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The hallways of the university are packed with students, loud with gossiping chatter. Jimin huffs as he squeezes through shoulders and bags to get to his locker. It’s getting hotter by the second.
“Like those poor chickens in a coop.”
He grumbles, dodging another student’s bag charms. Finally, he reaches his locker and unlocks it. Pinning his bag between his knee and the metal cabinet, he grabs a few books and tries to match them to his schedule.
“I could come back between my language and linguistics classes to get the rest…” Jimin mumbles, reluctant to haul a weighty backpack all day. “Or, I could leave my laptop and take notes.”
A blaring, husky voice commenting on yesterday’s football game cuts through the crammed hall. Before he can turn his head to the speaker, a broad shoulder bumps into his back. The shove isn’t aggressive, but it’s enough to throw Jimin off balance. One by one, his books tumble to the ground.
With a long sigh, he squeezes his eyes shut. The noises around him continue to roar in his head. He looks at the scattered books on the tiles.
He should have stayed tucked in bed today.
Jimin glares after the student, who didn’t even stop to apologize. He can’t make him out, or the friends around him.
“I guess apologizing is too much for your pea-sized brain. Dickhead.” He mumbles, gaze still glued on the boy’s back. Out of pure stubbornness, Jimin tries to lean down without moving his backpack, balancing awkwardly on one leg.
It’s much harder than anticipated.
His lips press together, and he glances at the floor. But there is nothing spread out around his feet anymore.
His books are gone.
He steps back, his bag sliding down his leg. Now, it lies right where his books should be.
“What the fuck?” Jimin mutters in a trembling tone.
Those are expensive.
Just when he’s about to release another series of curse words, a large, icy hand wraps around his elbow.
He’s shoved aside hard enough to stumble. There’s no time to look up before his books are pressed into his hands.
Their fingers graze, and the touch feels alien. Without thinking, Jimin pushes his books to his chest.
“Don’t just leave your books lying around everywhere, you idiot.”
Jimin’s jaw clenches as he watches the student walk away without sparing him a second glance.
This time, Jimin recognizes the wide, muscular shoulders and tattooed arm. He’s been behind him in class enough times.
Jeon Jeongguk.
Known for being the university’s best athlete and one of the top students. Annoyingly good looking too.
And just another dickhead.
-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-
“What are you frowning for?”
Taehyung asks, his legs stretched out under the desk, as Jimin takes a seat beside him.
“Nothing,” Jimin replies in one breath while his mind dwells on Jeongguk.
Asshole.
Many more insults follow in his head. After a dozen, his mind feels lighter.
Exhaling slowly, he prepares his laptop and book for the lesson. It’s literature, his favorite, and he definitely doesn't need any distractions during class.
With that, he diverts his focus to the professor who starts the lesson with a new assignment.
“Some of you might not remember, but at the beginning of this semester I told you about a competition that will be held at this year’s culture event.” The professor’s voice is stentorian, but not intimidating.
The mention of the culture event makes Jimin shift in his chair.
“And the competition for the English department has been decided. Two students will have the chance to win a paid trip to the beach by presenting a self-written poem to two of the most celebrated writers of this generation.”
Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi.
Two young authors who have opened many doors for Asian writers. Both are winners of the Pulitzer Prize.
And an inspiration for Jimin ever since their first release. They have influenced his career path. Quite frankly, he doesn’t care about the beach trip.
He merely wants to find out whether he has the talent to write. Whether he should pursue this silly dream of his.
Maybe, if he can impress Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi even a little, he’ll have his answer.
A smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Jimin glances at Taehyung, who offers him a wide smile and a thumbs up.
They’ve got this.
“Just a small note, you’ll be working in pairs.” The professor’s lips twitch upwards, exposing a glint of mischief. “And I’ve decided that you’re not going to work with the person beside you.”
Goosebumps trail down Jimin’s back, and he clenches his fists under the desk.
Don’t say it. Please don’t.
“You’ll be working with the person directly in front of you.”
The room falls into utter silence. Jimin buries his face in his palms.
He’s in hell. Under the depths of it, rock bottom of Satan’s mansion.
But he’s not the only one who’s pissed off.
Many students grumble under their breath, but don’t openly complain.
“Ah, kill me.” Jeongguk mutters loud enough for Jimin to hear. His head is thrown back with his fingers gripping his hair.
“You have two months to compose your poem and to prepare the presentation of your work. Make it count.”
Jeongguk turns around at an almost lazy pace, clearly aware of who sits behind him. His eyes narrow further.
For a second too long, they remain quiet, and there is a sharp flicker in Jeongguk’s eyes.
Jimin swears it’s unfiltered hatred.
“I guess I’m not going to be top of the class this semester.”
Jimin wants to rip his tongue off. Instead, he clasps his hands together until his knuckles turn white. His usual bright manner is dull as he forces a smile.
“Don’t worry. I hate this just as much as you do.”
Jeongguk’s eyebrow twitches, but doesn’t argue back. Instead, he gets up with a slouch, snatching his book and notepad.
He slides his items onto Jimin’s table. The notebook pokes Jimin’s elbow.
“Not so enthusiastic,” He mumbles, prodding Jeongguk’s belongings further away from him.
“Don’t piss me off.”
“I think it’s too late for that already.”
Jeongguk halts and slowly breathes out. His shoulders drop, his fingers grasp his phone.
“Let’s just get this shit over with.”
Jimin observes him. His long steps. His furrowed brows. His flushed ears.
And with each approaching step, the possibility of winning the competition shrinks.
The room feels colder, and Jimin hugs himself, trying to prevent the goosebumps from trailing over his exposed skin.
The chatter around him drifts away. If he wants to win this competition, he has no other choice but to work with Jeongguk.
To cooperate with him. To create a poem.
Jimin picks at his thumb and straightens his back. Just be nice. Tolerate him.
“I hope you can read.”
The pen in Jimin’s hand almost snaps in half.
“That’s such a stupid thing to say. But I guess that’s to be expected from you.” His hand swipes at the dust on the desk, a forced grin settling on his lips. “Since you’re stupid and unbearable.”
“If that’s your level of creativity, then God knows I’m not seeing the beach.” Jeongguk takes a seat next to him. The chair creaks against the floor.
His gaze shifts from Jimin to Taehyung, who’s watching them with poorly hidden interest.
“What?” Jeongguk asks sharply.
“Only don’t fuck this up for Jimin and actually try to do well. Other than that, don’t kill each other.” Taehyung pats Jimin on the shoulder and joins his new partner at the desk in front of theirs.
“Telling the best student in class to do well.” Jeongguk chuckles, shaking his head, before getting his pen out of his bag.
Beside Jeongguk, Jimin can only hope that he can survive the next two months with someone as insufferable as him.
But he’s undeniably pretty.
At least Jimin’s eyes will have a better time than his nerves.
“Got something to say?”
Despite Jimin’s persistent staring, Jeongguk keeps his eyes on the page as he notes down today’s date. His handwriting seems rushed compared to the notes on the previous page.
“You’re a dickhead.”
