Archive of Our Own

He’s there again today.

Yoongi always sees him around the corner just across the coffee shop, every day, at this exact time. He always crosses the street and passes by the shop, where Yoongi can watch him jog by from the other side of the huge glass window while enjoying his morning coffee. He’s always wearing sweats that hug his thighs too tightly, a loose white t-shirt that bounces and reveals a bit of toned skin at every step he takes, and a look of intense concentration.

He’s also really fucking hot.

“So there’s this new kid coming to my lessons – transferred to Seoul from Busan, right,” Hoseok is saying, gesturing animatedly, “and let me tell you, he's an absolute prodigy. It's ruining my life. I don't even know what he's even doing here, because all I can do is stare at his ass while he dances since it's more productive than trying to teach him anything– hey, are you even listening to me?”

“Yes,” says Yoongi. A lie, and an obvious one considering he’s not even trying to pretend he’s looking anywhere near Hoseok. 

Hoseok‘s eyebrows furrow, a slight pout forming on his lips. Behind him, Yoongi can see the hot jogger guy crossing the street over to Yoongi’s side, like he always does. He looks good today too, and it makes Yoongi want to sigh because it’s so unfair.

From the corner of his eye, he can see Hoseok watching his face too carefully, with narrowed eyes. Curiosity turned calculating. When Yoongi doesn't spare a glance at him, he turns around in his chair and angles himself towards the window, right as the jogger passes by.

For a split-second, Yoongi is pretty sure their eyes meet through the glass.

“Huh,” Hoseok grunts. “That guy is kind of cute.”

Criminally cute, Yoongi agrees privately. He manages to tear his eyes away before he says something he’s going to regret and rests his cheek in his hand, stirring his coffee with the other. “I don’t know. If you like guys who are super fit, I guess.”

Hoseok blinks at him owlishly. Yoongi can see the cogs turning in his brain. “Dude. Wait. Hyung. Were you checking out that jogger guy? Did you really just blow off my story about my hot mancrush just to stare at your hot mancrush?”

Yoongi doesn’t dignify that with an answer.

Hoseok turns back around and cranes his neck to watch as the jogger moves out of their field of vision entirely. Then fixes Yoongi with a look. “You did, oh my god,” he says. “Okay, this couldn’t have been your first time seeing this guy. How long have you been watching him over my shoulder?”

“I dunno.” Yoongi shrugs. “Like, two weeks?”

It’s closer to a month, but everything about that is just too sad to admit out loud. Yoongi doesn't even want to admit it to himself, let alone anyone else. Here he is, Yoongi, pining after some guy he's never talked to, who doesn't know he exists. Waiting every day like some sort of love-struck dumbass. Like hell he’s going to say it.

But Hoseok has always been able to read him better than anyone else, in that frustrating way of his. He's got a nose for sniffing lies and half-truths, especially – especially – when it comes to Yoongi, like some sort of bloodhound on steroids. Though, in Yoongi’s own defense, he doesn't make a habit of lying. Doesn't usually see the point. But that makes the lies even easier to spot, no matter how much Yoongi prides in his own poker face. So Yoongi knows he's been caught, because Hoseok lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a squeal and a shriek that turns the heads of every person around them. 

Yoongi kicks him under the table with a hiss. Hoseok just smiles, leaning in closer. “This is amazing. What do you like about him?” he presses in a conspiratorial whisper.

“His thighs are a national treasure,” Yoongi mumbles reluctantly into his hand, staring straight down at the table, as much good as that does right now. There's no use in hiding it. Not around Hoseok. “They're bigger than my entire head. His eyes are nice too, I guess.”

His eyes are big and shiny. A bit innocent, a bit sultry. Probably his best feature. 

Hoseok throws his head back and laughs. “Holy shit. Hyung, this is gold. I can’t believe you’ve got the hots for this random jogger guy. Seokjin is going to love this.”

“If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. I mean it.”

Hoseok leans back in his chair and grins sharply, and Yoongi regrets everything.

Hoseok seems to find the whole thing more hilarious than it really is. He teases Yoongi and giggles at him like a little school girl living vicariously through her best friend’s crush. He brings Yoongi’s Crush into every conversation he can, no matter how tenuously it relates to the topic at hand, not even trying to hide the fact that he exists to torture Yoongi. He even tries to get Yoongi's own housemate in on it. Thankfully, Namjoon couldn't care less about what Yoongi may or may not be going to the coffee shop every day for, but Hoseok alone more than makes up for the both of them. Yoongi just suffers through it and waits for the novelty to wear off.

A couple weeks later, the amusement fades into exasperation into incredulity, and when Yoongi finds himself staring at hot jogger guy again for those fleeting few seconds, Hoseok watches him with a frown.

“Okay, hyung, this is getting ridiculous,” he says. “You need to talk to that kid, right now. Blow him if you have to, I just need you to stop making heart eyes at the window every day.”

“Fuck no.”

Hoseok frowns. “Come on. What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity, for one,” Yoongi says. “There's no way he would look twice at me. I don't need the confirmation.”

“Hey, babe, don’t say that. You’re a catch.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You’re just obligated to say that because we’re platonic soul partners.”

“Well if we weren’t, I’d totally date you.”

“I know,” Yoongi says. “But I think you’re forgetting there’s also the fact that I can’t just run out after him and ask for his number, that would be weird. You know, like those creepy men who catcall women on the street when all they’re trying to do is walk to work.”

“You’re basically already one of those creepy men, hyung. Or should I remind you how you watch him every day to track the supple movement of his – and I quote – thick thighs?”

“Yeah, but. His face is beautiful, too, and probably his heart.” He saw him stop jogging to help an elderly lady cross the street once, so he thinks he’s at least eighty percent right. “Besides, I wouldn’t want some guy coming up to me like that. It’s weird.”

“Weirder than you watching him every single day?”

Yoongi remains pointedly silent.

Hoseok scans Yoongi’s face, each second dragging painfully into the next, then hums thoughtfully. “Who says you can’t just run after him, anyways? It might actually work, you know. It’d be better than you just staring at his thighs all the time.”

“Yeah? Like you stare at that pretty dancer’s ass all the time?”

“At least I talk to him on a semi-regular basis,” Hoseok says. “You just sit here every day, fantasizing about him crushing your head with his thighs to go with your morning coffee. You have to go out there, Yoongi.”

“I do not,” Yoongi says in response to both points, because Hoseok is wrong. Super fucking wrong. “I feel like I know what you're getting at, and I don't like it.”

“You just need confidence. You’re young and hot and not exactly rich but you make enough money to support yourself,” Hoseok goes on. “Your love life sucks because you just sit here waiting for something to happen and then pretend you don’t give a shit. You need to put yourself out there. Start jogging. Purposely run into him. If you’re lucky, he’ll notice you and approach you, and you won’t have to start a single conversation, which you're obviously too much of a baby to do.”

That makes Yoongi pause. Not because he's so desperate and thirsty at this point that he's actually considering it. God no. He just needs a moment to appreciate how truly awful that was.

“That's… possibly the dumbest thing I've ever heard,” he says slowly. “Let's assume for a moment this is going to work. How do you expect me to pull this off?”

“Right,” Hoseok says with a nod. He looks like he’s really thinking, and Yoongi realizes he’s probably just making this up as he goes because he didn't expect him to actually go along with it, which just furthers Yoongi's point that this is so many levels of dumb. “How about this: we wait outside here until he shows up, then follow him at a distance to get an idea of his route. That way–”

“Wait. Why are you a part of this?”

“To make sure you have someone to carry you back when you inevitably hurt yourself trying to do any form of physical activity, obviously. And it’ll look less like you’re stalking him if it’s the both of us.”

“I should just make you do it yourself, if that's how you feel about me,” Yoongi mutters. “You think I couldn't run without hurting myself? Fuck you, I could outrun your ass without even breaking a sweat.”

“Hyung, you can barely walk up the stairs without hyperventilating.”

“That’s not the same thing at all. Stairs suck for everyone. That's why they invented elevators.”

Hoseok, the bastard, smirks at him. “You’re just making excuses now. Just admit it. You wouldn't last a minute if you ran.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi leans back in his seat, crossing his arms and leveling Hoseok with a look. “I'll fucking show you.”

