Work Text:
Jungkook is standing on the corner waiting to cross the street when Jimin calls him. He stops watching the girl in the car at the stoplight next to him apply her makeup in her rearview mirror and taps the accept call button.
“What’s up?” Jungkook says.
“Jungkook,” Jimin croons. “Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook."
“My name,” Jungkook says. The light changes, and the red hand on the other side of the street turns into a bright little walking figure.
“Yeah?” Jimin says.
“That’s it,” Jungkook says, trying to make eye contact with the girl in an effort to ensure his safe crossing. She's applying mascara, and doesn't notice Jungkook. He starts to cross anyways.
“I know,” Jimin says.
“Are you drunk?” Jungkook says.
“I have a paper due, like, yesterday,” Jimin says. “Of course I’m drunk.”
“Sucks for you,” Jungkook says, and starts to cross the street. “But you still haven’t told me what’s up.”
“Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice or something,” Jimin says.
“Okay,” Jungkook says.
“I was actually going to ask if you wanted to get drunk and work on papers with me when you got back from class,” Jimin says.
“I don’t have any papers due this week,” Jungkook says.
Jimin makes a small rumbling noise in the back of his throat. “I hate freshmen.”
“I couldn’t anyways,” Jungkook says. “I’m on my way to Namjoon’s.”
“Wait, really? The Genius Lab?” Jimin’s voice squeaks with curiosity for a second.
“The Genius Lab?” Jungkook mimics.
“Stop it,” Jimin whines. “For real, though?”
“The Genius Lab,” Jungkook confirms.
“You need to tell me, like, all about it,” Jimin says.
“Haven’t you been there, though? When you hooked up with Yoongi?” Jungkook says.
“Ahhh,” Jimin wails for a second, during which Jungkook wishes he could see Jimin’s face, before composing himself. “Anyways, I wasn’t exactly like. Getting a tour. I was occupied, Jungkook.” He makes the last part very unnecessarily breathy.
“You’re breaking my brain,” Jungkook mutters.
Jimin snickers. “Sorry. Sweet baby.”
“You’re the sweet baby,” Jungkook says.
“I’m a junior!” Jimin protests. “I’m your hyung! Tell me I’m handsome instead.”
“You’re handsome,” Jungkook says.
“Good,” Jimin says. “Call me later?”
“I will,” Jungkook says.
When Jungkook knocks on the door of Namjoon’s apartment, he immediately hears something crash inside. This does not surprise him: Namjoon’s apartment is a place where Namjoon lives, and so Namjoon is in there, and so things are going to crash.
He is surprised, however, when the door opens to reveal not Namjoon but Yoongi. Yoongi is blonder than he was when Jungkook last saw him. He is also wearing less clothing. Not that he’s indecent or anything. He's wearing a long sleeve shirt and a t-shirt over that and a pair of boxers. Maybe it's just a contrast thing: despite knowing Yoongi for several months, Jungkook has never seen his knees.
“Hey,” Yoongi says, blinking, eyes narrowed cat-like, into the doorway. “Oh. Jungkook!” He leans against the doorway and blinks some more. The corners of his mouth pull up to show his gums as he smiles. It's a nice smile. It kind of looks like he never lost his baby teeth and just continued to adulthood with tiny little nubs. “I didn’t know you were stopping by, kid!” He reaches out and takes Jungkook’s hand and twines all their fingers together and pulls him into the apartment. “Yah, Namjoon! Look at Jeon Jungkook! He’s here!”
“I’m here,” Jungkook says.
The Lab is dark and selectively tidy, from what Jungkook can see. Namjoon is nowhere to be seen, but his voice comes from one of the bedrooms. “Jungkook!”
“He’ll be right out,” Yoongi says, and snickers to himself like he’s some sort of bridge troll.
“I’ll be right out!” Namjoon’s voice says, oblivious. Yoongi leads Jungkook over to the couch, which is leaking stuffing, and sits down. Yoongi is cool, and so Jungkook sits on his lap.
Yoongi huffs out a contented little breath and squeezes Jungkook around his waist. “So what brings you here?” he asks, mostly into Jungkook’s shoulder. “I haven't seen you in a while.”
“Well, I asked Namjoon-hyung if he could look at a couple of songs I wrote,” Jungkook says.
“You're writing songs now?” Yoongi says. “Our golden boy.” He pokes Jungkook tenderly in the ribs.
“I’ve been wanting to for a while,” Jungkook says. “It's hard to start. To not be any good at it, you know?”
“I was a musical genius from the cradle onward,” Yoongi says. “Can't relate.”
“Don't pay any attention to him,” Namjoon says, emerging from the bedroom, cradling a pizza box, lanky and bowlegged. “He's on his….sixth americano? I think.”
“And I haven't slept in twenty-nine hours,” Yoongi says. He is lightly nuzzling against Jungkook’s left scapula.
“You should, uh. Sleep?” Jungkook says.
“He should definitely sleep,” Namjoon says.
Hoseok returns from a meeting with his advisor to find the apartment mostly quiet, as it usually is. There's the dulled sound of Namjoon talking to someone behind his bedroom door, which Hoseok is also used to. Namjoon has friends all over the world who he is always calling or skyping; he's really interested in people, even if they wear him out. Hoseok can't relate to the last part, but he likes to people-watch with Namjoon, and to discuss their friends and acquaintances in a kind and nurturing manner.
Hoseok immediately goes to the kitchenette to start a pot of coffee, not even bothering to take his backpack off. He’s become the master of the twelve-minute powernap followed by quick and copious caffeination.
Once he’s prepared for the aftermath of his nap, he pads to his bedroom, ready to toss his backpack in the corner and lie under the dark wings of sleep for twelve sweet minutes.
Here, his routine comes to a grinding halt.
Yoongi is in his bed.
Hoseok freezes in the doorway.
It’s not like he’s never seen Yoongi sleep before. They live together. He’s probably seen Yoongi sleep more than he’s seen some people he’s dated sleep. It’s kind of Yoongi’s thing: sitting somewhere improbable, droopy-eyed, before dropping off into a solid and enjoyable-looking nap, unaffected by noise, company, or the possibility of cricked necks and numb feet. Hoseok doesn’t really think that Yoongi sleeps more than other people. Kind of the opposite, actually. Instead of doing his sleeping at night when no one can see him, he has to take what he can get during the day. But sleeping is sort of his thing. His trademark, if you will, and so it shouldn’t catch Hoseok the way that it is, but it does.
He wouldn’t say that he watches Yoongi sleep, per se, because that would be creepy and kind of weird. But Yoongi always looks content when he’s sleeping, and contentment looks good on him. Hoseok likes to see people content, and so when Yoongi is sleeping at a party, or on the living room couch, or in the seat next to him on the bus, Hoseok tends to semi-consciously steal glances. Now that Yoongi is asleep in his bed, Hoseok finds that he’s been standing and staring for. Well. Long enough that he’s glad no one saw him standing and staring.
He leaves Yoongi, curled up on top of the blankets with his hands tucked between his thighs, hair flopped over his face, and goes into Namjoon’s room.
“Oh. Hey, Jungkook,” he says.
Jungkook’s semi-perpetual look of startled surprise is replaced with a grin. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Yeah, what’s up, Hobi?” Namjoon says, twirling his desk chair around.
“Um. Yoongi?” Hoseok says.
“Yeah,” Namjoon says.
“He’s in my bed.”
Namjoon pulls an extremely awkward face. It's unclear what kind of emotion he’s trying to convey. “I see,” he says.
Jungkook is smirking in one corner of his mouth, but he also looks slightly terrified.
“He’s asleep,” Hoseok clarifies.
“Oh,” Namjoon says. “Sorry. I told him to go to sleep. I didn’t specify where.”
“No, that’s okay,” Hoseok says.
“You can kick him out,” Namjoon says.
“He hadn’t slept in twenty-nine hours,” Jungkook says.
Hoseok winces. He firmly believes in eating a measured amount of food, drinking lots of water, and getting a measured amount of sleep. “It’s okay. I’ll let him sleep. I can’t sleep for long anyways.”
“Twelve minute powernap?” Namjoon says.
“Yeah,” Hoseok says.
“You can borrow my bed,” Namjoon says, and swivels his chair around to face his computer again.
Jungkook is sitting on the foot of Namjoon’s bed, laptop balanced on one knee. He pats the mattress with one hand. Hoseok is endeared; he looks about twelve. Hoseok is also brimming with bone-deep tiredness.
“Okay,” Hoseok says. He leaves his backpack outside the door and tosses his hat at Jungkook, flopping down in between Jungkook and the wall. Everything smells like a hug from Namjoon, but more intense. It's. Really nice. “Wake me up in twelve minutes,” he says.
“Okay,” Jungkook says solemnly.
“Goodnight,” Namjoon says.
Jungkook calls Jimin as soon as he leaves Namjoon’s. His brain feels physically mushy in his skull, and he is overcaffeinated. It’s kind of like he just sat through the longest lecture of his life, but it’s not necessarily a bad feeling.
“Hey,” Jungkook says.
“So how was it? I'm kind of dying to know. Also I threw up and I only wrote two sentences of my paper,” Jimin says.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says. “How about I come over and tell you all about the Lab and then blow you?”
“Oh, wow,” Jimin sighs. “A man after my own heart. An angel.”
