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“I want to see you all do four more muscle snaps before the end of practice! Looking at you especially, Jeon!”
The booming voice of Coach Kang causes Jungkook to choke on the mouthful of water he was enjoying. Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he checks his watch. He has thirteen minutes until the end of practice, and he still has two minutes rest left from his last rep. In a perfect world, it takes about thirty seconds to carry out a muscle snap, and then three minutes of rest, so technically he does have enough time to carry out four more reps and his coach knows that. Coach Kang also knows that Jungkook’s teammates are notorious for bending their training just slightly that they can get away with an extra thirty seconds of rest, which means that realistically, he will probably take closer to fifteen minutes.
Jungkook is fine with cleaning up the gym afterwards. He might as well start volunteering at this point, since he and two other teammates often end up the last ones to finish their sets and getting punished accordingly. Shin Hoseok is pretty much in love with training, and Kang Daniel is a hard worker, currently training to up his weight class. Jungkook prefers quality over quantity, or so he tells himself. His next tournament is not too far off, so he should actually probably be trying to pick up the pace.
Nodding at his coach’s words, he heads over to his gym bag to check his phone. There’s a message from Jimin, sent just minutes before his last rep.
Jungkookie~ hope you haven’t forgotten about the game tonight !!
Game???? He replies. I’m still at practice.
Jimin’s reply is immediate.
You fool! the basketball game! SKKU is playing us tonight and seokie’s friend is playing for them tonight, he wants to introduce us to him
Oh. What time? I’ll need to go back to the dorm since I didn’t bring clothes because I forgot lol
I repeat: you fool !! game’s at 7:30
He finishes at seven tonight, so the turn around would be tight, unless he has to clean up, in which case, he would definitely be late. He tells Jimin so.
Then make sure you don’t have to clean up !! I don’t want to be the only one not knowing what’s going on while seok is cheering beside me !!
Rolling his eyes, Jungkook leaves his friend on read and gets back to lifting. He’s starting to feel the fatigue kick in as it usually does, and if it were anyone else, he would have bailed. But Jimin is one of his best friends and his boyfriend Hoseok is also one of his close friends now, so he’ll make an exception for them. He knows next to nothing about basketball but if Jimin is just as clueless as he is, it’ll probably be entertaining. Mostly because his boyfriend has the most shrill, hyped up cheering voice he as ever heard, so to see Jimin dying of embarrassment when attention is inevitably drawn to them definitely wins him over.
Jimin’s at the same university as Jungkook, both of them students of Korea National Sport University. Jimin’s not a weightlifter like Jungkook, but a rhythmic gymnast. He’s the only male in his department, the jewel in their crown, and has been the nation’s representative in several competitions in Japan. He’d met his boyfriend, Hoseok, at a local tournament in Seoul. With Hoseok being a dancer himself, at the Korea National University of Arts no less, they had bonded very easily in their similar passions.
It takes a little extra effort, but Jungkook finishes on time, slightly sweaty and aching, but satisfied. He replaces the weights he used, cleaning them off quickly before bidding Daniel and Hoseok goodbye, apologising that they won’t be able to gossip about the other members with him tonight. Heading out with a smile, he rushes back to his dorm, showering quickly and throwing on something nicer than his usual white shirt and loose jeans. He settles for an all-black ensemble, his snug t-shirt tucked into even tighter jeans, chelsea boots, all topped off with his leather jacket and a black cap to cover his unwashed hair. Since a lot of people will be there, he might as well make a bit of an effort.
And if he sprays a little Victoria’s Secret on him here and there, that’s between him and Victoria.
Just making it to the sports hall just in time for tip-off, Jungkook heads up through the stands to where Jimin had messaged he would be. As he does the customary awkward shuffle past spectators in the row, he misses the ball as it gets thrown into the air and the crowd erupts around him. KNSU must have got the ball, it seems. He eventually gets to his two friends, who greet him both enthusiastically.
Both boys are also dressed a little nicer than usual. Jimin’s in a black silk bomber with red sleeves and accents, with a black v-neck, black, ripped jeans, black Nike trainers, and as he waves Jungkook can see silver rings on nearly all his fingers. His black hair is artfully dishevelled, probably a mix of product and his habit of running his hand through it. Hoseok seems to have foregone a jacket, also fitting the all-black theme of black-and-white patterned shirt, ripped jeans and, unfortunately, his Balenciaga sneakers. He too has a cap on over his red hair. Jungkook snorts at their co-ordination.
“Hi Jungko- GO, GO, PASS TO NUMBER THREE! NUMBER THREE!” is Hoseok’s warm welcome. He takes a short break from jumping and squawking to wrap an arm around the younger, asking how his favourite dongsaeng is, which in turn causes his boyfriend to squawk.
