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Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

“Friends don’t look at each other like this.”

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⚘8.Poisonous or Deadly

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

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⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader ⚘Synopsis: After arriving to New York, things turn complicated in all aspects… Y/N starts to question Seojoon, meanwhile things with Jungkook start taking a warm turn. ⚘Genre:Forbidden love ⚘Word count: 16k ⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of anxiety, mentions of sex, angst, conflict, religious metaphors (the story is not religious but makes references to a higher power, karma, fate, etc.), cigarette use, alcohol use, subtle arguing, jealousy, manipulation, secrecy,heavy tension, cheating, mentions of cheating, mentions of falling out of love/breaking up. Let me know if I miss anything! ⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story. ⚘A/N: IM BACK!!! omg I’m sorry this is out so late into the evening, I’m getting back in the swing of tumblr formatting and proof reading, forgive me. But I’m back for good this time! I’m unsure how often I will post Bloom, but I promise it won’t be a year long wait lol. I plan on working on each chapter right after I post the other one, but have to pace myself. I really hope you enjoy this one, I wanted to make it lengthy since I’ve been away for so long. Also, make sure to check out my Bloom playlist! It has all songs in order by chapter, and the songs really set the mood. I’ll have it linked on the master list, as well as each chapter. LOVE YOU GUYS!!!

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↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

♪ Please Please Please - Sabrina Carpenter

♪ She Knows - J.Cole

♪ The Less I Know The Better - Tame Impala

♪FRI(END)S - V

♪ back to friends - sombr

♪North - Clairo

-ˋˏ ༻ ❁ ✿ ❀༺ ˎˊ-Bloom Playlist-‧₊˚❀ ༉ ‧₊ ˚. ☘︎

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 After checking in and boarding the plane, you were determined to sleep. To avoid the flower that seemed to have grown legs after being buried underneath dirt for so long… Luckily, that wasn’t hard. Sena and Jungkook were seated several seats ahead of you and Seojoon, which you silently thanked whatever higher power is fucking with you for… little mercies and all that.

You popped a Benadryl, and passed out. Which is exactly what you wanted. You don’t have to see whether or not Jungkook looks back at you, you don’t have to see if he spammed your DM’s from his work insta, and you don’t have to see the invisible roots that apparently have kept you both bound for this long. (He did keep looking back at you, he did spam your phone, and in his head he sealed the roots with fucking concrete.)

When you wake up to the announcement that the plane is about to land, you feel sluggish. It was a 13 hour flight, and time difference is 12 hours, which means its around 4-5pm in New York. Too bright for how badly your head hurts right now. Fucking perfect.

Getting off of the plane goes by in a blur; you go through the motions like a zombie which would cause you to silently complain any other day… but today, you’re silently thankful instead. Because being a zombie means it’s easy to ignore him. Easy to ignore the anxiety, uncertainty, and slight irritation his presence has brought you.

But the little mercies don’t last long. You realize that once you’re off the plane and waiting for Seojoon to get whatever rental car he arranged.

You check your phone, and there he is as suspected. Blew your fucking phone up while you were asleep on the plane.

And then clearly, he napped, considering he became silent after that…

You don’t respond. That part of you that you’ve started to think is rotten almost wants to reply. Wants to antagonize him or encourage him. Wants his attention, even though he's giving it so freely… but, you hold back. Don’t unblock him. Don’t respond.

When Seojoon pulls up with the rental, you look around briefly to see if you see Jungkook or Sena. You don’t. Thank god.

After loading your luggage into the car, you get in and ride with Seojoon to the hotel. You try to enjoy the scenery, the city life. Your head feels a bit better now that you're off the plane, but you still feel pretty shitty. Maybe the Benadryl wasn’t the best idea, but… it was better than facing what you don’t want to face.

“You hungry? You slept a long time.”

Seojoon cuts your train of thought off as he drives. His tone is… flat. You glance at him, try to make out what his mood is. He looks a bit tired, but there’s something else there that you can’t quite make out… is he irritated about something too?

“A little… did you sleep?”

He rolls his shoulders as he reaches a red light, doesn’t look at you as he responds, “Not much. Dealt with work shit.”

Work shit. Maybe that’s why he’s irritated, you think. He doesn’t really have a reason to be irritated with you, so you try not to take it personally.

“Well at least we can forget about work shit while we’re here. Spend some time together.”

You reach over and pat his arm gently, squeeze his bicep in reassurance but he just… brushes it off. Sighs. As if you’re bothering him.

“I’m literally here for work Y/N. There’s not gonna be much time to spend together. You knew I was coming for work.”

Oh.

You sort of just stare at him as he drives, because ouch. He’s right of course, but he’s the one who invited you. He’s the one who insisted you come last night. He’s the one who made it seem like it’d be a cute little bonding moment after he declared you his fucking girlfriend.

“Right, yeah, I know…” You mumble as you look out the window. You’re trying not to be too sensitive about it; it was a long flight, he said he didn’t sleep much, so maybe he’s irritable in general. He could be a little nicer, sure, but once he’s slept and eaten a real meal maybe he’ll be more… tolerable.

He glances over then, and feels the slightest tinge of guilt at the way you deflate. He knows he’s the one who invited you. He knows. What he didn’t know was that Sena was coming; before he pushed you to come, she cancelled. She was supposed to come on this trip originally, but canceled last minute a week prior due to a health scare or some shit. Seojoon did try to check on her, but she’s been dry with him for weeks…

And now she’s suddenly here? Impulsively deciding to come? Her not coming was the entire reason he invited you along.

You don’t know that, of course. Which is precisely why he feels guilty.

He reaches over and places a hand on your thigh, squeezes gently the same way you did his bicep, “Sorry, I’m just tired. Of course I’ll make time to do stuff with you while we’re here…”

You almost feel reassured... until he keeps talking.

“But Y/N, we’re only here for a few days… you can’t expect me revolve my time around you when I’m here for work. You can find things to do yourself, ya know? Or… I don’t know, maybe link up with that Jungkook guy. Sena said he’s been here before.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

So not only is he talking to you like you’re being a clingy nuisance, but he’s also pushing Jungkook on you. That’s the last fucking thing you want. Like an unskilled gardener planting a fucking seed that simply does not want to germinate.

Who’s fucking with fate now?

You scoff quietly and shake your head, shift in the passenger seat of the car. The drive to the hotel suddenly seems to be taking forever when you realize you’re stuck in traffic. New York traffic on a Friday afternoon is fucking brutal.

No where to run, though.

“I don’t know him like that. Just forget it, I’ll busy myself until you’re free.”

You try to keep your tone light, nonchalant even, but Seojoon clocks it. He internally groans, because in this moment, while he’s tired and grumpy, he totally sees you as the clingy girlfriend who’s being passive aggressive.

That’s not what you are. But to him, you are right now.

“He seems nice Y/N, give him a chance. From what Sena has told me, you guys are really similar. You like the same type of shit.”

From what Sena tells him.

You don’t know if it’s the fact you feel sluggish and slightly irritable yourself, or if it’s your womanly intuition that’s whispering to you, but that just seems… odd. Maybe you’re overreacting—no, you surely are. But the metaphorical worms in the metaphorical soil of your stomach churn around in the dirt, making you feel something similar, but far less pleasant than butterflies.

“Sena talks about him to you?”

Seojoon side eyes you the moment you ask, fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter. Clingy and paranoid, he thinks to himself.

“Well, yeah, we’re coworkers. It’s normal to talk about eachothers significant other, no?”

You shrug. Yeah, it is normal isn’t it? So why did it make your stomach swoop for a few seconds? “Yeah, of course.”

That’s all you say. Because maybe you are paranoid, but it isn’t for the reasons he thinks… you don’t think Seojoon has anything to hide, he’s always been an up front guy, as far as you know. But you? You do. It’s why your hands are ghosted with remnants of dirt and wilted petals.

Projecting. You’re projecting, probably… you need to quit that. Because Seojoon wouldn’t hide anything from you. Get it the fuck together.

The ride is silent from then on, saved by the radio that Seojoon turns on. Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter starts playing. It’s a good song… but why does that traitorous voice in your head whisper 'foreshadowing’?

You need a drink.

After another 30 minutes in traffic, you make it to the hotel. Once Seojoon pays valet for parking, and the bellhops start loading your luggage onto one of the carts, you eagerly make your way inside of the hotel.

The hotel is nice, you have to admit. You know Seojoon’s company paid for it, but you can’t help but feel a tad bit spoiled. The outside looks old but well kept, and the inside is a nice play on retro meets modern. It reminds you of a modern day great Gatsby, vintage looking chandeliers hang above the lobby, while the seating area consists of sleek black leather sofas and gold coffee tables with glass paneling. You like it. A lot. Nice distraction, pretty things are.

Rather than wait in the line with Seojoon to check in, you decide to take a little walk. See if there are any vending machines nearby; a quick snack before dinner is needed. So is time to clear your fucking head and lock in.

You stride the hallways sluggishly until you reach a corridor that has three vending machines, and feel a stupid sense of relief when you realize there’s snacks and drinks, because you and Seojoon could definitely use a bit of caffeine to get you through to bedtime.

You step in front of the vending machine and begin looking through the treats inside; for drinks they have overpriced water and soda, and a few pre mixed coffees to choose from. You already decide you’ll get the coldbrews before you begin trying to decide on snacks. Hard choice when you’re hungry and want everything.

