Ruin the Friendship (M)
Pairing: You / Jungkook
Rating: 18+ (explicit sex)
Warnings: (oral, dirty talk, body worship)
Word Count: 8,062
Summary: your drunk ass best friend keeps calling you to take care of him and it wouldn’t be so awful, if it weren’t for The Feelings. (best friends to lovers!AU)
“Y/N!” a voice yells the second you enter the bar.
Music thumps through the room, hazy with the scents of sweat and alcohol – you wind your way towards the back, having difficulty seeing where you are going. People continue to bump into you, drinks nearly spilling at least two or three times on the way.
"Ah!” you yelp when someone steps on your toes. Scowling angrily, you glare at a stiletto-ed freshman. “Watch where you’re going,” you snap. In response, they giggle and drunkenly lope towards the bar.
Pushing hair away from your neck, you exhale, since you have only been here five minutes and already find yourself sweating. Continuing onward, you rise up on tiptoe because these people are not the reason you are here, the reason you are here is –
“Y/N!” Jungkook crows, nearly knocking you over in his haste to get closer. He buries his face in your shoulder, wrapping both arms around you while lifting you off of your feet. Jungkook’s breath is hot, smelling of tequila and mint; you groan at his antics, struggling to right yourself when he sets you back down.
“Jeon,” you bemoan, turning to face him.
Jungkook pushes a hand through his hair. “You came,” he announces, a giant grin plastered over his face.
Truly, the happiest people in this world are babies and drunk assholes.
“Yes, Jeon,” you sigh, tapping the screen of your phone. “Shall I read our exchange? You texted, ‘Hey, Y/N,’” you quote, scrolling through his messages, “’what shot should I do?’ Me: ‘uh, idk.’ You: ‘pick oneee’ Me: ‘ha u drunk already, kook?’ You: ‘I picked tequila’” Grinning, you look up at him. “Except you didn’t spell it tequila, you wrote ‘tewoya.’”
“Te-wo-ya.” Jungkook tests this version out. “Sounds… bitchin’.”
“Bitchin’?”
“Yeah. Cowabunga.”
“Lord,” you groan, as Jungkook cracks himself up. “O-kay,” you say, sliding one arm around his waist. “I think that’s enough of Drunkkook for tonight.”
“Drunkkook,” Jungkook repeats, happily draping himself over your shoulders. “Thanksforcomingtopickmeup, Y/N.”
“No problem.”
Grumbling, you make your way towards the door. Jungkook’s feet drag behind you, taking long, exaggerated steps to match your stride.
“Y/N,” he whispers, breath tickling your ear, “your legs are so…”
“Hot?” you supply, juggling his weight to push open the door. “Shapely? Toned?”
“Short.”
“Yep,” you say, shoving into the night. “There it is.”
“Hey, JEON!” someone yells and Jungkook glances up, nearly smacking your head to peer into the bar.
“Ow! Kook!” you complain, while he searches the crowd.
“What?” Jungkook yells, craning his neck towards the noise.
He finds the source near the pool tables; two dark-haired guys waving energetically goodbye. “SEEYA!” Hoseok yells, while Seokjin snickers into his cup. “HAVE A GOOD NIGHT WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND!”
Jungkook’s mouth drops but before he can respond, you spring into action to yank him fast out the door. “Let’s go,” you demand, nearly tripping over a heat lamp in the process. “My apartment is only a block away, Jeon. Let’s go there.”
"Alright,” he pouts, mumbling something incoherent while he allows himself to be pulled. Placing his hand in yours seems like the most logical option – Jungkook does not seem to mind, trotting obediently behind you down the length of the Ave. The street is busy. Not as crowded as inside the bar but still, it necessitates a fair amount of winding on your part. It takes all your concentration just to make it to your front door, which means there is no time to contemplate the drunk nonsense his friends were spouting.
Jungkook, your boyfriend – unlikely.
Jungkook has been a steady fixture in your life for years. It is hard to remember when, exactly, your friendship began. High school was the first time you saw him – in all of Jungkook’s defensive, hockey star glory – but the first time you spoke was freshman year of University. Jungkook plopped into the seat beside you in Econ and you did a double take, not having realized he attended this school.
Perhaps you should have. In hindsight, it would have made more sense for you to have known, given all the scholarship attention Jungkook received senior year. It was not a priority for you though, you two had barely ever spoken and for him to accept a scholarship anywhere was not a blip on your radar.
Enter Econ 101. You noticed Jungkook in the same way you notice a lot of things – seeing them without really caring. Trees you pass on the street, buildings beside the one that you enter. Jeon Jungkook was like that to you, just another piece of scenery – until he reached out and tapped you on the shoulder.
“Yes?” you blinked, looking up. “Can I help you?”
He must have come straight from practice, since he was still dressed head to toe in athletic apparel – you rolled your eyes, since Jungkook clearly wanted you to know he was an athlete. The situation was made worse by the fact that you did know who he was, but not from college – from high school. Even worse than that, Jungkook did not seem to remember you at all.
He slouched low in his chair, arching a brow. “Yeah. Can I borrow a pencil?”
It was the worst pick-up line you had ever experienced. The sleaze factor was at an all-time high; Jungkook sat there with one eyebrow cocked, his right arm draped over the back of his chair. His legs were man-spread, as though waiting for someone to sit. Jungkook looked slightly bored, as though he were expecting a reaction.