It isn’t until they’re standing on the sidewalk, half-stretching and half-watching-out-for-hot-jogger-guy to show up, that Yoongi has an epiphany.

“You tricked me,” he says. “You- you baited me into this. This is just one of your dumb plans to get me to go out more.”

Hoseok grins, and that's the only answer he needs.

Yoongi eyes him, frowning. “You don't think this is going to get him to notice me at all, do you?”

Hoseok smiles serenely at that. “It’s for your sake.”

“My ass. This is stupid. This is stupid and creepy. I'm going home.”

Hoseok, however, seems to agree to disagree. “I meant it when I said you’re young and hot and a total catch. Plus! It's good for you, and it might actually work, you know. How will you know if you don't try? C’mon, Yoongi, quitting is for losers.”

“It's not quitting if I haven't even started,” Yoongi mutters. He tugs at the fabric on his legs, pulling them and watching them cling back to his leg like some sort of vacuum seal on his skin. He hadn’t had any work out clothing himself, so Hoseok had taken it upon himself to bring some. “Why are these so tight? It feels like it’s been molded perfectly to my asscrack. I’m pretty sure you can see the exact outline of the hair on my balls.” The only reason he hasn't been arrested yet, he's sure, is because his shirt is just long enough to cover any indecency.

Hoseok peers over, his face a little too close for comfort. “Nope, no ball hair. But your legs look amazing.”

“My legs make me look like I'm trying to pick up men off the street.”

Hoseok laughs, because he’s not the one standing in public in the pants two sizes too small. “That would really get his attention. You sure you don’t want to–”

“No fucking way. What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m not going to prostitute myself for some super attractive jogger guy. I have standards.”

Never mind the fact that Yoongi is standing here, waiting for said attractive jogger guy to show up just so he can follow him, obviously. But that's Hoseok’s fault, so it doesn’t count. 

“It was worth a shot,” Hoseok says. “Doesn't hurt to keep your options open.”

Yoongi crosses his arms and fixes him with a look. “The way I see it, there are two options here: go home, and never listen to you again. They are not mutually exclusive.”

Hoseok, completely unfazed, claps Yoongi on the back. At least one of them is enjoying this, he thinks sullenly. “Come on, hyung, it’ll be good for you. When was the last time you exercised?”

“I did a push up once, when I was thirteen.”

“See? You need to move a little more. Maybe you’ll even like it.”

“As if.” Yoongi shifts on the balls of his feet, picking at his clothes some more. He's pretty sure Hoseok got him this stupid getup just for the sole purpose of humiliating him. It's all just some elaborate plan to see him suffer. “You can tell that I don’t jog. Or do anything. Even if I did, I'd still have no muscle mass. This is stupid.”

“I think you're just being too–” Hoseok starts, before getting distracted by something over Yoongi's shoulder. “Is that him?”

Some part of Yoongi's mind thinks that maybe he should be coy about this, shouldn't give Hoseok the satisfaction of seeing him so utterly enamored by this guy. But his body springs into action before his brain does. His head spins around, and maybe if this were a movie his hair would fan around him in slow motion as the jogger’s eyes meet with his own and sparks fly because there he is, in the flesh, closer to Yoongi than he’s ever before, close enough that if Yoongi wanted to, he could probably reach out and touch him. But he doesn’t, even though he’s not entirely convinced it would be a bad thing.

Fuck, his thighs really are huge.

The guy doesn’t even notice him, but Yoongi is pretty sure his mouth is hanging open dumbly as he watches his clothed but ridiculously toned back disappear to a tiny speck in his vision. He’s pretty sure his pulse flutters a little. Even Hoseok seems a little bit star struck.

A few moments pass where Yoongi feels like he’s forgotten something important. 

“Aw, shit,” Hoseok says. “We forgot to follow him.”

“So you’re telling me this–” Yoongi gestures at himself. “–was all for nothing?”

“It doesn’t have to be. You’re here now, let’s run,” Hoseok says. 

“Fuck that,” Yoongi says. “I’m never doing this again.”

He does it again. 

They get it right the next time. Sort of. They lose the guy about two minutes after, but on the bright side, they manage to tail him for two entire minutes, during which Yoongi doesn't hurt himself, which means Hoseok was completely wrong in his assessment of Yoongi’s running skills. A few days later, they’ve even got a pretty good idea of the guy’s jogging route. The guy doesn’t even notice he’s effectively gained two stalkers, which doesn’t make Yoongi feel any less like one at all. 

He’s still not convinced that any of this is by any definition a good idea, but for some reason he’s still letting Hoseok drag him along every morning. Not that it’s by choice, or anything. Fucking Hoseok shows up at his apartment, so chipper Yoongi likes to daydream about ways to wipe that dumb smile off his face, and practically carries him out the building every day to jog.

He doesn’t let Yoongi leave the house without wearing all of that dumb skin-tight jogging gear he got for him either, which he insists “shows off his assets,” whatever the fuck that means. Yoongi just feels one layer removed from being naked. Though that might be the point. 

With each passing day, Yoongi feels a little bit closer to death.

“This isn't working.” Yoongi drops into the armchair heavily, stiff and sweaty and waiting for the sweet release of death to finally take him. “He hasn't looked at me at all. The only thing I've managed to accomplish is develop a huge blister on my foot that looks suspiciously like a tumor. This is why I don’t exercise, it gives me cancer.”

“Well, I’m happy you’re taking initiative, hyung. Jogging is a great form of exercise. It strengthens your immune system and your heart, and it helps you feel better about life in general,” Namjoon says before furrowing his eyebrows. “Though maybe the last part doesn’t apply to you specifically.”

He’s pretty sure Namjoon is just taking the piss out of him at this point. “I don’t see you getting off your ass and running around, if it's as good as you say.”

“That's because I fill my daily quota of exercise by having excessive amounts of sex with my boyfriend,” Namjoon says, confirming Yoongi’s suspicions and effectively ending the conversation right there.

Asshole.

Just a couple days later, though, a miracle happens. Hot jogger guy looks at him.

He’s not hallucinating it, either, which would be his automatic assumption because it only takes him about five minutes to get lightheaded, presumably not much longer to start seeing things. They’ve crossed each other enough times for Yoongi to know what it’s like to be completely and utterly ignored. So when they pass each other and his eyes meet with those big, shiny eyes, Yoongi immediately feels like he’s floating, like his feet can take him anywhere.

And then he feels like digging a hole and crawling right into it, never to show his face to the world again.

“Just look at his face. What am I supposed to do,” Yoongi moans, dropping to the ground once the guy is out of earshot. He can’t do this anymore.

“You are so fucked,” Hoseok agrees with a grin, taking it all in with an especially vindictive sort of glee. “And not in the literal sense.”

Hoseok finally lets him loose when he decides Yoongi is ready to run alone without collapsing. Yoongi is not ready. Yoongi is never ready for any type of physical exertion. Hoseok is an idiot.

He does try, though. Hoseok gets updates from Namjoon, who is always up at the ass of dawn for whatever reason, because that’s what really smart people do, apparently. They wake up at unholy hours of the day and stare at the wall thinking about the meaning of life. So if Yoongi doesn’t go jogging, Namjoon will know, which means Hoseok will know, which means Yoongi will get a strongly-worded text about how he isn’t pulling through even after all of the help Hoseok provided.

Knowing this, Yoongi jogs alone for about a week hoping for something to happen. But nothing does. Hot jogger guy doesn’t look his way again. If anything, he seems to duck and conveniently swerve right out of Yoongi’s path whenever they’re near. Yoongi’s reached a sort of desperation where he wants something, anything to happen, but the guy has quick enough reflexes to dodge Yoongi even when he’s purposely trying to run into him.

He just keeps jogging by like nothing’s happening, and Yoongi doesn’t know if he’s doing it on purpose but it’s driving him insane. Maybe he’s too focused on whatever music is filtering through his earbuds to notice; sometimes Yoongi hears him hum along and he wonders what music he likes. His voice is beautiful, just like the rest of him.

Yoongi doesn’t even know where he went wrong.

It’s discouraging until Yoongi realizes there’s nothing about this arrangement that means he actually has to physically exert himself in any manner. As long as he goes out as usual and his friends think he’s jogging, he could be doing anything. It’s not like they’re watching his every move; at least, Hoseok hasn’t been able to turn on Yoongi’s geolocation yet. 

