#bts jungguk

The restaurant is the most Instagrammable place you've ever seen, and you would have gotten there faster if your roommate hadn't been in desperate need of moral support over a situationship. You see Jungkook look up at you the second you enter his peripheral vision.

"Finally," Taehyung says.

"Sorry, sorry." You slide into the booth, and there's only one spot left, wedged between Jimin and the wall, directly across from Jungkook. "Emergency friend duties."

"More important than us?" Hobi asks.

"You'll live," you say, but you're not paying attention because Jungkook is still staring at you. Your eyes meet. He doesn't look away. Your stomach flips, and you wonder if you should have done this another day because emotional rollercoasters don't sound like a great idea on an empty stomach.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," you say back.

A few minutes later, the drinks and the banchan arrive. Jungkook is laughing at something Taehyung is saying, beer in hand, but he keeps glancing at you every time you reach for the banchan. You don't notice as you are trying your best to separate the stack of perilla leaves.

"Oh my God," you mutter, trying to separate them with your chopsticks. "Why are they like this?"

"Here," Jimin says, and his chopsticks slide in from your left, holding the stack steady while you pull one free.

"Thank you," you breathe, relieved, and you don't see the way Jungkook's knuckles go white around his glass.

You look up, and Jungkook is staring at Jimin, and it's nothing like the soft, longing looks he's been throwing your way all night. Jimin, oblivious, or perhaps not, hums as he sets the separated leaves on your plate.

"Jungkook-ah," Namjoon says from across the table. "Pass the garlic?"

Jungkook passes it without looking up.That's when you realize he's staring at the perilla leaves.

Oh.

Oh no.

You know about the perilla leaf debate. Everyone knows about the perilla leaf debate. It's a stupid thing where people argue whether it's okay to help someone else's partner separate their perilla leaves, whether it crosses a line, or not. Usually, usually, it's just internet debates and topics for variety shows.

Jungkook, however, looks like he's about to flip the table.

"So," Jimin says, "how's work been? Did you finish that powerpoint presentation?"

"Yeah, finally," you start to say, but Jungkook cuts in.

"She finished it yesterday," he says, pouring soju into your glass without asking.

Jimin's eyebrows lift. "Did she?"

"Mhm. She texted me at three in the morning," Jungkook says.

Namjoon looks up from his phone. Hobi pauses with his mouth full.

"Jungkook, that's not-" you say, blushing.

"Do you want some meat?" he asks instead, grabbing the kitchen scissors and carefully cutting the grilled pork belly into bite-sized pieces before placing them on your plate.

"Thanks..." you say slowly.

Jimin watches with his head tilted. He looks between you and Jungkook, then back to the perilla leaves.

"Ah," Jimin says softly.

"Ah what?" Taehyung asks.

"Nothing," Jimin says with a grin. He reaches for the perilla leaves again. "Do you want another one? These are really good." His chopsticks hover over the stack.

Jungkook's chopsticks hit his plate with a clatter.

"You don't have to. I'll do it," Jungkook says quickly.

"It's fine," Jimin says sweetly, separating another leaf. "I don't mind."

"I said," Jungkook replies, enunciating each word, "I'll do it."

He takes the leaf from Jimin's chopsticks and places it on your plate himself. Then he looks at Jimin with an expression that makes your stomach flip.

"Jungkook..." you say quietly.

"Eat," he tells you, looking at you with those soft eyes that could kill you.

Jimin leans back, studying Jungkook.

"What is it?" Hobi asks, looking between them.

"Just... perilla leaves," Jimin says. "You know the debate, right? Whether it's okay to help someone else's person with their leaves?"

The table goes absolutely silent and you want to disappear into the floor.

"Guys, seriously, it's not-"

"Some people think it's too intimate," Jimin continues, looking at Jungkook.

"And what do you think?" you ask.

Jimin shrugs playfully. "I think intention matters."

"What's your intention?" Jungkook asks.

Jimin holds his gaze for a long moment. Then he laughs, breaking the tension, and reaches over to pat Jungkook on the shoulder.

"Relax, maknae. I'm just teasing."

The rest of dinner passes quickly. Every time Jimin speaks to you, Jungkook finds a reason to touch you or get your attention. For the first time, it's not meant to be subtle. It's almost like a competition to see who hands you your coat when you leave or who walks closest to you on the way out.

Everyone agrees to walk to the Han River, grab some ice cream from a convenience store, and sit on the benches by the water. None of you are ready to go home yet.

You hang back, letting the others drift ahead. Jungkook stays beside you, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"You didn't have to do that," you say quietly.

"Do what?"

"Mark your territory."

He stops walking. You stop too, turning to face him.

"Is that what you think I was doing?" he asks.

"I don't know what you were doing, Jungkook. You acted like Jimin committed a crime by helping me with dinner."

He looks away. "You don't get it."

"Then explain it to me."

"The perilla leaf thing is stupid. I know it's stupid. But...I always want to be the one helping you. And I know I don't have the right to feel like that, but I do."

"Jungkook..." you say softly, trying to get him to look at you.

"Don't say whatever you're going to say. Let me just... let me have this one moment where I pretend it's okay that I feel this way, even though I'm your friend and I'm supposed to just be cool with Jimin flirting with you."

"He wasn't flirting."

"He was," Jungkook insists, finally looking at you. "Maybe he didn't mean it like that, but he was, and I hated it. I hated it so much. I wanted to be the one helping you, even with something as stupid as perilla leaves."

"You know," you say softly, "you could have just said something instead of starting a silent war at the dinner table."

"I don't know how to say things," he admits. "I only know how to... want... from a distance."

"That's the problem," you say as you reach out, your fingers finding his. His hand relaxes, and he threads his fingers through yours. "You think you're being subtle, but you're not. Everyone at that table knows exactly what's happening."

"Did you?"

"Yeah." You smile. "I know... and I think I've been waiting for you to help me with my perilla leaves for a pretty long time now."

"Don't joke."

"I'm not joking."

"Jimin was testing you, Kook."

"Testing me?"

"Yeah. He was messing with you. It was so obvious he was challenging you. He wanted to see if you'd finally do something about it." You smile. "He's not stupid. He saw it before either of us did."

Jungkook groans. "So I played right into his hands."

"And you were very dramatic about it," you say with a sigh.

"Shut up," he says, smiling.

"I liked it. I really like it when you stop being quiet about wanting."

He takes another small step closer. "So... can I help you with your perilla leaves next time?"

"Only if you're not doing it just to be polite."

He smiles nervously "I'm doing it because I want to be the person you reach for."

You look at him, at the tiny chocolate-chip mole beneath his lip that you've wanted to kiss for months.

Then you do.

You have to.

He's standing there with his heart in his hands, offering it to you like it's nothing.

His hands come up to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing softly along your jaw as he kisses you back.

When you finally pull away, his forehead rests against yours.

"Does this mean I won the war?" he asks, breathless.

"You were the only one fighting it, you idiot," you laugh, giving his chest a light shove. "Jimin wasn't actually interested. He has a crush on the barista at his coffee shop."

Jungkook blinks. "What?"

"Namjoon told me last week."

He stares at you, dropping his head to your shoulder. "I made a fool of myself for nothing."

"Not for nothing," you say, running your fingers gently through his soft hair. "You finally stopped being quiet."

He lifts his head.

"I can be loud," he says. "If you want. About this, about you."

"Show me."

"Gladly."

And he does. He kisses you again, deeper this time, and you smile against his lips.

Then Taehyung's voice carries over from farther up the path.

"Finally! Took you long enough!"

You laugh into his mouth and pull him even closer.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

tysm for reading! <3 divider

— absolutely spends the night attached to you. he sleeps with his face buried in your neck and keeps pressing sleepy kisses against your shoulder like he’s trying to memorize you before he goes

— keeps sneaking pictures of you before tour starts because “i need new pictures of my girlfriend before i leave” and most of them end up blurry because he’s laughing (happy) while taking them

— acts dramatic by joking about how you’re gonna forget him while he’s gone but gets noticeably quieter the closer departure gets

— definitely slips one of your shirts into his suitcase when packing. doesn’t tell you either. you just notice it missing later

— the morning he leaves he keeps lingering around the apartment for no reason. touching things. hugging you again after already saying goodbye. like he doesn’t actually want to walk out the door and leave

during tour boyfriend!jungkook :(

— sends you spotify links at like 2am with no explanation. just “this reminded me of u” and it’s always some ridiculously lovesick song

— facetimes you while half asleep after concerts and keeps the camera on even when neither of you are talking because he likes hearing you around in the background

— has a habit of taking pictures of random things to send you. the view outside his hotel. his breakfast. blurry backstage selfies. his shoes. literally anything because his first thought is always “i should show her”

— misses physical affection the most. he’ll complain dramatically about not being able to hold or touch you and then immediately get embarrassed after saying it :(

— sometimes falls asleep texting you and you wake up to messages that make absolutely no sense because he was drifting off halfway through typing them

— acts like he’s perfectly fine being away until you’re the one that says you miss him first and then suddenly he’s all like “yeah, i miss you”

— secretly rereads your old texts late at night when he can’t sleep after concerts because hotel rooms feel too quiet without you there with him

— keeps your shirt in his suitcase the entire tour even after it stops smelling like you because it still feels comforting to have something that’s yours

after tour boyfriend!jungkook :)

— whenever he comes home he walks around the apartment checking everything out for no reason like he has to remind himself he’s actually back home

— absolutely the type to stand behind you while you cook just so he can wrap his arms around your waist and rest his face in your shoulder, just breathing you in

— follows you around for at least the first two days after tour because he missed being near you so much

— domestic moments become his favorite thing ever after tour. grocery shopping together. folding laundry together. laying in bed doing absolutely nothing together. he missed those normal parts of you the most while away

— gets weirdly emotional over little things after being away for so long. your shampoo in the bathroom. your side of the bed. hearing you moving around the apartment in the morning

— sleeps so much better next to you after tour and refuses to let go of you the entire night. one arm around your waist and a leg kicked over your own like he’s scared he'll be alone again if he loosens his grip

— honestly just looks happier being home with you. softer smile. calmer energy. constantly pulling you close like being around you finally lets him relax again

Perm taglist : @kimmynammy @celliez @alphabetically-deranged @m4aimm @raceme2hell @bo-rimmy @mustanggbabyy (comment or ask to be added)

The cafeteria was too bright for a Tuesday morning and far too loud for a woman who was trying, desperately, to act like she wasn’t watching her ex-boyfriend feed a piece of croissant to her work best friend… the woman was you, of course. And “work best friend”, well… At this point, you weren’t sure that label still applied.