He got one, all right – just not the one he was hoping for. “Are you serious?” you snorted, looking down at your notes. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Uncertainty flickered across his expression. “I – no? I really need a pencil.”
“Sure,” you said, nodding at his gym bag. “Whatever sports gear you have in there tends to become obsolete in the classroom. Maybe next time you should bring a bookbag if you want to take notes.”
That said, you resumed writing and Jeon Jungkook stared, confused by your response. He did not stay silent for long, leaning over to tap you again on the arm.
“Yes?” you responded, looking sideways.
Jungkook scowled. “There’s no need to be rude, you know.”
“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “You and I both know what you’re doing.”
“Oh?” Jungkook crossed both arms over his chest – it caused his muscles to bulge at the action, which was thoroughly distracting. “And what, exactly, am I doing?”
“You’re being an ass.”
“Oh?” Jungkook nearly choked on his laughter. “By asking you for a pencil? Sure.” He nodded, waving a hand. “Alert the media. Jeon Jungkook is on the loose! Ravaging nearby neighbors for pencils, oh no!”
“Save it,” you huffed, turning forward. “It wasn’t what you said, it was how you said it.”
Most of his surprise had disappeared by this point – most of his confusion, too – leaving Jungkook simply curious. “How did I say it?” he asked, as if he genuinely cared.
Chewing on your lower lip, you debated how honest to be before deciding full-frontal.
“Like you wanted me to sit on your dick,” you said, swiveling to face him. “Your legs were spread wide enough when you asked.”
Jungkook’s brows shot up. “Shit,” he exhaled, chuckling to himself. “Wow…”
When he faced forward and said nothing more, uncertainty began to enter your thoughts. “Was I wrong?” you asked, peering at him. Strangely, you found yourself interested in his response.
A smile played at his lips and he offered a shrug. “No, you were right.”
When Jungkook admitted it, you grinned. “See? I was right not to give you my pencil.”
“Maybe.” Jungkook shrugged, tapping the edge of your desk. “But what about your name?”
Though you would never admit it (Jungkook seemed cocky enough as it was), your heart raced when he asked you. He was cute, charming but despite this (or perhaps because of this), you drew a hard line in the sand when it came to him. He was was clearly a fuckboy – that much became obvious during the first campus party you attended.
A few weeks into the school year, Jungkook, for whatever reason (pity, interest or other) decided to invite you to a party. The thought excited you, but from the minute you arrived to the moment you left, the two of you barely spoke. It was hours before you even saw him and even then, it was just a quick, “Hey, you came!” before Jungkook was pulled in the opposite direction to play beer pong.
You were alone the rest of the night, which is how you met Taehyung. Taehyung was older than you, uninterested in freshman games (drinking, or otherwise), and the two of you talked for hours until he walked you home and gave you a soft kiss goodnight at your dorm.
Taehyung was your boyfriend for most of freshman and sophomore year, until a mutual breakup occurred which maybe you should have seen coming. Taehyung was more of a free spirit, he did not like to be tied down and you liked knowing where things were headed. You liked making choices around your significant other and knowing they were taking you into consideration as well. It was not a bad breakup, not in the nastiest sense of the word – no one cheated, or anything, but the removal of Taehyung from your life was crushing. It left you half-empty for the better part of the summer.
Strangely enough, Jungkook became the one that you turned to. He was always there as a friend before that, but a friend with strict boundaries. Taehyung did not like him, for reasons he never revealed and Jungkook liked to joke that the only reason you two were together was because to him – you went to that party for Jungkook after all, which led to the two of you coupling. He stopped making those jokes once the two of you broke up.
Jungkook was the first person you called the night that it happened.
Taehyung left your apartment around dinnertime. He took with him his keys, his memories and once you heard the door slam, you collapsed onto the couch. The tears which followed were brutal, overflowing until you shakily lifted a hand to dial Jungkook's number.
“Y/N?”
He answered on the second ring, other voices loud in the background and dimly, you recalled it was Friday night – Jungkook was probably out and you were interrupting his fun. “Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, voice thick with your tears. “You’re out – don’t let me bother you. G’ni –”
“Y/N,” Jungkook interrupted, his voie sounding strained. “What’s going on? You sound weird.”
“I – well, Taehyung and I broke up.”
The line was silent for so long, you thought maybe he had not heard and your stomach sunk at the thought of having to repeat the sentence. Then, Jungkook swore, muttering something you did not quite catch under his breath.
“I’m coming over,” he announced, hanging up the phone.
Despite wanting to protest – he was clearly at a party; this was in no way his problem – the reason you called became clear the moment Jungkook walked through your door. You remember looking up from the couch, tears still staining your cheeks but some of the pain simply faded from him being there. It was strange. You did not know when Jungkook stopped being that guy from your high school, the dick from your econ class and instead became someone tangible. Someone necessary, a life firmly interwoven with yours.
He arrived later than you thought he would, but the reason soon became apparent when Jungkook held up Five Guys and tequila. “Had to make a pit stop,” he explained, shrugging out of his jacket.
You remember thinking he looked out of place, standing in your hall awkwardly clutching both tequila and burgers – you moved to help him, to tell Jungkook you were fine but instead of doing either, you burst into tears.
