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When the Signal Breaks

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Jungkook finds that he doesn’t really like university parties all that much. Significantly louder and more pretentious than the limited college parties he’s been to, Jungkook isn’t entirely sure of how he’s supposed to act. He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to mingle, what the fuck modern-day mingling entails, or if he should just go back to his dorm.

Jungkook looks like a baby, feels like a baby, amongst all the older students and their friends. Taehyung swears he looks older than his age, but he can’t help anything about how he feels.

That being said, he’s probably the coolest freshman to exist.

His in had been Taehyung.

Taehyung, his saviour, who had promised Jungkook that he wouldn’t become a loser in university. Taehyung would personally ensure that he wouldn’t be slipping through the cracks he’d already become accustomed to, throughout his life.

Jungkook was okay with a little bit of crack slipping. Honestly. He didn’t want to be at this overly cramped party, sweating bullets down the back of his shirt because who throws house parties with no AC in August.

The party was on the lawn of the frat house too. So like, yeah, fresh air but still. Jungkook’s point remains.


Jungkook stills in shock as two hands grip drunkenly his shoulders and shake lightly. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut and he gets brief visions of being thrown into the frat house pool and drowning. Morbid.

Though, the hands on his shoulders are warm and familiar, and Jungkook realizes quite quickly that it’s just Taehyung, who’d managed to find him away from the throngs of people. There wasn’t much of a crowd outside and Jungkook really didn’t want to be around too many of those he didn’t know. At least, not without Taehyung.

“I want you to meet my boyfriend,” Taehyung practically sings into his ear.

By the looks of it, Taehyung was hammered. His drink sloshes ominously in his incredibly conspicuous red cup, some of it spills onto the tip of his shoe. He practically stumbles into Jungkook’s side.

“The boyfriend that I doubt is even real?” Jungkook mutters good-naturedly, scrunching his nose as Taehyung reaches out to flick it.

Taehyung had texted Jungkook only a few weeks into his first year at university, telling him that he was positively in love with this older guy named Namjoon. Namjoon who was hilarious and quirky but so, so smart and god Jungkookie we have the best conversations ever-,

Needless to say, Jungkook was heavily skeptical about who this dude was. A dude who barely even visited Taehyung during the summer because they didn’t live very close, which made Jungkook even more wary.

“He’s real,” Taehyung sighs, exasperated but almost dreamily. “He’s so real.”

“Ew, I get it.” Jungkook comments, clapping Taehyung on the shoulder before drinking the rest of the meager contents in his own cup. He grimaces for only a moment, before shaking his head out. “Let’s go meet him.”

Taehyung beams up at him happily, before spilling most of his drink into Jungkook’s now cup. “You need to drink more. Don’t meet him with a stick up your ass.”

“I d-do not-,”

Taehyung isn’t listening. He’s already fisting a hand into the front of Jungkook’s nearly damp t-shirt and tugging him back towards the house. Jungkook gulps, finding himself to be somewhat nervous. What if Taehyung’s boyfriend finds him stupid? Or lame? Or-, or like a baby, like the rest of the people at this party probably think?

Jungkook doesn’t realize when Taehyung stops tugging on him and firmly plants him in the middle of the packed living room, right in front of one of the couches. His gaze flickers across the three pairs of legs on the couch. One of those pairs must belong to Namjoon.

“Jungkookie, head up,” Taehyung pokes him lightly at the back of the neck while laughing, despite the fact that nothing was funny. Jungkook thinks he hears someone on the couch laugh along.

He does lift his head, trying to be seem as normal as possible and not let this situation turn overly embarrassing. He looks over at Taehyung to see his eyes glued to his boyfriend, he looks so in love.

It’s a little weird.

“Jungkookie-, drum roll please ladies and gentlemen…This is Namjoon!” He announces proudly, gesturing to the guy sitting in the middle of the couch. The one on his left is in deep conversation with a girl on the other couch, and the one of the right has a shocking silver hair and is staring at his phone.

Admittedly, Jungkook’s eyes almost pop out of his head. Because Namjoon, well, Namjoon is insanely good looking. Even when sitting down, Jungkook can tell that he’s tall. Tall and lean with a soft face and attractive features. Fuck, he looks intelligent. And his fashion sense is so good-,

“Hi,” Namjoon’s voice is warm, albeit a bit quiet and awkward when he greets him. “I’m Tae’s boyfriend, Namjoon.”

