Work Text:
nobody knows me, honey
no one like you
if you wanna go there
i’m ready to be with you
jeongguk was acting strange around him, stranger than usual. all… flustered, if that was the right word for it. now, normally, this would be expected. he’s jeongguk—he’s always been a little excited and giddy around his hyungs, a puppy wagging his tail, his tongue sticking out, eager for attention. and, well, the love he had for his hyungs was sincere, that much was obvious. seokjin remembers when he had first heard the demo version of ‘begin’, a sore in his heart calling out to him: their jeongguk, their boy, writing such intense, aching lyrics about the members. when my hyung is in pain, it hurts me more than when i’m in pain. (he tries not to think about how jeongguk’s fly with me, fly with me felt like a serendipitous response to his own maybe i can never fly.)
sure, jeongguk could be bold at times, cocky and confident. he had grown up so well; long gone was that shy 15-year-old, waiting for each member to finish showering, ensuring they were all in bed, before locking himself up in the bathroom. he’d matured over the years: his tattoos and piercings and, overall, his whole personal style reflecting a cool-headed man, sure of himself; his artistic vision flowing and changing, keen to try new genres and techniques, yet staying firm and rooted to himself. and, well, he’d matured in other ways, too, if his calvin klein photoshoot and the lyrics to his song ‘seven’ had anything to say about it. (seokjin tries not to think too hard about that, too.)
but, despite all that, he was still jeongguk as he had always been: their sweet, sweet boy.
seokjin had known the moment he met him that jeongguk felt love a tad more strongly than the rest of them—his heart was simply bigger, more spacious than the rest of theirs—and, so, jeongguk? flustered? nothing to write home about, really.
but this was… this was different.
this was: bambi-round orbs staring at him from across the room, from behind his camera, from across the stage. always looking, always peering with such intensity, but never enough to catch any eye-contact, irises darting this way and that way, anywhere but at him, whenever seokjin, feeling his gaze, would turn back to look at him.
this was: jittery around the edges, jumping a little—jumping! in the actual air!—whenever seokjin comes close to him, as if seokjin is a ninja, silently tip-toeing behind him, ready to attack. seokjin has to laugh: if jeongguk is staring at him so much, surely he should be aware of seokjin making his way towards him. it simply doesn’t add up.
this was: fidgeting with the hem of his shorts whenever they’re sitting together, hands no longer reaching out to grab seokjin’s, no longer holding them captive, no longer tussling and scuffling, shifting easy weight, pretending he has to put effort into winning. (and, a last forbidden, fleeting thought: when did he become so strong?) that absence of warmth, fingers brushing his skin softly before releasing them, a tender conclusion to their mighty brawl. and, if seokjin had to rank these, frankly, alien behaviours of jeongguk’s, this would be the weirdest. jeongguk, no longer in the mood to play-fight, to wrestle with him? with seokjin? as if that’s not the crux of their mingled-up dna.
this was: flustered yet distant, the space between them growing colder and crueler each day.
what the hell was going on?
—
seokjin decides the best way to deal with this, in the midst of their busy tour, is the way he deals with everything: head-on. after all, there’s no time like the present. what’s the point in worrying about it when he can fix it right this instant?
and, so, he buys jeongguk a ps5.
it’s a few hours after their latest concert has ended when he decides to message jeongguk:
you: there’s a present for you in my room
bighit jeon jeongguk: what
bighit jeon jeongguk: so randomly hyung? ㅋㅋㅋ
bighit jeon jeongguk: what are you talking about, seriously?
you: well, if you come to my room, you’ll find out
you: idiot
there’s no reply, but seokjin wasn’t really expecting one. he can already hear the footsteps outside his hotel room and, when the bell rings, he waits a few seconds before opening the door. no point in looking eager. he’s already spent a few hundred thousand won on a gift for the guy, anyways.
jeongguk’s fresh-faced, hair dripping droplets of water on his forehead, evidently having just showered. he looks good, dressed in his casual black tank top and shorts.
“well? where’s my gift?” jeongguk says, and seokjin can almost see a phantom jeongguk echo the same words in a different tone, more cheeky, grinning, ear to ear, nose scrunched, keen to receive whatever his precious hyung has chosen to gift him with, even if it’s just a bowl of ramyeon. phantom jeongguk skirts past seokjin, walking into the hotel room as if he owns it, laying on the bed as if it’s his right to sleep wherever seokjin does.
but this jeongguk, this new, anxious jeongguk that’s replaced his precious boy, stays still where he is, feet planted firmly on the carpet of the hallway. he seems hesitant, almost scared.
no worries. seokjin can work with this. he has a plan, after all. “first, say hyung is the best.”
“hyung is the best,” jeongguk copies obediently. there’s no smile yet.
