a/n: HI. i've ultimately decided to split this part into two, mainly because it's taking me longer than i originally thought (thanku work and college. sigh.), but also because I JUST WANTED TO POST THIS. so i hope thats ok with u all <3 i've almost finished the second part to.. well this part? but i hope it doesn't disappoint you!! so yeah :) the next part will also be written, and a direct continuation of this chapter!! and out so much sooner, yay :). also thankyou all so much for enjoying not ideal. it makes me so happy <333
The evening is warm, sunlight filtering through sheer curtains in golden ribbons, painting the room in soft, pretty hues. The distant hum of traffic drifts in from outside, mixed with the occasional echo of voices from the street below. It all blends together into a strangely calming backdrop as you sit in front of the mirror, makeup brush held loosely between your fingers.
There’s no rush, no pressure.
You still have time before everyone meets up for pre-drinks, before the night really begins. Before you’re crammed into loud clubs, laughing over overpriced drinks, and listening to terrible remixes of otherwise great songs.
For now, the moment is yours.
Your playlist hums softly from the speaker, a familiar song you’ve heard a thousand times plays, one that you never seem to get bored of. It’s the kind of music that fills you with excitement and confidence as you continue getting ready for your night out. You take your time applying mascara, careful not to smudge it, something that happens more often than you'd like.
Your room is a comforting kind of chaos. A an open wardrobe with half its contents strewn across the chair, from the aftermath of outfit trials. a half-finished iced coffee sitting forgotten on your bedside table, and the faint scent of vanilla perfume hanging in the air.
Outside, the city feels alive. But in here, it’s just you.
Eventually, you slip into your final outfit, one that feels right, comfortable but flattering. You smooth the fabric down and turn to assess yourself in the mirror. A moment of silent approval.
Not for anyone else, not for the sake of attention or validation. But for yourself.
You find there’s a quiet, confident power in feeling good in your own skin.
You pick up your phone absent-mindedly and skim through your messages, finding nothing new. You scroll through your texts with Taehyung from the day before, confirming your plans to meet up earlier than the others so he can practice his awful gaming skills before Jimin inevitably challenges him again tonight.
That man has a serious competitive streak, but losing to Jimin? It brings out the worst in him.
The night already feels predictably familiar, in the best way.
Jimin will show up early too. Taehyung will be dramatic when he loses again, and you’ll witness the same bickering you’ve seen a hundred times. Then, the rest of the guys will roll in one by one. The music will get louder, the energy will rise, and it will all unfold as it usually does
Jungkook said he was passing, not really a surprise. You didn’t expect anything else. You assume he’s with someone tonight, just a guess.
Maybe that girl. The one you pieced together he left for during movie night.
In fact, it makes things easier, the less you have to deal with him; his mood swings, his sharp tongue, the better. You still don’t get him, not really, the way he goes between hostility and indifference, how he’ll engage with you one minute and then make it clear that he finds you insufferable the next.
Once you finish getting ready, you take a moment to tidy up your room, just enough to make things easier for future, drunk-you to find your bed later. You sling your bag over your shoulder, grab your keys, and step out into the warmth of the evening.
The last remnants of daylight stretch across the sky, casting a soft glow on the pavement. The streets hum with the familiar energy of the city, couples strolling hand in hand, clusters of students making their way to bars, and the occasional dog leisurely walking with its owner.
You weave through it all, headphones in, your playlist setting a steady rhythm beneath the city’s pulse.
As you continue your walk, you pass by a new café, one you’d mentally bookmarked after hearing Namjoon rave about their coffee. You think about dragging him there soon, letting him ramble on about blends and brewing methods while you nod and watch the world pass by through the window.
This city is full of these small, familiar places that hold different memories, woven into the fabric of your friendships, each corner steeped in experiences, some happy, some bittersweet.
It’s grounding, in a way.
You’ve not even been close to taehyung and his friends for too long. A few months really. You met him over the summer break, completely by chance at some gathering through mutual friends. But somehow conversation came easy with him. He was welcoming in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Before you knew it, you were spending more and more time with him and his friends. And when the new semester had started, they felt familiar. Like a safe space, all bar one, that is.
