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jeonqkooks · 2 years

Text

strictly platonic | jjk

Sometimes, Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

pairing: jungkook x reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre: best friends to lovers, college au, fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut

warnings: jk is kinda annoying sometimes but he isn’t bad yk, jk being a dumb dumb and emotionally constipated, inexperienced reader, pining!, swearing, mention of inflation 😔, mention of alcohol consumption, half a second of toxic jealousy, denial of feelings, big dicc!jk obvi, kissing, making out, fingering, protected sex, dirty talk, breast play, riding, multiple orgasms, crying during seggsy time, stomach bulging

word count: 19.4k

playlist: daylight - taylor swift; from afar - vance joy

note: the closer i was to finishing this fic, the more anxious i became and as i’m writing this a/n, i’m a blubbering mess of nerves 🥴 this is a result of me being obsessed with college au’s and the classic bff2l trope, and she’s also the longest piece i’ve written!! idk i guess that’s it. oh and kudos to whoever can spot a tongue tied reference <3

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Over the years, you have accumulated a list of annoying things about Jeon Jungkook.

He’s very loud, and has absolutely zero subtlety. He’s competitive—perhaps to an alarming extent—and chews with his mouth open sometimes. He’s way too stubborn for his own good and would rather eat soap than admit he’s in the wrong. He’s childish and full of pride at the same time, which is always a combination for disaster.

He can be selfish though he doesn’t mean to; maybe it’s just a side effect of being an overgrown baby. He needs to cuddle when either of you sleeps over, or else he gets agitated and won’t stop whining until you slot yourself into his side.

Jungkook hogs the blanket. He forces you to go on 6AM runs with him. He thinks everything you own is also his by extension, but not vice versa. He constantly blasts music while you’re trying to study, and only turns it down a couple notches when you threaten to tell his mom about that time he was in middle school and broke one of her previous vases, but somehow managed to pin it on the dog.

Despite all that, Jungkook is very charming, effortlessly so. Ever since he had that growth spurt at 14, girls started flocking to his side and vying for his attention, and surprisingly, his previously quiet self morphed into someone more confident and outspoken.

Throughout high school and now halfway into university, Jungkook has become the person that guys wanted to be, and girls wanted to be with.

He looks as if Apollo had descended from the heavens and made himself home among mere mortals. With fluffy dark hair, sparkly Bambi eyes, a jawline that can cut glass, and a well-toned body underneath his oversized hoodies, he’s the textbook definition of “boyfriend material”. Wherever he goes, Jungkook just exudes that charisma that makes people stop and say, “Wow. That. I want that. Where do I get myself someone like that? Do they sell them on Amazon?”

He’s smart in that casual and infuriating way where he still manages to ace all his classes without ever really trying. All his professors adore him even though he’s almost always late to class and hands in his assignments at least a few days late without giving any kind of notice or excuse.

Jungkook seems like the total package—someone that mothers would love to call their son-in-law. (But, not everyone is privy to all his flaws like you are.)

And if all of that isn’t enough to knock the pants off of every wide-eyed college-aged girl, he’s a Fine Arts major who looks like he came straight out of a Pinterest moodboard, who wears a pair of those thin-rimmed glasses in class that always makes the TA just a little distracted. Who carries around a leather-bound journal wherever he goes like he’s a Shakespearean protagonist, just in case inspiration strikes and he needs a place for his sketches. It’s the journal that you saved up for three months to get him as a high school graduation gift, but also the very same one that everyone on campus daydreams about having a page dedicated to them in it.

(No one knows this other than a handful of his closest friends and family, but Jungkook doesn’t draw people, unless a school assignment requires him to do so. That’s his one rule when it comes to his creativity. He says it’s too easy, that the beauty of human beings is limited but more importantly, it’s fickle. Instead, he prefers to portray nature and inanimate objects, things that “remain eternal”, whatever the hell that means.)

There are, however, a couple of downsides to having godly looks and being the campus heartthrob.

You reckon this inconveniences you more than it does him. You can’t recall how many girls have come up to you for advice on how to approach him. Or how many love notes you’ve been asked to pass since ninth grade, only for him to skim and toss them.

(Jungkook doesn’t actually throw them away; he just never responds to any of them, thereby bestowing upon you the honor of watching smiles drop from eager lips when you regurgitate the same lines of “Sorry, he’s not looking to date right now” to his admirers.)

The attention gets to his head sometimes, but at least he’s never contracted the same asshole disease that guys get whenever someone throws a couple of looks their way.

You’re his messenger of heartbreak, as he once so annoyingly called it. It helps that he’s your best friend, and you make him treat you to a nice meal after each time. If it happens to be someone especially persistent who would constantly badger you unless you give them his phone number, he would throw in five extra coffees for all your troubles.

What doesn’t make it easier, though, is the fact that you’re also one of those lovestruck girls whose heart he breaks on a daily basis, but you’ll never let him in on that little secret.

You’ve known him nearly all your life, and you’ve been in love with him for half that time.

You should’ve gotten started on your philosophy paper ages ago, aka three weeks prior when your professor sent out reminders telling your class to do just that. But what have you been up to instead? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Well, you’ve been entertaining your clown of a best friend through all his shenanigans, but you always do that anyway.

Granted, the paper shouldn’t even be that long—5 pages maximum, no external sources needed beside the weekly class readings—but what’s important is the principle right? You need to start holding yourself to higher standards now that you’re starting an internship soon.

Nevertheless, you left your assignment until the very end again, and now the paper is due in two days. As you hunch over your laptop at your desk, trying to compare and contrast the differences between Plato and Aristotle, your main distraction rolls into the room like a tornado.

“Eunji broke up with me,” Jungkook declares loudly as he barges in, drops his backpack to the floor with a thud, and plops onto your bed. He doesn’t even need to check to know where you are; he just buries his face into a pillow and groans in frustration.

You’re not fazed by his sudden entrances anymore. He does this at least once a day, just storming into your place and making himself at home. To be fair, it’s probably your fault for giving him a key, but oh well, he gets best friend privileges you suppose.

“Congrats?” you say confusedly as you swivel your chair around to face him. “I thought you wanted to break up with her?”

He straightens his form as much as he can on your too small bed, and props himself on an elbow to look at you. “Did you not hear me?” he says with a frown. “She broke up with me. I got dumped!”

You roll your eyes but you entertain him with a scandalized gasp anyway. “How dare she! This is unacceptable!” Maybe it’s a little too much, because he’s glaring at you and proceeds to chuck a stuffed koala on the bed at your head.

“It’s not funny!” Jungkook groans again, louder and more dramatic this time as his limbs flail about like a petulant child. “I’m heartbroken. Get the stash.”

“The stash” is your drawer of fancy snacks reserved only for special occasions or emergencies.

He’s weaseled his way into The Stash more than you. Another annoying thing about Jungkook is that he steals your food.

“Stop being dramatic, and stop getting into my stash! Inflation is going up and you know how expensive those vinegar chips already are.”

It’s a losing battle; you know it every time you open your mouth to scold him.

When he sits up, crawls his way over to the edge of the bed, juts out his bottom lip and widens his eyes to stare at you like a Golden Retriever, you feel yourself melt a little at the sight. Sure, you’ve developed somewhat of a tolerance to it after him having pulled this trick on you countless times before, but that doesn’t mean you’re immune to it.

You groan and go to fulfill his request, sullenly throwing him the bag of chips and a couple of candy bars. Jungkook punches the air triumphantly.

Anywho, he goes into detail about how he had envisioned the whole ordeal to go, what he was going to say to Eunji to soften the blow of the breakup because as much as he thought they were a bad fit together, he still wanted to be cordial and maybe even remain friends in the future.

That all went out the window when she suddenly stopped him before he could launch into a big speech though.

“She said she wanted to get back with her ex!” he recants exasperatedly, stuffing his face with the chips you bought with your hard-earned money. “Jinyoung or Junyoung or whatever the hell his name is. The one that looks like the flounder from The Little Mermaid and ran into the basketball pole that one time!”

“That’s mean.”

“It’s true, I saw it happen!”

You tear into a candy bar and take a bite. “So you got your ego bruised. Big whoop.”

“But it’s… It’s not something that happens to me often! Or ever!”

“You’re not the center of the universe. You sound like a douchebag.”

“Don’t.” Jungkook gives you a pointed look. “You know I’m not like that.”

“Yeah, I know,” you shrug indifferently, “but you sound like it.”

He grunts in response and goes back to his top priority mission of dropping crumbs all over your bed. You both munch on your respective treats in silence for a few moments. With your eyes trained on nothing in particular, you think about Plato’s ideal state and how much he believed humans were rational beings capable of establishing structured societies. Truth be told, that’s really all you got. You haven’t been doing a very good job at paying attention in this class.

The muscle bunny next to you clears his throat, breaking your train of (very limited) thoughts on Greek philosophers. He doesn’t meet your eyes, only keeps them fixed on the bag of chips in his hands.

“So, um,” he starts, fingers fiddling with the paper wrapping, “I might have said something to Eunji after she said she wanted to break up.”

“What?” You raise a questioning eyebrow. He hesitantly looks at you and you gasp. “Jungkook! Did you slutshame her?”

“The fuck– No! Why would I do that?!”

“Then what did you do?”

“I told her…” he stammers before dropping the bag in his lap and raising his hands up in surrender. “Wait, you have to promise me you won’t be mad.”

“Jungkook,” you warn, narrowing your eyes at him, cautious of what he has to say. “What did you do?”

“You have to promise me first.”

“Just freaking tell me, you dipshit.”

“If you won’t promise me–”

“Ugh, fine! I promise! Now what the fuck you say to do Eunji?”

Jungkook threads his fingers together and stares at you like he’s an anchorman about to give you the latest news of the day. “I told her I wanted to break up because you and I want to date.”

Alarms ring and sirens blare. Your heart stutters foolishly in your chest. Bits of chocolate get lodged in your throat.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck!” you screech in disbelief. “Jeon Jungkook!” Grabbing the nearest pillow, you whack him directly in the face. The man tumbles off your bed with a high-pitched squeal, taking the half-eaten bag of chips along with him. Golden crisps fly everywhere.

“Ow! What the fuck? You promised!”

“What the fuck do you mean “What the fuck?” Jungkook! Why would you say that?!”

The man rubs the spot on his ass where he landed on, and glares at you with those stupid eyes of his.

“I couldn’t think of anything else!”

“Oh, you dipshit.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and exhale in frustration. “Why didn’t you tell her what you were supposed to in the first place?”

“What, that I thought we weren’t compatible? Yeah, right. The girl had just told me she wanted to be with another dude. Anything I said afterward that didn’t involve me dating someone else would sound like I only wanted to save face.”

“You do only want to save face,” you deadpan. Why does he have the mindset of a 12-year-old girl?

“Well she doesn’t need to know that,” he shrugs, picking a chip off the floor and throwing it in his mouth. Ugh, gross. “Anyway, the damage is done. Sue me.”

“Oh my God,” you groan in absolute vexation. “How do you manage to get more stupid by the day? Okay, fine. Now you’re just gonna be even more embarrassed when she finds out that you lied, because you and I are not dating.”