Jimin is lying in his bed under about five blankets with a mug of tea in his hand when Jungkook gets back. He pats the space on the blankets next to him, and Jungkook folds himself up next to Jimin.
“Spill,” Jimin says, gesturing incoherently with the mug.
“Well,” Jungkook says. “Namjoon broke a cup, and a speaker, and he almost broke my phone, but I caught it.”
“Continue,” Jimin says.
“Someone kept playing a saxophone in one of the other apartments, and they were all just like, oh, that’s down-the-hall-Tae, and someone said noodlescarf and everyone laughed like that was supposed to mean something?”
“Wait,” Jimin says. “Who’s everyone?”
“Namjoon, Yoongi, and Namjoon’s other roommate. I don’t know if you know him?”
“Hoseok?” Jimin says.
“Yeah,” Jungkook says.
“Oh, I know him,” Jimin says, and winks.
“Interesting,” Jungkook says.
“He was really into doing stuff with ropes,” Jimin says. “So was I.”
“Uh. Interesting,” Jungkook says.
Jimin winks with his other eye.
“So yeah, that was pretty much it,” Jungkook says.
“And Namjoon heard your songs and was like, oh my god, hello, Korean Justin Bieber,” Jimin says, as Jungkook crawls on top of him and straddles his hips.
“I mean, he didn’t think that, and if he did, what is he gonna do about it?” Jungkook says, skimming his hands up and down Jimin’s sides to make him squirm.
“You’re going to make me spill my tea,” Jimin complains.
“Put the mug down, then,” Jungkook says.
“Fine,” Jimin sighs. “But for real. Namjoon thought you were amazing, right? He’s gonna teach you, like, everything he knows, yeah?”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook says. “I hope so.”
Jimin smiles up at him. His smile is always so bright, but right now, with the full force of it aimed right at Jungkook, it feels like his heart is plunging straight down a waterslide.
He doesn’t know what to do about it, really. Jimin purses his lips and makes kissy noises and grins even bigger, and oh.
Jungkook leans down and cups Jimin’s face in his hands, pressing their lips together. Kissing Jimin is such a nice, pillowy, soft kind of experience. Sometimes he tastes like strawberry-flavored chapstick, and sometimes he tastes like tea. Sometimes he just tastes sort of Jimin-y. Jungkook could honestly kiss Jimin forever.
They kiss for a while, and then Jimin starts arching his hips up to rub against Jungkook’s thigh, giving Jungkook’s hair pointed little tugs.
“Okay, okay,” Jungkook mumbles. “Bossy.”
“You promised!” Jimin says, and gives his head a little shove, because he knows Jungkook likes it when he pushes him around.
Jungkook loves giving people blowjobs, but he really loves giving Jimin blowjobs. Maybe it’s the way that Jimin doesn’t hold back, shows how good he feels in every line of his body. Maybe it’s the way that Jimin murmurs a steady stream of praise the whole time, fingers wrapped in Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook doesn’t know what it is, but he feels kind of breathless when he blows Jimin, and it’s not just because of the dick in his mouth.
“Uh, wait a minute,” Jungkook says. “Are you on your phone?”
“Jungkook, don’t stop,” Jimin says, whiny, wiggling his hips and giving his phone screen a final tap. Lana Del Rey blares tinnily from his phone speakers.
“Really?” Jungkook says.
“She’s a queen,” Jimin says.
“But while I’m blowing you?”
“This is hardly weird sex music, Jungkook,” Jimin says. “She’s sultry.”
“But I was literally right in the middle of blowing you,” Jungkook says.
“Jungkook,” Jimin says. “Come on!”
“You’re ridiculous,” Jungkook says.
“You love it, though,” Jimin says.
Jungkook doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just puts his mouth back on Jimin’s dick.
“Wanna take a break from watching Yoongi sleep and come look at this song?” Namjoon asks, very close to Hoseok’s ear. Hoseok jumps, screams, immediately tries to hold back the scream, and ends up just falling on the floor.
“You’re terrible,” Hoseok says. “That’s a war crime.”
“Don’t trivialize war crimes,” Namjoon says.
“Fuck you,” Hoseok mumbles, accepting Namjoon’s hand even though he thinks it’s more likely that Namjoon will accidently bash his head against the wall than succeed in helping him up.
“We should probably wake him up soon, anyways,” Namjoon says. “He’ll be all pissy if we get into the songs without him.”
“Yeah,” Hoseok agrees, and pads after him to his bedroom. If it was anyone besides Namjoon, Hoseok would feel worse about being caught being sort of a creep, but Namjoon is easy to be around, relaxed and accepting in general of human weirdness. This is good, because Hoseok is brimming with human weirdness. Sometimes, Hoseok’s stomach flips when Namjoon is particularly accepting of some oddity about Hoseok. Hoseok thinks it’s partly because he is kind of a lot, and people aren’t usually so understanding about that as Namjoon. Hoseok doesn’t know about the other part; just that it’s terrible and there’s a lot of hellfire and blood and screeching involved. He tries not to think about that part, and also not to think about Namjoon leading him to his bedroom, maybe taking his hand, watching Namjoon’s dimples pop out as he smiles.
Anyway. Hoseok hates himself.
But he hates himself a little less when he and Namjoon settle together and get to work. It always just feels right, when they work together, like the gaps in Hoseok get filled by Namjoon and vice versa. They get into it, so into it that even when they realize they’d worked through half the night they decide to keep going. It’s about six in the morning when they hear Yoongi clear his throat loudly in the doorway.
“What’s up?” he says, ambling in and plopping down on the bed.
“Not much,” Namjoon says, taking his headphones off and sliding them around his neck. Yoongi rolls until he’s close enough that Namjoon can slide his desk chair back and poke him in the nose. It’s affectionate and goofy. Yoongi scrunches up his face and Namjoon smiles.
“What time is it, anyways?” Yoongi says. “I don’t know where my phone is.”
“Oh, sorry. I saw it sitting on the nightstand and I started charging it for you. It’s over there,” Hoseok says.
“No, it’s cool,” Yoongi says. “We just have to go pick Jin up from the airport early tomorrow, and there’s some stuff I wanted to get done before he got home, you know?”
Namjoon’s mouth drops open. “Oh, shit.”
“Namjoon,” Yoongi says. “How long did I sleep for? What time is it?”
“Uh,” Namjoon says.
Hoseok’s phone vibrates. It’s a text from Jin.
UH hello hobi, did my boyfriends forget me again??
“I’m the worst boyfriend in the world,” Namjoon says sadly.
“Maybe,” Yoongi says.
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to be the worst,” Namjoon says.
“We’re competing for the title,” Yoongi says, rolling out of bed and landing on the ground with a thunk.
“I just didn’t want to wake you up,” Namjoon says, mournful, but Yoongi is already yelling for them to hustle the fuck up, assholes.
“Is that why you were sleeping in my bed?” Hoseok says, as they rush towards Yoongi’s car.
Yoongi glances sideways at him. “Oh. Yeah. I washed the sheets ‘cause I hadn’t washed them since Jin left, and he would complain. There weren’t any sheets on the bed, so. You know.”
“You, acting like you couldn’t sleep on a bed without sheets,” Namjoon scoffs.
“Shut up ,” Yoongi hisses, and jabs Namjoon in the ribs.
Hoseok feels like a creep, sliding in the backseat while Yoongi settles in behind the wheel, and Namjoon buckles himself into the passenger side seat. Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin are boyfriends. They’re happy and good together, even if sometimes Jin gets left at the airport, and Hoseok is their friend and roommate, and needs to knock it off.
Jungkook bangs on the door a few more times for good measure. “Namjoon-hyung!” he calls. “Yoongi-hyung! Hobi-hyung!” There is still no response.
“Hey,” comes a voice from down the hall.
Jungkook starts, spins on his toes.
“Hi there, you beautiful boy.” The voice is coming from someone poking their head out of their apartment. It’s a nice voice: low and kind of...sensual?
“Hello,” Jungkook says. When he gets closer, he can see that the person has a long dangling silver earring and fluffy honey-colored hair and a weird-shaped smile.
“If you’re looking for those lovely rhyme boys, I saw them all leave in a pack,” the person says.
“Yeah, I was,” Jungkook says.
The person nods sagely. “They looked like they were on a mission. I saw them striding through the parking lot very quickly.”
“Oh,” Jungkook says. “I was supposed to meet with them, but I guess. I’m not?”
“I guess,” the person says. “You can come closer if you want. My name’s Taehyung, and I only bite in a sexual way.”
“I’m Jungkook,” Jungkook says.
“Nice to meet you,” Taehyung says. He’s stepped into the hallway, and is standing with one hip cocked and a knowing smile in the corner of his mouth. He is wearing something best described as a robe, made out of a fabric that is lavender and silky. “So are you trying to be a rhyming boy?”
“Kind of,” Jungkook says. “I want to start, like. Producing my own music for real. Recording my songs.”
“That’s awesome,” Taehyung says. He pulls a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses out of the breast pocket of his robe and settles them on his nose, unsubtly letting the front of the robe fall a little more open. Jungkook suddenly realizes that he is, physically, Very Close to Taehyung, even though he’s not sure when he stepped forward.
“If I wasn't a photography major,” Taehyung says, setting the palms of his hands on the wall and arching his back and sticking his leg out of the slit of his robe, “which I am, I would be the most extraordinary, and the hottest, saxophone player in this whole city.”