“Shit,” Jungkook muttered, dropping the packages and collapsing onto your couch. “Hey,” he exhaled, pulling you towards him. “It’s okay, Y/N. Just cry it out. I’m here.”
He stayed over that night and when you eventually stopped crying, the tequila was opened – you do not remember much after that, until the next morning.
You woke up precariously; that is the best way to describe it. One eye cracked open, then the other – both widening, when you saw your face inches away from the floor. Jungkook grumbled, turning into the cushions and he pulled the blanket with. You yelped when he moved, tumbling onto the ground.
It did not hurt, so much as it knocked the wind from your lungs – but you lay there like that, staring at his right hand dangling over the edge of the sofa. It was a struggle to piece together the events of the night, bits and pieces floating around in the alcohol. You remembered Jungkook laughing, pouring you shot after shot. One, for how Alienating Taehyung could be; another, for how Bizarre his choices in movies were; a third, for his Cantankerous responses to text messages in the morning.
Each letter of the alphabet got a reason, each letter received a sip of tequila and by the time you reached Q, you were both dissolved into giggles. “This is from Gilmore Girls,” you gasped, remembering where you had seen this before. “Lorelai and Christopher play this game after his dad dies, and – oh my god!” you shrieked, grabbing Jungkook’s cheeks and smushing them with your palms. “Are you a Gilmore Girls fan?”
“No!” Jungkook protested. He huffed when you booped his nose. “My mom just watched that show a lot when I was little... she... ah... FINE! IT’S A FUCKING AMAZING SHOW, AND SHE SHOULD’VE LEFT LOGAN FOR JESS!”
Things started to fade after that, but you vividly remembered the moment before you went to sleep. Jungkook was slumped in your cushions and you climbed up beside him, wrapping both arms eagerly around the breadth of his chest. He did not protest, body curling around yours to reach a hand for the blanket. Lying together was not a question, it was a statement: Jungkook would be there for you, without you having to ask.
Waking on your rug the following morning, you stared at the ceiling and realized this was not a good thing. Jungkook was not just a friend, he was your best friend and not only that, you were fresh from a breakup. You were still hurt, trying to heal and the last thing you needed was an added complication.
Jungkook was complicated. By some miracle, the sound of you falling had not woken him and, making sure to keep it that way, you slowly stood from the ground. Easing yourself away, you disappeared into your bedroom and collapsed on your bed. When you woke several hours later, Jungkook was gone. No note, no text – he just disappeared.
The two of you never spoke about that night, never discussed it and to this day, no conversation has occurred regarding the events of your breakup.
“Y/N,” Jungkook mumbles, nose buried in your neck. He is drunk and although this is annoying, you understand why – their hockey team lost earlier tonight, as evidenced by Jungkook, Hoseok and Seokjin getting tequila-wasted at the bar. The game was not life or death and they can still make the playoffs, but it was a game against a rival, which makes it hurt more than the rest.
There is a lot of pressure riding on Jungkook to perform and before you knew him, you might have dismissed this as him being an athlete, just another jock too caught up in the game. Now, though, you know him and know better. You know Jungkook’s dad is a deadbeat, his mom barely speaks English and it made his life difficult most of his childhood. Jungkook attends University on a scholarship because it is all he can afford and if Jungkook is anything less than perfect, his future is screwed.
Every loss is hard, because Jungkook equates loss with failure – it is your job as his friend to make him see the opportunity. You will try and do that tomorrow, when Jungkook is coherent enough to respond but for now you just grunt, lugging him in through your door.
“Y/N,” he mumbles, nudging your hair with his nose.
“Yes?” you say, patiently pulling him forward. The noise of your apartment muffles the outside when you kick shut the door – the sounds of a pregame down the hall disappear, replaced only by the soft whoosh of your humidifier.
It takes a moment to lock the door and when you do, Jungkook wanders off down the hall. He stops in your living room, a slight frown to his face, as though wondering how he got here. His mouth opens, then shuts, looking back at your hallway.
“Can I take my shoes off?” Jungkook asks, while you fight back a smile.
“Yeah,” you nod, crossing to him. “Take off your shoes and your jacket, okay? Do you want something to eat?” you call, heading into the kitchen.
Two thumps come from behind, as Jungkook does what you requested. When you open the fridge, he follows, padding along like a dog. “Yes, please,” Jungkook exhales, dropping onto a stool. “Do you have mac and cheese, Y/N?”
Classic pre-hangover food. “Lucky for you,” you nod, rummaging around, “I made too much last night. I’ll heat up leftovers if you promise,” you warn, pulling out a jug, “to drink a whole glass of water before going to sleep.”
Jungkook nods solemnly. “Promise.”
“Okay,” you grin, removing Tupperware and popping this into the microwave.
It takes a while to heat and while you wait, Jungkook hums an incoherent song – something which sounds vaguely like Monster Mash and Hotel California, mushed together. You largely ignore this, because singing is a large part of Drunkkook. Drunkkook has many phases, one of which is the giddy slap-happiness Jungkook seems to be stuck in right now.
The macaroni revives Jungkook – he eats enthusiastically, refusing to talk until the entire bowl is finished and only then, does he let out a sigh. “Thanks,” Jungkook burps, pushing hair from his face.
