#jinkosolar

             Jungkook is not ignoring you.  He knows he probably shouldn’t be there, but no one told him not to, and he apparently only knows how to take commands and can’t do any thinking for himself, so there he is.  He gives you space because he knows you need it, or at least want it, and every second is torture because he wants to ask how you are, wants to apologize, wants to explain, wants to hear you yell at him or something.  Anything.  He is not ignoring you, because it is impossible to not think about you.  He lies in bed at night unable to sleep, something he hasn’t really struggled with in the past couple of years except sporadically after a particularly brutal job.  He thought after Seokjin told everyone things would be easier and simpler. More peaceful.  Instead everything has gone to shit.  And he’s not sure who he’s mad at more, himself or Seokjin.  He has to blame someone.  He just knows he doesn’t blame you.  He doesn’t blame you at all for running off.  After all, he had told you to do just that.

             You had planned in the beginning of August to be moved into your apartment and living on your own for the first time in over a year.  After things failed to go as planned, you had either been sleeping in a room full of other broken, exhausted girls or sharing Seokjin’s apartment or lying next to Jungkook at night.  Now, almost two months later, you were trying to sleep in the closest, most decent looking hotel Wonwoo had found.

           You didn’t sleep.

           The weekend took too long to pass.  You looked at your books and took notes and retained nothing.  You ignored the texts from Seokjin and Jungkook and Jimin and some other number you didn’t recognize.  You called the apartment building you had paid a deposit in, trying to find out if your place had been given away already, only to find you could say nothing and were hung up on after a few seconds of the business manager growing angry.

           And then Monday came and you found yourself figuring out the bus system in order to get to class on time.  You arrived extremely early as you had been afraid of being late, so you couldn’t miss when Jungkook came in.  He looked like such a typical college student in jeans and an oversized hoodie with a backpack on that you almost missed him, but once he sat down on the opposite of the room as you, you couldn’t help but notice him.  You couldn’t miss the fact that no one set by you.  Or how they all looked at you.  At how Jungkook didn’t.  You weren’t sure what game he was playing, so you didn’t play along.

             Jungkook didn’t know what game he was playing.  Seeing Y/N everyday only to never hear from her was torture.  It didn’t help that Seokjin had gone radio silent, too.  Though he supposes he can’t really blame the man for that.  By Wednesday he tried going to his apartment and asking Wonwoo where he had taken the girl, and boy, had the punk enjoyed that.  Jungkook had not begged, because Wonwoo, despite what he had done to help, still did not deserve his respect.  The boy had yielded up no information and had only smirked once. He almost looked apologetic, but Jungkook couldn’t trust how the boy looked.  He wouldn’t even admit if he was still helping Y/N.  At the end of the day, Jungkook thinks that’s all that really matters.  That someone is looking after you.

             You don’t need anyone looking after you.  Not really.  You are a fully-grown adult.  You are intelligent.  You are capable and willing, a hard worker, semi-clean, and a joy to be around.  But being temporarily mute, as you know, has its downside.  You have to write a long explanation to take to the apartment place in person one day, only to have them stare at you oddly before letting you know that, yes, the apartment is already full, and, no, you can not get your deposit back.  You’re back to mainly writing e-mails and texts to communicate with people, and thankfully Dr. Klein doesn’t seem to mind, even if Brennan and Price still seem to think you’re faking everything to get some sort of special treatment.  You’re quiet in class, though you often write questions down when there is a discussion to go over with the respected teacher later should you feel the need.  You struggle with replacing your credit cards as they require you to call over the phone or see them in person, both of which are impossible in your current state.  You have no cash but what Wonwoo had offered you the day he dropped you off, and you been too distracted to even question where it came from or how long he booked the room for or how it was being paid for.  You don’t need anyone to look after you.  It’s what you tell yourself every day, but you feel like a pathetic liar as your nights often turn into crying.  You feel helpless and hopeless and hate admitting that you have no idea how to do everything life is currently throwing at you.

           Friday, your body perhaps knowing you have no classes, finds you unable to get out of bed.  You haven’t eaten since breakfast the previous day, complimentary of the hotel, and you will yourself to get up for another one before it’s too late.  Your steps are more shuffles than anything else, and you don’t even care to be polite and raise your head to the lady at the desk or the waitress who brings you a glass of water and then leaves you alone, perhaps recognizing you by now or noticing your morning sullenness.  You don’t just feel sullen, though.  The exhaustion that has always come from when you slip back into an inability to talk feels a thousand times worse this time around.  Your heart feels like it’s been smashed into pieces like it did the day you left Brycen, only the pain is doubled this time around.  School has been draining to the point where every day feels like you have been taking a final and failing despite how hard you have studied.  And even though the hotel bed is comfortable like only a hotel bed can be, you have hardly been sleeping, and sleeping alone has been harder than you ever remember it being, an ache in your heart and a chill to your limbs that you can’t seem to combat.  In short, you feel like you got run over by a truck and were left there all day, sentient enough to feel every care running over you on a busy highway.

           “You don’t look so good,” Wonwoo says bluntly, popping down beside you and digging into a plate full of eggs.  Knowing who it is, you don’t even bother to look up or respond, poking absentmindedly at your own much sparser plate of food.  “Still no talking, huh?” he says after a moment, and you at least nod your head. “Huh.  Well, Seungkwan sends his regards.  Says he misses you.  All that blah.”  You look up to ask about Seokjin but stop yourself.  Wonwoo seems to notice your head moving, though, even as he continues to eat.  “So, remember my aunt?  Tiny lady about your size?” he says, putting his hand out by his shoulder for good measure, and you nod.  “Well, she needs a new tenant, if you’d like to live somewhere a little more permanently. Granted, it’s a tiny place, like as big as this table, and you can barely turn around in the bathroom, but it would be your own place.  She also, as you know, is a mean cook, and she would love to try to fatten you up just for the heck of it.”  You blink at your plate of eggs before frowning, pulling your phone out to type a message to slide across at him.  Don’t have a job.

