jeon jungkook.

MIND GAMES — ongoing series. ⬞ esports!au, gamer!jungkook, teamleader!jungkook. ⬞ you will be playing under jungkook’s team as the only female player—and the ace—if it wasn’t for your sudden deterioration in skill. the tournament is around the corner, and jungkook isn’t the type to pass up a win.

VELOCITY — ongoing series. ⬞ carmechanic!jungkook, enemies to lovers!au. ⬞ you and your brother—min yoongi, happened to stay at jungkook’s temporarily until the car was fixed. just when you were about to praise jungkook for his generosity, you discover how much of a misfortune he is—or is he just some guy you hate?

PROTANOPIA — ongoing series. ⬞ vampire!jungkook, forced roommates!au, enemies to lovers!au. ⬞ you can’t handle your own instinct sometimes; day by day, you start to realise how strange that really nice guy at church is. jungkook is the kindest person you know, but everything goes wrong when you pinpoint details he didn't think he had.

HIT THE LINE — a one shot. ⬞ racer!jungkook, rivals!au.

(LOVE) YOU — a one shot. ⬞ player!jungkook, nevertheless!au.

kim taehyung.

CINEMATIC — a one shot. ⬞ photographer!taehyung, long lost lovers!au.

park jimin.

coming soon!

jung hoseok.

WHY DON’T WE? — a one shot. ⬞ dancer!hoseok, established relationship!au.

min yoongi.

FOR TONIGHT — a one shot. ⬞ idol!yoongi, ex lovers!au.

kim namjoon.

coming soon!

kim seokjin.

jungkook drops his gaze to dismiss extra tension. “so, can i assume you know what you’re doing?”

taehyung glances at the kit in his grip. “don’t worry.” he answers calmly. “i got it.”

“i’ll let namjoon know.” jungkook answers without sparing you a look of worry.

“easy.” 

from there, you and taehyung walk away.

the part of you hoping jungkook would stop and care for you just a tiny bit more is unsettling and heavy. it’s weighing each of the footsteps you take with taehyung.

journeying to a quieter place than the living room, taehyung navigates you to the theatre room beside the kitchen—and all you want to do is make a desperate u-turn.

memories with jungkook dance around your mind in reckless loops, and it’s only a matter of time before it starts tormenting you. it’s not worth it—he doesn’t deserve a place in your mind, especially when you’re not in his.

“let’s fix you up.” taehyung offers as he switches on the light in the room. 

“am i in the right hands?” you jest when you plop down onto the couch. you ignore the wave of recollection again by smiling smugly at taehyung’s side profile. “am i?”

“hm,” taehyung hums. “you be the judge of that.” he sets the box to your opposite side before grabbing a bottle of saline and some packed gauze.

“maybe… you should wash your hands first—” you attempt the moment he pours sterile liquid into the packet of gauze, soaking the content inside.

“oh—” taehyung blinks in realisation. such an innocent look coming from the visual god himself. “we were close to running in circles.” he emits a chuckle and follows your advice: he uses the pack in his hand for himself, using the damp gauze to wipe down his hands drowned in dried blood.

you helplessly smile as you observe him do so. “damn it,” you quip. “i would’ve loved to run a marathon with you.”

taehyung slips in a gaze. “would be nice,” he acknowledges. “didn’t you say you won a few races in primary school?”

tilting your head at the notice of detail, you try to make eye contact with taehyung who is focused on erasing your own blood on his hands. “you remember that?” you murmur, engrossed in the way he treats himself. the thin rings adorning his slender fingers are so dirty from your own blood.

the corner of your lips sink at the thought, and taehyung peers up to catch the transition of your guise upon finishing up.

your eyes meet his unexpectedly, making you startled. especially now that the room is entirely silent, it feels extra awkward due to what seems to be another episode of taehyung distinguishing your details.

taehyung pokes the sunken corner of your lip with his index finger. “is there more things to be upset about?”

his finger ends up feeling icy cold with the heat emanating from your cheeks. “your rings.” you answer softly, sounding apologetic despite being taken aback by his touch.

“what about them?” unbothered, taehyung asks. “don’t tell me you’re upset because of how pretty it looks.”

with eyes so curious of him and his nonchalance, you smile to play along with his joke. “i was meant to say they look pretty on you.”

“i guess i’m keeping them on now.” he raises a playful brow before grasping your wrist, hauling your arm closer towards his lap. your body naturally sways with his lead, encouraging you to take place beside him. “tell me if it stings.”

“please, if i can’t handle the pain of a small scratch—” you suck in a breath to contain your whimper the second taehyung dabs your hand with the gauze. “—i would not be here.” you exhale slowly.

you should not be here.

taehyung stifles a chuckle. “and you were saying?”

“nothing.” you huff out in embarrassment. “i was just wanting to thank you endlessly.”

“that’s one unique way of thanking me.”

“unique is a compliment.”

“i wouldn’t say anything but compliments to you.” taehyung places your hand on his thigh before tearing open a dressing that’s large enough to cover the cut in the middle of your palm.

“is that so?” you raise a playful brow. “really?”

“really!” taehyung plays along. “all done. make sure it doesn’t get infected, okay? just call out to me if you need help with anything.”

“you’ve done enough, taehyung.” you gleam. “i can’t possibly bother you for more.”

“i want you to.” he replies sincerely. in this moment, there isn’t an ounce of playfulness in his tone. when he looks at you, his gaze is brimmed with concern, also mixed in with a touch of yearning or… fear.

he… really does care for you.

“guys are the worst!” chaewon yells into your ear alongside an exaggerated groan. she extends both her arms to the sky, gnawing at the air in frustration. “they never say they like you or they care because they think it’s embarrassing. i hate a man’s ego with a deep passion. i don’t even know how you can hang around a bunch of guys for work!”

you suddenly remember chaewon’s remarkable wisdom.

“thank you so much.” you whisper gently. “right back at you.” 

days have passed since the anonymous threat you received. just when they’re probably sitting in bliss, thinking you’ve been missing out on days of practice leading up to the competition, you’re looking for options to show how fine you are. 

intentionally aiming for your dominant hand to disrupt your practice?

nuh uh.

during this time, you adjusted to gripping onto your mouse in a claw grip to relieve any pressure from your palm.

what a loser!

guess they’re not as smart as you.

“i’d rather kiss you than focus on a game.”

… “and with the terms and conditions we agreed to, there’s not much ahead for us.”

“let’s stay apart.” 

an empty sigh tumbles out of your mouth. because how—how is this your new reality? just how exactly is that possible when your team leader is literally him. distance isn’t exactly an option you can afford, no matter how loudly every part of you begs for it. 

the shame, the warmth creeping up your throat, the push and pull that never quite resolves—you can’t keep riding that wave. you know this. you’ve told yourself this countless times.

there’s literally a potential murderer after your throat right now.

(you called them a loser a couple of seconds, by the way).

shaking away the thoughts, you exhale confidently and clasp your hands together (with care). with one click, you press down on your mouse to find another match.

“go get some sunlight!” jimin swoops in out of nowhere. he snatches your mouse to stop the matchmaking. “you’ve been sitting here like a zombie. our team practice ended two hours ago.”

“hey!” you squeak, frantically trying to chase the mouse down in your seat. “give her back to me!”