Jimin’s hand flies up to his mouth before he bites his bottom lip. But Jeongguk doesn’t grow more irritated, or roll his eyes. He remains unmoving.
“You know just what to say to me, Jimin.”
His name sounds strange in Jeongguk’s voice. Less harsh than anything else he’s said before.
Every instinct shouts at Jimin not to lower his guards.
“Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. You know, from the Godfather?” He says flatly, brushing his hands over his jeans as silence settles around them.
“Anyways, we should brainstorm.”
When there’s no objection from Jeongguk, Jimin leans back, trying to come up with something he and Jeongguk can sympathize with.
A theme that gives them a chance at winning the competition.
Homesickness and self-hatred cross his mind. However, Jimin doesn’t feel comfortable voicing any of his ideas out loud.
In lieu, he waits for Jeongguk to name the first possible subject. His foot taps against the floor in a steady rhythm as Jeongguk flicks his pen against the table in the same cadence.
Clearing his throat, Jimin adjusts his posture and rubs his temple with his thumb.
“Any ideas for the poem?” His hands drop to his lap.
“Well…” Jeongguk presses the ball of his pen deep into the paper. “What about unrequited love?”
Unwillingly, Jimin’s eyebrows curve upwards.
“Unrequited love?” He repeats, tilting his head. “Has anyone ever even rejected you?”
“Just because I haven’t been rejected doesn’t mean that everyone I love loves me back.”
The flush from Jeongguk’s ears travels to his cheeks, and Jimin can’t help but notice.
Jeongguk looks much less… guarded.
“I guess…” He whispers, still gazing at the deep reddish color on Jeongguk’s skin. “Somehow that fills me with sheer fucking joy.”
“What?” Jeongguk’s jawline tenses up—annoyance flashes across his face.
“I don’t know. I like knowing that you’re a human with ordinary experiences.” Jimin purses his lips as Jeongguk smirks to himself.
“Sounds to me like you don’t have hobbies. I heard running is good.” He shrugs, drawing circles on the empty page.
The tone of Jeongguk's voice loses some of its bite. Jimin swallows his anger and redirects his focus back to the vacant notepad in front of them.
“We should probably get back to our assignment. So, unrequited love?”
“If you don’t like it, then we can just—”
“No, I like it.” Jimin takes Jeongguk’s pen from his hand and writes down the theme on his notepad, underlining it twice. “Now we just need to find the emotional core.”
When Jimin returns the pen, he makes sure their fingers don’t brush against each other. Despite his efforts, their elbows graze, and he flinches at the haunted touch.
“Emotional intent?” Jeongguk peers at Jimin. “Like a bittersweet ache?”
“You think unrequited love is bittersweet?”
A composite of different voices and ideas fills the room, but Jimin doesn’t lose his focus.
The idea of unshared love doesn’t seem like a bittersweet experience to him—only an agonizing heartache.
“I think that loving someone is a privilege. To have your heart beat for something other than survival.” Jeongguk explains with a softer voice. His eyes meet Jimin’s.
And for the first time, he holds his gaze.
“But I suppose it is cruel to be alone with those feelings.”
Jeongguk’s words echo in Jimin’s mind.
For him, love has always been something that is shared. It’s intimate—an embrace of comfort. Unrequited love seems to be a lonely path of pain.
Jimin looks at his empty ring finger.
Just when he’s about to open his mouth, a vibration from Jeongguk’s bag interrupts their conversation. Jeongguk yanks his phone out, eyeing the screen. His lips part.
His face loses all color, and his body stiffens. Before Jimin can even begin to question his behavior, Jeongguk jumps up from his seat.
“Shit, I forgot that I moved my shift for today.” Jeongguk pushes his phone into his back pocket. “Shit.”
“I have to go.” He blurts out as he shoves his book and notepad into his backpack. Jimin’s pen rolls onto the ground.
“Class isn’t even over yet?”
“I’ll message you on Teams.” Jeongguk mutters, bending down to return the pen to the desk. Right beside Jimin. “And make sure to respond.”
“Don’t lecture me when you’re the one leaving mid-class!” Jimin yells after him, but Jeongguk is out of the lecture room.
He’s alone at the desk with a restless sensation crawling over his skin.
-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-
Jeon Jeongguk | 8:43am:
come to the sky coffee at 2
before you get your hopes up… it’s for the literature assignment
Park Jimin | 8:51am:
go fuck yourself
Jeon Jeongguk | 8:51am:
then don’t come. i’ll work on it myself
Park Jimin | 8:57am:
as if
It’s thirteen minutes past two when Jimin bursts through the door of the coffee shop. His hair sticks up in every direction, and he’s still slightly out of breath.
He went back to sleep after Jeongguk’s message, and foolishly overslept.
Now, he can only pray that Jeongguk isn’t here yet.
Squinting, he sweeps the room for the familiar tattooed arm. Unfortunately, Jeongguk is already sitting by the large window. Sunlight spills across the table while he’s jotting down several notes in his book.
Jimin sighs, knowing he’s never going to hear the end of his tardiness from Jeongguk.
As he walks past the counter, he scans the menu. An iced coffee would definitely help with his exhaustion. But it would probably tick Jeongguk off if he waltzes in fifteen minutes too late with a drink in his hand.
Taking a deep breath, Jimin makes his way towards Jeongguk who still hasn’t noticed him.
When he stands in front of Jeongguk’s table, he knocks against the wooden surface. The soft noise startles Jeongguk, and he glances up.
Brief surprise flashes across his face, then a blank stare swallows any traces of reaction.
“You actually came.” Jeongguk moves his belongings closer to him while Jimin gradually sits down.
“Why would I not come?”
“You weren’t here at two.” Jeongguk counters, cocking an eyebrow.
So predictable.
“I’m barely fifteen minutes late.” Jimin grumbles as he unpacks his bag. Jeongguk shakes his head and chuckles.
“Doesn’t surprise me that you have no regard for punctuality.”
Jimin runs his tongue over his top teeth. A snarky remark threatens to spill out. Instead, he opens his notebook with a loud thud.
“At last, I’m here, aren’t I?” Jimin offers a tight smile which Jeongguk notices immediately.
Instead of addressing it, he flips through the pages.
“Yeah, you are.” He sighs, reading over his notes. “Fifteen minutes too late.”
What a pain in the ass.
“By the way, I got you something to drink.”
Jimin freezes, searching for any sign of deception in Jeongguk’s face.
But he only slides a paper cup towards Jimin without sparing him a single glance. With caution, Jimin studies the drink. Or at least, he tries to. He can’t really see the liquid since its lid is opaque.
“I didn’t spit in it.” Jeongguk’s voice pierces the silence. “In case you’re worried.”
“I wasn’t worried about you spitting in it until you said it.” Jimin murmurs while he lifts the cup to inspect it.
Deciding to trust Jeongguk, he brings the drink to his lips, taking a tiny sip from it.
On the other side of the table, Jeongguk breaks into a smug grin.
“This is…” Jimin smacks his lips. “This is pure milk.”