“hyung is so kind and thoughtful,” seokjin goes on.
“hyung is so kind and thoughtful,” accompanied with an eye-roll. seokjin feels faint delight curling in his stomach. we’re getting there, he thinks.
“hyung loves me more than anyone else in the world.”
at that, jeongguk pauses. he cocks his head at an angle, not unlike yoongi’s cat tang-ie does when seokjin has very serious, very important cat-related discussions with him. jeongguk could pass off for tang-ie actually, with his all-black outfit, round eyes, and dark, dark hair. seokjin’s missed his hair. well, he’s missed all of the members’ hair, and, no, that’s not weird to say, not at all, not when he’s witnessed selcas upon selcas of the boys with their buzzed scalps in their group chat during each of their time spent in the military. not when jeongguk’s shiny eyes, all of their eyes, in fact, looked close to tears in each picture sent.
jeongguk purses his lips, furrows his brows, and seokjin is brought back to the present. “do you?” jeongguk asks.
seokjin hiccups. “what?”
“love me most. do you?” his eyes squint, like he’s trying to catch seokjin in a lie.
how dare he! like seokjin has ever uttered a lie in his life. “of course i do, you punk. would someone who doesn’t love you the most in the entire world buy you a brand new, super expensive ps5?”
jeongguk’s shoulders relax, and he starts nipping at his bottom lip. he laughs, a faint chuckle, nothing belly-hearted. his eyes aren’t widening in disbelief at how generous his hyung is. his lips aren’t stretching into a wide-mouthed grin, whole-heartedly happy to receive. something is terribly, terribly wrong, and seokjin knows it. “thank you hyung, that’s sweet of you.”
…what? that’s it? “i think you didn’t hear me,” seokjin begins. “i said, i bought you a ps5! the box is sitting in my room right now! i’m not lying!”
“i didn’t say you were, hyung.” he smiles, but it doesn’t feel cheeky or playful. it doesn’t reach his eyes. he starts fidgeting with his fingers. “i’m really appreciative. thank you, hyung. i’ll start using it immediately.”
“well. i thought—why don’t we play together? there’s a new game i saw that’s only available on this model.”
so that’s why you bought it, seokjin hears phantom jeongguk say, a smirk fighting its way onto his lips, it’s actually for you. you’re just using me as an excuse.
instead, there’s silence. jeongguk is frowning now, staring at the floor. he blinks, then looks back up in seokjin’s general direction whilst avoiding his eyes. “i’m a bit tired, hyung. today’s concert was exhausting. i’ll plug it in and maybe we can play tomorrow. okay?”
seokjin feels his stomach hurt. this is a typical response to a forlon jeongguk: gut clenched, concern rising, wondering what could have made him so sad. but this time seokjin knows it has to do with him. of course it does, but why? what did he do?
“did something happen, gguk?”
jeongguk blinks a few more times, looking terribly close to crying. “no. i—no. it’s just. i’m tired.” and then, as if predicting that seokjin is about to usher him in a hug, he steps away. the pain in his stomach deepens. “thank you, really. i’ll use it well.” he puts his hands out, awaiting the ps5 box.
“right. right.” seokjin walks into his room and gathers the box into his arm. he takes a deep breath then turns back around. “okay, jeongguk! hyung’s favourite! here is your precious gift!”
there it is again: a smile, far from reaching his eyes. jeongguk takes the box and walks away; seokjin stares too long at the empty space left behind before closing the door shut.
—
it's been a few days and seokjin feels touch-starved, hungry for what's been taken from him. perplexed, he finds himself thinking: is this normal? to be so dependent on a few brushes of fingers, a tangle of limbs, a wrestle here and there. but surely it’s just nerves from having done something wrong, apparently, the fear that he may have hurt jeongguk. or maybe it’s the break from routine, the discomfort of being out of rhythm, that’s making his bones feel all stiff and rigid.
it's not like he can forcibly get it back; what's gone is now glaringly so—it's intentional, clearly not a mistake—and he has to respect that. it just makes him... sad. from the corner of his eyes, he sees how the other members are not affected. jeongguk hasn't given them the space he’s been giving seokjin. but it's not like seokjin asked for space, so what's going on?
giving jeongguk attention, calling him to his room, buying him gifts… all that got him nothing. and though seokjin knows getting jeongguk alone and having an honest conversation with him is probably what he should be aiming for, he’s, well. secretly, he’s scared of having to feel those annoying, irritating, painful emotions again. he doesn’t have time to analyse what they mean. he doesn’t want his stomach to hurt again. and he definitely doesn’t need to know more about his own feelings and thoughts and confusions, not when there are more pressing feelings and thoughts and confusions of a certain rabbit-shaped man to figure out.