“So you’re down-the-hall Tae?” Jungkook says.
“Well, I am Tae, and from some people’s perspective I do live down the hall, so yes,” Taehyung says.
“I’ve heard your saxophone,” Jungkook says.
“I try to stay in practice,” Taehyung says.
“That's cool,” Jungkook says.
“Wanna come in and make out?” Taehyung says.
“Uh,” Jungkook says. “Yeah. Really yeah.”
“The crystals never lie,” Taehyung sighs. “Follow me, you lovely rabbit - faced boy.”
“Wait,” Jungkook says. “The crystals?”
Taehyung grabs the neck of Jungkook’s shirt and pulls him closer. Mostly he just stretches the shirt out, but Jungkook doesn't really mind. “Don’t worry about the crystals,” Taehyung says, pressing a meaningful kiss above Jungkook’s collarbone.
“What crystals?” Jungkook mumbles. “I don’t know any crystals. You never even said a word about crystals.”
“You blatantly disrespecting the powerful forces and spirits that surround us? Kinda hot,” Taehyung says.
Jungkook starts awake to the sound of the door pounding. When his body comes online, he realizes that his nipples are sore, there’s something that feels firm and plasticine digging into his side, and Taehyung has a hand curved, loose but protective, around the dip above his hip. Taehyung sleeps on, oblivious, his mouth hanging open slightly. God, he’s hot, but also: god, Jungkook wishes that were him under the velvety curtain of sleep. His head hurts .
He sighs and wiggles whatever the uncomfortable lump he’s laying on out from under himself. It is a very bright pink dildo.
“Taehyung,” Jungkook says. “Taehyung. Someone’s at the door.”
“Huh?” Taehyung says, starting awake. Something about the quick flash of worry on his face makes Jungkook want to pull him close, but he just runs his foot up Taehyung’s calf under the sheets and says, “someone’s at the door.”
“Ah, the cursed door,” Taehyung sighs, fluttering his eyes shut. The pounding starts up again, and Taehyung flashes his lovely rectangle grin up at Jungkook. It makes Jungkook’s heart do that same weird little slip-and-slide it had done earlier with Jimin, and oh fuck. Jimin.
“Hey! Jeon Jungkook!” Jimin shouts from the other side of Taehyung’s door. “I know you’re in there!”
Taehyung raises an eyebrow at Jungkook. “If you make me fight off an angry boyfriend this early in the morning, I swear…”
“Well, for one thing it’s…” Jungkook squints at the sun filtering in through the windows and hazards a guess “like, twelve o clock? Also he’s not my boyfriend, just my friend. And my roommate. Kind of. I never told him I wasn’t coming home last night.”
Taehyung squints at him. “Okay. Pass me the dildo.”
“Uh. Sure?” Jungkook says.
“And the sheets.”
“Okay?”
Taehyung looks regal even draped in his sheets, which Jungkook realizes belatedly are printed with about a million Mickey Mouses.
“Be right back,” he says, and goes to get the door, trailing the sheets behind him. Honestly, as memories of the evening begin to come back, Jungkook can’t say that the sheets would have put him off much even if he’d noticed.
He rolls out of bed and follows behind Taehyung.
Jimin spots Jungkook as soon as Taehyung opens the door.
“Pardon me,” he says, squeezing past Taehyung to wrap Jungkook in a hug. “Jeon Jungkook! I was so worried about you! You said you’d be home.”
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook mutters, and he feels sort of awful and miserable, thinking of Jimin sitting in bed worrying about him.
“Just tell me next time,” Jimin says, burying his head in Jungkook’s chest and swaying them back and forth. “Please, Jungkookie.”
“I will,” Jungkook says. “I promise.” He hugs Jimin tight for a few seconds, before he realizes. “How’d you find me, anyways?”
“Uh. Snapchat bitmoji map?” Jimin says.
“You’re so powerful,” Jungkook says into Jimin’s hair.
“So,” Taehyung says, looking between Jimin and Jungkook. At Jungkook’s fully naked torso pressed against Jimin, in particular. “Roommates?”
Jimin turns to look at Taehyung.
“Well,” Jungkook says.
Taehyung winks. Jimin blinks, because that is usually his move.
“Hi. I’m Jimin,” he offers.
“Taehyung,”
“Nice dildo,” Jimin says. “I like the color. Where’d you get it?”
“Eh, I ordered it online. I can’t remember from where, to be honest,” Taehyung says. “I’ve had it for a while. I’ve got a pretty big collection.”
Jimin looks at Jungkook like, are you hearing this?
Taehyung smirks, wiggles his shoulders until the sheets flop off and fall around his waist. “Nip slip,” he says.
“Is it?” Jimin says.
Taehyung winks again.
“Anyways,” he says, turning towards his kitchen. “Do either of you want some tea? Hot chocolate?”
“Tea, please,” Jimin says.
“Do you have any banana milk?” Jungkook says.
“Oh my god,” Taehyung says. “You’re so cute. I have strawberry?”
Taehyung’s couch is covered in a huge blanket cobbled together from scraps of velvet and satin. It is a sensory experience. They all curl up in a row and regard each other over their drinks.
“So are you two, like?” Taehyung says, cupping his delicate robin’s-egg-blue glazed mug in his elegant hands. “I mean, I know you are, but I wouldn’t mind hearing about it. Or watching it. Or participating in it.”
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever been prepositioned to have a threesome by someone drinking hot chocolate,” Jimin says.
“There’s a first time for everything,” Taehyung says, raising his mug in a careless toast.
“That’s true,” Jimin says, replying with a toast of his own with his teacup. “Hey, Jungkookie, this would be your first threesome, right?”
“Sorry,” Jungkook says, “but no.”
“A second time for everything?” Taehyung suggests.
“More like a third,” Jungkook says.
“Jungkookie!” Jimin squeals, poked him in the ribs, delighted.
“He’s getting red,” Taehyung says. “Cute.”
“Aww, going to act shy, now?” Jimin says, setting his teacup on the ground.
“Maybe,” Jungkook mumbles, sipping the last of his strawberry milk casually, glancing quickly at Taehyung. He’s set his mug down, too, sitting back on his heels, expectant. Jungkook feels hot from the way they both look at him, hungry and wanting, and he wants, too, so intense that a little shiver runs up his spine.
“Do you want me to kiss you or Taehyung first?” Jimin says, low, in his ear.
“Me, me, please,” Jungkook says. He reaches to pull Jimin closer, but Jimin’s already sliding into his lap. He’s warm and firm-soft, even just the rub of his pants on Jungkook’s bare skin A Lot, and he kisses Jungkook dirty, like knowing that Taehyung is watching has him worked up already.
“Is this okay?” he says when he breaks the kiss.
Jungkook nods. “Really, really okay.”
“Good,” Jimin says. The long line of his neck, the curve of his jaw, are so gorgeous as he turns his head towards Taehyung. “Are you cool with everything, too?” he says.
“What Jungkook said,” Taehyung says, and leans forward to kiss Jimin. There’s so much well-moisturized glossy lip involved. Jungkook’s pretty sure he could watch them kiss forever. If there was one of those 1 HOUR VERSIONS! of them kissing on youtube, Jungkook would play it on loop for days.
“He likes what he sees,” Taehyung says when they pull apart. Jimin giggles.
“It kind of feels like it’s my birthday?” Jungkook says.
“I’m glad it isn’t,” Jimin says. “One Libra is enough in this threesome.”
“Ooh! A Libra? After the fun stuff,” Taehyung says. “We have to do the really fun stuff, and discuss astrology.”
Jimin quirks an eyebrow at Taehyung. “It’s a date, then.”
“You guys,” Jungkook says. “Can we continue with the fun stuff?”
They both round on him. “Impatient, huh,” Jimin says, running his hands up Jungkook’s chest.
“Very,” Taehyung says, skating his fingers over the sensitive skin by the inner corner of Jungkook’s hipbones.
“Rude.” Jimin rubs his thumbs over Jungkook’s nipples, terrible and teasing.
“If I die, tell my mom I got hit by a truck or something,” Jungkook says.
They’re all lying in a sticky naked pile on Taehyung’s bed when someone starts pounding on the door.
Taehyung immediately props himself up on his elbows and shoots Jimin a Look. “You better not have a boyfriend who’s about to come attack me with a sword,” he says.
“I don’t,” Jimin says, very solemnly.
“Jungkook?” Namjoon calls.
“Release him from your clutches, Kim Taehyung,” calls another voice.
Taehyung brightens. “Jin-hyung?” He calls, scrambling out of bed.
“Aren’t you gonna, uh,” Jungkook says.
Taehyung pauses, cocks his head to the side. “My robe!”
“It’s over there, I think,” Jimin points.
While Taehyung goes to answer the door, Jungkook starts hunting for his jeans. It is bad enough that Namjoon is going to know that Jungkook is a sexual being. He doesn’t think he could ever look Namjoon in the eye ever again if he actually saw his dick.
“Thanks for the view,” Jimin says.
“Please, put pants on,” Jungkook pleads.
They are all mostly decent, sort of, by the time Namjoon and Yoongi and Hoseok and a tall, broad-shouldered, very beautiful man crowd in.
“Hello,” Namjoon says. Jungkook wonders if he would be able to make a run for Taehyung’s window and jump out or if he would get caught in the vines from the abundance of plants lying around Taehyung’s apartment.