And that’s why Yoongi is currently at his favorite pizza place, eating a calzone and definitely not jogging.

It’s brilliant. He’s brilliant. He’s a genius, really. Screw hot jogger guy. Screw Hoseok. Yoongi is going to live the way he wants to, and what he wants is to make up for all the time he lost by listening to Hoseok, and definitely not think about the guy with the thick thighs who's slowly but surely ruining his life.

“Taking a break today?”

Yoongi turns to the voice with a scowl because who the fuck dares interrupt his calzone, and then very nearly spits out a mouthful of calzone right onto hot jogger guy’s face.

Thankfully, he doesn’t. But in his valiant effort to keep what’s in his mouth from causing any collateral damage to that stupidly attractive face, however, he chokes.

“Shit–” He can hear hot jogger guy shuffling in panic. A moment later, he feels a hand against his back, which… really doesn’t help at all. Yoongi just feels like dying more.

A bottle of water enters his vision, and he grasps at it. Doesn't stop to question where it came from or why, just takes it and chugs it. Miraculously, he doesn’t choke on the water too as he tries to get his coughing under control because he’s embarrassed himself enough already, he supposes.

For some inexplicable reason, hot jogger guy is still there when Yoongi somewhat composes himself. He’s staring at Yoongi with wide, panicked eyes, like he’s trying to figure out whether or not this is the time to administer the Heimlich maneuver – which, Yoongi thinks, would probably do more harm to him than good – though his gaze flicks away as soon as Yoongi catches it. Distantly, Yoongi realizes the water in his hand must be his.

“My savior,” Yoongi croaks once he’s sure he isn’t dying, offering the water bottle back.

“Thanks,” hot jogger guy says as he accepts the bottle. “I’m… glad you’re okay.”

“Me too.” Because nothing would have been worse than choking to death in front of him, of all people. Though, maybe that would have been better than whatever this is, because at least he wouldn’t have to face this right now.

The guy smiles a little. “I'm Jungkook, by the way.”

“Yoongi.”

Awesome. There’s one thing out of the way. He has a name now, but at what cost? As relieved as Yoongi is to finally be able to stop calling him “hot jogger guy” he really wishes he were anywhere else right now. Like in his bed, cocooned in his sheets.

“I’ve seen you around,” Jungkook says conversationally. “I just thought I would say hi. I didn’t mean to startle you like that.”

It’s not your fault, Yoongi thinks. It’s not like Jungkook could have known what his incredibly gorgeous face does to him. Then again, he must get mobbed on a daily basis with a body like that, so if Jungkook isn’t aware what his own existence does to people by now, maybe it is mostly his fault.

He shrugs, hoping it looks more nonchalant than he feels and trying not to focus on the fact that Jungkook remembers seeing him around. “It’s fine. I’m fine, perfectly fine.” 

You’re also very, very fine, he adds mentally because up close, it’s truer than ever.

Jungkook nods slowly, looking relieved. He glances around warily. Yoongi wonders if maybe he should have said something else, something better, but he has no idea what. 

Fortunately, Jungkook does. “Where's your boyfriend? He's not with you today?”

“What? My who?”

Jungkook scratches at the back of his neck. His eyes are so huge and round. “The guy you usually run with. He's your boyfriend, right?”

Yoongi makes a face. Hoseok? His boyfriend? Is this guy for real? “He's–” he starts before he sees Jungkook's face, and suddenly he doesn't have the heart to correct him. “Oh, right, him.”

Jungkook stares at Yoongi, then at his calzone. He looks sympathetic for some reason. Like Yoongi told him his dog died, or something. “I haven't seen him around lately. I guess you don't want to talk about it?”

Yoongi looks back at him blankly. Why wouldn’t he want talk about Hoseok? Sure, there isn’t much to say to someone who doesn’t know him personally, but Yoongi could talk about Hoseok for days. Hoseok is his best friend, his worst nightmare, and as of two seconds ago, his apparent boyfriend–

Oh.

Oh. Fuck it, Yoongi already looks miserable enough today, and he’s hardly got the energy to explain whatever the fuck he’s been doing the past few weeks. “We… we broke up. It wasn't working out. It happens.”

“I'm sorry.”

The craziest thing is, Jungkook really does look sorry to hear that. Even though they're complete strangers, he's looking back at Yoongi with those big, sad eyes. Yoongi feels bad about breaking up with his totally real boyfriend. What the fuck.

Like everything in Yoongi's life, however, he blames it on Hoseok.

“No, you know what? Whatever, screw him. He got me into this stupid mess. ‘Jogging is good for you!’ he says. ‘Let's jog together! It'll be fun and enriching!’ And then he fucking ditches me like I'm dirt,” he says, making sure his imitation of Hoseok is as derisive as possible, reaching octaves that are definitely outside of his vocal range. “Why did I listen to him? Now I've got nobody to run with, and I'm just here eating calzones alone like some sort of loser.”

Jungkook looks him up and down and Yoongi takes another bite out of his calzone for full effect, hoping he looks just the right amount of pitiful, and waits.

“I, uh. I could run with you if you want.”

Fuck yes. Score. That's one point for Yoongi, zero for Hoseok.

“You would? Really?” Yoongi says.

Jungkook nods. He seems unsure about it, but Yoongi is too pleased to mind. “It’d be fun to have someone else to run with. We can meet up somewhere beforehand. You can decide the route,” he says, and if Yoongi had known it would be this easy all along he would have dumped Hoseok ages ago.

Yoongi grins. “It’s a deal.”

They exchange contact information and Yoongi texts Jungkook his address, then promptly calls Hoseok to rub it in his face. The next morning, he finds Jungkook right outside his building, waiting for him like a lost puppy.

“Good morning!” Jungkook greets him, bouncing on the balls of his feet as soon as he sees Yoongi. He’s already so perky at this time of the day, it reminds Yoongi a bit of Hoseok. Except, when Jungkook greets him, Yoongi doesn’t feel the overpowering urge to throat punch him.

“Morning,” Yoongi says back, unable to actually comment on the quality of said morning. All mornings suck, especially the “waking up before the sun rises” kind, but at least he's got something to look at now. He hops down the steps leading out of the building, and mentally steels himself.

When Yoongi can bring himself to look at Jungkook again, Jungkook has frozen in place in favor of giving him a full-body stare. It’s unnerving, to say the least. Really fucking embarrassing and making him feel more self-conscious by the second, to say a little more. He’s wearing sweats and a sweatshirt today instead of that stupid tight shit Hoseok gave him, but he feels more overexposed than ever under Jungkook’s gaze.

“What?” he says.

“Um.” Yoongi watches Jungkook’s Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

Okay, he thinks. That was weird.

He’s not sure what to expect, really. Not sure what he wants to expect. Not from Jungkook, not from any of… this. He and Hoseok mostly dicked around or jogged half-assedly whenever Yoongi wasn’t trying his hardest not to trip on his face in front of Jungkook, but Jungkook actually runs.

Not only does he run, but he talks. A lot.

Yoongi isn’t sure if Jungkook is even aware that he’s speaking, but he can seriously talk. Which is okay, since Yoongi’s discovered he likes Jungkook’s voice. It’s boyish and smooth with a hint of nervousness that comes from their lack of familiarity, like Jungkook is just throwing out whatever he can hoping they click, but it’s nice to listen to. Yoongi mostly just lets the sound of it wash over him, anyways. 

But when he realizes Jungkook has been on some sort of tangent about kale for two entire minutes, not even noticing Yoongi is lagging a full meter behind, he comes to the conclusion that Jungkook is not human. 

“–And it’s not, you know, some weird fad taken over by hipsters and millennials or anything, like avocado toast or raw water. Kale is actually one of the most nutrient-rich foods on the planet.”

“Is it?” Yoongi manages to squeak between breaths, trying to sound interested and failing. He doesn’t know how Jungkook can sound so unaffected, while Yoongi can barely do anything but breathe. 

