Work Text:
Yoongi liked his job. He loved music, he loved writing songs and he loved producing music. Most of his coworkers were nice, and he got to work with some of his closest friends. As a respected song writer and music producer, his company allowed him to work from home a lot, knowing that he worked best that way and trusting him to do so. Yoongi was happy that he got to work from home so much; being a 36 year old single dad, he enjoyed the extra time he had with his son. None of them really had anyone else.
But his job also required that Yoongi sometimes had to sit through long, stressful meetings. Luckily he didn’t have to endure those often, but when you’d been in a meeting all day, that wasn’t much of a consolation. After surviving a six hour meeting – Yoongi still didn’t know why they were so long, half of the information was irrelevant anyway – he was finally allowed to leave. It was a Tuesday in the middle of fall, dry and clear as it tended to be in Korea that time of year, but a bit colder. Yoongi took a train and two buses to get home, staring out of the window, too tired to look at his phone or a newspaper. The walk from the bus stop was almost too much.
Yoongi got home at around five o’clock. When he entered the small suburban house he shared with his 18 year old son, Jihoon, he mostly wanted to just go to bed, but he had more work to do and then he had to make dinner. He took off his scarf and jacket with sloppy movements, not noticing the extra jackets on the hanger or the discarded shoes against the wall. It wasn’t until he entered the living room that he realized he and Jihoon weren’t the only people in the house. By the couch Jihoon sat with four other people, crouched in front of the little table that was currently stuffed with books.
The sight triggered his memory, and he vaguely recalled a conversation with Jihoon he’d had the day prior:
Yoongi had been in the midst of cooking dinner when Jihoon sat on the counter beside him, swinging his feet in the air.Yoongi smiled at his son in greeting, before returning to the Galbijjim cooking on the stove.
“Have you gotten a lot of work done?” asked Jihoon.
Yoongi glanced at him, wondering what that was about. Even though he was close to his son, Jihoon didn’t usually ask him about his work unless they were eating dinner or driving in the car together.
“Yes. I’m almost done with the track I’m working on, actually. It’s gotten pretty good.”
Jihoon smiled. “That’s good.” He cleared his throat. “So, dad…” Yoongi raised an eyebrow, urging him to go on, before turning back to the Galbijjim, adding the carrots in Ganjang sauce. “In my music class we’ve been assigned a project. We have to analyze song lyrics and write some ourselves. It doesn’t really influence our grade. It’s more so that we know what it’s like; you know. Future projects that actually counts. It’s a group project. I was wondering if my group could meet up here? First time is tomorrow after school.”
Yoongi hummed. “Sure. I don’t see why not.” He added the ginkgo nuts before his son could eat them, too. “Do you work well with your group?”
“Yeah, they’re not bad. I don’t know them well, but we seem to be working well together, so far. The others’ are quite talented writers, actually,” Jihoon said. Jihoon, being Yoongi’s son, definitely wasn’t bad at writing song lyrics, or producing music in general; it was Yoongi’s passion, so it had basically been part of Jihoon’s upbringing. Jihoon didn’t say anything for a while, seemingly lost in thought. Then he snickered. “Jungkook-hyung is terrible at math, though. I don’t know how he even got into college.”
Yoongi shook his head with a smile. “Be nice, Jihoon.”
“I am! I’m just pointing out the obvious truth.” He exclaimed as he stole some pine nuts Yoongi hadn’t put in the pot yet, chewing noisily.
“Do you even use math?”
Jihoon shrugged. “No, not really.” Jihoon had then moved on to tell Yoongi more about what they did do in his different classes.
Till this moment Yoongi had honestly completely forgotten about the study group. Part of him really wasn’t in the mood for guests, but he had agreed, and of course they weren’t his guests; his son was old enough to take care of his own guests. Yoongi, figuring he should still be polite, sent the four others a smile in greeting (okay, so at least a little polite), before looking back at Jihoon. “I’ll just be in my studio working, okay?”
Jihoon nodded. Then one of the others stole his attention with a question, presumably about a lyric. Yoongi took that as his cue to leave, scurrying off to his studio.
He didn’t notice the pair of eyes following him as he left.
-
Despite being tired, Yoongi got a lot of work done. He had a few songs for different artists assigned that he had to finish that week; he’d initially been a bit stressed, but now it seemed like he could probably manage it. From his studio, he could hear the quiet chatter down the hall, occasional laughter, but it wasn’t disturbing; nice actually, somehow. Like a weird version of background music. Also, he’d had a kid for too long to be bothered by slight noise when he was working.
Yoongi had been 16 when Jihoon’s mom, Haeun, got pregnant. Yoongi had been in love, but far from ready to be a dad. Haeun, 17 years old, had been on the same page, but they decided to have the child anyway. Aside from the obstacles, including missing support from their parents, they had been fine for about five years. Then Haeun had started acting distant. In the end she had moved to America, trying to pursue an acting career, leaving Yoongi with Jihoon. At first Yoongi had been heartbroken, sad and frustrated, not sure how he would handle raising a child on his own, but he had managed. Haeun was happy, having scored quite a few good jobs, coming home sometimes to say hello to both Yoongi and Jihoon.