he switches gears and manages to track down his trusted, sagely yoongi, who is luckily having a rare night in where he’s not off meeting up and gallivanting around with his many, many industry friends. that night, after their—fifth? sixth? seokjin frankly can’t keep count—concert this tour, he arrives at yoongi’s hotel room with some steaming hot kimchi jjigae and gyeranmari takeaway and a desire to finally put his worries to rest.
he waits until after they’ve eaten to gently probe the question: “have you noticed anything up with the members recently?” he starts packing up the takeaway boxes, not really knowing what to do with his hands.
as usual, yoongi sees through him. “one member in particular, hyung?” he asks, with a knowing glint in his eyes.
seokjin’s eyes narrow. “what do you know?”
yoongi takes some time to think, fingers comically scratching his chin as he does so. “nothing really that i can tell you.” yoongi looks apologetic, cheeks squishing from his frown. “i’m sorry, hyung.”
“i—“ he sighs, a deep, long one. “i just don’t know what i did! you know the other day, i was reading my comic book while the stylists were doing my make-up, and jeongguk-ie didn’t try to stop me from reading. not even once!”
yoongi shakes his head and mimics seokjin’s sigh. “he’ll come to you. just give him some time.” before seokjin can say anything, he adds, “and you didn’t do anything. not really. so don’t lose sleep over that. it’s his problem. he’ll fix it.”
aha! “so it’s a problem? related to me?”
“a problem? did i say that?”
“literally just now.”
“hyung.” yoongi fixes seokjin with a stern glance. “you’re overthinking this. i know it’s weird right now, but he’ll get over it eventually.” yoongi places a hand on his knee and taps him twice. “it’ll all be okay.”
—
it’s five am, and after a night of not sleeping (curse the universe for playing a large, humorous joke on him ever since he arrived in north america but not allowing him to sleep during the night hours), seokjin decides to head to the hotel gym in hopes to ameliorate his jet lag—and, yes, his heart rate does quicken, and he does get a body flush, but it’s not because of working out. no, it’s all because of one jeon jeongguk who has apparently opted for a gym session at a similar time instead of sleeping like a normal person during normal sleeping hours.
he's sitting on a bicycle, his feet pedalling vigorously. he has headphones on and he hasn’t noticed seokjin yet, and given the time and their… delicate situation, seokjin doesn’t feel like disturbing him by alerting him of his presence. with his mind suddenly not working properly, seokjin doesn’t really think when his feet lead him to the lat pulldown machine.
from his vantage point, he can see how jeongguk’s eyes are closed and how his eyebrows are furrowed. he seems upset, impatient to channel his worries into exercise. yoongi’s words come back to mind: it’s his problem, he’ll fix it. what was going on in that poor boy’s mind? why was he up at five am in the gym? he hasn’t had any problems with jet lag recently, as far as seokjin knows. seokjin wishes, not for the first time, that he could fix all this for jeongguk. it’s weird; it’s not like he’s the designated resolver of the group, but he prides himself in being able to alleviate most of jeongguk’s worries. sure, jeongguk is comfortable enough to head to any of them for whatever problems he has, but their relationship has always been special. since jeongguk was in school, seokjin has been taking care of him. he’s, well, he’s his, as simple as that. seokjin feels his gut clench again; it’s not right that he can’t take care of jeongguk anymore. what possible problem involving seokjin could have him so worked up, pedalling away for god knows how long?
he’s pulled away from his thoughts when jeongguk straightens his back, eyes still closed, and stretches. he’s really grown up, hasn’t he? in the mirror reflection, he can see his massive arms, thick and tattooed, muscles glistening with sweat. seokjin’s eyes trail down to jeongguk’s waist, tiny, waiting to be held. (seokjin finds himself wondering what would happen if he could be the one to hold him. he files that away for later thought—it’s not entirely appropriate in relation to their situation right now.) jeongguk’s wearing shorts and his solid, toned thighs look huge enough to squish him. he’s really done well for himself. seokjin’s never been shy to appreciate his fellow members—they’re really an attractive bunch, the seven of them—and he knows they feel the same about him, but jeongguk. jeongguk… he’s always been different. seokjin can almost feel his mouth watering. he’s so proud of the man jeongguk has become. and his face: his beautiful, thick eyebrows, his dark eyes, deep as an ocean, staring right back at him in the reflection of the mirror.
wait, what?