He’s taking everything he ever said back. He regrets all of it. Jungkook is a beast on two legs, and Yoongi's scrawny chicken legs can't keep up with his stupidly long stride. Jungkook doesn't even seem to notice or care how much Yoongi is struggling to keep pace, as distracted as he is by his monologue about motherfucking kale, which should not be making Yoongi think about going to the nearest grocery store and checking if they have any deals on kale. He doesn’t even know what kale looks like. 

“Well, it’s got all the important stuff, like Vitamins A, C, and K, and a bunch of antioxidants–”

Yoongi can’t really process what Jungkook says after that. It’s a lot of information that’s coming too rapidly at him for his brain to catch up and he’s not even sure Jungkook is speaking the same language anymore. He’s pretty sure he heard the word manganese at some point. Manganese is a smart person word. Jungkook must be a smart person. That’s nice. 

“Oh my god,” he chokes out. “Please… slow down. I’m going to die.”

Jungkook looks at him – or rather, he tries, before he realizes Yoongi is nowhere near him – clearly at a loss for words. He slows down a little too in his surprise, giving Yoongi a chance to breathe a little. Finally.

“Are you okay? Do you want to stop? We’re almost there.”

“Just–” Yoongi gasps for air. “Just slow down for a- a second, will you. If you say another word about kale, I’m gonna barf. And I’m going to aim for your shoes.”

Jungkook steps away warily. 

Their destination is the coffee shop, and Yoongi is more than happy to see it coming up in the distance. He doesn't quite make it to the shop itself, though, instead dropping to his knees about a meter away from the door and hoping the ground swallows him up before he really does puke on Jungkook’s shoes.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks. His eyes are huge. Why are they so huge?

“I’m alive,” Yoongi manages. “I could be… not alive. So I think I’m okay. Your concern is… appreciated.”

Jungkook huffs out a breath of laughter. “Well, I’m glad you’re alive.”

He smiles. Yoongi is suddenly glad he’s alive too. 

When he gathers himself again, he notes a little bitterly that Jungkook looks a million times better than he feels right now. Jungkook looks ridiculously good when he’s sweating. His hair clings to his forehead and neck and he looks slightly flushed. Yoongi could probably listen to an entire lecture about any vegetable if he gets to stare at Jungkook like this. It’s so unfair; Yoongi’s pretty sure he just looks like a drowned fish, himself.

Jungkook is giving him that weird stare again, which doesn’t help him feel better at all. “You’re… uh, nevermind. Nothing.”

“What?”

Jungkook bites at his lip nervously, his eyes avoiding Yoongi’s own like he thinks Yoongi is going to claw them out if they meet. “You’re very, uh, grumpy when you run.”

“Really,” Yoongi says dryly. “This is news to me.”

Jungkook opens his mouth. Then closes it.

“Oh, I get it,” Yoongi says. “You’re thinking, ‘no wonder he got dumped’, right? Well, let me tell you–”

“No!” Jungkook exclaims, looking slightly horrified at the accusation. His cheeks even darken a little. “No, I didn’t mean it like that! I just- I don’t know, wasn’t expecting that. I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.”

“You couldn’t have meant it as a good thing,” Yoongi says, enjoying the scene a little more than he should. “Nobody ever talks about grumpy things in a good way unless it’s about cats, and even then the cat is a genetic mutant.”

Jungkook ducks his head and mumbles something so softly, Yoongi doesn’t know if he actually heard it. Louder, he says, “You want to get some coffee?”

So. That went well. Yoongi tries his hardest not to think about what a complete dumbass he’s probably made himself to be as he stares out the coffee shop’s huge glass window, watching the people crossing the street. It’s been a while since he’s seen this view, but it’s exactly how he remembers it. Except, instead of staring over Hoseok's shoulder–

“Here you go.” Jungkook sets Yoongi’s drink down on the table, then seats himself across from him. Yoongi lets the reality slowly sink in, taking in the curves of Jungkook's face, the way he bites his bottom lip when he's thinking and it turns a little darker between his teeth.

The tables have turned now, for sure.

Jungkook taps at the sides of his cup. “So I was thinking…”

“Good for you,” Yoongi says before he can stop himself. Jungkook stares at him, open-mouthed, surprised at being interrupted, and Yoongi wants to kick himself. His friends are used to him being… him, and it’s only amplified when he’s tired and been overworking himself, but this is Jungkook. Hot jogger guy.

Yoongi realizes with a growing horror that he has no idea what to do when it comes to this kind of small talk. That this is a terrible idea. The worst of all bad ideas. Jungkook is going to realize what a massive waste of time this is if Yoongi keeps opening his mouth like this – not to mention his horrible display of athleticism earlier. 

He coughs, bringing his coffee to his lips and hoping he can get himself to shut up for a bit. “Still recovering from, uh, that jog. Sorry, go on. You were thinking?”

“Well.” Jungkook clears his throat. “I realized that I offered to jog with you, but I don’t actually know anything about you. Except maybe you seem interested in fitness.”

“Do I?”

Jungkook makes that face again, blinking dumbly at him. Right. No more talking for Yoongi. “Sorry. I guess your, um, boyfriend got you into it, right? But it's not a bad thing, necessarily. I think it suits you.”

Okay. Yoongi is pretty sure Jungkook is bullshitting him now because he has no idea where, in between threatening to puke on his shoes and nearly passing out in front of the shop, Jungkook could have gotten that idea into his head.

Jungkook looks flustered by Yoongi’s silence, but he continues on, “Anyways. It seemed like maybe you were interested, but didn’t know where to start.”

“So you’re saying,” Yoongi starts slowly, “you want to help me get better at… fitness.”

Jungkook nods. “Well, I’m a personal trainer. That’s what I do.”

Of course he is, Yoongi thinks. With a physique like that, it explains everything. And the kale. Especially the kale.

“Not that I’m asking you to hire me or anything! It’d just be for fun, of course,” Jungkook adds quickly. “But, well. The offer is there, I guess? No pressure.”

Just for fun, Yoongi echoes in his mind. It’s the exact opposite of Yoongi’s definition of fun, but the fact that Jungkook is the one who’s offering makes him pause. He leans in and rests his chin on his palms. “So what you’re saying is, you can help me get better at– this.”

Jungkook nods enthusiastically. “Of course! It’s what I’m good at.”

“And once I’m all fit and shit, I can rub it in Hoseok’s face and make him take back everything he’s ever said about me and my body.”

Jungkook pauses at that. “Hoseok? Is that your ex’s name?”

“The very same.”

Jungkook is chewing at his bottom lip again, eyes trained down into his drink. Thinking about something. Maybe regretting his offer. After a moment, he nods. “He’ll regret ever breaking up with you.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Yoongi says, and grins.

Jungkook’s eyes light up, and Yoongi knows right then he would never have been able to say no anyways.

Jungkook shows up bright and early the next day, except today he decides to invite himself inside. Namjoon greets him at the door, and Yoongi walks into the kitchen just in time to see him wide-eyed as he moves out of the way to let Jungkook in and guides him to sit. Jungkook sets down a suspiciously large bag in front of the couch before settling down himself.

Then he smiles and thanks Namjoon, and Yoongi can see Namjoon blushing all the way from where he’s standing.

“Told you he was hot,” Yoongi can’t help but whisper once Namjoon retreats into the kitchen with him.

Namjoon just looks at him, and then Jungkook, and shuffles petulantly away with one final glance at Yoongi. Laughing privately, Yoongi picks up the two cups of tea Namjoon set out for the both of them but hasn’t touched, and walks over to Jungkook. It’s a bit surreal, seeing Jungkook sitting in his apartment, but he likes it.

Jungkook smiles at him as Yoongi offers him the tea, greeting, “Good morning,” as he accepts his tea.

“Good morning,” Yoongi says back, because he actually means it today. He seats himself across from Jungkook, and wonders where to go from there.

Thankfully, Jungkook starts first. “I wanted to talk about what you might be interested in before we got started,” he says.

“You.”

Jungkook blinks.

Fucking smooth, Yoongi thinks as his brain catches up to his mouth. Of all the things he could have said. "I mean, I want to look like you. Yeah, that's right."

Jungkook laughs, sounding startled. Yoongi watches, fascinated, as his ears turn red. “Right. That's good to know – what kind of goals you wanted to set for yourself. Fitness-wise. So I can come up with something for you.”