          “Oh, yeah, no problem, I can pay her.  You’ll get back to talking again someday, right? You can get a job then and pay for yourself.  Or whatever you want to do.  Seokjin will pay, if you ask, or, want him to.  I bet Kookie even would, if you can get a hold of him.”  Your brow furrows at the comment, and you feel a spark of disgust and anger even though it’s really just a mask for your helplessness at his offer. Don’t want your blood money.  Wonwoo laughs, although it sounds a little bitter, at your phone before folding his hands together on the table.

          “Blood money is given when someone in your family has been killed.  If you mean you don’t want to be associated with mafia money, then it’s too late for that. I’ve been paying for your hotel all week.”  You can only glare at him even if you know you would have been on the streets or somewhere worse if he hadn’t.  “Look,” he says, leaning back in his chair and staring at you for a moment.  “I get your hesitation.  But Seokjin was telling the truth the other day.  He’s really backing down.  I mean, most people don’t believe him, but I do.  He’s got a ginormous entertainment industry to run. And even such a famous CEO would hire bodyguards, so you can just know that my money is, I don’t know what you want me to call it, clean?  Safe? It came from honest, hard work.” Wonwoo laughs, leaning back toward the table and smiling at you.  “Well, I’m sure Seungkwan would disagree that I work hard.  But you get it.”  You still stare at him, feeling uneasy, and he lowers his voice, his smile vanishing. “I’ve never killed anyone,” he says, surprisingly easily.  “Unlike your Kookie and Seokjin.  Remember? Seokjin never trusted me with such jobs. Well, at least that’s what I thought. Apparently I was never give the whole story.”  The boy sighs and actually looks sheepish for a moment, making you stare at him until he looks back.  “Look, we talked, and, well, I admit I was a little harsh.  Can you blame me?  I mean, my dad died working for his.  And our family, I mean, sure, we were taken care of,” Wonwoo laughs hollowing again, pointing a quick finger at you.  “Blood money, you could say.  Anyway, I’ve never really wanted for anything, except maybe more freedom to make my own stupid mistakes, but I thought the Kims would, I don’t know, reward me or something just because my dad did his job.  He signed up for it, you know?  And I expected to be given a position without working for it, which, I know now was dumb.  Is dumb. And I thought Seokjin, when he took over, couldn’t trust me because my dad died on the job.  But really,” Wonwoo says, sighing again and tapping his fork against his plate, “apparently he felt so bad about my dad dying he didn’t want the same thing to happen to me.  So he kept me doing jobs he thought were safer.  So, like I said, my money comes from honest work.  Or, now it does.  Or whatever. Look, Seokjin has always tried to do good.  He helps a lot of charities and shit, I don’t know.  He means well.  And you really can’t hold this against him forever.  He took good care of you, didn’t he?  And he wants to still, or, again.  At least give him the chance to make it right and explain.  Just talk to him.”  Wonwoo pauses, perhaps regretting his word choice, but he nods his head once and stands up.  He drums his fingers on the back of his chair for a second before slamming his palm down once.  “Damnit, Kookie, too, okay?  He keeps bugging me about how you’re doing, so if you could just talk to him, that’d be great.  Also, respond to my texts sometimes so I know you’re not dead if that’s not too difficult? And let me know about the room? My aunt only knows Korean, so I’m sure your lack of talking won’t matter at all when it comes to communicating. Okay,” Wonwoo says, finally finished, nodding again before waving and walking off.  

          When the unknown number texts you again later that day, you add Wonwoo to your contacts as Grumpy?

          You spend one more night in the hotel before texting him that you’d like to see the room.

            His apartment has never felt big, mainly because he knows it isn’t.  One bedroom, a small living room and kitchen, and a tinier bathroom.  It was never meant for two people, really, but it had always been enough for him.  Now, he stands looking around at the brick wall and his computer desk and wonders if he could fit somewhere smaller.  If he should. He doesn’t have to move.  Seokjin made that clear, and he has spent so little of the money he’s received over the past two years that he could not work for years and still be able to live sufficiently.

          Not working is something he is definitely not used to.  It’s probably the one reason he thinks about moving to begin with; just an antsy thought when he can’t seem to settle down one day.  He wastes time playing games, glad at first to have more hours to do so, but they soon grow stale and pointless.  He switches to spending hours sweating in the gym which is certainly good for him and helps release a lot of tension, but it only adds to the odd feeling of exhaustion he has.  And he tells himself he misses the routine and the purpose, not Seokjin specifically, but by the end of the week he doesn’t know what to think.

          It had been so easy, telling Seokjin he wanted to quit mere minutes after Y/N disappeared with Wonwoo.  No one had said anything.  No one had tried to stop him.  To persuade him he was making a mistake and didn’t mean it.  No one bothered to convenience him he was just being emotional and would regret his decision.  No one warned him two years ago, either, though, so he supposes he only has himself to blame.  Still, he wishes that Seokjin would have said something, anything to convince him that he was actually wanted.  Needed. Instead, his boss, no, Seokjin, had given in so easily Jungkook knew something was wrong.  He’s always been on the lookout ever since he started working for the man, though at first he never even knew what he was watching for.  He feels that way again, glancing around excessively everywhere he goes, half expecting Seokjin to have been lying about it being okay that he just wanted to walk away or lying about himself walking away from the work so easily and to sudden send someone after him because he knows too much.  He’d probably send Wonwoo, so it’s his mop of black hair Jungkook anticipates the most. Still, despite his heightened concern, nothing suspicious happens all week.  He’s sure he’s overreacting, but the radio silence from Seokjin unnerves him more than he expected.  