jeongguk’s eyes widen, but—for the first time in more than a week—he doesn’t turn away after being caught. instead, shockingly, he casts his eyes down seokjin’s body, slowly, intoxicatingly, before finally bringing them back up to his face. seokjin feels his spine tingle. he can barely hear the music coming from his headphones anymore; instead, all that his ears can detect are the sounds of his own laboured breaths. he tries to look away but feels like a fish caught on a hook, like one of the tunas in his silly song. jeongguk licks his lips which seokjin can only imagine is beaded in sweat. in fact, his whole face must be, and seokjin feels like licking it all up. he feels like getting up and crossing over to him, pushing him back onto the cycle seat, and finally, finally, kissing him. and, it’s weird, because shouldn’t that thought carry with it emotions of unease and shock and shame? instead, all he feels right now is rightness. it’s a familiar feeling, but it feels comfortable this time, not something he wants to push away or hide: a wave of yes, this is exactly what you’ve been feeling this whole time and isn’t that wonderful? why not just kiss him? why not?
he’s almost ready to get up, his legs clearly having a mind of their own. jeongguk hasn’t looked away from him yet. he wonders what jeongguk sees: are his tangles of desires present on his face at that very moment? if so, why hasn’t he looked away? even if not, why hasn’t he looked away? it’s so much more than what he’s given in the past week or so, and seokjin doesn’t know how to tread.
would it be so wrong? to just give in to his desires and get up to kiss this stupidly, ridiculously pretty man? the one he’s always been so comfortable with? his jeongguk.
mind set, seokjin puts the machine back to its original position and makes to get up. almost immediately, jeongguk’s eyes widen and his back straightens, rigid. but—he doesn’t look afraid. he looks curious, like the ball is in seokjin’s court, like it’s always been in his court and he’s just been waiting for him to pick it up and serve. seokjin takes his headphones off and all that he can hear is the combination of their heavy breaths; jeongguk mimics him, hands reaching up to put his own headphones away. seokjin gets up from his machine and—the door bursts open, a stranger walking in.
fuck. seokjin immediately sits back down, loud enough to make a noise, drawing the attention of the stranger. she looks at him strangely for a second before heading to the weights portion of the room. jesus christ. he immediately grabs his water bottle, antsy to bring his blushing back down to a normal temperature. when he risks a look back at jeongguk, he’s resumed cycling, but he’s blushing too, and the shade of red looks so sweet on him. his pretty boy. god. he was about to kiss jeongguk. he was about to kiss his jeongguk! his member, his co-worker, his best friend. and he doesn’t even feel weird about it! and jeongguk, he… despite being mad at him, or upset with him, or something, wasn’t going to do anything to stop it. he knew what seokjin was going to do, and he was okay with it anyways. if seokjin was asked to describe their relationship, he wouldn’t know what to say anymore. all he knows is that he has to figure out what the hell was going on before he goes insane and does something even more incriminating than kiss the heavens out of this man.
—
the next day, taehyung invites him to go to an amusement park. it’s a nice distraction from everything jeongguk-related, but there is a moment when seokjin almost clutches his heart in fear of all his desires being revealed when taehyung starts talking about their latest concert.
“what did you just say?” seokjin asks, almost choking on his ice cream. they had gone on about eight different rides and a near-by ice cream stall had been a welcome reprieve from the sweltering heat.
taehyung looks at him strangely. “just that jeongguk-ie looked ready to eat you when we were singing our last song last night.” he says it casually, as if he was listing a fact as simple as the sky is blue or the grass is green.
“what.”
“when we were singing 'into the sun' last night? our last song, hyung?” taehyung finishes his ice cream with a lick and immediately reaches for seokjin’s.
“i know what our last song is, taehyung.” he swats away taehyung’s approaching arms. “i mean—what do you mean by ‘eat me’?” he laughs—a little manically, if taehyung’s responding cringe has anything to say about it.
“like you don’t know, hyung. anyways, that’s not the important part of what i had to say. as i was saying, after jeongguk-ie was looking at you that way, jimin-ie bit his lip when he was looking at me that way, and it made me think about the lyrics of the song, and…” but seokjin had stopped listening.
he hadn’t noticed jeongguk looking at him that way at all during the song—in fact, after the gym, he had gone back to the normal of the jeon jeongguk of the past week. sure, he had felt the weight of his gaze on him multiple times, both out of the concert and during. but every time he looked back at him, jeongguk was looking somewhere else. so, he did what any normal person would do, and told himself that it was a trick of the light, a ruse played by his brain. and now—to hear that he was wrong, that jeongguk had been looking at him, during that song, and in that way. it was all too much.
if he wanted him the way seokjin wanted him, too, then why was he not doing anything about it? why hide? why look away? why was it a problem and what could seokjin do to show him that it didn’t have to be one? why did he want to fix it and in what way was he thinking of fixing it, anyways?
—
after their amusement park trip, they head back to the hotel to shower, rest, and attend a quick dance practice. seokjin is still thinking about tahyung’s words from earlier, unwinding from the grueling dance moves, spread out across the concert venue’s private room’s floor, when hoseok’s voice brings him back to the present.