The recognizable street stretches ahead as daylight begins to softly fade into the horizon. Things grow quieter. Faint conversations drift from open balconies, a few cars pass by, but it’s peaceful, quiet, a stark contrast to the liveliness just a few blocks away.
You slow your pace as you near Taehyung’s place, shifting the weight of your bag over your shoulder. His flat sits at the end of the street, a row of houses converted into apartments, all occupied by students. A little worn, but full of character. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t stand out, but still feels like home.
You step up to the building, glancing automatically toward the windows at the front of the house. The curtains are usually wide open, but tonight they’re drawn shut. You can just make out the faint glow of the living room light behind them.
At first, you think nothing of it. He’s probably in his room, maybe doing something else.
You pull out your phone, unlocking it as you reach the door. You almost walk in automatically, what else do you do? You've never had to knock before. It feels weird, awkward. Taehyung is usually just... there.
You check your messages, nothing.
Very out of character for him, especially considering he’s the one who made the plans. Sure, it was just yesterday, but Taehyung’s reliable. He doesn’t just bail last minute.
You shift on your feet, frowning slightly. Maybe he’s in the bathroom, he could’ve lost track of time, or maybe he’s just being annoying.
You tap your phone idly, deciding to send a text.
You knock at the door. It feels weird.
Just as you consider calling him, your phone buzzes.
Taehyung: Fuck, i’m still out.
You inhale sharply, tightening your grip around the phone, glaring at the screen.
you: so you invited me over and you just AREN’T HERE????
Taehyung: okay but in my defense, I thought I’d be back by now.
Taehyung: i swear i won’t be long.
You roll your eyes. Great. Wonderful.
Now you have to wait outside like an idiot until he gets back or-
The sound of the lock turning catches your attention.
A slow, creeping awareness settles in your chest that the other person that lives here is home. As the gap in the door widens just enough for a figure to step into view. Dark hair, broad shoulders, familiar build.
Standing in the doorway, towel slung over his bare shoulders, and a look that suggests he’s just as surprised to see you as you are to see him.
Every assumption about tonight shifts.
The silence stretches in the doorway. You should have known. Should have accounted for the one variable that always seems to throw your calculations off.
Jungkook stands there, Hair damp and pushed back, droplets trailing down the cut of his collarbones, inked arm on complete show, subtly flexing. His brows lift slightly, equal parts confusion and amusement, like he’s waiting for an explanation.
Your grip tightens on your phone. “You’re here?”
Jungkook scoffs, shifting his weight against the frame. “I live here?”
The plan had been so simple. Go to Taehyung’s. Beat him at Mario Kart. Drink. Go out. Jungkook had said pass in the group chat. You assumed that would mean he wouldn’t be here. But he is.
And Taehyung? No where to be seen. of course.
The realization settles like a weight in your chest. Your prediction for the night was off. Completely. You hate when things don’t go how you’d expect them to, it just messes with your brain.
But It’s fine, you can deal with this.
You exhale, straightening. “Taehyung invited me over early.”
Jungkook blinks, exhales a short, dry laugh. “Yeah? Well Taehyung isn’t here.”
“No shit,” you mutter, shifting awkwardly. You avoid eye contact, because it’s better not to look at him right now. It’s too awkward. And it doesn’t help that he’s standing there half-dressed. Who answers the door topless, anyway?
You could leave. You know that. It wouldn’t be weird. no one would judge you for turning around and walking away. Well, maybe the guy standing in front of you would, but then again, he seems to judge you for breathing. Yet, for some reason, you stay rooted to the spot like an idiot, caught in the unspoken weight of the situation.
Jungkook doesn’t look like he’s about to tell you to get lost, though. Instead, he exhales through his nose, rubbing the towel against his hair before slinging it over his shoulder again. He steps back, tilting his head towards the inside of the apartment. “Come in. Wait if you want.”