“I uh-, hi.” Jungkook says, stopping himself from saying I know, because that probably would’ve been rude.

“You see?” Taehyung joins him, vehemently shaking a finger in Namjoon’s direction. He garners the attention of the two other couch-sitters with his antics. Jungkook wants to grab him and tell him to cut it out, but he can’t. Taehyung is too drunk. “I told you he was real.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow in amusement at the comment but says nothing. Jungkook flushes down to his chest in embarrassment.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Namjoon tells him, having to shout over the music. “Tae talks a lot about you.”

As Jungkook’s about to start rambling off a stupid, garbled reply (probably), the guy to Namjoon’s left gets off the couch. He tugs the girl he’d been talking to up with him, and they move closer to the music to dance.

I want to dance.” Taehyung states, eyes shimmering and almost petulantly as he watches them go. He turns back to his boyfriend and practically pulls at his sleeve. “Joon, dance with me?”

Jungkook is glad he wasn’t the one who got asked.

“I’m going to embarrass myself, though.” Namjoon sighs, knowing that this was a battle he’d already lost. He stands up with little help from Taehyung tugging on him, who’s already giggling with excitement.

“Thank you thank you I love you.” He gushes as Namjoon placates him with a few head pats, ushering him away from the couch.

“Hang tight, Kook!” Taehyung shouts back at him, just as Namjoon waves goodbye.

Jungkook flounders for a moment. Left alone in the middle of the room, he isn’t too sure what he’s supposed to do. Taehyung is the one who needs to take him back to his dorm, because it’s a little ways away and Jungkook is still getting lost on campus. So, he can’t just leave. He isn’t too sure how much help Taehyung would be, anyways.

Jungkook flops onto one end of the couch and sighs.

He pulls out his phone, trying to be as seemingly busy as possible. Admittedly, he does get distracted when he sees Taehyung begin to dance with Namjoon, who just kind of…stands there. Jungkook doesn’t blame him. With the weird split Taehyung is trying to accomplish, it’s probably best if Namjoon makes sure he doesn’t fall over and smack his head.

“They’re embarrassing, huh?”

Jungkook hears, but doesn’t look up from his phone, not thinking the comment was directed towards him. There were lots of people watching that probably thought Taehyung and Namjoon were embarrassing.

“Your friend.” Jungkook hears again, a little closer to him this time, and he lifts his head. Looking over, Jungkook sees that the guy that had been sitting on the other side of the couch, respectively on his phone, had slid to the middle spot.

Without his head bent towards his lap, Jungkook is a little bit (a lot) taken aback.

The guy’s like…pretty. Really pretty. With cute eyes and a button nose and a small tongue that darts to wet his bottom lip. Jungkook finds his outfit and his silver hair to be intimidating, mature and well-thought out, but his face is entirely adorable.

Jungkook, for the first time in a very long time, get his words stuck behind his throat. With the force of the occurrence, it almost panics him. He tries to speak but only a rush of wind comes out. Jungkook looks away from the guy, back to Taehyung and manages to force out a small and stuttered yeah.

“A man of few words, huh?” He’s being asked next and Jungkook winces because it’s not like his fault. Well, yeah it’s his fault but not his fault.

Jungkook leaps forward into the conversation, instead. Which doesn’t go very far. He keeps his eyes set straight ahead. “No.”

And the guy laughs. “I see,” When Jungkook is brave enough to look at him, he has a playful glint in his eye as he sips his drink. “not too talkative with strangers at parties, then?”

“No.” It seems to be the safest word Jungkook can muster right now. Feeling a little bit too bad about having slipped up this poorly when he was in public, in university. It didn’t make any sense. Jungkook knew he’d be spending the next two days over-analysis everything that had happened that night, wondering what could’ve set him off so nervously.

“I’m Yoongi, by the way. I’m Namjoon’s friend.” His voice is deep and seems quiet even against the loud music around them. Jungkook is more than a little enraptured and more than a lot nervous.

“J-,” Don’t fucking do this now. “Jeon Jungkook.” He rushes out, nodding to himself at the end in a personal moment of pride.

Yoongi laughs again with a big big big smile and Jungkook immediately knows he isn’t being made fun of. For once. It’s a weird feeling.

