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“Sex, wealth, and fame,” Jin said. “The protagonist of every great story achieves at least one of the three.”
This was easy for Jin to say—Jin, who had returned home from his all-boys high school on Valentine’s Day in his senior year with an armful of roses. Jin, who hadn’t aged visibly since his freshman year of college. Jin, who was quite likely the most ethereal person Jungkook had ever laid eyes on.
This was how most of their conversations began: Jin making a bold, maybe exaggerated, but still mostly truthful statement, and then leaving Jungkook and Namjoon to debate on it.
Across from Jungkook, Namjoon frowned and tilted his head. Right on cue, he stuttered as he attempted to recall a novel in which Jin’s theory had been disproved. He laughed, bright and beautiful and brilliant, but he couldn’t argue with Jin, and it wasn’t a big deal because Namjoon was fine admitting such a thing—something that was, unfortunately for Jungkook, true.
It was easy for Namjoon to say, too, even though he wasn’t ever keen on admitting how attractive he was.
But he had dimples.
That, Jungkook thought, was enough of an explanation.
That and, like Jin, Namjoon was kind and smart (so, so smart, fascinatingly smart) and devastatingly attractive. Jungkook was often torn between squishing his face and kissing him, or maybe both at the same time. But that would be hard for him because, while Jungkook considered himself tall, Namjoon was so tall, and his legs were so long, and his chest was broad like Jin’s shoulders were broad.
Both of them were attractive, intelligent, and talented. They could both achieve any of the three things Jin had listed off easily, if they wanted to. They could probably achieve all three if they really set their minds to it like Jungkook knew they could, because they were both freakishly determined if and when they wanted to be.
As for Jungkook—it was different. He knew that he was handsome, relatively speaking. He knew that he was smart and talented and maybe attractive and could maybe be considered cute, but he wasn’t like Namjoon or Jin—he wasn’t confident like Jin or mature like Namjoon, and those were the qualities that Jungkook found the most attractive.
But Jungkook—he couldn't even bring himself to tell Namjoon and Jin, two of the people he was most close to, that he’d never desired sex, wealth, or fame.
“Why does everyone want those things?” Jungkook asked, which was a close as he could get to saying what he really wanted to tell them. Even for him, it felt bold, a little daring, even though neither Jin nor Namjoon would probably pick up on it. It was rare that they didn’t question the ideas that each other proposed, even if they all shared a common standpoint on a topic.
Jin considered his question for a moment. And then he squinted, just the tiniest bit, and said, “Isn’t it just human nature?”
A part of Jungkook agreed with what Jin had said just because it was a fact, and that part of him was also the part of him that laughed along with Jin so that he didn’t seem weird for asking his question in the first place. Another part of Jungkook cringed and felt decidedly less safe in the presence of his hyung.
When he was younger, Jungkook, like everyone else his age, had wondered about what it would be like to be famous. By all accounts, and as unanimously agreed upon by his peers, it sounded like everyone’s dream life: to become so well-known, so accomplished, that nobody wondered who you are when they heard your name. But with adolescence came a vehement opposition to the idea of fame and pride in isolation. Jungkook would like to say that, by now, people his age had given up on that philosophy.
They hadn’t. It was kind of sad, Jungkook thought.
Jungkook thought that his own position on the matter probably wasn’t that unique. At this point in his life, he thought that fame would probably be uncomfortable, but worth it if you got to do something you loved.
Wealth, Jungkook thought that was much more attainable and enjoyable. Jungkook has always been faithful to the ideology that if he liked what he did and was good at it, he’d be successful.
Plus, he could do all sorts of fun things with wealth, like donate to charity and order out for pizza every night and buy all of his favorite dog breeds that were out of a typical college student’s budget.
Sex, Jungkook could sort of understand. He understood how important physically intimacy was to some people, and he could understand how it was desirable to some people without the intimacy. He’d experienced both. And he’d been partially raised by Namjoon, so he’d read enough novels to know why sex was so sought after. He wasn’t naive, even though all of his older friends, at some point, had thought him to be so.
Hoseok wasn’t one of those people, but he was special. He had never come out to Jungkook, he’d never specifically identified himself to him, but Jungkook knew. He’d known since the time when Hoseok had tested the word asexual on his tongue like it was the first time he’d said it and the first time the word had actually brought him relief. He’d known since the time when Hoseok had tested the word asexual on his tongue like he was waiting for a reaction from Jungkook, like he’d needed to gauge his reaction.
Jungkook had played along, and he’d played his part well. He’d been sympathetic; he’d explained that he could understand how that sort of attraction worked, and sex was overrated anyway, at least in his experience. Hoseok had whispered a barely-existent “oh,” and had listened to Jungkook quietly, lips pressed together tightly to conceal the smile that had threatened his perceivable distance from the subject.
Hoseok probably thought that Jungkook was asexual. He wasn’t. But he rarely craved sex outside of relationships, just as a personal preference, and that—that was where Jungkook struggled.
“—kook? Jungkook-ah?” Namjoon’s hand was heavy on Jungkook’s shoulder, comforting, warm, familiar, friendly, brotherly. Concern was etched across his expression. “Are you okay? You seemed kind of spaced out.”
Their eyes met. For a moment, Jungkook didn’t respond. Something clicked. Namjoon’s hand moved to the back of Jungkook’s neck and his other brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, and Jungkook’s breath left his chest as though he’d fallen over backwards.
“I’m okay,” Jungkook said, so, so breathlessly. They didn’t break eye contact. Namjoon was still looking into his eyes even as he looked over the rest of his features. “Just thinking.”
“About what?” Namjoon whispered, his eyes soft. You was what Jungkook felt compelled to answer, even though it hadn’t been that, not exactly, and his lips parted and he leaned forward as he tried to come up with a reply other than senseless stuttering.
“He’s probably plotting world domination or something of the like so that he can win sex, wealth, and fame in one swoop,” drawled Jin. “Whaddaya say, JK?”
Jungkook slowly parted from Namjoon, and it was easy because it didn’t feel final. Namjoon’s hand trailed down from Jungkook’s neck to his hand and back to his own side as Jungkook complained, “I don’t know how we got to this from Namjoonie-hyung’s classic lit course, but this is boring.” Jin followed his gaze to the stack of video game controllers and consoles stacked on top of his dresser. “You both promised me that you’d play with me and that we’d forget about Namjoon-hyung’s research paper.”
Saturday nights were always like this: Jin, pretending he cared about his work less and less as his senior year carried on, but working in between movies and when he thought Jungkook wasn’t looking, not caring if Namjoon saw because Namjoon was always busy working so hard that Jin breaking their unspoken rules wouldn’t register in his mind anyway, and Jungkook, stuck in the middle, sacrificing his own worries to try and grant the older two a moment of peace.
It’d been like this since middle school, when Jungkook and Taehyung had met Namjoon through the same club, and Namjoon had introduced them to Jin, a freshman in high school, and, despite the age gaps between them, they’d become friends quickly. Their weekly gatherings had started with Namjoon tutoring Taehyung in English and Jin tutoring Jungkook in math even though he was bad at it himself. Jungkook kept making excuses for why they should keep meeting until high school, when Taehyung stopped coming because he was apparently tired of watching Jungkook pine over Namjoon and Jin.
Jungkook had been in the middle of doing his math homework at the time. He’d covered the paper with his hand, specifically over the margins upon which he’d written “<3 Kim Seokjinnie <3” over and over again in an unfocused daze. He’d thrown his pencil at Taehyung’s head and shouted, “It’s not like that!”
Jungkook hadn’t been lying at the time, because it had been just after his incredibly awkward phase of experimentation with Taehyung that had led him to believe that he could be physically attracted to someone, but also that would never experience the desire to date someone.
He wasn’t even sure if what he’d had with Taehyung could be called experimentation. Jungkook had recently broken up with his first girlfriend then, was upset that he hadn’t actually been that upset about the breakup, and had invited Taehyung over. About twenty minutes later, their lips were kiss-swollen and red and Taehyung had removed Jungkook’s shirt only to drop it in his half-melted gallon of ice cream, which was what had prompted them to stop and think and slow down long enough so that Taehyung could wipe away (kiss away) the tear tracks on Jungkook’s cheeks.
