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They Don’t Call It 7 Minutes Of Silence

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Your gaze is so intent on Jimin’s hypnotising movements across the other side of the room (it should honestly be illegal to dance like that), that you don’t fully register your best friend, Jaime, pulling on your arm, whining a question at you. 


“Sure, sure,” you mumble distractedly when she repeats herself a second time, your eyes too busy gliding down his slender form (because wow, what a blessing) humming with approval. 


God, you hope he never stops. 


Jaime lets out a squeal of delight, a little too close to your ear, but in this moment you couldn’t care less, not when you were witnessing such unfiltered beauty and grace and fluidity right in front of your- 


“Count me and (Y/N) in!” she screeches a moment later. There’s a dull cheer and that’s when you snap out of your daze.


“Wait, what?” Your eyes are wide as you turn to her, your gut already dropping. “Count us in for what?”


“Nuh uh, my friend, you agreed,” Jaime’s eyes are smug as she shakes a finger in front of your face. She leans in closer and lowers her voice, “It’s not my fault that you can’t keep your eyes off Jimin long enough to actually pay attention to your bestie.”


You level a glare at her pleased face, whispering back harshly, “You know he’s my weakness, damn it. This is exploitation.” 


Telling her about your crush on Jimin, who also happened to be her cousin, was just about the worst decision you’ve ever made in your twenty one years of life thus far. 


Jaime leans back, shrugging, before an even bigger smile suddenly starts forming on her face. Your stomach instantly drops, filling with dread because you’d become familiar with that smile over the years and it has never meant good things for you. Your hands snap forward to cover her mouth but you’re not quick enough. 


“Oi Jimin!” 


His body rolls stop (a freaking travesty) and you try not to whimper as he looks up, eyes snapping questioningly to his cousin – though not before they flicker briefly over you, you can’t help but notice (or at least your heart notices with the way its suddenly galloping in your chest). “Yeah?”


“You joining Spin The Bottle?”


You don’t hear his answer because you’re way too busy staring at your friend in absolute horror. 


Spin the bottle? That’s what you had unknowingly agreed to? 


Your eyes flash with disbelief. You didn’t recognise this monster of betrayal sitting beside you. There was no way this person could be your best friend. No, you’re best friend knew you didn’t do those kind of games or anything with the potential to throw you in the limelight. Not in a room of mostly drunken strangers. That was her thing, not yours. 


She wouldn’t do this to you.


Except she had, and she couldn’t be beaming any more. 


You frown. Perhaps it was time to invest in some new friends. And abort this party. You did have an essay due in two days time and really only came along tonight because Jaime had all but dragged you here, very, very involuntarily. 


Your eyes search for the nearest exit but before you can make a move for it, her hand slams down on your forearm, knowing you all too well.  


“Isn’t that great, (Y/N)? Jimin is playing too.” She may as well be announcing your crush to the entire room with the sheer volume of her voice and the not-so-subtle way she was winking at you. Or trying to at least. You’re not sure if she realises she’s just blinking at you with both eyes but either way, the message is still clear and you were unbelievably close to killing her for it. 


Thankfully, she reduces the amount of decibels leaving her mouth when she leans in closer to add, “Just for a few rounds and then I promise we can leave and you can get back to your beloved essay, ‘kay?”


You just glower at her.


She rolls her eyes, pulling you up off the couch and into the circle of people that’s forming in the middle of the living room, “Chill (Y/N), you might not even get a turn, in fact you probably won’t, look at the amount of people here.”


Okay, so on that account she was right. There was a decent number of people crowded into the room so the chances that the bottle would land on you were… quite small. 


But not impossible, a nagging little voice in the back of your mind can’t help but add, and with your luck… 


“We won’t be friends anymore if it does,” you mutter, crossing your arms. Jaime just bumps your elbow with a grin, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 


“Alright, so y’all know the rules, whoever the bottle points to first will spin to find out who they’ll be spending their 7-minutes-in-heaven with,” a boy you’re pretty sure is called Jin announces in the middle of the room, placing the bottle in the centre of the huddle, before sending it spinning. 