Yoongi had mostly forgiven her – it was difficult not to notice how much happier she was now – but Jihoon was still hurt because of Haeun’s abandonment. Yoongi understood this, and Haeun did too, but Yoongi could tell that Haeun was still sad about it. Sometimes Yoongi wondered if it would have been better if they had never had a child together, if they had chosen differently. Yoongi, now though, was happy about his decision. He couldn’t imagine his life without Jihoon in it, but it had definitely been tough at times.
Suddenly the door opened, pulling Yoongi out of his thoughts. He’d been working for about an hour, so he figured the study group was over by now. But looking up he didn’t see Jihoon. It was – who Yoongi guessed to be – one of the students in Jihoon’s study group; he hadn’t really been paying close attention to the individual people before. The boy looked mildly surprised upon having stumbled into Yoongi’s studio.
“Oh! I’m sorry. I thought this was the bathroom,” he said with an apologetic smile.
“It’s okay. It’s the door just across from here.”
“I thought Jihoon said on the left… Well, he did seem rather distracted.”
Yoongi expected the boy to leave again, but he didn’t; he lingered by the door, looking almost intensely at Yoongi. Yoongi cleared his throat uncomfortably under the gaze. The boy seemed to notice that he’d been staring. He blinked out of it, but didn’t look away – he just smiled lazily.
“You said you were working. Am I disturbing?”
“Not really…” admitted Yoongi. He had been working, but then he’d been lost in thought. And honestly, he was almost done with work for today anyway (he could manage his own hours, after all, and he’d gotten better at not over-working himself over the years. Being a dad definitely helped him in that area).
“What do you do?” the other asked curiously, leaning against the doorframe as if this was going to be a longer conversation. To Yoongi it seemed almost as if Jungkook didn’t really want to leave, but Yoongi couldn’t imagine why someone would find it interesting to talk to him, single dad, going on 40. Yoongi leaned back in his chair, slightly resignedly.
“I’m a music producer. And song writer.”
The boy straightened up, interest apparent on his face. “Really? That’s so-“
“Jungkook-hyung!” Jihoon yelled from the living room. Yoongi thought he’d hurt the name before. Jihoon must have mentioned him, Yoongi thought. “Did you find the bathroom?”
“Uh, yes I did!” the boy – Jungkook – yelled back. He sent another apologetic – and Yoongi had to admit, quite cute – smile Yoongi’s way. “I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you,” he said before closing the door to Yoongi’s studio.
“…You too,” Yoongi told the door.
-
Dinner was more quiet than usual, both Yoongi and Jihoon exhausted after a long day of meetings, school and socializing. Although the rice was a bit overdone, the food was good, and Yoongi was eating it slowly, savoring the taste and warmth it provided. One of the songs he was working on was stuck in his head; he concentrated on not humming it out loud. Jihoon loved music as much as Yoongi did, but he didn’t like to listen to music when he ate.
“I’m sorry,” Jihoon said all of a sudden.
Yoongi looked up in surprise. “What are you sorry about?”
“I’m sorry about my classmates being here.”
“Why are you sorry about that? I agreed to them being here, didn’t I?”
Jihoon sighed. “Yeah, but I could tell that you were really tired. Did you have a rough day at work?”
Yoongi hummed in confirmation. “But that’s not your fault. I knew I had a meeting today. I could have just said no to them coming in the first place.” Yoongi didn’t mention that he had forgotten about the meeting until he looked at his schedule last night, too. “Besides, they weren’t a hindrance. I didn’t mind them being here. You’re welcome to invite them over again, if you want.”
“Are you sure?”
“Would I say it if I wasn’t?”
I probably would, was what Yoongi thought.
“I guess not,” was what Jihoon said.
-
A few weeks later at midday on Thursday Yoongi found himself in a local supermarket. It was around lunch time, so there weren’t many people in the supermarket, mostly just high school students from a local school buying candy, chips and soda. Yoongi had chosen the time precisely for that reason, not wanting to get stuck in an hour-long queue. He could still let the students go before him in the queue, though, not minding that he had to wait a few more minutes. He wasn’t in a hurry; Jihoon was at his university, so Yoongi would be coming home to an empty house anyway.
Yoongi was mindlessly piling his groceries onto the check-out, his mind elsewhere. Hoseok had once again set Yoongi up on a blind date, this time with a woman named Minsuh. Yoongi was supposed to meet up with her at a fancy restaurant on Friday.
Hoseok setting Yoongi up with random women definitely wasn’t new; he’d been doing it for years. Hoseok was certain Yoongi needed to ‘move on’ from Haeun, and blind dates were apparently the best way to go about it. Yoongi had tried to tell Hoseok that he was well over Haeun, but Hoseok wouldn’t listen. Yoongi honestly didn’t mind the dates too much; he had an excuse to eat at good restaurant, and he even had (usually pleasant) company to do so with. However, despite gaining a few friends over the years, Yoongi didn’t really have any romantic interest in any of those women.