You decide to get Seojoon an Almond Joy and bag of pretzels, because those are his favorite. And just as you’re about to decide for yourself, you feel someone fucking breathing down your neck.

You whip your head around, your mind immediately going to the worse case scenario; some creep, or some asshole trying to mug you, you don’t know.

But it’s much worse than that once you realize who it is.

Jungkook. Jumpscare.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

You grit out at him breathlessly, adjusting your sweater just to calm your shaking hands down. Where the fuck did he even come from? You’d think you’d hear his footsteps but no, apparently he’s a fucking ghost.

Haunting you like you suspected.

“Oh, hi.”

That’s all he says as he leans against the wall next to the vending machines. He’s smiling that stupid smile at you, but his eyes don’t quite match. He looks… irritated. Just like you and Seojoon.

Funny, how you can immediately tell he’s irritated. But you can’t read Seojoon quite as well at first glance.

“Well? You following me around like some creep now or what?”

You mumble as you turn to the vending machine, avoiding looking at him as you punch in random numbers for your own snack. Suddenly, not as hungry anymore. Your tone lacks heat though, it’s almost the tone of someone who’s flustered. You aren’t flustered though, definitely not. Have no reason to be.

“Oh, my bad. Was just getting some snacks, hungry after the flight.”

He shrugs casually, and is telling the truth… mostly.

You eye him as the vending machine makes the annoying plop sound, depositing your snacks at the bottom. Unfortunately, you do know Jungkook, and the man isn’t very prone to change or hiding his emotions. You can tell something is bothering him, and although you know damn well it isn’t in your best interest to ask… you do it anyway.

“You ok?”

He blinks at you, because he didn’t expect you to ask. Didn’t expect you to notice… or maybe he didn’t expect you to care. But he remembers the same as you; you know him well. You know every single petal, bruise, wilt, and blossom inside of him, and not much has changed. Other than the fact he’s more obsessed with you, but that’s not something he’s putting much effort in hiding.

But even then, it amazes him that as he smiles the smile that everyone else thinks is real, you can see something is off by simply looking into his eyes. They lack stars, glitter, planets… they aren’t happy right now.

“I’m good, tired.”

He assures you, smiling again, but nibbling on his lip ring after as he glances at the vending machine. Scouting out choices. Avoiding the full truth as to what’s eating at him right now.

What he doesn’t tell you is how he ran into Seojoon in the lobby after checking in. Him and Sena got here before you guys did, and after he settled into his room, he wanted a snack. Was originally just going to make a trip to the vending machine, but got stopped by your apparent boyfriend. He genuinely didn’t follow you… not at first, anyway.

Now he’s irritated.

Because Seojoon stopped him in the lobby. Slapped a hand on his back, saying ‘hey bro,’ as if they’re the best of pals. But Jungkook could tell Seojoon wasn’t just happy to see him. Seojoon wanted something… what the fuck could he want from Jungkook?

“So, listen, I’m kind of in a dilemma and I was hoping you could help me out, man to man?”

God, what a sleazy fucking way to ask for a favor. But again, Jungkook had no idea what Seojoon could want. Is he broke? Does he need money? Did he forget underwear or some shit?

“Uh, sure bro. What’s up?” Jungkook, being the sweetheart that he is, of course obliged… ok, maybe he isn’t being a sweetheart, maybe he’s being facetious, but that's neither here nor there.

“So the thing is… I brought Y/N thinking she’d understand I’m here for work, ya know? Thought maybe she could do her own thing since I’m gonna be super busy… but she’s being really clingy, man. Like really clingy… So I was hoping you could help me keep her occupied. Maybe show her around, be her tour guide or some shit. Get her off my back, bro to bro… between us. I don’t want her getting lost or something.”

Bro to bro… as in he doesn’t want you to know he’s asking Jungkook to do this.

If this was any other person, if you were any other girl, Jungkook would have said ‘fuck no’ and tattled on him. No, Jungkook isn’t perfect, clearly, but he isn’t about to be the scape goat for some asshole who can’t treat his girl right.

But two things cross his mind, for better or for worse, he isn’t sure; you aren’t just any other girl. You are his Aster, the flower he once grieved but found his way back to… and he needed a fucking excuse to be close to you. This is perfect. Fucking god’s gift; where fate isn’t on your side, it sure as hell is spoiling him.

That, and… A man knows a man. A liar knows a liar. A cheater knows a cheater.

You aren’t the clingy type, never have been. You can be when you’re comfortable enough, but you aren’t the kind of clingy that suffocates; you’re the kind of clingy that makes a man feel fucking wanted. Seojoon is lying. Why? Jungkook has a suspicion, one he knows because he, himself, has done it… he, himself, has asked his friends to get Sena off his back.

He thinks Seojoon is cheating.

With who? He has no fucking idea. Probably a coworker, or maybe he knows someone in New York. He doesn’t comprehend why the fuck he’d invite you here if he was cheating and planned on meeting with someone… and frankly, he doesn’t care. Not right now, anyway. He’ll decide to care once he sees more evidence.

Right now his only focus is you. The flower that stands out amongst the bustking city of New York.

So, he agreed, played the role of supportive bro. Assured Seojoon he’d keep you occupied for the weekend.

And Seojoon, well… he should feel guilty about it for more reasons than Jungkook is aware. But Seojoon is great at burying things in dirt and leaving them there until they’re forgotten… or found, even.

If he won’t appreciate you, Jungkook will. And Jungkook will tell you one day… He has no idea how you ended up with some asshole like Seojoon, but he swears he’ll tell you.

After you open up to him again. After you won’t suspect him of lying for personal gain, because it’s clear your trust in him is low right now. He doesn’t even blame you for that, considering he nearly attacked you after seeing you for the first time in what feels like decades, but he’s going to try to earn it back.

You of course can tell Jungkook isn’t being honest. Yes, maybe he is tired, but that’s not why his smile isn’t reaching his eyes. You want to pry, but also remember the boundaries you’ve been trying to set. If you pry, Jungkook may get the wrong idea… so you simply don’t.

His stare is too intense considering you’re standing awkwardly at the fucking vending machine. Those eyes of his looking at you as if he’s starving and you’re the only sliver of sunlight peeking through the clouds on a rainy day, so you move past him with your arm full of snacks and mumble, “Ah, sorry, your turn.”

You don’t check to see if his gaze follows you as you walk, but you can feel it. Like a single finger gently running up your spine and making goose bumps raise over your skin, you can fucking feel those eyes on you.

Please don’t follow. That’s what you keep repeating to yourself as you make your way down the corridors of the hotel. The corridors which all look the same, the same doors, same carpet, same lights above you, the only difference are the numbers listed on the doors.

Fuck, since when did being around him fill you with so much anxiety? It was less than five minutes and your stomach is churning again. Sure, maybe it’s the lingering guilt, but that is precisely why you don’t plan on making the same mistake twice with him. You must keep your distance.

Because if two seeds are planted next to each other, too close, surely the roots will grow entangled. Wrong, disformed, and what a mess it will be to try and untangle them when the time comes again. You can’t do it twice. You won’t.

“You’re going the wrong way.”

You must keep distance. You. But him? He doesn’t care for the whole distance thing. In fact, it's his biggest fantasy to entangle your roots again; he tells himself it doesn’t have to be the same as last time. His goal isn’t to be romantic with you, although he silently yearns for it, he just wants his favorite person back. You can be friends again. He’s sure of it.

“Oh.”

Is all you mumble in response as you feel him walk beside you. When he appeared, you don’t even know. You glance at him in suspicion that he was just following you this whole time, and made an excuse back at the vending machine. But sure enough, he has one of those prepackaged iced coffees in his hand.

You swear the woman on the Starbucks logo winks at you as if to say you can’t run.

“Y/N, this way.”

He grabs your elbow and tries steering you in the other direction, but you jerk away, maybe a little too hard. Hard enough that you almost drop the little pile of snacks in your hands, and you glare at him for it. Because fuck, he needs to stop touching you.

He side eyes you and his jaw clenches, the muscle in his jaw feathering. Hates the way you act like a spooked animal around him now. He knows kissing you was a fucking mistake, he shouldn’t have acted so impulsively, and probably needs to apologize for it. But fuck, when has he ever hurt you?

Has he hurt you before?

“Sorry.”

He apologizes as his brain starts working against him. Starts going through every encounter you’ve had before and after the beginning and the end. He’d never hurt you on purpose, ever, he’d rather die than hurt you. But now he’s wondering if he had. Although, Jungkook knows deep down that he hurt you back then. Any woman in your situation would be hurt. He just has a hard time accepting the fact he’s the one who fucked everything up.

He's the reason you wilted. He’s the reason he was uprooted. It’s all his fault.

“Mhm.”

You hum in response, although you do start walking in the direction he attempted to guide you in. It’s awkward, painfully so, and you both hate it. Jungkook probably hates it worse than you, and if he’s being honest, he realized on the plane he’s being too much.

He kissed you. Touched you. Spilt hot tea on your not-boyfriend. Stole your fucking wallet to have an excuse to see you again, although you don’t know that. Now he’s following you to New York like some stalker. He can make all the excuses he wants about it being for the photography expo, but you both know that’s not what it was.

Maybe a different approach would be better. Persistence is key, he always told himself. But he needs to be gentle too. Fuck.

“So, anyway, yeah, you know… I was thinking-“

You don’t mean to laugh. Fuck, you shouldn’t even be smiling within 15 miles of him, but he sounds so stupid. Stuttering over his words before he even says anything... it’s cute, and makes it really hard to pretend you’re indifferent to him.

