaining his roommate was out for the night and he finally some free time on his hands. Jungkook made sure he put his hands to good use. 

Well—mouth. 

“I’m gonna come,” Jungkook says quickly, not able to trust his voice right now. 

Seokjin’s hands are strong, holding his hips down to keep Jungkook from thrusting up, just like they both know he wants to do so badly right now. 

Seokjin pulls off, tongue swiping across the plush of his bottom lip. His voice is sort of hoarse as he says, “I can tell. You’re doing that thing where you start to hold back on making noise because it’s getting that good.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” Jungkook tells him, even though the idea of Seokjin picking up on Jungkook’s habits like that is doing something funny to his insides.

“Actually, I was just kinda full of you,” Seokjin corrects him, taking his cock in his hand and pumping slowly. 

“Can you just finish? I know I’m above begging, but I’m really about to start begging.”

“I’d actually like to see that,” Seokjin kisses the inside of his thigh.”But another time.” He kisses a little harder. “You don’t have to hold back, by the way. You sound sexy.”

Jungkook goes to respond, say something snarky to cover up the way his face immediately blushes, but then Seokjin’s sinking down on him again, and the words get lost in the whine that escapes his lips instead. 

It’s only a matter of minutes until he finishes, unable to stop himself from turning into a moaning mess, filling Seokjin’s mouth as he comes. When Seokjin pulls off, Jungkook is too dazed to see if he swallows or not, but at this point, his brain is too foggy to care. He’d been hard since he jacked Seokjin off earlier; coming now was the best relief he could ask for. 

“Good?” Seokjin asks. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and Jungkook fights every urge to tell him how disgusting that is. Seokjin did just suck him off, after all, so he figures it’s only the polite thing to do. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, leaning up on the backs of his elbows. “Was good.” He releases the tight grip he hasn’t realized he had on Seokjin’s sheets, letting out a sigh. 

“Cool,” Seokjin says, a little too casually probably, leaning off the bed and heading over to his closet. He pulls out a sweatshirt, nearly identical to the one he has on, but proceeds to change. Jungkook does his best not to stare at the way he’s shirtless underneath. “You wanna smoke?”

“Right now?” Jungkook raises a brow. “With you?”

“No, with my neighbor, I’ll drop you off,” Seokjin deadpans. He crosses the room to a drawer and starts pulling out the necessary supplies before Jungkook can even respond. “With me, fucker. What, you can put your mouth on my dick but you draw the line at getting high just the two of us?”

“No,” Jungkook denies. “Just didn’t expect it. I’ll stay. For a little.”

Seokjin hums standing up at his dresser as he sets them up. Jungkook figures now would be a good enough time to make himself look more decent, considering his pants are somewhere at the foot of the bed and instead he’s been watching Seokjin walk around fully clothed. 

Once Seokjin’s finished, he pulls up his phone for some music. It’s a song Jungkook doesn’t think he’s heard before, and it sounds sad, not at all like something he assumed Seokjin would listen to. He wonders if he always listens to music like that and all the party playlists he constantly seems so excited about are just for show. 

It’s quiet after that, the both of them probably too tired from their previous activities. In a way, one that definitely doesn’t involve Kim Seokjin, Jungkook thinks this is nice. The music is calming and he’s starting to feel simultaneously lighter but weightier, whatever else he had been thinking about seeming like a lifetime away. He looks over at Seokjin, who looks like he’s deep in thought, eyebrows furrowed together as he sits with the joint between his fingers. Jungkook wants to lean over and kiss him, but he thinks they’ve probably done enough of that for today so decides against it.

Instead, he decides to ask, “What are you thinking about?”

“What do you care?” Seokjin asks back. There’s no bite to his words, though. He’s smiling most barely, eyes as rich and kind as ever. 

“I don’t know.” Jungkook shrugs as Seokjin passes him the joint. “You look like you’re thinking hard. So, I was just wondering.”

“You think I don’t think,” Seokjin says like it’s a fact. “Is that it?”

“No. Not necessarily.”

Seokjin moves on. Says, “I was thinking about you.”

“Why?” Jungkook bites his lip, sure that if not for his high he’d be freaking out right about now. 

“‘cause you’re next to me.” Seokjin laughs a little. “Was wondering why you hate me. You never told me why you hate me.”

Jungkook pauses. He feels silly all of a sudden. He’s been defending his hatred for Seokjin for a while now, but he’s never felt shy until this moment. He doesn’t quite get why, considering the fact he doesn’t like Seokjin.

“You never asked,” is Jungkook’s lame excuse to buy him some time.

“I’m asking now, aren’t I?”

“You bother me,” Jungkook attempts to explain. “You’re always yelling and—fucking random people. Our personalities don’t match.”

“I haven’t been fucking random people since we kissed,” Seokjin points out. Jungkook didn’t know that. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat on the bed. “And maybe you're always just too quiet.” 

“Maybe,” Jungkook isn’t too sure what to say, so he shrugs. “Just don’t like you.”

“Ok,” Seokjin accepts like that’s a legitimate answer. In the back of his mind, Jungkook feels guilty. He’s about to further explain, maybe backtrack a bit and try to make more sense, but then Seokjin’s speaking again. “I was looking at the sky last night.” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook raises a brow. “What for?” 

“You said you like the sky,” Seokjin says easily. “Wanted to figure out a little more why. I never thought about it much before.” 

“Do you think about stuff like that a lot? I've only ever seen you like this when we’re high.” 

That much is true. Jungkook’s never had a one on one with Seokjin almost ever, let alone when high, not before the last time. He knows enough from stories from his hyung’s though that Seokjin gets a bit lost in it. Namjoon always says he’s great to talk to when he’s high. 

“Sometimes,” Seokjin admits. “I’m not as jock-ed out as you think I am.”

“I know that, I just…” Jungkook trails off. His voice sounds quiet now. He feels stupid. Stupider than he had. 

“It’s fine,” Seokjin assures him. “I don’t go around talking about shit like that because no one wants to hear it. Not outside our group, I guess. And no one cares what the moon looks like when they’re just trying to fuck.” 

Jungkook wonders what makes him any different. 

“You have a point,” he says instead. Seokjin doesn’t say anything else as Jungkook wordlessly passes him the joint. He takes a deep inhale, Jungkook watching his lips the entire time.

He does want to kiss him again.

Fuck it.

He swallows his pride as he asks, “Can I kiss you right now?”

“Yes,” Seokjin looks over at him, a hazy look in his eyes as he lets out the smallest of laughs. His eyes are still beautiful. “Weren’t we just doing that? Why even ask?”

“Didn’t know if it was still allowed. Like, if we reached a kissing quota or something.”

“That’s a big word,” Seokjin tells him, scooting across the bed to get closer. 

“Not really,” Jungkook mumbles, eyes zeroing in on Seokjin’s mouth. “Maybe your brain is just small.”

Seokjin simply hums, not bothering to even give a snide reply, closing the gap between him and Jungkook. 

When they kiss, it feels different from before. While before was rushed and needy, hands groping each other and rushing to push down each other’s pants, this kiss is slow and lazy. Instead of Seokjin’s hands running down Jungkook’s body, they cup his face, one carding through his hair gently. Seokjin’s tongue pushes past Jungkook’s lips sluggishly, tasting inside the younger’s mouth. 

And then suddenly they’re closer like Jungkook can’t stop the pull that comes from Seokjin, and he’s sliding into the taller’s lap, thighs straddling thighs. Wherever the joint is now, Jungkook isn’t too sure, but he can’t bring himself to care. He feels dizzy, and not even from his high but from Seokjin because Jungkook’s grown to realize he’s more intoxicating than anything else he’s ever consumed. 

It’s terrifying. 

* * *

It’s cold outside, mid-March already, but Jungkook’s body is molten hot. 

He’s squeezed into a booth, smack in the middle of some club his friends dragged him to on the other side of the city. The music is annoying, way worse than anything the hockey house plays, but the drinks are five times stronger; Jungkook learned that the hard way. He nearly chugged half his vodka soda as soon as they got comfortable and sort of paid the price. Now, he’s had two and he feels a subtle, dull pain in the back of his skull. He figures it’ll go away if he ignores it long enough. Maybe drink some water. That, or maybe one of his hyung’s has a joint he can take a hit from outside. 

He decides to ask, “Either of you bring anything?” He doesn’t need to specify, they both know what he’s talking about. 