He places the cup beside Jeongguk’s iced coffee latte. With a swirl of caramel on top.
“Milk is a drink.”
Even though the argument sits at the top of Jimin’s tongue, he stays quiet, keeping his gaze on the iced coffee.
Placing his hands on the edge of the table, he deliberately leans over. His lips wrap around the straw from Jeongguk’s drink, raising his eyes to catch his.
However, Jeongguk doesn’t look disgusted or irritated.
He doesn’t move at all. Only his mouth falls ajar while his pupils dilate. And all the blood rushes to his face.
Jimin’s breath catches in his throat.
For a second too long, he doesn’t know what to do. He’s well aware that he should pull away and sit back down. But his body malfunctions.
His cheeks burn up as he struggles to steady his breathing.
“Jimin.”
Jeongguk’s breath hits his face, and Jimin blinks himself out of his trance.
Hurriedly, he returns to his seat, clutching the armrests until his knuckles pale. His blood rushes in his ears.
“Sorry.” Jimin speaks softly. “I was curious about your drink.”
Wincing at himself, he drags his thumb over his bottom lip. He can’t even remember the taste.
“No worries.” Jeongguk breathes out, rubbing the back of his neck. The tension between them turns painfully thick.
Jimin gulps, his focus fixated on his notebook.
“About the poem—”
“You know what—”
Both men shut their mouths, staring at each other wordlessly. The gentle sounds of the coffee shop surround them while Jimin exhales a short gasp.
“You first.” Jimin manages to say without letting the awkwardness creep into his voice.
“You can keep the drink.” Jeongguk nudges his coffee to him, leaving Jimin frowning.
“Why? Because you’re grossed out?”
“No.” Jeongguk utters. “I don’t like sweet stuff.”
Jimin angles his head to the side, studying the cup then Jeongguk’s rosy cheeks.
“Then why did you order this?” He hesitantly accepts the drink.
The coldness clings to his palm as he pulls it closer.
“Because—” Jeongguk runs his tongue across his lips while his hands fiddle with his pen. “Just take it.”
With the air being awkward enough, Jimin chooses not to push this matter any longer. But it lingers in his mind.
“About the poem.” Jimin changes the topic. “Any ideas what our objective should be?”
Taking another sip from his iced coffee, Jimin wonders whether Jeongguk drank from it before him. Against his will, he imagines Jeongguk’s lips sucking on the same straw.
Jimin shakes his head, putting the drink aside.
“I thought about using travel for our poem.” Jeongguk turns his notebook to the side, showing his notes.
Scribbles and keywords fill the page, and Jimin needs a minute to piece the idea together.
Love in things you do. In words you speak. In silence you find comfort. From your heart to these actions.
“You mean, your love wanders to the other person?” He asks, finally understanding some of it. Jeongguk nods.
“It travels from your actions, but never reaches the destination.” He further explains.
Jimin nibbles at his bottom lip, listening to Jeongguk’s words as the outline of the poem slowly forms in his mind.
“Like a letter with an address but no stamp.” He adds, and there’s a faint light in Jeongguk’s eyes.
“Yeah, exactly.”
“That’s a beautiful premise.” Jimin means his words.
For the first time since meeting Jeongguk, the smile comes easily.
“Thank you, Jimin.”
And he still can’t get used to the bizarre tingle when Jeongguk says his name.
“Let’s get to writing then, shall we?” Ignoring the feeling of pins and needles at the tip of his fingers, Jimin grabs his pen. Jeongguk follows his lead, writing down concise keywords.
At first, they’re silent except when one of them exchanges ideas. As much as it pains Jimin to admit it, they work ridiculously well together. He has the talent for composition while Jeongguk’s ideas shine through.
The competition doesn’t appear hopeless anymore.
“Okay. So far we have a decent introduction.” Jimin mumbles with his pen pressed against his bottom lip.
“My heart, even though certain of its journey’s end, is lost. It left traces of its existence. In the meals. In the letters. In the stolen glances. Yet, it continues to walk in circles, stumbling over its own fragments. It knows its haven, but not which path to take.”
After the last sentence, Jimin lifts his gaze to Jeongguk whose grin reveals his satisfaction.
“It’s pretty good.” Jeongguk says, resting his chin on his palm.
“Yeah. Who would have thought we’d work well together?”
It’s not even close to being done, but Jimin feels confident about the first draft. The poem has a shape already. A story to tell.
In front of him, Jeongguk rubs his hands together, tentatively shifting in his seat.
“Maybe you and I are—”
Jeongguk’s sentence is cut short by a ringtone, but this time it’s Jimin’s phone.
“Sorry.” Jimin grimaces and reaches for his phone. Curiosity pushes against his mind, but he dismisses it as he picks up the call.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jiminie.”
Taehyung’s cheerful voice rings from the other side. In the background he can hear other students from his department loudly discussing a new restaurant.
“What’s up?” Jimin pokes his pen into his notepad, sensing Jeongguk’s attention on him.
“Our department is hosting a party tonight. You’re in?”
That explains the conversation in the background. Jimin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He has at least three more assignments to complete for next week, excluding this one.
But Jeongguk’s presence is everywhere, and Jimin can’t think straight.
“Sure. I’ll pass by.” He finally says as heat creeps across his ears.
“Greaaaat.” Taehyung claps and confirms to the other student that Jimin will join them. “Hold on, you’re still with Jeongguk, right?”
Jimin freezes. The ink from his pen pierces through the paper.
“Yeah, why?” His voice comes out high-pitched.
“Invite him too.”
Across the table, Jeongguk takes a sip from the cold milk. Right where Jimin’s lips had touched before.
“Why don’t you call him?” Jimin asks in a hushed tone.
“Because I don’t have his number.” Taehyung’s reply is nonchalant as he eats what seems to be chips.
“He’s active on Teams.”
“Jimin.”
He runs his hand through his hair. Something this insignificant has his palms sweating.
“Okay. I’ll ask him.” He promises with a shaky breath. Taehyung sends kisses between quick thank-yous over the phone. “Yeah, yeah. See you tonight.”
Jimin hangs up and stares at the dark screen.
“Do you want—”
“Do you want me to go?” Jeongguk interrupts him. A smile sits on his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Jimin bites the inside of his cheek.
“You were listening?”
“No.” Jeongguk rests his forearms on the table. “I just happened to hear it.”
Phones really need to start isolating the calls better.
“Then you know that you’re invited.” Jimin says, twirling the straw from the iced coffee.
“I didn’t ask if I’m invited.”
Usually, a snarky comment like this would poke at Jimin’s patience. However, the pale shadow of flirtation tugs at something much more fragile.
“Honestly?” Jimin slides his arms onto the table, parallel to Jeongguk’s. Wickedness dances in his expression. “No, I don’t want you there.”
Unlike before, Jeongguk doesn't freeze at the sudden proximity. Instead, he leans towards Jimin at a slow pace.
He doesn’t stop until their faces are merely inches apart.
“Okay.” His breath tickles Jimin’s lips, but neither of them back down, even though the unfamiliarity of it all makes Jimin feel at a loss.