Jungkook rubs his imaginary beard for a few seconds, still sitting among the chaos of sliced potatoes and humming as if in thought. “I’ll figure something out.”

You chuck your almost-finished candy bar at him, which he catches and eats the last piece. “God, whatever. It’s your problem. Now clean this up.” You gesture to the mess in the room.

“You made me fall.”

“I don’t care. Clean it up!”

“...Yes ma’am.”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“What? And stop saying my full name.”

“Well, then stop telling me to kiss you.”

“Why not? It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Jungkook!” you shove him in the shoulder. “We were in the second grade!”

“So? Still counts. I tell everyone you were my first kiss.”

Your frown falters to make room for surprise. That’s… new.

You were in primary school; obviously he was your first kiss too. You don’t go around telling people that though.

“Why don’t you just… I don’t know, find someone new to date? It’s not like there’s a short supply of people who would be willing to do that,” you deflect.

Jungkook has been bothering you all morning with this absurd idea. Your paper is due in six hours and he keeps moping around your room, begging for your help in his dumbass plan.

(The plan in question—which he claims to have been birthed from his big wrinkly brain and bathed in brilliance—is to convince Eunji that you two really are in a budding romance.

The first step of this scheme of his? Post a picture of you kissing.

Every other step after that? Pretend to be lovesick puppies every time you’re seen in public together. Which may also involve locking lips for people to see.)

“But I told her that there’s something going on between us!” He gestures to the both of you. “You and me! Specifically!”

“Sure, let’s assume that’s a valid argument–”

“Which it is.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Shut up. Hypothetically, I get why you’d think this could work. But why do we have to… kiss? Why can’t we just hold hands or cuddle or something?”

“Okay genius.” Jungkook pokes a finger at your temple. “We’re not exactly lowkey with the PDA. Everybody knows we do all of that. No one is going to believe it! The only things we haven’t done are kiss and fuck. Unless you want to make a sex ta–”

You wave your hands in the air to stop him from finishing that sentence as your cheeks heat up. He’s right; you’re just fishing for excuses at this point. It’s true that you two are quite affectionate with each other, even in public. You do everything that a couple does minus the, well, kissing and fucking—except whenever he has a girlfriend of course. You can’t count how many people have mistaken your friendship for something because from the outside, it does look that way, doesn’t it? You don’t like to dwell on this fact, but you can’t deny it either.

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up. Fine, why do you even have to post it online? Everyone on campus, and I mean everyone, would see it.”

“Well, duh.” It’s his turn to roll his eyes now. This motherfucker sure has a lot of attitude for someone who needs a favor. “I can’t exactly slide into Eunji’s DMs and randomly hit her up with a photo of us sucking faces.”

“We’re not sucking faces. Jesus– Okay, would the group know? How do you even expect to convince everybody else? You’re literally asking me to be your–” you swallow before continuing, “fake girlfriend.”

“The group” being all of your close friends. You have an odd pack of them, to be honest.

Taehyung is probably Jungkook’s second best friend only after you, what with being in the same major and having the same gaming interests. It’s uncanny how similar they are sometimes; it’s like two peas in a pod. Two peas that pass one brain cell back and forth in a game of mental dodgeball.

Namjoon is a senior whom you met while trying to sell an old bookshelf through Facebook Marketplace. You thought he was a creep at first; he had no profile picture and the only post on his timeline was from seven years prior, and it was a photo of a tree in black and white. When you arranged a meetup with him to exchange the goods, you made Jungkook go with you in case Namjoon was a kidnapper and/or murderer. Of course, that didn’t turn out to be true at all, and he’s been like an older brother to both you and Jungkook ever since.

Yerin is Namjoon’s ex, and it’s a wonder how they can be in the same tight-knit circle considering their history. But they always reassure everyone that the breakup was amicable and cordial, that there was no love lost between friends. Another fun tidbit is that they started out as roommates, and they still live in the same apartment to this day. Go figure.

It’s not surprising that they’re the most level headed out of all of you; you often joke that they’re like divorced parents to you, Jungkook and Taehyung.

Yerin might be the closest person you have to a role model. She’s calm and collected, but she never takes shit from anyone. You’re the only two girls, so that’s another reason why you’re naturally drawn to her. That, and the fact that she’s the one of the only two people who know about your little secret concerning a certain Bambi-eyed boy. (You like to think that you’re a good actress when it comes to pretending you only see Jungkook as a friend, but Yerin—and by extension Namjoon as well—is just ultra observant.)

And Yoongi… you don’t know why he’s even in the group, or how you all became friends with him in the first place. He graduated last year and is working part-time at the university as a TA while he figures out what he actually wants for a career. You reckon it might be a little late to start doing that, but oh well, everyone’s got their own process. (Come to think of it, you vaguely recall Jungkook adopting him into the group after he found the older man eating cheese sticks alone near a trashcan on campus and thought he was exuding “sad old man energy”.)

Jungkook gives you a devilish grin, and you already regret hearing what he has to say before he’s even uttered it. “Don’t you worry, sweet child. I have it all planned out.”

“Instead of working on your portfolio? Great use of your time by the way.”

“Zip it. Don’t distract me,” he chides and pats the top of your head. “We’ll spill after the photo goes up. Taehyung will definitely yell in the comments about how I didn’t tell him so at least that’ll look believable.”

It’s not like you’re entirely opposed to this idea. Sometimes when you’re cuddled up together in bed, watching a stupid movie of his choosing, you wonder what it’d be like to feel his lips on yours. Would they be as soft as they look? What kind of kisser is he? Is he the type to dive right in from the get-go—all hard and heated—or is he the type to start slow, ease you into it and douse your lips in warmth and honey before finally prying your mouth open with his tongue?

Every time you think about kissing Jungkook, it stings a little right where your heart is. Every time you think about anyone else kissing Jungkook, it hurts even more.

You want to kiss him, God knows you do; you just hope that if there was ever a day where he wanted to kiss you too, it’d be sincere and real.

Not just for show because he can’t stand to lose to his ex-girlfriend in a game where he’s the only player.

“Jungkook,” you sigh. You really don’t want to talk about this anymore. “I’m your friend, your best friend. Don’t you think it’d be weird if we kissed?” You take a breath before continuing. “I know it’s just pretend, but still.”

Even if you didn’t have feelings for him, it would be weird as hell. You don’t know anyone who has tested the waters of friendship and kissed, on the mouth, regardless of the circumstances, and lived to tell the tale. It always implodes.

Actually, maybe that’s not entirely true. People are a lot more open-minded now, and mere kisses don’t mean as much as they used to. But to you, they still do. Especially a kiss with Jungkook. Especially when you’re in love with him.

“It won’t be weird. My cousin makes out with his neighbor all the time and they’re still friends,” he shrugs.

“They what– How is that remotely related to this? They’re not best friends.”

“Exactly! We’re best friends. We’re too close for anything to come between us. I mean, you’ve seen me naked before.”

“Dipshit, you were changing and left your door wide open!”

He only shrugs again. The nerve on this clown. It’s true what they say, isn’t it? All men have is the audacity.

You punch him in the arm and trudge over to your bed, plopping onto it with an exasperated groan. Every minute that passes by is a minute that you should be reading about Greek philosophers, not arguing with your friend about his godforsaken brain babies.

The bed dips beside you, and something shifts in the air. Jungkook tugs on your hand and pouts, whipping out the puppy dog eyes again. You turn away from him and face the wall.

If you give in to this, you’re not sure if you’d be able to act normal around him again. Not after having had a taste of what it’s like to kiss him. To be with him, to be loved by him in that way.

You don’t know what you’d do if your friendship suffers the consequences of this reckless decision. He’s one of the most important people in your life—your less-than-platonic feelings for him notwithstanding. You grew up together, you’re each other’s rock and strongest support system, you know one another better than you know yourselves.

He’s your chosen family, and the bond that you two have is the most special you’ll ever know. He’s the only one you want to comfort you when you’re feeling low, and the only one you come running to to share your happiness. He’s your person, and you know you’re his person too.

His. In more ways than one.

“Hey.” You feel his arm wrap around you and pull you toward his body, your back pressed against his chest. “Sorry for being annoying about this,” he says more softly now, and for a second you think he’s about to nix the topic completely, seeing your reluctance to participate. But then he continues and you remember that he’s still your good old stubborn Jungkook.

“I promise it’ll be fine. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s not like we have feelings for each other, right? We’ll know that it’s not real.”

You’ve lost all mental capacity to ponder about Aristotle at this point. You remain silent, too lost in your head about this whole fake kissing fiasco. While all of these thoughts and scenarios are running through your mind, your best friend is completely oblivious. He’s only thinking about how to one-up another girl.

When you take too long to respond, he shuffles nervously on the bed. “You’ll do it, right? We’re good?” he asks. “Because I have to head to a class right now…”

No. The simple word sits on the tip of your tongue, caged in by your teeth. If only you could open your mouth and hurl it at his head.

No. You use it every day with ease. You say it politely preceding a Thank you when the cashier at the convenience store asks if you’d like to buy a chocolate chip cookie to accompany your best friend’s banana milk. You say it with slight annoyance in your voice when your mom asks if you have a boyfriend yet. You say it casually and teasingly when Yoongi asks if he could have one of your friends’ phone number.

So why can’t you say it to Jungkook now? Every fiber of your being is resisting his plan, but the motor cortex in your frontal lobe just won’t let you verbalize it. When you really think about it, have you ever not gone along with his shenanigans, however stupid they may be? Sure, this one may take the cake as the most hare-brained conspiracy he’s come up with, but the person asking for your help is still him.

You heave a sigh and squeeze your eyes close. “Shut the fuck up and go to class, Jungkook. I have a paper to finish.”

The man leans closer to you warily until his lips are right next to your ear, thinking it’s a good sign that you haven’t shut down his idea.

“Fine. I’m going now,” he whispers. “Love you, bye bye.”

Thirty seconds pass and his face is still hovering over your head. You know what he wants. You say it so he’ll finally leave you alone, all the while wishing that there isn’t an alternative meaning behind your words.

“Love you too…”

He grins and presses a quick kiss to your temple. “See ya later!” he calls as he dashes out the door.

Sometimes, Jungkook can be selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

Fortunately, you managed to finish that dreadful paper ten minutes before the deadline. Unfortunately, that was the last thing on your to-do list of high priority tasks, and you had no other excuse to avoid being roped into Jungkook’s scheme.

There is one thing that might deter him, though. You could tell Yerin about this whole thing and she and Namjoon would be more than willing to shut it down for you before anything happens.

You could, but you don’t.

Honestly, the logic of the plan seems flawed, but that’s not something that you’re too focused on in all of this.

Oh, those two are going to have a field day picking apart your brain, aren’t they?

You’re sitting next to Jungkook on your bed, nervously toying with the loose threads of your shirt as he prepares to enact the first phase of his plan. He’s even gone as far as to dub your room “campaign headquarters”.

“Your dozens of admirers are gonna hate me,” you tell him. “They’ll say I sabotaged them to get you all to myself.”