“No,’ Yoongi shakes his head just in case Jungkook can’t hear him over the music. It’s just Jungkook, Namjoon, and Yoongi. They haven’t seen the rest of the group in a bit. He thinks he saw Hoseok and Seokjin head to the bar again. “Taehyungie might,” he follows up.

Jungkook hums, though naturally, it gets lost under the background noise. “Where is he?”

“The bathroom,” Namjoon’s face scrunches up, “with Jimin-ah.”

“Fuckers,” Jungkook mutters, but he’s not surprised. “What about Hobi?” If it hadn’t been for how close together they were sitting, Jungkook probably would’ve missed the way Yoongi cringes upon hearing the other’s name. “You ok?” he glances at Yoongi who nods. 

“Fine,” he confirms. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook shrugs. “You just got weird when I mentioned Hoseok hyung. Why’d you get weird?”

“I didn’t get weird,” Yoongi denies. Namjoon scoffs. 

“Why’d he get weird?” Jungkook directs his question to Namjoon, hoping he can shed some light instead.

“I don’t know, hyung, why’d you get weird?” Namjoon obviously knows something that Jungkook doesn't. The air is awkward now, changed. Despite the bubbly song blasting from the DJ’s speakers, the club feels bleak, all of a sudden. 

“Because he got weird,” Yoongi finally explains, groaning. “We fucked again the other day and then he—he wanted to like… be a thing.”

“Well, fuck.” Jungkook smiles. “That’s great, isn’t it?” Yoongi doesn’t smile back.

“I panicked and told him I didn’t know if I wanted that. So, now we’re back to friends. And we agreed we wouldn’t hook up again. Because that didn’t end well.”

The ache in Jungkook’s brain pounds a little harder.

“Are you fucking with me?” he asks, sighing. Yoongi shakes his head no. “Why would you say that, I mean—you like Hobi hyung. You always have!” 

“Just fuck off, JK,” Yoongi grumbles. “I didn’t wanna ruin things. We’re honestly fine.”

Jungkook goes to say something else, something along the lines of you’re obviously not fine, but then Hoseok and Seokjin are back, more drinks in their hands. 

“Who wants shots?!” Hoseok is lively as ever. Maybe they are fine. 

“Not me.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I have a headache. This shit is too much compared to your kegs.”

“No shit.” Seokjin laughs. Jungkook wants to say he hates that laugh, but he doesn’t, not really, not right now. 

“I need one.” Namjoon raises a hand, immediately reaching for one of the many Hoseok and Seokjin brought over. “Especially now.” he nods his head in the direction of where Jimin and Taehyung are returning. 

If it hadn’t been obvious what they were doing in the bathroom together before, it’s undoubtedly obvious now. Taehyung’s lips are swollen, cheeks flushed, and hair a bit messier than it normally is. Jimin looks equally fucked out. He’s got a dizziness about him in his eyes and his shirt that had been neatly tucked into his jeans is out. They’re holding hands, giddy. Jungkook doesn’t know if he wants to laugh at them or roll his eyes. 

“Hi,” Jimin keeps his composure the best he can, “what’d we miss?” 

Hoseok cackles, holding a shot up to each of them. “I feel like the better question is what’d we miss?”

“None of your business, horny bitch,” Jimin says coyly, clicking his tiny glass with Taehyung before knocking the shot back. Taehyung doesn’t drink it, just waits for Jimin to finish his and then hands it over. 

“Forgot you don’t do shots,” Hoseok laughs a little, nudging Taehyung, watching as Jimin takes his boyfriend’s, too. It’s weirdly cute, a little domestic, and something about it makes Jungkook smile. 

It also makes him wonder again if he’ll ever have anything like that. 

“I do enough for the both of us,” Jimin answers for him, shrugging. He quickly kisses Taehyung before turning back to the group. Jimin is always extra clingy when he’s drinking. “Anyone wanna dance?” 

They all mumble agreements, some more willing than others, except for Yoongi, who promises that he’ll stay here and watch the table. It doesn’t raise any eyebrows, Yoongi isn’t one for dancing and being the center of attention, but Jungkook worries. He thinks it probably has to do with the way he’s been avoiding looking at Hoseok since he returned. 

Regardless, they head onto the crowded dance floor, sweaty bodies left and right, moving to whatever shitty song the DJ has on now. Jungkook can appreciate a good club scene, however, so he ignores the terrible, repetitive beat of the song and the way his head still mildly hurts and lets loose. 

The dance floor overflows with color and life, the energy from everyone around him soaking right to his bones. The air is charged, not just with alcohol and the pulsating music, but something heavier, something almost alluring. He glances over at Jimin and Taehyung and almost feels like he’s intruding; they’re close, closer than usual which is saying something, shameless in the way they move together, Jimin’s lips grazing his boyfriend’s neck. 

When he does look away, his eyes find Namjoon and Hoseok, laughing for a minute at the way they stick out, ridiculous with their obnoxious moves, but Jungkook’s grateful for them. Because suddenly he realizes it’s not just Jimin and Taehyung who have someone and are planning on going home with tonight. It’s the whole damn club, which, yes, should be obvious and isn’t something Jungkook hasn’t experienced before, but it’s never felt this unbearable until now. 

His eyes drift back to his friends again, stomach twisting in something—is it unpleasant, or is it just unfamiliar—as he locks eyes with Seokjin.

Oh.

That might be why. 

Jungkook’s suddenly very aware of Seokjin’s eyes on him, especially when they quickly give him a once over, burning Jungkook’s face hot. He doesn’t feel nervous, per se. Seokjin looks at him right now, not much different than Jungkook’s started to realize he looks at him sometimes. Like he’s trying to figure him out.

He thinks he might know what Seokjin’s trying to figure out right now. 

Somehow, and maybe Jungkook wants to blame that damn magnetic pull again, he finds himself drifting closer to Seokjin, body suddenly in the older’s space. Seokjin’s eyes light up with something he’s also seen before—want.

“Hey,” Seokjin gives him a half-smile, feet still moving in time with the music.

“Hi,” Jungkook returns, unable to stop himself from focusing on Seokjin’s lips. They’re close enough that they don’t have to yell to be heard, but Jungkook’s telling himself he’s only staring to try and read the latter’s lips if it gets too loud.

“You came over to me,” Seokjin points out the obvious. 

‘I did,” Jungkook nods, eyes scanning Seokjin’s face. He really is handsome. Way more handsome than Jungkook’s ever thought himself to be. He distantly wonders why Seokjin’s humoring him with all these immature hookups. 

“Weird.”

“Is it?”

“A little,” Seokjin shrugs, but he’s smiling, and still dancing, too. Jungkook finds himself slipping into his rhythm. “Thought you couldn’t stand me?”

“I can’t,” Jungkook says quickly. “‘s just,” he pauses, glancing around. The air seems thicker than before. Jimin and Taehyung are to his left, though they’re not dancing so much anymore, Jimin’s mouth on Taehyung’s neck like he needs it, Taehyung giving into his touch. Hoseok and Namjoon have somehow accumulated some friends, but they’re all way too close to be deemed friendly. Jungkook is curious as to if Hoseok will go home with his stranger. What Yoongi will think if he does. “Just… wanted to be here.”

It’s not a good answer, but Seokjin seems to get what he means. One of his hands finds Jungkook’s waist and he holds on gently like he’s scared Jungkook doesn’t want it. Jungkook thought he made it pretty clear what he wants right now. He lets his own hands reach up to Seokjin’s neck, hanging there. They’re dancing together now.

They were close before, but now it’s nearly impossible to get closer. Jungkook can smell Seokjin’s cologne, it’s going straight to his head. Intoxicating, he curses to himself. He thinks it might be distracting enough that his headache is fading away, though. 

“You think they’ll fuck?” Seokjin asks, snapping Jungkook out of his reverie. He had been looking at Seokjin’s lips again. He’s not entirely proud. 

“Huh?” 

Seokjin jerks his head in the direction of Namjoon and Hoseok with their new mystery dates. “Their new friends.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook says honestly. He studies them all only for a minute more before averting his gaze. “Joon hyung is always down and… and everyone likes Hobi so.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin laughs, it’s kind of hollow. “Everyone does like Hobi.” He looks to the upper level where Jungkook knows their table is. Yoongi, too. Seokjin must know.