It had started as a comfort thing. It had ended when, a few weeks later, during a makeout session prompted by Jungkook failing a math test (that Jin had spent the past three weeks helping him study for), Taehyung had pulled away in the middle of a kiss and had said, “I think we should stop doing this.”
It was not the first time Taehyung had made Jungkook cry, or the last, but it was the only time that Taehyung had simply gotten up and left afterwards and the first time he’d skipped a Saturday night get-together with Namjoon and Jin. That night, Jungkook had refused to explain what had happened to Namjoon and Jin, but they’d dealt with his ugly crying and had comforted him anyway.
He’d refused to talk to Taehyung for a whole week, longer than they’d ever gone without talking since they’d become best friends in elementary school, despite how desperately Taehyung had tried to explain himself. Eventually, Jungkook had become sick of pretending to be mad at Taehyung, kissed him one last time, and then they’d decided that, while it had been fun, it was definitely not something that they should continue.
When asked about the experience later, Jungkook would say, simply, that high school was hard, and Taehyung was hot. The two of them would laugh about it later, and Jungkook would never ever admit that, at the time, a part of him had longed for it to last and become something more, because there was nobody he felt as comfortable with as Taehyung.
But, it was mostly that high school was hard, and had apparently stuck well with Jungkook, who’d decided then and had maintained since that he would never again attempt a real romantic relationship with someone, because it just wasn’t for him.
The point was: Jungkook loved Saturday nights. Maybe they were always strangely, awkwardly, somehow something more than brotherly for him, considering that Jungkook was romantically incapable, but the tradition was sacred.
The definition of this word in conjunction with Saturday nights was incredibly versatile.
The day after, as Jungkook dubbed it, The-Saturday-When-Namjoon-hyung-and-I-Almost-Kissed-But-Seokjin-hyung-Interrupted-Us, Jungkook got a job. He spent his first day as a pizza delivery man much too enthusiastic, keeping a tally of all the dogs he met and recording the ratio of those he got to pet to those who tried to eat his hand, trying to remember every type of pizza he delivered, and inhaling the fumes of deliciously greasy pizza to the point at which he thought that the smell would never leave his senses. His parents were considerably less proud of Jungkook’s new job than he was, but it did little to deter him or dim his enthusiasm.
Two weeks after that, Jungkook’s manager was red-faced as she approached him with a request. “I wasn’t sure of who to ask,” she explained, exasperated. “I wouldn’t usually comply with an order like this, or I’d go myself, but the order is from a regular and it should be safe. I don’t think they asked for our cutest delivery boy with poor intentions. Call me if you need anything, okay?”
Jungkook had been sitting in his car, fiddling with the heat, when he’d put the address of his delivery into his GPS. The route was very, very familiar, and Jungkook was torn between choking on a laugh or a sob.
He spent the drive to Namjoon and Jin’s apartment in silence, feeling too uncomfortable in himself to turn on music or really shift his position or do anything but think about the pizza warming the seat next to him and how Jin could definitely eat it on his own, but the toppings were a compromise between his and Namjoon’s favorites.
Jungkook knew that they had their own Saturday nights together, just like Jungkook had Saturday nights (on Sundays and Tuesdays, respectively) with Taehyung and Jimin, and Yoongi. He also knew that that they had Saturday nights with Yoongi too. But somehow, the thought of them sharing nights like that alone made Jungkook feel incomprehensibly lonely and jealous. It was irrational. They shared an apartment; of course they’d spend time together without him.
Jin was the one to open the door. Over his shoulder, Jungkook could see Namjoon sprawled out on the couch, propped up on his elbow. He took a deep breath to stop himself from thinking about how easily Jin could fit into the space in front of Namjoon, and forced himself to smile widely.
“You asked for the cutest delivery boy?” Jungkook said. Jin’s grip on his phone went slack and it dropped from his hand. Jungkook kept smiling.
As Jin stood frozen in place, Namjoon scrambled up from his spot on the couch, looking visibly disheveled. “Look,” he said, voice strained, “I know this looks strange, I know this is hard to explain, but—”
“Just please leave me a good review,” Jungkook said. His cheeks hurt. “It’s hard to establish yourself in this industry.”
Jin took a step back. Namjoon visibly deflated, but he took the pizza and passed it off to Jin, who fumbled to take it securely. “Kook, please,” he begged. He reached out and took Jungkook’s hands, squeezing them firmly. “Could you come in? I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t think that’s allowed,” Jungkook said quietly. Hesitantly, he squeezed Namjoon’s hands back. “What is it, hyung?”
Jin took the hint and disappeared out of sight. Namjoon watched him helplessly, and his eyes were pleading when he looked back at Jungkook. “Jin made me do it as a joke. We weren’t actually looking for a cute delivery boy—not that, um, we’re upset that you came, um, I’m glad you did.”
“It’s okay.” Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry why are you even upset? “I don’t know why you think I’d be upset.”
“I, uh, I…”
“Jin paid online, so my job is done,” Jungkook interrupted. “I’ll leave you two in peace now.”
Jungkook tried to pull away, but Namjoon held on to his hands tighter. “It was because I’ve never seen you smile like that and it scared me,” Namjoon said quietly. “Not because I was making any assumptions about you, okay?”
He knows.
“Okay,” Jungkook said, and Namjoon let go of his hands. “Have a good night, hyung. Tell Seokjin-hyung I said goodbye, too.”
“Of course. You too, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon said, and for a second he looked lost, like he wanted to say more, but Jungkook—couldn’t take that. When he nudged the door shut slowly, Namjoon didn’t protest.
Jungkook spent the rest of his shift hyping himself up for the inevitable: effective communication.
The looming overhead threat of what he had to do had him on edge, and it was difficult to ignore even though he had a job to do. His palms were sweaty and his heart was racing, and by the time he was finally home, his sigh of relief was more of a shaky gasp for air.
He’d changed the very the idea of the text he was going to send dozens of times while he’d been working, and rephrased it maybe thousands of times. Was it necessary? That was debatable, but Jungkook had little else to do with his restless energy, and Taehyung wouldn't be home until the next morning.
He would be the first to admit that he was driven by jealousy—but it wasn’t just that, and Jungkook was sure of that, even though he wasn’t sure of what exactly was making him so nervous and desperate for validation or recognition or attention or friendship or love, or whatever it was that he couldn’t identify because he’d never felt anything like it.
The thing was that Jungkook could remember relatively little of his life before he’d met Namjoon and Jin, and he almost couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t been close.
When Jungkook had met them, he’d started becoming the person he was now, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. Jungkook had been smart enough, good at sports, and had enough hobbies to keep him entertained. He hadn’t thought himself to be that special.
Namjoon and Jin had been the ones to teach him his strengths and his weaknesses. They’d taught him passion, they’d taught him guilt, they’d taught him kindness, they’d taught him how to compromise. They’d offered him endless support and encouragement and love and Jungkook couldn’t imagine—and didn’t want to imagine—where he’d be without their influence.
In a strange way, Jungkook couldn’t picture a world in which he had only one of them.
But he also didn’t think that, even if their dynamics changed, he’d ever lose one of them from his life, and that was what he felt validated his actions.
Jungkook loved having dinner with Namjoon.
Seeing Namjoon dressed up for him was enough to make Jungkook happy. Seeing Namjoon look at the menu with wide eyes and seeing him flush (and seeing his dimples come out) when he looked around the restaurant was enough to make Jungkook feel as though he would never stop smiling.
“You didn’t come here with classmates,” Namjoon said as he shrugged off his coat. He wasn’t quite looking at Jungkook, his eyes raking over the subtly elaborate architecture of the restaurant, and the exotic potted plants hanging around the room, and the intricately unique table settings. “There’s no way they could have afforded this.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Jungkook said, fighting away a smirk. Namjoon looked over at him from across the table and he could have sworn that there were stars in his eyes. “You’ll never know because I’m not telling you.”
“I’m okay with that, and I promise I won’t press you unless you don’t let me pay for my meal.”
Namjoon smiled again, and Jungkook felt himself get a little teary-eyed.
Dinner was spent discussing what tattoos they would get, if any, Jungkook’s current favorite TV show, Namjoon’s recent promotion (that he claimed he would be using to pay for dinner—including Jungkook’s), and Jungkook’s first car (and how he’d totaled it). It felt effortless, and Jungkook wasn’t sure of when he stopped tapping his foot or when Namjoon stopped holding his breath or when they’d leaned in so close together than their knees knocked gently under the table, but it was easy and comfortable and something Jungkook knew would happen again.
