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Skirts and Make-up
Jungkook stares at Namjoon, his heart thumping a staccato rhythm. His hyung - his wonderful, brilliant, role-model hyung - wore a skirt, Taehyung brushing eyeshadow gently over his eyelids. Taehyung towers over him, strong and solid in his bedazzled black heels, his own plaid skirt riding high up his thigh.
"Uh," Jungkook sputters out. "I can come back later." He'd made his way over for the promised lunch of kimchi jiggae - Taehyung's mother visited over the weekend, leaving the two roommates with more food than they could possibly eat and a packed freezer. He'd expected some delicious food and movies, not - not this.
Taehyung laughs. "No, no worries, we're almost done."
Namjoon turns and Taehyung tuts, grabbing his chin to turn his head back towards him.
"Jungkookie, what lipstick do you think suits him best?"
"Uhm." A blush overtakes his features as he stares at Namjoon. Namjoon smiles, his dimple prominent against his dark skin.
"Do you want to come with us? It's a new club in Itaewon," Tashyung says, not glancing up from his makeup bag.
He looks at his hyungs - broad shouldered, muscled Namjoon, square-jawed and angular Taehyung - pretty in their skirts and makeup.
Something cracks inside him as he stares at them, gushing from hidden corners of his heart. They're men. And they're dressed like that, wearing makeup like that, and they're men, and everyone - everyone still knows. Everyone still calls Namjoon hyung , no one looks twice when Taehyung walks into the men's bathroom and -
And he thinks about his wardrobe at home, the black skirts that he loves, the deep lipsticks and sharp eyeliner and thinks -
Thinks he can wear all of that, and be a man, too. That it doesn't have to be all dark pressed suits and jeans and bland faces.
"Yeah hyungs," he says, "I'd love to.”
That night, pressed against Namjoon's chest as he half-dances, half-sways to the music, Namjoon's hands steady on his waist, breath puffed up against his neck, he exhales a long, slow breath he didn't know he was holding.
Taehyung comes up to them, towering over Namjoon in his heels, a bottle of soju in his hand. He grins at them both, opening his arms wide and settling one hand on Jungkook's waist as he joins them.
He ducks his head down to whisper in his ear, "You doing okay?"
Jungkook smiles softly up at him. "Yeah, hyung, I'm good."
Taehyung grins back, boxy and blinding. "Mm, okay," he answers, and there's a touch of a slurring in his voice, "I'm gonna go home with...." he grabs Jungkook, twirling him around at look. Namjoon blinks at them. "That guy," he says, pointing to a silver-encased dancer, his shock of pink hair standing out even among the pulsing crowd.
Jungkook nods. Namjoon leans over. "You got a name?"
Taehyung shakes his head, half-shouting. "Not yet. But I'll be safe."
Namjoon nods, pulling Taehyung closer to whisper in his ear. "Okay, okay, have fun."
Taehyung nods happily, slipping into the crowd, leaving the bottle of soju pressed into Jungkook's hand.
Jungkook blinks at it for a moment, and Namjoon just laughs. "You want to drink and head out?" he murmurs into Jungkook's ear, pulling him closer to be heard.
Jungkook cocks his head to the side, and nods, feeling the sweat sticking to his skin. "Yeah," he says, "might as well."
They stumble out into the brisk Seoul air together, Namjoon's big hands steadying on his waist as they walk towards Namjoon's apartment, and maybe, maybe people stare, but Jungkook is too caught up in the feeling of the cool air against his skin, in Namjoon's excited storytelling, to notice.
Meat
Jungkook frowns at Seokjin. Seokjin frowns back.
"This is too complicated," he declares.
"Well, you're the one who said you were studying meat!" Seokjin answers, throwing his hands up in irritation. "I don't know what you expected."
Jungkook stares down at the hunk of steak in front of him. "Well. Isn't there, like, an intro level?"
Seokjin pinches the skin between his brows. "Jungkookie. You said you wanted to learn how to make steak."
And, okay, he did. He'd gotten sick of living off of grocery store kimbap and ramen, and Hoseok couldn't cook much, either, so Jungkook spends most of those desperate evenings at Seokjin’s, with Hoseok alternating between Seokjin and his “hot architect friend’s”, depending on who’s less busy that night. Hoseok invites him, sometimes, but Jungkook isn’t usually in the mood to meet new people, even if Hobi swears they’ll hit it off.
The thing is, he didn't expect Seokjin to commit quite so much - he'd woken up Jungkook bright and early, knocking for barely 10 minutes before barging into their apartment, hitting Jungkook's face with a pillow until he started to move.
Jungkook asked Seokjin over two weeks ago, a throwaway comment in between rounds of Mario Kart - hey, hyung, can you teach me how to cook like you do?
And apparently Seokjin took that to mean, "hey, why don't we buy this expensive steak as Jungkook's lesson."