“I thought I was your favourite dongsaeng,” Jimin pouts, eyes flickering to the court to stare dramatically as Hoseok coos at him placatingly, before he breaks out into a wide smile. “Anyway, how is my favourite dongsaeng?
“Meh,” he shrugs, “tired from training as usual. Kind of sad I didn’t get to eat my PB weight in food after training.”
“Boo hoo, when did you last eat?” Jimin laughs. “I swear you’re always eating.”
“Probably about ten minutes before training, which is too long ago,” Jungkook rubs his tummy, pretending that it’s shrivelling up. “I normally pack a snack bar in my jacket pocket but I haven’t worn this in like over a week so- wait -”
“You didn’t.” Jimin deadpans, watching as Jungkook pats his jacket, feeling up the pockets until-
“Yes I did,” he sing-songs, pulling out a slightly crushed muesli bar and pumping his fist. “Thank you, JK of the past. I’m so glad I have my own back.”
Hoseok gives a little cackle and there’s a snort from Jimin as they watch him tear into the snack, before Hoseok resumes hooting at the court and come on, ref, that was definitely a foul!
“Hoseok-hyung, who are we even supporting today? Which one is your friend?” Jungkook asks around a mouthful of hardened yoghurt and muesli.
“We, Kookoo-ah, are supporting our home team unless we want to get shunned by our peers,” Jimin firmly pats him on the back as he calls him the nickname he gave Jungkook when they were children. “Hyung’s friend plays for Sungkyunkwan, right, Seokie?”
At his boyfriend’s question, Hoseok nods, keeping his eyes on his friend down on the court. “Yoongi-hyung doesn’t actually go to Sungkyunkwan, but he has friends there who he played with back in his hometown, Daegu. They got scouted in high school and even though hyung is at a different university,” he pauses to whoop as the other team gain possession of the ball before continuing, “there has been a special agreement to let him play for SKKU since our university doesn’t have a varsity team.”
“Wow, so your friend is that good?” Jimin sounds impressed, as Jungkook also feels. “Which one is he, then?”
“Number three,” Hoseok says, which explains his yelling earlier. “The short guy with the blonde hair.”
For once, Jungkook is immensely glad he bothered to put his contacts in, since his glasses degrees are slightly less powerful and he only really uses them when he’s feeling lazy. With them in, he can see each player properly, and he hones in on jersey number 3, with the capitalised MIN printed in stark white on navy blue. He only gets a brief glimpse of the side of his face as they’re headed up the opposite end of the court, and nearly goes deaf in his left ear as Yoongi gets the ball and Hoseok promptly begins cheering much louder.
The guy swiftly evades three of the home team’s players, using his slightly smaller height to his advantage and darting around and under the basket to lay the ball up on the opposite side. The ball lands in the hoop and the other end of the court goes wild with applause and chanting.
Hoseok is going all-out, hollering for his friend, jumping up and down and waving his arms. Out of seemingly nowhere, there is a ratchet noisemaker in one of his hands, and he spins it with all his might, repeating “MIN YOONGI!” over and over. Jungkook looks past him to Jimin on his other side, who is sat on the edge of his seat, slumped back with a hand over his face as he laughs at his boyfriend. As expected, they are surrounded by their fellow students, so people look surprised to see such a commotion for the other team, but also just as amused as he is. It’s hard to hate Hoseok’s brand of enthusiasm.
Looking back at the court, the SKKU team has now come back to their side as the home team takes them on offensively. From where they’re positioned, Jungkook can see Yoongi’s side profile as he takes on the player with the ball. It’s a decent profile, not out of the ordinary, but Jungkook is aware that all of Hoseok’s friends happen to be good-looking, which makes him feel flattered somewhat.
KNSU makes a powerful attempt at the basket, before the guy Yoongi was marking dribbles back behind the three-point line and makes a shot. It swishes in cleanly, and on instinct, Jungkook finds himself celebrating with the crowd. Everyone around him is buzzing and praising the player, but Jungkook watches as Hoseok’s friend turns and gets a full view of his face as he snarls a little at his misjudgement.
Oh no, he’s hot!
Jungkook almost misses that the guy actually looks up at them for a second, and he wonders if he could hear his thoughts somehow. The reality is that Hoseok is still cheering Yoongi on, saying he’ll get the other player next time, and Yoongi waves at his friend and rolls his eyes, smiling. The smile drops right off his face a beat later, which hardens in a focused expression as he receives the ball and brings it up court. Jungkook’s stomach swoops a little.
The game carries on in a similar manner. The score is kept close by both teams, Jungkook cheers for KNSU, and regularly has to tell his mind and body to chill the fuck out every time Min Yoongi steals the ball, skillfully dribbles and evades the other team, or makes a shot effortlessly. In the final minute, the score is at 117-115, with Jungkook’s university leading.