If he had it his way, there would always be a guarantee that it would happen again, and again and again, and what scared Jungkook was that Jin wasn’t there with the two of them but it was okay because Jungkook knew that he could give the comfort of Namjoon a try.
Jungkook didn’t know if it was the context or the mood he was in or if it was just Namjoon, but when Namjoon reached forward and took Jungkook’s hands into his own and kissed his knuckles, Jungkook, for once, didn’t feel afraid, not of how strange it was to feel the way he did or how wrong it probably was.
He only felt happy, and he fidgeted happily in his seat and smiled and Namjoon smiled back and Jungkook sort of wanted to pet his hair and kiss him and give him the world.
“Thank you so much for tonight,” Namjoon said when he dropped Jungkook off at his dorm that night. It was stereotypical and sappy and at least a little romantic, and Jungkook loved it. He stepped closer to Namjoon and grinned. “Let’s do this again, okay?”
“Yes please,” Jungkook said. He leaned in for a hug and Namjoon met him halfway. The feel of Namjoon’s arms around him, their chests pressed together, was so familiar that Jungkook was overwhelmed. He hugged him closer for just a second, and then pulled away only far enough to look into his eyes.
“Any time,” Namjoon murmured, “any time, for anything, and I’m here.”
“Me too,” Jungkook said. “You know that, right?”
“Of course,” Namjoon said. He tilted his head—Jungkook was pretty sure his heart stopped for a second—and kissed Jungkook’s cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”
Jungkook gasped a little. His knees went weak. His grip on Namjoon’s shoulders—when had his hands moved there?—slackened. He felt as though he was something akin to a human blob.
Once again, it was strange, so uncharacteristic for Jungkook, but it still felt nothing but good.
“Yeah!” Jungkook squeaked, and Namjoon laughed, and he sounded pretty. “Text me when you’re home safe, okay?”
“I will. Good night, Jungkook-ah.”
Taehyung, when he saw Jungkook, laughed, and then demanded the details, and Jungkook didn’t mind telling him, not even when he got to the parts that would usually make him cringe. He curled up with Taehyung against his chest and ice cream shared between them, a bit of a tradition by now, and he was in such a good mood he didn’t protest when Taehyung took control of the remote.
“Do you think I should ask him?” Jungkook asked later on, just loud enough so that Taehyung could maybe hear him over the sound from the show he’d picked, but quietly enough so that Taehyung could ignore him if he wanted to.
“Does he make you happy?” Taehyung asked, because of course he’d heard, and Jungkook nodded into his shoulder. “Then do what makes you happy. He wants to make you happy, too.”
Jungkook didn’t reply, but he shifted Taehyung in his arms so that he could dig his phone out of his pocket. He didn’t know how to ask Namjoon for what he wanted, and he’d never had something close to what he wanted from Namjoon—he wasn’t even entirely sure of what he wanted—but unlike with asking him to dinner, he knew that Namjoon would be able to fill in the blanks.
And if he wasn’t able to, he hadn’t made any obligations yet.
Jungkook closed the app and scrolled listlessly through his notifications, a steady buzz of excitement thrumming through him, although Taehyung was a grounding presence, carefully taking the edge off his adrenaline. Jungkook paused, thumb hovering over a missed call from Jin.
He felt guilty.
Jungkook forced himself to take a deep breath. Guilt over his desires for Namjoon and Jin wasn’t new, but panic was, and it bubbled up thickly in his chest where his former ease with Namjoon had once resided. Jungkook tapped Taehyung’s shoulder and showed him his phone screen.
“You don’t have to call back,” Taehyung said, ruffling Jungkook’s hair gently.
“I think I have to,” Jungkook said. He grimaced. Taehyung squeezed his shoulder wordlessly as Jungkook swiped to call Jin back.
“JK!” Jin greeted him cheerfully, picking up almost immediately. “You didn’t have to call me back so late, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Jungkook said. “I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”
“It wasn’t anything too important. You said you wanted to call me tonight though, and you hadn’t, so I thought I’d try.”
Of course I forgot. I was too focused on Namjoon-hyung to remember what I promised Jin-hyung, of course.
“I’m sorry I missed you,” Jungkook said. He suddenly wished that Taehyung wasn’t sitting so close, so that he could get up and walk around or do something with his nerves other than hug it out on Taehyung, who was wonderful but wasn’t deserved by Jungkook. “I actually do miss you a lot, hyung.”
“Then let’s make plans,” Jin said, and Jungkook felt impossibly more guilty, like Jin must have known everything he’d been thinking. “Lunch tomorrow? No, wait, let’s go see a movie or something. Or dinner. Or both. Or somewhere else fun, you pick. We haven’t done something like that in a long time.”
“I’d like that,” Jungkook said. He hoped that Jin couldn’t hear how unsteady his voice was, or how close to tears he was. “We can talk about it.”
“Good,” Jin said, and despite everything, Jungkook could still picture the smile that must have been on his face as he spoke. “I don’t want to keep you for long, but I’m glad. Have a good rest of your night, Jungkook-ah.”
“You too, hyung. Thank you.”
Jungkook hung up quickly, and sighed softly.
“Are you okay, Kookie?” Taehyung asked. Jungkook looked back at him with a wobbly frown, and Taehyung turned around in Jungkook’s lap to hug him.
Planning anything with Jin was a difficult task due to his heavily packed schedule, but it was made much more challenging due to Jungkook’s unspoken unwillingness to pick a date and go out with him.
After some back and forth, Jin eventually gave up and told Jungkook to pick a day and said that he would clear his schedule for him. Jungkook grudgingly gave him a list of days and times that he was free, and Jin suggested a movie for them to see and a restaurant for them to go to after Jungkook’s original suggestion of bowling was shot down.
(“I definitely want to go with you soon,” Jin had promise him. “But there are some things I want to talk to you about and if we’re going to get competitive I want to get competitive.”
Jungkook had then made him promise that they would actually, go soon, and Jin suggested another day that same week and Jungkook only agreed because he loved bowling.
He loved Jin, too, but his guilt was so powerful that every second around him felt strained.)
Jungkook spent the bus ride to dinner with Jin daydreaming about texting Namjoon, or calling him, and the things he could say to him and how Namjoon would react. In his perfect fantasies, Jungkook imagined that Namjoon would accept him with open arms every time, and would carefully listen to what he had to say and respond with as much passion as Jungkook had to offer. He imagined telling him that he just wanted him to know how he felt, or maybe asking for more than he could give, and imagined many more nights like the one he’d shared with him.
But when he saw Jin waiting for him, all thoughts of Namjoon were erased from his mind.
Jin was someone whom Jungkook considered to be effortlessly beautiful, but when he tried to look good, “powerful” couldn’t even begin to describe him. Jungkook was almost unashamed to admit that the first thing he noticed was Jin’s lips—he was definitely wearing lip gloss and it physically hurt Jungkook—and then his artfully tousled hair—and Jungkook had never thought that an exposed forehead could have a detrimental physical effect on him, but he was now so fully invested that he couldn’t question it.
(Maybe it wasn’t detrimental, exactly, but Jungkook felt just a little too warm and comfortable and wanted to touch Jin so badly, too badly.)
Jin was, as always, the picture of elegance and poise, from the way his shift framed his shoulders to the rings on his fingers to the carelessly prideful way in which he held himself. Jungkook was intensely attracted to him, even though it didn’t quite make sense to him, and he couldn’t allow himself to question it. Jungkook stepped closer to him, a little halting.
“Pretty,” Jungkook breathed, and he wasn’t sure if Jin heard him, but he smiled back at him softly.
Jin was a wonderful friend. Taehyung was the culinary major—Jungkook was blessed that he was his roommate, but he wasn’t using him for his major and Taehyung only cooked for them when he wanted to and suggested it himself—but Jin was street smart when it came to food. He knew the best restaurants and what to order, and he made so many suggestions that Jungkook eventually told Jin to order for him and surprise him. Jin was eager to comply and picked out something that he somehow knew that Jungkook would end up loving.
