Chapter Text
Jungkook remembers when Taehyung first joined. He's got no qualms about admitting this, at least in private and/or to Yoongi hyung, but he hadn't thought the guy would last past the probation period. It wasn't even really about the work. Taehyung was a relationship manager, so his obvious extroversion was probably a plus. It wasn't his dress shirts, either; the brightly coloured patterns sore against the muted blue colouring of the office. It was just—him. His slow, drawling way of speaking, how he seemed to need to chat everyone up whenever he walked past, how his desk was this bright, sore spot that Jungkook squinted at every morning.
Bangtan described itself as a small but growing communications advisory firm, and it operated at a pace that not many could keep up with. They'd used to have a smaller studio space, with a cramped room for the CEO, Kim Namjoon, a narrow pantry, one disabled access bathroom, and a crowded cubicle floor for the staff. Their growth had brought in almost twice the personnel, and with that, the need for a larger office space. Their new office was on the fourteenth floor of a commercial building, which meant they had men's and women's bathrooms along with the disabled access set-up. Namjoon had splurged for five rooms bookmarking the main floor; one his own office, another the office of a managing director, Kim Seokjin, two meeting rooms, and a final room that served as a common room slash pantry and was mostly relevant to Jungkook as the place where the coffee machine and fridge were kept. All in all, the new office was sweet, and after two years at this gig, Jungkook was mighty pleased that he could finally properly stretch his legs out.
He was in the marketing intelligence team, led by another MD at the office, a surly but keenly intelligent man by the name of Min Yoongi. It had taken Jungkook about two months to realise that he had scored the easiest boss ever. Yoongi hyung didn't care if you showed up late, or if you took a coffee or smoke break, or whether you wore headphones all day or gabbed someone's ear off, so long as you got the work done. More than that, he wasn't a slouch; most times, if Jungkook or Jinyoung stayed behind, Yoongi would often be there too, taking on whatever he could to get everyone home.
Jungkook had come in as an associate, initially pitching in frequently with the various press releases and decks that came their way, with the financial news monitoring comprising only the mornings of his role. Then, an opening in the MI team had Jungkook taking on some of their slack. A few unsuccessful interviews with outside candidates later, Yoongi had sat him down and asked him forthright if he'd be open to switching to just MI. Jungkook had agreed and not looked back since. Sure, he still occasionally helped with the design mock-ups—he had a passion for, quite sincerely, graphic design—but most of his days were spent slogging through news portals, financial calendars, AI tools, and market analytics to put together intelligence briefs for their clients. He liked the routine of it, liked that every morning, by 10 am, he'd have done 20% of the day's work. Then, before lunch, for the next batch of clients, 40% of his work would be done. He could go to the gym during his lunch hour (Yoongi hyung never minded if he ran over), and then come back and get the briefs ready to go out at 6 pm. Usually, he was out of the office at any time between 6:30-9:00. Sure, the hours could be long sometimes, but the pay was good, and a few years of this would set Jungkook up enough to go into something more remote, giving him what any kid of his generation truly wanted: to get to the end of the grind.
Kim Taehyung shouldn't have changed any of that. When he'd come in for his interview, it had been in the middle of May, and most everyone was out of the office, visiting clients and organising documents for the end-of-year reports. Jungkook had needed to let Taehyung in, and the man had grinned, ombre-ish hair flat over his forehead. Namjoon hyung had been on a call, the deep timbre of his voice curling around English words that told Jungkook he best wait.
So he'd put Taehyung in a meeting room, shut the door, and headed back to his desk. A minute later, he'd gotten up with a sigh, walking back to the meeting room and opening the door. Taehyung had been sitting there, cheery as anything, as Jungkook flicked on the lights and air-conditioning, asking after he'd set the AC on high if he wanted water or coffee. At that, Taehyung had taken out a strawberry milk box and proceeded to wave it in the air, saying he was all set. Jungkook was partial to banana milk himself, and he'd opted for a placid nod before exiting. Leaving the room, he'd made eye contact with Jackson hyung, sitting at the opposite side of the office, and he'd grimaced.