His neck prickling, Yoongi says, “Well, I don’t know anything about… this, really. I guess all I can hope for is lasting longer two minutes. Jogging, I mean.”

“Stamina is important,” Jungkook agrees. “You’re already on the right track; jogging and running are both good for improving cardiovascular fitness. You’ll want to work on your muscular endurance too. We can set short-term and long-term goals for you together. I have a few ideas–”

Jungkook pulls a notebook out of his bag, and promptly launches into an explanation Yoongi can barely keep up with, so far out of his scope that he just sits there and nods every few seconds. Something about a fitness regimen that would work just perfectly for him and his needs. Never mind the fact that all Yoongi needs is to reach across and lick his teeth. Especially the two front ones, the ones that make him look like a bunny. The only thing that matters is how rapt Jungkook looks while he’s talking, the way his hands move while he’s explaining all this stuff he obviously cares so much about, and how wide his eyes are.

Jungkook explains all of Yoongi’s options, and he catches samples of things like fartlek and weight training somewhere in there. At that, he tries to imagine himself weightlifting. He immediately stops trying to imagine himself weightlifting.

By the end of it, he feels just as exhausted as he did when he was running, listening to Jungkook’s lecture about kale.

“–but first I want to get an idea of your current fitness level.”

Yoongi nods absently, until he realizes Jungkook is looking at him expectantly. “Right. My fitness level. Let’s just say, ‘nonexistent’.”

“Okay…” Jungkook says, and this time it’s his turn to look out of his depth. “Okay, I guess that might have been overwhelming for you. Let’s just start with jogging and work our way up.”

“Jogging sounds good. I can do jogging.” 

Yoongi is not nearly confident enough that he has any idea what he’s gotten himself into. He’s going to trust Jungkook to make better decisions than Hoseok, though, so at this point he’s just going to agree with whatever Jungkook says and hope for the best.

“I think I’ll let you think about it today. You seem like you need a break. Breaks are important too,” Jungkook says, smiling a little at him now. “I brought some stuff to help record your body composition, so we can do that and call it a day. You can fill this out while I measure your body fat percentage, and then we can talk about your goals.”

Jungkook fishes for something in his bag again and comes up with a clipboard and pen before handing them over to Yoongi. Yoongi reads words like height and weight on the paper and for the first time feels like he might actually be able to accomplish something. As he gets started on filling it out, Jungkook pulls out something metal and moves towards him. 

Yoongi eyes him warily. “Are you going to lobotomize me with that, or something?”

Jungkook laughs, a light, airy sound that does nothing to make Yoongi feel better. “Or something,” he says. “They’re calipers. Like the kind you might’ve used in your physics class to measure stuff, but for people. Don’t worry, it’s not going to hurt. Can you stand up?”

“I’m not worrying. I trust you completely. Why wouldn’t I? You’re about to stab me with some suspicious metal thing,” Yoongi mumbles as he acquiesces, acutely aware of the fact that Jungkook is moving in on him.

“I’m going to lift your shirt a little, okay?”

Yoongi nods, but despite that, is completely unprepared for the feeling of Jungkook’s fingers on his skin, hiking his shirt up a little around the waist. He tenses, expects something else to follow, but nothing does. There's a pause. Yoongi looks down, but all he can see is the fringe of Jungkook's hair covering his face, which is hovering way too close to Yoongi but not doing anything else.

He waits, wonders if this is just part of it. But with each second that passes where Jungkook doesn't move, he feels increasingly anxious.

“Um,” Yoongi says, and that seems to jumpstart him. Yoongi feels Jungkook exhale, followed by the rough pads of his fingertips squeezing at his flesh. He hisses as the calipers pinch his skin, unsure what feeling to focus on – the warmth of Jungkook, or the cold bite of the calipers.

The moment lasts way too long for Yoongi to handle, especially with how close Jungkook is, but he still feels disappointed when Jungkook moves away.

“You done with that?” Jungkook asks, nodding at the clipboard. Yoongi nods mutely and hands it back before realizing he has no idea what he's even written, amidst the distraction that is Jungkook and his calipers.

“You put down your weight as five kilograms,” Jungkook says, then looks at Yoongi appraisingly. “Not that I wouldn't believe it, though.”

Yoongi laughs in disbelief before flipping him off, trying not to think about how his skin prickles where Jungkook's fingers were.

It’s horrible.

That’s the only way Yoongi can describe this… fitness regimen. The more they introduce to his routine, the more certain he is that he wasn't put on this earth to move like this. He's not convinced anybody but Jungkook was. Jungkook and his dumb, beautiful thighs. And his abs, which Yoongi has conveniently discovered are rock-hard, because he accidentally punched Jungkook in the gut while turning around and it hurt him more than Jungkook. And his big eyes that light up whenever he talks about his work or after a run, or when they walk into a gym together for the first time and Yoongi tries very, very hard not to use everything he's gained from the past few weeks to run away.

Just horrible.

To be fair, Jungkook does everything he can to make it as easy as possible for Yoongi, but even Jungkook can’t do anything about Yoongi himself. Seeing him is enough to make Yoongi feel a little bit better about his life, but not enough to ease his soreness and aching body as he climbs into bed every night.

Somehow, despite the fact that Jungkook is the source of all his suffering, both mental and physical, Yoongi still can't stop bring himself to quit. 

Maybe it's the way Jungkook is there for him every morning, smile bright enough to rival the sunrise. Maybe it's the flush spreading across his cheeks and the few strands of hair out of place on his forehead when Yoongi can tell he woke up a little later and rushed just to be at Yoongi's place, right on time. Or, it could be the way he shyly treats Yoongi to tea afterwards and talks about anything and everything, his hopes for Yoongi and himself, and Yoongi can't help but smile.

They have similar interest in music, Yoongi finds out, even if Jungkook’s taste is irredeemably entrenched in Top 40 pop songs that he listens to during his workouts to pump himself up and ballads that he sings with the most heartbreaking voice. Yoongi shares his favorites, most of which is obscure, and is pleased when Jungkook at least pretends to like it – enough to add some tracks to his workout playlist, at least. 

They hang out even on days Jungkook has marked as breaks. Most of the time Yoongi spots Jungkook through his own routine, and desperately tries not to stare too hard at the way sweat drips down the lines of his neck. Sometimes, they just hang out. Talking, watching a show, playing a game. Sitting in companionable silence. 

Maybe it’s horrible, but a lot of times, it doesn’t feel so horrible. 

In the end, he thinks, maybe it's just Jungkook.

Right when he thinks he can just barely pull through, however, Jungkook decides he hasn't suffered enough.

“You really shouldn't be eating that.”

Yoongi stares at him over the kitchen island counter. “What?” he says around a mouthful of leftover pizza.

“You know…” Jungkook gestures at him. “I mean, we talked about how you would have to eat healthier, so I figured you were on board with it. You said you would throw out your junk food first.”

Did he? Yoongi doesn't remember. Then again, Jungkook could probably get him to agree to sacrifice babies to Satan if he just bats his eyelashes in Yoongi's general direction.

“I mean–” Jungkook scratches at his neck. “–I'm not forcing you, or judging you, or anything. Cheat days can be good in moderation. But it kind of defeats the purpose of working out.”

“Okay.” Yoongi nods slowly, still chewing his pizza. He takes another bite. “That makes sense, I guess. So you're going to, what, go through my fridge and get rid of everything that isn’t a vegetable? Because you’re going to have to pry this pizza out of my cold, dead hands.”

Jungkook eyes him, and– Yoongi really doesn't like the look on his face. “Is that a challenge?”

“It’s a declaration.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook moves a step forward, and Yoongi finds himself backing up on reflex. Jungkook takes another step closer, Yoongi takes two steps back, and it goes on until Yoongi's back hits the cabinets. As a last ditch effort, he shoves as much of the pizza into his mouth as he can and stares defiantly at Jungkook as the gap between them disappears, only to duck away because oh fuck is he too fucking close.

Jungkook makes a move for Yoongi’s hand, but Yoongi sees it in time to stretch it over his head, trying to keep it as far out of reach as possible. But Jungkook is too tall, too big, and he matches Yoongi easily. He twists around instead, turning his back to Jungkook, but Jungkook is relentless, throwing his full weight onto Yoongi to reach around him. 