Even Jin’s drink choices were perfect, and Jungkook was simultaneously fascinated by Jin’s wealth of knowledge and incredibly thrilled by the quality of his meal, which was impressive considering who he lived with and how often he did let Jin convince him into going out to eat. Jungkook had been nervous at first, but he had faith that Jin had only been able to plan so well because he knew Jungkook so well, so Jungkook felt at ease. He maybe even felt safe.
So much so that he didn’t overthink or even think much at all when he leaned into Jin’s seat during the movie. The movie was good also, because Jin’s taste was impeccable, and because Jin held Jungkook’s interest as well as any movie could. Jin was in such a sharp contrast that it had originally been hard for Jungkook to settle into Jin’s rhythm again after being so close with Namjoon, but Jin also wasn’t new to him.
Jin was no enigma to Jungkook. Jungkook knew his every detail just as he knew Namjoon’s; he knew the exact pitch of Jin’s laughter and when it would change, he knew the shape of Jin’s smile, he knew how his fingers felt against Jungkook’s own, how Jin curled them around Jungkook’s like he wasn’t thinking and acted only on what felt good, but always hesitated a second long enough for Jungkook to know that every one of his moves was measured, and he knew the exact pressure of Jin’s hugs, and each one of Jin’s habits, Jin’s nervous tics, his happy tics, and it was all of this and more that shaped Jin into Jungkook’s Jin.
And during the movie, Jin trailed his hand up and down Jungkook’s arm in a comfortable rhythm and eventually laced their fingers together and squeezed. Jungkook squeezed back, and when he let himself think about it, it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be.
The end of the night with Jin was much different than the end of the night with Namjoon. The atmosphere was, as it had been with Namjoon, just different enough from their usual nights out to know that something had changed, but it wasn’t focused like it had been with Namjoon. He’d held Namjoon so tightly, but Jin was a free spirit, and he kept making Jungkook laugh like he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
And that, too, was something that Jungkook could imagine himself holding on to.
Jin left Jungkook on his doorstep with a tight hug and a pat on his shoulder, and, like Jungkook had done with Namjoon, he made him promise that he would text him when he got home safely. Taehyung was waiting for him on the other side of the door, and Jungkook felt something twist in his gut when he saw him, but couldn't stop smiling.
With Taehyung, it was impossible to lie, and that made it so much harder for Jungkook to pretend like half of his feelings didn’t exist to make it easy for himself.
“Had a good time?” Taehyung asked, and Jungkook nodded, still catching his breath.
“I was happy with Namjoon,” Jungkook said, “and I had fun with Jin.”
Taehyung hummed in agreement. He regarded Jungkook carefully for a moment, and then said, not sounding at all like it was something groundbreaking, “Why not have both?”
Jungkook froze. He was still unzippering his coat. “What do you mean?” he asked. Even to himself, he sounded a little frantic. “You mean that if I chose I can still be friends with the other?”
“Not exactly,” Taehyung said. “There are ways to work this out, you know… if you talked to them. You wouldn’t have to be exclusive, or maybe if they were both also—”
“No no no no no,” Jungkook interrupted, and it was suddenly a lot harder to breathe. “I can’t do that Tae, I can’t, it’s not—it’s not—safe.”
Taehyung’s expression softened. “You don’t have to, Kookie, it was just a suggestion.” He frowned a little. “You don’t have to force yourself to decide now, you know. Or even decide to continue anything. They won’t mind.”
“I know,” Jungkook said.
And he did, really. He knew that neither Namjoon nor Jin would mind if he asked for more time regardless of whether or not he explained himself. But somehow, this made his guilt feel impossibly more painful.
Jungkook rubbed sleep out of his eyes and sat up, sheets pooling around his waist. Across the room, Taehyung looked at him and rolled his eyes, so Jungkook rolled his eyes back at him and scrolled to Namjoon’s contact name.
“I’m calling Namjoon,” Jungkook said to Taehyung. Taehyung nodded thoughtlessly, but, after a moment, turned to look at him, brows furrowed. Jungkook called Namjoon on a fairly regular basis, and he’d hoped that Taehyung would think (but had known that he wouldn’t) that it was one of these normal calls. “I don’t know how long it’ll be, Tae, but I’ll text you right after.”
Taehyung nodded. “I wish I could wait, but…”
Jungkook shook his head. “Go meet with Hoseok. I’ll be okay.”
Taehyung hesitated. “Have you made a decision?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I might know in a few minutes.”
Taehyung waited until Jungkook had his phone to his ear before leaving. He crossed his fingers and gave him a reassuring smile, and Jungkook forced himself to smile back at him, but it turned out to be more of a grimace.
“Hey, Namjoonie-hyung,” Jungkook said softly, as soon as Namjoon picked up. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” Jungkook had never liked exaggerated comparisons, but Namjoon’s voice sounded like honey and he thought that he could swim in it if he wanted to. His voice sounded like sunny weather and beaches with pretty seashells and raindrops on a closed window. “And—you?”
“I’m okay.”
There was a moment of silence between them, but it wasn’t awkward, only heavy with anticipation. Jungkook fiddled with a loose string on the hem of his shirt. “So, um…”
“Take your time.”
“You know how I, um, I don’t really experience attraction like most people?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve been, um, thinking about it a lot lately.” Jungkook slipped out of bed and sighed. “I’m really not sure of how I feel. Or how it affects my life.”
“That’s okay. I think even I’m unsure sometimes, still.”
“You probably know where I’m going with this,” Jungkook said. He was pacing now, but he couldn’t really feel it. “I had a lot planned to say but I’ve forgotten it all. I don’t think I know how to explain this. I don’t know if there are words.”
For a moment, all Jungkook could hear was the sound of Namjoon’s breathing. Namjoon exhaled slowly. “I might know. I don’t want to assume anything or impose myself on you.”
Jungkook licked his lips. He said, slowly, “I had a lot of fun that night we went to dinner.”
“Me too,” Namjoon said, and his voice cracked. “I really did.”
“I didn’t have to think about what I was doing or—or even who I was,” Jungkook said. He could feel that he was close to rambling, and he stopped himself. “It felt good.”
“I know, Jungkook-ah.” Namjoon paused. “Was it like with Taehyung?”
Jungk dug his nails hard into the palm of his hand, relishing the pain to bring his thoughts out of the cloud in his mind and the tightness of his throat. “You knew about that?”
“Not really. I suspected that it might have been something, though.”
“It’s not like with Taehyung,” Jungkook said. “It’s…. Um… It’s—Namjoon-hyung—”
“It’s okay, I think I know.”
“Hyung, I don’t know what I want.”
Jungkook could hear Namjoon’s breath hitch. He felt a little dizzy. “You don’t have to know yet,” Namjoon said, and Jungkook felt a brief flash of jealousy—jealous of Namjoon in the sense that he could be selfless even when he had so much to worry about on his own.
Jungkook closed his eyes. He fought with himself for a moment, his thoughts sharp and harsh and abrasive against each other. It wasn’t what thinking around Namjoon was supposed to feel like, so he blurted out what he was thinking: “But hyung—it’s not just you.”
Namjoon said nothing. As seconds passed by, Jungkook felt more panicked, more scared, and he said, hastily, “I’m sorry, hyung, I know it’s weird, I’m not even sure of it myself, so don’t think about it like—like I know you are, and—hyung, I’m so sorry.”
“Kook.”
Jungkook gasped.
“Breathe.”
Jungkook took a deep breath, broken in the middle by a sob torn from his chest. He felt pathetic, and curled his hand into a fist again as he sank to the floor.
“You’re okay. It’s okay,” Namjoon said. He sounded a little worried, and Jungkook felt guilty on top of everything else. “Jungkookie, please don’t be upset. I’m okay with that, with whatever you’re feeling, just please don’t be upset—please don’t cry.”
“I—I won’t, I promise,” Jungkook said, even as he was wiping his eyes. “Namjoon-hyung…”
“Don’t worry,” Namjoon said, simple but still comforting. “Do you want to keep talking? I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“It’s okay,” Jungkook said miserably. “I’m… I don’t think I’ll be able to…”
“Is Taehyung with you? I wish I could be there with you.”
“No, but he wants me to text him. I think, maybe I…”
“You can,” Namjoon said quickly. Jungkook was pretty sure that he sounded relieved. “I want to hear from you later, but…”
“I’ll call you back later, maybe,” Jungkook said. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess. I’m sorry I don’t know what I want.”