You sat stiffly at your tiny table by the window, stirring a coffee you had no intention of drinking, pretending to scroll through emails as laughter drifted across the room like a punch you really should’ve dodged. Every few seconds you peeked up, unable to stop yourself, drawn in by the strange combination of self-inflicted torture and morbid fascination.

There they were.

Bogyum and Tsuki.

Two months ago, you and Bogyum had broken up, very amicably, maturely, with soft voices and an adult acknowledgment that your relationship had run its course. There had been no yelling, no throwing of belongings, no dramatic goodbye in the rain, just two adults sitting on your couch, deciding you were better off as friends.

It had hurt, of course. You don’t date someone for almost a year and walk away with nothing but a shrug. But it was a clean break, respectful and very gentle. Something that needed to happen. The pain was just nostalgia and a wish of something that could be everything but didn’t.

You had even said, “I hope you find someone amazing soon.”

Apparently, “soon” had been an understatement. And, apparently “hope” had been a lie of yours.

But of course! Who in the world would wish an ex to find someone in just two months?.

Because yes, just two months later he was there, feeding pieces of buttery pastry to Tsuki like some rom-com boyfriend in an aggressive display of moving on. Tsuki, your coworker. Tsuki, your morning-coffee buddy. Tsuki, the one who used to complain to you about men and who once cried into your office couch after a bad breakup.

Work besties were fake as hell.

You watched Tsuki blush as Bogyum leaned in to whisper something. And you knew it was probably something that he had whispered to you before. And the worst thing was… they looked happy. Stupidly happy. Laughing like they weren’t sitting in the same cafeteria where you had shared countless lunches with both of them.

But you weren’t angry. Of course not. You were just…

…Okay, no, you were definitely angry.

Not because you still wanted Bogyum. You didn’t. You had accepted that you simply weren’t right for each other and those romantic feeling weren’t there anymore. But because— really? Two months? With her? When you had been right there the whole time, unknowingly playing matchmaker by introducing them and joking that they’d probably get along better?.

Well, they clearly did!.

You had felt something back then. A weird little spark in the air you couldn’t place, a few too-long glances, a few too-quick dismissals. But you pushed it aside because you trusted both of them, because you believed in boundaries and girl code and the unspoken rule that your work bestie would tell you if something was… shifting.

Instead, you got blindsided in the fluorescent-lit hellhole of the company cafeteria.

The spoon clinked against your cup as you stirred with unnecessary aggression. You forced your eyes back to your phone. To your emails, schedules, the upcoming tour you were managing for the group you represented. The only thing keeping you sane these days.

“You look like you’re plotting something violent,” a voice said.

You didn’t startle, because you knew that voice. It was loud, teasing and familiar. It was Jung Hoseok, one of your best friends and a member of the group you were now representing, sliding into the chair across from you with a tray overflowing with food.

Hoseok— or Hobi as everyone liked to called him, including you— was one of your closest friends. You’ve met him almost a decade ago when you were starting in the business and after years of friendship and growing professionally, he was the one to recommend you for a new position at his company when you were looking for a change of heart.

Change of heart meaning change of company and a better salary with a better contract, of course. Which, honestly, you were thankful. Thanks to him you found it.

Behind him came Lena, part of their stage design team. You had been working with her over a year now and she was one of your others close friends at work. She sat beside Hoseok, blowing on her hot chocolate.

“You alright?” Lena asked, studying your face with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah,” you lied far too quickly.

Hobi followed your gaze across the cafeteria and let out a low whistle. “Oof. Yikes. That’s… bold.”

Lena elbowed him. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“What? I’m just saying… actually, no, I’m not saying anything. I’m shutting up.” He grabbed a muffin defensively. “Look at me shutting up.”

You exhaled through your nose, a sharp, shaky sigh. “It’s fine. Really.”

Hobi tilted his head. “You want me to start a small fire? Nothing serious, just a little chaos. A spilled drink near the electrical outlets maybe.” You snorted.

“That’s still serious,” Lena hissed. “Stop making her laugh about arson.”

Hoseok shrugged. “Arson solves many emotional problems.”

“Okay, Arson by J-hope.” You said jokingly. Despite yourself, a tiny smile cracked your face. “Don’t joke about it. You know I might do it.”

The artist took a large bite of his muffin and talked around it. “Okay, what about an escape plan. When do we leave for tour prep? I heard you’re kidnapping us early.”

“Yeah,” you jumped at the topic like it was a lifeline thrown into stormy waters. “The label wants you guys in tour-rehearsals sooner since we already have everything ready to be set. We’re starting next Monday. Full-day schedules, staging tests, media blocking, the whole mess. Since you already had the choreography and all that, we just need to accommodate the schedules and all of the technical shit.”

“Sounds fun,” he said.

“It’s not,” you replied flatly.

Lena laughed into her cup. “I’m excited. I love tour season. Everyone’s in chaos, sleep-deprived, and somehow more honest.”

You huffed a soft laugh. “Well, at least I’ll get a break from…”

Your gaze almost drifted across the room again. You were slowly going insane.

Hobi sensed the tension. “Oh… yeah. Them.”

A muscle in your jaw twitched. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m over him. It’s just… it’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Lena said softly. “But it will be.”

Your shoulders deflated a little. “Well at least this tour will help. I won’t have to see those fake bitches every day.” Hobi and Lena exchanged a look. “What?” you asked slowly.

Lena winced. “Honey…”

Hobi was less delicate. “They’re coming too.”

Your brain stopped for a full second. “…What?”

“You know Bogyum is part of the music direction team for the tour,” Hobi reminded gently.

“And Tsuki’s on wardrobe logistics,” Lena added.

No.

No, no, no.

“What? I thought he was just an engineer!”

“Yeah, exactly why we take him with us.” Hobi shook his head in disbelief of your stupidity.

“And her? I thought she was just making your looks for interviews!” You grabbed your head, feeling dizzy.

“She’s head of her department. She’s been in charge of our clothes for a time now.” He explained before frowning. “Girl, did you even pay attention when they talk?”

You ignored his last comment and blinked at them. Slowly, trying to accept the reality.

“So both of them… Both of them are coming.”

Lena nodded like she was delivering a terminal diagnosis. “For the whole tour cycle.”

Your soul left your body, walked into traffic, got hit by a bus, resurrected, and crawled back just to scream inside your chest.

You sat back in your chair. “I’m going to kill myself.”

Hobi laughed very loud, Lena hit your arm. “Don’t say that—”

“You know what I mean,” you groaned, dropping your forehead onto the table. “I’m being dramatic. Let me be dramatic. Please. I deserve it.”

“Drama is allowed,” Hobi said, patting your head like you were a cat. “Honestly, encouraged.”

You peeked up, face half-smushed against the table. “I can’t handle seeing them flirt every day. I’m barely surviving knowing they’d probably been fucking for weeks and I don’t even have a sex life anymore...”

“We really didn’t need to know that.”

“You could just ignore them,” Lena suggested weakly.

“I tried that. My eyeballs refuse to cooperate.”

Hobi laughed so dramatically, like always, he nearly spilled his orange juice.

You pressed your palms over your face, inhaled deeply through your fingers, and reminded yourself you were an adult. A professional. A capable manager of one of the biggest bands in the world— if not the biggest—. A woman who handled crises and egos and multi-million-dollar budgets with composure… but maybe you could not handle your ex feeding your work best friend a dry croissant like it was fucking caviar.

Beautiful, fantastic, it felt like a victory of modern womanhood.

Hobi finished eating and glanced at you with a suddenly serious expression. “Hey. For what it’s worth… it sucks. And you’re allowed to feel weird about it.”

Lena nodded. “It doesn’t mean you’re not over him. It just means you’re human.”

You swallowed hard, the tightness in your throat loosened a little. The jealousy was still palpitating really hard though.

“I know,” you murmured. “But they have the audacity because why the fuck are they doing that in front of me?.”

“You’re right about that.” Hoseok squeezed your hand like a kid. “Hey, we got you.”

“Are you gonna fired them for me?” You asked, your voice sweet as honey.

“Girl,” he rolled his eyes, not even bothering to answer your stupid question.

“Fuck you, you’re useless.” Hobi laughed, Lena looked at you like you were crazy for talking like that to a big superstar. You pushed your chair back, grabbing your bag and the big orange juice bottle Hobi barely touched. “Alright. Enough about this, I need to actually work. And I’m taking this drink with me.”

“Whatever,” Hobi perked up. “Oh! Speaking of work, Jungkook said he might swing by today.”

Your heart didn’t react— because it never did when someone mentioned Jungkook. He was… Jungkook. Loud, stupid, annoying… sweet. The guy who joked way too often about being “madly in love” with you and that was absolutely... unserious. It was all bits.

Ridiculous, unserious, unserious bits.

“And that includes me because…?” You frowned, confused.

