Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Just like every other strange and random thing in Jungkook's life, it starts with Taehyung.

Jungkook doesn’t know anyone else this obsessed with truth or dare. Every single time they get together he suggests it without fail, and this time, for some reason, they indulged him. 

They’ve taken their turns, drunk their beers, gone around the circle.

Hoseok keeps choosing truth. Namjoon took way too long a time to decide between the two, so Seokjin decided for him and made him change his LinkedIn profile photo to one of their drunken selfies. Seokjin cheerfully performs anything that's asked of him, much to Taehyung's absolute glee. 

Jungkook’s been watching it all go down, amused, but a bit too tired to properly participate. It’s like the bottle knows, because it hasn’t landed on him once so far. 

Right now, it’s Jimin’s turn. 

Jungkook’s sitting next to him tonight. It doesn’t happen often. Usually, Jimin would be by Taehyung or Hoseok, joking and giggling in voices a bit too low for Jungkook to hear. When Jungkook’s real lucky, Jimin sits exactly across from him, so he doesn’t need an excuse to look at him. Doesn’t need to sneak glances out of the corner of his eye, like he’s doing tonight. 

Jimin’s beautiful. He’s always beautiful. You’d think Jungkook would be used to it, living with him, but no. Still just as affected as that first time Taehyung brought him along to drinks, when Jungkook had just stared and stared at his pretty black hair and dangling silver earrings, the soft smile spread across his mouth. 

"Dare," Jimin says from next to him. He takes a great big gulp of his drink, a challenge flashing in his eyes. 

Taehyung smiles, that smile that only means bad things for the person on the other end. 

Taehyung grabs the bottle again. "Whoever this lands on," he says, wicked look in his eyes, "you have to kiss." 

Jungkook snorts as Jimin rolls his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. 

"Just say you want to kiss me, Tae-tae," he flirts, smirking. 

"Anytime, babe," Taehyung says with a wink, giving the bottle a firm twist. "But let’s give someone else a chance." 

“Come on,” Jimin says, tossing his hair back, “it’s too easy—” 

Seven pairs of eyes watch it spin round and round, only to land on—

Shit. 

Oh, no. 

Oh no. 

The whole game, the bottle didn’t land on Jungkook once, and now, at the worst moment.

He doesn’t want to look up, his eyes trained on the bottle neck pointing straight at him.

Taehyung is fucking ecstatic. "Too easy, you said?” 

Jimin goes to open his mouth, but Taehyung speaks over him. “You’re right! I don’t know what I was thinking. So we’ll up the ante a bit, for our star player!” He smiles with teeth. “You have to kiss every day, for a whole week. It’s convenient, too, since you live together!"

Jungkook is frozen, staring at Jimin, who doesn’t seem to be faring any better. 

"You’re not serious," Jungkook manages. He looks around, trying to understand if they’re all just going to let this happen. 

Namjoon, ever an angel, must catch on to his desperate plea for help telepathically. 

"I mean," Namjoon starts, and Jungkook turns to him like he’s about to save his life, "the dare’s for Jimin. Why does someone else have to be involved?”

Jungkook nods and nods, but Taehyung isn’t buying it. 

"No one said we couldn’t make dares that didn’t involve other people!" He turns towards Seokjin, who’d been observing all this silently with the air of a noble judge. "Plus, Jungkook is sitting in the circle, so he’s involved. Right, hyung?" 

He nods. "Right." 

"Why does he get to decide that?" 

"Cause it’s his house.”

"And I’m the—"

"And he’s the oldest, yes, yes," Taehyung says, flapping his hand impatiently. "We don’t have all night here. You accept the dare, Jimin-ah, or should we talk punishment?" 

Jimin looks uncomfortable now he’s realised this has a good chance of happening, back rigid, brows  furrowed.

Jungkook tenses up too as soon as Jimin turns to him and whispers, "Tae's punishments are unhinged." 

"Cause the actual dare isn’t?" Jungkook asks, heart pounding and throat dry—somehow, it’s always like that when it’s about Jimin.

"Jungkook, I know, but…" He licks his lips, and Jungkook’s eyes follow the movement. Those lips will kiss him,  if they accept. Seven times. 

"Look, I’ll owe you."

Now, that’s interesting. 

"You'll owe me," Jungkook repeats. 

"Yes," Jimin hisses in his ear, eyes wide and pleading. 

"Jimin-ah, time's running out!"

What a dick, Jungkook thinks. There’s no fucking time limit in truth or dare. 

"I'll owe you." Jimin turns to Taehyung and announces loudly, "I accept."

Fucking spectacular. 

What would he even do with a Jimin favour? 

"Perfect!" Taehyung claps. "Now, the rules."

Seokjin laughs, delighted, rubbing his hands together like a cartoon villain. Jungkook kinda wants to kick him and Taehyung both. 

"Taehyung-ah, come on," Jimin pipes up, shifting. His knee is digging into Jungkook’s thigh. “He’s not even really playing." 

Taehyung ignores him and just goes on to declare, "I need video evidence of every single one. Not that I don’t trust you," he says, eyes wide, "but you know. For…how can I explain this properly, hyung," he asks Seokjin, slapping a hand on his thigh. 

"For shits and giggles." Seokjin supplies. 

"Exactly! God, you know all the right words," he says, leaning into him. "The other rule—" 

"Since when are we putting rules on dares?" Namjoon asks, exasperated. God bless him, he’s still trying.

"Since it makes it more fun," Taehyung responds. He turns back to Jimin. "The other rule is they need to be in different places."

"Oh, can I make suggestions?" Seokjin asks with way too much interest. 

“No you cannot," Jimin says, putting his foot down. "It’s Tae’s dare." 

"And it’s already way too wordy," Jungkook supplies in support, head woozy with how fast things are going. "Enough already." 

Taehyung scoffs. "Fine, be lame."

"Seven kisses, different places," Jimin recites. "Is that all, or do you wanna add another rule? Should I be shirtless while I do them? Should I edit them together with sexy music on top?" 

"I mean, you said it, not me." 

It all devolves after that, into joking accusations and flirting and some inevitable yelling, and Jungkook stays silent with increasing dread pooling in his stomach.

Did it really have to be them? 

Sure, they live together, but they’re not friends. They’re…flatmates. They only ever really talk to each other about chores.

The hidden, shameful crush Jungkook’s nursing is his business and his business only, and now it feels like it’s being dragged to the light by Taehyung under the threat of a broken truth or dare bottle to the neck.

✨

Early, way too early for hungover Jungkook, there’s a knock on his bedroom door. 

He makes an unintelligible noise to tell whoever dares to fuck off, but it doesn’t work. There’s light streaming in, and Jungkook pulls the covers closer to himself.

"Are you awake?" Jimin’s voice. 

Of course it’s Jimin’s voice. Who else could it be? 

"No."

"Look, sorry to bother you, but I need to get going." 

"Go then," Jungkook croaks out. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. Jimin’s never in his room. "Bye bye." 

"No, it’s—" A frustrated sigh. "Don’t you remember about the dare?" 

"The…" 

Shit, what did they do last night? Jungkook remembers it in flashes—beers being opened one after the other, food arriving way too late, a spinning bottle…

Ugh, fuck. 

"I have to go to work and I won’t be back until late at night," Jimin says, and he sounds closer this time. "We have to do it now." 