Yoongi was almost done with piling up the groceries when someone interrupted his chain of thought.
“Min Yoongi-ssi!” exclaimed someone who just came up to stand beside him, setting their shopping basket beside the check-out. Yoongi jerked a bit, not expecting someone to talk to him. Looking to the side he recognized the young boy as one of the students in Jihoon’s study group; the boy who came into his studio, to be more precise. Yoongi wasn’t entirely sure how the other knew his name.
“Jungkook, right?” Yoongi inquired politely.
The other nodded, a big smile on his face, and started to put on his own groceries.
“Do you want some help with that?”
“No, that’s quite alright.”
Yoongi hummed. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”
Jungkook smirked at him. “I don’t have any lectures today.”
Yoongi supposed Jungkook didn’t have all the same classes as Jihoon, then. “Lucky.”
“Mh.”
The person in front of Yoongi in queue finished paying and left the check-out. Yoongi smiled at the person behind the counter in greeting. They smiled back as they scanned in the last items and Yoongi quickly paid; the queue had gotten surprisingly long. He put the groceries in plastic bags he’d brought while Jungkook paid for his own items. Jungkook didn’t have as many things as Yoongi did; he only had to feed one person, Yoongi supposed.
They ended up walking towards the exit together, but when Yoongi got halfway through the shop he noticed that one of his bags was missing.
“Shoot! I forgot-“
“I got it, don’t worry,” Jungkook said quickly and half ran back to the counter to take Yoongi’s missing bag.
When Jungkook reached Yoongi, Yoongi tried to take back the plastic bag. Jungkook shook his head.
“It’s okay, you already have three. Besides, I work out a lot, so it’s no problem.”
Yoongi figured he imagined the flirting tone in Jungkook’s voice. “But I have to go home with it,” Yoongi reasoned as they finally left the supermarket.
“You live that way, right?” asked Jungkook and did a motion with his head in the direction of Yoongi’s house. Yoongi nodded. “I live close-by, so I can follow you some of the way,” he said as he began to walk down the street with Yoongi on his heels, slowly catching up.
“All right. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
They walked a bit in silence before Yoongi spoke up again. The road they were walking on was quiet and peaceful, only a few people out and about, a kid cycling in the middle of the street, probably used to the street being mostly free from cars.
Within the last few weeks Yoongi had seen Jungkook a few times, mostly in passing. Jungkook seemed like a nice kid, a little older than the other students in Jihoon’s study group, not quite fitting in. Maybe that was why he kept seeking out Yoongi; making sure to greet him, smiling at him every time he entered the room. Despite this Yoongi didn’t really know much about the younger, but somehow he was curious to know more.
“You’re from Busan?” Yoongi asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
Jungkook smiled sheepishly upon hearing Yoongi’s words. “It’s the accent, right?”
“Yes. When did you come to Seoul?”
“I just moved here, actually. I had to start college, so I found an apartment close-by.”
“You seem older than your other classmates?”
“I’m almost 22. My parents wanted me to start college immediately after high school, of course, but I enrolled in the military instead. I enrolled when I was 19.”
“That’s quite young.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook shrugged. “I wanted to get it over with.”
Yoongi stole a few glances at the other while they walked. Jungkook was about five centimeters taller than Yoongi himself and had natural black hair, his bangs a bit fluffy and parted to reveal his forehead. Somehow he looked a bit like a bunny – Yoongi blamed his teeth – which, together with his big doe eyes, made him look more innocent than he probably was. The boy was attractive Yoongi had to admit, if the fact that he couldn’t quite take his eyes off of him was anything to go by. Very young, though, Yoongi scolded himself.
“What about you?” Jungkook asked, again jerking Yoongi out of his thoughts. “Have you always lived in Seoul?”
“No, I’m originally from Daegu.”
“Oh, really? One of my friends is from Daegu.”
Yoongi hummed again, not entirely sure how to respond.
“So you’re a music producer, right?” asked Jungkook. He seemed quite interested in the subject – which wasn’t particular surprising, he was a music major in college after all – so Yoongi told Jungkook about his job, what he did and what it was like. Some of the people he’d met and worked for. In turn Jungkook told him about his studies. Yoongi found himself surprisingly engaged in the conversation, the walk seeming shorter than it usually did. For once in his life, Yoongi was grateful that the walk back home was so long, barely noticing the added weight from his groceries. And if he walked a bit slower the closer they got to his house, no-one had to know. Jungkook didn’t object, even with his long legs.
-
“This is me,” Yoongi said as they came to a halt in front of his house. Jihoon didn’t appear to be home yet.
“Yeah, I know,” Jungkook said, sounding almost… disappointed?
“You didn’t have to go all the way over here,” Yoongi said, uncomfortably moving his weight from one foot to another, suddenly not sure how to act. Looking at Jungkook it was obvious he was much younger than Yoongi, a different place in his life, but it also made it so much harder for Yoongi to suppress his attraction for him, when everything he could think was I want to know if his hair is as soft as it looks.