Yoongi extends his hand, in a very dramatic handshake. Jungkook accepts shyly, barely moving his arm at all.

“Nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook.”


“T-tae I can’t,” Jungkook insists, legs thrown over the back of the tiny dorm room couch. He’d resorted to playing video games upside down now, attempting to heighten his senses of balance, perception and direction. Some New Level shit.

Taehyung’s face comes into view, upside down, but the tiny scowl is still evident. Jungkook sighs, eyes still trained on the screen. “I can’t d-do it.”

Taehyung clicks his tongue in disapproval, getting in that oddly coddling zone Jungkook seems to bring upon him. He’d always been this way. Making sure no one or nothing every bothered Jungkook. “You need to not get yourself worked up over this, Kook. It’s a school project.”

Jungkook groans, righting himself when Taehyung wants to sit on the couch as well. The room they share together is cramped. Jungkook would’ve been assigned with another freshman, but Taehyung pleaded the registrar to let him switch because as he put it: my friend has like, needs. Don’t make him room with a stranger!

Jungkook would’ve been fine but he likes having Taehyung with him. He hasn’t had all that much luck making friends of his own. Only a few in his program but even then they’re more like acquaintances than anything else. Jungkook just has a hard time talking to people.


“Aw, baby,” Taehyung pokes a finger between Jungkook’s eyebrows, getting his attention again. “You look so upset. But it’s not worth it, okay? It’s not worth freaking out over.”

Jungkook sighs, shaking his head and dropping it onto Taehyung’s shoulder. No one gets it. “It’s n-not that easy. I can’t do it.”

“First of all,” Taehyung starts, using is matter of fact voice. Jungkook winces because it almost sounds like Taehyung is frustrated with him. Jungkook wouldn’t want that. “Yes you fucking can. Second of all, yes you fucking will. Because even if you told your teacher why you don’t think you can, she’ll think it’s an even greater idea that you do. Am I right?”

Jungkook grumbles. Taehyung is annoyingly always right.

Jungkook’s speech pathology professor wouldn’t let him skip a project about speech development, given his impairment. She’d have a fucking field day if she knew.

Taehyung sighs softly when Jungkook doesn’t seem to feel any better. Why would he? His hand comes up to pet through Jungkook’s hair a few times. “Jungkookie, you’ve improved so much over the years. And even if you hadn’t, your stutter doesn’t make you incapable of doing things.”

“It does!” Jungkook insists, facing reddening at the mention of it.

Taehyung’s right, he has made insane amounts of progress from when he was a child. Now, he almost never stutters, unless he’s particularly flustered or emotional. It seems to him, that it’s about the best that it’ll get it. He’d been way too old to see a speech therapist by the time his parents had decided that maybe there was something wrong with their son. He had to do this all on his own.

And now, Jungkook actually finds himself really, incredibly stressed. He’d put off this project for the last week, when most people had immediately gotten straight to work. The assignment wasn’t necessarily difficult, but it was demanding. If Jungkook was cutting his own time short by dicking around, then he’d be shooting himself in the foot, by waiting any longer. His professor most definitely wouldn’t care.

He’s just so angry, and frustrated that this should be an easy project and for him it’s just-, it’s just not.

“I can’t-,” Jungkook starts, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I can’t j-just, interview a st-, a st-, fuck.”

“It doesn’t have to be a stranger!” Taehyung supplies naturally for him, trying to be optimistic. He shifts so he’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, giving Jungkook his full attention. “Interview me for your speech pathology class. You’ll be comfortable around me.”

Jungkook had thought about it before, to be honest. He’d thought about just faking it and scripting an interview with Taehyung but it probably wouldn’t have flown over his professor’s head. Jungkook probably would’ve failed.

“No offense,” Jungkook starts, patting Taehyung on the knee. “But I don’t think you can really hold an interview about music in relation t-to developments in speech.”

“You’re completely right.” Taehyung states. “I cannot. You were a little harsh, but I’ll give it to you. So, why don’t you just change the topic?”

“All the others are already taken.” Jungkook wants to positively cry.

They’re silent for a few moments, as Jungkook ponders if maybe now’s the time he should just drop out of university and never speak to anyone ever again.

“Holy shit, I can’t do it.” Taehyung breaks the silence. Jungkook reaches over and smacks him on the arm. “Hey-,but I totally know who can.”

