Work Text:
“Do you want to go shopping? I need a new pair of jeans. Didn't you mention you need a new beanie?”
It was an unexpected afternoon free. Dance practice was originally scheduled from 12 to 4, but a text message from Bang PD saying the choreography wasn't ready sent the members scrambling in different directions. Yoongi went to the studio, Hoseok headed to the dance space anyway, Namjoon decided on a nap, having been up late recording the night before, and Jimin and Taehyung chose to film an episode of their vlive series.
Jungkook was tying his tennis shoes to head to the gym when Jin came into his shared room with Namjoon and asked to go shopping. He could feel his back strain against the effort to even reach down to his shoelaces, the product of an overzealous workout the night before. Working out offered a much needed reprieve from the constant worry of scripts, tweets, choreography, and high notes. The gym was a space where the only thing Jungkook had to focus on was the burn in his muscles and the rep count. But he knew when to push and when to pull back. His back could use a day’s rest, and a relaxing shopping trip with his hyung sounded fun.
“Sure, hyung.”
-
Jin drove them over to the only mall in Seoul the members could safely shop at without being surrounded by fans. It was tucked in a secluded part of the city, and shopping in the middle of the afternoon reduced their chances of being seen even further.
Jin and Jungkook entered the huge sliding doors and walked the familiar path to their favorite store. They strolled leisurely, in no rush to return to their dorm and resume schedules for the evening.
“Jungkook-ah, aren't you excited we got the afternoon off?” Jin suddenly blurted, clear giddiness in his voice. Nothing brought out Jin’s more childish side than being with Jungkook. Jin grabbed the younger’s hand as he spoke, lacing their fingers together and swinging their hands wildly. Jungkook was suddenly grateful the mall was empty on a weekday afternoon as Jin made a clear scene in the middle of the walkway.
Jin’s hand felt warm in his own, slightly clammy from gripping the steering wheel on the drive over. Jin’s palm was marginally larger, and Jungkook’s hand threatened to fall out of his hyung’s grasp as Jin swung their arms violently about. Though the strain through his shoulder blades wasn't quite the same effect as lifting at the gym, his hand warm against Jin’s and Jin’s laughter in his ears were enough to force all stress from his mind. He let go of Jin’s hand abruptly and took off at a full sprint toward their favorite store, turning back only to yell,
“If you beat me there I'll buy you the jeans!”
***
“Jungkook if you sit next to me we can work on your lyrics,” Yoongi said in Jungkook’s direction as all of the members sat in the first class lounge at the airport.
“Okay,” Jungkook replied with half-awake attention. With any luck he could sleep the rest of the wait to board the plane and then he would hopefully be more alive to work on his song. Bang PD agreed to allow Jungkook to write the lyrics to the outro on the new album. He had a lot of ideas, but he confided in Yoongi last week that he felt like his lyrics were too cheesy, too plain. He wanted to write a ballad, but everything that came out of his mind sounded like lines in a poorly written drama. He closed his eyes again with the melody of his unwritten ballad playing in his head.
“Come on, Jungkookie, time to board.” Jungkook woke to Jimin gently shaking him awake. Everyone else was already lined up to get on the plane, Yoongi last in line and shooting nervous glances over his shoulder to make sure Jimin successfully retrieved Jungkook from the lounge.
He could still feel his exhaustion in every inch of his body, but he hurled himself up off the couch anyway. He focused on putting one foot in front of the other, using Yoongi’s masked figure as a goal to keep walking. When he reached his hyung he propped his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder and rested his head against Yoongi’s hat. Jungkook knew Yoongi would let him get away with this affection when he was this tired.
“You know, Jungkookie, I am the exact same height as Yoongi hyung. My shoulder would feel just as nice his,” Jimin practically sang from behind him.
“Park Jimin shush.” Jungkook had to physically swallow the giggle that threatened to erupt from his throat.
-
After what felt like an endless wait to board the plane, Jungkook was tucked into the window seat with Yoongi beside him, notebook out and shared headphones between them. Although their flight would take several hours, Yoongi wasted no time getting started working with the lyrics.
Yoongi asked him various questions to help get a better sense of where Jungkook wanted to go with the lyrical content. Who is the speaker? What have they experienced? What is the overall message you want the listener to receive? Why don’t we work backwards from there? Yoongi was writing down the answer to one of his many questions when Jungkook suddenly had a breakthrough in his thinking.