          It’s the silence from Y/N and the realization that he doesn’t have any friends outside of people Seokjin knows, if they were ever his friends to begin with, that makes him start to hate himself and everyone he comes across.  He sits across from Y/N in class because while it’s obvious she doesn’t want him there, she hasn’t said or typed anything and the professors haven’t, either, so he tells himself it’s safe enough to at least share the same air as her.  The two to three hours he sees her four days a week ground him during the time but leave him reeling the moment class is over, a bitter taste in his mouth and a sinking feeling in his gut that send him to the gym to punch things over and over until he’s bleeding and unable to breathe.  It sends him running to his cave to sulk in private, his moodiness immature and pathetic but at least kept to himself and not hurting anyone else.  He finds himself unable to sleep at night, too, though instead of nightmares that have kept him up in the past he can’t even fall asleep to begin with.  He paces, then, wanders up and down his tiny apartment until its confines are too suffocating and he has to take to the streets, prowling like a true hooligan, jobless, friendless, pointless.  

           He walks by Nestor’s more than he would like to admit, half expecting to see a bunch of police lights and officers waiting to take him away.  He finds himself a little disappointed for some reason every time he walks home unscathed, uncaught, unwanted.  He hates to admit how right Y/N was.  He doesn’t know what to do without working for Seokjin, without having him around to tell him what to do, without trying to please him. He doesn’t know who he is on his own. So while he had tried, at first, to give you space by pretending to take notes during your classes, as the weeks pass by, he opening starts watching you, instead.  You never look his way, at least not intentionally, and you definitely look away whenever you notice how intently Jungkook is watching you. Jungkook can tell you look better after a few weeks, wondering where you’re staying and getting so much sleep, sleep that he finds so evasive.  You don’t look like you’re starving or struggling even though you still don’t talk in class.  He tries not to think if Wonwoo has anything to do with how well you look.  He can’t bring himself to be bitter or angry or even jealous, in the end.  He resents himself for ever hurting you in the first place, but he is glad, ultimately, to see that you are fine.

           That is the first thing that Jungkook learns while sitting across from you, watching you softly but steadily.  He deeply cares for you.  For people. He desires to put your happiness, others’ happiness, above his, so much so that he doesn’t even think of himself most of the time.  So the second thing he realizes about himself is that he misses working for Seokjin. Not doing dirty and dangerous jobs, but working for the man.  At the end of the day, Seokjin was a great boss who only ever told Jungkook to do things because he thought he could handle it.  It is Jungkook’s fault for never trying to defy him or letting him know he was uncomfortable with doing certain tasks.  He is fairly positive, if he had ever told Seokjin he didn’t want to hurt anyone, Seokjin would have understood and given him a different job.  But he never would have abandoned him, dumped him, left him. He let Jungkook quit without putting up a fight because it might have possibly been the first time since Jungkook officially started working for him that he contradicted him.  The realization comes late one night like everything else that has been hitting Jungkook and leaving him feel breathless and hopeless because he knows Seokjin will take him back, will give him a safe job, will want him back and yet still doubts it, doubts himself.  So it’s already November by the time he finds enough courage to do what he thinks is right and stands outside of Seokjin’s office building that he knows so well, no appointment and no plan for what to say in place.

           Except that he knows he misses you, too, and wants you back in his life, and while he wants to work for Seokjin, he wants to put you first.  He will choose you over Seokjin.  And he will tell Seokjin that.  He knows this much.

             Letting go has never been one of Seokjin’s strong suits.  He is well-aware of the fact.  Changes always bring strife and complications and trouble.  He isn’t proud of how long it has taken to try to turn his company into something purely legal and good.  He isn’t pleased with how parts of him seem to start itching to grip the handle of a gun or someone’s chin in his hands.  He isn’t impressed with how he looks out his window more than down at his desk.  He never let himself think that he enjoyed making someone bleed.  That was Taehyung.  His father. But as time passed, he looked at himself in the mirror more, staring at his eyes to find what he wanted to find; only goodness.  He couldn’t find it.  He did miss pressing someone’s face into the dirt, kicking someone begging to be spared, watching the way people jumped when he lifted a mere eyebrow.  He avoided the gym, afraid of giving in to what he was afraid to confirm, but it only led him to snapping at work more, almost always at Namjoon who certainly didn’t deserve it.  He could feel himself withdrawing from everyone and spent longer than necessary at the office, avoiding his empty apartment and using the excuse that was half true that he really did have tons of work to do.  He would change himself, however possible, into someone who didn’t enjoy violence.  He could change.  So he would.

           He didn’t question when Jimin started showing up for lunch, being shooed in by Namjoon and beginning conversation like he simply belonged.  He barely blinked at the boy because he was used to him.  He had plenty of other things on his mind, so he was only slightly annoyed weeks later when he realized what the boy was doing, sitting across from him laughing at something apparently hysterical Hoseok had said that morning before casually asking Seokjin how work was going.

           “I know what you’re doing,” Seokjin says, pointing his chopsticks at the boy in an attempt to gain control over the situation.

           “What am I doing?” Seokjin has always known Jimin is a professional at faking innocence, so he doesn’t fall for the boy’s coy act.

           “You’re trying to get me to talk.”