They don’t say anything else after that, just let the music fill the silence between them and keep in time to the beat. It feels nice; Jungkook has been with people before Seokjin, but none of them have ever really felt like this. He feels comfortable, relaxed. He doesn’t need to impress anyone or be cool because it’s Seokjin; senior, hockey team captain, and sworn enemy. 

Jungkook feels Seokjin’s hand at his waist dip a little lower. It’s slight, barely a movement, but Jungkook’s been waiting for it, so he notices. 

“You look good tonight,” is all Seokjin says. Jungkook wants him to kiss him. 

“Thanks,” Jungkook replies. Then, belatedly, “asshole.”

Seokjin scoffs. “Can never take a compliment.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook mumbles, sure Seokjin can’t hear him. He makes sure he can when he says, “You look good, too.” 

“Yeah?” Seokjin raises an eyebrow. Cocky. “You never compliment me. Not unless my hands on your dick. And even then, I’d barely call those compliments.”

The thought of it—of them being together, of Seokjin touching him—makes Jungkook wish Seokjin’s hand would reach a little further down. He wants him now. That much he’s sure of. 

“You’re so needy,” Jungkook rolls his eyes. 

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“And what’s that mean?”

“Pillow princess.”

“Fuck off.” Jungkook shoves his shoulders a little, but Seokjin doesn’t go anywhere. “You get off just fine with me.”

“I do.” Seokjin nods, giggling as he does. “I’m just teasing.” 

Jungkook knows. He also knows the air is getting thicker as they speak, hanging over their heads like a fog. Jungkook feels like he’s suffocating. He can’t stand here anymore. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, although he’s already had his attention. “Can we… I wanna touch you.” 

Seokjin’s expression remains neutral, never faltering. “Now?” Jungkook nods. “Well, we could always pull a Jiminie and Tae. Bathroom stall is probably cozy.”

“No, I—“ Jungkook stops himself. He needs more than that. He wants all of it. “Can we go to yours?” 

Seokjin seems to pick up on what he means. 

“Ok, sure.” He nods. “Let’s go.” 

Jungkook’s whole body feels aflame. He turns to Jimin and Taehyung, deciding if anyone has to know, he should tell them. They’re always where he ends up after a night out, anyway, so he owes them the decency of letting them know he’ll most likely see them tomorrow instead. Seokjin’s talking to Namjoon and Hoseok. 

“Hyung’s,” he flicks Jimin’s temple, paying no mind to the way Taehyung’s got about five hickeys, still going strong. 

Jimin groans, pulling away from his boyfriend. “What?”

“I’m going home with Jin hyung, so don’t wait up.”

“Going home with Jin hyung?” Taehyung repeats, nudging Jungkook playfully. “Are you finally gonna put his dick where it matters?” 

“Shut up.” Jungkook shoves him back. He doesn’t answer beyond that. 

Jimin’s eyes fill with something Jungkook can’t quite place, his previously irritated expression shifting to something much softer. He looks like he knows something Jungkook doesn’t. Like the time before the game. It makes Jungkook feel uneasy. 

“What?” Jungkook asks, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at Jimin. 

“Nothing,” he says, but it doesn’t sound convincing. “Seriously, nothing. Have fun. But like, wear a condom or something.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“Ew.” Jimin grimaces. “Don’t call me that. Fuck off.” 

Jungkook laughs, turning back to where Seokjin is turning away from the other duo, and they come face to face. 

“Come on,” Seokjin says, slipping his hand into Jungkook’s as he pulls them off the dance floor. 

They bid farewell to Yoongi who is mildly unimpressed with their choice to head home together, but Jungkook is happy to see he’s at least talking to a guy who’s obviously into him. He feels bad though; it’s clear that it’s not really what Yoongi wants, what Yoongi wants is on the dancefloor, with his other friends, lighting up the room with the same smile that Yoongi has spent literal months thinking about. 

Jungkook looks at Seokjin as he leads them out of the club and has the passing thought that he’s making the same mistake as Yoongi. He quickly brushes it off, though; Yoongi liked Hoseok. Jungkook tolerates Seokjin. That’s the difference. 

Right?

* * *

Whatever doubts Jungkook had are long gone now. 

Jungkook is hot, hotter than he was squeezed in the booth at the club, hotter than when he found himself next to Seokjin on the dancefloor. 

Because, now, Seokjin has Jungkook under him, bodies pressed together with only the thin layer of clothes to keep them apart, his lips hungrily taking Jungkook’s in a searing kiss. 

His hands are at Jungkook’s waist, fingertips itching to get under his shirt, but somehow, are still polite, just barely delving under the soft fabric. Jungkook lifts his hips in an attempt to get some friction, trying to alleviate the way his jeans are becoming agonizingly tight. 

There’s just something about Seokjin’s mouth, he thinks stupidly. 

They pull apart only for a moment, allowing for Seokjin to pull off his top, reaching down for Jungkook’s as well. Jungkook tells himself to help, to take off his own shirt, but as his eyes find Seokjin’s body, he seems almost mesmerized, subconsciously licking his lips as he looks at him. 

“You’re staring,” Seokjin tells him, somehow managing to get Jungkook’s shirt off without much of his cooperation. 

Jungkook feels his face turn red. “You’re—you’re really hot.”

He feels silly saying it. Seokjin wasn’t lying before, Jungkook really doesn’t compliment him. Normally, it’s Seokjin who does the talking, slipping in subtle praises or admiration when they hook up. But Jungkook can’t lie and especially not now.

Seokjin is toned, which naturally, he would be, he’s an athlete for god’s sake, but it’s different from the way Jungkook is. Seokjin is both parts slender and broad, with a perfect, narrow waist and his strong shoulders, all golden, honeyed skin in between. And it’s not that he hasn’t seen Seokjin shirtless before, but in all honesty, he’s never really given a good look until right now. Most times they’ve hooked up in the past, it was rushed, more often than not in somebody’s bathroom at a party or quick in between classes.

But now, Jungkook wants to take all the time in the world to stare.

“You say that like you had no idea,” Seokjin says, scoffing. Of course, he’s still being the arrogant asshole Jungkook knows him to be.

“Can you fuck off?”

Seokjin just hums, bringing his mouth to trail down Jungkook’s neck, onto his newly exposed chest. One of his hands reaches down, palming him through his jeans, eyes looking up to meet Jungkook’s as the latter lets out the weakest of moans. When Seokjin closes a mouth over one of his nipples, his tongue rolling against the sensitive bud, the noise Jungkook makes is a lot louder. 

“That’s too much at one time,” Jungkook is quick to defend.

Seokjin snickers, a hand gripping the inside of Jungkook’s thigh as he leans up to take his lips again. He kisses him once, with just the slightest bit of tongue, and then twice, before pulling away. 

His voice is low when he asks, “Can I take them off?” His hands at the waistband of Jungkook’s pants now, fingers brushing up against the skin above there and sending chills throughout Jungkook’s body.

“Yeah.” Jungkook nods, lifting his hips so Seokjin can undress him. “Take yours off, too.”

“No,” Seokjin says, tossing Jungkook’s pants off to the side.

“What the fuck? Why?”

“Because you’re bossy. I asked. Like a gentleman. You demanded.” 

Jungkook knows he’s only doing it to be an asshole; he can tell by the way Seokjin smirks as he says it. 

“I hate you so much,” Jungkook tells him, glaring at the older as his hands roam the new expanse of Jungkook’s thighs. 

“Yeah?” Seokjin cocks his head, cupping Jungkook through his boxers. Jungkook lets out a whine when he does. “Doesn’t sound like you do, pretty.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook is still whining; honestly, he doesn’t give a fuck anymore, “touch me.”

“I am,” is his dumbass reply. Naturally. 

“You know how I mean.”

Seokjin laughs again, way too pleased with the way Jungkook is turning into a needy mess. He leans up on the bed again to kiss Jungkook once more. It’s quick this time and leaves the younger chasing his lips. Seokjin keeps his mouth hovering above Jungkook’s but doesn’t close the gap, teasing. His hand finally retreats to Jungkook’s boxers, dipping inside the waistband and grabbing him gently. 

“This how you mean?” Seokjin asks though he knows the answer, the coy smile on his face growing even bigger when Jungkook immediately reacts. 

“Yes,” he grits out. “God, I fucking hate you.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Seokjin says, obviously amused. “Can I take it all off?”

“Mhmm,” Jungkook nods, whining when Seokjin removes his hand from where he’s stroking Jungkook, and then he’s completely naked, Seokjin’s eyes frantically all over him.