You pause for a moment, before stepping inside anyways, the warmth of their place wrapping around you instantly as Jungkook closes the door. It’s quiet, too quiet. No music, no lingering sounds of a game or a movie. Just the muffled sounds of the city, barely heard through the windows.
Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he pads toward the hallway, presumably to his room. Leaving you standing awkwardly in the living room. It’s different. for a place all too familiar to you, the energy is so concentrated, so tense.
“You could’ve shut the door on me.” you call after him, pulling off your jacket and draping it over the armrest of the couch.
He turns around briefly and looks at you, before he continues walking. “Could’ve.”
The silence that follows when Jungkook goes into his room is heavier than it should be. It lingers, it’s felt. Pressing against you as you stand there, unsure of what to do with yourself.
Not alone, at least. Not without Taehyung to balance out the atmosphere. Usually when you’re here, it’s loud, filled with the chaotic voices of your friends. music playing, conversations overlapping. You’ve never stopped and focused long enough to realize how the space really feels. How it smells like a mix of cologne and detergent. How the lighting casts a warm tone across the room .
Without others, everything feels different.
Your fingers tap against your thigh as your gaze drifts, scanning the apartment you’ve been to more times than you can count, yet never quite paid so much attention to.
The living room is undeniably lived in, but not messy. Taehyung’s style is evident in the colorful throw pillows, the decorative candles, the carefully picked prints the are plastered on the walls. Jungkook’s presence, however, is quieter, more subtle. The black gaming controller resting on the couch. the weights that sit by the door, the faint scent of whatever body wash he uses still clinging to the air from his shower.
Your gaze catches on a framed photo sitting on the shelf near the TV.
You hesitate before stepping closer, drawn to it for some reason, despite yourself.
It’s a picture of the two boys, candid, arms slung over each other, mid-laughter, real grins plastered on their faces. Jungkook looks different. His hair is shorter, his eyes sparkle. Younger, or maybe just.. lighter. His shoulders aren’t weighed down with whatever makes him so guarded now.
You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until a voice cuts through the silence.
“Didn’t take you to be someone that snoops.”
You jolt, slightly, turning to find jungkook standing in the living room, leaning against the wall.
He’s changed into a loose black t-shirt and sweatpants that hang low on his hips. showing off the band of his boxers. Dark strands of hair still damp, and curling slightly at the ends. The scent of his cologne now present, something clean, sharp, familiar in a way that makes you hyper aware of the fact that you two are alone, again.
You blink. “I was just looking.”
Jungkook follows your gaze, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. That was a while ago.”
There’s something in the way he says it that you can’t quite place.
You tilt your head, studying the photo again. “Never seen you smile like that.”
He scoffs, rolling his shoulders as he steps by you, moving toward the kitchen. “Maybe i don’t have a reason to.”
The weight of the statement lingers, but before you can think too much of it, He’s in the kitchen, opening the fridge.
He redirects his attention to opening two bottles of beer, and you exhale slightly, moving to sit on the sofa. The clinking stops, and a few seconds later, jungkook reappears into your sight, stepping back into the living room.
He doesn’t say anything as he extends the drink towards you, gaze fixed somewhere behind you, like it’s nothing. Like he’s trying not to acknowledge your existence too much.
You stare at him briefly before taking it off him. “Thanks.”
For a moment, neither of you say anything. The faint hum of the air-con fills the space, the low buzz of city life filtering in through the window. You take a sip of your drink, the cool bitterness grounding you, giving you something to focus on other than the weight of Jungkook’s presence beside you.
There’s something hanging in the air between you and him. Something quiet but heavy, a feeling neither uncomfortable nor easy.
Lingering in the spaces where words usually go.
Tonight feels different. The usual sharp remarks and teasing comebacks are missing, replaced by a silence that feels… uncertain. There’s still the weight of past arguments, old words left unresolved, but for once, neither of you is filling the gaps with sarcasm. Jungkook glances at you briefly before looking away just as fast. It’s subtle, but you notice, because for some reason recently, when it comes to him, you always seem to notice.