Jungkook groans, opens one eye to squint at him. He’s all dressed, skinny jeans and t-shirt, a black leather jacket on top—casual and gorgeous, the Jimin special. 

Jungkook feels like death.  He bets his hair doesn’t even look human right now. He can’t even tell if he’s wearing pants.

"We’re actually doing that?"

Jimin frowns. "Yes. Sit up, come on." 

"Jimin, I’m so hungover, please." 

"I can’t lose this dare, Jungkook. Taehyung will be on my ass about it for the rest of our lives." 

"Ghost him then. Never speak to him again. Stop making noises," he says, waving his hand miserably in a shooing motion.

"You agreed!" 

"Drunk Jungkook agreed. He’s an idiot."

Jimin goes tsk, huffs. Jungkook slides further into the covers. 

"Don’t move."

Huh?

Jungkook opens his eyes slightly. What does he mean, don’t move? 

Jimin unlocks his phone and walks over to Jungkook’s nightstand. He makes a disapproving noise—no doubt regarding all the shit that’s spread all over the surface—and puts the phone, recording, against the lamp.  

He turns it on and Jungkook makes a noise of protest, wincing and turning away from the harsh light. 

"What are you—" 

"Getting it over with," Jimin says, and Jungkook feels the bed dip. 

Then it all moves too fast for Jungkook to follow. 

Jimin pulls the covers away from Jungkook’s face. With a pinched, concentrated expression, he leans in and plants a harsh, hurried little kiss on Jungkook's temple. 

Jungkook has zero time to react, because Jimin's off the bed so fast he almost loses his balance, clicking the lamp off.

"Done," he says, back turned already. He mutters a see you later under his breath and hurries out in a flash, and two seconds later the front door slams.  

What a start to his morning. 

He checks his own phone, buried somewhere under his pillow, only to see it's actually well past noon. He snorts. Well. Morning is a state of mind anyway. 

He drops his arms on the bed and turns on his back, eyes on the ceiling. Not that he can really see the ceiling in the darkness, but he still knows up from down. 

Just barely. 

His heart is hammering but his brain is still half asleep. He’s way too hungover to process this

Kim Taehyung, honestly. Jungkook just knows he did it on purpose, somehow. 

The question is, which one of them was he messing with? 

Tae’s the reason Jimin is living in Jungkook’s apartment right now. Childhood friend, same campus, getting out of a bad situation, have some mercy, Jungkook-ah! 

Jungkook needed a flatmate anyway, since his old one was graduating, so he set up a meeting. 

Jimin arrived, in all his glory, and Jungkook was tongue tied and fidgety. He barely spoke, out of fear of embarrassing himself horribly. By the end, Jimin’s bright smiles had gotten less wide, he’d stopped trying to make jokes…what must he have thought of Jungkook?

Still, when Jungkook told him he could stay, he seemed happy. He moved in a week later, and Jungkook avoided him, because he hated how flustered it made him to have Jimin’s eyes on him. 

Jimin tried, at first. He tried to knock on his door, share a meal. To invite him to watch a movie in the living room, asked if he needed something from the supermarket. Jungkook would always respond short and dry and then rush off, wincing. 

They have more or less the same meal times, but Jungkook prefers to eat in his room, with something to watch to keep him company. Their living room might as well not exist, for all that they use it these days.

No, that’s a lie. Jimin uses it, sometimes. He brings people over every few weeks, and they stay in the living room for about an hour before they move on over to the bedroom. 

The very non-soundproofed bedroom. 

Jimin only really ever speaks to Jungkook to talk about the one thing that concerns them both—the apartment and the chores, usually to reprimand him.

And like, okay, maybe Jimin’s right in that Jungkook’s a bit messy. And maybe he’s right that he should pull more of his weight. But Jimin doesn’t have to have this attitude about him, does he? 

God, he looked like he was being tortured, having to touch Jungkook. Is it really so bad, to have to do this with him for a week? An innocent little kiss on the temple took this much out of him? 

Jungkook's heart is all over the place, just from that small peck. Jimin rushed out of the room like it was radioactive. 

Whatever. Jungkook just needs to get through this week, get over his stupid little crush, and move on. 

He will. He will.

He just needs to get out of bed first. 

✨

The next day, miracle of miracles, Jimin approaches him first as Jungkook's washing his dishes after dinner. 

They haven’t ever had a conversation in the kitchen other than that initial flatmate interview. Maybe Jimin yelled at him over the abandoned chore wheel, once, but Jungkook's pretty sure he was in the living room for that.

Jungkook darts his eyes towards him. He’s in a long white shirt, sleeves pulled over his hands. It’s oversized. He’s not wearing any make-up, but he’s got his pretty rings on. 

Jungkook’s glances are practiced things, quick and efficient. 

Jimin speaks first, as he tends to do. "Hey." 

"Hey," Jungkook says. He lifts the plate and the sponge towards him, soap dripping. "Look, I’m washing." 

Jimin gives him a stare. "Better late than never, huh?"

It sounds resigned and weak with exhaustion, so Jungkook tries not to get too annoyed. It doesn’t look like Jimin’s had the best sleep, based on his red eyes and the way he keeps rubbing at them. 

Jungkook turns away. "What’s up."

"We need to do the thing. For the dare." 

That’s right. Fucking Tae. "Oh." 

He’s got his arms crossed across his chest, tapping his foot up and down. "How do you wanna do it?"

"Just…film and go, no?" He’s avoiding the question, he knows, he knows. He places the plate on the drying rack. Jimin’s eyes follow him. "We’re using your phone, I guess. Did Taehyung say we have to send it every single day as we do it?" 

"We’ll just film it and then send all of them at the end. Easier like that." 

He grabs at the first thing his fingers touch, a mug. He thinks it might even be Jimin’s—Jungkook rarely uses it. He starts washing quickly. "Means you’ll have videos of you kissing me clogging up your phone." 

"So?"

Jungkook shrugs. "What if one of your hook-ups sees?"

"My hook-ups have no business going through my phone, for one." 

"Yeah, but what if you start dating one of them? How will you explain?"

"In a week?" 

"You never know, do you?" 

"Why so many questions about my hook-ups, Jungkook?" 

He can’t really answer that, so he keeps his eyes on the mug, on the stubborn coffee stain that just won’t go away. The silence grows and grows, and Jungkook wants to run away again, but he’s stuck washing the damn dishes. 

Jimin sighs. His shoulders are slumped, his hair falling flat and messy into his eyes. "Look, let’s just get this done, alright? Where do you want it?" 

"Me? I have to choose?" 

"Would you rather I just announce it to you?"

"Didn’t even do that, yesterday." 

"I tried! You told me to go away." 

"I hadn’t slept like, at all."

"What, like I had?" 

He seems to be done with discussion, because he clicks record so quickly Jungkook doesn’t even have time to breathe. In a flash, he’s reaching for Jungkook’s nape, pulling him down and planting a kiss on his head.

Jungkook is blinking down to his wet hands when Jimin says, "Two down, asshole." 

He turns to him with wide eyes, but Jimin was talking to the camera—that he's now also giving the middle finger too.

Jimin doesn't look playful, though—he looks genuinely frustrated.

"Does it bug you that much?" 

Jimin's holding the phone to his chest, fingers tight around it. 

