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It was the same as always.
As he made his way across the campus, Jimin took notice of the people who twisted their necks to watch him walk by. Some ogling his body, others admiring his face. He can’t blame them. He takes good care of himself, but at this point, it’s an aggravating reminder of the one person he can’t seem to lock down in his gravitational field the way he wants to. No amount of effortless charm and a smile that can light up a room had swayed him. Nothing came from the tight jeans or the shirts that may have been cut a little too short. Even the most obvious of flirting flew right by the man.
Yes, it had been three years. Yes, Jimin was far from giving up. And yes, Jimin was aware of how pathetic it all was, considering he could literally have anyone he wanted, but that idiot, that Jeon Jungkook, with his stupid hair, glasses, and laugh, was all Jimin could think about.
The polar opposite of Jimin, Jungkook was tall and lanky, a mess of perm-fried hair on his head that fell over his lenses until his glasses slipped down his nose. Never without his black sweatshirt or his ratty old bookbag that he’s had for as long as Jimin knew him, stuffed full of books on computers, physics, folklore, and ghost stories. He was so quiet, kept to himself, faded into the background on most occasions, but when he was with Jimin, the floodgates opened, and nothing could get him to shut up. On and on, he’d talk for hours about a book he had read, a theory he has, or an idea for a game he wants to make. Not a single bit of it interested Jimin, but he absorbed every bit of information offered to him, holding onto it like bits of treasure discovered on a wild expedition in unknown territory.
They met at the very start of their freshman year in an odd elective that was said to have combined “creative technology” and the “foundations of artistic performance,” which ended up being just as convoluted and pretentious as it sounds. The dancers learned to edit software, and the tech bros watched and wrote about varying ballets and contemporary performances.
Jimin had walked into that class with the sharp confidence he put on every day, makeup and hair done up perfectly, his reputation as a sight to behold well intact. He thought he had made quite an impact, but that was shattered when Jungkook stumbled in late, tripping over the step at the door and rolling a good ten feet down the platformed stairs, landing himself right next to Jimin’s seat. Papers and books spilled out of his ratty bag, and he moved lightning quick to scoop it all up into his arms and flop into the seat straight across the aisle from Jimin, muttering apologies but somehow not looking affected by the display.
It was hard to focus after he showed up. Again and again, Jimin would catch himself looking at him, resting his chin in his hand, eyes assessing all the details. He was a big guy, clearly worked out, but he huddled in on himself, slouching and keeping his head down. Tattoos covered his hand, and the slightest bit of exposure showed the hints of ink cast across his shoulder. Eyebrow and ears pierced, hair a mess but falling into his face perfectly, and a noticeable scent, the light and fresh smell of a body mist, Jimin assumed.
His infatuation grew over the course of a few weeks, and Jimin was about to break his streak of being the one to be asked out, but a bold twist of fate flung Jungkook right into his lap by pairing them for a project. That first day, Jimin couldn’t hold himself back. He pulled out all the big guns from the start… or at least what he thought were the big guns. The compliments came easily — “your hands are really pretty,” was the first. “Oh, yeah, my mom said they’re good for piano, but obviously I went for a different kind of key,” was all he got back.
His hair, his clothes, his smiles, his arms, his handwriting, his smell, his laugh, his teeth, his organization skills, his humor, his stubbornness — everything. Jimin had complimented everything. He tossed out the bait a million times, and not a single thing landed as intended.
Stepping it up a notch, Jimin had demanded they work in Jungkook’s dorm room rather than the library or the cafe. Splayed out on his bed, positioned to look his most tantalizing, shirt riding up and the edges of his underwear peaking out, hair tossed just right, Jimin had put on a show. He sighed dramatically, aiming his huffs at Jungkook, who had been zeroed in on his computer screen, collecting resources and taking notes.
“I admire how focused you can be,” Jimin offered. “I should date someone like you. If I did, I’d probably do a lot better in my other classes.”
“Yeah, you’d be more productive,” he nodded, eyes never leaving the screen.
Jimin pursed his lips and rolled onto his side, eyes sharp on Jungkook’s features, trying to read into any kind of reaction at all. “Do you…” He rolled his eyes at his own persistence. “Do you ever think about dating?”
“I guess so, sometimes,” he shrugged. “Maybe after graduation.”
Devastating.
Oh, dear god, Jimin had tried everything from the very beginning. At first, he had thought that maybe Jungkook was just playing hard to get, or maybe he was secretly dating someone already, but with all the probing and digging, Jimin found Jungkook to be single and, to put it simply, incredibly oblivious when it came to picking up on flirting. Apparently, Jimin wasn’t the only one having difficulty breaking the ice wall that is Jeon Jungkook.
Jimin had witnessed it a fair few times at the parties he had dragged Jungkook to. Someone would come up and flirt with Jungkook, the most obvious being girls who were already drunk, falling over themselves just to touch him. Jimin would have to bat them away, claim his territory, and then try not to rip his hair out trying to convince Jungkook that people wanted to fuck him.
“No way,” he’d say, head turned down and eyes hidden behind his hair and glasses. “People don’t look at me like that.”
Mind-boggling.
Ramping it up a notch, Jimin graduated from his usual subtle and teasing flirting to hanging off him every chance he got. He practically stitched himself to Jungkook, hopping onto his back for a ride through the campus, sitting as close as possible. The “accidental” kicks under the table were a nice touch, he thought. Then came babying him every time he was being cute. Saying what a big man he was every time he was being serious and getting that stony look in his eye. The touches became braver, lingered longer, and he even got into the habit of walking with his arm wrapped around Jungkook’s, making them look like a strolling couple everywhere they went. For fuck’s sake, he even baked for the man — individually decorated cookies in a customized tin, labeled “For My Favorite Nerd.”
Everyone else noticed. Everyone else started backing off both of them over the last year, and the rumors and assumptions have gotten back around to Jimin more than a few times, but somehow, word never made it to Jungkook. If it did, he never brought it up himself, and when Jimin would joke about it, about how they would be cute together, he’d just laugh and change the subject. Jimin spent most of his time screaming internally these days.
So, with that, in the first quarter of their Senior year, Jimin had locked in a few truths that he could no longer deny:
One: Jeon Jungkook was genuinely, undeniably, forever and always, his one and only soul mate, and he will die if he has to go on like this for another year.
Two: Jeon Jungkook was the most attractive person on the planet, but for some reason, he genuinely didn’t know that.
Three: If he had to flirt any harder to get through to Jungkook, it would qualify as legal harassment, and he would get reported and kicked out of school.
Sitting in the student cafe, legs crossed and hand gripping a hot coffee, Jimin stared ahead with a fierce look, mind storming through every possible plan and tactic that he hadn’t already tried. He played out every scenario, ran it through his Jeon Jungkook database to gauge the response, and everything came back with the same, unending stream of disinterest and obliviousness. Jimin is really starting to wonder how you can love and hate someone so much at the same time.
Oh, but he did love him. He really, really did. Even if their story would forever pencil him in as a supportive best friend slash unacknowledged, one-sided romantic interest, Jimin still wanted to hang on for dear life. He loves Jungkook and his awkward jokes, his vast intrigue and knowledge on the most obscure things, the way he gets so excited to just sit and explain a new idea, a new theory. He made everything sound interesting. Jimin loved the fact that Jungkook could listen just as much as he could talk, being one of the first people outside of his classes who could actually listen to him talk about all the technical and creative elements of ballet without acting as if Jimin was talking in code the whole time. He always listens so well, catches every detail, actually responds to him, asks questions, and adds his own thoughts. Jeon Jungkook is not stupid, so what the fuck is the issue?
“He’s going to be the death of me,” Jimin muttered to himself over the lip of his cup, bringing it up to sip, swallowing down the bitterness.
As if Jungkook was already making his first attempt at ending Jimin’s life, Jimin’s phone buzzed loudly on the table, causing him to jolt and choke on his coffee. Sputtering, he slams his cup down on the small table in front of him, gabbing his phone to see a string of notifications — school portal, Google Drive, email, text message. All from Jungkook. He checks the text message first, greeted with an animated emoji waving and pointing down to a link, which he assumes is what all the other notifications are. Tapping the screen, he’s taken to a public post on their school website:
NEW STUDENT ORGANIZATION: SIGNATURE AND SIGN UP REQUEST
GHOST HUNTING AND URBAN EXPLORATION CLUB
Founder: Jeon Jungkook
Come and explore the wonders and beauty of the shadow realms that exist all around us! Aiming for weekly meetings for discussion and experimentation, and monthly hunts and explorations in our local area.
