Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The feeling of the unicorn’s snout tickles as the pretty pink animal grazes on the fruit in Jungkook’s hand, and the sensation makes him chuckle. 

“You have a lovely laugh,” the fairy with the blue hair and mischievous grin whispers in his ear, floating just above his left shoulder. 

“Thank you; I get it from my dad, I suppose,” Jungkook tells him. 

Beep. 

Beep. 

Beep. 

Jungkook turns, startled by the obnoxious sound. 

“Do you hear that?” he questions. 

“Hear what?” the unicorn looks up, throwing the question back at him. 

“That horrible beeping sound,” he replies, looking around to find the source of the disruption. 

“I don’t hear anything,” the unicorn tells him. “But you have fed me grapes and strawberries from the Garden of Hope and have brought back my will to fly. You, Jeon Jungkook, shall be the first to ride my back.” 

“Ride your back,” Jungkook repeats slowly, the words stirring up an image he’s quite sure the unicorn did not intend. 

“Yes. You shall be the first of many riders—” 

Beep.  

Beep.  

Beep.  

“Morning Seoul, here’s what to expect on your commute this morning—”  

“What the fuck,” Jungkook groans, shaking his head. “You  really  don’t hear that?” 

“What?” the unicorn looks up, eyes wide. “Get on my back, Jungkook. Let us ride fast and hard into the distance.” 

Why does everything sound so dirty?  Jungkook wonders as he stares at the magical creature. 

The fairy with the blue hair reappears, smiling widely, eyes twinkling with glee, staring wickedly at Jungkook as he sprinkles shimmery fairy dust above the unicorn’s head. 

“I know what you want, Jungkook. I know your truest desires,” the fairy says mysteriously. 

Jungkook watches in rapture as the unicorn begins to transform in front of him, body contorting as the animal changes form. Jungkook gasps. 

“Ironm—” 

BEEP.  

BEEP.  

BEEP.  

“Wake up, Seoulites! Here’s an oldie but a goodie from Super Junior to get you going on the right foot.” 

Sorry Sorry begins playing in the background, and just like that, the blue-haired fairy and the Garden of Hope have disappeared, replaced by the relentless blaring of his alarm.  

“Fuck, now I’ll never know what my truest desire is,” Jungkook complains as he groggily opens his eyes then rolls over to hit snooze.  

Dragging himself from his bed to the tiny kitchen of the two-bedroom dormitory apartment he shares with his sometimes enemy but always best friend, Jimin, Jungkook ducks just in time, barely missing the impact of the burnt toast being hurled at him.  

Apparently, they’re enemies today. 

“Do you know how many times you hit snooze on your stupid alarm?” Jimin reprimands. 

“Twice?” Jungkook responds, knowing the question is rhetorical, aware that Jimin hates it the most when people answer questions that aren’t meant to be answered. 

He chuckles when the older boy flips him the bird. 

“Hyung, how could you? I am young and impressionable. Is this really  the example you want to set for me?” 

“Please, you have Seokjin for an older brother. I couldn’t corrupt you any more than he already has if I tried,” Jimin throws back, and Jungkook can’t argue with his logic. 

“Fair,” he agrees, chuckling at Jimin’s scrunched up nose. 

“Seriously though, Kook, ten times. That’s a record, even for you. What the hell were you dreaming about that you didn’t want to wake up?” 

“Ten! Wow, is it wrong that I’m lowkey impressed?” 

“Yes,” Jimin answers immediately. “Now spill.” 

“My truest desire,” his mind responds, recalling bits and pieces of his dream. 

“Oh? Interesting. What is your truest desire, Jeon Jungkook?” Jimin questions, his interest piqued. 

“I don’t know. After the unicorn turned in Ironman, I woke up before the blue-haired fairy could tell me,” he says with a forlorn sigh.  

“Blue-haired fairy, Ironman, and a unicorn? Are you sure you’re straight?” 

Jungkook laughs at his question but doesn’t answer. 

“Pretty sure it was the effect of one too many cups of ramen before bed,” he tells his friend. 

“Or one too many shots before bed,” Jimin retorts with a laugh. 

“Also fair,” Jungkook states with a shake of his head. 

“Wait. It’s before noon, why are you awake?” 

“That’s a great question, Jimin-sshi,” Jungkook starts. This time he’s not quick enough to miss the dish towel that Jimin launches in his direction. 

“Punk, I’m older than you. Show some respect.” 

“Yes, but you’re so small and squishy. It’s easy to forget,” Jungkook remarks with a loud laugh as Jimin tries but fails to give him the evil-eye. “See, even now, you’re just so cute, hyung.” 

“One day I’m going to beat the shit out of you for all this disrespect, but I haven’t had nearly enough coffee for it to be today. Now, why are you awake before noon on a school day?” 

“Because your stupid crush talked me into it,” Jungkook pouts. 

“Taehyung? Apologize, you scoundrel. How dare you call my Taehyungie stupid,” Jimin demands. 

“Your jerk of a crush,” Jungkook continues unscathed, “used his voodoo powers on me, with his boxy smile and his flowery words that make every bad idea sound like the most fantastic thing you’ve ever heard, and talked me into taking a seven AM dance theory lecture.” 

Jungkook should be offended by how loud Jimin’s laughter is. He should grab his tiny older friend and hold him in a headlock until he stops giggling, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Like it or not, Jimin’s mirth at his current situation is warranted. He succumbed to Taehyung’s push, and he signed up for the class. He can only blame himself. But in his defense, Taehyung’s smile is near impossible to say no to. Jimin should know this better than anyone. 

“I don’t mean to laugh,” Jimin states, holding his chest and wiping tears from his eyes. “Tae can be very persuasive, but Kook, you HATE the mornings. Like, you are the worst morning person ever. I don’t see you staying awake for a lecture at seven in the morning. I am genuinely afraid of the things that may come out of your mouth due to a lack of brain activity that early in the morning.” 

Jungkook sighs and peers over at the microwave, seeing the six-fifteen currently blaring back at him.  

“Again, this is all because of your stupid crush. I don’t even have time to enjoy a bowl of cereal with OJ. I need to go shower,” he states dejectedly as he walks out of the kitchen. 

“That’s for the best, cereal and orange juice should never be together. Gross,” he hears Jimin reply as he enters the bathroom. 

Walking across campus gives Jungkook anxiety. He’s not sure how or why his “assumed” reputation proceeds him everywhere he goes. The constant stares and lovelorn sighs are a bit much, especially since he’s done nothing that he can think of to deserve such adoration. He’s known as the Golden Boy, a nickname he did not create and finds burdensome, but one that he will use to his advantage whenever the situation calls for it.  

“Omg, he’s so fine,” Jungkook hears a girl comment as he passes by. 

“I’d smash that until he made me cry, then beg for more,” another says out loud, and Jungkook’s sure her intent was for him to hear. 

Yeah, Jungkook’s not lacking in the random hook-ups department. His social schedule is full, and he spends more time trying to get out of parties and keggers than any red-blooded twenty-year-old should. If truth be known, he’d much rather be in his dorm room sporting sweats and an extra-large white tee, snuggled up with his favorite blanket watching Goonies or Pretty in Pink. That’s not how college works though. People don’t want to know the real him; they only care about their preconceived notions about who he is, and Jungkook’s all about giving the people what they want.  

For his part, Jungkook has learned to play the role of school jock and most wanted man on campus to near perfection. He smiles as he passes the girls and tosses in a mischievous wink for good measure. The move earns him loud gasps and screams of “oh my gosh he noticed me” that follow him all the way into the hall of the Performing Arts building. 

“Dude, you’re here?” Taehyung’s voice accosts him as soon as he walks into the building. 

“You practically strong-armed me into this early morning shit. Why are you acting surprised?” he replies with a bit more venom than intended. 

“What? Strong-armed? I merely suggested that if you were serious about dance, you should put some time into knowing its origins and its intricacies.” 

“Right, you used your voodoo magic with big words like origins and intricacies, and now here I am, at six forty-five in the morning, barely awake and thinking of ways to pay you back for this betrayal,” Jungkook whines with a pout. 

“You will thank me for this later. Mark my words,” Taehyung chuckles, slapping Jungkook on the back as he walks him to class.  

“Shit, he’s friends with Taehyung? How is that even fair?” Someone whispers entirely too loudly as he and Taehyung pass by. 

“I know, right? How are mere mortals meant to function with so much beauty this early in the morning?” 

Taehyung chuckles as Jungkook rolls his eyes.  

“It’s too damn early in the morning for this much adoration,” he grumbles as he opens the door to his class. 

“Be nice,” Taehyung scolds jokingly. “When we’re old and fat, we can sit on our porch yelling at kids to get off our grass and relive our glory days. Anyways, have fun in class, Kook. I’ll catch up with you later.” 

Jungkook enters the auditorium and is immediately surprised by how full the room is. Given the ungodly hour in the morning, Jungkook expects to be the only one in attendance. He takes a seat near the back, chucking his backpack into the seat on his right and his letterman jacket in the one on the left, hoping to deter anyone looking to befriend him this early in the morning. Rummaging through his bookbag, he pulls out a notebook and a pen and readies himself as best he can before the lecture starts.  

A few minutes later, the Professor arrives, and Jungkook chuckles to himself at how apropos the man seems for his position. Tall and distinguished-looking with round glasses that sit right on the bridge of his nose. The man is wearing a tweed jacket with a black Rolling Stones t-shirt underneath; his blue jeans are just the right amount of crushed to be trendy but not untidy, the look complete with black chucks. The man is every eighties movie “cool professor” personified, and Jungkook thinks maybe, just maybe, his seven in the morning class won’t be that bad. 

“Morning all,” the teacher’s deep baritone rings throughout the room. “Thank you all for signing up and forcing me to get up before God intended. I am Professor So Ji-sub, and welcome to Theories of Dance 101. In this course, we will look at the history of dance and see the role it plays in shaping history.” 

Professor So continues giving them an overview of the course and what to expect. Jungkook zones out as the man talks, his mind wandering back to his warm bed, saddened that he is not in it right now. 

“My TA, Jung Hoseok, will be passing out the syllabus. Make sure to pay close attention to due dates. I don’t offer extensions. I’m here to teach you, not baby you. Get your work in on time.” 

Professor So’s tone has Jungkook looking up, and this, this is his first mistake of many. 

“Wait, what sorcery is this? Jeon Jungkook is on time to practice,” Jimin fakes astonishment as Jungkook strolls into the rehearsal room. 

“Despite the propaganda that you spread about me, Park Jimin, I’m a very responsible individual who takes practice seriously,” he responds, tone stoic, causing Jimin to cackle loudly.  

“Okay, but seriously, why are you on time? Is there a zombie apocalypse outside? Were you being chased by undead females with stars in their glazed over eyes? Tell me the truth,” Jimin teases and Jungkook sticks his tongue out in response like the adult he is.  

“Why are we friends?” 

“Because I let you snuggle me on the couch while watching eighties flicks,” Jimin tells him. 

“Mmm, okay, so you’re useful.”  

Jimin ignores the comment. 

“How was your super-duper ass early-o’clock class?” 

Jungkook stiffens at the question, eyes focused on the ground beneath his feet as he mumbles, “It came and went.”  

“Wha-“ Jimin starts but is cut off. 

The dance instructor walks into the room, commanding Jimin’s attention, and Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief, happy to focus on something other than what went down in his Dance Theory lecture.  

Dancing is Jungkook’s escape from life; it’s the one place he feels most like himself. Getting lost in the rhythm is free therapy. Beads of sweat drip down his face as the class runs through the moves for the seventh time since learning the steps. Jungkook’s black tee clings to his damp skin, his breathing becoming labored as the burn in his muscles set in. He loves this feeling the most, his muscles throbbing as they commit the dance to memory. Jungkook smiles despite himself, and the sweet sensation of freedom sweeps over him.  

Sitting with his back leaned about against the practice mirror, he chugs the bottle of water Jimin tossed in his direction several minutes ago. 

“You heading back to the dorm?” Jimin asks after finishing his water. 

“Mmm, I have some reading to do,” he answers quickly. 

“I’m gonna meet Tae for a bit to eat and maybe a movie. You can come if you want,” Jimin extends the invitation. 

“Nah, I’m drained. Gonna go home and veg for a bit, and get this reading done for my econ class.” 

“Yuck, math,” Jimin grimaces, and Jungkook chuckles. 

“It’s not so bad, hyung. Plus, the only reason I’m able to take dance as a major was by promising my parents I would double major in something else that I can make a living at ,” he tells his friend, making air quotes with his fingers. 

“Yes, but on top of a double major, you play lacrosse and run track. I get that you’re a jock, Kook, but don’t kill yourself to prove yourself to your family,” Jimin admonishes, a hint of worry in his voice.  

“Don’t worry, hyung, I got this. Plus, check out these guns,” he teases, flexing his arm.  

“It’s such a shame that this body is being wasted on a heterosexual,” Jimin says with a sigh, before getting up and grabbing his workout bag and bidding Jungkook goodbye.  

“See you later, hyung,” he calls after the older boy, who responds by throwing back a wave.  

After practice, Jungkook arrives at his dorm worn out by the events of the day. He has put so much energy into not thinking about the absolute ass he made of himself during class that now it all seems to be catching up to him. He walks into his room, dropping his overweight book and gym bags on the ground before tossing himself on his bed with a loud plop. He wants to scream, but that would risk the dorm resident coming to check on him, and honestly, he’s not prepared to explain himself to anyone. 

