—lost stars, part 2 (m.)
⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader
⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers
⟶ word count: 20k
⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.
⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.
✔ read part one here!
a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!
Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.
Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.
He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.
“What do you suggest we should do then?”
The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.
He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.
Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass.
“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”
“What do you think, Jungkook?”
It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.
It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.
Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck.
He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”
Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.
Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.
“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.
Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.
Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.
“Does it really matter?”
Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.
“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”
He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”
“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.
“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”
Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.
“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.
Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.
“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.
“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.
Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”
“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”
“Deal.”
Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.
You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.
In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.
He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.
“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.
Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.
He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.
Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.
He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.
“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.
Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”
If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.
Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.
You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.
He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.
You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.
It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.
From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.
Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.
It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.
And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.
Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.
Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.
You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).
Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.
Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.
“Need some help?”
Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”
You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.
“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.
“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”
“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”
“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.
To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”
Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”
Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”
His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.
“Are you okay?”
For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.
You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.
They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.
It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.
Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.
A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up.
[1:23pm] jungkook:
i need you
It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room. [1:24pm] jungkook:
please
He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.
He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.
He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.
“Hello, doll.”
It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?” he then asks although he already knows the answer.
It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.
It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.
But you accept your fate the way it is.
“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.
Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.
You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.
You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.
“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.
“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”
Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”
There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.
“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.
Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”
“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”
‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”
“I know. He told me about you.”
Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.
“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”
You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”
It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.
It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.
The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.
Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.
Jungkook.
Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.
Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.
You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?
Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.
“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”
At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.
The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.
Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,” You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”
“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.
“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”
You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.
“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.
“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.
You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”
“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”
Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.
“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”
You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.
The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”
You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”
Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”
He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.
“You can get a driving license then finally.”
You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”
Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.
“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”
Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.
“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.
“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.
You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.
“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”
Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”
It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back. “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.
“And what is that?”
“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”
Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.
The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”
“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”
“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.
Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.
“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.
“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.
He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.
A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”
“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”
You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.
Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.
Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.
You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.
You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.
Three missed calls from: Jungkook
[11:11pm] jungkook:
I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice
Please call me back. I’m worried
Two missed calls from: Jungkook
[11:36pm] jungkook:
At least text me if you’re okay
Please
[11:39pm] me:
I’m fine
[11:39pm] jungkook:
Thank God
You sure you don’t wanna talk?
[11:41pm] me:
Maybe next time
[11:41pm] jungkook:
Okay
Night, miss grumpy
You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.
Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.
[10:45am] jungkook:
Do you have time now?
I need to tell you sth
It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was.
With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response.
[10:46am] me:
I guess
[10:46am] jungkook:
Great. I’m gonna call you now
Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.
“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”
“You called me to ask how am I doing?”
Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”
Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.
“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”
“Should I be scared?”
”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”
You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”
“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”
You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.
It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.
Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”
Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.
“Okay. I agree.”
Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”
“Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”
You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.
Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.
“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”
That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.
When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.
Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.
“What’s that for?” you mumble.
“Just missed you.”
He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.
It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.
You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.
He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”
You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.
He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”
Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”
“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.
He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”
“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”
You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.
Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers.
The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.
“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.
“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.
“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”
You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”
That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.
You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.
You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”
“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.
You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”
“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”
“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.
Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”
“Taehyung.”
Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”
“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.
“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.
“Is somebody jealous?”
Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”
Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.
No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.
Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.
Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.
“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”
Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.
He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”
You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.
Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides behind the horizon.
“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.
“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”
“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”
You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”
Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.
Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”
Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.
“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.
“What is it?”
“You’re invited to a party.”
“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.
‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.
Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?”
Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”
You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.
The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.
(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)
But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.
“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.
“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.
“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.
He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”
The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.
You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.
But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.
You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.
Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)
After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.
You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.
Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.
(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)
“What are you thinking about?”
You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.
“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”
Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”
“Oppa?”
You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.
Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”
Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.
“Oh, I will be over the moon.”
“Good.”
“Amazing, even.”
You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.
You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features.
It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.
You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.
There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.
It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.
You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.
It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.
And then, you looked up and saw him.
A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.
You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.
“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.
Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.
When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.
You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.
“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”
“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.
“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.
Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.
And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.
You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.
Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.
You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.
The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.
And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.
“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.
Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”
You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”
He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.
She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”
She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.
“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”
At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.
Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.
“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.
Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.
The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.
‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.
From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.
(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)
“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.
Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.
It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.
When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.
It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.
It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.
Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.
It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life.
When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.
Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.
He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.
This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.
“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.
It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.
“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”
You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”
Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.
“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.
You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”
Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.
From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”
Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”
Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.
Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.
You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.
It’s Jungkook who speaks first.
“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”
“I do.” you whisper truthfully.
He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”
You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.
There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.
But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.
The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.
He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.
The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.
“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.
“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.
Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.
Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.
“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”
Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.
“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.
“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.
“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.
Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.
“Tell me about it.”
She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”
Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.
Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.
Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.
“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.
“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”
Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.
As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.
And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.
You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.
“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.
For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.
“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.
“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.
Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.
“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.
You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.
“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.
Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”
“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.
Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.
“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.
Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”
“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.
Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”
You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.
“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”
Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.
That your little infatuation had a sequel.
Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”
Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”
You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.
“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”
“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”
Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”
The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.
Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.
What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls. You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.
“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”
To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.
Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”
Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.
But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?
The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away.
Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.
By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.
Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.
Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.
“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”
Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.
Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.
And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.
“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.
“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”
From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.
“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.
Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.
“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”
“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”
You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”
Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”
You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”
“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”
Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.
(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)
You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.
“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.
Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”
Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.
“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”
Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.
“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.
Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.
Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.
“Want to get out of here for a while?”
Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.
“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”
“But–”
He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.
Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”
“Ladies first.”
“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”
You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.
“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.
You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”
He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”
“Exactly!”
You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.
“So you did get rid of him after all.”
Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.
Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”
“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”
Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.
Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.
“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.
“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”
It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.
Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.
It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”
You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.
“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”
You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”
It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.
“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.
It’s longing.
“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”
You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.
“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”
He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”
He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.
“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”
And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.
And you need to hear him say it.
“Promise?”
Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.
For now, it has to be enough.
Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you’re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.
But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.
“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”
“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”
He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”
Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”
Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”
You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”
He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.
As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.
You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.
“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.
He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.
There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes.
Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.
You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.
“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.
Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”
“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.
Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.
“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.
He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”
It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing. You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”
‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.
He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening.
“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.
“So good,” you mewl.
“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.
“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”
“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.
His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.
“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”
He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”
Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.
Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.
He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.
You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.
“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.
Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.
You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”
He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh.
‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.
“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.
“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”
“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”
He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.
It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).
He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,” You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”
Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”
“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”
You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.
You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.
He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.
“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.
Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss.
He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”
Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”
By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.
When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”
Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.
Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.
“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.
You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.
“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.
“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”
“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.
You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”
He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.
“Always.”
You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.
[4 months later]
“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”
You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.
The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.
Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.
The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.
He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.
You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.
[5:55pm] jungkook:
We’re departing in 20 minutes
I’m missing you already so much:(
You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.
[6:01pm] me:
Miss u too!!
And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.
The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.
You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.
However long it takes.