“It was no problem,” Jungkook said. “Really.”
Yoongi smiled, but it was forced, not quite reaching his eyes, as he received his last bag of groceries. Yoongi didn’t watch Jungkook walk away, but he wanted to.
-
Minsuh was beautiful, funny and kind, and as per usual, Yoongi didn’t feel a thing.
Approximately 32 hours after buying groceries Yoongi was walking around in a lit park. His stomach was full and he’d had quite a nice evening with excellent food, pleasant company and interesting conversation. Minsuh, despite looking way too much like Haeun – Yoongi thought Hoseok was trying to get him to move on from Haeun? – was a lovely woman. After the initial awkwardness of meeting someone for the first time, to go on a date nonetheless, spending his evening with her had been rather enjoyable.
But something was missing. He didn’t feel any sparks, didn’t really care to see her again. If he was being honest he would rather have been at home, watching TV while falling asleep on the couch. It was always like this, forced. He once read that if you were looking for love, you wouldn’t find it. But Yoongi wasn’t even looking for it; quite frankly he hadn’t gone on a date with the intention of a second date in a long time. He didn’t think he would have any interest in the women he was going on a date with, and he was usually right.
During the date he’d been polite, made small talk, tried to be interested. But he wasn’t. His mind kept going somewhere else; work, Jihoon, furniture in the house that needed to be repaired. Jungkook.
Yoongi had tried hard not to think about Jungkook. One thing was being attracted to him, it wasn’t like it was illegal. Jungkook might look innocent at times, but he was a grown man. But, Yoongi reminded himself, he was a young man, only a few years older than Jihoon. Getting feelings for him was a bad idea, and Yoongi was definitely fighting it (Yoongi was aware, deep down, that the moment he tried fighting it, the moment he even had to fight it at all, was the moment he’d already lost).
-
The next time Jihoon met with his group to work on their project was the Tuesday after Yoongi’s date with Minsuh. Yoongi was working again, but he could hear the students arriving one by one from his studio. He recognized Jungkook’s voice as the third to arrive, standing out painfully to Yoongi.
Yoongi tried to ignore the chatter, suddenly far more distracting than it had been the past few times, and focused on his work. But Yoongi’s ears kept picking out Jungkook’s words from the others’. Stop it, Yoongi told himself. This is a 21 year old boy. And he’s friends with your son! Get it together.
After about half an hour Yoongi decided that his throat was dry and he needed a glass of water. Usually he brought one to the studio, but he must have neglected to bring one today. Getting up from his chair made several of the bones in his back crack. Yoongi hated his posture, his shoulders completely slumped over, but he didn’t know what to do about it. He figured it was too late now, anyway.
When he entered the living room the quiet chatter stopped momentarily when all five pair of eyes lifted to look at Yoongi, before picking up again as they went back to work. Yoongi was sure that he still had the attention of at least two of them, though.
“What’s up, dad?” asked Jihoon.
“I just needed a glass of water.”
“Oh, did you forget one?”
Yoongi hummed, trying not to blush. As inconspicuous as he could manage, he sneaked a glance at Jungkook, hoping the other wouldn’t notice. Jungkook was looking down at a paper on the table, but he seemed distracted. The little smirk on his face told Yoongi that he probably knew the glass of water was just an excuse for Yoongi to see Jungkook. Or maybe Yoongi was being paranoid and reading too much in to the other’s behaviour. Yoongi used to do that with Haeun, too.
Not that what you feel for Jungkook is anything close to what you felt for Haeun. You barely know him, he tried to convince himself.
-
The following Tuesday Yoongi was in the kitchen preparing dinner, expecting to spend the afternoon by himself. Jihoon had told him that one of his group members was in the hospital due to falling and breaking their arm – Yoongi found himself worried about it being Jungkook, but couldn’t think of a way to ask – causing them to reschedule their group meeting till another day. Jihoon had instead made plans to eat at a friend’s house and would probably be home late.
Yoongi didn’t mind eating alone. It was rare that he had the house to himself, so it was nice when it occasionally happened. At least it was nice when it was only for a few hours. Yoongi was dreading Jihoon moving out, because whenever he spent more than a day away from home, Yoongi found himself missing his son immensely. (Yoongi figured this might be why Hoseok was trying so hard to set him up on dates).
Yoongi had gotten fairly good at cooking over the years, partly due to raising a son who needed nutrition and a proper diet. Luckily Jihoon wasn’t picky when it came to food, eating almost anything that was served. He wasn’t a big fan of lamb kebab, though, which was one of Yoongi’s favourite foods, so Yoongi made it as often as he had the chance.
He was almost done with the dish when he heard the door bell chime. Yoongi wasn’t expecting guests, and couldn’t think of anyone who would come to his house unannounced aside from maybe Hoseok, Namjoon or a salesman. He wiped his hands on a dishtowel before going to answer the door.
