Chapter Text
You had never planned to be wrapped up in Jungkook’s arms, straddling him on your living room sofa. You especially didn’t expect all your friends to be present, hooting and hollering. You’d actually planned for someone else to be in this very position. You’d wanted to be the one hooting and hollering. Yet, you could definitely feel your bare legs sinking into the old leather, feeling scratchy against the rips in Jungkook’s jeans. And it was definitely his arm, palm splayed out on your back, supporting you there.
And yet, staring down into his big, Bambi eyes, you begin to realize how you got here, and that it was absolutely inevitable that your arms would be wrapping around his neck, fingers threading through his hair.
“Hey,” he stutters out, eyes flickering between yours.
“Hey,” you whisper back.
3 Months Earlier
“Is it true?” a slurred, snot-filled voice bellows through your voice piece. You hadn’t checked the caller ID, but you were already sure who was calling.Typing away the same five comments to the tragic reading responses for one of the two freshman-writing classes you’ve been stuck with. This late in the evening, most of your “colleagues” have vacated the premises. But that’s why you are here. At this time of day, the cramped office feels like it’s all yours, the aura of your little desk expanding with the music you can now play at an audible volume, the beat subtly influencing the amount of sass that comes out each time you write “but how?” to another student commenting “the story was good”.
“Is what true, Jungkook?” You ask while tapping out yet another “ yes, but how? ” on the reading response. Usually, you stay until the work is done. But tonight, you are already expecting to be cut short. And your assumptions literally rang true around 8pm when your phone started demanding to be answered.
“Is JiEun really with Inna?” this statement was even harder to make out than the first. The awkward muffling must be a sleeve wiping at his nose. “Why is the world so cruel? I didn’t even get my chance!”
Sighing, you switch the phone to speaker as you close your current gradebook and pack up things on your desk. “First of all, she’s gay. Second of all, you have had plenty of chances. A plethora, if you will.”
“Kick me while I’m down, why don’t you?” -sniff- “I could’ve been the one! I could have convinced her?” You hold back your comment on toxic masculinity and wait for him to continue. “I mean, I didn’t say that. I’m trash. I’ve failed. Failed for life. Good at everything but the most important thing.” You could almost hear him rolling around on the bed.
“Okay, what flavor am I picking up this time?” You had been waiting on this call all day. Ji Eun told you her new relationship was going to be made public today, so you’d saved your calories for the inevitable banana split dip-and-dots. Locking the door to the office, you begin your trek to the other side of off-campus housing.
The headphone cord twirls in your fingers as you walk out of the building you’d first met Jungkook in. Freshman English, which you, he, and Ji Eun all had at the disgusting time of 8 am. Of course, Jungkook took it as a student, and you and Ji Eun had been fortunate enough to be shafted the 8am slot for an honors TAship. Now, you TA two similar classes in the afternoon, the power of seniority getting you a much better deal. But back then, you and Jungkook shared the same motivation for going to class-- Ji Eun.
You’d had one or two classes with her, were familiar with her ability to sway men and women, just like Jungkook and you. As TAs, you spent much more time together, which you initial welcomed eagerly with free coffees and personal study rooms. She thought you were funny and you thought she was… adorable. How her response to anything is a smile, only the scrunching, creasing, or raising of her eyebrows letting you know which smile you are getting. The little laugh she has when someone compliments her for the millionth time, rehearsed but sweet. Ji Eun is one of those girls who would be mistaken as a teenager well into her 30s.
Just like Jungkook and his baby face, which had remained despite the steroid-level muscle increase his body had endured during sophomore year. Jungkook managed to stand out as the only student who took advantage of your joint office hours (your suggestion in the initial failed attempts of trying to be around her as much as possible). He would come and muster up the courage to speak to you, but never Ji Eun. Thus, you and Jungkook grew closer and Ji Eun would smile sweetly as she’d listen to your conversations, eventually realizing Jungkook didn’t hate her-- he was infatuated by her.
It was hard to hide, the way he stuttered any time she offered her own comments on the homework or an assignment-- Jungkook’s only excuses to appear outside of class. Taking pity on him, you both had asked him to join you for lunch after an unnecessarily long explanation for the homework Jungkook demanded, finally conceding to his demands to be around Ji Eun. Tragically for Jungkook, she had been called away shortly after ordering your meals. Even more tragically, you’d taken advantage of the chance to corner Jungkook.
“Give up, boy,” You had said through a mouthful of Subway sandwich. You will never forget the competitive glint that somehow shined through his utter embarrassment. He seemed more taken aback by your sudden lack of formality, something that stood in stark contrast to your teacher assistant persona.
“Excuse me?” Jungkook had responded quietly.
