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Seven years in the Kim household has done nothing to make Jeongguk proper. Instead, he is foul-mouthed, rude, and also growing up way too quickly.
There is Namjoon, nearing thirty this year and working as a secretary. He is kind and used to read Jeongguk bedtime stories until Jeongguk, at the ripe age of twelve, decided he was too old for them. Then there is Seokjin, nearing thirty-three and working as an elementary school teacher. He is also kind and still makes Jeongguk lunch and tucks him in even when Jeongguk complains, because that’s just how he is.
Jeongguk hasn’t ever really been told why his real parents gave him up, but these parents are probably a ton better than his real ones, anyway. So he doesn’t complain.
He’s a ruthless brat but he loves his parents, and they love him.
Seokjin has a friend named Yoongi. They’ve been friends since high school, and didn’t drift apart when Seokjin got engaged and later married, so he’s always been regarded as something of a weird uncle. Sometimes he smells like McDonald’s. Jeongguk always thought that was funny when he was younger, but now that he’s seventeen he knows that it’s because Yoongi works there.
He also always thought that Yoongi was nice, and liked the way his voice sounded when he’d bother to read Jeongguk a story until, once again, Jeongguk decided he was too old for that. But now that he’s seventeen…
Jeongguk is hunched over his 3DS trying to keep his Houndoom from fainting. He barely hears the knock at the door and Seokjin’s melodic voice greeting someone until his Houndoom faints and he loses the battle, swearing under his breath.
“What’s up?” someone asks, and Jeongguk looks up. And gasps.
It’s Yoongi, of course, because he’s the only person that ever bothers to visit their lonely country house, but he seems different. Maybe it’s caused by the months since Jeongguk last got to see him, either wrapped up in school or friends, but he looks so lovely and radiant.
Jeongguk’s mouth goes dry as Yoongi steps closer, sitting on the couch beside Jeongguk and peeking at his screen. “Ooo, Pokemon.” Yoongi remarks, grinning. “Who’s your favorites?”
Jeongguk almost wants to snap that he’s not a child anymore and he doesn’t need to be talked to like that, but really he loves gushing over his Dark types. But he just can’t make his mouth work.
“My favorites are the Fairy types, but don’t tell anyone.” Yoongi says, winking. Jeongguk’s heart lurches.
He watches as Yoongi rises and strides back to where Seokjin is, and Jeongguk can still see them in the kitchen, sitting at the table and beginning to chat about something, work maybe. Jeongguk’s mouth is still dry.
He returns his attention to his Pokemon game, buying Repels for his future dungeon adventures (because who has the fucking time to fight thirty-thousand Zubats). But he can hear Yoongi speaking clearly, voice low and sweet, and he shivers so hard that his thumbs slip off the buttons.
This is bad.
Jeongguk messages Taehyung after Yoongi leaves, because that’s what you do when you suddenly have the hots for your dad’s best friend.
[kookie] [6:54 PM] taehyung holy fucking shit
[taetae] [6:54 PM] wat
[kookie] [6:54 PM] i think i have a crush on my dads friend
[taetae] [6:55 PM] O M G which one
[kookie] [6:55 PM] yoongi hyung ///////////
[taetae] [6:55 PM] you’re shitting me.
Jeongguk is not shitting him.
Taehyung continues teasing him for the remainder of the week.
The next time Yoongi comes over, for sugar because he ran out, Jeongguk sits at the top of the stairs and peers through the banister slats at them.
It’s Namjoon’s day off so it’s Namjoon and Yoongi standing in the living room, Namjoon’s back to the stairwell. Yoongi’s eyes crinkle when he smiles and Jeongguk’s cheeks heat up. He’s so cute.
Yoongi’s eyes drift upwards and Jeongguk knows Yoongi sees him. Yoongi smiles again, something that seems directed specifically towards Jeongguk, and it makes Jeongguk’s heart flutter.