           “Oh, oh no,” Jimin says, gasping exaggeratedly and pressing a hand to his chest. “How dare I?  Don’t make me sound like one of your goons, Jin.  Talking is typically a thing friends do, which, yes, if I need remind you, we are, since no, I do not work for you and am not related to you and am not dating you,” the boy scrunches his nose at the idea playfully, “that only leaves being your friend.  If you don’t wish to talk to me, you could ask me to leave.”

           “That’s not what I mean,” Seokjin says slowly, putting his chopsticks down and sighing.  “Just say what you’ve been avoiding for weeks.”

           “I have not been avoiding,” Jimin says seriously now.  “I’ve been waiting for you to be ready to hear me.”  Seokjin raises an eyebrow.  “So you’ve seen through me, big deal,” the boy shrugs before plunging in.  “You know me well enough to know I love you as I love Tae.  You are family.  You also know I can not turn off, as someone once so kindly put it.  You know the boys tell me things.  You know Yoongi and Namjoon are worried about you.  Have been for years.  Apparently you haven’t been eating unless I show up, and we all know,” Jimin says, raising a finger to stop Seokjin from interrupting him, “how grumpy you get when you don’t eat.  Don’t be an idiot.  Yoongi has also mentioned you aren’t going to the gym.  We all know exercise is important, so unless you’re jacking off mercilessly at home or have suddenly reduced yourself to paying someone, which I know even you at your lowest wouldn’t do,” Jimin says sharply before Seokjin can contradict him, “then that could also explain your grumpiness.  It’s also clear you miss Jungkook.  We all think it was right to let him go, as that’s what he wanted, but stop acting like it didn’t bother you.  Either replace him or go try to hire him back.  You also miss Y/N, and you could just be a proper adult and try talking to her.  Or keep moping.”

           “She’s not mine,” Seokjin says glumly, and Jimin rolls his eyes.

           “We all know that.  She knows that.  I’m not Hoseok’s, either, and yet I am.  We belong to each other in the sense that we belong with each other.  If you think you belong with her, tell her.  She’s a grown woman who can decide for herself.  And, finally, stop beating yourself up about doing what you know was right.”

           “What?” Seokjin says, because he’s really not sure what Jimin is referring to.

           “You never liked the violence of the job, Jin,” Jimin says surprisingly softly. “Even Tae doesn’t enjoy the violence. It’s like you said.  You’re just used to it.  Were used to it.  You may miss it, but that doesn’t mean you miss it because it was violent.  You just need to replace it with something else.”

           “I do miss it,” Seokjin says firmly, but Jimin only tsks and shakes his head.

           “Trust me, as a psychologist, or, more importantly, as your friend.  You don’t miss the violence.  You miss the control.  The power. And you have that still, just minus the guns and blood.  You can be successful through persuasion, not threats, through hard work and good leadership, not intimidation.  You know this, Seokjin, because you said it yourself.  You have plenty to control here,” Jimin throws his arm around the room, “so just focus on that.  You were born to be a leader.  You just had some bad training along the way.  You have much to unlearn, but I know you can do it.  We all do.”

           “Isn’t that,” Seokjin says after a moment as Jimin goes back to his lunch, “bad, though?  To enjoy control and power over others?”

           “Well, if Hoseok was here, he would probably quote Spiderman, which is annoying but also true even if slightly cliché.  Great power brings great responsibility.  You don’t need to worry, Seokjin.  Sure, you have made mistakes, and you will again, but you take good care of your men, of your employees.  You saved me. You saved Y/N, too, and took good care of her.  You let Jungkook decide for himself about working for you.  You are a good man, Jin.  A great, powerful man.”

           “I’m a murderer,” Seokjin says, frowning.

           “You have killed people, yes.  Who did you kill?”

           “Murderers,” Seokjin says, clenching his jaw.  “Men who killed innocent bystanders and stole innocent girls and forced people on them.  People who taught children how to smuggle and sell drugs.  People who wouldn’t listen to reason and seemed to only respond to a gun in their face.”

           “I’ve heard it all,” Jimin says, still concentrating on his food.  “We could debate the ethics of killing such people, though I’m sure you’d get a better conversation out of Namjoon than me.  In short, I believe the means justify the end. You killed those men to protect or help others.  You did it for the right reason.  Again, you’re only a bad person, Seokjin, in as much as we all are.  But you’re not a murderer.”  Jimin seems to be done giving Seokjin his two cents, and the older man watches him eat for a minute before staring out the window as he has taken to doing recently.  He knows Jimin is finished, but it is still quiet for a while before the boy speaks again. “It’s a lot, Jin, to change all at once. Changing your mind, especially about yourself, is the most difficult thing of all.  If you’d like, I can refer you to someone.  I think it would be good to continue to work through this, to talk about it.”  Seokjin looks so quickly at the boy Jimin almost flinches, and Seokjin has to calm his face, a sure sign Jimin is right.  Old habits die hard.

           “I’d prefer talking to you,” Seokjin finally says, looking away.

           “Alright,” Jimin says, standing up to start clearing the table.

           “Y/N,” Seokjin says before Jimin leaves, “needs someone, too.  She.  Well, she told us what Nestor had done and then the next day found out who I am.  It was too much too quickly.  Do you think—could you go check on her?”

           “No,” Jimin says simply, so quickly Seokjin only blinks up at him, trying to process the single word.  Jimin is right; he doesn’t work for Seokjin, so he can’t tell him to go do it, even though he could easily pay him to do it.  “Because,” Jimin continues before Seokjin can reply, “she has my number. She could reach out anytime.  Or, if you ask her if she’d like to talk to me and she agrees, I gladly will.  I am not your messenger or errand boy, remember.  And Jungkook isn’t around to do that, now, either.  If you want to learn how to control your desire for power, start here.  Start at the bottom.  Talk to Y/N. It will get easier after that.”