All the blood drains from your face at his words. 


You were going to kill her. You were going to kill her. You just had to make it through a few rounds and then you were going to kill her. 


Sensing your internal freak out, Jaime whispers hurriedly, “If it makes you feel any better I actually didn’t know about the 7-minutes-in-heaven part.”


“So can we leave then?” you ask incredulous. Jaime shakes her head, gaze switching from apologetic to stern way, way too quickly.


“Not a chance. Think about it, if the odds are in your favour, you might finally get that alone time you’ve been wanting with Jimin,” she grins, nudging you with her elbow. 


You don’t bother answering her, too busy seething and trying to keep yourself calm as you watch the bottle turn, watching as its spins begin to wind down. 


Each time it points in your direction, your heart misses a beat. 


It gets slower.


And slower.


Until it’s barely rotating on the wooden floor at all. 


Until it stops and points at someone. 


“Holy crap,” you hear Jaime murmur beside you. 


And holy crap is right because it isn’t just pointing at someone.


No, the wine bottle is pointing…








You freeze in shock, completely mortified, as everyone around you lets out a round of cheers, feeling a few hands pat you on the back, as if this was something to celebrate, something to congratulate. As if you weren’t having the meltdown of your life on the inside right now. They push and nudge you towards the centre of the room. Still in a state of complete terror, you stumble forward in a daze, vaguely hearing Jaime yell over the crowd, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-”


You can feel heat spreading across your cheeks, to your ears and down your neck. 


Of course the bottle would land on you. 


Of course it would. 


It’s hard to swallow with the bitter taste in your mouth. You avoid everyone’s eyes as you bend down, your fingers shaking as they wrap around the middle of the glass bottle. How you wish you could hurl it at the nearest wall. Unfortunately for you, you weren’t that brave or bad ass. Instead, your shoulders droop, resigning to your fate and with a flick of your wrist, you send it spinning once again, taking a careful step back, the crowd erupting in noise once more.  


Time slows as you hold your breath, your eyes fixated on the spinning glass.


The wait seems longer this time, excruciating actually. 


You can hear your heart pounding in your ears as it finally comes to a halt, pointing directly in front of you. With a heavy heart, you gulp as your eyes slowly rise to find Jimin and Tae, mid-conversation, grinning at one another. Your chest thuds laboriously. 


But the bottle isn’t pointing at either of them. 


Your soul shatters a little when you realise that, had the bottle stopped a few centimetres to the right, you would have been having that alone time you ‘had’ always wanted with Jimin. 


But no.


It’s pointing at someone between them, at a boy in an oversized blue, turtleneck jumper, scrunching his nose in a small smile of amusement at whatever Tae just said. 


“Jungkook!” The crowd bellows and the boy in question looks up with surprise, as do Tae and Jimin, glancing around the room with large doe eyes before they land on you, then quickly drop to the bottle at your feet, eyebrows disappearing under his fringe. 


You recognise him, you realise, though admittedly it’s only because you’d seen him hang around with Jimin during soccer practice (which you may or may not watch religiously from the good lookout you’d happened upon when your piano practices had been shifted by the University to one of the small study rooms on the second floor of the music building a few months ago - one that just happened to overlook the oval dedicated to soccer). 


He was a couple of years younger than you (a freshman), but apparently quite the player, considering he’d been starting every game as part of the senior team since he’d joined the squad. He’d never caught your attention per se, though that was hard for anyone to do when Jimin was in your line of sight. 


But letting your eyes briefly rake over him now, you realise he was kinda cute. In his own way. If you were into doe-eyed, curly haired, plump lipped, pretty boys. Which admittedly you kind of were but that was super irrelevant. 


You don’t get much more time to take him in before you’re both being rushed away. You panic, trying to find Jaime in the incoming crowd but you don’t spot her long black locks anywhere. Against your will, you’re quickly herded out into the hallway and into the closest under the staircase, the door slamming shut after you’re unceremoniously shoved in along with Jungkook. 


Someone yells (probably Jin), “Time starts now, don’t keep it PG-rated!” and then you’re left all alone in the pitch black, with a stranger, in a strange, confined closet, in some stranger’s house. 




