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LOVE IS NOT OVER PT.1: Valentine's Day
Stats:
Published:
2017-02-09
Words:
4,698
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
26
Kudos:
614
Bookmarks:
93
Hits:
6,358

this feels like the first time

Summary:

(you look up to the sky, you long for something more.)

Notes:

to be read to the tune of "fucking boyfriend" by the birds and the bees

Work Text:

The Student Music Organization's sign is obnoxious, fat block letters drawn in blue on orange paper, but even more attention-grabbing is the voice of the guy standing on a chair behind the table, serenading passers-by. He's singing the main theme of that SBS drama Jungkook keeps meaning to watch, but appears to be ad-libbing lines about the music club and how great they are, and Jungkook would probably be impressed if every fiber of his being wasn't writhing with secondhand embarrassment. The students walking by keep tittering to themselves, but the guy seems oblivious, and the longer Jungkook watches, it does become apparent that the technique is working—a few young-looking students, probably freshman, approach and are welcomed by another, quieter but equally smiley member of the group manning the booth.

It's an interesting way to gain members, Jungkook thinks. But he's not actually here to join the music club—he's hear to look for the business frat, and the music club just happens to be directly in between where Jungkook currently is and where he's trying to go.

A clump of freshman passes by, and Jungkook, using them as cover, tries his best to studiously avoid the bright blue-and-orange music club sign, willing himself to become invisible until he's out of range. Unfortunately, in spite of—or perhaps because of—his best efforts, he's no more than ten steps into his arduous journey when the singer on the chair belts out, "Tall sophomore with the blue shirt, look no further, you have found where you are going!"

Jungkook freezes, then glances down. Blue shirt. "Me?" he mouths, pointing to himself, and the singer on the chair nods emphatically.

"You just look like a future musician," he says, thankfully now in a speaking voice, although his volume is still several decibels higher than Jungkook would like it to be. "Maybe it's the artfully distressed look of your jeans, I don't know. I've never been wrong about a future member before, don't tell me I'm about to start now?"

In an effort to perhaps get the chair singer to reduce his volume, Jungkook takes a couple reluctant steps closer to the table. A cluster of girls glance at him from the next table. Helping Hands Student Volunteers, Jungkook recalls. "Well," he says, "actually I'm—"

"A vocal music major with a focus in the subculture origins of modern electronic dance music?" the chair singer supplies.

Jungkook shakes his head. "Undeclared, but probably going for business," he says, and watches the chair singer's face fall.

"Oh," he says, sounding dejected.

Jungkook is about to say something, like, sorry I'm not your guy or better luck with the next sophomore in a blue shirt, but then he sees something that stops his words in his mouth. Or rather, he sees someone, another guy coming up to the table with an iced coffee in one hand and a put-upon expression on his face, like he would rather be anywhere than here. He ruffles the smiley greeter's hair and hands him a bag with a café logo on it. He looks completely unapproachable. Jungkook swallows hard.

"But," he says aloud, making the chair singer turn back to him with an expectant look. "But, I do sing, sometimes. As a hobby."

The chair singer's face splits into a grin. "Perfect," he says. "Welcome to Student Music."

The chair singer's name is Taehyung, Jungkook learns on that first day, and the smiley greeter is Jimin, both of them juniors. Taehyung is double majoring in vocal and composition, with an emphasis in Korean traditional music, and Jimin is actually a dance major, but he's Taehyung's best friend and has a lovely singing voice (says Taehyung), so he comes to all the meetings even if he rarely performs. He learns that Jimin is also from Busan, and Taehyung from Daegu, so the conversation at the signup table becomes a brief flurry of dialect, earning just as many curious looks from passers-by as the singing had.

Taehyung and Jimin both seem like great guys, but if Jungkook is left with one regret, it's this: amidst the hectic rush of conversation and enthusiasm, the older guy with the coffee disappears, and Jungkook can't think of a way to ask about him without giving away his intentions. So, he leaves with a flier advertising the first club meeting and a hope that Coffee Guy will turn up there.