“Hyung!” he said excitedly, reaching out to stop Yoongi from writing in his notebook. When his hand made contact with Yoongi’s, he momentarily forgot about his lyrics and thought only of Yoongi’s skin.
“Whoa, your hands are freezing, hyung,” Jungkook said, actually picking Yoongi’s hand up, removing the pen from his grasp, and enclosing his hand with both of his own. He started to rub Yoongi’s hand between his palms, chanting “warm, warm, warm, warm.”
“Better?” he asked, checking for himself by lacing Yoongi’s fingers with his own. Yoongi stared at their joined hands for a few seconds, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion as if he didn’t understand how they got here, but he didn’t protest.
Jungkook remembered his lyrical epiphany once more and began to sing a few lines of the newly constructed chorus quietly to his hyung. When Jungkook finished Yoongi squeezed his hand and smiled.
“Good, Jungkook-ah.”
***
Their concert was set to begin in just 20 minutes. This was about the time Hoseok, without fail, started to let his nerves get the best of him. They all got nervous before performing; it was only to be expected. But Hobi tended to be at a resting level of nerves all the time, and performances caused his already anxious tendencies to spike. He would shake, physically tremble, in the dressing room.
Jungkook saw his hyung sit down in a chair facing one of the very large mirrors their stylists used to get them ready. He had his headphones in, but his eyes were pointed straight ahead staring at his reflection. Jungkook walked over and planted his own chair next to Hoseok’s.
He decided to comfort Hobi in the only way he really knew how. Jungkook grabbed Hoseok’s hand, his fingers physically trembling, and he held it in his own. Hoseok looked over confused, but didn’t remove his headphones or retract his hand from Jungkook’s grasp. He gave his hyung a small, shy smile and moved his grip so that his fingers interlaced with Hoseok’s. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hobi close his eyes and let out a long, shaky breath. Jungkook squeezed his hand lightly, silently attempting to tell him it’s okay. He’ll do great just like always. When someone is nervous it isn’t really any use to say those things out loud, Jungkook knew that, but perhaps the pressure of his hand could stop the trembling, trick Hoseok’s mind into thinking he felt more relaxed if his body would just still.
They stayed like that--sitting side by side holding hands, Hoseok listening to music with his eyes closed--until it was time for their preshow huddle. When Namjoon called them over Jungkook carefully removed Hoseok’s right earbud and gently told him it was time to go. Hobi looked at him with gratitude in his eyes.
“Thank you for that, Jungkook,” he said, no trace of a shake in his voice. Jungkook simply looked down at the floor in embarrassment.
When they reached the huddle the other members had already gathered round and left a two-person sized space open for them. Everyone already had their two fingers stacked in the middle of the circle. Hoseok joined, putting his right hand on top of Taehyung’s. Jungkook stacked his left hand on top of Hobi’s and gently grabbed for Hoseok’s spare hand with his right. He laced their fingers together once more and squeezed. Jungkook looked over out of the corner of his eye and saw the smallest smile on Hoseok’s face.
“Ready?” Namjoon asked.
Jungkook looked at Hoseok’s eyes, no longer widened with fear, squeezed his hand, and said, “Ready.”
***
“Okay, let’s record your vocals one more time,” Namjoon suggested, a clear attempt at a positive tone present in his voice.
They’d been working on this new cover for the past three hours. First they had to get the english pronunciation just right, then they had to figure out which verses fit either of them the most, and finally they were working on getting the recording perfect. Jungkook and Namjoon tended to work really well together, but they were both perfectionists which led to long nights and endless tweaking.
The song fit Jungkook’s voice quite well except for one run near the end of the song. It wasn’t impossible, but the maneuver wasn’t something his voice was exactly used to doing in bangtan’s songs.
“Okay, hold on, let me try a few more times before you hit record,” Jungkook said, a look of determination steeling over his face.
He started at the top of the verse, his voice floating nicely above the familiar refrain. When he got to the run he focused on getting every note from the top of the range to the bottom. He sang it at half speed the first time to ensure his pitch was perfect. When Jungkook finished, he opened his eyes and looked over at Namjoon who had a smile on his face.
“Yes, that sounds exactly right. Can you do that at full speed?” he asked without any doubt detectable in his tone.
“We’ll see.” Jungkook said modestly, afraid to sounds confident lest his voice betray him.
He tried again, this time keeping with the original rhythm of the verse. Jungkook closed his eyes, actually pictured his voice sliding over each note in the run, imagined his voice as water droplets sliding down this scale of notes. When the last droplet fell over the final note he slowly opened his eyes and said, “I think I got it. Hit record.”