Yoongi looks tired. He had only substituted off the court a few times in the four quarters, assisting baskets as much as he was scoring them, clearly one of the strongest links in their team. As of the last five minutes, he’s been playing much more defensively, and Jungkook notices that he’s been rubbing his thighs a lot more as he readies himself to defend the ball. He wonders if they hurt a lot, they’re probably not even half the size of Jungkook’s (not that he’s looking) and yet they’ve carried him for nearly the entire game.
With sixty seconds to spare, Yoongi’s team makes the most of their possession of the ball and manages to score another shot, equalising the score. The cheering seems endless, as both sides of the court become desperate for a win, and it becomes impossibly louder as the home team manage to lob the ball down the court incredibly fast and get two points ahead. Jimin and Hoseok are both cheering for the other team, the former having taken on the latter’s spirit and supporting his friend instead.
Fifteen seconds left on the clock. Jungkook’s university are relentless on defence, hounding each player of the opposing team one-on-one, barely letting them get the ball into the other half of the court. Jungkook can see Yoongi frantically trying to get himself into space, can hear incoherent yelling from his other teammates as they do the same. Seven seconds are left.
Yoongi slaps his thighs and bolts over the half-court line, getting ahead enough to receive a pass just outside of the centre circle. The crowd start counting down from five - four -
The ball is in the air.
Three. Two-
The crowd never gets to one .
A swish of a net. The clock runs out.
Then the entire place erupts with sound.
HOME 119-120 AWAY
Jungkook stares at the scoreboard, open-mouthed, before snapping out of it and joining Hoseok and Jimin, with their arms around each other’s shoulder, as they jump up and down. They sing along as the whole hall begins chanting MIN YOONGI, in awe of the player’s remarkable shot. Hoseok is the loudest, of course, somehow managing to spin the noisemaker even with an arm on each of Jimin and Jungkook’s shoulders.
The noise dies down after about a minute, and then they head out with the rest of the crowd. As expected after such a big game, there is massive traffic as everyone makes their way through, so it takes a while before they’re out and in the car park, getting into Hoseok’s navy blue 2010 Hyundai Elantra. They chat while waiting for all the other cars to slowly filter out.
“Wow! That was an intense game.” It’s a wonder that Hoseok hasn’t lost his voice with the amount he was screaming earlier.
“I have to say, for someone who knew virtually nothing before the game started, I feel educated now. And honestly, I’m pretty impressed. The guys on our team can be dicks, but they played well, I think.”
“You’ve literally only seen one game, how do you know what ‘playing well’ looks like?” Jungkook teases, earning him a slap on the knee as Jimin reaches between the front seats. “I agree though. Hoseok-hyung, your Yoongi-hyung was really good. That last shot was so cool!”
“Tell him that yourself,” Hoseok grins at his phone, before looking up at Jungkook. “He’s coming with us tonight.”
“What?”
“Jungkook! Did you even read my message?” Jimin slaps his knee again. “I said that Hoseok wanted to introduce us to him.”
“I know you said that, but I thought you meant like just after the game, so when we came out here I figured it was too busy for that or Hoseok-hyung forgot, maybe.”
“Uh, no,” Hoseok says, putting his phone down and switching the car on and into reverse. “I don’t forget these kinds of things like you do, silly boy.”
“Silly boy?”
“Silly boy!”
“Silly boy.”
“Donkey!”
“Shut up, Jimin!"
“Rude! Don't forget I'm your hyung,” pouts the older.
“I should never have let you binge watch the Shrek movies,” Hoseok sighs as he manoeuvres around the car park and towards the entrance, where he stops and waits. “Anyway, you’re still meeting him. I’m picking him up and we’re going to a club with the rest of the team to celebrate the win.
“Wait, we’re not going to eat?” Jungkook tries to ignore the fact that any minute now, Hoseok’s hot, older friend is going to be getting in the car with them. In the backseat, with Jungkook.
“Oh, you’re hungry?” the eldest sounds somewhat surprised, asking Jimin if he can please hop in the back, baby, before continuing. “I guess we can stop off at a convenience store or something if you’re that desperate to eat.”
“I’m a growing boy and I haven’t had dinner yet, hyung,” Jungkook whines. “Can we get fried chicken on the way, please?"
“Yeah, sure. Just don’t get any chicken crumbs in here or I will get Jiminie to kick you.” Jungkook feels a wave of relief as Jimin gets out of the front passenger seat, even when the older shoots him a devious smile and lightly kicks his ankle.
Jungkook doesn’t register the front door opening again as he coffs, “Please, hyung won’t risk kicking me when I’ll kick him back. Have you seen my thighs?”
“No. Should I have?” There’s a fourth voice joining them as the door shuts, and Jungkook is suddenly mortified and terrifyingly attracted to its low, heavy quality.
“Hyung!” Hoseok screeches, causing everyone in the car to flinch. He stretches across the console to engulf his friend in a hug. “You did so well today! That final fucking shot, oh my God."