“Gross,” you say, wrinkling your nose as you hop down from your stool. “This is why you can’t get a girl, Jeon.”
“Can so,” he complains, watching you walk to the sink.
“Oh, really? Then why aren’t you with one right now,” you ask, looking over your shoulder. “Why’d you call me, instead of one of them?”
Jungkook stares at you for a moment, then shrugs. “You’re easier?”
“Flattering.” You roll your eyes. Turning the water on, you run a dish under the faucet. “Why don’t you head to my bed, okay? You can sleep there tonight.”
Jungkook nods, pushing himself up from the chair – his gaze remains slightly unfocused, wandering down the hall and in the corner of your eyes, you see his t-shirt fly over the sofa. “Jungkook!” you shriek, dropping the dish in the sink to dart down the hall.
Just another stage of Drunkkook – tequila shots equals stripping. There is no power on God’s green earth which can stop him. The moment the limes come out, Jungkook disappears and in his place stands an exotic dancer named Candy. He is already working the belt, leather mostly undone by the time you rush into your room.
“Whoa, whoa!” you blurt, grabbing his hands with your own. “Let’s just go to sleep, okay? Keep all your clothes on.”
“But it’s hot,” Jungkook complains, blowing hair from his eyes. It is unfair that, even sweaty and drunk, Jungkook still looks amazing – he stares back in your bedroom, gaze dark with frustration and it is hard not to imagine the situation as different.
This thought makes you shiver, a hopeless emotion you disentangle yourself from quickly. “Fine,” you agree. “Leave your boxers on, okay?”
Jungkook nods happily, pushing his jeans to the floor. When they are gone, he flops down on your mattress, rolling upwards to face you. “Y/N.” Jungkook lifts his hand in the air; an exact replica of the Creation of Adam. “Aren’t you coming?”
Hesitating, you glance over your shoulder. It would be best to sleep on the couch because Jungkook is big, your bed is small and if you slept pressed against him, you might not survive. That would make two separate occasions of being held in his arms and you do not think you could survive being torn from another.
“I,” you hesitate, shaking your head. “No, Kookie. I’m going to sleep on the couch, okay?”
Jungkook’s lower lip protrudes. “But we’re best friends. Best friends share beds.”
Stifling a laugh, you cross your arms over your chest. “No, they don’t.”
“Do too.”
“Do not.”
“Yeah-huh.”
“Nu-uh.”
“Y/N,” Jungkook exhales, falling suddenly quiet. “Please?”
He says this so simply, something inside of you caves and unable to think of a response, you walk over. Jungkook watches you carefully, hair mussed from his hands before he rolled onto his back. He watches you gently, eyes no longer as glazed as before. You take a deep breath, unbuttoning the top of your jeans.
“Don’t look,” you mumble – it is too late to hold any sort of conviction but Jungkook nods despite this, following instruction.
He drapes one arm over his face, revealing the flat strip of his stomach while you try not to stare. The sight inspires dubious thoughts in you, like licking various parts of your best friend’s body and you cannot allow such images to continue. Shaking your head, you step free of your jeans and walk to your dresser. You are careful to pick the least sexy pair of pajamas you own – tattered, raggedy bottoms with a plain white camisole and, pulling your blouse overhead, you hear a quiet intake of breath.
Craning your head, you spot Jungkook staring – he does not even try to hide his guilt, gaze locked on your hips. "Jungkook!" you scold, making him jump.
"Sorry!" he blurts, ducking his head.
After another peek to make sure he really is not looking, you unhook your bra and toss this fall to the floor. Tugging the camisole down, you grab your pants to hop, nearly falling as you yank them up to your waist. Facing your bed, you find Jungkook’s eyes firmly shut.
"Can I look now?" he mumbles, voice low.
When you nod, you realize he cannot see. "Yeah," you inform, pulling back your covers to sink down beside him. "You can look."
His eyes open. It is odd, you think, roaming his face. You are not the only one being careful, not the only one being safe – Jungkook seems cautious as well, holding himself to the edge of your bed. His body is tense, back nearly pressed to the wall. When you lower yourself onto the pillow, he stares for a moment.
"Y/N," he whispers.
"Sh," you respond, scooting closer. "Go to sleep, Jungkook."
He nods, lowering his head to the sheets beside yours. He is too big for this, you realize. Your mattress sinks to the center and after several long moments of fighting gravity, you decide to give in. It is like sinking into quicksand; your body slides forward to mold against his.
To his credit, Jungkook does not respond – the only noticeable reaction is an exhale, a tiny sound you know will haunt future dreams. He shifts and it is obvious to you both what he conceals but neither one of you mentions it, neither one of you says it out loud. You are not sure how long this moment lasts, a stand-off of wills but eventually it dissipates and your eyes slowly close. It is during the strange, drifting moment between sleep and awake you feel Jungkook's arm slip over your waist.
“Y/N?” he whispers, near the side of your face.
“Shut up,” you mumble, pressing closer.
He chuckles, breath warm at your ear. “Are you awake?”
“I guess so,” you mutter, “thanks to my dumb drunk best friend.”
“Not so drunk, anymore.”
Finally, you open your eyes.
He stares back at you, the room quiet but for the buzzing of the air conditioner in the corner. A car horn honks, dim in the distance and you hope it covers the sound of your beating heart because Jungkook can probably feel it, lying here next to you.