"Bug me? No." He shrugs. "I just think it's a stupid idea for a dare. Dares are meant to be funny in the moment. Who's laughing, here?” He looks off for a second, curled into himself. “Anyway, thanks for—Oh." 

He steps closer, reaching out. Jungkook almost retreats, because what the hell—but all Jimin does is brush something away from his cheek with his thumb. 

In the way of explanation, he just says, "Had some foam."  

And just like that, he’s gone.

Two down, about a thousand to go.

✨

Hoseok’s looking at him weird, the impending interrogation is practically palpable.

Jungkook is not in the mood. He’s spent the whole morning wondering when Jimin’s gonna pop up, phone in hand, to scowl at him about the dare. It’s bad for his nerves. 

“What.” 

Hoseok purses his lips at him. “You what.” 

Jungkook frowns. “Hyung, seriously.” 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

Jungkook blinks, taken aback. “Wow, harsh.” He digs into his plate, way fuller than it should be by this point of lunch. 

Hoseok reaches over to pat his hand quickly. “You know what I mean. You’ve been zoned out for ages. You’ve been staring into the void for so long it got creepy.” He sits back and crosses his legs, looking lithe and tall and graceful. Jungkook feels like an absolute lump in comparison. 

Jungkook pouts, keeping his eyes concealed. “I’m fine.” 

“Everything good at work?” 

“Trays. Plates, kitchens, bills, fetching waters and wines and sparkling ciders. Whatever.” Jungkook shrugs. “Same as always.” 

“Your folks?” 

“Fine, hyung—” 

“At home?” 

Bingo. 

He can’t really discuss it, though. “It’s alright.” 

“Shit, Kook. That bad?” He leans forward on his elbows on the table. “For you, alright is like, one step from despair.” 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m fine, honestly. Eat your lunch,” he says, pushing the plate towards him jerkily. “I don’t have all day.”

He really doesn’t. He needs to go back home to suffer and be kissed and suffer again, in that order. 

Hoseok stares at him for another second, but Jungkook knows this technique—the silence will not get him. He turns to his food and attacks it with purpose. 

Hoseok drops it, but Jungkook can tell he’s keeping a cautious eye on him, like Jungkook’s a powder keg about to explode. 

Well, Hoseok doesn’t get it. No one gets it. 

Home is a nightmare right now. 

He’s pretty sure Jimin doesn’t like him. And that sucks, because Jungkook thinks he could have, if only he’d acted fucking normal in the beginning. 

He watches Jimin interact with his friends all the time, adopted into their group in a heartbeat, fitting in like he’d always been there. Jimin’s playful with them, caring, funny—Hoseok and Taehyung especially, even if Taehyung is on the receiving end of Jimin’s sulk right now. 

Jungkook had gotten good enough at ignoring the sting from their neutral interactions, had just gotten used to being a presence Jimin didn’t mind—but now, thanks to this stupid dare, Jimin comes to him with a little frown every day to ask him where Jungkook wants his kiss like it’s another chore they have to share. 

It’s so twisted. 

So Jungkook thinks he has the right to zone out, frankly. It’s a lot to fucking process. 

When he gets back home, it’s empty. It’s both good and bad news. 

He looks for a distraction, something long and easy to watch to occupy his brain.

Before too long, Jimin gets home. The front door opens and closes; some shuffling from the kitchen, presumably Jimin arranging the groceries, pad pad pad of footsteps approaching, and... 

A knock on Jungkook’s door.

"Can I come in?" 

Not even a hello. 

"What for," Jungkook asks, though he knows, not taking his eyes off his screen yet. 

Jimin doesn’t call bullshit, but Jungkook can just tell he wants to. Still, he shows restraint. "How do you want to do it today?" 

Jungkook sighs. He swivels his chair towards Jimin, but stays put, not getting up yet. He twists and untwists his fingers in his lap, bounces his foot. "I don’t know. Whatever." 

"You alright?" Jimin asks. 

"Mm?" Jungkook gives him a forced smile. "Great."

Jimin frowns, always, always frowns. Jungkook’s never seen him frown at anyone else. 

"Is it, though, Jungkook?" He purses his lips. "Look, if it’s making you this uncomfortable—"

"‘M not uncomfortable," Jungkook lies through his teeth. Bug me? No.

"Look, I get it. Kissing someone you don’t even really know that well…”

He’s making it sound like it’s all the same to him, and it’s pissing Jungkook off, frankly. 

Why can’t he be affected by this too? Is it really just this minor annoyance to him? 

"It’s not like it’s real kissing. That would be uncomfortable, maybe. But like a kiss on the cheek, it's not that intimate, is it?" 

A kiss is a kiss, right? It shouldn’t mean anything, unless there are things between the people. Attraction. Feelings. Whatever. 

If he admits to being uncomfortable, he’s admitting to whatever. So, no, not uncomfortable for Jungkook. Not at all. 

Jimin’s eyes flash in a challenge, and suddenly it's clear why he and Taehyung get along like a house on fire. 

"So, you’d be fine with it."

Jungkook swallows hard. "Yeah." 

"With whatever." 

A kiss is a kiss, Jungkook internally chants to himself. "Yes." 

Jimin turns on the video, stacks the phone up and points it towards them. Jungkook eyes it nervously, but when Jimin turns back around to him he straightens up, tries to look nonchalant. 

It’s not easy. Jimin’s captivating as ever. There’s still make-up on his eyelids, some shimmery eye-shadow he wears sometimes to go out.

Where was he? Was it just grocery shopping, or was he doing something else before, too? Was he on a date? 

If he was, it couldn’t have ended well—not if Jimin made a grocery stop and then headed to Jungkook’s stuffy room to keep the dare going. 

Maybe that’s why he's so easy to rile up. Jungkook didn’t even try, and yet here Jimin is, eyes on fire with something, walking to him slowly and closing, closing, closing the distance.  

He’s starting to regret his words, but then again, when else had he had the chance to be this close?

"What if I kiss you here?” Jimin brings his thumb over the corner of Jungkook’s mouth and presses, staring. Jungkook follows the movement in a trance, locked in place. “Does that count as real?" 

There’s something in his voice, something saying come on, show me what you’re made of. 

"Whatever," Jungkook whispers. He doesn’t dare speak any louder. 

Jimin’s eyes are still on fire, and Jungkook’s chest isn’t faring any better as Jimin leans up and plants a kiss at the corner of his mouth, lingering.

It can’t last long, it physically can’t—but he would swear, he’d swear time stopped when their lips almost brushed together, when Jimin kissed so, so tantalizingly close to his mouth. 

When Jimin steps down, he runs his thumb over the spot again. 

"Still fine with it?" His voice is lower, softer.

Oh, Jungkook is dizzy. 

"Yeah. You?"

"Great." He drags his eyes upwards and says, "Done for today, then." 

Jungkook blinks back into awareness. He lands back inside his messy room, his quiet evening. He remembers where they are, and who they are, and what they’re doing this for. 

His eyes flick to the camera. Jimin steps away and turns it off. 

"See you, Jungkook," he says, voice steady, like they didn’t just do this.   

As soon as the door closes behind Jimin, Jungkook starts to pace. The room is warm, warm, warm, he can’t fucking stand it. He opens the window so harshly it knocks into the wall. 

"Not that intimate, is it?" He imitates himself and his dumb voice. "Idiot." 