It’s a tiny space, and even when you push yourself back against the nearest wall, as far away from him as you can, you can still feel him hovering just before you, can feel his warm breaths faintly on your face. You wouldn’t have to reach out your hand very far before you made contact with that massive blue sweater he was drowning in. 


God, it really was dark. You could not make out a single thing. 


After 10 seconds of tense silence that ensued as soon as the door closed, you blurt out “I’ve never done this before” at the same times he says, “Well, this is unexpected.” 


There’s another few long beats of awkward. For a second, you’re glad it’s dark so he can’t see the blush that’s in full force on your cheeks. You hadn’t meant to admit that. Is it possible to hear someone judging you? You’re hoping he’ll just ignore it but of course, you have no such luck. 


“Oh really?”


You don’t really want to answer but avoidance is a little hard in this turn of events.


“Yeah,” you worry your lip between your teeth before you decide you may as well continue, “so I would really appreciate it if we didn’t, you know, do the whole 7 minutes in heaven spiel.”


There’s a soft sigh and you can’t decipher whether thats a supportive or disappointed sound. 


“You’ve never kissed a stranger before then?” Honestly, it sounds more like a statement than a question.


You frown.


“Well that’s presumptuous.” You cross your arms, tone indignant.


“And that’s not a denial.” Briefly you wish there was light so he could see the unimpressed glare you were levelling him with. 


“What do you know, kid?” you retort. 


“I know you were beet red as soon as the bottle landed on you. I know this is probably the last place you want to be right now and I definitely know that I’m not a kid.” You can’t shake the feeling that he was laughing at you. 


You snort, affronted, “You’re a couple of years younger than me and you’re wearing an oversized turtleneck jumper to a party? You’re a kid. And how do you know that I was red when the bottle landed on me, you were busy talking to Jimin?”


“And Tae,” he says quickly, no longer trying to hide the amusement in his voice. 




“I was busy talking to Jimin and Tae,” you feel him shift closer, “yet you only mentioned Jimin. Interesting.”


You freeze.


“Were you, by chance, hoping the bottle would land on Jimin?”


Well, crap.


Having Jaime know about your unfortunate crush was already a miscalculation on your part and now one of Jimin’s seemingly closest friends suspected the existence of that same crush too?




And you’d been having such a good day today too. You’d finally received those pair of shoes you’d ordered online (a treat from yourself to yourself for getting a perfect score on your chemistry practical exam last month) and your favourite band had just released their new album (thank you BTS). You’d figured not even one of Jaime’s awful parties could dampen your mood. 


How wrong you were.


 Had it not been 7 minutes yet? Where was Jaime? You’d forgive her for everything if she came and rescued you from this closest right now. Rules of 7 minutes of heaven be damned. 


“What, no denial, again?” he suddenly continues and you realise, in your alarm, you’d never actually replied, “So you do have a crush on Jiminie, huh?”


You shuffle uncomfortably, cursing yourself to the moon and back. Stay alert, good God. Even if you denied it now, he definitely wouldn’t believe you. 


“I feel it’s better that we don’t talk.” 


There’s a low chuckle in front of you. It’s a nice sound, one that you wouldn’t mind hearing again. You also hate that you think that. 


“So do I, actually. They don’t call it 7 minutes of chit-chat. Generally people-” 


You wondered how it was possible that you knew exactly what kind of a smug, amused smile he was wearing, even though you’d never taken note of it before today. 


“I think it’s better we don’t talk or partake in the uh, actions a “7 minutes of heaven” game usually entails,” you interject quickly. 


Jungkook exhales a short laugh, “For the record though, it’s not called 7 minutes of silence either.”


“Guess we’re the pioneers of a new version then.”


There’s a brief, beautiful, second of nothing. A brief second where your soul lifts for the slightest moment because, was he actually going to be silent? Had you won?


But then, he coos at you. Mockingly. 


“Aww, I know what this is.” You can feel his grin as he pauses.