“what’s this, jk?” seokjin sits up and almost feels embarrassed at how quickly he tunes in the moment he hears jeongguk’s name.
hoseok is laughing, whilst jeongguk just looks confused. “huh?” jeongguk replies.
namjoon lets out a wolf-whistle then joins in with hoseok’s chuckling. “someone got lucky last night.”
“what are you talking about?” jeongguk’s round eyes blink one, two, three times in a row. without looking up from his phone, yoongi drawls out a stop teasing him, guys, then continues scrolling.
jeongguk seems frustrated. “no, i really don’t know what you all are talking about.” seokjin would, frankly, like to know too. spread out on the floor, jimin crawls closer to where jeongguk is resting and pulls out a finger, pressing tight against jeongguk’s jugular. jeongguk lets out a soft ah and the noise scratches seokjin’s brain. when jimin’s finger releases, seokjin’s vision zeroes in on a mark on jeongguk’s neck. a hickey.
oh.
so, jeongguk really did get lucky last night. that’s fine. that’s totally fine. it’s just that. well. he feels a bit stupid, that’s it. here he was, thinking that their charged gazes meant something, that jeongguk was okay with him kissing him in the gym, that maybe he wanted it, too. that he wanted to eat him, apparently. why did he listen to taehyung again? clearly seokjin was making stuff up in the name of sexual desire and he needed to get a grip on himself. maybe he should be finding someone to fuck, as well. maybe all this yearning and passion was mischarged and would go away if he had someone, anyone, beneath him, above him, next to him in bed. maybe he should redownload some of those apps again.
he reaches for his phone, about to head to the phone app store, when jeongguk replies. he still sounds confused and extremely annoyed about the situation. “what? i crashed after the concert last night. i didn’t even have enough energy to read my webtoon. i just went to bed after showering.” he looks towards the floor-to-ceiling mirror and glares at his reflection. “but—oh! i must have gotten this mark from my camera bag strap. it was digging into that space between my shoulder and my neck. it’s still sore, actually.”
jimin, with his finger still hovering over the mark, lets out a hum. “checks out. you should add some balm to it, gguk.” and, just like that, the rest of the members go back to what they were originally doing, as if seokjin wasn’t in the middle of having a panic attack from all this back-and-forth. seriously, what the hell was going on? was he really just about to download some apps to find a random stranger in this foreign country to—what? have sex with? he feels crazy, insane.
slowly, everyone peters out after practice is over. seokjin knows he should probably give jeongguk some space given the space jeongguk has been giving him, but when looks up and realises it’s just jeongguk and himself left in the room, jeongguk packing up his stuff, he feels the insanity build so high, he feels a requirement to soothe his own heart. and what better way to soothe his heart than to spend time with his favourite dongsaeng? it’s not like they are anything, gym session be damned. and it’s not crazy to wait for his friend. they can just walk to the cars together to get back to the hotel. that’s totally normal.
“hey, jk-ah!” jeongguk looks up and jerks away. he looks back down to his belongings, hands fidgeting with his backpack, not really tidying up since all his things are already in his bag. seokjin walks the remaining distance towards him. now or never. “you heading to the car?”
without looking up, jeongguk lets out a quiet, “uh. yeah.” seokjin wants to slap himself in the forehead. was that the best he could come up with? they were all heading to the cars, after all.
maybe he should say something about the hickey, too. it feels out of character to not tease him and wouldn’t jeongguk find that out-of-character-ness weird? although everything is weird right now and jeongguk knows it, too; seokjin can’t seriously be the only one to have noticed. but, if he doesn’t say something, right after what happened, or almost happened, at the gym, it would be even weirder. a different type of weird. right?
the words come slipping out of his mouth before he can do anything about it: “you know, if it were me who gave you that hickey, i would have made it much more dark. more visible.”
jeongguk drops his backpack down onto the floor with a thud. he lifts his head and stares incredulously at seokjin. he looks horrified. “why would it be you giving me a hickey.” there’s no lilt at the end of his question; he sounds dead-serious, like this isn’t some big, fucking joke.
seokjin can work with this. it’s a ridiculous conversation—seokjin isn’t even sure if this is really happening—so he just has to say something even more ridiculous. “why wouldn’t it?”
silence stretches for too long before jeongguk interrupts: “hyung?” seokjin drags his eyes away from the mark on jeongguk’s neck—when did he start staring at it?—and catches jeongguk’s eyes. they’re dark, not unlike the day at the gym. his beautiful, round, deep, honest eyes. everything suddenly feels like too much.