           It is easier said than done, too, though, because even though Seokjin knows Jimin is right, he thinks about it for weeks, trying to ground himself in his work.  He works on not snapping at Namjoon, at listening and conversing with Jimin at lunch, at making sure he fixes and eats a good breakfast, at going to the gym. The last bit becomes harder than he expected.  His apartment has felt emptier since Y/N left, but his home has always been his quiet retreat, and the silence there isn’t too overwhelming.  He misses Jungkook at the gym, though.  Even though the boy hardly ever spoke to him when they worked out or sparred, he misses his quick smiles and how easily it was to tease him. He keeps thinking back to the moment Y/N walked out of his apartment with Wonwoo.  He had effectively just lost his job, and then he had quickly and easily lost her.  And then Jungkook had told him he wanted to quit.  He couldn’t even tell him how different things would be now.  He was so surprised at how adamant Jungkook was, how upset he was, how mad at him he was, that Seokjin had to let him go.  He had been waiting years, after all, for the boy to contradict him, for the boy to put his foot down, for the boy to finally take what he wanted.  He had watching him with Y/N closely enough to realize the pull he held over the boy had gotten extreme, was clearly too unhealthy.  He didn’t want that for himself or for Jungkook.  So of course he had let him walk out right after Y/N had. For all of his love of power, Seokjin was pretty powerless.

           He waited, then, until he felt like he couldn’t function without him before he decided to call the boy.

           It was November.  And Jungkook would have to wait, as someone had shown up without an appointment demanding to see him.  He would deal with whoever it was calmly, using a power he was trying to hone, one of persuasion and not intimidation.  He was getting better at it, he knew.  And Jimin agreed.  Everyone did. So he would send whoever it was away quickly so he could find Jungkook.  He needed to speak to Jungkook.

             “I need to speak to Kim Seokjin,” Jungkook says, planting his feet, his stance a little obnoxiously wide.  Being demanding and “pushy” isn’t his thing, but he tries to emulate Seokjin, tries to remember all the times he’s seen the man make people do something just by speaking as if he was using some freaky Jedi mind trick.  The lady at the desk, someone Jungkook doesn’t recognize, which makes him wonder how many people have been replaced in the office, doesn’t seem effected, though, and only looks at him, clearly unimpressed.  “Please?” he tries, but that only seems to make things worse.

           “Do you have an appointment?”

           “No, but I’m Jung—Kookie, I used to work for him.  I know he’ll want to see me.  If you’ll just let him know I’m here.”

           “He’s very busy,” the lady says, sounding bored.

           “I know, I’ll just wait here,” Jungkook says, gesturing toward one of the chairs by the desk before sitting down, crossing his legs and watching the lady who does not make any more toward calling anyone.  Jungkook wills himself not to get mad, even sends the lady a patient smile, which also doesn’t seem to work.  After a few futile attempts, he gives up and gets on his phone, losing track of time but knowing it’s passing by the draining of his battery.

           “Kookie?” a bright but surprised voice says, instantly recognizable, a smell of greasy noodles making Jungkook immediately perks up.

           “Jimin,” Jungkook says quickly, hopping up before slouching a little uncomfortably. He hasn’t seen the boy in over a month, but he looks the same.  He smiles widely at Jungkook, which eases his mind a little before holding up the bags of food he is carrying.

           “I’m just taking this up to Jin.  Care to join?”

           “Sure,” Jungkook nods.  His leg has fallen asleep and he almost trips, smiling awkwardly at the lady as they pass, pretty sure he hears her muttering something about him not having an appointment. Jimin, despite his usual chattiness, is quiet in the elevator, and while there a few faces Jungkook doesn’t recognize, everything is basically the same. The door to Seokjin’s office is certainly the same, and Jimin doesn’t even knock before he pushes it open.

           “Jimin,” Jungkook hears Seokjin’s voice from inside, his tone confused.  “I thought you weren’t coming by today.”

           “I said I was going to lunch with Hoseok, but I still brought you food! Also, someone to eat with,” Jimin says as he pushes his way through.  Jungkook falters at the door long enough for Seokjin to say,

           “I told you I didn’t want to speak to anyone else—” before he steps in, too. “Oh.  Koo—Jungkook.”  Jungkook hesitates, because it’s what he’s used to doing in front of the man, but his name makes him stutter, too.  But Seokjin smiles at him as he comes around his desk, and while it surprises him, the man walks all the way over to him and throws an arm around his shoulder to walk him toward the table Jimin is placing containers on.  “It’s good to see you!” he says, sounding genuine.  “I was just about to call you today.”

           “Wha—really?” Jungkook mumbles, already making a fool of himself.

           “Really,” Seokjin says, releasing him to sit on the ground near the table. Jungkook waits until Jimin waves him to do the same as he steps away, waving to the pair before leaving without a word.  “I owe you an apology,” Seokjin says, which Jungkook finds himself unable to respond to. He’s never heard his boss—Seokjin—apologize before, especially not to him.  “So many apologies, probably.  For not being clear with you from the start.  And for not letting you feel like you had a choice in matters.  I’d like to start over.  I’d like for you to come work for me, with me, again.  I need a personal trainer, if nothing else. Yoongi is worse than I remember him being,” Seokjin fake sighs, and Jungkook can’t help but laugh a little, imaging the sight.  “And I can drive, but I didn’t realize how lazy I am, and how much I hate it.  I know it’s not much, but I trust you, and you were good at your job.  I’d like you to come back, if you want.”

           “I’d like everything in writing,” Jungkook says slowly, grabbing a few pieces of meat out of a box while watching Seokjin do the same.  The man only nods.