He tilts his head to look at you. “But you don’t usually care about stuff they say.”

“I don’t,” you agree, sighing. “Okay, what if I want to get a boyfriend?”

“Do you?”

“No, but what if I change my mind–”

“You’re stalling,” he says. “I know I’ve been bugging you but you don’t have to do this if you aren’t 100% on board.”

“I know. I just…”

You just what? How do you tell him that once you do this, it’ll just make it infinitely more difficult to pretend you’re not in love with him?

Jungkook takes your hand in his and squeezes gently as the atmosphere turns more serious. “It’s me,” he tries to soothe you, even if he doesn’t know exactly what for. “It’s just me.”

You take a breath before you can look at him. When your eyes lock, he just smiles, and you can’t believe that you’re about to kiss that smile.

“Okay, so what do we do?”

“Just be normal. You’ve kissed other people before. If it makes things easier, pretend I’m Eunwoo.”

Your mind is too troubled to notice how his jaw slightly tenses as the words leave his mouth.

“Yeah,” you exhale, “okay.”

You had a thing with Cha Eunwoo last year. He was nice, very handsome, and he asked you out after you did a group project together for class. He was always the perfect gentleman, and he genuinely seemed to care about you. If things were different, you think you might’ve actually wanted to pursue a serious relationship with him.

But after three months, Eunwoo broke things off though you couldn’t say that you didn’t see it coming. He was about to go on exchange for six months abroad, but that’s not why the relationship fell apart. He was willing to do long distance with you, but he said he felt like you were always putting him second after Jungkook, and he didn’t think that would change any time soon. If your best friend was first priority while he was still there, what would it be like when he was gone?

Well, maybe Namjoon and Yerin aren’t the only people who are privy to your little secret. You reckon Eunwoo must have known about it too, because the last thing he said to you was “Call me when you figure it out.” You never did though.

You didn’t tell Jungkook this; you only said that the pair of you just didn’t think long distance would work, but you’d always have a soft spot for Eunwoo.

Jungkook starts the timer on his camera and turns to you. Ten seconds, you can do this. Think of Eunwoo’s gorgeous eyes and that pretty smile. Just pretend he’s Eunwoo. Pretend he’s Eunwoo…

You close your eyes as he leans in. Eunwoo’s face pops up in your head.

Ready. Set. Action.

Your lips touch, and as quickly as Eunwoo appeared in your mind, he vanished just as fast. Something within you shatters but you ignore it for now; you can always open that door later. Right now, there’s only Jungkook—simultaneously in the center of your mind, at the forefront, lingering in the back…

Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook…

With his lips pressed against yours, he waits for the sound of the camera going off before pulling away from you, but he doesn’t stray too far.

A second isn't nearly enough to answer all your questions about what it’d be like to kiss him, but at least you’ve been allowed a glimpse into it now.

It happened in a flash but it felt like an eternity. In that split second, the fantasies in your head came true and fizzled out all at once. In that fleeting moment, you could pretend that he was yours, in every sense of the word. You could pretend that it was only one out of countless kisses you two would share. You could pretend that there wasn’t any line to tiptoe or any word that you had to keep unsaid.

If only briefly, you could pretend that Jungkook loved you, in the way that you’ve always wanted him to.

A lifetime within a second, and you’re oh so tempted to never leave that illusion.

He tilts his head and grins like he just won you a stuffed animal at the carnival. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Your faces are still way too close for comfort. You don’t even think you’ve been breathing. It feels like an airbag was deployed within your chest when your heart crashed so suddenly against your ribcage, but you soldier on.

Clearing your throat, you punch him in the arm. “You better hope you didn’t give me any disease.”

He scoffs playfully and turns away to grab the phone. He examines the photo and when he deems it good enough to post, a tiny twisted part deep in your psyche wants to object, to find any reason to dismiss the picture he took just to have a reason to do it again.

You watch him type in a cheesy caption, ‘Been a long time coming,’ along with your username and a purple heart tacked on at the end, and send it out for the whole world to see.

There’s really no going back now.

Jungkook was right though; Taehyung is one of the first people to comment on the post.

vantae: BRO FOR REAL?? NO WAY WTFFFFF

jaykay97: @vantae 😉

He turns to you when his other college friends start to come through with their own comments expressing surprise or congratulations. He gives you a grin, one that’s blinding and makes his eyes crinkle.

“I’ll refill The Stash for you.”

“Hey, what the fuck?” Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes at Jungkook. “What do you mean it’s not real? Your tongue was in her mouth.”

“His tongue was not in my mouth, oh my God.” You reach across the table and smack him over the head, knocking off the glasses perched on his nose in the process. “The photo is… real. But we’re not dating.”

Jungkook silently nods in agreement beside you as Taehyung sends you a glare.

“Why are you two doing this again?” Yerin speaks up from his place next to Namjoon. Her stare burns into the side of your face so intensely that you can’t meet her eyes. You know she’ll drag you somewhere to talk later.

You turn to your best friend and nudge his shoulder; he sighs and gives the gang a full recap of what happened—mainly his initial stupidity that led you both to this.

Okay, so maybe it’s not that long of a story. He takes about two minutes to fill them in on everything and by the time he’s finished, everyone stays mostly quiet. You don’t know how you expected them to react, but this isn’t it. It’s like they’re privy to a secret that you weren’t let in on.

“And here I thought it only happens in the movies, right?” you half-heartedly joke.

Namjoon and Yerin seem to share the same sentiments. They look at each other for a few seconds, silently communicating in that way that they do. It’s annoying sometimes, but right now it just makes you feel uneasy.

Maybe being silent isn’t an odd response for Yoongi; he’s like that most of the time anyway. Still, it adds to your nervousness.

Meanwhile, Taehyung is evidently disappointed. “You couldn’t have said Somi instead? That girl has a fat ass crush on you and she’s hot as fuck.” Classic Kim Taehyung.

“Shut up, Tae,” Jungkook rolls his eyes and flips off the other art student. “I’m not into Somi, and I said I couldn’t think of another excuse, didn’t I?”

He sounds strangely irritated. Perhaps it’s due to all the attention in the room being directed at him (and you, but mostly him) for a reason that he doesn’t particularly enjoy. Like someone has laid egg shells all over the floor, your friends are having a hard time approaching the issue with Jungkook.

Namjoon is the first to offer some serious talk. “Kook,” he says, still searching for the right words, “have you really thought this through?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is this really the best idea?” Then Namjoon’s eyes flicker to you for a split second and you gulp. “I mean, have you thought about the consequences it might have?”

There’s a slight scowl on Jungkook’s face when he answers. “Consequences? The hell are you talking about?”

“I’m only trying to–”

“Hyung, can you just get off my back?” he snaps. “It’s my business, okay?”

It’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice at Namjoon, or at any of you, really.

The older man retreats instantly, not pushing to talk to someone who’s clearly not interested in listening.

A moment of silence ensues, but it doesn’t last long before Taehyung diffuses the tension with a change of topic, prompting a conversation about some gossip he heard about a frat house on campus. Even Yoongi joins in as an attempt to make the air feel lighter. Everyone soon drifts away from your situation with Jungkook, but he doesn’t contribute anything to the chatter after his little outburst.

He doesn’t like it when people question his decisions and judgment, but he’s never been unreasonably closed off to it. Not that he’s being unreasonable now, but it toes that line a little. Maybe he’s just in a bad mood today.

Eventually, Jungkook slips away to the balcony to get some air. You follow him out after some minutes.

“So…” you start, hoping he’ll at least talk to you. You bump your hip against his.

“What? Are you here to lecture me too?”

It’s cool outside tonight. You’re grateful for the late summer chill for providing you with some much needed fresh air. From here, you can see cars passing on the streets. Someone is out walking their dogs. A few more people are strolling about with their arms full of liquor bottles. Right in front of the building, there’s a middle-aged man with a small food truck. The smell of tokbokki wafts all the way up to you on the fourth floor, and it makes you a little hungry.

“You know Namjoon didn’t mean anything bad,” you sigh.

“Yeah.” Jungkook looks down at the ground and kicks at a fallen leaf from a plant. “But did he have to talk to me like I’m a child? Like I don’t know any better?”

“Don’t be too hard on him.” Your hand comes up to rub his back soothingly. “He’s just worried.”

“Why?” he asks. “Is there something he should be worried about?”

There’s a moment where you two just look at each other. The air thickens in a way that you don’t like despite the breeze that passes by. Stars in the sky mimic the ones in his eyes, and you feel an urge to get lost in the sparkling orbs staring back at you. It’s almost maddening what you would do to get them to keep twinkling for you forever.

There’s something unfamiliar in his expression, with his lips slightly pursed and a small furrow in his brows. You dislike it even more than the tension in the atmosphere; you’ve always been able to read him like he’s your favorite book.

You break away from his eyes with a clear of your throat. “I don’t know. I’m just saying that it’s not hard to understand where he’s coming from.”

Jungkook opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but then he just settles for a hum as he turns to look at the streets again. The conversation dies at that, and you slip away again.

It’s been weird tonight, from your friends’ reactions to the way Jungkook is acting while he’s supposed to be the “mastermind” in all of this. You’ve been trying to be as normal as you can around him to not jeopardize everything you two have, and you can’t help but be a little irked at his behavior right now.

When you go back inside, Yerin pulls you to the kitchen for some privacy.

“That was some interesting news tonight,” she says, sipping on her bottle of cider as she eyes you.

You swallow and nod slowly. You’ve been expecting a Yerin talk.

“What’s your game plan here?” she asks when you don’t say anything else.

“I don’t know.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance though you know you don’t have to in front of her. “There’s no game plan. I’m just going along with what he wants.”

She frowns and sets the bottle on the white marble counter. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“You always “going along” with what he wants. Always putting him before yourself. You can’t keep doing this forever.”

Like Namjoon, Yerin is just worried. You get that, and you would be the same way if you were in her shoes.

“It’s not that simple.” Oh, but it is. “He’s my best friend.”

And there’s that excuse again. You can’t count how many times you’ve taken advantage of this title to justify your actions, your willingness to do anything for Jungkook under the guise of only being his best friend and not because you would trade the sun for his happiness for a reason far beyond that. Sometimes you think it’s pathetic.

“You could’ve told him no. He’d never force you into anything,” she says, but then her voice softens as she continues, her eyes sympathetic when they meet yours. “Are you hoping something would come out of this?”

There it is. The one question you wished she wouldn’t ask.

You avoid her gaze, preferring to train your eyes on the tiny droplets that collect outside the cider bottle instead. They roll down the side of the plastic when the moisture gets too heavy, and make a tiny pool where the bottle connects with the counter.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” you settle for eventually.

“What am I gonna say?” Yerin inquires.

“That I’m stupid, and reckless.”

“Not stupid,” she counters with a shake of her head, “but yes, I think you’re being reckless.”

“It’ll be fine,” you say with shaky finality. The words sound resolute, but underneath that shell, they’re mangled. As much as you want to believe them, you know deep down that you don’t.

Over the next weeks, it happens again a few times. It being the kiss. A few times being five, because you’ve definitely been keeping track. Although they have technically been more like pecks than kisses, each one lasting approximately 1.2 second.