In the craziness of the first week of classes, Jungkook all but forgets about the club meeting—at least, until he gets a message in a group chat reminding him not to miss it. After that, it's all he can think about, butterflies flapping with obnoxious wing strength in his stomach as he heads up the hill towards the building where the club meets.

"Jungkook!" Taehyung exclaims, when Jungkook pushes the door open a little and sticks his head cautiously inside. "Hi, good, I was worried you were going to forget—"

"Me?" Jungkook says. "I got the message—"

"You left me on read," Taehyung says, breezily, gesturing for Jungkook to come inside. "Come in, come in, we're still waiting for a few people so just pick a seat anywhere! Actually our advisor isn't even here yet…"

Everything seems to happen at 100 kilometers per hour with these guys. Jungkook just shrugs and accepts it, coming inside and finding a seat in the middle-front-ish of the classroom. There are a few others there already—Taehyung and Jimin, a guy with earbuds in and his head down on a desk, a group of four or five students having a hushed conversation, a girl sitting nervously on her hands. Jungkook offers the girl a little smile and a nod of acknowledgement, which she returns. "How many people are we waiting for?" he asks, looking back up at Taehyung.

"Like three more confirmed members," Jimin says, flipping through a folder, "and our advisor. Our president is—" He indicates the guy with his head down on the table. "Present, in body if not in spirit."

"I can hear you," the guy mumbles.

Jimin laughs and closes the folder. "Namjoon hyung is a comp major too, he and Taehyung are in the same department," he says. "But hyung is a senior, so he's trying to catch up on all his beauty sleep before they start working him hard."

Namjoon mumbles something else, but it's drowned out by the sound of the door opening. "Hey kids," says the newcomer, who is (disappointingly) not Coffee Guy from the club recruitment table. "Yoongi's not coming, he got held up at work, so he said we should go on without him, leave him to die, etcetera."

"Did he," Namjoon says, finally lifting his head from the table.

"Maybe not in those exact words," says the new guy. He drops his stuff next to chair at the front of the room and takes a seat, then pulls out a theory of music textbook. "Go ahead, I'm just here to supervise."

Introductions go fairly quickly. Namjoon is president, which Jungkook already knew; Taehyung is vice president and Jimin is secretary-slash-treasurer, mostly because Taehyung's handwriting is abysmal (quote Jimin). The new guy is Seokjin, a graduate student who serves as their part-time advisor when their actual advisor, Yoongi—another grad student—isn't able to come to meetings. Jungkook can only assume that Yoongi is to Coffee Guy as Clark Kent is to Superman, although once again, there's no subtle way to slide that question into conversation, least of all not in front of everybody else at the meeting.

It's a good meeting, though, irrespective of Coffee Guy's absence. Namjoon is clear about what the club does—part homework help group, part underground crew (in a loose sense of the word), part music appreciation organization. They have weekly meetings, although they may sometimes be unofficial meetings in someone's dorm room or common area, and a calendar of music events taking place around the city. Occasionally, groups of students, or the whole club, participate in festivals or competitions, but rarely for money and rarely everyone at the same time. Namjoon hooks his laptop up to the projector and shows some pictures from past events, and even Jungkook—who has never in his life considered actually going onstage and performing music in front of people—has to admit that it looks pretty cool.

Unfortunately, there's also a part of the meeting that involves self-introductions. Jungkook's situated solidly in the middle of everyone else, but by the time it's his turn to speak, he is keenly aware that he's likely the only non-music major in the room.

"I'm Jungkook," he says, "I'm a sophomore. Uh, I'm from Busan"—here, Jimin whoops—"and I live on campus and… don't major in music."

"What do you major in?" Namjoon asks.

"I'm undeclared," Jungkook answers, hesitantly. He's thankful that although Namjoon's eyebrows go up, he doesn't comment on Jungkook's lack of direction. Still, Jungkook is keenly aware of the surprised looks being directed at him by the other students in the room. Even though it's technically allowed, it is uncommon for a sophomore to remain undeclared.