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

He nibbles his lip ring again and tries to ignore the way his heart picks up pace at hearing you laugh. Knows you’re laughing at him. Maybe should be offended by it, but isn’t. Fuck, he’ll act a fool all day if it means you aren’t looking at him like you want him to go away.

“You should unblock me. I know, I know what you’re thinking but just hear me out ok?”

You want to protest the moment he says it. It’s automatic at this point, defensive, because unblocking him would mean opening the door for… for what? For more chances to fuck shit up more than you both already have? You ended things for a reason. The same way books have a definite ending, a final page, you ended it with him and had no intention to write a sequel.

Yet, you don’t say anything to stop him from explaining. Just keep walking as you see the lights to the lobby come into view.

“You don’t have to talk to me or anything, pinky promise I won’t blow your phone up. But if you get lost or something, you can call me.”

“You blew my phone up on the plane.”

Jungkook damn near rolls his eyes. Because yeah, he did, he was bored, and… he missed you. You were right fucking there but so far away. Maybe he’s been too eager, but he’s starting to realize he needs to chill the fuck out. Overwatering a plant doesn’t make it grow faster, doesn’t benefit it at all. He swears he’ll proceed with caution. He fucking swears.

“I know. Sorry. Swear I won’t do it again. You don’t even have to tell me you unblock me, just… if you need me, ya know?”

That’s a partial truth. Because later he’s definitely going to check. Will send period, see if it delivers or not. But he makes a promise to himself he’ll stop acting fucking insane over you.

For the most part, anyway.

You reach the lobby then, and don’t give him an answer. Instead you make your way to Seojoon, who is standing beside the cart full of your luggage impatiently. You’re hoping the snacks help his mood at the very least.

Jungkook wants to follow you, oh god he does. Wants to fucking tie you both together so he can follow you around and be with you the entire time... but he doesn’t. Just nods to Seojoon and makes his way back to the elevator as he fidgets with the cap of his unopened coffee.

“Hey, got you some snacks.”

You say to Seojoon with a tight lipped smile as you reach him. He returns the tight lipped smile, takes the drink and snacks, “Thanks. My favorite.”

He opens the coffee and takes a swig of it. The tiniest drop drips down his chin, so you reach up to swipe it off, but he dodges you. Says nothing to soothe as he wipes it off himself. Fuck, he’s being weird.

“Lets go get settled, then maybe figure out dinner.”

You nod quietly and follow him as he wheels the cart of luggage to the elevator. The silence is loud despite the fact you can hear various people chatting amongst themselves in the hotel lobby. Thankful when you hear the loud ding, itching to get this day over with so maybe things can go back to being fucking peaceful.

The elevator ride followed by the walk to your room doesn’t take long, and you don’t attempt to conversate with Seojoon. What use is it when he’s grumpy? You give him the silence he clearly wants, even as you enter the room.

It's nice, a bit small but it will do… and it has two beds, which you wonder about. Was he suddenly averse to sharing a bed with you? Or are you the one overthinking now?

“Didn’t know it had two beds.”

Seojoon seems to read your mind, can see the unsure look on your face as you take in the space. Knows you’re overthinking. It’s the truth, when he originally rented this room he was just aiming for the nicest one they had available for the dates you’ll be here… although originally he wasn’t planning to share it with you, it doesn't make a difference.

He didn’t expect you to actually come when he invited you a while ago. But his original plans… fell through. That’s why he pushed you to come. Now it seems his original plan came to bite him in the ass anyway.

Regardless, Seojoon works on taking both of your luggage off of the cart, while you take a quick look around. There’s a tiny balcony attached, which you love. The bathroom is nicely sized, and the décor is full of weathered gold accents. Little vases, trays for your personal belongings such as keys and wallets, even the coffee pot is gold. Its very pretty, but what does gold remind you of?

You don’t even want to acknowledge it.

“So, dinner…”

Seojoon cuts your thoughts off as he finishes unloading your luggage. You had been looking out at the city from the glass door of the balcony, so you turn to face him and give him your full attention. He isn’t even looking at you as he speaks, he’s staring at his phone, clearly distracted as he types away. Probably work, you reason with yourself… although it feels off. Everything about this trip feels so fucking off and that’s not at all what you came for.

You hope after today, things feel better. Fuck, this is the last thing you need. Jungkook being here, now Seojoon being weird.

“Yeah? What were you thinking?”

You ask as you make your way to one of the beds, plop down on it and sigh, closing your eyes as you try relax your mind and your tense joints. Dinner and sleep is what you both need, and when he has time, you’re sure he’ll end up spending it with you. He’s the one who made you his girlfriend, was clearly eager for it, so why wouldn’t he?

“Mmm… there’s a restaurant in the hotel, has good reviews, maybe we can just go there for tonight.”

You nod at him, “Sounds good, we can go whenever.”

He looks at you then, finally tearing his eyes away from his phone. You don’t realize it at first, but he’s giving you the look of someone who’s judging. Because in his mind, this is a 5 star hotel, the restaurant is nice, are you really going to go in leggings and a fucking sweater?

“You aren’t gonna change?”

He asks, trying to keep his tone light, but you can hear the slight displease there. You open your eyes and try to get a read on his face. Don’t like how he’s looking at you.

“Uh… I mean, I can?”

“Great, change and freshen up then we’ll go.”

He didn’t even give you a chance to say you don’t want to change, and you were going to tell him you would prefer to be comfortable after the long flight, but clearly he isn’t having it. Clearly his ego is talking right now, and you’re not the biggest fan.

You nod anyway though, because suddenly your backbone seems to be missing, which isn’t normal. Normally you’d have no issue telling him no to something… but you start to realize you’ve become a pushover. Ever since you started seeing him, he pushes you, and when you push back he pushes harder.

It’s how you ended up going to that dinner with his friends. It's how you’re now considered his girlfriend. It’s how you ended up on this trip. It’s how you ended up getting off of the bed and silently moving towards your fucking luggage to change, despite the fact you feel like you shouldn’t have to.

It's a bit degrading, but you won’t admit that. You can chalk it up to the fact that maybe he’s right, this is a nice hotel, you should dress accordingly. Your confidence isn’t hurt, you don’t feel a little insecure.

Denial. Burying things in dirt so you don’t have to face them… something you unknowingly share in comming with Seojoon, especially lately, but that isn’t what you’re doing, you swear.

You dig through your luggage without arguing further, pull out a little black dress. Simple enough to look nice, especially if paired with some jewelry. You grab your makeup and toiletry bag as well, and then make your way into the bathroom,

“I’ll be ready in 20.” Is all you say before closing the door and locking it shut.

You’re tired, just like he is, which is why you didn’t want to be bothered by getting pretty tonight... but you do it anyway. You run your fingers through your hair, style it loosely before you work on your makeup. You do it simply, make sure your complexion is glowing, add some eyeliner and lip stain, and do some finishing touches before you get dressed.

And one very unwelcome thought crosses your mind. It’s as if a fucking bird swoops in, starts picking at the roots of your brain, or maybe planting seeds that have no business being there…

Jungkook would have never said that.

You try to brush the thought off as you put your dress on, but you just can’t. Because the fact of the matter is, Jungkook would have NEVER told you to change, no matter where you’re going. He could have invited you to the most prestige 5 star restaurant in New York, and would have been fine if you wore a fucking trash bag. Would have probably told you how pretty you are too, hell, he may have even worn one to match so you’re more comfortable.

But Seojoon isn’t Jungkook, he never will be, that’s how it should be… so why does the thought make the zap in your chest return?

You shake out your arms once the dress is on, wiggle your torso a bit, as if to physically shake such dangerous thoughts away. It’s one thing to be thinking them when he’s no where near you… but he’s fucking here. Maybe not in the same room, but he’s in this hotel. Thinking about him while simultaneously trying to avoid him is the worst thing you could do.

You look at yourself in the mirror and stare for a moment. Normally, you’re ok with how you look. You have good days and bad days, just like any woman does, but tonight in particular you’re doubting yourself. That bird that came to visit you seems cruel as it picks and prods and plants even more thoughts… What if you embarrass Seojoon?

“Y/N you almost done? I’m hungry.”

His tone is impatient, but not unkind. You are trying to be patient with him tonight, trying not to let those thoughts take hold of you or your mood considering he must just be tired. At least he snapped you out of your own troubling thoughts, but god, you wish he’d just… go back to normal. Wish he wasn't the reason for them in the first place.

“Yeah, coming.”

You call out from the bathroom, giving yourself one last once over before opening the door. As you open it, Seojoon locks his phone a bit faster than normal, but you don’t look too much into it. You’re clearly sensitive today, so is he, you can look into stuff when you aren’t feeling some type of way about every little thing.

He looks you up and down as you step out of the bathroom to grab your purse, and he nods in approval, “That’s my girl, cleaned up nice.”

You know he means it as a compliment, but it doesn’t feel like one. Feels degrading, once again… and the only time you ever liked being degraded was with—

No. Stop.

He's already changed into a button up and some slacks. He looks nice, but that’s nothing new for Seojoon considering his job. Always wearing the nicest clothing he can.

“Mhm. Ready?”

You ask as you reach into your purse, grab your perfume and spray a bit on your chest and arms before securing your purse over your shoulder, and he nods. After you slip on the only pair of heels you packed, you both make your way out of the hotel room, down the hall to the elevator which seems to be in the middle of closing right as you reach it.