“I’mma let you in on a little secret,” you leaned in, waving him closer. Jungkook seemed to hesitate but leaned in regardless. “If Ji Eun isn’t gonna date me, she’s sure as hell not gonna date you, kid.”
The wheels in Jungkook’s mind had turned incredibly slowly. That was the day you and Jungkook became Eskimo-crush-buddies, and the beginning of Jungkook’s short-lived mission of “I can change her!” Thankfully, Namjoon had put a stop to that, who you met a couple of months later, along with your new roommates. Since then, Jungkook had managed to wiggle his way into you and Ji Eun’s life. Especially when Ji Eun came to your new-apartment-situation-warming party and managed to find more ways to hang out with you all whenever Hobi’s sister would bring her best friend Inna around.
Walking across campus these days starts to pull on your heartstrings. When you’re not on autopilot, you find yourself reminiscing about what the campus looked like six years ago, when you weren’t even going to the school but dating someone there. The school had expanded just as quickly as your impression on life, the years of your late teens and early 20s filled with and morphed by the landscape of experience and memories. A whole half of the campus was still a vacant shopping strip off the highway, reserved specifically for smoking weed rather than smoking chemistry projects.
Now, you head towards the student health center creeping out between the wiser buildings of the campus, decrepit but filled with the successes and failures of those before you. A campus garden is across the street from you, with various gravel paths leading down a slope that takes you around the world in the form of senior projects from the agricultural and architectural departments. You remember when you and Ji Eun had first sat in the Japanese garden, and she’d pointed out all the plants by name. Jungkook had sat in awe, his roommates nearby, too scared to sit close to you while the smell of marijuana tempted the security guards near the dorms.
Stopping in the small Grab-N-Go shop on the edge of campus, you pick up at least three servings of the banana split dip-n-dots, prepared for the evening of woe. Up a hill outside the store is the tiny neighborhood that is filled with houses well beyond their prices, due to the continuous battles of college students to find their own home right off campus. Somehow Namjoon and Hobi had managed to secure a house from previous friends and teammates. But you walk right on passed in order to pick up the desperately needed ice cream at the 7-eleven around the corner before turning out back down the hill to the little home, if you could call it such a thing.
“Hey, New Girl,” Namjoon says when he opens the door. New Girl- his joke (which only he finds funny) for you and your roommate situation. Being friends with Jungkook had added you to their mixmashed friend group, and two of his friends happened to need a roommate. Everyone had briefly joked that you were living the sitcom New Girl. Namjoon hadn’t let go of the nickname. He’s already dressed in his usual baggy sweats and a sweater that extends long beyond his hands, a sweater-paw gripping the doorknob. You grimace and walk passed him.
“Jungkook!” you shout, “Ice cream delivery.”
“Yah! You’d shout in someone else’s home?” Hobi grunts from the couch. He’s playing another one of those fighter games, legs strewn across the couch casually, yet shoulders hunched and fingers jammed with stress.
“Spoons,” you hear an elevated whine call out before you can give a retort. Turning to the open kitchen, Namjoon already holds out two spoons.
With a quick nod, you head to Jungkook’s room to find him sitting on the floor in front of his bed, staring at his phone. His head is propped between both knees, fully exposed through the many rips in his jeans.
“It’s all over!” he whines, tilting his blotchy face towards you, eyes swollen and mouth parted to breathe through his snotty sadness. Holding the phone up towards you, you trade him the ice cream. “Ji Eun is in a relationship with Yoo In Na” the Facebook notification reads.
“I’m still impressed you made it far enough to become Facebook friends.” Jungkook makes to jab at your shin. “Well, Kook, she is a lesbian. There was no beginning for anything to be over,” you shrug to the floor, plopping next to him and throwing your bag on the bed.
Jungkook eats the ice cream, beginning his usual rant of how beautiful JiEun is, how he should be happy because she deserves everything. Nodding and sighing when needed, you heard the same speech for the hundredth time, only this time it had a bit more finality to it. You couldn’t tell him, but you were happy it was over. This incessant crush of three years hadn’t brought him any closer to her, but much closer to you.
His lack of attraction to you (rude) had made you a confidant, and in the beginning, it was mutual. But you’d quickly gotten over your crush, yet Jungkook had never moved on. Maybe it was because you actually got to know JiEun, her obnoxious meticulousness, the impossible nighttime routine she had even when sleeping over, and the god awful snoring that last for hours. In all of college, JiEun had been dating books, so Jungkook never had the harsh smack of reality to put him into gear or take him out of the race. This was probably what Jungkook needed. The healing would begin.
You stay with Jungkook until he calms down. At some point, you’d moved to his bed and watched some cheesy firefighter romance on his computer, him saying how he was supposed to be that guy for her and you jabbing jokes here and there.
After Jungkook was ready to pass out, you bid goodbye.