“Yeah,” Yoongi chuckles, and Jesus fuck, that shouldn’t be hot. “Honestly, I didn’t think I was gonna make that.”
“I don’t think anyone did. It was truly a basketball miracle,” Hoseok agrees, putting the car into gear and setting them off, away from the school and into town.
“Hey now, don’t discredit the skill it takes to chuck balls full-force at a net.”
“No, that does take special skill. Hyung, I need to introduce you to two of my favourite people.” He points a thumb back at the backseat, briefly looking back at the two youngest. “This is my Jiminie, and our friend Jungkookie, who thinks you were really cool.”
Jimin greets the oldest, who reciprocates, asking about what it’s like being a rhythmic gymnast. Jungkook sputters, because Hoseok really didn’t need to include that bit about him thinking Yoongi was cool. That makes him look very uncool, when he is cool, kind of. But whatever kind-of-coolness he has has now been entirely erased by that comment.
“What about you, thighs?”
It takes a second to register that he’s being spoken to.
“I’m Jungkook,” he blurts, before realising Hoseok introduced him already.
“I gathered,” there’s a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I mean, what do you do? Jimin-ah said you go to the university with him, but you’re not a gymnast.”
“Oh. I’m a weightlifter.” He coughs. “Hence the, uh, thighs.”
“Makes sense,” is his blasé response. “So you enjoyed the game?”
“Yeah,” he admits, “I didn’t know Sungkyunkwan were that good at basketball.”
“We’re in the top five in the Seoul league at the moment,” Yoongi states, though not boastful, “but your team was pretty relentless tonight.” He plugs his phone into the AUX cord on the console, and begins scrolling through his library.
“But luckily your shot won the game, sunbae. It was like something from a movie,” Jimin pipes up, making Hoseok laugh at the honorific.
“You can both call me hyung, if you want,” Yoongi shrugs, selecting a song. It’s bassy, with a minimal beat and some kind of muffled brassy melody in the instrumental, before a foreign voice fills the car.
“J. Cole! Fuck yeah,” Hoseok starts bobbing his head and moving his shoulders gently, naturally fitting to the beat with the grace only someone of his craft can handle. He brings a hand up, mimicking brushing something off of his shoulder as the car eases forward a little.
“You knew it was coming,” Yoongi grins, before chiding the other. “Get your hand back on the wheel, idiot.”
“We’re in traffic that’s barely moving, let me be,” the driver says as he steps on the brake. He returns his hand to the wheel anyway, still moving his head and torso. “Also, we’re gonna stop at a fried chicken place on the way, if that’s cool. Jungkookie here is hungry.”
“Shouldn’t you be stacking up on healthier forms of protein if you’re a weightlifter?” He turns back to look at the boy in the seat behind Hoseok, and Jungkook has to actively try not to stare at the knob at the base of the eldest’s jawline that is oddly attractive. He also has to actively try not to be distracted by the timbre of his voice and actually pay attention to what is being said. On top of that, he has to strain a little to hear over the music. Suddenly, multitasking is a great challenge.
“Chicken is white meat,” he argues, making Jimin and Hoseok laugh. “And the crispy stuff has flour in it, so that covers carbs too.”
“Well, you’re not wrong,” the older replies, mouth quirking up briefly in a smirk. He turns back to the front. “I’ll accept this excuse for making us late to the club.”
“You talk so much shit, hyung,” Hoseok laughs, lightly smacking Yoongi on the shoulder, who doesn’t even flinch. “You’re never early when we go out.”
“That’s because we go out running on your time, which I can waste.” He ignores the other’s shout of indignance. “My time is precious.”
“Ah, hyung, you sound just like Jungkook whenever he makes me late to see Hoseokie,” Jimin says, before pointedly looking at Jungkook, “But God forbid I make him late for an Overwatch match.”
"‘Hoseokie’? Cute,” Yoongi grins, looking over at the driver, whose mouth is now pursed tightly to mask his embarrassment. “Should I tell him that your ma calls you-”
“Don’t you fucking do it-”
“-Seok-seok-ah?”
“Yoongi!”
“Oh my God, that’s so cute!” Jimin giggles, reaching across to pet his boyfriend on the shoulder. “I’m so gonna call you Seok-seokie from now on.”
“No,” the dancer whines, but hardly protests it further.
“How far from the nearest chicken place, Seok-seok hyung?” Jungkook chimes in, grinning cheekily as he makes eye contact with Yoongi in the mirror of the sun visor, who smiles back. It’s good that it’s dark in the car, otherwise he’d probably see Jungkook’s blush that hits him after.
Hoseok groans. “I take it back, no chicken for you.
“Hyung! Do you want me to starve?” Hoseok groans again, and Jimin is still giggling, “Yeah Seok-seokie, are you that cruel?”