“You’re a piece of fucking work, kid,” Seokjin tells him, making Jungkook squirm under his gaze. 

Jungkook knows he was staring at Seokjin, it’s only fair that he gets the same chance but—Jungkook’s also never really been in the situation for someone to seriously check him out like this before. All previous times he slept with someone was quick, not so much based on taking their time and enjoying the sex, more so just getting each other off. 

“No, I’m—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Seokjin laughs, reaching out a hand to pinch Jungkook’s side. “Let me say one nice thing to you. You’re fucking pretty, JK.” 

“Ok, fine,” Jungkook gives in, nervously tapping his fingers against where they rest on Seokjin’s biceps. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Seokjin replies as reaches for the button of his own jeans, and Jungkook swears he hears angels. “Was that so hard?”

“Yes,” Jungkook lies, just because he’s annoying, sitting up to help Seokjin peel off his pants. Once they’re off, Seokjin feels extra generous, because he takes off his briefs, too, leaving them both with no layers to separate them. 

Then, Seokjin’s cradling Jungkook’s face to pull him in for another kiss, bodies flush against each other. There’s the brush of their cocks together, making the both of them groan, and Jungkook instantly chases the feeling of Seokjin against him, desperate for more. 

“Hang on, hang on,” Seokjin says against his lips, leaning over Jungkook to reach into a drawer, tossing a bottle of lube onto the bed. It’s halfway to being empty, which makes Jungkook’s stomach twist a little further into a knot because he knows it’s only lacking due to all the times they used it together. 

Seokjin is kissing him again and then his hand is wrapping around Jungkook's length as well as his own, a generous amount of lube to follow. They moan in tandem once more, albeit Jungkook’s a bit needier, louder, unable to control it as a wave of pleasure shoots through his body. He looks down, watching Seokjin’s hand, big and a bit rough, expertly jerking them both off in the way Jungkook has come to like maybe too much. 

“Good?” Seokjin asks, pulling on Jungkook’s bottom lip. 

Jungkook groans. “Good,” he confirms, head dropping back in bliss before he looks between them again, the sight alone enough to make him come right now. “Fuck, your hand is big.”

Seokjin laughs, cutting himself short when he strokes at a particularly good angle, getting lost in a short moan. “You’ve had my hands before,” he says, somehow pulling himself together. 

“N-not like. This.” 

Seokjin hums, lazily leaning in to kiss Jungkook, which he quickly accommodates, taking Seokjin’s lips in his own, before trailing onto his cheek, then his jaw, and nearly his neck before he says—

“I need you to fuck me.”

“I can do that,” Seokjin agrees, giving him another kiss. “Can you open yourself up for me?” he asks, slowing down the pace of his hand. “I wanna watch.”

A chill rings up Jungkook’s spine as he nods, reaching for the lube that’s somehow ended up on the other side of the bed. 

He’s never done that before. No one’s ever wanted to watch Jungkook do that—to do this. Most times, if Jungkook knew he was meeting up with someone only for it to end up in sex, he would take care of the mechanics of it all beforehand. Avoid the semi awkwardness of it altogether. So this, the way Seokjin’s eyes are on him hungrily as he tries to find a comfortable position, this is new.

Jungkook drizzles the lube onto his fingers, ignoring the way it runs cold, and swallows his nerves as he reaches down, slowly circling his hole before pushing a finger inside. He bites his lip to hold back a whine, forgetting almost for a minute that Seokjin is even there, lost in the initial sensation until he lets out a breath.

“Fuck,” Seokjin mutters, “you’re a goddamn dream.”

Jungkook shifts awkwardly, trying to find the right angle as he keeps working himself open, breathing even as Seokjin begins to lazily pump his own dick again. 

The overall idea of what’s currently happening is overwhelming, to say the least. 

“I’ve never—” Jungkook’s voice gets lost as he adds another digit. “Never done this before,” he finishes.

“Fingered yourself?” Seokjin raises an eyebrow, gaze meeting Jungkook’s.

“No, I’ve done this before, you son of a b-bitch.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, however, letting Jungkook continue. “No one has ever wanted to watch.”

Seokjin shrugs. “I think it’s hot.” 

Jungkook whines, watching the way Seokjin is watching him and yeah, it is hot. Seokjin looks at him like he’s everything he’s ever wanted and as Jungkook looks back, he can’t really help but feel the same right now. With the way Seokjin’s skin is nearly glowing in the dim, soft lighting; he’s beautiful. 

After some more persistence, Jungkook slips in a third finger, wrist cramping from the way he’s been sitting, straining as he tries to reach where it counts, chasing his pleasure. 

He groans. “I can’t—can’t do it anymore. Need you now. Please, can you?” Jungkook pulls his fingers out, chest letting out a sigh as he flops down on the bed, looking up at Seokjin.

“Yeah.” Seokjin nods, eyes dripping with lust. “Yeah, turn around.”

Jungkook is quick to regain his stamina, positioning himself with his back to Seokjin, body on full display. He glances over his shoulder to where Seokjin is situating himself with a condom before he looks to Jungkook again. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” he mutters with a hint of laughter in his voice. His hands are hesitant when they reach out to touch Jungkook, one sliding from his hip to the curve of his ass, kneading experimentally. 

“What?” Jungkook whines, self-conscious under the new attention. 

“You’re a fucking vision,” Seokjin replies, shaking his head. “Every inch of you.” 

Jungkook tries to reply, but his nerves get the best of him. He isn’t used to this kind of attention. 

Luckily, Seokjin doesn’t pester him this time. Asks, “are you ready for me, pretty boy?” 

Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to correct the use of the pet name. “Yeah,” he says. “Want it. I’m ready.” 

“Tell me if you need to stop,” Seokjin says, before he lines himself up, slowly sliding in. 

Jungkook gets why Seokjin is so popular in bed now. 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, feeling the way Seokjin manages to stretch him so perfectly it burns. 

“Are you ok?” the older asks, way too worried considering how good Jungkook is about to feel. 

“Yes,” he says weakly, “just. That was a lot. You're big. Fuck, I forgot how big.” 

“Ok,” Seokjin is nodding, surprisingly not cocky at all, “just let me know when I can move. ‘s ok, take your time.” 

Jungkook takes a minute to adjust, experimentally pushing further back onto Seokjin. He can tell the older is doing everything in his power not to start moving, from the way he’s biting his lip so hard it’s white, so Jungkook nods, not before a whine passes his lips as he pushes back again. 

“You can move. Please move, oh my god.” 

Seokjin moves. 

It’s slow at first, easing themselves into it, before it progressively gets a bit faster, more determined on setting a pace and making the both of them feel good. Seokjin’s hips move in a way so much different than anyone else Jungkook has ever been with, so much more precision and skill, and somehow, so much more caution and tenderness than anyone else. 

“You feel so fucking good,” Seokjin tells him, voice raspy as his hands grip at Jungkook’s waist. The younger suppresses a whine, muffling the noise into the sheets as Seokjin continues, “So tight. Wish you could see how good you take me.” 

This time Jungkook can’t hold back, a pitiful noise slipping from his lips. “Feels really—r-really good, too.”

Jungkook pushes back once more to meet Seokjin’s thrusts, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing throughout the room, making Jungkook feel insane. He manages to straighten up, positioning them at a new angle in an attempt to take Seokjin deeper. He feels Seokjin’s arms wrap around him as his back hits the taller’s chest, lips suddenly at his neck again. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, hands trying to reach for something, for Seokjin, but miserably failing as they fall against the wall in front of him instead. 

“What, babe?” Seokjin’s voice is in his ear, lips grazing the shell of it as he lets go of Jungkook with one arm. Jungkook arches his back, earning what he can only assume is another praise from Seokjin. 

“It’s— there, god, right there. K-keep going.” There’s an urgency in Jungkook’s voice that comes along with the way Seokjin is mercilessly pounding into him. Seokjin simply grunts in response, a newfound form of energy in his movements as he picks up the pace, making Jungkook’s mouth open in a silent cry. 

“Good?” Seokjin asks. Jungkook realizes he’s been practically frozen in pleasure, palms sweating from where they now hold onto the bed frame. 

“Good,” Jungkook manages, nodding. “‘m I good? Are you—do I feel good for you?”