You remind yourself that its silence that you want to enforce, that you weren’t going to engage, that you weren’t going to give in to his goading. But damn it, you were intrigued. You hate yourself a little more when you succumb, not even five seconds later, voice wary, “What?”


You briefly wonder if there’s a victorious smile on his face. 


“You’re bitter your first kiss won’t be with Jimin.” He could not sound more happy with himself. “I’m right, aren’t I?” Guess you were right about that smile. 


You glower at him, hopefully he could still feel its intensity even in the dark. At this point you really didn’t know why you’d thought he was kinda cute. A more accurate description would involve words like infuriating or a little shit worked too. 


“First- look I’ve been kissed before.” You know you sound defensive but it was kind of (definitely) insulting that some freshman decided you’d never shared a kiss with anyone before. 


He laughs. Actually laughs.


“You’re right. How rude of me to assume your kissing history. So let me rephrase then.” 


“There’s really no need-” 


“You’re bitter you won’t be sharing your first kiss with Jimin tonight.”


This time you can’t hold back your frustrated groan. Oh my God. 


“No, no, no.”


“Right,” Jungkook drags out the word, “so you’re saying you don’t wish Jimin was here instead, crowding you against the wall, pressing sweet, sweet kisses to your lips?”


You splutter, eyes widening to the size of saucers, completely caught off guard but he’s not finished. 


But then again, you probably want to see his face when you kiss, huh? Having a crush and all.” He sounds thoughtful. 


“W-what, n-no.”


There’s a brief pause. 


“Okay, now say it without stuttering and I might actually believe you.”


Your mouth opens and closes a couple of times as you try to process this. Were you really having this conversation with a total stranger? Seriously, who was this guy?


“God, you’re insufferable.”


“Thank you,” he says seriously and it takes everything within you not to scream. Honestly, you don’t think anyone had ever made it under your skin so quickly. 


“Just…. Just-” You could tear your hair out. Heck, you could tear his hair out. 


“Yes?” he probes. Did he have to sound so pleasantly amused?


Shut up.”


“And you’re calling me a kid.”


“Shut your pie hole, then.”


“That… really doesn’t help your case,” he sniggers and you want to reach out and slap the smile off his face.


“Seriously, zip it.”


“No, I just thought of a solid idea. 10/10 would recommend.”


You whine, “Please keep it to yourself.”


He seems completely unfazed by the desperation in your voice. 


“I propose we make a deal.” He must be leaning closer because you can definitely feel more of his breath on your face (and okay, you had to concede: he did have nice minty breath so the increased draft of air was not unpleasant), his sweater slightly brushing against your crossed arms. You hate that your breath catches, goosebumps erupting on your arms where it had briefly made contact.


“Let’s not,” you deadpan. He still seems undeterred, however, continuing right on. 


“I won’t tell Jimin you’d have his babies, if you kiss me.” 


Your mouth drops open. You could not have heard that correctly. 


“Excuse me?”


“And on the lips too,” he adds, “none of that ‘you didn’t specify what kind of kiss’ crap that usually happens in these situations.” 


Usually happens in these situations?  God, your mind is flying like crazy.


“This a normal occurrence for you? Blackmailing people to kiss you?”


He scoffs, “No no, but a guy’s gotta entertain himself somehow, right? This seems like a fun idea. And… you also seem fun?”


Your mouth straightens to a thin line.


 “Blackmail really doesn’t suit you.”


“Why, because I have a pretty face?”


You squint at him, but it doesn’t give you the ability to suddenly see through darkness. 


“Please,” you scoff, “no.” 


“I’ll have you know I have a very pretty face.”


“Sure,” you say and you can almost feel his shock when you don’t immediately shut him down, a smile spreading your own lips, “and it looks particularly exceptional in this lighting. If I was you I’d exclusively keep to the dark for the rest of the near future.”


You were hoping to shut him up but you really should have known better. 


Much to your dismay, he starts cooing again, “Look at you trying to diss me. You’re feeling more comfortable then. Great, means our kiss won’t be so awkward.”


“Our kiss?” You almost choke. Could he stop saying that? “You’re not- you can’t actually be serious about that.”