The driver pouts, but says nothing more as he continues on toward the nearest fried chicken joint. Jungkook gets himself an eight-piece set, offering a piece each to the others. He could probably tackle a ten-piece comfortably on his own, but it’s only polite since he’s held them up. Hoseok and Jimin both each take a piece, but Yoongi declines.
“I’m good, kid. You need your protein and carbs."
He manages to finish by the time they get to the club, mouth wiped clean of grease and hands cleaned with sanitizer courtesy of Hoseok and his surprisingly well-stocked glovebox. Jungkook leaves his hat in the car, knowing it’ll get lost otherwise. Hoseok finds a place to park as the other three wait in the line on the pavement. Jungkook takes the time to sneakily check out what Yoongi’s wearing; like the rest of their group, he’s in all-black, platinum hair making him look devastating in just a t-shirt and skinny jeans with some very nice Nike sneakers.
Hoseok joins them just as they’re a few people from the front. When they get to the door, Yoongi says something to the bouncer, showing them his ID, who checks the list in his hand before letting the four of them in, no other checks necessary.
“Wow, you’re an actual big baller now, huh hyung,” Hoseok jokes, raising his voice over the music as they head towards the bar, clapping him on the back. “MVP and VIP. You gonna buy us a round and open a tab, now?”
“Please,” Yoongi scoffs, “Even if I had that kind of money I wouldn’t blow it on you kids.”
“Kids?!” Jimin and Hoseok yell at the same time.
“Kids!” Comes another voice, and another arm slings itself around and Yoongi’s shoulders, attached to a familiar set of broad shoulders attached to an impeccable face.
“Seok-hyung!” Hoseok yells, pulling the newest addition to their group into a hug. “Seok-ah!” Seokjin echos, patting the younger briefly on the back, before pulling back to hug Jimin and Jungkook. “Come,” he continues, leading them deeper into the club, “I got us a booth by the team.”
Seokjin is another of Hoseok’s friends, that Jungkook and Jimin met and quickly hit it off with when they went out clubbing one night. Donning a pink button-up shirt, black skinny jeans and Puma sneakers, he doesn’t look as though he’s the oldest of their group, working as a teaching assistant in the Drama department of Hoseok’s university. He rivals Jungkook in his youthful spirit and want for fun, and Jungkook knows now that they are in for a wilder night than he expected, especially if Seokjin gets Jimin mixing his liquor.
“So you know Yoongi-hyung too?” Jimin asks as they all sit down, Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook on one side of the table, Jin and Yoongi on the other. The music is slightly quieter in their area. The oldest nods, his expression morphing into The Look that signals he’s about to start talking as though he’s twenty years older than he actually is.
“I raised Yoongi-ah with my bare hands. Fed him when he locked himself in the studios for longer than three days, sheltered him, changed him, bathed hi-”
“Are you quite finished, uncle Kim?” Yoongi cuts him off, before adding half-heartedly, “yes, I know, I interrupted you. Sorry, hyung.”
Seokjin nods, placated, and Jungkook asks out of curiosity. “Studio? Do you study music?”
“Music production,” Yoongi confirms.
“Ah, cool. What kind of music?” Jimin and Hoseok seem to be snickering amongst themselves beside Jungkook, and he tries not to be paranoid that they’ve clocked his attraction to the basketball player, which they most likely have.
“Hip-hop, mostly, but I also-”
“It’s the man of the hour! Yoongi-hyung’s here, everyone!” Before he can finish his sentence, the aforementioned man is being swept up by one of his teammates and led to the other table. Yoongi looks over his shoulder at their group and Hoseok and Seokjin wave him off. There’s a loud cheering then, and the mantra of MIN YOONGI starts up once again, followed by the universal, SHOTS! Jungkook and the remaining three listen more than they watch as the whole team seems to stand up, toasting loudly before the silence that comes with knocking back their liquor. The relief lasts all of three seconds before they’re all boisterously bouncing around and making noise again.
“Speaking of shots,” Seokjin segues smoothly, “shall I go get us a round?” And really, that should be the first warning. But free alcohol is free alcohol, and they all agree.
One shot turns into two, turns into five. Turns into a round of beer, turns into a round on the dance floor. Jungkook is comfortably drunk, swaying side to side on the dancefloor at the edge of the circle that’s formed in the middle. There’s a dance battle ongoing within the circle; Hoseok is executing some pretty technical B-boy moves with a shocking finesse considering he’s inebriated, making the crowd ooh with each spin and freeze. Seokjin, his opponent, is his polar opposite in the sense that he is completely smashed and executing all of his moves with extreme anti-finesse. He does manage a successful death drop, and everybody, including Jungkook, roars when he lands.