“Stupid fucking TA,” he groans, dragging his pillow over to cover his face. 

Looking up is Jungkook’s first mistake, but glancing in the direction of the TA? Well, that is the nail in his newly constructed Jung  Hoseok shaped coffin. The man is, in a word, well, lovely. The first thing Jungkook notices is  Hoseok’s smooth, blemish-free skin. It looks soft, alluring, and inviting, even from this distance at the back of the lecture hall. Jungkook has an uncontrollable desire to get up from his seat and run to the front of the room just to trace his fingers along the man’s prominent jawline.   

“Well fuck, I am so screwed,” he says under his breath when Hoseok, the god-tier TA, renders his mind blank when he graces the class with an awe-inspiring smile as he introduces himself.  

“Morning everyone,” the TA greets. “As Professor So said, my name is Hoseok, Jung  Hoseok. I’m a final year dance major. I took this class during my first year, and it helped lay the groundwork for the rest of my school life. I know it’s early in the morning, but don’t blow off this class. I guarantee you’ll regret it if you do.”  

“Okay,” Professor So, jumps back into the class details as he instructs Hoseok to hand out the syllabus.   

Jungkook’s eyes follow the TA like a hawk watching its prey. Everything about Hoseok wakes Jungkook up. His heart is beating three times the normal rate, and words that he knows and regularly uses now seem like a foreign language. Hoseok hands a stack of syllabi to two students at the front of the class.  

“Everyone, please take one and pass it along. If it runs out, let me know,”  Hoseok singsongs, and Jungkook wonders how someone’s voice can hold so much melody so early in the morning.  

He’s watching the TA so intensely,  he doesn’t realize the syllabus never makes it to his row.  

“Excuse me, Hoseok- sshi,” the girl to the left of Jungkook calls out to the man. “We didn’t get a syllabus.”  

Hoseok looks up and then, then, without warning, it happens. The TA turns his head to the right and catches Jungkook staring. Their eyes lock, and for a brief moment, everything stops. Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat. He’s not sure if he’s breathing to be very frank.  Hoseok smiles at him and Jungkook’s mind goes blank.  

He watches in a mixture of horror and excitement as the man begins to walk up the stairs on Jungkook’s side of the room.  The thumping of his heart is deafening, and Jungkook does a quick scan of the room, wondering if anyone else can hear.   

“Hi,” Hoseok says as he leans over the seat to Jungkook’s right to hand him a stack of syllabi. “Mind passing this along for me?”  

And Jungkook balks, not so much in resistance to helping but because none of his faculties are working.   

There are two things that most people don’t know about Jungkook. One is that he loves eighties teen flicks. He blames this addiction squarely on the shoulders of his older brother, Seokjin, who wanted to be an actor when growing up and would force a very young Jungkook to watch movies and exchange lines with him. The second thing that most people don’t know about Jungkook is that when he’s nervous and searching for the right thing to say, he will inadvertently quote movie lines. Right now, Jungkook is beyond nervous, and as hard as he tries to keep his lips from moving and his mouth from speaking, he answers Hoseok’s question. Well, sort of.  

“I don’t want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don’t want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I  don’t want to do that,” the words fall out of his mouth like water flowing from a  broken faucet, leaving Jungkook mortified.   

To say that Jungkook is embarrassed would be an understatement. Currently, he’s silently praying for the ground beneath his feet to open up and swallow him, to save him from speaking anymore for the rest of his unholy life. He expects the TA to scold him, to tell him Dance Theory is not a place for people who can’t take it seriously. But to his surprise, one of many when it comes to Jung Hoseok, the man laughs heartily.  

“Did you just quote Say Anything to me?” the TA asks,  and all Jungkook can do is stare at the man, dumbfounded.   

Jungkook has a plan, albeit a bad one. He will not be undone. No TA, no matter how nice his skin may be, is going to take down the great Jeon Jungkook. Okay, yes, he’s being dramatic, but there are times in life when drama is needed, and this, in Jungkook’s humble and slightly delusional opinion, is such a time. Dance theory is not going to make or break his college career, he speculates. He doesn’t technically need the class to graduate.  

Therefore, it must go.  

The next day Jungkook finds himself sitting in the registrar’s office, twiddling his thumbs as the women peers over his class schedule, thick pink glasses perched on the tip of her nose. Every few seconds, she looks up and makes a clicking sound with her tongue; the action is causing Jungkook’s anxiety to heighten.  

“I’m afraid,” she says after several minutes. “If you want to graduate on time, you’ll have to continue with this class. You need an elective this semester to stay on track. The only courses open now are Beekeeping 101 and Patternmaking for Dog Garments.” 

“Patterns for dogs,” he repeats in disbelief. “Why are those even an option?” 

“Don’t judge, Mr. Jeon. College is about diversity and finding one's self. Some people make clothing for dogs, others dance. Is this so hard to understand?” the woman scolds, and Jungkook grimaces inwardly. 

“There’s really nothing that can be done?” Jungkook asks.  

He considers begging, claiming some sort of mental block to getting up at that hour in the morning. But he’s sure she’d see right through it; her glasses are incredibly thick. 

“I’m afraid not,” she tells him with finality. 

Jungkook leaves the office feeling defeated. He’s not sure what his next course of action will be, but he’s damn sure it will not involve him seeing Jung Hoseok’s magnificent smile. Especially at a time in the morning when all his defenses are down.  

“Why does it even bother me?” he asks under his breath as he trots across campus. “Like, he’s a guy and I’m a guy. Guys don’t make other guys flustered. It has to be the time; nobody’s brain is awake at that ungodly hour.” 

“Are you talking to yourself now?” Taehyung questions. 

“Where da’ fuck did you come from?” Jungkook asks, startled at his friend’s sudden appearance. 

“From there,” Taehyung tells him, pointing to the sky, mischievous grin on his face.  

“Ha ha, very funny.” 

“I know, right? My sense of humor is top tier,” Taehyung teases. “Anyway, why are you mumbling to yourself like a crazy person?” 

“I was not,” Jungkook counters defensively. 

“Uhm, you one hundred percent were,” Taehyung throws back. 

He knows he can’t argue and sighs. 

“I just have a lot going on,” he tells Taehyung. 

“Like what?” the boy persists. 

“Not in the mood to talk about it right now,” he states, straightforward, hoping Taehyung takes the hint. 

Jungkook knows its wishful thinking because Taehyung’s never been good at hints. 

“Okay,” Taehyung tells him, and Jungkook eyes the man in shock. 

“Really?” 

“Mhmm, really,” Taehyung confirms. “I’ll get it out of you later anyway, so I can wait.” 

Jungkook pouts, because one, Taehyung is right, and two, Taehyung is right.  

“Why are we friends, again?” he asks. 

“Because Jimin loves me, and you love Jimin. Therefore, you love me. Oh, shit, how’s it two already? I gotta go, I have office hours today. A TA’s work is never done,” Taehyung complains with a pout. “Hey, Jimin and I are going out tonight, wanna come?” 

“Mmm, maybe,” he says. “I need a distraction.” 

“Yes, let’s fuck it up,” Taehyung yells excitedly, causing people to stare in their direction. 

“Geesh, hyung, keep it down.” 

Taehyung chuckles, landing a slap on Jungkook’s back before turning to leave. 

The bar is loud and hot. Sweaty bodies of various shapes and sizes are packed together like sardines in the large open room. Some are swaying to the music, dancing, laughing, trying to make a connection. Others are standing at the bar, drink in hand as they survey the landscape. The girl currently hanging on Jungkook’s left arm, who’s begging but not succeeding in convincing him to take her for a spin on the dance floor, is pretty in a generic way, large eyes, delicate skin, and silky hair. She’s the barbie to his Ken, in the looks department, but in every other way, Jungkook’s just not feeling it.  

“Come on, Kook, let’s dance,” she whines for the umpteenth time.  

He doesn’t know her name, and he’s not looking to find out. But it doesn’t surprise him that she knows his. Jungkook’s used to it, girls throwing themselves at him, working hard to secure his attention. It wasn’t always this way; growing up, he was shy, a loner. Talking to girls made him nervous and uncomfortable. In high school, his persona changed, even if his inner self didn’t. He was still shy, still a loner, only now people mistook his shyness for aloofness, thus creating his reluctant cold, heart-breaking bad boy status. His brother Seokjin attributes it to his muscles and the fact that “you have to be good looking, we’re related.” 

It’s all an act, and Jungkook, being the professional actor that he is, plays his role to perfection. Downing the last drop of beer in his mug, he grabs her hand, pulling her to the center of the room toward the dance floor. He came here for a distraction, and she’s as good as any, he guesses. The girl giggles, nibbling at his ear as they walk toward the crowded dance floor.  

“Fucking finally,” she whispers huskily. 

Jungkook’s about to respond when something in his peripheral vision demands his attention. 

He turns. 

This is his second mistake.  

Jungkook’s not sure what causes him to look. Maybe it’s destiny. Perhaps somewhere in the recesses of his mind he heard the sound, a familiar gravely tone mixed with sugary sweetness. It’s a noise that has become familiar enough to keep him up at night (even if he doesn’t admit it), causing him to question all he thought he knew about himself. 

It’s him, the TA with the disarming smile. That one that caught Jungkook’s reference to Say Anything and didn’t look at him like he was an alien from another planet after he’d inadvertently blurted out the most inappropriate movie quote as a response to the man’s question. 

“Shit,” Jungkook chokes out.  

He needs to bail before he’s seen.  

“What’s wrong,” she asks, tugging him back toward the center of the room. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he answers a bit too hastily, causing the girl’s eyebrows to arch curiously. “Let’s just dance.” 

“Okay.” She smiles and allows him to pull her into the center of the floor. 

They hide among the sea of bodies, and Jungkook tries to push Jung Hoseok’s distracting grin and kind eyes out of his mind. It works, somewhat. They dance until Jungkook’s nearly out of breath. His body feels liquidy. Sweat drips down his temples.  

“I need a drink. You want anything?” he asks. 

“No, thank you. Just hurry back. I like the feel of you against me,” she tells him with a suggestive grin.  

The bar is swarmed with people. Jungkook pushes his way through the barricade of bodies until he makes it to the counter. The bartender is taking another order; he peruses the drink options while he waits. 

“Hey, I know you,” the voice to his right has Jungkook panicking. 

He’d forgotten, well almost forgotten, about the TA. His TA, Jung Hoseok, Mr. Big Smiles and bright eyes. 

“Jungkook, right? Jeon Jungkook, from Dance Theory, right?” Hoseok asks. 

It’s a simple enough question. One that any normal person with normal responses could answer. But Jungkook it turns out is NOT normal. The words come out of his mouth before he can stop them and before he can escape. 

“Have you ever considered piracy? You’d make a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts,” he replies as he screams furiously on the inside.  

Jungkook’s praying, hoping the words in his head didn’t make it past his lips. 

They did. 

He looks up, ready to apologize, but instead of judgmental eyes or quizzical glares, Jungkook sees a genuine smile on Hoseok’s face, a smile so captivating the urge to reach out and touch the man is even more intense than it was during his class.  

“Princess Bride?” Hoseok asks with a cute chuckle, head cocked to the side. 

“Well shit,” is all Jungkook can respond before making a beeline through the crowd and getting the hell out of dodge. 

That night, as Jungkook lies in bed recapping the events of the evening, he comes up with a plan. It’s a lousy plan, possibly the dumbest of his life, but his sanity depends on it. He can’t, will not,  continue to be flustered and flabbergasted by his smiley TA. He’s fucking Jeon Jungkook, the crusher of hearts and lover of eighties movies. He will survive and beat the system . How? Simple, he’s not going to class. He'll show up for tests and will get his assignments in on time, but he will not be subjected to dangerously bright sunshine smiles and sexy, gravelly tones at an hour in the morning when his brain cannot fight back. He will buck the system. The man will not keep him down.  

Thus begins Operation: Avoid Jung Hoseok. It turns out the universe has a fucked-up sense of humor, and Jungkook’s the butt of the joke. His plan to not see Hoseok by ditching class has now turned into Operation: Jokes On You, Jung Hoseok’s Everywhere. Before first encountering the too happy TA in his early morning class, Jungkook had never seen the man before, not once, ever. Now, now that he knows of Hoseok’s existence, the man is everywhere. At Jungkook’s favorite bubble tea spot, talking to another teacher in the bleachers during Lacrosse training, and walking into the practice room next to his, as Jungkook makes his way into the Fine Arts Building for practice.  

Jung Hoseok is quite literally omnipresent.  

Jungkook feels like he’s going crazy. 

THE  NOT A CONFESSION, CONFESSION  

Waking up, Jungkook groggily surveys his environment. He’s in a bit of a daze, worn out from the previous night's activities. It takes him a moment to realize the room he’s in isn’t his own. Sitting up in the bed, he sees the outline of his latest partner snuggled under the blanket to his right. The girl’s wavy blonde hair fans out across the pillow. He groans inwardly remembering the night before. Stretching a bit, he winces in pain, his bones aching from overuse. Moving stealthily, he tries to escape the bed without waking up the sleeping girl. After several minutes he gains his freedom, and to his great relief, his bedmate is none the wiser.  