“I don’t know,” Hobi shrugged. “He just wanted me to tell you. I think he might be passing by your office like he always does and it’s giving a heads-up.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “That man needs a hobby.”

“You are his hobby,” Hobi corrected, standing. “But it’s fine. It’s cute.

You waved him off and gathered your things. “It’s not, it’s concerning. Tell him to stop being pathetic.”

He grinned. “That’s like telling the ocean to stop being wet.” Lena snorted.

Together you walked out of the cafeteria, but as you passed the table where your ex and Tsuki sat, her laughter floated in the air again, light and bright and infuriating. Like she actually wanted you to hear.

Your stomach twisted. You forced your gaze forward, shoulders stiff, chin lifted, every step painfully stiff.

Two months.

Two. Fucking. Months.

And now you had to watch them hold hands and kissing each other all the way across the word on a tour you were in charge of… like you were planning their fucking honeymoon.

Great.

Perfect. Amazing. Fantastic.

You loved that for you. Yay!

As you pushed open the door to the hallway, you heard that irritating laugh again. You let out a long breath and muttered under your breath before turning around to that table.

“Fuck it. I’m going to kill them both.”

———————

BTS TOUR SCHEDULE — (group chat).

Hoseok: soo, how u doing @ y/n

Jimin: don’t start drama 😭

You: i’m about to kms

Taehyung: nooo don’t kys you’re so sexy hah 💔

Jungkook: real

Jungkook: (don’t call her sexy wtf)

You: yk when i got this job i thought my only love drama would be NOT having time to date

You: NOW I HAVE TO SEE THAT BITCH FACE ALL THE TOME WITH HUS NEE GIRL OMG

You: OMG OMG I WILL LITERALLY END MUSELF RN BYE

You: WHAT KIND OR KARMA ANI PAYIFN??

You: IS THIS BECAUSE MY DAD WAS UNFAITHFUL??

You: HESUS ISS LITERRALG NOT MY FAULT

Namjoon: she’s texting like ass again

Namjoon: she’s mad

Yoongi: you know, this is a group chat we created so you can send us tour info

Yoongi: the tour you’re clearly not working on

You: can u stfu?

You: can’t u see i’m about to put a bullet between my eyes?????

Yoongi: …..

Hoseok: well i have to admit it was pretty funny how you “accidentally” threw orange juice at them

Hoseok: can’t believe the security guard believe it????

You: well because it was clearly an accident???

Hoseok: you literally threw it from the other side of the cafeteria

Hoseok: crazy

Jin: wait that’s funny

You: IT ISNT NOW EVERYONE TGINKS IM A JEALOUS EX ANS THAT I HAVENT MOVE ON

Jin: well…

You: IM NOT JEALOUS AND I HAVEE MOVE ON

Namjoon: relax, it’s okay if you’re feeling mad but remember

Namjoon: you broke up 2 months ago, the fact that he’s dating someone doesn’t mean he won or something

Namjoon: like yes, everyone thinks you haven’t move on yet bc of the orange thing

Namjon: and yeah, you looked like you are still a crazy ex gf that hasn’t move on

Namjoon: and yeah, it looks like you’re insecure

Namjoon: specially since youre single

You: WHERE THE FUCJ ARE GOING WITH THIS!?

Namjoon: ok i actually forgot

Namjoon: im drunk

Jin: it’s 1pm?

Hoseok: damm is he in one of those depressing moods again?

Yoongi: how do i mute this chat?

Taehyung: i say beat his ass

Jungkook: YES

Taehyung: if my ex was dating my supposed “work bestie” two months after we broke up i would literally commit murder

Jimin: NOOO

Jimin: just be the mature person, show him u don’t care

You: ok

Jimin: good

You: i will kill him, her and then myself so i don’t go to jail

You: play kill bill by sza while im at it

Jin: is it ever that serious?

Jimin: jesus christ

You: stop acting like the bigger person

Jimin: i’m literally skinny idk wdym

You: give me a real good idea then

Jimin: hell no, ure literally psychotic

Jimin: i don’t joke around u anymore after THAT incident remember???

You: okay so i just kms then???

Yoongi: yes

Jimin: yes

You: damn men are literally so useless

You: thank you guys for NOTHING

You: now i have to see THOSE FUCKERS EVERYDAY ON TOUR, EBERY DUCKING DAY

You: AND HEAR PEOPLE TALKINF ABOUT HOW I HAVENT MOVE ONE BECAUSE IN NOT DATING ANYLNE

Hoseok: and because you threw orange juice at them

Hoseok: and bc you look at them with disgust

Hoseok: and because you called her a bitch behind her back

You: i was referring to him??

Taehyung: as she should tbh

Jungkook: why don’t you just date someone else?

Jungkook: someone else = me

Jimin: you’re so subtle wow

Namjoon: dating someone else doesn’t mean you’re over the relationship tho

Jungkook: are u my friend or enemy?

Namjoon: well she clearly doesn’t wanna date someone else

You: wait ure cooking

Namjoon: thanks. people need to stop thinking just because you’re not dating someone it means you’re not over the relationship

Namjoon: sometimes you just need to focus on yourself u know?

You: i meant jungkook is cookin

You: you can’t stfu forever drunkie

Yoongi: that’s not even a word?

You: you’re not even a word?

Yoongi: ???

Jungkook: WAIT FOR REAL?

You: yes

Jungkook: OMG OKAY OMG OMG

You: any of u knows a hot guy who will be into me?

Jungkook: OKAY I HAVE THE PERFECT DATE IDEA

Jungkook: WAIT

You: but like only for a couple of weeks until ppl see i clearly moved on and then i don’t have to date no one 4 a while

Jungkook: WTF

You: also it would be perfect if he has a visa

Jimin: go see a therapist pls

Jungkook: ME ME

Jungkook: I KNOW ME

Jungkook: i’m perfect for this role

Jungkook: ME

Jungkook: ME

Jungkook: YO

Jungkook: JE

Jungkook: I

You: tae introduce me to park bogum

Taehyung: he’s too good for u

You: fuck you?

Jungkook: ME

Jungkook: CHOSE ME

Taehyung: ?? i was just being honest

You: whatever

You: jimin give me taemin’s number @

Jimin: why would i do that to him?

Jungkook: ILL DO IT

Jungkook: MEEEE

You: u have taemins number?

Jungkook: NO WTF

Jungkook: ILL DATE YOU

You: okay u know what? fuck u guys

You: ure not help, ill go find someone by myself

Jin: good luck!!!

You: kys

Jungkook: i can’t do this anymore

———————

There were only two things on earth you truly hated at the moment: 1. Your ex’s stupid, smug face. And two, the conference room.

And today, unfortunately, you were stuck with both.

The room was too white, too bright, too corporate to be a space meant for creative teams. Whoever chose the lights deserved jail time. And whoever decided to schedule a “quick pre-tour briefing” four hours after you accidentally baptized your ex and your work ex-best-friend with orange juice deserved death by electric chair.

You sat at the long table, hair still slightly frizzy from stress, pretending to be busy typing on your laptop while the early arrivals trickled in. Deep breaths. New day. New meeting. Same suffering.

The first to enter was Hobi, who had been with you when you received that email after throwing that orange juice and who decided to run away when he saw the security guard trying to scold you.

“I have to say, great aim. Ten out of ten.” He applauded before taking a seat in front of you.

“Shut up before I kill you.”

The second to enter the room was Taehyung and Jimin who came in laughing like they already knew their presence would piss you off… which did.

“Hoseok send me the video—” Taehyung started.

“You recorded it?!” You screamed at him.

“I had to!”

“— And I gotta say, nine out of ten form. Points deducted because you didn’t hit them in the face with the bottle.” He said with laughter.

“You’re insane.” Jimin pointed at you. “Clinically.”

Namjoon, Jin and Yoongi entered the room next. You sighed, already annoyed by the comments they hadn’t make yet… Where was a damn gun when you needed it the most?.

God, you wished you were in the USA.

“Damn, you look like someone who’s seen war,” the older said, dropping into the chair beside you, on the left.

You didn’t look up. “I have. It’s called having a meeting with you all.”

Namjoon snorted. “Your aura is… crackling. Like you’re one minor inconvenience away from committing a light crime.”

You continued typing aggressively. “Define light.”

“Like, not prison but definitely community service.”

“That’s fair.” You looked at him. “Being drunk at work is also a light crime. Do you know that?.”

Namjoon looked away. You looked back at your laptop, satisfied.

Yoongi tried not to smile. “Why does the room feel… stabby today?”

“You’re all pissing me off,” you said between teeth.

The rapper glared at you now. “I’m literally just sitting.”

“Your presence pisses me off.”

“Your face pisses me off.”

“Your height pisses me off.”

“Hey, don’t be mean.” Hoseok called you out. “And don’t worry, they’re not coming. Lena came up with an excuse and send them to do some work. I told them management would send them this meeting by email.”

You threw your head back, almost relieved. “I love you so much.”

Before he could respond, the door burst open again. Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook, who walked into rooms like he forgot gravity applied to him. Jungkook, who looked like a bad boy out of a magazine but had the eyes and personality of a lost poodle puppy. Jungkook, who had confessed fake love for you so many times it had become an inside joke among the group.

Jungkook, who you were currently— always— ignoring on purpose.

“GOOD AFTERNOON MY BELOVED COLLEAGUES—” he began dramatically, then spotted you to sit next beside you, on your right. “—and sunshine angel of my existence.”

You didn’t even blink.

Jimin groaned. “Bro. Tone it down.”

Jungkook leaned forward to you like he was auditioning for the role of “irritating”.

“So,” he said brightly. “Have you thought more about the fake boyfriend situation?” You slammed your laptop shut so fast Jin jumped. Namjoon choked on air. Jungkook smiled, smug and unbothered. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Ignore him,” Hoseok whispered. “His brain is made of helium.”