           “Of course.  We can negotiate pay and benefits and time off.  Everything will be official and legal and clear.  I expect you to ask questions.  As many as you want.”

           “I can,” Jungkook starts before correcting himself wisely, “I will do my best.”

           “You always have,” Seokjin says, smiling up at him before taking a bite. Jungkook follows him, chewing quietly while trying to remember everything that he wanted to talk to the man about, as his offer had thrown him off so easily.  “Why did you come in today, by the way?  It was to see me?”

           “Yeah,” Jungkook nods, swallowing unnecessarily.  “I’ve had a lot of time to think.  And I know I have a lot to work on.  But.  I wanted. I liked working for you, sir—Seokjin. I’m not fit to sit around and do nothing.  I need the structure and routine.  And, I think, if we go about it differently this time, it could go really well. Better than last time.”

           “I agree,” Seokjin says, nodding as well as he reaches for another bite.

           “And.  And I wanted to discuss Y/N.”  Jungkook waits, watching as Seokjin continues eating.  Eventually the man looks up at him, as if expecting him to continue.  “She’s fine, sir, as long as I know.  She’s going to her classes, but she still isn’t talking.  And.  I miss her,” he rushes out, already embarrassed. “And I thought about it a lot, and I want to come work for you, but I’d rather have her.  Not that I can have her, really, but—”

           “You’ve been going to her classes still?” Seokjin asks, and Jungkook nods. “But not talking to her?”  A headshake.  “I see.  Well, she’s been staying with Wonwoo’s aunt and working in her restaurant for a while now,” Seokjin tells him, setting his utensils down to stare across the table.

           “Wha—oh,” Jungkook says, realizing how foolish he has been.  Of course the girl was talking to Seokjin.  Had probably gone back to him quickly.  He was the one who had saved her, after all, had protected her.  Jungkook only had because he was told to.  At least, initially.  At least, that’s probably what she still thinks.

           “Old habits die hard,” Seokjin says, “as do loyalties, it seems.  Wonwoo has been keeping me updated even though I didn’t ask him to.  It makes me a little uneasy, him doing so, like it’s an invasion of her privacy. But I also felt uneasy not knowing, if that makes any sense.”

           “Oh,” Jungkook mutters, feeling totally idiotic now.  Of course the girl wasn’t talking to Seokjin.  He had kept secrets, dangerous secrets from her.  He had scared her and let her go without trying to persuade her to stay.

           “Why do you feel like you can’t have both?” Seokjin says suddenly, making Jungkook sit in silence, not for the first time since they started talking and probably not the last, as he tries to rush through his thoughts to find an answer.

           “I just mean,” he finally settles on, “that I couldn’t work for you if you and she were together.  I know now that I am not strong enough to handle that.  I want to be with her.  If she’ll have me.  And I want to work for you.  But if I can’t have both, I’d rather have her.”

           “I see,” Seokjin says, leaning back from the table on his hands.  The look he gives Jungkook is one he’s seen before, and he looks away like he’s used to before looking back, trying not to look as intimidated as he feels.  “Well, like I said before, it’s whatever she wants.  And what you want.”

           “But you don’t?  Don’t you?” Jungkook struggles trying to find the right words, but Seokjin thankfully doesn’t tease him about it.

           “I feel a great need to protect and care for her, as I do for you, too,” Seokjin says simply, and Jungkook would be surprised or confused if he didn’t understand what the man meant.  “Even in the short time she was around, I grew to love her in my own way.  I’m sure it’s not how you think of her.  I don’t need her to be my girlfriend, for instance, though you might.  I wouldn’t mind sharing her, though you know that’s not how I mean it, though I think you might not like that.  I have, and will never, though, get any sort of enjoyment out of someone doing something for me or with me because they feel forced to.  I miss her, really, but I do not think as much as you do.  I don’t want—I know—I am not ready for a relationship like you might be,” Seokjin sighs, looking out his window.  “Old habits die hard, and I don’t think I can give Y/N what she needs right now.”  Jungkook sits, trying to process everything while Seokjin obviously thinks, too.  “But who knows what she needs,” Seokjin finally ends with, picking his utensils back up to keep eating even though the food is almost cold.

           “I’m not sure what to do, then,” Jungkook says after a moment, sighing.

           “Stick around for a bit if you can.  I’ll have Yoongi bring in some paper work for us to go over.  If not, then we can schedule a day for you to come back.”

           “No, I, no.  I’m free,” Jungkook says, and Seokjin nods.

           “And then I’d suggest talking to Y/N.  It’s what Jimin told me to do, and while he’s right most of the time, I think he’s wrong in this case.  Like I said, I don’t think I’m ready.  But you should talk to her.”  Jungkook looks over at his boss—Seokjin—his soon-to-be-new-boss-again, trying to see if the man is lying.  He doesn’t expect he would be able to tell, because even after working for him for two years he usually couldn’t.  The man still looks tired, though not as exhausted as when he had last seen him.  He seems worried, and Jungkook looks around the office, thinking about how many responsibilities he must have as a CEO.  He thinks that the burdens must be enough to keep the man busy.  Might be too many for him to carry alone.  But he has Namjoon, and Yoongi, and the others. And Jungkook can help again.  He’ll do whatever he can, within the boundaries they set together, to help the man he still respects and wants to please.  Part of him leaves the building hours later feeling relieved, like he accomplished what he went in to do.  But part of him is still confused and unsure.  The semester is almost over, and he knows he only has a few more opportunities to talk to Y/N.  But he waits until the last week of classes, because there is still a part of him that is waiting patiently for you to speak to him.  But he has waited so long, he is afraid he will wait forever to never hear you again.  And that is a silence he knows he can’t endure.