He’s sitting at the other end of the couch, one arm stretched over the back, fingers tapping absentmindedly against his beer bottle. He looks relaxed, but you can tell it’s forced. The way his shoulders are just a little too stiff, the way he seems like he’s holding something back. Jungkook has always been good at keeping things buried, pretending things don’t bother him. But tonight, something is different. It’s small, but it’s there.
You’re not sure how to feel about it. The quiet between you isn’t normal, but it isn’t exactly bad either. It’s delicate, like it could change at any moment, and you’re not sure if you’re more nervous or curious to see where it leads.
You shift slightly, the couch creaking under your movement. Jungkook is staring into the distance, but you can feel that his mind is elsewhere. You consider saying something lighthearted, but instead, the words that come out are different.
“You always this much fun to hang out with?”
Jungkook lets out a small breath, something between a sigh and a laugh. It’s barely there, but you catch it. He finally turns his head to look at you, dark eyes sharp yet unreadable as he raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t know I was supposed to be entertaining you.”
You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. “You invited me in. Least you could do is talk.”
For a moment, he just watches you, gaze unreadable. There’s something weighty about the way he looks at you, something quiet yet deliberate. Then, out of nowhere, he says, “You look different.”
Your fingers pause on the rim of your drink. The comment catches you off guard, Making you feel confused, aware.
Jungkook doesn’t clarify right away. His eyes flicker over you again, subtle but searching, before he takes another sip of his beer. There’s no teasing to his voice, no signature smirk or sarcasm. Just observation, cool and calm. “The outfit,” he adds after a beat, voice softer now. “It suits you.”
It’s not just the words, but the way he says them. Jungkook isn’t one to toss out compliments easily, especially not to you. There’s no playful edge, no challenge in his tone. Just something steady. Something sincere.
And you have no idea what to do with that.
The usual rhythm between you feels off now. The back-and-forth teasing, the careful space you keep between each other, it doesn’t seem to fit anymore. Not in this moment. You tighten your grip on your drink, casting your gaze elsewhere. “Thanks.”
The silence that follows isn’t awkward. It just… exists. Not heavy, not suffocating, but present. You steal another glance at him, catching the way his jaw tenses like he wants to say something but thinks better of it. Jungkook has always been careful with his words, measured in a way that makes it hard to tell what he’s really thinking. But tonight, there’s a hesitation you don’t recognize.
Your eyes drift across the room, landing on the shelf beneath the TV. Stacks of DVDs sit in a messy row, a collection of action flicks and psychological thrillers. But among them, something unexpected stands out.
You lean forward, squinting. “No way,” you murmur, amusement slipping into your voice. “You own Studio Ghibli movies?”
Jungkook, in the middle of taking another sip, pauses slightly. His gaze sharpens. “So?”
“So,” you say, turning to him fully, a grin tugging at your lips. “Didn’t think you were the type.”
He rolls his eyes, but there’s something else in his expression, something almost guarded. “Just because I like something doesn’t mean I have to announce it.”
He doesn’t sound defensive, just honest. And for a second, you wonder how many other things he keeps to himself, buried under that quiet, unshakable exterior.
A beat passes before you shift. “Wanna put one on?”
Jungkook hesitates a fraction too long before exhaling through his nose. “Yeah. Fine.” But the usual resistance in his voice isn’t quite there.
You watch as he moves toward the shelf, fingers skimming over the cases with a careful slowness. He picks one, hesitating briefly before turning back. There’s something in the way he avoids your gaze, just a little.
“Haven’t watched this one in a while,” he admits, voice lower now, like he’s sharing something, an action he's not entirely comfortable with.
You don’t push. Just nod and settle back as he starts the movie. The opening score fills the quiet room, familiar and warm. From the corner of your eye, you catch the way Jungkook’s shoulders ease, the sharp edges of him rounding out, even if it’s only slightly.
Minutes pass in a comfortable quiet, both of you paying attention to what's playing on the screen. Then, Jungkook shifts. At first, you think he’s just adjusting, but he isn't. He stands up and disappears down the hall.