Jungkook, pausing from where he was going to smack him again, lifts his head from Taehyung’s shoulder and gives him the most skeptical look he can muster. Taehyung seems to have been struck with an epiphany. Or a stroke. Jungkook can’t be too sure. “You…do?”

Taehyung hops up from the couch, bounding over to his bed and grabbing his phone. He immediately starts texting rapidly.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, feeling a tickle of nervousness against his ribs. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. Or his nerves up. Anything, really.

“Texting Joon.” Taehyung replies, fingers still flying rapidly against his screen. Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Namjoon is in education, no?”

“He is, indeed.” Taehyung nods, pausing for a minute as he receives a text, before he’s typing again. “But Yoongi is in music. Or something like that.”

“Who?” Jungkook’s eyes bug out of his head. At this point, he’s convinced himself that Taehyung is messing with him. Or that his head is messing with him and inventing people, to make up for the shockingly low amount of real people Jungkook knows.

“Yoongi,” Taehyung says again, with absolutely no change in his voice.

Jungkook scoffs. “You can’t j-just, say the same name twice and expect me to suddenly know who that is.”

“Namjoon’s friend,” Taehyung is barely paying him any attention. His tongue pokes out between his lips as he continues texting. “You met him at the party back in August.”

Jungkook scowls, brows furrowing as he tries to remember. There weren’t that many memorable things that happened that night, at least, not for him. This shouldn’t be difficult. “I don’t remember meeting anyone.”

“Yeah yeah,” Taehyung waves him off mindlessly, still typing with his free thumb. “You guys sat on the couch together and watched me dance. Maybe we all don’t want to remember it happened but it did.”

And it does then, hits him.

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook all but gasps, shooting up from the couch. His palms feel suddenly, very sweaty. “That guy? The-, with the silver hair?”

“It’s not silver anymore.” Taehyung comments, practically skipping back over to the couch. “But yes, him.”

Jungkook feels himself get nervous. Like, really nervous. He’d thought about that dude for at least a solid week after their quick, initial meeting. Jungkook even looked out for him in the halls, fully ready to hightail it the other way, only to not embarrass himself further. Min Yoongi was intimidating to him. He was the most interesting person he’d seen at university, to date.

“T-tae,” Jungkook shakes his head, the dread filling him back up to the brim. “he’s like…so scary.”

“Yoongi? Is scary?” Taehyung asks. He laughs at his own comment and Jungkook’s disbelief. “Clearly you really don’t know him, then.”

“Yes. I don’t know him.” Jungkook agrees. He steps closer to the Taehyung, starting to get mildly annoyed that he just keeps texting. “I can’t j-just ask him to help me when he doesn’t even know me.”

“Too bad,” Taehyung shrugs, shoving his phone under Jungkook’s nose. Without going cross-eyed, he tries to look at both Taehyung and the screen. “Yoongi already says he’ll do it.”

 “He,” Jungkook gapes for a moment, blinking at Taehyung and then staring down at the phone. “He what?

The screen shows the texts between Taehyung and Yoongi. Jungkook briefly skims over the whole section of Taehyung how did you get my number please stop spamming me and Namjoon gave me ur number and said to spam u until u answer lolol.

He also sees the part when Taehyung asks Yoongi if he remembers Jungkook and if he’d be willing to help him out for his “itsy bitsy” project that’s totally not worth 30% of his final grade.

Yoongi says yes. To Jungkook’s surprise, Taehyung was serious.

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathes, locking Taehyung’s phone and handing it back to him. He flops onto the couch heavily, gaze staring into his lap. “Do I… Now I need to t-talk to him!”

Taehyung laughs good-naturedly, seating himself on the back of the couch and patting Jungkook on the head. “He’ll probably text you first.”

A rock drops in his stomach. “He’ll what?”

As though Taehyung’s words are clockwork magic, Jungkook’s text tone blares from the coffee table. Jungkook stares at it like it’s a bringer of bad luck. A porteur de malchance.

He makes no move to pick up his phone, still staring at it and the obnoxiously bright Naruto phone case.

“Aren’t you going to answer?” Taehyung asks, not curious enough to grab Jungkook’s phone to see for himself. He’s just trying to egg him on, Jungkook knows.

Jungkook shakes his head. “I think I’m never touching my phone again.”