Holding hands on campus, resting your head on his shoulders when you’re sitting beside him under the old tree near one of the old university buildings—things that you’ve always been doing, but now accentuated with a smooch on the lips here and there.

Yeah, people seem to buy it.

People including Eunji.

Truth be told, you don’t think they care that much. (Perhaps with the exclusion of Jungkook’s not-so-secret admirers who glare at you every time you walk by.) You suppose that like with any other new couple on campus, after that initial Oh, cool reaction, there’s not really much thought to be had afterward. You’ve tried voicing your observation to Jungkook, but he’s adamant that this is “the way to go”, which is vague and cryptic and how he is sometimes.

You’re not sure what it means, but as always—and cue a big sigh—you go along with it. You handle it… decently. Like with everything else Jungkook does that has an effect on you, you’ve tried to build a tolerance to the occasional peck.

Every time he kisses you, you act like it’s the first time. He gives you a warning before he does it so you aren’t startled. Nevertheless, you’ve developed somewhat of a routine before each kiss so you don’t completely freak out and collapse afterward. It goes like this: Clench your jaw, inhale deeply, peck!, exhale.

Your heart constantly complains, and you more or less successfully ignore it.

Yerin and Namjoon, being Yerin and Namjoon, try to talk you out of it before someone gets hurt. You, being you—aka pathetically in love with your best friend, don’t listen.

That, and the fact that having the title of being his (fake) girlfriend makes you feel a certain way.

Maybe you can’t shit on him for being stubborn when sometimes you’re just as headstrong.

That’s why you’re at this party with the rest of the group (sans Yerin, because she doesn’t do frat parties) at one of the frat houses, holding Jungkook’s hand. The beer you’re sipping helps quell the butterflies in your stomach when he mindlessly rubs your thumb.

Suddenly, he tips his head somewhere to the right, where you see Eunji leaning against someone you assume to be the ex she recently got back together with. Jungkook quirks a brow and blinks fast at you.

“Are you having a stroke?”

He rolls his eyes and puckers his lips slightly before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Eunji is here. With the flounder! So you know….”

Your jaw tenses and you take a deep breath, not even questioning him if this is necessary anymore. Your eyelids fall as he surges forward, but to your surprise, you don’t get to exhale as quickly as you normally would.

The count remains at five. Five pecks that last a total of one second.

But there’s a new count that pops up on the chart.

Number of pecks that last a total of three seconds: 1.

When Jungkook pulls away, you swallow dryly and finally breathe out. Namjoon clears his throat awkwardly, having watched the whole exchange.

Your best friend doesn’t speak; instead he just stares at you. He doesn’t look to see if Eunji or anyone else is watching, like he usually does. He just looks at you.

You’re hyper aware of how loud the music is and how his lips overwhelm the taste of alcohol in your mouth. How he’s still rubbing your thumb.

“I’m just gonna get another drink,” you croak the words out, and you disappear into the crowd before Jungkook can say anything.

The kitchen is just as packed as the living room, but you needed to get away for a while. The countertops here are sticky with spilled alcohol and reeks of drunken bodies.

You turn around when a hand taps your shoulder, and almost choke when you see who it is that’s offering you a hug.

“Oh, Nayoung, hi!” you chirp awkwardly as you accept her embrace. It’s less than graceful, but then again, you two have never really been the best of friends, though it wasn’t for a lack of trying.

She was Jungkook’s last serious relationship before Eunji; they were together for about nine months before calling it quits. Out of everyone he has dated, you liked her the most. She has a bubbly personality, practically the embodiment of pure sunshine, and not to mention she’s one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen.

Come to think of it, you don’t think you know why she and Jungkook split in the first place. He’s told you before that they still talk occasionally—the pair didn’t end on bad terms—but that’s about it, no details whatsoever.

After the initial chit chat about what she’s been up to, what you’ve been up to, and the conventional commentary on the state of the party, Nayoung goes right into what you hoped she wouldn’t.

“I heard you’re dating Kook now,” she says after taking a sip of beer.

You fiddle with the cup in your hand and smile sheepishly at her. “Yeah, it just sort of happened…”

“I’m really happy for you.” A smile blooms on her lips, and you can tell that it’s genuine. “I’m glad he finally stepped up.”

The liquid in your cup sloshes slightly as you tighten your grip on the plastic. You stare at Nayoung, and you’re about to ask her what she means by that when someone spots her and calls her name loudly.

“Soyeon!” she squeals back at the other girl before turning to you. “I have to go say hi to her. But it was nice running into you. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

With that, she leaves, and you’re left standing in the kitchen with a bunch of people you don’t know and cheap beer you don’t like. Nonetheless, you pour more of the alcohol into your cup, stuff your mouth with a couple of potato chips and head back to find your friends.

Namjoon, Taehyung and Jungkook are nowhere in sight, but you spy Yoongi standing in the corner with a drink of his own, looking bored as usual and watching the drunks near him wobble until they collapse onto the couch.

You open your mouth to ask him where the others are, but you hear their voices before the question can come out. You peek over Yoongi’s shoulders to scan for them, and find Namjoon and Jungkook standing a few feet from where you are, with the latter wearing an annoyed expression on his face.

“How many times do I have to tell you? We're best friends. The best of besties,” Jungkook says, his tone more defensive than Namjoon thinks it should be. “I don’t even see her as a girl.”

Your feet cement themselves to the floor as you stand there, holding the red plastic in your hand and trying to keep a neutral expression on your face. Yoongi looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. He just offers you a sympathetic smile and you wonder if he knows.

You’ve been more distant since the night of the party, and Jungkook is willing to admit that it affects him in ways he doesn’t like. There’s something different about your dynamic that he senses, and he resents the fact that it doesn’t feel the same as it used to.

The cafe that he normally frequents is quieter than usual for a Saturday afternoon, and it does very little to distract him from the disturbance that’s afflicting his mind. Besides him and Taehyung sitting in their regular booth with their sketchbooks in front of them, there’s barely five other patrons in the coffee shop.

Every so often, Jungkook huffs and puffs, and it’s starting to annoy his friend.

“Okay, what’s up with you today, dude?”

“What?” Jungkook glances up from his journal and pushes his glasses further up his nose bridge. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Taehyung comments, sipping from his coffee and looking at the other man over the rim of the glass. “Is it about Y/N?”

“Why would it be about her?”

“I don’t know. You seem pretty… distracted lately. Trouble in fake paradise?”

Lead skids on paper and Jungkook’s movements come to a stop. His gargantuan eyes blink at Taehyung, who only shrugs and stares back.

“Why do you and Namjoon hyung keep nagging me about this?”

“I don’t know,” Taehyung repeats, and irritation begins to crawl up Jungkook’s spine. “If I were you and I had a best friend whom I kiss all the time, I don’t think I’d be able to keep things strictly platonic, you know?”

What is he trying to get at here? Jungkook was planning to come over to your dorm tonight for a one-on-one hangout, but now, he’s just gonna be in his head about what his friend is saying.

“Not all the time. Sometimes,” the younger man corrects. “And it’s not that big a deal. Just leave it alone.”

“I mean–”

“Taehyung.”

If another person were to insinuate something along these lines to him, he might actually get into a fight. Taehyung and Namjoon aren’t the first ones to do it, and frankly, Jungkook is getting tired of it.

People keep implying that there’s something going on between you and him when in reality, you’re his best friend and that’s it. But everyone just goes on wanting to uproot his entire life by trying to unravel his relationship with you.

You two have been this way since forever. It’s not that deep.

Jungkook sits in silence across from Taehyung for a long while after that, each of them working on their respective drawings while the cafe continues to be mostly empty.

He doesn’t notice when Taehyung stands up and makes his way to the other side of the booth to peek at his sketchbook. He’s just been mindlessly moving his pencil for the past hour; he does that sometimes, where he just lets his brain go rampant and his fingers glide through the paper seamlessly. Most of these times, he doesn’t have a specific vision in mind, and they often turn out to be some of the best works he’s ever drawn.

“Dude,” Taehyung almost gasps as he leans over the younger’s shoulders. It’s almost comical, really, how his mouth hangs open and his eyes widen.

Jungkook’s fingers halt, his eyes refocusing and taking in what his friend is looking at.

He gulps but his throat is dry, hastily closing the journal and stuffing it in his backpack. The chair scrapes loudly against the cafe’s wooden floors when he abruptly stands up, turning a couple of heads nearby. Taehyung calls after him but he’s already walking away, unable to stifle the restless feeling that gnaws on his guts.

Knock, knock, knock.

Hmm? You aren’t expecting anyone, are you?

When you open the door, the person standing on the other side of the threshold makes your heart leap to your throat.

He… knocks now?

“Koo,” you breathe, clearly surprised to see him. Or maybe you’re surprised at his unexpectedly good manner.

“‘Sup, dude?” He brushes past you into the room in that typical Jungkook fashion. “We haven’t hung out in forever.”

He’s carrying two paper bags that he holds up for you to see. When you lean closer to inspect them, it’s all of your favorites from the diner nearby. The scent emanating from the bags immediately makes your stomach growl.

“The last time you saw me was two days ago,” you say.

“Yeah, on campus. We haven’t properly hung out in weeks.”

“You’re so clingy, and needy.”

“I know you meant full offense when you said that, but none taken.” After setting up the food neatly on the floor, Jungkook goes to wash his hands in the bathroom. When he returns, he looks you straight in the eye. There’s that expression again, the one he wore on the balcony of Namjoon and Yerin’s apartment. “I’m only clingy with you.”

You wonder if he notices that you’ve been pulling away these past few days, though you can’t say that you’ve been distant. You just haven’t seen him everyday like you used to, and you’ve chalked it up to an overload of schoolwork which isn’t untrue.

As you begin to dig into the food he brought over, you can tell that he’s trying. To do what exactly, you don’t know, but you appreciate the effort anyhow. It’s not his fault that things feel weird between you.

Once everything has been devoured and your bellies are stuffed, you do what you always do. He brings your laptop from the desk and plops onto the bed next to you. By this point, you’re no longer surprised nor annoyed when he puts on a Spiderman movie for the umpteenth time. The film starts, and the familiar superhero in red and blue takes over your entire screen. But there’s something different now.

You’ve been sharing a bed with Jungkook since middle school; you’re used to this.

No. Correction: you’re used to comfortably sharing a bed with him. This, right here? This isn’t it. When did things start to change between the two of you?

Oh, you know. When you crossed that line of no return.

You lie there on the soft mattress and against the plushness of the pillows, but your body is stiff. If Jungkook is going through the same thing as you, he doesn’t let it show.

“Why are you so far away? Come here,” he says, and practically yanks you toward him until his arm is wrapped snugly around your shoulders. You’re still rigid against him and you think he notices it, because he starts to rub soothing circles into your skin. It works a little.

Halfway into the movie, you sag against his body. After a few minutes, he glances down at you and chuckles to himself when he spies your slightly open mouth as you calmly snooze.

See, Jungkook thinks, fucking Kim Taehyung and his nosy ass. This is fine.