And maybe that's the sticking point. He'd grimaced then, and he's been unable to stop since, on all matters pertaining to one Kim Taehyung. It's not that he actively dislikes him or anything, but. But. The MI team's cubicles are on the far right of the office, eight blocks stacked in twos. The floor itself has four sections, each with eight blocks stacked in two. Jungkook's cubicle buddy is Mark, and while they do exchange banter and chat, with all the printouts Mark's stuck up on his side, he doesn't usually see him, nor his desk. Jungkook considered himself lucky too, that on his other side, there was a vacant cubicle. With a quiet Yoongi hyung behind him and their Bloomberg machine in front of him, he had a relatively quiet and private area.
And then Seokjin hyung had brought Taehyung around and told him that the spot next to Jungkook's was to be his cubicle. And yeah, it was the relationship managers' cluster but oh my God, Taehyung was his own breed. His desk was as cluttered as could be. Jungkook himself had a number of bibelots on his desk, but Taehyung's was packed with figurines—some of it merch clients had given him at their roadshows and events, others his own figurines. Jungkook had always thought Seokjin hyung's collection of Mario figurines was a lot, but at least they were organised. Taehyung's desk was overrun with documents and sticky notes and client ESG reports and press releases and a bloody twelve-pack of strawberry milk. Just looking over at Taehyung's desk was an eyesore, but then Taehyung had to go ahead and be an unrepentant social butterfly. Colleagues came by his desk all the time, all the outgoing people of the office finding a focal point at Taehyung's desk. And it wasn't like Jungkook was some nervy I-need-silence introvert. He'd outgrown that in like, high school. He liked to chat, liked to yap, had been known to gab, but by God was it incessant.
He supposed what annoyed him more was how quickly Taehyung won everyone over. He was already practically BFFs with Jimin, who Jungkook had considered a good work friend and hyung up until he'd told Jungkook that he'd been the one to initially reference Taehyung to Namjoon. Seokjin hyung thought Taehyung was a sweet kid, Hoseok hyung thought he was a cute dongsaeng, Namjoon hyung stopped by to talk about the latest basketball game with him occasionally, Jackson, BamBam and him went out for drinks—even Mark, sober, generally quiet Mark had mentioned that they gamed together sometimes. Mark—who'd taken a year to give Jungkook his game handle.
The only person on his side was Yoongi, and that was only because Yoongi was lazy enough about forming opinions of people that Jungkook's griping one late night at the office had been enough to sway him to not engage much with the guy. And though the allyship wasn't exactly sincere, it was better than nothing.
So it went that it had been six months since Taehyung had first walked through the doors, and Jungkook still didn't really engage with him outside of a "hey" if they passed each other going into the bathroom. Taehyung chatted to him, sure, would get off a call and turn and say, "Jungkookie, you wouldn't believe what she's upset about!" And Jungkook would go, "oh, yeah? Damn," and eventually someone else—usually Jeongyeon noona—would ask Taehyung what he meant, and he'd shift his focus away and Jungkook could go back to pretending Taehyung didn't exist. It was a perfectly reasonable arrangement, with the only way it could improve being that (a) Taehyung quit, (b) Jungkook quit, or (c) it turned out that Taehyung had lied about his age and he was in fact younger than Jungkook. Because, yeah, here was the other thing: Taehyung was his hyung, senior by two years. While their company operated on a pretty flat structure—everyone chipped in, it came with the industry—they were still Korean, and want though he did, he couldn't ignore Taehyung the way, say, Yoongi ignored everyone.
Whatever. He'd gotten by and he'd keep doing so, and they were in different departments, anyway. It didn't matter.
SUBJECT: Meeting re JYP
FROM: Kim Namjoon [[email protected]]
TO: Park Jimin [[email protected]], Kim Taehyung [[email protected]], Jeon Jungkook [[email protected]]
BODY:
Could everyone meet me in my office in 15 mins?
Thanks,
Namjoon
Goddamnit.
Jungkook tucks his laptop under his arm, a notepad atop it, and heads in. Jimin's already there, and Namjoon looks up from his collapsible desk to greet him in his usual, semi-distracted tone. "Hey, how's everything?"
Namjoon's been travelling a lot these days, going back and forth between Japan and Korea, Beijing and Korea, New York and Korea, and it's been a minute since they've caught up.