He digs his palms into his eyes until he sees stars. 

This is the longest week of his life, and it’s barely halfway through. 

✨

Jungkook makes a beeline for the couch as soon as he enters the house, slamming the door behind him. He drops all his weight on it at once, landing with a hearty oof, legs hanging halfway off.  

Thankfully the couch is big enough not to bother Jimin, who’s huddled up in the far corner of it. He looks at Jungkook from the corner of his eye, lifting his gaze from his phone. "You okay?" 

No, he is not. 

He’s running on two hours of sleep, half a meal, and had to interact with so many demanding, shitty ass people today he feels like he’s going to explode.

"Today sucked." He flops onto his back and raises his legs in the air, trying to kick off his shoes. It’s fucking difficult, but he’s not about to untie his laces—he refuses to do anything even remotely resembling work as a matter of principle. 

"Take those out before you come in." He doesn’t say it harshly, but it’s still a reprimand, and it stings.

He didn’t even ask why Jungkook’s day was bad. Just straight into scolding about the stupid floor. 

"I’m cleaning tomorrow, aren’t I?" Jungkook groans, getting rid of his socks too. "I’ll vacuum and mop extra hard."

"It’s not about that, you should always—"

"Jimin," he snaps, "Get off my case, okay?"

All the softness is gone from Jimin’s tone when he responds. "Hey, relax." 

That’s rich. "You relax." He grabs a pillow, hugs it and lies down on the couch. "Why’re you always so wound up? Don’t you ever just fucking chill?" He can’t get comfortable on it, trying to shape it how he wants to no avail. 

"I’m wound up? How about you stop—" 

"No, wait," Jungkook says, putting his hands up in surrender. He knows that tone, and he hates it, and he absolutely cannot deal with it today. "Stop, stop." 

Thankfully, Jimin does. 

Jungkook’s too exhausted to fight. He’s too exhausted to even think, and this stupid pillow is still so fucking uncomfortable, and he needs... god, he needs a hug. He needs someone to play with his hair. 

As soon as the idea enters his head, it's all he can think about. He will not leave this couch without getting his hair played with, actually. He just needs to find a way—

Ah.

In one move, he’s shoved it to the other side of the couch and scooted forward, dropping his head in Jimin’s lap. 

"What—" Jimin barely has time to get his hands and phone out of the way, raising them next to his head. "What the hell, Jungkook.”

"Remember how you owe me?" Jungkook says, eyes closed and getting comfortable in Jimin’s lap. "Play with my hair.”  

Jimin is incredulous. "You want to use your favour like this?" 

"Fuck yes," Jungkook says. He’s usually not like this around Jimin, but he’s so tired he feels like he’s not in his body—and this empty body feels a lot more comfortable being demanding and shameless, apparently. "So don’t talk to me about cleaning anymore and play with my hair." 

"You’re serious."

He grabs Jimin’s hand blindly and deposits it on his own head. "Dead serious."

Jimin lets it rest there, unmoving. 

He can’t let this get awkward. He’ll never live it down, if he does. 

"Look," Jungkook says, voice tired, "I’ve just had the longest shift in the history of the world. I have a headache and I’m running on half a sandwich and three coffees, so can we please just…not fight? Just for today." 

He speaks gently, earnestly. It might even be the longest series of sentences he’s managed to string together when talking to Jimin. 

Miraculously, something about it works, because Jimin moves. 

"I don’t want to fight either," he says, sighing, petting Jungkook’s hair, timidly but steadily. "I had a shit day too." 

He considers not asking. Jimin hadn’t, after all. 

But if he wants things to change between them, he’s going to have to break their miserable little cycle, isn’t he? 

"Wanna talk about it?" 

They don’t talk like this, they both know it. 

Jungkook hopes that they can, just for today. 

Hesitantly, Jimin speaks. "You know how I teach dance on the weekends?" 

Dance on the weekends, bar on the weeknights. Jungkook knows. Still, he doesn’t answer right away. "To babies, right?" 

Jimin huffs. "Ten-year-olds, but close enough."

"S what I said." 

"One of my kids, one of the younger ones in the class, he hasn’t been performing the same. For a while now.” He gets the word out forcefully, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to talk about it. “So I told him to stay after class and asked him, and then he didn’t show up for two classes in a row, so I called his mom and she told me…" His voice doesn’t shake, but it’s small. "She said I made him cry so badly he didn’t want to come anymore."

Jungkook opens his eyes. "Shit."

"I…I just told him he needs to do better," he says, guilt laced through every word. "I’m usually good with them. I don’t…I just wasn’t having the best week." He shrugs. It’s a weak defence, and he must know it. "So I must have ended up being harsher than I should have been." 

“Well…” He needs to say something--Jimin just opened up, for god’s sake, he can’t leave him hanging. "If the lectures about cleaning are anything to go by…you could work on your tone." He looks up with a small smirk, to show Jimin he doesn’t mean it badly. “Just a bit.” 

Jimin gives him a flat look, but Jungkook swears he sees amusement glinting in his eyes. "What, have I made you cry too?" 

He says it half-jokingly, so Jungkook responds the same way. "What do you think I do in my room all day? It’s just mountains of tissues in there, you can barely see the bed anymore—" 

Jimin pinches him, and he jerks, huffing a laugh, surprised. "Jimin!"

"Careful. I’m still older than you." 

"You don’t act like it—" 

Jimin does it again, on his neck this time, and it stings in a different way. "When will you learn to respect me, huh?" 

Jungkook frowns. "Why do you think I don’t?" 

"You jab at me all the time. You never listen to me. You don’t call me hyung, but you do it with everybody else." 

"I’m friends with them.”

"Oh," he says, small, drawing his hand away. He sounds uncomfortable. “Got it.” 

"No, wait." He pulls on Jimin’s sleeve. "Not what I meant. Just…" He should tell him, right? They’re here already. They’re talking, for once. Jungkook should use this. "Sometimes I feel like all I do is annoy you. Feel like you daydream about punching me in the face." 

"What." 

"You just glare at me a lot. Do you know that?” He tries to poke at him. “Be honest. Are you thinking about punching me?” 

Jimin looks down, a little frown between his eyebrows, but not like his usual one. This time he just seems thoughtful, not angry.  “I’m not.” 

They’re somewhere in between, now—not their usual tense atmosphere, not the weird little truce they struck up the past couple minutes. They’re sitting in silence, Jimin’s hand resting on Jungkook’s shoulder. 

Jimin moves first, to pick up his phone from where it had fallen between the cushions. 

"Should we do the dare, since we’re here?" 

That’s the end of that, then. 

He’s a little bummed they can’t keep talking, but this fever dream lasted long enough—he’s in Jimin’s lap, for god’s sake.  "Sure." 

He tries to get up, but Jimin pushes him back down by the shoulder. "Stay there." 

Jimin presses record, angling the phone towards them, and it will never stop being weird to Jungkook, no matter how many times they do it. 

Just like yesterday, when he was walking towards Jungkook, Jimin takes his time. He brushes the hair away from Jungkook’s face slowly, not saying a word. 

He presses a gentle kiss to Jungkook’s forehead, and Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut.

It’s so different from the other two, quick and harsh, embarrassed little things. Jimin went into this one slow, deliberate—it was soft, like his voice earlier, when he asked everything okay? 