Tiptoeing around the room, he goes on a hunt for his discarded clothing, retrieving his boxers, oversized white tee, and black skinny jeans in record time. Dressing swiftly, Jungkook contemplates writing the girl a note before ducking out, but he decides against it, not wanting her to read more into their hook-up than he intends. Despite Jungkook’s reputation as the school’s jock and heartthrob, random hook-ups are not his thing. But the last couple of weeks have been hellish, and he needs to destress.  

Sex is fun, a lot of fun, but no matter how much he enjoys himself in the moment, the aftermath always finds him feeling a bit empty, never fully satisfied. There’s still a hunger, a longing for something more, something to meet the need that Jungkook can’t quite identify. As he slips out of his partner’s dorm room to begin his walk of shame, he wonders for the millionth time what he needs, what he wants, and why sex with pretty girls is not enough. 

The walk home does nothing to cure Jungkook’s mood. He still feels empty, hungry, and needy. Sighing, he fishes through the pocket of his jeans for his dorm key. The room is dark as he enters, the light from the hall providing just enough illumination for Jungkook to see that someone, probably Taehyung, is sleeping on the couch. He’s tired, cranky, and not in the mood to answer any questions. Jungkook tries his best to make as little noise as possible as he closes the door behind him, but his shoelaces are untied. As he steps further into the foyer he trips over them, and the door slips out of his hand, slamming with a loud, BAM! Rousing Taehyung from his slumber. 

“Damn it to hell,” Jungkook hisses when he sees his friend jump up from his sleep. 

“What the fuck,” Taehyung yips, clearly startled. 

“Sorry, sorry, I tripped, and it slipped, and—fuck. Sorry,” Jungkook apologizes.  

“Oh, it’s you. Thank goodness,” Taehyung offers with a sigh of relief. “I thought Slender Man had finally come to get me.” 

“Slender man? Wait, nope,” he thinks better of the question when he notices Taehyung’s mouth beginning to move. “I don’t want to know.” 

“Fine, but it’s a riveting tale,” Taehyung teases. “What time is it anyway?” 

“Uhm, four thirty-seven,” Jungkook replies, looking at his watch. 

“In the morning? Dude, why are you home so late? Don’t you, like, have class in three hours?” 

“Not really, I haven’t gone in a couple of weeks,” he answers casually and immediately realizes his mistake.  

Jungkook’s hand flies to his mouth as he silently berates himself for blurting out a response. Part two of Operation: Avoid Jung Hoseok was making sure no one, especially TA Kim Taehyung, knew he was, uhm, avoiding Jung Hoseok. He blames his impulse answer on lack of sleep. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses into his hand. 

“You haven’t gone to class? Why? Is everything okay? Did someone do something to you?” Taehyung questions, and the concern in the man’s tone has Jungkook feeling a bit endeared.  

“No, no, not really. I mean, it’s because of someone, but, uhm—the thing is,” Jungkook starts but realizes all too soon he has nowhere to go with the statement.  

How does one tell a friend you’re not going to class because the TA’s too happy and it irks you? One doesn’t because it’s a stupid reason. Jungkook looks up. Taehyung’s staring, eyebrows arched in that way that says  I’m not gonna ask again, but I’m gonna glare at you until you feel so uncomfortable you have to answer. Taehyung has mastered this look, and Jungkook feels his defenses caving. Panic sets as he tries to figure out an answer. His lips move on their own accord. 

“It's not that I condone fascism, or any -ism for that matter. -Isms, in my opinion, are not good. A person should not believe in an -ism, he should believe in himself. I quote John Lennon: 'I don't believe in Beatles, I just believe in me.' Good point there. After all, he was the walrus. I could be the walrus. I'd still have to bum rides off of people.”  

“Ooh, it must be really bad if you’re quoting old movie lines at me. Okay, fess up, why are you not going to class?” Taehyung’s tone takes a stern turn. 

“It’s not my fault. It’s not,” Jungkook finally breaks. 

The last two weeks have been more stressful than helpful. The universe seems to be conspiring against Jungkook. He watches helplessly as his plan to avoid Hoseok gets derailed. The TA is quite literally everywhere, and there appears to be no escaping him. And damn it to hell if he doesn’t bring his devasting smile and sing-song voice along with him. How is Jungkook supposed to find his calm when the thing that disrupts it is everywhere? 

“Look, first of all, I wouldn’t have even been in this predicament if not for you,” he accuses Taehyung. 

Taehyung looks at him in shock, a hand flying up as he points his finger toward his face as though saying, me?  

“Yes, freaking you. You, you and your ability to make bad ideas sound good. It was a bad idea to take a seven AM class. But, but you know what’s an even worse idea?” Jungkook’s on a roll, his voice growing progressively louder the more worked up he gets. “The fucking worst idea ever was having the world’s most cheerful TA assist the Professor. Like, who the hell thought that was okay? Clearly they’ve never seen this man smile. It’s devasting. It’s all sunshine and rainbows and makes your heart beat fast and your brain stop working. No one, and I mean no one, should be subjected that at seven in the morning.” Jungkook pauses to take a breath. “How am I supposed to concentrate with the sun shining in my eyes like that. Who the fuck smiles so brightly that early in the morning?” 

He doesn’t need to look at Taehyung to realize he’s said too much. The awkward silence that hangs in the air is enough of an indication. He hears Taehyung inhale and then exhale, as though it’s taking everything in him to process what Jungkook has word-vomited on him.  

“Wait, so the reason you’re not going to class is that you—wait…I need to sit down. Fuck, how did I, the great detective, the all-seeing, all-knowing radar of the gayness, not see this before?” Taehyung blurts excitedly, and Jungkook’s internal freakout reaches an all-new high. 

“Wh-what?! D-d-do what--what are you saying?” Jungkook barely stutters out the question, his heart quaking in his chest, and the sound is deafening.  

Bubble Boy is Hoseok’s favorite bubble tea place. He discovered it in his Sophomore year when Namjoon dragged him there because he had a crush on one of the cashiers. In fact, now that Hoseok thinks about, as he sips on his melon and lime with extra tapioca balls, almost all of his favorite places have been to due Namjoon’s infatuation with someone.  

Settling into his seat, Hoseok makes himself comfortable as he pulls a stack of papers out of his messenger bag. He has a TA office for work such as this, but he hates being cooped up in a tiny office where the four walls feel like they’re closing in on him. He prefers open spaces filled with people and activity. Shutting out the noise of the events going on around him to concentrate on the task at hand gives him a sense of power. His phone buzzes, jumping on the table, stealing his attention. 

Hoseok chuckles at Namjoon’s lack of a comeback. Kim Namjoon usually is very quick with his witty retorts, except when the subject matter is Kim Seokjin. This topic leaves the man rattled, and Hoseok takes every chance he’s given to fluster his friend.  He knows Namjoon is currently reading his text and trying to formulate a reply but failing miserably.  

Hoseok’s can’t help but note the irony unfolding before him. Him calling out Namjoon only to have the object of his, well, infatuation enter the tea shop, throwing him completely off-kilter. ‘No, no, not an infatuation per se,’ Hoseok whispers under his breath, correcting his thoughts. He doesn’t even know the kid. Interest, yes, he’s interested in the kid, uhm, as a person, of course. It has nothing to do with the cute blush that colored his skin the one and only time he showed up for class. Nor does it have to do with Jeon Jungkook (yes, Hoseok looked him up, for academic purposes, of course), being so flustered that he answered him with a very inappropriate, albeit hilarious, movie quote.  

No, none of those are the reason Hoseok’s interested. His interests are purely professional. As the TA, he wants to make sure Jeon Jungkook (he really likes that name) gets everything out of his Theory of Dance class. Hoseok had almost forgotten about Namjoon, as he silently fumes at the female cashier who’s fawning over the cute jock, but his phone vibrating wildly against the table brings the man back to memory. 

Ducking just in time, Hoseok avoids any awkward meetings between him and Jungkook. He definitely will confront the boy about missing class, but now is not the time. He turns around as the boy rushes past him, watching with a keen eye as Jungkook disappears through the door, almost running. He wonders if the younger man saw him, but he doubts it. Picking up his melon-lime tea once again, he pushes thoughts of Jungkook and Capuchin monkeys out of his mind. He has papers to grade.  

The next time Hoseok spies Jungkook is a few days after the bubble tea shop. He bumps into his Arts and Life professor on his way out after finishing his office hours. 

“Professor Chang, hello sir,” he greets the older man, extending his hand with a bow. 

“Hoseok-sshi, hello, nice to see you again,” the man returns the greeting. “Actually, I’m happy I bumped into you. I want to talk to you about your presentation. The topic is a bold choice. Merging music with different forms of art is an ambitious endeavor. Are you sure you’ll be able to pull it together in time for the due date?”  

The man questions as he continues to walk, and Hoseok has no choice but to follow, given that the conversation could impact his grade. 

“I do, sir,” he assures the teacher. “I’ve put a lot of thought into this, and my research is solid, if I do say so myself. Music is art with melody and rhythm. As I began to dig deeper into my topic, I realized all art has a melody and rhythm. Even if it’s not audible, it still very present.” 

“Hmm,” the man hums, and he finally comes to a halt.  

Hoseok realizes they’re in the bleachers of the school’s sports complex. He hadn’t been paying attention as he trailed behind the man, trying to keep up. He looks around, confused by the location. 

“I’m the coach of the junior soccer team,” the man answers, and Hoseok thinks he sees the question on his face. 

“Ahh,” he says with a nod of his head. “I hope you’ll approve my subject matter, sir. I promise it will be worth your time.” 

“Oh, I’m very much looking forward to it, Hoseok-sshi. My purpose in this conversation is to let you know I’m very impressed with the way you view art, more precisely, your art. I appreciate that you realize art is not an isolated event. While each form can stand on its own, art is meant to be enjoyed collaboratively, each highlighting the best in the other,” the man informs him. “I am very excited to see what you do with this piece.” 

Hoseok can’t help his smile; it feels like it’s taking up his entire face.  

“Thank you so much, sir. I promise I will put a hundred and ten percent of my energy into this performance,” he tells the man as he bows. 

“I expect nothing less from you. Thank you for allowing me to take up your time, Hoseok-sshi,” his teacher says with a small wave as he turns to walk toward the changing room. 

“Any time, sir,” he calls after the man. 

Hoseok stays until his professor disappears into the tunnel-like walkway. He’s on cloud nine, filled with giddy excitement at his professor’s confidence in him. His gaze falls on the field in front of him, and to his surprise, there, not three feet from him, stands Jeon Jungkook, looking every bit the college heart-throb jock Hoseok first pegged him as. The boy’s just this side of too long hair is clinging to his forehead, and sweat is dripping down his body, tracing along his muscular arms which are on full display thanks to the low cut tank top he’s sporting. Hoseok’s eyes feel as though they’re glued to Jungkook’s glistening skin, his stare so intense, he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. 

Maybe Jungkook not showing up for lectures is not a bad thing, he thinks to himself as he watches the man run down the field, lacrosse stick in his hand, overtaking his opponent with such force Hoseok audibly gasps. Today, it turns out, is also not the day to approach Jungkook about his absence from class. Hoseok feels a sense of awe and pride when Jungkook scores the first goal of the practice. The “yeah” that escapes his lips is entirely unexpected, and Hoseok leaves the field immediately after his outburst, embarrassed even though he wasn’t caught.  

Hoseok doesn’t believe in fate, but his third Jungkook sighting leaves him wondering if he should. Being a TA is not Hoseok’s final stage; it’s a means to an end. The job allows him access to the practice rooms after hours as well as teaching tools and techniques usually only bestowed on teachers and professors. It’s nowhere near closing hours when he enters the Fine Arts building heading toward practice room B.  

Just before he reaches the door, he stops at the bulletin board. Swinging his messenger bag to the front, he rummages through the pocket, looking for his flyers. Dancing is not just a passion for Hoseok. He hopes to make a living at it someday. First, by joining a dance troupe, and then once he’s earned enough money, opening up a dance studio in his hometown. Just thinking about the dream puts a smile on his face.  

He looks over the flyer one final time before hanging it on the board. He’s auditioning dancers to help in his recitals for his senior final. He hopes the applicants are as serious about dance and art as he is, he may be smiley and happy in life, but when it comes to dancing, well, Hoseok admits he’s kind of a dictator. He’s perusing the other leaflets when he hears footsteps coming in his direction. The person sounds like they’re running, possibly late for practice. He hopes whoever it makes it on time, and he takes the two steps necessary to enter his practice room. Curiosity, for whatever reason, gets the best of him, and Hoseok peeks around the side of the door to see who the later comer is. 

“Of course it is,” is all he can say to himself as he sees Jungkook, in sweats and a baggy white tee, heading into the practice room right next to his. 

The boy pauses on a dime the moment their eyes meet, and a shudder runs down Hoseok’s spine, gluing his feet to the ground under them. Neither of them say anything, not even a nod of acknowledgment passes between them.  

“Kook,” someone yells from inside the room, commanding Jungkook’s attention.  

 “You little shit,” Jungkook says with a crooked smile as he enters the room, leaving Hoseok alone in the hall. 