He's never been so intimidated by a piece of meat before. He stares down at it, at the salt in his hand, hesitant - god, what if it's too much? Too little? His back aches, he'd thrown on his binder without thinking and it was starting to really bother him, the dull pain of needing to stretch and not being able to. He could take it off, probably, not like Jin would really care, but this was supposed to be - supposed to be some sort of bro bonding night, Seokjin teaching him the ways of the world, as he put it in between cheek pinches, and he just - he just wants it to be easier.
Golden boy, Namjoon called him. Good at everything without even trying, and he can't figure out how much salt to throw on a steak.
Seokjin peers over at him. "Do you want hyung to help?"
Jungkook nods, dumbly.
Seokjin steps towards him. "Okay," he says, "you want to use more salt than you think you'll need. That's how you get the nice crust on the steak." He takes a handful of salt and sprinkles it over as Jungkook watches. "Now you," he says, flipping the steak over.
Jungkook follows him.
Seokjin grins. "Great," he said. "That wasn't that hard, was it?"
Jungkook nods in response.
Seokjin pinches his side. "No 'thank you hyung'? Aigoo, what am I going to do with my ungrateful son, honestly," Seokjin whined.
"Thank you hyung," Jungkook mutters obediently. He brings his hand up to rub at his shoulders, wincing as he stretches.
"You're spending the night, right, Jungkookie?"
Jungkook's brows furrow. He hadn't really thought about it, but he might as well - he didn't have anywhere else to be, after all.
"Sure," he says, "why not. Want me to invite Hoseok-hyung?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows.
Seokjin shoves him. "Ya! Hobi’s with the hot architect tonight, anyway,” Seokjin answers. “Put on your pajamas, then, you don't want to get hot oil all over your nice clothes."
Jungkook glances up at him and then grins, walking over to Seokjin's room. "I'm gonna wear your favorite shirt!!"
Seokjin howls at him. "If you do I'll eat all of this before you come back!"
"Raw steak?" Jungkook calls through the door, rummaging through Seokjin's closet, "gross, hyung!"
"It's called tartare , you heathen! I have so much to teach you!"
Jungkook laughs, pulling on Seokjin's oversized blue hoodie and walking out into the kitchen, hearing the sizzle of oil and the sound of knife against wood.
Love, Maybe
Jimin's arms wrap casually around Taehyung's, Taehyung's head resting against the smaller man's chest as they watch the movie. Jimin slipped into their life easy, after the first night at the club - Taehyung coming home, cheeks flushed and happy, their katalk blowing up with texts about how he's "definitely met his soulmate this time."
Namjoon and Jungkook had laughed about it over breakfast, Namjoon wincing as Jungkook poured a combination of sugary cereals all together. "I don't even know when Taehyung got those," he said. He ruffled through their cabinets, pulling out some instant rice and a few banchan.
Jungkook shrugged. "They're good," he answered, opening the fridge and pulling out the banana milk. He grinned. "I thought you said you didn't like banana milk, hyung."
Namjoon doesn't turn, focused on microwaving up the rice, but his shoulders tighten slightly and Jungkook grins. Namjoon loved to hide his sweet tooth, for some reason, despite pouring honey in his mouth at every opportunity, and it always made Jungkook laugh.
"I don't," Namjoon answered.
"Liar," Jungkook teased, turning back to his cereal.
Their phones buzzed at the same moment, and Jungkook giggled, swiping up to open the newest message from Taehyung.
"What is it this time?" Namjoon asked, focused on trying to make his coffee.
"Apparently," Jungkook said, reading out slowly, "his ass is so good you could bounce a quarter off of it. And Taehyung is pretty sure he must have saved a village in his past life to be able to meet Jimin."
Namjoon laughed. "That's cute."
Jungkook stuck his tongue out at him. "I think it's cheesy," he answered.
Namjoon raised an eyebrow. "You think you're going to hear bells and you think Taehyung's being cheesy? Really?" He placed a cup of coffee in front of Jungkook, and Jungkook's nose wrinkled. He knew just from the smell that the coffee was burnt, going to be harsh and bitter on his tongue.
He drank it anyway. The sugar from the cereal helped.
Jungkook laughed. "It's different when it's Taehyung." Besides - he'd given up on the bells a long time ago, had his moment when he'd walked into their new apartment and seen Hoseok lounging on the couch, talking animatedly with a man in short, short khaki shorts and a white tank top, had been so overwhelmed by the expanse of smooth honey thighs that he'd spoken without thinking - and Hobi never let him live that one down, had printed out "wow thighs" and decorated his room with it for his birthday, cackling the whole time.
He thought his horny brain had probably overwhelmed the bells, honestly.
But Namjoon was gay, and, well. Jungkook had had one too many interactions with gay men who seemed cool, were cool, until - sorry, I just don't see you like that.
Another layer to the mortifying ordeal of having a crush on someone who only ever saw him as a kid.
So. He kept his mouth shut, flirting casually but with a hint of laugher in it, enough to throw it off as a joke, if anyone really asked.
Namjoon shrugged. "I don't know," he said, "I think they look cute together." He hesitated for a moment, eating a bite of rice, and then said, all too quietly, "I think I'd like to have something like that."