You rubbed your face, irritated. “I am not discussing this here—” You raised your eyebrows. “— Unless Taehyung gives me Bogum number.”

“I won’t.”

“Come on,” you whined. “All the men I know are either emotionally unavailable, physically unavailable or jail candidates.”

Namjoon snorted. “What about that cute accountant on floor 5?”

“Married. With twins.”

“The intern?”

“Looks like he’s gonna cry every time he’s spoken to.”

“A random bar guy?”

“Last time I tried that I ended up giving relationship advice to someone blacked out.”

“…fair.”

“I volunteer,” Jungkook put his hands up. “I’m emotional and physically available. No jail records.”

“No.”

“My girl needs me. I need to help.”

“No. And I’m not your girl.”

“I’m very helpful.”

“No.”

“Come on,” he whined. “I’m handsome, charismatic, veeery kissable.”

“We didn’t ask any of that,” Yoongi made a disgusted face.

“Well, I’m involved anyway.” Jungkook gave him a look. “I already told the universe we’re soulmates. Feels rude for her not to catch up.”

“Please go away before I report you to HR.”

“Say you love me and I’ll consider it.”

“I’d rather drink bleach,” you glared at him. “Go away.”

Jungkook smiled at you. “Kinky.”

“I’m literally going to lose my mind because of you,” you told him. Slowly. Like you were warning him.

“Cool. I’ll drive you to the asylum.” He sighed, a dramatic-movie-sigh. “You make me lose my mind too. Maybe we can go together. That would be so romantic.”

“Stop trying to help.”

“I am helping,” he shrugged. “Let me be your boyfriend. Fake one. Real one. Soulmate one. I’m versatile.”

“Stop talking.”

You rolled your eyes so hard they almost went to the back of your head. You could handle many things but Jungkook trying to flirt when you were about to have a maniac episode was moving you to the edge of it. You stared past him, at the clock, at the wall, at the meaninglessness of existence, anywhere except his stupidly hopeful eyes.

More people trickled in: assistants, managers, a stylist, two producers, one social media manager, The room filled quickly, noise building, but Jungkook stayed laser-focused on you like an idiot with a crush the size of a continent.

You took out your phone. If you didn’t get a solution soon, you were going to implode. Group chats. Twenty messages from earlier. And then— A brilliant, terrible idea lit up in your brain like a criminal epiphany. A dating app. Not for actually looking for someone to date. No, no. For a temp boyfriend… well, maybe a hook-up. That wouldn’t hurt no one. Or a prop. A human shield.

You started installing the app.

Jungkook watched you with narrowed eyes, immediately recognizing that spark in your face. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re doing something.”

You raised your chin. “I’m downloading a dating app.”

The collective reaction was immediate: Taehyung froze mid-scroll. Hoseok snapped his head around. Yoongi mouthed ‘wow’. Even one of the producers looked interested in the conversation.

Jungkook looked personally offended by the universe. “You’re WHAT?” he sputtered. “Why?!”

You shrugged, casual, smug, destructive. “To find a fake boyfriend.”

“You can’t just find a fake boyfriend on a dating app,” Hoseok said, horrified and fascinated.

“Watch me.”

“Oh my God,” Jimin whispered, delighted. “She’s unwell.”

Jungkook looked like you had stabbed him with a knife. Repeatedly.

“A dating app?!” he repeated, voice cracking like a heartbroken teen in a high school musical. “You’d rather find a STRANGER than me? ME?! I already submitted my résumé! I’m pre-approved!”

You lifted a hand without looking at him. “Shh. I’m working.”

“NO, YOU’RE SELF-DESTRUCTING,” he said, looking over your shoulder to watch your phone. “This is a cry for help.” You opened the app, creating your profile. Jungkook stared in betrayal. “Pick me,” he muttered under his breath, dramatic and pathetic. “Choose me. Love me.”

“Grey’s Anatomy isn’t a personality,” you deadpanned before pushing him slightly so he wouldn’t be that close to you.

“YOU USED TO SAY I WAS YOUR MCDREAMY—”

“Never in my life did I say that nor watched that show.”

The meeting hadn’t even started and you already wanted to walk into the ocean and drowned yourself.

Jin leaned closer. “So… what are you writing on your profile?”

“I don’t know. Something honest.”

Yoongi laughed loudly. “You? Honest? No offense but I’ve seen you smile at people you hate.”

You ignored him and began typing:

“Looking for someone hot to be my temporary boyfriend for a long event around the world. Must have a pulse, visa and the ability to lie convincingly.”

Taehyung cackled. “Dude, you’re going to attract criminals.”

“Perfect,” you muttered. “Criminals can lie and they don’t ask questions.”

Jungkook slammed his palm on the table. “THIS IS INSANE. I AM LITERALLY RIGHT HERE.”

You looked at him blankly. “And I am literally ignoring that.”

“I am a fantastic fake boyfriend!”

“You’re too much work.”

“I come housebroken!”

“That’s fucking disgusting. I would rather date a damn dolphin.”

Jungkook flinched like you’d stabbed him again. “That hurt more than the last rejection,” he muttered. “You know exactly what dolphins are capable of. You’re a monster, that hurt me.”

“Probably not more than that orange juice disaster.” Hoseok muttered.

“Hold on.” Jungkook stopped his act suddenly. “Did you actually throw it at your ex?”

“It was an accident!” You defend yourself immediately.

Yoongi snorted. “Define accident.”

“Okay, picture this,” you said, leaning back. “I was sitting. Minding my business. Drinking my coffee. They started giggling. GIGGLING. And then my hand slipped into Hobi’s juice.”

“You flung an entire bottle to them. Like eight meters apart,” Hoseok clarified.

“Yes. Accidentally.”

Jungkook smiled like you had just given him a reason to live. “My girl is so unhinged. It’s beautiful. She’s crazy but I get her. Only I get her. We’re meant to be because of that.”

“Stop flirting,” you hissed.

“I’m not flirting,” he said proudly. “I’m manifesting.”

You rolled your eyes again so hard you saw your past lives.

At the front of the room, the tour manager cleared her throat.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s get started—”

But Jungkook leaned in one more time, whispering so loud even the guy from the other corner of the table could hear:

“You know dating apps are dangerous, right? What if the fake boyfriend you find is a psychopath?”

“Then I’ll finally meet someone who understands me.” You whispered back.

Hoseok choked on laughter. Taehyung slapped his thigh. Yoongi finally giggled. Jungkook stared at you like you were the love of his life and the bane of his existence at the same time.

“Please,” he whispered. “Don’t pick a stranger.”

You clicked ‘done’ at your profile without looking at him.

“I’ll pick whoever I want.”

Jungkook sat back, jaw tight, eyes burning with a deadly combination of jealousy, heartbreak, and pure determination. “Oh,” he murmured, “I’m getting that job.”

“What job?” Taehyung asked.

Jungkook didn’t look away from you. “My future role as her fake boyfriend who becomes her husband.”

You pretended you didn’t hear that. Like always.

Shit, it almost felt like a second job ignoring Jungkook’s comments. Specially those last two months when you became single again.

———————

BTS TOUR SCHEDULE — (group chat).

You: guys i had a date last night

Jungkook: i’m gonna kill myself

Jungkook: why would you tell me that?

You: I said guys not just Jungkook

You: and i need an advice

Namjoon: about what

Jungkook: did u have fun?

Jungkook: let me know if you have a 2nd date so i can go and shot myself in the head

You: anyway

You: so the date went great but at the end of the night he made this weird comment that threw me off a little

Jin: what?

Yoongi: did he tell you about that thing in ur eyes?

You: he told me i would be perfect if i were french???

You: like wtf is that supposed to mean

You: like????

You: bitch i’m level 5 in duolingo fucking try me

You: La pomme est rouge

You: wait

Hoseok: “you would be perfect if you were french” a fate worse than death 💔💔

You: what thing about my eyes???

Jimin: thats ur mistake for going out with a french guy

Jungkook: right??? like why would you WILLINGLY go out with a french guy?

Namjoon: i saw the pics so i get it

Jungkook: don’t take her side

Yoongi: lol

You: yoongi what thing about my eyes?

Jungkook: he hates u, i heard french people hate women

You: rumours rumours

You: or as the french would say rumours rumours

Yoongi: ?

You: that last one was with a french accent but i can’t write it so…

You: anyway enemies to lovers trope here i go

You: btw what thing about my eyes?

Jungkook: are you actually going on another date with him?

You: well no he later told me he was into cars but in that crazy way

Taehyung: waitttt

You: next morning i was running away fast as flash

Hoseok: mechanophilia kind of shit?

Jin: how tf do you know how is it called?

Hoseok: i be knowing things

Yoongi: weird

You: hi, can you tell me what thing about my eyes pls?

Namjoon: wait, next morning?

You: oh uhmmmmmm

You: hahahaha

You: ehmmmm

You: lol

Jungkook: NEXT MORNING

Jungkook: NEXT MRONIGN OOMMGGG DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM??!?

Jungkook: I CANT BREATHE

Jungkook: GYYS HELP EMME I CANT BREATHR

Jin: honestly, if you slept with him and he ends up trying to convert you into a car that’s on you

You: well i didn’t so now what?

Jin: i will make up a reason and report back

Jungkook: so you disnt sleep with him’?

You: no, we just kiss a little

You: all night

Jungkook: i’m dead

Yoongi: disgusting tbh

You: WHAT THING ABLUT MY EYESA

Jimin: i can’t believe you WILLINGLY kissed a guy that has melancholy and that is french

Hoseok: thats not-

Jimin: like that’s crazy ash, imagine talking with someone and he’s like front lights, motors 🤤

Jungkook: right?? 😭

Jimin: like oh i have melatonin let me fuck a car??? crazy

Namjoon: are we shaming people now?