Yoongi waits until Namjoon’s not paying attention before he waves at Jeongguk. Jeongguk waves sheepishly back, fingers brushing the wood of the banister. Then he skitters back to his room as soon as possible.
Overtime is a bitch. Jeongguk misses his parents being home, but he likes the somewhat freedom brought by it. Somewhat freedom being the ability to play Pokemon while wearing nothing but his boxers.
That is, until Seokjin brings it up. “Are you fine by yourself? Do you want company, I can get Yoongi to come stay over until we get home.”
Jeongguk thinks. His pride is strong, wanting him to say that he’s fine and doesn’t need a babysitter. But, Yoongi. So. “That’s fine, I guess.” He says, the picture of flippance, and Seokjin laughs.
“Alright.”
So, here they are. Sitting in the living room, Jeongguk eagerly ignoring Yoongi’s presence in favor of catching a Ponyta.
“You never answered me,” Yoongi says suddenly, causing Jeongguk to jump. God damn, his voice.
“W-What do you mean?” Jeongguk stutters out, switching to another member of his Pokemon team better suited for catching Fire types.
“Your favorite Pokemon.” Yoongi says, and when Jeongguk glances over, Yoongi is looking at his phone. “What is it?”
“U-Uh, Houndoom, I like Houndoom a lot.” Jeongguk says, feeling shy. “All the Dark types, and the Ghost types. Those are my favorites.” Jeongguk glances back over, seeing Yoongi with that precious smile forming on his face.
Things are silent then, just the gentle click of Jeongguk pushing buttons and their soft breathing. Jeongguk likes listening to Yoongi breathe.
This is bad.
Things pass in this way for a few weeks, Yoongi coming over whenever he has the time to and sitting with Jeongguk until one of his parents gets home. Things also slowly get less awkward, Jeongguk being able to work around his easily-flustered butterflies and instead have lengthy conversations with Yoongi about Pokemon and music and whatever APink is doing nowadays.
So, Jeongguk thinks it’s safe. And of course it isn’t, of course Yoongi is going to reject him, but he still does it anyway. “Hyung, I like you a lot.”
And it looks like, maybe for a moment, Yoongi is going to laugh it off. But he must see something on Jeongguk’s face that makes him sigh. “Jeongguk, no.”
“But I do-” Jeongguk insists, and he feels pesky tears well up in his eyes. He doesn’t want to cry.
“I’m turning twenty-five this year, Jeongguk.” Yoongi says, and when a tear escapes Jeongguk’s eye, he sighs. “God, I feel like an asshole. Come here, Seokjin will fucking kill me if he comes home and sees you crying.”
Jeongguk hesitates, staring at Yoongi to see if he’s serious, arms half-lifted in invitation. Then he moves closer, Yoongi pulling him the rest of the way over and tucking him against his side.
Jeongguk ends up giggling, feeling warm and happy even though it didn’t work out the way his foolish heart had hoped they would.
Eighteen is a lovely age, Jeongguk thinks, even though he’s only been eighteen for roughly two hours.
A year of somewhat pining has left him with only enough to tease Yoongi with, making overexaggerated bedroom eyes and kissy faces at Yoongi from across the room. Yoongi gives in and responds to his teasing, curling his lip up in fake disgust.
Jeongguk grins, thinking about the stankface even as he’s assaulted by his best friends, showering him with love and praise and congrats on still being alive, asshole.
The honestly boring party simmers down without much fuss, and since his birthday is on a school day this year his friends soon go home. It leaves him with himself, his parents, and Yoongi.
Jeongguk motions for Yoongi to follow him and Yoongi mouths something that looks like hell no, bitch. Jeongguk sticks out his tongue and Yoongi follows suit.
Since Yoongi won’t cooperate, Jeongguk is forced to follow him to the bathroom, waiting in the hall outside. The instant Yoongi steps out of the bathroom, he makes eye contact with Jeongguk and says plainly, “I just took a shit, I don’t have the time for this right now.”