The deadline for signatures is the 19th!
Jimin blinks at the screen, fingers flying to get him back to his text.
JM: You’re starting a ghost hunting club????
JK: Yes!
JM: And you didn’t tell me??
JK: literally just thought of it today, the cutoff date for new clubs is next week. You don’t have to join, but YOU DO have to sign the petition for it. It only needs 20.
JM: Oh no, I’m definitely joining, how could I not?
JK: 😮 you really want to?
Rolling his eyes, Jimin huffs as he makes his way back to the announcement post, navigating to the sign-up page. After entering his information, he captures the confirmation and sends it to Jungkook.
JK: THANK YOU!!! 😀
The annoyed expression on Jimin’s face falls into an endeared smile, imagining the excited hops and air punches he’s probably doing, always so happy when he gets things moving.
JM: Obviously, I couldn’t let you have all that fun without me. What conjured up this idea, btw?
JK: There are a lot of abandoned places around here. And a lot of dead people.
JM: And no one has ever thought to create an urban exploration and ghost hunting club? You really are a genius. I’m looking forward to hunting for ghosts, but I’ll need you to protect me if any demons pop up.
JK: Lol, a demon wouldn’t dare mess with you when I’m around.
Jimin nearly choked again. Face heating up immediately, he stared at the last text.
JM: You want to protect me?
Every nerve in Jimin’s body is riddled with pop rocks, a fierce chill running up his back in anticipation.
JK: Well, I’d have to, they’d shut down my club if any of the members got hurt.
Jimin noticeably deflated, shoulders slumping, and face falling to a deadpan expression. He rolls his eyes at himself, silently humiliated at his own hope. God, he never would have gotten so worked up over something so small before he met this man.
His phone buzzed again.
JK: I have to get to work. We’re still going to that bookstore tonight, right?
JM: Of course, it’s a date.
JK: Great, thanks again for signing up. Friends will get special privileges. 😀
Friends.
Jimin hates Jeon Jungkook.
After a few days, Jungkook had received all the necessary signatures for his club to be accepted, and a few days after that, he held his first meeting. Jimin was there first, of course, with all the enthusiasm in the world and zero interest in ghost hunting or urban exploration. The turnout wasn’t bad — eleven confirmed members and about fifteen people who showed up for the initial open meeting. Jungkook had managed to snag a room that Jimin is pretty sure was used for storage at one point. It smelled like his grandma’s attic and had scuffed walls and floors. Jimin would have complained, but maybe Jungkook chose this room for the atmosphere. The little hanging ghosts around the door and the cookies, crackers, and juice set up nearby certainly helped make the space a bit less… shitty.
Jimin sat in the front row, legs crossed, and chin resting in his hand while he tapped away at the desk, watching Jungkook closely as he fidgeted with some papers he laid out on a table in front. He kept checking the clock, probably wanting to give more people a chance to get in before he started. When the clock did finally strike exactly 8 o’clock, Jungkook took a deep breath, grabbed his papers, a stack of pens rubberbanded together, and marched forward to face the crowd with a look of determined confidence that Jimin wanted to devour.
“Um…” he cleared his throat. “Hello, everyone! Thank you for being here.”
Jimin couldn’t help but smile. And he really did try to help it, leaning back, crossing his arms, and pressing his lips together, but the noticeable excitement got to him. The wide eyes and shaky hands got to him. The slightly authoritative tone in the other’s voice as he projected through the room got to him. Jungkook was getting to him, and Jimin beamed at him like he was watching the greatest solo performance ever crafted for the human eye.
God, he’s pathetic.
“So, um…” he cleared his throat again. “I’m Jungkook, the founder, and this club is for urban exploration and ghost hunting… which I’m sure you guessed already.”
Laughter rolls through the room, everyone catching the endearment bug. Jimin laughs with them, giddy at how Jungkook chuckles, cheeks pink. Seeming to pick up on the positive reception already, Jimin noticed Jungkook shift into a slightly different posture, head up, chest open. Jimin’s heart fluttered.
“The plan, currently, is to have weekly meetings where we can discuss elements of the paranormal as well as local history associated with some of the abandoned properties in the area. Over time, we can branch out to other towns and cities, but for now, I want to keep it local so we can get our footing. Once a month, I want to do a proper exploration, at night, of course, and we can do investigations together as a team, or split into smaller groups depending on how big the place is. Footage and recording will be analyzed and discussed in the following meetings.”
Jungkook flicked through the papers he had and pulled out a separated stack, laying the rest down on the table in front of Jimin while he pulled a paper clip off the edges. Grabbing the stack of pens, he began passing them both out to everyone, walking around the room in smooth steps as he spoke.
“I have a survey here for everyone. If you’re still on the fence about joining, you can mark your paper with a question mark so I can keep them separate. I’d appreciate it. These surveys will help me to set things up more appropriately for everyone and assign tasks for explorations going forward. I’m in the process of collecting more equipment for everyone, including safety equipment, but if you are able to supply your own, be sure to make a note of what you have and what you are willing to bring. I can use the list to figure out the budget and get some better ideas for what to buy for everyone else.”
Returning to the front of the room, Jungkook scoops up the second stack of papers, making the same rounds again.
“This one is a release form. It’s something we all have to sign in order to do the explorations. It basically says we can’t sue the school if something goes wrong. Please keep in mind, safety will always be the top priority to avoid such a situation, but if you don’t want to sign it, you can opt out and just join in on the meetings every week.”
And again, he tracked his way back to the front of the room, clapping his hands together, eyes focusing.
“Now, we are lined up to have our first shot at investigating the old glass factory, it’s about fifteen miles up the road off campus,” he grabbed one of the remaining papers off the table, holding it up to reveal a printed image of said glass factory. “It’s a pretty big place, so I think it would be good to scout it out before taking the whole group. I’ll be heading out there on Friday to check it out, but for safety, I think it would be best if I had another person with me, so if there are any volunteers—”
“ME!”
Jimin about shit himself, jolting from his own jumpscare and quickly ripping his hand out of the air where it had shot up involuntarily, along with the booming volume of his own voice. Immediately, he blushed and pressed his lips together, jaw clenching around his own desperation. He could hear a few people laughing.
Jungkook stared down at him, clearly a bit shocked along with everyone else, but then he smiled. “You want to go with me?”
Jimin shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest again. “I mean, yeah. It’s… just…” Why was he panicking? For fuck’s sake, keep it together. “I just never really did anything like this before, so I think if I could go along with you to check the place out, I could… like… get a feel for it before we do all the… spooky stuff.”
His smile growing wide, Jungkook nodded, “Well, then,” he addressed the room. “I have my volunteer for this one. As I said, we’ll head out this Friday and have our second meeting next Wednesday, a week from today, where we can get more into the history of the building, the reports, and actually plan out our expedition. So, the plan is for the first exploration to be on the following Friday.” He gave a quick look around, seeming to check for anything he might have missed. “And… I think that’s all I have to say for the introductions, so uh, please, mingle, enjoy the refreshments, and you can put your surveys and release forms here on this table when you’re finished with them. Thank you for your time, everyone.”
Suddenly, the room was bustling as people stood up and moved around, some still sitting to finish filling out their surveys, others scampering to the refreshments. Jimin stood and took a couple of steps to stand in front of the table next to Jungkook.
“How did I do?” Jungkook asked as soon as he could lean into Jimin, his confidence breaking into a slightly panicked shyness that Jimin shook his head at.
“You did great,” Jimin affirmed. “You were very well-spoken, charming, and everyone here loves you. Really.”
Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief and nodded to himself, looking around the room at everyone once more before landing his attention on Jimin. He blinked at him, his smile slowly spreading over his face with a knowing look. Jimin squinted at him, a silent question. “You seemed eager to volunteer,” he chuckled.
Jimin groaned, lurching forward to hang his head in shame, arms falling to his side. “God, that was so embarrassing, I… I just…”
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “You saved me. It would have been awkward as fuck if no one else volunteered. You always think quick on your feet.”
Jimin shrugged, “Well, I mean, that’s not really why I—”
“Here’s my survey, Mr. Club Leader,” a body shot between Jimin and Jungkook, nearly causing Jimin to stumble backward. “And my release form.”