“Oh, hey, Park Jimin,” Hoseok says.
Yoongi waves awkwardly, chin retracting into his neck.
“We just realized that we weren't at the apartment yesterday when we were supposed to meet,” Namjoon explains, as Taehyung climbs onto the broad-shouldered guy’s back. “I texted you to see if you could meet up this afternoon, and then you didn’t text back, and Yoongi started worrying.”
“He’s like a nosy old auntie,” Hoseok says.
“Fuck you,” Yoongi says.
“Yah, what are you doing,” Namjoon says mildly, as Taehyung’s arm flails dangerously close to his head.
“You didn’t tell me Jin-hyung was coming back,” Taehyung says. “I can’t believe it. Also where did you find these two beautiful boys?”
“I think it’s more like we found you ,” Jungkook says. Taehyung’s head snaps around to look at him, and when he meets Jungkook’s eyes, he grins wide and bright.
“Maybe so,” Taehyung says.
“Wait,” Jimin says. “How did all of you know to come here?”
Namjoon exchanges glances with Yoongi and Hoseok and the broad-shouldered one, Jin.
“Well,” Hoseok says.
“Listen,” Yoongi says.
“Down-the-hall-Tae is very powerful,” Namjoon says.
“Fuck yeah, I am,” Taehyung says contentedly.
“Go put a shirt on and I’ll make you and your boys lunch,” Jin says, swatting Taehyung’s thighs.
“My boys,” Taehyung says, hopping down and away delightedly.
“I’m no one’s boy,” Jimin says, narrowing his eyes and flaring his nostrils that cute way he does. It’s all a show, flirty and joking, and it comes so easy to him that it always makes Jungkook feel big and clunky and closed off, next to him.
Taehyung stops in front of the two and looks down at Jimin, wide-eyed. “I’ll be your boy, then,” he says, airy, and then trails a finger across Jimin’s collarbone and over his bicep and up Jungkook’s shoulder.
“Lunch,” Namjoon says, and the four of them shuffle out of the door.
Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook all stand there for a second, looking at each other.
Jungkook isn’t sure who starts giggling first: probably Jimin, but all of a sudden they’re clutching each other and laughing so hard it hurts, red-faced.
“Yoongi’s face when he saw you,” Taehyung says to Jimin, arms wrapped tight around Jungkook’s shoulders. “Priceless. What’s up there?”
“Guess,” Jimin says.
“I’ll do a full tarot card spread about it later,” Taehyung says, reaching for Jimin’s hand. “Let’s be friends? All of us?”
“Oh,” Jimin says. His smile is glowing, so bright and strong. Jungkook feels warm all over.
“Let’s,” Jungkook says. Taehyung squeezes him even tighter.
“What he said,” Jimin says, attaching himself to Jungkook’s other side.
“Lunch?” Jungkook says.
“Lead the way,” Taehyung says.
Everything’s a little better when Jin’s back. When Hoseok gets home from class, there’s real food in the fridge, and Namjoon stops leaving his dirty socks tossed in various corners.Yoongi’s pile of unwashed coffee mugs in the sink are passive-aggressively placed someplace where he will trip over them, and so he starts washing them until the sink is useable again. And besides that, Jin is just a bright person to have around: positive and funny. Hoseok really likes hearing his weird squeaky laugh through the apartment.
That’s part of the problem, though. Jin is so funny and flirty and thoughtful, and when they go to the little hole-in-the-wall noodle shop around the corner or to the movie theatre or when they’re riding the bus, Jin always insists that Hoseok should sit next to him.
“So I don’t feel like the third wheel,” he’ll say. He’ll then proceed to wink at Hoseok, blow him kisses, pull finger hearts out from behind his ear, and press his thigh against Hoseok’s, while Hoseok sweats like a high-schooler.
It’s fine. That’s just how Jin is. Hoseok decides to just enjoy being flirted with by someone who is, objectively, very handsome, even if it's just a joke.
But the final aspect of the problem, the part that Hoseok keeps mulling over, is that sometimes, he really thinks that maybe Jin might actually be flirting with him for real.
It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s really fine. Hoseok comes home from work and sees Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jin all curled up like a pile of stuffed animals on the couch, watching anime or one of those documentaries Namjoon is always going on about, or one of Yoongi’s rom-com DVDs, and he’s happy that they have each other. Yoongi and Namjoon light up when Jin’s around, write him songs and tease him half to death, and Yoongi brusquely brings home some pink candy and acts like he picked it up on the side of the road when Hoseok knows for a fact that he had to drive twenty minutes to go to the fancy candy shop to get it. Sometimes when Hoseok gets up early to go to class he sees Namjoon and Jin in the tiny kitchenette, sitting side by side on the counter, talking quietly with their heads close together and sharing snacks or mugs of coffee. Namjoon looks at Jin like Jin knows all of secrets of the universe, like he’s some cosmic wonder. Hoseok couldn’t compete with that.
Once, when Yoongi and Jin and Namjoon had all smiled lazily at him and Jin had patted the space on the couch next to them, Hoseok had sat down next to them. They’d been watching some drama, one that Hoseok didn’t keep up with but Jin and Yoongi evidently did. They had tried to fill him in on the plot, but Hoseok had barely been able to hear them, because the couch was so old that anyone who sat on it kind of just ended up in a pile in the center of it, and so Hoseok was slowly being absorbed into Yoongi and Jin and Namjoon’s Boyfriend Blob. It had felt so good, Jin’s leg hooked over his thigh and Yoongi’s hand wormed into his and Namjoon’s shoulder overlapping his so that Hoseok is getting shoved into the couch cushions. Everything was soft and warm and wonderful, and even when the movie ended they just lay there for a bit. Even when they finally hauled themselves up and separated to their respective bedrooms, there was a cozy feeling through the whole apartment, like candlelight or the smell of food cooking, an intimacy like pulling off a heist, a glow that stayed warm in Hoseok’s chest as he drifted off to sleep.
It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning that it hit him: Yoongi and Namjoon and Jin were all dating, and that was what they should be feeling about each other, but Hoseok wasn’t dating any of them and it wasn’t appropriate. It just wasn’t his place to insinuate himself between them like that. So next time Jin pats the couch and Yoongi makes imploring eyes at Hoseok and Namjoon smiles that scrunched-up closed mouth smile in his direction Hoseok says, “it’s fine, sorry, I’ve got a ton of work to do, you guys.” He then scurries as quickly as he can scurry with his backpack on into his room and does the homework he needs to do and dicks around on the internet and tries not to think about that warm safe glow.
Hazy saxophone sounds echo down the hallway as Jimin and Jungkook walk towards Taehyung’s door. Their hands are laced together, and Jimin swings them back and forth in sync with their steps. Jungkook is feeling really content with life in general right now: he just got a really good grade on the latest test he took in his math-requirement calculus class, and he has two weeks until midterms. He’s finished a couple songs and he’s content with how they turned out. He’s going out dancing with Jimin and Taehyung tonight and he’s about ninety percent sure that they’re going to end up fucking in either a semi-public place or Taehyung’s shower before the end of the night. He’s been spending a lot of time with Jimin and Taehyung, in general, and while they do have a lot of sex, a lot of the time they just hang out and talk. Being around them is natural and wonderful.
Jungkook really likes the sex though, too. He’s really seriously contemplating upping the chances of exhibitionist stuff happening to ninety-nine percent.
“Impressive math skills,” Jimin says when Jungkook voices this thought out loud. “That calc class is paying off. What’s the chance that I’m going to blow you, because those pants , Jungkookie.”
“I’m thinking it sounds like maybe...seventy-five percent?” Jungkook says.
“It’s at least ninety,” Jimin says, raising his free hand to knock on Taehyung’s door.
“I don’t really know how probability works,” Jungkook says later, when they stumble out of the club into the street. “But since you sucked my dick, the probability of that happening is like, one-hundred percent, right?”
“I think, since it already happened, maybe probability isn’t a thing anymore?” Taehyung says.
“I’m too drunk for this shit,” Jimin says.
They’re clustered together, wandering aimlessly down the street. Jungkook’s just drunk enough that the streetlights and the neon signs they pass fill him with a beautiful aching sense of wonder that only gets bigger in his chest when Jimin lays a hand on the crook of his arm. Jungkook can see that Jimin’s got his other hand tucked into the back pocket of Taehyung’s pants, which are close enough to sweatpants that he shouldn’t look as hot as he does in them. Taehyung hums and mumble-sings under his breath, and Jimin laughs, carefree, and Jungkook wishes he had his camera with him so he could capture the way their smiles curve so happy and sweet and wonderful and hold it close forever. He thinks he could write a whole album of songs about this moment.
“You know,” Taehyung says, “there’s this song. Whenever I listen to it, I think of you. Both of you.”
“Yeah?” Jimin says.
“The touch of your lips,” Taehyung mumble-sings. “Your lips that are cool, and sweet…that’s how it goes. It’s by this guy named Chet Baker.”
Jungkook kind of knows who he is. Taehyung has a lot of records. Sometimes he plays them in the morning, when they’re all waking up slowly, enjoying the sun coming through the window and the smell of the mint and lavender plants. They always sound hazy and golden while they’re poking around in the kitchen for something to eat. They invariably just meander down the hall to break into the Lab for whatever Jin’s making for breakfast that morning or go to the corner store, but the mood the records leave lingers over them wherever they go.