Dance battle over, Jungkook decides he’s tipping into wasted territory and heads out of the crush of people, making it back to their booth from earlier. He slumps down into the cushions, closing his eyes. A nap sounds very good about now. Maybe Seokjin will carry him to Hoseok’s car if he’s too tired.
“You okay, baby bodybuilder?” That voice sounds familiar.
Opening his eyes, Jungkook’s vision is slightly unsteady, but there’s no mistaking Hoseok’s gorgeous basketball-playing friend sat opposite him.
“Not a bodybuilder,” he whines, sitting up as Yoongi slides a cup of clear liquid over the table to him. “‘S this?”
“Water,” the other says, nudging it further. “You look like you need it more than I do.”
“You’re not drunk?” Jungkook frowns. “But ’s a celebration! For you!"
“For the team,” Yoongi corrects, tracing a finger through the condensation left on the table. “And I am drunk, just not as drunk as you, clearly.”
“What’s that s’posed to mean?” He takes a sip of water, relishing in the coolness that soothes his throat, washing down the staling remnants of beer.
“You were literally just about to pass out in the booth of a club.”
" No, no. Was just gonna take a nap. I had training earlier, ’m tired.” He protests, finishing off the glass of water.
“Oh, yeah? The grind never stops, right?” Yoongi’s grinning, and the sight of his teeth and gums is enough to make Jungkook grin right back.
“For sure,” he agrees enthusiastically, patting his legs. “Wasn’t born with these thighs.”
“Ah, yes, the thighs of legend,” Yoongi nods wisely. “Hoseok-ah says they’re one of your redeeming qualities.”
“The fuck, hyung,” he curses the dancer, before petulantly adding, “’S true though. They’re beautiful.”
“Are they really?” Teases the elder. “Surely they’re not better than Jimin-ah’s?”
“They are! Look!” He propels himself up into a standing position, propping a leg up on the seat of the booth and gesturing to his thigh, flexing it to the best of his ability while he’s this wasted.
" Okay, okay! You weren’t kidding,” Yoongi says, motioning with his hands so that Jungkook will put his leg down. The younger does, flopping back into the seat, feeling smug. There’s a niggling in the back of his mind that says it may have not been his best move this evening, but the drunken part of his mind that tells him that he has preserved his reputation and that’s what matters most. The music changes into something slower, volume lowering in the club just a bit, so when Yoongi speaks again, it’s at a normal tone.
“I don’t know what I was expecting, but those are built. What’s your PB?"
“Total?” He gets a hum in confirmation. “Three-hundred and thirty-eight.”
“Holy fuck, kid. That’s like, nearly six of me.” He opens his eyes wide, zoning out as he tries to figure out the older’s weight.
“Wow, You’re light,” he settles on, chuckling. “Makes sense.”
Yoongi looks offended at that. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jungkook laughs harder, partly because it looks like, no, Yoongi definitely is pouting, and he’s very, very cute. His lips are also very nice. Not thick like Jimin or Seokjin’s, but they have a natural pout to them even at rest, pretty and pink.
“Huh?” He barely remembers the question.
“You said it makes sense that I’m light. Is it because of my height? This is a personal attack,” the other huffs, crossing his arms.
“No, hyung! No, no, no. You just have a different body type. Not like mine.” Jungkook explains, gesticulating wildly to get his point across. He likes Yoongi, doesn’t want to offend him.
“I see how it is,” Yoongi continues dramatically, tone exaggerated. “You think I look like a scrawny little runt!”
“No, hyung! I don’t think you, ah- no!” Jungkook says through his giggles, leaning up and over the table as Yoongi grumbles, frowning and standing as if to leave. “Don’t leave, hyung.”
“Disrespectful brat. We can’t all be beefcakes like you,” the older complains. “I bet your body isn’t even that ripped. You’re probably like, eighty percent fried chicken meat.”
“Am not!” Jungkook yells, still laughing. “My body is a temple. Michelangelo shit.”
“That eight-piece bucket you inhaled begs to differ.”
“Does it?” Is this guy challenging him?
“It does.” He is! He’s challenging Jungkook about his physique. And if there’s anything he’s confident about, it’s his body. He puts work into it, damn it! The little niggling in his mind is yelling at him, but his reputation is at stake, and Jungkook can’t have that.
“Oh, yeah?” He says, standing up again, untucking his shirt from his jeans. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m- wait, what are you- oh my God, put your abs away!” Yoongi says, covering his face with both of his hands. Jungkook tucks his shirt back in, cackling.
“I can’t have you defram- deflam- de-”
“Defaming your character?” Yoongi says, still cupping the lower half of his face with his hand, before resting both elbows on the table so he can lean his forehead against them. Jungkook might be imagining it, but the tips of his ears look slightly red. “I can admit that I was wrong in this instance, so don’t sue me.”
“But I’m a student, hyung. I need money,” the younger whines.