             Wonwoo, much to his excitement, is soon changed from Grumpy? to simply Wonwoo in your phone.  The boy is still moody sometimes, but overall you find him to be quite hilarious and full of surprisingly deep moments.  He is also much more helpful than he would like to admit.  All of his good qualities seemed to have come from his aunt, who is the human embodiment of nurturing, and while Wonwoo was right about not being able to understand a word she says, her smiles and pats and constant placement of food in front of you is enough to know she cares simply because she cares. Her letting you come and work in her kitchen even if it was just washing dishes until you showed your worth some other way is done out of the kindness of her heart.  Wonwoo doesn’t expect anything in return, either, and it is that that made you think about Seokjin and Jungkook day after day.  Seokjin, who had bought you but expected nothing until you were ready, and Jungkook, who kept showing up to class despite your continual avoidance of him.  They were humans, so you knew they expected something, as everyone does, and yet they had both always been careful enough to take care of you, first.  You let yourself practice something similar, then, for the next two months, taking care of yourself first and only.  Part of you felt bad, like you weren’t giving enough back to everyone around you, but Wonwoo just kept shrugging his shoulders when you shared your concern, and you finally decided he was right.  You were obligated to no one and under no pressure to do anything you hadn’t set before yourself.  So you concentrated on your school and help around the restaurant when you could as best as you could and made time to eat lunch with Wonwoo and sometimes Seungkwan simply because you enjoyed their company.

           But you kept thinking about Seokjin and Jungkook.  It was hard not to, as Jungkook kept showing up in class.  Even if in the past couple of weeks he wasn’t staring at you anymore and looked like he was finally sleeping again, he was still just there, a presence that you, when you finally allowed yourself to, realized you were comforted by.  Where once you had felt annoyance and like he was assuming you needed his help and protection, now you only felt peace and gratitude, even if you still never spoke. And Wonwoo would, regardless of what you were actually talking about, always bring up Seokjin.  You never asked, but you also never asked him to not tell you, so Wonwoo would ramble away about Seokjin and his business.  You couldn’t follow most of it, but you knew it was all about his work as a CEO in the entertainment business, nothing illegal or dangerous.  Wonwoo wasn’t as sly as he thought he was, either, because you knew what he was doing when he tried to casually drop hints about how Seokjin was personally.  How he looked sad and tired and distant.  The one positive update Wonwoo seemed to have was when he announced, without even scowling or sounding annoyed, that Jungkook had come back to work.  It was good to have an explanation for why the boy had started looking better in November.

           “He’s still coming to your classes, right?” Wonwoo says one night when the restaurant is technically closed.  You nod, enjoying a warm cup of tea as you pour over your notes from class.  “Are you ever going to talk to him again?”

           “Maybe,” you shrug.  “If he asks first.”

           “Huh,” Wonwoo says, clicking away on his phone enough for you to look up and throw a finger at him.

           “Don’t tell him that.  He can figure it out on his own.”

           “As if I’d play messenger for Kookie,” Wonwoo scoffs even though you know he doesn’t hold any bitterness toward the boy anymore.

           “Yeah, mind your own business,” you say, going back to your notes.

           You really should have been paying more attention.  Perhaps Wonwoo was slyer than you ever gave him credit for.  Or he simply cared more than you ever could have expected even after all the time you had spent together.

             “Y/N is waiting for you to talk to her,” Wonwoo says, not even looking up from his phone as he leans against the wall by the elevator.  Jungkook isn’t surprised there is a slight indention on the wall where the boy has worn the paint away with his heel.

           “What?” Jungkook says, his finger hovering by the elevator button to take him up to Seokjin’s for breakfast.  Wonwoo doesn’t look up and only shrugs.  Jungkook rolls his eyes and resists pushing the boy over, ignoring the grin Seungkwan has on his face.

           He’s been waiting for you to initiate conversation with him, and part of him wants to prove Wonwoo wrong, to walk up to you and have you reject him because Wonwoo is still out to get him.  And yet he knows, based on what Seokjin’s told him and from the small changes he’s seen in Wonwoo, that the boy has gotten close to her, and it’s feasible that he’s telling the truth, even though Jungkook doesn’t understand why the boy would tell him of all people.

           He’s not sure, then, since there’s not a clear flowchart in his head to help dictate his decisions, why he approaches you at the end of Dr. Klein’s class. It’s the last class of the semester in his class before their final, an excessively long paper Jungkook is glad he doesn’t have to write and feels sympathy for how long you will have to be up writing it over the next week, and Jungkook knows it’s your favorite class, so he is hoping you will be in a good mood.  You are smiling as you gather your things, even if only faintly, and he slings his backpack that is more of a prop than anything functional and hops over to you, trying not to tumble into a desk and scare you too much.

           “Hi,” Jungkook says, probably sounding as awkward as he feels as you look up him, your brows furrowed.  “I’m Jungkook.  I wanted to introduce myself so I wasn’t just ‘creepy guy who stares at me a lot.’ Sorry about that, by the way.  You just really remind me of someone I knew once.” You raise your eyebrows at that at least, and Jungkook tries not to smile.  “It was from another life.  So, it’s nice to officially meet you—” he trails off, waiting for you to introduce yourself, but you only blink at him for a moment before maneuvering your phone in your hands so you don’t drop you notebook and passing it over for him to see. Y/N.  “Oh, cool,” Jungkook says, handing it back politely and trying not to sink to the floor with his heart over the fact that you couldn’t just tell him out loud. “I, uh, don’t want to be rude, but can you talk?  Are you deaf?”  Jungkook knows it’s a stupid question, but you shake your head and almost smile, so he nods ecstatically.  “Cool, just don’t want to talk to me.  I get it. That’s fine.  Maybe I could give you my number in case you ever want to, though? Texting works.  Maybe we could meet up to discuss the final?”  Jungkook wills himself to meet your gaze, though it’s unnerving how much he can’t read it.  You blink at him a few times before handing your phone back to him, and he makes a little humming noise as he types away on it.  “Oh, weird,” he says after a few seconds, “I’m already in your phone. Huh.”  He hands it back, unable to hide a grin, and his heart does not summersault when you smile briefly back.  Even if you’re just laughing at him, he can’t complain.  “Okay, well, I’ll see you around, Y/N.”  He waves and turns away quickly, afraid of lingering and acting weirder than he knows he already is.  You watch him walk away, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face.