Jin: don’t even try to defend that condition

Hoseok: sexual orientation ❤️

Yoongi: you’re all weird

You: kink shaming is not right guys 💔💔

You: also, you all have weird shit going on too sooo you can’t be talking

Jungkook: AT LEAST I DONT SANNA FUCK CARS WTF

Taehyung: i fucked in a car once

You: and no one gave a fuck

Jin: why are you going on dates anyway?

You: i literally talked about this last week with you guys??

You: i’m looking for my fake boyfriend

You: or the loml now

You: whoever comes first

You: i’m back in the market, tell ur friends (bogum) yayy

Jungkook: looking for the love of ur life n french people??

You: WHATS WRONG EOTH FRENCH PEOPLE???

Taehyung: i love france

You: i love france too 😍😍

You: can you give me bogum’s number pls pretty pls

Jungkook: i’m frenchphobic now

Yoongi: baguette?

Hoseok: careful, you’ll scare him

You: hi yoongi can you tell me what thing about my eyes

Namjoon: no cuz why would you be scared of french people???

Jin: i get it

You: moving on

Jungkook: are u gonna see him again?

You: i already said no

Jungkook: good

You: let my BE CLEAR

You: my decision bc i won’t date mechanic guys

Jimin: at least u have some sense, who hookups with a megaphone??

Hoseok: sighsss

Hoseok: i wrote it before how can you get it wrong again

Taehyung: anyway now we can move on ❤️

Jungkook: she KISSED someone else

Jungkook: HOW DO YOU WANT ME TO MOVE ON????

You: moving on

You: this dating thing is not working out

Namjoon: u just went on ONE date

You: yeah and didn’t work out??

You: i think i might need to actually kill them??

You: i have to see them again tomorrow at that fuckass meeting

You: i can’t do it

Yoongi: u mean the IMPORTANT meeting about OUR tour

You: yeah that stupid shit

You: AND THEN I HAVE to go to the lunch group with them

Taehyung: well most of us are too so u are not alone yayy

You: idgaf I NEED A PLANNN

You: i’ll just quit

You: so guys this is my formal resignation letter, thank u for the opportunity it meant a lot to me. wishing u the best!! go army saranghee💙

Hoseok: you literally have to talk to HR??? we’re not the ones who hired you??

Jimin: also wtf is that blue heart

You: army?

Taehyung: bitch borahae??? I PURPLE YOU??? ARE U SERIOUS??

You: well very vague

You: 💜

You: there u go

You: i’m still giving that resignation letter

You: you all can dieee

You: unless @ tae gives me Bogum’s number

You: …

You: no?

You: okay fucking die all of you

Yoongi: get a grip challenge

———————

If hell had a lobby, it would look exactly like HYBE’s building cafeteria at 6PM: buzzing, fluorescent, humming with forced cheer of exhausted industry workers pretending they weren’t two inches from burnout. You actually survived the meeting. Barely. And now the “quick hangout” that followed— which, in reality, meant everyone decompressing in the big salon while pretending to bond— was your reward. Or your punishment. The line between both had never been thinner.

Your iced tea sat in front of you, untouched.

Not orange juice. Never orange juice again.

Around you, staff members moved in clumps: editors talking to stylists, choreographers chatting with PR people, the dancers somewhere arguing about whether boba tea should be considered a meal. Normal end-of-day chaos.

You sat at a table with three tour staffers and Hoseok. He was in the middle of explaining some lighting malfunction of last year by using four napkins, two salt packets, and a fork when you felt it… the drop in temperature. The shift. The prickling at the back of your neck. A disturbance in the force.

You didn’t even have to turn. You already knew who had appeared.

“Hey… is this seat taken?”

Bogyum. And Tsuki.

Your ex-boyfriend and your work ex–best friend. The Orange Juice Victims.

Fantastic. Great. Amazing, really amazing.

You should’ve chugged poison instead of iced tea.

The three tour guys left immediately with a poor excuse. Hoseok, sensing drama, immediately sat up straighter, like a kid in class suddenly told there would be a surprise exam. In the other table behind your ex boyfriend you saw Taehyung subtly elbowed Jimin, who widened his eyes like this was the best entertainment he’d in months. But they weren’t the only ones watching, you felt dozens of discreet glances from other tables. People trying not to stare but absolutely staring. Whispering behind iced matchas. Pretending to scroll on phones while eavesdropping harder than FBI surveillance.

Bogyum stood awkwardly with a stiff smile. Tsuki twirled the end of her hair, a nervous tic you used to tease her about.

“So,” He said again, softer this time. “Can we… sit?”

Your lips stretched into a controlled, polite smile. “Sure.”

Kill me.

Fucking kill me.

End my life.

You begged God, if it was listening, that he could take you now. Heaven or hell, you could work with any of that. Both were better than staying there.

Bogyum took the seat across from you. Tsuki sat next to him. They were sitting close. Very close. Their knees almost touched under the table. Cute. Adorable. Disgusting. You wanted to throw up. Hoseok looked at you like: Holy shit. Taehyung looked at you like: Do you need me to stab them?. Jimin looked at them like: I can actually see it. You wanted to slap him. Him and the two people in front of you.

You could feel Tsuki’s soft inhale, her cautious voice tiptoeing between kindness and guilt. “So… how are you?”

“I’m great,” you said immediately. Too quickly. Too brightly. Like someone who was absolutely not great. “Amazing, actually.”

Bogyum nodded like he didn’t believe a single syllable. Tsuki tried a small smile.

“That’s good. You look… good.”

“Thanks,” you said, sipping your iced tea to avoid punching a wall. “You guys look… showered.”

They blinked. Hoseok nearly choked.

Tsuki forced a laugh, delicate and unsure. “So, about… last week—”

You cut in instantly, hands lifting in a casual wave. “Oh my god, no, no, don’t worry about that. Totally my fault.”

She blinked. “It is?”

“Absolutely,” you said with the confidence of a politician lying on camera. “I was just, you know, messing around with Hobi.” You gestured toward him; he froze like a criminal caught on tape. “We were joking, and I moved too fast, and— poof! orange juice everywhere.”

Bogyum eyebrows knitted. “Messing around with Hobi?”

“Yep.” You smiled, teeth and all. “We do that. We clown around. Like children. Very playful.”

Hoseok looked like he’d never played a day in his life in that moment. He was so bad at lying, he was dying inside.

Tsuki tilted her head, gentle but searching. “Are you sure? I just… if something’s bothering you, you know you can tell us, right?”

“Oh my god,” you said again, laugh airy and borderline manic. “Why would anything be bothering me?”

Even if they couldn’t hear you, you knew the entire cafeteria collectively thought: We know exactly why.

Bogyum’s tone was careful. His you’re-lying-but-I’m-trying-to-be-nice voice. “Well… people are talking.”

A flicker of irritation sparked behind your ribs. Of course they were. You had been the idiot who launched a citrus grenade at two people in public. You were surprised it wasn’t trending on Twitter by how many people in the company knew your name because of that by now.

“Yeah, I’ve heard some things,” you said breezily, examining your nails like you weren’t seconds away from snapping. “But everything’s fine.”

Tsuki leaned in slightly. “Really? Because… I mean. We didn’t want things to be weird.”

“They’re not weird,” you lied easily. “Not even a little. Why would it be weird? Because my work best friend is dating my ex-boyfriend after two months since we broke up and they didn’t tell me anything?” You snorted. “Not weird at all. Happens a lot.”

They shared a look. You pressed your lips together. There was a minute of silence.

“Things kind of felt weird when we walked in,” she murmured.

“That’s because Hoseok has a face people stare at,” you said, patting his shoulder. He looked wildly offended. “He’s very symmetrical and uncanny. It’s suspicious.”

Bogyum exhaled slowly, like he’d gathered all his courage for his next question. “We just want to make sure you’re okay with… you know… us.”

You wanted to flip the table. Or fling this iced tea at them and call it a pattern. You could say maybe you had a bad muscle, it just twitches sometimes!. But instead you didn’t. You shrugged. Cool. Unbothered. A menace with grace.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? You guys are dating. I’m dating. It’s all good.”

Dead silence.

Hoseok’s water bottle dropped to the floor. Tsuki’s eyebrows shot up. Bogyum blinked twice.

“You’re…” he repeated. “You’re dating someone?”

“Oh, no. I have to clean that. I’ll be right back.”Hoseok left.

You almost said no, that you were lying. Almost. But then the ghost of humiliation passed through you. All the whispers, all the pitying looks, all the “poor girl, dumped and replaced”, “of course she created a fake-boyfriend.” The two-month turnaround. The betrayal. The audacity. The jealousy. The whispers that you haven’t moved on. The pity. The whispers that you were a crazy ex.

And your mouth betrayed your brain.

“Yeah. Totally dating.”

Bogyum exchanged a glance with Tsuki. Shocked, curious, maybe worried you’d picked someone worse than him… unlikely; your bar was low, but not subterranean.

“Oh,” he said, leaning forward with genuine interest. “Do we know him?”

Your brain told you to lie. LIE. LIE NOW. LIE HARD. Your mouth was faster. Thinking that if you took time to think they would discover it’s a lie which caused you a lot of tongue twisters.

“Do you, huh, know him?. You… like— know him?”

Tsuki’s eyes narrowed, confused. “…Do we?”

You hummed. “What?”

Bogyum lifted a brow. “He works here?”

“Like… work? He worked. No, he works. Present, not past. He’s not jobless. He has a job, he’s working. A working man. He definitely works, he’s—“ You said, sweat forming at the back of your neck. “— Around. He’s around. In the… vicinity.”

