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it isn’t until the door slams shut behind him that jungkook lets himself breathe.
he fucked up. god, he fucked up. he’s going to be excommunicated from the friend group, they’re all going to hate him forever and shit, what if yoongi-hyung kicks him out? he can’t find somewhere to live on such short notice, especially not on his salary. he’s going to be homeless and friendless and worst of all, worst of all is that jimin might cry, he might cry and it’s all jungkook’s fault for—
“jungkook-ah? are you in there?”
namjoon’s voice is loud enough to carry through the bathroom door but gentle enough that it settles the erratic pace of jungkook’s heart. “no,” he calls back, then winces. “uh. yes. just a minute. i’m—i’m shitting.”
“you’re shitting,” namjoon repeats, sounding dubious. “you sound awfully close to the door to be shitting.”
jungkook eyes the toilet across the room shrewdly, immediately and irrationally annoyed that seokjin’s bathroom is set up the way it is. why is the universe so against him tonight?
because he’s a homewrecker, probably.
the thought sits heavily in jungkook’s gut. jimin’s beautiful, smiling face flashes across his mind and all jungkook can feel is guilt, guilt and the taste of taehyung’s lips on his—
suddenly it’s all too much. he opens the door because the air is positively stifling, but namjoon’s worried gaze is what sends him teetering over the edge. he grabs carelessly at his hyung’s shirt and yanks him inside, slamming the door behind him with enough force to shake the frame.
“jk, what’s going—”
“i kissed taehyungie-hyung,” jungkook blurts out. there’s a second where namjoon only stares at him, face frozen in concern even as his eyes widen, and jungkook only manages to take a single gulp of air before bursting into tears.
“you—” namjoon shakes his head, already pulling jungkook tight against him. “it’s okay, it’s okay, please stop crying—”
“it’s not okay,” jungkook wails, shoving his snotty nose against namjoon’s broad shoulder. he squeezes his eyes shut and pushes until he sees stars bursting against his lids, taking comfort in the firmness of namjoon’s pecs. even when the rest of his world is quite literally on fire, jungkook can always count on the sturdy constant that is namjoon’s chest. “i ruined everything!”
“you didn’t—”
“i did!” jungkook sobs, because namjoon is everything good in the world wrapped up in one person and of course his natural instinct is to comfort jungkook but he wasn’t there. he didn’t see jungkook throw himself at one of his oldest friends like a floozy—a friend who’s practically fucking married, he might add, married to jungkook’s other oldest friend and so happily in love he’d never even look twice at anyone else.
jungkook knows this fact intimately, because he’s been looking at both taehyung and jimin with hearts in his eyes for years, and neither of them have ever once looked back.
he loves them both, he always has, but he’d thought—he’d thought he was a better person than this. he thought he had those feelings under control. but apparently, get enough vodka in him he’ll turn into the very worst version of himself. get enough vodka in him and suddenly his lips will be places they have no right to be.
“let’s just think about this calmly, okay?” namjoon says, carefully rocking jungkook back and forth. “just tell me exactly what happened—”
outside, someone smacks the door. “jungkook-ah! baby, it’s hyung, let me in!”
jungkook flinches, whimpers, hides his face in namjoon’s neck because fuck, that’s jimin’s voice. he doesn’t sound angry, but that must be because he doesn’t know yet and god, jungkook can’t be here to watch the smile slide off his face, he can’t, even if it’s exactly what he deserves—
“you have to get rid of him,” jungkook pleads, weaponizing his puppy eyes in a way he knows namjoon can’t resist. “please, i can’t—i can’t see him, not yet. please. i promise i’ll talk to him, i’ll apologize, but i can’t—hyung, i can’t—”
“okay, okay,” namjoon hushes him, glancing wildly at the door over jungkook’s head. “uh,” he says, and jungkook smacks his arm, widening his eyes in a way that he hopes screams do something! namjoon clears his throat, calls, “it’s just me, jimin-ah,” in a voice that’s about three octaves too low to be convincing.