“Such tenderness lies in their soft caress,” Taehyung sings, and Jimin hauls them to a stop.
“Taehyung,” he says. “Tae.”
“Yeah?” Taehyung says softly.
“Are we boyfriends?” Jimin says. “All of us?”
Taehyung blinks at them. Jungkook...he never really thought of that. He never really thought of that as something he could have. But now that Jimin’s said it, it hits him all at once, how bad he wants that, and his heart pounds.
Taehyung slides a hand down Jimin’s forearm, pulls Jimin’s hand out of his pocket and holds it tight. He reaches for Jungkook’s hand, still quiet, and Jungkook gives it to him, and the warm clasp of it is so good, the feeling of his skin against Taehyung’s.
“Yeah,” Taehyung says. “Yeah, I think we are. If that’s something all of you want.”
“I do,” Jimin says, almost fiercely. “I want it.”
“Jungkook?” Taehyung says. His eyes are so big and warm when they meet Jungkook’s, and Jungkook feels himself shivering, even though the night isn’t even cold.
“Yes,” Jungkook says. “Yes, yes, yes. Both of you.”
He says it so quick, and he feels his face get red as soon as the words are out of his mouth.
“My boyfriends,” Taehyung says, and his voice sounds kind of like it does when he hears a song he likes while they’re in a cafe, or when he finds a ladybug crawling in their bed, but even better.
“My boyfriends,” Jungkook says, and wraps his arms around both their shoulders and tries to lift them both off the ground. He’s pretty successful, if he does say so himself.
“Put me down, you muscle pig!” Jimin says, swatting at Jungkook’s arm, and Taehyung giggles, and Jungkook sets them down and they just sort of fold into each other, swaying in a knotted-together hug in the middle of the sidewalk.
There’s the far-away sound of pop music from a bar and the noise of people coming out of the noodle shop across the street. Jungkook buries his face in the space between Jimin and Taehyung’s shoulders.
“You know what?” Taehyung says.
“What?” Jimin says.
“This kind of feels like Christmas,” Taehyung mutters.
“You’re right,” Jungkook says.
“Hey,” Taehyung says. “Let’s go back to my place and dance to All I Want For Christmas is you until Mrs. Choi starts whacking on the ceiling with her cane.”
“That sounds awesome,” Jungkook says.
“Seconded,” Jimin says.
“Let’s go, then,” Taehyung says, and they walk, arms over each other’s shoulders, in a blissful Boyfriend Clump until they manage to get a taxi.
“If it’s that bad,” Momo says, “maybe you should think of moving out?”
“But like,” Hoseok says, shredding the styrofoam cup his coffee had been in, “it’s not that bad. You know?”
Momo shrugs. “Whatever you say, dude. You just sound shook up about it.”
Hoseok feels a little bad. He’s not that shook up about it, really. “Sorry,” he says. “I guess I just need to vent sometimes, and like. A lot of my other friends are good friends with Yoongi or Namjoon or Jin too, so I don’t want to put them in an awkward situation, you know? But I feel bad.”
“It’s fine,” Momo says. “You listened to me talk about Mina for ages and ages before we finally got together.”
It’s true, and Hoseok hadn’t minded at all. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, though,” Hoseok says. “How is Mina, anyways?”
Momo’s face lights up, and Hoseok is really glad that Momo and Mina are happy together now. She starts telling Hoseok a genuinely hilarious story about one of Mina’s professors that makes Hoseok laugh a little harder than is probably appropriate for the coffee shop, and Hoseok feels good when he’s riding the bus home. Jin texted him one of his trademark lovingly handmade memes, and Jimin texted him a picture of Yoongi sitting on Jungkook’s shoulders, taken at the exact moment that his dangling foot accidentally connects with Namjoon’s face.
human disasters he says by way of a caption.
this is a work of art , Hoseok replies.
When he gets back to the apartment, Jungkook and Jimin and Taehyung are all still there, sitting crosslegged on the ground in his bedroom playing Go Fish with two decks of Taehyung’s homemade tarot cards. Jungkook is shirtless. Jimin is thinking about taking his shirt off. Hoseok can tell.
“Hey, kids,” Hoseok says. “Don’t do anything you wouldn’t want me to see.”
“You’d love to see anything we do,” Taehyung says, and winks.
“You’re not wrong,” Hoseok says, and goes to knock on Namjoon’s door.
He’s barely raised a hand before he hears the quiet sound of Yoongi and Namjoon talking, and then Yoongi’s dry little chuckle. He feels like an intruder all of a sudden, like if he knocked on the door Yoongi and Namjoon would exchange a look like him again, interrupting us while we try to have private Yoongi-and-Namjoon-we-know-each-other-so-well-we-can-talk-with-just-our-eyes time. So Hoseok lowers his hand and dumps his bag in his room, sits on his bed watching Youtube videos on his phone while Taehyung and Jimin and Jungkook get progressively less clothed.
He’s glad they’re there. They’re giggly and sweet and next thing Hoseok knows he’s been drawn into whatever the hell they are doing. Girl group dances are involved, and Hoseok and Jungkook are embroiled in a dance-off when Namjoon pokes his head in and says, “oh, hell yes.” He joins them, which results in Hoseok is laughing so hard his stomach hurts because Namjoon is the worst dancer in the world. Taehyung and Jimin egg them on, while Yoongi leans against the doorframe with a funny little smile in the corners of his mouth.
“What the hell is going on here?” Jin calls, accompanied by the sound of the front door closing. “And hey, who wants to see the lizard I just bought?”
They all rush to see the lizard, of course. They are not disappointed. It is exactly as wonderful as expected, a chunky little leopard gecko that Jin has already named Banana. Later, watching Jin settle Banana in her tank, Hoseok thinks of Yoongi’s funny little smile. He thinks about it, and he realizes that he’s pretty sure it was directed towards him.
Hoseok files that away for the future, and thinks, maybe there are worse things than having crushes on your three best friends, watching Jin hold Banana so tenderly and carefully.
Jungkook’s never had a ton of friends. He’s always been quiet and sort of shrunk into himself, always felt like he was at the edges of any friend group he’d ever had. Taehyung has more friends than anyone Jungkook’s ever met, and he pulls Jungkook and Jimin into them like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Taehyung’s friends are in jazz bands or they do performance art or they work at a strip club or they are getting doctorates in sociological astrobiology, and they are funny and strange, just like Taehyung. Just like Taehyung, but never quite as wonderful as Taehyung.
He’s never had so much stuff to do, between going to parties and weird poetry readings and underground rap shows and spending time at the Genius Lab. At first, he goes everywhere Jimin and Taehyung go, but one day while he sits on the edge of Taehyung’s bathtub and watches Taehyung and Jimin putting on their makeup, he realizes he would really just like to spend the night alone and play some video games.
When he says this, Jimin and Taehyung both meet his eyes in the mirror.
“You need time by yourself, yeah?” Taehyung says.
Jungkook nods.
“I forget, sometimes, Jungkookie,” Jimin says.
“My little sister’s like that,” Taehyung says.
Jimin abandons his eyeliner to wrap Jungkook in a hug. He smells like leather and hairspray and Jungkook breathes him in deep. “I’m sorry, Jungkookie, I should’ve thought of that. Do you want us to drop you off at our place?” he says.
Jungkook shakes his head. “You two’re going to come back here after, right? Can I stay here?”
“Of course,” Taehyung says. “There’s snacks and stuff in the fridge. I think I have some of that banana milk you like.”
Jimin nuzzles his face into Jungkook’s neck and almost knocks them both into the bathtub.
“Hey! Don’t kill our dongsaeng!” Taehyung scolds. “We have to take care of him!”
“We do,” Jimin agrees.
After they leave, Jungkook locates the banana milk. He plays Overwatch for a little, and fills out a worksheet that’s due, and then starts the fencing sports anime that everyone’s been telling him he should watch. It’s nice, and it’s nice, too, when Jimin and Taehyung come back glittery-er and wilder than they had been when they left, their hands all over each other.
“Hey,” he says, says from the couch. “Hey, did you just forget about me, your dongsaeng?” he says, and makes sure he sounds just a little whiny.
“Of course not,” Jimin says, climbing into his lap.
“Never,” Taehyung agrees. “Let’s get him glittery in weird places.”
“No glitter in my ass,” Jungkook says. “That’s a ground rule.”
“That’s fair,” Taehyung says.
They muddle through midterms and come out pretty okay, Taehyung and Jungkook moreso than Jimin. Sometimes they all go dancing or to bookstores or to restaurants with strange names and stranger decors and sometimes they hang out at the Genius Lab.
Yoongi, Jin, Namjoon, and Hoseok always seem really glad to see them. When Jimin and Taehyung are there, it really brings out everyone’s loud sides, and they end up laughing until their sides hurt. When it’s just Jungkook, they’re a little quieter. Namjoon and Yoongi and Jin are quiet people by nature, maybe, and Hoseok has a subdued side that Jungkook didn’t notice at first. So when Jimin and Taehyung want to go somewhere loud and Jungkook feels like having a calmer sort of night out, he can go to the Genius Lab and be as quiet as he likes. It feel comfortable and relaxed and natural.