“not happening.” jimin shoves your mouse into his back pocket.

you hold back a smirk. “jimin, you do realise we do have spare mouses in this house? probably on this level, in all sorts of brands?”

he gently taps your head in a way to make you behave. “i’m thinking of your health right now, so don’t try to squash my effort. we’re all thinking about you.”

“i…” you swallow down the urge to speak up.

maybe he’s right.

“okay, so i’ve been dismissed?” 

“dismissed!” jimin nods in satisfaction. “coach said we can have dinner outside tonight.”

“and?” you ask in anticipation.

“and what?”

“and what are we having?”

jimin thinks for a second. “i think… pork belly?” 

pork belly.

pork belly.

if pork belly was a man.

if pork belly was a person.

you would spend an eternal life loving them every second of the day.

you think pork belly is better than jeon jungkook.

“jungkook chose it!” 

you snort sarcastically. “didn’t think he was into those greasy type of foods. he looks like someone who’d enjoy being at a bland buffet rolling spaghetti in his fork.”

“he said it’s your favourite.” jimin says. “or is he wrong?”

you gulp in silence, now completely bothered with this knowledge. “he’s wrong. he’s so wrong.” 

“oh… really?” jimin taps his chin, gazing down to lock himself in thoughts. “he was so certain about it too.”

“i thought it was pork belly too.” taehyung comes down the stairs, hair still damp from the shower, chocolate brown strands clinging to his forehead and nearly brushing his eyes. when one falls too far, he reaches up and ruffles it back without thinking—and somehow that one careless gesture is undeniably attractive.

“from today, it’s not.” you force a smile at both taehyung and jimin.

“oh…” taehyung also pauses in thought at your unpredictable response. “should we go somewhere else then?”

you deserve to rot in hell.

there’s no time to be petty about a man.

you gulp in fear of losing your favourite food. “i’ll get ready!”

every single person showed up. of course they did, who could possibly refuse the free recharge of tasty protein? the grill crackles and spits, the smell of it rich and warm and almost enough to make you forget the day you’ve had.

almost.

the only thing you could possibly be complaining about is this stupid seating plan. of all the ways the universe could have arranged six people around a single grill—this is what it landed on.

destiny, apparently, has a terrible sense of humor.

you’re still carrying the ghost of this week’s humiliation somewhere beneath your ribs. in case god forgot, someone actually came for you. a real person, with a weapon sharp enough to leave a mark on your palm—and now you're supposed to sit here, smoke stinging your eyes, and simply be fine?

the least you deserved tonight was a merciful seat!

to your right is taehyung, then namjoon is to your left. 

you stare at the meat in anticipation, but from this point onwards, you either fixate your gaze to the grill or flick back to your sides as an escape. the moment you look up any higher, you’re most likely going to be engaging in a staring contest with jeon jungkook.

“alright, guys.” namjoon, equipped in thick rimmed glasses and a black turtleneck, pushes his glasses up his nose with one knuckle before raising his voice just enough to cut clean through the crackling of the grill. “i know things are a little tense right now because of the recent news. our precious team member got hurt while social media is still loud about jungkook’s livestream. we need to make sure the public doesn’t discover the fact that aeum is injured.”

“why?” seokjin asks in a deeper voice, matching the coach’s seriousness. he seems opposed to the idea. “if we don’t show them that we’re taking it seriously, they might reappear again.”

“i agree with seokjin.” yoongi agrees. 

“not happening.” jungkook rebuts. “it’s better if we take care of this silently.”

“he’s right.” taehyung acknowledges. “if this becomes public alongside the recent photos of jungkook and aeum, the attacker might even get some twisted supporters.”

“true.” jimin sighs out. “jungkook owns the most intense fanbase.”

in the meantime, the coach leans over and places a few pieces of meat onto your plate. “jungkook and i will take care of this.” namjoon reassures everyone. “i did anticipate something like this, the moment we decided to bring a female member onto the team.”

you sneak a piece of meat into your mouth while listening. “agreed.” you randomly chirp. everyone darts their eyes onto you, causing you to abruptly swallow the meat in your mouth. “what?”

yoongi shakes his head. “is it tasty?”

you nod slowly. 

namjoon smiles tenderly with his dimples blossoming on both cheeks. “don’t let this situation break your focus. we still need to remember that we have an important tournament coming up for us. a victorious win will set us apart from most teams out there.”

“i’d also like to sincerely apologise.” jungkook rises from his seat before anyone can stop him, dipping into a full ninety degree bow—earnest, unhesitating. “my actions have affected the team.” he straightens, and there’s something quiet and resolute sitting behind his eyes. “i’ll be more responsible from here on. more cautious.”

everyone’s eyes widen in surprise, too slow to react to the quiet weight of what jungkook just did.

“h–hey!” seokjin cuts in, still taken aback. “this isn’t your fault.”

“let’s eat.” jungkook dismisses sternly. “it’s on me.”

namjoon shakes his head in denial. “it’s on me.”

“we’re lucky to have such great leaders.” the corner of taehyung’s mouth pulls up first, slow and easy, before the full grin breaks through. “maybe they’re planning to take turns?” 

“so we’re coming back tomorrow?” you add quickly, riding the tail end of taehyung’s grin like you're both in on the same joke.

from there, the atmosphere lifted on its own. laughter came easy, soju passed around in small, unhurried sips, the grill still crackling between bites of meat. the boys fell into each other the way they always did—noisy and completely themselves, the kind of comfort that only existed when there were no screens to perform in front of, no pressure sitting heavy on their shoulders.

and jungkook—jungkook was smiling. not the polished, camera-ready kind. something smaller than that, and somehow more real. genuine enough that it caught you a little off guard.

you were glad the evening had ended up here.

“what was everyone’s first impression of aeum?” seokjin asks.

“i didn’t think she could play games.” yoongi confesses. “she looked overly confident.”

you raise your clenched fist. “i can still throw a punch with this hand.”

“she did look confident though!” jimin laughs, the memory catching him mid-sip. “i remember that.”

“and then she destroyed us,” yoongi adds, laughing with him.

“i thought she was pretty.” taehyung’s smile lingers, unhurried. “definitely.”

most of them—namjoon especially—visibly cringes, like that was information they could have lived their entire lives without. you don’t quite catch jungkook's reaction in time.

what you do catch, however, is the warmth crawling up your own neck, slow and uninvited, spreading to the tips of your ears before you can even think to stop it. something stirs low in your chest—restless, fluttering, the kind of feeling you’d been trying very hard to file away. 

you stare very intently at the meat on your plate.

"what happened to dating being prohibited?" seokjin is already shaking his head, rapid and dramatic like he’s personally offended by the cheesiness.

namjoon snorts—and then says absolutely nothing, which is somehow worse than any answer he could have given. he reaches for his soju and takes a sip that lasts a beat too long, adjusting his glasses once with some type of composure. 

“still valid?” jimin answers obviously.