Jeongguk laughs through his nose. “Well, you wouldn’t come over like I told you to, so. I’ve got something to ask of you, anyway.”
“No, you are not propositioning me on your eighteenth birthday. No.”
Jeongguk smacks his lips, making a face. “You’re the one in the wrong here for thinking I was coming over here to proposition you. Trying that would be like telling a brick wall I want its dick. No, I just want you to kiss me.”
Yoongi crosses his arms, shifts his weight to one foot. “No.”
“Come on, just once. If you do it just this once, I’ll leave you alone about it forever.” When Yoongi still resists, face hard, Jeongguk pouts. “Please?”
Yoongi sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “Fine, okay, shit. But, not here. Your parents would fucking slaughter me. So, later.”
Jeongguk nods, heart jumping at the prospect. Yoongi’s shoulder brushes his as he walks past and Jeongguk takes some time to press his forehead against the wall and laugh, giddy.
Later turns out to be the following day. Yoongi knows what school Jeongguk goes to, of course, but Jeongguk never expected to see Yoongi’s car alongside the curb, Yoongi himself seated on the hood.
“People are gonna think I have a rich boyfriend or something,” Jeongguk says, not trying to hide his excitement as he approaches Yoongi.
Yoongi raises his eyebrows at Jeongguk. “Boy, this is a fucking used sedan, nobody in their right mind is gonna think I’m rich.”
“Okay, sure. But still.”
Yoongi sighs, sliding off the hood and walking around to the driver’s side. “Get in the car, Jeongguk.”
Jeongguk opens the door, but pauses, hoping that his hesitation will be taken as the teasing it is. Really, it’s so fun to see the look that comes across Yoongi’s face whenever Jeongguk prods at him, the subtle eye roll and sharp exhale of an elder burdened.
Yoongi, in response to this particular instance of prodding, drives forward just a little while Jeongguk is still standing there. Jeongguk gets in the car.
Yoongi takes them to McDonald’s, claiming that he can get an employee discount and still paying full price for four hamburgers and a large Coke. While they’re sitting in line, Jeongguk messaging one of his friends over KaTalk, Yoongi says, “Look at me.”
Jeongguk does so once he sends his message, turning his head towards Yoongi. Yoongi leans over the console and kisses him.
Jeongguk has next to no time to process it, certainly no time to kiss back, but his face does go hot. He stares at Yoongi while Yoongi settles back into his seat, driving forward as the SUV sitting in front of them has done.
Once the paper bags are sitting in-between them, Jeongguk whines, “Again.”
“No.”
“Come on,” Jeongguk says, voice rising in pitch.
“You said one time, shitbag,” Yoongi says, pulling out of the parking lot. “I’ll think about it.”
Jeongguk shuts up, holding out hope that he thought he got rid of a year ago.
Yoongi takes familiar turns towards Jeongguk’s house and soon enough it comes into view, all dirty siding and broken shutters. Jeongguk sits there a moment after the car pulls into the drive, doors unlocking with a dull sound. And he keeps sitting there.
“Holy shit,” Yoongi says, exasperated, and Jeongguk grins. “Okay, Jesus fuck, lean over.”
Jeongguk complies, almost a little too quickly, and Yoongi kisses the corner of his mouth. It still leaves Yoongi’s chapstick on Jeongguk’s skin, so it’s good enough.
Jeongguk exits the car with a thanks for bringing me home thrown over his shoulder. Yoongi waves half-heartedly at him through the windshield.
Jeongguk notices that Yoongi waits until he gets in the house before pulling away, and he can’t stop himself from watching Yoongi through the living room window until his car is out of view. Then he slaps his hands over his face and screams.
Jeongguk doesn’t want to graduate. He has college already lined up, going in on a music scholarship, but he doesn’t want to go.