Taehyung buried his face in his hands. Jimin rubbed his face with embarrassment. Hoseok appeared between both of them, trying not to laugh.

You ex tilted his head. “What does he do?”

“He…” you said, stalling, staring at the table like it would reveal a career for your imaginary lover. “He does… things. Yeah, for sure he does.”

“Things,” he repeated flatly.

“Yes.”

Tsuki tried to be supportive. “Like what kind of things?”

Bogyum frowned. “Do we actually know him?.”

You opened your mouth, about to make up some ridiculous profession like underwater welder or alpaca chiropractor to tell them that they in fact don’t know him… When a shadow fell over the table. A familiar voice, smooth and painfully self-satisfied, said:

“Well, of course you know me.”

The three of you looked up at the same time. Bogyum was shocked. Tsuki was speechless. You were dying internally, very slowly.

Jungkook stood there, hands the pockets of his jacket, casual as hell, smiling like the world’s most annoying guardian angel.

“Jungkook?” Bogyum and Tsuki said together, surprised.

The singer placed a hand on the back of your chair, leaning slightly in with a smirk that should be illegal. “Babe,” he said, way too comfortably, “you didn’t tell them about us?”

You whispered through clenched teeth without moving your smile just so he could see you. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook whispered back: “Saving your psycho ass. Now play along.”

You turned back to Bogyum and Tsuki, laugh loud and fake and borderline terrifying.

“Ha! Yes! Jungkook!” you said, patting his arm aggressively. “My man! My boyfriend! My… male partner of romance!”

Jungkook winced. Bogyum and Tsuki stared between you two, utterly confused.

Jungkook didn’t miss a beat. “We’ve been keeping it low-key. You know how she is.”

Tsuki blinked. “How… she is?”

Jungkook smiled fondly at you like you were the love of his life and not someone who threatened his existence daily. “Chaotic. Impulsive. Adorable. A danger to society.” You stepped on his foot under the table. Hard. He kept smiling. “See that face? So cute.” He looked at them. “But it’s better if we keep it in the low, you know? The media can be very hard, I don’t want my pookie-princess to get hurt.”

Pookie-princess.

You were going to stab him to death. You were going to jail today.

Jungkook didn’t flinch, not even when you basically tried to amputate his foot through his shoe. He just kept smiling like this was the best day of his life. Like crashing your lie was a hobby. Like he’d trained for this moment since birth.

Bogyum cleared his throat, visibly trying to process everything. “So… uh… you two are… together?”

“Yep!” you said at the exact same moment Jungkook said, “Obviously.”

You two looked at each other for 0.2 seconds. Your eyes threatening murder, his sparkling like a golden retriever who found a new toy. Then you both turned back to your ex and his girlfriend with awkward synchronized smiles.

Tsuki pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, looking genuinely confused. “Wow, I mean… I didn’t even know you guys were that close.”

“We are,” Jungkook said smoothly. “Very close.”

He dropped his hand onto your shoulder. You elbowed him. He squeezed your shoulder like, Be normal. You squeezed his hand back like, Die.

Bogyum nodded slowly, still trying to compute the ridiculousness in front of him. “Right. Yeah. I mean, that’s… great. Really great.” His tone changed a little, it seemed a little unbelievable, annoyed. “You’re dating Jeon Jungkook. Wow, great.”

“Super great,” you said, overcompensating so hard your voice cracked.

You didn’t notice the change of tone of your ex-boyfriend but the singer definitely did. Jungkook chuckled softly under his breath, the ‘I’m enjoying this far too much’ chuckle before kissing your cheek, looking at the guy.

Tsuki tilted her head with gentle curiosity. “So, how long have you… been dating?”

Your brain went static. Completely blank. Like someone pulled the plug out of the wall. You opened your mouth. Nothing. Jungkook didn’t even hesitate.

“Two months,” he said.

Two months.

TWO MONTHS.

You whipped your head toward him so fast you nearly sprained your neck. “Two…”

Jungkook overlapped you, smoothly placing a hand over your forearm. “Yeah. Two. You know how she gets with timelines,” he said, speaking directly to Tsuki with a little laugh. “She always forgets when things start because everything is just a whirlwind. She’s a very busy and hardworking woman.”

You could feel your soul leaving your body.

“Two… months,” Bogyum repeated, nodding like he was trying to force the math to math. “So that means you were… together during our breakup?”

“Oh my god— no.” you blurted, horrified. “No, no, no. He means… like… we started getting close then. We got serious recently. Those two months were just us talking. Just talking. You know. Conversations. Like adults. Not romantic. Nothing romantic. Romance is dead—”

“Babe,” Jungkook interrupted with a soft laugh that made you want to stab him, “don’t scare them.”

Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin were across the other table experiencing this like front-row seats to the apocalypse. Taehyung had both hands on his mouth, trying not to cackle. Hoseok looked like he was about to record the entire thing for future enjoyment. Jimin whispered something like “this is super fun” to them. They all nodded.

Tsuki, still polite, still nervous, still sweet, smiled softly. “We’re happy for you both. Really. This just… it’s surprising.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I guess it was it was the same for you guys. Two months after our breakup and, boom! you two together. Very, really very, surprising.”

Jungkook elbowed you discreetly. “She means surprising in a good way. Right, baby?”

Baby. You stepped in his foot again. This time he hissed very quietly.

Tsuki leaned forward with genuine concern. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t have to pretend with us, you know?.”

“Pretend what?” you chuckled, confused and a little scared they could see the lie though you.

“I mean… you and… Jeon Jungkook.” She said.

You froze for a moment. Your eyebrows slightly frowning at the comment. Was she trying to say that you couldn’t pull Jeon Jungkook?.

What the fuck?

“She’s not pretending,” Jungkook said before you could say something else. His tone shifted, soft but firm, annoyingly sincere. “She’s good. I promise. We’re really happy. I am really happy.”

And for a split second, half a breath, you felt something weird in your chest. Annoying. Warm. Like he actually cared. Like he was actually your friend. After so long of pure bits it really felt like the first time he was actually being a friend to you, he was actually backing you up. Ugh. Disgusting. Flush it immediately. He was being a good friend. It made you feel like you could trust him. Like Hoseok… even if he had ran away like a damn pussy.

“Well, you were always flirting with her when we were together.” Bogyum recalled. “I thought it was a joke—”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Jungkook cut him off, shaking his head. “I didn’t actually try anything while you two were together.” A egocentric smirk slowly creeped into his face. “It was right after.”

Silence.

You didn’t know what to say.

What the fuck?.

“Well.” Tsuki clasped her hands together, relief warming her face. Trying to also ignore the tension growing between Bogyum and Jungkook. “We just wanted to check. And apologize. If the timing was weird or too soon, we—”

“Too soon?” you echoed loudly. “Oh no. No, no, no. Love is never too soon. I’m great. Better than great. Look at me.!” You gestured to yourself aggressively. “I’m thriving. We’re thriving.”

“She is,” Jungkook nodded solemnly. “We are.”

She offered a tiny, careful smile. “We’re glad you’re okay.”

“Oh, I’m better than okay—”

“—she’s wonderful,” Jungkook finished for you in that stupid smooth voice. Cutting you off so you could stop shovelling your grave. “Really. Happiest I’ve seen her. Like me when I’m with her.”

And the crazy thing? He didn’t sound sarcastic. Or smug. He sounded… confident. Certain. Like he meant it. You stared at him for a second too long before snapping back to reality and looking at the two people in front of you.

Tsuki nudged Bogyum. “We should get going. We have that dinner soon.”

“Oh— right.” He rose from his seat, giving you a small, complicated smile. Something soft. Something… uncomfortable. “See you around.”

“Of course.”

“And… congratulations.”

“Thanks,” you said, smile stiff.

Jungkook leaned slightly toward you, brushing his hand over yours like a man deeply in love. You internally screamed in curses. Bogyum and Tsuki walked away, whispering to each other. Glancing back twice. Still obviously confused.

When they were out of earshot, Hoseok exploded.

“NO WAY,” he shouted, slamming the table before walking to yours. “NO WAY THAT JUST HAPPENED. WHAT WAS THAT? WHY WAS THAT? I’M— I’M SWEATING.”

Jimin wiped tears of laughter. “I can’t breathe. I literally can’t breathe.”

Taehyung clasped his hands like he’d witnessed divine intervention. “I believe in romance again.”

You whipped toward Jungkook, pushing him away. “You motherfuck— What the hell was that?”

Jungkook casually grabbed the iced tea you weren’t drinking and took a sip. “That,” he said, “was me saving your life.”

“Saving? Saving?!” You jabbed a finger into his chest, yelling in whispers. “You just signed me up for a relationship I didn’t ask for!”

He shrugged, infuriatingly relaxed. “You lied first.”

“You didn’t have to join in!”

“You were drowning,” he said simply. “I wasn’t gonna let you flop in front of them like a dying fish. My girl is not a loser.”

“I was not flopping!” You groaned. “And I’m not a loser!.”

“So you’re my girl?” He smirked.

“You were absolutely flopping,” Hoseok confirmed.

“Big flop energy,” Jimin added.

Taehyung nodded solemnly. “I respect your flop.”

You ignored them all, glaring at Jungkook so hard the air should’ve caught fire.

“I will kill you,” you said slowly. “You’re crazy.”

He leaned down, lowering his voice just enough so only you could hear. “Takes one to know one.” You opened your mouth, ready to yell, strangle, insult, all of the above, but Jungkook placed a hand lightly on your wrist. “Walk with me,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I know that look,” he said calmly. “You’re about three seconds away from a meltdown.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.”

“Definitely are.”

“Major meltdown aura.”