“bullshit,” jimin says, no-nonsense as always. “i saw him go in. why are you hiding him from me?”
another voice cuts through the din, a voice that sends a shiver up jungkook’s spine and a pang of fear through his heart. “jungkook-ah,” taehyung wobbles, and he sounds so sad, a little like he’s been crying. “hyung’s sorry, please come out.”
goddamnit. jungkook doesn’t stand a chance against the both of them.
but if taehyung’s out there with jimin, surely jimin knows? taehyung can’t lie to him for shit—he would have spit it out the second he stumbled into jimin’s path...which leaves jungkook to wonder why jimin isn’t currently threatening him fifty different ways to hell.
“i don’t know what to do!” namjoon whispers, just as jimin starts smacking his tiny hand insistently against the door.
“get out there and distract them,” jungkook tries, but he’s grasping at straws, really. nobody can get past jimin, not when he’s on a mission like this. “get them to the bar, i don’t know. far enough away that i can slip out and go home!”
namjoon takes a few hesitant steps forward and slowly flips the lock. he doesn’t even get the chance to grip the handle before the door is flying open. luckily, namjoon catches it, wedging his foot against the crack and leaning firmly against the wood. jungkook sees a flash of taehyung’s teary eyes, jimin’s face red with exertion, a flurry of curses rustling between them.
“hyung,” taehyung whines, “hyung, please, i have to apologize—”
“why do you have to apologize?” jungkook demands, feeling a little crazed and very off-kilter. “i’m the homewrecker here!”
“the what?” jimin asks, sounding genuinely confused, and oh god, what if he doesn’t know? he deserves to know, how did taehyung not tell him?
“i kissed taehyung,” jungkook blurts out. namjoon’s head thunks against the door.
there’s a beat of silence, punctuated only by the pulsing beat of the music down the hall, and then jimin frowns—at least, as much as he can with his adorable cheeks squished in the door crack.
“tae, i thought you said you kissed him?”
jungkook blinks. that’s certainly not the response he expected.
“i did!” taehyung protests, “i initiated it, i was practically throwing myself at him, oh my god.”
“i kissed back,” jungkook interrupts, and he can feel himself getting worked up again. his face feels hot and his heart starts to kick up speed. “i fucked up, i’m—” his voice breaks, “i’m so sorry, hyungs. please don’t break up because of me.”
and then he bursts into tears. again.
“oh, jungkookie,” jimin coos, “baby, no, please don’t cry. hyung, can you—god, you’re a fucking rock, hold on—” he gives a hard shove that completely contradicts the gentleness of his voice. namjoon stumbles backward and taehyung takes advantage of the opening, slipping beneath an outstretched arm and through the door. he reaches jungkook and stops just short of touching him, almost like he’s afraid. his eyes are shining with tears, wide and the most beautiful brown and god, jungkook’s really ruined everything, hasn’t he?
but then taehyung starts to talk, words rushing out like a burst pipe. “i’m so sorry,” he gasps, “i’m so sorry, i’ve probably made you so uncomfortable and put you in the worst situation and i completely understand if you never want to talk to me again—”
“why are you apologizing?” jungkook demands, and it’s barely discernible through the tears and snot but taehyung somehow hears him anyway.
“because i ruined everything!” taehyung wails, which only makes jungkook cry harder because no, he ruined everything. he’s about to say as much—or at least, try to—when jimin appears beside them.
immediately, tiny fingers are cupping his cheeks, wiping away his tears, and jungkook doesn’t deserve this but he leans into it regardless, chasing the familiar comfort of one of his favorite people.
“look at me,” jimin says, his gaze unwavering, “jungkook-ah, sweetheart, look at me.”
“can’t,” jungkook mumbles, his eyes firmly shut against a fresh onslaught of tears and jimin’s beautiful face. jimin’s only response is to squish jungkook’s cheeks harder until his lips pout out and he whines, “hyuuuuung—”
“i’m sorry!” taehyung sobs again, slumping against jimin like an old-fashioned damsel. “i fucked up, i’m sorry—”
“jagiya, hush,” jimin shushes him, sagging a little under his weight. “jungkookie, let us explain, okay? hyungs are sorry. we never meant for this to happen.”
“you never—” jungkook starts, his eyes snapping open in outrage on jimin’s behalf, “literally none of this is your fault, i’m the one who—”
jimin cuts him off with a kiss on his forehead, just above his brow. “hyung’s talking,” he sing-songs, and it’s so wildly out of place for the current situation that jungkook shuts his mouth in surprise. jimin smiles at him, something soft and fond that sends a guilty little happy-shiver up jungkook’s spine. “you didn’t do anything wrong, okay? taehyungie says he kissed you first.”
taehyung wipes at his face with the back of his hand, looking miserable and yet still so, so gorgeous it sort of hurts. “i did. it’s on me.”