His eyes roam your face and he realizes that he’s never seen you like this before, not really. You’re his best friend, his partner in crime, his keeper and his soulmate, if soulmates do exist. Before you’re any of those things, he has found you pretty since you were little kids. Since the second grade to be exact, after you shared your first kiss and you suddenly burst out crying because “boys have cooties”. When your entire face was flushed red, your eyes wet with tears that rolled down your cheeks and even snot running from your nose, there was only one word that popped into little 7-year-old Jungkook’s head. Pretty.

Maybe that’s why he tells people that you were his first kiss. Even though you were mere children, there’s some pride in boasting about sharing that experience with someone he thought was the prettiest girl in the world.

If he were to say it out loud, you would argue that it’s reductive to think that way, but you would blush nevertheless. You tend to do that whenever he compliments you. You hide it but he always notices.

Raising a hand to ghost over your cheek, he smiles when he remembers how you always say it’s unfair that he was blessed with such long eyelashes while yours barely kiss the top of your cheeks.

Slender fingers follow the bridge of your nose and brush back the curtain of hair that falls over the side of your face, covering your jawline. When you hum in your sleep and instinctively snuggle closer into his warmth and feather-light touches, his focus shifts to something that he probably shouldn’t be dwelling on.

Jungkook isn’t in primary school anymore; believe it or not, he’s an adult now. He doesn’t just think you’re pretty anymore, he knows you’re beautiful. But if he can see that, then so can others, and the thought of it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He feels like a creep, staring at you like this when you’re far away in dreamland, unaware of all the things running through his mind. It discombobulates him even more so when he can’t help but trace your lips with his thumb, gulping when he finds how soft they are, how lusciously pink they are. Must be from the lipbalm you always tell him he should use. Strawberry, was it? Maybe he should confirm that.

Every time that he’s kissed you thus far has been fleeting—barely even three seconds—and strictly for “business” purposes if you will. Trickery, put on for others to see.

But as he lies here with you cuddled up against him, Jungkook wants to shake you awake. Rouse you from slumber and kiss you until you’re breathless and clutching his arm in search of air. It would be so easy to do too, just a little nudge…

When you unconsciously clear your throat, Jungkook retracts his hand like he’s been burned. Fuck, what was that? he thinks. His entire chest rattles with the impact of his thoughts, and the realization that he can’t snap out of that daze. The urge to kiss you lingers like sweet petrichor after a rain shower. With a mind in overdrive and a heart that won’t calm down, he clenches and unclenches his fist, tries to take steady breaths, and fails to repress more thoughts about your lips. Meanwhile you’re right there, with barely any space between your bodies, blissfully unaware of his turmoil.

Glancing at the journal that spills out of his backpack from where it lays on the floor, he gulps as his conversation with Taehyung echoes in the background.

The next week is more or less the same. You keep maintaining some semblance of distance between you and Jungkook, in that you try to limit your time alone with him. He still walks you home from class—gotta keep up the charade, right?—and you still hang out as a group with all your other friends. But other than that, you’ve been making excuses to not have him over as much anymore.

It’s particularly hot today, considering autumn is starting to settle in and you’ve begun to bring out your warmer clothes. Must be summer saying its final goodbye.

You’re with your best friend on the way from your evening philosophy class back to your room. His pinky is hooked around your own, your hands swinging back and forth between your bodies as you relish in the last of the heat.

From the corner of your eye, you spy the familiar glow of green neon lights.

“Hey, let’s go there. I need–”

Silenced.

You flatline for a moment before you’re fully aware of what’s happening.

Jungkook’s mouth is suddenly on your mouth, his arm is encircling your waist; it’s been a few seconds and he isn’t pulling away. Instead, his lips are slowly moving and you find that yours are too. You let your eyelids fall as your hands grip the fabric of his shirt.

Your heart restarts and shifts into full gear every time his lips slot perfectly against yours. The taste of him is devastating, to say the least. You feel his other hand sneak up to cup your cheek and when he swipes his tongue your bottom lip, you gladly part way for him.

His arm tightens around you, effectively pulling you closer. A whimper escapes from your throat, muffled by his mouth, as his tongue dances with yours. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before. The fantasies explode in your brain like fireworks and this time, you get your answer.

When some guy on a bike breezes by and whistles loudly, you break away with heavy pants. Still mesmerized by his lips, you blink in a daze and swallow thickly.

“I, uh…” you mumble weakly. If Jungkook isn’t still wrapped around your body, you’re sure you would just fall to the ground. You want to keep kissing him, and you want to cry for some reason.

Your mind is still in shambles from the impact of his actions and in that moment, you forget that he isn’t yours to keep. Ignorance really is bliss, even if it’s only fleeting.

Alas, reality comes crashing down and the air gets knocked out of your lungs for a completely different reason. It’s similar to that feeling you get when you’re dreaming, and you’re falling, and the world shakes you into wakefulness.

He whips his head around and scans your surroundings for a few seconds before turning back to you with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I thought I saw Eunji. What were you gonna say?”

He seems unfazed, and the pieces inside of you fracture even more. The shards pierce everything they could find, like glass in your bloodstream.

Jungkook is stubborn, and childish, and selfish at times, and all of that leads to the thing that you hate most about him: Jungkook can be casually cruel.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek until the taste of him is replaced with something metallic. You point limply at the convenience store around the corner, trying to repress the burning sensation behind your eyes.

“Pads… I need to buy pads.”

He’s gone on many period supply runs for you before, so he’s very well versed in the type of pads you usually get and the roster of comfort snacks you need during that time of the month, which is not to be confused with what gets selected for The Stash.

Whenever Aunt Flow visits, Jungkook always makes sure that you have an array of your favorite chocolates, gummies, and that Honey Stars cereal you like to munch on. Sometimes, if he can afford to splurge a little more that month, he gets you a boba a day to help you cruise through the discomfort.

Your period is the only occasion where he tries to be less of a menace to you, partly because he knows how much you hate going through it, but mainly because you’re ten times more irritable and won’t hesitate to choke him with your bare hands. (This may or may not have happened once or twice.)

Today though, you seem distracted as you browse the aisles. Your hand grabs a packet of pads and you move quickly through the store. It isn’t the one that you normally use, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Maybe you’re trying out different things, who knows? Jungkook isn’t one to tell you how you conduct your business down there.

However, you completely pass by the chocolate shelves without even looking at them. It makes him frown, and he has to linger behind to grab the sweets before catching up with you and dropping them in your little basket. When you sense the extra weight in your grip, you send him an appreciative but uneasy smile, and his stomach immediately drops.

It was the kiss, wasn’t it?

Fuck. Did he make things weird?

You spend most of the shopping trip in silence, and it extends to the walk to your dorm too, excluding the few instances where he makes a silly comment about the mundane things you see on the way home, but you merely hum in acknowledgement.

“Dude,” Jungkook says when the two of you stop in front of your building, “you know I love you right?”

The words sound and feel strange as they come out of his mouth. Strained even to his own ears, foreign on his own tongue.

He’s suddenly nervous as he awaits your response. You’ve exchanged these words a thousand—maybe a million—times before. Not once has it felt like this.

Not once has the air been charged with such uncertainty.

You force a smile onto your face that he can see right through. “I know.” Your voice cracks a little but you immediately cover it up with a fake cough.

He’s about to ask if you want to watch a movie—one of your choosing this time—in an attempt to distill the tension, but you beat him to it with a bid of goodbye. You tell him that you’re tired and just want to sleep, and head inside.

As he stands there alone with only the flickering street lights for company, he frowns. Nerves dissipate in his stomach to make room for something else entirely. Something that sinks in his chest that’s probably not his heart.

Is it?

Either way, it doesn’t matter. What’s more important is that you didn’t say it back.

You’ve never not said it back before, no matter how upset you are with him.

You still said it back when Jungkook accidentally deleted a midterm paper on your laptop that you’d been working on for four days straight. You still said it back when he forgot that he’d promised to pick you up from class to take you dress shopping, and left you stranded in the rain with a broken umbrella for nearly an hour. Even when you had to miss a scholarship interview to take him to the emergency room for appendicitis, you still returned his sentiments.

Drunken or sober, the words still came out one way or another. You said it back every time, every single time…

But there you were, with your strained smile and hollow eyes, caging the words in and swallowing them down.

He shakes his head harshly to expel the thoughts. He looks up at your window before turning on his heels to leave. His fingertips twitch, as he recalls your afternoon together. The urge to grab a pencil and his beloved journal becomes too immense not to notice.

In the wise words of singer-songwriter extraordinaire Tove Lo: “Wanna get over, get under.”

Well, in your case, maybe you won’t be getting under anyone. More like, “wanna get over, eat your feelings, get a date and try to forget.”

Naturally, it’s a lot easier in theory.

The first step? You’ve got it covered. The Stash has nearly been emptied out over the past few days as you make up excuse after excuse to avoid Jungkook.

The second step? You didn’t have to look any further than your cousin and the guy she keeps wanting to set you up with.

It’s really just the third step that you’re having trouble with.

As you sit in this nice restaurant with your date, Seokjin, you find it quite challenging to focus on anything he’s saying.

He seems like a decent guy; charming, funny, not to mention tall and very handsome. Seems like the type of person you would be completely enamored with had your mind not been preoccupied by someone else.

Needless to say, the dinner isn’t going very well. You’re barely responding to any of his jokes or stories, and when he asks you about yourself, you only give him curt responses because you’re too busy thinking about another person.

You can’t remember why you thought this was a plausible idea in the first place.

You don’t notice that it’s been quiet for a few minutes while you pick at your salad and Seokjin watches awkwardly across from you. When a hand lands on your shoulder, you look up, but your date has both arms resting on the table.

A familiar voice calls your name.

“Jungkook,” you breathe as you look to your left, “what are you doing here?”

You can tell that he’s agitated; dare you say, even angry.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he barks at you, and you’re thankful that the table is hidden in the corner, where only the waiter nearby is nosy enough to pay attention to you.

Swallowing thickly, you utter, “I’m on a date.”

Jungkook is evidently unhappy with your answer, though you don’t think there’s any other explanation that he would be pleased with at the moment. He clenches his jaw so harshly that you fear it might snap from that sheer force. Turning his head slightly, he glares at the man sitting across, and his grip on your shoulder tightens.

“Your cousin said you were single,” Seokjin says frantically as his eyes dart between the two of you. You can’t blame him for jumping to conclusions. A guy showing up to your date looking pissed off as hell and you’re losing your voice like you’ve been caught in the act? Yeah, it’s fair to assume.

“I am!” You raise a hand in defense, turning away from your friend to face Seokjin. “He’s just a friend. I’m sorry, I– Jungkook!”

You can’t even finish your sentence before his hand moves to grab your wrist and yanks you to your feet. The waiter watches the scene unfold like it’s a soap opera as you get dragged out of the restaurant helplessly.

When you’re finally outside, you wrench your wrist from Jungkook’s hold but you’re still too stunned to say anything. He runs a hand through his hair and exhales in frustration.

“Get in the car,” he merely says, and surprisingly, you do without any protest.