Jungkook wants more of Jimin’s softness. He wants it all for himself. 

He feels himself getting warm under Jimin’s gaze. He hasn’t moved far, their noses almost brushing. His hair is hanging down, and Jungkook wants to brush it away, same as Jimin did to him.

"Done for today," he murmurs, voice low. "Thanks." 

"Sure," Jungkook mutters back, eyes trained on Jimin’s mouth. 

Jimin smiles. He slips a hand into Jungkook’s hair again, massaging his scalp. Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, embarrassingly. 

"You like this that much?" 

"It’s relaxing," Jungkook says, still flushed and melting. "I needed that today." 

"Well," Jimin says, "you’re doing me a pretty big favour. I’d say it’s only fair that I owe you something, still." 

"Yeah?" Jungkook’s brain is mush. "How about…a favour for each kiss?" 

He says it without thinking—it's not like Jimin's going to agree, anyway. Jungkook's not even doing that much, he just sits there and gets kissed once a day. It takes seconds, why would he deserve—

"Seven," Jimin says, agreeing. "Okay." 

Oh.

Jimin leans back, and Jungkook misses the closeness immediately, but he can’t do anything about it—and anyway, Jimin’s hand is still carding through his hair gently, making a happy little puddle out of him. 

He drifts off not long after. 

A favour for a kiss. 

✨

This morning was awkward. 

Not only had they woken up on the couch together, but Jungkook’s head was still on Jimin’s lap, Jimin’s hand still cradling his head. They must have both been exhausted, falling asleep early like that. 

Jimin had woken up first, and he tried to gently extricate himself, but he woke Jungkook in the process too, and, well…they haven’t really looked each other in the eye since. 

Now he’s fidgeting outside Jimin’s door, trying to find the guts to knock. 

They’re going to have to talk again eventually, right? Jungkook might as well initiate this time. 

He takes a big breath to steel himself. He knocks and then pushes the already cracked door open wider. He doesn’t step in, hands in his pockets. 

"Um, Jimin?" 

Jimin’s reading in his bed. He closes the book but doesn’t put it down, holds it in his hands and fidgets too with the ends of the pages. "Yeah?" 

Push through the awkwardness, Jungkook, come on. 

"I’m. I’m leaving. Going out." Jimin doesn’t respond, just looks at him. "I don’t know when I’ll be back, but it will be very late." 

"Oh," Jimin says. He nods to himself and gets up, placing the book gently on the nightstand. "So we should do it now." 

He gets it immediately. Of course he does. Why else would Jungkook be here? 

For a second, he imagines a different life, where they're friends. Where they're close, and they let each other know when they're leaving, like a promise to see each other later, like a so you wouldn't worry. 

But that's not them. All they have tying them together is a stupid dare, and a night of awkward, accidental cuddling. 

Jimin moves towards Jungkook, dragging his feet, and suddenly Jungkook can’t take it. He blurts out, 

"You know how you asked me if it’s weird?” He nods fervently. "It’s weird." 

Jimin huffs, rubs his temples. He doesn’t look offended, at least. "It is, isn’t it." 

"I think it’s because it’s our only conversation. That’s what’s so strange."

"Oh?" Jimin sticks his hands in his pockets, a little looser. "We just spend half our time fighting and the other half talking about kissing each other. What’s so strange about that?" 

He locks eyes with Jungkook, and his smile is meant for both of them—born out of this bizarre situation they’ve found themselves in. Jungkook’s heart gives a little thump, hopeful. He smiles back, twisting his fingers together, nervous. "So, should we…talk about something else?" 

"Should we make a rule? Have a conversation with each other every day before the kiss?" 

Jungkook winces. "How fucking sad is that." 

"That wasn’t a no, though." 

"I guess." He shrugs. “Why not. Let’s do it.” 

They’re silent for another beat until Jimin breaks them out of it, as always. "So, does this count?" He slips his phone out of his pocket. "Can I kiss you now?"

Jungkook flushes. "Ah…yeah." As Jimin goes to the video setting, Jungkook recounts, just to get that can I kiss you now out of his head. "We’ve done…temple, hair," he brings his finger to each spot to remember, "forehead." 

"Here, too," Jimin says, pressing his thumb into the corner of his own mouth in demonstration. 

"Right." Jungkook breathes. His mouth works faster than his brain, saying, "If you did the other side, do you think it would count as a different place?" 

Jimin hums, stepping closer. "Well…" His eyes are on Jungkook’s lips. "If we say that this," he presses into the right side with his thumb, "is one corner of your mouth, then this," he slides his finger over it to press into the opposite side, "is the other one. Two different places." 

The whole world’s narrowed down to where Jimin’s touching him. "Right. Sound logic." 

"You think?" 

"Mhm." Does he sound a little desperate to Jimin too, or is it just his idea? "So, we’re doing that?" 

"Yes." 

"The phone," Jungkook mutters, not taking his eyes off Jimin. 

"Can’t forget about Kim Taehyung," Jimin grumbles. He quickly hits record, angles them in. "Voyeuristic little piece of shit." 

Jungkook chuckles, and he’s about to add something too when Jimin catches his chin between his thumb and forefinger—that shuts him up nice and quick.

"Sure you don’t want to try somewhere else?" he whispers, checks in one last time. 

Jungkook shakes his head. How could he. 

Jimin tilts him down, pressing a kiss to the corner of Jungkook’s mouth, and an exhale is punched out of him, some of the tension finally releasing. 

Another day, done. Jungkook survived. 

But Jimin is still not stepping back. He hovers and hovers. They both do, standing still a breath away from each other. 

"I have to go," Jungkook mutters after a few moments, lips almost brushing Jimin’s. 

"Okay," Jimin responds. He lowers the phone, but he’s still there. So, so close. 

"Going." 

"Go, then," Jimin says with a smile this time. He lets go of Jungkook’s chin.

"Right," Jungkook says, nodding. "Right." He steps back. "Um. See you?" 

"Unless you move out of my house," he says, teasing. Teasing. Jungkook must be hallucinating. 

He points at him. "My house too, Jimin-ssi!" 

"Our house," Jimin says softly, no sign of a joke in his tone this time. 

It stops Jungkook in his tracks. "Our…yeah." 

He snaps himself out of it and turns away, leaving Jimin to go back to his book where he found him. 

Our house, he mouths to himself as he takes the stairs three by three.

✨

The next day, Jimin finds him first. 

Not that he’s made himself hard to find. In fact, he’s in the living room for once, typing away on the laptop with his headphones in.

He feels a dip in the couch and then his headphones are pulled from over his left ear. 

He takes them off completely to hang around his neck. "Hm?" 

"I have an idea for our pre-kiss conversation."

Because that’s just the life Jeon Jungkook is living right now. 

Jimin’s sitting quite close. Their legs are almost pressed together, and Jungkook’s mind flashes back to the night of the party, when Jimin’s knee was digging into his thigh. 

He’s fresh from the shower, wet hair slicked back and face shining. 

Jungkook nods. "Hit me."

"How do you want to get back at Taehyung after this?" Jimin says drily, and only breaks into a smile when Jungkook laughs. "Next time we play truth or dare, we need to make him do something atrocious."

"Hey," Jungkook says, fake scolding. They’re there by now, aren’t they? He wants them to be. "You’re saying kissing me is atrocious?" 