“Oh, completely. It’s going to happen.”  


It’s very unsettling that he seems so certain about the fact that this was supposedly going to occur. Did he think he already had you figured out? Did he know you better than you knew yourself?


“You mean my kissing you?”




“Impossible,” you shake your head, emphasising the word. 


“Very feasible.”




“Pretty much confirmed to happen.”


“I think the heck not.”


“Look, you’re welcome to test me,” he returns, “But if I was you, I wouldn’t bet against me. After all, it seems to me that you’d rather not have Jiminie find out about your little crush.”


“I don’t have a crush on Jimin.” Of course, it’s only now that the words leave your mouth with ease, without any hesitation. 


“Yeah, that denial’s about 3 minutes too late, sweetheart.”


You bristle, “Don’t call me, sweetheart.”


“Would love to but unfortunately, I may or may not have forgotten your name.”


Your brows rise. “There was a time you knew my name?”


You hear a soft rustling. 


“Okay no,” he sounds sheepish, “but I figured you probably wouldn’t tell me if I asked.”


“So you thought you’d insult me instead and hope for the best, coz hey, maybe I’d just tell you out of spite?” 


He laughs and you imagine he’s scratching the back of his neck. “I realise now that perhaps it wasn’t the most thought-out of plans.”


“Well, at least you arrived there eventually.”


There’s a beat. 


“But now that we’re on said topic, what is your name?”


You snort, “What, so you can tell Jimin my name? No, thanks.”


“I was just planning on pointing you out to him if you didn’t comply, so if we’re being technical, I don’t actually need a name.”


Pointing you out to him. To Jimin. Talk about your worst nightmare. As soon as you got out of this closet you needed to get the heck out of here and avoid Jimin and Jungkook at all costs. Looks like you’d only have your weekly lookout from the music building after today. Otherwise it’d just be you legging it away from Jimin whenever he popped up around Uni. In retrospect, that wasn’t actually all that different to your current day-to-day.


“Well, swell.”


“But I’d like to know all the same.”


You frown, brows furrowing. There’s the soft shuffling of shoes as she shuffles on his feet. 




“Why not, you know? I mean we’re going to kiss. Seems like a good enough reason.”


You roll your eyes, glaring up at the ceiling. 


“We are not going to kiss.”


“Then you do want me to spill the beans to my good friend, Jimin,” he baits, all innocent-like. Like he wasn’t literally blackmailing you into kissing him, a total stranger. 


“I don’t think you’ll tell Jimin.” You try to make yourself sound confident but you’re not quite sure if you’re successful. 


“You convincing yourself or me?” 


Guess not then. 


You huff, “I am being optimistic. Believing in the decency of humanity.”


“What a trooper,” he chuckles. “Love the attitude but its not going to help in this case.”


You breath in deeply through your nose, counting to ten before you continue. 


“Okay, hear me out, let’s say I have a crush on Jimin but-”


“But you do.”


“Hypothetically,” you say sternly.


“Only that it really isn’t hypothetical, is it?”


“Jungkook,” you groan, two stops past exasperated. 


See, look, I’m at a disadvantage here. I can’t sigh your name in exasperation too because I still don’t know it.”


You pinch the bridge of your nose, before you wave your hands at him, accidentally brushing across his chest.


“Gah, fine, it’s (Y/N).”


“Thank you, (Y/N).” He sounds like he’s beaming at you. You grit your teeth. 


“Just pretend you have a secret crush on someone. Try and imagine that for a second.”


“If I’m honest, I kind of have one on you now, after this conversation.”


Oh my God.”


“What? You don’t think we have good banter? A good connection developing between us here right now?”


You huff grudgingly. Connection, pfft. Though as infuriating as this conversation was, the back and forth was sort of fun. But were you going to admit that to him? Hell to the no. 


“You could not be more mistaken.”


He hums and you can sense he doesn’t believe you but he doesn’t call you out on it. 


“Okay, I’ll humour you for a second. I’m imagining my crush on you. Proceed.”


You suppress the urge to roll your eyes again. 