Jungkook's stomach filled with lead. He shook it off as quickly as he could - Namjoon deserved love, too, and if Namjoon - if he found someone that made him happy, like Jimin made Taehyung happy, he'd be happy for him. That's what friends do.
“You deserve that, hyung,” he answered, avoiding Namjoon’s gaze.
Namjoon smiled softly. “I guess. What about you?” the words come out strangely, heavily.
Jungkook forced down a blush, gaze fixed on his cereal. “No,” he blurts out, too loud, too quickly, god, Namjoon is going to think he’s so weird. “No, i’m not interested in anyone.”
“Ah,” Namjoon answered flatly. “Uh. Do you want more coffee?”
Jungkook winced internally even as he spoke. “Sure, that sounds great.”
Months later, and Jimin and Taehyung's names intertwined to where he said them in one breath - JiminandTaehyung, how are JiminandTaehyung - and Namjoon still stood alone, coming to their apartment alone - more often, now, that JiminandTaehyung needed their alone time.
Jungkook tries not to be happy about it, he really, really does. If Namjoon wants to date - then he should be happy for him, try to set him up with someone, even. That's what friends did.
But he wasn't quite that nice, as much as he tried to be, and he couldn't help but be grateful that Namjoon's phone remained free of dating apps.
"Come on, " Hoseok whines, staring at the sight in front of him. Jungkook glances up and represses a snicker.
Jin sprawls on the armchair, taking Namjoon’s usual spot for movie night, and that leaves JiminandTaehyung, living up to their single name, wrapped around each other on the couch. Taehyung's legs splay across Jimin's lap, Jimin's head nuzzles into Taehyung's chest - it's not uncommon, now, but Hoseok still complains loudly every time. At this point, it's an inside joke, Jimin's eyes sparkling at he looks up at Hoseok and laughs. Namjoon sits on the couch next to them, pressed into the side and doing his absolute best to shrink as small as he can.
Jungkook loves them, he really does - loves how Taehyung's eyes gleam when he talks about Jimin, loves the ringing of Jimin's laughter and how his whole body doubles up - but something about the scene twists his chest. Something - it's not hard to guess what it is - the fact that he doesn't fit into this scene, doesn't have the right to wrap his own arms around Namjoon and inspire "ugh, really"s from Hoseok. Envy sits hot and heavy in his chest, and he tries to close it off, control his features from turning ugly with jealousy and want.
This time, however, Jimin just cocks his head to the side and slowly untangles himself from Taehyung, Taehyung whining the whole time. Hoseok's brow furrows.
Jimin sticks his tongue out. "I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for Jungkookie."
Jungkook frowns at that, worry rising - he doesn't want Jimin to feel unwanted, but Jimin just smiles at him, extending his arms out as Jungkook walks over. He pulls Jungkook down next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Jungkook hesitates for a moment, then settles into it, stretching into the feeling of Jimin’s fingers carding through his hair.
He catches Namjoon's eyes, once, Namjoon's gaze hooded and focused on them curled into each other and smiles as he does. Namjoon rips his glance away and Jungkook flushes, shifting uncomfortably in Jimin's gaze.
Jimin laughs, slow and soft, into Jungkook's ear. "I think someone's jealous," he murmurs, and Jungkook flushes right down to his toes.
The next movie night, Namjoon stands up as soon as Jungkook enters, gesturing at the seat next to him. Jungkook sits down awkwardly, Namjoon pressing a beer into his hand, asking how his week was, Namjoon's arm settled on the back of the couch, nearly - but not quite - wrapping around Jungkook's shoulders. Jimin catches Jungkook's eyes and laughs, his eyes sparkling.
Jungkook's phone buzzes, a message from Jimin flashing across the screen.
Go for it.
Jungkook turns his phone face down quickly.
"Hey, hyung," he murmurs as the movie starts. "I'm hungry, do you want to grab fried chicken later?"
Namjoon nods absentmindedly, his gaze fixed on the screen, but his fingers tighten into the plush of the couch behind Jungkook. "Yeah," he says, "sounds good."
Jimin high-fived him when they left.
Namjoon holds the door open for Jungkook, and Jungkook laughs. "So gentlemanly, hyung."
Namjoon glances down at his feet. "Does that get me out of paying for chicken?" he asks.
Jungkook sticks out his tongue. " Hyunggg," he starts to whine, and Namjoon just laughs, cutting him off.
"Okay, okay," he says, holding his hands up in surrender. "Where do you want to go?"
Jungkook purses his lips. "I don't know, you live closer to here, and I always prefer Jin-hyung's cooking to going out."
Namjoon laughs. "I don't usually get -," he sighs, taking out his phone and quickly searching on Naver. "How about this one?"
Jungkook nods without really looking at it. "Lead the way, hyung." Namjoon shivers slightly as they walk, and Jungkook frowns, looking over his outfit - the denim overalls and green t-shirt still too thin for the chilly April nights.
"You want my sweatshirt?" he asks, moving to pull his black sweatshirt over his head. He feels the rush of cold air against his stomach as his shirt rides up and winces - Namjoon must really be freezing.