"I mean, there are worse things," Jimin says with a smirk. "I could be kissing Seokjin-hyung." 

Jungkook scrunches his nose. "Ugh. No." 

"Exactly." Jimin stretches. "So you’re not too bad, I guess." 

"What high praise," he says with an eye roll. "You really know how to flirt, don’t you, Jimin-ssi?" 

He means it as a joke, clearly, but Jimin’s face just shifts.

It’s like he’s a whole other person entirely. He drops his head back and scoots even closer, leaving practically no space between their bodies. "Wait until you see the real thing.” 

He smells amazing, clean and fresh, so Jungkook doesn’t think about it when he says, “What’s that like?” 

“Oh.” Jimin smirks. Slowly, he slides his hand up Jungkook’s thigh, and it should feel sudden, should feel jarring, but it just makes Jungkook warm. “Jungkookie wants a demonstration?”

Does he? 

Yes, he fucking does. 

Can he take it? That’s another thing entirely. 

He’s frozen for one, two, three seconds, short circuiting completely—

Jimin breaks into a smile, retreating his hand like nothing happened.

Fucking hell.

Jungkook can breathe again, but at what cost?  

"Seriously, though," Jimin asks, nudging him with his elbow lightly. "What's with the Jimin-ssi? Why don’t you call me hyung?" 

"I told you why."  He avoids Jimin's eyes as he tries to fight his flush. How can Jimin just turn it on and off like that? "I didn’t know if you wanted me to." 

"Don’t you think it’s weird that you’re close with everybody else and you still call me Jimin-ssi?" 

"Sometimes I also call you Jimin." 

"Extra disrespectful, thank you." He slaps Jungkook’s thigh lightly, and it’s playful this time. "Come on, try it." 

Try it. Just like that, try it. 

"Jimin-hyung." It feels strange, but it makes a little smile bloom on Jimin’s face.

"Jungkook-ah," Jimin responds, and Jungkook likes that, he likes that a lot. "Where will the kiss be today?" 

"Maybe…oh." He flexes his fingers, wiggles them. “Maybe we can try the hand?”

"Like…" Jimin reaches for his hand, traces his fingers over Jungkook’s palm. His hands are so small compared to Jungkook’s. So soft, too. "Here? Or…" He turns it around, runs his thumb over it. "Here?" 

Jimin’s touch is so gentle it’s giving him goosebumps. "Either." 

Jimin considers it for a second. "Can you set up the phone?" 

Jungkook grabs the phone from the coffee table with his free hand. "Your code—"

"1313."

He sets it up. 

Jimin brings his hand up slowly, and Jungkook tells himself he won’t watch, but…

He was expecting the palm or the back of his hand, but Jimin’s lips land on his wrist, soft, sliding against his skin. Jungkook looks at them, looks and looks and wonders what it might be like to feel them pressed against his own. 

They almost did that twice now. Has Jimin thought about it, too? 

He’s never had this with anyone else. Never had kisses pressed to so many parts of him except his lips, with no intention of going further, no acknowledgement of feelings or attraction or anything between them. 

Jungkook knows where he’s at, but Jimin? 

Maybe he needs to ask. He wants to understand, because it seems like Jimin’s enjoying this, somehow, so wouldn’t that mean—

Jimin’s phone rings, shuttering their little bubble.

"Sorry," he says, like they were interrupted—like he intended to stay, even after the kiss was done. He squeezes Jungkook’s knee and gets up, saying hello? and disappearing into his room. 

Jimin sitting close to him, joking with him, smiling at him, while last week the extent of their communication would be a stilted hello when they crossed each other in the hallway. 

This is moving way, way too fast for Jungkook to keep up.

He thinks about the feeling of Jimin’s lips on his wrist again, and the goosebumps come back with a vengeance.

He sinks into the couch, closing his eyes.

He wonders where tomorrow’s kiss will be. 

✨

His phone rings on his way back from work.

Jimin, it flashes at him. 

He frowns down at it. Jimin never calls him. If he needs something—which is extremely rare in itself—he always texts. 

He picks up, worry already nestling into his chest. "Hello?

"Jungkook?" 

"Hey. Is everything—"

"Can you come pick me up?" 

His voice is shaking, and it stops Jungkook in his tracks.  Some old man bumps into him and sends him a glare. "Pick you up where?"

"At work. The bar." He sounds breathless, like he’s pacing, rushing through his words. "You know where I work?" 

"I have the address." 

"Could you come." 

"Is everything okay? Are you safe?" 

"Yes, just. Please?" 

Fuck. Please? "Yeah. Yeah. On my way." 

He almost wants to ask Jimin to stay on the line, but he’s already hung up by the time he thinks to say it. It’s fine, he tells himself. He said he’s safe. 

He rushes to where he parked his car, way too far from work. He’s out of breath by the time he gets there, throwing his backpack into the passenger’s seat and booking it to the bar.

He runs his busted old car through the streets like a maniac, Jimin’s weak, trembling voice loud in his ears. What could have shaken him up this badly, badly enough to call Jungkook of all people? 

He parks in a way that’s asking for a fine and storms into the bar. Even though it’s still early, the place is packed, warm and suffocating.

He pushes through to the counter and sees a young man pouring a pint of beer.

"Where’s Jimin?"

The person raises an eyebrow at him. "Who’s asking?"

"Jungkook. His roommate." He looks behind the guy, cranes his neck. The people on either side of him in the bar are looking at him weirdly, but he ignores them. "Is he back there?" 

He comes behind the bar without waiting for an answer. The guy purses his mouth like he’s displeased but doesn’t stop him. "Door to your right," he says, turning back to pour another beer. 

Jungkook goes through the curtain and then bursts through the door to the right into a stuffy, dusty room. Crates are everywhere, and Jimin’s pacing up and down in the tiny space. 

He jerks up when Jungkook opens the door. He seems really upset. 

Jungkook moves close immediately, checking for—something. Anything. Any sign to point to what’s happening. Physically, he seems fine, but he's disheveled and upset. "What’s going on?"

"Is there a car outside? Blue car?" 

"I..." Fuck, he didn’t really…"Yeah. Actually, yeah," he says. There was a guy leaning on the hood of a car, smoking and looking shady. Jungkook didn’t really notice the colour, but it must have been blue. 

"And was there a guy?" 

"Beard, cigarette, greasy hair? Yeah." 

"He’s a regular," Jimin explains, pushing his hands through his hair. "He’s always been here, ever since I started. He always talks to me, hits on me."

Jungkook’s already fuming. He grips his hands into fists in an effort not to reach out to Jimin. “Did he do something?” 

"Lately, he’s been more persistent. Way more. He’s been asking if I have a boyfriend, trying to get me to go out with him, buying me drinks." He swallows, still pacing. "Weeks of this, just endless asking, asking, asking." 

Is that why he’s been so visibly stressed lately?

I had a shit day too. I hadn’t been having the best week. 

Fuck, how long has this been going on?

Jimin’s still not done. "Tonight, he drank a lot. Way more than usual. And he…" He draws a breath, stops pacing. "He grabbed my arm and said he wouldn’t leave this place tonight if I didn’t go with him." 

Jungkook can’t stay silent anymore. "What the fuck?" He wants to touch Jimin, but he doesn’t know if he can. "And no one did anything?" 