“So now, considering that crush, wouldn’t you be mortified if someone threatened to expose you to them when you weren’t ready? Let alone by someone you just met who just so happens to be super good mates with the person in question? Isn’t blackmail a little uncalled for? A little inhumane?”


“Perhaps, but unlike you, I’d give into the blackmail.”


Well, that’s… yeah, you should have expected that.  


“And what do you mean, you’re not ready? Is anyone ever ready to let their feelings be known?” 


“I will be when enough time has passed,” you mutter, jutting your chin out. 


“I see and how much time has passed by so far, exactly?”


There’s a brief pause from you as you shift uncomfortably, toe taping on the floor, “Just some time.”


It’s been about 3 years. You’d spent Christmas with Jaime’s family that one time when your parents were out of the country, and almost face-planted it into the Christmas Tree when Jimin had waltzed in, all wide smiles and angel-like beauty (you hadn’t been prepared for such unfiltered radiance, okay). You’d been a goner in under a millisecond. Then you’d made the mistake of asking Jaime what his name was, voice still breathy, and she’d been all over you in a heart beat. You still didn’t know why you hadn’t just asked her a little later on, when you’d managed to calm your pounding heart. She might have never suspected. 


There’s another low chuckle.


“So it’s been years then.”


You bristle, another unbidden rush of blood flowing to your cheeks. 


“Look, some people just take longer to be ready,” you mumble.


Jungkook hums, “Sounds to me like someone’s just scared.”


“Well, can you blame me, he’s so damn….” You scramble for the right word. “Jimin.”


“I’m just going to pretend I know what the heck you mean by Jimin,” he tries to imitate you and you’re not sure you’ve ever felt so insulted. You did not sound that whiny. “Why don’t you just go for it then if he’s so Jimin?”


You laugh in disbelief. 


“Yeah, right. I’ll just go up to him and confess. Easy peasy.”


“Uh, yeah, it’s what I normally do,” he sounds stupefied, as if he really doesn’t see the problem. Heck, maybe if you looked like him you might have the confidence to do that too. But alas, you were not so blessed. 


“I’d rather not be rejected or humiliated,” you highlight, hands fiddling with the tassles at the end of your top.


“Who does. But isn’t he worth the risk?” he counters. 


You grunt. He did have a point. But you knew it wouldn’t be enough to spur you into actually doing something about your long-term crush. You were happy (comfortable) pining from afar still. 


“Isn’t this weird for you? Discussing a crush I have on a friend of yours?”


There’s a soft breath from Jungkook. 


“You might find it hard to believe but this isn’t my first rodeo when it comes to meeting girls that have a crush on Jimin.”


You supposed that was true. Jimin was quite a catch and it would be unrealistic to think you were the only one out there pining away for the talented young dancer. You smirk at Jungkook, even if he can’t see. 


“That mean you blackmail them all to kiss you? This part of your routine.” You gasp dramatically, “Was this all a set up?”


“Oh, ha ha. Like I said before I don’t have to blackmail girls to get them to kiss me. They come willingly.”


“That so?”


He hums. 


“Then why can’t you just let me off the hook and be a decent human being? Since you have so many willing girls.”


“I could,” he begin, pausing as if to consider, “but this is way more amusing.”


You sigh loudly and Jungkook laughs lightly at your frustration. You gently lean your head back against the wall. 








It’s right at that moment that the door is flung open, light crashing into the dark space, startling the heck out of the both of you. It’s a rude awakening and your heart thuds uncomfortably in your chest. You blink a few times, focusing in on a dozen faces peering in from the open doorway. 


There’s a disappointed boo from someone, “Aww their lips aren’t even swollen.”


“What did ya’ll do in there? Its not 7 minutes of stand-around-in-silence.”


Your eyes flicker back to Jungkook who’s looking down at you, utterly too pleased with himself (just like you’d suspected all along). 


He arches a brow and you don’t miss the challenge in the movement, sweeping back his fringe with a finger. 


What are you going to do?


And honestly, what were you going to do?


You study the glint in his eye and find you really didn’t want to test him. You can see the determination there and much to your dismay, you suspect he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on his threat and would likely tell Jimin as soon as he rejoined the party if you let him leave with no kiss. 