He's saved from an explanation when the girl to his left begins to introduce herself, but his discomfort must be evident on his face, because when the meeting is over, Namjoon comes up to him and pats his shoulder. "Don't worry too much about it," he says. "Yoongi hyung was undeclared until the very end of his sophomore year, and he's doing pretty well for himself."

"Thanks," Jungkook says. He bites back any explanation he's tempted to give.

"I'm glad you came," Namjoon says. "Even if you're not a music major, or you don't turn out to be a music major. It's worth it to pursue the things that interest you, I think."

Although the word disappointment is heavy in the back of Jungkook's mind, he can't help but nod in agreement. "Yeah, I think so too," he says, and returns Namjoon's smile.

Jungkook hears Jimin yelling his name long before he sees him, a phenomenon that leaves Jungkook turning his head in every possible direction to look for the source of the voice. He eventually spots Jimin sitting at a table in front of the small campus café, taking advantage of the uncommonly warm March weather. As Jungkook gets closer, though, he realizes that Jimin isn't alone. Worse yet, Jimin is accompanied by none other than the person who Jungkook is least prepared to meet at random on his way back from his accounting class: Coffee Guy, in the flesh.

"Hi," Jimin says, when Jungkook is close enough that he doesn't have to yell. "Going to class?"

"Coming from," Jungkook says. "Accounting. You?"

"I'm free until seven," Jimin says. "This is Yoongi hyung, he's keeping me company because he likes me way more than he likes Taehyung."

"Whatever you say," Yoongi says mildly. He glances up at Jungkook, then says, "Sophomore from Busan?"

Jungkook isn't ready to be put on the spot, and is definitely not ready to work through the hows of Yoongi being in possession of that particular knowledge. He nods, mutely, meeting Yoongi's eyes and then glancing at Jimin, then at the coffee table, trying to find a place to rest his gaze that doesn't make him feel like an idiot.

"Jimin's been gloating that he finally has somebody to be his other half," Yoongi says. "Since Taehyung and I are both from Daegu."

When Jungkook looks up again, Jimin is beaming, his eyes curved up into crescent moons. He's cute, Jungkook thinks. Makes Jungkook want to tease him. "With me and Jimin hyung together, we're like one and a half Busan boys," he says, and is rewarded by the sight of Yoongi hiding a grin behind one hand as Jimin's eyes go wide.

"Yah, Jeon Jungkook," Jimin says slowly, "did you just make a height joke at me?"

"Wow, look at the time, time to go, nice to meet you sunbaenim," Jungkook says, and is already speedwalking out of Jimin's throwing range by the time he hears Jimin yell,

"I was born in Busan first, you know!"

Jungkook's still grinning by the time he gets home.

Yoongi is at the next meeting Jungkook goes to, and the next, and the one after that. Some things about him, Jungkook learns, are exactly in line with the initial impression Jungkook had: Yoongi is a little intimidating, with a naturally serious expression, and he takes his job as club advisor seriously. Maybe even more seriously than Namjoon does.

The whole club goes to a living room show once. It’s something Yoongi had organized (“Probably a friend of his from work,” Seokjin had said when he’d explained the idea), and something Jungkook didn’t even know was a thing until he’s standing in a stranger’s living room, watching a band jam through their entire latest EP. The music is good, but what Jungkook likes most about it is watching Yoongi watch them, seeing how much more relaxed he is when immersed in the flow of music than he has ever seemed at club meetings or on campus.

Later, Yoongi brings him a drink, one without alcohol, and asks, “What did you think?”

“It was really cool,” Jungkook says. They’re in the kitchen, a little away from the rest of the party still going on, and most of the light is coming from the glow of the moon and streetlights outside. It makes Yoongi look ethereal, which is embarrassing, because Jungkook can’t look away. “I didn’t know… people did stuff like this. I’m glad you invited me.”

He pauses for a second, then amends, “Us, I’m glad you invited us.”

Yoongi laughs softly, then glances out toward the noise of the party. “Me too,” he says.