"My co-worker threw him out," Jimin responds, "so I thought that would be it, but I checked and I saw he’d like—camped outside, so I couldn’t—I couldn't walk out alone." He looks at Jungkook, wide and pleading. "I just needed a ride home. Everyone else lives so far away, and I couldn’t go out alone, and I thought since you were out already maybe you wouldn’t mind—"

"Of course not," Jungkook reassures, stepping closer. But that’s not all that’s bugging him about this story. "Your boss?" 

Jimin shakes his head. "We called him. He just said to kick him out and only call the cops if he gets violent."

Angry, angry, angry. He pushes it down, breathes through it. Jimin needs calm right now.

"What about tomorrow? And the day after?" 

"I don’t know." Jimin runs his hands through his hair again, messing it up even more. "I don’t know how to get him to back the fuck off. I don’t think he’ll drop it until he sees me, like, making out with my boyfriend. Who doesn’t exist." 

He rubs his eyes, rolls his shoulder. He looks miserable. Jungkook wants to wrap him up in a hug. 

"But I can deal with that tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you." He visibly shuts his panic down, straightens up. He grabs his jacket, making to slip it on. "Let’s go."

"Wait," Jungkook says, plan already formulating in his mind. It’s crazy, maybe stupid, but he can’t just be content walking Jimin out tonight and leaving him to his fate after. "We can try something." 

Jimin looks at him. "Try what?"  

"Okay. Um. How about this." He takes a breath. "We go out there, and make it seem like we’re together. Like, together." He rushes through the explanation, nervous. "I have my arm around you, and you, I don’t know. Around my waist." 

Jimin doesn’t explode at him, or call him an idiot for suggesting it. He takes it in calmly, listens, and just says, like it's already a lost cause, "I don't think that will be enough. It's okay, let's just go." 

Jungkook chews on the inside of his cheek. 

"Okay, maybe…" He takes a breath. Here he goes, about to make an even more ridiculous suggestion. "Maybe before we get in the car, we kiss." He resists the urge to close his eyes to avoid Jimin’s reaction. "To make sure he sees. Then you call in sick for a couple days, let it settle. And if he comes back, I’m calling the cops on him." 

"You’re serious?" 

Jungkook nods. 

It’s a weird plan,  he knows. Outrageous, maybe, to suggest this to someone he’s barely even friends with. What if Jimin gets offended, what if—

Jimin takes a beat, and then simply says, "Alright. Let’s go." 

He reaches for his bag, but Jungkook goes for it first. "Give me that." He takes it, slides it over one shoulder. 

He takes Jimin’s hand in his without thinking about it too much, going out first. The guy behind the bar looks at them, and Jimin stops to tell him, "I’m going home. You’re alright to—" 

The guy just nods, ushering them away. "You coming tomorrow?" 

"No. Or the day after." 

"Good," he says. "I’ll let boss know." He nods at Jungkook and turns back to a customer without waiting for a response.  

Right before they reach the door, Jungkook slides his arm around Jimin’s shoulders. "Ready?" 

"Yeah." He puts his arm around Jungkook’s waist, a little tighter than necessary, and pushes through the door. 

Jimin tenses as soon as the guy comes into view. He’s still smoking, and he sits up as soon as he sees them. Jungkook glares at him, holding Jimin closer. Thankfully, the guy doesn’t move towards them, just stays still and observes them with an ugly, twisted expression. 

Thank God Jungkook didn’t park next to him. They reach the car and Jungkook puts Jimin’s bag in without letting go of him. 

He pulls him gently towards him after he closes the door, then walks him back until Jimin’s back presses against the car. He darts a look. The guy is still looking. 

Jimin asks, "You ready?"

"We don’t have to do this," Jungkook says, hating the way Jimin looks so nervous, biting his lip. On instinct, he brushes Jimin’s hair away from his face, runs a finger down his cheek. "It was just an idea. We can just go home."

"No," Jimin says, clutching at the lapels of Jungkook’s jacket. "It’s a good idea." He locks eyes with Jungkook and says, a little desperate, "Kiss me."  

It’s the first time he’s kissing first. It starts simple, close lipped, not that different from the small kisses Jimin’s given him these past few days. He doesn’t know how far he should go. They’re doing this with a purpose, as part of a plan—Jungkook can’t kiss him like he wants to. 

And fuck, he wants to. 

Jimin doesn’t seem satisfied with the shallow press of lips, though. He slings his arms around Jungkook’s neck and presses himself closer, chest to chest. 

They could fake it. They could just stay here, forehead to forehead, and let the guy think what he thinks. 

But Jungkook, encouraged by Jimin’s hand slipping into his hair, goes for it for real. 

He leans away for just a breath and when he comes back, he slides their lips together, opens up, asking. 

Jimin follows easily. He presses in, turns Jungkook to the angle that fits him and kisses him properly, and all the while, Jungkook’s mind is racing. 

Why did Jimin ask him? He could have asked for someone else’s help. Namjoon-hyung is buffer, he would have come running to help him. Seokjin-hyung is tall and imposing, and he could have yelled at the man until he was sure to never show up here again. Was it really just because the others live far, that Jimin called him? Just because they live together, and Jungkook could drive him home? 

He’s also thinking, selfishly, he’s kissing me, Jimin’s kissing me. 

Way too soon, Jimin pulls back. It’s just a fraction, their lips still close enough to touch. "Is he gone?" 

Jungkook checks over Jimin’s shoulder. 

The guy’s still there. He looks angry, eyes focused on them. 

"No." 

Without a word, Jimin pulls him back in, open and deep, urgent. His hands are grasping all over Jungkook’s clothes, movements rushed and jerky. Jungkook can taste how tense he is, he can feel it all over.

He can’t pretend this is for them anymore. Jimin’s in distress, and Jungkook just needs to be there for him.

"It’s okay," Jungkook mumbles against his lips.  He rubs his hands soothingly against his sides. Jimin makes a horrible little sound and rushes back in, connecting their mouths harshly.

This is so messed up. He should never have suggested it.

He just tries to keep up, tries to let Jimin lead this, whatever is it. 

Jungkook pulls away immediately as soon as he hears the car drive off. He checks again, relieved to see no one there. "He’s gone," he says gently, running his hand over Jimin’s side one more time.  "It’s okay." 

"Fuck," Jimin mutters, eyes on the ground. "Fuck."

His shoulders slump and Jungkook brings him closer until Jimin’s leaning on him, forehead against Jungkook’s chest. 

Jimin’s breathing harshly, buried in Jungkook’s shirt. Helpless to do anything else, Jungkook just holds him, wraps himself around him. 

Jimin takes another minute to gather himself. When he comes back up, his eyes are red rimmed. He looks up at Jungkook and flits them away again. He swallows hard. "God, I’ll never stop owing you, will I?" He tries to laugh, but it’s still watery. 

"You owe me nothing," Jungkook rushes to reassure. "If anything, I shouldn’t have suggested…"

"It worked, didn’t it?" Jimin says with a sad little smile. "You did well."  

"Still, I…" Jungkook shakes his head. "If that guy comes back..." 

"I’ll deal with it," Jimin says firmly. 

"Hyung," Jungkook says, trying to catch his eye. "If he comes back, you can always call me. Just like you did today. Okay?"

The look Jimin gives him is enough to make Jungkook warm. There’s gratitude there, there’s tenderness, and it’s so new to see it from Jimin that he almost looks away. 