A girl, just a tiny bit taller than Jimin, had swooped in and placed herself next to Jungkook, in front of him, between him and Jimin, closer than Jimin had been before. One hand on her hip and the other casually resting over her papers that now lay on the table, she seemed to jut her face toward Jungkook while jutting her ass toward Jimin. Loud and clear.
Scoffing, Jimin took a step back and to the side, stepping around to stand next to Jungkook, facing the girl who eyed him like he was a pestering bug. Jimin did the same.
“I was so excited to see this club pop up,” she sang, eyes wide and staring up at Jungkook. Fake as fuck, Jimin thinks. “Finally, something actually interesting.”
Jungkook smiled, “That’s great to hear. Are you already an explorer?”
“Oh, well,” she shrugged a bit. “Not really, but I love scary movies and… always loved going through haunted houses during Halloween, so, you know… seemed like something I would enjoy. And a great way to make some new friends, perhaps?”
Jimin rolled his eyes, huffing as he shook his head. She noticed. Good.
“Yeah, of course,” Jungkook gestured to the other people, most of whom were now talking amongst themselves next to the snack table. “There seems to be a lot of cool people here.”
“You should go introduce yourself to them,” Jimin interjected, eyes wide and unblinking, fake smile plastered on, expression screaming. “You know, while everyone is still in a friend-making mood.”
“He’s right,” Jungkook nodded. “The first day is the best time to try and make friends, everyone is at the same level of nervousness and eagerness. I’m sure you could just jump right in.”
The girl’s face soured and cast a sharp glare at Jimin, him smiling back with a triumphant smirk. “Right,” she said. “I’ll go do that.”
Jimin kept his eyes on her as she walked away, as if he was waiting for the opportunity to attack if she happened to turn around to try again. He didn’t notice Jungkook staring at him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Jimin whipped his head around to look at him, eyes still locked in a harsh stare. He pursed his lips. “She was flirting with you,” he said simply.
Jungkook laughs, “What? No, she wasn’t.”
“I like scary movies and haunted houses,” Jimin mocks her with a cartoonish tone. “So, I came here to make spooky friends, and you, Mr. Club Leader, are the spookiest of them all, so let's go fuck behind the snack table.”
“She didn’t say that.”
“Yes, she did, you just weren’t paying attention,” he huffed. “She’s clearly not even interested in any of this.”
“And you are?”
Jimin looked at him with shock, mouth hanging open. “I’m more interested than her.”
Jungkook smiled, eyebrows raised, “and that’s why you volunteered to scout? Because you’re just so interested.”
“I am!” Jimin glared, and Jungkook held his hands up in a playful defense, smile poorly masked. “What else was I going to do with my Friday night? If you’re out wandering around an abandoned building, I’d just be stuck at home by myself with nothing to do. So, I’m interested, eager, and excited to be here, and to do the scouting, and the meetings, and the investigations, and—”
“Okay, okay,” Jungkook laughed again. “No need to get upset.”
“I’m not upset, I’m just saying…” Jimin swayed on his feet, suddenly feeling small as he glanced over at all the other people in the room, all the people who would be taking up time and space in Jungkook’s life. New friends. A painful chill twisted in his chest, and he hated how easy it was for him to get jealous now, like he’s still a kid staking his claim with a Best Friends Forever bracelet that he desperately wishes were locks and chains. “I’m just saying, when you need a volunteer, ask me first.”
It was clear to Jimin that he was no longer doing a good job of keeping himself in line, the look on Jungkook’s face making it obvious. That odd, questioning concern would creep up whenever Jimin would get upset, surely leaving Jungkook just as bewildered as anyone else who tried to flirt with him.
The pain of realization hit him, something that stabbed into him now and again, something he would swallow down and bury in his sleep before waking up renewed and just as delusional as before. To leave this man just as confused and lost as everyone else, to have nothing he says or does land with him, despite all of his efforts, no matter how obvious, it was so clear to Jimin, any time he decided to open his eyes and see what was in front of him. There is no difference between Jimin and that girl over there, no difference between him and any random person that Jungkook has no interest in.
The rain of humiliation washed over him next, his mind racing through his outburst and his obvious possessiveness. The laughing. The looks. The rumors that swam through his classes, his DMs. Was everyone aware of how pathetic he was?
“Jimin?”
He jolted out of his thoughts, a cold chill running up over him as he felt his face heating up, his eyes starting to burn. Lightning quick, he put on a smile and stepped around Jungkook to grab his bag off the floor, slinging it over his shoulder.
“Are you leaving?” Jungkook scrambled to him, grabbing onto his bag strap before he could make it up more than one step.
Jimin turned around, smile still bright and held tight, “Yeah, I just remembered I have to… go to the store. I ran out of eggs again.”
“I can drive you after the meeting,” Jungkook offered. “Come on, stay, you need to meet everyone.”
Jimin glanced over to the small crowd again, the girl catching his eye, staring back at him. She was smiling, clearly caught up in something the others were laughing about, probably completely unrelated to him, but he couldn’t be sure. He smiled bigger for Jungkook, trying to ease the tension he could see rising in his expression. “I think I already made my impression,” he said.
Jungkook’s face fell a bit more, eyes scanning the same way they do when he’s trying to strategize a play in one of his fantasy games, like he’s trying to figure him out, like he knows something’s wrong. “Okay,” he said softly, posture falling in defeat, a kicked puppy. “Can I still call you tonight? There are only two chapters left. I can probably get through them both before you fall asleep.”
The cold pain in his chest hit a warmfront, stirring up a tornado of lovestricken heartbreak, whizzing around into a frenzy that put Jungkook at the eye of his storm. “Yeah, for sure.”
Jimin left the meeting, and every step he took felt heavier and heavier, his breath becoming shallow, and by the time he hit the sidewalk, illuminated by the security lights, the tears started to fall.
It was a cycle. Typical. Jimin would build up his own hope just to shatter it all when reality would strike, and he knows good and well tomorrow he won’t feel this anymore, he won’t have these thoughts, he’ll still be in love and still be so dedicated to making Jungkook figure it out. He knows it will pass, but the crush was crushing him now, and he needed to let himself cry.
Unfortunately, when the next morning came, the cycle had frozen itself solid, leaving him in his grief-stricken disillusionment. It might have been a mistake to let Jungkook read to him while he was still so lost in himself. He spent the full two-hours that it took to finish the book swimming in Jungkook’s voice as it sounded through the speaker of his phone, propped up on the second pillow next to his head. He laid there going back and forth between the warm waves of knowing that, in that moment, Jungkook wasn’t thinking about anyone but him, pausing every few paragraphs to make sure he was still awake, asking what he thought so far, and the cold fall of realizing this is probably as close as they’ll ever be, this is as intimate — through a phone, reading books, talking. Like friends do.
Maybe the thought had just settled in for too long, and maybe it would pass again, but this time it felt different. It hung on him heavier than usual, weighing on his day and creating a fog so thick he missed one of his lectures, zoning out in the cafe, letting his coffee go cold.
To his own surprise, he checked out for the rest of the day, heading back to his apartment before noon. Without thinking about it really, he sent Jungkook a message to cancel their usual dinner date, telling him he was sick. A migraine. A stomach ache. He didn’t bother explaining. “Just don’t come over. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
While lying in the bath, hot water up to his chin, he reassessed everything from the ground up, from the first day to the most recent, every thought, feeling, and effort. Part of him had hoped this would reignite his inner frustration, that little ball of rage that made him want to keep trying, wanting to conquer the challenge of breaking through to Jungkook without actually having to bare his soul like an idiot. Instead, the part that was reignited was a pathetic little worm who couldn’t stand the disinterest, the limitations, the obvious rejection, and shut-downs he had been receiving all that time. He could feel himself shrinking down under Jungkook’s gaze, the laughter, the rumors that people will eventually roll their eyes at when they figure out that, yeah, even Park Jimin isn’t good enough for Jeon Jungkook.
Come Friday, Jimin was still locked in his haze, floating through the day, his classes, and most conversations with his own detachment and disinterest. His mind would sway to Jungkook only to scream at him for doing so, over and over again. He was exhausting himself. But when the time came for him and Jungkook to head out to the glass factory, Jimin did what he could to pull himself together. There was no option to cancel. He volunteered, and he didn’t want to disappoint Jungkook, not with something so important to him. Friends don’t do that. Friends show up, and they show up happy.