Standing on his doorstep was definitely not Hoseok, Namjoon or a salesman. “Jungkook?” he asked surprised upon seeing the boy. Despite being confused as to what Jungkook was doing here, he couldn’t help but be a bit relieved that he hadn’t broken his arm.
Jungkook eyed Yoongi’s apron, an amused smirk gracing his lips, before answering. “Hello, Yoongi-ssi. Can I come in?”
“…Did you not hear that your meeting was cancelled?”
Jungkook blinked. “Cancelled? Why?”
“Someone from your group broke their arm and is in the hospital, I think.”
Jungkook took out his phone, moving his fingers over the display for a few seconds before his shoulder’s sunk. “Damn.” Jungkook groaned. “Seriously! The bus doesn’t come back till in like, half an hour.”
“The bus?”
Jungkook looked like a deer caught in headlight. “Um. Yeah…” A blush slowly spread over his cheeks and he raised his hand to rub his neck. “You know… I was visiting my friends’ place. I have to go back there afterwards, too, so yeah…”
Jungkook didn’t meet his eyes, and Yoongi wondered if it was a lie. (He couldn’t really think of a reason as to why the younger would lie to him about taking the bus, though). He did feel kind of bad about Jungkook having to wait for half an hour, but even then, if he hadn’t been so enamored with Jungkook’s cuteness, he probably wouldn’t have said what he did next: “You know what, I was just cooking dinner. I made quite a lot. Why don’t you join me?”
Jungkook looked just as surprised as Yoongi felt. “Really?”
No, not really. This is a terrible idea. What are you thinking, Min Yoongi?
“Sure. It would be nice with some company.”
Jungkook shuffled inside hesitantly. He somehow looked more out of place than the last many times he’d been in the house. Yoongi left as soon as Jungkook started taking off his jacket, but Jungkook wasn’t slow to follow, quickly slipping off his shoes. As they entered the kitchen, Yoongi asked over his shoulder: “Do you like lamb kebab?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had any,” was the reply Yoongi got.
“Oh. Well, I guess we’ll find out.”
-
Seeing as Yoongi had almost been done with dinner, it didn’t take long before they could eat. He set the table quickly, urging Jungkook to sit down on Jihoon’s usual chair across from his own. There were only four chairs around the table today. The table was fairly large, having space for two more chairs, but Yoongi only took out the other chairs when they had guests over. Otherwise it felt too crowded, in Yoongi’s opinion. The two spare chairs stayed mostly because Yoongi’s friends and coworkers, Hoseok and Namjoon, visited so often.
“Do you want some wine?” Yoongi asked as he was taking out the glasses. He had been planning on drinking juice, but he was having a guest over, after all.
“Just one glass, then, please.”
Yoongi poured both Jungkook and himself a glass before sitting down, signaling for Jungkook to help himself to the food. It quickly became apparent that Jungkook ate well, helping himself to a generous serving. Yoongi was glad he had made so much.
“Wow, this is so good!” Jungkook said between bites.
“Really? You think so? Not many people like lamb kebab.”
Jungkook nodded vigorously. “Yes, I really like it! This is the best food I’ve had in a long time.”
Yoongi felt a blush on his cheeks, but he ignored it the best he could, hoping it would disappear. “Don’t exaggerate.”
“I mean it, Yoongi-ssi,” Jungkook said seriously, looking straight into Yoongi’s eyes. Yoongi was sure his flush was spreading.
“Thank you,” Yoongi finally said. “And call me hyung.”
Jungkook smiled delighted, a bit shy, before returning to his plate. Yoongi couldn’t help but find the younger cute, with eyes wide in wonder and puffed cheeks. Yoongi felt like he was overstepping some boundaries. He wasn’t sure how unethical it was to have dinner with your son’s classmate, but his growing feelings for him definitely weren’t helping.
To Yoongi the dinner felt more intimate than the countless dates Yoongi had been on, and that had been with flowers on the table, soft music in the background and dimmed lighting. Yoongi had more chemistry with Jungkook than with anyone he’d gone on a date with the last many years, the air feeling heated every time their eyes met. Conversation came easy to them, and somehow talking to Jungkook was interesting even when the topic at hand wasn’t.
“Do you ever miss Daegu?” Jungkook asked suddenly. He’d been there a while; the sun had set hours ago. Yoongi looked up from his plate, surprised at the question. He pondered it over a few seconds, not sure how to answer it.
“I used to. I moved here when I was 17. At first I missed Daegu a lot, but now I barely remember what it was like to live there. I haven’t been back there in years. Not after Jihoon got old enough to visit his grandparents himself. They never really forgave me for ‘ruining my future’, but they still want to see their grandson,” Yoongi said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. From the sad smile Jungkook sent him, he was pretty sure he didn’t succeed. Yoongi cleared his throat. “Do you miss Busan?”
Jungkook sighs, a wistful sound. “I do. Every day.”
“What do you miss the most?” Yoongi asked, both hoping that talking about Busan would make Jungkook feel better, but also curious. He wanted to get to know the younger, not just the person he was now, but the person he used to be, where he came from, what made him into the person he was today.