“you guys are free to do whatever you want.” namjoon finally says, setting his glass down with a quiet finality, like he’s retiring a policy he himself had written. “just don’t slack on performance. please.”

wait. 

the laws have changed.

it’s legal now.

you can pursue romance again—no, you’re not!

namjoon swirls what’s left in his glass, almost to himself. “i didn’t actually think you guys would comply with that rule in the first place.” a small, self-deprecating laugh escapes him. “aren't you guys at that age anyway?”

a collective groan rises from the table—low and drawn out, the kind that carries years of weight in it. you almost laugh because you already know exactly what it means. these boys had poured everything into their careers and each other for so long that somewhere along the way, they had simply chosen it over everything else—quietly, without complaint, like it was never even a sacrifice to begin with. 

and maybe to them, it wasn’t.

for you, it wasn’t.

it almost felt effortless to you until recently.

your eyes drift to jungkook before you can stop them, because namjoon had just casually dismantled the very thing he once stood behind—the rule he had used, whether he meant it gently or not, to draw a clear line between you and himself. 

and now here namjoon was, snapping it clean in half over a barbecue grill like it was nothing.

you want to know if jungkook heard that the same way you did.

but then your pocket buzzes.

once. twice. and then it doesn't stop—a steady, relentless pulse against your thigh that you can’t talk yourself into ignoring. you shift in your seat, caught off guard, and reach for your phone.

you don’t usually get many notifications. you’d muted most of them a long time ago since most of your profiles are public and accommodated for your interaction with fans. the scene was loud and you had learned early on to keep it at a distance when it wasn’t necessary.

so the chain of messages vibrating through your phone, one after another, is already enough to make something uneasy settle in your chest before you’ve even looked at the screen.

you pull it out anyway.

@34742748392 : shared a video.

@34742748392 : shared a video.

@34742748392 : so you got permission to pick between your boys and be a slut?

with a breath trapped in your chest, your thumb hovers over the screen.

the username means nothing to you—a string of numbers, faceless, the kind of account that exists purely to not be found. but the messages themselves land like cold water, one after another, each one a little worse than the last.

and then the videos you’re not able to play.

@34742748392 : you’re not going to tell your fans about this

@34742748392 : we’re your money makers

@34742748392 : are you excited to keep it hidden behind our backs?

@34742748392 : shared a video.

your stomach drops.

they’re here. somewhere close enough to hear the crack of the grill, the laughter, namjoon’s voice carrying over the table. close enough to have caught all of it—the words, the jokes, the moment taehyung smiled and said something he probably should have kept to himself. all of it, recorded and sitting in someone’s hands like a weapon they hadn’t decided how to use yet.

your fingers tighten around your phone.

fuck.

you glance up at the table—at the guys, still warm and unbothered, jimin mid-laugh, seokjin reaching across for more meat, taehyung’s eyes catching the firelight. none of them know. not yet.

“hello?” rubbing your eyes, you whimper in fatigue as you press your phone against your ear. “um,” your eyes open at the silence. “please leave a voicemail if this is anything important—”

“it’s me.”

you swallow once at the familiarity; it feels like you’re swallowing a hundred needles, or splinters—or maybe even nails.

“sorry for the random call in the middle of the night.”

it’s him.

you remember breaking up with your first boyfriend—min yoongi. 

to others, he’s known as suga or agust d. 

there’s no end if anyone was to discuss his successes, yet someone like you happened to be his girlfriend behind the scenes.

you were desperate to forget about him—and efforts never tend to disappoint, so it’s only normal for yours to pay off as well.

it’s been years.

“were you asleep?” yoongi asks vaguely. back then, discerning his emotions was as easy as falling asleep in his arms. now you can’t actually tell if he’s apologetic, or maybe feeling guilty—there’s a chance he could be feeling as paranoid as you right now.

then again, why would he?

“why did you call?” you finally muster the will to ask. it only cost you a few painful swallows and a couple of shallow breaths.

and it’s dead quiet again.

“why are we breaking up?”

it was dead quiet then too.

you exhale shakily as you clench your blanket in your fists.

you’re in dire of a distraction—you didn’t know you still had any space in your heart to be hurt after being scratched countless times.

you can’t believe this is real—this blazing pain you can’t compare with anything else. 

why does pain like this still exist, and why is it related to yoongi again?

“i don’t know.” he just says.

he doesn’t even understand how fatal those words are to you; three simple words—three common words that possess the sick power to break you.

it’s every asshole’s evacuation and escape route. in the past, yoongi was anything but that, however time warps anyone.

“i’m hanging up if that’s all you have to say.”

“remember when you said to call when things get really hard?”

is he going through something?

last time you glanced at the internet and its headlines, you read that he’s preparing for a solo release before enlisting into the army.

that does sound like a harsh time for him, but you feel like he’s been through much worse—taking possible disbandment discussions as one, his early debut days as two, and his pre-debut shoulder injury and the story behind it as three.

“what’s wrong?” you can’t help to ask, you follow your heart more than your head—you always have; you haven’t changed.

“i…”

“did you have a drink?” you guess, only because he’s never the type to falter.

“i had a few shots of whiskey,” he confesses huskily. “it usually helps, but tonight it’s not doing shit.” you can hear his empty, hoarse laugh after indulging you into his new reality.

it’s as if you’re sobering, you slowly lift yourself up from your mattress. hair brushes past your dewy face and wetted lips, and you bring your knees close to your chest to stay seated under the slice of moonlight, eager to hear your ex-boyfriend’s rare struggle.

“how about you?” yoongi asks like he used to. “how have you been?”

“fine,” you answer. “me not calling you ever since and begging for another chance says everything.”

“i guess you’re right.” his hollow laugh reverberates in your ear. “i know it’s fucked coming from me, but i…” he breathes out loud, “—wanted to ask you a favour.”

“why?” you pry quietly. “what do i have and you don’t?” you ask with bitterness on the tip of your tongue. you’re no superstar and you’re no millionaire like him—you’re just you—the average you.

“want to find out?”

from there, all you hear is white noise. though yoongi kept the audio quite blank before, you couldn’t hear any background noise until now. there’s constant crackles and sounds that resemble the howling of the wind.

by sweeping open the curtain beside you, the drip of moonlight seeping through your room enlarges.

now you see the moon as whole in the starry sky alongside leaves rustling in sync with the noise from your phone.

“are you outside?” 

“uh…” yoongi wonders huskily. he used to tousle his own hair while pondering aloud. “do you still live in the same house?” he inquires cautiously.

immediately, you crawl closer to your window, hurriedly smacking your palm against the glass to peer straight down from the third floor of your apartment.

your eyes brim with anticipation as they bounce everywhere—the flickering streetlights, the dimmed garden, the dormant cars parked outside, the swaying trees.

“are you here?” your breath trembles as you try to extinguish the glimmer of hope within. considering his status, everything he does on his own is like playing with spitting flames, although he’s human just like you.

“yeah,” he replies softly. “do you want to talk?”

“yeah,” you answer identically. “i’ll be down in a second.”

“alright.”

he always left you to hang up, and today wasn’t any different.

for a moment, you stare at your phone screen lit up with a new, unregistered number and the ongoing time beneath.

you’re inevitably on a delay because of how surreal everything is, but you manage to disconnect the call promptly in order to face him for the first time in years. 

this is your ex—your ex, min yoongi, is downstairs—a ramble and an echo of your own words play inside your head while you storm out of your apartment to rush into the elevator.

because of how ungodly the hour is, there isn’t a single soul out in the lobby. secrecy is on your side today, and you know for a fact yoongi will be appreciative of it.

with breaths that you can’t even collect, you chew on your lip as the elevator dings on the ground floor.

the lobby is cold—insanely cold—the cold pierces through your skin, desperate to cling onto your heat. even so, the automatic doors slide open at the sense of your urgency, and your head turns in accordance to the voices of your heart—where is he? is he really here?

and you see him—he looks nothing like the yoongi you saw in your torturous and repetitive dreams back then.

yoongi has his eyes set to the ground as he absentmindedly roams around the front of your apartment. his pale skin infused with moonlight glows unlike his attire—he always liked his blacks. 