You take a brief moment to drink him in, really have a proper look at the guy you’d been forced to spend 7 minutes with. You gaze over his doe eyes, the slender nose leading to soft-looking lips, currently fashioned in a content smirk. You notice the soft waves of hair that curl over his forehead, framing his face. Now that you now they’re there, you can make out the outline of his broad shoulders a lot easier through the blue sweater. You come to a single conclusion: up close, he really was very pretty. Different to Jimin, but pretty in his own right. 


He moves towards the door, eyes sparkling. 


Your move sweetheart. You really going to risk letting me leave to go tell Jimin?


Yeah, you can’t let that happen. Your skin literally crawls at the thought of Jungkook waltzing over to find Jimin and pointing you out from the crowd. Yeah, that’s the girl who’s been pining after you for a few years. You shudder at the thought. You didn’t want to see the look on Jimin’s face. 


Not ever. 


You knew what needed to be done.


Before you can change your mind, your hand snaps out to grab his wrist before he can take another step, pulling him back to you with a bit more force than you’d intended. There’s a chorus of gasps from outside the closet but you ignore them. 


He stumbles, falling against you, knocking you flush against the wooden wall behind you, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your heart speeds up and before you can second-guess yourself (because you figure nothing could be worse than Jimin finding out you liked him, even kissing a stranger), your hand snakes up his body to rest at the back of his neck. You watch as surprise widens his eyes and you hesitate for a moment at the sight. Was he bluffing that whole time? Or did he really not think you would do this to avoid him spilling the beans? 


He looks like he’s about to say something and so, before he can, you gently but quickly pull his face down, silencing his mouth with yours. 


The plan was to give him a quick peck (he didn’t specify what kind of a kiss after all) but as soon as your lips connect, you mind stutters to a stop and you forget the applause that erupts in the background, where you are or why you were even doing this in the first place. 




Even Jimin. 


It’s the boy in front of you that becomes the centre of your attention. 


Your eyes close without your permission and you’re marvelling at how soft his lips are (how plump, how smooth), how nice they feel against your own, how your body shivers when he starts moving them once he’s recovered from his surprise (you can’t help but feel a little satisfied that you’d managed to startle him), sliding with skill against your own. 


God, his lips are nothing short of delectable you’re quickly learning, each brush sending electric currents throughout your entire body. And his taste… 


It’s as easy as breathing. God, maybe he was right. Maybe there was something here. 


Whatever it was, it was addictive. He was addictive. 


Jungkook breathes heavily against your mouth, his hands coming up to clutch at your waist, pressing even closer to you before they rake down your sides, then up to cup your face, leaving trails of fire in their wake. In response, your other hand reaches up to wrap around his neck, pulling him harder against you too. You swallow a groan when his tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and when his teeth scrape lightly along its surface. Your fingers flex, brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck, running along his shoulders, digging into his biceps, arching your body into his. 


It was quickly coming to your attention that he was nothing but solid muscle underneath the sweater he was swimming in (a happier surprise you never knew). When you trail your hands down his stomach, discovering the outline of what seemed to be a set of very defined abs, your knees go a little weak and he can’t muffle a low rumble at the back his throat. It’s a sound that has your blood pumping even faster and you exhale even harsher against his mouth, your movements becoming more desperate, frenzied. He must feel the same because he moves impossibly closer, his body pressed so closely against yours, dwarfing yours, sends happy tingles up your spine. 


You want to jump up and wrap your legs around his waist, feel his strong arms lock tightly around your waist. Feel his kiss everywhere. You want to do a lot of things.


When his mouth starts kissing across your jaw, down your neck, an open mouthed heat against your skin, you throw your head back against the wall, biting your lip to muffle a moan. You can feel him smile against your skin.


He’s gently biting down and you can’t help but think that this was one hell of a kiss, even if it wasn’t from Jimin. 


Everything instantly stops. 




The name snaps you out of your heady daze and you instantly jerk away, Jungkook’s lips chasing yours for a moment, the action making your heart stutter, and you almost let him find them. You’re both breathing heavily and he’s looking at you with a heavy lidded gaze, even if his expression is inscrutable. 