Why? Well, there’s the obvious problem of his parents. Seokjin keeps moaning about being an empty nester and Jeongguk really hates to think about what they’re going to do while he’s gone. Probably fuck on every surface in the house. But then there’s also his friends, Taehyung and Jimin, going to a different college with different goals in mind. He’s worried about losing them, the distance and change in lifestyle too great.
But, well- there’s Yoongi. At this point, Jeongguk can’t fool himself into believing that Yoongi truly doesn’t care about Jeongguk leaving, because he can see it in the way Yoongi chews at his lips and fidgets with his clothes the day before move-in.
There’s no teasing to be had because Jeongguk is the same. They are still nothing to one another, nothing important, but Jeongguk’s heart wrenches at the idea of not being able to steal Yoongi’s french fries and make fun of his new hats.
Reassurances are exchanged, promises of calls and texts and frequent pictures. Jeongguk gets all that and more, but it takes five months of being away before he gets the first I miss you.
I miss you a whole lot more, he types. He doesn’t send it.
His first college year ends and he gets to come home.
It’s late summer and he’s smothered in kisses and good food and he notices that his parents seem happier, lighter somehow. He wonders if they’ve had the chance to do some of that cool rejuvenating shit that all empty nesters talk about, spa trips and nights out and all that.
Yoongi doesn’t answer his texts and Jeongguk is worried until he’s awoken by his phone ringing one morning, earlier than he even wakes up for college classes.
“Hey,” comes Yoongi’s gruff voice, and god damn if it doesn’t still send shivers down Jeongguk’s spine. “Do you want to go out with me?”
Jeongguk’s brain is slow in the morning. “Like a date?”
“I- yeah, a date, but not a normal one. Is that alright?”
“Mmmm, sure.”
“Can you be ready in ten minutes?”
Jeongguk closes his eyes, imagines Yoongi chewing his lip nervously. “Yeah.”
“Cool. See you then.”
Yoongi hangs up and Jeongguk listens to the silence before the beeping of a dead line.
He can get ready in less than ten minutes, because he tends to wake up five minutes before class. But he stalls with his hands on his hips, jeans unbuttoned, staring at the floor. He wonders what Yoongi looks like now, if he kept his hair touched up or if he has roots showing, if he finally scarred his bottom lip from biting it so hard. He wonders if he still smells like McDonald’s. He wonders if Yoongi still feels the same sort of practiced indifference towards Jeongguk.
Jeongguk buttons his jeans and decides that he’ll find out.
Yoongi looks the same, except his hair faded out to some sort of light peachy color, dark roots showing beneath the layers. Something in his gaze softens when Jeongguk slips out of the house, shutting the door as quietly as he can behind him, and Jeongguk feels like he could burst.
Jeongguk goes for a hug and Yoongi lets him, pressing his face into Jeongguk’s chest. He really wants to cry, but he was supposed to become a changed man in college, someone who doesn’t cry over boys who don’t love them anymore.
Jeongguk runs his hands down Yoongi’s back once, twice, until Yoongi pulls away. Yoongi’s own eyes look a little watery, and Jeongguk wants to reach out and wipe (kiss) the unshed tears away. He doesn’t.
They get into Yoongi’s car with no further words, and are halfway down the road in the opposite direction from town when Yoongi says, “Tell me about college.”
So Jeongguk does. He tells Yoongi about the friends he made, Chansik and Chanmi and Suwoong, all about his classes and what his major is shaping up to be (music, of course). When it’s clear Jeongguk has run out of things to talk about, Yoongi reaches over the console and curls his fingers around Jeongguk’s hand.
“I missed you.”
Jeongguk looks over at him, but Yoongi’s eyes are still on the road, taking them around a gentle curve with one hand on the steering wheel. Jeongguk intertwines their fingers and squeezes.
Jeongguk speaks without thinking. “I feel like I’m losing my chance. Like- I’ve wasted almost two years of my life pining after nothing.”