“yoongi,” you involuntarily call out in an unexpectant soft decibel. you want to be louder, but the squeeze of your heart restricts you from doing so. 

yoongi stops mid-motion to flick his head up at the sound of your velvety voice. “it really has been a while.” he laughs once in absurdity. “thanks for coming out.”

you only stepped out of your own home, but he’s the one who travelled beyond thirty minutes to see you.

“what brings you here at this time?” exhaling slowly, you hug your own bare arms to keep yourself warm. 

yoongi averts your gaze by turning his head to sigh loudly. “it’s just me thinking for myself again.” he looks out, “you know how i am when it comes to my priorities.”

“did you argue with one of the boys?” you frown. “is something not working out?” 

“the memories of you in my head were starting to fade,” he says. “i couldn’t sit around and let that happen.” 

“we broke up.”

at that, yoongi takes his approach to walk closer. he’s intentional with his steps, keeping it slow amidst the chilliness which should be attacking him as much as it’s bothering you. “i know.” he answers deeply, still leaving gaps for you to fill.

“you’re going to be seen with me,” you dismiss heartlessly as you survey your surroundings worriedly before returning his stare. 

yoongi drops his head again to exhale in thought. then, he wordlessly slides his zip up hoodie off of his shoulders to drape it around your smaller body. his eyes glide over your collarbones, but he’s quick to hide your skin by bringing each end of the hoodie together.

you raise your brow. “seriously?”

“is that all i made you think of?” yoongi cuts in. “i knew i was a shitty boyfriend, but, wow, it never gets old.” his hand drops in defeat as he laughs under his breath.

“forget it,” you bite the inner flesh of your cheek, grasping yoongi’s hoodie to tear it off. “we—no, you said you had a favour for me?”

yoongi reaches out to seize your hand, stopping you from escaping his scent and warmth. he’s rather blunt for someone who’s no longer with you anymore, nor is he even hesitant or cautious when touching you. “yeah, i do.” he then answers casually after retreating. “i have somewhere to take you.”

you don’t know how the hell you made it here; you don’t know why you’re seated here without any sort of resistance in yoongi’s studio—listening to nothing but the obnoxious ticking noises in the room.

it’s undeniably a distracting sound, so you wonder how yoongi works under it—or should you say above, considering how high he is up in the world?

“you got rid of your old speakers.” you mention as you start to realise everything in this room is unrecognisable to you.

yoongi falls lazily onto his chair, accustomed to this mundane routine of his. “which ones?”

“never mind,” you mutter in embarrassment. “it’s been years, and electronics get replaced all the time—” laughing awkwardly, you grip onto the edge of the couch. “—don’t they?”

yoongi’s breath tumbles into a nostalgic laughter. “just be yourself.” 

pursing your lips uncomfortably at his familiarity towards you, your thighs tense as you remain quietly seated on his couch beside the rest of his equipment and multiple monitors projecting a music production software. “are you working on new music?” you ask out of awkwardness.

“yeah,” yoongi turns to face the main monitor. “my last album before i enlist.”

you try to swallow the gulp stuck on your throat. “when is it coming out?”

yoongi sucks in a breath as he sits back on the headrest, gazing at the ceiling thoughtlessly. “good question.” before you can open your mouth to inquire, he smiles knowingly and interrupts, “come see this,” he tilts his head in the direction of his workspace.

curious, you lift your weight off of his couch to trudge over to hover beside yoongi. your stare descends to the notebook covered in rushed, indecipherable handwriting.

“can you tell?” 

by all means at his words, you squint, trying to decrypt the meaning behind his ideas formed in scribbles. “not really?” your voice projects with uncertainty. 

yoongi cracks into a short, breathy laugh. “even after so many years with me.” he drags out a croaky yet deep ‘hm’ before confessing in a mutter, “it’s about you—listen, i know it doesn’t look like it, but… uh, fuck.”

you couldn’t help but to chuckle at him stressing. “yeah, okay.” you roll your eyes playfully, “sure it is.”

at your reply, yoongi wordlessly clicks through a few prompts on his computer. “and this.”

by rocking forward from where you stand, you instantly recognise the meaning behind the folders shown on the monitor. there’s four folders named after you—in your initials. 

“they’re all for the album i’m working on.”

you turn to face yoongi blankly, faces now close from your slouch. “what if i told you i had a boyfriend?” you were meant to say boldly, however yoongi’s timeless pink lips take you aback.

“you wouldn’t have come out if you did.”

the confidence in his voice makes you freeze momentarily. the time he’s spent with you is definitely not a delusion. it’s no surprise he knows you well. “true.” you forfeit.

“so…” yoongi trails off huskily. “is it too late for us to start over again?”

did you hear correctly?

your heart comes to a brake; one with an aggressive skid. “are you being serious?” you ask breathily. 

he nods once. “damn serious.”

you push yourself back a little, knees still bent. “i… didn’t think a day like this would come.”

“you have an unforgettable face and voice.” yoongi exhales, “i really tried.”

“thank you for not trying hard enough.” stifling your chuckle and retaining your helpless smile, you reach out to tenderly clasp his shoulders. “i think i would’ve gone crazy if you did.”

yoongi elicits laughter. “crazier than when you’re hungry?”

you attempt to shake his shoulders. “i really considered becoming your fan to justify my liking towards you.” 

“even if every song of mine was based on you?” he genuinely asks. “you wouldn’t last a day being in the audience.”

“come on,” you roll your eyes.

“so stay as my girlfriend.” yoongi confesses. “i’ll treat you right—better, this time.”

you couldn’t deny the anxiety pooling in your stomach at his suggestion. after all, he’s a superstar—most fitted to be up high, sparkling like the twinkling stars in the night.

and what are you?

how will you shine beside him?

won’t you just drag him down?

no.

that’s not true.

you’re you—you’re sure you shine in your own way.

that’s the reason behind why everyone exists today.

you let a smile consume your lips as you nod. “i’ll trust you.” you muse, “like how i did long ago.”

yoongi ascends from his seat and stands on his feet, causing you to stumble back instinctively. “except this time i won’t disappoint you.” he watches you turn silent at his promise. “i have more than enough time to love you now.”

shaking your head, your smile widens. “you’re sounding a lot like someone who’s been an idol for over ten years.” 

yoongi tightens his lips as he shrugs his shoulders like he normally does. “well, that’s the truth.” he answers huskily. “i’m growing old.”

“we are growing old.”

“hopefully together.”

you grimace jokingly. “you’ve gotten awfully sweeter.”

“it’s about time i try some romance.” yoongi tilts his head to the side invitingly before spreading open his arms for you to clearly jump into. it fuels a wave of nostalgia to flood into your mind.

you cross your arms teasingly, dismissing him for a moment. “in a company full of beautiful people dancing and singing everywhere they go, there’s no way you had zero interest after me.” 

“just get in here.” he flicks his head towards himself and his arms.

raising one brow, you stare at him defeatedly. “you have a lot of storytelling to do.” 

“and you talk too much,” yoongi says bluntly, however it’s just his way of speech. “you should know how impatient i am.”