Jungkook started listing things he missed: “My parents, my brother, the ocean…” but it quickly turned into a detailed description of the place. Yoongi listened, hanging on to every word as if they were gold falling from Jungkook’s lips, and didn’t take his eyes off the other as he talked, painting a picture of a place Yoongi suddenly wanted to go to (preferably with Jungkook). Yoongi was well aware that no place was perfect, Jungkook even told him stories about the place that weren’t all positive – like the time he’d fallen down a tree and some of the other kids had laughed – but Jungkook didn’t talk about Busan negatively, even still had a special place in his heart for said tree now, having made other memories there as well – like eating ice cream with his friends in the shadow on a sunny day.
Yoongi listened to it all, not just politely so, but genuinely interested in what the other had to say. It seemed that Jungkook had needed to get it out, because when he stopped talking, he seemed lighter, freer. The food was long gone, both of their plates empty, and they were left to sip on their respective drinks which had been refilled a few times already. Yoongi was feeling pleasantly buzzed, but far from drunk, and Jungkook had changed his wine out with juice a glass or two ago.
Looking at the clock Yoongi was shocked to see the time. “Jungkook, how did you say you were getting back to your friend’s place?”
Jungkook looked confused for a few moments, before realization settled on his face. “By bus, why?”
“It’s almost eleven o’clock. When does the last bus go?”
Jungkook perked up, surprised. “Eleven already? Wow, I talked a long time,” he said, slightly abashed. Yoongi wanted to reassure him that it was okay, but he continued talking before Yoongi got the chance to. “The bus should be here in 20 minutes, but there is one more after that, I think. I should probably go now, though. I have an early lecture tomorrow.”
Slowly Jungkook got ready to leave, refusing Yoongi’s proposal of following him all the way to the bus stop. Yoongi followed Jungkook out into the hall instead, watching him take on his shoes and jacket. As Jungkook was about to open the door, he turned around instead.
“Thank you,” he said. The words were simple, words said every day, about everything, often meaningless, and not always genuine; a gesture of politeness that was expected, but rarely more than just that – polite. The way Jungkook said them, though, was as if they held a deeper meaning, and Yoongi understood. Thank you for letting me in, thank you for giving me food, thank you for letting me stay, thank you for listening.
“Any time,” Yoongi replied. They stood there, facing each other, gazes held, and the tension between them palpable. Yoongi was reminded of the last time Jungkook had lingered by the door while talking to Yoongi, the first time they met. The feeling was stronger this time, Yoongi was certain now that Jungkook hadn’t wanted to leave, didn’t want to leave. But this time it was mutual; Yoongi didn’t want Jungkook to leave, he wanted him to stay all evening, he wanted him to stay as long as he possibly could, he wanted him to stay till Yoongi’s heart was no longer beating, no longer in need of Jungkook’s to beat along with it. Yoongi, chill, he thought to himself. That was way too cheesy to even think.
It was as if they were magnets, hard to pull apart when finally collided, an attraction between them too strong to fight, pulling, pulling, always pulling. Suddenly there weren’t two meters between them, but 20 centimeters, the number decreasing with every breath they took, slowly mingling. Yoongi had never been this close to Jungkook before. Up close Yoongi could make out the little imperfections on his face, the scar on his left cheek, and the long eyelashes on his now drooping eyes.
Then he could barely see anything, Jungkook so close his eyes couldn’t make him out properly. And Yoongi wanted. Every fiver of Yoongi’s being screamed at him to lean in, to kiss Jungkook till both their lips were bruised, to mark every part of Jungkook’s body he could reach, to be as close to him as physically and emotionally possible. But even in his fuzzy state, he had to think about the consequences. First, he’d had a few glasses of wine, and although he was nowhere near drunk, it was a good excuse to Yoongi himself. Second, Jungkook was the age of and took the same classes as Yoongi’s son. Yoongi couldn’t just kiss him after knowing him for a few weeks, both possibly affected by the mood that had been growing between them all night.
Yoongi closed the distance between them, but instead of their lips meeting, he rested his forehead against Jungkook’s. It was a bit of a stretch, considering the height difference, but he managed. He grabbed a fistful of Jungkook’s white t-shirt, accessible because Jungkook had yet to close his jacket. Maybe the action was a way for Yoongi to feel grounded; maybe it was a means for Jungkook to both be kept at bay and be unable to pull away.
Jungkook didn’t try pulling away, despite the surprised (and slightly disappointed) huff of breath. Instead he met Yoongi’s gaze once again, his eyes – so close, so close – boring into Yoongi’s, intense, almost imploring.
“Go out with me,” he whispered into their shared space, breath fanning over Yoongi’s mouth, making him shiver. Yoongi allowed himself to think about why agreeing wasn’t a bad idea. Jungkook was beautiful, funny and kind, but somehow that wasn’t what mattered. Lots of people were beautiful, funny and kind; all of Yoongi’s prior dates had been. What mattered was: Yoongi was feeling something, for the first time in so long. Yoongi knew he would regret not at least trying to pursue a relationship with Jungkook. (Yoongi also had to remind himself that Jungkook wasn’t really friends with Jihoon, they barely knew each other, only spending time together due to being put in a group for their project).