Yoongi nearly wants to cry at the feeling, the tortuous drag of Jungkook's body against his own, the warmth of his breath tickling at the hairs on Yoongi's neck and leaving goosebumps in its wake, and the fact that Jungkook doesn't even seem to realize.

There's a firm pressure against him, and his mind suddenly can't tear itself away from the feeling of Jungkook's muscled thigh pressing against his ass, holy fuck this is happening –

“Am I interrupting something?”

Yoongi freezes and falls slack, pressing his burning face into the cool counter as Jungkook turns around, the heat of him leaving. He wonders if Jungkook looks as mortified as he feels, but he's too terrified to turn around. Whether because of Namjoon or Jungkook, he's not sure.

“Um.” Jungkook coughs awkwardly, and Yoongi wants to groan. “Nope. Just… pizza.”

“Pizza,” Namjoon echoes dubiously. “Okay, well, I'm going out for a bit, so… you kids have fun with your ‘pizza’.”

“Yeah, you too,” Jungkook says, sounding lost.

Namjoon doesn't leave quickly enough. When he hears the door finally close, Yoongi sighs and finally turns around.

Jungkook is standing in the middle of the kitchen, wide-eyed, and Yoongi is pretty sure the expression is mirrored on his own face. Jungkook's eyes flicker down to the pizza still in his hand, then away, and Yoongi can't think of anything better to do in the moment than continue on with his pizza. So that's what he does.

Yoongi chews at the crust of his slice in silence, watching Jungkook as he looks through the fridge. He’s been at it for a while now. Bent over, rifling through the lower shelves, taking in the tragedy that is Yoongi’s life. Every few seconds he tosses something onto the counter and promptly goes back to staring at the fridge as if he could get it to spontaneously combust through sheer concentration. Yoongi can't even find it within himself to appreciate the view because the moment he does, his mind jumps to the memory of Jungkook's body, solid against his own.

They both decided to brush over… whatever that was earlier. In a way, Yoongi is thankful, but he's starting to feel nervous, how quickly everything went back to business as usual. He almost wants to talk about it. Wants to know if it was something or not.

A minute later, Jungkook emerges, closing the fridge door like it has personally offended him somehow. “You live like this?” he asks, sounding weak. His voice might be cracking a little.

“Technically, Namjoon and I live like this. It’s not just my fridge.”

Jungkook only shakes his head, a frown pulling at the corners of his lips. He assesses the food he's put on the counter, sifts through tubs of tupperware and some of the more questionable finds that Yoongi might have forgotten to throw away for a month or two, and frowns. After a moment looking lost in thought, he goes over to where he's left his bag, and starts searching through it.

“What are you doing?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer him right away, instead pulling something out of his bag and putting it in his pocket. “You should change into something comfortable. We’re going jogging.”

A quick change into sweats and ten minute trip later, Yoongi finds himself walking through the grocery store’s sliding doors while Jungkook pushes a cart by his side, still not entirely sure what is happening to him.

“It’s not actually that difficult to eat well,” Jungkook is saying as he steers the cart towards the produce section, looking noticeably brighter. Yoongi can’t say with any certainty that he has ever voluntarily stepped foot in the produce section before. “People think it is, but once you get started, it’s really simple, I'll show you. There’s plenty of healthy pizza, even. You just need to take that first step.”

“I don't think I can take any steps right now,” Yoongi pants, still trying to catch his breath after the jog. He eyes the shopping cart, wondering if he can squeeze himself into it. “Switch places with me, will you?”

Jungkook looks confused by that, but lets Yoongi take control of the cart. As Jungkook starts examining a pyramid of apples, Yoongi leans his weight against the cart, pleased when he finds a bar near the bottom where he can prop his foot and stand on. With the other, he pushes along the floor and lets the wheels do the rest of the work.

Jungkook looks at him and snorts out a laugh. “Usually they tip over when I try to do that,” he says.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“What? Of course not,” Jungkook says before turning away with a smile.

Yoongi absently rides the cart along, watching as Jungkook grabs produce and starts bagging it to put in the cart. Eventually, they make their way around the entire section until Jungkook seems satisfied with the haul and starts looking at meats. He seems to forget all about Yoongi in the meantime, though he does stop to explain what everything is good for, as much good as explaining it to Yoongi does.

The only thing that could make it more mind-numbing is if – god forbid – Jungkook ran into a long lost friend and started chatting them up, just like his mother used to.

Just when Yoongi starts wondering if it’s ever going to end, Jungkook asks him, “Do you want anything?”

“You're letting me pick?” Yoongi asks, eyeing him. 

“Good point. On second thought, after seeing how you eat, maybe not.”

“Fuck that, if you get to decide what I'm going to eat, I'm going to pick something for you too.”

Jungkook turns to look at him helplessly. “I guess when you put it that way, that’s fair.”

“Of course it is. I’m not some sort of monster.”

“Right,” Jungkook says, though his tone suggests otherwise.

“I’m glad we're on the same page.” Yoongi watches him carefully. “Whatever I want? You’ll eat it?”

Jungkook's face tells him everything he needs to know about what he feels about that. “…Sure. Whatever.”

“And you're not going to complain that it's not gluten-free, or anything?”

“Okay, sure. Just- just pick something already before I change my mind.”

Grinning, Yoongi scans the aisle for the grossest, unhealthiest looking thing he can find. He settles for a can of something he’s going to assume is meat that has been processed, glued back together, and packaged in an equally processed sauce.

“Here. I want to get this,” he says as he hands it to Jungkook.

Jungkook accepts it and immediately turns it over to read the label, and Yoongi can see the light fading from his eyes. “This has 1,026 percent of the daily recommended sodium per serving. Monosodium glutamate is listed on here three times. How is this allowed to exist?” he says weakly. Yoongi could swear he’s turning faintly gray.

“You said whatever I want,” Yoongi reminds him gently with a smile, and watches with fascination as Jungkook stands stock still, his eyebrows furrowing into a steep V as he evidently has an internal struggle with himself. In the end, he tosses the pack into the cart without looking at it, as if that’s going to stop it from existing.

Whatever Yoongi picked, it seems to have demoralized Jungkook completely because he starts tossing suspicious glances at all of the canned food around them like they're going to attack him. He crosses the store quickly, pulling the cart along with him, and Yoongi is more than happy for the free ride, even happier to see them approaching the checkout. 

Yoongi stands back as Jungkook places everything on the conveyor belt, refusing to be responsible for anything in the cart. He watches it all slide along, unsure if he’s ever seen so many different fruits and vegetables in such a concentrated area in his life. As the cashier starts calculating their total, he makes a mental note to himself that, if Jungkook ever takes him anywhere near a grocery store again, he’s going to turn around and run the fuck away.

“Do you have one of these at home?” Jungkook asks, pulling at a blindingly red canvas bag with the store’s logo hanging egregiously on display next to the checkout counter.

“Namjoon might,” Yoongi says with a shrug. “They’re for people who like to pretend they have their shit together and want to save the dolphins, or something.”

Jungkook shakes his head and wordlessly takes a bag.

“Did you know having sex can burn around 400 calories an hour?”

“Mm,” Namjoon says without looking up from his book. “That's nice. Farting burns sixty-seven calories. If you fart fifty-two times a day, you can lose a approximately 0.45 kilograms.”

“…Wow. Okay. You win. This wasn't a competition but you won it.”

Namjoon grins at him, dimples and all. Damn him and his endearing dimples. “Why are we talking about this, anyways?”

Yoongi picks at his bowl of kale. He actually went out, bought kale, and is now eating it, all because Jungkook told him it cures cancer or something. What a time to be alive. “Jungkook came up with this fitness regimen for me. I just figure it’s an easy way to get closer to him, except nothing is happening. All I’ve done is work out. And eat really depressing food. I'm just coming up with significantly better alternatives.”

Alternatives like: Yoongi riding Jungkook’s firm thigh. Yoongi biting Jungkook’s lip – the plumper, bottom one – and watching it turn dark red. Yoongi making Jungkook sweat in ways that don’t involve running. Ever since the Pizza Incident, as he’s officially dubbed it in his mind, it’s all he can think about, no matter how hard he tries not to.