“yeah, yeah.”

at that, yoongi loops his arms around you. with the force of his arms, causing you to subtly thud against his chest. an arm of his snakes behind your head, allowing his hand to rest against the softness of your uncombed bed hair.

taken aback,  half of your face buries comfortably into the side of his neck and his left shoulder. 

he still feels the same.

he still smells the same.

“thank you.” he mutters softly into your ear, holding you tightly against himself to refrain you from flipping and turning to observe his expression. “i had no hope for today, but—” he inhales sharply. “—never mind.”

you manage to leave a distance between yourself and yoongi to peer up at his face. “hey,” you whisper cautiously when you see the seriousness written over his façade. he blinks slowly, lips shut and quiet. “it’s not like we ended terribly.” extending your hand, you cup his heated cheek.

perhaps yoongi is guilty, he keeps himself isolated from the idea of elucidating. 

“superstar, i’m honoured to see you look so unsure of me.”

he finally breaks into a croaky scoff. “don’t call me that.”

you quickly swoop forward to steal a kiss from his lips, immediately feeling red upon tearing away. “i’m just stating a fact.”

“i’ll be good to you.” he promises the moment you drift from his lips. 

“did you do anything yesterday?” you ask as you observe jungkook get ready. at his usual delay, your gaze rolls flat onto the ground in disappointment, escaping the sight of jungkook fixing his hair in your mirror.

the couple of calls you made to him last night after gruelling moments of hesitation were all missed. you know he isn’t obliged to answer you, but for someone who’s been sleeping over at yours for countless nights, you anticipated a little more—just a little more attention.

“what was that?” jungkook then asks back absentmindedly.

“oh,” your gaze bounces up, knowing he’ll stare back once you reply. “were you busy yesterday?”

a lopsided smile flourishing on his lips, he turns his head to meet your expectant gaze. “i was at another gathering,” he answers. “you might know them, actually.”

“really?” a forced grin inevitably latches onto your features at his obliviousness. he talks as if he’ll invite you the next time he’s out, but the truth is that he won’t—more so if you know the people he’s planning to spend time with. 

the moment jungkook fixes the last of his stray hairs, he retreats from his own reflection to position himself next to you on the side of your bed. “were you waiting for me?” he whispers teasingly into your reddened ear.

“no,” you interject in embarrassment. “i was just—”

a knowing chuckle spills past his lips. “sorry,” he murmurs sweetly. “my phone was on silent.” you watch his doe eyes evaluate; in his mind, he’s calculating what would throw you out of these phases of disappointment. 

so he knew you called.

you shake your head profusely in dismissal. “don’t worry about it.”

at your reassurance, jungkook’s attention diminishes from the conversation. instead, he moves a hand close to your face, a finger delicately gliding across the lower lip before pressing down on it, causing your lips to separate and subtly spread apart. 

“hey,” your voice squeezes out muffled.

“can i find you after class today?” 

again, you’re found nodding at his suggestion. jungkook smiles at that, pleased with your compliance. he proves it to you by swiftly leaning forward, stopping mid-way just to catch you breathless before drawing close enough to capture your lips for a taste.

jungkook backs away with the sound of a subdued smooch, and you immediately sling yourself back and gasp dramatically in utter surprise. your eyes widen at jungkook who’s now grinning triumphantly. 

at times where you should be fighting for extremities, he never fails to render you silent. he works harmoniously with the prickly sensation that only emerges into prominence when he’s around.

“i’ll see you later.” he whispers softly.

your head is peeking out and peering out to the distance while on your tiptoes expectantly. a sigh eventually tumbles out of your lips when another minute of nothing passes.

what are you waiting for?

you drop your head back, allowing the tide of disappointment to consume you as whole again. class ended an hour ago, and for jungkook, his class should’ve ended at a similar time to yours. 

you peer up, exhaling freely at the galaxy looming over you. it’s the brightest company there is, yet here you are, waiting for someone who only offers fractured promises. 

you don’t even know why you’ve devoted yourself to such shallow loving—he’s barely given you any signs of reciprocation, and deep inside, you know that—you’ve set yourself for detonation.

you begin to walk, breaking free from these hollow expectations embedded into your head. you leave any thought knotted with the remnants of jungkook in the air.

upon passing familiar buildings nearby, you coincidentally find someone who looks exactly like jungkook standing on top of a flight of stairs, melded majestically in flickering light. even with his back turned, the resemblance is uncanny. 

stealing a glance through your narrowed lenses, you struggle to see the rest of his façade after observing for minutes. the anonymous barely moved since. he isn’t alone, because you can see another pair of legs through the gap of his own. your perspective from the lower ground is helpful in that sense.

then slight movement—you watch the mysterious guy randomly lean forward, naturally revealing more of the other person with him at this hour. 

it’s a girl—a girl in your practical class. 

now the mystery unveils; a fervent sensation pinches parts of your heart when you notice that the guy is in fact jungkook. 

without giving you a second to breathe, he inches closer to plant a chaste kiss onto her lips. you’re unconsciously counting the seconds of their intimacy like a psychopath even with the aggravating heated jabs in your chest. 

“jungkook?” she questioned, insolence apparent in her voice. “he doesn’t date.”

“he’s hot, but what’s the point when all he does is fuck around?”

you were warned.

you were seriously warned.

it’s you who chose this twisted fate for yourself.

with the lamp on, you lay still in bed, gazing at the dimmed ceiling. the stuffy feeling in your chest simmered, but now you’re dealing with a bundle of sickening anxiety that claimed its spot in the depths of your stomach.

the sigh you release aligns perfectly with the noise of your doorbell chiming. mainly startled, you spring up, creasing the sheets beneath as you stumble towards the monitor connected to the camera on your door.

as if god is entertained by the thought of suffering from your self-inflicted consequences, your breath hitches and your tongue tangles at jungkook’s spontaneous advent. 

oh god.

through the fuzzy quality of the monitor, you feast your eyes on the rare moments of him waiting for you; for you to open up and embrace the danger he emanates like the scent of his fresh cologne.

that ultimately provokes you to push open the door. your frustration towards your own self is immeasurable, but there’s no cure for lovesickness. deadpanning, you raise your head, feeling a draft of wind caress your face before finding jungkook’s indifferent eyes. 

“you’re ridiculous.” in all sorts of ways, jeon jungkook.

however all he does is let his eyes roam, allowing him to explore the elusive details of your body. averting his gaze from your eyes, he then stares at your lips, the curves of your neck before overtly pausing at your bare collarbones.

your jaw drops ajar the moment you decipher the true meaning behind his stare; you’re in nothing but your pyjamas—a tank top and shorts.

“have you eaten?”

brows collapsing into a tenuous frown, you shake your head adamantly. “no,” you shut down. “i wasn’t hungry.”

“still,” jungkook sighs out loud as he places his palm against your forehead, checking your temperature for his sake. “i don’t want to think about you getting sick again—”

you immediately grab ahold of his wrist, tearing his hand away from you. “come in,” you mutter. “i want to talk to you.”

jungkook steps in, automatically stopping in front of your closed door instead of entering further. “i’m listening,” he says knowingly. “tell me anything.”

you inhale, voluntarily stopping yourself from breathing at his sweet offer. “why do you make me wait?” you confess. “am i that easy?”

jungkook raises an aggressive brow, offended by your accusation. “it’s not that.”

“i saw you on the way home.” you cut in determinedly. “i didn’t mean to, but i saw you with someone else.”

“why does that matter?” 

of course.

this is the type of person jungkook is.