You inhaled deeply through your nose, trying to control yourself. You gave the other members a middle finger. Jungkook nodded toward the hallway.

“Come on.”

You wanted to refuse. You wanted to declare independence from Jeon Jungkook’s stupidity and swagger.

But you also didn’t want to explode in front of half the company. So you stood, grabbed your phone, and stormed off. Jungkook followed, hands in pockets, too calm, too smug, too… himself. You didn’t stop until you two were in the quiet hallway, away from lingering staff, away from whispers, away from the after-meeting buzz.

Then you rounded on him.

“Okay, talk.” You demanded.” What was that for?”

Jungkook blinked once, like you were incredible stupid. “You said you were dating someone.”

“I was obviously lying!.”

“I obviously know.”

“So why pretend it’s you?!”

He shrugged. “Why not me?”

You threw your hands up. “Jungkook—.”

He stepped closer, not too close, just enough so you could actually look at him. He lowered his voice. “You were panicking,” he said softly. “They were cornering you. And you looked like you were about to combust. I helped.”

“That’s not helping. You’re doing this for your stupid bit—”

“You needed someone,” he said, cutting you off, now more firmer. “And I was there. That’s all.” Your throat tightened for reasons you refused to examine. Jungkook watched your face for a moment, analyzing. Eyes warm, steady, annoyingly beautiful and angry. Then he smiled, lopsided and knowing and infuriating. “Besides,” he added, “you could’ve said no.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You could’ve said, ‘No, not him. Anyone but him.’ But you didn’t.”

“I— that—” you stuttered. “I had no time to think!”

Jungkook smirked. “Mhm.” You punched his arm. He laughed. “Look,” he said, leaning back against the wall, casual again. “We can fix this. We’ll tell them it didn’t work out. Easy.”

Your heart sank… Because absolutely not.

Everyone would think you couldn’t maintain a relationship. And if you told Bogyum and Tsuki the truth… They’d think you lied out of jealousy. Out of desperation. Out of heartbreak. They’d think you couldn’t move on. That you couldn’t handle them being together. You pressed your lips together. Everyone would think that.

Jungkook saw your hesitation. His head tilted slightly. You groaned in frustration. “Well, of course now I can’t!”

“You want to keep it,” he said quietly.

“Are you stupid? Everyone would think I can’t keep a relationship. And if I told anyone I was lying I would look pathetic.” You swallowed. “So pathetic.”

“You wouldn’t,” he said.

“Of course I would. Everyone already thinks I’m a jealous bitch I haven’t move on…”

“Well—”

“I have move on!,” you exclaimed again, he snorted. “And also, if anyone finds out you are dating someone, specially my boss, I’m gonna get fired… or worse! It’ll get leaked and I would be haunted by your fans for eternity.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s my life. I can date whoever I want.”

“Fake dating.”

“Whatever you want.”

“And not, you can’t because if this leaks and I have your fans stalking me I would literally commit suicide.”

“It won’t happen,” Jungkook reassured you this time. Sensing your panicking. “Everyone is under a contract here. Nobody will say anything.” He shrugged. “Besides, it would be just for a while. Right?.”

You exhaled, looking at him.

Jeon jungkook. Annoying and so damn obnoxious Jeon Jungkook. The person who also saved your pride and ego. The man who was helping you. You didn’t know exactly if this was for his bit of being “in love” with you or if he was just being a good friend.

Honestly, you didn’t care that much which option was. You knew you needed his help anyway after what had happened.

But… God, he was so annoying.

“Shit,” you exhaled with frustration.

You could think of the three thousand reasons why you didn’t want his help. And only one reason for why actually you need it.

Oh, your damn pride.

Jungkook paused, looking at you losing your mind in silence. He didn’t let you go on more. “Okay, I’m in.”

You stared. “In… what?”

He smiled. “I’ll be your boyfriend.” You opened your mouth to argue but nothing came out. Jungkook added, with a shrug: “Fake one, obviously. Unless—”

“Stop.”

He laughed softly. “Okay. Fake.”

You dragged your hands down your face. “This is insane.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But weirdly fun.”

You glared. “This isn’t fun.”

Jungkook reached a hand out, offering it like a pact. “You want to do this or not?”

Your heart sprinted. Your brain malfunctioned. Your pride screamed no. Absolutely not. You stared at his hand for a long moment. And then, with the worst idea you’d had in a long list of terrible ideas, you took it.

“Fine,” you said. “But you follow my rules.”

Jungkook grinned. “Baby, I love when you pretend you’re in charge.”

You shoved him and he laughed again.

And just like that, completely unintentionally, fully unplanned, and with a man who lived for making your life incredibly annoying… you got yourself a fake boyfriend.

And Jungkook… Well, he took a chance.

a/n:

sooo new fic!! i wrote this back in september of 2025 while editing temporary fragments. just going back to my roots of editing my silly little fics while i write other things too >_<

i hope you enjoyed this intro/the idea of the story. ik this might be too long to be an intro but idc. this one is literally for shit and giggles so if i made u chuckle ill take it 🫦

also how the fuck do you guys make those fake chats ss? 😭 like i spent hours trying to find good app but i couldn’t/i have to pay like helpp

The kitchen was always the heart of your home, but tonight, it felt more like a professional studio. Jungkook moved with a rhythmic efficiency that you had grown to love and a natural grace that reminded you of the way he carried himself on stage. He wasn't just cooking, he was creating, his movements fluid and intentional as he balanced three different pans at once.

He looked effortless, even with the small beads of sweat forming on his brow. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, his sleeves rolled up to reveal the ink of his tattoos as he skillfully minced garlic with a sharpness that would have made a Michelin Star chef nod in approval.

You sat on a high stool at the kitchen island, nursing a glass of wine and watching him with undisguised admiration. It was a rare night where both of your schedules allowed for a pause, and he had insisted on taking over entirely.

"You know," you said, swirling the deep red liquid in your glass, "you’re making it very hard for me to contribute anything other than emotional support."

Jungkook looked over his shoulder, a playful, dimpled grin lighting up his face. He quickly wiped his hands on a towel and walked over, leaning against the counter in front of you. He smelled of sea salt, fresh herbs, and the faint, citrusy scent of the cologne he wore.

"Your support is the most important part of the recipe," he teased, his voice dropping into that smooth, melodic register that always made your heart skip. "Besides, you’ve been working hard all week. This is my way of helping you relax."

He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a gentleness that made your heart skip a beat. He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes dark and sincere.

"I need to check the reduction," he murmured reluctantly, pulling away with a lingering touch of his fingers against your jaw.

You watched him go back to the stove. He handled the heat and the timing with the same level of discipline he applied to his practice. He wasn't fumbling, he was masterfully bringing together an elaborate dish, adjusting seasonings with the confidence of someone who understood the chemistry of flavor and balance.

When he finally finished, the presentation was impeccable. It was something you’d expect from a high-end restaurant, not a quiet dinner for two. He carried the plates over to the dining table, where he had already lit a few candles, their soft glow catching the light in his focused eyes.

As you both ate, the conversation flowed from the mundane details of the week to deeper discussions about the dreams he was currently chasing. He was a great listener, rarely interrupting, his eyes constantly searching yours as if trying to gauge whether the meal was truly as good as he hoped.

"It’s perfect," you told him after the first bite, meeting his expectant gaze.

Jungkook visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping from their high, tense position. He chuckled, a genuine, hearty sound that filled the room. "I was worried. I spent three hours prepping the base, and I wanted it to be just right for you."

"Jungkook, you could serve me toast and I’d be happy," you said truthfully, reaching across the table to cover his hand with yours.

He flipped his hand over, interlacing his fingers with yours, his grip firm and reassuring. "I know. But I don't want to give you just anything. I want to give you my best, even on the quiet nights."

After dinner, he insisted on cleaning up, refusing to let you touch a single plate. While he moved around the kitchen, humming a soft, rhythmic tune, you leaned against the doorframe, just watching him. He seemed so grounded, so entirely himself in this space. He was a man of infinite layers—the performer, the perfectionist, the athlete—but in these moments, he was simply the man who loved you and treated you with the utmost care.

When he finally finished, he walked over to you, pulling you into his arms. He didn't say anything, just held you close, his chin resting on top of your head. You could feel the warmth of him, the steady rhythm of his heart against your chest.

"I'm tired," he admitted into your hair, his voice muffled and heavy with a long-hidden exhaustion.

"Then let's go to sleep," you whispered, pulling back to look at him.

He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally, a slow, sweet kiss to your lips. It was a kiss that tasted of quiet promises and a long, peaceful night ahead.

"We need more nights like these," he whispered, his hands moving to your waist to pull you against him. "No work, no schedules. Just you and me. That’s all I need right now."

Jeon Jeongguk was the living, breathing epitome of hyperfixation — and right now, that hyperfixation had locked onto some random mobile game he’d discovered at 2 a.m. last night while you were trying to sleep.

You’re both sprawled on the massive low king bed in his master bedroom, the thick ibul comforter kicked halfway off because the man runs hot even in April. Late afternoon light filters through the automatic blinds he keeps forgetting to adjust, painting soft golden stripes across the room. His weird-practical house vibes are everywhere: guitars hanging neatly on one wall like trophies, the triple-monitor gaming rig humming quietly in the corner with cables that look like they lost a war, a mini-fridge stocked with banana milk right by the bed, and dumbbells chilling on the rug like permanent residents. The air smells faintly of the doenjang jjigae you made for lunch earlier — proper Korean comfort food with a side of rice and kimchi that you both demolished while he rambled about the same damn game.

You’re in your normal pink cotton pajama set (the comfy shorts and loose tank with tiny hearts), legs tangled with his. He’s shirtless again, post-military chest all warm and solid, new LA tattoos catching the light every time he gestures wildly. His bedhair from this morning has settled into something softer — fluffy black strands falling over his forehead, making him look ridiculously cuddly.