“I’m also a student, Jungkook-ah.” Jungkook-ah. His voice makes it sound so nice. “I don’t have money for you to sue me for.”
" But hyuuuung," Jungkook's honestly not entirely sure why he’s whining anymore.
" But Jeongguuuuk."
“Hyung.”
“Yes?”
“Are your thighs okay?” Jungkook watches Yoongi’s brows furrow.
" My thighs? They’re okay, I guess. Kinda skinny, like a girl group member’s-” he’s rambling, and that’s not what Jungkook meant at all. Blushing, he tries to explain.
“No, at the game, you were running a lot.”
“... I was.”
“And you were rubbing them. Your thighs. Did they hurt?”
“Oh.” He’s caught on now what Jungkook is trying to say, thank God. He was running out of things to get his point across. “Yeah, I haven’t trained in a week or two, so doing that much running was a little harder, I guess.”
“Do your thighs hurt now?” He shouldn’t be partying if his thighs hurt. But he’s sitting now, so that’s good, Jungkook thinks.
“Nah, kid, they’re okay,” Yoongi assures him, slapping his legs for good measure. He’s smiling slightly. “Funny you noticed though. You into other peoples’ thighs too?”
“No!” Jungkook squawks, and Yoongi cackles.
“You are.”
“Am not.”
“You are.”
" Am not!"
“Jungkookie is not what?" Hoseok asks, sliding into the booth with Jimin in tow, whose arms are snugly wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist, face in his neck. Seokjin is nowhere to be seen, not that Jungkook is making a particularly large effort to look for him other than turning his head to the side a little.
" Jungkookie has a thigh kink, for his own and other peoples’ thighs.” Jungkook groans, throwing an arm over his face. He’s still drunk, but he can feel himself starting to sober up.
“Am not!" He’s hit with a sudden thought, feeling slightly devious. Pulling his arm away from his face, he grins up at Hoseok.
“Hyung said Jiminie has nice thighs.”
Hoseok quirks a brow at the older. “Did he now?”
“Jungkook-ah is really drunk,” Yoongi deflects smoothly, “He’s been acting indecent and showing off his body.”
“Hey! Keep it family friendly, Kookoo-ah,” Jimin scolds, giggling right after.
“‘Kookoo-ah’?” Oh no.
“Oh no.”
“Interesting. Very interesting.” Jungkook has a bad feeling about the tone of Yoongi’s voice.
“Nope. Not interesting, at all,” he tries, “Hey, hyung, is it time to go home? Are you still drunk?”
“Yeah, I think we’re about ready to go,” Hoseok replies, jostling Jimin a little, who whimpers out a pitiful nooooo , but doesn’t move. “And no, I’ve danced it all out. Jiminie’s still a little tipsy but mostly tired, I think. Seokjin-hyung is… Actually, I’m not sure where he is. But he’ll be okay."
The thought of getting into bed is suddenly the only thing Jungkook wants in the world, waves of tiredness now hitting him much harder than before.
“Are we heading home then?” Yoongi’s asking, standing in his seat and picking up the now empty glass on the table, heading to return it to the bar. Hoseok nods, and then they’re all slowly but surely filing out of the club. By the time they get in the car, Jungkook’s about ready to pass out, so he does. He barely registers when the car finally stops, nor the pairs of arms that help him up some stairs, through the doors, and into a bed.
-
When he comes to the next morning, Jungkook feels the beginnings of a hangover in his temples. His body also aches, courtesy of training and going out last night, but he’s also the comfiest he has ever been. Which means he’s not in his dorm bed.
Sitting up carefully, he registers that he is still clothed, and scans the room. There are a lot of photos hung up around the room; a couple of beach sunsets, what looks like a Scandinavian fjord, a shot of Hoseok and Yoongi with a third guy in what looks like a basement, and then one of a basketball team.
Hold up.
Basketball.
He’s in Yoongi’s room.
Just like that, his memories from the night before filter through his head. He remembers doing a number of rounds that was far beyond sensible, Hoseok bowing to Seokjin in defeat on the sticky club floor, Yoongi sitting with him in the booth. Flashing Yoongi his abs and flexing his thighs. He has at least three (3) whole regrets.
Leaping out of the bed, he searches for his jacket and grabs his phone, which has thoughtfully been plugged into a charger and placed on the nightstand. He shrugs the item of clothing on, checking the time. 9:07AM. He hopes that Yoongi won’t be around to catch him sneaking out. He’ll leave a note on the kitchen table or something, or maybe text Hoseok to text Yoongi his thanks.
Opening the bedroom door as stealthily as he can, he tiptoes through the hall, scanning the living room before he turns to check the kitchen and freezes. Hoseok, Jimin and Yoongi are all sat at the kitchen table, conversation halting when they all spot him simultaneously. The former two burst out laughing when they realise what he was trying to do.