“I just did,” Namjoon responded, pointing toward the computer monitor, which clearly showed the file in their recording program. “I knew you could do it. I could see the focus on your face,” Namjoon said, a huge smile breaking out over his features. Jungkook felt a mix of both pride and embarrassment well inside of him at the same time.
“Well, let’s listen to it back. I feel like my voice sounds different when I know I’m being recorded. It might not fit with the rest of what we already have,” Jungkook warned, ever meticulous in their decisions even if this was just a cover.
Namjoon hit play from the beginning and the studio filled with their voices. Jungkook held his breath as the run approached. He closed his eyes once more, wanting to fully focus on whether or not this recording would work. When the track ended he let out his breath, completely satisfied with the vocals. The song sounded perfect; Namjoon was right to hit record on that run through.
He looked over at his leader, and Namjoon’s grin was contagious. Jungkook felt a toothy smile break out over his own face as Namjoon held up his hand for a victorious high five. Jungkook moved over the reciprocate and when their hands made contact he didn’t pull back but rather laced their fingers together and pulled their intertwined hands down by their sides. Considering the awkward angle, Jungkook smoothly replaced his right hand with his left and said, “Let’s go get a late dinner to celebrate.”
He held Namjoon’s hand all the way to the corner convenience store.
***
At the end of a busy week Jimin and Jungkook decided to treat themselves to a movie. Rarely did any of the members relax, even when they had official time off, because of what they all referred to as idols’ guilt. Any time not spent rehearsing, practicing, or training was time completely wasted, even if the company specifically asked you to take time off. But they were so exhausted from a ten hour dance practice neither Jimin nor Jungkook could physically do anything other than sit on the couch on a Friday night.
“What do you want to watch,” Jungkook asked, politely relegating the decision making to the older.
“I don’t caaaaare, Jungkookie. You choose.” Jungkook wasn’t exactly expecting that response considering how much Jimin loved when Jungkook treated him like a hyung. He thought Jimin really must have been exhausted to let this opportunity slip away.
“What about comedy?” Jungkook offered, picking up the first DVD he laid his eyes on. The likelihood he could keep his eyes open for the entirely of any feature length film was next to zero in his current state, and he didn’t want to waste too much time on the actual decision of what to watch.
“Good, fine, put it in,” Jimin said seemingly on the same page.
Jungkook loaded the DVD player and hopped back on the couch. He sat with his legs crossed in the middle of the cushions while Jimin sat with his legs tucked under himself in the corner. They passed a shared bowl of popcorn between them, too tired to talk themselves out of the butter and salt.
Jungkook knew on some level this movie was more stupid than it was funny, but he found himself laughing aloud anyway. He felt the tension release from his muscles with each chuckle. He threw his head back to laugh on a particularly good joke and instinctively reached into the popcorn bowl to fill his open mouth with the warm snack, but instead of hitting popped kernels he felt Park Jimin’s hand.
Jungkook had always known Jimin’s hands were tiny. He’d known since the first week of meeting him when they were trainees. It must have been the exhaustion mixed with the giddiness of the movie that almost made him feel drunk; he was suddenly amazed at just how small Jimin’s hands were.
“Hyung, how do you manage to pick things up with those hands of yours?”
“What? Jeon Jungkook that’s rude. I can pick things up just fine. I could pick you up!” Jimin retorted, clear indignation in his voice.
“I’m just saying I don’t think you could pick up a basketball with one hand,” Jungkook said as he grabbed Jimin’s wrist and began expecting his hand up close. Before Jimin could pull away Jungkook held up his hand to the older’s, measuring the difference in size. Jungkook couldn’t help it: he actually snickered out loud when he saw how comically small Jimin’s hands looked next to his own.
“Hey, shut up,” Jimin said and yanked his arm back away from Jungkook. He should know better, he really should. Jimin was, despite all of his confidence on stage, an extremely self doubting person. Jungkook immediately felt bad for making him feel self conscious and reached over to grab his hand back. Jimin instinctively resisted.
“Just stop for a second!” Jungkook said, just wanting to make him feel better. Jimin trusted Jungkook’s words enough to give his arm back to the younger.
“You know what I like most about your hands, hyung?”
“What?” Jimin said, eyeing Jungkook’s movements carefully, ready to snap his arm back at a moment’s notice. Jungkook simply interlocked their hands. Their fingers were slightly sticky from the butter, both rough from the gruelling dance practice.