The car ride out was decent enough, easier with Jungkook relaying to Jimin all that had occurred in his fantasy game after spending a ten-hour session to take up the free space in his schedule. Jimin was comforted by the alternate reality where Jungkook was a master wizard who had been knighted by the Queen of the Realms herself and carried around a forever-baby-kitten in a leather pouch that hung across his chest — something he had acquired over a year ago. He named it Minnie after the nickname some of the other dancers gave to Jimin during freshman year. Jungkook says it was a compromise since Jimin never wanted to play with him, preferring much more to either sit and watch him play or listen to the rundown after the fact.
And then, just over an overgrown field, illuminated by the moon, stood the glass factory. Stones popped under the tires as they slowly crept along a graveled road that lined the perimeter of the property. It stood dark grey and intimidating, each window holding an abyss, glass cracked or shattered out completely. Silhouettes of trees and what looked to be vehicles left behind framed the landscape. Rolling to a stop, Jungkook parked and shut the car off, leaving the two of them to stare through Jimin’s window.
“There it is,” Jungkook said with a sigh. “Scary, isn’t it?”
“Mm,” Jimin hummed. “It is, actually.”
“You don’t have to go in,” he said simply. “I can do it myself.”
Jimin whipped his head around, eyebrows squished together. “You want to leave me out here by myself?”
“No!” Jungkook nearly jumped, hands flying up. “No, not at all, I just mean… if you don’t want to go in.”
“Why would I volunteer if I didn’t want to go in?”
Jungkook glanced to the side, lips pressed as he shrugged, “I don’t know, probably the same reason you joined the club.”
Maybe it was the stress of the past few days, maybe it was the pressure of shadows encroaching on the car that had Jimin on the edge of heated agitation. He blinked at Jungkook, “And what reason would that be?”
With another shrug and a matter-of-fact tone, Jungkook said, “You’re way too nice.”
Jimin scoffed in disbelief, turning to shake his head, eyes fixed on nothing in particular beyond the windshield. “You are unbelievable,” he muttered before turning back to him. “I joined because I wanted to join. It’s an interesting club, and you—”
“I know you’re not interested in any of this stuff, Jimin. Which is fine, by the way, I just…” Jungkook seemed unable to look Jimin in the eye, and it made his stomach twist, dragging the echos of laughter out of the depths, letting it play around his head. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m dragging you around everywhere.”
“Who said you were dragging me anywhere?”
“I… You…” Jungkook sighed and sank into himself, body facing forward, and his hand flying up to grip the steering wheel. He bit at his lips, eyes darting, finding his words. “You seemed upset when you left the meeting, and then you didn’t want me to come over, so I just thought—”
“No, no, no,” Jimin waved his hands, attempting to clear out any misunderstandings from the car. “That wasn’t— I didn’t feel well. There were just a lot of people, and I guess I got nervous.”
“You got nervous?”
“Yes, I got nervous. I’m human too, you know. You’re not the only one who can be nervous.”
His tone was a bit harsh, notable in the way Jungkook seemed to flinch back, eyes darting away, and lip caught between his teeth.
Jimin sighed, another attempt to clear the air, “I left because I was nervous. You’re not dragging me anywhere. I’m here because I want to be. I want to go inside.”
“Okay, but you—”
“Jesus fuck, Jungkook,” Jimin snapped, “If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t! I would have just signed your petition and forgotten about it. I wouldn’t have signed up. I wouldn’t have shown up early to help you set everything up. I wouldn’t have stayed for the meeting at all. I wouldn’t have volunteered to scout with you. I wouldn’t be here in the car with you right now. Why are you being so weird?”
Jimin’s heart shattered in his icy cold chest when he saw Jungkook’s lip quiver, head turning to look out his own window, reflection dissolved into a stoic form that he couldn’t get to focus right. “I don’t know,” he said after a few seconds. “I guess I’ve just been thinking about things recently, and… I didn’t see you yesterday, so my brain just sort of went into overdrive. I mean, we’re graduating this year, so…”
“So what?”
“So,” Jungkook hesitated before turning back to face Jimin. “I feel like I’ve been wasting your time.”
Jimin tried to find his own words, lost for a moment. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“We’re so different, Jimin.”
“So? What’s wrong with being different?”
“Nothing, I just think we might be too different.”
Mouth hung open slightly, voice caught up in his throat, Jimin stared at Jungkook, sinking more and more into a dreadful confusion.
“I know you don’t like the things that I talk about, or the things that I do, and—”
“I do like it.”
Jungkook cocked his head, a tension in his expression that matched his tone. “You like paranormal shit? You like folklore? Computers? Astronomy? Fantasy games?”
“Yes!” Jimin yells, shoulders flying up and hands flying out. “I mean, I like listening to you talk about them.”
“See? That’s what I mean. All you ever end up doing is listening to me talk, or running off to some stupid bookstore or convention that I want to go to. I never give you a chance to talk about things that you like. We never go and do things you want to do.”
“We do what I want all the time!” Jimin laughed past his agitation, hands gesturing wildly. “You come to my apartment like five times a week to eat food and watch trashy reality TV. And then you listen to me yammer on about all my bullshit opinions on the cast for like five hours straight!”
“Yeah, but like…” Jungkook shook his head with a shrug. “What about your hobbies and interests and… all that?”
Jimin sighed, “Darling, I hate to break it to you, but trash TV and shit-talking are my hobbies and interests.”
“That’s your hobbies and interests?”
“Yes,” he huffed and pushed himself back into his seat, eyes meeting his hands in his lap. “Sorry for being boring.”
“You’re not boring.”
“Yes, I am. You do realize that the only thing I really do with my life is dance, right? And you made it very clear to me freshman year that you hate dancing.”
The tension in the car broke for a moment when Jungkook laughed, a perfectly soft and sweet sound that washed over Jimin, relaxing every muscle in his body. “I hated dancing, yes,” he said, “but I like watching you dance.”
Jimin freezes, breath halted, eyes locked on Jungkook.
“I didn’t really get the hype of it all back then. I only joined the class to get an easy credit. I thought it was all kinds of pompous and… whatever. But watching you… You make it… interesting.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
The hurricane of conflicting feelings welled up in Jimin’s chest again, warm hitting cold with waves of feelings that stirred up oceans and years' worth of wondering, begging. He felt like his skull would crack open and split down the middle, one side flying to Jungkook in the driver’s seat, the other blasting through the window to hide away in the shadows of the glass factory, never to be seen again. “Well, then,” he huffed, flinging his hands up with an exaggerated expression, yanking himself up from the depths. “There we go. I’ll drag you to some of my dance practices, and you can keep dragging me to your conventions. We’ll be even.”
A soft and subtle smile formed as Jungkook nodded, agreeing, before it faded away just as quickly. Expression hardening into something serious, eyes darting yet again. Jimin followed.
“What now?” he asked.
“Do you ever get embarrassed to be seen with me?”
Thrown off yet again, all Jimin could get out was an exasperated, “Huh?!”
Jungkook leans back, hands rubbing roughly over his face before raking through his hair. “The reason I’ve been thinking about this so much is that, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed it or not, but people… look at us… a lot.” He turned to look at Jimin again, leaning in a bit like he was relaying some underground information. “Like, when we’re walking together, people stare at us, and I’ve seen people whispering about us, pointing, laughing. They must see us together and think, god, why is Park Jimin hanging out with someone like him?”
A beat passes between them, just a moment of silence, before Jimin bursts out laughing. Face falling into his hands to stifle the outburst before he throws his head back to shake away the remaining giggles. Eyes not leaving the ceiling, he mutters, “Oh my god, Jungkook, you really are… something.”
“What? Why?”
Jimin rolled his head to the side, taking in the genuine confusion on the other’s face. “That’s not what they’re thinking,” he chuckled. “Trust me.”
“How do you know?”
“Let’s just assume I’m psychic.”
Jungkook nodded, “I could believe that. You usually are the one who knows what everyone is thinking, you know how everyone’s mind works.”
“Not everyone.”
A comfortable silence falls between them, both relaxing, eyes focusing outward through the windshield. Jimin’s mind hums, nerves settling down but not quite numbing out the way he wants them to.
Then Jungkook breaks the silence, his voice small but weightless when it falls on Jimin’s ears, “So, you like being my friend?”
“I love being your friend,” he said, voice stern and clear. “Very much.”