You must have jinxed yourself back then, huh? You really thought this only happened in the movies.

The twenty-minute drive to your dorm is spent in absolute silence as he simmers in his anger while you organize the thoughts in your head, and the raging whirlpool of emotions that flood your body. After arriving at the building, you let him walk you up to your room and you let him come in. Only then do you find your voice again.

“What the fuck was that back there?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going on a date?”

“I didn’t have to tell you,” you counter, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“But…” He opts for the childish option. “We tell each other everything.”

“Yeah, well,” you mutter, “not everything.”

“What is that supposed to mean? You’re keeping things from me?”

“No, I– You know what, just drop it. Why the fuck are you so mad? You embarrassed me tonight. You had no right to just barge in and drag me out of there like I needed to be kept on a leash.”

“I–” he struggles to find the words, and ends up settling for ones that feel like lies. “We’re supposed to be dating! What if someone saw you? What would that look like for me?”

Even if he meant it, it’s a weak argument and he knows it. The restaurant was far enough from campus that the possibility of being recognized by anyone from school was extremely limited.

“That’s what this is about again?” you scoff bitterly. “Your pride? Your precious little reputation? You’ve been using me for months and I let you–”

“I didn’t use you,” he interrupts.

“Didn’t you?” He stays silent after this, and you feel compelled to continue. “Everyone kept telling me to put an end to your shit or I’ll just eventually get hurt. But did I listen? No, of course not, because I’m stupid and because I’m too in– because I’m fucking stupid.”

“No, no, don’t backtrack. Because you’re what?”

You can’t even yell at him, unless you want the entire floor to hear and wake up tomorrow as the latest piece of gossip on campus. You can’t even weep to your heart’s content either. It’s so fucking shitty, but it’s your own damn fault anyway. What were you even expecting? There was no way you could come out of this unscathed.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and expect me not to…”

He knows exactly what you’re referring to. “Not to what?”

You know he won’t let this go, and you’re not sure you have it in yourself to keep it hidden for much longer. You expected that the truth would come out some day, maybe after you’ve figured out a way to get over him and not have to deal with the repercussions of your confession.

But you’re here at that crossroad now, and you’re tired. You’re exhausted, really, from years of yearning for him in secret and trying to kill that longing but failing every time. Your heart can only take so much before it eventually cracks, and it seems like that moment has come sooner than you ever anticipated.

“You can’t expect me not to be in love with you,” you choke on a cry, “more than I already am.”

His eyes widen and his lips part, and every trace of anger from earlier drains from his face. You take a step back as he takes one forward.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” you take in a breath, and unleash your suffering. “I’ve loved you for half our lives. I would do anything for you, but… I don’t know if I can keep going like this anymore. It’s too much.”

Now that the cat is out of the bag, where do you go from here? The answer is simple: You don’t know.

So, you do the only thing you can at this moment. You sit down on the bed, put your head in your hands, and you let the tears flow freely. Your heart is in your throat, and sunken at the pit of your stomach, and lodged between your ribs all at once, because it’s in pieces and there’s nothing that can undo the damage.

Quietly sobbing in front of the boy you’ve always loved, you feel pathetic and broken, and you mourn more things than just the loss of your friendship.

This isn’t a fight.

No, this is the end of life as you know it.

The mattress dips and you immediately scoot away. He freezes, gauging your reaction and thinking if he should reach out to you. You make that decision for him before he could come to his own conclusion.

“Can you just leave?”

Not leave now and we’ll talk when I’ve cooled off; not leave and silently come back tomorrow with my favorite dessert as a peace offering.

Just leave.

You handed him your heart without even telling him; you gave him hold the most sacred piece of you and let him toy with it without realizing what’s in his palm. Now that he knows, he has no idea what to do with it.

The door closes and it feels like something else is ending too. You and him, the most special bond you’ve ever known. The most important part in every chapter of the story of your life…

You think of the friendship that’s been the foundation of who you are, the pillar that holds you up when everything else tries to pin you down. You think of how it’s starting to come undone brick by brick right in front of you, and there’s nothing you can do about it now.

You and him against the world, but now it’s only the world against you.

See? It always implodes.

Jungkook can be dense sometimes. Nudges don’t work on him; he needs to be pushed, shoved, and knocked some sense into before he can start to get his head straight.

He doesn’t know why he calls Nayoung, but he does. Though it’s getting close to midnight, she picks up on the third ring. He doesn’t regard her sleepy voice and a confused hello? and goes right into it.

“Why did we break up?” he asks anxiously.

Not a question that one might expect to hear from an ex nearly a year after the breakup, through the phone in the middle of the night. “I don’t know, you tell me,” she chuckles softly. “You’re the one who ended things.”

“I don’t know either,” Jungkook mimics her words.

Seconds pass, and Nayoung speaks up. “I’ve always thought it was because of Y/N.”

Yeah, he knew she was going to say that.

“Why?”

“I think everyone could see there was at least something there, except for the two of you. You could never really remember my favorite things as well as you did hers. At first, I told myself it was because you’d been friends for so long, and she’s important to you. But then I realized, that wasn’t really the case,” she says calmly, no bitterness in her voice at all though there she does sound sad as she recalls the past. “Sometimes I wished you would look at me the way you look at her.”

If there’s anything that Jungkook feels as he listens to his ex-girlfriend’s words, it’s guilt, and maybe a pang of remorse.

You think he doesn’t see you but he does; he sees you everywhere. You’re on his mind when that spot should be reserved for someone else.

The night when everything went to hell and back, when he was coming to crash your date, he didn’t know what came over him. He was just so frustrated he couldn’t see straight.

As soon as he overheard Yerin and Namjoon talk about you having dinner with Seokjin, he lost all ability to be rational.

Was he upset because you didn’t tell him, or because you were with another guy?

If you had told him about the date, would it have made him feel better?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks. It’s been some months too late for that question now.

“I guess I just wanted you to myself for a while longer.”

“I’m sorry.” He means it.

“Don’t be.” She understands. “You didn’t know.”

It’s scary when people keep tugging at the rug he’s standing on.

When the line is silent for a beat too long, Nayoung takes the initiative. It’s like she can sense that Jungkook’s affliction even through the phone, can picture how the cogs in his head are turning until they bring you to the conclusion that everyone around him has known for years.

“I knew we couldn’t have lasted long,” she says, hoping it’ll give him some comfort. “That’s why when we broke up, I said I hoped you’d work things out with her. You didn’t understand it back then, did you? I’m glad you do now.”

There’s a lot of things about you that are ingrained into Jungkook’s mind, like how you like to watch horror gameplays because you think the gamers’ reactions are funny sometimes and because you’re too much of a scaredy cat to actually play the games.

You like your eggs with runny yolks and lots of pepper; it can be annoying every time you grumble at him for breaking your yolk whenever he makes you breakfast. You’re very particular about your hair and don’t like it when anyone touches or plays with it.

You’ve developed a newfound love for eBooks because they let you highlight quotes you like and post them on Instagram for pretentious purposes. You like to vacuum but hate washing dishes, which is good because Jungkook doesn’t mind it.

Other than a stuffed koala, you have two other plushies that you still sleep with—a bunny and a duck. Jungkook got you the bunny on your 17th birthday while he was taking you stationery shopping before the new school year. The fuzzy toy at a corner store caught your eye and you made him buy it for you; you said it looked like him and wanted to keep it with you whenever you couldn’t see each other. It’s all worn out now, and he tells you that he’ll get you a new and better one but you always refuse. This one has all the memories, you’d say, and nothing can replace that.

You took care of him when he had three wisdom teeth removed all at once; and you nurse his hangovers every time he makes the guys drop him off at your dorm after a night out, because he insists that sleeping at yours is much better than at his own place. When he wakes up in the morning with his brain mushed and pounding, he finds that your presence makes his headache a little more manageable.

He likes to hold your hand because feeling your dainty hands in his much bigger ones makes him smile for some reason. When you cuddle, he likes the softness of your hair and the scent of the hair serum you use.

Jungkook knows whenever he’s being annoying; it’s fun, he likes being a little shithead. He likes how you tolerate his antics and stupid jokes, and he likes how you would also put him in his place if he goes too far and keep him in check.

It’s in the little things. It’s in his daily routine. There’s a special box that he keeps in the center of his mind, labeled with your name, that goes with him everywhere.

He doesn’t like to think about the future; it’s a scary thought and the world can be a terrifying place sometimes. He doesn’t know what his future holds, how his life will change or where it’ll lead him; but every time his mind falls into that pit of existentialism that he dreads, you’re there.

You part the darkness like the sun. Just the thought of you brings him peace when he needs it. You understand him in ways that no one else ever could.

Because you’re his best friend.

You’ve been a part of his life for so long that somewhere along the way, he never realized it when platonic feelings grew into something more.

Nayoung might have been the one to plant the seed, but Eunji was the catalyst. It’s ironic that none of this probably would’ve happened if Eunji hadn’t accidentally brushed up against Jungkook’s stubborn nature.

There’s a reason why he has been avoiding talking to Namjoon lately. Unlike the other men he knows at school, or any man in his life really, Namjoon sees things, and Namjoon knows how to read between the lines.

In hindsight, there’s a list of things he should’ve done differently. He shouldn’t have been so quick to shut his friends down whenever they broached the matter. He should’ve listened to their concerns; that would’ve saved him a lot of time, and he wouldn’t be sitting here alone in the darkness of his room, brooding over how stupid he’s been acting.

After that initial kiss, the spark that has kept him warm for years flared up into an inferno that torches him to his very core. Something in him shifts, like a light bulb being switched on for the very first time. He had thought about kissing you a few times before that, when he was drunk and you happened to be nearby. But after the fact, kissing you was everything that plagued his mind.

Now, Jungkook knows that’s not how friends are supposed to behave. They aren’t supposed to spend an unhealthy amount of time thinking about the other’s lips. They aren’t supposed to be consumed with blind jealousy at the prospect of the other with a romantic interest.

They’re not supposed to want the other how he wants you.

This can go either way. What happens after the realization—that nothing will ever be the same again?

The earth shatters, of course, and the world ends.

None of his relationships have ever hit the one-year mark, and even with Nayoung, he never could find it in himself to tell her he loved her. Maybe there’s a reason for that.

Maybe that reason is because the space in his heart has always been occupied.

You’ve been replaying your last conversation with Jungkook in your head ever since it happened.

When you told Yerin about it, she didn’t say I told you so or reiterate how you should’ve listened to her in the first place. She just sat there and listened to you recant the entire story of that night. She held you and brushed your hair back as you cried. It made you feel better that she let you unburden yourself somewhat with a sobbing session, but it wasn’t enough. Your heart was still broken.

Two weeks have passed, the longest you’ve gone without seeing him. Since that night, Jungkook tried texting you numerous times, to which you didn’t reply. Most of his messages were apologies though you doubt he knew what he was apologizing for. To be honest, you’re not sure you know either. It’s not his fault, not really.

Then, he started leaving you voicemails but they still said the same things as his texts. You didn’t call him back, and it’s been a couple of days since he last tried. In the absence of any communication, you wonder if he’ll try again.