"No!" Namjoon says, a little too loudly, and Jungkook startles, the sweatshirt half-off. Namjoon hesitates for a moment, then continues, "Ah. It's really fine. The alcohol helps."
Jungkook shrugs, pulling the sweatshirt and his own t-shirt back down. "Suit yourself," he says. "Did you like the movie?"
Namjoon cocks his head to the side. "Honestly, I thought it was a little too on the nose - I mean, I get the whole "family as the real horror" thing, but I ended up getting a little bored of it. I don’t know.” He glances down at his hands. "Might be my own family issues talking."
Jungkook nods. "I just thought it was creepy when the girl got decapitated like that."
Namjoon laughs, short and stilted. "Yeah."
They walk in silence for a few beats, the hum of traffic almost comforting until Jungkook brushes his shoulder against Namjoon's. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, quietly.
Namjoon shrugs. "Nothing new," he says, "just, you know." The rest of the words settle between them, unsaid - you know, I didn't go home for New Year, and so you didn't go home, either, and we spent the day on the phone with your mother and Jin-hyung, making terrible tteokguk until we gave in and ordered in, and even that was sort of terrible - and Jungkook just nods, slipping his arm into Namjoon's.
"Yeah," he says, then glances up at the sky. "Did I ever show you the pictures I took?"
Namjoon shook his head, and Jungkook smiles excitedly, pulling out his phone. "I mean, they're not the best, but..."
He flips through his camera roll, skipping through a series of embarrassing selfies that Namjoon giggles at until Jungkook glares at him in response, finally settling on their cooking adventures.
He'd meant to send them to Jin as a sort of victory montage, accompanying his exercise progress pictures, but instead they showed a slow descent into insanity. The first picture was cute - him and Namjoon, Namjoon's eyes closed into crescents as he smiled, holding up their bowl of soaking rice cakes, Jungkook's head resting on Namjoon's shoulder, pouting into the camera.
The next photo shows Namjoon frowning down at a head of garlic, knife held uncertainly in his grasp. Jungkook had thought, at the time, it would make a nice before and after.
The after, unfortunately, shows Namjoon glaring down at the garlic as he attempted to mince the garlic, mostly succeeding in cutting air.
This picture inspired a harried phone call from Jin, his voice rising ever and ever louder as he tried to explain to Namjoon how to hold a knife properly to mince garlic, and no, that wasn't actually how you removed the garlic peel, it was a lot easier just to mash them down and remove it instead of peeling each one individually and his mother was going to kill him if he didn't get off the phone but he expected to come home to a Namjoon with all of his fingers still attached, so could you please take over chopping, Jungkook?
Jungkook pauses on the next photo. He'd briefly considered making this one his phone background, before finally settling on "no, that would be creepy." Namjoon smiles right into the camera, holding a wooden spatula in his hand as he gestures dramatically at the bubbling pot, dimples on full display. He'd been bragging at the time, about how this wasn't so hard, after all.
Pride looked good on him.
This was immediately before they realized they needed to simmer the beef for one and half hours in order to make the broth properly.
And, well, Jungkook wasn't a great cook, but he figured thirty minutes would be enough.
There's a single photo of their two bowls of soup - the broth troublingly clear, the egg garnish in the shape of a deformed ball instead of elegant strips, full cloves of garlic floating on top - when they'd sent it to Jin, they just received a voice memo of his windshield wiper laugh for a minute straight.
The last photo shows both of them with their plates of take-out japchae, Namjoon throwing up a peace sign as Jungkook stared fixedly down at their food, pouting, a pair of chopsticks already in his hand.
Namjoon laughs as he thumbs through the photos. "That was a good night, wasn't it?"
"Mmm, except for the bit where I was so hungry I was about to eat you, yeah," Jungkook answers.
Namjoon hands Jungkook's phone back, a smile dimpling his cheeks. "Thanks," he says. "That was..." he pauses. "That day's a good memory, now. So. Thanks for staying in Seoul with me."
Jungkook shrugs. "Busan's far, anyway," he answers.
Namjoon stops in his tracks for a moment, stopping Jungkook with him. He grabs Jungkook's hands, turning Jungkook to face him, staring. Jungkook diverts his eyes, and Namjoon huffs. "You never meet my eyes, you know that?"
Jungkook flushes. "I just..."
"Just," Namjoon starts. "Sorry. I don't mean to interrupt you. It's just... you have no idea how good you are, do you?"
Jungkook blinks.
Namjoon's grip on his hands tightens, his gaze becoming increasingly intense as he stares at Jungkook, Jungkook finally meeting his hooded eyes. Namjoon's eyes blaze with an intensity Jungkook's rarely seen, and never directed at him - usually at some text he can't quite work out, a paragraph that he doesn't fully understand as he mutters about it, walking through his apartment, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, footsteps pacing - that same intensity flares in his eyes for a split second, before burning out.
Namjoon shakes his head. "Nevermind," he says. "I'm actually not that hungry. Do you just want to walk by the river?"