“Please don’t apologize,” Namjoon begged. “Please call me if you need me. Or text me. Okay?”
“Okay. I will.”
For a long time after his call with Namjoon, Jungkook remained sitting on the floor, staring at the ceiling, hands kept busy with folding and refolding clothes that he could reach and bending his phone case and clicking pens, until he eventually gathered the courage to call Taehyung.
Jungkook would probably never be ready to call Jin, who was even more intimidating than Namjoon, so he called him as soon as Jin told him he could.
“Hyung, you’ve talked to Namjoon, haven’t you?”
“Jungkook-ah…” Jin’s following sigh was exasperated. Jungkook knew that he was being a little selfish, and probably unreasonable and pushy, but he was desperate to know. He waited impatiently for Jin to continue. “We did talk a little, yes.”
“About what?”
“Jungkook…”
“You know then, right? About—how I feel? Is that what you talked about?”
“We talk about everything, Kookie,” Jin said, demeaningly gently. “We just—well—it’s not that the idea hasn’t come up before. But I promise that we won’t change anything, okay? You don’t have to be afraid. You’re safe with us.”
Jungkook felt tears of embarrassment and frustration prick in his eyes. Of course they’d talked about him like that before, of course they’d speculated about him. And of course they’d assumed that Jungkook was afraid of the change that he wanted so badly—what he wanted so badly, but couldn’t say for certain he wanted because he still couldn’t put a name to his thoughts.
They were too complicated, Jin and Namjoon were too vastly distinct, and Jungkook had forcefully inserted himself and his conflict into their lives. Jungkook’s easy chemistry was frustrating, and his lack of chemistry with Jin now that things had become tense between them was even worse, and Jungkook, as much as he’d sought change, would be nothing but thrilled if things could go back to the way they were before.
You're safe with us.
“Jungkook-ah? JK?”
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Jungkook said, voice thick, “just didn’t know you’d been talking about me.”
“I’m sorry,” Jin said, but Jungkook couldn’t tell how genuine he was over the phone. “I don’t know everything. Namjoon said you hadn’t decided on anything yet?”
It wasn’t like he’d explicitly asked Namjoon not to talk to Jin, so Jungkook couldn’t be too upset about that. After all, just like Jin had said, it was practically guaranteed that telling one of them anything was as good as telling both of them.
“No, I haven’t,” Jungkook grumbled. “This isn’t helping.”
“I’m sorry,” Jin apologized again, and that sounded more genuine. “Maybe, um… there’s no harm in waiting?”
Jungkook felt as though he’d been doused in a bucket of cold water. “You… don’t want me to choose?”
Jin sighed. Jungkook felt terribly annoying. “That’s not what I said, Jungkook-ah. I want… Well, Jungkook, it’s more important that you feel sure of yourself. I don’t want to push you into anything by saying I want you to choose now.”
“But I want to know what you want,” Jungkook pleaded. “We can’t do this if you won’t tell me.”
“I don’t think it’s best if we do this now,” Jin said. “We should wait, and you can give it more thought, and cool down a bit—”
“Don’t tell me what to do, hyung,” Jungkook said. “I know you’re just trying to show that you care, but I don’t want to be treated like I’m a baby.”
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I keep saying the wrong things. I love you, Jungkook-ah, and I want what’s best for you.”
“I know you love me as a friend, Jin-hyung.”
“Jungkook…?”
“I think it’s best if we don’t talk right now. I have a lot to think about.”
“If that’s what you want. I’m sorry we fought.”
“Me too.”
“Text me later, okay? I don’t want to go to sleep tonight know that you’re upset with me.”
Jungkook’s relationship with Taehyung had ended a long time ago, but something he would never stop looking to Taehyung for was approval.
When Jungkook had met Taehyung, he’d seemed so much older and wiser than Jungkook was. Jungkook now knew that that was very much not the case, but a part of him would always remember Taehyung as the one he looked to when he needed a mature opinion.
Dating Taehyung—or periodically kissing him, or experimenting with him—had somehow been all the permission Jungkook needed to forever whine to him about his romantic problems, and those currently included: Jin’s insecurity-induced attitude problem, Namjoon’s wonderfully sweet way of interacting with Jungkook on a daily basis, and Jungkook’s hesitance to let Namjoon in when he couldn’t have Jin at the same time.
(There was also that Jungkook liked Jin just as much as Namjoon, but Jin was giving him very little incentive to allow him more chances when Namjoon was so open and honest even when things weren’t going his way.)
It was Taehyung, of course, who guided Jungkook through his anger and encouraged him to accept Jin’s proposal for he, Jungkook, and Namjoon to go out to dinner together. Between the lines of his text had been the careful implication that they were only going as friends, which Jungkook didn’t mind at all.
It hadn’t stopped Jungkook from asking Taehyung what he should wear or if he should flirt or if he should try involving himself physically. Taehyung had eventually rolled his eyes at him, ruffled his hair, and had told him to treat them as he did normally.
Treating Namjoon and Jin normally meant that Jungkook could be himself, which was why Jungkook liked being around them, but being himself had gotten him in trouble with Jin and had made Namjoon touch him in ways that simultaneously made him melt and want more and also shy away in discomfort.
But it wasn’t how he usually fit together with Namjoon and Jin, and if Taehyung was correct, tonight would be what indicated if it was just a phase.
Unsurprisingly, Namjoon was the first to arrive to the restaurant. He was standing outside when Jungkook arrived, blowing into his hands to warm them up. He smiled when he saw Jungkook, and when Jungkook stepped closer to him, he wasn’t sure of who initiated it, it felt natural to hug him.
“Hey,” Namjoon said, and he was still smiling, and Jungkook was tempted to poke his dimples. “I missed you. I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk much after you called.”
“It’s okay, hyung,” Jungkook said. “I don’t really wanna…”
One of Namjoon’s hands had lingered on his shoulder. He squeezed, and it was comforting. “We don’t have to talk about it right now. I promise I’ll do my best not to make it complicated, You deserves to just enjoy your night.”
Jungkook opened his mouth to respond, but wasn’t sure of what to say. He was interrupted by Jin hugging him from behind. “JK! Joonie! How are you?”
Jungkook stiffened involuntarily. Jin must have felt it, because he immediately backed away and went to stand by Namjoon’s side. Jungkook instantly felt ashamed. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d rejected Jin’s touch, and he hadn’t even thought about it; he’d instinctually reacted poorly. He felt impossibly worse than he had a few minutes before, and Namjoon must have seen it on his face, because he opened the door and held it open. “I’m good, Jin-hyung, how are you? Let’s head on in. It’s cold outside.”
Jungkook felt a little better by the time they’d sat down, more than likely because he felt more comfortable talking than trying to act like nothing was wrong. He had a brief moment of panic in which he was forced to choose between sitting next to Namjoon or Jin, and slid into the spot beside Jin in somewhat of a peace offering. Jin gave him a little smile and passed him a menu.
He’d last track of the amount of times he’d gone out to dinner with Namjoon and Jin, just the three of them, a long time ago. A few years ago it had been a luxury—common after Jungkook’s high school sports games, or in celebration of high test scores, and for birthdays. Over time, they’d continued coming up with new reasons to celebrate, until it’d become an almost weekly occurrence.
This was nothing new, but Jungkook still found himself nervous. He couldn’t stop fidgeting, tapping his feet and folding the corners of his menu and bending the straw in his drink. Jin glanced over at him a few times, once took his hand and squeezed it before laying it flat on the table away from his menu, and Namjoon’s smile looked forced, but neither of them said anything to him.
Clearly, neither of them felt as though anything was wrong. There was no tension between the two of them, not even the simmering romantic tension Jungkook had been sure he’d seen countless times before, and Jungkook was the one making it awkward.
Conversation had become more easy by the time they ordered their food. Jin had asked Namjoon a question about a project he was working on for one of his classes, and Namjoon jumped on the opportunity to answer and fill the silence. Jin seemed overly engaged in the conversation, and so Jungkook only had to make occasional comments as he played with his napkin.
“How about you, JK? Do you like your classes so far?”
Even though he’d been hungry before he’d arrived, and the food in front of him looked delicious, Jungkook couldn’t imagine trying to stomach it. He swirled his chopsticks around his plate one more time before putting them down and turning around to answer Jin’s question.