That is, until a hand reaches out to stop it from closing.

A tattooed hand.

Fuck.

“Thanks, man.”

Seojoon says casually, and you damn near smack him across the head. Because in the elevator is not only Jungkook, but Sena too. How fucking ironic.

You almost want to accuse him of following you again, but you know there’s no way he was. Unless he has some sort of camera or listening device hidden in your hotel room, and honestly you wouldn’t put it past him but… you know logically, that’s impossible.

You glare at Jungkook as you enter the elevator, and turn your back to him. He doesn’t notice, because holy fuck, he’s stuck on how pretty you look.

How good you look in that dress. How good you smell. How nice your hair looks. How nice your ass looks. How you’re simply here, in the same space he is. Jesus fuck, he misses you, has half a mind to deck Seojoon in the face for existing near you.

“Where you guys headed? Dinner?”

Seojoon asks, and Jungkook nods. Sena doesn’t acknowledge anyone, although she did give Seojoon a little nod in greeting. Fuck you, you guess.

But to be fair, you don’t acknowledge them either. Because what if someone starts talking too much, and proposes everyone eats dinner together? Fuck no. You can’t handle that right now, not with Seojoon being weird and you being moody.

From then on, the elevator ride is quiet. Awkward, just as it was in the hallway. You can hear everyone breathing, although Jungkook’s breath is a bit deeper than the rest. Because he’s having a very hard time being quiet, and being stuck in this small space with you. It’s torture, really.

The ding of the elevator signals you’re on the ground floor, and you exit quicker than you meant to, which earns you an side eye from Seojoon. You just smile at him, reach over to grab his hand and drag him along, hoping he’ll take the lead because you don’t know where the fuck the restaurant is. He obliges luckily, and starts leading the way.

The restaurant isn’t too far off from the lobby, just down one of the hallways. When you enter, you notice how packed it is. Almost every table is full, and you’re hoping for a miracle because if Seojoon waits more than 15 minutes, you know his mood will get even more intolerable. Especially considering the food smells potent, delicious, it makes your stomach growl. You don’t even know what kind of food they have here, but god you’re hungry. You didn’t even eat your snack earlier.

“Welcome, table for two?”

The hostess asks, and Seojoon nods.

“Got it, it’ll be about an hour wait time before a table is ready.”

Of course.

“Seriously? What about that one over there?”

Seojoon nods to a table with four seats in the far corner.

“Ah, sorry sir, that’s reserved for groups of four, if we weren’t so busy tonight I’d gladly seat you there.”

Seojoon huffs, and starts rubbing his temples, considering leaving and going somewhere else. But leaving would mean having to drive into traffic, and every other place is probably just as busy at this hour. Room service is also an option, but it would be an even longer wait considering room service comes from the restaurant.

“We could just have dinner together?”

Surely you’re delirious from hunger and the lingering affects of benadryl.

You turn around, hadn’t even noticed there was anyone behind you, and of course it’s Jungkook and Sena. Sena is looking at him like she wants to stab him, and for the first time you’re with her on this one.

You do not want to have fucking dinner with them.

“Uh, what would the wait be then?”

Seojoon asks the hostess, and she gives him a plastic smile, “No wait, could go ahead and seat you now.”

“Ok great, then lets do it.”

Seojoon doesn’t particularly care about having dinner with them… well, not entirely. He’s just hungry, and although he didn’t say anything earlier, he didn’t want a fucking Almond Joy and Pretzels. He wants food. He can deal with Sena giving him dagger eyes and Jungkook’s annoying chatter if it means he gets to eat an actual meal.

“But Seojoon—”

“Jungkook—”

Seems you and Sena are in sync at this moment, neither of you wanting to have fucking dinner together, although for different reasons.

Sena doesn’t like you. That has been established. The last time you had dinner together, you got on her fucking nerves. She saw you as rude, and to be honest, she simply doesn’t like you. Doesn’t like you around Jungkook… or Seojoon. It’s bad enough she had to drag Jungkook here with her, now she has to share another meal with you?

You feel similarly, although you feel you’d be more justified for it. You can tell she doesn’t like you, and in your head she doesn’t have a fucking reason to be that way… or maybe she does, a voice whispers in your head. You hope she fucking doesn’t.

“Oh come on, it’s either dinner together or we wait forever. It’ll be fine.”

Ever the peacekeeper, Seojoon pipes in. You awkwardly look at him, and then back to Jungkook and Sena, and Jungkook looks like he couldn’t be happier. Because really, this is the highlight of his night. He didn’t even follow you around like a fucking dog this time, it’s just divine timing. He gets to be near you, share a meal with you… swears he won’t spill anything on Seojoon this time.

“Great! Right this way,”

The hostess cuts in, not giving anyone time to protest, most likely because there’s a line behind you and things are busy.

You begrudgingly follow the hostess to the corner where the table is, and take your seat. It’s quiet as you all sit down, and of course you sit next to Seojoon. No way are you sitting next to Jungkook.

Except he sits in front of you, which might be fucking worse. Because now you have to look at him. You have to look at those eyes which are currently shining with stars again, all because his night is turning out much better than he anticipated. Truthfully, he loathed the idea of eating dinner with Sena. She’s grumpy, always is, but is more grumpy than usual tonight. She of course guilted him into it, said it would be embarrassing if she was having dinner alone and her coworkers were there to see… which is funny to him, considering she’s the one who acted embarrassed that he came on this trip at all.

But it doesn’t matter now, because you’re here. As long as you’re here, he’s giddy. Nothing can ruin his night… other than you telling him you hate him and never want to talk to him again, but you won’t, not tonight and in front of each others partners anyway.

As you all settle in to the table, you start sifting through the menu. Make a point not to make eye contact with anyone. Seojoon flags one of the waiters, impatient as ever, orders a bottle of wine and some bread for the table.

The menu is a good distraction, as you realize it has primarily Italian dishes. Spaghetti, lasagna, chicken alfredo, carbonara, it all makes you much hungrier. Makes it easier to ignore the bearded iris practically blooming right in front of you.

“You’ll get a salad, yeah?”

Seojoon asks you, his face buried in the menu like yours. You blink at him as he asks, wondering if he’s making a joke to cut the tension. You wait for it, because you will easily look up and laugh just to make things seem normal right now.

Except he’s not joking, judging by the way he looks up from his menu expectantly. Since when did he fucking decide what you eat? It catches you so off guard that you don't know what to say.

Fuck, what is his problem?

“A salad? I haven’t had a real meal since yesterday.”

You argue weakly. Again, your backbone is missing, because today has just been awful and you’re starting to realize you don’t know how to handle Seojoon. Things seemed so perfect before he declared you his girlfriend, now it’s like… he has some sort of ownership on you.

“And? You shouldn’t be eating anything heavy this late into the evening, so you should get a salad.”

You’re bewildered when he says this, because what the fuck? You were on a plane all fucking day, what does it matter if you eat a bowl of pasta? It’s not even 8pm yet. It’d be one thing if he had a valid reason, but when have you ever ordered a salad when you went out on dates? And when has he ever ordered for you?

“And? What are you getting?”

You retort, your tone finally turning clipped because you’ve had it with him today. Ever since you landed, he’s been acting like a dick. Bossing you around, speaking to you like a child, giving you the fucking ick. Your patience is at it’s limit, you being hungry only makes it worse, and he wants to tell you to get a salad?

“I’m getting the steak, why does it matter?”

“So why can you get a steak and I have to get a salad? What’s the difference?”

“I’m a man, Y/N, and I don’t like salads.”

“Ok, and I want pasta.”

“Why are you getting an attitude right now? It was just a suggestion.”

How embarrassing, your first actual argument as a couple is in the middle of a restaurant, in a foreign country you’re visiting, in front of two people you don’t want to fucking be around. You’re shocked, because you didn’t expect him to talk to you like this, especially in front of people. A suggestion? Bullshit. He was bossing you around again, and for the first time you’re starting to actually question him. Not just his behavior today, but what the fuck did you see in him all these months? Had he done this before and you were in denial about it, but you’re finally seeing it now? Or is he switching up because of the fact he has security in your new label?

He may as well have uprooted you and put you in a pot, slapped a label on it that says Property of Seojoon with how he’s fucking acting.

“You her dietitian or her boyfriend?”

You and Seojoon both look away from each other to look at Jungkook, who looks pissed. Seojoon wouldn’t notice, because he doesn’t know Jungkook like that. But you, oh you know him, and the feathering in his jaw is all you needed to see to know he’s irritated.

Part of you wants to butt in and tell him to back off, mind his business, set those boundaries and build those protective fences you’ve been trying to since you reunited with him. You’re certain he’ll use this as an excuse to pry, maybe even try to talk you into breaking up with him… regardless of the fact you didn’t technically agree to the label Seojoon slapped on your pot, that’s what it would be; breaking up.

But the bigger part of you… almost likes it. Likes the fact that Jungkook doesn’t care that Sena is here, or Seojoon is your boyfriend, and he’s speaking up anyway. Standing up for you, much like you did at Taehyungs when Sena spoke to him like a fucking child. You’re tired of Seojoon’s attitude tonight, and clearly your backbone is too considering you’ve dealt with it all day and haven’t spoken up until now.

Seojoon looks at Jungkook like he’s an idiot, thinking to himself he can’t seriously be butting in. Who is he to butt in on this? He was just looking out for your health, but you’re so stubborn about everything. He thought Jungkook was on his side after their earlier conversation?