“They feel nice in mine,” Jungkook replied honestly. There was something about holding a hand so much tinier than his that felt amazing. No other member’s hands were smaller than his. He always insignificant in everyone else’s palm, but with Jimin his hands felt heavier, somehow more capable.
He didn’t let go of Jimin’s hand until the movie was over.
***
Jungkook was halfway to sleep when he felt the edge of his bed dip down.
“Tae, what are you doing?” Jungkook said without even opening his eyes. There was only one person who lived in this dorm who had a distinct habit of sneaking into his bed in the middle of the night and that was Kim Taehyung.
“I can’t sleep,” Tae whispered, his voice stripped of the usual playfulness. He sounded worried. Being unable to sleep was terrifying as an idol. You had maybe one third of the recommended sleeping hours each night and every minute wasted trying to fall asleep pushed you further away from being able to function in the next day’s activities. And there were always activities.
Jungkook knew Taehyung slept most easily when he had something, someone, to cuddle next to. It usually only took Jungkook’s body heat to lull Tae to sleep.
“Hm,” Jungkook grunted in response with eyes still closed. There was enough room for Tae on the other side of the bed, and Jungkook was close enough to falling asleep in his current position that he wasn’t going to risk moving. Tae didn’t seem to mind. He crawled down into the blankets and unceremoniously slung his body over Jungkook’s. His leg was laid over both of Jungkook’s own and his arm was pressed over Jungkook’s chest. Tae snuggled his face up right into his neck and let out a contented sigh. Before Jungkook even had time to contemplate whether he felt overheated with Taehyung’s sudden invasion, he heard Tae’s breathing even out. A mere three seconds cuddled into Jungkook’s side and Tae was plum asleep.
He unconsciously timed his own breathing to Tae’s and found himself slipping fully into sleep within minutes.
-
Jungkook woke up at 5:30am, an entire hour before his alarm would go off. He peeled open his eyes and was immediately reminded of the Taehyung-sized human currently sharing his bed. In the hopes that his body would allow him to fall back asleep, he didn’t move at all, merely took note of his position in the bed. During the night Jungkook stayed on his back while Taehyung untangled himself from Jungkook’s body and eventually moved to his back as well.
For the first time ever since Tae started this bed sneaking habit Jungkook awoke to find that his hand intertwined with Tae’s, their fingers locked.
His stomach flipped without his permission. Jungkook had never held Tae’s hand before. Honestly they touched so often--a hand on the shoulder, on the back of the neck, on the lower back--that Jungkook didn’t even think about holding his hand. He was close with Tae in other ways. But here, this felt different. He felt warm all over even though Tae’s body heat was no longer suffocating him. Even though Tae was asleep, and his grip should have been slack with relaxation, their palms were firmly pressed together. Jungkook felt like his entire hand was on fire, electric currents running through every point at which their skin made contact.
If Taehyung woke up to their fingers intertwined what would he think? Was this too much? He’d only been aware of this new development for a couple of minutes, but Jungkook couldn’t even remember what it felt like not to have Tae’s palm in his own. He felt like he needed that warmth, that reassurance next to him all the time.
“Jungkook, go back to sleep,” he suddenly heard Tae whisper. Jungkook snapped his head towards the other side of the bed, enough early dawn light streaming in through the window to see that Tae was turned towards him also. He felt Tae squeeze his hand and begin to rub soothing circles with his thumb.
Tae scooted closer, once again burying his face in Jungkook’s neck, slinging his limbs across Jungkook’s body. He didn’t unlace their hands, though. And before he settled completely into Jungkook’s side, Tae raised their clasped hands and brought Jungkook’s knuckles to his lips. He kissed each one lightly, leaving heat on Jungkook’s skin at each place his lips made contact. Without a word, he lowed their hands back down in between their huddled bodies.
“Let’s get a little more rest, Jungkook-ah.”
-
Taehyung woke him up at 6:30 by once again peppering his hand--still locked with Tae’s--with small kisses.
“Jungkook-ah.” He brushed his lips against knuckle number one. “Jungkook-ah wake up.” He moved to his second knuckle, his lips never breaking contact with Jungkook’s skin. “Jungkookie we have early dance practice” Tae scraped his teeth across knuckle number three and it took everything in Jungkook not to open his eyes and end this new waking up ritual. “Love, wake up” Tae said finally, kissing his fourth knuckle three times in quick succession. Tae looked up to his face.
“I can tell you’re awake you absolute faker!”
***