Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The bass of the loud music is almost completely drowned out in Jungkook’s mind. His own thoughts are numbing enough to make it sound like he is under water rather than in the basement of a gritty college party. Jungkook sits—knees anxiously pressed together—on a ratty couch as two girls beside him pass a joint around, the smoke tickling at his nose. 

He has been sitting there ever since he lost Seokjin somewhere in the crowd of people. If he had to guess, the grad student is probably playing beer pong by now. He was always able to fit in with the younger crowd better than expected. Better than Jungkook. 

The warm solo cup of mysterious liquid, that was pushed into his hand earlier, stays completely neglected. More so there as a sense of security than anything else, a way of saying I belong at this party . Although he really would rather be anywhere else.

Seokjin had already wrapped him into taking two shots before leaving the elder’s apartment which was enough for him to feel slightly buzzed. Even so, the fuzziness coating his senses has nothing to do with the vodka currently stinging at his stomach.

It has everything to do with a pretty senior boy that's far too captivating to be real. He has a talent for making everyone else in the room disappear, and an even better musical ability that still leaves Jungkook in awe. Taehyung was the most talented guitarist in the music department and the most gorgeous man on the entire campus, at least by Jungkook's standards. 

Hell, Taehyung may just be the most beautiful person he's seen in real life.

And he is currently in the same neon-lit basement but, unlike Jungkook, looks to be having the time of his life. One of his friends, Jungkook knows from extensive stalking that his name is Jimin, is unceremoniously pouring tequila into Taehyung’s mouth—the two of them smiling so bright that it hurts Jungkook’s eyes. 

It wasn’t until ten minutes ago that Jungkook even knew Taehyung was at this party. And since then, Jungkook has been gathering up the courage to say something, anything to him.

They aren’t exactly friends even though they’re in the same department. In reality the older male barely knows Jungkook exists—despite the numerous music events and meetings they’ve both attended.

Hell, even despite the two having a few classes together over the last of year.

However, That doesn’t stop Jungkook from having a horribly disgusting crush on the senior. Or maybe an unhealthy level of admiration is a better term.

He still remembers the first time meeting Taehyung as a bright-eyed freshman. Jungkook is typically an introvert, but as soon as he met the then junior boy, he was starry eyed and hooked on the idea of getting his attention. And Jungkook really hates when things don't go his way. Hates how it manifests in a stomach curling anxiety when his hopes and expectations are crushed.

He remembers the freshman welcome showcase vividly—some of the older students took turns giving advice, demonstrating what they’ve achieved so far at the university. Taehyung took the opportunity to step in front of all the freshmen in the music department, guitar in hand and a cocky air about him. Jungkook was hooked at first glance.

Whereas most students were speaking on music production or classical instruments—Taehyung instead plugged his blood red electric guitar into an amp and played the filthiest riff Jungkook has ever heard in person. 

The performance made him feel weak in the knees.

The way Taehyung’s long hair covered his eyes and his manicured nails danced along the strings with practice. Jungkook never thought he would be turned on by hands but boy was he wrong. Taehyung had massive, yet delicate hands with long fingers perfect for playing the guitar, decorated with black nail polish and pretty silver rings that managed to catch light.

Jungkook was still buzzing even when the song ended and his classmates roared in applause, all the freshmen with the same look of adoration Jungkook guessed was also on his face. It’s safe to say that Taehyung became the hottest topic amongst the freshmen.

Jungkook eavesdropped on conversations about how Taehyung was a campus legend because of his impressive rock band and scandalous reputation in the bedroom—the latter part making Jungkook feel dizzy with want. And ever since he saw Kim Taehyung for the first time, Jungkook has been trying to get the older male to notice him.

One year later and it hasn’t happened. And the sad part is that he tried . 

Every time Jungkook finally gathered up the courage to talk to the boy, he fails. Or rather, he gets ignored.

You would think that getting shut down so many times would deter the boy but all it does is light a fire in him—after he’s done reeling from the embarrassment. Jungkook was a bit of a golden child, always succeeding in any interest he puts his mind to. And Taehyung could definitely be considered one of his interests. 

It’s such a common occurrence—Jungkook being ignored—that he can remember almost every word Taehyung has ever said to him.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Said to him at the music department fundraiser about a complimentary bag of chips that yes, Jungkook planned to eat.

“No, you can have it." Is what he said instead.

Then there was that time almost three months later that Taehyung came in late to class, shirt inside out and a prominent hickey on his skin where the collar dipped. He dropped down in the seat one away from Jungkook towards the front of the class, the exact opposite of his typical seat. It's pathetic how he kept track of where the guitarist sat.

Jungkook was practically sweating at the proximity, with just one chair separating the two. It was when Taehyung leaned over and whispered, “You got a pencil?” that Jungkook felt himself completely flush all the way down to his toes. 

He handed Taehyung the one he was currently using. The feeling of Taehyung’s fingers brushing against his as he took the pencil from the younger boy was enough to nearly send him into a state of bliss.

“Thanks,” Taehyung whispered back with an adorably boyish grin. Then as quickly as he leaned over, he was gone and settled down into his seat. Jungkook was now out of a pencil and through his many glances over at the older boy couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t even taking notes.

He didn’t hear a word the professor said after that. His mind was swirling with why Taehyung would ask for a pencil but not use it. Was it an excuse to talk to him? Did he do it so their hands could touch? Jungkook knew he had to take this as a shot and carefully planned what he was going to say to Taehyung once the class ended.

However, when the professor finally dismissed the class and Jungkook turned to Taehyung, the words 'do you want to grab lunch' already bubbling on his tongue, the older student had other plans. Taehyung was up and out of his seat in a blink of an eye, heading out the door and leaving Jungkook dumbly saying “do you-” to an empty chair.

Worse of all, Taehyung took his pencil with him. 

The last thing the senior ever said to him was just a month ago. Both of the students were waiting for their orders at the library cafe, Jungkook anxiously boring his eyes into the side of Taehyung’s head.

The older boy hadn’t even noticed the staring, far too engrossed in whatever was on his phone. The school just returned for the Fall semester and this was the first time he was seeing Taehyung again in the flesh.

The summer consisted of Jungkook working his part-time job at a bakery in his hometown then heading home on his bike to lay in bed and social media stalk Taehyung.

He saw him play at gigs with his band, splash around half naked at the beach with friends, and saw his numerous thirst traps that from anyone else would be distasteful. It’s safe to say that it was a hard summer for Jungkook.

But now he is so close to the older boy and he wasn’t going to mess it up this time. This time he will stroll up to Taehyung, say he has noticed him around campus, then ask him if he is free to get together sometime to talk about music or something—anything.

The barista called out Taehyung’s order and Jungkook knew that this was his chance. Taehyung scooped up his drink topped with whipped cream from the barista, who has a noticeable blush rising to her cheeks just from the sight of him.

Then he turned around and faced Jungkook. Not just facing him, but making direct eye contact with him. The brave words Jungkook had lined up die on his tongue and all he could muster was a smile that probably looks more painful than anything.