“I’ll see you tonight then.”
Within a second, Jeongguk pulls away, not giving Jimin a moment to register the words or actions. By the time Jimin snaps out of it, Jeongguk’s belongings are tucked in his backpack.
He doesn’t say anything as he heads out, leaving Jimin alone at the table.
Alone with the iced coffee and a torrent of thoughts.
-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-
The glass in Jimin’s hand slips from his grip, and Taehyung barely manages to prevent it from tumbling onto the ground.
“Why are you downing these drinks like you just found out that your wife of eleven years cheated on you with your brother?” Taehyung tips a glass of water toward Jimin’s mouth.
After a few gulps, Jimin pushes his hand away, wiping the water off his chin.
“Because I found out something worse.” Jimin mumbles, hiding his face behind his palms.
“What do you mean?”
Yeah. What does he mean? The room sways slightly as Jimin breathes out.
“It’s about Jeongguk.”
“What about him?” Taehyung observes Jimin with apparent uncertainty, moving closer to keep the conversation at least a little more private.
“He’s here.” Jimin notes with a scowl.
Taehyung glances towards the left side of the table where Jeongguk sits with at least five empty glasses in front of him.
“I can see that.”
“And he didn’t greet me.” Jimin whines, snuggling against Taehyung who frowns at the complaint.
“You’re not exactly friends.”
“But we’re—” A hiccup breaks Jimin’s sentence. Thankfully, so. He has no idea what they are.
“He buys me coffee. Picks up my stuff from the ground. Even makes an effort to win the competition.” Jimin taps his foot against the ceramic floor with each sentence.
All while Taehyung awkwardly pats his back.
“But he can’t say hi?” With knitted brows, Jimin balances his empty glass on his palm.
“I think you’ve had enough for tonight.” Taehyung whispers to Jimin. “And tomorrow, when you’re sober, we’re going to talk about this.”
“About what?”
“Forget it. I’m going to the restroom and then we’re leaving.” He’s on his feet before his sentence is finished. Spotting the waiter, he motions to Jimin and signals no more drinks.
“Hey, I saw that.” Jimin grabs Taehyung’s wrist, but quickly lets go when Taehyung shoots him a warning glare.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
With a small nod, his friend disappears behind the restroom door. It’s loud in the restaurant. Some students are doing karaoke while others are playing card games. All of them have a beer or cocktail in hand.
Even Jeongguk.
He’s playing poker with a few people Jimin doesn’t recognize. Another group of students bursts into laughter, but Jeongguk doesn’t shift his focus away from his cards. His lips press together as he plans his next move.
The same lips that were dangerously close to his only hours ago.
“Hey.” An unfamiliar voice speaks behind his back, and Jimin turns around to meet the stranger. “You’re alone here?”
Blinking slowly, he examines the man, searching for signs of recognition. His clothes. His posture. His haircut.
Then it clicks.
“Hey.” His finger wags at the nameless man’s face, annoyance flaring inside of him. “You’re the dickhead who bumped into me in the hallway.”
Instead of an apology, the man laughs.
“I don’t think I did.” He leans against Jimin’s chair, invading his space. “I would have stopped for a pretty boy like you.”
“No, it was definitely you. I remember that uneven headshape.” In his drunken state, Jimin loses his decorum and draws an oval shape in the air, laughing at himself. “Like a cracked egg.”
The man’s forehead creases as his hand touches the back of his head.
“My what?” His palm feels around his head while Jimin continues to giggle to himself.
“Whatever. Want to get out of here?”
“Not with you.” Jimin snickers, moving his body away from the man.
“Why not? I’ll be good to you. At least for tonight.”
The man’s touch isn’t aggressive. But when his hand wraps around Jimin’s wrist, he can’t help but flinch at the unwelcome touch.
Feeling caged between the table and the man, Jimin gets up in an attempt to free himself.
However, the man’s fingers stay locked around his wrist.
“Man, fuck off.” Jimin twists his arm, hoping to loosen the grip. Unfortunately, the nameless man is stubborn.
“Don’t be so difficult.” He steps towards Jimin, a sleazy grin pulling at his lips.
Anger wins over rationality, and Jimin forcefully shoves him. The man stumbles backwards, his legs knocking over chairs.
Finally, his hand is released.
“I said fuck off, egghead.” Jimin hisses, getting ready to leave. He’s sobering up, and tired of this idiocy.
Something ugly flashes across the man’s expression. He staggers as he regains his balance. Jimin doesn’t pay attention to him and searches for the exit.
“Fucking son of a bitch.”
Jimin turns around to throw an insult back, but his head whips to the side, and a throbbing pain uncurls in his cheekbone.
Sharp gasps escape his lips, his trembling hands reaching for the sting.
That fucker just hit him.
Clenching his fists, Jimin squares his shoulders, ready to fight. But the man grunts, the back of his shirt yanked at, and falls to his back.
With Jeongguk on top of him, throwing punch after punch.
The restaurant falls into a hush. Only the sound of skin-on-skin contact echoes through the room. That is until one girl’s scream shatters the silence.
“Someone get Jeongguk off! He’s going to fucking break his nose at this point!”
And students rush to their side, trying to jerk Jeongguk off the man. Still, he vehemently resists, kicking at the man’s chest again and again.
“Let go—” Jeongguk thrashes against their grip. “Let go of me!”
Jimin watches in horror. The blood on Jeongguk’s knuckles. The wounds on the man’s face.
Yet, his feet move towards Jeongguk. No, they run until Jimin stands behind him.
“For fuck’s sake! Calm down!” He clutches his shoulders, forcing Jeongguk to whirl around. “Snap out of it!”
There’s a moment of clarity, but Jeongguk detects the bruise forming on Jimin’s face and attempts to get another strike in.
“Fuck him!” Jeongguk screams, and Jimin’s patience wears thin.
“That’s enough.”
With his fingers digging into Jeongguk’s skin, Jimin pulls him out of the restaurant. Surprisingly, there’s not a lot of resistance. He manages to get them to a dark alley where Jimin releases long, needed breaths.
Beside him, Jeongguk leans against the brick wall. His chest rises and falls at an unsteady rhythm.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Jimin fumes, a fine layer of sweat gathers across his forehead. “You didn’t have to go all—”
“Thank you!” Jeongguk yells, pushing himself off the wall. “Is it so hard to just say thank you?”
“You want me to thank you?” Jimin laughs with his head thrown back. “Jeongguk, he can sue you for assault. He’s bleeding in there!”
“I don’t care about him!”
The distance between them grows smaller with each shouted word. Even in the darkness, Jimin can see the redness on Jeongguk’s face.
“Then care about yourself! Think about what could happen once in a while!” His finger jabs Jeongguk’s chest.
“I think! I think about the what ifs, the should-haves and the impossible all! The! Time!” Jeongguk yells, tripping backwards.
“And this is the outcome? Throwing punches?”
“He punched you first!”
Their sentences are blending into one, and Jimin wants to pull his hair out, not understanding why Jeongguk cares so much.