“Mhmm,” Seokjin hums, one of his hands slipping through the pretty waves of Jungkook’s hair. He tugs a little, maybe accidentally, but the groan that it elicits from the younger is anything but. “Love the way you sound,” Seokjin tells him, pressing his lips to Jungkook’s shoulder blade, burning his body hot. 

Jungkook can feel the growing monsoon of pleasure building in his gut—or maybe that’s just Seokjin himself—and he turns around weakly, getting a look at Seokjin, who’s never looked more breathtaking in the whole two years Jungkook’s known him. Because on a normal day, when he’s in his hockey sweats and an old t-shirt, he’s hot, but like this, skin glistening and brows furrowed in concentration, lips swollen and a pretty red, he’s heavenly, a real fucking angel on Earth. 

“Hng—hyung,” Jungkook says, catching Seokjin’s eye as he does. God, he’s going to be the death of him. “I’m close. Really, r-really close, I need to—“

“Shh,” Seokjin pulls him closer again, bodies separated only by a thin layer of sweat, “Come for me, pretty. Come on.” 

Jungkook nods frantically, hand reaching for his dick before Seokjin beats him to it, wrapping around his length as he begins to jerk him off in time with his hips. Jungkook is sure he won’t last another second. 

Seokjin’s nipping at his neck again, tongue smoothing over the areas he undoubtedly left marks at before, and all Jungkook can do is whine, pathetically maybe, but Seokjin’s in his ear telling him how pretty he sounds, so he doesn’t have the energy to be embarrassed. 

“I’m—I’m gonna come,” Jungkook says again, and he can feel Seokjin nod before he lets go, coming into Seokjin’s hand, body nearly collapsing as he does. Seokjin catches him with a strong arm around his waist, easing Jungkook onto his elbows to lean on the bed. “Did you—c-can you come? Come all over me.” Jungkook somehow finds the energy to turn around and ask, something dark flashing in Seokjin’s eyes. 

“Are you—fuck, you want that?” 

“Want that.” Jungkook nods lazily. “Come on, hyung.” 

It doesn’t take much more for Seokjin to come, a few more sloppy but determined thrusts, and then he’s muffling a groan in the crook of Jungkook’s shoulder, hands slipping from where they hold at his waist as Jungkook feels the hot release from Seokjin all over his thighs. 

Jungkook feels like he’s floating, barely recognizing a gentle hand tracing the dip of his backside. “Ok?” Seokjin asks, helping Jungkook onto his back, his stomach covered in a patch of his own come, the backs of his legs just as sticky. 

“Ok,” Jungkook says, blinking slowly. Seokjin chuckles, disposing of the condom properly, disappearing for a minute before he returns with a towel, handing it to Jungkook. Jungkook groans. “Can’t do it.” 

“Can’t do what?” Seokjin asks with a scoff, his voice hoarse. Jungkook wills himself not to find that incredibly hot. 

“Too tired. Can’t clean it up.”

“You’re a big fucking baby,” Seokjin says, without an ounce of surprise in his voice. He doesn’t say anything else as he wordlessly cleans Jungkook up, doing the best he can considering Jungkook is practically a dead weight. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” he says belatedly, well enough aware that Seokjin is still very much naked, and very much enjoying the view still. 

“You look like you’re dead,” Seokjin tells him, returning to the bed only to poke at Jungkook’s side. “You need water or like—a fucking steroid or something?”

Jungkook groans. “Was really good, that’s all.” He attempts to grab Seokjin’s arm. “Can you come here? I don’t want you to keep talking, so if we sleep, you’ll stop.” 

“Really?” Seokjin sounds unamused, however dragging himself back into the bed. “It’s disgusting in here, by the way. Your come is about three inches from my face right now.” 

“You’ve swallowed before, same thing.” Seokjin snorts, earning one of Jungkook’s fingers to his lips. Or at least, the general direction of his lips. “Fuck off. Go to bed. Just for now.” 

Seokjin mutters a response, however obliging, even going as far as to let Jungkook half roll onto him, eyes closing before he can say anything else. 

And as Jungkook closes his eyes he can hear the tiny, responsible voice in his head tell him, this changes everything. 

* * *

Everything is normal at first. 

The next day passes by without a second thought. Jungkook says goodbye to Seokjin sometime in the early afternoon and they don’t see each other again until Monday. 

Everything’s fine, Jungkook tells himself, despite the fact he knows he and Seokjin should probably talk about it. They crossed an unwritten line, right? Before Friday, their relationship had been purely just for convenience. Quick, not at all intimate. But what happened Friday that was—almost tender. Time-consuming. Maybe even a little bit lovely. 

Jungkook pretends like it wasn’t. Like it was nothing but another meaningless fuck. Like he was nothing but another one of Seokjin’s nameless hookups. 

They’re all sitting in the student lounge now, sprawled across the main group of couches and chairs like they own the place. If Jungkook didn’t know his friends, he’d probably hate them. 

“What you’re describing is another costume party, Joon-ah,” Yoongi points out, tucked away underneath a sweater that’s at least two sizes too big. “Why do you guys insist on hosting costume parties? It’s March.”

“It’s not a costume party, dipshit,” Namjoon is quick to correct, “It’s a theme party. Obvious difference.”

“I don’t see the difference.”

“I see the difference,” Taehyung offers helpfully, content where he’s practically using Jimin as a pillow. “I like it.”

“Thank you, Tae,” Namjoon says pointedly. 

“Sure. Honestly, I think a theme party would be cool. You could do the ‘70s. Jiminie’s ass would look so good in bell bottoms.”

Jimin grins. “Damn straight.”

“You two are sick.” Seokjin snickers, nudging Hoseok as he does in an attempt to get him to poke fun, too. 

Hoseok is eerily quiet. Jungkook can’t help but notice he has been since they all met up. He thinks he might have to do with the way Yoongi is also here and alcohol is absent. 

“And the rest of you are just miserable because you’re not regularly getting laid.” Jimin scoffs. “Suck my dick.” 

Hoseok hums. “Speaking of dicks, I gotta get to class. My professor is a pain in the ass if I’m late.”

“Yeah, me too.” Namjoon reaches for his bag. “Yoongi hyung and I got music theory. We’ll walk with you, Hobi, same side of campus.”

Hoseok nearly winces before he forces a smile, nodding. “Great. Yeah, let’s go. The three of us.”

Yoongi doesn’t seem too thrilled either, but they all head off, mumbling goodbye’s and promises to see each other again later. Jungkook looks back to his friends, suddenly very aware how it’s just him and Seokjin and then Jimin and Taehyung, who naturally can’t do anything without it seeming inherently sexual. 

“Well, I’m leaving before you sickos fuck in here or something.” Jungkook throws them a wave, swinging his backpack over his shoulders. 

“You guys act like we have no common decency.” Jimin pouts, rolling his eyes. 

“You kinda don’t,” Seokjin counters, laugh evident in his voice. “But I respect it. Live out your wildest, kinkiest dreams, my friends.”

“That’s why you’re the best hyung.” Taehyung points to Seokjin, to which Jungkook laughs.

“I’m telling Yoongi hyung,” he threatens, before turning on his heels. Taehyung yells something probably not at all menacing back, but Jungkook’s too busy laughing with a wave to hear him, making a beeline for the exit just to be annoying. 

“Jesus, kid, wait the fuck up.”

He turns around just as he’s leaving to find Seokjin jog in his step as he joins Jungkook. 

“Not a kid,” Jungkook reminds him. “Where are you going?”

“Library. I gotta find a book for my lit class.” 

Jungkook hums. So he does go to the library. 

“Can I ask you something first, though?” Seokjin asks, voice sounding a bit more unsure of himself than he normally does. Jungkook’s heart skips a tiny beat, anxiety filling up his stomach. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jungkook allows. “What’s up?” 

He wants to talk. He wants to fucking talk and now you’re going to have to make another decision to see if you want to go all the way in with this—

“What are you doing on Friday?” 

That’s—that’s unexpected. 

“Nothing?” Jungkook shrugs. “What’s Friday? Hockey house?”

“Well, yeah, but—” Seokjin pauses, nervously tugging at the straps on his backpack. “I just wanted to know if you wanted to do something. With me. Not the hockey house.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Jungkook nods. So he’s just treating last Friday like it was normal. That’s good. It should be normal. “Like, you wanna fuck again?”

Seokjin lets out a short laugh, looking around as if to make sure no one heard. “I mean, if it was to end that way, I wouldn’t be opposed, I just. Wanted to take you out. Do you wanna go out?”