“Hey,” Jungkook calls from his place curled up on the bed. You turn at the door, looking at how small he appeared on the bed. His black shirt had him blending in with the comforter, and with his knees tucked so tight, you feel another wave of pity hit you. “Thanks. I know it’s annoying, but, you know, thanks…” He gives a forced smile, then pulls his beanie down over his eyes to hide his embarrassment, somehow forgetting you’d just watched him sniffle for nearly three hours. You give a small smile and a nod as you walk out. Your witty comments are misplaced for now.
Walking into the living room, Hobi is still on his console with a different game. Namjoon is in the kitchen, inspecting microwave dinner instructions.
“Don’t blow it up again” you tease.
“Hey, I don’t live with a chef; I do my best!” Namjoon shot back. He throws the food in the microwave.
Namjoon and Hobi had been Jungkook’s older brother’s roommates. Jungkook moved in when his older brother moved out. Kook revered Namjoon, his older brother’s “cool” best friend, but you couldn’t see it. Now Hobi, he could be impressive. His ability to remain so lazy yet so energetic never ceased to amaze you. He spent all day dancing, then all night gaming. All the time shouting and laughing and cheering. In the last two years, you still haven’t seen him sleeping.
“He studied abroad one semester in Italy and now he’s a chef,” you exasperate, still knowing there was ribeye with cream sauce in your own fridge.
“Whatever,” after typing numbers, Namjoon sits on the counter. His arms flex as he pulls himself onto the counter, and you stare absentmindedly at the delicateness of his fingers that lay in contrast to the veins running up his arms. Namjoon clenches his arms twice, and you look up at his eyes, unabashed at being caught. “So, how’s the kid, New Girl?”
Grabbing a chair at the island, you let out a long sigh. “I think the time has finally come for Kook to get a girl. An attainable one,” you add on.
“Can finally go after him yourself?” Hobi shouts from the couch before shouting at his game. You roll your eyes as you pretend to roll your whole body out of the chair. You had been the first girl Jungkook ever brought over, and Hobi is convinced you are the older lover he needs.
“It’s true,” Namjoon adds. “The time has come to break the walls of the friendzone and date a man, one who understands why you’re living with his best friends.”
“Ha. Ha.” You lean back in your chair, arms crossed.
“Are we taking bets? Is this happening?” Hobi calls.
“He’s just a friend,” you interrupt the impending bidding war. Namjoon tries again with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “A friend.” you emphasize. That’s your cue to leave.
The walk to your apartment is an easy hike from Jungkook’s. The university, which you all attend, is surrounded by off campus housing due to the outrageous prices they charge to live on-campus. Not that off-campus is any cheaper. You’d lucked out, though, due to Jungkook’s friends desperately needing to curb their own rent.
“How’s the kid?” Yoongi asks shortly after you shove the door open. Your heart leaps out of your chest at his voice. Looking up from your bent over position to take your shoes off, you see two scrawny legs attached to a pear of socks covered in teddy bear faces. Rarely is Yoongi out of his room, especially this late at night. You must have caught him at the right moment, because his hands were full with a bowl of cereal and a beer. He apparently also didn’t expect to be caught, because he lightly shuffles his lower half out of view, cute little bear faces staring back at you from his boxers as well.
“I’m great, thanks,” you mutter, tossing your shoes into the growing pile. You fall onto your own couch, mirroring the position Hobi is probably still sitting in.
“I didn’t ask about you,” Yoongi says with a smart tone. “Hobi already told me what happened.” God, Yoongi and his Hobi-hardon.
“Then why are you asking me?” you whine, rolling over to try and find the remote.
“Jin has it,” Yoongi calls as he wanders back into his room. You whine again, Jin’s name echoing through the apartment and probably up to your neighbors.
“Yoongi kept trying to change the channel! Disrespectful. As the oldest here, we watch what I want when I want,” Jin marches out of his room and slaps the remote into your hand, already negating his prior declaration. You latch onto his wrist before he can turn away. Holding it with both your hands, you stare up at him with your best pout, tucking your elbows in to look extra perky.
“Is there food to spare in the fridge?” You ask sweetly. Jin looks away, only to show the redness of his ears.
“Christ, and you wanna talk about feminism?” He grumbles, but still nods and turns back to his room. You snicker, remote in hand and snacks awaiting you. “Maybe you should try that shit on Jungkook.”
“FRIEND!” You shout, turning on the TV to block everyone’s innate concerns around you. Friend.
The healing process takes longer to begin than expected. You find yourself at Jungkook’s place three days in a row. His little grubby face staring up at you, saying he can’t even do his English elective homework because it reminds him of Ji Eun. He even has a drunken episode where he calls up a friend asking how to dress in drag in a last but utterly pathetic attempt to make himself a suitor for Ji Eun.