Jin’s expression was soft and welcoming. His posture was anything but threatening. Still, a lump arose in Jungkook’s throat. “They’re—um, good.”
“Nothing else?” Jin teased. “Just ‘good?’”
Keeping up with the conversation hadn’t been hard when it had been focused on Namjoon. It was different now that Namjoon and Jin were both looking at him at the same time, both looking for answers, both so familiar yet so intimidating at the same time.
“I like them,” Jungkook elaborated, feeling a little embarrassed. “The gen eds are kind of boring, but I don’t mind them too much.”
“That does sound boring,” Jin said, a light smile playing on his lips. Jungkook began chewing on his bottom lip. “I remember taking those. They were so tedious.”
Jungkook grimaced.
“Are you feeling okay, Jungkook-ah?” Namjoon asked.
“I—I’m okay. Just not feeling well,” Jungkook said, and the longer Namjoon looked at him, the faster his breath seemed to come. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to eat much, I’m sorry, I won’t make you pay for mine…”
“No, I don’t mind, don’t worry about that,” Namjoon said, brows furrowing. “Jungkook…”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Jin asked. And then he was leaning closer and Namjoon was reaching across the table and—nope nope nope nope.
Jungkook stood up abruptly and stepped out of the booth. “I’m s-sorry, I should probably get going. I, uh, really don’t feel well. I’m sorry. I’ll see both of you tomorrow? I’ll pay you back then?”
“Yeah, of course,” Namjoon said, and he looked only confused, not disappointed, and that was okay. “I hope you feel b—”
Jungkook half walked, half ran outside, without bothering to put his coat on. By the time he’d made it out the door, he was shaking violently, panting for breath, and struggling to see through his tears. His hand jerked involuntarily as he fumbled to dig his phone out of his pocket, but he somehow managed to call Taehyung as he walked to the closest bus stop.
“Jungkookie?” Jungkook sobbed at the sound of his voice, both hands clutching the phone to his ear. “Jungkook? What’s wrong? Weren’t you out with Namjoon and Jin?”
“I—I was, b-but I—couldn’t do it, Tae, I…”
“What’s wrong, baby? Did something happen?”
“N-no, everything was fine, I just—everything was fine, a-and normal, hyung, but it, it wasn’t and I c-couldn't stay there.”
“Jungkook, where are you? Do you need me to pick you up?”
“Not if you’re busy, hyung, no…”
“Doesn’t matter. You come first. Is your location still shared with me?”
“Y-yes…”
“Okay. Okay. Find somewhere warm and don’t move too far, okay? And don’t hang up on me. I want you to keep talking to me.”
Jungkook wasn’t sure of where he’d walked to. It wasn’t a very familiar area to him. He stopped abruptly, looked around, and began heading over to a cafe across the street. “Okay, Tae,” he said softly.
“Can you tell me what happened? Or maybe try to talk through how you’re feeling?”
“I d-don’t know, I… N-nothing happened, I just…”
“Realized you couldn’t be around them without resolving what’s been going on?” Jungkook nodded, even though Taehyung couldn’t hear him, and covered his mouth with his hand, trying to quiet the sound of his crying. “Oh, Kook, don’t cry… I’ll be there soon, I promise, I’ve got you.”
Jungkook didn’t know what he’d do without Taehyung.
This time, it was Jin who arrived at the restaurant first.
He was sitting outside, hands in his pockets. He was staring intently at the ground, and didn’t notice Jungkook until he sat down next to him. “Hey,” Jungkook said, his voice cracking a little.
Jin looked up at him, but his expression was unreadable, and Namjoon arrived right after, saving him from having to reply.
Jungkook was nervous, knew that he probably looked nervous, but it was nothing compared to the disheveled mess that Namjoon was.
(The disheveled mess that Namjoon always was when he knew he did something wrong, fringe halfway between flattened out and curled up like he’d run his hands through it too many times, cheeks a slowly darkening pink, his hands fidgeting like he didn’t know if he should fold them or put them in his pockets or leave them by his side, and his steps awkward like he didn’t know what to do with his height.)
Other than a brief greeting, Namjoon didn’t say anything until they’d sat down. Jungkook picked the spot next to him. He wished desperately to touch him and comfort him as usual, but he knew that that probably wasn’t allowed. Jungkook let out a long, shaky breath, and glanced to the side to see Namjoon doing the same.
Across the table, Jin looked helpless. He passed out menus, and Jungkook took one and pretended to flip through it, keeping up the front Jin offered him because it was easier to collect his thoughts that way.
“There’s a lot of pasta here, and this isn’t an Italian restaurant,” Namjoon mused. He sounded mostly normal, but his leg was still bouncing underneath the table. “That’s okay, right?”
Jin nodded absentmindedly. “What do you call fake pasta?”
“What?” Jungkook asked.
“An impasta.”
Namjoon’s laugh was half genuine, half forced. Jungkook smiled weakly. Jin’s neck was pink, like he was embarrassed rather than humoring himself.
(Jungkook knew, though, that Jin didn’t joke around just because he thought he was funny. It was because he also genuinely thrived on making people smile, and it was one of the many things Jungkook loved about him.)
“Maybe we should—um,” Namjoon waved his hand, “yeah.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbled, looking down at his hands, folded in his lap.
“Me first?” Jin said.
Neither Namjoon nor Jungkook replied. Jungkook’s heartbeat was so loud he was pretty sure that Namjoon could hear it at the very least.
“I think I, um, haven’t put myself out there as much as I should have been,” Jin said. His voice was just slightly more high pitched than usual, just like it always was when he was nervous. “I know that Jungkook-ah… hasn’t gotten to say everything he’s wanted to, but he’s been more honest than I have.”
Jungkook nodded, a little disbelieving, as Jin folded and refolded his hands in front of him. He seemed to curl in on himself, Jungkook had noticed, when attention was on him.
“I haven’t been honest either,” Namjoon admitted. If Jin looked embarrassed, Namjoon seemed ashamed. “I think I was maybe… playing it safe rather than saying how I really felt, and that put a lot of pressure on Jungkook.”
Jin’s ears were bright red. Jungkook had the urge to call him cute, and was only snapped out of his stupor because both Jin and Namjoon were looking at him intently. “W-what do you mean?”
Namjoon didn’t say anything, but Jin straightened up a little and tilted his head to the side like he was searching for words. He looked so lost Jungkook wanted to stop and comfort him, like he usually would, but he knew that they needed to talk as well.
“I mean, um, well, Jungkook-ah’s been very vulnerable lately, with us. You know,” Jin tried. “I wasn’t sure of how to respond when…”
Jungkook realized it then—as much as Namjoon and Jin had relied on him in the past and recognized this, they didn’t plan on stopping now. Beside him, Namjoon’s hand kept twitching toward him like he longed to touch, and Jin kept licking his lips like he wanted to say something.
“I think I know what you mean,” Jungkook said. “Okay—just—give me a minute, I got this.”
“No, JK, you don’t have to—”
“I want to be together with you,” Jungkook blurted. He took a deep breath, regrouped, stopping himself from looking at the faces of his hyungduel, and added, “I want to be together with both of you.”
Jin was silent. He kept looking at Jungkook, his eyes maybe a little more soft, but his expression unreadable. Namjoon let out a sigh, breathy in his throat almost like a whine, and Jungkook couldn’t tell if he was upset or not.
“If you both will have me, I want to work something out,” Jungkook continued. “But only if it’s the three of us. I tried choosing but I—I couldn’t do it. So if it’s all three, I’m—interested. In talking. Seriously.”
Namjoon still looked numb, but Jungkook saw him mouth the words, “I agree.”
Jungkook, though, was still surprised by the calmness of his own voice.
He’d practiced his speech in the mirror thousands of times, not expecting that he would ever actually have the courage to give it.
“And I, I would understand if, ah, you, Namjoonie-hyung and Jin-hyung, wanted to be together just the two of you, because I feel so, so selfish, but—”
“No,” they said at the same time, Namjoon’s voice strangled and Jin’s cracking on the word. Jin looked over to Namjoon and then sat back, letting him speak first.
“I’m the same as you, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon admitted quietly, and Jungkook realized in that moment that, while he’d thought a lot about his own feelings for Namjoon and Jin and what they thought of him, he hadn’t thought a lot about what their feelings must be.