Two days ago, Jeongguk was nothing but a classmate. His rival for top student.
And they don’t like each other.
They’re not supposed to like each other.
“What is it with you?” Jimin whispers as the words taste bitter on his tongue.
“Yeah, I wonder.” Jeongguk chuckles, sliding his palms over his face. “What is it with me?”
He takes shallow breaths. In the remote background, cars pass by, and drunk people loudly laugh and chat as they head home.
With conscious steps, Jeongguk approaches Jimin, his eyes fixed on him.
Jimin doesn’t know what to expect. Still, he stays rooted in place. His heart races up to his throat. But not in fear.
Very far from fear.
“I hate you.” He mutters. “I hate you, Jimin.”
Jeongguk’s large hands cradle Jimin’s jawline, and he crashes their lips together.
A spark ignites in Jimin’s body as his eyes flutter closed. Jeongguk’s kiss begins as nothing but a touch of their lips. However, as he realises that Jimin isn’t pulling away, the kiss grows more desperate.
Jeongguk kisses him as though he’s never desired anything else.
Without a single trace of hatred.
Their bodies press against each other. Jimin’s fingers clutch at Jeongguk’s shirt, pulling him closer. He brushes his lips across Jeongguk’s, welcoming the dizzy rush curling low in his stomach.
But Jeongguk slowly pulls back with creased eyebrows. His body shivers.
“You’re so infuriating. I—”
His words are cut off by Jimin’s lips. Jeongguk’s sharp breathing morphs into a muffled surprise.
Jimin doesn’t care to hear the rest.
They’ve crossed the line, and Jimin’s found himself intoxicated by it. Thankfully, Jeongguk tilts his head, deepening the kiss while his fingers comb into the hair at the nape of Jimin’s neck.
Softness, followed by rough kisses.
Gradually, strength begins to fade in Jimin’s knees. He leans into Jeongguk for support.
But Jimin still hasn’t had enough. His tongue swipes over Jeongguk’s bottom lip, and Jeongguk parts his lips without a second thought.
As their tongues meet, Jimin tastes the lingering flavor of beer. Something he usually doesn’t like. Yet, now, he wants to savor all of it.
“I seriously fucking hate you.” Jeongguk mutters against Jimin’s mouth, pecking his lips again and again. “So, so much.”
Jimin doesn’t mind being hated. If anything, he hopes Jeongguk doesn’t stop hating him tonight.
Heat gathers everywhere Jeongguk touches, and it feels like his hands are everywhere at once.
On Jimin’s face, his neck, his waist, his back.
His lungs burn for air, but neither wants to pull away.
The shrill sound of a phone echoes through the alley. But this time, neither Jimin nor Jeongguk allow the moment to be interrupted.
Their ragged breaths and softened moans blend into their kiss, lost in the presence of the other.
“Jimin?!” Taehyung shouts, both men jump at how close the voice sounds. “Are you here?”
With a quiet, wet smack, Jimin pushes Jeongguk away. His eyes are wide open, his lips covered in saliva. In front of him, Jeongguk tugs at his clothes, wiping at his face.
His heart skips a beat at the sight of a flushed Jeongguk with kiss-swollen lips, and Jimin hates it.
“Shit.” He whispers as he tries to compose himself. “This—Don’t tell Taehyung.”
While fixing his messy hair, Jeongguk nods.
“Didn’t plan on doing it.” He mutters, peeking down the alley where Taehyung comes running to them.
“Thank God! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” He tightly hugs Jimin before examining the wound on his face.
“Man, I want to kill him.” Taehyung hisses as he angles Jimin’s head to the side. “Seriously, what is his issue?”
After making sure Jimin is okay, Taehyung turns to Jeongguk who’s standing several steps away from the two friends.
“By the way, thank you for hitting him. Someone had to show him that no one is allowed to touch Jimin.”
“You’re welcome.” Jeongguk replies, hiding his expression behind his hand.
Jimin tries to focus on his friend instead of the remaining taste of Jeongguk.
“Well, I guess it’s time for me to go.” Jeongguk’s arms sway by his sides, his voice strained. “It’s late.”
“I think we’re all ready for bed.” Taehyung agrees and checks his phone. His arm is wrapped around Jimin, obviously regretting having left him at the table.
“Right. So. Bye, I guess.”
Jeongguk waves, walking out of the alley towards the main street with his back turned to them. Jimin thinks that he’s seen the last of Jeongguk’s face for tonight.
However, he turns around one last time and smiles at Jimin. Benign, really. Yet, Jimin can’t bring himself to return the gesture.
“Let’s go home, Jiminie.”
-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-
The afternoon sun shines into Jimin’s small apartment. He sits on his couch, watching TV. In his hands, he holds a bowl of cereal. A dull headache pulses behind his eyes.
Beside him, Taehyung stares at him and the purple bruise on his cheek, completely ignoring the TV show on the screen.
“Is there a reason you’re here to gawk at me?” Jimin takes a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
“Is there a reason why you made out with Jeongguk last night?”
The food in his mouth almost sprays across the table as all color fades from his face. He coughs between swallowing, patting his chest.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You had spit all over your lips. And said lips were super red. And Jeongguk’s too.” Taehyung nonchalantly rests his head against the back of the couch. “And you were kind of moaning.”
“Oh my god.”
Jimin leaves his bowl on the table and grabs a pillow, hiding his face in the soft material. And somehow, he believed they got away with it.
“I’m not judging.” Taehyung shrugs. “Just curious how we went from fuck Jeongguk to fuck Jeongguk, you know.”
Unfortunately for both of them, Jimin doesn’t know how he got here. So much and so little has happened in the past few days, yet it still led to last night happening.
“I’m not sure what happened.” Jimin starts, voice softer than before. “I just really liked kissing him.”
“That’s pretty superficial.”
Jimin groans into the pillow because he knows Taehyung is right.
“Hey. That’s kind of what you sounded like last night.”
The cushion from Jimin’s lap comes flying towards Taehyung who catches it between laughter.
“I’m serious, Tae!” Jimin whines, twisting his body to face his friend. “Like what is happening? Why am I doing things that I never do with a guy that I didn’t even like three days ago? Why am I thinking about him constantly?”
With a faint smile, Taehyung reaches out for Jimin’s hand.
“And why does it piss me off when he ignores me? And why does it make my heart race when he doesn’t? Nothing makes sense anymore. We used to be petty in the classroom. That’s all. And now we’re—God knows what.” Jimin is almost out of breath by the end of his rant, and a little stunned by his own words.
“Jimin, babe.” Taehyung slides closer to him, their hands interlocked. A chaotic action scene plays on the TV in the background.
“You simply have a crush.”
A crush.
A crush?
Jimin wants to laugh at the foolish notion. Instead, the couch suddenly feels too sticky, and his clothes cling too much to his skin. Not a single syllable passes his parted lips.
“And it’s totally fine because Jeongguk is attractive and he did punch a man for you.” Taehyung adds with a nod while he caresses Jimin in comfort.