"Same old," Jungkook says. "How was Thailand?"
"Ugh, don't remind me," Namjoon says. "It's over; that's all that matters."
Jungkook's always admired Namjoon. Everything about him is so—accomplished. Scholarship to America right out of high school, built his own company by 23, took full reins of Bangtan at 28. Jungkook had had a ton of interviews before he'd looked into Bangtan. He'd been courted by two of the big four, and when he'd walked into the tiny office Bangtan had had then for his interview with Namjoon, he'd thought, "eh, this'll be good practice for the real thing."
Then, he'd met him and spoken to him for all of ten minutes before he realised that this would be a contender. Namjoon was frighteningly intelligent and had assembled a team that reflected it. Bangtan's growth had been no accident, and Jungkook had left the interview thinking: "fuck. How am I gonna tell my parents that I'm turning down the big four?"
"Hey, hey," Taehyung says, walking into the room. He's brought his Microsoft Surface Pro with him and is holding it precariously in his arms as he sits down on the couch.
"Hey Tae. Thanks everyone for coming in so quick." Namjoon moves out from behind his desk, coming over to the couch with a writing pad. He flicks through a few pages, and Jungkook takes that moment to realise that the pink things on Taehyung's dress shirt are flamingos. He closes his eyes briefly, considering transcendental meditation. Namjoon's voice has him opening his eyes again as he begins, "So here's what's happening."
The gist of it is that JYP, a long-term client, is organising a summit, another venture into thought leadership spearheaded by their lowkey narcissistic CEO, Park Jinyoung. He wants to promote it in a huge way, which is why Jimin from the events team is here. Taehyung is here because he's handling JYP while Jackson is out on paternity leave. Jungkook is here because...
"You built out the previous audit, and they want us to do a full throttle media analysis of previous summits, focusing on their biggest peers, SM, YG, CUBE, and the like," Namjoon explains.
"Huh. That's beyond their current package," Jimin says. "Are we doing this ad hoc?"
"No, no. We're adding this to the contract. If the summit goes well, it may be a bi-annual event on their calendar. It's a good potential investment for us. We already know Jinyoung's more than willing to blow through cash if it validates his ego. So—"
"Let's validate his ego?" Jungkook ventures.
"Yep," Namjoon says. "He wants the event management services pitch in a week. The summit's a few months away, but they're trying to get their ducks in a row with the other vendors, so the PR strategy is still a little undeveloped. He wants a lot of media coverage. Jimin, see about getting an exclusive partner, someone big who Jinyoung hasn't already burned bridges with."
"That narrows it down," Jimin mutters.
"Taehyung, get ahead on the content. Recruit BamBam if you need someone to look the English PRs over. Get in touch with Jinyoung; you know the drill."
"Yep, got it."
"Jungkook, uh, maybe bring in an analyst to consolidate the content. I know this isn't your usual gig, but at a high level, get it all done within—let's say a week? 10 days?"
"Sure," Jungkook says.
"You should ask Seungkwan," Taehyung suggests. "He's great at the design stuff."
"Mmhmm, sure," Jungkook says, still making a note of what Namjoon had said. Seungkwan, the new kid, right. He sits on the other side of the office, but Jungkook knows that he's already worked on a couple of big projects.
They disperse soon after, Jungkook deciding to get started on it after lunch. The events team sits on the other end of the office, so Jimin walks on ahead, but Jungkook and Taehyung have to go down the same row to get to their seats, and there's an awkward dance as they simultaneously gesture for the other to go ahead before Jungkook scuttles quickly along.
"Hey, let me create a chat group for us," Taehyung says from behind him.
Jungkook settles down on his swivel chair before raising an eyebrow. "What for?"
Taehyung blinks. "Uh, for the event? So we can keep each other updated."
Jungkook reconnects his laptop to the desktop monitor. "Uh-huh, but none of my stuff is going to factor into yours or Jimin hyung's event planning. All you'll need is the completed deck from my desk, once it's done."
"I—yeah, good point." Taehyung's eyebrows knit together. "It might be good though, for like, if Jinyoung-ssi gives me any info that helps...okay, never mind. I'll just email you if anything comes up." He turns away then, moving a few items around his desk. Jungkook shifts to face his own screen, feeling kinda...mean. He's technically correct, sure. But not—socially correct, no. He hears movement from behind him and then Taehyung's walking down the row, going to the bathroom apparently.