“Tequila move through you that fast, huh, Jeon?” you say.
“The mac and cheese helped,” he admits, toes brushing your shin. You forgot this fact about him; Jungkook sleeps like a child, curled into himself like a ball. It was something you found endearing that night on the couch – before he kicked you off it, of course. “I can’t fall asleep.”
“Oh,” you say, blinking back at him.
He smiles, the sleepy kind which crinkles his eyes. “Hey.” Jungkook changes the subject. “How are you doing?”
“What do you mean?” you say, expression shuttering. “I’m tired, I guess.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Jungkook whispers.
When he says this, you sigh because you know what he means – but you do not want to talk about Taehyung. “I’m fine,” you mumble, as he shifts closer.
“When I broke up with my ex,” Jungkook starts, and you make a noise of surprise.
Jungkook never talks about his ex – a girl from your high school, someone you knew only vaguely. Her face is familiar but if you placed her in a lineup, it would impossible to single her out. Jungkook was wild about the girl; you would see them in the halls between classes, hanging over each other while they sucked face at the lockers. You remember hearing something awful happened between them, something which broke them up senior year, but in the entire three years you have known Jungkook, he has never once mentioned her name.
“When I broke up with my ex,” Jungkook repeats, quieter. “It was because she cheated on me.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook nods. “We did that, a lot. Problem was she fucked my best friend, too and I didn’t like that.”
“Jimin?” you gasp, surprised.
“No.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, his arm still draped over your waist. “My best friend from high school – Sungmin.”
“Oh,” you allow, relaxing into his grip. Jimin is on the hockey team with Jungkook; he is the star right winger and an absolute sweetheart. “I didn’t think he’d do that.”
Jungkook arches a brow at your mistake. “Anyways,” he continues. “She cheated on me, I found out over text and it was awful,” he says, looking down at the sheets. “All that to say I get it – sometimes you love someone and it doesn’t work out. It works out in the end, though,” Jungkook mumbles, voice heavy. “Things will always get better.”
“Will they?” you mutter, though you do not really mean that.
Jungkook’s hand closes around yours and you stare at the motion, unsure if you should push him away. It feels nice though, him touching you like that – fuck nice, it feels heavenly. Jungkook’s fingers brush over yours in a gentle, soothing motion.
“They do,” he nods. “Just think about the sucky things Taehyung did before you broke up. Was he distant? Annoying? Did he hog the bed, or something?”
“No, that was you,” you grin, shoving his shoulder. Jungkook laughs and you quickly sober, considering his words. “Well,” you start, only to hesitate. “No, never mind.”
Face burning, you bury your head in the sheets while Jungkook scoots closer, poking your shoulder. “Come on,” he complains. “Out with it – what’d Taehyung do?”
Fuck. Now that you brought it up, Jungkook will not let it go – tenacious, is a nice word for him. Stubborn as hell, is another way to describe him. Groaning aloud, you flop onto your back. “It’s more what he didn’t do,” you mumble, covering your face with both hands.
A hush fills the room, filled with everything you will not say.
“He.” Jungkook coughs awkwardly, clearing his throat. “What… didn’t he do?”
Taking a deep breath, you feel slightly dizzy – which is ridiculous, considering you did not even drink tonight. Lying beside Jungkook, talking about things you should not – it makes you feel dizzy, nauseous and the words come up despite yourself.
“Hewouldn’teatmeout,” you mutter, all in a rush.
Jungkook nearly chokes, sputtering before rolling himself closer. “That’s ridiculous,” he whines, returning his arm to your waist. “What a fucking pig. Can’t wait to spread that fact on campus – shit, Y/N. Doubt any girl will want to date him after this. Fuck him – and fuck Khaled, too! Go down on your wife!”
“No, no, no,” you groan, lowering your hands to look at him. Jungkook stares back, his face much too close. “It’s not like that.”
Jungkook seems surprised. “No? Then what’s it like?”
“He didn’t… he didn’t expect me to go down on him,” you explain, toying with a thread of your comforter. “Taehyung wasn’t unreasonable. He just didn’t like going down on others, it was this whole thing with him but,” you inhale, taking a big gulp of air. “It would be nice, I guess. To have a boyfriend who didn’t mind… that.”
Jungkook falls silent for a long moment. “Why just a boyfriend?” he declares boldly.
Your words dry in your throat as Jungkook stares back, oddly determined. Suddenly, you are very aware of the weight of his hand on your stomach. His fingers splay over the skin, tracing circles against your hip.
“I,” you hesitate, unsure how to respond – Jungkook cannot possibly be offering what you think he is. “I don’t know,” you frown. “I typically only sleep with my boyfriends. It’s a monogamy thing, something you wouldn’t understand, Jungkook.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes. “What does it matter?” he murmurs, fingers tracing in a way that sets every nerve ending on fire. “I’m tipsy and I want to go down on you, Y/N. Take advantage of that – take advantage of me.”
Now, your mouth nearly drops because there it is – your best friend, offering to eat you out, completely unaware of how badly you want it. “You – what?” you squeak.
Jungkook freezes. You two have been friends for so long, you recognize the drunk stages of Jeon Jungkook better than anyone – especially tequila kook, which is another thing in its entirety. Symptoms include false bravado, overconfidence followed by whininess, neediness and much cuddling. The symptoms start out one way, work their way upwards and then fade back. From the way Jungkook is staring at you now, you imagine the last of his bravado has just disappeared.