“ha! you know. like, if i slapped you in the neck, it would have bruised even more. or something. like that.” he trails off.
jeongguk’s eyes squint and he tilts his head, looking back at him as if seokjin is speaking a foreign language. “right.” he shakes his head slowly, like he doesn’t quite believe seokjin’s words. seokjin wishes he could have more faith in his own words, too. “let’s head to the cars, okay?” he walks away from seokjin, feet heading towards the door. seokjin stares at him, each step taken away from him making the distance between them grow colder. he lets out a deep huff. as if hearing it from all the way where he’s standing, jeongguk turns his head back to look at him. “coming, hyung?”
—
and, just like that, as if seokjin has been crazy this whole time, making shit up in his head, everything changes. or, rather, everything goes back to normal. well, not normal, more… flirty? because what else can you call it when jeongguk goes back to playfighting with him on stage, but this time when they’re singing 'body to body', jeongguk is about two inches away from sticking his hands down seokjin’s pants. it’s part of the song’s choreography, his brain protests, it’s all in jest! but, when this happens three nights in a row, even his brain has nothing to say to that.
one day, he’s walking away from jeongguk during their touch-up session before a concert, and he overhears one of the make-up artists playfully teasing jeongguk: “seokjinnie is the main part of the video you’re making, isn’t he?” he pauses outside of the door, waiting to hear a denial from jeongguk, but instead all he hears is a low giggle.
and it’s true: it seems every chance jeongguk gets, he’s filming seokjin. it’s as if his eyes have become the camera lens, but this time, he’s confident of his staring, never tilting the lens away from seokjin. even the members start complaining. jeongguk is filming seokjin sitting on the cart used to transport them behind-the-stage when jimin, sitting right next to seokjin, whines out a you’re only filming hyung, jeongguk-ie, army are going to be so upset that i’m not in the video at all.
“tough luck, jimin-ssi. look prettier next time if you want to be filmed.” seokjin can immediately feel himself turning red and is thankful for how jimin, mouth wide open in shock, starts throwing whatever he can find at jeongguk, who simply walks away with the camera, smirking.
during their live after they win their ama awards, he won’t stop touching seokjin. under his arms, poking him in the side of his waist, fingers—incriminatingly so—even picking at his underwear. it drives him insane, so insane that he calls him out, right there. army are commenting to tell jeongguk to stop touching seokjin’s underwear!
right after the live ends, he goes back to his room and showers it all off. it’s crazy—he would embrace this back-to-normal behaviour but, man, have these last few weeks given him whiplash. he can’t make sense of anything anymore. he needs to know what’s been going on, because if this is what jeongguk’s idea of fixing it is—well. he’s not happy with it. he needs an explanation. he needs reasons. he needs to know and he wants to not be driven crazy anymore and he needs to find out if jeongguk wants him the way he wants him too, otherwise, he swears he’s going to die.
mind set, he changes into his pyjamas and knocks on jeongguk’s hotel room door. he takes a deep breath then lets it out for one, two, three, four seconds.
when jeongguk opens the door, he’s holding a game console in his hand. oh. seokjin feels warm; he’s actually using the playstation he got for him. “oh, hey, hyung. have you eaten already? wanna play with me?”
he feels ridiculous. has he been living in a delirious state? did he seriously make up the last few weeks? “now you wanna play? you didn’t when i gave you the game. or in the days following.”
jeongguk doesn’t back down, but he does bite his lip, looking apologetic. “yeah, i was… going through something then. but it’s fine now.” he straightens up, releases his lip, and smirks. “play with me, hyung. introduce me to that game.” he turns and heads back inside knowing that seokjin will follow.
helpless, seokjin does.
jeongguk’s desk chair is pulled out, obviously what he was sitting on before seokjin came into the room, but jeongguk waits for seokjin to sit down on his bed before joining him there as well. his bare thighs, naked sans for his shorts, press against seokjin’s pyjama pants, and he can feel the warmth burn through him like a thousand suns.
“what was the game you wanted to play that day, hyung? let me buy it.” seokjin lets his body go on auto-pilot and tells him the name of the game, not really knowing how to take control of the situation. he came here, almost barging in, to demand an explanation and instead he’s playing a game with the man. he feels hysterical, like he’s staring at his own body from afar, finger pointing out, laughing at himself.
a couple minutes into the game, jeongguk starts nudging seokjin lightly with his elbow, before wrapping his right foot around seokjin’s left. cute, really cute, in fact, but not at all what he needs right now. he slowly disentangles his foot from jeongguk’s and the man in question immediately turns to him, hesitance in his glance. probably seeing the seriousness on seokjin’s face, his own face drops.
up close, only a few inches apart, seokjin can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks. before he can help himself, his eyes dart down to jeongguk’s lips. he’s so close to him, it wouldn’t take much to bridge the distance. to finally taste that sweetness, to envelop himself in that heat. but—no. he came here for a purpose and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t see it through.