Taehyung slowly approached him, looking like sin with newly permed hair and golden skin, tanned from the past three months of blistering Summer heat. His soft white cardigan a stark contrast to the black paint on his nails and the matching black hoop in his nose. 

Yet even the knit sweater with its pearl buttons was downright evil because Taehyung chose to forgo a shirt underneath. The cardigan's neckline dipped low enough for Jungkook to catch the smooth shape of the senior's chest.

“Hey,” Taehyung had said to him. 

Holy shit. This was the first time he has approached Jungkook with a greeting. It’s the first time he has even made such heavy eye contact with Jungkook. The younger male felt pinned to the spot with it.

And Jungkook was so in shock that he almost forgot to greet him back, but luckily came to his senses and breathed out an enthusiastic, “Hey!”

His mind immediately started racing, delusions he should've known weren't real coming to the forefront. Is he going to ask to study together? Maybe ask how my summer was or what kind of drink I decided to order. Maybe he will say he has always thought I was cute and would like to go out sometime—

“Yeah hey… Um, you’re kinda in the way” Taehyung said instead, flicking his eyes from Jungkook to the space behind him. His voice was flat, unimpressed.

What? 

“Uh...” is all Jungkook managed to say, his brain feeling sticky and slow like molasses.

“I need a straw… you’re blocking them,” Taehyung said, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like Jungkook is the most oblivious person in the world. It still took Jungkook’s brain a second to catch up to what he means. Once it does, he goes beet red.

“Oh! Shit, I’m so sorry.” He rushed out, jumping away from the counter where the straws are held like it was burning his skin. Rather than the reassuring words that Jungkook was hoping for, all he got was a slight eyebrow raise, almost like the elder was silently judging his behavior.

Taehyung brushed past him to grab a straw and is out the door just like that. The incident mortified Jungkook so much that there was no way he was going to chase after the boy and ask him out like he planned. 

He’s not an idiot by any means, he knows the older boy might never reciprocate his feelings. But Jungkook is a bit of a dreamer, always has been. He can’t help but dream up ideas about everything in life—how he was going to make so many friends in college, was going to become a world famous singer, and how one day Taehyung will be interested in him. The reality though always leaves him feeling pretty damn pathetic. Which isn’t fun.

You’d think he would learn his lesson, but Jungkook is determined if anything. He hates failure, is scared of rejection, but still he tries. It's akin to self harm—setting himself up knowing he'll be disappointed, crushed. But accepting defeat is almost worse.

Now here Jungkook is at a college party, feeling alone with just a red solo cup for company, pathetically staring as Taehyung gets pulled onto the makeshift dance floor. This would be the perfect opportunity right? People approach one another on the dance floor all the time, Jungkook has experienced it himself anytime he tagged along with Seokjin to the clubs that would actually let him in.

All he has to do is strut up to the senior with confidence, pretend like he’s any random student and not alleged sex god Taehyung that Jungkook has a massive hard-on for. His heart pounds harder with the idea, excitement shooting down his veins. Yeah, I'm going to do it.

“Hey!” Jungkook flinches in his seat, his mind coming back down to earth, proven by the shitty music around him filling his ears again.

He looks to his left to see the girls next him—they have somehow expanded to three—looking at him expectantly. The girl closest to Jungkook holds the blunt in her hand, the roll a lot shorter than he remembers it being when they first sat down.

“Do you want a hit, dude?” She shouts over the music, already extending the weed out to him. He eyes it just to avoid looking into her glazed eyes, his mind still too jumbled from his thoughts to be making another decision right now.

“Uh… yeah. Sure, thanks” he says, taking it from her manicured fingers before his mind can catch up.

Jungkook’s not much of a stoner, but the idea of getting a few hits in before taking the plunge and talking to Taehyung… Well, it sounds tempting. He'll do anything to quell the building anxious anticipation in his chest.

He presses the damp end to his lips—nose wrinkling in disgust at the slimy feeling—and takes a deep inhale. The smoke fills his lungs and burns at his throat—probably inhaling too much for someone that typically only partakes in Seokjin's weed brownies.

Before he can react, a nasty cough is bubbling at his throat, cloudy puffs escaping through his nose as he practically shoves the joint back into the girl's hand. He hears laughter around him but ignores it in favor of downing some of the lukewarm alcohol in his cup.

Jungkook lets out a shaky breath, eyes stinging from embarrassment and the heavy coughs. But he doesn’t have time to dwell on that—or even think about the fact that he is definitely reaching crossfaded territory—because he has to approach Taehyung before he pussies out.

However, when Jungkook looks back up to catch the elder on the dance floor, what he sees has his heart plummeting to the floor.

Taehyung—sometime when Jungkook was looking away—must have been approached by someone before he had the chance. The senior is currently holding a cute blonde boy by the waist, grinding against him perfectly to the beat of the music.

The sight has the burning feeling of jealousy rising up his throat and suffocating him. He wants to leave—or at least look away—but his brain can’t seem to make his legs work. So he just sits and watches.

He watches as Taehyung uses one of his big hands to push sweaty hair from his face, the other one still inside his dancing partner’s shirt. Jungkook wonders what it would feel like to have those hands on his own body. Would they be warm? Would they be soft to the touch like they look or would he feel the rough calluses from years on the guitar?

It doesn't help that Taehyung looks more deadly than he does around campus. He's dressed much more like he does when he performs with his band, his body practically dripping with sex.

A sheer black cropped top dons his broad shoulders, cutting off to show his midriff. Under the tan expanse of skin is the band of his underwear peeking over his jeans. It’s not a look that many college boys can pull off, but Taehyung makes it look so devilish. Like he really was a rockstar that stumbled upon this party.

Jungkook is fixated on the way Taehyung grips at the boy's hip, his own body rolling forward fluidly, when he suddenly feels the distinct pressure of eyes on him. A cool shiver runs down his spine as he flicks his doe eyes up to connect with the devil himself.

Taehyung looks at him from across the room, eyes half lidded but unquestionably on Jungkook. The younger male’s breath gets caught in his throat, entire body flushing at being caught staring at the older male.

It’s too much for him, feelings already heightened from the mix of weed and alcohol. His gaze feels like it’s burning a hole straight through Jungkook’s soul, like he can see all of the sophomore’s dirty little secrets. It alone has Jungkook tingling all over.

Then, as if Jungkook wasn’t struggling enough already, the senior smirks at him. The purple neon lights bounce off Taehyung’s pearly teeth, his tongue glimmering as he licks over his full lips and stares at Jungkook with so much intensity that the younger boy nearly suffocates.

He has to get out. 

Jungkook’s legs finally spring alive as his fight or flight instinct kicks in. The sad part being that he almost almost picks flight. 

He barely registers anything as he’s pushing past the sea of overly drunk university students, not even bothering to apologize when he feels his cup of red liquid slosh and spill on someone. All he can think is get out, get out as he clambers up the stairs and out the door.