You lean in for the third time, lips brushing his jaw, trying to steal a proper kiss. “Guk…”

“—and then the boss has this shield mechanic, jagi, wait wait, look—” He pulls back just enough to lock eyes with you, big doe eyes sparkling with pure excitement, completely missing (or ignoring) your attempt. His hands cup your face gently, thumbs stroking your cheeks like he’s making sure you’re paying attention. “You have to time the dodge perfectly or the whole party wipes. I stayed up till four practicing it. It’s so satisfying when you get the timing right, you know?”

You laugh softly against his mouth, tilting your head to try and capture his lips anyway. He’s so soft right now — cheeks a little flushed, that silly concentrated expression he gets when he’s deep in explanation mode. ADHD brain in full throttle, making him need the eye contact to feel like he’s really connecting. You love it. You love him like this: not the cool idol, just your clingy, silly Jeongguk who can’t shut up about his new obsession.

“Mmm, sounds cool,” you murmur, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. He kisses back for half a second — soft, warm, a little distracted — before he pulls away again, still holding your face, eyes wide and earnest.

“No, but seriously—” He’s trying so hard to stay focused on you, brows furrowing cutely as you lean in again, this time aiming for his neck. “The graphics are insane for a mobile game. The character designs? Chef’s kiss. I made this one build that— ya, stop that—” He chuckles when your lips find the spot under his ear, but he doesn’t stop talking. “I made this build that one-shots the mini-boss in under thirty seconds. Wanna see the replay? I saved it on my phone—”

You’re giggling now, climbing half on top of him, hands sliding over his bare shoulders as you try to shut him up with a real kiss. “Jeongguk. Baby. I’m trying to make out with you here.”

“I know, I know—” He finally meets you halfway, lips soft and plush against yours for a sweet, lingering moment. His hand slides to the back of your neck, thumb brushing your skin tenderly. For two glorious seconds he’s all in — warm, gentle. Then he breaks it with a tiny gasp, eyes flying open again, still so close your noses brush.

“But listen, the best part—” He’s whispering now, voice all excited and hushed like he’s sharing state secrets, forehead resting against yours so he can keep the eye contact. “There’s this limited-time event where if you log in every day you get exclusive skins. I already got the black cat one, it matches my tattoos, jagi, look—” He fumbles for his phone on the nightstand without letting you go, still trying to kiss you back while unlocking it one-handed.

You groan dramatically, burying your face in his neck. “Fucking hell, Jeongguk! You’re impossible.”

He laughs — that bright, silly laugh that makes his whole chest shake under you — and wraps both arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I’m multitasking! Kissing and explaining. See? Best boyfriend ever.” His lips find your temple, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth again, all while he keeps talking in that soft, rapid-fire way. “Okay okay, one more thing and then I’ll shut up, promise. The soundtrack slaps too. It’s like lo-fi beats mixed with— mmm—”

You finally succeed, cupping his face and kissing him properly, deep and slow, cutting off whatever nerdy detail was coming next. He melts into it with a happy little hum, hands sliding under your tank top to rest warm on your lower back — deep pressure, the kind he craves after being away so long.

But the second you pull back for air, his eyes light up again, soft and sparkling.

“…mixed with epic orchestra. Wanna hear it? I can play it right now—”

You drop your forehead to his chest, laughing helplessly. “Guk, I swear on every fucking soju bottle I've ever drank…”

He grins, all teeth and zero shame, bedhair fluffing up as he tilts his head to look at you again, still holding you close. “What? I missed you for three months, jagiya. Now I get to talk your ear off and kiss you at the same time. Best of both worlds.”

You stare at him for half a second, then smack his bare chest with the flat of your hand — not hard, but loud enough to make the sound echo in the bedroom. “You absolute fucking menace, Jeongguk. I’m literally trying to suck your face off and you’re giving me a goddamn TED Talk on mobile game soundtracks. What the hell is wrong with your brain?”

He bursts out laughing, that bright, raspy laugh that always hits different when he’s shirtless and half-hard against your thigh. “Ow—ya! That hurt, you violent woman.” His eyes are still sparkling with that hyperfixated glow, but now there’s a wicked little smirk creeping in.

Before you can smack him again, he flips you. Manhandles you like you weigh nothing rolling you under him so fast your pink pajama tank rides up. His hips pin yours, one big hand grabbing both your wrists and pressing them above your head into the messy ibul. He’s grinning down at you, bedhair wild, new LA ink shifting with every breath.

“Say that again,” he teases, leaning in close enough that his nose brushes yours. “I dare you.”

“Jeon Jeongguk, you horse-snoring, game-obsessed little shit—” You’re laughing even as you curse him out, knees trying to shove him off, but he’s too heavy, too warm, too fucking strong.

He dips down and bites your neck — not hard, just enough to make you squirm — then pulls back with the most dramatic, porn-star moan you’ve ever heard in your life. “Ahhh— fuck yes, keep going baby, it’s working~” He says it in this fake deep, breathy voice, eyes squeezed shut like he’s filming a bad BL scene, hips doing this ridiculous exaggerated roll that’s more comedy than seduction.

You stare at him for a second, completely deadpan, then roll your eyes so hard it hurts. “Get off me, you weirdo—!”

He cracks up instantly, collapsing half on top of you, laughing into your shoulder. You shove at his chest again, trying to get some space, but the movement shifts something in your stomach from all the laughing and the earlier kimchi fried rice. Before you can stop it, a loud, ungraceful fart rips out — right against his thigh.

The sound is unmistakable. Proud. Very Korean-home-cooked-meal energy.

Jeongguk freezes for half a second… then absolutely loses it. He cackles like a fucking hyena, rolling off you onto his back, hands clutching his stomach as he wheezes. “Holy shit—, what the fuck was that?!”

Your face burns but you’re laughing too, kicking at his leg. “Shut the hell up, it’s your fault for making me laugh so hard, you idiot!”

He’s still howling, tears in his eyes, pointing at you like you just told the funniest joke in existence. “That sounded like a damn truck backing up! Babe, I think the rice cooker heard that one.”

“Ya, Jeon Jeongguk!” You slap his arm, half embarrassed, half cracking up with him. “I hate you. Get off me, you horse.”

He’s still giggling like a maniac when he suddenly sits up, the play-fight energy flipping in that classic Jeongguk way — hyperfixation brain doing a 180. “Wait, wait— truce. That fart killed the vibe. I need a drink now.”

You push your messy hair out of your face, still flushed and grinning. Your cheeks are burning hot, hair sticking to your forehead from all the rolling around, pink pajama tank twisted up under your boobs and shorts riding high on your thighs. Jeongguk looks just as wrecked — shirtless, chest and neck flushed a deep pink, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, that ridiculous bedhair now completely chaotic like he stuck his finger in a socket. His eyes are bright, a little glassy from laughing so hard, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his collarbones.

“Finally,” you say, still breathless. “Soju. Peach one. Cold. Right now.”

Jeongguk hops off the bed first, offering you a hand like a gentleman who definitely just got crop-dusted. You take it and slide off after him, both of you padding barefoot out of the master bedroom and down the hallway toward the open kitchen. The house feels warm and lived-in in the morning light — wooden floors cool under your feet, the faint smell of last night’s kimchi still lingering in the air.

You hop up onto the kitchen island, legs swinging, while he opens the fridge and pulls out the peach soju like it’s medicine. He sets two small glasses on the counter, twisting the cap off with his teeth because he’s extra like that.

You watch him pour, the cold liquid glugging, and suddenly your therapist brain kicks in. “Ya, Jeongguk… it’s literally ten in the morning. We can’t just start drinking like this.”

He pauses mid-pour, shoulders dropping a little. The playful grin falters into something softer, almost guilty. His big doe eyes flick up to yours, flushed cheeks still pink, looking suddenly cute and sheepish like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Shit… you’re right. I didn’t even think about the time.” He rubs the back of his neck, voice quieter.

You watch him and feel that familiar click in your chest — the one that happens when your psychologist brain kicks in even when you’re half-naked on the kitchen island in pink pajama shorts.

He’s doing that thing again. The sudden switch. One second he’s cackling like a lunatic over your fart, manhandling you across the bed, moaning like a porn reject just to be annoying… and the next he’s pulling back, eyes going all soft and guilty because you mentioned the time. You know what this is. Since he dropped the vaping and smoking cold turkey after the military, his nervous system has been running without its old buffers. The ADHD wiring that usually lets him hyperfixate happily on games or music now sometimes spins the volume up too loud in his head.

He’s not saying it, but you see it in the way his shoulders hunch, in how quickly the playful energy drops when reality taps him. He’s trying so hard to be “normal” Jeongguk at home, the one who doesn’t need crutches, but the anxiety is leaking through in these tiny, guilty pauses.

You sigh, dramatic but fond, and reach over to flick his forehead gently. “Ya.”

He blinks, still sheepish, the corners of his mouth twitching like he wants to smile but isn’t sure if he’s allowed.

You grab the glass he already poured anyway. “Fine. One shot. Just one. Because we're adults and we can have this.”

His face lights up instantly — that bright, relieved smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. The guilt melts off him like it was never there. He leans across the kitchen island and presses a quick, clumsy kiss to your lips, tasting faintly like the peach soju that’s about to go down.

You clink your glass against his a little too hard. “To you.”

Jeongguk laughs, soft and warm this time, and downs the shot with you. The cold burn slides down nicely, spreading familiar warmth in your chest. You’re both still flushed — cheeks pink, skin warm from the wrestling and laughing — sitting there in the quiet morning light of his big house, the rice cooker humming softly in the background like nothing weird just happened.

You love to live your life like this.