“what were you thinking, hyung?”
“hmm?”
“just now.” jeongguk licks his lips and seokjin feels his stomach flip. “tell me, hyung.”
he doesn’t mean to, but his response comes out in a whisper. “it’s a bad idea.”
jeongguk smirks. “strangely enough, hyung, i think it’s a good one.”
“you don’t even know what i was about to say.”
“okay, then. i’ll tell you what i was thinking.” jeongguk reaches a hand out to cradle seokjin’s cheek; seokjin holds his breath. jeongguk’s thumb brushes softly against his lower lip. “i was thinking we should do it.”
“it?!”
jeongguk immediately blushes in response. “not it! i mean. maybe. but i meant—we should kiss. i know you were thinking it, too, seokjin-hyung.” and, god, does seokjin want that, too. he’s right. it could be so easy. but. he needs to talk to him first.
he lowers his head but jeongguk’s hand, stubborn, stays on his face. he gets up, shaking his hand off, and starts to walk back-and-forth in front of the television screen. “gguk-ah… why did you stop spending time with me and playfighting with me and… touching me?”
“what do you mean.” he doesn’t expect jeongguk to sound so resigned. such a shift from his cockiness from a few seconds ago.
he nods once, determined. “gguk. i need to know. what did i do wrong? i know you think you fixed it or whatever, but i need to know so i can apologise.”
“hyung.” jeongguk sighs. “you didn’t do anything wrong. it was my problem, i had to fix it.”
“yes, yes, i know, you talked to yoongi. but still. gguk. it involved me. i know it did.”
jeongguk lets out a sudden shout, muffled by something. when seokjin looks at him, he has his face in his arms, shaking slightly. seokjin is a second away from heading over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder when jeongguk looks back up and whines, “i don’t want to talk about feelings. why can’t we just make out?”
he feels that hysteria from earlier rise. jeongguk has already laid himself bare, what’s so wrong if he admits it, too? “it’s not that i don’t want to. i really do.” he feels his chest lighten a bit, and with that, he looks down at jeongguk’s lips again but then shakes his head. he resumes his pacing. “but i need to know so it doesn’t happen again. and, frankly, i’ve been so confused. what went wrong and what fixed it? why are you suddenly so bold with me again?”
jeongguk lets out a noise that sounds like it strangled its way from his throat. “fine. i’ll tell you.”
“so, tell me.” seokjin tries to keep his voice gentle.
“just promise you won’t hate me.” he looks imploringly at his hyung.
seokijn stops walking. “gguk… i don’t think i could ever hate you. you know what you mean to me.” it feels like the wrong words to say, jeongguk’s face crumpling with unshed tears.
he sounds absolutely miserable when the words come spilling out: “i realised you were it for me.” he sniffs. “that’s all. i promise.”
fuck. when he doesn’t continue, seokjin calls on him, hoping he’ll say more. “jeongguk?”
another sniffle. “i. i know it sounds silly, but—”
“it doesn’t.” seokjin quickly cuts him off. “it’s not silly at all.” he smiles at him, and it has its desired effect: jeongguk’s eyes soften, and he takes a deep breath and looks straight at him.
“i realised: if i’m not with you, then i don’t know where else i can be. it’s like. god. i was thinking of that trip we took, do you remember? when we were filming and then the crew asked what we would give to get some ice cream and then i said you and—” seokjin truly has no idea what he’s talking about. jeongguk’s eyes are turning red now, and the bridge of his nose has started to wrinkle. seokjin wants to smooth it out, so he does. “—and then you actually went through with it and left and i was so sad afterwards, hyung. i just wanted to be with you. i didn’t mean for you to go away.”
“what… what are you saying?”
jeongguk clenches his jaw, once. he pouts, and his lips begin to tremble. “i like you hyung. for so long now. i really really like you.”
god. god. seokjin didn’t realise how elated he would feel hearing those words. if only jeongguk didn’t sound so honest-to-god desolate about it. “then why do you sound so upset, oongu-yah?”
“because i am! do you know how upsetting this whole… whole ordeal has been? i didn’t want to ruin everything and i might still be ruining things and i don’t know what i’m supposed to do. i asked yoongi hyung and he said to take things slow and see where they go and that it’ll fix itself eventually but i don’t even understand what that means because how can things fix by itself, right? it has to be me to make that decision and i still don’t know what i’ve decided, if i should even tell you, and i guess i’m telling you right now, but i didn’t mean to, hyung, i promise, and hobi hyung and namjoon hyung were diplomatic and all—”
“jeongguk-ie, slow down.”