He doesn’t breathe until the late August air hits his face and finally fills up his burning lungs.

He slides down the side of the house, still thrumming from the bass of the music and the feeling of Taehyung’s eyes finally on him. 

Jungkook got what he wanted, the guitar player’s attention, and instead of seizing it like he dreamt of all those times… He ran away like a coward. He mentally kicks himself for getting so worked up, blaming it on the mix of weed and alcohol in his system—and the jealously curling in his stomach

Jungkook rests his head against the brick wall, eyes closing as he begs his heart to calm down. The late summer air rustles the curls of his long hair and nips at his bare arms. It feels good though, way better than the heat of sweaty bodies that the party holds.

—

“He looked at you?” 

“Yeah like… I swear he was staring into my soul.” Jungkook says. The textbook he was reading stayed neglected by his legs—no studying was going to get done now that they were talking about Taehyung.

“Right…” Seokjin gives him a look that says 'you’re delusional' as his long limbs stretch out on their shared blanket. It’s the Monday after the party but luckily Jungkook’s only class of the day was canceled, leaving the pair to bask in what's left of Summer.

It was the perfect opportunity to catch up on the work he neglected all weekend—Sunday consisted of him moping about, barely leaving his bed. Jungkook should’ve known when Seokjin suggested they study out in the courtyard that no work was going to get done.

“He did! Why is that so hard to believe?” Jungkook pouts down at Seokjin, who is closing his eyes peacefully like he didn’t just insinuate his friend is a liar.

“Remember that time you thought he wrote a song about you?” He snorts, smile on his face despite the knife he's planting in Jungkook's back.

“I didn’t think he wrote a song about me,” Jungkook immediately gets defensive. “I just had really relatable lyrics is all…”

“Mhm.”

“Hyung, seriously. That’s not even fair, I said that after drinking an entire bottle of wine.” He huffs, “It was a fucking joke.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Seokjin sits up again, finally looking at Jungkook to show he’s listening. Jungkook's demeanor softens, cheeks still flushed at the embarassing memory. “What else happened?”

Jungkook sighs, “Nothing really… He smirked at me I think. I don’t know, I'm starting to think I did imagine that part.”

“He smirked at you? While he was humping another guy on the dance floor?” Jungkook blushes, not appreciating the way it sounds from Seokjin’s mouth. He can feel an onslaught of teasing approaching.

“Like I said…” Jungkook, no longer wanting to talk about Taehyung, picks up his textbook. “I might have imagined that. I smoked some random girl’s weed. Who knows what was in that shit.”

“Maybe.” Seokjin shrugs, satisfied with letting the conversation drop. That was something Jungkook really enjoyed about the grad student, if Jungkook didn’t want to talk he wouldn’t push. Seokjin understood boundaries which is why the younger boy has always felt comfortable around him. It's hard enough navigating his own thoughts let alone explaining them to someone else.

Time passed with Seokjin laying on his back, probably asleep, and Jungkook staring at the same page in his book, not actually reading. His mind was still full of long black hair and sharp eyes. He's replayed the scene so many times that it's starting to sting less—thought the burn of arousal has yet to leave.

Maybe Jungkook really did imagine it all. The alcohol and weed infiltrated his mind, made him see what he wanted rather than reality. Because in reality Taehyung doesn't look at him like that.

In reality Taehyung is something Jungkook admires but never touches, like a star in a literal and metaphorical sense. He just has to get over that.

—

It’s been a week since Jungkook saw Taehyung last but the younger truthfully has been too busy to think about him. Classes have been—in every sense—kicking his ass. Now that it’s Friday, all the boy wants to do is crawl in bed. 

But unfortunately for him, it was his birthday. And his birthday meant getting dragged out of his dorm by Seokjin and pumped full of copious amounts of alcohol.

Jungkook sighs, staring blankly in his closet as Seokjin busies himself with eating cake. The sophomore tried avoiding this all, telling Seokjin he wasn’t feeling well. Just when he naively thought it worked, Seokjin shows up pounding on the door with a small bunny shaped cake in one hand.

Seokjin has always been like this, going above and beyond to take Jungkook out of his comfort zone with promises that it will be fun . It usually is too, but Jungkook would never admit that.

Jungkook and Seokjin became neighbors when the elder’s parents moved to be closer to their son’s college in Boston. They then became friends during Seokjin’s first summer home from college and since then, Seokjin made Jungkook’s birthday a top priority for some strange reason.

Tonight was about to be worse of all because Jungkook was finally turning twenty-one, which meant Seokjin was going to get him totally plastered. He might even make the younger boy take twenty-one shots. Jungkook shivers at the thought.

“Shot time!” Seokjin yells, far too loud for being in Jungkook’s anti-alcohol dorm building. Jungkook just sighs, too tired to nag him for it after the week he's had.

“I still need to get dressed.” He argues, holding a band tee up in the dingy overhead lighting. Too casual.

“Just wear anything, it’s your day.” Seokjin shrugs, carrying two shots over to Jungkook despite his protests.

“But what if…” Jungkook trails off. What if he sees Taehyung?

He knows the elder frequents bars like the one they planned to go to tonight. Jungkook has been surviving his Freshman year off of a fake ID that says he’s from Alaska (and looks nothing like him), meaning that he could only get into the ratty freshman places where the bouncers have no morals.

But now, he could finally go to the bars and clubs that have alcohol that doesn’t taste like complete dog piss. Bars that Taehyung parties in, performs in, dances with pretty boys in…

“What if I want to look nice for my birthday?” He finishes instead.

“But you always look nice.” Seokjin says cutely, which makes Jungkook’s face screw up in disgust. 

“Piss off.” He mutters, grabbing a shot from the older to shut him up. It works. 

“Cheers to Jungkook! Happy birthday buddy.” They clink their shot glasses together and throw the liquid back in one go. The burn immediately makes his eyes water, hot fire traveling down his throat and making him cough.

“The fuck..” Jungkook sputters, pounding at his chest to relieve the burn. “What the fuck was that? It tasted like rubbing alcohol”

“Everclear… So yeah pretty much rubbing alcohol.” Seokjin laughs, clearly amused by Jungkook’s wide eyes and red face despite his own coughing. “If you get dressed in the next ten minutes I’ll never make you drink it again.”

That does the trick—in less than ten minutes Jungkook is out the door in a pair of black ripped skinny jeans, a matching t-shirt tucked into the waist. He threw on a lightweight button up overtop, in case the September air decides to bite tonight.

Seokjin had the decency to help Jungkook with his hair, styling his curly wolf cut with some gel, while the younger tied the laces of his black boots.

The walk from campus to the bustling streets of Boston’s nightlife is luckily fairly short and painless, the everclear knocking any feeling out of his body anyways. They wait in line for a few minutes, Jungkook anxiously playing with his lip ring as Seokjin rambles about which specialty shots he was going to force Jungkook to take first. He’s barely listening though.