After he enters practice room B, Hoseok wonders to himself if Jungkook dances with as much force and power as he plays sports. He wouldn’t doubt it. The man is the living, breathing definition of the term golden boy. For not the last time, Hoseok pushes Jeon Jungkook out of his mind as he turns on the music and gets lost in the beat. 

Hoseok doesn’t believe in fate, but when Jungkook’s name falls from Kim Taehyung’s lips, he can’t even be surprised. 

Two Days  Prior   

Jimin has a crush, and it’s obvious to anyone with eyes. Taehyung, Jimin thinks, may be blind. Despite all his unsubtle, nonverbal hints, the slightly younger man has yet to catch on to Jimin’s feelings. The situation is both frustrating and endearing.  

“Jimin, Jimin, Jimin, oh my ghhoooood!” Taehyung screeches excitedly as he enters his room. “You will never fucking believe what Jungkook confessed, well not confess, but he didn’t deny, which is the same as confessing.” 

“Huh?”  

Most conversions with Taehyung start like this, with Jimin in utter confusion. Taehyung’s like an excited puppy dog, jumpy, yipping with energy, and Jimin just wants to drown in it, whether he knows what’s going on or not. 

“Kook, our Jungkookie, has a crush on his TA. His very male TA,” Taehyung informs him as he throws himself into Jimin’s lap. 

Jimin doesn’t answer immediately, momentarily stunned by Taehyung’s closeness. He should be used to it, Taehyung’s affinity for human contact, but it throws him every time.  

“Wait, come again? Jungkook has a what on who?” his mind finally registers what his crush said. 

“I said, Jungkook, The Jeon Jungkook, he of big muscles and bunny smiles, has a crush on his TA, who happens to be my friend Jung Hoseok,” Taehyung repeats.  

“How do you know this?” 

“Remember the night we all went out to drink and dance?” 

“Hmm,” Jimin hums. 

“Well, Kook came home super earl—or would that be considered late?” Taehyung surmises talking to himself. Jimin chuckles as the boy shakes his head cutely, before scolding himself. “No, don’t get sidetracked, Taehyung. Like I was saying, Kook came back like at four that morning, which surprised me because I know he had that seven AM class. But then he said he’s been skipping class. So, I was like, but ‘why.’ Then, then, then he says it’s because his, his very male  TA’s smile is too distracting. Can you believe it?”  

“Wait, my roommate, Jungkook? I live by the bro code, Jungkook?” Jimin asks in shock. 

“Mmm, the one and only. I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” Taehyung starts. “I mean, all the signs are there if you’re paying attention. He loves eighties movies, cries at sappy commercials, and is always disgruntled and grumpy after hook-ups with random girls. Like, who’s unhappy after sex? No one unless it’s not the kind of sex you’re looking for.” 

“And—what kind of sex is he looking for?” Jimin questions, even if he sees where Taehyung’s taking the answer. 

“The gay kind, Minnie, the gayest, gay kind,” Taehyung squeals, clapping his hands in glee. “I have a plan.” 

“Nope, nuh-uh, nope,” Jimin tells him.  

“But, but you haven’t even heard it,” Taehyung retorts. 

“I don’t need to hear. If I do, I’ll probably agree with you, even if I know it’s a bad idea. Because you, Kim Taehyung, have this way of making the world’s worse ideas sound like the best plan ever.”  

“This is the best plan ever, though,” Taehyung assures him with pleading eyes and a pout on his pretty lips. 

And this is how Jimin got suckered into Operation: Jungkook Goes On A Blind Date With His TA. 

TWO DAYS LATER  

“I’m sorry, come again,” Hoseok begs for clarification.  

Surely he misheard Taehyung’s request. 

“Jungkook,” Taehyung starts, pausing to take a breath. “He’s in your Dance Theory class, right?” 

Hoseok nods his confirmation. 

“Well, I’m here to ask you a favor. A request, if you will,” Taehyung restates. 

“You want me to go on a blind date with Jeon Jungkook?” Hoseok reiterates, beating Taehyung to the punch. 

“Mmm,” the younger TA hums. 

“Taehyung, you do realize Jungkook is a student in the class I TA for, right?” Hoseok questions, still a bit shell-shocked at the request. 

“Mmm.” 

“And you still want me to go on a date with him?” 

“I mean, you can call it whatever you want, date, meeting, appointment, tryst, get-together, you can even say it’s an attempt to get him to return to class. Use whatever title makes you most comfortable, but in the end, the answer to your question is yes. I want to set Jungkook up on a blind date with you,” Taehyung confirms. 

“Is it really a blind date if I know who my date is?” Hoseok asks. 

“No, not for you. But for Kook, it will be,” Taehyung answers quickly. 

“Why, why me? Your friend doesn’t seem to have a shortage of love interests from what I’ve seen,” Hoseok tells the younger man. 

“So, you’ve been watching him?” 

“What?! No, no, he, well, he just seems to be everywhere these days. It’s kind of weird, to be honest,” Hoseok quickly refutes Taehyung’s insinuation.   

“Funny, he said the same thing about you,” Taehyung muses, more talking out loud than to Hoseok directly. “Maybe,” Taehyung says as he turns to face Hoseok directly. “Maybe the universe is trying to tell you both something.” 

“Seriously, Taehyung, this, this doesn’t make sense. I can’t just date a student,” Hoseok restates with a shake of his head, hoping to stop himself from entertaining Taehyung’s terrible idea. 

“But,” Taehyung starts with a crooked smile, “you’re thinking about it, aren’t you? I can tell you are, hyung. You’re curious, a teeny tiny bit intrigued by him, aren’t you? Don’t you want to know why he’s hasn’t come back to class since the first day? I think you’ll find the answer to that question fascinating.” Taehyung chuckles, and Hoseok eyes him suspiciously. 

“Are you going to tell me?” he asks his fellow TA. 

“Nope, that’s a question for Jungkook alone to answer,” Taehyung quips. 

Hoseok can’t believe he’s contemplating the idea, but Taehyung’s piqued his curiosity. It’s been bothering him, Jungkook not showing up to class. Professor So does not take a stand on attendance, not as long as work is turned in on time and students show up for tests. The professor is pretty lax on attendance. Jungkook has turned in his assignments on time and received the second-highest grade on the one quiz they’ve had thus far. It should not irk Hoseok that the boy doesn’t attend lectures; he clearly understands the course work. But it does, it does bother him, and he needs to know why.  

“Fine, I’ll bite. But what if Jungkook doesn’t want to, what then? Are you even sure he likes guys?” Hoseok’s throws out. 

“If Jungkook’s life were a k-drama, he’d be Gu Jun Pyo, Kim Shin, and Lee Young-Joon all rolled into one,” Taehyung says, as though it were a suitable answer to his question. 

“So, he’s a spoiled rich kid god roaming the earth looking for his bride, who turns out to be his secretary?” Hoseok offers. 

“Yes. What? No. But this would make an amazing screenplay,” Taehyung muses to himself, straying off-topic briefly. “Focus, Taehyung, focus. No, what I mean is Kook’s always had a persona, if you will, not one he’s given himself but one placed on him. He’s never questioned it, just kind of accepted that it was who he was, even if it didn’t feel real. I’m just asking you to help me as I help my friend find his authentic self. 

“Is this line gonna be in your screenplay?” Hoseok jokes. “Because if it is, you’ll have the audience eating out of your hands.” 

Taehyung laughs heartily at the statement. 

“Thanks, hyung. I’ll text you with a date and time once Jungkook’s on board.” 

Taehyung leaves, and Hoseok is left alone with his thoughts.  

Hoseok doesn’t believe in fate, but what if Taehyung’s right? What if the universe is trying to tell him and Jungkook something? He wonders if they’re ready to hear it. 

Jungkook enters the restaurant cautiously, eyes scanning the room to see if he recognizes anyone. Jimin’s only instructions were to be there at eight PM sharp, go to table fifty-seven, and wait to see who shows up. Oh, he also added, “Don't be shocked, okay? And no matter how you feel, Kook, don’t run away.”  Jimin’s final words are not inspiring Jungkook’s confidence, but he made a promise not to run away, and he’s nothing if not a man of his word. 

The eatery is quaint and retro with circular red booths that remind Jungkook of a throwback to the fifties. To add to the motif, the waitresses are wearing poodle skirts and tight red sweaters with their hair pulled back in sleek ponytails. All servers are clad in roller skates, and Jungkook thinks this must be a fun place to work.  

Table fifty-seven is empty when Jungkook finds it. He seats himself quickly and begins to peruse the room once again, nervously. He wonders why all the secrecy. It’s not as though he was opposed to the idea of a blind date when Jimin broached the subject. The man had climbed into his bed late one night, snuggled under the covers with him, and abruptly told him that he and Taehyung had set him up on a blind date. Jungkook didn’t have to ask; the look on Jimin’s face was enough for him to know that Taehyung had briefed Jimin on their late-night talk, the one where Jungkook unwittingly admitted to finding his male TA attractive and maybe, possibly men in general.  

Jungkook’s not looking when he senses his date for the evening sliding into the seat in front of him. He doesn’t look up. At the moment, his hands are fascinating, and he prefers to fiddle with them rather than see what could have led Jimin to warn him not to run away.  

“Jungkook?” The voice is familiar, like a smile or your favorite tee, and Jungkook seriously considers running away but only after killing both Taehyung and Jimin. 

Fuck  

Fuck  

Fuck  

Jungkook’s heart is pounding in his chest. Scratch that, at the moment, his heart is hatching an escape plan to remove itself from his thoracic region. Each thump is thunderous in his ears, and try as he might, Jungkook can’t seem to form a proper sentence, not even a simple “hi”  is forthcoming. Of all the people on planet earth Kim Taehyung could have set him up with, he went with the current object of Jungkook’s desire, and Jungkook is freaking the hell out. It’s a state of emergency, a panic-demic, and all of Jungkook’s senses are on high alert. 

Fight or flight responses set in, and Jungkook feels blind-sided.  

He’d hoped to explore this new development in his sexuality slowly, cautiously. Jungkook never imagined his first face to face (well, almost) as he parlays the playing field of his newly acknowledged desires would be none other than hot TA himself, Jung Hoseok.  

“Hey, you okay?” Hoseok’s voice is sweet, worried, and soft, so very soft. Jungkook wishes he could touch it.  

Finally, Jungkook looks up, and mayday, mayday, he’s about to crash and burn. 

The worry in Hoseok’s eyes has Jungkook feeling guilty, guilty, guilty. He needs to say something, anything. He just needs the man to know he’s alive and hasn’t turned into a mute. Any word will do. Jungkook opens his mouth and says the first thing that comes to mind. 

“I do have a test today, that wasn’t bullshit. It’s on European socialism. I mean, really, what’s the point? I’m not European. I don’t plan on being European. So who gives a crap if they’re socialists? They could be fascist anarchists, it still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t own a car.” He immediately regrets speaking.  

Laughter isn’t what Jungkook expects to hear. The sound is glorious, like ripples forming on a lake as a stone skips across or bubbles popping on your nose. Despite the awkwardness, Jungkook finds himself smiling at the mirth in Hoseok’s laugh. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” he likes the way Hoseok says his name. “You’re very surprising, and I love surprises. I’m also very fond of Ferris Bueller. I have an older sister who was obsessed with eighties movies when we were growing up.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen, and the way Hoseok’s lips move from smile to satisfied smirk tells Jungkook the man notices his reaction. 

“Me too, hyung!” Jungkook says a bit too loudly, overtaken with excitement. “Only, I have a hyung whose dream was to be an eighties heartthrob, even though he was born in the nineties.”  

“Really?” Hoseok laughs louder at the revelation. “That’s funny. Well, I’m happy we have something in common.” 

Jungkook nods. His heart feels light, and giddy butterflies are starting to flutter in his gut. Taehyung, whose death he was plotting just moments ago, is now a God among men... how the tables have turned. 

They sit silently for a few moments, Jungkook still reeling from shock. 

“Hyung, ho-how come it’s you?” he asks, not sure what he’s asking. 

“Kim Taehyung,” Hoseok answers easily.  

“Ahh, how do you know Taetae hyung?”  

“Taetae?” Hoseok repeats, brows arching adorably.  

Jungkook blinks once, twice, hoping to bring his mind back online.  

“My roommate has a crush on Tae hyung, and now—oh shit, fuck, damn it, sorry for cursing, but please don’t tell Jimin hyung I told you,” Jungkook covers his mouth, willing himself to stop speaking. 

“I promise it will be our secret,” Hoseok assures him with a wink, and once again, Jungkook’s hard-drive glitches.  

This is about to be the best and worst night of Jungkook’s life.  

“Thank you, sorry I’m such a spaz. It’s just that, that you--fuck, stop speaking, Jungkook.” 

“It’s just what?” Hoseok asks, and if he hears the fact that Jungkook used the pronoun you, he doesn’t let on. 

“It’s, it’s, I get anxious in unfamiliar situations, and my brain’s way to deal with the stress is to have my mouth says things that make no sense. Usually a movie quote, because apparently I store them for later use.” 

“Ahh, well that explains... all our interactions so far,” Hoseok answers, and Jungkook’s still floored by the lack of judgment in the man’s tone. “Hey, have you been here before? What’s good?” 

“Mmm, I’ve ordered from here a lot. But this my first time eating in the restaurant. The Big Boy Burger is delicious,” Jungkook starts. “But it’s messy because they douse it in barbeque sauce.” 