Very quietly, Jungkook swears under his breath.
He scrummages around for a pad of sticky notes, finding one behind his calendar and bringing out a pen. He scrawls, quickly, before he can overthink it: If something imp. comes up followed by his number. After a beat of hesitation, he puts his name below it. Then, before he can overthink it any more, he wheels the short distance over to Taehyung's desk and slaps the post-it smack centre on his desktop monitor, just about the only space on that desk that isn't already occupied.
Scurrying back, he checks the time. 12:06. He pivots, tapping the top of Yoongi's cubicle. Yoongi looks up, then takes an earbud out.
"Yeah?"
"Heading for an early gym sesh," Jungkook says, "cool?"
Yoongi sighs quietly, "yeah, yeah. Do what you gotta do, just don't tell me."
Jungkook bites back his grin. "Just don't want you calling me in the middle of a set again."
"One time, Jungkook." Yoongi puts his earbud back in, repeating in a muttered undertone, eyes already back on his own desktop, "one time."
Jungkook's just heading out of the gym when he gets the notification that he's been added to a group. The title is a tame "JYP Fintech Summit", and he's been added by an unknown number. Taehyung, then. He readjusts the strap of his gym bag over his shoulder, and pockets his phone.
When he re-enters the office, tapping his keycard to get in, he doesn't see Taehyung at his desk. Small mercies. Jungkook puts his gym bag away and takes out the protein powder pack he keeps in the office, a bland chocolate flavoured powder. He measures and scoops out a portion into his bottle, then heads to the pantry to fill it up. As he's pressing the button to dispense water, he hears from behind him, "Excuse me, Jungkook-ssi."
He turns, and sees Seungkwan standing there.
"Oh, uh, hi." Jungkook says.
"Taehyung hyung told me that we'll be working on the media analysis together. Um, he briefed me already about the event, so just let me know what you need me to do." Seungkwan says. "I'm not super busy over the next few days."
"Yep, awesome. Let me get started and I'll let you know." Jungkook says. He closes his lid over the bottle, smiling reassuringly at Seungkwan as the man takes his leave. As he walks back to his desk, he shakes the bottle and pretends it's Taehyung, a tiny figurine version of him in the bottle instead of the shaker.
Jungkook's just heading out of the gym when he gets the notification that he's been added to a group. The title is a tame "JYP Fintech Summit," and he's been added by an unknown number. Taehyung, then. He readjusts the strap of his gym bag over his shoulder and pockets his phone.
When he re-enters the office, tapping his keycard to get in, he doesn't see Taehyung at his desk. Small mercies. Jungkook puts his gym bag away and takes out the protein powder pack he keeps in the office, a bland chocolate-flavoured powder. He measures and scoops out a portion into his bottle, then heads to the pantry to fill it up. As he's pressing the button to dispense water, he hears from behind him, "Excuse me, Jungkook-ssi."
He turns and sees Seungkwan standing there.
"Oh, uh, hi," Jungkook says.
"Taehyung hyung told me that we'll be working on the media analysis together. Um, he briefed me already about the event, so just let me know what you need me to do," Seungkwan says. "I'm not super busy over the next few days."
"Yep, awesome. Let me get started and I'll let you know," Jungkook says. He closes the lid over the bottle, smiling reassuringly at Seungkwan as the man takes his leave. As he walks back to his desk, he shakes the bottle and pretends it's Taehyung, a tiny figurine version of him in the bottle instead of the shaker.
Taehyung returns from lunch with Jimin and Hoseok in tow. They chat amicably in the pantry for a while longer, and Taehyung returns to his seat at 1:12 pm. While the office isn't small, it's not so big that conversations don't travel, so Jungkook walks over to his delightfully nosy coworker's desk, plants a hand flat against the stack of PRs there, leans down, and says in a low tone, "Let me talk to you in the meeting room for a minute."
Taehyung had startled when the hand came down, but at the request, his eyes go a little wide, and he nods only after a very obvious pause. Like Jungkook said: slowwwww.