Jungkook's too distracted by the person he sees at the front of the line, a short figure with platinum blonde hair and dangling earrings that shine in the light. It looks a lot like Jimin, and usually where Jimin is, Taehyung follows.

He has seen the pair together numerous times on campus, as well as on Taehyung’s social media accounts. All he knows about the older male is that he plays rhythm guitar in the same band as Taehyung and that the two are painfully close—yet he could recognize him anywhere because of how much the shorter male stands out.

He doesn’t see the guitarist that’s been plaguing his mind though. Jungkook doesn’t know if the feeling in his stomach is from relief or disappointment.

They finally get inside the overly noisy bar—after Seokjin made a big deal about Jungkook’s new license getting checked for the first time. The pair push through bodies of people and up to the bar, securing two seats with an immense amount of luck that has Jungkook sighing in relief.

“Well, here we are big boy.” Seokjin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, lightly so it doesn’t get completely ruined. Jungkook pulls away from his intrusive hand either way. “Order your first adult drink.”

“I’ve been an adult.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop the small smile on his face.

He waits patiently for the bartender to come and serve them, which makes Seokjin gripe that he isn’t 'trying hard enough' to get the guy to notice them. The elder takes matters into his own hands—holding his credit card out in the air. 

It works like a charm and Jungkook orders a whiskey sour, Seokjin getting himself a beer so he can babysit Jungkook with some level of sobriety.

The drink is amazing, far better than the vodka sodas he had been drinking at the other bars. He’s already feeling buzzed, body tingly from the liquor, when Seokjin announces that it’s time for more shots.

They drink shots ranging in so many colors and flavors that it’s sure to give the pair horrible hangovers the next day. Jungkook just shoots back whatever Seokjin hands him, washing it all down with his second cocktail of the night.

The music thrums in his body as they sit and talk, Jungkook laughing at everything the older boy says. He'll have to blame it on the alcohol tomorrow so Seokjin doesn't get a big head.

They’re arguing about an anime they both watch, neither of them actually caring enough for it to be an actual fight, when a heavy body suddenly crashes into the side of Jungkook.

His drink splashes up, the arm where he was holding it jostled from the drunk college student, and Jungkook curses. Wiping his sticky hand on his pants, Jungkook's eyes dart up, more than ready to shoot a death glare at the intruder.

However, he looks up to see a tan boy with the cherry lips and dark eyes—glazed over with alcohol— that he has practically memorized by now. Taehyung. Jungkook’s breath hitches, his plan to curse out the person dies instantly on his lips as Taehyung stares back. Jungkook notices immediately that the older boy looks unfocused.

“Shit, I’m so fucking sorry!” Jimin appears behind him, pulling Taehyung back (and away from Jungkook) to steady him. “He’s fucking drunk I’m sorry. I'll buy you a new drink.”

Jimin reaches into the back pocket of Taehyung’s impossibly tight jeans and fishes out the older boy’s wallet with a comfortableness that makes Jungkook’s jaw clench.

“It's okay... It's fine.” Jungkook finally speaks, waving him off. His throat suddenly feels dry at the proximity of his unrequited crush. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this close to the older boy, close enough to feel heat from his body and smell his cologne. Even his arm is still tingling from where he felt Taehyung against him.

“Actually, a drink would be nice.” Seokjin chimes in, leaning over, hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, so Jimin could hear him. “It’s my friend here’s birthday!”

Jungkook doesn’t have to look at him to know the grad student was wearing a shit-eating grin right now.

“Oh!” Jimin seems to perk up at that, shifting his weight to lean both him and his oversized best friend towards them. “Happy birthday! How old are you turning?”

Seokjin pokes Jungkook in the ribs when he waits too long to answer. “Twenty-one… I’m uh, twenty-one today.”

“Oh the big two-one? This calls for shots!” Jimin exclaims, grabbing a wad of cash from Taehyung’s wallet and flagging down the bartender.

Jungkook is still stun-locked, not quite believing that this is real life. Taehyung is indirectly buying him a shot on his birthday—he's drunk enough to consider this a win.

“It’s your birthday?” Jungkook freezes at the soft voice in his ear, so close that he can feel breath on his skin. He looks back at Taehyung, the senior’s face still impassive as always but with a new sense of softness. Almost like the alcohol blurred the lines of his usual expression.

“Um... Yeah, it is.” Jungkook anxiously bites at his lip ring, not missing the way Taehyung’s eyes flickered down for a second. It was so quick though that Jungkook doesn’t know if it was his imagination or not.

“Happy birthday.” Then Taehyung smiles, an utterly breathtaking smile that has Jungkook’s heart pounding in his ears. He stares dumbly at the boy, mouth slightly hung open in surprise that he can’t seem to mask (not with the copious amount of alcohol running through his system).

When he finally realizes that he hasn’t thanked Taehyung yet, it’s too late. Jimin is already turning back to the three of them—Jungkook forgot him and Seokjin were even there—with four shot glasses in his small hands.

“Everyone grab a shot, let’s cheers to the birthday boy…” Jimin trails off, realizing they never exchanged names.

“Jungkook.” Seokjin fills in for him.

“Cheers to Jungkook!” Jimin exclaims, the group clinking their glasses together. Jungkook grimaces as the liquid runs down his throat, tequila , but it doesn’t burn nearly as bad as it did a few drinks ago.

Taehyung, despite looking obliterated already, takes it like a champ—somehow still standing after it’s downed. Surely the arm Jimin has around his waist is helping too, Jungkook takes not of it bitterly.

It feels like Jungkook is barely holding his head above water, both ecstatic about being delivered the chance to talk to Taehyung on a silver platter and overwhelmed by all the ways this could go wrong. He’s realizing from the past failures that with Taehyung, you just have to take the plunge.

“Thanks for the shot.” He finally says, directed at Taehyung even though Jimin truthfully did all the work. Taehyung’s eyes are too intense so Jungkook settles for looking at the mole under his eye instead. Pretty.

“Anytime,” Taehyung smirks down at him, sexy despite how obliterated he looks. “So did you get everything you wanted for your birthday?”

Is he flirting? Jungkook blinks a few times to clear the thought from his head. He can’t get ahead of himself again. But with the way Taehyung looks right now, eyes dark and rimmed with black shadow, Jungkook can’t help but fall into his trap.

“Maybe I have now… ” He tries to flirt back, but already sounds too breathless to sound sexy. He takes a sip of his partially spilled drink to clear his throat, hoping he'll come back up with the charisma needed to bag Taehyung.

“What about birthday sex? Is that what he’s for?” Taehyung grins wickedly, nodding his head at Seokjin.

Jungkook chokes on his cocktail, eyes watering as he nearly coughs out a lung. Seokjin, who has been listening to the whole ordeal, removes his hand from Jungkook’s shoulder like it was poison. Jungkook doesn’t have to look back to know that Seokjin’s ears are bright red.

“Taehyung!” Jimin hisses, pinching his arm—hard if the face the taller boy makes is anything to go by.