He said it so effortlessly. However, things aren’t that simple. A crush means feelings. It means romantic emotions. It means heart skips a beat when—
Oh.
Oh God. Jimin has a crush.
“What do I do?” He whispers in fear, and Taehyung merely chuckles at him.
“I don’t think you have to do much.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You kissed each other. Obviously, there is mutual attraction.” Taehyung gets up from the couch. His footsteps are barely audible over the TV.
“So, he only wants me for my body.” Jimin’s hand flies to his mouth, and Taehyung can only roll his eyes. He grabs the cold water bottle from the kitchen counter and pours himself a drink.
“Didn’t you say, like, forty two seconds ago that you just really liked kissing him.” With his glass of water in hand, Taehyung watches Jimin’s expression soften a little.
“Are you my friend or Jeongguk’s?”
“Yours, of course. But I just don’t think you need to worry that much about what to do. Be you, and I’m sure it will work out.”
Easier said than done. Jimin’s been himself since the day he met Jeongguk, but there has never been a single moment where Jeongguk had an ounce of interest. It wasn’t until the assignment forced them into a partnership that all of this occurred in the first place.
“And what if it doesn’t?” Jimin mumbles, waiting for Taehyung to gulp down his water. The wait feels like an eternity, and a wave of anxiety prickles at his toes and fingertips.
“Then it doesn’t, and you try again when the time comes.” Taehyung says, putting down the glass.
Jimin’s shoulders drop. Perhaps there is no other way around it. Life has always been about taking risks.
And, if he decides to act on his feelings, he will just have to take a gamble.
“Poetic.” Jimin crosses his arms, his lips pouting. “And true, I guess.”
“Now that we are past the panic stage of this crush.” Taehyung grins widely as he returns to the couch. “How did the kiss happen?”
For a second, there’s a surge of warmth in Jimin. Usually, first kisses are a little chaotic. Two people trying to fit into each other’s pace. However, with Jeongguk, it all felt natural and really, really good.
Jimin smiles, but it quickly fades at the memory before the kiss.
“He told me he hated me, then kissed me.” Jimin puts his hand over his face. “And he still hasn't reached out to me.”
Maybe they’re not past the panic stage yet.
“Then text him?” Taehyung points to Jimin’s phone.
“I don’t have his number.” Jimin says under his breath. How embarrassing to have made out in a dark alley with someone and not even having his number.
Stupid Jeongguk.
“He’s active on Teams, isn’t he?” Taehyung nudges him with his elbow, but Jimin only glares at him.
“You want me to use Teams to ask him about our kiss?”
“No. Ask him for his number.” Taehyung specifies, and Jimin lets the thought settle.
“But on Teams?” He whines, too embarrassed to even consider it.
“You’re a lost cause.” Taehyung shakes his head and throws a pillow at Jimin. “Put your ego aside and—”
Jimin’s doorbell rings. The short song echoes through the apartment, and the two friends share a look.
“I’ll go check.” Taehyung says, and leaves Jimin alone in the living room. As he walks into the hallway, Jimin reaches for the remote to turn off the TV, listening to the distant noises by the front door.
Jimin pauses, confused when no voices follow. His walls aren’t thick enough to muffle noises like this.
Before he can make the decision to join Taehyung in the hallway, his friend returns to the living room. His expression is unreadable.
“Who was it?” Jimin raises his brow, still unsure what is going on. Why is Taehyung snatching his jacket and car keys?
“I’m going home.” He puts his jacket on, and flat-out ignores the question which only causes Jimin to begin worrying.
“Was the grim reaper at my door? Or what’s going on?”
Jimin stands up, approaching Taehyung while he tries to peek into the hallway. However, his friend blocks his view and puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Just be you, Jiminie.” Taehyung says with a tightened smile.
“Pardon?” Jimin scrunches his face.
“Be you.” His friend repeats, and Jimin thinks he’s completely lost his mind.
“Are you on drugs?” He checks Taehyung’s pupils, but finds nothing out of the ordinary.
“Bye, Jimin!” With a small kiss to the forehead, Taehyung makes his way towards the hallway. As he passes by the living room’s door, he pivots towards the corner.
“Bye, Jeongguk.”
Jimin scrunches his nose, thinking he misheared his friend. Why would Jeongguk suddenly be at his apartment? No, in his apartment?
“Should I drive you—” His words get caught in his throat as Jeongguk steps into the doorframe with a small paper bag in his hand.
The front door shuts behind the two men.
“Jeongguk?” Jimin whispers, glancing down at his pajamas. Of course, he’s wearing pants with baby bunnies on them. He nibbles at his bottom lip, folding his arms in front of himself.
“Hey.” Jeongguk nods. “Sorry for barging in like this.”
“All good.” Jimin breathes out but stops for a beat. “Wait, how do you know where I live?”
Jeongguk scratches the nape of his neck, avoiding Jimin’s gaze.
“I’ve asked around.”
“Oh, okay.” With anyone else, Jimin would have felt freaked out by the revelation and kicked the person out before another word could be said. However, with Jeongguk, a glimmer of hope flickers in his chest.
“Want to drink something?” He walks to the open kitchen with rosy cheeks.
“No, thank you. How’s your cheekbone?” Jeongguk trails behind Jimin, but keeps a safe gap between them.
“It’s fine.” Jimin quickly replies, pushing the memory of their kiss that followed after the initial punch into the back of his mind.
“Have you put ointment on it yet?”
Jimin almost takes a sip from an empty glass. Jeongguk’s concern and his presence are all very overwhelming right now. His mind is screaming a million things at him.
“No. I don’t think I even have it at home.” He strokes his wound. The sting is bearable, but the appearance is definitely bound to catch unwanted attention.
Jeongguk clears his throat.
“You do. I mean—I brought you some.” He hands the paper bag to Jimin who inspects it. A sense of uncertainty clouds his thoughts.
Whether Jeongguk is being nice, or actively showing interest in him, Jimin can’t say for sure. And it’s making him question every little detail.
“Thank you.” Jimin takes the cream out of the paper bag. It’s an expensive one.
“You should put it on.” Jeongguk signals to his face, but Jimin places it on his kitchen table instead.
“I’ll do it later.”
Jimin fears he will embarrass himself in front of Jeongguk if he were to put it on now. Like, getting too much product on his finger or somehow applying it on the wrong spot.
“No, do it now.” Jeongguk grabs the ointment, opening it.
The concern from Jeongguk still feels unfamiliar. At the same time, it leaves a sweet taste in his mouth.
“I’ll do it after you leave.” Jimin tries to wave it off as Jeongguk steps towards him. Has his kitchen always been small?
“Let me help you then.” Jeongguk insists and squeezes the cream onto his fingertip.
“Sorry, what?”
Within seconds, Jeongguk stands directly in front of Jimin, his finger raised to the bruise. Jimin blinks once, twice.
His mind races through thousands of excuses. Touches make him uncomfortable. They’re not close enough. The consistency of cream against his skin makes him cringe.
Yet, Jimin never says anything. He tilts his head to the side, giving Jeongguk the green light to smear the ointment on his cheekbone.