Both meeting rooms are free, so Jungkook takes him to the one nearest to the MI team, closing the door behind them.
Aware that the walls aren't soundproofed, Jungkook speaks in a moderate tone as he asks, "Why did you tell Seungkwan that I'd be taking him on for this project?"
Taehyung's expression shifts from confusion to a slightly less panicked confusion. "Because you are? And I was talking to him anyway, about—"
"I never said I'd take him on."
"Yes, you did. In the meeting just now."
"No. You suggested him, and I said sure, but I didn't plan on bringing him on," Jungkook says.
"...What?"
"I was going to bring Hansol on," Jungkook says. "The other analyst? JYP's gonna want media analysis on some American competitors too, and Hansol's fluent."
"Oh," Taehyung says flatly. "Okay," he drawls the word out. "That makes sense. Okay. So I shouldn't have told Seungkwan." He nods. "You could have told me you were planning on Hansol."
"What?"
"Communication? It's a two-way street?" Taehyung points out. "You ever go down it?"
"Oh, haha." Jungkook pronounces snarkily. "Very nice. For the record, it only occurred to me at the gym."
Taehyung's mouth parts and then closes as the man frowns thoughtfully.
"No smart remark?" Jungkook presses.
"Actually, no," Taehyung admits, the easy cadence of it surprising Jungkook a bit, making his own reaction feel a tad overblown. He pats Jungkook's shoulder. "I'll tell Seungkwan, phrase it in a pretty way, put him on something else." In a confiding undertone—despite the fact that there's literally no one in the room—he adds, "Seungkwan's a little sensitive."
Blinking, Jungkook goes, "Okay." After another second, he adds, "Thanks."
"Eh, it's literally my job to soothe ruffled feathers." Taehyung grins then, that wholesale spread of teeth that's so ridiculously and abruptly there that it feels like it has to be ingenuine.
Jungkook nods.
"Sorry for jumping the gun," Taehyung says, and then gets up from his seat. Jungkook himself hasn't even sat down yet. "Is there anything else?"
"Uh, no," Jungkook says. Why does he feel awkward? Like he's been melodramatic?
"Listen, uh," Jungkook says as Taehyung reaches for the door handle. "I've maybe been snippy with you just now. And earlier."
Taehyung's eyes raise heavenward as the man thinks that over.
"So. I shouldn't have been," Jungkook finishes.
"Is that meant to be an apology?" Taehyung frowns.
"If you think that's what's appropriate," Jungkook says.
"Wow." Taehyung's grin returns. Mega-watt force again. "That's the least apologetic apology I've received."
"Uh-huh, well. This has been cool," Jungkook says.
"Hey, come on, it's not like I'm rejecting it," Taehyung says quickly. "Hey, why don't you join us for lunch tomorrow? Us as in me and Jimin. There's this deli near the station; it's got an incredible signature beef sandwich."
Jungkook scratches his ear. "I tend to work out before—"
"Oh, come on. Just one day," Taehyung cajoles. "I sit a metre away from you, but I feel like we've hardly gotten to know each other. And Jiminie says you're a fun guy!"
"Mmhmm." Jungkook nods. "Yeah, sorry, can't. Maybe some other time?"
"Cool. When? Friday, maybe?" Taehyung asks frankly.
Jeez. This guy does not get a hint.
"Let me get back to you," Jungkook offers. He takes Taehyung's spot at the door, grabbing and twisting the handle.
"I'll hold you to it," Taehyung says.
"You know," Jungkook mumbles, "I have no doubt that you will."
The next day, Jungkook and Mark are both working late. Yoongi's around too, but mostly on account of them needing his check on a few of the items.
"Tesla's getting fucked," Mark comments, drawing out the end of the sentence.
"More like Musk is getting fucked," Jungkook adds, clicking through a webpage. "Jesus, looks like I got a date with my best girl."
Mark snickers as Jungkook moves to the desk with the Bloomberg computer, setting it up. Ah, pretty graphs. Jungkook hums as he starts searching.
About five minutes go by, and then there's the beeping sound that indicates someone's swiped their keycard to be let in. Huh. The only people around aside from them are Renjun, in the midst of translating a Chinese PR into English, and Seungkwan, working on whatever rabbit hole Taehyung had sent him down.