Yoongi nodded, moving Jungkook’s head a bit along with his own in the process. “All right,” he agreed, voice sounding wrecked. Upon hearing his own voice he stepped back, pulling himself together. “You’re going to be late for your bus.”
Jungkook nodded, acknowledging his words, but didn’t look like he was in a hurry, despite his earlier words. He pulled out his phone, clicking in his code, handing it over to Yoongi. “Better hurry writing in your number, then.” When Jungkook got his phone back, he turned around and opened the door.
“Jungkook?” Yoongi called. Jungkook stopped with a foot out the door. “Be careful.”
Jungkook nodded again, and smiled at Yoongi before exiting the house. Yoongi could just make out Jungkook’s form break out in a run through the door’s window.
Yoongi didn’t know if Jungkook was late to the bus, but later, after Jihoon had gotten home and just as Yoongi was getting in to bed, he received a text from an unknown number:
Got home safe. Goodnight xx
-
Yoongi had been starting to regret agreeing to the date when Jungkook messaged Yoongi about their first date. The text didn’t say anything about the location, just a time, the date and to wear something nice, but casual, warm and practical. Truthfully Yoongi didn’t spend too much time figuring out what to wear – he was too old to go into frenzy over that (he settled on a pair of jeans and sweater). Neither of them owned a car, so they met up and used public transport to get there.
Yoongi couldn’t figure out whether or not he was surprised about the place Jungkook had picked. On one hand Jungkook seemed quiet and introverted, but on the other hand he seemed adventurous. Yoongi personally hadn’t been to an ice skating rink in years, and was surprised Jungkook found one that was open already (despite being one of the coldest autumns he could recall, the weather was still not that cold, only a bit chilly). Yoongi wasn’t really sure if he would like it, but he decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. The last many times he’d been ice skating he’d been busy looking after Jihoon to really get to skate himself.
“I haven’t been to a place like this in ages.” Yoongi told Jungkook as they were getting on with the demanding process of getting on the skates. It was a bit colder in the ice rink than it had been outside, and Yoongi was grateful that he had remembered to bring a pair of wool socks and mittens (Yoongi could still recall the story his mom had told him when he was little about the kid that had gotten their fingers sliced off by a pair of ice skates. Yoongi didn’t know if the story was true, but he wasn’t taking any chances).
“Do you not go with Jihoon?” Jungkook questioned, already done with the ice skate-task, now leaning back and waiting for Yoongi to finish.
“Not anymore. He usually goes with his friends, now.” Yoongi tried not to think about the weirdness of it all – here he was, on a date talking about his son, his son whom his date went to school with.
“Mh, makes sense. I’ve only been once, when I was little. I think there are two ice skating rinks in Busan now, but back then there was only one, and it was quite far from where I grew up.”
When both of them had secured the shoes onto their feet they stood up and together wobbled to the rink itself. Yoongi had never been good at ice skating, so the first steps on the ice were awkward. Yoongi didn’t go far out and quickly found his way back to the railing, skating with one hand clutching it, Jungkook following his lead. When Yoongi finally felt confident enough to let go, he stayed by Jungkook’s side, giving him tips on how to stay in balance. It didn’t take long for Jungkook to let go, too, the two of them skating side by side, their pace increasing as they went.
Yoongi shouldn’t be surprised when Jungkook slipped his hand into his, but he was.
There were a fair amount of people in the skating rink, shooting past them without a care in the world. Yoongi didn’t like crowds. Crowds meant a lot of people, a lot of noise, no personal space, getting pushed around, and an ever-lingering feeling of stress. But when Jungkook took Yoongi’s hand in his, the rest of the world disappeared. Suddenly Yoongi didn’t feel like he was part of the crowd, he felt apart from it. All he could focus on was the Jungkook’s hand in his, the warmth that emitted from it, how solid it felt, how real. Right then, holding Jungkook’s hand in his, was the most grounded he’d felt in awhile. Not only did he forget about the people around them, he forgot about work, his responsibilities, his parents’ betrayal, his own failed marriage, being a single dad; he forgot about all of it for just a few hours, all he could think about being Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.
None of them were very good at skating, falling over and into each other, giggling like small kids. (Yoongi liked the sound of Jungkook’s laugh. Yoongi liked being the reason for Jungkook’s laugh). Yoongi felt giddy with excitement, an addicting feeling bubbling in his stomach, pulsing through his veins. Yoongi still wasn’t sure why Jungkook was even interested in him, why he would waste his time on someone twice his age, but Jungkook seemed just as excited as Yoongi was. Yoongi almost felt like a teenager again, gliding over the ice with ease.
After an hour of skating they sat down on a bench with a cup of coffee and hot chocolate respectively, watching the other skaters in silence. One skater in particular stood out, probably a professional, almost arrogant in their skill, skating around like they owned the place. Yoongi’s eyes followed them as they twirled and jumped, moving their body in ways Yoongi would never dare do on ice (or off ice, for that matter).