"Boyfriend, obviously. What, you don’t look out for Sena’s health? You’d tell her to order a salad if you knew she’d get an upset stomach.”

Speaking of Sena, she’s watching the entire thing unfold with the most bored look on her face… but her eyes glitter with amusement. She’s enjoying the fact you’re arguing with Seojoon, not as perfect as you pretended to be at Taehyungs.

“She’s not gonna get an upset stomach from eating pasta. And I don’t order for Sena anyway, she’s a grown ass woman, so is Y/N.”

Seojoon looks at you as if to encourage you to speak up, side with him, tell Jungkook to fuck off. But, you don’t, because the side of you that likes this is too prominent to do so. You just stare at Seojoon, looking at him like he’s the stupid one now, and he fucking scoffs.

“Tch. Whatever then, order pasta.”

The waiter comes then, breaking off the argument and setting the bottle of wine Seojoon ordered on the table before taking everyone’s order. You order first, choosing the chicken alfredo, which Seojoon rolls his eyes about. Jungkook orders after you, orders the same thing… and you wonder if he did that shit on purpose. Seojoon orders his steak, his tone clipped, and Sena orders a fucking salad. You almost want to laugh, wondering if she did it just to spite you, but then you remember the kale salad she brought to Taehyungs get together. So probably not.

Except she totally did, to spite you, or silently prove she’s better at listening than you, she won’t admit it. You’ll never catch on anyway.

After the food is ordered, it’s quiet at the table. Sena and Seojoon are both on their phones, as if they’re disconnecting themselves from the tension. Which is why you look at Jungkook, and almost flinch when you see he’s already looking at you. Of course he is, you’re the prettiest thing in the room. Prettiest thing in New York. Prettiest thing ever.

You both stare at each other for a moment, and then he clicks his tongue as if to say ‘I’m disappointed.’ Because he is, he finds himself wondering for the second time today how the fuck you ended up with a guy like this. Did you really like Seojoon? Or were you that desperate to forget him? What flower would Seojoon even be, if he was the one taking Jungkook’s spot in the soil next to yours?

Jungkook knows he’s not much better, he’s a certified cheater, and even Bearded Irises are poisonous, which is something not many people realize because of how pretty they are. So what about Seojoon? The picture perfect boyfriend who seemingly has no flaws, but many secrets that only Jungkook can see?

Maybe Mountain Laurel, beautiful at first glance, but can be deadly if you get too close… let them in.

Of course, you’re oblivious to this elaborate train of thought Jungkook has gone through, all you know is he is definitely questioning you. The fences you put up to keep him out are still intact, but they’re wavering, the posts aren’t as sturdy as they should be considering you aren’t even mad. You feel thankful that he’s looking out for you, which is pathetic considering it’s against your own boyfriend. You shouldn’t need your... whatever he was, to defend you like this.

But you did. And he’s here. And you’re thankful.

You laugh to yourself and duck your head, shaking it slightly, and oh Jungkook damn near fucking melts. Loves seeing you smile, hearing you laugh, even if it isn’t humorous. It unravels him, makes him stop thinking about the fact that Seojoon is clearly an even more poisonous flower than he is, makes him start thinking about how pretty of an Aster you are. Are you still an Aster, even? Did you grow into something new? Will you let him watch you grow?

Seojoon’s eyes tilted up from his phone to see what you were laughing about. Notices the way Jungkook is looking at you. It fucking irks him to his core, because in his head, you’re both laughing at him. Embarrassing him. Jungkook is looking at you as if he feels bad for you, which is a fucking joke. To him it is, anyway.

That’s when he really looks at Jungkook for the first time since he met him at Taehyungs. The lip piercing, the tattooed arm, the hair, the choice of clothes… how old is he, anyway? Dressing like a highschooler going through his emo phase, in a restaurant like this? And he thinks he can look at you with pity?

“Interesting outfit choice.”

It just sort of slips out, and Seojoon nods to Jungkook. Jungkook blinks at him, genuinely confused for a moment, and then looks down at himself.

He's wearing a baggy black shirt, some baggy sweats to go with it. Ok, yeah, he isn’t dressed to impress, especially not like Seojoon… with his stupid lux button up and perfectly ironed slacks. But they’re in a fucking hotel restaurant, they were traveling all day, what does he expect?

Is he really being petty right now? Funny, how Seojoon was comparing Jungkook to a highschooler, because Jungkook is also comparing Seojoon to a highschooler. Although not going through his emo phase, instead one of those stuck up football players that thinks everyone should kiss their fucking feet.

“Yeah? What’s wrong with it?”

Jungkook smirks when he says it, it’s cocky. Cocky because he doesn’t give a fuck what Seojoon thinks, and he feels like he’s in on a secret that Seojoon isn’t. You hate judgmental people, and you already stuck up for Jungkook once, he knows you’ll do it again. Seojoon is making such a fucking ass out of himself that Jungkook can’t even bring himself to be mad about it.

“Oh, nothings wrong with it, just didn’t think sweats were fit for a place like this.”

Seojoon laughs to himself, looks at Sena for approval because he knows damn well you won't laugh at his joke, which isn’t really a joke. And of course, Sena is now looking at Jungkook with disdain.

“I told you to change. You look like a hobo.”

“What’s wrong with looking like a hobo? They’re badass.”

“We’re in a 5 star hotel and you’re dressed like you can’t afford to get in, that’s what.”

“But I can afford to get in, so jokes on whoever thinks I can’t.”

“You’re a fucking child.”

It might be wrong of you, but you don’t feel quite as bad about you and Seojoon arguing when you hear Sena and Jungkook start to argue. Makes you feel normal. You know in the back of your mind that the way Seojoon is acting isn’t normal, nor is the way Sena is. But at this table, clearly it's normal.

“I think he looks nice.”

You mumble it quietly, looking down at the dessert menu as you say it. You don’t know why the fuck you say it, and you know you just added fuel to the fire, just encouraged Jungkook by complimenting him, no matter how subtle or vague it was. Can feel Seojoon looking at you as if you’re the stupid one now, can see Sena out of the corner of your eye looking at you like you’re dirt.

But it was worth it. Because fuck, they need to shut up. This is a disaster already, Seojoon trying to have a pissing contest with Jungkook all because he stepped in when he was being a dick.

“I do, right? Thanks.”

Jungkook says it sarcastically, but on the inside is preening. You did exactly as he thought you would, even if he’s on the other side of the fence, you’re defending him. Even said he looks nice, fuck, what a confidence boost.

You bite your lip to stifle a giggle, and Jungkook’s eyes crinkle up heavily. He doesn’t even try to hide his laugh, it’s quiet, but it’s there, and it makes you start laughing too. You both sound like children, and maybe you are both big children. Maybe that’s why you both got each other so well, compared to the prickly pair sitting next to you, who don’t find it amusing in the slightest.

Your food arrives shortly after the little giggle fit, and everyone digs in eagerly. Despite the petty bickering, everyone is hungry, and maybe food will help keep it civil. Jungkook takes it upon himself to pour everyone a glass of wine before eating, which Seojoon clearly forgot about after the back and forth. Makes sure you have the fullest glass… Makes sure Seojoon has the least full one.

You take a sip almost immediately, and the warm buzz hits you fairly quickly considering you don’t have much else in your system. It’s nice. Makes things feel less tense, although still tense. At least more bearable.

You begin eating your chicken alfredo after, and it really hits the spot. Not only for you, but Jungkook too, judging by that angry look on his face. Fuck, that’s one of the things you miss about him; you always knew the food was fucking delicious if he looked a little grumpy while eating. Like a pissed off bunny or something. It’s cute. And you shouldn’t be thinking like that.

“S’good?”

You mutter around a mouthful, unsure why you’re feeding him, metaphorically of course. Feeding him the attention he’s been trying to get from you since you both reunited. You know damn well he’ll take these crumbs and push for more, but you can’t help it. Not when he looks cute, Seojoon is being an asshole, and Jungkook is the one who's making you feel better.

This is how things get messy. Much like Jungkook when he eats, because one thing about Jungkook is he always eats well… food or not.

“So good,”

He mutters back, also around a mouthful, and you both giggle again. Seojoon is eating quietly, because he’s irritated, wants to go back to the room as soon as possible and pretend everything is fine because he sure as hell doesn’t want to argue with you again. Part of him wants to call you out for letting Jungkook talk to him like that, but he thinks better of it, doesn’t want to get on Jungkook’s bad side… not when he asked Jungkook that favor earlier.

Sena is also eating quietly, although she does look at you and Jungkook like unruly children, no one cares. You’re here to eat, and wouldn’t be sitting with them if it weren’t for avoiding an hour long wait.

There’s no small talk as you all eat your food, and you prefer it that way. It’s been a tiring day, so focusing on eating while people watching is more relaxing than pretending you like Sena, or you’re fine with how Seojoon is acting, or the fact you and Jungkook once planted a garden together but you’re pretending you didn’t.

After about 20 minutes, you’ve polished off your plate. Jungkook has been done for some time now, Seojoon is finishing up same as you. Sena is picking at her salad, barely even touched it, and she looks a bit… pale.

“I’m tired. Going back to my room. Text me if you need anything, but remember I’m booked tomorrow.”

She says as she wipes her mouth, gets up and grabs her purse. “Bills on you.”

Then she walks off, excusing herself without so as much a goodbye. You don’t mind though, because the tension comes down ever so slightly now that shes gone.