Oh. 

“What do you mean take me out?” Jungkook feels the color from his face drain as he stops walking, turning to face Seokjin. 

He looks nervous. He never looks nervous. 

“I mean like, a place that isn’t somewhere dirty on campus. A nicer place. A place for a date.”

Oh, fuck. 

“A date?” Jungkook repeats. 

Seokjin shifts uncomfortably on his feet as he nods slowly.

“Why would you—why do you wanna do that?”

“Because I… because we—” Seokjin stops himself, shaking his head. “Is that not what’s happening?”

“What’s happening, Jin?” Jungkook is exasperated. 

“I thought because we—I mean, we hadn’t slept together yet, so when you wanted to, I thought maybe you felt the same way I—” he stops again, eyebrows furrowing. He’s thinking. It’s like Jungkook can see the way his brain is moving a mile a minute. It makes him even sicker than he already is. “You know what?” Seokjin is laughing now, shaking his head. It’s not his usual laugh, though. It’s loud, and something about it is empty. Sad. “Don’t worry about it, I—just forget it.”

“Jin hyung—”

“No, it’s cool, kid.” Seokjin starts to back away in the opposite direction. “Forget I said anything.”

Jungkook doesn’t want to forget. 

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna go.” Seokjin nods, looking down at his feet. “I’ll… see you around.”

“Hyung—” Jungkook tries again. 

He’s joking, right? All this was a joke, right? 

“Later, Jungkook-ah.”

It’s the first time in a while that Seokjin uses his name. 

It sounds rotten.

* * * 

There was a period where Jungkook avoided Seokjin like his life depended on it. 

It wasn’t too long ago, all before they started hooking up. Jungkook made it his mission not to be alone with Kim Seokjin because he couldn’t stand him. 

That’s what he used to think. 

Because now, it seems like Seokjin is avoiding him; zipping past him at the hockey rink when he’s there for practice, avoiding eye contact when they all meet up for dinner, staying on the opposite side of Namjoon and Hoseok’s dorm when they all hang out. 

And it’s killing Jungkook. He quite literally feels like shit, and he’s not sure if it’s because he feels bad for how their last conversation ended, or because he straight up misses him. 

Either way, Jungkook’s pretty sure you don’t feel that way when you supposedly hate the person. 

He’s been doing a lot of thinking. 

It’s on Thursday when he has his epiphany. 

“Can I ask you guys something?” 

Jungkook turns on his stool at The Ice Box to face his hyung’s, Jimin and Taehyung, who are currently bent over Taehyung’s phone giggling at what Jungkook thinks is a video of a small dog. Or so he hopes. You never know with those two. 

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, “does it have to do with the way you’ve been in thought for the past week? You’ve barely spoken to us until right now. I was starting to think you were body-snatched.”

“Not everything has to be aliens, baby,” Jimin mumbles, nudging Taehyung’s forehead against his own. 

Jungkook continues before they can, “It—kinda does. I mean, it does. I guess. I didn’t realize I’ve been kinda tuning everything out. I've... had a lot on my mind.” 

Jungkook holds his breath to wait for the part where they figure out that it’s all about Seokjin, but it doesn’t come. If they know, they don’t torture him with the knowledge, shrugging as if to let him continue, dog video on pause. 

“How’d you guys know you were in love?” 

It comes out fast and Jungkook hopes they got it the first time because he doesn’t want to say it again. Because it’s embarrassing enough to talk about feelings, but to pry on your best friends’ feelings in their relationship is even worse. He briefly visits the idea of bribing them into never bringing this up again, but decides that would be childish. Or whatever. 

“Us?” Jimin raises an eyebrow, glancing at Taehyung. Jungkook nods. “You guys never wanna hear about me and Taehyungie. You all say we overshare.”

“Well, to be fair, you do,” Jungkook counters. “I honestly know more about your sex life than my own.”

“That’s because you don’t have one,” Taehyung says stupidly, holding out his hand to high five Jimin. 

“I’m actually interested and now you two wanna be dicks about it,” Jungkook says, pointing an accusing finger in their direction.  

“Let’s relax.” Jimin rolls his eyes, moving on, “To answer your question, I always knew, I’m pretty sure. Everything’s just different with Taehyungie. It was like when I saw him or I thought of him, I always had this big feeling in my chest. One that I never got with anyone else. Everything just felt easier.” 

“That’s so embarrassing, you like me so much.” 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Jimin shoves him gently. “Now, your turn, I wanna be reminded how bad you have it for me.” 

“Bitch,” Taehyung mutters, however obliging. “It’s true, though, I think I always knew, too.”

“Think?” Jimin raises an eyebrow. 

“Can you fuck off? I wasn’t done,” Taehyung says, actions betraying his harsh words as his hands engulf Jimin’s, lacing their fingers together. “I can be whoever I want when I’m with Jiminie. There’s no pressure. And I always wanna be with him. I miss him even if I’ve just seen him.” 

Jungkook hums. 

His heart beats a little quicker when he can almost place the exact feelings they’re talking about with someone else he knows. 

“Then there’s the obvious stuff,” Taehyung continues. “Like, I wanted to have sex with Jimin so bad the first time I saw him. Or I was gonna die. Crazy hot.” 

“Oh, gross,” Jungkook’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Please don’t continue.”

Jimin, of course, does not listen. “Luckily, the feeling was mutual and nobody had to die. Just our tickets to heaven that night, maybe.” 

They both share a look and then they’re smiling, and it’s disgusting, and Jungkook tries to focus on how cute they were being thirty seconds prior instead to keep out whatever perverted images they might be thinking of at bay. 

“Yup, we get it, you guys have nasty, headboard-breaking sex.” Jungkook shudders visibly. “Thank you for answering my question. Please don’t elaborate anymore if it’s gonna involve what you freaks do behind closed doors. Or ever.” 

“Message received.” Taehyung attempts to salute him, but his hand is still holding Jimin’s so it comes up more of a mess with the older boy attached to him. 

“Is our Jungkookie in love?” Jimin asks, batting his eyes in a way that makes Jungkook want to throw up. 

“No,” Jungkook says quickly, but. 

Is he? 

Because Jungkook’s been doing a lot of thinking. 

Thinking about him and Seokjin. 

How he feels about Seokjin. How Seokjin makes him feel. 

Thinking about how much more alive—or maybe that’s just him feeling more himself—that he feels when he’s hanging out with Seokjin. Or the sparks that ignite his body when Seokjin’s touching him. Or the swarm of butterflies fluttering around his stomach when the older just so much as looks at him. 

He’s been thinking about how he actually started to look forward to seeing Seokjin, and not just because he was good for a stellar blowjob, but because he always had something to say, something exciting, something to keep Jungkook on his toes. He’s been thinking about how he’s started to see Seokjin for way more than just his jock exterior, but instead, someone who likes the moon and remembers things that Jungkook likes and finds solace in quiet spaces like the library and listens to music that can be melancholy because life isn’t all that great all the time. 

He’s been thinking about how these past few days without him have honestly been like hell and how there’s probably, maybe, definitely, a chance that Jungkook doesn’t hate Kim Seokjin as much as he’s led on. 

And it’s new, and it should be scary, should be a world of terror, really, but for once, Jungkook doesn’t feel scared. 

* * *

It starts like any other Friday night at the hockey house. 

Loud, sweaty, admittedly way too potent with god knows what. 

Jungkook’s had a shot, just the one he took at Jimin and Taehyung’s before he left, and has been holding the same beer for about an hour now. He doesn’t want to get drunk tonight. Not off alcohol, anyway. 

He’s come with a plan tonight. A silent mission, one that involves Kim Seokjin and a stupid confession from his stupid heart that he’s chosen to no longer ignore. It’s eating him alive, at this point. 

And it’s what Seokjin deserves. 

The truth. An apology. 

Unfortunately, Jungkook hasn’t seen Seokjin since he got here. Their initial greeting was awkward, mostly just Jimin and Taehyung loudly greeting the athlete while Jungkook gave a small wave. He only got a nod in reply. 

Seokjin had seemed busy; a girl that Jungkook’s pretty sure is in his photography class—Minah, he thinks her name is—on his arm, lips dangerously close to her skin as he whispered something to her, eyes full of a light that Jungkook has grown way too attached to. 

It hurt and Jungkook knows that’s the selfish part of his brain speaking. There’s no reason why Seokjin shouldn’t be talking to or kissing or hooking up with anyone he wants. Because Jungkook was an asshole. Seokjin doesn’t owe him anything. 