When someone knocks on your door, you expect it to be Yerin coming to check on you again even though she just came over this morning with a box of brownies that you haven’t finished yet. Instead, it’s the person you’ve been dreading and wanting to see at the same time.

“Nice,” Jungkook says, pointing to your old Mojo Jojo t-shirt that never fails to make him chuckle.

He looks like shit, eyes puffy and red like he’s been crying. You don’t reckon you look any better.

The conversation starts the same way it did the last time. “What are you doing here?”

He scratches his neck and peers at you with a pleading look in his eyes. “Can I come in?”

Your hand tightens on the doorknob in a way that he doesn’t miss, and you hesitate for a minute before you retreat back into the room, leaving the door open so he can follow. You go to sit on the bed, and he tentatively sits next to you but still cautious enough to leave some space between your bodies.

Minutes pass, and it’s silent. Neither one of you can read the other like you used to; it’s unsettling to say the least.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks, his voice cuts above the tension in the room and hangs over your head like a black cloud.

This is it. This is it.

This is the part where he tells you that he loves you, but not in that way. That he only sees you as a friend; there’s nothing between you other than platonic feelings. You’ve spent all your life preparing for this moment, and yet nothing can truly ever brace your heart for what’s about to come.

“I never told you why me and Nayoung broke up,” Jungkook starts, and confusion seeps into your features. “She wanted me to meet her parents and I… I just couldn’t do it. I knew I liked her, but I couldn’t see myself taking that next step with her, or with anyone… And you know why I told Eunji that you and I wanted to try dating? She thought I’d never get my shit together and confess,” he chuckles humorlessly as he recalls the memory. “Even then I still didn’t know. I just wanted to prove that she was wrong.”

You’re not really sure why he has to drag out the act of breaking your heart. You turn to look at him. Doe eyes on the verge of tears. It makes you want to cry more than you already do.

“I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“To be honest, I don’t think I know either,” he says. “I know I should give you time, and that I’m being selfish for even being here, but I just wanted to see you.” His voice breaks at the end, and you break along with it. “I just wanted to see you.”

Your fists clench in your lap as you bite the inside of your cheek. He’s making this so hard for you, and his next words throw you in for a loop.

“I think… I think I might be in love with you.”

“Please don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply. Instead, he pulls out the sketchbook from his backpack and hands it to you. The leather is worn, even more so than the last time you saw it and it melts your insides just a little bit.

“Open it.”

“Jungkoo–”

“Please,” he says, his voice unsteady. “Please just open it.”

As you flip through the pages, it’s mostly sketches that you’ve seen before.

Then, you come across a crumbled page, ripped from its home and clumsily taped back into the journal. On the page was an outline of a person, and you can only make out that it’s a figure of a girl, someone you don’t recognize for the lack of details. Anyone can tell that he doesn’t get a lot of practice when it comes to drawing people.

But you do recognize the surroundings, drawn much more intricately, and you realize it’s the beach you went to two summers ago.

Over the next few pages, it’s still the same outline, still the same girl only in different settings, but ones that you’re all too familiar with.

The figure gets more detailed the more you go through his sketchbook, and by the time you’ve reached the latest addition, it’s clear who the girl is supposed to be.

It’s you.

You at the local flea market; you at the campus cafe, hunched over a notebook and an iced latte; you in his hometown where you visit his parents every once in a while.

And… you, that day Jungkook kissed you, with the convenience store in the background, near the corner of the page. The girl in the drawing is much more beautiful than you think you could ever be.

When a teardrop lands on the paper, you realize you’ve been crying. He’s beside you now, having shuffled closer while you were too immersed in the journal. His arm brushes yours, and when you turn to him, you see that he’s crying too.

“That day,” he starts, fingers ghosting over the sketch of you, “I lied to you about seeing Eunji. I just wanted to kiss you, but I was a coward, and I was scared of having thoughts about you that friends shouldn’t have about each other.”

You wipe away the tears from his cheek and he instantly leans into your touch. His lips wobble slightly as you look at each other; everything unsaid now out in the open, settling in between the two of you, waiting for someone to make the next move.

“Jungkook…”

“If you want me to leave, I will,” he whispers, sniffling and holding onto your wrist. “Do you want me to leave?”

You don’t know what to say other than no.

“I’m sorry… for not realizing it sooner.”

You give him a teary smile. “It’s okay,” you say, though it hasn’t been okay. You’ve been miserable these last two weeks, and every so often these past years of your life.

Old habits die hard; you always want to appease him. But if there’s ever a good time to forgive him for all of it, you think it might as well be now.

His gaze drops to your mouth, making your heart speed up as you wait for him. A shaky hand cups your face like if his fingers brush your cheek the wrong way, it might undo all the progress he’s made.

Jungkook visibly gulps as he leans closer, his breath fanning your mouth softly until he finally presses his lips to yours.

Kindred spirits meeting each other for the first time again.

The count resets to 1. None of the kisses you’ve had before mean anything; the only ones that matter are ones that you share from now on.

When your lungs burn, he pulls away and chuckles breathlessly. His eyes are still glassy from tears, and it only emphasizes the galaxy that resides in them, an entire cosmos in those chocolate eyes that calls out your name with every twinkle of light.

You go in for another kiss, and another one, and another one… until your hearts start to feel a little fuller and the ache gradually becomes a distant memory,

Gloomy days where you know the sun is hiding behind that thick curtain of clouds but just won’t come out.

The clouds part and golden sunlight starts to peek through. It’s brighter than anything he’s seen before but he thinks he’ll manage just fine.

He’s got his best friend right by his side.

“It’s for real this time?” Taehyung narrows his eyes at Jungkook skeptically. “You’re not fucking with me?”

“Yes, Tae, it’s real.” The younger man rolls his eyes but smiles as he utters the words.

You’re in Yerin’s bedroom, helping with each other’s hair and makeup for a university dinner that you’re all going to tonight, while the guys wait in the living room, having already donned their suits.

Taehyung throws his head back and groans in frustration as he reaches into his pocket. Jungkook opens his mouth, about to ask what’s with the reaction to his good news, but stops when he notices a wild Yoongi appear with his palm open.

Taehyung pulls out his wallet and slaps a few bills onto the awaiting hand, which quickly snatches them up as Yoongi scuttles back to his seat with a grin.

Jungkook frowns. “What was that?”

“We had a bet,” Taehyung grumbles, taking a cookie on the coffee table and throwing it into his mouth. As he chews and talks, chocolate chip crumbs fall onto his dress shirt. “On whether or not you would step up and confess.”

Jungkook’s frown deepens even further as he looks between his friends. At this point, he really shouldn’t be surprised that literally everyone but him has known all along. “Wha– Wait, you betted against me?”

“Man, I love you, and trust me when I say I was rooting for you, but your head was so far up your ass, it didn’t look like you were ever getting out of there.”

Jungkook’s brows shoot into his forehead in disbelief and maybe betrayal too, and he has a retort ready to launch at Taehyung though he’s interrupted by the sound of a door opening, followed by heels clicking on the wooden floor.

He isn’t allowed a chance to get a good look at you before you’re already tucking yourself into his side, with your head resting on his shoulder. Across from you, Yerin has already taken her usual spot on the couch beside Namjoon.

There’s something twinkling in Namjoon’s eyes as he looks at Yerin, but it can’t compare to the cluster of galaxies shining in Jungkook’s as he takes you in.

“What are we talking about?” you ask, tipping your head back to look up at him.

“We,” Taehyung chimes in before Jungkook can answer, “are talking about what a dumbass your boyfriend is.”

Heat rises from your neck and further accentuates the rose-colored blush on your cheeks at the word “boyfriend”. When you try to look down and hide your face, Jungkook grabs your chin between his fingers to hold your head in place as he offers you a quick kiss, brushing off Taehyung’s teasing words because you’re right there in his arms, looking all pretty and shy. It’s not everyday that he gets to see you dolled up like this.

His sudden action makes you even more flustered though. You clear your throat and fiddle with his hand that falls from your face to your lap, while your friends watch the interaction with fond smiles.

To the outside world, to anyone who isn’t privy to the whole fiasco that happened over the past months, everything is still the same. But to your little band of thieves, everything has changed.

That night, Jungkook takes you back to his place.

Truth be told, the prospect of having sex with him didn’t cross your mind until tonight. There was something about him in a dashing suit and his hair styled in a way that made him even more handsome than he already is, that had you clenching your thighs together during the dinner.

Jungkook knows you’re significantly less experienced than him. You’ve only had sex once before and you didn’t even finish. Not to pin the blame on the other guy though; that was your first time, it’s understandable that you couldn’t fully relax.

But now, as you lie underneath your best friend with his lips sucking on your neck and one of his hands squeezing your ass, the nerves decide to make an appearance.

You feel like a virgin again.

You’ve never really let yourself think about Jungkook and his skills in bed; it stings a little too much to imagine him sleeping with other girls even though you know he does. Sometimes Jungkook would tell you if he had a one-night stand the day before—not in detail, because you’d normally shut it down and change the topic.

Your heart hammers in your ribcage as he pulls down the straps of your bra. When he unhooks the garment and throws it to the floor, you can’t help but cross your arms over your chest and look away timidly.

He cups your cheek and turns your head to look at you. “Hey, it’s me,” he whispers. “It’s just me. You don’t have to hide from me. You never have to hide from me.”

As you gaze at him, you realize that he’s right. It’s safe there in those iridescent eyes of his. You know he means it when he promises not to jeopardize your heart ever again.

“Do you trust me?” Jungkook asks softly, fingers brushing away the hair that frames your face.

You do. Unconditionally, willingly, ardently. There’s no doubt about it now.

“Yes,” you whisper. Untangling your arms, you wrap them around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. You can’t get over how soft his lips are against your own, or how it seems like you’re floating with every sound you pull from him.

When you break away for air, he trails his mouth along your jawline, your neck, your collarbone and then your chest. He takes one breast in his mouth and sucks on your nipple until it hardens against his tongue. You weave your fingers through his hair as he licks your perky bud, arching into him and moaning when he switches sides to give your other breast the same attention.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip when he releases your nipple with a wet pop! and kisses his way down the path of your stomach to your clothed heat. Your hand leaves his hair to grip the bed sheets, your heart stuttering in anticipation as he neglects your core entirely and goes to suck hickeys into your inner thighs.

You can feel yourself get wetter with every swipe of Jungkook’s tongue on your skin, and you’re sure that he can smell your arousal even through your panties at such close proximity.

“Please,” you beg. “I need you to do something, I need you…”

“Patience,” he tsks as he comes up to hover above you again but still keeps his hand on your thigh, fingers dancing closer to your cunt until he finally makes contact. “I’ll make you feel good.”

As he rubs you over your panties, you moan against his mouth, and he swears the sound could make him combust right then and there.

“Jungkook…” you whimper softly, eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. Your breath hitches and you look like you could cry just from this alone. God, there’s nothing he would love more than to ruin you.

His knee nudges your legs further apart as he devours your lips, his free hand palming your breast and pinching your nipple. Your panties start to become soaked, leaving his fingers a little sticky even through the lace.