And, oh, speaking of, that's Taehyung coming through. Right. He'd gone for a happy hour meeting with JYP's CEO—Mr Park Jinyoung himself. That had been three hours or so back. Jungkook returns his gaze to the machine. Must be nice, he thinks, to just leave the office for a drink.
He hears Taehyung greet everyone and lifts his head with the intention of nodding back when he catches Taehyung's expression and—huh. No megawatt smile. Okay.
"Yo, JK, I've got the formatting sorted. Send me the numbers," Mark says. "Let's get this done with."
"Yep," Jungkook says and gets back into it.
Yoongi leaves after he's given them a go-ahead, and Mark scurries off after too, apparently late for a dinner. Jungkook had told himself he'd get SM's stats to Hansol to beautify in the morning, so he has to stick around, dumping data into an Excel sheet.
Once he has it done, he looks it over and sighs. Probably best to get the high-level summary out of the way now, just so Hansol knows what to point out. Body restless from how long he's been sitting here, he abrades the palm of his hand over his face for a moment, chair shifting him around as he jerks his ankle back and forth. It's as he does so that he catches sight of Taehyung's still seated at his desk. His monitor is open on the Outlook desktop app, but he isn't looking at any emails. Jungkook looks the slumped line of Taehyung's shoulders over, then rubs his knuckles over his mouth briefly, thinking to himself. After a minute, he shakes his head and returns to his work.
Fucccckkk, but SM has a tight leash on the journos that cover them, Jungkook thinks, typing out a brief summary in a yellow textbox on the Excel. Like a post-it. He wonders idly what the range is for how much the journos would've been paid to suck SM's proverbial dick. Calculated by word count, maybe?
Distantly, Seungkwan clocks out, delivering a polite goodnight to them before leaving.
Jungkook reads over the summary, fixing a word here and there. Eh, good enough, he thinks. Or, well, enough to go off on. He sneaks a glance over. Taehyung is typing out an email, thoughtful and unhurried, like it isn't 7—Jungkook checks—32.
"Okay, what happened?" Jungkook hears himself say bluntly. "Did he spit in your food? Make fun of your drink choices?"
Taehyung visibly startles, head whipping back to meet Jungkook's gaze. "What?"
"Something obviously happened, and JYP is notoriously a dick, so," Jungkook shrugs, "what was it this time?"
"Oh," Taehyung looks away. "No, he didn't do anything."
"So it went well?" Jungkook presses.
"Uh. Yeah," Taehyung says. One of his hands latches onto a stress ball, a merch piece from one of their insurance clients. He squeezes it rhythmically, likely not even aware he's doing so, and says, "I mean, I'm pretty sure he like, hates me and everything I'm about. But you know, as a client, he's happy." The words grow a little fainter at the end.
"What the hell?" Jungkook asks. "What happened? Did he say that?"
"No, it's just. A vibe." Taehyung waves a hand dismissively. "I think, you know, he really liked Jackson hyung's foreign vibe, and he said something about partying, and then I said, turn up, you know, like Jackson hyung does, and he got really weird about it," Taehyung says. "And then he went on this spiel at the end about how at the end of the day, personalities don't get work done, and he was looking forward to seeing what we came up with. Not exactly subtle," Taehyung finishes.
"...Yikes." Jungkook's chair whines as he leans back. "That's...classy JYP. As always."
"Yeah, I know," Taehyung's smiling, but it rings wrong. Properly ingenuine, Jungkook realises. "Jackson literally warned me, but I was so convinced that I could sway him, and I—couldn't." Taehyung shrugs tightly. "Probably should've expected that. Can't win everyone over. Um. You'd know."
Jungkook had just started to nod when his brain flags the last bit. "Wait, what would I know?"
"Uh." Are Taehyung's ears red? "Well," Taehyung says carefully, "I meant—and you know, not in a self-pitying way—but it's pretty clear you don't like me."
A sharp slicing line of mortification runs through Jungkook, and it takes him two breaths before he can muster up a weak, "uh, I don't—"
Taehyung raises his hands in front of him, palms out. "It's fine," he assures, "seriously. It's normal for there to be people that just don't vibe. And you don't vibe with me and y'know, I do know that and it's—it's cool."