Jungkook was the first to break the silence. “So, what do you think?”
“It’s nice,” Yoongi said. He snickered at himself mentally; that sounded inadequate even to Yoongi. “I wasn’t sure I would like it, actually, but it’s been fun,” he elaborated. “I really enjoyed myself.”
Jungkook smiled into his cup. “Good. I’m glad.”
Yoongi decided that romantic dinners at overpaid restaurants were overrated. Ice skating was way more fun. But if Jungkook wanted to go on expensive romantic dinners, Yoongi would go on a thousand, just to see him smile like that.
-
Jungkook insisted on following Yoongi home (“It’s on the way, it will actually make it easier for me,” Jungkook had said. Yoongi was pretty sure he was lying, but he didn’t complain; after all, it just meant that they could be together longer). When they arrived at Yoongi’s front door it was dark outside. Jihoon wasn’t home – he was at a party, planning on spending the night somewhere else – so the light wasn’t on and they were standing too far from the streetlamps, the glow from the moon the only thing illuminating them. Jungkook looked pretty like that; his eyes shining and tan skin almost glistening.
It was a lot chillier now, both of them shuddering in their coats, prolonging the inevitable separation. There was a peculiar expression on Jungkook’s face; almost expectant, hopeful, thoughtful. As if he was hoping for something to happen, and he wanted to ask for it, but he didn’t quite know how. His mouth moved, opening slightly before closing again, unsure of what to say and how to say it. “We should do this again,” is what he settled on.
Yoongi’s conscious told him that they shouldn’t even have done it once in the first place, and they definitely shouldn’t do it again. But out loud he said: “Yeah. We should.” And he meant it. He wanted to do it again; and again and again. Maybe that was selfish, but Yoongi thought that people sometimes had a right to be a bit selfish. And Yoongi hadn’t had the opportunity to be selfish since he was 16, growing up way too fast with too much responsibility. Jihoon was 18, almost an adult. Yoongi could allow himself to be selfish this once.
Yoongi’s legs had moved himself closer to the other on their own accord. A feeling of déjà vu swept over him; it had been less than a week since he’d stood by his front door (last time inside and slightly warmer, mind you), moving closer to a tall boy with bunny teeth and big eyes. But this time he wasn’t planning on holding himself back.
Jungkook made the first move this time, but he didn’t touch his forehead to Yoongi’s, he pressed their mouths together a little too roughly, a little too eager, stealing Yoongi’s breath away. Yoongi hadn’t been kissed in a long time – his dates usually didn’t go that far – but it quickly came back to him. He slowed the kiss down, going from passionate to more gentle, savoring the feeling of the other against him, being warmed up from the inside.
Jungkook pulled away, leaning his forehead against Yoongi’s once again, keeping his eyes shut.
“God, I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you,” admitted Jungkook in a breath.
“Yeah?” Yoongi asked shakily.
“Yeah. You were wearing those glasses of yours. I love when you wear those. You look so…”
“Sexy?” he guessed.
“I was going to say cute.”
Yoongi pouted in spite of himself, making Jungkook laugh and kiss him again. When Jungkook finally left half an hour later Yoongi’s fingers were no longer frozen, but his heart was hammering in his chest and it took ages for him to calm down and fall asleep.
-
Over the course of the last few months Yoongi had been over at Jungkook’s apartment a fair amount of times (he was somehow not at all surprised to find that the apartment was nowhere near his own house and walking from the store to Yoongi’s home had been a complete detour). He went there as often as he could without making Jihoon suspicious, often telling his son that he had a date Friday or Saturday – or both. Watching movies in Jungkook’s couch, or Yoongi staying the night and cooking Jungkook breakfast on days where he knew Jihoon wouldn’t be home, wasn’t unusual. He took advantage of the time Jihoon was spending with friends, for the first time grateful for how often that happened. Spending the morning in bed cuddling with Jungkook was definitely not unusual either, but this particular time Yoongi felt nervous lying in Jungkook’s bed spooning him.
Yoongi didn’t know what his friends would think (or say) if they found out about his relationship with Jungkook, a boy nearly half Yoongi’s age. He was torn between thinking Hoseok would be happy that he finally found someone (to help him get over Haeun) or just give him a long lecture about Jungkook being too young for him. Namjoon’s reaction was a mystery. Yoongi could deal with his friends, though. What he was most worried about was how Jihoon would take it. Yoongi couldn’t imagine the reaction he himself would have had if one of his parents had started dating one of his classmates when he was in college (not that he’d been to college, but that was another matter). And yet…
“I think I want to tell him about us,” Yoongi said softly, playing with Jungkook’s fingers and not meeting his eyes when the other turned his head towards him.
“Jihoon?” Jungkook asked and gave up on his attempt to have eye contact with Yoongi, laying back down and pressed closer to Yoongi’s chest.
Yoongi hummed in confirmation. Jungkook intertwined their hands, squeezing gently.
“Whenever you’re ready.”