In terms of music events for the club to attend, Jungkook doesn’t have much to contribute. Yoongi and Namjoon seem hardwired into the underbelly of the city’s music scene, and even Taehyung and Jimin are surprisingly well-connected. Jungkook, though, lacking the same musical ambitions as the rest of them, finds it difficult to come up with anything that could be worth doing.

One of the girls in his astronomy course comes through for him one week in April with the name of an exhibition at the art museum. It’s an exhibition about space, technically, but there’s a part of it dedicated to music made from elements of space exploration, and that’s what Jungkook brings to the table at their next meeting.

“Say what now?” Taehyung asks.

“I’ve just heard it’s cool, that’s all,” Jungkook says. “There’s a part of the exhibit that’s like… musical tracks made from different space things. Like a symphony made out of the notes that happen when you scan the surface of Mars and convert it to sheet music. And another one that’s made entirely from sounds recorded by deep space probes. That kind of stuff. I guess it’s not really our usual gig…”

At the side of the room, Yoongi looks up from his computer and says, “I’ll drive.”

It ends up being Jungkook, Jimin, Namjoon and Yoongi who go, Taehyung having begged off by virtue of needing to finish a project. Namjoon, who apparently has a casual interest in astrophysics, meanders off to see the rest of the exhibit too, which leaves Jimin, Yoongi, and Jungkook standing in a dark room, surrounded by pulsating images of stardust and radiation. The music that pumps from the speakers isn’t exactly music the way Jungkook understands it, more hissing and clicking than actual notes on an instrument, but there’s something eerie and beautiful about it nonetheless.

He closes his eyes, letting himself be immersed in the sound and darkness. When he opens his eyes again, Jimin is gone, and Yoongi is looking at him with an inscrutable expression on his face.

“What?” Jungkook asks, suddenly self-conscious.

“Why did you join the music club?” Yoongi asks.

It’s such an unexpected question that Jungkook doesn’t know how to process it for a second. There’s no way that Yoongi could know that the real reason for Jungkook’s initial sign-up that day was Yoongi and his appearance with coffee in hand. “What do you mean?” Jungkook finally asks.

“I mean, what does music mean to you?” Yoongi says. “I heard that when you signed up, you said you just sing sometimes as a hobby.”

“I do,” Jungkook says.

“Then music is just a hobby?” Yoongi asks. There’s nothing accusatory in his tone, but his expression is still unreadable. “Because I’ll tell you, you looked happier listening to space alien music just now than I’ve ever seen you before, and that doesn’t read to me like ‘music is a hobby.’”

“I,” but the rest of the words won’t come, maybe because Jungkook isn’t sure what the rest of the words even are. He’d thought about studying music, once, but had dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, partly out of fear he wasn’t good enough and partly because he knew his family would have a hard time accepting it. Nobody in his family was much of a musician. “It’s complicated,” Jungkook finally says.

Yoongi seems to accept this, nodding slowly, but he looks at Jungkook for another long moment. “Think about it,” he finally suggests, then puts his hands on Jungkook’s shoulders to push him out of the room. “Let’s go find the others.”

There are a lot of things about Yoongi that Jungkook likes, but in the end, what Jungkook is really taken with is Yoongi’s smile, how it changes his whole face, his eyes curving, grin wide and enthusiastic. It’s not easy to get him to smile, Jungkook learns, but when it’s earned, it’s given wholeheartedly.

It’s just after Jungkook earns that smile, after an uncharacteristically well-timed comment, that Jungkook swallows hard and says, “Yoongi hyung?”

They’re leaving the building, and the others are just far enough ahead to be out of earshot. Yoongi turns to him, eyebrows lifted inquisitively. “What’s up?”

What Jungkook actually wanted to say was something like do you want to go on a date with me sometime? but with the full force of Yoongi’s gaze fixed on him, his sudden burst of courage withers into nothing. He casts desperately for a topic, a question, anything to fill the silence before it stretches on too long to be natural, and decides on, “Can we get dinner sometime this week?”

Which, retrospectively, isn’t much better than do you want to go on a date. Jungkook’s liver drops down to his feet, directly correlating to how high Yoongi’s eyebrows climb on his forehead.