"Uh. Sure," Jungkook answers. "I'm a little hungry though..."
Namjoon laughs. "Yeah, yeah, you're lifting now. I'll get you some chicken skewers, I promise.”
Toys
It took Jungkook months to feel comfortable visiting Hoseok at work. It's not that he's a prude - he's never thought of himself that way, had his own fair share of one night stands and drunken hookups, but there's something about the set-up of Hope World: the big, boxy, almost warehouse-like outside, the elegant and cozy interior design (Hoseok took special pride in the displays, often running them by Jungkook to see what looked the most appealing) really got to him.
The first time he saw the store, he assumed it was a furniture store, until Taehyung dragged him inside with a grin, asking "which one of these do you think would be the best for Jimin."
And, okay, maybe it was the over-involvement in his friend's sex life that made him not want to visit Hoseok's sex shop again, but.
But today's a big day for him, and Jungkook had promised that he would come. They'd been established in Itaewon for a few years now, slowly expanding their client base, and today was a celebration and an announcement. They'd joined the Queer Culture Festival, offering discounts for the days of the Festival, and it was a risk - they all knew it. Bad enough to run a sex shop, but to cover your sex shop in rainbow flags and hope for the best -
But Hobi had insisted, said the whole point of Hope World was to make people feel more joy, to take ownership of their bodies and have fun - and it couldn't if Hoseok [or j-hope, as he laughingly called himself] wasn’t having fun, too.
He enters cautiously, eyes widening at the pink and purple balloons strewn everywhere, the ribbons set between the model dildos and clit stimulators. In the front, displayed in yellow, bubbly letters read : J-HOPE'S PICKS
Jungkook glances briefly over at the selection of colorful dildos and anal beads, accompanied with silicon lube and detailed instructions about the proper way to clean toys, and realizes he is in over his head.
The store bustles with noise and customers, some couples giggling to each other as they make their way through the bdsm aisle, glancing at the handcuffs - ranging from the bright red novelty pairs to more serious ones with careful instructions - and the written guides on proper ropeplay.
Hobi wrote those guides himself, Jungkook knew - he'd helped edit them a few times, when Namjoon or Seokjin were too busy to proof-read.
They were good, really good, funny and serious and accessible - and Jungkook couldn't look his roommate in the eyes for the next two days. But he offered to help illustrate anyway, and it seemed like Hobi had taken him up on it, a few of Jungkook's more tasteful prints displayed between the cock rings and couple's vibrators.
A flash of red hair catches his eye, and Jungkook turns, jumping. "Hey!" Hoseok calls. "Thanks for coming!" He's glowing, in more ways than one - wearing a simple red crop top and cut-off shorts, his tan skin shining and cheekbones glimmering with pink, purple and blue glitter. Even the way Hoseok walks, here, always takes Jungkook back - not just like he owns the place (because of course he does) but that he wants you to feel like you own it too. He remembers the planning of it -
"I want people to feel at home," Hoseok had said, his hair falling over his eyes as his new designer sketched the interior.
"It's a sex shop," the designer laughed, "not a cafe."
Hoseok shrugged. "Just. Just make it homey."
Glancing around now, he thinks Hoseok succeeded.
Jungkook laughs. "Yeah, wouldn't miss it for the world."
Hoseok grins, his heart-shaped smile blazing in full force. "Want to look around?"
Jungkook blushes. "I'm not sure that I..."
"Come on," he says, "you don't have to buy anything, don't worry about that. Just - look, okay?"
A voice calls his name and Hoseok whirls around, leaving Jungkook to stand in front of a display of condoms alone.
He wanders around absentmindedly, his gaze flitting from and returning to the exact same place - he'd wanted one for a while, but honestly, they were a little expensive, and - and it was a little weird, wasn't it, to buy something from your roommate's sex shop? Except. Well, there weren't many good sex shops in Seoul, even fewer that carried packers, and. He keeps worrying it over in his mind, the possible embarrassment, the expense, until he smacks right into a short, blond-haired man.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Jungkook says. "I wasn't paying attention."
The man laughs. "Yeah, I caught that," he says. "Are you looking for something?"
Jungkook shakes his head. "No, my roommate - j-hope, I guess you know him - just wanted me to come by today, so."
"Oh, yeah," he answers, "I'm a good friend of his. You must be Jungkook, then," he answers. "I'm Yoongi."
Jungkook grins, bowing his head slightly. "Nice to meet you, hyung."
"You sure you don't want anything?" Yoongi asks. "I know this shop pretty well, so..."
Jungkook laughs. "Honestly, I'm not sure, but I don't know if Hobi will let me leave without getting something, he keeps saying that I need to 'explore the joy of movement', or something."
Yoongi gives him a wry smile. "Yeah, he does like to say that." Yoongi glances at him, and then sighs. "Hoseok talks about you a lot, you know. And I saw you staring before, so... if you want any help, just let me know. Really."
There's something in how Yoongi says it, the words heavy and soft at the same time, that catches Jungkook's attention. Yoongi smiles at him, a big, gummy smile, and Jungkook lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding.