“is it the kiss you’re worried about?” jungkook takes a step forward deliberately, naturally causing you to trip backward until your shoulders are harshly pressed against the wall, trapped under his piercing gaze.

shooting a pained glare at him, you scoff inwardly. “so you do know.”

jungkook looks away as he sighs frustratedly. “it wasn’t anything special.”

“that makes you even worse.”

“if it didn’t mean anything to me, you should be caring less about it.” 

jerk.

you scoff in a series as you brush your hair back angrily. “that’s clearly not the point here.”

“then what is?”

he’s right.

what is the point of arguing when you’re the reason behind this heartbreak?

you knew this.

you had this coming.

“forget it.” you exasperate bitterly, “what can i say as someone who isn’t important to you either?”

“that’s not it.”

“then who am i to you?” 

“someone different to me.” he answers vaguely. “you’re the only person i enjoy being with.”

his words take you aback, inducing heat to reside in your body again in unease; it melts down your next words lingering on the tip of your tongue.

“how about you?” jungkook asks deeply. “how do you feel about me?”

“i don’t know how to feel about—”

“should we let it go then?” his hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin in tender strokes. “one word from you, and i’ll stop.”

you’re anxious; you’re frightened in case this might be the last.

jungkook is a paradox you can’t seem to grasp. behind your back is a world that carries his name; your mind searches for him in a cloud of cigarette smoke and a garden full of butterflies.

you’re afraid that’ll torment you; it’d kill you to think there was once a possibility to make that all into bliss.

because after all this time, no one’s ever been as magnetising as him.

fuck it.

tilting your head upward ever so slightly, you lean into plant a gentle kiss on his lips. you resign from the kiss quicker than usual; avoiding eye contact and turning your head to the side. 

“are you sure?” jungkook questions.

“i’m not.” 

oblivious to the silence, your gaze flickers, unsure of what to do next to relieve the tension. your blood surges, heightening the warmth in your cheek, making it known to jungkook’s fingertips.

wordlessly, his hand falls, instead it finds your jaw; he holds the end of your chin, steadily turning your head back to him.

your heart begins to race at a speed you’ve never felt; hard thumps thrash against your ribcage. there’s butterflies pedantically fluttering in your stomach, probably alarmed by the brute force of your heart.

“are you busy tomorrow?”

you simply shake your head.

“spend it with me then.” 

“don’t you have class tomorrow?”

“i’ll just miss it.” jungkook draws in, shortening the space between your bodies before pulling in for a kiss harsher than yours. your eyes shut at his eager lips, arms instinctively finding its way to hook around his neck.

this is… fine—right?

before your shoulders can ram any harder against the wall, he fluidly slips his arms under your thighs, carrying you high against his chest. not only does it grant you the room to fully loop your arms around his neck, but it brings you dangerously near, offering you the option of fuelling the fiery kiss.

when he perches you on top of your own kitchen counter without giving your lips a rest, you fall back into his arms, curious to see the expression he has on for you.

jungkook tilts his head in wonder. “is this my first time seeing you with your hair tied up?” he smiles slyly, stiffening his grip around your waist.

“oh—” your hand frantically rummages for the hair tie buried in your hair. once you grab it, you slide it off in a panic, knowing it wasn’t your best job. you accidentally left it in and tossed around in your bed. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“what was that for?” he cracks into an airy chuckle. “now i can’t say you look gorgeous.”

you purse your lips teasingly. “can’t you still?”

“but with your hair down—” he purposely tips into the curve of your neck to breathe against your ear, sending you continual waves of electricity. “—you’re something else.” 

you smack his shoulder with a tough blow. “give me a break,” rolling your eyes sarcastically, you huff out a small pout. “i had enough of your vague words today.”

“yeah?” jungkook hums, “i’ll leave it to your imagination then.”

“very funny.”

“should we eat something?” jungkook coaxes in a whisper.

you side-eye the clock. “it’s so late, but…” you trail off. “this is the best time to eat.” 

“that’s what i like to hear.” 

“you did what?”

“please, don’t be so loud!” a girl hushes her friend beside her. 

the ruckus lured your gaze to lift. it’s how you envisioned—just two girls procrastinating on their due work and relaying updates of each other’s lives on the weekend. you simply nod alone in understanding, gradually letting your attention pan back to your painting. 

“come on!” a burst of laughter escapes the friend’s entire body. “jungkook came over to yours on saturday?”

inevitably, your whole existence comes to a complete stop at the sound of his name slipping out of someone else’s mouth. your finger buffers, causing your brush stroke to deviate elsewhere, abandoning a permanent red stain on a place you wanted uncoloured.

“shut up.” she stresses behind clenched teeth. “people are going to hear.”

you’ve seen and heard about him kissing people heartlessly, but a story about him staying over at another girl’s house is not only just breaking news, but something you weren’t mentally ready for.

“who cares!” she cackles hysterically. “it’s not like anyone here had the same amount of romance as you with him.”

“romance?” the girl groans knowingly. “as if he does any of that.” she sighs in sheer disappointment; a sound you thought you could only make regarding him. “i fucking wish.”

“we need to talk more about what the two of you did after class.” 

the girl dunks her paintbrush back into a can of dirtied water. “where should we go?” she giggles enthusiastically. “my house?”

“ew,” her friend screeches. “without knowing what the fuck you two did in there?”

“shut up!”

lost in a world that now feels uncomfortably fuzzy, you suddenly jolt at a random vibration in your pocket. your phone alarms you of what feels like a new text. with a half absent mind, you take the phone out of your jeans for a dire distraction.

[jeon jungkook] 14:22.‘you’re finishing soon.’

[jeon jungkook] 14:23. ‘i’m coming to see you. let’s get lunch together?’

14:23. ‘sure.’

unlike him, he matched the time perfectly to invite you for lunch. it’s only minutes before your two-hour long recreational class ends, and all you’re taking to the future is an unerasable and disastrous story caused by a single mention of his name.

you’re pathetic.

of course, it’s from here onward, time loses its power against you. it always has, especially if it’s anything related to jungkook. though you’ve thoughtlessly accepted to be the extra company he can unconditionally ask for, you decide to remain seated in an emptying classroom, stupidly waiting for him to notice your wretched choice to rebel against him for the very first time.

this is who you’ve become—a person craving nothing but short-lived attention from someone who gives you bruises like presents.

“found you.”

there he is.

“not hungry again?”

your eyes stay grounded and your lips remain sealed in thinking. eventually, you feel a breath caress your ear, sending a frigid shiver down your spine. it wakes you up, triggering your gaze to shoot towards the beautiful yet menacing cause—jungkook.

flustered, your eyes widen in embarrassment. you totally lost your equilibrium. “i was distracted,” you mutter. “what did you say?”

“i’m complaining because you didn’t let me court you today.” jungkook replies smoothly. “did you change your mind?”

court you? 

“a little.” you answer vaguely, still uncomfortable to face the truth.

“i’m a little hurt.” jungkook jests softly. “i missed you.” he casually drags out a spare seat beside you to sit on. “how about you?”

missed you?

you look fixedly at his attractive uneven grin. “more than you did.”

“really?” his eyebrows raise in contentment. “are you sure you’re not more interested in the masterpiece you’re working on than a date with me?”

a date?

with your head lowered, you sigh deeply. “let’s drop this.” you propose abruptly. “let’s drop it before i start to annoy you with my feelings.”

“is that the reason?” 