“Good,” Jungkook nods, hands running along the sides of the steering wheel. “I love being your friend, too. That’s why I’d really hate to think that I’ve wasted your time or kept you from… other experiences… other people.”
Jimin reached out and grabbed onto the sleeve of Jungkook’s sweatshirt, tugging on it gently until the other met his eye again. “Absolutely nothing could be a waste with you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
They moved more easily after this. Jimin’s mind quiet and chest light, Jungkook’s jaw at ease, and fidgeting hands steady. They got out of the car together, moving to the back end to grab their flashlights and their required safety gear, each with a fluorescent vest and a hard hat that Jungkook had to force down onto Jimin’s head as he was much too concerned with his hair getting flattened.
Jungkook led the way, long and confident steps through the tall grass that Jimin tried to match, but again and again he would get tripped up on a too-soft patch of mud or a protruding rock. The further away from the car they got, the more aware Jimin became of how isolated they really were. Glancing around, he tried his best to take in his surroundings, but even when he waved his flashlight, it was way too dark.
“Should we be concerned about squatters?” he asked when the entryway was in sight.
“Uh,” Jungkook paused, one foot hovering over the first step up toward the door. “I don’t think so. They didn’t mention anything.”
“How often do the owners come out here?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you know?”
Jungkook leaned back, neck craning backward as he assessed the towering building. “I know this place is big.” He turns to Jimin, shining the flashlight under his chin, exaggerating his wide smile. “And full of spirits.”
Jimin slumped, “We’re gonna fucking die out here, aren’t we?”
“No, we are not going to die,” Jungkook continued up the steps, Jimin trailing behind more reluctantly now. “But if we do, at least we’ll become part of the local legends.”
As Jungkook fiddled with the door, Jimin scanned their surroundings again, shining his light out into the tall grass. “And what exactly are the local legends about this place?”
“Some guy killed himself in here a few years back, but before he did, he told people that there were spirits calling him out to this factory,” he manages to shove the door open, taking one step in and shining his flashlight into the corridor. “They say if you come here at night, the spirits will latch onto your soul, drive you crazy, and make you kill yourself.”
Jimin stood frozen in front of the open door, watching the space between himself and Jungkook grow as the other marched onward. “Um,” he calls out. “I feel like maybe you should have mentioned that part at the meeting.”
“I was going to, but you had already volunteered,” Jungkook shouts back, disappearing into the shadows. He stops, only his light visible as he turns to shine it at Jimin. “Are you coming?”
A little whine escapes Jimin as he hesitates at the door, one foot threatening to pull him back down the stairs and toward the car, but then something skittered through the grass just behind him. “Fuck!” he screamed, dashing into the building and slamming the door closed behind him. In a flash, he was latched onto Jungkook’s arm, face buried in his sleeve.
“I knew you’d get scared,” Jungkook chuckles.
“I heard something out there.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing we’re in here.”
Jungkook shone his light around, and Jimin glanced up to follow the line of sight. Loosening his hold until just his fingers remained latched onto the back of Jungkook’s sleeve, Jimin stared in awe at the wide open space that surrounded them. “Whoa,” he said. “This place is… gutted.”
“Yeah, they’ve been taking stuff out of here for the last year, apparently. They’re planning to knock it down and sell the land.”
“Where are the ghosts supposed to go?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Maybe they’ll stay attached to the land, or maybe the demolition will set them free. Can never be too sure.”
Jungkook moved to slip his bag off his shoulder, kneeling on the ground to pull out some equipment. Jimin took the opportunity to scan the space again. “So, what exactly is the plan here?” he asked.
“Check for structural integrity, make sure nothing is going to collapse on us mid-investigation. That’s the main thing, but I also want to do a few sweeps with some equipment, just to see…”
Jimin nodded, taking slow steps away until he came to the wall. Shining his light upward, scattered images of graffiti, some faded, some fresh, came into focus. His light paused on a bright white heart about ten feet up, massive it felt. Above it, the word ‘Forever,’ and below, ‘Always.’ In the center, two initials blared — ‘J + J.’
Scoffing, Jimin shook his head, “Of course.” He let his light fall, arms hanging limply at his side as he stared up at the image, feeling his nervous system plunge again into a cold heaviness that he wished would just go the fuck away already.
It’s getting old, he thought to himself, and the longer he stared up at the painted heart, surrounded by a crumbling infrastructure, he could only see himself reflected. A screaming display of desperation, a pathetic performance of desire, was left wasted in a gutted factory. Unnoticed, unwanted, completely pointless. That heart is just paint wasted on a withering wall, and he was just a well of feelings left abandoned, hollow, and depleted.
And then, a sharp sound sliced through the air and cracked against Jimin’s spine, causing him to jolt and drop his flashlight. With a yelp, he spun around, the sound continuing to chirp. His eyes fell on Jungkook, a small device in his hand, rainbow lights flickering in sync with the loud beeps. “What the fuck is that?!” he yelled out.
“EMF detector,” the other said simply as Jimin bent down to grab his light, making his way over to him. “It detects spikes in energy, potentially detects spirits.”
“Why is it beeping like that? Is there something here?”
Jungkook’s expression was serious, eyebrows pinched together as he moved the device slowly around himself, the beeps lessening in one direction, amping up in another. Jungkook began to move slowly, letting the device guide him, and Jimin trailed behind, suspicious eyes locked on the flickering lights.
A good thirty feet, they made it across the factory floor, darkness creeping in around them more and more as they entered an open space with no windows. Pitch black pooled at the edge of their casted light, and Jimin huddled closer and closer to Jungkook. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the beeping stopped completely. Dead silence fell onto them, and Jimin’s ears began to ring. “Why’d it stop?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Jungkook waved the device around again, slowly scanning side to side.
A couple of minutes passed as they stood there in the silence, frozen solid in anticipation, but nothing more came. Jungkook glanced around with his lights, catching the sight of a metal staircase that went up to an overhang that led into what appeared to be offices or storage rooms.
“I’ll go up there to make sure the walkways are safe,” he said.
“By yourself?”
“Well, if it comes crashing down, it would be better if there was one of us still able to get help.”
“Right,” Jimin nodded.
Without another word, Jungkook passed Jimin the EMF detector and walked with confident steps up the stairs, the metal banging and creaking as he did. Jimin watched him like a hawk, his own light and the device forgotten at his side. He nearly shat himself when Jungkook got onto the walkway and started hopping like a rabbit, a loud bang reverberating through the space.
“Oh my god!” he yelled out. “Can you not do that?”
“I have to make sure it’s not going to fall down,” the other replied simply, his voice sounding quiet with the distance between them.
Rolling his eyes, Jimin shook his head and began to scan his surroundings. An eerie feeling came over him, a cold chill as he took in the vast expanse of space around him, how exposed he felt even in the shadows.
A sound came up behind him, a small tap on the cement floor that had him gasping as he spun around, light cast at nothing in particular. His eyes darted around, body held frozen to not cause any noise, his ears focused. “Um,” he whispered. “Hello?”
As if in response, the EMF detector beeped in his hand, just once, then twice, lights flickering in unison. Jimin felt his stomach drop, his throat go dry, and his hair stand up on his arms as a wave of goosebumps hit.
“Are you…” He continued. “Are you a ghost?”
The device beeped again.
“Oh my god,” he huffed, head falling with a slight groan. “Of course, there would actually be a fucking ghost.”
Beep. Beep.
Jimin stared down at the device in his hand, the lights flickering continuously with the beeps only popping up periodically now. “Uh… Jungkook?” he called out. When nothing came back, he glanced up at the walkway above. Nothing but shadows and dead silence. He blinked at the emptiness. “Right…”
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
A slight bit of panic ran over him, the legends coming to mind. “Mr. Ghost,” he mumbled. “Please, don’t possess me and make me kill myself. There’s a man up there that I’m desperately in love with, and if I die before I even get to kiss him, I swear to god, I’ll double haunt the hell out of you. And trust me, I can be very annoying when I want to be.”
The lights and the beeping both cut off instantly, leaving Jimin stuck in place for a moment before the device suddenly blared in a long, whining screech, all the lights lit up in a steady pulse. Jimin yelped and flung the device to the ground, turning on his heel and running like mad up the stairs, his footsteps banging the whole way.
Reaching the edge of the walkway, Jimin held onto the railing and shone his light downward at the space below. The device was beeping rhythmically, lights dancing in the shadows. “Jugkook,” he called out. “There’s something down there.”