“Shit,” Jungkook whispers, eyes wide.
Then – so slowly, it could be a dream, you grasp his hand in yours to move lower on your body. Jungkook sucks in a breath, realizing what you want and before you can take it back, before you can question your sanity, he moves on his own. His hand slides lower, beneath the waistband of your sweats to brush over your underwear.
Both of you still, looking at one another – and then Jungkook continues, nudging the waistband of your panties aside. Jungkook stays there for a moment, finger slipping beneath the elastic to trace over your skin; he lets you get used to the feeling, relax into the motion and when you push your hips up, he tugs your panties aside. The sound reveals how wet you are, how wet you are for him and Jungkook inhales at the noise. His finger moves lower, making a perfect circle around your already swollen clit – you groan out loud, when he does it again.
“Shit,” he whispers, rolling closer. Jungkook’s hair falls forward to stare intently at the crux of your thighs. Both sweats and sheets are pushed to your knees but you remain covered by panties until Jungkook shoves these aside to spread your folds. He stares at your body, drinking you in and you know this should be uncomfortable but somehow find it is not. Jungkook’s fingers slide to either side of your clit, forcing your back to arch upwards on the bed.
“Fuck,” Jungkook murmurs, gaze drifting to yours. “You’re so responsive, baby. Do you like having your clit rubbed that much?”
Hearing him call you baby feels both foreign and right, as though it is the next logical thing in your pantheon of names. “Yes,” you exhale, wriggling your ass on the bed. “I like when you touch me, Jungkook.”
As though you have flipped a switch, Jungkook’s eyes darken. “Really,” he mutters, sliding a finger slowly into your cunt. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that, Y/N.”
Before you can ask what he means, Jungkook curls said finger upwards to press his thumb to your clit. Moaning his name, you fall back on the bed. “Jungkook,” you exhale, voice breathy beyond recognition.
“Mm?” he murmurs, lifting himself onto his knees. “Just relax,” he instructs, pushing your camisole higher. “I want to make you feel good.”
Nodding, you keep your eyes closed when he shifts – Jungkook’s hands find your waist, pulling your underwear down to toss onto the floor. He positions himself in between your legs, one on either side while he rubs circles on your thighs and Jungkook lowers his lips to trail kisses towards your sex.
“You have such a pretty pussy, Y/N,” he exhales, forcing your eyes to snap open.
“What?” you blurt, pushing yourself up on your elbows.
“I mean it,” Jungkook nods, still fixated on the sight. “Here,” he murmurs, bringing his fingers to your clit – he moves slowly back, keeping your legs spread so that you feel every touch. “And here,” Jungkook adds, finger tracing gently over your opening. “God, I’m hard just thinking about fucking you. But here,” he breathes, dropping a kiss to your most sensitive place. “There should be a whole fucking Netflix documentary about your clit – hell, I’d watch it.”
Never has someone revered you like this, never has anyone taken this much time to look at you, let alone tease and when Jungkook’s lips close over your sex, a whimper falls from your lips. He takes his time with your body, mouth opening slow so his tongue can nudge, lick and twist. He adds his lips to the motion, tugging the swollen bud into his mouth; intermixing this with gentle flicks of his tongue. The sounds you make are not human, entirely unrecognizable as you stretch your arms overhead, grabbing hold of the bed.
Jungkook continues mercilessly, demanding every inch of your pleasure while wrapping both arms over your waist. You groan, staring down at his head between your thighs, unable to tear your eyes away from the mess that he’s making. Every now and then, Jungkook pauses to look up – your arousal is clear, his lips shining and red; though you want nothing more than to taste him, he continues to refuse.
“Not until you come,” Jungkook purrs, reburying himself in between your thighs.
“Ah,” you arch, when Jungkook switches the motion. He drags his tongue up your clit, rubbing over you gently before pushing apart with his tongue – every swirl is sinful, purposeful and fuck, if anyone has ever eaten you out like this. The noises he makes are sloppy, obscene and Jungkook pauses only briefly before flicking over you again.
“Oh, shit,” you moan, fisting both hands in your hair.
Not his hair – although you want to – because Jungkook seems determined and you do not want to interfere with whatever he is doing. Your body has lost whatever sensitivity you had at the start; now you just want him closer, rougher, while he toys with your clit. You know you are close when you start to lose control; legs jerking up to frame his head, curse words multiplying on your lips but Jungkook just chuckles, pushing your knees apart to pin you down to the mattress.
He moves quickly, mouth open and you nearly scream, your body is so tight from the motion. “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut. “Jungkook, I think I’m gonna come.”
As though you’ve said the magic words, Jungkook slows. He keeps you pressed to the mattress, holding you immobile but instead of the fast release he was giving, Jungkook slows to a crawl.
“Jungkook,” you bemoan, nearly breaking with frustration. Your entire body quivers, pussy soaked from his teasing and here this fucker is, slowly massaging your clit. It feels good – shit, does it feel good – but that’s hardly the point. “Make me come,” you whine, pushing your hips up to his face. “Please, baby, make me come.”