“it’s the reason and the problem.” you turn back to jungkook, facing him through your seat aligned with his. “so let’s not see each other like this after today.”

he seems taken aback, speechless—almost.

“the reason and the problem is that i started to care about who you meet and kiss.” you confess. “and that shouldn’t happen between you and i.”

you knew all this time.

“because that’s a break of your rules.” your sick rules of seeing people without strings attached.

jungkook avoids your gaze by looking to the side. though not visible and barely audible, you can pick up the muted sound of his breath that’s longer than usual. you watch his eyebrow piercing twitch in contemplation as your chest starts to carry weight again. it feels heavy inside; it’s no longer a foreign feeling to you, but something so familiar.

pushing yourself out of the stool, you set off a loud screech before standing on your feet upon securing enough room. “i won’t apologise for it.” you exhale strongly, “i won’t join you today.”

“don’t forget your painting.”

“you take it if you meant what you said before.” 

when you try to take a step further away from him, jungkook grabs ahold of your swaying wrist to stop you halfway. “do you mean it?”

“are you talking about the artwork?” you scoff lightly before clearing your throat awkwardly regardless. “i have to restart.”

“i meant your feelings.”

“what about it?” 

“are you actually taking me seriously?”

offended, you aggressively flick your wrist away from his grip. “you’ve never been a joke to me like i was to you.”

“you’re judging me way too quickly here.”

“then can i give you time to explain?”

at the end of your sentence, he’s silent to make his hand known to you again. his fingers clamp your wrist gently, grasping it in a way that brings you to feel baffled at the unfamiliarity. he’s completely defenseless with you, to the point it’s forcing you to think you could be the person to break him if you wanted.

your breath trembles in confusion as you blink profusely at jungkook’s sealed lips. your arm solidifies under his grip.

“are you alright with someone like me?” he asks softly while caressing your wrist with the pad of his thumb.

you watch jungkook’s eyes deepen in curiosity. “i wouldn’t be here if i wasn’t.”

“really?” jungkook cracks into an enigmatic chuckle, masking his insecurities. “i want to believe you so badly.” he mutters under his breath.

“jungkook,” you pronounce.

the lingering movement in jungkook’s fingers halt at the sound of his own name gently rolling off your tongue.

“how do you feel?” you spin the bottle back to him verbally. “did you stop me because you’re afraid you might be losing one of your many girls, or did you stop me because you mean it?”

“i feel like i’d miss you.”

“to that someone you’re planning to miss, you’ve been flirting whilst kissing different girls in front of her eyes.” you mutter back. “can you get back to her when you feel apologetic about that? because she likes you so much now, she can’t handle the sight of you being your usual self anymore.”

“can i let her know that this is my first time feeling like this?”

“feeling like what?” you ask hesitantly.

“i feel like you’re going to be my last thought every night if you go like this.” he answers. “and i don’t know for how long.”

“i like you, jeon jungkook.”

“i—”

you whisper, “and i think you like me too.”

“yeah.” 

turning towards his wrist, you take a step forward to close into his face. jungkook peers up to you from his seat in astonishment, however you simply reach out to press your fingertip against his bottom lip, wiping a darkened lipstick stain away in the opposite direction as an evident frown paints your softened features.

jungkook stares at your dirtied digit. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.” you now reply softly in slight embarrassment. you talked with a bigger mouth than usual, which is a colour jungkook has never seen until today.

“is it?”

you shift your head to the side. “my shade would look prettier on you.”

this lobby is a pigsty. just an abundance of egotistical racers, mostly made of men, chortling and snickering about the petty little numbers etched into their records.

nothing is ever different here, except the numbers beside your name.

it’s the only salvageable aspect in this industry, considering that’s the only statistic that matters here.

however, there happens to be a wild card in today’s race. all empty heads did turn at the news of him earlier, and of course, the room still remains heated. simply unnoticeable if a glance is all someone would offer. 

to be precise, it’s because of him—the variable.

when he walked in the room full of unbending tension, your façade inevitably dulled at the sight of jeon jungkook—your one and only rival on the tracks.

you’ve heard of him, but this is your first time seeing him up close.

inquisitive, you drastically swing your head to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of his infamous side profile.

your eyes are half-shut in lack of interest as you scrutinise the average guy in his jet black race suit, sitting maybe ten metres ahead of you.

the only thing recognisable is that he looks as bored as you.

a solid 6/10.

as if he heard, jungkook lifts himself up from the couch he was sitting on; he didn’t seem comfortable because of how low the couch is for his height anyway.

besides, considering the bored guise he has displayed on his excessively praised features, his decision to leave the lobby isn’t so surprising.

you continue to stare at him when he walks past you, and at the last second, he returns a knowing gaze before ultimately exiting the room without causing much commotion like before.

whatever that meant.

staring up at the clock mounted on a wall ahead, you bat your eyes upon checking that there’s plenty of time before your race. consequently, in your place of being a veteran racer, you’re beyond capable of dedicating a fraction of your time to unnecessary things like tailing his steps. 

you’re just curious.

a decisive breath slipping past your lips, you stand, determined to go through the same door. you turn a slight corner, retreating from your chair to push through the exit, palms flat against the door.

“i must be bothering you a lot.” you suddenly hear as soon as you let go of the door to shut.

viciously snapping your head towards the unfamiliar voice, you don’t even try to hide the obvious shock written all over your face when you catch jungkook smirking at your entrance. “say that again?” you raise a brow at his absurd assumption.

he’s not entirely wrong.

“i don’t see you denying.” his smirk still intact, he crosses his arms to test your temperament.

“you’re full of yourself.” you snarl as you lean forward to his face in hopes of erasing the triumphant smirk off of his face. to think the jeon jungkook is a conceited bastard outside of his car is an ego boost you didn’t think you’d need.

jungkook inches further, stopping when his forehead meets yours. “such a hypocrite you are.” he peers down at your shorter height before whispering, “i know you.”

“who doesn’t?” you bark out a scoff before trying to shove him away with both hands. jungkook doesn’t budge at that, so all you do is grit your teeth behind your own scowl.

“you’re right,” jungkook mutters under his breath. “after all, we’re surrounded by all these racers who think they have a chance against you.” grinning lopsidedly, he reaches out to play with a strand of your hair, twirling a lock on his index finger until your hair tightens around his digit.

you wince inwardly at the sudden tug of your hair. “isn’t it too late for flattery?” 

by slightly angling his head to the side, jungkook eyes the empty yet vast corridor. on each side of you, there’s two routes—to the left is the exit, and to the right are the waiting rooms. “if we stay here, someone will see us.”

“so?”

“you know, we look extremely suspicious right now.”

you watch your hair smoothly slide out of jungkook’s fingers. “two people can’t talk to each other?” 

“who says i’m talking?”

footsteps—you can undoubtedly hear someone—perhaps two, walking towards the door behind your shoulder. the weight of each step becomes heavier and louder with every second passing.

you didn’t want the world to fall into jungkook’s hands, but once again, today is another day that orbits around his control.

“just come to my room.” jungkook coaxes in a sweet whisper. “i’ll tell you what i think about right before pressing down on the accelerator.” he chuckles mockingly, “come on, it’ll lessen the thought of me in your head.”

“me?” you almost choke on air. “thinking about you?”

“you give yourself away too easily.” jungkook backs away with the truth in his mouth. “i saw you staring and now you’ve been caught following.”