“Leaving so soon?” Yoongi raises a brow. His voice is even deeper in the morning, it seems, which is a direct attack on Jungkook’s health.
“No,” he lies, voice croaking. Clearing his throat, straightening his posture, he attempts to deflect. “Why are you guys awake so early? Also, what are you two doing here?” He directs the last question at the couple.
“Jiminie and I are morning people, Kook-ah. And I live here. Welcome to mi casa," Hoseok says, easy as anything. He looks as though he’s had a perfect night’s rest, and Jungkook hates him for it.
“I slept on the couch and woke up when the two lovebirds did,” Yoongi adds, glancing purposefully at the pair who mumble a sorry, hyung. “But normally I’m not up until past noon.”
That makes Jungkook feel bad; he was such a mess that Yoongi had to give up his bed for him. “Sorry about that, hyung.” The man waves him off. “I didn’t know you guys were housemates though. That’s nice that you get to live together.”
“Nice until one of your housemates gets a boyfriend.” The couple flush again and Yoongi smirks. “Be glad you don’t have to hear their-”
" So, Jungkookie,” Hoseok cuts in hastily. “Why were you trying to sneak out?”
Jungkook winces, rubbing his neck guiltily. “No reason, hyung. Didn’t want to overstay my welcome, ‘s all.”
“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you,” Jimin muses, and Jungkook wants to punch him in the nuts, because he knows what’s coming next. “About what you did last night?”
“Hey, now-” Yoongi starts.
“Oh, yes. The little sneak peak you gave Yoongi-hyung, eh, Kook?” Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows, and beside him, Yoongi looks stuck between making them stop and telling them to carry on. “Didn’t realise you were so into showing off your body to people that you think are-”
“I was really drunk!” He interrupts, not letting that sentence finish itself. “I’m pretty sure hyung was challenging me, anyway.”
“Oh? Hyung?” Hoseok now looks even more interested, “were you seducing our Jungkookie into showing you his assets?"
“Hyung, how could you taint him like this?” Jimin gasps, scandalised. He and Hoseok clutch each other in despair as they direct harmless glares at the older.
Yoongi blinks, the picture of nonchalance, though his ears and neck are definitely too red to be normal. “There was no, uh, ‘seducing’, as you put it,” he says, clearing his throat. “But Kookoo-ah here was very eager to make sure I witnessed his fit body firsthand.”
“You remembered the name? Why, hyung?” Jungkook groans.
“I will never forget such precious information.” Yoongi’s grinning now, and Jungkook is struck by it now that he’s seeing it sober. He really needs to get out of here before he stares at the guy for too long - oops, too late.
“Okay, I’m just gonna leave now,” he says loudly, ignoring the protests from the others and heading for the door. “No, really, I have a couple classes at eleven and then training. I’ve gotta go get my stuff ready.”
“Stay for breakfast at least?” Jimin pleads, eyes going wide in a way Jungkook calls ugly but doesn’t actually say no to.
“We can drive you back to the dorms, since normally I drop Jiminie off anyway,” Hoseok offers, “We promise not to tease you about stripping for hyung.”
“I’m going-"
He ends up staying for breakfast anyway, because free food is best food. To their word, they hardly bring up last night, apart from Yoongi saying that he got a text from Seokjin saying that he went viral on the Seoul nightlife story on Snapchat for his, direct quote, ‘iconic move that ended Aja the queen herself’. It’s a pleasant start to the morning, with Jungkook’s almost-hangover fading as he puts his shoes on and heads to Hoseok’s car.
“See you around, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi greets, “and don’t go flashing any more people when they challenge you about your body.”
“Don’t worry hyung, I’ll only flash you if you ask,” he replies, before realising what he just said and darting into the car with a hurried bye see you. He catches Yoongi laughing as he waves them off and wishes he’d slowed down to hear it.
“‘If he asks’, hmm?” Jimin starts, sounding positively devilish. “You are a thirsty boy, Jungkookie.”
Jungkook fishes his cap from the floor and yanks it over his head and eyes, trying to block out the teasing from the other two for the rest of the ride. He’s definitely not going drinking for a while, but if Hoseok ever asks them to go watch another basketball game, he’s definitely not going to refuse. So he’s got a crush. His hypothesis is that he’ll just have to keep seeing Yoongi over and over and he’ll get tired of his stupidly gorgeous face. Exposure breeds insensitivity, right?
(Going to Yoongi’s games becomes a habit for their group in the following weeks. And when Yoongi’s team gets knocked out of the cup, they end up going to a couple of his underground gigs, where Jungkook finds his hypothesis proven very, very wrong.
Yoongi takes to calling Jungkook ‘Magic Mike’ or ‘Kookookie’ every time he sees him. Jungkook takes to telling himself that the feeling in his stomach isn’t butterflies, it’s his craving for fried chicken.
He’s well aware that he’s very, very wrong.)