It’s stupid how much Yoongi should hate all of this, how it goes against everything he cares about. But at the end of the day, all he can think about is the way Jungkook smiles at him, how he doesn’t get tired of Yoongi even when his words are more biting than usual after a run. So as much as it pains him, he eats his kale wondering if it would make Jungkook proud, if his face would light up if he knew.

Right now, though, he’s having a crisis.

“That explains the fridge,” he hears Namjoon mutter under his breath before saying more loudly, “He sounds like he's just interested in you being healthy. Just ‘cause you're skinny doesn't mean you wouldn't benefit from some exercise and eating less junk.”

“That's the dumbest shit you've ever said. You sound just like Hoseok,” Yoongi deadpans, tearing himself away from trying to disintegrate the kale in front of him with his mind. “Are you sure you're a genius?”

“Well, the other option is he’s interested in you,” Namjoon says simply.

“…Say that again?”

Namjoon gives him an are you serious? look. “You're not paying him, right? If you think about it, he doesn’t have a reason to be this invested in helping you unless he just really likes to help people. Or, he likes you.”

“Okay, I take back what I said. That’s the dumbest shit you’ve ever said.”

Namjoon snorts and closes his book. “Look, hyung, he was practically dry humping you the other day–”

“What the fuck,” Yoongi says. “That is not what that was.”

“–and you’re always making those ‘fuck me’ eyes at him whenever you look at him–”

“I do not–”

“–and he looks at you with puppy eyes too, when you aren’t looking.”

That makes Yoongi pause. “Does he?” he asks before he can help himself.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and Yoongi knows he’s not going to dignify that with an actual answer. “Just think about it, hyung,” he finishes.

Yoongi decides the best way to respond to that is to put the thought and its implications aside and to not think about it again.

“You are so whipped,” Hoseok cackles as he takes in the evidence: a fridge stocked with the healthiest shit Yoongi can imagine. Yoongi regrets showing off his newfound – healthy – cooking skills to him. “You’re so whipped and you’re not even fucking him. You know how many levels of sad that is?”

“Are you just conspiring with Joon to make me suffer as much as possible?”

“Oh man, Namjoon is telling you this, too?” Hoseok asks, his face lighting up like it’s Christmas. “I love it when I’m right.”

“I hate you both,” Yoongi says. His words are punctuated by the sound of his phone vibrating against the countertop, and he glances down to catch a glimpse of a message.

I'm outside.

Hoseok turns to the sound immediately, and his smile only grows wider. “Is that Jungkook? It's him, right? You're so red, it's obvious.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi mumbles, already making his way towards the door.

He hears Hoseok laughing at him as he leaves, but he's too occupied by his own thoughts and racing heart to care. Jungkook is right outside his building, as expected, and Yoongi almost trips onto his own face at the sight of him. Not in his usual workout clothes, but wearing a pair of jeans that hug his thighs sinfully and a shirt that fits him just right. His hair is slightly styled and parted smartly off-center and Yoongi wants to run his fingers through it.

He looks absolutely stunning.

“Hey,” Yoongi says, unable to help the giddy smile that spreads across his face at the unexpected sight of Jungkook. Whipped, Hoseok’s voice reminds him. “What’s up?”

“I was in the area. Just thought I would drop by,” Jungkook says. “I was wondering if you wanted to go grab dinner, maybe.”

“Are you just going to drag me to some healthy vegan shit or do you mean an actual meal?”

Jungkook laughs. “We’ll call it a cheat day. You can pick the place.”

Yoongi beams, already feeling lighter at the suggestion. “That sounds great. I’ll just tell Hoseok I’m going out.”

“Hoseok?” Jungkook echoes. “Your ex? Why would you have to tell him?”

“Yeah, we were just hanging out. He won’t mind if I ditch him, though.”

“I… didn’t know you were so friendly,” Jungkook says.

“Yeah, he comes over all the time. I’ve been showing off all the progress I’ve been making.”

Jungkook’s eyes are suddenly trained on his own feet. “It looks like things are working out like you wanted, huh?”

Yoongi smiles wider. “Yeah, it’s all thanks to you.”

“I guess so.”

“Come in for a moment, you can say hi; he’s been dying to meet you,” Yoongi says, pulling Jungkook forward by the arm. “I’m just going to get changed and we can go out.”

Jungkook nods mutely, and lets Yoongi drag him inside.

Hoseok looks ready to say something when he sees the two of them coming in through the door, his lips already curling into a delighted smile, but Yoongi beats him to it. “Jungkook, Hoseok,” he introduces quickly, and then turns to Hoseok. “Seokseok, you know Jungkook. I’m going to go change, so don’t say anything weird.”

“Yoongi has told me so much about you,” Hoseok says to Jungkook with a wink. “I'm pretty sure he's got abs now. It's unbelievable. His stomach’s always been so soft.”

“I'm going to kill you,” Yoongi mumbles, tossing Hoseok a glare as he rushes to his room.

It strikes him, maybe a little later than it should, that he has no idea what to wear, couldn't possibly expect to match Jungkook in any way. Jungkook, with his impeccable style, his impeccable body, his impeccable hair. Yoongi considers the pros and cons of hiding out in his room until Jungkook gives up on him instead. 

Except. He hears murmurs of a conversation through the walls, which only spurs him to move quickly. He grabs whatever's in his room that matches and has probably been washed in the last week, and hopes for the best. Thankfully, Jungkook has seen him in worse.

When he emerges again, Jungkook smiles, looking relieved to see him, and Yoongi really doesn’t want to know what Hoseok might have said to him while they were alone to cause it. “You look nice,” he says.

“Very nice,” Hoseok all but purrs.

Yoongi can just feel Hoseok's too-interested stare, but he's surprised when he sees Jungkook staring just as intensely at Hoseok. He brushes it off, making his way across the room. “Of course I do. Let's go.”

“Of course,” Jungkook echoes faintly. He looks over as Yoongi reaches him. “It was– nice meeting you, Hoseok.”

“Likewise,” Hoseok says, his smile reaching his ears.

Jungkook’s fingers graze Yoongi’s elbow, guiding him out the door, almost persistent in his touch. Yoongi looks over his shoulder at him questioningly, but Jungkook doesn’t meet his eyes.

He's looking forward to going to dinner with Jungkook – and they actually get a ride to the place, like normal human beings, instead of running the entire way – but the moment they sit down, Jungkook seems to regret coming with Yoongi entirely.

Yoongi is hyper-aware of Jungkook's every movement, the air he displaces with every breath, too conscious of the fact that this is a date by some definition, but Jungkook doesn't seem to be aware of anything at all. He picks at his food like he's physically repelled by it, only gives short, clipped answers to everything Yoongi says, and Yoongi can't help but wonder if maybe it's his fault.

His choice in dining isn't that bad.

Even so, Yoongi's enthusiasm can only take so much. The mood remains heavy as they head back to Yoongi's place. Jungkook hangs behind as they approach Yoongi's building, and Yoongi can't bring himself to leave him, sulking as he is.

“You’ve been weird all evening,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“Just fine,” Jungkook mumbles. “You should go in. It’s getting cold.”

Yoongi cocks his head at Jungkook, frowning. “Okay, seriously, what’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“No, nothing.”

Yoongi leans a shoulder against the doorway and reaches for Jungkook’s sleeve, thumbing the cloth. “I’m not going inside until you talk to me.”

Jungkook bites at his lower lip, his fringe falling over his eyes as his head dips to look down where Yoongi’s hand meets his arm. For a minute, Yoongi thinks he might run away. “This is going to sound stupid.”

“Nothing you say sounds stupid,” Yoongi assures him. “I’m the one going around sounding like a dumbass all the time.”

Jungkook sighs and runs his free hand through his hair. “I just- I just keep getting mixed messages and I don't know what the fuck is going on anymore. I thought you might like me, but then you're always trying to get back with your ex–”

“Wait, what?”

“–and earlier you were showing me off to make him jealous, right?”

“What?”

Jungkook bites his lip. “Your ex. You're still hung up over him.”

“I have no fucking clue what is happening right now or where this is coming from.”