Jungkook nods, doesn’t care, was gonna pay anyway even though he knows her company should have everything covered on her end of this trip. He eyes Seojoon, who is a little too focused on his phone, face buried in it as if something urgent is happening… Mountain Laurel.

His phone starts buzzing, which is when you look at him. His brows furrow as if he’s considering answering it, and then he looks back at you. Gives you that tight lipped smile again as he reaches into his pocket, pulls out his wallet, and reaches for his credit card. Slides it to you and taps it twice.

“Work call, gonna head up to the room. Dinners on me, even if you didn’t order a salad.”

He winks. As if it’s fucking funny.

He then eyes Jungkook, and where Sena was sitting before rushing off, “Get theirs too, my treat.”

He pats your head and then gets up, nods goodbye to Jungkook, as if he just did him a huge favor offering to pay for his dinner. It pisses you off, but not Jungkook. Jungkook just fucking laughs, shakes his head, wonders if Seojoon thinks this is enough for Jungkook to keep his little secret. More like secrets, because Jungkook knows this guy is hiding something else. Still not sure exactly what it is, but he’ll find out. Will tell you when he does.

Now it’s just you and Jungkook.

Fuck, the tension drains quickly, but comes back just as fast, it’s just... different. It isn’t unpleasant, just heated in a way it only ever was with Jungkook. Like a warm summers day, the same warmth that caused you to photosynthesize over time. Made you both flourish despite the fact you had no business doing so.

“Wanna go smoke?”

He tempts you, like the devil you’re sure he is. Always fucking tempting you when he’s around, and even when he isn’t. Much like the millions of times he’s haunted your dreams over the time you’ve been apart, tempting you to reach out, to check on him, to fucking intertwine your roots again.

“Sure.”

Yet you agree anyway. Because yeah, you could use a fucking smoke. That’s all it is, and you didn’t bring yours with you.

Jungkook knew you’d say yes.

He flags the waiter then, who comes with a smile, probably anticipating a big tip which you plan on giving. Except, Jungkook beats you to it. He pulls out his card so fast it looks like he’s in a rush to be somewhere, holds out one hand toward you as if to halt you from moving, the other holding his card out to the waiter.

“I’d like to pay for these three with my card, the other is separate, can go on that card.”

He gestures to yours, Sena’s, and his plate, and then Seojoon’s as he nods to the card he left on the table.

Because Jungkook will be damned if he lets Seojoon fucking pay for your shit, but he sure as hell won’t pay for Seojoon’s. It’s petty, yeah, but Jungkook is a petty person. Clearly.

At least he didn’t spill tea on him this time… or wine, rather. He’s paying for this expensive ass wine too, by the way. Barely touched by Seojoon, Sena didn’t take a single sip of it, but you and Jungkook almost polished your glasses off.

You don’t say anything about him paying for yours, or not paying for Seojoon’s. You’ve fed him enough reactions tonight, and maybe that tiny (not so tiny) part of you that liked him speaking up on your behalf also likes the fact that he’s paying for your food. Maybe it’s the wine talking.

You begin gathering your things as you wait for the waiter to return, clean up the table a bit. It doesn’t take him long to get back with both cards. Jungkook signs his receipt, leaves a hefty tip. You sign the receipt meant for Seojoon’s card, also leave a hefty tip… it’s the least you could do. Especially if the poor waiter heard any of the bickering going on, although you’re sure he’s heard worse.

You both make your way out of the restaurant then, walking silently down the long corridors of the hotel, each step further away from the noise. Unlike earlier at the vending machine, it isn’t awkward now. It really might have something to do with the wine, always makes you a little more breezy, and as long as you're at ease, so is Jungkook. He feeds off of your energy like the plant he is.

Once you get to the back exit of the hotel, Jungkook holds the door open for you. You walk out and take a deep breath; New Yorks air isn’t the freshest, but it’s nice. Different. Not as suffocating as being around Seojoon was today.

Jungkook leans against the wall as he digs into the pocket of his sweats, pulls out a pack of cigarettes. They look new, which means he got them sometime today. You vaguely wonder if he’s been smoking more since… well, since you both wilted.

He offers you one first, but when you reach to grab it, he pulls it out of reach. You huff at him, wondering why he’s suddenly taking it back, wondering if maybe this was just a ploy to get you alone.

“Say ‘Ah,’”

Yeah. Maybe wine was a bad fucking idea.

You glare at him, and he starts grinning like an idiot, that shit eating grin of his every time he does something mischievous is ever present on his pretty lips. He knows he’s pushing it, but he’s only joking of course… friends joke around. He wants to be your friend. That’s all.

Too tired and done with tonight to argue, and against your better judgment, you open your mouth for him. And oh fuck, he didn’t actually expect you to do it. He expected you to swat at him and call him an asshole, maybe even walk back inside. Not open your mouth for him like you used to when he’d ask… under much different circumstances of course, which dredges up memories that are disastrous considering he’s wearing fucking sweatpants.

He clears his throat and swiftly puts the cigarette in your mouth, flicks his lighter and lights the cigarette for you. Looks away as he puts his own cigarette in his mouth and lights it, one hand covering the flame as his cigarette ignites. Ignores the fact that it's trembling slightly.

You both puff on your cigarette in silence, taking in the city before you. Its liveky, even at this time of night, especially then. People passing the sidewalks, lovers holding hands as they walk, taxis zooming past. It’s oddly peaceful.

“You look pretty.”

Was peaceful, until he opened his stupid mouth and ruined it. Made your heart skip a beat.

You glance at him as you blow smoke out of your mouth, flicking the end of your cigarette, picking at it after. You want to ignore it, but you also don’t want to make it awkward again… ok, and maybe the wine made his words feel a lot more fuzzy than you’d normally allow. Butterflies covered in crimson.

“Mmm. Thanks.”

You mumble, look away from him, try to focus back on the nightlife.

“You have plans tomorrow?”

He asks, no longer leaning on the wall. You haven’t even noticed it, but ever since he lit his cigarette he’s been slowly inching towards you. A little shift of his feet here and there, could be seen as accidental, but it isn’t. He promised himself he’d calm down around you, wouldn’t be so pushy… and after tonight, he knows Seojoon is pushy enough, you don’t need another man being an idiot towards you.

But he can’t help himself. Just wants to feel your warmth, if he can’t touch you, he’ll get close. Play it off. He can’t help the way he fucking vibrates out of his skin near you. It’s always been that way, but the fact that things are different now, and he can’t touch, it makes it so much fucking worse.

You shrug at him, because truthfully you didn’t have plans. You’re kind of stunted on what to do considering Seojoon is going to be busy most of the day, if not the entire day, and you didn’t exactly have time before coming to plan out any activities. You were hoping Seojoon would show you around, take you to do something fun, but clearly that isn’t going to happen.

“Dunno. Maybe go to a museum or something. Wanna see Central Park too…”

You’ve never been the biggest fan of museums, but they’re a default answer when traveling. You know they have a lovely botanical garden, remember seeing one of your friends post about it on Instagram once on vacation. And of course, the cliché answer, Central Park. You really do want to go though, mark it off your bucket list.

Going alone seems intimidating.

“You know… we could go together. I know the area sort of, been here a few times.”

He proposes lightly, as if it isn’t a big deal, shrugs after and flicks his cigarette. Watches the ashes fall to the ground. It is a big deal though, because fuck, he wants to do these things with you. Wants to see you get excited about all the cool things here, or even irritated at the crowded environment. Wants to be the one to stare at you, only you, in a place with thousands of bodies.

Because you’ll be the most interesting thing there is. The prettiest flower amongst thousands of flower turned people.

You shrug again, because you aren’t sure what to say. You’ve finally noticed how close he is, so close you’d have to look up at him to see his face, which you completely avoid doing. It makes it hard to say no, hard to say yes, hard to say anything at all. He’s fucking suffocating and he isn’t even doing anything.

Suffocating in a way you don’t hate at this moment.

“I dunno. Maybe—”

“As friends.”

His voice is low, quiet, and he steps even closer, but this time it’s deliberate. Not quite nose to nose, but almost. His bulky figure blocks everything else around you, making it impossible to focus on anything other than him. Fuck, he smells good, still wears the same cologne. He’s too fucking close. If you were to kiss him, which you fucking won’t, all you’d have to do is tip toe up to him. Press your lips to his.

His jaw feathers again, although this time it isn’t out of irritation. He won’t admit what it is, neither of you will, because you know what it is. You know what that look means, that heavy looks he gets, similar to the one at the dinner table at Taehyung’s. He wants to reach out so fucking bad. Even drops his cigarette without realizing it as his fingers twitch with the urge to touch. Fuck, he wants to touch so bad.

“Friends don’t look at each other like this.”

You mutter, and want to look away, but can’t. Not when he’s this close. Part of you doesn’t want to. You can almost feel it, his roots digging into the soil, under the protective fence you’ve put around yourself. Reaching for your roots, damn near touching them, igniting something that you swore you wouldn’t let be ignited again. Not as long as he’s married, if ever again at all.

All because he got too fucking close.

And he knows what he’s doing. No, he’s not being as pushy, but he knows he’s poisonous. You have to make sure you’re wearing a long sleeved shirt when handling iris, gloves too, otherwise your skin will become irritated, remnants of touching something you shouldn’t be fucking touching will be left. And unfortunately, you’re wearing a short sleeved dress, and you damn sure don’t have gloves on.

“Sometimes they do.”

