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Jungkook looked up at the outstretched palm that was close, so close, that it was practically grazing the tip of his nose. Those perfectly manicured hands — hands that he knew he would recognise even if he had both eyes closed, even though the only opportunity he’s had is to study the way those hands deftly manipulate the dial of his locker from across the hall. The way his distal phalanges dipped and curved visually imprinted into Jungkook's touch senses.
“Can I have this dance?” It was a quiet, melodious voice, barely a whisper over the sounds of pink skies by LANY playing in the background. But Jungkook thinks that his ears have become so attuned to the frequency of his voice that he would have been able to pick out even a sigh above the sounds of a boisterous crowd.
Jungkook swiped the tip of his tongue over his top lip before capturing his bottom lip between bunny teeth; ever so slightly tipping his chin upward so that his dark, doe eyes could meet soft, hazel ones.
Those soft, hazel eyes that implored his as Jungkook momentarily forgot his own name, much less why he was in a bow tie sitting on a bleacher strewn with stray confetti, tapping the toe of his sneaker absentmindedly to Nickelback instead of sunken into his ratty basement couch playing Super Mario.
Oh, because the Fall Fling would be fun, Jimin had promised.
Jimin, who gravitated to Taehyung the moment they both stepped into the prettied up gym two hours again and never reappeared again. Jungkook has since had a bit of the punch (and had a little bit more after someone had spiked it), scarfed down enough finger sandwiches equivalent to three normal sized ones and jumped around the dance floor with some classmates from his biology and trigonometry class.
Jungkook thinks back to the last four years of high school, the amount of time he has spent in those hallowed hallways in between classes admiring, studying, memorising every little bit of Kim Seokjin. Every little bit, he would admit, has slowly and irrevocably fallen for. Across the hall and two lockers down situated Seokjin’s locker from his, so it was almost a given to bump into each other in between classes.
Jungkook notices the way Seokjin has a preference for oversized hoodies and pullovers — the way it would hang over his wide, angular shoulders and giving him sweater paws; eccuntating his wide frame but hiding the narrow waist that he knew exist underneath because there was one time Namjoon forgot that he had an interview with a college football scout and Seokjin had taken off his bomber jacket and lent it to him, leaving Seokjin in a plain white tee tucked into his jeans and nothing to Jungkook’s imagination.
Jungkook observes the cursory pursed lipped smile Seokjin gives to his acquaintances when they pass along the hallway, a kind of smile that didn’t show any teeth but emphasised on the fullness of his bread-like cheeks when the corners of his mouth peak. The smile that leaves Jungkook enraptured and steals his breath away is the one that usually appears when Namjoon and Taehyung come tackling him from behind, a wide smile that melds into a full on squeaky laugh, an imperfect but wholesome sound that makes Jungkook think of the rays of summer sun bursting out from behind rain clouds. They wrestle the camera Seokjin usually has in his hands to his shouts of “Yah, you brats you better not drop it!”, cackling as they peruse through Seokjin’s latest shots, eyes and mouths often widening in surprised delight at what they see.
Jungkook has never managed to sneak a glance, but he would imagine that someone as beautiful as Seokjin would capture the most beautiful pictures because anything and everything he took would be made beautiful simply because he’d noticed it’s existence.
Thoughts like these might seem overly exaggerated, but it really felt that way to Jungkook sometimes. He also blames his penchant to be mildly melodramatic on years of studying poetry and Shakespeare, it also what gave him his larger than life personality.
The first key of a new song had all the thoughts swimming in his head revert to it’s beginning focal point that was Kim Seokjin standing in front of him with an outstretched hand and asking him for a dance. It snapped Jungkook back to the reality of this moment where he found himself sitting alone in the bleachers while he watched the dance floor pair off as the slow songs started. He didn’t mind it all too much at that point in time though, content with sitting back and watching the world continue to rotate seemingly in slow motion on its axis to his slow dancing schoolmates. It wasn’t until he looked up and saw the stars in Seokjin’s eyes twinkling back at him that he suddenly felt an ache in his heart to be part of that slow-swaying, time stopping experience of clinging onto your partner as you slowly melt into each other on the dance floor.
“I’m not…” Jungkook began before he caught himself. What was he going to do, say no? To the one person who had caught his eyes and had admired from across the hall for years ? Not a chance. Not when he already instinctively started reaching out his hand to Seokjin’s outstretched one.
“I might have two left feet,” Jungkook cringed at that lame confession.
Seokjin’s eyes softened as he laughed, not in mirth but full of fondness. He reached out to close the gap between their fingers and took Jungkook’s palm fully against his without so much as a hesitation.
“Impossible,” Seokjin said, “I’ve seen you alone in the dance studio and you’re practically flying. Maybe it’s time to let someone catch up with you?”
“That’s the thing, what if you tripped over me simply because I’m incapable of dancing with someone else?” Jungkook protested as Seokjin led him toward the dance floor.
“Well,” Seokjin said as he guided Jungkook’s arms to the small of his waist, holding them in place before linking his own arms behind the nape of his neck. “Take the lead, and if I trip I know you’ll be there to catch me,” he answered simply.
They swayed in silence for a bit, their feet carried by the tune of the music and bodies swaying in tune to each other. By the second chorus Jungkook felt comfortable enough to rest his head on Seokjin’s shoulder, nose by the crook of his neck when Jungkook reveled in the discovery that Seokjin smelt like lavender and lemons; Seokjin in turn rested his cheek on the top of Jungkook’s head, every exhale a warm tickle on his scalp.