Jungkook looks somewhere past him, as if looking at Yoongi directly is going to make him waver. “You know, the first time I saw you, I thought you were cute. So I wanted to talk to you more, but I didn't think it would happen because of your boyfriend, and it was just– embarrassing. But then I saw you at the pizza place that one day, and I thought maybe that was my chance.”

For a moment, Yoongi wants to say something, but when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. Jungkook's eyes train themselves to the ground. 

“And you were nothing like I thought you would be, but even though you're really small and angry I still thought it was cute. And you seemed like– I thought there was something between us, I guess. But now it’s like all I ever managed to do was fix things between you and your ex, and I just– I feel like, I don't know– I want you to like me but I don't want to be your rebound, I guess.”

What?

Fuck. Hoseok. His ex-boyfriend. In the end all of Yoongi’s problems inevitably involve Hoseok. Yoongi wants to laugh at how ridiculous this is, that all this time he’s just been sabotaging himself.

“See?” Jungkook says as Yoongi stays silent, struggling to take it all in. “It's stupid.”

“You're- you’re not. I like you. You're not a rebound. Wouldn't be a rebound,” Yoongi says, hoping if he puts enough emotion into it that Jungkook will get it. This isn't a conversation he thought he would have today – or ever, really – and he's at a complete loss.

It is stupid, but not in the way Jungkook thinks it is.

“How can you say that, though? You and your ex–”

“I know because I'm a massive fucking liar, all right?”

Jungkook blinks at him. “Huh?”

Yoongi sighs and braces himself. “Look. I lied about Hoseok being my boyfriend. We're just friends. Friends who have never fucked. There’s no rebound because there’s nothing to rebound from. I just wanted an excuse to get closer to you and he brought up the idea of jogging and then clung to me like a leech. I rolled with the whole boyfriend thing because I wanted to manipulate you into pitying me, and it worked. But the thing is, I hate running, I hate jogging, I hate walking, and anything that even remotely resembles physical exercise. So if… if you’re upset I get it, because this whole entire premise was just a giant lie so I could get you to like me.”

By the end of it, Yoongi is out of breath. It's worse than his exhaustion after a run. Jungkook just stares at him for a long moment, mouth slightly ajar. Yoongi wouldn't blame him if he didn't say anything, didn't talk to him ever again. But, after a long moment, he finally says, “No wonder.”

“No wonder I'm such a weirdo freak? Yeah.”

“No,” Jungkook says, smiling a little. “No wonder you're so bad at jogging.”

“Fuck you,” Yoongi says. “You’re just superhuman. Nobody runs as fast as you do and calls it jogging.”

“Even if that were true, you run like an old man.” Jungkook is grinning widely now, showing off all of his front teeth. It’s replaced quickly by something else, something more uncertain. “You really like me?”

“I said I do, didn’t I? I literally get up at five every morning just to exercise with you,” Yoongi says. “I hate being awake, and I hate exercising. If that doesn’t mean I like you, I don’t know what does.”

“That’s… the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” Jungkook says.

“You have disturbingly low standards,” Yoongi deadpans. “Not that I mind, though.”

Jungkook laughs. He pulls his arm in and Yoongi with it until their faces are a breath away, and Yoongi finds that he really doesn't mind.

Jungkook promises him a real dinner, as a date to make up for his sullenness. Yoongi promptly drags him out to the nearby night market.

It’s hard not to smile as he takes in the sight of the street, decorated on both sides with stalls, glowing warm orange in the evening light. Normally he minds the crowds, the suffocating air of these kinds of places, but with Jungkook walking next to him, he can’t help want a little bit of everything.

Jungkook stays by his side, his shoulder always brushing against Yoongi's own as Yoongi goes from stall to stall, buying whatever looks good to share between them. He keeps throwing that look again – that look like all the unhealthy fried food is going to jump out and attack him, though he seems to relax whenever Yoongi looks over. Yoongi thinks he might reject the food he offers, but surprisingly, Jungkook eats everything that comes his way.

It doesn't mean he looks thrilled about it whenever he does, but he smiles when Yoongi smiles, the corners of his eyes creasing, and that's okay.

“I can already see you thinking about how you're going to work this off,” Yoongi says. “Come on, you have to admit this stuff smells amazing. Just do a few extra push ups; you won’t regret it.”

“Everything is deep fried,” Jungkook bemoans. “Next time I'm going to pick the place.”

“That's fine,” Yoongi says, shrugging.

“Are you sure?”

Yoongi nods. “I’m not like you, brutishly subjecting people to your whim and whining when you can’t get your way. I’ll go along with whatever you want without complaining, because that’s what boyfriends do.”

“Boyfriends?”

“Yeah?” Yoongi mimics Jungkook’s confusion. “I like you; you like me too. Ergo: boyfriends. Q.E.D.”

“I don’t… think it’s that simple? I didn’t agree to this.”

“How complicated do you want it to be?” Yoongi asks, preoccupying himself with gesturing at the array of food in front of him until the man behind the stall gets the message. “Should I get down on one knee?”

“That’s marriage,” Jungkook hisses over his shoulder.

The man hands him two skewers. Yoongi pays for them and turns around, bending a little on his knee and stretching out a skewer towards Jungkook. “Jungkook-ah,” he says, “will you be my boyfriend?”

Jungkook stares at him. Yoongi smiles as he watches his eyes widen, his cheeks slowly blooming red. 

“I know it's an honor and all, but my arm is getting kind of tired.”

Jungkook scowls and reaches out for Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi thinks for a moment he might swat it away, but instead Jungkook wraps his own hand around it to hold it still. Then, he leans in and takes a bite from the skewer in Yoongi’s outstretched hand.

He immediately buries his face in his hands and whirls around.

“I can’t believe that just happened. I can’t believe this is happening,” Yoongi hears him say.

Yoongi taps his foot, letting out a breath he hasn't realized he was holding. “Yes or no?”

Jungkook turns to face him slowly. “Yes, okay,” he says, delicately plucking the offered skewer out of Yoongi's grip. “I'm pretty sure you're going to kill me with this, but okay.”

“Don’t worry, you have plenty of time to work it off. Actually, I've come up with this new workout I think you might like,” Yoongi says. “Wanna hear about it?”

Jungkook peers at him. “You? Work out? Is it called ‘lying in bed with your eyes closed’?”

Yoongi swats at his arm. “Not even close. It's called ‘Urban Hiking’.”

Jungkook seems to think about that for a moment, taking another bite before he says, “Isn't that just walking?”

“No,” Yoongi says, putting a hand on his hip and fixing Jungkook with a serious look. “Your definition of walking is what we ordinary, mortal humans call power walking. Possibly leisurely jogging. Urban Hiking is better. A brand new concept. You can walk however you like, wherever you like. You stop to pet the dogs in the park, buy tteokbokki from a street vendor, and hold hands with a handsome jogger of your choice while you eat your tteokbokki. It’s better. What do you think?”

Jungkook laughs disbelievingly. “I think you’re just making this up as you go.”

“If you don’t like that, well, making out can burn 450 calories an hour,” Yoongi says, looking at Jungkook and raising his brows meaningfully.

Jungkook snorts at that.

“No, seriously,” Yoongi says, frowning at the flippant rejection. “I’ve been doing my research. Just ask Namjoon. He’ll tell you.”

Whatever expression is on his face, it works, because Jungkook leans in and plants a kiss on Yoongi’s nose. He reaches for Yoongi’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Let’s go to the park and pet some dogs, then.”

“This is completely out of order,” Yoongi whines, trying not to think about how sweaty his palms are. “You’re supposed to hold my hand after the tteokbokki. And you completely ignored my point about making out.”

“Fine.” Jungkook disentangles their fingers. “Now can we pet those dogs?”

“On second thought–” Yoongi makes a grab for Jungkook's hand. “–this is fine. But you're still avoiding the whole making out thing.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “If I promise to make out with you after, will you pet dogs with me?”

“And buy tteokbokki,” Yoongi adds.

“Okay, yeah– that. Deal?”

“I dunno, I'm starting to think you're just interested in the dogs.”

“What?” Jungkook huffs. He brings Yoongi’s hand to his lips, pressing them against the knuckles. “No way.”

Yoongi eyes him. “All right. I’ll believe you for now, but you better prove it.”

Jungkook laughs, tugging Yoongi closer to his side. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll show you, boyfriend.”