A few days was understandable, but a week? Two weeks? You aren’t having it. The amount of times you received texts from Namjoon saying “send help plz” was starting to drive you over the moon. When Jungkook refused the invite to come to your house party because Ji Eun would be there, you’d had it. Hobi tried to pester Kook into joining, but instead his shockingly deflated ego crumbled to the floor right there.
“Where’s the kid?” Yoongi shouts from the couch when Namjoon and Hobi walk in. He’s saddled up nicely, legs spread wide and arms slung over the edge of the couch, unaware he’s taking up at least three people’s possible seats that are leaning against the wall. He shakes his beer in light circles absentmindedly, already knowing the answer to his question.
“Clinging to his bed demanding he’s found one challenge he can’t and refuses to meet,” Hobi laughs. As he walks towards y’all, Yoongi scoots over and brings his legs in, keeping his arms draped over the couch as Hobi plops down next to him. If you could call it plopping. Hobi was too graceful to use such a word. Joon waits for Yoongi to move over more, but Yoongi just stares at him blankly, handing Hobi his beer.
“And?” You continue from your perch on the arm rest. Joon grumbles as he moves over to lean on the other side of the couch, a stranger handing him a beer. You crane your neck towards your kitchen, wondering how other people suddenly started handing at your beer in your house. You’d never been much of a party person, but it seemed to come with the property. What was usually the six of you hanging out escalated into everyone bringing one or two friends, and suddenly there are thirty people in the small space.
“I thought I was going to break the bed post!” Joon shouts, throwing his hands up in exasperation, almost sloshing beer to the floor. You roll yours eyes, but could see Jungkook’s killer thighs crushing the bedpost in protest.
“We gotta talk,” you sigh, crossing your arms.
“Yeah, mom and dad gotta solve this situation,” Hobi bursts out laughing. You quirk an eyebrow at him and can almost feel Joon roll his eyes beside you. “You know,” Hobi continues, “Joon’s like his ideal dad, and you’re always over taking care of him.” You and Joon continue to stare at Hobi. “Right, well, Yoongi, let’s go somewhere else.”
Yoongi doesn’t even nod as he jumps to his feet. You slide off your perch onto the new open space of the couch and Joon plops down beside you, nowhere near as graceful as Hobi’s previous plop.
“Hey mom,” Joon says. You shove his shoulder. “Real talk, this is fucking ridiculous.” Joon plays with the bottle in his hand. “We all know Jungkook is a sore loser, but this is pretty bad. I don’t think it’s just Ji Eun, I think he can’t handle that he lost to himself as well. He’s still so nervous around girls. And with a face like that. What a loser,” Joon takes a swig of his beer.
You look over at him for a second, his eyebrows drawn in making him look cute rather than pensive. You couldn’t help the smile creeping on your face, finding his concern for Jungkook cute. His eyes dart over to you real quick, then he pulls at his beanie, shrugging.
“I mean, you wouldn’t be the worst rebound,” Jin’s voice rings out behind you as his elbow knocks the back of your neck. He’d returned from his rounds of marking X’s on all the minors hands in case the cops showed up. As you turn to face him, you catch a glimpse of Ji Eun sitting in In Na’s lap. They’d come in with Hobi’s sister, but now they seemed to have abandoned any awareness that a party was happening around them as the atmosphere of honeymoon phase surrounded them like a forcefield. Maybe it was a good thing Jungkook hadn’t come.
“Wow thanks,” you mutter, grabbing the sharpie and trying to jab it back at Jin.
“Hobi is still taking bets,” Namjoon teases, and you manage to catch a streak of sharpie up his arm, sleeves safe from danger around his elbows. You huff and cap the sharpie, dodging Jin’s attempt to take it back.
“I’m serious! I’m proposing operation get Jungkook a girl!” You shout, pointing the sharpie resolutely in the air.
“The best way to get over someone is to get under someone,” Jin nods. Wise advice as always.
“That’s a thesis-level project there. Turning our little Kookie into a man,” Namjoon laughs. His smile is wide as he leans back on his elbow on the couch, properly facing you and Jin. You don’t miss the slight raise of his eyebrows at the lesbian showdown happening behind you three.
“Well, I’m the only one with a thesis here, so how ‘bout it?” You look between the two boys, who look at each other for a second. Jin wiggles his eyebrows at Namjoon who just stares back. Eventually, they high five and Jin lifts himself from the couch. “I’ll go tell Yoongles and Hobi. We convene at sunrise. Operation Get-Jung-Sprung begins.”
You both watch as Jin walks off. “That was probably his worst pun yet,” Namjoon sighs.
“Punny or not, Kook’s gettin’ a girl by the end of this semester, mark my words,” you bring your beer to your lips, eyeing Ji Eun and In Na, happy in love, sizing up the competition for Jungkook’s heart.