“Dinner,” Yoongi repeats.

Abort, abort, danger, Jungkook Robinson, screams the alarm in Jungkook’s head. “Yeah,” Jungkook says, and then, with a blessed flash of inspiration, he adds, “Namjoon hyung told me you were undecided until your sophomore year too, so I kind of wanted to pick your brain about it?”

It doesn’t sound very convincing to Jungkook, but then again, Jungkook is the one in a minor panic about how to avert the crisis of very nearly having asked Yoongi on a date, so he’s not sure whether he can trust his own ears. The expression on Yoongi’s face is unreadable, but after a second, he shrugs and nods. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “Tuesday? I don’t have work that day.”

“Tuesday’s good,” Jungkook says, even though he actually has a late night English class on Tuesdays. “Thanks, hyung!”

“Anytime,” Yoongi says, then jogs away to catch up with Jimin and Namjoon. Jungkook watches him go and decides, against all his better judgment, that he has to at least try.

“I need to ask you some advice and I need you not to laugh at me,” Jungkook says to Jimin, hugging Jimin’s pillow in a death grip. In theory, he’d come over to ask for Jimin’s help with his homework, but in actuality, Jungkook has come for help with The Yoongi Problem.

“The fact that you said you need me not to laugh at you pretty much guarantees I’m going to want to laugh at you,” Jimin says. He’d been shuffling through his notebooks to find his notes from the math class Jungkook is taking, which Jimin had taken last year, but now he pauses and looks over at Jungkook through narrowed eyes. “Was this a ruse?” he demands.

“Maybe,” Jungkook admits.

Jimin huffs and puts his notebooks back in place, then comes over to flop on the bed with Jungkook. “Okay, then hit me,” he says, the last of the mock annoyance fading out of his expression. “What’s the problem?”

“So let’s say,” Jungkook begins, already cringing at how much like middle school it sounds, “let’s say I like this guy—”

“Wow,” Jimin says, “I would not have thought—okay, sorry, carry on.”

“So let’s say I like this guy,” Jungkook gives Jimin a dirty look, “and he’s definitely at least eight leagues above mine, but I want to ask him on a date or something, just in case. What should I do?”

It’s not exactly the most thorough of explanations, but Jungkook can’t help that. On top of not being sure how best to ask Yoongi on a date, he’s also not sure how Jimin would feel about it, being as Jungkook is a newcomer and Yoongi was Jimin’s friend first. The lack of detail doesn’t seem to bother Jimin, though, as he lifts his eyebrows and hums a sound of consideration.

“Well, does he like guys?” Jimin asks.

“No idea,” Jungkook says.

Uh,” Jimin intones significantly, at which point Jungkook pushes his face into the pillow and says, “I don’t think he’d be grossed out by it or anything, but I couldn’t figure out how to ask if he likes to hold hands with guys without admitting that actually I am mostly curious if he would like to hold hands with one specific guy, that guy being Jeon Jungkook, also known as me.”

Jimin laughs at him, just as Jungkook had expected he would, but the sound is affectionate and not at all mean-spirited. “Don’t panic,” he says, patting Jungkook gently on the back. “I mean, honesty is usually the best policy, right? And you’re not really the type who’s good at big romantic gestures, so… you should probably just tell him. If he’s not interested, he’ll say no, and if he is interested then you took a chance and it worked out. If you feel like that’s a risk you can take then just be upfront.”

It’s pretty good advice, Jungkook can admit. He doesn’t want to take it, but he can admit it’s good. “I just don’t want it to be awkward,” he says.

“Yoongi hyung’s not the type to let it be awkward,” Jimin says.

Jungkook almost breaks his own spine, with how fast he whips his head around to stare disbelievingly at Jimin. “Did you think you were being subtle?” Jimin asks. “You have a really honest face, Jungkook-ah. Every time you look at him it’s like hyung, notice me, I love you~.

“I will pillow smack you all the way to Australia,” Jungkook says, his ears burning red. “Was I seriously that obvious?”