He had been staring. And. Tomorrow they’re going to pride, and he really, really wants to wear a packer with the chained black shorts he’d already picked out.
Jungkook sighs. "Okay," he says. "What do you recommend?"
Yoongi guides him through the process with expertise, soft-spoken and certain, ringing him up separately. The discount for the weekend is better than Jungkook expected, a part of him singing with happiness as he hands over his card.
"I’ve got a few hours to kill until Hoseok’s done,” Yoongi says as he prints out the receipt, "If you want to grab dinner with me.”
"Yeah, okay."
Jungkook smirked at Yoongi, grease still coating the outside of his mouth. "So, you're the hot architect friend, huh?"
Yoongi rolls his eyes. "Please don't tell me they really call me that."
"Only Seokjin-hyung," Jungkook answers around a mouthful of lamb.
Yoongi shakes his head in mock-irritation, but even Jungkook can catch the hint of a smile on his lips. "Terrible," he says, "absolutely terrible."
Jungkook scrunches his nose up in a fond smile.
"They talk about you, you know," Yoongi continues. "I wanted to meet you sooner, do the whole big brother thing, but you always seemed to be leaving as soon as I got there."
Jungkook laughs. "Yeah, my hours really suck," he says. " And you never come to movie night."
Yoongi raises an eyebrow. "Maybe if you stop watching horror movies, I would. Besides, Hobi says it's all gross couples."
Jungkook giggles. "Yeah, Taehyung and Jimin can be a bit much..."
"Mmmm, he meant you, too."
Jungkook flushes. "It's not really..." he fiddles with his hands. "I mean. I don't know."
Yoongi waits patiently as Jungkook continues.
"It's just -," he sighs. "I mean. You know how it is. It's - normally, I would know, but. I asked someone else out, before, and - he seemed like he liked me, too, but... ended up being a 'I don't really see you that way' situation." Jungkook let out a frustrated exhale.
Yoongi cocks his head to the side. "Namjoon doesn't seem like the type."
Jungkook snorts. "Neither did that guy, and he - he tried to make it seem like he only saw me as a friend, but, well, you know how it is. He meant he didn't really see me as a man."
Yoongi's gaze doesn't waver. "Yeah. I knew what you meant. And Namjoon doesn't seem like that type, to me."
Jungkook shrugs. "No one does, do they?" He sighs, picking at his food. "Anyway. I don't really ask people out anymore, after that. I ended up burning out of the whole friend group by the end of it, and I just - I can't do that again, hyung."
"I really don't think that will happen," Yoongi says, taking his hand. "Even if Namjoon doesn't want to date you - which I really, really doubt - it would be for a different reason."
Jungkook pouts his lower lip out in frustration. "Yeah. I guess." He hesitates, then looks up at Yoongi, eyes sparkling. "How did you do it?"
Yoongi smiles, gums on full display. "Have you seen Kim Seokjin? I couldn't think properly enough to be nervous."
Jungkook giggles in response, bringing another spoonful to his lips. "Seokjin-hyung's face has that effect on people."
"And Namjoon's thighs, apparently," Yoongi deadpans.
Jungkook chokes on his food.
Risks
In retrospect, Jungkook thinks, everything really began with Hoseok. His first roommate, after college, found through an online ad and desperate hoping that he wasn't a creep - and Hobi wasn't, was the opposite of a creep, in fact. He'd told Hobi first, when he'd decided to change his name, trusted Hobi to tell everyone else. Somehow, the idea of sending a text to the group - or, even worse, to everyone individually - just to tell them filled his stomach with lead. Telling them in person seemed worse.
He didn't know what Hobi did, exactly, but the next time they had a movie night, everyone called him Jungkookie, and he couldn't stop smiling.
So. He knew he owed Hobi, knew he trusted him - but at this moment, staring at the outfit in front of him, a ball of snakes twisting in his belly, he wasn't so sure.
"Are you ready Jungkookie?" Hobi calls.
Jungkook frowns for a moment. "Uh, I think so?"
He is not ready. He shouldn't have agreed to this - all of Taehyung's big, bright smiles, Jimin's smug grins, should not have been enough to get him to agree to - to this. His phone buzzes, and he leaps towards it, hoping it's a cancellation - if Namjoon isn't coming, then -
He scrunches his nose as he reads the text.
Jimin-hyung: You've got this!!
Fuck.
He does not "got this."
A knock at the door startles him.
"Jungkookie, can I come in?" Hoseok calls, his voice light and sing-song.
Jungkook opens the door, groaning as he does.
Hoseok looks him over, taking in his stained plaid pajamas and lack of shirt, and frowns. "So, when you said you were almost ready..."
Jungkook groans. "I don't think I can do this."
Hoseok sighs, sitting down gingerly on Jungkook's bed. He wears a near-copy of his outfit the previous day at Hope World, but the shorts are cut much, much shorter, the red crop top replaced with a white one, a spray-painted smiley face (courtesy of Taehyung, apparently), decorating the back. The pink, purple, and blue glitter is back, but bigger, covering nearly his entire left cheek, and Jungkook spares one moment to mourn the state of their sink. "You don't want to come with us?"
