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Jeon Jungkook had survived a lot of things in his twenty-something years of life.
He had survived debut stages, live microphones, airport mobs, his own clumsiness, and one truly traumatic incident involving a treadmill and an iced Americano. He had even survived being best friends with Kim Seokjin, which was a full-time endurance sport on its own.
What he had not survived, what he was currently in the middle of not surviving, was being seated next to Kim Seokjin at a wedding where the bride and groom had been aggressively trying to set them up for three years.
And now there was a kiss cam.
“Relax,” Seokjin said, sipping his champagne like he wasn’t an agent of chaos disguised as a man. “It’s just a kiss cam. They won’t put us on.”
Jungkook stared at him. “You jinxed it.”
“I did not.”
“You said it out loud.”
Across the ballroom, the DJ’s voice boomed cheerfully. “Alright everyone, let’s see some love in the room!”
The giant LED screen flickered to life.
Jungkook felt his soul begin to leave his body.
The camera panned over a giggling straight couple who immediately went feral and made out like they were being paid per tongue contact. The crowd cheered.
Next was an older married couple who gave each other a sweet peck, to a collective “awww.”
Then two bridesmaids who screamed, waved, and kissed each other on the cheek dramatically.
Jungkook slowly slid down in his chair.
“Why are you hiding?” Seokjin asked, amused. “You look like you’re about to crawl under the table.”
“I am about to crawl under the table.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
The camera moved again.
The bride—Ji-Eun, traitor, enemy of the state—was visible near the dance floor, grinning like she knew something. The groom, Lee jong suk, gave Seokjin a thumbs up.
Seokjin frowned. “Why is Jong Suk looking at me like that?”
“Oh my god,” Jungkook whispered. “Oh my god, they’re going to do it.”
“Do what?”
Before Jungkook could answer, the screen abruptly filled with their faces.
Kim Seokjin. Jeon Jungkook.
Side by side. Unmistakable. In HD.
The room exploded.
People screamed. People clapped. Someone wolf-whistled. Jungkook was pretty sure he heard a distant “KISS! KISS! KISS!”
Jungkook’s brain blue-screened.
“Oh,” Seokjin said intelligently.
The DJ laughed. “Looks like we’ve got a surprise couple!”
“We’re not a couple!” Jungkook yelped, way too loudly.
Seokjin, traitor number two, waved at the camera.
“Hyung!” Jungkook hissed. “Why are you waving?!”
“I panicked!”
The chant started immediately.
“KISS! KISS! KISS!”
Jungkook could feel his ears burning. He glanced at Seokjin, ready to suggest faking a high-five or pretending to choke on champagne—anything.
Instead, Seokjin was… smiling.
Not his usual confident, teasing grin.
Something softer. Something nervous.
“Jungkook,” Seokjin said quietly, leaning closer so only he could hear. “We can just… not. It’s fine.”
The chant got louder.
Jungkook swallowed.
Because here was the thing. The very inconvenient, deeply annoying, life-ruining thing.
He had thought about kissing Kim Seokjin before.
A lot.
In moments he blamed on sleep deprivation. Or alcohol. Or Seokjin looking unfairly good in sweaters. Or Seokjin laughing and leaning into him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He had thought about it and then shoved it into the mental drawer labeled DO NOT OPEN UNLESS YOU WANT TO DIE.
And now there were 300 people yelling at him to open it.
Jungkook looked at the bride again.
Jisoo mouthed: Do it.
Traitor.
He looked back at Seokjin.
“Hyung,” Jungkook whispered, voice barely audible over the noise. “If we do this… everything changes.”
Seokjin met his eyes. For once, he didn’t joke.
“I know.”
The chant hit a fever pitch.
Seokjin shrugged, a little helplessly. “We could blame the champagne.”
Jungkook exhaled a shaky laugh.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”
Seokjin blinked. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Like… okay okay?”
“Yes,” Jungkook snapped. “Before I lose my nerve.”
Seokjin didn’t move right away.
Then he gently cupped Jungkook’s face, thumb warm against his cheek, and Jungkook forgot how to breathe.
The room seemed to fade out.
When Seokjin kissed him, it was soft. Careful. A question more than a statement.
Jungkook answered it by kissing him back.
The crowd went insane.
Jungkook vaguely registered cheering, clapping, someone yelling “I KNEW IT,” but all he could focus on was the fact that Kim Seokjin’s lips were warm and real and exactly where Jungkook had secretly wanted them for far too long.
When they pulled apart, Jungkook was dizzy.
Seokjin looked just as stunned.
They stared at each other.
“…Wow,” Seokjin said.
Jungkook laughed hysterically.
The DJ screamed, “BEST KISS OF THE NIGHT!”
Jungkook immediately dropped his face into his hands.
“I’m never leaving my house again.”
The aftermath was worse.
So much worse.
They didn’t even make it five minutes before the bride tackled them.
“I CALLED IT,” Ji-Eun screamed. “I TOLD YOU.”
“You ambushed us,” Jungkook accused.
“You kissed him willingly.”
“UNDER DURESS.”
lee jong suk slung an arm around Seokjin. “So when were you gonna tell us?”
“Tell you what?” Seokjin asked weakly.
“That you’re in love,” Minho said.
“We’re not—” Jungkook started.
Seokjin coughed. “—dating.”
Ji-Eun squinted at them. “Yet.”
Jungkook groaned.
They escaped to the balcony shortly after, both desperately needing air and approximately twelve fewer witnesses.
The city lights glittered below them. Music thumped faintly through the glass doors.
Neither of them spoke.
“So,” Jungkook said eventually. “That happened.”
Seokjin nodded. “That definitely happened.”
Silence again.
Jungkook fidgeted with his sleeve. “I’m sorry if that was weird.”
Seokjin turned to him. “It wasn’t.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No,” Seokjin said softly. “I’ve been wanting to do that.”
Jungkook froze.
“…Since when?”
Seokjin shrugged. “Since you started stealing my hoodies and pretending you weren’t.”
“That was one time.”
“Liar.”
Jungkook smiled despite himself. “I thought I was alone.”
Seokjin laughed quietly. “We’re idiots.”
“Yes,” Jungkook agreed. “But… what now?”
Seokjin looked at him carefully. “Do you want to go on a real date? One without 300 people screaming?”
Jungkook didn’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
Seokjin grinned, radiant and smug. “Good. Because I already told Ji-Eun we’re leaving together.”
“What?!”
“She booked us a cab.”
“I hate her.”
“You love her.”
“I do,” Jungkook sighed.
Seokjin held out his hand.
Jungkook took it.
Three weeks later, a reel went viral.
“KISS CAM TURNS BEST FRIENDS INTO SOULMATES???”
Jungkook watched it from Seokjin’s couch, face buried in a pillow.
“I can’t believe this exists,” he groaned.
Seokjin laughed, arm draped comfortably around him. “You look cute.”
“I look mortified.”
“You kissed me.”
“In front of the entire internet.”
“And you’d do it again,” Seokjin teased.
Jungkook peeked up at him.
“…Yeah.”
Seokjin kissed him again—no camera, no crowd, just them.
Somewhere, Ji-Eun absolutely took credit for everything.