Nights like tonight, sitting in the corner of the kitchenette watching Jin fry beef with his big ruffly pink apron on, Jungkook thinks that he’s really lucky. Jimin’s been really into thinking about fate lately, probably because he and Taehyung have been reading up about astrology, not just the sun signs but houses and all the complicated stuff, and so the three of them have been talking about it a lot over coffee, and also sometimes when they were having sex, when Taehyung would blow a raspberry onto Jungkook’s stomach and Jimin would groan and say, “well, that’s just like a Capricorn," and then Taehyung would say, “Jiminie, that’s obviously my Aries moon.” It had Jungkook thinking, too. It was coincidence, really, that Jimin had finally decided to take the required Intro to Psychology class he’d been putting off the same semester and day and time as Jungkook. Getting to know Yoongi not just as some guy Jimin had hooked up with, as someone who seemed kind of cold and crabby, but as this weird warm dude who genuinely cared, a lot, about anyone who he’d taken under his wing. Meeting Taehyung, and Namjoon giving him one of the spare keys to the Genius Lab: everything that led him to where he is now, sitting in the corner, content, with the good smell of frying meat through the kitchen and the broad expanse of Jin’s back an invitation to harass him, was just pure dumb fate, probably.
All the deep thinking makes him hungry. Jungkook sneaks a chopstick into the pan and tries to stab a piece of meat.
“Can you shoo? Pest!” Jin says, swatting at Jungkook’s wrist with his wooden spoon.
Jungkook tries to tweak one of Jin’s nipples the same way that Jin always tweaks his. He doesn’t succeed,because Jin is too quick, but he does manage to leap sideways out of the way with his ill-gotten slightly-rare snack.
He spends a lot more time at the Genius Lab as the semester hurtles towards finals week. Jimin’s stressed: third-year criminology courses are no joke, and he doesn’t seem to particularly want Jungkook around the dorm room when he’s studying.
Jungkook doesn’t want to bother him. He knows he can be kind of clingy sometimes, and so he’s careful to give Jimin his space, sleeping over at the Genius Lab, or Tae’s. Lately, when he and Taehyung ask Jimin to come along, he usually says no, that he has to study. The few times he does, he’s quiet and sort of withdrawn.
“I wish I was smarter,” Tae says. “So I could help you study.” They’re all tangled together on an air mattress Taehyung’s been leaving in the living room of his apartment by the big sliding glass door that goes out into the tiny balcony so they can lie at night and see the lights of the city.
“You’re brilliant, Tae,” Jimin says. “You’re so clever, I wish I was clever like you,” and he strokes Taehyung’s hair and rubs his thumb back and forth across Jungkook’s thigh.
He sounds melancholy, and it’s like Jungkook and Taehyung can pass the thought between them, without even talking, that they’re worried about him.
It’s something they can do now, know what the other is thinking before anything’s even said. Jungkook’s gotten to know Taehyung better, spending lots of time with just him. Taehyung wears his heart on his sleeve, but there’s a lot going on in his head that he doesn’t really talk about, and a lot of things he wants to say that take him a while to be able to say. Jungkook hadn’t realized, or maybe had but hadn’t thought too much about it, that he didn’t really know Taehyung. Not like he knew Jimin. Taehyung and Jungkook hadn’t met that long ago, and where Jimin opens up so easy, trusts so quick, Jungkook can't do that, and apparently neither can Taehyung. It’s been really good to see Taehyung beyond his crystals and his weird clothes and his quick smile, to see the places in him that hurt and that he thinks are lacking and ugly, and it’s been hard, but really good, too, to let Taehyung see where those same places were in Jungkook.
They’ve built something between the two of them, now, and that thing they built is what lets them reach a wordless consensus to bracket Jimin between them and kiss him and touch him and help him feel good, even if it’s only for a little while.
Jimin holds onto them so tight, and they clean him up before they go to sleep so carefully, and Jungkook hopes Jimin knows. He can’t tell from Jimin’s face, but his whole body looks limp and relaxed, finally, as they all curl close to each other and fall asleep easy. Jimin stays relaxed like that through the night and into the next morning, when he wakes up and bolts out for class, a line between his eyebrows, apologizing and harried.
Jungkook doesn’t have class until the afternoon, and so he and Taehyung wander to the Genius Lab. Yoongi and Jin are on the couch, Yoongi on his laptop and Jin on his phone but their ankles twined together.
Jungkook and Taehyung settle on the couch next to them, Taehyung pulling a sketchbook out of one of his big pants pockets, and Jungkook pulling out his own phone.
They’re all sitting like that, quietly together, when Hoseok comes back.
“Hey, Hobi!” Jin says.
“Ho-o-ope!” Yoongi screeches. “Come sit with us.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Hoseok says, slinging his backpack onto the crook of one arm and holding it in front of his body like it’s a shield. “I’ve got a shitton of stuff due, I gotta. Go work on it.”
He hurries to his room, head down like he’s walking in a rainstorm.
“What’s up with him?” Taehyung says.
“I don’t know,” Yoongi says. He sounds legitimately upset.
“Finals week is crazy,” Jin says. “Especially when you’re a senior. It’s probably just getting to him.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi says, but he doesn’t sound particularly convinced.
Jungkook and Taehyung exchange glances, thinking of Jimin.
“Want to go get lunch or something?” Taehyung says. “Maybe Jimin could meet us.”
“Yeah, there’s a couple hours between when my class ends and his starts,” Jungkook says.
“I’m in,” Jin says.
“Sounds good,” Yoongi says. “Should I ask Hobi?”
“You can,” Jin says. “I don’t think he’s going to say yes, though.”
He doesn’t, and neither does Jimin.
“He’s really stressed, huh?” Yoongi says.
“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs.
They go and get noodles with just Yoongi and Jin, and then Jungkook heads off to class, Taehyung’s shrimp-and-coca-cola-tasting goodbye kiss still warm on his lips. Jungkook tries to concentrate, but he keeps missing sentences the professor says, and so his notes are a mess.
After class, he goes back to the dorm room. Jimin is hunched over his desk, headphones on. He barely looks up when Jungkook comes in, and when he does, he looks startled.
“Oh,” he says, sliding his headphones around his neck. “Hey. I thought you’d be spending the night at Tae’s,” he says.
Jungkook suddenly feels more like a kid barging into his hyung’s room than someone coming back to the room he shares with his boyfriend. “I don’t know,” he says, dumping his backpack on the bed. “I just.” He wants to say, I missed you , but it doesn’t feel right or easy to say right now, and so he just says, “my stuff’s here.”
“Oh,” Jimin says, sliding his headphones back on, and something about the way he does it makes Jungkook hot and angry.
He wants to say something mean back, all of a sudden, but Jimin’s not even paying any attention to him. Jungkook feels like he could scream. He just really, really, does not want to be here anymore. He picks his backpack up again, and Jimin turns around in his chair.
“Where’re you going?” he says.
“I don’t know,” Jungkook snaps. “Maybe to Tae’s place, because you clearly don’t want me here!”
Jimin’s quiet for a second. “If you don’t want to be around me, just say so,” he says, voice sore and wet.
“ I don’t want to be around you ?” Jungkook says. “Jesus.” He’s literally seeing red, and he’s not even sure why. “I’ll be back,” he snaps, and leaves.
He’s frustrated and upset and kind of teary. He’s not sure where he wants to go, so he ends up just getting on the first bus he can catch.
hey whats up r u ok??? Taehyung texts him. jiminie just texted me did u 2 get in2 a fight??
yeah, i was being an asshole, Jungkook replies. idk
we should all probably talk Taehyung texts back.
yeah Jungkook says.
your guys place or mine?
yours, i guess, Jungkook replies, realizing that the bus is heading that way anyways.
okay Taehyung replies, and then a few seconds later, texts a string of heart emojis.
When Jungkook gets to Taehyung’s apartment, it looks like he’s done some nervous cleaning, and he’s also got a kettle on the stovetop.
“Do you want hot chocolate or tea or something?” Taehyung says.
“I kind of just want you to pour boiling water on my head,” Jungkook says. “Don’t actually, though.”
“I wasn’t even considering it,” Taehyung says.
“I feel like an asshole,” Jungkook says.
“Don’t,” Taehyung says. “It’s just going to make it harder to talk about it.”
“I can’t really help it,” Jungkook says.
“Yeah,” Taehyung says. “I know.”
Jimin looks pale and peaked when he shows up. His nose is kind of red, like he’s maybe trying not to cry.
“I’m really sorry,” he says, at the same time Jungkook says, “I was being a jerk.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Jungkook says.
“You weren’t,” Jimin says.
“Uh. Want any tea?” Taehyung says.
“No,” Jimin says. “No, thank you.” He runs his hand through his hair so that it all sticks up and then flops down, and Jungkook suddenly just wants to squeeze him tight.
He sneaks a glance Taehyung’s way, and he sees the same feeling on Taehyung’s face.
“What’s wrong, Jiminie?” Taehyung says.
Jimin makes a frustrated little noise. “I don’t know. It’s just like, you two, just now. The way you look at each other. It’s hard.”
He doesn’t say it like he wants a reply. He says it like he wants to get it out, and so Jungkook lets him keep talking.
“It’s like,” Jimin says. “I just love both of you so much. And I say it all the time, and I know I always say that shit too fast, and like, too often, and it freaks people out.”
“It doesn’t freak me out, Jimin,” Taehyung says.