You hope you don’t look as stunned as you feel. 


“T-there, now k-keep your mouth shut,” you whisper, hating how rattled your voice sounds. 


He stares at you intently, watching you carefully before his eyes fall back down to your lips for the briefest moment, chest shuddering, but he doesn’t resist when you shove him away, harder now, stumbling a bit as he takes a deep breath and rakes a hand through his hair. You swear you can hear him mutter something that sounds a lot like holy shit under his breath but you ignore it. Your heart is still a raging mess, pounding uncomfortably loudly in your ears. 


It’s then that you remember the two of you are not the only two people in the current space. You’d literally just kissed Jungkook in front of who knows how many people. The blush in your cheeks heats up at the unwelcome reminder.


Be cool, you scream at yourself. Just be cool until you’re far far away from the people. You can freak out after.  


You tug down your top, brushing off imaginary fluff before you straighten your back and step back into the hallway, forcing a blank expression onto your face. You’re met with a mixture of shocked, amused and excited faces. 


And then there’s Jaime, a combination of all three. 


“(Y/N), you absolute badass!” she screeches, running up to tackle you in a hug. She’s jumping in her excitement and you wish you could share her enthusiasm, but you were still trying to shake off the daze Jungkook’s lips had elicited. 


Jungkook’s lips. 


You gulp. No, stop thinking about them. 


But you can’t. Like a brand on your thoughts, his taste, his mouth, his sounds, his body, everything, they’re not leaving your mind. Its unsettling how unnerved you are. Even more so by the fact the only thing that you want to do right now is grab Jungkook and drag him back inside the closet, slam the door shut and have another 7 minutes of heaven with him. For real this time. 


You latch on tightly to Jaime’s arm so that you do not do that. Because that would be bad. You had a crush on Jimin. Not Jungkook. 


It was just a kiss, you tell yourself. That’s all. You had no choice. It was a kiss that ensured your secret was safe. Though how safe it was with a guy that blackmailed a kiss out of you, you weren’t entirely sure. In hindsight, however, you actually didn’t mind the blackm- nope. You weren’t going there. 


Jaime lets out another cheer as she begins tugging you towards the kitchen, no doubt to have celebratory drinks. 


Before you round the corner, you let yourself be weak, giving in to your desire for just a moment and you turn to look back at him.


You find his eyes easily, mostly because he’s already looking at you, having been following your hasty retreat. He’s being jolted around by the remaining crowd but his eyes remain fixed on you, seemingly oblivious to the congratulations he’s getting from the bunch of guys surrounding him. You ignore the rush of fire that sweeps your body when you notice their suggestive smiles, but its a different type of fire that burns when you notice his flushed cheeks, the purposeful way he’s looking at you.


Then, ever the tormentor, he bites his plump bottom lip and you can’t help but follow the movement. You gulp. Something he doesn’t miss, of course. His smile is cheeky, mischievous. 


Was it possible to have a crush on someone’s lips?


Eventually, his face thaws though, diminishing in its tamed ferocity and a softer smile graces his lips (one you poor heart likes just as much as all the others). He tips an imaginary hat at you. 


Well played, sweetheart.


You snort and bob in a small curtsy, an action that makes him smile even wider, his eyes crinkling. 


You see a flash of silver in the corner of your eye and find Jimin making his way through the crowd to Jungkook. Your heart stutters at the sight, a twang of guilt rippling through your body, surprising you. Jungkook follows your gaze, before looking back at you, sealing his mouth shut with his fingers before throwing an imaginary key away when he gets your attention. Like a total doofus. Yet the action is still somehow endearing. 


Your secret is safe with me, his eyes seem to say. 


Then you’re tugged away from view. 


And when you’re lying in bed, in a similar black to that closet, for the first time in years its not Jimin’s face that appears in your mind. 


Instead it morphs into a different one and it’s the memory of doe eyes and soft, plump lips that haunts your dreams. 


Someone else’s name that falls from your lips, a whispered confession in the dark.