When no response came, Jimin looked down the way, four doors standing open, but no sign of Jungkook’s light or any discernable noise. Slowly, he moved, his light scanning the wall and peering into each room as he passed them by. Jungkook had disappeared.
“What the fuck,” he hissed. “Mr. Ghost, I swear, if you stole my—”
“Why’d you come up?”
A shrill scream slipped out of Jimin’s mouth as he stumbled to the side, body hitting the wall as he attempted to turn around on unsteady feet. Blinded by Jungkook’s light, he just barely could make out the other’s form, wide eyes staring back at him, before an eruption of laughter replaced his screams.
“Jungkook!”
“What are you doing?” he asked, attempting to stifle his laugh.
“I— You… What are you doing?!” he pointed with an accusing finger. “Where were you? Why didn’t you answer me!”
“I was in the closet,” he gestured toward the last room, Jimin catching a glimpse of another open door within the room.
He slumped, a deadpan expression replacing his panic, “hilarious.”
“Why’d you come up here?”
“There was paranormal activity occurring down there, and I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Really?” Jungkook perked. “What happened?”
“The little machine was beeping.”
“It tends to do that.”
“No, I mean it was beeping beeping, like big beeping. Like it was responding to me at first, and then I said something, and it just started shrieking, and it was all lit up, and— It was scary!”
“What did you say to set it off?”
“I—” Jimin froze for a moment, mouth hung open as he thought back. “I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember?”
“The human brain represses trauma.”
Jungkook sucked in his lips, an amused smile kept at bay before he snorted and shook his head. “Alright then,” he said as he turned on his heel and slipped back into the office. “You should stay with me. Don’t want to lose you to the dark forces that reside here.”
Jimin rolled his eyes, a soft smile breaking his pressed lips as he followed behind with slow steps. The office was small with a much lower cieling that one would expect, making the space feel cozier than the main floor, even with the hazy blue cast coming through filtered windows and the dusty smell that wafted through the air.
In the office’s closet, Jungkook stood over a filing cabinet, flashlight set on the top of it, pointing toward the ceiling, lighting up the entirety of the small space. Jimin stood in the doorway, arms and legs both crossed as he leaned against the frame. He watched Jungkook flip through various folders, opening other drawers and working his way down the line.
“Anything interesting?”
“No,” Jungkook said. “Just being nosy.”
Jimin nodded and rested his head on the frame of the door, eyes never leaving Jungkook’s face, a slight heat never leaving his cheeks. “Don’t want to lose you to the dark forces that reside here,” rang through his head, and he just barely had enough willpower to keep it from bursting into something he knows it isn’t.
Oh, but what if it was? It’s much too dark and quiet in this place for him to not let his mind wander, to not let the dust in the air blur his vision into a perfect dream where, yes, of course, Jeon Jungkook would fight off a whole legion of demons to keep Jimin by his side. Not even Satan himself could keep hold of Jimin, or keep Jungkook from him. There would be nothing in all of the Universe, in any dimension, in any reality that would keep them apart. Their souls would be stitched together forever, as plain and simple as the initials embedded in the wall under their feet.
Jimin’s eyes fluttered closed, jaw clenching at the reminder of their one-sided, dilapidated love affair, the reality of them. It was like a crushing blow to the gut, to be so aware of what he wants and so aware that he can never have it, most likely will die hollow and unsatisfied, begging for another lifetime to do it right. Preferably one where he isn’t scared shitless of rejection, and Jungkook isn’t as dumb as a box of rocks.
“It was probably just wiring.”
Jimin’s eyes flew open, a slight jolt running through his body when Jungkook spoke. Crouched down now, looking through the bottom drawer, Jungkook continued to flick through papers. “What?” Jimin asked, straightening up.
“The EMF detector picks up on electrical stuff,” he clarifies, glancing up at Jimin. “So, it probably wasn’t a ghost, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried,” he shrugged.
“Oh,” Jungkook nodded, looking back down into the drawer. “You looked worried.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah, you were doing that cheek-chewing thing.”
“Oh, no, I was just—” Jimin cut himself off, waving his hand with a shrug. He turned sideways in the doorway, pressing his back into the frame and glancing out into the office, eyes scanning the space with his flashlight. Sucking in his bottom lip, he pushed off the wall and strolled into the office, feet heavy and wandering with no real destination. He ends up at the windows where a blue plastic was draped, slightly torn in the corners, with only a sliver of a view visible of the outside.
He could feel himself sinking again, but this time it wasn’t into the laughter of others or Jungkook’s upset face. He was sinking into the dead silence of this dark and dusty place, so perfectly surreal, letting him drift so easily between fantasy and reality. It was a painful dance that he could feel in his chest, a tug and a pull, a twist and a pinch. Maybe this is what it feels like when souls break up with each other because their physical bodies are too stupid to figure shit out.
“Jimin?”
With a slight wobble, Jimin turns around into the cast of Jungkook’s flashlight. He tries to smile.
Jungkook stares for just a second before speaking. “We can go if you want to.”
“No,” he shakes his head quickly. “No, I’m totally fine. I just… um…” He really tries to smile.
Jimin’s eyes fall away from the shadows of Jungkook’s face and begin to follow the raining dust that catches in the light between them. Feeling the edge of the windowsill grazing his back, he can’t help but picture himself plastered to the wall, cracked and withering like a graffiti heart discovered by an urban explorer passing by. He could feel a part of him screaming on the inside, some kind of death rattle warning him of the inevitable end. The second Jungkook’s light leaves him, he’ll fade into a mess of crumbled rock to be pulverized and lost to the wind.
“Whoa, hey,” Jungkook takes the necessary three steps forward to close the space between himself and Jimin, tossing his light onto the desk, aimed at the ceiling, lighting the place up well enough. “What’s wrong?”
Face burning with shame, Jimin felt the tears running down his cheeks, but he held a tight smile as he attempted to avoid eye contact. “Nothing,” he forced a laugh. “Really, I’m fine, I just… my head is just a little…”
“A little what?” Jungkook took another step closer, reaching out to grab onto Jimin’s forearm.
Jimin yanked his arm out of Jungkook’s grip, “Can you not…” His voice caught in his throat when he looked into the other’s eyes, glistening in the blue light, wide open, focused on him, assessing every little detail. He wanted to rip his own heart out of his chest. “I’m sorry.”
With a quick sidestep, Jimin moved past Jungkook, nearly running toward the exit before he was stopped in his tracks by Jungkook’s voice, caught in his throat just the same, strained in a way he hasn’t heard in a long time.
“Jimin, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said. Jimin didn’t dare to turn around to look, knowing full well Jungkook was never one to try to hide his own tears when they came along. “You’ve been acting weird, and now you’re not talking to me? If I did something to piss you off, please—”
“I’m fine, Jungkook.”
“You’re clearly not. You’re really starting to freak me out, okay?”
“I’m not trying to freak you out.”
“I know you’re not trying to, but you are!” Jungkook yelled. “You usually tell me when something is wrong, and right now, there is clearly something wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong!” Jimin spun around, hands flying out.
“Then why are you crying?!”
“Why are you crying?!”
“Because you’re crying and you’re not telling me why, and it’s pissing me off!”
“Well, you’re pissing me off!”
“Why?!”
“Because you—” By the grace of god, Jimin caught himself before he let his heart spray paint the damn room. He swallowed it all down, catching his breath and biting back the urge to scream. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Jungkook questioned, brows scrunched together, frustration clearly building. “So, you’re lying to me now? Is this a new thing, or have you been doing it for a while?”
“Yeah, Jungkook, I’ve been lying to you forever. It’s one of my hobbies, thanks for finally taking notice.”
“So, that is the issue?” he slumped. “Jimin, I swear, I’m not trying to force you into—”
“Oh my god, no!” Jimin screeched. “Just shut up!”
Jimin folded in on himself, crouching down, resting back on his heels, hands over his ears with his eyes squeezed shut. Sensory deprivation. His heartbeat thumped erratically in his ears, and he could feel the tears on his cheeks slicing into the heat that was rising up there, a dreadful shame he wasn’t sure he was ever going to get rid of. “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him,” blew through his mind like a fly begging to be squashed.