“Yeah,” Jimin says. “But it’s still too much, I know it is.”
“It’s not too much,” Taehyung says.
“It is, ” Jimin says, flaring up, face getting red. “You don’t go around saying stupid mushy stuff. Neither does Jungkook. It’s just me. You and him...you’re good together. You don’t need to say I love you all the time, you don’t need to hear it all the time. It’s annoying, all I want to do is talk about my feelings, and I just have them all the time. I hate it.”
Jungkook’s whole entire heart aches. It’s horrible to see Jimin hurt, to see Jimin, who is always so caring and wonderful and bighearted, talk about himself like that, to know that Jimin was hurting and decided to just shove it down because he really thought it would be a burden to them.
“I guess people don’t realize this, but I’m really shy. I’ve never had so many friends before,” Jimin says, and he’s crying, not big sobs but wet eyes overflowing. “I’m not good at this. I’m scared. I’m so scared. This has been so good, and I love both of you so much, but you’d both be better off without me.”
Jungkook realizes he’s crying, too, his eyes stinging.
“Don’t say that,” Taehyung says, fiercely. “Don’t say that. We’re so good because it’s all three of us, together. Do you know how much we’ve missed you, how much we’ve talked about you?”
“I don’t know,” Jimin says, and he’s crying for real now, and so is Taehyung.
“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook says again, and he’s opening up his arms and Jimin’s rushing into them, grabbing Taehyung by the arm and pulling him close, too.
“I’m sorry, too, Jiminie,” Taehyung says, voice thick. “It’s. It’s hard for me to say how much I love the people I really love. I don’t know why. I wish I could say it like you do. I love that about you so much.”
“That’s okay,” Jimin mumbles into Jungkook’s shirt.
“I really am sorry,” Jungkook mumbled back.
“I know,” Jimin says. “I’m sorry, too. I should’ve talked to you two.”
“I’m going to get a shirt that says in big rainbow letters, I love Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook very much,” Taehyung says.
“You’re ridiculous,” Jimin says.
“Dumb,” Jungkook says.
“Do you guys want tea or hot chocolate now?” Taehyung says.
“For sure,” Jimin says.
“Hot chocolate, please,” Jungkook says.
“A baby,” Jimin says.
They all laugh when Jimin unsticks himself from Jungkook and the Jimin-face-shaped smudge of tears and snot and chapstick on Jungkook’s white shirt is revealed. When they settle down, they all sit and watch TV and drink hot drinks until it starts getting dark out. Jungkook and Taehyung quiz Jimin with the human anatomy flashcards he’s been carrying around in his pocket. Jimin knows almost all of them, Jungkook and Taehyung’s constant jokes about certain details of human anatomy barely even distracting him. Before Jimin and Jungkook leave to go back to their dorm room, Taehyung gives them both deep lingering kisses and also grabs both their asses a few times.
“You’re going to do so well in all of your finals,” Jungkook says, as they swing their joined hands back and forth in the elevator.
“I hope so,” Jimin says.
“I love you,” Jungkook adds.
Jimin ducks his head and blushes pink. “I love you, too.”
Hoseok is starting to seriously reconsider what he’d said to Momo about not wanting to move out. It’s not that he wants to move out, but increasingly he’s not really sure what to do. Just ignoring it, trying to be levelheaded, clearly isn’t working.
He can barely look any of them in the face, and he spends a lot of time shut up in his room, which is an absolutely miserable way to be. He’s used to all of them being in each other’s business all the time, always talking and hanging out and making art together. He misses his friends.
They know something’s wrong too: Jin makes him his favorite meals, and Yoongi keeps leaving snacks and water bottles outside of Hoseok’s closed door. It’s so nice that it only makes Hoseok feel worse. It’s the thick of finals week when Namjoon wanders into the kitchen while Hoseok’s cleaning the grounds out of the coffeemaker.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, besides, like. In class,” he says. It’s kind of pointed. Hoseok deserves it.
“Finals week,” Hoseok says. “You know.”
And Namjoon does know, because he’s a senior, just like Hoseok, and they’re in a lot of same classes. That’s probably why he levels a look at Hoseok, a look that says, yeah, you’re full of shit.
“Namjoon,” Hoseok says.
“I miss you,” Namjoon says. “Hobi, you’re my best friend. I miss you.”
Hoseok has to blink back stupid tears into the sink.
“Hobi,” Namjoon says, so soft and tender that Hoseok can’t take it.
“Namjoon,” Hoseok pleads. “After finals week?”
Namjoon sighs. “Okay,” he says. “After finals week.”
Hoseok and Namjoon both scrape through the end of the semester somehow. Jin aw-w-ws over them, recalls his old finals week horror stories in a tone even more auntie-ish than his usual and makes them all hold Banana. “Like how they sometimes have those therapy dogs come visit, but a therapy lizard,” he says.
“Thank you for being a coping mechanism, Banana,” Namjoon says very solemnly, cradling her gingerly in his big hands.
Yoongi talks them both down from scrapping whole songs about ten times each. It’s like he has a sixth sense for when Hoseok is starting to wig out, banging on Hoseok’s door and yelling, “they’re fine, you numbskull!” just when Hoseok starts thinking about throwing his computer out the window.
After Hoseok turns in his last project, he naps for eleven hours straight. He’s so hungry that his stomach growling wakes him up, and so he wraps his blanket around his shoulders and pads out of his room.
He opens the refrigerator, blinks into the bright yellow light. The sound summons Jin, who pokes his head around the corner and says, “let me make you dinner, Hobi.”
“It’s fine, Jin-hyung,” Hoseok says.
“Let me rephrase that,” Jin says. “You’ve worked hard. Sit down, I’m making you dinner.”
Hoseok’s not going to argue. He sits down on the counter as commanded. Jin rolls up his sleeves and starts rummaging in the fridge, humming to himself. Hoseok swings his feet back and forth and listens. He feels really loved, and for once he doesn’t feel bad about it. He feels like all the affection he feels for Jin right now is being returned, gladly and freely, especially when Jin looks up from scrubbing a squash in the sink and smiles at Hoseok.
“Girthy,” Yoongi says, coming up from behind Jin and leaning off one of his shoulders, pointing at the squash in Jin’s hand.
“You’re a menace,” Jin says. “You’re terrible. Be useful and get out the rice cooker, won’t you?”
“Sure,” Yoongi says.
The rice cooker lives in the cabinet right under the section of countertop Hoseok is sitting on. “Sorry,” Hoseok says, and moves to hop off, but Yoongi sets a hand on each of Hoseok’s thighs and holds him in place, kneels down in front of him.
“It’s fine,” Yoongi says. His face is right there, right in front of Hoseok’s crotch, and Hoseok is trying so hard to play it cool, but Yoongi’s fingers tighten above his kneecaps and then Yoongi looks up and smirks, his tongue poking out and swiping quickly at his bottom lip.
Hoseok jerks back like he’d been burned.
“Yoongi!” Jin hisses, and Hoseok feels a burst of pain as the back of his head connects with the hood of the stovetop.
“Fuck,” he says. He brings his hand to touch where it hurts, and it comes back covering in blood. “Fuck,” he curses again. He feels dizzy. He hates blood so much.
“It’s fine,” Jin says, manhandling Hoseok into a chair and pressing a paper towel to the cut. “Lemme see. It’s not even that big, you’ll be fine.”
Yoongi’s on his feet now, hovering nervously behind Jin. “I’m sorry, Hobi,” he says, reaching for Hoseok’s hand.
“What happened?” Namjoon says from the doorway.
“Hobi cut his head, but it’s okay,” Jin says. “It’s just a little cut.”
“It was my fault,” Yoongi offers.
“And you call me a walking disaster,” Namjoon says, crouching next to Hoseok. “Hey, are you okay?” he says, reaching for Hoseok’s cheek so tenderly. That, combined with the pain and adrenaline, makes Hoseok feel like bursting into tears.
“Joonie,” Hoseok says. “You know how I said we’d talk after finals week?”
“Uh,” Namjoon says.
“It’s after finals week,” Hoseok says.
“But you’re bleeding,” Namjoon says.
“I don’t care!” Hoseok says. He sounds like a crazy person, but Namjoon, just like always, accepts that.
“Okay,” he says. “I think we all need to talk. Let’s all sit down.”
“You should probably like. Have something to hold over your bleeding head wound,” Yoongi says.
“Who’s fault is the bleeding head wound?” Jin says. “But he’s right. You can’t bleed all over the couch.”
“There are five million holes in the couch,” Yoongi says.
“It’s still my couch,” Jin says, and hands Hoseok a whole roll of paper towels.
They all sit down, Hoseok and Jin at opposite ends of the couch, Yoongi slouched in the big old recliner chair that is probably just a gigantic spider nest at this point, Namjoon cross-legged on the floor.
“We kind of have a lot to talk about,” Hoseok says.
“Okay,” Namjoon says. “Where do you want to start.”
“I don’t know,” Hoseok says. “But for one thing, I think all of you probably already know this, because I’m pathetic, but I have a crush on, like, all of you. Jesus.”
“Oh,” Namjoon says.
“Oh? What do you mean, ‘oh,’ Namjoon?” Yoongi says. “No offense, Hope, but your crushes have been visible from space.”
“I know,” Hoseok says.
“That’s not a bad thing,” Jin says, gently. “But yeah, I mean. I might’ve noticed.”