“You know, you’re not the only one that looks forward to those minutes in between classes,” Seokjin piped up above the sound of the music. Jungkook paused, stunned and wondering if he had somehow narrated everything that had gone through his mind earlier out loud. He lifts his cheek off Seokjin's shoulder to find him looking down at him. His eyes sparkled under the fairylights and Jungkook thinks he could drown in them everyday.
“I know you have a bias for your black military boots, though I really like it when you wear those pink Fila ones. I’m quite sure you’re determined to challenge how many varying shades of black you could possibly own, but I really liked that one yellow hoodie with the raw hem that appears every other week. I thought to myself ‘he must be some kind of wonderful’ if he could ruthlessly have go at a Balenciaga hoodie with a pair of scissors without so much as flinching.”
Jungkook blinked in awe as Seokjin took a deep breath, continuing, “I know you stuff your trigonometry textbook all the way to the back of your locker even if you need it everyday, so between every fourth and fifth period you spend an extra minute digging through your locker. I know that the deeper the frown, the better tasting the food is because I have never seen anyone scowl so hard at a doughnut on Wednesday mornings but they are my favourite too.”
“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook blurted out. Seokjin raised an eyebrow, a corner of his mouth tugged up in amusement as Jungkook dipped his head to recollect himself, wondering if that had come out too quickly too soon.
But what the hell, it’s been four years and they are graduating soon.
“I mean, what are the odds of everything culminating up to… this? Feeling like this?” Jungkook looked up again at Seokjin, shrugging.
“Like catching lightning?” Seokjin offered.
“Exactly.”
“One in a million,” Seokjin’s finger traced the curve of Jungkook’s cheek as he leaned into his touch. He continued to trail his finger down to the dip of Jungkook’s clavicle and down the sleeve of his jacket to draw circles in Jungkook’s palm that opened at his touch, sliding his curved fingers between tattooed ones to finally intertwine.
“Come with me,” Seokjin smirked as he gave Jungkook’s hand a gentle tug before they were both racing out of the gym and down the empty hallways and out of the building. They ran without stopping, lungs on fire, until they were in the middle of the football field before Seokjin abruptly halted and pulled a very surprised Jungkook down onto the grass with him. In Seokjin’s opinion, Jungkook had let out the cutest yelp as he tumbled on top of him. Future Jungkook however would vehemently deny this fact whenever they retell their story, that such a sound ever left his mouth.
And there they lay, legs stretched out in opposite directions so that their heads were by each other’s, cheek to cheek and staring up at the stars that glittered in the dark October sky.
“Does it ever make you feel insignificant, you know, staring up at the stars like that?”
Seokjin pondered over this for a second before he answered. “No, I think it makes me feel lucky.”
He turned his head and watched the way Jungkook’s wide eyes seemed to mirror the stars in the sky. He no longer had any qualms about what he was going to confess.
“Because amongst the infinite vastness of this universe, I found you.” He watched the way the corners of Jungkook’s eyes narrow as he burst into a smile so brilliant that it could challenge a supernova.
“You know,” Jungkook said, barely above a whisper as he turned to lock eyes with Seokjin,” you never did answer my question from earlier.”
Seokjin is laughing as he pulls Jungkook up into a sitting position, their gaze never once leaving each other’s as Seokjin has one hand around Jungkook’s wrist and the other resting on his waist. He momentarily broke their gaze as Seokjin’s eyes flickered down to the curve of Jungkook’s lips before looking straight into his eyes again, and without missing a beat, breathlessly closed the minute gap between them and planted his lips firmly on Jungkook’s. He could feel Jungkook melt into him as they deepen the kiss, his free hand clutching onto the lapel of Seokjin’s dress shirt in an attempt to ground himself Ashe feels his whole world tilts off it’s axis with that kiss.
Finally.
“If you still really need to know, my answer to your question is a resounding ‘yes’,” Seokjin smiled against Jungkook’s lips.
“I never would have known otherwise,” Jungkook’s reply sent them both giggling, still clutching onto one another.
“I want to have pancakes tomorrow,” Seokjin suddenly declared in a very serious tone.
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes, tomorrow,” Seokjin confirms. And it’s as if he knew the doubts that ran through Jungkook’s mind, he added, “there’s definitely a tomorrow.” He lifted Jungkook’s hand and kissed his knuckles.
“And another tomorrow.” He gently turned Jungkook’s hand over and kissed his wrist, feeling his racing pulse under his plump lips.
“And the day after.” He kissed the corner of Jungkook’s lips that had tugged upwards in a smile.
“And all the days that follow after that, until I lose count.” He chuckled one more time before capturing Jungkook’s lips in his again.
“Tomorrow, tomorrow and tomorrow,” Jungkook whispered his promise against Seokjin’s smiling lips.
So when tomorrow came, Jungkook picked Seokjin up early in the morning and headed to their local diner for a fluffy stack of pancakes. And when they moved out of town into the city after graduation, it was IHOP every Sunday morning. Sunday morning pancakes dates became a thing, they lost count of the weeks, months and years afterwards. When they finally got their first apartment together with their own kitchenette and felt (albeit begrudgingly) like real adults in the real world, their Sunday pancake date began with a box of Betty Crocker until one day Seokjin decided that they were definitely above boxed pancake mix and could manage making pancakes from scratch.
Either way, Sunday pancake dates always ended with the sweetest syrupy kisses. No matter how the years passed, it always brings them back to the time where they were both giddy and smitten high schoolers, the feeling of sharing their first of infinite kisses and falling in love under the stars over and over again.