“Ooh, that sounds great, to be honest. I haven’t had a good burger in what feels like ages,” Hoseok tells him, the man’s head buried in the menu. 

“I recommend it. Also, they have an oreo malt that will have you seeing angels.” 

Hoseok lays the menu on the table. 

“Angels, huh? I feel like I’m seeing one right now, though.” 

It takes him a good minute to realize what Hoseok says; he’s so mesmerized by the man’s lips and bright eyes. Once the words register, Jungkook sputters, like a keyboard smash of his brain, only it comes out in broken screeches that Jungkook can’t control. But maybe Hoseok’s cute grin is worth the embarrassment. Maybe.  

The evening moves along pleasantly Jungkook learns that Hoseok is the youngest of two, that he’s working toward a degree in dance, that he hopes to open his own dance studio one day. He admires the passion he sees in Hoseok’s eyes as he talks about dancing and his future. Jungkook understands the feeling. There’s a freedom that can only be found through dancing. It’s like flying but with your feet on the ground.  Jungkook realizes as Hoseok talks that dancing is yet another thing that he and the older boy share, and he can’t hide the smile that the thought brings. 

Jungkook, despite his playboy status, is not a fan of dates. He’s never had one that he wanted to remember. But as the evening turns into night, and the hands on the clock tick closer and closer to the end of the date, it dawns on Jungkook that he doesn’t want it to. He throws obscure questions Hoseok’s way just to continue talking to the man.  

“So, where do you fall on the color blue?” he asks randomly and chuckles to himself when Hoseok draws his brows questioningly. “Colors say a lot about a person, hyung.” 

“Do they now,” the man says with a chuckle. “What about you, Jeon Jungkook, where do you stand on coming back to Dance Theory?” Hoseok throws a curveball. 

“Huh, dan-dance theory? The class? So, so--you know that I haven’t been attending?” Jungkook’s not sure if he’s happy or nervous about this information. Maybe a bit of both. 

“Well, I do take the attendance,” Hoseok offers. “Also, you leave quite an impression. It would be hard not to notice you, Jungkook.” 

Happy, he’s happy with the information. Then he looks up and meets Hoseok’s gaze, and now, now he’s nervous. Definitely nervous.  

“Why did you stop? I mean, you only came one day, and then you just kind of vanished,” Hoseok presses.  

Jungkook doesn’t want to open his mouth; he doesn’t, because one of two things will happen. Either he’ll answer the man with an inappropriate movie quote, or worst-case scenario, he’ll tell Hoseok the truth. Jungkook doesn’t like either option. 

“Here’s your bill, gentlemen,” the waitress says, appearing out of thin air and saving Jungkook from inevitable disaster.  

Hoseok takes the check from the female with a smile. After looking it over he hands her a credit card. 

“Hyung, no, let me-” Jungkook starts, reaching for his wallet, but Hoseok holds up a hand, silencing him. 

“No, tonight’s my treat. Next time you pay,” Hoseok says smoothly. 

“Nex-next time?” Jungkook’s eyes widen. “You, I mean, there’s…uhm, okay?”  

Jungkook’s doesn’t know how to answer. However, there are things that he does know. For instance, he knows that Hoseok’s smile is the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on; it should be a national treasure. He also knows that he likes Hoseok’s skin and the way the man smells like fresh flowers and sunshine. The final thing Jungkook knows is that, despite his lack of verbiage, he very much would like to see Hoseok again, and then maybe again after that.  

The parking lot is pretty much deserted when Jungkook walks Hoseok to his car. They talked until the staff of the restaurant informed them they were closing. Jungkook feels a bit sad that the evening has to end. Hoseok was a pleasant happenstance, a black swan event that he did not see coming.  

“This is me,” Hoseok tells him, pointing to a shiny black Range Rover. 

“Ohh, being a TA pays this well, hyung?” Jungkook asks, surprised by the vehicle.  

Hoseok smiles. 

“No, this was a gift from my parents for graduating at the top of my class.” 

“Oooh,” Jungkook responds with a nod. “When I graduated, my parents bought me flowers. They smelled nice,” he says off-handedly, causing Hoseok to laugh boisterously. 

Jungkook can’t help staring. Hoseok laughs with his entire body, and the action has him feeling warm, like Hoseok’s laugh is pulling him into a bear hug of happiness.  

“So,” Hoseok starts, looking around. “Where did you park?” 

“I didn’t. I took the train here,” he informs the man. 

“Oh, do you live on campus?”  

“Mmmm, Jimin hyung and I share an apartment,” Jungkook tells him. 

“Well, hop in. I live on campus too,” Hoseok says, grabbing Jungkook by the arm and pulling him to the passenger door. 

“But, but—are you sure, hyung?” 

“Jungkook, we’re literally going to the same place. Of course I’m sure. Plus, now that you’ll be a captive audience, you’ll have no choice but to answer my question that you evaded earlier,” Hoseok tells him with a cheeky grin. 

“Questi--oooh.” Jungkook sighs as he fastens his seatbelt. “Does it really matter, hyung?” he asks as Hoseok slips into the driver’s seat. 

“It does if I did something that made you feel like you couldn’t come back to class,” the man states. 

Jungkook’s in a dilemma. Hoseok is a hundred percent the reason he did not go back to class, but telling him the truth is so much more embarrassing than having Hoseok think he’s a flake. How’s he supposed to tell his TA that he can't come to class because he finds his smile distracting, and he wants to touch him in intimate ways, in ways Jungkook has never touched another man before.  

“Okay, how about this,” Hoseok says, startling Jungkook from his thoughts. “If it’s something you don’t feel like sharing, that’s okay. But can you just tell me if I did something that made you feel uncomfortable?” 

“No!” Jungkook answers immediately and loudly. “Oh gosh, hyung, no, not at all. I still think about the fact that you smiled when I answered like I was a dunce, and there wasn’t an ounce of judgment in it. It’s the first time I felt like someone got me. It was such a little thing, but it meant a lot to me.”  

“Jeon Jungkook, I mistook you for a playboy, but you’re not, are you?” The question is rhetorical. “You are a pleasant surprise. Also, you think about me?” Hoseok smirks.  

Well fuck, he walked right into that.  

The campus is surprisingly quiet for a Friday evening, Jungkook notes as Hoseok pulls into a parking spot.  

“Which of the dorm apartments are you in?” Hoseok asks as they exit the car. 

“Uhm, Lee Hall,” Jungkook mumbles under his breath, unsure why he’s nervous about Hoseok knowing where he lives. 

“I’ll walk you home,” the TA states, and Jungkook can’t do anything but nod, too afraid of what will come out if he speaks. 

It’s not that Jungkook’s uncomfortable with Hoseok; on the contrary, he feels very comfortable with the older man. Maybe too comfortable. To be honest, the issue is the fact that he feels so at ease with Hoseok. The TA feels like a favorite pair of jeans that you never want to take off. The problem is that Jungkook wants to hold Hoseok’s hand and kiss Hoseok’s lips and listen to Hoseok talk until he falls asleep. That, that is the real problem. It’s a problem Jungkook’s not sure how to handle, because he’s never had feelings like these before.  

“You know, for someone who wanted to know what my favorite superhero underwear was as a child a little less than an hour ago, you’ve gotten awfully quiet,” Hoseok notes as they stroll toward Jungkook’s dorms. “What are you thinking so hard about?” 

Jungkook sighs, unsure of how to relay his thoughts without giving himself away. He stops. 

“I’ve never done this before, hyung,” he admits, his voice soft even to his own ears. 

“Done what?” Hoseok questions. 

“Gone out with, you know, someone the same gender as me.” Jungkook feels silly, scared, and worried about being judged. “I just, I just, it’s—I liked it. For the first time, I had fun on a date, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that. Does it mean I’m gay? It’s not that I don’t like girls, I don’t think they’re icky or gross. I feel confused and happy, but also like something may be wrong with me. Because, well, it’s just—I find you, this, more interesting?” It’s not a question, not really, but Jungkook’s asking himself anyway. 

“I find you interesting as well,” Hoseok returns the compliment, a soft smile sits on his heart-shaped lips, and Jungkook has the tiniest urge to kiss it. He doesn’t. Hoseok continues, “Also, it’s okay if I’m your first. I’m honored to be. College- hell, life- is all about finding out who you are, what you like, and what you want. You found out you like boys, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It doesn’t mean you’ve magically changed and now you’re someone else. You’re just tapping into a new part of what makes you, well, you.” 

“You don’t think I’m weird?” 

“I think a lot of things about you, Jungkook, and many are things I shouldn’t think because I’m your TA. But weird, weird is not one of them,” Hoseok tells him. 

“Was it hard for you, hyung? When you knew, knew that you like boys?” He doesn’t ask what things Hoseok thinks. He’s not sure he’s ready to know.  

“It wasn’t hard for me to face for myself. I was more worried about what others would think. Mostly my parents and sister. I was afraid they’d see me differently, you know? But they didn’t. They love me the same and accept me for who I am. Also, it’s not something you need to rush, Jungkook. Nothing about who you are has to change. Your personality doesn’t change; your passions don’t change. You just know a little more about yourself than you did before, and that’s a good thing.” Hoseok’s words are encouraging and help push down the fear Jungkook feels. 

“So, what now, hyung?” he asks. 

“It depends on what you want; I guess,” Hoseok replies. 

Jungkook turns and faces the man. He feels shy, like it’s his first time. The butterflies in his stomach quadruple, fluttering furiously. The feeling of wanting to touch Hoseok hasn’t left since the very first day he saw the man in class. Cautiously, slowly, ever so gentle, Jungkook reaches out his hand and traces his finger along the contour of Hoseok’s face. Hosoek’s skin is soft and warm, and a fond smile plays across Jungkook’s lips when Hoseok’s eyes close at his touch. 

“I think, hyung, that I want to get to know you more.” 

Jungkook’s expecting Hoseok to respond with words, so when the man’s heartshaped lips press against his cheek in a chaste kiss, he’s startled and learns that your first real kiss is the most important of all. 

“I want to see you again, Jungkook,” Hoseok says, voice deep and husky, and the tone sends a shiver of anticipation trickling down Jungkook’s spine. “Don’t answer me now. If you want to see me again as well, then show up to class when we resume next Tuesday. We can discuss what’s next then.” Hoseok’s mischievous smile holds a promise that Jungkook really wants the man to keep. 

With those words, Hoseok steps forward with another surprise kiss, this time to Jungkook’s forehead, and he considers never washing his face again. His Dance Theory class is off for a week. The professor is away at a conference. Jungkook has a full week to decide if he’s ready to take the next steps on this new path, although he’s confident he knows what his answer will be.  

Jungkook watches, feeling both a sense of excitement and disappointment as Hoseok walks away. He stands outside alone, letting the brisk night air calm him down, center him. Jimin and Taehyung will be excited puppies attacking him once he goes inside, and his heart is too flustered to handle that at the moment.  

SUNDAY   

Hoseok and Namjoon are best friends, and sometimes, like today, Hoseok wonders why as he watches his friend pine like a lovestruck teen over the owner of the café that the sometimes blonde sometimes purple-haired man has all but moved into. 

“I’m pretty sure this is stalking,” Hoseok says with a chuckle as Namjoon balks at the word. 

“This most certainly is not stalking. That’s illegal and against the law. I, Jung Hoseok, am not a lawbreaker. I’m simply a man in love with beauty. The beauty of life, of the sun as it rises in the sky announcing a new day. The beauty of little froggies jumping on lily pads, and,” Namjoon draws out the conjunction as he stares ever so longingly at the broad-shouldered man with the plump lips and disarming smile standing behind the counter, “the all-encompassing beauty of Kim Seokjin.”  

 “Okay, Shakespeare, I take it back. But when are you gonna actually talk to him? Shoot your shot, if you will.” Hoseok questions. 

“I’m, uhm, biding my time, waiting for the perfect opportunity before I strike,” Namjoon tells him, his tone less confident than before. 

“Mmm, so Yoongi working here hasn’t helped at all?” 

“Yoongi? You mean the traitor?” Namjoon hisses, and Hoseok chuckles. 

“Traitor?”  

“Yes, he told me I need to stop acting like a prepubescent and talk to Seokjin like an adult. He won’t even introduce us,” Namjoon whines.  

“Pretty sure he did introduce us, though. When he was hired, remember, we all went out, and you stared at Jin all night and choked on your spit every time he talked to you?” he reminds his friend. 

“I officially hate you and Yoongi hyung. What great evil did I do in a past life to be saddled with you two in this one?” Namjoon continues to complain, but Hoseok hears the affection in his friend’s voice. “How was your blind date?” Namjoon changes the topic so swiftly Hoseok almost gets whiplash. 

“I’m sure you mean what great good did you do in your past life to be blessed with such amazing hyungs,” he teases. 

“We’re the same age,” Namjoon reminds him, with the most aggressive eye-roll Hoseok’s ever seen. 

“And,” Hoseok continues pretending not to hear Namjoon, “the date, well. It was surprising, but in all the best ways.” 

“Really? In what ways?” 

“I had all these preconceived beliefs of what he was going to be like, you know? Like I expected him to be cocky and a player, but instead, he was adorable and endearing. Joon, I am fucking screwed because I like him a lot. A lot, a lot, but he’s my student, and I’m his first-ever same-sex date,” Hoseok shares. 