They’re quiet, Taehyung rhythmically kicking the back of the couch. Jungkook jolts when another text comes in, permeating the silence.

“You’re so dramatic.” Taehyung mutters, now leaning over until he’s halfway off the couch, snatching the phone and dropping it into Jungkook’s lap. “You’re welcome.”


Unknown Number: Hey, Tae gave me your number

Unknown Number: It’s yoongi. hopefully I can help you with your project


“What do I say?” Jungkook hisses quietly, as if someone’s listening in on them.

“Um,” Taehyung pauses. “Answer him and say thank you, when do you want to meet up?”

Never.” Jungkook groans, letting his head hang in dismay. “He’s going to think I’m so weird.”

“Yeah, he will.” Taehyung pokes his tongue out at Jungkook’s admonished expression. Jungkook continues to glare at him as he moves around the dorm, grabbing his backpack and slipping his shoes on. “I’ll take your surprise as a thank you for all of my help. Wanna watch Inuyasha later?”

Jungkook grumbles out a small yes, before flopping down onto his bed. He hears Taehyung close the door but doesn’t say bye.

He decides to text Yoongi.

You: hi

You: thank you so much for helping

You: when do you want to meet? 

Jungkook doesn’t want to meet. At least, he doesn’t stutter through text.

He doesn’t have to wait very long for a text back.

Unknown Number: I’m free tomorrow?

Unknown Number: if you’re free, that is


Jungkook feels the stress ball itself tightly in his throat. Why can’t things just be normal? Why couldn’t he have asked someone himself and not gotten Taehyung, of all people, to help him? Why did he need help?

He sucks it up.

You: I’m free

You: where do u wanna meet?



Jungkook meets Yoongi a little ways off-campus, at a student-run, vegan, co-op café.

It was Yoongi who had suggested the place.

To it’s defense, it was quite cute, despite the incredulously long list of adjectives attached to it. Jungkook could see himself maybe coming here to do schoolwork, if he was one of those organized students that didn’t do all their work half-passed out on their bed. Also, if at least every second menu item didn’t scare the shit out of him. (He doesn’t ever want to try meat-free haggis. Or any haggis.)

Jungkook sits down at one of the back tables, arriving early on purpose. He was kind of a mess that morning, not really having time to put himself together since his alarm never went off, and he didn’t want Yoongi to see him come through the door that way. He adjusts the beanie he’d shoved onto his head and reaches into his bag to place his laptop on the table. The faster that he can get this over with, the better. He doesn’t want to bother Yoongi for longer than he needs to, and he doesn’t want to be meeting either.

He’s already opened up his project document and started typing in answers to preliminary questions, when Yoongi walks in. Jungkook doesn’t hear the bell chime.


He hears that though, head shooting up so quickly that his beanie loosens from it’s place. It almost slides off the back but Jungkook flails a hand around to catch it, pulling it back down securely, and effectively hiding his reddened ears.

Yoongi looks softer, in autumn.

His hair is the remnants of the silver it was in august, dark roots visibly peering out from underneath. He looks warm and small in the knee-length coat he’s wearing, the collar flared out near his face. His cheeks look soft and little bit pink from the bite of early November.

Yoongi was hot in August, Jungkook remembers quite clearly. But he’s really fucking cute here.

“H,” Jungkook coughs, tries to play off his nerves as a cold. “Hey,” He says this time, forcing himself to make solid eye-contact. He’s no bitch.

Yoongi is smiling kindly, eyes sparkling a little. Probably because of Jungkook’s hat antic but like, whatever. “Do you want some water for your cough?”

Jungkook would kind of like water regardless. Not necessarily because of his fake cough. But he’s in this café that says CO-OP on the front and he doesn’t know what that means. So maybe it’s just better to die of thirst. Maybe.


“I don’t know what a co-op is.” Jungkook blurts out the words so quickly that he needs to clamp his hand over his mouth after.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

To his disbelief, Yoongi…finds it funny? He laughs brightly at Jungkook’s comment, tries to speak, but only ends up dissolving into more laughter. “Let me get you water.” He finishes by wheezing out, dropping his back into the seat across from Jungkook and going to the counter.

Jungkook is a veritable idiot. He amazes even himself.