“We uh, we are just friends… brothers practically.” Seokjin says, recovering a lot faster than Jungkook. Taehyung’s face is unreadable at the new information. Jungkook would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed at the lack of a reaction.

Maybe a part of him was expecting the guitarist to offer up his services for the night. Or make a one-liner about how Jungkook could unwrap him as a gift. God, what's wrong with his mind?

“I’m sorry about him… again .” Jimin tuts, not looking all that sorry. “He’s been drowning his sorrows in liquor as you can probably tell.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook clears his throat when his voice comes out raspy. He feels off-center again, not knowing how to return to the flirtatious conversation he thought they were having.

“The lead singer of our band quit today,” Jimin continues, not caring at all about airing out their dirty laundry. “He’s taking it a little too hard.”

“We had gigs lined up.” Taehyung huffs, an emotion Jungkook can only read as anger replaces the aloof one he’s had all night. “The fucking asshole…”

“Are you planning to look for a replacement?” Seokjin asks, looking a lot more composed than before.

Jimin rolls his eyes, the movement drawing Jungkook’s attention to the shimmery silver eyeshadow decorating them. It’s the first time Jungkook really noticed just how pretty the boy was, with his glossy plump lips, siren eyes, and angled jaw. He’s nicer than Jungkook was expecting too—he can see why Taehyung probably likes him.

He swallows down the envy, knowing it’s not fair to the shorter male who has been nothing but kind to him tonight.

“We probably will, but…” Jimin sighs, sipping from his clear-colored drink. “It’s almost impossible to find someone who fits our genre.”

Smoke Sprite was fairly popular around campus and was doing well in Boston’s underground band scene. Their music was a mix of post-hardcore and indie rock—or emo as non-music junkies would call it. Jungkook imagined it would be difficult to find someone who had the vocal capability for their genre let alone also fit with the band’s aesthetic (which was undeniably important).

“Jungkook can sing.”

The boy in question snaps his head over to Seokjin, the grad student fighting back a pleased smile at his meddling. He was going to kill him.

“Oh?” Jimin blinks in surprise, his intimidating eyes scanning Jungkook up and down, making the younger boy squirm in his seat. “You sing?”

“Yeah I’m a music major actually.” Jungkook shifts his eyes to Taehyung, hoping to see a flicker of recognition on the boy's face. Instead Taehyung just looked completely uninterested and checked out of the conversation.

“Really?” Jimins brows raised, clearly taken aback by the new information. The blonde was most likely surprised at Taehyung’s lack of familiarity when interacting with Jungkook—the music department wasn’t massive by any means. 

“Well we were probably going to make some shitty posters and hang them around campus. But I’m down for us to get together and see how it goes…” Jimin shrugs, an unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Would save us a lot of printer ink.”

Jungkook can see the words coming out of his mouth, can hear them despite the loud bass of the song currently playing, but in no way is he comprehending what Jimin just said. 

“Like a t-tryout?” Jungkook stammers, suddenly feeling way too hot. His arms itch to take off his button down so he does just that, busying himself with tying it around his waist. He catches Taehyung staring at the tattoos on his arm when he looks back up, the older lazily looking away.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Jimin shrugs, playing with his straw in between shiny white teeth.

“You want me to try out…” Jungkook starts with careful words, “for Smoke Sprite?”

Jimin’s brows furrow slightly at Jungkook’s slip up—shit, now they realize he sat here all this time and pretended he didn’t know who they were. Jungkook can feel his face growing even hotter in mortification.

“I don’t see why not,” He says nonchalantly, but his eyes once again show something unreadable. “Unless… you aren’t interested?”

“He’s more than interested.” Seokjin chimes in, slinging an arm around Jungkook. Jimin takes that as an answer.

“Sick, here…” He says, pulling a phone from his pocket—Jungkook half expected him to reach into Taehyung’s again. “Put your number in and I’ll text you deets. No pressure though.”

Jungkook’s hands are shaking when he reaches out to take the phone from Jimin, typing it in with extra caution. He reads his own number over and over again to make sure it’s right before handing the phone back to Jimin.

He dares to look at Taehyung again, wondering what the older male thinks about this whole situation. When he looks up at him he sees that the senior’s eyes are closed, long dark lashes kissing at his blushed cheeks. He’s starting to sway slightly and Jungkook has to resist the strong urge to reach out and hold him by the waist. 

Jimin seems to have the same thought.

“I should probably get this one home,” Jimin says, now more alert to his bandmates current state. “It was nice meeting you both, I’ll text you soon Jungkook”

Seokjin bids them goodbye as Jungkook watches them leave, not caring that he might look rude for not saying any farewells. Taehyung looks unsteady on his feet as he leans his weight on the much shorter male. Jimin doesn’t seem to struggle though, his arms skillfully holding the taller boy up and getting them through the crowd in a blink of the eye.

Jungkook still feels on fire even after the pair are long gone. The lingering feeling of being so close to Taehyung is almost enough to knock him on his ass, with nothing to do with alcohol. Seokjin looks far too satisfied with himself, no empathy for Jungkook’s current emotional turmoil. 

“What the fuck was that?” Jungkook hisses, although he isn't all that upset. Not when he finally has a chance to be close to Taehyung, delivered on a silver platter.

“Dude, I’m getting sick of listening to you pine over him.” Seokjin defends himself, “You were never going to get anywhere with your current tactics.”

“You don’t know that.” Jungkook pouts at Seokjin’s lack of faith. Sure what he was doing hadn’t worked out yet, but maybe it would’ve after tonight. Trying to talk to Taehyung is one thing, auditioning for his band is a whole other beast that he’s not sure he’s ready for.

“Look,” Seokjin starts. “It’s not like you have to meet up with them, but it might be fun. Who knows, maybe you will completely woo Taehyung with your voice.” 

Jungkook is confident he’s a good vocalist, even knows that he can sing Smoke Sprite’s music because he has sung along to their Soundcloud hits more times than he cares to admit. But that doesn’t stop the anxiety from clawing up his throat at the mere thought of performing in front of Taehyung.

“Okay…” He sighs, too drunk to argue about this. It is his birthday after all.

“Perfect, let’s order more shots!”

—

Jungkook is glued to his phone more than usual since that day, jumping up at any chime that comes through, just to be disappointed. It takes exactly a week before Jimin finally reaches out like he promised. Jungkook had almost given up hope.

He was absentmindedly doodling, music blasting in his headphones, when he felt the buzz of his phone. When Jungkook sees that it’s an unknown number, his stomach drops.

+1 819-627-4560: hey ((: its jimin from the other night

“Okay… okay, fuck.” Jungkook huffs out, standing from his desk in favor of pacing the small dorm room. It was such a simple message, no promises of anything, which made it so much worse. How was he supposed to respond? What if Jimin says he was just drunk and didn’t mean any of it?

After mulling it over for way too long, Jungkook finally crafts his reply back.