“You’re his first? Oh, wow, Seok. Wait, wait, wait, he’s in your class?” 

“Mmm,” he hums. 

“Well shit, that’s an unexpected complication. Did you know who he was when you said yes?” Namjoon questions. 

“Yeah, yeah, I did. But I said yes anyway, because—because I can’t lie, Joon, I was curious. He left an impression, and I just needed to find out why,” Hoseok confesses. 

“Wow, wow, and did you—find out why?” 

“Shit, yeah, I think I did, and now I’m even more confused than before. I’ve always been pretty strict about being involved with students in classes I TA for. Like, I don’t even show favoritism to my friends.” 

“Yes, I know, and I’m still upset.” Namjoon pouts, and Hoseok hits the lanky man on the arm playfully. 

“Look, you deserved that B, and you know it. Anyway, I’m not even sure he counts as a student, since he only showed up for class the first day,” Hoseok surmises, hoping to lessen the small bit of guilt he feels.  

“Wait, muscle bunny was your blind date?” Namjoon’s laughter echoes through the café, causing Seokjin to look in their direction, and as much as Hoseok wants to make Namjoon choke by pointing out this fact, he doesn’t.  

The bell on the door dings loudly, causing Hoseok’s gaze to follow the direction of the sound. 

“Holy shit,” his hisses under his breath. 

“What, what?” Namjoon’s concerned tone cuts off his laughter. 

“He, he--fuck, what kind of sorcery is this? I never, never saw this kid anywhere until the first day of class, and now he’s fucking everywhere,” Hoseok groans as he slinks down in his seat, hoping not to be seen but wanting to be seen in the same breath. 

Jungkook’s wearing a gray sweatsuit, and the way the material clings to the boy’s body, outlining every tiny move, makes it hard for Hoseok not to stare. 

“Wow, Seok, I haven’t seen that in a while,” Namjoon states as he waves a hand in front of Hoseok’s face 

“Seen what?” Hoseok asks, unconsciously wiping at his right cheek. 

“A smile,” Namjoon starts 

“What, that’s a lie. I smile all the time,” Hoseok interjects, cutting his friend off. 

“Yes, you do, but not this smile. That is the same smile I reserve for Kim Seokjin, who will never notice my existence. This smile says, although you call him muscle bunny, you like him, like him.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I just met him. Yeah, sure, I’m attracted, look at him!” Hoseok grumbles under his breath. “And—fuck, he just turned around.” 

Namjoon whips his head around so fast Hoseok can’t help but think about that one scene in The Exorcist. However, he’s not expecting what happens next; the laughter currently falling from Namjoon’s lips is so out of left field it leaves Hoseok completely flustered. 

“What the hell is so funny? And freaking keep it down, will ya? I don’t want him to notice me,” Hoseok begs in a loud whisper. 

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just that I know who that kid is, and, well, life is certainly ironic. You make fun of me for liking Jin, but here you are pining after his little brother.” 

“Wait, Jungkook is Jin hyung’s what? Are you sure? They have different family names,” Hoseok comments, flabbergasted by Namjoon’s words. 

“Mmm, Seokjin’s mother remarried a couple of years after his father died. Jungkook was born when Jin was six,” Namjoon informs him, like the Wikipedia of Kim Seokjin that he is.  

“You know it’s creepy how much you know about a man you’ve barely talked to,” he tells Namjoon. 

“What? We’ve talked, and Yoongi told me this. I didn’t even ask,” Namjoon interjects, pointing at Yoongi, who’s standing behind the counter laughing with the brothers. 

“Sputtering like a stalled engine when he said hello does not count as talking, Namjoon-ah, and are you  really  gonna bla-” 

“Hyung?” Jungkook’s voice interrupts Hoseok cutting him off. 

“Shit,” he whispers under his breath, pinching Namjoon on the leg when he chuckles. 

“Ouch!” the lanky blonde exclaims. 

“Jungkook, hi,” Hoseok greets, turning in the boy’s direction after lasering Namjoon with a gaze that he hopes says if you say anything to embarrass me,  I’ll tell Seokjin everything.   

“What are you doing here? Do you know my hyung?” Jungkook questions, taking two steps in Hoseok’s direction before stopping. 

“I come here a lot, actually. Yoongi hyung’s one of my closest friends,” he informs the young man. 

“For the record, Hoseok and I have met,” Seokjin pipes in. “The real question’s how do you know Hoseok?” 

“Uhm, I, we—” Jungkook sputters. 

“I’m the TA in his Dance Theory class,” Hoseok offers, jumping in to help Jungkook who currently looks like a deer caught in headlights.   

“The TA is his danc—wait not the—” Jin suddenly stops speaking, turning to Jungkook, who’s as red as a tomato, and patting the boy on the back. “I guess we have some things to talk about later, huh kiddo.”  

“Yes, hyung,” Jungkook’s voice wavers. 

“Don’t sound so scared. I was wondering how long it would take you to figure out,” Jin announces, and Hoseok can quite literally see the relief rolling off Jungkook.  

“Okay, hyung.” This time, the response is brighter. 

“Anyway, you, mister stares worldlessly,” Seokjin states, pointing to Namjoon. 

Namjoon gawks at the man, pointing his index finger at his chest, and if not for the fact that Jungkook currently has all his attention, Hoseok would be laughing at his friend’s look of surprise. 

“I’ve told you a hundred times, hyung; he’s not mute,” Yoongi says with a roll of his eyes. 

“Well, he doesn’t speak to me,” Jin states matter-of-factly. “Anyway, whether you talk or not, please come here. Let’s give my brother and Hoseok some privacy.” 

Namjoon hurries out of the booth at the speed of light, leaving Hoseok no time to protest.  

“Hyung, wh-what are you doing?” Jungkook mumbles in shock as Jin pushes him in Hoseok’s direction while simultaneously dragging a very red-faced Namjoon toward him. 

“Hoseok-sshi, would you mind walking my dongsaeng home? I was supposed to, but—" Jin turns toward Namjoon, a mischievous smile playing across his plush lips. “I decided to see if Yoongi was telling the truth about this one.” 

Honestly, as much as Hoseok wants to spend time with Jungkook, the thought of being around as Jin torments Namjoon is almost equally as tempting. He makes eye contact with Yoongi, who is trying but failing to hide his laughter. He doesn’t get to stick around, as Jin animatedly pushes both him and Jungkook out the door of the café with a big smile.  

“God, this is so embarrassing,” Jungkook whines as they stand on the sidewalk facing each other. 

“Older siblings are like that,” he tries to comfort the boy. 

“I-I never told him that my date was a guy. I literally froze when he figured it out,” Jungkook admits. 

“I saw,” Hoseok tells him. “But it seems like he’s taking it well.” 

“Mmm, maybe it won’t be so hard to tell my parents,” Jungkook muses mostly to himself. “Hyung, wanna go get ice cream?” Jungkook asks suddenly, eyes wide and innocent, and Hoseok couldn’t say no even if he wanted to. 

“I would love too,” he tells the younger man.  

The smile Jungkook graces him with is bright and excited, and yeah, Hoseok may be just a wee bit enamored.  

TUESDAY  

Namjoon’s smart, like, really smart. Everyone who knows him is aware of this. If his brain prowess could be used for something other than spouting scientific facts or injecting random facts during movies, he’d wish for the ability to have just half of Yoongi’s natural swag. 

“Talk to him,” Yoongi repeats for what Namjoon calculates to be the fiftieth time since sitting in the booth in front of him. 

“If I could talk to him, hyung, don’t you think I would have used ALL my words on him already?” he retorts, somewhat irritated, not at Yoongi, but at his own inability to get his big brain to work in the presence of Kim Seokjin. 

“Joon, you can. If anyone can use words, it’s you,” Yoongi acknowledges teasingly. 

“Ha ha, very funny, hyung. I feel like you and Seok enjoy my pain a bit too much,” Namjoon whines. 

“It’s not that we enjoy it as much as we enjoy finally being smarter than you in something,” Yoongi jokes, and Namjoon pouts. 

“I like him so much, hyung. It’s stupid, too, because I’ve literally never spoken to him, which is also stupid. That’s it, I’m no longer smart, I’m stupid,” Namjoon bemoans. 

“You’re not stupid, Joon, we both know this. Everyone deals with their feelings differently, and I get it, Jin hyung can be very intimidating. But his looks aside, Joon, he’s a genuine guy who wants to make people laugh, and second only to you, he is one of the most loyal people I know,” Yoongi explains. “You don’t have to regale him with philosophy or grandiose ideas about life. Just say hi and see where it goes from there.” 

Yoongi’s words are comforting. Maybe, Namjoon thinks to himself, it’s not about impressing Kim Seokjin as much as it is about opening a door or window to the opportunity to impress Kim Seokjin. He takes a deep breath, gathering all his confidence.  

“You only live once, right?” he says, mostly to himself, but Yoongi nods at him anyway. “Okay, I’m gonna go and just say hi. At least let him know I can talk, right? Right, I should just go over there, to that counter over there, where he Kim Seokjin is standing looking all otherworldly and shit, and say hi. I should. It’s what I should do.”  

It is what he should do. It is. But moving from the booth is harder than Namjoon expects.   

“I am giving you two seconds to gather your courage,” Yoongi starts, “before I kick your flat ass out of this booth. You deserve this, Joon. Don’t talk yourself out of it. You got this.” 

Slowly, trepidatiously, and with great apprehension, Namjoon makes his way out of the booth. His steps toward the counter, where Jin’s bent down rearranging freshly baked cupcakes in the case, are shaky at best. He stands unnoticed for a few moments as he works up the courage to speak. 

“Hi, Jin hyung,” the words come out less rickety than he expected them to, and Namjoon’s proud. 

His eyes widen, and he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks as Jin stands up and stares at him, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

“Well, fucking finally, Kim Namjoon. It took you long enough,” the man declares.  

Hoseok moves like water, fluid, smooth, as though he is the music he’s dancing to, these are Jungkook’s thoughts as he watches the man. He had accidentally-on-purpose bumped into the TA as they entered the Performing Arts building. Hoseok doesn’t need to know Jungkook’s been loitering outside the building for most of the day in hopes of running into him. Hoseok suggested they share a room, and Jungkook was not about to say no to the request.  

This is how Jungkook ends up sitting on the floor, watching in awe as Hoseok runs through his routine for the year-end show. 

“Wow, you’re impressive, hyung,” Jungkook praises the man. “You have such great body control. It’s one of the things I’m still learning to master. Not only that, watching you feels like I’m not just listening to the music but seeing it come alive as well.” 

“You know I already like you, right? You don’t have to compliment me to get on my good side,” Hoseok teases with a wink as the thousand-watt smile on his face threatens to blind Jungkook. 

“I would never lie about dancing,” Jungkook starts before Hoseok’s complete statement settles in his brain. “Wait, you-you like me?” 

It’s not that all the signs aren’t there. The man smiling at him, the subtle flirting, walking him home, but this is all new to him, and Hoseok could just be extra friendly.  

“That wasn’t clear when I said I wanted to see you again?” Hoseok asks, and Jungkook is not sure how to answer. 

“Honestly, hyung, it’s new to me, ya know? I’ve dated, but I’ve never wanted to see someone again. But I’d say, ‘next time, let’s fill in the blank’ to not sound like a complete jerk. So, yes, even though you said you wanted to see me again, I wasn't sure if you meant it or if you were just... being nice,” he admits.  

If Jungkook is one hundred percent honest with himself, a substantial part of him already knew that Hoseok meant it, but his own fears and insecurities have kept him from fully believing it.  

“I don’t play games, Jungkook, not with people’s emotions,” Hoseok begins. “I promise always to say what I mean. So, if it’s not clear, let me clarify. I like you. I shouldn’t, but I do. You’re a dichotomy—sweet and innocent wrapped in a hella sexy, bad-boy, jock shell. I want to push past the layers and see the real you. Like you, I haven’t been this interested in someone in a long time, but something about you tells me you’re worth the effort.”  

“Yo-you think my shell is sexy?” Why that’s the question that comes to his brain, Jungkook will never know. 

Hoseok smiles at him, a quick chuckle that makes his eyes spark with mischief, and not for the last time, excitement and anticipation trickle down Jungkook’s spine.  The TA doesn’t immediately answer; instead, he walks to the stereo in the corner of the room and hits play. GO by Deliah starts to play, bouncing off the walls and sinking into Jungkook’s gut. He swallows hard, eyes fixed on Hoseok who’s slowly advancing toward him like a lion on the hunt for prey, and once again, Jungkook can’t help but admire the way the man moves.  

“Dance with me,” Hoseok whispers, snaking an arm around Jungkook’s waist, pulling him flush against his chest.  

Without thought, Jungkook succumbs to the music, Deliah’s melodic flow, and the heat of Hoseok’s body mixing with his own. It’s every romantic teen music arc come to life, that pivotal point in the movie when the main character realizes their crush likes them back, and they have the moment. This is Jungkook’s movie moment.  

They move well together, he and Hoseok. They balance each other out. Hoseok fills in what Jungkook lacks without taking over. He smells good, too, really, really, good. Jungkook’s always been sensitive to scents, he has a bathroom filled with lotions and perfumes to prove it, and Hoseok’s aroma is both pleasing and addicting. Jungkook can’t stop himself from leaning closer into the man as they dance, taking in more of Hoseok’s citrusy fragrance.  