And then, a warm wave rolls down his body from the top of his head, where he feels a hand run through his hair. Relaxing into the sensation, he allows Jungkook to push his head back slightly, eyes opening and hands easing up on his ears. Jungkook was crouched in front of him, eyes still full of tears, but a cold and dead-locked focus zeroing in on him, eyes piercing through every last defense he has in his arsenal.
“What’s wrong, Jimin?” his voice is soft, an easy whisper coasting through the space between them, tying Jimin’s nerves to the sound that seems to lighten every strain in his body.
Jimin’s lip trembles, “You really haven’t noticed, have you?”
Eyes flickering away for a moment, Jungkook seems to ponder before he stares Jimin down again. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”
Jimin sighs and shoots up to stand straight, wiping his face with his sleeves and taking in a deep breath. Jungkook stands too, and Jimin can feel his eyes burning holes straight through him as he glances around the room, looking for any kind of anchor he can latch onto, something to keep his mind from blaring, the ringing in his ears sending waves of goosebumps over his skin.
Beep. Beep.
Jimin’s focus snaps to the sound of the EMF detector, faded and distant, nearly a whisper of its own. He could feel a pull unlike any he’s ever felt when he looks back at Jungkook. His breath catches, stutters as he tries to steady it, tries to clamp his mouth closed around what he can feel bubbling up.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Jimin is sure he’s not making it out of here alive.
“Jungkook, I’m getting something,” Jimin speaks clearly, an extra breath to his tone as he steps aside. Dramatic as ever, he moves around the room, head turning as if he’s in search of something.
“What?”
“My psychic senses are kicking in and…” he stops in the center of the room, eyes locked on Jungkook. “Yes, I’m picking up on an idiot who doesn’t know when someone is flirting with him.”
Jungkook noticeably freezes in place, eyes darting around, growing wider and wider in an excited panic. “Like… in here, or?”
“Mm,” Jimin hums, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, hands stretching out in front of him to comb into the air. “Yes, he is here.”
“Oh, fuck, I’ll go get the EMF—”
“No!” Jimin threw his hand out toward Jungkook, causing the other to halt mid-step at the edge of the doorway. “There’s… a portal.”
“A portal?”
“Yes, a portal. You opened a portal in this room by mistake. If you leave now, it… It’s over. It will all come crashing down.”
“The factory?!”
“No! Jesus,” Jimin rolled his eyes. “The portal will close and… we won’t be able to make contact anymore. Like, forever.”
Jungkook seemed skeptical, but nodded, planting himself firmly in his spot by the door, eyes coming to focus on Jimin again. “Do… Do you see anyone?”
“Yes,” Jimin nods. “I see him very clearly.”
“What does he look like?”
Jimin’s lips quirk into a small smile, “He’s tall. Very handsome. Seems like he has a lot to say, but when people try to make contact, he never responds.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” Jimin makes slow strides around the room. “He’s just an idiot, I guess.”
“An idiot who doesn’t know when someone is flirting?” he asks.
Jimin nods. “Precisely.”
“Must be lonely.”
“One would assume so, yes,” Jimin tilts his head. “But here I am, trying to talk to him, and he’s acting like I’m just some random stranger passing by, even though I went through all this trouble to be here.”
“How do we get through to him? Like, how do we get him to talk?”
“You tell me.”
Jungkook shrugged, a confused look on his face as he seemed to search the space for the answer. “I don’t know, I mean,” he slips his bag off his shoulders, tossing it onto the desk. “I don’t have the ouija board, but I—”
“No, use your brain, Jungkook.”
“I’m not the psychic one here, you are!”
“Oh my god, Jungkook, just think about it,” Jimin breathes. “Just think about an idiot who doesn’t know when people are flirting with him.”
With his mouth hanging open like a dumbfounded fish, Jungkook motioned around the room. “I— How? I don’t— Where is he even at?”
“He’s right in front of me!” Jimin couldn’t help but laugh, throwing his hands out, gesturing toward Jungkook.
“Really? Like he’s right here?”
“Yes! He’s right here.”
In a scramble, Jungkook grabbed his bag again, nearly ripping it open to pull out a Polaroid camera. “I can’t see him, but if I take a picture, maybe we—”
“Oh my god!” Jimin yells, a laugh bubbling out after. “You are the idiot, Jungkook! The idiot is you!”
Lowering the camera from his face, he blinked at Jimin over the top of it. “What do you mean?”
After the deepest breath he could muster, Jimin sighs away the last bit of self-preservation he had left, the last of his desire to hold onto any dignity at all. “You’re the idiot who never knows when someone is flirting with you,” he says simply. “You… You never know when I’m flirting with you.”
Jimin could feel his teeth begin to chatter as the nerves took over again, a sudden rush of anxiety that overloaded his system in a matter of seconds as he watched the color drain from Jungkook’s face. Mouth hanging open, and eye twitching just slightly, Jungkook stared back, camera still perched in his hand.
“Elaborate,” was all that made it out of Jungkook’s mouth, muffled by his own breath.
“Um,” Jimin broke eye contact, focus falling to his own hands where they fidgeted together over his stomach, tugging at his shirt. “I, uh… I like you. I like you a lot. Like, a lot more than a friend would like another friend… You know?”
Jungkook’s lack of response and movement only ramped up the anxious word vomit that was ready to spill out of Jimin.
“I mean, I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened, you know? And I… I tried not to, but you’re very… um, you know, like, I… You’re very— I like everything about you, and it was hard not to like you more than that, so I—”
“How long?”
A nervous chuckle slipped passed his lips, still too overwhelmed to lift his head. “Well, I mean, you did make quite an impression on me when you fell down the stairs on that first day of class.”
“Oh my god,” The camera slipped out of Jungkook’s hands as they flew up to rest on the top of his head, a loud clatter striking a bit more tension into Jimin’s body as the camera hit the desk. “Oh my fucking god.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Oh my fucking god!”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Oh my fucking god!”
“Jungkook—”
“Oh my fucking GOD!”
“Jungkook, I’m really going to need you to say something else before I throw myself through this fucking window.”
Heavy breaths heaved through Jungkook’s body, eyes locking with Jimin’s from across the room. “Say it again. Repeat what you just said.”
Jimin fidgeted, “I said I… like you.”
“More than a friend?”
“More than a friend,” he confirmed. “I mean, if we’re being completely honest here, I should probably say I’m in love with—”
A lightning bolt struck in the room when Jungkook rushed to Jimin, his hand meeting him first, fingers gripping into his hair to hold him steady. His lips were the next to make contact. A tentative, soft, and exploratory pressure that blew straight through Jimin’s mind and body, forcing his awareness up and out, threatening to float away from it all. His hands latched onto Jungkook’s sweatshirt, holding onto him as if he really was the only thing keeping him there.
It was mere seconds, but time felt as if it slowed down just for them, the raining dust halting mid-air just to sparkle like stars in Jimin’s peripheral vision, reflecting a dazzling star-storm in Jungkook’s eyes when they separated. Just a few centimeters between them, the heat of Jungkook’s breath brushed against the sensitive skin of Jimin’s lips. He melted into it, an uncertainty wrapped in the glory of a dream come true. “Holy fuck,” was all he could muster.
“You…” Jungkook began, head falling for a moment to catch his breath, fingers still tethered to Jimin’s hair. Then he looked up, “You have driven me fucking insane since freshman year.”
“Me?!” he laughed.
“Yes, you,” he yanked Jimin back to him, meeting his lips again in a swift peck that left a smile behind on Jimin’s face. “You have no fucking idea how many times I tried asking you out. I chickened out every time.”
“Are you—” Jungkook cut him off with another kiss. “ —serious?”
“Yes, I just… I didn’t think you would say yes, and I figured I’d rather be your friend than that weird, gross guy that asked you out that you don’t talk to anymore, you know?”
“How the fuck could you even think that? I have been throwing myself at you since day one. You have been driving me crazy!”
A warm laugh erupted from Jungkook, his body vibrating into Jimin’s. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t think you realize how intimidating you can be.”
“Me? Intimidating?” Jimin gawked. “In what fucking world.”
“My world.”
Tilting his head down, Jimin smiled. He could feel his cheeks burning and his head spinning, greatful to be in the other’s grasp because, surely, at this point, he’d be flat on the ground otherwise. The quiet of the room hounded him, his heart pounding in his ears, Jungkook’s heart against his chest. “Oh my god,” he muttered.