Jungkook: oh hi

He immediately regrets his choice, wallowing in self pity the entire one minute it takes for Jimin to reply.

+1 819-627-4560: u free to meet rn?

Jungkook’s eyes widen, reading the text multiple times to be sure it’s actually there. He is technically free. Seokjin is letting him recharge this weekend, leaving the younger boy to hole himself up in his room.

But does he even want to meet up with the band? If it all goes well then he will kill two birds with one stone—satisfying his dream of being a real singer and his undying desire to become closer to Taehyung.

But if he is rejected by them… Jungkook’s not sure that’s something he would be able to get over, let alone handle at all. Before he can change his mind, Jungkook agrees to meet, receiving an address back immediately.

He rushes to get ready, changing his outfit at least three times because nothing looks right. Jungkook nearly rips the barbell from his eyebrow when he throws another shirt on—the band tee he rejected last weekend.

His heart is already pounding wildly and he has to take an extra moment by the door to just breathe . He can do this.

The walk over is somewhat short, partially because he walked a little to fast. Jungkook decides to loiter outside of the house for an extra five minutes, fussing to make sure his hair looks okay. Maybe if he looks good enough Taehyung will look at him with that flirtatious glint in his eyes again.

Jungkook has to wipe his palms on his jeans before knocking on the door, anxiety and the remnants of Summer making him sweat. It’s a fairly small house with two stories, a knocked over pong table in the lawn to prove that college students do in fact reside there.

It takes several beats before he hears stomping on the other side, the door swinging open to reveal Jimin. He grins at the realization that it’s Jungkook but it only eases the younger boy's nerves by a percent.

“Hey! You got here pretty fast.” The blonde says, stepping aside so Jungkook can enter the home. He looks around with interest while following Jimin through the living room. It’s cleaner than he was expecting, mismatched couches adding charm to the warmly lit room. 

He can’t help but wonder if this is where Taehyung lives. Jungkook imagines what they would look like curled up on the couch together (or doing less innocent things). He takes it all in as they pass through to the kitchen, Jungkook wanting to commit it all to his memory in case this really is where his crush resides. 

“The band is all down here,” Jimin says, pulling open a door in the kitchen to reveal steep steps down. “Don’t be too nervous.”

The words do very little to ease the violent hurricane in Jungkook’s mind. He follows the older male down the stairs anyways, focusing on the way they creak under his heavy boots.

The basement is unfinished but relatively put together, the walls lined with some sort of insulation for soundproofing. Jungkook’s big eyes scan the room to fall on the three figures waiting for him.

An attractive male with shaggy black hair stands up from the drum set in greeting, his large heart-shaped smile contrasts with the silver bridge piercing and entirely black outfit.

“This him?” He asks, still smiling like Jungkook has single-handedly cured cancer.

“Yeah, this is Jungkook. Music major at our uni actually.” Jimin says. Jungkook almost wants to shy away at the drummer’s curious eyes, currently looking him up and down the same way Jimin did last Friday. He resists the urge though, not wanting to seem meek.

“I’m Hoseok, drummer.” He says, waving his drumsticks in the air like he has to prove it. “Music major huh? So you must already know our lead guitarist, Taehyung.”

Jungkook stiffened at the topic shifting to the senior boy. Not really wanting to explain how he not only knows Taehyung, but has a massive crush on him, Jungkook settles for a vague reply.

“Yeah, only a bit though.” He offers, uncomfortable with the way Jimin is currently boring his eyes into the side of his head. The answer seems to satisfy Hoseok, luckily enough.

“Sick. Well then you really only need to meet our bass guy, Yoongi.” He grabs Jungkook by the elbow and is pulling him towards the couch across from the band's set-up. 

The furniture looks worn and lived-in but with the same charm the upstairs had—the coffee table littered with a deck of playing cards and a bong, Jungkook notes. 

He avoids looking at Taehyung who is currently sitting on a bean bag fiddling with his guitar, not even looking up as the three of them approach. Jungkook instead focuses on the small figure stretched out on the plaid couch, Yoongi he’s guessing.

“Yoongs,” Hoseok calls for his attention, boldly laying his weight on top of the other boy’s legs. “This is Jungkook, the singer Jimin found.”

Yoongi grunts under Hoseok’s weight, cracking an eye open to look at the new presence in the room. He doesn’t study him in the way Jimin or Hoseok did, just simply lifts a hand up in greeting.

“Nice meeting you.” He says, hand plopping down to rest on Hoseok’s head. Jungkook wonders just how close they are. 

“Yoongi actually graduated from the music program.” Jimin chimes in, Yoongi nodding to certify the statement.

Jungkook is surprised by the new information, trying to pinpoint if he recognizes Yoongi. The older boy has a pretty doll-like face with long black hair that curls around his neck. He almost looks like a cat, stretched out on the couch like that. Jungkook definitely would’ve remembered him if they attended classes at the same time.

“Oh.” Is all Jungkook can think to say, mentally kicking himself for the lame response. If they think he’s weird, none of them comment on it.

“Well,” Jimin claps his hands together, nearly making the younger boy jump. “Why don’t we get in position and try this shit out?”

The anxiety of the situation fully settles in as all the boys begin moving towards their instruments, leaving Jungkook in the middle where the mic stands. Taehyung is the last to join them, sighing when he settles to the left of Jungkook.

The band is talking amongst themselves but Jungkook tunes it all out to focus on the sound of his heartbeat—or more specifically, on calming it down.

Jungkook realizes Taehyung is the only one he didn’t get an introduction to and decides to take the chance to greet the older male. Unlike the other times he's tried, Jungkook has a legitimate reason to talk to the older male. Don't make it weird.

“Hey...” He says, his throat feeling dry and scratchy. Jungkook regrets not taking the extra time to drink some soothing tea before coming here. 

“Yo.” Is all he gets back, the older male still looking away from Jungkook as he fiddles with the guitar strap.

It’s enough to piss Jungkook off. He thought that after his birthday Taehyung would stop treating him like a stranger. Hell, he’s auditioning for the guitarists’ band… That’s enough to warrant friendly conversation in Jungkook’s eyes. He swallows down the anger, not wanting to get so worked up at the guy he's supposed to be into.

“Um…” He tries again, not ready to admit defeat after sacrificing his Saturday to be here. “So how bad was your hangover? I was pretty fucked after that last shot.”

That makes Taehyung look up at him, but the older’s furrowed brows and downturned lips make Jungkook’s own awkward smile wipe off of his face. His heart thumps harder as they make eye contact, the silence stretching between them feels like forever and Jungkook's gut just twists more the longer it goes. 

“What?” Taehyung finally asks, flatly.

God, let the ground open up and swallow me whole.

“Your hangover… from last weekend?” Jungkook says, now unsure of himself. But the fact that he is here is proof that he didn’t imagine last Friday.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Taehyung says, making Jungkook’s face burn hot. Taehyung must have been a lot drunker than he thought, but Jungkook has no problem reminding him even if the words feel like knives as they leave his mouth.