When the song comes to an end, Jungkook finds himself with his back against the mirror and Hoseok standing in front of him, looking every bit like the leading male heartthrob, about to move in for the kill, and Jungkook wants to be slain. Maybe it’s the way Hoseok stands mere inches from him, chest heaving from their dance, sweat trickling down his face, tracing along his jaw. Maybe it’s the fact that Jungkook has wondered about the man’s lips against his own more times than he’s like to admit since meeting Hoseok that first day of class.  

Whatever the reason, it’s Jungkook, not Hoseok, who leans in, closing the distance and crashing their lips together. The kiss feels like falling in love. Ed Sheeran’s song begins playing in Jungkook’s mind, and he angles his head, allowing Hoseok deeper access. The TA’s hands grip hard on Jungkook’s hips, holding him in place as he licks expertly into the younger man’s mouth, pulling out feelings and desires Jungkook never knew he had. It’s intoxicating and heady the way Hoseok makes him want more, more, more, but of what, Jungkook can’t fully grasp, his mind so lost, drowning in a pool of untapped desires.  

Hoseok’s the first to pull away, and Jungkook moves forward, chasing after the man, not wanting how he feels to end. They don’t say anything; words are not what’s needed right now. A new door has opened up to Jungkook, and he can’t wait to explore what’s on the inside. 

Thursday  

“Jimin, did you know,” Taehyung starts, eyes glued to the computer screen, “that penguins mate for life?” 

“I did not, but I expect nothing less from the most adorable creatures on planet earth,” Jimin tells him, eyes focused on Taehyung who hasn’t lifted his head, sitting cross-legged on the bed with his laptop resting on his thighs.  

“Mmm, they are the cutest, aren’t they? Did you also know, Jimin, that I mate for life as well?”  

Jimin doesn’t sputter exactly, not really, not as badly as he could have. Taehyung’s statement does, however, throw him completely off kilter. It’s no secret that he has a massive crush on the slightly younger man. He hasn’t tried in any way to be subtle about it, but up until this moment, it seems as though all his blatant hints have gone unnoticed by the object of his desire. 

He doesn’t respond; he’s not sure where Taehyung is going, and he doesn’t want to say anything that might make the situation uncomfortable. 

“What, you’re not going to tell me I’m the most adorable?” Taehyung throws out after a beat of silence. 

Jimin chuckles, happy he stayed quiet. 

“You are the most adorable Taetae, but I’m sure you already know this,” he tells his friend. 

“I do, but it sounds the best when you tell me, Minnie,” Taehyung tells him with a cute giggle. 

“Has Jungkook talked to you about Hoseok?” Jimin needs to change the subject.  

“Only to say thank you for the blind date, but apart from that, he’s been pretty tight-lipped. But he seems happier. Hoseok hyung, too,” Taehyung replies.  

“Ahh,” Jimin mumbles, not sure what else to say.  

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung starts slowly, cautiously, and Jimin feels a nervous bug crawling around his stomach. 

“Mmm,” he murmurs. 

“Why’d you change the subject? Did I say something wrong?” 

“Wrong? No, no, Tae. It’s just, gosh, this feels, I—” Jimin sighs, he knows he’s fighting an internal battle he will most likely lose. “Honestly, I’m not sure what answer you’re looking for, and I don’t want to give you the wrong one.” 

“Answer? It wasn’t a question, though.” Taehyung seems truly confused.  

“It is, and it isn’t. Gaahhh,” Jimin exclaims, irritated by his lack of words. “Look, Tae, can I be super honest with you? And no matter what I say, will you promise it won’t be weird between us?” 

“No matter what you say, Jimin, I promise it will never be strange or weird between us,” Taehyung pledges, holding up his pinky.  

Jimin takes a deep breath; it’s now or never. He thinks about Jungkook stepping out of his comfort zone and finding Hoseok, and it dawns on Jimin that, while he encourages others to go after their dreams and desires, he never takes his own advice. But Taehyung is here, sitting in front of him with questioning eyes that seem almost hopeful, and he wonders if his friend feels the same as he does. There’s only one way to know for sure. 

“Please don’t hate me after this, but I like you, Taehyung. A lot. You’re kind of perfect, and it’s very hard to only be your friend. But if friendship is all you want, I’m down, because it would be even harder not to be a part of your worl-” 

It happens so suddenly Jimin’s brain doesn’t register it at first, Taehyung’s soft, inviting lips pushed against his own. The kiss is brief, fleeting, like butterfly wings flapping against a leaf, but it’s perfect. Perfect.  Taehyung pulls away, a sweet boxy smile on his lips, eyes shining. 

“I like you too, Jimin. So much. I wanted you to like me so badly, but I’m a spaz, and I didn’t think you would because you’re so out of my league,” Taehyung confesses. 

“Out of your league, are you kidding me right now? Taehyung, I’ve watched people faint just because you walked into the room. Pretty sure you’re the one out of my league,” he corrects the slightly younger boy. 

“That was one time, and she was having an asthma attack,” Taehyung quickly interjects, causing Jimin to giggle. 

“Okay fine, we’re both out of each other’s league, so how about we create a league of our own,” Jimin suggests, grinning like the Cheshire cat. 

“Oh, I see what you did there. Jungkook would be proud. Okay, so rule number one of our league. Kisses must be in multiples of three,” Taehyung instructs before closing the distance between them yet again. 

This time the kiss is not chaste, nor is it brief, and Jimin thinks rule number one is his favorite rule.  

“Jungkook, is that you? Oh, wow, dude, it’s been ages. How are you?” The voice is familiar, and it takes Jungkook a minute to register why he knows it. 

“Haechan?” Jungkook responds after a bit.  

“Dude, I can’t believe it. It’s been what, like, two years since you left home? I didn’t know this is where you ended up?” Haechan fires question after question. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a chuckle. “I moved out here for school, right after graduation. How are you? How are things back home?” 

“They’re good. I’m here on vacation with a couple of friends. I saw your mom at the market just last week,” Haechan tells him. 

“Oh, she didn’t mention it,” Jungkook says, trying to recall his last conversation with his mother. 

“She was mostly catching up with my mom. I saw her as she was walking away. We didn’t talk or anything.” 

“Ahh.” 

“Can I take your order?” the female behind the counter asks. 

They’re standing in line at the Uncle’s Coffee down the block from Jungkook’s dorm. He frequents it often.  

“One Americano, please,” he orders before turning to Haechan. “Hey, what are you having?” 

“Same, Americano. God, I miss your brother’s coffee. How is Jin hyung?” 

“He’s doing good. He actually owns a café of his own. I’ll give you the address before we leave.” Jungkook adds Haechan’s coffee to his order. 

They sit for a bit and catch up. Haechan tells Jungkook about all the changes in their hometown, including the latest gossip.  

“Jongho and Hongjoong are in a relationship,” Haechan blurts out abruptly, the man’s voice suddenly thick with anger. “Can you believe it? It's so unnatural. I mean, they’re guys. That’s so gross.” 

Jungkook doesn’t immediately answer. He can’t. It’s not that he ever had any issues with same-sex relationships, hell Jimin is the gayest gay he knows. But, up until recently, Haechan’s words wouldn’t have affected him past the stupidity of thinking this way in the year twenty-twenty. But now the words cut deep, and Jungkook can’t help the worry that seeps into his gut. 

“You can’t help who you love, I guess,” he answers Haechan but doesn’t expound. 

“I guess. It’s just weird,” Haechan responds as he drinks the last bit of his coffee. “Thanks for the coffee, Kook. I have to get going. I’m meeting my friends in a bit. I’m happy I got to see you.” 

They say their goodbyes, and Jungkook watches as Haechan walks in the direction of the train station. His heart is heavy; his friend’s words have a more significant effect on him than he expected.  

Jungkook’s phone buzzes to life in his pocket as soon as he steps into his dorm room. It’s Hoseok, and Jungkook contemplates whether or not to answer. He does. 

“Hyung, hi,” he answers the call. 

“Hey, I was planning on getting a little practice in today, checking to see if you want to join me?” 

Jungkook’s mind jumps to their last meeting in the practice room. The moment Hoseok had him pinned to the mirror plays vividly on the big screen in his head. It’s confusing, the desire to relive that moment and the fear of what people might think. 

“Sorry, hyung. I can’t today,” he declines Hoseok’s offer. 

“Oh, alright. Is, is everything okay?” Hoseok asks, and Jungkook doesn’t have the fight in him to lie, but he also doesn’t want to explain what he’s feeling.  

“Just have some things on my mind, hyung. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Jungkook tells the TA before abruptly disconnecting the call. 

He tosses his phone on the couch once he hangs up. The last few days with Hoseok have been the freest Jungkook has felt in a long time. It finally felt like he’d found the part of himself that was missing. He likes the man. He does. But he’s always been the person to live his life based on other’s perception of him, and he’s worried that if he breaks the myth that everyone believes, the people he cares the most about will stop loving him.  

He plops onto the couch and releases a dramatic sigh before picking up a pillow and holding it over his mouth as he screams. Why now? Why this moment, when he’s finally found contentment and happiness, why did it all fall apart now?  

Hoseok looks at his phone, surprised by Jungkook suddenly disconnecting. He’s spent enough time with the boy over the past several days to know the action is out of character for Jungkook.  

“What’s up? You look perplexed,” Namjoon comments. 

“I’m not sure. Jungkook just hung up on me. I mean, he wasn’t rude, and he said he’d talk to me later, but then he just kind of disconnected. I don’t know why, but I feel like something’s wrong,” he explains to his friend. 

“Maybe he just has a lot going on,” Namjoon inserts.  

“Maybe, but I don’t know, man. I just can’t shake the feeling,” Hoseok repeats, eyes glued to the phone as though willing Jungkook to call back and say the call dropped. 

“Or you could go find out. We both know you won’t have peace until you know what’s going on, and I can’t have you being mopey and whiny around me. It’s terrible for my complexion, and Jin hyung likes my complexion,” Namjoon jokes, lightening the mood.  

Hoseok chuckles at Namjoon’s joke, happy to see his friend finally making progress in the Kim Seokjin arena.  

“You know what, you’re right. I won’t be able to concentrate on anything until I know everything’s alright. Would it be weird if I went to his dorm?” Hoseok asks, unsure of the next steps. 

“You guys are friends, right? Nothing strange about stopping by to see a friend,” Namjoon tells him, and it sounds reasonable enough.  

He and Jungkook may not have a defined title of their relationship, but he does consider the boy a friend. 

“Okay, I’ll do it.” 

Hoseok stops in the foyer on the way to the door to put on his shoes. He’s nervous, and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s going to Jungkook’s home without an invitation, or if he’s worried about the feeling in his gut telling him something is wrong. 

The walk from his dorm to Jungkook’s calms Hoseok somewhat. The brisk, cool air is refreshing, and the campus is quiet for a Thursday afternoon. Upon his arrival at Jungkook’s dorm, he doesn’t immediately go inside. Instead, he takes a moment to gather his thoughts and figure what he wants to say. Once he feels centered enough, he walks through the glass doors and down the hall toward Jungkook’s apartment. 

“Hyung, what are you doing here?” Hoseok can hear the surprise in Jungkook’s voice as he opens the door. 

“I, uhm—it’s just, you didn’t sound like yourself earlier, and I just wanted to make sure everything is alright,” Hoseok confesses. 

Jungkook looks tired, not in the sense that he lacks sleep, but more so emotionally. The bunny smile that Hoseok has grown so fond of is nowhere to be seen, and the excited sparkle that lights Jungkook’s dark brown eyes is gone, leaving in its place what Hoseok can only describe as sadness. Yes, that’s it, sadness. Jungkook looks defeated and sad. 

“Come in, hyung,” Jungkook finally offers, swinging the door open enough for Hoseok to enter. “I ran into a friend from my hometown today, and well, let’s just say the conversation left me wondering about some recent choices I’ve made.” 

“Recent choices?” Hoseok questions as he and Jungkook sit on a brown couch in the center of the living area.  

“Yeah, my friend Haechan and I were talking about two of my other friends who, who—well,” Jungkook begins with a sigh. “Who’re now in a relationship, a same-sex relationship. Haechan sounded so angry and disgusted by the whole thing. These were our close friends, like, we hung out all the time, slept at each other’s house and shit. But to hear him talk about them with such disdain, it hurt.”  

“Wow, I’m sorry, Jungkook, that must have been hard for you to hear,” Hoseok replies. 

“What if this is just a phase, hyung? What if I destroy my life and distance my friends, maybe even get kicked out by my family, and it turns out not to be real?” Jungkook sounds distraught, and Hoseok wants to wrap his arms around the boy, but he knows it would just make things worse. 

“I can’t answer that question for you, Jungkook. Only you know what’s right or wrong for you. You have to decide if following this path is what you want, or if living up to other people’s expectations of you is more important.  Just know that people will always have beliefs of who and what they think you are, but only you can know the real you,” Hoseok offers Jungkook the best advice he can. 

“I don’t know what I want, hyung. Wait, no, that’s a lie. I know what I want, or what I think I want. What I don’t know is if it’s what’s right, not just right for me, but right, right,” Jungkook rambles.  