Jungkook groans, vibration soft on your sex – he nods, nose brushing over your slit. “Fine,” he exhales, resuming his previous motion. “Come for me, baby.”
“Oh,” you gasp, as he resumes rapid circles. “Fuck, your mouth.”
He does not respond, tongue too busy and then Jungkook reaches to insert a finger – game over. It has been so long since anyone has been inside you like that, since anyone has touched you and Jungkook’s finger, curved against your g-spot sends you over the edge. His arms hold your body below him, tongue still moving and it is hard to understand what you say, coming apart in his arms.
There is a moment at the top, when you think you might break – it seems too much, too intense for any one person but Jungkook continues to hold on and you decide to let go. He is there when you return, breathing heavily while opening your eyes. Jungkook looks up at you, framed between your thighs – he removes his finger slowly, dragging up past your sex.
Shiver crossing your spine, you stare back – then shift abruptly, pushing him back on your bed.
“Hey!” Jungkook exclaims, confused – he does not seem to know what to do with his hands, grasping the sheets awkwardly. “What are you – oh.”
He inhales when you shove his boxers down, closing your lips over his cock. Jungkook is already hard, pre-cum leaking from his tip and you know it will not be long before he comes in your mouth. Especially not with the way you are sucking him off, twisting your mouth to his base and back up, using your hands to help and getting them wet.
Jungkook groans, hissing while leaning back on his hands. He stares at your head between his thighs, bobbing up and down on his cock – you release his length with a pop, taking a deep breath to pull your hair back in a ponytail.
“Hold this,” you demand, before re-gripping his thighs.
Jungkook responds on reflex, wrapping your hair in his fist while you resume deep-throating. “Oh, shit,” he groans, trying and failing to catch his breath – but you are moving too fast, tongue dragging up him in time. The veins in his cock stand out, throbbing and you tease him mercilessly in response to what he did to you. Closing your fist around Jungkook, you start to pump up and down while sucking his tip like a lollipop – you look up to make eye contact, dragging your tongue over his slit.
“Shit, shit,” Jungkook exhales, hands finding their way to your hair. His hips rise involuntarily, moving you deeper. “Fuck, your mouth is amazing.”
Rather than answer, you moan, letting him feel the vibration while you suck him again. Jungkook whimpers, grabbing your hair to thrust hard in your mouth. You let him, eyes watering when he starts to take over. His cock hits deeper and when Jungkook is panting, grip tight in your hair, you tap on his waist to let him know he can cum.
As though waiting for your cue, his entire body slackens – jaw tight, eyes screwed shut, Jungkook lets himself go. Cum spurts into your mouth, cock still held deep and you wait until he is finished to pull off with a gasp. Jungkook groans out loud, having difficulty catching his breath – your own high is still there, lessening somewhat as the seconds tick by. Before you can do anything about this, Jungkook moves forward to push you back to the bed.
He buries his face in your hair, arms caged around your waist. “Fuck, that was amazing,” Jungkook exhales, half-buried in pillows.
You agree but you do not know how amazing, and therein lies the problem – your earth was just moved, entirely shattered and here Jungkook is, acting like you just ran a marathon. “Hey,” you exhale, suddenly hesitant. “This… it won’t be weird between us now, will it?”
For a second, Jungkook tenses and then his back muscles stretch, pushing himself up on your bed. “I,” he starts, then stops. “No,” he says, somewhat deflated. “It doesn’t have to be weird, not if we don’t let it.”
“Good,” you respond. Another moment passes before you sink down beside him; Jungkook’s hand slides over your waist, pulling you closer, but not like before.
You swallow, allowing your eyelids to flutter and wonder if feelings are somehow transferable. If the osmosis of touching can impart from your skin to his, leaving Jungkook wanting you the way you want him. Because that is what you want – him. That is all you have wanted for some time now, although you would not admit it yourself.
Jungkook stirs, gently pulling you closer. Your chests rise and fall, hearts beating in tandem.
"Why did you leave?" Jungkook whispers, so soft you think you must have misheard.
"I – what?" you respond, stilling against him.
"The night you and Taehyung broke up," Jungkook says, face half-buried in your hair. "We fell asleep on the couch and you left before I woke up."
"I didn't...” Pausing, you find yourself unsure what to say because this is entirely unexpected. “I didn’t know you realized."
"I did," Jungkook says.
"I didn't," you exhale, pulling back to look at him, "know that you cared."
Jungkook's eyes are unreadable. "I did." His arm is still draped over your body, torso pressed into your own. “I do.”
"Then why –”
"I messed up," Jungkook confesses, all in a rush. "I should have told you from the moment we met that I liked you. I should have asked you out then and there but I was too much of a coward and now, here we are."
Your brow furrows, unsure what he means. "What do you mean, ‘here are we?’"
“We’re friends,” Jungkook says, as though this fact should be obvious. "Friends," he continues, pushing the word past his teeth. "We’re friends, the best of friends and that's amazing – it’s wonderful because honestly, Y/N, you mean the world to me."
Some of the tension between you lessens; Jungkook's hands are warm on your waist, scooting closer on the bed. "Thank you?" you respond, unsure how to decipher his words. Everything Jungkook says feels like a blur, as though it is happening to someone else and you are just looking in. "You mean the world to me, too, Jungkook."
"Not in the way you do to me," Jungkook admits, then pauses. "Do you remember the first time we met?"