You frown slightly, your gaze following him. Before you can ask where he’s going, he reappears, something small held between his fingers.
The one you’d left here before. The one he told you he threw away.
Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he holds it out. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a flicker of something in the way he hesitates.
You stare at it, then at him. Slowly, carefully, you take it from his hand, your fingers brushing his for just a second. The warmth of him lingering against your skin for longer than it should.
“Thought you threw this away.”
Jungkook exhales, dropping back onto the couch, eyes fixed on the screen. “Yeah. Well.”
That’s all he gives you. No explanation, no extra words.
But somehow, it says everything.
The moment lingers between you, something unspoken yet understood. Before you can fully process it, the sound of the front door unlocking cuts through the silence.
Taehyung’s voice fills the apartment before he does, loud and carefree. “I’m back, losers.”
And just like that, the spell is broken.
You feel your shoulders tense slightly, snapped back into the present like you had almost been pulled out of something fragile. Jungkook didn’t move, but his expression changed. His face hardened. His guard, that was almost down a few seconds ago, was now firmly back in place.
Taehyung was already making himself at home, kicking off his shoes and walking into the living room. Grin wide, energy buzzing.
He flops onto the couch between you and jungkook, stretching out his legs with a satisfied sigh.
“alright,” he exhaled dramatically.
“Tonight is going to be so fucking good. Everyone is on their way. Jimin’s already tipsy from what I’m aware. Which means he’s going to be a menace before we even leave. Hope you’re ready,”
But you could feel the weight of him near you, presence still heavy in the room, albeit silent. He just listened, posture stiff, face sharp. Tugging absentmindedly on his lip ring. A habit you had started to notice he did when he was thinking about something he didn’t want to say out loud.
Taehyung was seemingly oblivious, too caught up in excitement to notice the stark shift in energy. “You better not bail halfway through the night.” He said, nudging your knee with his own. “we’re going all in. I wanna see you wasted by at least-” he checks his watch dramatically. “-midnight.”
You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “No promises.”
Jungkook exhaled sharply.
The motion was slow, like he had only moved because he’d decided he was done with this conversation, with whatever had settled in the air.
Taehyung watched him with mild curiosity, eyes following him. “Where are you going.”
Jungkook stretched briefly, rolling his shoulders before responding, voice flat. “To get ready.”
Taehyung blinked. “For what.”
Jungkook looked at you, no emotion on his face before diverting his attention. eyes reaching Taehyung’s. “I’m coming out.”
Taehyung let out a short laugh, caught off guard. “since when?”
Jungkook was already half way down the hall as he replied. “Since now.”
He didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t give either of you anything before disappearing into his room, the door clicking shut behind him.
Taehyung stared at the hallway for a moment then turned to you, face showing utter confusion. “What the fuck was that.”
You let out a breath, shaking your head. “I have no idea.”
Taehyung still looked baffled, his gaze flicking back towards Jungkook’s closed door before landing on you again. “Like, what? I wasn’t even going to try and convince him to come tonight. He’s too fucking stubborn.”
You shrugged, trying to seem unbothered, But the difference in his demeanor has seemed to shake you more than you’re willing to admit.
Taehyung huffed, leaning back against the couch. “Man is so weird.” He turns towards you more now, expression less teasing. “Anyway. Sorry for being late. I forgot i had this lecture, and then i was hungry-”
You shook your head, interrupting him. “It’s fine. I hope you know hate you now though.”
He smiles for a moment, before studying your expression. “So.. how was it?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Hanging out with him.”
You just sighed quietly, messing with the hairband on your wrist. “It was fine. He spoke to me, so.”
Taehyungs lips curled, amusement flashing in his face. He stretches his arms out, letting them rest along the back of the couch.
“I told you. He’s not so bad.” His expression was still light. easygoing, but something about the tone felt pointed.
He didn’t push or pry. Just let the words sit between you before turning his attention back to his phone, scrolling through messages, back to being his normal self.
But something about the way he said it this time, made it linger a bit longer.
You weren’t sure why that felt like something worth thinking about.
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