             Jungkook makes it easy on you, as you knew he would, and you promise to come have dinner with him once finals are over.  He spends the next week texting you excessively, even when you only reply when you have time to take a break.  He comes by the restaurant with Wonwoo at night which almost gives you a heart attack and talks as if everything is normal, even kicking Wonwoo under the table when the boy starts teasing too much.  He brings you food without waiting for permission and wishes you well. Multiple times you open your mouth to thank him, but instead you’re only able to smile.  It is fine to pretend, but it can only be temporary.  You will have to talk to him eventually if you want to continue seeing him.  Which you do. You miss Seokjin, too, you know, and listen closer when Wonwoo and even Jungkook mention him.  You work tirelessly to finish your papers on time, the days counting down for the end of the semester but also for something bigger.  You’ve spent a lot of time over the past couple of months researching Kim Seokjin and his company and his family in your spare time, and while you don’t know the details, and there could be plenty of reasons behind why only articles about how generous the family is seem to appear in the newspapers, the stories can’t be totally made up.  Your shock at finally hearing and accepting what Seokjin did for a living has worn off.  Your anger toward him and Jungkook has died away, too.  With each page you write you feel closer to freedom not only from school but also from the fear that has kept you back from simply moving on with your life.  Of making the decision you want to make.

           So you can’t help but feel relieved and grateful and excited but also terrified and nervous and worried when you ask Jungkook if Seokjin can come to dinner, too, and the boy readily and easily and whole-heartedly agrees.  

           In the end, you’re not sure why you were ever worried.  You knew, the first moment you had met Seokjin, the way that he had looked at you, and the first time you had met Jungkook, the way he had touched you, that you had nothing to fear.  That the only thing both of them felt for you was love, even if it manifested itself differently toward you from each of them, even if you would have to figure out what it looked like to reciprocate it back to them individually.

           “Y/N, I’d like to introduce you to my boss, Kim Seokjin,” Jungkook says, gesturing toward the tall man in front of you.  You can’t help but smile at the entire situation.  For one, you feel relieved by the idea of starting over, of pretending like everything is a clean slate.  Your finals are over, and you feel like you can breathe again, even more so as Jungkook takes your hand.  Jungkook’s overall sweetness, too, and his obvious ease, plus an excitement and eagerness to everything he does that you hadn’t noticed before, is infectious. And Seokjin is has handsome as you remember him being, plus the smile he gives you makes you melt just a little, but you hang onto Jungkook’s hand even as you put your other one out to Seokjin.

           “Pleasure to meet you,” Seokjin says, causing you to smile but also duck your head a little.

           “Y/N has a condition called temporary muteness,” Jungkook says, “but once she gets to know you and trusts you, she’ll be comfortable talking with you.  Did I get that right, Y/N?”

           “Yeah,” you say, laughing lightly, feeling your cheeks blush at the way Seokjin is looking at you.  He looks like he’s about to say something, but he closes his mouth, only to smile again. Jungkook is looking at you, too, with a look you’ve know now is one of patience and longing and fondness and love all rolled into one.

           “And I hope it happens soon,” he says, staring at you with a huge grin, “because her voice is beautiful.  You should hear her laugh, Jin, and sing.  It’s beautiful.”

           “Yeah, she is,” Seokin says, finally gesturing the two of you toward the table. He places a hand on your lower back easily, and you breathe freely, remembering the feeling of being anchored between the two of them.  Whatever the night holds, whatever the next week brings, whatever the three of you end up becoming, you know you’re going to be safe and protected and comfortable and free.  “Well, little one,” Seokjin says with one more smile, “I can’t wait to hear what you have to say.”

A/N:

Ugh, ending stories is so hard.  I’m always a little sad but also really proud.

Jimin backstory: In short, Jimin used to be a prostitute and was badly injured one night when Tae happened to be at the club.  He took him home to Seokjin, and the rest is history.

Tae backstory:  Tae, when he was younger, accidentally killed a man threatening his father.  He caused him a lot of trauma that he went to therapy for.  Seokjin mentions him and Jimin being different from Y/N in dealing with their tragedies.  Jimin was never quiet, Y/N was, Tae became explosive.  He has always been the more violent brother, arguably because of what happened to him when he was a teen.  Sorry to Tae for not exploring him more in this story.  But it wasn’t his story, in the end, so there we go.

The more I write Jungkook, the more I love him!

I know some people really wanted that Poly relationship!  When I started the story, my end game was actually Reader+Jungkook.  I knew Seokjin would be in there, but I wasn’t ever able to imagine Jungkook being okay with it.  The more I went, the more I realized there was this weird dynamic between Seokjin and Jungkook that wasn’t healthy that they both at least realize by the end.  In short, all three characters have more healing to do.  They’ve had their time alone to think and stew and contemplate and consider, and they’ve all come back to each other.  They’ll all be in each others’ lives, whatever that might look like in the end.  And I think that’s happy :)