His second thought was much warmer: oh, Namjoonie-hyung likes me, too.
“I’ve thought a lot about it, too,” Jin said. Momentarily, he sounded like he was going to cry, and Jungkook instinctively reached across the table for his hands. Jin smiled a little at him, squeezed them, and then let go. “I thought, also… about choosing. And about how I’ve been treating you, Jungkook-ah. I can’t rightfully ask what I want from you without apologizing first. I’m truly sorry.”
“Hyung, I’m sorry, too.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry, though,” Jin said. He leaned across the table, and this time it felt a little more like he just wanted to be closer to Jungkook. “You’re perfect. And you, Namjoon-ah. Yes, please, smile for me…”
He wants both of us he wants both of us he wants both of us.
“So, um, if we’re going to do this,” Namjoon said, “we need to….”
“Set boundaries,” Jin said, “be clear about our feelings.”
“Do research,” Jungkook added. “I sort of—sort of started. Just so I—would have something to say today.”
“Me too,” Namjoon said.
“I think we need… to sit down together and expand on that, but yes. I did also,” Jin said “So…”
“Let’s make a list,” Namjoon said. “If we’re going to do this—are—are we going to do this?”
“We’re going to do this, if Kook—”
“We’re going to do this,” Jungkook confirmed.
Namjoon smiled, and oh, there were his dimples, and Jin looked a little satisfied, and a little proud.
“Do you have a pen?” Jungkook asked. “I don’t want to forget anything.”
Jin and Namjoon laughed at him when he ended up having to go up to a family and their child and asked if he could borrow a crayon. They looked at him a little funny, but Jungkook returned to his seat with a blue crayon and attached himself against Namjoon’s side, because he looked like he needed a hug and Jungkook couldn’t resist him any longer.
Namjoon’s legs were tangled with Jin’s under the table, and they were looking at each other as though they were sickeningly in love, and even though there was much they needed to talk about, Jungkook felt light, so light, and happy underneath his adrenaline. Jungkook had nothing else to write on, so at the top of his napkin, he drew a large smiley face, and Namjoon giggled when the napkin ripped from the force of the crayon.
“So,” Jin said, “what do we need?”
“Communication,” Namjoon said. “More than anything.”
“Trust,” Jungkook added, “honestly.”
“We have to support each other as a team,” Jin said. “And—and the moment anyone feels felt out, we talk.”
“The moment anything feels off, or strange, we talk,” Namjoon corrected.
“I like that,” Jungkook said, “a lot.”
This chaos was one of the most pleasant things Jungkook had ever experienced. They continued coming up with ideas, easier and more seamless than Jungkook could ever have imagined it would be, He’d always known that they were, more or less, on the same page, but time had gone by in which they hadn’t fully communicated this, because it simply hadn’t been necessary. Jungkook wrote happily on his napkin, small words and phrases, until he couldn’t keep up with their pace and he drew more smiley faces and little galaxies around his words and attempted a puppy in the bottom right corner, and Namjoon couldn’t stop grinning at him.
As easy as words came to Jungkook, the conversation itself wasn't perfect or easy—starting with steering it away from their happy monologue of positive, easy points, to the deeper discussions they needed to have; Jungkook could never be afraid of what Namjoon and Jin would think of him because they’d seen him at his best and worst, but messing up here and now could influence the new changes.
Jungkook licked his lips, and, finally, he said, “Boundaries.”
There was a little pause that followed, but not an unpleasant one—a thoughtful one. Namjoon scooted a little closer to Jungkook and wrapped his arms around his waist, and Jungkook made a little happy noise in the back of his throat. Jin watched on, smiling with his eyes more than the curve of his mouth.
From here, Jungkook could feel how fast Namjoon’s heart was beating, and it was comforting, more than most words could have been, feeling that Namjoon was just as excited and nervous as he was.
“Our friendship should always come before this,” Jin started. “You both are too important to me to lose you because we got caught up in something minor. Not that something that little should ever change something so important.”
“I don’t want to lose either of you, ever,” Namjoon said, and Jungkook nodded.
“And I don’t really know how to ask for this, but… I think it should always be all three of us. If anything new happens… we need all three,” Jin said. “If that’s… if that’s okay.”
“Yes, I agree,” Namjoon said.
“Me too.”
“Jungkook-ah?” Jin said. “You’re okay, right?”
Jungkook nodded and broke out into a small, happy, smile. “I’m okay—good—great, actually…”
“Namjoon-ah?”
“I feel… really good, hyung.”
Boundaries involved more discussion, and there were points at which none of them had a solution. They weren’t perfect, but they were better than they had been, and it was like a dream. At some point the tension in Jin’s shoulders eased and he relaxed; at some point Namjoon loosened his tight hold on Jungkook, but didn’t let go of him. Namjoon’s hand lingered on his thigh, and it was just—nice. Jungkook sat up a little straighter in his seat and rested his hand over Namjoon’s. He doesn’t want to leave me.
“And remember that we can and should talk about all of this again,” Jin pointed out, as he was signing the bill. “Everything we’ve talked about and everything we will talk about. If any of us aren’t sure of something or want more or want something to change. Or if we just feel like it.”
“Especially since this is new,” Namjoon said. “I know I… sort of, sometimes, feel like a bother for needing to talk through things all the time, but… we have to. Reading online is one thing, but we don’t know what we're doing.”
“Listening and understanding each other is easy,” Jungkook said. “The hard part is starting the discussion in the first place.”
There was a beat of silence, of satisfaction. Jungkook swallowed hard and, in a fleeting moment of bravery nearly overshadowed by guilt, asked, “One more thing, um… Is there anything we should clarify about, like… what we should be allowed to do with each other when not all three of us are together?”
Jin and Namjoon looked at each other, both at a loss. Jin spoke first, but haltingly, unsure of himself. “I… honestly don’t know, since our situation is… difficult.”
“I think we’re going to have to talk about this more later,” Jungkook said. “Not because, like—it’s not that I don’t want to, but we don’t really know how…”
“I don’t think a lot will change,” Jin said. “Not at first. And before making any big decisions, or moving forward at all with anything, I think—”
“We’ll talk,” Namjoon said, and it sounded like a promise. “All three of us.”
“I think it’s a part of trust,” Jungkook whispered, wanting to be heard but also scared of it, but both Namjoon and Jin looked at him and nodded and it felt better than he’d feared it would feel.
Their discussion wrapped up easily, with the agreement to continue talking. They had a long way to go. Jungkook wasn’t sure of how much more he could think about when he was so happy, and had maybe gotten what he wanted but was also felt so calm. He wasn’t sure. He felt pleasantly numb, as though he was in a dream, when they walked back to Jin’s car, Jungkook’s hand perfectly fitting into Jin’s grasp and one of Namjoon’s hands on his shoulder.
Jungkook hadn’t thought about what it would be like to part with them afterwards. He looked from Namjoon to Jin, a little desperately, and made no effort to disentangle himself from them.
“Hey,” Namjoon said, and his lips were so close to Jungkook’s ear that he shivered. He pressed his chest against Jungkook’s back, just a fleeting touch, and Jungkook leaned back against him slightly, the desire to feel more of him instinctual. “Do you think you might want to come home with Jin-hyung and I and keep talking for a little bit? I… don’t really want this to end.”
“It won’t end,” Jungkook said, and he felt warm, warm, warm. He turned around to hug Namjoon properly, putting his head on his shoulder and letting Namjoon play with his hair. “Not even when I go home. Okay?”
“Okay,” Namjoon breathed. “Yeah, that’s good.”
Jungkook offered to drive, but Jin insisted on doing it himself when he saw how shaky Jungkook’s hands still were. Jungkook hadn’t even noticed it himself. He was pacified, though, when he got to sit next to Jin in the front and when Namjoon reached forward from the back to play lazily with Jungkook’s hand, tracing along the lines of his palm and his fingers.
And Jin, of course, let Jungkook control the music, because he was perfect.
Jungkook hadn’t expected it to feel different, exactly, but it felt as though nothing had changed when he walked into Namjoon and Jin’s apartment with Namjoon trailing behind him. The atmosphere was a little strange, maybe, but it a bad different. Jungkook’s chest tightened painfully when he thought about it too hard, but he was okay, because even now, at least for now, nothing was expected of him.