“Jungkook,” you whine again, tugging on his wrist.

“Mhmm?” He teases your clothed entrance, making you buck into his hand. “What do you want, baby?”

You might be inexperienced, but you’re definitely not a prude.

“Your–your fingers… please…”

He smirks against your mouth before pulling away to slide your underwear off your legs. He comes back to his previous position above you, kissing you and fondling your tits again. Deft digits land directly on your bare pussy, nothing to separate you from him.

He slips a finger inside, and you immediately clench at the intrusion.

“Relax for me,” Jungkook coos and rubs your clit with his thumb to help you loosen up. It feels nice though the discomfort is still there, and you know the more you focus on trying to ease into it, the more it backfires.

“That’s easier said than done,” you breathe, holding onto his wrist as he continues to pump into you. His lips find your chest and he sucks a tit harshly into his mouth. He can tell how much you like it from the wetness that gushes out of you, and he grants you another finger.

“Feel good?” he purrs, alternating between licking and biting your nipple.

You buck your hips to meet his fingers and cry out with every thrust of his hand. “So… so good…”

He scissors your pussy open and revels in the wet squelches in the air. It sends blood rushing straight to his cock, which strains uncomfortably in his boxers.

“Can you take one more?” he asks, mouth hot against your breast.

“I think so,” you moan, surprisingly excited to be stuffed with his fingers. Jungkook continues to swirl his tongue around your nipple as he pushes another digit inside your heat. “Nghhh…”

It’s a bit tight at first, but your body obeys him after a few thrusts; your walls stretch to comfortably suck his fingers in.

You really don’t know if it usually feels this good, or if it’s just Jungkook and his hands, his mouth, everything, in particular that can make your body react like this. You’re close to floating, transcending, with his every movement.

Obscene and wet sounds fill your ears, his warm lips on your body, his slender fingers bringing you to the edge…

“I think I’m gonna cum,” you rasp out.

“Cum then. You can do it,” he whispers and trails upward to kiss your cheek. “Such a good girl. Come on…” You lose your damn mind every time his digits slide in and out, and the wet sounds of him fingering your pussy only add to the pressure in your stomach.

He curls his fingers two, three times and you’re done for. Your nails dig into his arm as you scream his name, tears spilling from your eyes. He wants to tattoo the raised tone of your voice onto his brain for rainy days, and maybe every other day in between.

Jungkook fucks you through your orgasm and then some. When he pulls his hand away from your battered cunt, he smirks at the sight of it soaked in your essence. You watch him spread the mess you made on his fingers and put them in his mouth. Euphoria washes over you as he tastes you, moaning while he does so.

If he can make you cry with just his fingers, he can’t wait to see what it’ll be like when you cream all over his cock.

He might not have been your first time but he’s the first person to ever make you cum, and that’s an even better honor for him.

He leans down to kiss you, his tongue sliding into your mouth to let you taste yourself. “Mhmm,” you moan and pull him closer until you feel his cock against your thigh, hard and heavy. When you palm him over his underwear, he gasps into your mouth, and you feel a small wet patch from where his precum stains his boxers.

“I want you…” you whisper languidly and grip him tighter.

“You have me,” he reassures, though it’s not exactly what you meant. He kisses you once more before sitting up to remove his last article of clothing. His cock, angry and leaking, slaps against his abs and you can’t help but bite your lip.

You’ve only seen and had one dick before, but even you know that Jungkook’s would be categorized as how-the-actual-fuck-will-it-fit big.

He fists his length and gives it a few pumps, smirking when he finds your eyes trained on his hand and its movements, bottom lip between your teeth while you’re still spread out for him. Your pussy drips onto his sheets from renewed arousal.

He turns away from you to grab a condom from his wallet on the floor, tears into the foil to take out the rubber and rolls it over his shaft.

“You ready?” he asks as he guides the tip to your slit, rubbing it against your folds to collect more wetness so he can slide in easier. Jungkook teases you a little, nudging your clit with his cock and relishing in the tiny moan you let slip out.

“Fuck me,” you say softly. It feels unreal to hear you—his best friend—utter these words to him. “Ah…” you mewl when he pushes in. Despite having been stretched by three of his fingers, his cock is a little too much for you.

He makes it about halfway in before he stills, waiting for you to open up. “It’s just me,” he repeats his sentiments from earlier and kisses you, hoping that it’ll help you relax and take him in completely.

It does work, sort of. Your pussy swallows a couple more inches of his length but he still can’t bottom out in this position. He tries fucking you like this, maybe your walls will stretch out more once you get into it but as soon as your brows knit in evident discomfort, he stops entirely.

“Am I hurting you?” His voice is rushed, worried. “Do you want to stop?”

“No! No, I– I want to keep going. It’s just…”

You huff out a breath in frustration, and Jungkook sees right through you, on the verge of blaming yourself and your body for something that isn’t your fault.

“Let me try something,” he says and pecks your lips again. He pulls out of you carefully and sits back against the headboard as he helps you climb on top of him. “Might make it easier.”

He holds your hips as you hover over his cock; the tip circles your entrance and you moan lowly, your hands resting on his shoulders to steady yourself.

You sink down on him slowly, letting out shaky breaths until you’ve completely taken everything in. He rubs your hips soothingly as your walls stretch around his shaft.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek.

You shake your head and lean into his touch. “No, I just need a minute.”

“Okay.”

After a moment passes, Jungkook watches you reach for his hand and guide it toward your bundle of nerves, silently asking him to play with your clit while your pussy readies itself for him, and fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing he has seen anyone do. You moan when his thumb rubs figure eights into your swollen bud, your hips starting to move on their own accord to seek pleasure.

Bracing your hands on his chest, you lift your body experimentally from his cock and sink down again, making the both of you moan at the feeling of him gliding along your velvety walls with more ease.

The position is a little awkward because you don’t exactly know how to move on top of him.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “Go at your own pace.”

Though your rhythm is a bit off, you do it again, and again, and again, until you’re a moaning mess on top of him, fucking yourself on his cock while he watches, absolutely mesmerized by you. Breathless cries slip from your lips as Jungkook continues to stimulate your clit, your tits slightly jiggling with every movement, your eyes rolling back in bliss and he hasn’t even begun to do anything yet.

Fuck. He really needs to ruin you.

He presses his hips to yours to keep his dick from slipping out of you as he flips the both of you over. You look so pretty pinned underneath him like this that he twitches and grows even harder inside you.

“I want…” he trails off and gulps, looking for words as you stare at him quizzically, your walls unintentionally clenching around him. “I want to wreck your pretty little pussy. I want to fuck you so hard, you’ll be feeling me for days. Will you let me do that, hmm? Can I show you how much I love you?”

Hearing his crude words, you almost go into cardiac arrest. The way he’s looking at you could puncture your skin; his eyes darken with unfiltered lust that it turns you on unbelievably more. “Yes, please…” You nod, eager to have him prove to you that he means it.

Jungkook pulls back until just the tip is in you before he plunges forward, making you choke on a moan and your eyes roll back into your head.

It starts out slow at first; he wants to make sure that you’re fully ready for him before he picks up the pace. When you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer and raise your hips to meet his thrusts, he begins to settle into a faster rhythm, fucking into you with heightened desire and desperation.

“Oh, fuck,” he drawls. “You feel so good.”

“Jungkook ah…”

Your eyes screw shut as you let the intense pleasure take over your entire body. The room fills up with your wanton moans and sinful sounds of skin slapping.

“Fuck me. Would you look at that?” He sounds like he’s whispering to himself, but you open your eyes to see what he’s talking about anyway.

Jungkook’s eyes are transfixed on the sight of his cock in your pussy, glistening with your juices every time he pulls out and gets even wetter every time he dives back in.

While he’s focused on that, there’s something else that catches your attention.

Your hand slides across your body and comes to a stop at your stomach. “Jungkook,” you stutter when he delivers a particular hard thrust and you clench around him. “You’re so big…”

He trails his eyes up to where your hand is, and his mind immediately blanks.

No thoughts, head empty.

Knock knock, is anybody home?

“Fuck,” he grunts out, “fuck!”

Your stomach bulges with the faint outline of his cock as he pounds you into the mattress. He covers your hand with his own and slightly presses down on it, savoring the gasp that escapes from you.

You feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he thoroughly fucks you and your cunt swallows up what he gives you.

“Please,” you rasp out, “harder…”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He doesn’t give you time to respond, though if he did, you don’t think your brain could come up with any coherent sentences right now. He caresses your belly to let both of you feel his cock driving into you before his hand slips down to rub your clit. Jungkook slants his mouth over yours to swallow your surprised moan, and you feel dizzy all of a sudden.

Is this what coming home feels like? The yearning, the longing, the wanting but never having… it’s been years, it’s all you can remember. But now that it’s finally happening, you can’t find it in yourself to believe in the reality of it.

Jungkook loves you, in the way that you’ve always wanted him to. He’s here—he’s really here—taking this leap with you and no amount of gratitude toward the universe will ever be enough to convey how euphoric you feel—body and soul—in this moment.

You call out his name breathlessly, your walls fluttering around his cock as you hold onto his biceps. “I–I’m…” Your cheeks are stained with overflowing tears; the pleasure sending you into overdrive as you sob out brokenly.

“I know, I can feel it,” he murmurs. “Cum for me, baby, hmm? I love you… Love you so much…”

He flicks your clit as he fucks you harder, faster than before, his thick cock repeatedly nudging your G-spot. He keeps the pace until you’re practically writhing in his arms, his name falling from your lips like a mantra and stars exploding behind your eyes.

Your juices soak his cock as Jungkook continues to fuck you, to help you ride out your high and chase his own. You’re still whimpering even after you’ve come down, and all he can think about is how he would give you the moon if you asked.

“Koo…” You bring your hands up to push back the sweat-slicked hair from his handsome face and pull him down for a sloppy kiss. Your tongue plays with his while he’s still toying with your clit. “Cum for me,” you whisper against his mouth. “Wanna see you cum for me…”

If he were to die right this second, he thinks it wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

You’re so wet, and tight, and warm. He feels your pussy pulsate and throb around him and he wishes that there wasn’t a fucking condom in the way.

One more thrust, two more… and his hips are stuttering as he shoots into the condom. His mouth hangs open with whispers of your name and his eyebrows are knitted in pure bliss; he’s so fucking beautiful like this that you can’t help but squeeze your cunt around him. He seems to like it, so you do it again, hoping to prolong his pleasure. “Fuck, baby…”

Silence overwhelms the space around you now that you’re both still, basking in a post-orgasmic haze. You look at him with a lazy grin that he returns, and he tilts his head adorably as he wipes away the remainder of your tears.

Yeah, this must be what coming home feels like.

His tender eyes gazing down at you, his contented smile blooming just for you, his heart beating in tandem with yours… Jungkook is the safest place you know.

Even if being a shithead is inherent to who he is as a person. Even if he believes there’s a divine power in the banana milk at the local convenience store. Even if he has no regard for your stash of emergency snacks. Even then, he’s your person.

Even then, he’s your home.

It’s been a long time coming.