Taehyung's not saying anything that's untrue, and definitely not anything that Jungkook hasn't outright hinted at, if not with his words than his actions. So then why does he feel so humiliatingly hot?
"It's not—personal," Jungkook decides on saying.
Taehyung's scowl is unexpected. "Shit, really? That sucks."
"That—you want it to be personal?"
Taehyung looks at him like he's the slow one. "Duh. Disliking someone should never be impersonal. If you disliked me just—because like, I reminded you of someone, then I'd be a byproduct of something I have no control over. I'd rather you disliked me for me."
"Oh my God," Jungkook says in a wondrous tone. "Never mind, I take it back. It's personal. It's because of who you are as a human being."
And there! There it is. Taehyung's boxy smile, wide and in your face. "Yay," Taehyung says, and he sounds pleased, in stark contrast with his Debbie downer mood a minute back. "What about me?"
There's a weird energy here, between the two of them. Jungkook's both aware of it and unsure of what it is.
Wetting his lips, he says, "Your awful fashion."
"What's wrong with my clothes?"
"They're ridiculous. Half the patterns you wear shouldn't even exist outside of a weed-induced trip," Jungkook says, words rolling off his tongue.
"Says Mr. Fifty Shades of Black," Taehyung retorts.
"You smile way too much," Jungkook continues.
Taehyung's grin widens. Impossible, you'd think, and yet Jungkook's just seen it. "You do too."
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do," Taehyung insists. "Just not at me."
"Well." Jungkook stops, not sure what to say to that. "You're being mighty receptive to personal attacks considering JYP's comments had you sitting in silence for the past hour."
"Firstly, it was like, 20 minutes, and it wasn't even all about that," Taehyung lists off. "Secondly, of course it's not as hurtful from you—your opinion of me doesn't affect my work."
"So I don't even rank?" Jungkook asks, and what was that tone he just used? What is this energy?
"Nah, of course you rank." Taehyung's smile slants into mischievous relief. "Just not above JYP."
"Huh." Jungkook bites back the smile that's trying to wriggle its way onto his face. "Am I eligible for a promotion?"
Taehyung snorts at that. "Jimin was right. You are funny," he comments.
"What," Jungkook can't hold back the smile, damn it. "Do you two just sit around and talk to me?"
"We sit around and talk about everybody. It’s kind of our thing. You should join us one day." Taehyung's eyes take on a strangely intent gleam. "How's Friday?"
That night changes something between them.
Jungkook still maintains that Taehyung is the kind of obnoxious that is both rare and metastasising, but he can't deny that Taehyung yields a good humour about it.
When Jungkook comes in the next day at a breezy 9:14 am, he greets him with a cheery, "Hey, Jungkook-ah!"
Jungkook grumbles out a meek hi in return, but it's a step up from his nod-and-smile combo. Maybe part of him had thought Taehyung would take yesterday as an opening to start pestering Jungkook, but then he doesn't, just goes about things in his usual manner. People flock around him, and he spends an inordinate amount of time hanging over other people's cubicles, and when something exciting does come up in his day and he turns to tell Jungkook, it's with his usual I-have-breaking-news tone and you're-gonna-wanna-hear-this assumption.
It isn't an incredibly packed day. Jungkook has his earbuds in for most of it; the new PSY song is damn catchy and he's intent on listening to it until he can't stand it. Taehyung has a client come in in the latter end of the morning, and they spend an hour and a half in one of the meeting rooms.
A while after lunch, Jungkook is at the pantry when Taehyung and Hoseok come in.
Hoseok is speaking in a conspiratorial tone, talking about a client, probably, and when Taehyung realises Jungkook is there, he flashes a grin at him.
"Hey."
"Hi," Jungkook says, returning his gaze to the coffee machine. He slots in an espresso packet, pushing the lever back to lock the machine and then presses the button for the coffee. The machine whirs as it works, and Jungkook stretches his neck as he waits for it to fill his cup up.
Hoseok and Taehyung are still chatting, but Hoseok catches his attention and says, "Guess who wants edits back on their ESG report in two days?"
Jungkook sucks his teeth. "Surely not YG again."