“We hung out last weekend… You may have forgot, but it was my birthday and-”

“What song are we doing, Jimin?” Taehyung cuts him off, now directing his attention over to the blonde who is playing around with his own guitar.

Jungkook is officially burning from embarrassment, like hell fire is licking at his skin. That mixed with the anger of being interrupted is so overwhelming that it makes his eyes water. He doesn’t hear what Jimin answers before he’s asking, “Can I use the restroom?”

He barely waits for directions before practically bolting back up the stairs, no longer being able to handle the close proximity to Taehyung. Jungkook tries the first door he sees and sighs in relief when it is in fact the bathroom.

He braces himself on either side of the small sink and looks in the mirror at his appearance. A boy with pink cheeks, glassy eyes, and slightly damp curls from sweat is what stares back. Great, now he does look like shit.

Jungkook cranks on the faucet to cold, gathering the water in his hands and drowning his face in it. He sighs at the cooling feeling on his hot skin, already feeling ten pounds lighter. He stays hunched over the sink, taking deep breaths in and out, until he finally calms down.

Half of him wanted to just leave and give up, but the stubborn side is overpowering the singer. Who cares if Taehyung didn’t remember him? He’s been through enough in his life for something so small to knock him down already. He hasn't failed, not yet. Even if Taehyung's behavior stings like he did.

With one last shaky breath, Jungkook forces himself to head back to the basement. Voices travel up the stairs as he gets closer to the open door, stopping in his tracks when he realizes it’s Taehyung who’s talking.

“This is pointless…” His deep voice was slightly muffled by the distance. “How do we know he’s not total shit?”

“We don’t.” It’s Jimin’s voice. “But he has good vibes and he’s in the music department, right? So how bad can he be?”

“He’s cute too.” Hoseok says—which only makes the boy in question blush more.

“That’s not a good reason to add someone to the band.” Taehyung argues, making Jungkook deflate with the lack of a compliment from him.

“Come on Tae,” It’s Yoongi this time. “Give the kid a chance. If he’s bad then… he’s bad.”

“We just…” Taehyung sounds almost defeated now. “He hasn’t been here from the beginning, we don’t know him.”

Jungkook’s heart squeezes at how adamant Taehyung is being. Anyone who joins the band will be new, so why does it matter if Jungkook is? He’s a quick learner and a damn good singer so it won’t even be difficult for him to acclimate himself to their music. He knows he can.

“He’s in your department… I’m sure you know him even a little.” Jimin shoots back, trying to reason with what sounds like a pissed of Taehyung.

“I don’t.” Taehyung scoffs, and that is all it takes to fully piss Jungkook off. 

“Why are you being like this Tae? You were just saying last weekend that-” Jimin abruptly stops talking when they hear footsteps coming down the stairs. Jungkook had half the mind to just leave, but the pent up frustration of continuously being shut down and ignored by Taehyung is what's fueling him to take the steps all the way down.

It’s silent when they finally see Jungkook, probably hoping he didn’t hear how shamelessly they were talking about him. He avoids all eye-contact and resumes his position at the mic again, doing his best to keep an indifferent expression on his face.

“Hey, uh…” Jimin interrupts the tense silence. “We were just talking about what song to do.”

Jungkook doesn’t point out that he knows the blonde is lying and that he heard them talking about him. “I’m good with anything. I know most songs.” He doesn't specify if he meant Smoke Sprite's or music in general.

“Are you cool with Caraphernelia then? We used to cover it in the early days.”

“Pierce The Veil right?” Jungkook asks, adjusting the mic stand just to have something to do. His hands slightly damp from the sink, making them fumble even worse coupled with his nerves.

“That’s the one.” Jimin smiles, satisfied that Jungkook knows the song. 

It feels real now that they have the song picked out and Jungkook has to push back the nervousness trying to claw at his throat. He absentmindedly listens to the mutters of instructions between the band, only worrying about his own cue. 

Jungkook has never been more on edge than he is now, waiting for the music to start so the rest of the college boys around him can start their judging. All he has to do is not fuck up and his abilities will do enough to make Taehyung eat his words.

With four clacks of Hoseok's drum sticks together, the band begins—the sound of his heavy tempo replacing the pounding in Jungkook’s ears. He can’t help but get chills at the sound of Taehyung’s guitar, closer than it's ever been—the older boy playing with raw, almost sinful passion.

Once it’s his time to cut in, the storm of thoughts is gone and replaced with sheer determination.

Sunshine, there aint a thing that you can do that’s gonna ruin my night.

Jungkook was hoping that once the song started he would forget everything, even momentarily. But how could he when Taehyung’s electrifying vibrato is surging through Jungkook’s body and breathing life into him. The other instruments sound dull to his ears compared to Taehyung, and Jungkook isn’t entirely sure it has nothing to do with the man behind the noise.

The lyrics fuel his anger if anything. All the feelings he’s had about the older boy is pouring out through his vocal chords, already sore from how much he’s exerting himself.

What if I can’t forget you? I’ll burn your name into my throat. I’ll be the fire that’ll catch you.

Jungkook grabs the mic stand with white knuckles, as he hits the more difficult notes of the song. He can’t remember the last time it felt this euphoric to sing, the lyrics almost therapeutic as they fall from his lips.

His hair has fallen to hang in his face but he doesn’t move to push it back, too wrapped up in the song. Sweat has Jungkook’s shirt clinging to his back, the basement feeling sticky from the five men shredding in such a small space. It’s everything it’s supposed to be and more.

By the time the song ends, Jungkook is panting heavily. He glances over at Taehyung to see the boy staring right back with dark eyes—much to his surprise. The guitarist doesn’t look much better, his own hair clinging to his forehead and fingers red and angry from how hard he was playing.

He looks as fucked out as Jungkook feels.

They stare into each other’s eyes for what feels like a century—Jungkook failing to push back all the thoughts that an out-of-breath Taehyung is causing his brain to conjure. He almost forgets how the guitarist behaved towards him when all he can focus on is pretty, spit-slicked lips and half-lidded eyes.

“That was sick!” Hoseok suddenly yells, snapping Jungkook and Taehyung back to reality. “That was sick, right?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi whistles in agreement. “You got some serious pipes kid.”

“I- Uh, yeah… Thanks.” Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, still in a daze.

“See, I could tell just by looking at you that you were perfect for us!” Jimin is beaming, clearly satisfied that his defense of the younger male paid off.

Taehyung is still silent beside him, Jungkook would be lying if he said the lack of a response from the senior didn’t affect him. That’s just something he will have to finally get over. He's proved his point, proved Taehyung wrong. He won.

Before now, Jungkook could make excuses that him and Taehyung had no reason to talk. He could convince himself that he had just been going about it all the wrong way. He would deny the possibility that the older male was purposely blowing him off just to lull himself into a false sense of hope. Now with the band, in a setting where Taehyung had no reason to be a total dick, it all became painfully clear.