“What?” Jungkook leaned back, his hand coming up to pull Jimin back up to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
Eyes glimmering with the happiest tears his body has ever conjured, Jimin gleamed, a soft sigh sliding past his lips. “This is just the craziest thing, I… I feel like I’m going to pass out.”
Jungkook smiled, his hand gliding down and holding onto Jimin’s cheek, fingers curving under his jaw. “Thank god you signed the release form.”
With his head falling forward into Jungkook’s chest, Jimin chuckles, eyes fluttering shut as he relaxed in the plush warmth of the other. “Yeah,” he smiled. “Thank god.” Pushing himself forward even more, Jimin wrapped his arms around Jungkook, standing himself flush to his chest, every nevre in his body lighting up as he felt the other’s arms wrap around him just as tightly. The pressure was all around him steadied every cell in his body, and his mind swam in the dusty silence around them.
“You really like me?” Jungkook’s voice danced softly against Jimin’s hair, his breath teasing his skin.
“Jungkook, I love you,” The words fell so easily from his mouth, fragile and small, but carrying the weight of the last few years, the last few breakdowns, a sea of percieved rejections, and a few sleepless nights. “I’ve loved you for a long time. You’re my favorite.”
“Your favorite?” his chuckle hummed through Jimin’s body, a sensation he wanted to hold onto desperately.
“My most favorite,” Jimin affirms. “I nearly lost my mind for you.”
Jimin could feel the slight tremble in Jungkook’s hand where it stayed on his cheek, holding him up and thethering him to the moment. The light sparkled in his eyes so brilliantly, the slightest evidence of his own overwhelm catching on his lashes. “I sure hope so,” he laughed. “I’d hate for people to think I’m a player.”
“God,” Jimin huffed, his head falling into Jungkook’s chest where he nuzzled his forehead. “You’re an idiot. It’s not like people don’t already think we’re together.”
“Yeah,” the other hummed. “They do think that, don’t they.”
Eyeing him up, Jimin stepped back with squinted eyes. “You heard the rumors?”
“I, uh…” Jungkook took a step back to match, his hands brushing over his sides. “I kinda started them.”
Jimin’s mouth and eyes flew open, “You what?!”
With his hands flying up in defense, a panicked look came over Jungkook’s face. “Please don’t be mad, it was an accident, I didn’t think he would say anything.”
“Who?!”
Jimin’s mouth and eyes remained frozen open, a slight quirk to the lips appearing as Jungkook dragged his feet to the edge of the desk where he slumped himself over, chest lying flat against the table. “Can we please forget about that part of the story?” he groaned against the tabletop.
“No fucking way,” Jimin reached over and grabbed onto the back of Jungkook’s jacket, yanking him up. “Spill.”
Jungkook sighed and slid himself back to a standing position, a childish frown carved into his face, lower lip jutting out as he looked ahead at Jimin. “Will you still like me if I tell you?”
“Depends,” he says simply, arms crossing over his chest and eyebrow cocked up in interest.
“Alright, fine.” Jungkook starts, “Last year, Kim Namjoon asked me to ask you out for him. I… got a bit… territorial, I suppose.”
“Territorial?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a dog?”
“I can be.”
Jimin shook his head, a fond laugh breaking his attempt at seeming serious. “What did you say exactly?”
“I just said…” he shrugs and tosses his head to the side. “That we already were kind of, sort of, I guess had a thing going on.”
“A thing?”
“I believe my exact words were, we’re in a talking stage.”
A laugh blew out of Jimin and knocked dust off the wall. Flying to the side, he wailed against the desk, sides splitting with hysterics. “No fucking way,” he wheezed. “You told Kim Namjoon that we were in a talking stage?!”
“I panicked! He was hot! And a senior!”
“Oh yeah, hot seniors, just my type.”
“You said he was hot once.”
“He is hot, that doesn’t mean I want to sit around and listen to him talk about… whatever the fuck he’s into.” Jimin laughs, shaking his head in fond disbelief, a warm haze rizing from his chest.
Sucking in his bottom lip, Jungkook stifles another laugh, casting his eyes down to the floor. Jimin eyed him carefully, taking note of the slightly folded posture and pink cheeks that seemed to blaze to life admist the shadows. A silence fell between them, one that gave Jimin a chance to catch his breath and Jungkook to catch his nerves.
Jimin shifted on his feet, a nervous sway as he pursed his lips in thought. He nearly jolted out of his skin when Jungkook spoke again.
“So…” he offered. He eyed Jimin through his lashes.
“So?” Jimin chuckled back.
“So, what now?” he asked, seeming suddenly skpetical, eyes darting around the room, hands flying up in question. Jimin couldn’t help but laugh.
Gesturing toward the desk, Jimin raised his eyebrows, “We can get a quick fuck in before we leave.”
Jungkook nearly fell over with his quick steps back, eyes widening as they flashed between Jimin and the desk. “I, no, we— I’ve never… We can’t—”
“I’m kidding!” He stepped forward, reaching out to grab onto Jungkook’s arm, a gentle grasp. The other relaxed immediately, a softness falling back into his expression. “How about a date?”
Wide eyes peered down, “a date?”
Jimin nods, “yeah, a proper date. Where you pay and I talk about myself for a whole hour.”
“A real date?”
“Yes! A real date!” he laughs. “You already kissed me, if I go home empty handed people might think I’m easy.”
Jungkook’s expression faultered again, eyes falling to the side as he chewed his lip. “I…” he cleared his throat. “I’ve never really been on a date before. A proper date, I mean.”
Through all his restraint, Jimin’s lips quirked into a devilish smirk, “Need me to talk you through it?”
The giddiest smile broke out onto the others face, a knowing glint in his eye before tossing his head back, the blush noticeable still. “Yes, please.”
Giggling like school children up to no good, they wrapped themselves around each other yet again, Jimin stepping up to capture Jungkook’s lips, the other creating a cage around his waist. Pulling back, Jimin stared deep into Jungkook’s eyes, taking note that this is the closest they’ve ever been, as deep as they’ve ever been. Part of him wanted to stay right there, never leave, become a permanent fixture that will be bulldozed down with everything else in the coming months. Just to ensure this feeling wouldn’t end, couldn’t end. Another part of him, however, was desperate to see where the night would take them. “Then, let’s go.”
Hand in hand, they glided back down to the main floor, Jungkook’s flashlight leading the way, and a charming trail of stifled laughter being left behind, etching their excitement into every particle of dust that danced around them. They were heading toward the exit when Jimin remembered the EMF detector, “Oh!” he let go of Jungkook’s hand and jogged toward the wall where it had landed. “Your thing.”
Jungkook, with calm and cool steps, followed behind, peering over Jimin’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around him yet again, chest pressed to his back. Jimin brushed off the device and looked it over.
“I think it’s okay,” he said simply, turning out of the others embrace to hand it to him.
Jungkook took it, eyed it, then glanced up at Jimin with a squint. “Did you really have an experience down here, or was that whole thing just a clever and very dramatic way of making a confession.”
“No!” Jimin scoffed. “I— there was something! It was definitely making noise and lighting up, and it… yelled at me pretty much.”
Jungkook tilted his head, eyes squinting even more with skepticism.
“What? You don’t believe me?”
“No, no, I believe you,” he said, tucking the device into his bag. “I’ll make a note of it for the investigation. Tempermental spirit likes to scare the small and frail when left alone.”
“Frail?!”
Jungkook turned, hiding his smirk as he cast the light over the floor, taking a few steps to scan closer to the wall. “Did you drop anyhing else?”
“No, I don’t think so, I—”
Both of them stood frozen, Jimin’s eyes glued to the back of Jungkook’s head, Jungkook’s eyes glued to the graffiti heart on the wall, illuminated gloriously. Jungkook turned, light still cast on the wall, eyes deep and glimering in reflected light as he stared back at Jimin. For a moment, the image presented to him, Jungkook sillohetted by the glowing heart, their initials etched into the wall, appeared like a rising sun. The dust that drifted through the light hit like a light pollen in summer, warmth building so graciously that he thinks it might linger for quite some time.
“Must be a sign,” Jungkook says, a smile cracking that wide-eyed expression before he turned back to stare at the evidence of something much greater than the afterlife.
“Yeah,” Jimin blinked through a haze of budding tears, happy to have been discovered, happy to have not been abandoned here with everything else. “It must be.”
Enjoy? Support! 👀 (incredibly grateful if you're able to, things have been rough since the start of the year.)