He murmurs, his eyes dancing across your face, taking in details he feels he took for granted before. Thinks you’re the prettiest woman, person, flower, garden, planet he has ever seen. Wishes he could tattoo your face on his frontal lobe, make you the center of his existence again. Because that’s what you were, even if he went about it wrong.

He was a coward. Was, being the key word. He’d do just about anything for you now that he has you back, even minutely.

“But they don’t,”

You retort weakly. But it’s the truth, friends have no business looking at each other the way Jungkook is looking at you right now. Like he wants to eat you, kiss the ground you walk on, snatch you up and take you somewhere far away from here where no one can take you from him. And you aren’t innocent either, you’re looking at him similarly. It’s the wine, you swear.

Look, don’t touch.

He reaches out, grabs a piece of your hair and twirls it around his finger, plays with it for a second before tugging it. It makes your eyelashes flutter, your breath hitch a bit. It’s childish in a way, fucking devious in another. But you’ve given him enough reactions tonight, so you slightly tug your head away from him, your hair falling from his fingers like a leaf falling from a tree in autumn. Fucking tragic.

“Unblock me, Y/N. Just while we’re here, can block me again when we’re in Seoul.”

He tries to reason with you, but fuck he hopes after this trip you’ll choose to leave him unblocked. Fate has been on his side thus far, and he hopes to whatever higher power above it doesn’t stop here. Hopes this is the place where you’ll come together again, where you’ll start to bloom again, even if it’s in a different way.

You swallow hard before responding, starting to get cotton mouth much like you do after you’ve had a bad dream. The same dreams that normally consist of him adorned in wilting petals, vanishing right before you… and the thought of him vanishing right now, of this being another bad dream, it almost makes you panic. You realize how much you don’t want that to happen.

You get that zapping sensation in your chest again, and idly wonder if you need to see a doctor.

“I’ll consider it.”

You already did. You’re gonna unblock him as soon as you get in your hotel room.

You flick your cigarette on the pavement, and it lands crisscross with his. Might be a bad omen, or a sign of good luck, you aren’t sure.

He leans down impulsively, this time he actually is nose to nose with you, although he isn’t sure why. In a perfect world, you’d wrap your arms around his neck, kiss him like you’ll die without him, then let him carry you up to his hotel room where he’d do ungodly things to you. But he knows that won’t happen, that sort of thought should be saved for the shower.

Funnily enough, you’re daydreaming about doing that exact thing. You catch yourself quickly, push at his chest.

“I should get back up before Seojoon thinks I ran off with his credit card.”

You mutter as you reach into your purse, pull out your bottle of perfume and douse yourself in it, completely ignoring whatever fucked up heated moment you just had. Because although Jungkook fills you with warmth, even a flower can get too much sun, and you were starting to burn up.

Bury that moment in the fucking dirt where it belongs.

“Dick.”

It's quiet, you almost don’t hear it over the sound of cars passing and people chattering, but you hear it.

“Be nice, Koo.”

It sort of just comes out, naturally, as if it’s second nature to you. It used to be, what feels like a fucking lifetime ago, although it wasn’t that long ago. But you know you fucked up, can tell by his wide eyed stare, the way his cheeks tinge ever so slightly pink, the way his Adams apple bobs.

It's like a dog hearing their owner call their name after being away for too long. He both loves and hates the way his stomach forms into knots. Needs to fucking leave before he does something stupid like grabbing you and kissing you stupid in front of all these people.

He shifts slightly, having to adjust himself before the evidence in his pants shows how fucking desperate he still is for you. Feels pathetic for it, honestly, you didn’t even do anything sexual and his dick is happy.

“Yeah yeah, goodnight Y/N, unblock me or I’ll break into your hotel room and do it myself. Oh, and if Seojoon bitches about the smoke, blame me.”

He walks off then, smiling that smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, disappearing behind the back exit of the hotel. He fucking rushed off because you flustered him, and you hate yourself for feeling disappointed, but you’re also a little embarrassed. Calling him Koo was inappropriate, you shouldn’t have done it. It just happened, and it almost scares you how easy it seems to fall into old habits.

But you also find yourself giggling, because you wouldn’t doubt hid ability to break into your room. Can picture it perfectly, him sneaking in, snooping through your phone, and unblocking his number. He’d probably take a selfie and make it your wallpaper too.

Fuck. You don’t want to miss him.

You shiver, feel a bit cold, decide to go inside as well. Almost expect him to be behind the door when you open it, but he isn’t there.

He needed to get the hell away from you, so he fucking booked it to the elevator. Already ahead enough that you won’t run into him again tonight.

By the time you get back to the hotel room, you can feel yourself getting way too fucking tired. The wine, mixed with your exhausting day, you’re surprised you’re even alive at this point. And Seojoon is already asleep on one of the beds, right in the fucking middle of it, his face smooshed into a pillow as he sleeps like he’s dead.

He's taking up the entire fucking bed. And maybe it should tell you something, the way you’re comforted knowing you have an excuse to sleep in the other one.

You quickly go about doing your night routine; take off your makeup, change into some nighties, and brush your hair and teeth. You’ll shower in the morning, far too tired to do it now. If Seojoon makes a comment about the smoke, you’ll absolutely blame Jungkook.

But you have a feeling you won’t be awake to see Seojoon before he leaves.

Once you’re finally ready for bed, you plug in your phone charge beside the night stand, and flop down on the bed. You’re so ready to fall asleep, get this day over with and try to salvage the trip by doing something fun tomorrow… but you can’t fall asleep.

Not until you scratch the itch to unblock Jungkook.

Only for this trip, like he said. After you can block him again, avoid him again. But he’s not wrong, you’ve never been here, and if you need something you doubt Seojoon will be of any use… it’s for safety, security or whatever.

Of course it is.

So you unblock him. You find his number easily, hit the unblock button, and when you go to set his name in your phone you damn near set it as Koo. Catch yourself. Set it to Jungkook instead.

And right as you hit save, you receive a text.

Déjà vu, because you fall asleep with a fucking smile on your face much like you won’t admit you did when he dmed you on Instagram.

You don’t get the most restful sleep, never do when in an unfamiliar place, but luckily you don’t have any dreams. You were a bit nervous about falling asleep after the heated exchange with Jungkook outside… thought you’d have another dream of him wilting. Or worse, a dream about him touching and kissing you like you thought about last night. Fuck, you need to make sure not to drink anymore wine around him.

When you wake up, the room is quiet. You glance at the tableside clock and see it’s already 10am, surprised you slept so long considering you also slept such a long time on the plane. But jet lag is a bitch, you needed the sleep.

And of course, Seojoon is gone. Theres a note on the table that reads ‘Busy day, text you when I’m done, got you some tea. <3’

His note already seems much more chipper than he was yesterday, and you feel more at ease with that. Maybe he isn’t as much of an asshole as you were starting to think, he just needed some rest… although you definitely need to have a conversation about how pushy he is, you can save that for after the trip. Don’t want to ruin it anymore.

Stretching as you lean up out of the bed, you grab your phone. And fucking of course he already texted you.

You aren’t smiling. Have no reason to be, not at him. Absolutely not.

You are.

You don’t text him back right away, instead you torture yourself. Sit on it a bit. Slowly sip on the lukewarm tea in the shitty plastic cup Seojoon made you this morning, courtesy of the complimentary tea and coffee station across the room. You still hesitate on doing anything with Jungkook, especially after last night. Because yes, you can blame the wine, but there’s no wine in your system right now, and you still feel a fluttering sensation in your stomach when you think about it. So you know its fucking dangerous, like walking in a field full of land mines. One wrong move and you’re both fucked.

You take a quick shower, hoping the warm water will wake you up some more, give you some clarity, but it doesn’t do much… although, the more you think about it, the more spending the day with Jungkook doesn’t seem so bad. Otherwise you’d be alone, have no idea what to do or where to go, and Jungkook knows the area. You’d be safe with him, and although you acted like it before, you don’t hate him… despite the heat and tension last night, it was actually fun spending time with him again.

As friends. Just while you’re in New York… you’ll go.

After hopping out of the shower and wrapping yourself in a towel, you text him back.

God, he’s so excited he can barely contain himself, you can practically see him fidgeting through the damn screen, eager to get out of his expo and be with you instead.

You shake your head to yourself, don’t fight the smile this time. Maybe you can be friends. Maybe it isn’t impossible like you kept telling yourself. Fuck, you’re even a little excited, foolishly feel like a weight is lifted off of your shoulders now that you can be in public, without hiding, as friends.

It won’t be complicated this time, you promise yourself that.

You promise.

You finish off your tea and begin getting ready. You let your hair air dry as you throw on some makeup, nothing too heavy, just enough to cover the subtle dark circles and make yourself feel a little prettier. Which is funny, yesterday you wore more makeup than you are right now, yet ypu felt so unsure of yourself. The simple face that you’ll be with Jungkook makes you feel more secure; you could have dirt smeared all over your face and he’d still think you’re pretty.

Not that it matters. It totally doesn’t. Just a comforting thought.

After your makeup, you sift through your clothes. You didn’t bring a lot considering you’re only here for a few days, and decide to wear one of the dresses you brought. It isn’t as fancy as the one you wore last night, more breathable, cozy and comfy. Sage in color with a milkmaid style top, so it’s cute and comfy. Since it might be cooler, you pair it with some sheer stockings. Your purse will be enough to hold things, and of course you already know what jacket you’re bringing. The same one you’ve been wearing for over six months now.