“—but they still encouraged me to go for it, and i… i got scared and i didn’t know what you felt but then that day at the gym, you looked. you looked at me and. i realised. maybe… maybe you might want me back. but i didn’t know in what way, if you just wanted me for my body or for… for me. so i thought, well, if it is just for my body, then okay. i’m okay with that. i still get what i want, kinda. even if it’s not everything, it’s still something.” that’s… fuck. that’s so much. seokjin can’t wrap his head around it all.
but it feels awfully close to: i like you and i want you back and it’s not just physical attraction, not for me. it’s real and it’s everything.
“say something, hyung.” jeongguk trembles out.
“i missed you so much. when you were gone, i mean, you weren’t really gone, but. i missed you so much. it felt like torture. i hadn’t realised how much i depended on it. fuck. i sound like, i don’t know, but—please don’t go away from me again. i missed you.”
“oh. and. when you say that, do you mean—you missed me like a dongsaeng or like someone you’re attracted to or…” he furrows his brows. “or like someone you could… i mean, do you…?”
“yes.”
jeongguk laughs and it feels like spring. “you don’t even know what i was saying,” he mimics seokjin’s words from earlier.
“i do. you were going to ask if i like you that way, you know.”
jeongguk bites his lips, as if trying not to smile. “that way, huh?”
“yeah. you know, like…”
“loving you?” jeongguk asks. “because i do. love you, that is.”
there’s that feeling again: that feeling of rightness and happiness and that this is how it should be. “yeah. loving you. that.”
they stare at each other for a few seconds, before jeongguk shakily stands up from the bed and walks the few steps towards seokjin. he looks like he’s about to kiss him so it shocks seokjin when instead he wraps his hands around his waist and shoves his head into seokjin’s neck. seokjin envelopes his arms around jeongguk’s body without even a second’s thought. jeongguk breathes out against his neck. “i’m sorry, hyung, for the last few weeks.”
“hush. you don’t have to apologise. i’m sorry. i wish we had talked it out the first day.” he feels his neck grow warm where jeongguk’s head is resting against it and realises jeongguk’s blushing. “actually, when was the first day? when did you realise and then as a result stop touching me?”
“it’s stupid,” he mumbles into seokjin’s neck. he can feel his veins tingling where jeongguk’s breath fans across it.
“i already told you, jk—”
“no, i know. but, you’re going to laugh. all the other hyungs did, too.” seokjin feels a laugh bubble out of him at the thought. jeongguk’s head rises to glare at him. “see!”
“say it anyway.”
jeongguk sighs, then confesses: “i heard the bells.”
“what?”
“the bells, hyung.” he steps away from seokjin to flop onto the bed on his stomach. not for the first time that night, he screams into his arms, then turns back onto his back. god, this man is ridiculous and dramatic and so, so lovable.
“i was singing 'into the sun', and you were standing right in front of me, holding my mic and i—couldn’t look anywhere else, hyung. and then i heard the bells.”
“the bells.” seokjin repeats.
“yeah.” he sighs wistfully, staring up at the ceiling. then, narrowing his eyes, his shifts his weight onto his elbows and leans up on the bed, glaring at seokjin. “you’re laughing.”
“i’m not! i’m not!” seokjin laughs out.
jeongguk glares for a few more seconds before joining in with a low chuckle. “it was just confirmation. that you’re it for me.” he sits back up and grabs both of seokjin’s hands and starts fidgeting with his fingers. seokjin has missed this so, so much.
“yeah?”
“yeah. hyung… all my songs. i want to write all my love songs for you.”
“so they weren’t already? you don’t want to fuck hyung seven times a week?” he tuts.
jeongguk pouts. “hyung… you’re teasing me. you know i don’t have writing credits on that one.”
“but you do want to? don’t you?”
jeongguk rolls his eyes, then pulls seokjin close to him, close enough that he could feel all his warmth against him. “whatever you say, hyung.”
he lets go of seokjin’s hands, bringing one of his own to cradle seokjin’s face. he lowers his eyes till they land on seokjin’s lips and seokjin licks them in response. eyes darkening, he looks back up at seokjin’s eyes, searching for an answer. yes, you silly boy, yes, yes, yes, seokjin hopes his eyes call out, until finally, finally, he leans in and kisses seokjin.
if seokjin could have predicted their first kiss, he would have guessed it would be hot and heavy. a push that would yank all thoughts out of his head and leave him reeling. a kiss that was so jeongguk, eager and focused on pleasing the other.
but, instead, it’s soft. as if he already knows seokjin, so there’s no need to explore and experiment. as if it’s exactly what seokjin wants—and his heart could burst, because it is, it is. jeongguk’s other hand tangles in seokjin’s hair, pulling gently, a hint of it deepening, a promise of more and more and more, but otherwise, for now, it’s all he needs: a delicate pressure, light and honey-sweet. he pulls away, and repeats, eyes glistening: “whatever you say.”