Yoongi stays silent, but Jeongguk sees the dip in his lip. He’s chewing on the inside of it, passing it between his teeth until it turns raw. At least Yoongi’s still the same.
Two years pining after nothing turns into three. Jeongguk is home again.
Jeongguk wonders if it’s going to be routine to do this every year, now, as he pulls on a pair of jeans and shoves his feet into his shoes. He likes it.
This time, the I missed you is said in the driveway, Yoongi’s hands on Jeongguk’s cheeks, thumbs curving to press into his skin. Jeongguk thinks Yoongi’s going to kiss him for a moment, but then Yoongi pulls away and gets into the car. Jeongguk follows suit.
This time, they drive to a dead end street that faces east and watch the sunrise. They sit on the hood of Yoongi’s car, looking to the horizon rather than to one another.
“Do you still like me?” Yoongi asks once the sun peeks over the horizon, splashing the sky with cotton candy colors.
Jeongguk weighs pros and cons, like nervous twenty year olds are wont to do. Then, “Yes.”
Yoongi reaches over and places a hand on Jeongguk’s cheek, turning Jeongguk’s head towards him and then leaning over to press his lips to Jeongguk’s. Jeongguk can kiss back this time, finally, hand coming up to cover Yoongi’s on his cheek.
Yoongi pulls away all too soon and Jeongguk can’t stop himself from welling up, face scrunching as he tries to keep from crying. “Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, sounding genuinely concerned and a little baffled.
“I feel like I’m missing out on so much,” Jeongguk says, words stuttering through his choked breaths. “Just because I’m younger than you. I’m so stupid, why can’t I just move on…”
Yoongi wipes the tears from Jeongguk’s face, then kisses his cheeks, right under his eyes. “You’re not stupid. I’m sorry.”
So, it’s like this. A cycle of I missed yous and kisses in the early morning and regrets. And it all ends here.
It ends here, in Yoongi’s apartment, on Jeongguk’s twenty-first birthday and a weekend free from college. It ends heated and rushed and feeling like something Jeongguk’s seventeen year old self would have imploded over, Yoongi’s hands roving and Jeongguk’s hands trying to keep a hold on their bottle of whiskey.
Jeongguk always imagined tasting mint gum and stale soda on Yoongi’s tongue, not heavy alcohol. But this is fine too, he guesses.
Yoongi looks delicate, especially with rosy cheeks and fumbling hands, but he kisses in such a way that makes it feel like he’s taking something of Jeongguk’s. Jeongguk wants him to take more and more and more.
It’s a mess of teeth and limbs and Jeongguk whispers things that he knows is just the whiskey talking, Yoongi’s breath hot on Jeongguk’s throat, whispering things that he doesn’t mean.
But this ends here with them asleep on Yoongi’s living room floor, Jeongguk waking up with the dull realization in the back of his head that he got drunk and made out with his longtime crush.
Jeongguk feels a headache and a good throw-up coming on, but first he feels- satisfied. Like he can finally put this to rest.
But, when Yoongi awakes himself, sitting up and stretching, Jeongguk sees hickies on his collarbones and bruises on his hips peeking out from beneath his shirt.
There are no relationship-defining questions, no dramatic confessions. There’s only Yoongi suggesting they go back to sleep and Jeongguk saying yes. There’s only Jeongguk in Yoongi’s arms, feeling like the past four years have been worth something, glad he never gave it up even if it did melt down into whiskey kisses and burning touches.
There’s just them the following day, watching the Sunday evening sunset, sitting on the hood of Yoongi’s car. There’s just kisses filled with no regrets and Jeongguk not crying, just holding tight to Yoongi’s hand.
Jeongguk’s final year of college is adorned with I love yous and late night phone calls that keep his roommate Sanghyuk shouting at him to go the fuck to sleep.
Jeongguk obliges just this once, hanging up with hushed goodnights. Then he presses his face into his pillow and laughs, giddy.