A timid grin hides in Jeongguk’s frown as he focuses on gently rubbing the skin.
Meanwhile Jimin tries to find an anchor in anything else in his apartment. But his TV is off. The streets are quiet. The lights are not too bright, or too dim.
The only senses he can rely on are his sight and touch. Both are consumed by Jeongguk.
“I’m sorry for scaring you.” Jeongguk suddenly apologizes, carefully tracing over Jimin’s wound. “And for screaming at you.”
A wave of relief washes over Jimin when Jeongguk doesn’t apologize for the kiss.
That means he doesn’t regret it. At least, that’s what Jimin hopes.
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have screamed at you like that.” Jimin mumbles, wincing quietly as Jeongguk rubs over the center of his bruise. “Even though you were being an idiot.”
Jeongguk laughs with his upper teeth showing, appearing younger with his bunny teeth.
With a quick glimpse of his pants, Jimin can only giggle to himself.
“Rich of you calling me an idiot when you were downing pure tequila shots.” Jeongguk retorts. However, there’s no bite in his words.
“Well, the only reason I was downing those shots was because—”
Jeongguk cocks an eyebrow, waiting for Jimin to finish his sentence. But, he can’t exactly tell Jeongguk that he was pissed about being ignored.
“Because I was worried about the poem.”
Good save, academic loser.
“In that case…” Jeongguk’s finger dabs Jimin’s face one last time before he retraces his steps. “I will come pick you up at noon tomorrow. And then we can work some more on the poem.”
Another study date? Or, not really a date. But a date for Jimin.
“Sounds good.” Jimin breathes out, gripping the edge of his kitchen counter.
“Don’t be late.” Jeongguk attempts to poke his sides, but Jimin dodges the touch with a smirk.
“It was one time.”
“You made me wait!” Jeongguk exclaims in an offended tone. Jimin only scoffs at the immaturity while shaking his head.
“You’re impossible.”
The two men continue their conversation for a little bit longer, mostly talking about the poem and Jimin’s complete inability to be on time.
While they continue to nag at each other, arguing about the most insignificant things, their words carry a more gentle tone. And neither seems genuinely insulted anymore.
Jeongguk’s stay lasts around fifteen minutes. Technically enough time to set their relationship straight. To ask the right questions.
Still, they don’t mention the kiss. So, when Jeongguk leaves, Jimin spends the rest of the day thinking.
And the rest of the night too.
-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-
“I’m not getting on that death sentence.”
“It’s a motorcycle.”
Jimin and Jeongguk stand before a black motorcycle with two helmets sitting on top of the seat. This is absolutely not happening.
“Pretty sure that’s what I said.” Jimin’s arms are crossed, keeping a safe distance between him and the vehicle.
“Are you scared?” Jeongguk laughs, leaning back with his elbows resting on his bike.
No, Jimin isn’t necessarily scared. He merely didn’t expect Jeongguk to show up with this when he said he’ll pick Jimin up. There was no time for mental preparation here.
“I’m not reckless. That’s all.” Jimin has never been on a motorcycle, and he doesn’t think today will change that.
“You don’t need to worry. All you have to do is tightly hold on to me, and you’ll be safe.”
Jeongguk’s jacket slips open, and his slim waist comes into Jimin’s view.
“Okay.”
Perhaps he’s weaker than anticipated.
Jimin walks towards the motorcycle with shaky legs. Every step makes him more aware of how little space there will be between them.
“Does this thing have a seatbelt?” His words become muffled as Jeongguk puts the helmet on him, chuckling at his question.
The helmet is heavier than expected. The face shield tints the world around him.
“No. I’m your seatbelt.” Jeongguk answers as he secures the chin strap.
“That sounds horrifying.” Jimin mumbles, but it goes unheard.
Jeongguk puts on his helmet as well and swings his leg over his motorbike. For a moment, Jimin pauses, admiring the scenery.
Taehyung was right. Nothing wrong about having a crush on an attractive man.
“Need help getting on?” Jeongguk asks, patting the empty space behind him.
“I got it. Thanks.” Jimin replies and climbs on behind Jeongguk.
It’s just like riding an ordinary bike. Only this bike can go up to two hundred kilometers per hour, possibly killing him. Best Jimin doesn’t know.
“Wrap your arms around me.” Jeongguk’s hand closes around his wrist, gently pulling Jimin’s arm to the front. “And don’t let me go.”
Jimin does as told and hugs Jeongguk’s upper body, ignoring the tingle spreading through him.
Hopefully, it’s a short ride.
Jeongguk starts the motor, the strong vibration blending into Jimin’s anxiety. The engine roars beneath him. Instinctively, he draws into himself beneath the unknown noise and vibration.
This isn’t going to work.
Fear claws its way into his chest, certain it’ll make him lose balance and fall. Walking would have been the safer option.
“We’re going!” Jimin can hardly hear Jeongguk’s voice over the engine.
The motorcycle starts moving. The wind flutters through Jimin’s clothes and raises goosebumps along his forearms.
The sensation is similar to a roller coaster. Only there is no drop, no loop. Jimin’s worries vanish with the breeze. One after the other.
It’s just him with Jeongguk in his arms.
Jimin starts laughing. All of his concerns are replaced with adrenaline, and he can’t stop enjoying the moment. His laughter probably goes unheard due to the surrounding noises.
Still, underneath Jimin’s hands, thumping at a rapid pace, he feels Jeongguk’s heartbeat.
With a quick stopover at a supermarket, the ride lasts for around twenty-five minutes and ends by the park beside the river. For obvious reasons, they didn’t talk to each other too much during that time. Yet, this time, the silence felt soothing.
Jeongguk parks his motorcycle by the street and steadies Jimin as he steps off. A quick snap, and the helmet is off his head. Jimin blinks a few times to adjust to the sunlight while fresh air fills his lungs.
“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jeongguk opens the storage of his bike, drawing his backpack out.
“No, it was fun.” Jimin turns around. The park is quiet today. However, it becomes unbearably noticeable that it’s mostly just couples here.
“This is…” Romantic. “Quite the view.”
“I figured a change of scenery would help us with creativity.” Jeongguk says, carrying his bag and the two helmets.
“Give me something to carry.” Jimin holds his hand out, but Jeongguk shakes his head.
“No, it’s fine.”
“Your hand is shaking and turning red. Stop being macho and give me at least my helmet.” The words leave his mouth harsher than intended.
Jimin freezes. Today, he was supposed to show Jeongguk the best side of him. A version of him that doesn’t need to add a witty comment to everything.
Unfortunately, this proves to be a challenge.
“I mean—Let me help you.” He utters with a low voice. “Please.”
“I think that’s the first time you said please to me.” Jeongguk snickers, handing the helmet over to Jimin.
“You make it sound like I have no manners.” Jimin tucks it under his arms and follows Jeongguk into the park.
“That’s your conclusion. Not mine.” He whips his head around with a smile, and the sun shines bright behind him.
“Whatever that means.”