“How can something that’s right for you not be the correct choice, Jungkook?”  

“People make wrong choices thinking they’re right all the time, hyung. I want to eat chocolate all day and play video games twenty-four-seven, but doesn’t make it right, now does it?” Jungkook throws out. 

Hoseok knows that, deep down, Jungkook knows the two situations are not remotely the same. He also knows that right now is not the time to try and reason with the younger man. He’s looking to fight, looking for a reason why following his desires are wrong, and Hoseok will not be the one to give it to him. 

“You’re right, they do. I’m not here to argue with you, Jungkook. You know where I stand, how I feel, and where I’d like our relationship to end up, but you have to decide for yourself what’s right and what you need to live your life. My offer still stands: if you want to take the next step, come to class on Tuesday. Just show up, and that will be all the answer I need,” Hoseok tells the boy solemnly.  

Getting up from his seat, Hoseok pats Jungkook on the shoulder before walking to the door. He’s been down this road before, questioning your choices, afraid of how others see you. He knows from experience all the good advice in the world won’t help a person who only wants to wallow in their fear.  

Friday -Saturday  

Jungkook has watched all his favorite eighties movies, twice, complete with yelling at the top of his lungs at Sam’s family for forgetting her birthday, an action that found Jimin coming into his room to throw a pillow at him and telling him to be quiet, that he doesn’t live in a frat house. All in all, Jungkook would give himself a solid C plus for the handling of his current emotional breakdown.  

Sunday  

“Are you watching Frozen?” Jimin questions, brows arched almost comically. 

“No, I’m watching Frozen two,” Jungkook replies, sticking another spoonful of The Tonight Dough in his mouth. 

Apparently, Frozen Two is all that’s needed for Jimin to ascend to his final boss form. Jungkook really can’t blame his friend for being irritated. He’s been a crabby hermit for the past few days wallowing in his misery and snapping at people he loves for no reason.  

“Look, I love you. You’re one of my best friends in the world, but this behavior is stupid. The choice about your life and who you love is yours to make, Jungkook,” Jimin scolds, but there is no malice in the man’s tone. “Stop acting like how you’re feeling is someone else’s responsibility. If you like Hoseok, then freaking do something about it. Who the fuck cares about your dumb ass homophobic friend from high school? You’re a grown man, stop whining.” 

Jungkook blinks at his friend’s outburst. It’s rare to see Jimin this riled up, and he’s pretty confident not even the Hulk could take Jimin in his final form.  

“You’re coming out of this room today, Jeon Jungkook. Now get ready. We leave in ten.” 

Jungkook doesn’t argue. It’s pointless. Jimin will just pull him out of the dorm in his dirty sweats and stained tee without batting an eye. He draws on a pair of black skinny jeans and an oversized white t-shirt. Looking in the mirror, he deems himself presentable enough for public consumption.  

Taehyung’s standing in the living room with Jimin, looking like a supermodel, making Jungkook feel entirely underdressed. 

“Hyung, you’re here too?” he asks, startled.  

“Mmm, Jiminnie invited me to hang out with you guys. I haven’t seen you in forever, Jungkook. You haven’t left your room in days,” Taehyung says, and the worry in the man’s voice has Jungkook feeling guilty. 

“Sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I just have a lot on my mind,” he tells the older boy. 

“We’re here, Kook. You don’t have to go through things alone. You can talk to Jimin and me,” Taehyung informs him, and it’s not that Jungkook doesn’t know this, he just can’t seem to find the words to express what he feels 

“I know.” It’s all he can say. 

“Alright, let’s go. Nice to see you in human clothing, Kookie. Tae, fuck, you look amazing,” Jimin exclaims, looking the boy up and down with stars in his eyes. 

Taehyung’s smile is wide, boxy, stunning, and Jungkook realizes that the smile is solely for Jimin. 

“Wait, are you two—did you two,” he doesn’t continue.  

Jimin’s smile is answer enough. 

“Wow, I’ve missed a lot, huh?” Jungkook says sheepishly. 

“Yes, well, if you stopped being a mopey baby and talked to your friends, you might learn a few things,” Jimin barks, but there’s no bite. “Anyway, let’s go.” 

It’s nice to be out of the dorm, Jungkook begrudgingly admits to himself, but it’s even sweeter to watch Taehyung and Jimin interact. Nothing about the way the two are with each other seems unnatural or gross. The way Taehyung’s eyes shine with happiness just from being in Jimin’s presence has Jungkook thinking about Hoseok and how content and whole he felt around the man.  

He continues to watch his friends quietly, intently, from his seat in front of them. 

“What are you looking at?” Jimin turns to face him. 

“I was wondering how you knew that this was how you wanted to live your life?” he says honestly. 

“It’s not so much a choice, Kook. You can’t make yourself be something you’re not. Who you are is just who you are, you know? I’m gay, but that doesn’t make me less of a man. It doesn’t take away my masculinity or make me less human. You can’t spend your life living up to what others expect you to be. At some point, you have to be honest about who you are, and then live your life.” Jimin’s words sound familiar. Hoseok said the same thing. 

“You sound like Hoseok hyung,” Jungkook tells his friend. “He hasn’t even called. What if I spoiled everything? I like him a lot, hyung, but I’m scared of what will happen if I take that final step. It hit me hard when Haechan said those things, and then I thought about my family, and I just got scared, you know?”  

It feels good to talk, to get it off his chest.  

“I get that, Kook. Growing up is scary, whether you’re straight, gay, bi, whatever. But it would be even more frightening if you lived your entire life not being the real you, don’t you think?” 

“Jimin’s right, Kook. My family didn’t accept me being bi. Shortly after I came out, my dad got sick, and for a while, I blamed myself. It was rough, but one day, I realized he was ill because he had a disease. I didn’t cause it. It took a while, but my family and I have a better relationship now. They realize that who I like, doesn’t change who I am,” Taehyung confides.  

Jungkook’s honestly surprised by Taehyung’s story. The man always seems so cheerful, happy, and carefree. 

“Are you happy, hyung?” he asks Taehyung. 

“Yes, I am. I like who I am. I’m not perfect. I still have my flaws, despite what Jimin may think,” Taehyung says, then leans over, placing a kiss on Jimin’s cheek. “I’m not living someone else’s version of my life, and that’s the best anyone can hope for.” 

Jungkook listens, and this time the words don’t bounce off him like a ball hitting a wall. This time, they stick. This time Jungkook doesn’t only listen, he hears what’s being said. He thinks about Hoseok and how one smile from the man makes him happy.  

“Thanks for this, hyungs. I needed to hear this, all of this. I need to go somewhere. Right now. But I’ll see you at home later. I’m happy you two finally confessed to each other,” Jungkook thanks his friends before slipping out of the booth and jogging to the door. 

His brother’s café is not too far from where Jimin and Taehyung had taken him. The familiar ding of the bell is welcoming as Jungkook enters. 

“Jungkook,” Jin greets, looking up from the register.  

“Hyung,” Jungkook starts. “I like Hoseok hyung, and I need to know that you’ll still be my hyung, that nothing will change because of this.” 

“Jungkook, if I didn’t disown you after you threw up in my mouth when I was eight, then I never will. Why would you even think this?” 

“I ran into Haechan a few days ago, and he told me that Jongho and Hongjoong were dating, but he was so disgusted by it, and it scared me. I started to wonder, what if you, mom, and dad hated me or did want to see me again. I panicked,” he explains. 

“You’re my dongsaeng, Jungkook. Who you like won’t change that. Also, you don’t need to worry about mom and dad. If they didn’t kick me out after I came out, I’m sure they won’t do it to you their golden child,” Jin tells him with a wink. 

“Wait, hyung, you-you,” Jungkook doesn’t continue with the question, he feels happy, light, free. “I needed this, hyung. Now I just have to figure out how to face Hoseok hyung again. I freaked out on him, and now I’m not sure he wants to see me again.” 

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Jin offers, and Jungkook knows what he needs to do. 

“You’re right, hyung, there is,” Jungkook leans over the counter and pulls his brother into a hug. “Thank you for being the best older brother, and sorry for throwing up in your mouth.” 

Jungkook knows what to do. 

Hoseok told him. 

Tuesday  

“Shit, Jungkook, you scared the crap out of me,” Jimin exclaims, walking into the kitchen, eyes half-closed. “What are you doing up this early?” 

“I have class today,” he tells his friend, and he can’t stop the huge smile from spreading on his lips. 

“Class? Cla—oh wait, you’re going to Dance Theory?” Jimin asks, now fully awake. 

“Mmm, I’m paying for this education, so I should get the most out of it, right?” Jungkook teases. 

“Yes, you absolutely should; education is important, Jungkook. I’m glad you’re getting yours,” Jimin plays along. “Are you nervous?” 

“So nervous,” Jungkook admits. “What if I screwed it up? I like him so much, hyung.” 

“Jungkook, you’re adorable and hot as fuck. Hoseok hyung would be stupid not to give you another chance. Plus, I have it on good authority that he likes you just as much as you like him,” Jimin informs him. 

“Really?” Jungkook questions a bit too loudly. 

“Really,” Jimin tells him with a chuckle. “Now, drink your protein shake, and go gets yo man.” 

Jungkook surveys himself in the bathroom mirror several times. He’s wearing his favorite pair of blue jeans, the ones Jimin calls the booty boss, the rips in the knees and thighs showing just enough skin to pique curiosity. He ditches his signature oversized white tee in favor of a yellow button-up, which he tucks in his jeans, accentuating his slim waist. Taehyung once told him that yellow was his color, that it brought out all the right tones in his skin and made him look both fierce and innocent. Jungkook’s not sure what the older boy meant, but Taehyung always looks like he just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine, so it must be true.  

Taking one final look at his ensemble, Jungkook rates himself a solid eight-point-five. He’s satisfied with the effort he’s put in, and he prays that it’s enough to grab Hoseok’s attention. Grabbing his backpack, he flips it over his head on his back and exits his bedroom. 

“Well, fuck it up, Jeon Jungkook!” Jimin exclaims with a look of approval that makes Jungkook’s confidence soar. “You’re fixing to get snatched for reals.” 

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, embarrassed by the attention.  

“Well, I’m not wrong,” Jimin tells him and gives him a thumbs up. 

“Thanks, hyung. Let’s hope all this effort works in my favor,” Jungkook responds, smiling at his friend.  

“It will, Kook,” Jimin encourages. 

The walk to class is as exciting as it is nerve-racking, and the butterflies in Jungkook’s stomach have multiplied by a thousand. His heart is pounding in his chest, and with each step, the thumps become more thunderous in his ear. Jungkook’s a wreck by the time he reaches the door to the lecture hall. He contemplates turning and running away, worried that, in this state, he’ll make an even bigger idiot of himself than he already has. 

Taking one final breath, Jungkook reaches out and pushes the door open. 

“Here goes nothing,” he whispers to himself as he enters the classroom. 

Peeking his head through the door, Jungkook assesses the situation. The class has fifteen minutes before it starts, and the room is at half capacity. A student pushes past him to enter the room, eyeing Jungkook with irritation as he walks past. Quietly, almost stealthily, Jungkook enters the room and takes a seat in the back. If things go awry, he can make a speedy exit. 

Neither Hoseok or Professor So have arrived, and Jungkook takes a moment to settle in by taking out his textbook and pen to take notes. One by one, students begin to trickle in, and before Jungkook knows it, the room is full. Professor So enters the room from the front, and the man’s presence has Jungkook’s heart rate picking up speed. 

“Welcome back,” the teacher greets. “I trust you all had a good weekend. We’ll be picking up where we left off in chapter four, resuming our conversation about dance and movies. But before we do, my TA, Hoseok, will take attendance.” 

Jungkook ears perk up, and he sits up a little straighter in his seat. A flurry of thoughts run through his mind. How will Hoseok react? Will he be happy, sad, mad, irritated? He knows the question will be answered shortly. Hoseok’s attention is focused on the attendance list before him, and Jungkook takes the opportunity to check the older boy out unabashedly. His hair seems a little longer, falling into his eyes as he reads. Jungkook never realized before this moment how illogically attractive Hoseok is. Yes, the man has beautiful skin and a perfect smile, but he’s also genuinely stunning, like a Monet come to life, and for a moment, the realization leaves Jungkook dumbfounded. 

“Lee Taemin,” Hoseok read on, still without looking up.  

All around the room, shouts of “here” and “present” can be heard. 

“Kim Woo Bin, So Chung-Ho, Bak Ji Na, So Eun Hwa,” Hoseok calls out the names one by one. “Kang Soo Bin, Jeo-” Hoseok pauses, and Jungkook thinks his heart may escape his body. 

Every so slowly, Hoseok lifts his head, eyes scanning the room, and Jungkook knows. He knows the man is looking for him, and his heart skips a beat. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” Hoseok says his name. 

“Here,” he answers. 

When their eyes meet, all of Jungkook’s fears melt away. There is no anger or irritation in Hoseok’s gaze. All that Jungkook sees as he looks into Hoseok’s beautiful brown eyes is hope. 

“Welcome,” Hoseok greets. 

Jungkook had every intention of greeting the man back like a normal human, but then, then  Jung Hoseok went and smiled one of those brilliant, awe-inspiring smiles of his, and all Jungkook can think to say is. 

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” 

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Hoseok replies, then adds, “Thanks for not missing it.”