"Okay." Jimin leans up on his tip-toes and presses his lips tightly against his cheek. Despite having spent minutes just now kissing properly, this is what sends shivers down Jungkook’s spine. "Thank you." 

They ride home in silence. Jungkook’s leg is bouncing up and down, a terrible tension flooding him. He’s mad—at the guy, at Jimin’s coworker, at his useless boss. How could this have been the only solution? What would have happened if Jungkook hadn’t answered his phone.

He’s mad at himself, too, for enjoying the kiss even a little, while Jimin was trembling with panic. 

Jimin spends the whole trip back with his eyes closed, head leaned back against the seat. When they get home, he heads directly into the shower. 

Jungkook is restless. He wouldn’t want to be alone, if he were in Jimin’s shoes right now, but he can’t just decide that for him.

Still, he feels the need to do something.

He goes to the kitchen and makes Jimin some tea, leaves it on his nightstand. He hesitates, almost leaves, but then he sees a stack of post-its on Jimin’s desk. On a whim, he grabs one and writes i’m up late if you want some company.

He still thinks it might be too much, but he makes himself stick it on the book on Jimin’s nightstand.

In the morning, Jungkook makes breakfast and eats in the kitchen instead of retreating back to his room. 

He’s kind of waiting,  wanting to make sure Jimin’s still doing okay.  He didn’t come last night, so he has no idea—the last he saw of him was the closing bathroom door. 

He doesn’t know what he could do if he’s not okay, but some breakfast already ready for him can’t hurt, can it? 

Jimin comes out at around ten, looking all soft and sleepy carrying the empty mug. Jungkook’s heart flutters. He drank it, at least.  

"Morning," Jimin mutters, rubbing his eyes.

"Hey. How’d you sleep?" 

Jimin shrugs. "Had better nights." 

Jungkook hands him a cup of coffee and Jimin takes it with both hands, nodding in thanks. 

He doesn’t know how to ask. He doesn’t know if Jimin wants him to. He just stays, back against the counter, biting onto his lip until it hurts as Jimin drinks his coffee next to him. 

This is another first for them. Just co-existing in the same room like this, in silence. If Jungkook tried, he could pretend it’s a normal scene, just two roommates, two friends, slowly waking up next to each other over breakfast. 

Jimin talks first, of course. 

"I was thinking."

Jungkook looks at him from the corner of his eye. "Mm?"

"With everything that happened, we got distracted." He takes another sip of coffee. "We didn’t film our kiss." 

"Oh." He blinks. "Oh yeah." 

Jimin doesn’t say anything else. He just puts this out into the quiet morning and he’s letting it sit, letting Jungkook decide where to go next. 

Jungkook takes the joking way out. "So let’s cheat. Do two today." Jimin starts to smile, so Jungkook goes on, encouraged. "Maybe change our clothes in between."

Jimin smiles big, his eyes turning into cute little crescents. "What?" 

"Yeah!" Jungkook turns to him fully, arm behind him on the counter. "To make sure they won’t be able to tell. Oh, we should be in a different room, too, otherwise the lighting and stuff would be a dead giveaway."

"You’re just full of ideas, aren’t you?" Jimin brings his phone out of the sweatpants pocket. He steadies it on the side of the toaster quickly, makes sure Jungkook is in frame. "Let’s go, then." 

"Now?" Jungkook asks, eyes wide.

Jimin turns to him, licks his lips. "Yeah." He steps between Jungkook’s legs, way closer than any of their other filmed kisses.“You have somewhere else to be?” 

Jungkook shakes his head. 

“Now, then.” He puts his hands on the counter behind Jungkook, caging him in. 

Jungkook leans back a little, surprised.  "It wasn’t quite like this yesterday.” 

“Does it matter?” Jimin smiles. "If we’re cheating anyway." 

"We’re not cheating," Jungkook says, because it’s true, "we did kiss. We just didn’t—" 

Jimin presses their mouths together. Jungkook’s eyes slip shut. 

Yesterday’s kiss was born out of necessity, all kinds of awful tension in it—whatever enjoyment he’d gotten out of it was burned away as he felt Jimin shake against him. 

Alone in their kitchen on a quiet morning, tasting of coffee...that's something else entirely.

There’s no hesitation in it, no holding back. Jimin just dives into him and takes, and all Jungkook does is try to respond in kind.

Jimin pushes him backwards onto the counter and Jungkook gives easily, thumping against it. From the corner of his eye, he sees the phone slip down from where it’d been propped up.

Jimin doesn’t notice, too busy slipping a hand to Jungkook’s neck to pull him further down, keep him close. 

"Mm," he tries against his lips. "Jimin. Hyung." He drops a peck, then another, then another on Jimin’s mouth. "The phone." 

Jimin pulls away, blinking. "The…" He follows Jungkook’s eyes. "Oh." 

He brings his hands to his lips, ducking his head down a little. His hair tickles Jungkook’s nose. 

He picks up the phone, and Jungkook expects him to go sit on the table or head back to his room—they haven’t really lingered with each other after a kiss so far—but Jimin comes back. He settles between Jungkook’s legs and leans onto his chest, tilting the phone so they can both check on the video. 

They look good together. 

Jimin’s arching up towards him, Jungkook’s leaning down and engulfing him eagerly—it doesn’t look like something born out of a dare.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s burning with curiosity.

"What about the rest of them?" Jungkook asks, putting a hand on Jimin’s hip. 

Jimin swipes. There they are, all their kisses, one by one. 

It’s a revelation to Jungkook, just how right they look together.

He can’t stop looking at himself and the way his eyes follow Jimin, wide and dedicated. Is that how he’s always looked at him? In the first video, it’s the same. Unblinking, body turning towards him instinctively. 

No matter where they are, no matter how short the kisses are, they’re always charged with something, something that makes Jungkook warm under the collar and almost distracts him enough not to notice. 

But he does.

"Wait," Jungkook he says. That can’t be right, can it? He swipes and counts. Temple, hair, corner of the mouth, forehead, mouth again, wrist, lips. 

Jimin’s right there with him. "Seven."

Oh.

"We did it," Jungkook mutters. "All done." 

They stare at each other, the realisation settling between them. Jungkook wants to grip onto Jimin’s hip tighter, but he keeps himself still, still, still.

The first kiss is replaying endlessly in his mind. A clumsy shot of a rushed peck to the temple, barely visible and awkwardness just oozing through every second. 

That was just one week ago. 

Right now, Jimin’s back is pressed to Jungkook’s front, tucked in together against their counter. 

Jimin clears his throat. "I'll send Taehyung the video." He smiles, tight. "Thanks for helping out."

"Anytime," Jungkook mutters.

Jimin looks back at him like he wants to say something, but in the end he just says, "And it wasn’t for nothing, remember? I owe you." 

Jungkook nods. 

"You can collect whenever you like," he tells him, and then he disappears into the corridor. 

Jungkook slumps against the counter. 

Can a week really have gone by so quickly? Can it be finished already? 

Will everything go back to normal now? Now they don’t have a reason to speak to each other, nothing to bring them together every day, will they just slip back into just being in the same apartment, nothing real between them? 

Jungkook doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want that at all. 

He feels boneless, flying a little high on pleasure from the kiss and the drop of the end.