Taehyung had no interest in Jungkook. And Jungkook's still reeling from the image he built up of Taehyung being shattered in front of his face.

“So…” Jimin starts, only continuing when he sees the slight nod from Yoongi. “What do you think? Are you in?”

Jungkook brain short-circuits, pausing all thoughts of the other guitairst. They want him to actually join the band? Despite the numerous compliments, he didn’t think it would really be an option. At least not this quickly.

However, the vocalist is interrupted before he could even conjure up an answer.

“What? Shouldn't we talk about this first?” Taehyung cuts in. “Like just the band talk…”

Jungkook looks at the guitarist but he’s already looking past him, at a very bewildered Jimin. Anything Jungkook was going to say dies in his throat as silence envelops them. This time the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife, Jimin and Taehyung seemingly having a stare-down.

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” Jimin laughs, devoid of any humor. “He’s better than Jae.”

“I just think we are rushing this-”

“You were the one freaking out over having to possibly cancel gigs,” Jimin argues. “You gotta admit we got lucky coming across Jungkook.”

The sophomore is starting to feel claustrophobic again as he watches the two friends fight about him—right in front of his eyes no less. Jimin’s normally delicate features are pinched in annoyance, looking at Taehyung like he’s grown two heads while the other’s clenched jaw looks close to breaking. He hates how attractive Taehyung looks when he's mad—mad about Jungkook no less.

“I didn't say he wasn't good it's just-”

“It’s fine.” Jungkook finally interrupts them, speaking before Taehyung's words can draw more blood. Taehyung finally looks at him again, taken aback by the other’s sudden interjection as if only he's allowed to cut into conversations. “I don’t really want to be where I’m not wanted.”

Taehyung’s expression is unreadable but his eyes are swarming with something Jungkook can’t bother to stay around and decipher. He's not sure he could handle decoding them.

“But-”

“Thanks for this I guess.” He interrupts Jimin, moving to look at him instead. “This was fun but, I’m just gonna head out.”

Jungkook wastes no time heading for the stairs, ignoring Jimin’s panicked ‘wait’ and the sound of someone, presumably hitting Taehyung, if his yell in pain is anything to go by. The only thing on his mind is getting out as fast as he can, numbly moving back through the small house until he’s pushing back into the somewhat cool afternoon air. Jungkook hangs his head in his hands, gripping tightly at his strands of black hair until it hurts.

It’s difficult to pin-point every emotion he’s feeling right now, but the one that really stands out is his unadulterated anger.

It went not as expected but at the same time exactly how he should’ve expected. He feels incredibly stupid, the false dream he built up of being Taehyung’s bandmate, his friend, crumbled down like an old building left to rot. And now Jungkook is lying in the dust and debris, bloody and full of regret because all the warning signs were there. He in some form knew the fall was coming.

He’s furious with Taehyung and with himself.

“Jungkook!” Jimin rushes outside, the door banging behind him and snapping Jungkook from his total meltdown. “Fuck, I’m sorry about that. I’m glad you didn’t leave yet…”

Jungkook blinks away the wetness in his eyes before turning to Jimin, who looks as apologetic as he sounds.

“I… Was about to.” Jungkook sighs, defeated and ready to go back to his previous plans of rotting away in bed.

“Look, I don’t know what his deal is but… Please join the band.” The look on Jimin’s face is so genuine that it hurts—why couldn’t it be Taehyung begging me like this?

“I just… I think he has a problem with me.” Jungkook confesses for the first time, face screwed up. The words taste like venom.

“Taehyung?” Jimin’s brows knit together in confusion but Jungkook just shrugs, not knowing the answer himself. “I thought you didn’t know him that well… Taehyung usually doesn’t act this way without giving someone a chance first.”

That sounds nothing like the Taehyung that Jungkook knows, which only makes him all the more bitter.

“We have met a few times,” Jungkook doesn’t know why he’s saying all of this to said boy’s best friend. “He just… doesn’t fuck with me.”

It’s like he’s finally admitting failure, Jungkook realizes, by saying it outloud. It’s a new sensation for Jungkook who typically never quits—usually because he doesn’t need to. Winner my ass.

Jimin thinks for a minute to himself, clearly not ready to admit his defeat as well.

“What if I talk to him?” He offers, taking a step closer to Jungkook—the taller male resists the urge to take one back.

“I don’t know…” Jungkook really doesn’t think it’ll make a difference. Even if it did, he’s no longer sure this is something he wants. He would almost rather wash his hands of this situation and forget it even happened. Forget Taehyung ever happened.

“It’ll work out. He can never say no to me, just… please.” Jimin pleads. Jungkook hates the implications of that—jealousy hitting him even though he just swore he wasn’t going to care about Taehyung anymore.

Jimin is staring at him with so much desperation, borderline begging, that Jungkook almost immediately caves in. It’s not like he expects Jimin to be successful, no matter how much he swears by Taehyung’s obedience. But if it’ll get Jimin to let him escape back to his dorm then it might just be worth agreeing to.

“Okay,” Jungkook sighs, while Jimin breaks out into a blinding grin. “But… I’m not going back in there.”

There’s no way in hell he’s sticking around to watch Taehyung reject him once again, especially not with how he can still feel the flush of anger and mortification on his cheeks.

“Yeah, of course dude.” Jimin nods, still smiling like he’s already won—and maybe he has. “Just let me handle it and I'll text you?”

“Yeah, okay.” He breathes. 

“Oh and I’m sorry about him…again.” Jimin says, finally backing away to join the rest of the band inside. “Hopefully apologizing for Taehyung doesn’t become a habit.”

Jimin laughs but all Jungkook can offer is a pained smile as he watches the platinum blonde boy disappear through the front door again. He really hopes it doesn’t become a habit too but has a bad feeling that it just might.

The walk home takes almost double the time with how slow Jungkook is moving, lost in thought. He kicks a pebble with his shoe, watching it roll along the pavement and wishes he was a rock.

Rocks don’t have to worry about pretty guitarists with bad attitudes or endless social interations that leave your skin itchy and your body drained. They just travel across the earth, pushed by any force that comes to disturb their rest like Jungkook’s foot is now.

God, he’s going crazy.

Jungkook shucks off his shoes and jeans in one go when he gets back to his dorm, crawling under the blankets of his bed with no plan to ever reemerge. He stays like that in silence, just the air conditioning whirring along with his thoughts.

He thinks about how it felt to sing in a band for the first time—how it felt having a taste of friendship with people who weren’t Seokjin, as much as he loves the elder.

How everything felt right when he was up there singing with them, even Taehyung felt perfectly in place. It was a sense of satisfaction that he had never felt before yet it was ripped from his hands by the very person he was infatuated with.

It’s well into the evening when Jungkook finally falls asleep, the hunger in his stomach ignored. He’s exhausted every minuscule interaction he’s had today, eventually overthinking himself to sleep.

But the single thought that he kept revisiting all night, until the dream world took him over, was that he really didn’t like Taehyung anymore.

_