“shut up.” you retort in embarrassment. “save the words and lead the way.” you roll your eyes, casually smacking his shoulder as you trudge past him—an insufficient blow for his arrogance, but it’ll have to do for now.

because you won’t lie, you’d like to figure out what lives in his head.

the journey to his room isn’t far. is it a coincidence that his room happened to be the first one down in the line? when jungkook stops at a door, you hover behind him, hoping to maintain a reasonable distance between the two of you. 

“so what is it that you want to know?” jungkook asks without giving you a minute to adjust in his territory. 

you scour his room absentmindedly whilst approaching jungkook who’s resting against the table supporting all of his equipment—an extra helmet, gloves and some clothes to change into afterward; all made by calvin klein. “weren’t you the one who offered a conversation about your mindset before a race?” you huff in annoyance, “unless you were joking like a piece of shit.”

“no way.” jungkook cracks a grin at your audacious demeanour.

“then?”

jungkook gestures to you to come closer, and at first, you’re adamant. you dislike how you’re agreeing with all his suggestions so far, but you choose to forfeit when you realise that jungkook has no intention to move and do anything for himself.

“what?” you observe jungkook’s maximised mien now that you’re helplessly close. there’s a tenuous freckle under his lower lip, and on top of a vein, an even darker freckle on the side of his neck has taken its place on his tanned complexion. there’s also a scar on his cheek—so fine and delicate; luckily the scar doesn’t seem like it carries trauma.

with all those considered, a 7/10.

“this is exactly what i’m talking about.” jungkook catches you red-handed again. it’s no secret you were scanning him directly in front of his face anyway.

“shut up.” 

“will you?”

“you’re telling me to shut—” the strength in your voice vanishes completely at the sensation of an arm suddenly snaking around your waist. 

privacy is what he was after.

once an arm of jungkook’s has clinged onto your paralysed body drenched in utmost surprise, he deliberately tightens his grip around one side of your torso to keep you alert. “if you want me to stop talking, do it yourself.” he implies suggestively. 

“just because you know me, that doesn’t give you the right to randomly touch me like this—” you cut yourself off, knowing your words mean nothing but pure entertainment to him. his unserious smile alone says a million words. “are you even listening?”

“it’s you i think about.” jungkook abruptly confesses as a means of dismissing your complaints.

baffled, you blink profusely at his insane answer. “are you joking?” you spit out, flustered by the amount of confusion and irritation jungkook gave like nothing.

“do i look like i’m joking?” he interjects as if offended. 

“how is it not?” you aggressively interrogate the meaning behind his words. “unless you happen to be a fan of mine.”

wordlessly, he circles both his arms around your waist to trap you in between his thighs. “what’s your thought on dating fans?” he tilts his head and grins cryptically with you in his proximity. “or how about someone who drives better than you?”

“choosing winners already?” you hiss at his stretched confidence before planting your palms against his shoulders to fend him from sticking to you further. “get off of me.” hands now grasping jungkook’s zipper above his adam’s apple, your eyebrows collapse into an intense furrow.

jungkook rocks his head back, chuckling breathily at your rough initiation before returning the undivided attention back to your weary eyes. “how about a bet?” unbothered by your grapple, he lightly taps his finger against your back a few times, knowing what kind of effect it has on you.

jungkook’s fingertips are like electricity; a part of you jolts as a shiver runs through your back, all the way to your nape. however, your ears perk up at the inception of a gamble. “what now?” a frown persists to mask your intrigue against him. “i swear, if it’s something stupid—”

a shallow laughter releases from his own depths. “now i have your attention?”

eventually, your grip loosens, and before you know it, your arms are back to your sides. “you surely do talk a lot.”

“that can be helped.” like someone who knows exactly what the next card is in the deck, jungkook is quick to yank your entire body towards a certain direction with the help of his arms; not even is there time for a breath to pass your oesophagus. he almost trips you over onto his thigh with the fuel of force, clearly unconcerned of your landing. you’re triggered to instinctively grasp onto his shoulders, desperate to avert any sort of injury prior to your race. “should i demonstrate how?” he asks once his eyes are locked with yours, catching the remaining panic in your orbs before they can diminish.

shit.

your whole body burns—from the centre and outward, the wildfire spreads at a speed different from a blooming flower. not only are you compelling every ounce of anxiety to subside, but you’re overwhelmed by embarrassment too—you’re helplessly tangled under one guy’s touch; a guy whomst you’ve never met before. any knowledge you have of him is what everyone knows too.

yet here you are, slowly enjoying every bit of temptation he’s feeding you.

screw it.

“go on,” is all you say.

that puts jungkook at a pause: his eyes widen in a way that appears unbelievably innocent—at least in this strange second, he’s not as arrogant and egocentric. instead he just looks like a lost kid who got permission to kiss a girl for the first time.

8/10.

containing your chuckle, you proceed to sling your arm around his neck in ease. “not so confident now—” you tease, “—huh, jungkook?”

“well,” jungkook smirks knowingly. “no need for confidence if you’re going to make things easier.” one arm latched around your waist, jungkook lets his other hand creep up towards your nape—and again, you feel it—your body tensing and squirming internally in resistance as if you’re being electrified. 

sucking in a breath at the feeling of each of jungkook’s fingers wrapping around your neck, you purse your lips to exaggerate a frown purely made of frustration. “just kiss me already.” you suggest boldly. “we can’t be doing this at the start line, can we?”

“i would.”

“what the—”

“go on a date with me after this.” 

before you can utter a single word, the tightness surrounding your neck intensifies, restricting you momentarily from any movement. all the oxygen in the air melts away, and silence jails the two of you—every second starts playing in slow motion, and you feel as though you can dissect each second if you were given the job to do so. 

“how should you respond?”

all you do is nod, and immediately, the concept of distance detonates. jungkook pushes down on your neck, letting your head dip further towards him. you don’t dare to breathe or make yourself known to him right now, instead you take him into your heated embrace, feeling as if that’s the only thing you’re authorised to do—or are you?

just like that, jungkook’s gaze sinks, focusing on your lips for seconds before inching forward to press his lips against yours. unlike the rest of his body, his lips are gentle. it resembles a fragment of the past; you envision the jungkook who froze at your reciprocation. at that, you begin to notice the fuzziness taking place in your chest as you familiarise yourself with him and his antics.

however your thoughts are cut short when jungkook tilts his head to deepen the kiss. as his lips part, yours does too. his hand still remains secured around the base of your neck, left with no necessity to escalate. his weakened grip grants you a single opportunity to break away from his lips, but your arms stay, eager to contain all of his heat for yourself.

“do you do that often?” you murmur, side-eyeing the hand holding you captive.

“thanks to you.” jungkook replies, his voice now profoundly tender.

“can i get a different answer for once?”

“i mean it.” this time, jungkook cups your cheek with the hand that kept you down. “i race because i wanted to meet you.”

race.

shit.

your race.

his race.

the race.

“jungkook?” you call out his name for the first time. “our race?” upon glancing at the clock behind him, you try to rock jungkook’s shoulders by flailing your arms. “hello? i need to make a living?”

“if that’s your only concern, i can manage.”

you dart your eyes back to jungkook. “i get that you’re obsessed with me, but can you let me win the race first?” you sigh dramatically, “you didn’t even tell me about the bet.”

“i didn’t expect you to—” 

“shut up.”

“how about your questionable habit while kissing?”