The two men wander deeper into the park, stopping by a bench to search for a good place to do their assignment. Jeongguk scans the area with his palm blocking the brightness.
Meanwhile, Jimin’s focus doesn’t lie with where they’ll be working. Rather, he wonders about the location overall. He counts the couples. At least thirteen are here.
Is it really just a change of scenery?
Jeongguk points to an empty spot next to a tree, close to the river, and they agree to go there.
“Have you thought about how to continue the poem?” Jeongguk asks, placing his belongings against the tree.
“A little bit.”
A lie. Jimin spent all day and night sorting these newly discovered feelings.
“I think I have an idea on how to continue.” They take out their notebooks and pens before sitting down on the grass. “But I’m struggling with connecting it to our opening.”
Jeongguk opens his book and places it between them.
“Show me what you got then.” Jimin takes a look at Jeongguk’s notes, skimming through them.
Unrequited love is sweet when the other person doesn’t know. Turning bitter when they know. And only ever knows, without reciprocating the feelings. Then, it burns.
Jimin reads the lines again and again, fear uncurling in his stomach. What if the tingles, flushed cheeks, and excitement burn him at the end?
What if he wonders whether Jeongguk’s actions are acts of courtesy or hints of attraction until his mind is nothing but a file cabinet for questions without answers?
Even now, they sit together, shoulders grazing. Three days ago, both would have pulled away at the touch.
Today, it lingers. It lingers enough to have Jimin lose his focus on the words.
Against his will, his mind goes back to the night in the alley. Jeongguk’s harsh words, but tender kisses. And Jimin can’t stop questioning it.
“Why did you kiss me?”
His words are a surprise to both Jeongguk and himself. He’s definitely meant to keep his thoughts to himself. He isn’t prepared to hear the answer to his curiosity. Jeongguk clearly wasn’t prepared for the question either.
Panic rushes through Jimin’s veins, and he shifts in his seat.
“Sorry. Ignore that.” He chuckles, but it sounds unnatural. “About your notes—”
“No.” Jeongguk closes his notepad, clutching it in his hands. “Let me answer that.”
He throws it next to his bag.
Jimin attempts to appear nonchalant, but his heart is drumming against his ribcage. The leaves above their heads rustle as Jeongguk twists his body to properly face Jimin.
“Jimin, you…” Jeongguk runs his hands through his hair. “You piss me off so much.”
Okay. Not a good start for Jimin. A lump forms in his throat.
“I mean, you’re not the only person who does. But we do argue over stupid shit all the time. And, we throw all kinds of insults at each other.”
Jeongguk’s words are truthful, and that’s what makes it worse. They never gave each other the chance to like each other. But, somehow, Jimin beat the odds.
However, he isn’t given any time to grieve the decisions from his past self because a shy pinky finger hooks around Jimin’s.
“But, I like that you never let me win a fight. That you bite as hard as I do.” Jeongguk clears his throat. “And I’m not sure when, but I started looking for you in the crowds.”
Jimin glances at their hands, and gulps.
“But I think I never really realized that there was more. Until that piece of shit laid his hand on you, that is.” Jeongguk is avoiding Jimin’s face, keeping his head low.
“What I’m trying to say is that I kissed you because I was overwhelmed by the realization of these—” Jeongguk coughs, and Jimin detects his red ears.
“Feelings?” Jimin finishes the sentence, his earlier dread forgotten.
“Yeah, feelings.”
Finally, Jeongguk lifts his head, studying Jimin’s face. His eyebrows. His eyes shaped like crescent moons. His warm cheeks.
And his bright grin which Jimin can’t contain.
“What’s so funny?” Jeongguk tilts his head with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Nothing. I’m just smiling.” Jimin responds, his chest heating up with each passing second.
“Smiling for what?” Jeongguk lets go of Jimin’s pinky, and bashfully interlocks their hands. An alien gesture that Jimin can see himself get addicted to.
“Can’t I just be happy?”
Jeongguk draws small circles with his thumb on Jimin’s skin.
“You do.” He takes a deep breath. “This is just the first time I’ve seen you smile like that.”
A reminder of how elementary their feelings are. They have yet to discover mundane things about each other.
“We’re going to have to take baby steps to this love thing.” Jimin bites his bottom lip.
It would be a lie to say that they’re in love. Still, they have feelings for each other. And that’s all that matters for now.
“Are you saying you’re not hopelessly in love with me yet?” Jeongguk acts offended, letting go of Jimin’s hand to flex his biceps. Jimin laughs, hiding his mouth behind his hand.
“Not yet. You need to work on your flexing first.” Jimin says between giggles as Jeongguk eventually puts his arms down.
“But you do have a crush on me, right?” He asks, closing the gap between their faces.
“Obviously.”
“Okay. Cool.” Jeongguk swipes his tongue over his lips. “And that obviously means I can kiss you?”
-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-
“Did you know that I had to bribe the dude who sits next to you in this class to switch seats with me?” Jeongguk slumps into his seat, grabbing the back of Jimin’s chair to pull him closer.
“What can I say? Your boyfriend is desired.” Jimin says with a wink, and Jeongguk throws his head back with a scowl.
“I’m cuffing you to me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jimin rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face betrays him.
“Ridiculous? I just lost 30 bucks to sit here.” Jeongguk takes Jimin’s hand in his, placing it on his lap.
“And won a seat next to your boyfriend. Now, stop complaining.” Jimin leans towards him to kiss him, and Jeongguk meets him halfway.
It’s nothing more than a quick touch of their lips.
“You guys are gross.” Taehyung sits on the other side of Jimin with arms crossed. He looks deeply unimpressed.
“You’ll get used to it.” Jeongguk shrugs, leaving more kisses on Jimin’s cheek.
“It’s been five months already and I still cringe at you.” Taehyung’s words hold no menace. Just mental fatigue of third wheeling too many times.
“Sounds like a you problem.” Jeongguk mutters between pecks.
“Jeongguk.” Jimin warns him, placing his hand between his face and Jeongguk’s lips.
“Yes, my love?”
For a moment, Jimin forgets what he was about to say. Too distracted by his ridiculously pretty boyfriend.
“Again, gross.” Taehyung mumbles, resting his forehead against his desk.
Beside him, Jimin and Jeongguk bicker over where to go for their next date.
-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-
My heart, even though certain of its journey’s end, is lost. It leaves traces of its existence. In the meals. In the letters. In the stolen glances. Yet, it continues to walk in circles, stumbling over its own fragments. It knows its haven, but not which path to take.
My heart wails, lonely as its size diminishes with each trace it leaves behind. Soon, its path is nothing but a field of obstacles. It falls, and falls, and falls until it dares to pivot away from its beaten way. Unfamiliarity haunts its vision. Still, it no longer collapses over its own existence.
My heart travels an uncharted trail, not knowing whether it will ever find its final stop. Fear gnaws at its form. Despite it all, it continues frightenedly.
My heart wanders. Perhaps, it will arrive at its destination. Even if it isn’t its journey’s end.
1st Prize Winner: Park Jimin and Jeon Jeongguk