Jungkook groans again, more loudly. "Uh. I do, but..." he says. He gestures at the pile of clothes strewn around the room. "I mean, what do I even wear?"
Hoseok raised an eyebrow. "You can wear anything, you know that, right? It's not like there's a bouncer at the pride parade."
Jungkook glares at him.
The corner of Hoseok's mouth turns up. "Seriously, Jungkookie. Today's supposed to be fun, you don't need to stress out like this."
Anxiety rises in Jungkook's chest as Hoseok speaks, and Hoseok seems to catch it, extending a hand out to pull Jungkook into a close, tight hug.
Jungkook relaxes into Hoseok's grip, breathing in and out slowly as Hoseok rubs comforting circles on his back. He can feel tears trickling down his cheek, white hot, and he tries to pull away, worried about ruining Hoseok's outfit, but Hoseok just pulls him in closer instead.
"Did I ever tell you about the first time I went to the pride parade?" Hoseok asks. "I went with Seokjin-hyung, actually, which - not a great idea, he ended up asking me to pretend to be his boyfriend the whole time and then we got fucked up on all the free shots -,"
Jungkook giggles. "I wouldn't say no to free shots."
Hoseok laughs. "Oh, trust me, we'll get plenty of them with Jimin and Taehyung. You know, I was so nervous, that somehow - someone would be able to tell it was my first time at pride, and then - I don't know, run up and tell me I didn't belong there or kick me out." He frowns for a moment. "I mean, we did get kicked out eventually, but that was because hyung kept arguing with the bartender about the proper order to take tequila shots."
Jungkook sniffles. "He's wrong," he mutters into Hoseok's shoulder. "Why does he do salt last?"
Hoseok nods. "Yeah, yeah, he's definitely wrong, but you try arguing with him about it."
Jungkook laughs, a little snottily, but a real, true laugh. "I did, he nearly kicked me out of the apartment."
Hoseok grins. "Yeah, he told me. Anyway. The point is - nothing bad happened." Hoseok frowns for a moment. "Well, hyung and I got really drunk and wandered into the wrong apartment building and tried to break into someone's else's unit, thinking it was hyung's, but - that's when we met Yoongi-hyung, so I can't be too mad about it."
Jungkook's eyes widen. "You owe me that story."
Hoseok grins brightly. "If you can get dressed in the next ten minutes, I'll tell you," he says, laughing. He leans over the side of the bed, grabbing a pack of tissues. "Come on, let's wipe your face and get going."
Jungkook glances at the array of clothes on the floor, and his body in the mirror, and takes a slow, deep breath, and smiles.
Pride
Sweat pours down Jungkook's face, smearing the face paint Taehyung had excitedly slapped on during their subway ride over. He needs water, desperately, but there's no space to move, his body pressed against Namjoon's, Namjoon's arms wrapping around his waist to keep him close.
Jimin winks at them when he finds them, and Jungkook just rolls his eyes in response.
"Want to get out of here?" Namjoon asks into Jungkook's ear, and Jungkook nods gratefully.
Namjoon guides their way out of the crowd, pulling Jungkook away from the crowded streets to a quiet side cafe. Jungkook grabs a lemonade, glugging down the drink desperately - his head is starting to pound from dehydration, the alcohol of the morning wearing off into an early hangover.
Namjoon keeps a steadying hand on his lower back. "How're you feeling?" he asks.
"Uh. It's a lot. But it's..." he frowns. "It's really nice. A celebration of love, sort of." The words feel thick and sticky against his tongue, almost cloying. The uneasiness from the day before settling in his body finally has a name - the old "love is love" narratives feel very strange, he thinks, when his body still curls with tension trying to figure out if - if Namjoon will really ever see him that way, or if it's another old repeat.
Namjoon sets his coffee down, tilting his head down slightly to stare into Jungkook's eyes. Jungkook averts his gaze, but the intensity remains, and he can feel the flush rising on his skin.
"Seriously, Jungkookie, if something's wrong..."
Jungkook shakes his head but can feel the wetness brimming behind his eyes and sniffles. Namjoon's face pales as he cups Jungkook's face gently.
"Did something happen? I tried to make sure no one got to close, but..." his voice is tight and angry, and Jungkook shakes his head quickly.
"No, no, nothing like that, hyung, it's just..." he spits the words out. "The whole love thing, and - and a conversation from yesterday, and sometimes I worry no one will want me."
Namjoon laughs, a soft, breathy laugh, and Jungkook would be almost offended if he didn't know the laugh so well, the same awkward one he makes when he drops another one of Hoseok-hyung's figurines or trips over his feet. Nervous.
"Why wouldn't they?" Namjoon asks, softly. "You're wonderful, Jungkookie."
Jungkook shakes his head again, the tears now coming down in earnest, and he's far, far too dehydrated for this but he really can't stop them, at this point. It's just too funny, Namjoon saying that in the same loving tone Jungkook's always imagined, except without all the other elements of the fantasy, the most important element, the love confession.