“I guess I never,” Namjoon says, and trails off. “Yeah, I noticed that you had something going on with Yoongi and Jin. I didn’t think though...I don’t know. Why would you have a crush on me?”
They all shout at once.
“Why? Why not, you hot, stupid bastard?” Yoongi says.
“Namjoon, why do you always act like you’re still the awkward nerd you were in high school?” Jin says.
“I don’t know!” Hoseok groans. “You’re so nice and smart, and your hands are so nice, and you always listen to me, and. I don’t know. You’re just you.”
“Oh,” Namjoon says.
“I’m not telling you this because I think you’re going to like me back,” Hoseok says. “But I’m kind of in love with you, and it’s been making me act weird around you, and I’m trying to stop, I promise.”
“Hobi,” Namjoon says. “You don’t have to stop.”
Hoseok had been gearing up to make more promises, to lay out how they could proceed with their friendship intact, because that’s The Most Important Thing. This stops him in his tracks. “What do you mean?” he says.
“You don’t have to stop,” Namjoon says. “I just. Never thought you’d like me like that. I’ve had a crush on you since we met, Jesus. For the longest time.”
“What?” Hoseok says.
“He was the one who opened my eyes and pointed out how cute you were,” Jin says. “It tormented me from that day on.”
“You,” Hoseok says, rounding on Jin. “I knew you liked me, too. I just knew it!”
“I was hoping you’d catch on,” Jin says.
“I wasn’t sure,” Hoseok says. “You’re already dating two people. I just wasn’t sure.”
“Please,” Jin says. “I have a lot of love in my heart to give?”
“Well, I don't,” Yoongi says, sprawling back in the chair. “The only things I have to give are my dick and my ass.”
They all sit quiet for a few seconds.
“Uh, yeah, you’ve been pretty obvious about that,” Namjoon says.
“Kind of,” Hoseok says. “Also, I don't think that's really true.”
“Why wouldn’t it be true?” Yoongi says.
“I think…” Hoseok says, takes a deep breath. His heart is kind of pounding and it feels terrible and wonderful. “I think. I think you love me.”
Yoongi’s sitting there with his arms crossed. “What makes you think that?” he says. And maybe it’s because he looks so blustery and funny that Hoseok doesn’t even feel nervous.
“For one thing,” Hoseok says. “You sleep in my bed. Like a lot. Even when you could sleep in your bed, which is yours.”
“That’s true,” Namjoon says.
“You can be quiet,” Yoongi says. “Anyways, that proves nothing.”
“Okay,” Hoseok says. “How about this. The other day, when you gave me your whole Americano. The whole thing.”
“You looked tired,” Yoongi says. “I didn’t want it anyways. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. I couldn’t take any more caffeination.”
“You couldn’t take any more caffeination,” Jin mimics.
“Fuck off,” Yoongi grumbles. “Okay, then, Hobi, explain to me why you drank the whole thing when you don’t even like Americanos?”
“I don’t mind them,” Hoseok says.
“Pretty funny, considering that you’ve called me a “troll,” an “ogre,” and “a bitter little stick of a human” for getting them in past,” Yoongi says. “Not that any of that isn’t true, but.”
“Fine,” Hoseok says. “You know what? Maybe I’m kind of in love with you. And I’m sorry, it just kind of happened.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi says, softly. “I know. I know what that’s like.”
“So you’re saying…” Hoseok says.
“Yeah,” Yoongi says, nodding, and Hoseok just wants to jump on top of him and squeeze him tight.
So he does.
“Don’t bleed on me! You fuckin’ bonebag,” Yoongi mumbles, but he doesn’t try to push Hoseok away. If anything, he holds him closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. “A bonebag who I love. You’re better than Namjoon, I’ll give you that.”
“Hey!” Namjoon says, indignant.
“Come here, you big cheeto-breathing weirdo,” Yoongi says.
Namjoon is extremely bony, and when Jin joins in on their pile, Namjoon’s knee, or maybe his elbow or his hipbone, gets shoved into Hoseok’s ribs, but once they all settle in and start to get absorbed into the couch cushions, it’s warm and good. Hoseok sighs deep and lets that glow shine calm and bright through his chest.
“Eagles are flying, over!” Taehyung hisses into his phone.
“I already knew that,” Jin hisses back. “Yoongi texted me ten minutes ago when they left the apartment. Also, I'm standing right next to you, why did you call me?”
Jin is a little wound up. Jungkook’s been privy to a lot of conversations between Yoongi and Jin discussing how to celebrate Namjoon and Hoseok’s graduation.
“We can't have it here,” Jin had said. “All of Hoseok’s lesbian friends are too loud and numerous.”
“True,” Yoongi had said. “Besides, it’s going to be hard to set up with them underfoot if we want it to stay a surprise. Namjoon’s oblivious, but not that oblivious.”
In the end, they'd settled on having the party in a park not far from the Genius Lab. They weren’t doing anything fancy, and they weren’t having a ton of people, but Jin was still stressed about pulling it off, and so Jungkook and Taehyung have decided to take it upon themselves to lighten him up at every opportunity.
Really, there’s no need for Jin to worry at this point. The picnic blankets are spread with food and guarded by Hoseok’s loud and numerous lesbian friends and Namjoon’s quieter group, all of whom are either rappers, aspiring rappers, or grad students. The weather is lovely, clear and cool, and honestly, Namjoon and Hoseok will love any party Jin throws for them, even if it was in, like, a warehouse or a basement or one of those weird-smelling rooms they had for rent at the school rec center.
“Yoongi just texted,” Jimin calls, jogging up to them. “They just pulled in.”
“Oh my god,” Jin says.
“Chill,” Jungkook says.
“Eagles. Are. Flying!” Taehyung says, with increased urgency.
“You wench ,” Jin says, but he’s drowned out by the sound of Hoseok screaming as soon as he mounts the top of the slope that hides the parking lot from view of the park and sees what's going on.
“Is this a party?” Namjoon says.
Hoseok clobbers them all in breathless squeezy hugs, still screeching, and runs towards his lesbian friends, hair flopping and t-shirt streaming behind him.
“Of course it is, you idiot,”’ Yoongi says, grinning his weird turtleish grin.
“You finally got here,” Jin sighs, like he wasn’t running around like a chicken with his head cut off trying to get everything ready in time. “I’m starving to death.”
“Sure,” Namjoon says doubtfully. He's right to be doubtful: Jin has sampled every one of the snacks once, if not twice.
“Yah! Respect your elders!” Jin says, while Yoongi takes one of Jin’s hands and one of Namjoon’s and laces them together.
Jimin holds out his own hands, looks between Jungkook and Taehyung with a smile. Jungkook grins back, feeling settled and full, even though he hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast and is kind of hungry.
“Next time,” Taehyung says, “can I walk in the middle? I miss Jungkookie.”
“Yes,” Jungkook says.
They all wander down to the picnic blankets and eat until they can’t eat anymore.
Afterwards, when they’re all sprawled out in the grass basking in the sun, listening to Namjoon and his friends bicker about philosophy and Nas albums and Hoseok’s friends scream about a ladybug they’ve found, Taehyung says, “hey, let’s go feed the swans some of these cupcakes.”
“Don’t,” Jin says.
“Swans are mean fuckers,” Yoongi says.
“I was thinking about how I didn’t make those cupcakes for birds, but that too,” Jin says.
“You love birds,” Yoongi says. “You keep googling stuff about cockatoos and telling me random cockatoo facts in the morning.”
“I thought you were asleep!” Jin says, aggrieved.
Yoongi shrugs, face scrunched into a self satisfied smirk.
“Let’s just go look at the swans from a distance, then,” Taehyung amends, and so they do. There’s not so much breeze that their plates and napkins had been getting blown away, but there’s enough that the trees sway, making the dapples of sunlight on the ground shift and shimmer. The water glints, and the swans glide graceful and aloof. Their eyes are kind of beady, if Jungkook’s being honest. He sees their potential for evil.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says, as they all stand in the sun and watch the swans.
“About what?” Taehyung says.
“I don’t know. I guess mostly about, like, luck.”
Taehyung swings their hands back and forth. Jimin hums encouragingly. “It’s like,” Jungkook starts. “What if I hadn’t met either of you? Or if I never met Yoongi and Namjoon and Hoseok, and I was just trying to make music myself. Or maybe not making music at all. Thinking about that, like, doesn’t even make any sense, really. I mean, I don’t make any sense right now, either.”
“No, no, I get what you’re saying!” Taehyung says. “Dumb luck or fate, right?”
“Maybe a little of both?” Jimin says.
“I think so,” Jungkook says.
“Either way,” Taehyung says. “It’s good. We’re all really lucky. And fate’s been nice to us.”
Jimin raises his free hand, waves at the bright blue sky and the rippling water and the swans and the sun and the breeze and the strong flowering trees. “Thank you, universe! Thank you, mighty cosmos!” he calls.
Taehyung swings their hands back and forth as he laughs. Jungkook imagines all the happy in them is spilling out, making the grass they’re standing on grow strong and the whole world look a little more lovely and gold.
“I want to find one of those pink flowers and put it in my hair and ask Namjoon how I look and see if I can make him blush,” Jimin says.
“Lead the way,” Jungkook says, and they walk hand in hand towards the pink-flowering tree Jimin has his eye on, the breeze in their hair.