“You know that day we went to the museum?” Jimin says. “I left to go to the bathroom, and when I came back and stuck my head inside you two were talking. I didn’t want to interrupt so I just went out again, but I saw the way you were looking at him.” He pauses, then adds, almost carefully, “and the way he was looking at you, too.”

The words make a spark of hope blaze hot in Jungkook’s belly, then fizzle out just as quickly as it came. “I don’t know,” Jungkook says. “Hyung is confident, isn’t he? If he wanted to date me he probably would have asked by now.”

Jimin makes a thoughtful noise, but it takes him a second to answer. “Yoongi hyung… well. It’s not my business to tell, but I’ll just say he’s not always that much of a go-getter when it comes to romance. I think you should ask him, Jungkookie. The worst he can say is no.”

Jungkook meets Yoongi for dinner on Tuesday, right in the middle of when his English class takes place. They’re off-campus, but only a little bit, because Jungkook doesn’t drive and he doesn’t want to have to ask Yoongi for a ride in case this all goes pear shaped.

It’s nothing fancy, just a college-student-friendly diner, so Jungkook doesn’t complain when Yoongi pays for both of their meals. He finds the seats, and when their food comes out, Jungkook goes to get it, exchanges the buzzer for a tray and then carries it back to their booth. Yoongi asks him about his thoughts on his major, and Jungkook explains that he’s contemplating declaring either as music or as business administration. Yoongi gives his advice. It’s nice, very friendly, very decidedly not a date.

By the end of the meal, Jungkook is sure that he wishes it were.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, playing with the edge of one of his napkins, rolling it into a point and then flattening it out. “I had something else to ask, actually.”

“Sure,” Yoongi says.

“Would you go out with me sometime?”

Jungkook isn’t looking at Yoongi when he says it, but after a moment of silence, he is forced to look up if only to see the expression on Yoongi’s face. “I mean, like, on a date,” Jungkook adds, as if the statement needed clarification. “With me.”

Yoongi has gone very still across the table, but after a moment, he takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Jungkook-ah,” he says.

“You can say no, I won’t be offended,” Jungkook says. He’s talking too much, he knows, but the flow of words is irreversible. “I just, I really like you and I would like to date you, and I figured that it was probably better for me to say that and let you reject me than just not say anything and never know how it could have turned out?”

“You’re rambling,” Yoongi says. He smiles, a little, an expression that reminds Jungkook of Jimin. He wonders if that’s where Jimin picked it up from. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

Jungkook thinks about that.

He thinks about what Jimin had said, the thing that wasn’t his business to tell, the reason why Yoongi isn’t romantically adventurous. He thinks about how cold Yoongi had seemed at first, and how gradually he’d thawed, until the Yoongi he knows how is almost a different person than the Yoongi he’d seen at the club sign-up fair. He also thinks about Yoongi’s inscrutable expression when he’d asked Jungkook what music meant to him, and how Yoongi had seemed so indescribably soft-edged that night at the living room show, and how Jungkook has seen countless other sides of Yoongi (the side that plays with Jimin, the side that coaxes Namjoon through particularly difficult problems in his composition, the side that takes charge of any situation and sees it through to completion) and yet he still wants to see more.

“Not really,” Jungkook says. “But that’s what I like about you. And I don’t think I need to know everything to know that I want to go out with you.”

It almost makes him blush to say it, but he’s forestalled by the way Yoongi leans his cheek against his hand, regarding Jungkook for a long moment. That same unreadable expression from the other night in front of the club building is back, only from this distance Jungkook can read it for what it is: uncertainty, but also hope, and affection that he thinks could be more.

The spark of hope flares up in Jungkook’s belly again, but this time it doesn’t fizzle out. Hesitantly, Jungkook slides his hand across the table to fold his fingers with Yoongi’s. Yoongi has big hands, long fingers—Jungkook files it away amongst all the other details he’s coming to memorize.

“All right,” Yoongi says, finally. “All right, then, Jeon Jungkook, take me on a date.”

He threads his fingers through Jungkook’s and smiles.