Jungkook ducks his head, turning his cheek against Namjoon's palm as Namjoon carefully wipes his cheek. He mutters something, and Namjoon laughs again.
"I can't really hear you."
Jungkook mutters again, more loudly. "Anyway. Weren't you going to start dating?'
Namjoon laughs, the same awkward, nervous laugh. "Uh. The person didn't seem interested, so." He shrugs. "Working on getting over them."
Jungkook's heart pounds as he nearly mimics Namjoon's words back to him. "How could they not be?" He laughs, soft and bitter. "You're more wonderful than I am."
Namjoon freezes for a moment, caresses stilling against Jungkook's cheek, and then cocks his head to the side, considering. "Jungkook..." he pauses. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Jungkook tilts his head to the side. "I'm... a little dehydrated, but yeah."
Namjoon blinks at him. "You're not usually cruel," Namjoon says, half to himself, his voice breaking on the last word. "Do you really not...do you really not know, Jungkook?"
He looks up again, his gaze meeting Jungkook's. Jungkook nearly averts his eyes, his own view still blurry but - but this time, Namjoon's eyes shimmer, deep and powerful, and Jungkook can't quite manage to tear his gaze away.
"Jungkook," Namjoon whispers, and it sounds almost like a prayer, "Jungkook, did you not know I was talking about you?"
Jungkook freezes.
Namjoon continues, tone still hushed, still serious. "Jungkook, I thought you knew, but you didn't..." He shakes his head. "I thought you were letting me down easy, but that was a little too mean, and..."
Jungkook's eyes widen, words coming out of him in a flood. "I wasn't - I - I wasn't letting you down easy, I wasn't letting you down at all, are you..." His heart pounds a quick staccato rhythm. "God, please don't be over me, I didn't - I didn't know, hyung, I promise, or I would have - literally since the moment I met you are you kidding me how could you -"
Namjoon laughs, again, this one small and shaky but real, carrying joy, his dimples making deep indents. "Hoseok did tell me you... you weren't good at the subtle stuff. Okay. Use your words, Namjoon." He takes a slow, shuddering breath.
Before Namjoon can speak, Jungkook surges forward, pressing his lips against Namjoon's. Namjoon tastes of coffee and cheap vodka, his hands falling as Jungkook presses against him, and for one terrible, twisting moment Jungkook wonders if somehow he misunderstood, if this wasn't what Namjoon meant. And then Namjoon's arms wrap around his waist, Namjoon's lips parting as he pulled him in closer. Jungkook smiles into it, hand curling into Namjoon's hair, Namjoon's grip tightening on his waist.
A buzz rattles against his thigh, and Jungkook startles, pulling back.
"Fuck," Namjoon groans, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Oh, dammit, they're looking for us."
Jungkook giggles. "We could..." He pauses. "No, Jin-hyung would kill us."
Namjoon groans, texting quickly. "I'll. I'll tell them we'll be right there, okay?" He smiles at Jungkook, a big, dopey grin. He shoves the phone back in his pocket, taking Jungkook's hand instead, kissing his fingertips. Jungkook flushes, pulling his hand back.
Namjoon grins. "You're stuck with me, now," he says, grabbing Jungkook's hand back. "I mean. Unless you don't want to be."
Jungkook brings his other hand to his forehead in mock irritation. "My boyfriend is such an idiot," he answers.
Namjoon laughs. "Oh, Hoseok is never going to let me live this down."
Seokjin swings the door open, takes one glance at their intertwined hands and starts cackling. "I knew it, I told them not to bother you!"
Jungkook blushes bright red and Jimin coos. "Come on, you're embarrassing him."
Seokjin gives them both a once-over. "I don't know, Namjoon looks pretty smug about the whole thing."
"Wouldn't you be?" Namjoon answers cheerily, wrapping an arm around Jungkook's waist and pulling him closer.
Hoseok groans. "Fuck. Fuck," he mutters, "oh, fuck, they're going to be so terrible. Are they going to be the worst?"
"I resent that," Taehyung counters, his hands fully cupping Jimin's ass. "It's a hard-earned title."
Hoseok stares at him for a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, you know what. You two win. Fuck, I need some water."
Yoongi nods in weary agreement. "Water. Change. Bed," he chants. "I'm fucking exhausted."
"Wait, wait, wait," Jimin interjects, wiggling out of Taehyung's lap. "Come on. This is a historic moment. We need documentation."
Yoongi groans. "Okay. Okay. One photo, and then bed." He pauses for a moment, glancing between Jungkook and Namjoon. "Just. Just act normal."
Seokjin snickers as they all pile together, Jimin leaning against Taehyung, Jungkook wrapping his arms around Namjoon. Namjoon presses his lips against Jungkook's neck, Jungkook giggling.
"Okay, ready?" Hoseok asks. "1..."
"Wait," Jungkook whispers, "you're my boyfriend now, right?"
"2..."
"He's my boyfriend!" Namjoon shouts, and the room bursts into laughter.