After getting dressed and fussing over your hair, you’re ready. Check your purse and make sure you have everything; wallet, keycard, lip stain, pepper spray… polaroid camera gifted by an iris... girly things.

You try not to check the time too eagerly, but when you do finally check it, it’s 11:45. Time flew by faster than expected, but you’re not mad at it. You’re glad, because you’re excited as fuck to explore New York… has nothing to do with the fact you’re spending the day with your former favorite person.

You make your way down to the lobby shortly after, fully expecting to have to wait half an hour for Jungkook to get there, which you didn’t mind. The lobby has a seating area, and a large tv that plays movies 24/7, so you wouldn’t have minded waiting in there while googling things to do in New York, what museums they might have.

Except when you get down to the lobby, he’s already there. He hadn’t expect you to be early, which is why he left the expo early. He saw what he needed to see, spoke to who he needed to speak to, exchanged information with people who were interested in his work or future collaborations. Saw no issue with leaving early, and quite frankly as soon as you agreed to come, he was doing just as you said he would; fidgeting and unable to sit fucking still because he wanted to get to you.

He looks at you as you walk up, immediately notices the familiar jacket you're carrying... loves that you still wear his shit. But his train of thought is cut off because he can already tell you’re gonna make some comment about him being clingy, so he cuts you off.

“Guess we’re both early.”

He gets out of the chair he was sitting in and hands you the treats he brought; a frappe from a local coffee house, paired with a cinnamon roll the size of your head. Not the healthiest, but who fucking cares? If anything, after Seojoon’s stupid fucking demand for you to eat a salad last night, he wants to spoil you with junk food today. He’ll get you lunch before you can get a sugar crash anyway.

“For you, this coffee house is my fav here. Makes the best frappes.”

You nod and take the treats, take a sip of the frappe and nearly moan at how good it is. Perfectly sweet, almost like a milkshake. You can only imagine how good the cinnamon roll is, it’s still the slightest bit warm inside it’s paper wrapper.

“Thanks.”

“You ready? Picked out a museum to go to, think you’ll like it. Has a bunch of artsy shit.”

“Sounds fun, lets go.”

He nods at you, and fights the urge to grab your hand, instead walking in front of you so you can follow. Meanwhile, you’re thankful for the distraction of the pastry and drink in your hand, otherwise you may have been the one to grab his.

He hails a taxi easily, would have driven but Sena took the rental car they got… and he could have gotten another, but figured you’d enjoy the experience of a New York taxi. He’s right of course, always is with you. Knows what you like and don’t like. Knows you’d fucking hate the subway, but might get a bit giddy at being in a taxi.

He spouts off an address at the taxi driver, who nods and politely asks you to put on your seatbelt. You take this time to munch on your cinnamon roll, careful not to get any crumbs on the car seats. It goes perfectly with the frappe, the flavors are warm and sweet when mixed together.

Familiar. Reminds you of something.

“S’good?”

Jungkook asks, has been watching you this entire time like a creep. Likes watching you eat, feels full when he does. Feels proud knowing he did a good job at picking something yummy for you to munch on.

“Very,”

You mumble and wipe some of the glaze from the corner of your mouth, your eyes find him as you do so. “Want a bite?”

Jungkook had already gotten himself an Americano and donut at the coffee house, so he isn’t particularly hungry, but… if he takes a bite, that would mean his mouth indirectly touches yours. Like a kiss. You don’t have to know that’s what he’s thinking, maybe it’s creepy in the same way he was watching you fucking eat, but you don’t have to know. Just a silly little thought.

“Sure.”

He opens his mouth, beckoning you to feed him. You weren’t planning on it, you were going to tear him off a piece, maybe offer him half of it, but not fucking feed him. Yet here he is, his mouth open like a baby fucking bird. You roll your eyes at him, but he doesn’t close his mouth. Just looks at you expectantly.

So you reluctantly bring the cinnamon roll to his mouth, and he takes a bite off of the piece you had bitten off of, despite the fact you aimed an untouched part at his mouth. You scoff at him and pull away,

“Now I’m gonna get your cooties.”

“You already have my cooties.”

You don’t need the fucking reminder.

“Friends don’t talk like that,”

You argue with him, taking a big bite of the cinnamon roll to busy your mouth and your wandering mind. Because yeah, you do in fact have his fucking cooties, all over you. And how you got them makes the inside of the taxi heat up a bit. Fuck him for bringing that up.

“Yes they do, I’ve kissed my friends before. Kissed Namjoon’s cheek once.”

You roll your eyes and look out the window, but find yourself smiling at the thought of Jungkook kissing his friends cheek. Find it funny how he’s trying to make it seem like his relationship with the boys is the same as you two. Almost wanna fight back and ask him if he fucked them too, just to see him sputter over his words, or maybe get that needy look in his eyes.

But you don’t. That would be crossing the line. You’ve already dangerously teetered those lines, you don’t need to get any closer to blurring them. Because once a line is drawn in dirt, it is so fucking easy to just step over it and make it disappear.

“Whatever.”

You say after swallowing your bite, washing it down with a sip of your frappe. The rest of the ride is peaceful, a bit quiet. Jungkook doesn’t want to overload you by talking too much, trying to keep his promise to himself and you to chill the fuck out. Knows you’ll enjoy the scenery of the city anyway, especially during daytime. It’s also gorgeous at night, which he plans on showing you later on. To some, New York may be ugly, but he knows you’ll find the beauty in it. He occasionally pipes in of course, pointing out different stores and restaurants he knows little facts about or thinks you’ll like, but he doesn’t push it beyond that.

He's right of course, watching the tall buildings pass as you make your way through lunch traffic is pretty cool. Watching the people walking, there’s so many different faces here, it’s easy to get caught up in watching everything pass by. It’s like watching life unfold, and you wonder what some of these people are like. You see some business men, you wonder if they’re married and happy, or alone and living paycheck to paycheck. You see a mom with her daughter, and you wonder where the dad is, if he’s present at all. You also see an old couple, and you know they’re happy, at peace, can tell by the way they look at each other.

Wonder if all of these people were flowers, what kind would they be? Or would they be something else entirely, are you and Jungkook the only ones in this fucked up metaphor between human and plant?

Before you know it, the taxi halts. You were so caught up in people watching, you didn’t realize the time pass by. In reality, the museum wasn’t too far from the hotel, only a couple of blocks away. But still, you weren’t really paying attention.

Jungkook pays the taxi driver with cash and hops out of the car, holds his hand out to take your cinnamon roll wrapper as you follow him. You hand it to him, and he’s pleased to see it’s mostly empty, other than a small piece at the bottom.

When you get out, you stretch a bit, and finish off your frappe. Follow him to a nearby trash bin to throw it away, and then look up to see which museum he picked, assuming it’s an art museum of some sort.

And holy fuck, you freeze. Because yes, it is technically an art museum, but what the fuck was he thinking?

“Jungkook what the fuck?”

“Huh?”

He asks, blissfully unaware of your sudden mood change at first, dusting his hands off on his jeans before looking at you. Almost flinches when he sees the offended look on your face.

“You fucking with me?”

You ask, because you can’t seem to grasp why he thought this was a good idea. Start to wonder if he had an ulterior motive in taking you here, or if he’s just a fucking dumb ass.

He looks up then, genuinely confused by your reaction. Truthfully, Jungkook didn’t do any research on museums here. Sure, he knows of a few, but he also knows Yoongi has been to New York a lot. Yoongi comes here for work and pleasure, has been to every museum there is, probably every restaurant too, so he asked him for recommendations.

Blindly fucking trusted him when all he gave was an address and a text that said ‘you’ll both love it.’

Jungkook feels his cheeks heat up when he reads the sign, reaches up to fidget with his lip ring. Tugs on it a bit, because he fucking knows this looks bad on him. Wants to throttle Yoongi, fucking will when he gets back home.

“Y/N I swear to god I didn’t know, I asked Yoongi for recommendations and he told me to come here, I didn’t know it’d be… this.”

Your first instinct is to accuse him of lying, but you stop yourself when you see him worrying at his lip ring. He’s nervous, and fuck it makes you feel guilty. You shouldn’t feel guilty, he’s the one who promised you a fun day and dragged you to the most sinful museum maybe fucking ever. You’re adults, sure, but you have history, and things are supposed to be platonic…

But he isn’t lying and you don’t want him to be nervous.

“Well you should have checked or something.”

You mutter weakly, reaching for his hand and pulling it away from his lip ring. Touching him. Making him turn stupid for a second.

“Sorry. Let’s go somewhere else, I’ll look real quick—”

“No, lets just… try it. We’re adults, maybe it’s fun.”

You try to sound enthusiastic, but you’re nervous too. You can be mature about it, but it’s the premise of it; here with a man who haunts your dreams, sometimes makes them wet... it’s dangerous. Fuck, it’s all so dangerous with him.

Or maybe you’re just a fucking masochist.

He eyes you wearily, doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable, but also… he is a bit intrigued, he can’t lie.

“I’m sure, shut up, lets go.”

You grab his hand, preventing him from asking anymore questions. You’re adults, you repeat to yourself. You can be mature about this, and you’re sure friend groups come here all the time. Couples too… ok, probably mainly couples, but still. It could be fun.

You begin dragging him inside, and suddenly he doesn’t fucking care where you are, where you’re taking him, whether or not it’ll be awkward. Because you’re holding his hand. Touching him. He’ll do whatever you want. Even if it means going into the Museum of Sex with his ex lover.

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