But still. 

To see Seokjin with someone else felt… wrong. Like it should be Jungkook. Like Jungkook is the one that belongs there, lose arm around Seokjin’s waist and his pretty pillow lips by his ear. 

So now he’s on a mission. 

“You ok, JK?” Yoongi asks, sparing Jungkook a side glance before he takes a sip of whatever disgusting cocktail he’s convinced himself he likes. 

Jungkook just now notices he’d been bouncing his leg up and down from his seat like he’s one second away from losing his mind. Maybe he is. Regardless, Yoongi does not need to know that. 

“I’m fine,” he says casually. He takes a sip of his beer. It’s warm. “Are you ok?”

“Yes.” Yoongi laughs incredulously. “I’m not the one who looks like they’ve taken every pill on the planet. You’re shaking like a madman.” 

“Just have a lot of energy. I had—coffee.” 

“Clearly.” Yoongi scoffs, taking another sip of his drink. “I’m scared to leave you. Wanna be babysat by Joon-ah or our Horny Felons?” 

“Fuck, neither.” Jungkook snickers, managing to relax for the first time since he got here. “Where are you going, anyway? Leaving early?”

“God, no,” Yoongi shakes his head. “Meeting up with Hoseokie. He was picking up so, I told him I’d meet him halfway once he was coming here just because.” 

“Hoseok hyung?” Jungkook raises a brow as Yoongi nods. “I thought you—you guys are talking again?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says. “Where have you been?”

“Inside my brain, unfortunately.”

“Sounds pleasant.” Jungkook hums, Yoongi continuing, “I met up with him the other day and apologized. I was… it was a dick move of me. I like Hobi. I’ve always liked Hobi. I think the idea of it becoming something tangible scared me. Sometimes I’m not too good with my feelings.”

Jungkook is silent for a minute, letting Yoongi’s words soak through to his bones. 

Maybe sometimes he’s not too good with feelings, too. Maybe his friends had a point all those times they made fun of him for not keeping a guy around for more than a month. Maybe he’s been the problem the whole time.

Maybe Seokjin is his chance to fix it. 

“That’s—hyung, I’m happy for you,” Jungkook tells him, smile genuine as he pats Yoongi on the back. “He really likes you.”

“I know,” Yoongi says quickly, biting back a smile. “But, I really like him, too. I’m happy I stopped being such a little bitch.”

Jungkook laughs, watching Yoongi get up, downing the rest of his drink. “I’ll be back,” he promises, giving Jungkook a small wave. 

“Been official for like, three days and he already has you whipped, hyung.”

“Fuck off.” There’s no bite to his words when he says it. “And Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

“Maybe you could give not being such a little bitch a try.”

“What’s that supposed to—”

“You know what it’s supposed to mean.” Jungkook can’t say anything else, because yeah, he knows. But just because it’s Yoongi, he adds, “Kid.”

“Just get out of here.” Jungkook kicks him lightly. “Go get your balls back from Hoseok hyung.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything else after that, turning on his heels with a roll of his eyes and the flip of his middle finger, leaving Jungkook alone. He’s sat in the middle of the living room, probably the hub of the entire party, but he’s never felt so far from everyone in his entire life. 

He feels small. 

Discarding his beer on the coffee table to his right, he decides it’s now or never. He’s come here on a mission, and Yoongi’s right, he needs to stop being a little bitch and be honest with himself. Be honest with everyone. 

He likes Kim Seokjin; senior, hockey team captain, and apparent sworn enemy. He’s done playing games.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Jungkook makes his way through the narrow hallways of the hockey house, attempting to find the other. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do when he finds him; for one, Seokjin was literally with a girl when he got here, with a clear intent on what they were doing tonight. Not only that, but Seokjin has been avoiding Jungkook all week. There’s no way he’s going to want to talk to him now. 

It’s much easier to find Seokjin than Jungkook had anticipated—or maybe hoped. He’s by the backdoor, chatting with a few other guys from the hockey team, drink in his hand and Minah on his arm. 

Jungkook feels minuscule now. 

But it’s now or never, he reminds himself. He told you how he feels, now you owe him the same courtesy. 

His legs carry him over to where Seokjin and his group are huddled faster than he can talk himself out of it. He ignores the overly dry sensation in his mouth and clears his throat, praying his voice doesn’t come out as weak as he feels everywhere else within him.

“Uh, hi.” 

Nice one, Jungkook. 

Seokjin looks up, eyes flashing with something Jungkook can’t quite place. Irritation, hurt, confusion, he’s not too sure, but he hopes it doesn’t mean he’s about to tell Jungkook to fuck off. It’s bad enough he has to start this in front of all these people, he doesn’t need any more embarrassment. 

Although, maybe he deserves it. 

“Hey,” Seokjin says cooly, shifting on his feet. “What are you… what’s up?”

Jungkook’s gaze shifts from Seokjin to the group around him, they’re all settling back into their previous conversation, not paying him much mind. They’re probably too tipsy to even care, much more engrossed with themselves than whatever Jungkook has to say. 

“Can we talk?” he manages to get out. “I feel like—we should talk.”

Seokjin glances over at his friends, eyes lingering at Minah who’s still holding onto him. 

“You wanna talk?” Seokjin sounds a bit incredulous. “Now?”

He’s not mad, at least Jungkook doesn’t think he is. He sounds upset. Thrown off. Nervous, even. 

“I haven’t seen you anywhere else,” Jungkook starts to explain, “you’ve been—I feel like you’ve been trying to avoid me.” 

He’s not trying to make Seokjin feel bad, it’s the total opposite. But he can’t help the way his voice sounds broken, the way he feels stupid, the way his hands feel like they’re shaking from the nerves. 

Seokjin tries to conceal a sigh, turning back to his friends and muttering a quick excuse, before he’s turned back to Jungkook, nodding. 

“Let’s talk.” 

Jungkook releases a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, nodding in return. “Can we… is outside ok?” He gestures to the door next to them that leads to the fire escape. 

Seokjin simply nods in reply, wordlessly turning to push open the door, barely holding it open for Jungkook. 

And then it’s just them. 

The noises of the party are muffled now, some cheers and laughs and loud music nothing but a memory. The air seems too fresh, it’s almost suffocating, but maybe that’s just the way the silence between the two of them seems to linger in the air, loaded and stagnant. 

It’s Seokjin who speaks first. Says—

“What do you need to talk about?”

Jungkook swallows, trying to fight the uncomfortable parched feeling in his mouth. “You and me.”

“You and me,” Seokjin repeats, under his breath. “There’s not much of that anymore, JK.” 

The words cut through Jungkook like the sharpest blade in the drawer. 

“I know,” he nods. “And that’s my fault. That’s why I wanted to say sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Seokjin tells him. He’s looking out at the city before them, eyes anywhere but Jungkook’s. “I didn’t want you to feel guilty or something. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I don’t feel guilty because of that,” Jungkook corrects him. 

“I’m not mad at you because you don’t feel the same way about me,” Seokjin begins to explain. “I’m mad at myself. I was stupid. I misread things. I let my stupid fucking feelings get in the way when it was obvious you never even saw me as even a friend in the first place.” 

“Hyung, that’s not—“

“I’m not fragile. I know what it means when someone says they’re not interested but—“ Seokjin shakes his head as if he’s thinking. “I was just embarrassed. So you don’t have to be sorry. It's me who should be sorry. I assumed things and I made you uncomfortable, so I’m sorry for being—“

“Hyung,” Jungkook stops him, daring to inch a bit closer. Seokjin looks over at him, taking in their newfound proximity. “Will you fucking listen to me? This isn’t about you.” 

“But you said you wanted to talk about us—“

“Yeah, us. Not you. I’m sorry. It’s my fault because I’m—I’m an asshole. I lead you on. Or, I made it seem like I was leading you on. Like I was using you. When that’s not—that was never the case.” Jungkook is speaking quickly, hoping the words that are spilling out are at least making some sense. He’s never been this nervous in his entire life. 

“I let you think that I hated you, or that you weren’t someone I wanted in my life when in reality, it’s so much farther than that. Hyung,” Jungkook says, a shy hand reaching to tug on Seokjin’s arm. “I like you. I don’t hate you. I don’t think I ever hated you. I think I’ve liked you since the first fucking time I laid eyes on you, and I’m—well, I’m a mess. I don’t know what it’s like to have feelings for someone like that. I think it scared me so much that I told myself it was something like hatred so I could stop thinking about it.”