You frown, because it was probably sometime in high school, but Jungkook of course would not remember that. “I – uh –"
"It was in elementary school."
This shuts you up, completely floored. "What?" you frown. "We... we didn't go to the same elementary school, Jungkook."
Jungkook exhales, reaching up to massage the back of his neck. "We did," he confesses. "At least, we did for a year or so – I moved around a lot, you know my dad. I doubt you’d remember, but I remember you," he confesses.
When you say nothing, Jungkook takes this as a sign to continue. "So, my mom got me this t-shirt," he mumbles, glancing over your shoulder at the door. "Power Rangers were my favorite back then – all I wanted was to be the red one and for my birthday, my mom got me a t-shirt which read, 'It's Morphin' time!'"
Biting down on your lip, you stifle a grin. "Mhm," you agree, trying not to laugh. "That's sweet, Jungkook but I really don't –"
"My mom doesn’t know English very well. You know that," Jungkook says.
“Yeah,” you nod, softening. " I know."
"So," Jungkook exhales, tracing circles over your hip. “My mom accidentally bought this discount shirt with a typo – instead of 'It's Morphin' time,' it read, 'It's Morphine time.'"
Though you try not to laugh, your lower lip twitches. "Oh."
Jungkook stares back at you, lips pressed firmly together. "It's not funny."
"No. It's not."
"It's not," Jungkook insists, even as his eyes dance with laughter.
"I've never felt more serious in my life," you insist – before breaking away, covering your face with both hands. “Oh my god.”
Jungkook cracks up when you lose it. "Ah," he groans, leaning his forehead to yours. "She meant well, really – it was so sweet, but the day I wore it to school the kids had a field day."
When he says this, you stop laughing because the thought of Jungkook hurting is not funny at all. “This was… when we were in elementary school?” you ask, beginning to put two and two together.
"Yeah," Jungkook exhales, staring. "This is the part where you came in."
"Me?" you repeat, still struggling to understand. Elementary school was a long time ago, but – “Oh my god," you blurt, eyes widening. "That was you."
Jungkook nods slowly, scanning your face. "Yeah. That was me."
"It was you!" you gasp, nearly kneeing him in the dick when you press yourself closer. "Those stupid boys on the playground! They were picking on you and I just got so mad at them, I marched up and –”
"You called them all amoebas," Jungkook deadpans, upper lip twitching.
Clasping both hands over your mouth, you stifle a snort. "Oh my god," you mumble between fingers.
"You walked up to them,” Jungkook details. “Double ponytails swinging and scowling so darkly, I thought you’d come to join in. I thought I'd offended you with my horrible t-shirt – and then you turned around and pointed at the ringleader."
"Derek." You scowl. "What a prick."
"Yeah," Jungkook says, hands grazing the sides of your body. "He was a prick, but you walked right up to him and called them all amoebas. I doubt they understood what the word meant but you said it so scathingly, I think they assumed it was a curse."
"They ran away," you recall, smug. "Little punks."
Jungkook snorts, gaze softening the longer he looks at you. "Yeah," he says softly. "That was the first time I realized I loved you."
He says the words so suddenly, you cannot think of a response. It is like that moment earlier, when he called you baby and you could not understand why he had not been doing it longer. Jungkook’s words sink into your skin, leaving you breathless – and this is when you realize you love him, as well.
"Y/N," Jungkook whispers, gaze searching. "Please respond to that. It’s… kind of something I’d like feedback on."
"I," you inhale, the noise almost a hiccup. "Do you want to know why I left you that night?" you ask, returning to the first question he asked.
Jungkook nods, hands sliding to the small of your back.
“It was because I realized something," you say, letting Jungkook pull you forward. "When Taehyung and I were together you were a constant source of tension, because I kept comparing him to you."
"To me?" Jungkook’s brow crinkles.
You nod, since the memory is shameful to you. The facts are not pretty, are not nice – they paint you as the bad guy because while Taehyung had his faults, in the back of your mind you were falling for someone else. You were falling in love with your best friend.
"Yeah," you whisper, hands sliding around his neck. Jungkook’s hair is so soft, in contrast to the rest of him. "Whenever we’d argue, I’d think about what you’d do instead. Whenever I was happy, you would pop into my head. I didn’t know what to do," you whisper. "It was almost a relief when Taehyung and I broke up."
Jungkook just stares, face mere inches away. "You’re ashamed of it.”
Trust your best friend to understand how you feel. “Yeah,” you mumble, looking down until Jungkook’s fingers slide beneath your chin, lifting you up.
“Hey,” he murmurs, brushing his lips to your forehead. “Life isn’t perfect. People fuck up. That wasn’t the only reason the two of you broke up, was it?”
“No.”
“Then stop beating yourself up.” Jungkook exhales, wrapping himself around you. “Stop hurting yourself because of what’s past.”
He is right, you know that he is and your arms tighten, pressing your face to his chest. “I love you, too, Jungkook – you know that, right?”
“I know.”
“Not just in the best friends kind of way.”
“I know that, too.”
“Good. As long as you know.”
“I do,” he whispers, kissing the tip of your nose.
Author’s Note: Ruin the Friendship is continued in Part II, Over the Edge!
© kpopfanfictrash, 2018. Do not copy or repost without permission.