“i didn’t have to kiss back, though,” jungkook sniffles, “i should have—i should have s-stopped—”
“okay, okay,” jimin whispers, brushing the hair back off jungkook’s forehead. “shh, it’s okay. i’m not mad at you, jk. i promise. i’m not mad, and i don’t need an apology, but i accept yours.”
taehyung’s voice, when he speaks, is uncharacteristically small. the sound of it makes jungkook’s stomach curdle like spoiled milk. his hyung should never have to sound like that, not ever, and the fact that jungkook’s part of the reason he’s feeling so awful is—
god, it’s pretty much the worst thing he could imagine.
“jimin’s not mad at you. he has no reason to be.”
“no—” jungkook starts, stops. blinks. “why?”
the two of them share a weighted look, a secret conversation. it’s always weird as fuck when they do that, but jungkook’s gotten pretty good at reading between the lines. this one, though—he has no idea.
finally, jimin sighs, murmurs, “we were going to confess to you tonight. taehyungie just...jumped the gun a little.”
jungkook’s brain promptly shuts off. “huh?”
taehyung slumps against the sink, looking miserable. “jiminie and i thought it would be romantic, you know? new year’s eve. but i fucked it up.”
“baby,” jimin sighs, his free hand threading loosely in taehyung’s curls. taehyung leans into the touch, pouting cutely. jungkook wants to squish those cheeks and then eat them.
“i’m really sorry, jungkookie,” taehyung whispers, and suddenly the pout is gone, replaced with this terrible guilt that makes jungkook feel like sinking into the floor. “it was really unfair of me to spring that on you like that. i wasn’t thinking, and you just looked—but it’s no excuse. i’m sorry.”
jungkook is still about four steps behind. “you were—confess? me?”
jimin sits back on his heels, looking a little nervous. “yeah. this is like, the worst way to do it, but—” he shrugs helplessly, glancing at taehyung for an extra shot of bravery. when he looks back at jungkook, his eyes are determined and so, so pretty. the prettiest. but maybe jungkook’s biased. “we’ve been discussing it for, god. a year, maybe? and we finally decided to just...tell you.”
“it was going to be really romantic,” taehyung groans mournfully, head thunking against the porcelain, “we were going to pull you to the side right before the countdown and romance you like you deserve.”
“a...year?” jungkook asks, because his brain can’t seem to catch up. “you’ve been talking about it for a year?”
jimin nods. “we—well, we’ve both liked you for a really long time and sometimes it sort of seems like you might like us back?”
he sounds cautiously hopeful, grappling blindly behind him for taehyung’s hand. jungkook watches their fingers lace together tightly and all he can think is i want to be held like that.
the thought is startlingly clear, and suddenly the next step seems obvious. and with the nervous smile slowly sliding off jimin’s face, he has to act quickly.
he doesn’t give himself a chance to second-guess, which seems to be a recurring theme tonight. he just leans down, brows furrowed in determination, and kisses jimin square on the mouth.
there’s a gasp from taehyung and for a second, jungkook panics—what is the protocol for kissing someone in front of their boyfriend? but then jimin’s sucking in a sharp breath and licking into jungkook’s mouth like he’s starving for it, and jungkook’s brain goes full-on tv static. it feels like forever and only just a second before jimin is pulling back, chest heaving and pupils blown wide.
“you want us?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
behind him, taehyung watches with wide eyes, body small and hunched. “both of us?” he asks, beautiful in his vulnerability.
jungkook reaches a hand out towards him and taehyung takes it, allows himself to be tugged closer. “both of you,” jungkook promises, and his lips touch taehyung’s just as the room down the hall erupts into cheers.
“look at that.” jimin’s smiling as the two of them break apart, face flushed and looking a little breathless. “it’s midnight.”
“guess we didn’t fuck up too badly,” taehyung laughs with an edge of nervousness that jungkook is desperate to get rid of.
“no,” he murmurs, squeezing taehyung’s hand tight. he barely even thinks about it before pressing a kiss to taehyung’s forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his red nose. “no, i think everything turned out pretty fuckin’ perfect.”