“Jungkook—“

“No, fuck you, let me finish, you bitch,” Jungkook squeezes the arm he has under his palm and Seokjin nods. “I like you, hyung. I don’t think you’re a stupid, stereotypical jock. I think when we first met, I was jealous of the people you were fucking or all those people you’re friends with. I wanted it. And then I got it and I fucked it up. I fucked us up. Because I want more than just… a gross handjob in somebody’s bathroom. 

“I want you and me holding hands, instead. I want—to look at the fucking sky with you. And then fall asleep on your shoulder because they’re—well, they’re huge and you’re warm and I wanna be near you all the time it’s scary. And these past few days have hurt like a bitch. Because I don’t wanna pretend I hate you anymore. I’m so tired of pretending, hyung. I just want you.” 

Seokjin’s looking at him now. He’s frozen, perfect lips open in the slightest of look of surprise, eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. Jungkook can hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest as he drops Seokjin’s arm, stepping back cautiously. 

“Can you—“ he starts, suddenly way too nervous to hold eye contact anymore. “Say something, asshole.” 

“No.” Seokjin shakes his head and then he’s laughing. 

“No?” Jungkook repeats, eyes wide as he looks up again. 

“You’re the asshole.” Seokjin points a finger at him and then he’s laughing harder. “Jesus, kid, you bother me so fucking much. Do you have any idea how bad I have it for you? I hate you. You’re so cute and have never been anything less than annoying. But here I am. I’m here because I still want you. You’re an asshole and I want you more than anyone else on this shit campus. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?”

“You—“ 

“Shut up.” Seokjin groans and then he’s suddenly a lot closer again, lips crashing against Jungkook’s in a way that feels like coming home. 

Jungkook immediately melts into the kiss, muscles relaxing as Seokjin’s hands come up to cradle his face, lips playing against his own gently. He hums against Seokjin’s lips, content, so content he feels like he’s flying. 

“I missed you,” Jungkook mumbles into his mouth, hoping to god it doesn’t come off as cringey as he knows it sounds. 

“Good,” Seokjin says back, smug. “You made me feel like a fucking tool.” 

“You are one.”

They pull apart for only a second, Seokjin’s hands still cupping Jungkook’s cheeks. His thumb skims over the skin beneath his eye and he sighs. 

“You know you’re on thin ice, right? You just came crawling back to me after breaking my precious little heart and now you already think you can poke fun?”

“Sorry,” Jungkook says, pressing his lips to Seokjin’s again in a chase kiss. “I just missed you. Everything about you, that is. So that includes making fun of you.”

Seokjin kisses him again. 

“But, hyung,” Jungkook manages to pull apart once more. “I meant everything I said, you know. I really like you. And I’m really sorry. I don’t want you to be sad anymore. Not because of me.”

Seokjin smiles and it reaches his eyes and Jungkook has never had his breath taken away before, but he can certainly say he has now. 

“I know you meant it,” he tells Jungkook, giving a small nod of his head. “That’s why I pick you. You can take my precious little heart and put it next to yours. Right inside the nasty fucking icebox that you apparently kept yours in until right now.”

“Hey—”

Seokjin kisses him to shut him up. “It’s yours, Jungkook-ah, do whatever you want with it.”

This time when Seokjin says his name, it sounds like the prettiest melody he’s ever heard.  

* * *

There’s a disco song playing on the speakers above them, no doubt a repeat. The carpet has strangely enough acquired more suspicious-looking stains than Jungkook remembers it having and the smell of feet radiating from the ice skates is especially strong today. 

Regardless, Jungkook doesn’t quite mind. 

He feels nothing short of fantastic. Could be the way the weather is getting warmer. Could be the way he woke up in Seokjin’s dorm for the third time this week. The jury is still out. 

“Hey, fucker,” it’s Jimin who snaps him out of whatever trance he had slipped into, brain replaying the recreational activities he and Seokjin partook in last night together. 

So what? Sue him.

“What?” Jungkook says, not even bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice. He looks over to where Jimin is trapped between the counter and Taehyung, their bodies close enough together to raise suspicion. 

“You’re in a good mood. Like, too much of a good mood. Me and Taehyungie are practically grinding in front of you and you haven’t complained once.”

“You guys like fucking in public only to get a rise out of people? Is that it?”

“That’s not all of it,” Taehyung admits, probably too honest. 

“Is it Jin hyung?” Jimin’s swollen lips pull into a shit-eating grin. 

“So what if it is?” 

He’s not hiding the fact he’s super into Seokjin anymore. He figures that’d be a pretty weird thing to do regarding your boyfriend, anyway, but he’s also trying this new thing where he actually talks about his feelings instead of pushing them off until they blow out of proportion. He threw away the key to the icebox inside ever since the night at the party last week. 

“I should make fun of you for being so whipped. It’s worse than Hobi and Yoongi hyung.” Taehyung points a finger at him, giggling like an idiot. 

“Those two are actually pretty cute,” Jimin says quietly like it’s a secret between just he and Taehyung. 

“Duh, so are Jin hyung and JK, but I don’t want them to know that.”

“I can hear everything you two are saying,” Jungkook informs them, to which the couple rolls their eyes. 

“Whatever,” Jimin throws a hand at him, pushing Taehyung out of his space just so he can sit up on the counter. He expertly conceals the way he’s hard while he’s at it. “All jokes aside, I’m happy for you. No more ditching people after two weeks of dating while you simultaneously pretend like Seokjin hyung is satan incarnate.”

Before Jungkook can defend himself, there’s the creak of the door behind them, Yoongi slipping out. 

“Jimin-ah,” he greets, “I see you still have no other hobbies besides groping your boyfriend in public.”

“Yoongi hyung,” Jimin nods back, “I see you still have that massive stick up your ass.”

“Oooh,” a new voice joins the conversation, turning the group’s attention to where the rest of their friends are now walking in. “We’re talking about Yoongi hyung’s ass? I got here just in time.”

“Please, keep it in your pants, Hoseok.” Namjoon groans, face twisting in something akin to disgust. 

“You’re no fun,” Hoseok pouts at him.

“It’s a Thursday afternoon.”

“Thursday means hockey practice,” Taehyung confirms for no one in particular. “Hi, hyung’s.”

They return their greetings in a mess of words, a smile growing on Jungkook’s lips when he catches Seokjin’s eye. He likes him so much. It’s super embarrassing, probably. 

“I see you guys are making good use of your time today,” Seokjin nods his head in the direction of Taehyung. “Nice boner.”

There’s a mild protest coming from Jimin and Taehyung, but neither Seokjin nor Jungkook hears it as Seokjin gravitates towards the latter. The smile Jungkook has on is big now. Definitely embarrassing. 

“Hi, pretty,” Seokjin greets him.

Jungkook likes when Seokjin calls him things like that. Secretly, or maybe not so secretly, he always has. Every time he does, Jungkook feels like it’s the first time again. Seokjin can make him feel like for a lot of things. 

“Hey,” Jungkook returns, the way he’s looking at Seokjin coming with metaphorical hair twirling probably. 

“What are you doing after this?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook says. “Hockey house party?” 

He’s joking, so Seokjin laughs. “You’re funny. I think my excellent sense of humor is rubbing off on you.”

“Relax, big boy.”

“Oh, wow,” Seokjin holds a hand over his chest, “call me that in the bedroom.”

“Die.”

“Not yet,” Seokjin waves him off like it’s nothing, “I wanna take you out later. Are you free?”

“For you?” Jungkook cocks his head to the side. “Yes.”

“Who knew you could be so charming when you’re not trying to strangle me.” Seokjin snickers, leaning in the press the smallest of kisses to Jungkook’s nose. They both ignore the way their friends immediately make fun of them for it. 

“That was a phase.”

“Yeah, a fucking long one.” Seokjin laughs a little louder this time, backing away from the counter. “I’ll see you after, ok?” 

“Ok,” Jungkook confirms with a nod of his head. 

And after they fire off a few more insults among the group and call them goodbye’s, they part ways and everything else falls back into place. Jimin and Taehyung are close enough to be one body, Yoongi is impossibly whipped while watching Hoseok, and Jungkook makes it his mission to watch Seokjin. 

His Seokjin; senior, hockey team captain, and definitely not his sworn enemy.