“Want something to drink, JK? Joon-ah?” Jin asked. Namjoon shook his head, and Jungkook hesitated before doing the same. He followed Jin into the living room, a little slower now, and Namjoon passed him. Jin sat down with a sigh, Namjoon on the other end of the couch, and Jungkook looked anxiously between both of them.
“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon said, “What would you do normally?”
It was as though a barrier had been broken between them. Jungkook sat down between them and leaned down until his head was in Namjoon’s lap and his legs were across Jin’s. Namjoon’s hands instinctively came down to run through his hair, and Jungkook hummed in contentment.
“I’m so glad it’s you,” he mumbled. He closed his eyes and turned his head into Namjoon’s thigh. “I’m so happy, hyung.”
“We’re happy too,” Namjoon whispered.
“It scares me a lot,” Jungkook said, even quieter, “the thought of being with people who don’t understand me. Or who won’t listen to me.”
“I’m sorry that anyone has ever made you feel that way,” Jin said, and he sighed softly. “I want to make it up to you.”
“I think I’d think like that even if nobody ever had,” Jungkook admitted. He exhaled shakily. “I don’t… it’s kind of… Feeling like this, it’s… hard for me?” He looked up to see Namjoon about to respond, and panicked. “That’s not what I mean,” he interrupted. “I think it’s probably hard for everyone, but I can’t—I don’t usually feel—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself if you don’t want to,” Namjoon said, his voice low and soothing and familiar and comforting and wonderful. He scratched his nails along Jungkook’s scalp, and Jungkook felt his eyes fall shut again. “Only if you want to, Kook, I know the words are hard.”
“I don’t really know how to describe it,” Jungkook said. “I just… there’s no term for it. It’s like… you just know who I am… You know what I want. And if… if I want something, I just have to ask and it’s okay for me to ask.”
“Jungkook,” Jin said, and even though it was only one word, it sounded like a command. Jungkook sat up as much as he could bring himself to, his weight against Namjoon’s chest. “Is there anything you want now?”
Jungkook could imagine all the things he wanted. He wanted everything: he wanted to hold his hand, their hands, and drag them along on cute dates, he wanted to kiss him, he wanted to tangle his fingers in his hair and pull, he wanted to kiss along his neck and lower, and leave marks that would always remind Jin of him, he wanted to sing to him, he wanted Jin to sing to him, he wanted to fill his phone with pictures of him, he wanted to cook for him, he wanted to wake up beside him the next morning and every day after, he wanted to protect him, he wanted to love him.
“I want to feel you,” was what he ended up saying, and was placated because this was only the beginning.
“Yeah?” Jin said, a little playful now. “Where do you want to feel me?”
“You—you—your—” Jungkook sat up a little more and began chewing on his bottom lip in frustration.
“You can show me,” Jin said, an invitation, and Jungkook gravitated to him like a magnet. He sat up off of Namjoon’s lap and scooted himself into Jin’s. Jin’s hands immediately found his waist, and Jungkook placed one hand around the back of his neck.
He looked into Jin’s eyes as he brushed his thumb across his bottom lip and whispered, “You’re beautiful.”
Jin’s eyes were wide as he looked up at Jungkook. “Thank you, Jungkook-ah. You mean it?”
“Of course,” Jungkook said. “Makes me wanna…”
“What do you want?” Jin asked. He leaned closer. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you.”
Jungkook pressed his thumb into Jin’s lip again, and Jin’s eyelashes fluttered, and then Jungkook moved his hand to the side of his face. Jungkook tilted his head, just a bit, and swallowed hard, more nervous now, and unsure of himself.
“I want it, too,” Jin said, and Jungkook watched, heart racing as he licked his lips.
“Can you—” Jungkook shifted in Jin’s lap to bring himself closer to Jin, so close their chests were touching. “C-can you, will you, kiss me?”
“Baby, all you have to do is ask,” Jin said, his voice deep, deep, deep, and Jungkook’s back went strait and he melted all at once. “You like that?’
“I-I think—um…”
Jin laughed, but not unkindly, and Jungkook could imagine a dozen scenarios in which someone else laughing the same way could be threatening. “You want this?”
Jungkook closed his eyes and let the feel of the words wash over him. I want this, I want this, I want this, he repeated back to himself. He nodded.
“Go ahead, baby,” Jin said. “Take what you want.”
Jungkook thought that it would be hard. It wasn’t. He closed the gap between them and kissed him.
Jin kissed him back softly, delicately, sweetly. His thumbs traced careful circles onto his hips. Jungkook kissed him back haltingly, unsure of himself, but Jin leaned back and pulled Jungkook closer and Jungkook relaxed. They parted briefly for air, but Jungkook kissed him again, and again, chastely, but until he was shaking and breathless. He could feel Jin smiling against his lips and he pulled away, overwhelmed, and buried his face in Jin’s shoulder.
Don’t think too hard don’t think too hard don’t think too hard or you’ll never feel this relaxed again.
Jungkook heard Jin laugh a little breathlessly, and he hugged Jungkook. Jungkook adjusted his grip across Jin’s shoulders, but didn’t say anything or look over at Namjoon, trying to quell his racing heartbeat.
If you think it’ll be over and then it might not feel good anymore.
“Jungkookie-ah?” Jin said. “Was that good for you?”
He’s worried. What if he’s worried that I didn’t like it? What if he feels like he’s not good enough?
“It was good for me,” Jungkook said, “so good, hyung.” He didn’t resist the urge to press one last kiss to the corner of Jin’s mouth. “I could do that all day.”
“I could watch you all day,” Namjoon said. He was blushing when Jungkook met his eyes. “Not like that, but—I like seeing you happy.”
“Namjoon-hyung.”
“Yeah.”
“I wanna make you happy the way I made Jin happy, too,” Jungkook said.
Namjoon grinned shyly and hid his face in his hands, and his smile was so infectious that Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from smiling too. Yeah, you got this. Focus on the good and you’ll make him feel good, and you’ll see him smile again and then you'll feel good.
Kissing Namjoon was something a little more complicated than kissing Jin. Jin’s teasing was taunting, frustrating Jungkook’s so that he could think of nothing else but kissing him. Namjoon’s teasing was pulling away at the last second, batting his eyelashes, and looking at Jungkook so soulfully he felt as though he was laid bare in truth in front of him. It made Jungkook wonder what he really wanted, and a second later think, him, him, him, all I’ll ever need is him.
Jungkook pressed their foreheads together. Namjoon’s lips parted, and they both leaned in.
Namjoon stopped. Their noses brushed, and Jungkook could feel Namjoon’s breath across his lips. “Can I kiss you?” Namjoon asked.
“Please kiss me,” Jungkook said, and his desire overruled his anxiety as he met Namjoon halfway.
Namjoon kissed the way he spoke: carefully, thoughtfully, methodically. He kissed like he wanted to know what Jungkook liked best, and Jungkook knew that he did; he kissed like he wanted to take Jungkook apart and put him back together as a happier version of himself.
(Maybe Jungkook was being dramatic, or he was definitely dramatic, but his head was in the clouds and he couldn’t think straight and he couldn’t feel anything but what Namjoon offered him.)
There was too much to process at once, so Jungkook gave up and allowed himself to enjoy the moment. He deepened the angle of the kiss and pulled Namjoon closer, heart still fluttering, but more confident now, confident enough.
It was Namjoon who eventually pulled away, but Jungkook lingered, eyes closed, panting a little. Namjoon’s smile was big and bright when Jungkook opened his eyes. Namjoon asked, “How do you feel?”
“Wonderful, but… it’s hard to explain.”
“What is it like?” Jin asked. “You can describe it.”
“It’s like I feel safe,” Jungkook said. With this realization, he felt light, and so happy. “I feel safe with you, both of you. It was good with Jin, but I still…”
He could see himself growing old and wealthy with them, he could imagine growing successful without them leaving him. He could imagine entrusting himself to them, physically and emotionally, and he would be okay no matter what happened. It was everything he’d had with them but a little more, a little closer.
“I owe you kisses then,” said Jin. “So you remember it being good.”
“I already will, but I’m not objecting,” Jungkook said, and this time, when Jin kissed him, it was a little easier.
And the next time, it was even easier, and easier, and easier.