"Ding, ding, ding," Hoseok drones. "We've had to divert Seungkwan and Hansol both from their tasks to get on this. Taehyung's handling the first section, but it's a pain in the arse because they're refusing to share an editable soft copy. We're expected to just make comments on the PDF."
"YG doing YG things," Jungkook picks up his coffee. "This is why MI's the best team."
Taehyung makes a disbelieving sound. "You guys have the worst hours."
"No," Jungkook corrects cheekily. "We have the most consistently long hours. But worst hours? Nah, that's on you lot."
"Agh, you know, this year, I decided I'd try and stay only until 6:45 at the latest every day." Hoseok raises an eyebrow. "Guess how long I lasted."
"Two weeks."
"One week?" Jungkook poses.
"Jeez, alright, you guys are a pessimistic pair. A month," Hoseok clarifies. "And boy. What a good month it was. I made myself dinner instead of ordering in. I was going to a dance class three times a week." Hoseok runs a hand through his hair. "Honestly, Jungkook, I don't know how it is that you manage to get your fitness in and still have a brain by the end of the day."
Jungkook shrugs, simultaneously smug and embarrassed. "We make time for our passions," he comments casually.
"Wow," Taehyung says, not quite sincere. "Such a cool guy."
Jungkook looks over at him from under his eyelashes, and is so set on giving him a miffed look that he totally misses the beep of the coffee machine, its sudden trilling sound startling him. He does his best to hide it, but judging by Hoseok and Taehyung's twin pursed mouths, he doesn't quite pull it off.
Jungkook takes his mug, raising it in a defiant gesture that probably seems like a conciliatory goodbye but is in fact a spiritual middle finger, before turning on his foot and walking off.
Once he sits down at his desk, he very carefully steals a glance at where Hoseok and Taehyung are still chatting amicably at the kitchenette. Then, once assured that neither of them are watching, he allows himself to thwack the jut of his palm against his forehead, head sinking into the flesh with a quiet groan.
"It's just insulting, you know," Jungkook presses the flat of his mouth against the rim of the beer glass. "To be embarrassed in front of someone as routinely embarrassing as he is."
Yoongi is only half-listening to him, one eye on the football game behind Jungkook, and it should chafe except Jungkook knows that if it weren't for the game, Yoongi would have cut through his admittedly circular rant a little earlier.
"Mmhmm," Yoongi intones when the pause in Jungkook's word vomit parses through. "Yeah, for sure."
It's Thursday night, and they'd both exchanged a look at 7:37 pm, and then Yoongi had sighed and said, "Come on, my treat." And now they're here, at a bar about eight minutes walking distance away from the office.
"And you know what? I cannot even really say for sure whether he's gay. He's one of those infuriating—could be, couldn't be types. You know? Like, one of those people who are so comfortable in their own skin that you're never quite sure if it's about you or whether that's just how they are with...everyone."
Yoongi's eyes are on him, and between his eyebrows there's the faintest pinch that nonetheless sends a blaring oh no through Jungkook.
"Why would you care if he's gay?" Yoongi asks.
Jungkook rallies quickly. "It's not that I care if he's gay. I just think his character is dubious, and the ambiguity surrounding his, uh, sexuality adds to it."
"You think his character is dubious because you don't know if he's gay?"
"That's..."
"Wow." Yoongi refocuses on the football. "Piece of shit, what're you walking for? Giving him an escort to the goal, are we? Fucking dogshit defence. Fucking useless team."
"I have a defence," Jungkook straightens primly.
"You're upset because you can't define him," Yoongi says without taking his eyes off the screen. "And you wanna pin him down."
A visual flits absurdly through Jungkook's mind.
"And now you're red. Beer catch up to you?" A brief once-over before he returns his attention to the screen once again, nodding shallowly. "That's better, smart passing now, come on boys."
"I have a problem," Jungkook blurts out.
Yoongi spares him a brief, unenthused look. "Can you have it tomorrow?"
Jungkook thinks it over. "Well, it's definitely not gonna go away tomorrow. I think the notice period's two months for relationship managers."
"Great." Yoongi points behind him. "Now, see, the motherfuckers are about to miss the easiest goal in the world, watch—"