When Yoongi sits back down, Jungkook accepts the water that’s being slid over to him with a soft ‘thank you’ and takes a long sip. He’s aware that he’s drawing this out longer than it needs to go, but Jungkook has completely rammed down the warning sides of awkwardness. He might as well just keep going.

“So,” he finally says, lips wet, as he sets the near-empty glass down. Yoongi definitely notices. “The project.”

“Yes,” Yoongi nods, leaning his elbows on the table. He looks a lot more comfortable than Jungkook does. “The project. Tae didn’t really tell me much, or like, anything really.”

Jungkook shrugs, turning his laptop to face Yoongi, so he can read the assignment description. “It’s for my speech pathology class.” He’s sure that that barely means a thing to him.

“Cool,” Yoongi mutters, albeit distractedly as his eyes skim over the lines of instructions. Jungkook worries when he sees a small frown crease his expression, before smoothing out a little bit later. Eventually, he looks back up, turning the laptop so that they can both see the screen. His features are warm and positive, with a gentle smile. “It doesn’t seem too bad at all.”

Jungkook is so fucking relieved. It’s unbelievable. “Yeah, it’s just- like, a lot of work. And it’s not really fair to you if you don’t want to-,”

“At lot of my work this year is final projects, I kinda make my own schedule.” Yoongi interjects, as waves off Jungkook’s concerns. “Besides, I think it’s interesting.” Yoongi has a surprisingly determined look on his face. Jungkook finds it suits him very well.

“I mean, I don’t know all that much about vocal training because I’m more into composition but like,” Yoongi scratches at the back of his head for a second, collecting his thought. “I’m sure you can look more into rhythms and sound waves and stuff, instead of breath control.”

“Yeah, I was kinda thinking that too.” Jungkook beams, feeling his heart do the stuttering for once at how knowledgeable Yoongi seemed to be. And how nice he was too. Perhaps Taehyung had actually been spot-on, asking Yoongi for help.

Jungkook continues brainstorming out-loud. “Maybe we could just like-, I mean I have a shit ton of research to do on my part but I could like, interview you for some music knowledge stuff and maybe look a bit at the types of music that’d be best for working with speech impediments-,”

“Music knowledge stuff.” Yoongi echoes back to him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It sounds like you’ll do really good on the project.”

Jungkook huffs indignantly at his intelligence being put into question. Maybe Yoongi was kidding but honestly Jungkook puts his own intelligence into question every day so it’s valid. “Do you mock me, sir?”

“I hadn’t realized we were in the 17th century.”

“What can I say?” Jungkook leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Chivalry isn’t dead.”

Yoongi laughs and Jungkook laughs and it makes him want to laugh even more. Laugh and not stop laughing. Though, Jungkook can feel their meeting dwindling to a halt, and it’s not-, it’s not like they’re friends. Jungkook can’t just keep Yoongi for longer than they need to talk about his help in the project. Something about that makes Jungkook a little bit disappointed.

“Hey uh,” Jungkook starts, hand instinctively going to pick at the side of his neck in a nervous tick. “Can I get your like- student info for the project sheet? To make sure you actually go here and stuff.” Jungkook finishes lamely.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Do you doubt me, sir?”

“Reusing my jokes,” Jungkook mutters, though Yoongi spots the smile. “Good one. What’s your last na-,”


Jungkook blinks. Yoongi stares right back at him impassively.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook starts, hands stilling over the keys of his laptop. “What?”

“McLovin” Yoongi states again and it’s like Jungkook’s heart kicks.

Just McLovin?” He ventures. “No first name? Maybe like your Fake ID?”

Yoongi winks and Jungkook knows he hit the nail on the head. “I see you know your references.”

Jungkook lets out a small, happy huff. “Tae would never watch Superbad with me.”

Yoongi shrugs, Jungkook notices that he’s chewing on the skin of his thumb. “Tae’s missing out on a quality movie with a quality person.”

If the quality person is supposed to be Jungkook, not one braincell is ready to delve into that. Jungkook reacts rapidly, instead. “Michael Cera is a quality person.”

Yoongi snorts, before shifting Jungkook’s laptop so he could type in his own information. “That he is, my dude. That he is.”

Only a little while later, Yoongi says he reserved one of the sound booths at school and needs to get back there to work on his own stuff. Jungkook doesn’t keep him and they both rise to leave.

“It was nice seeing you,” Yoongi says, and only when they’re both standing does Jungkook realize he’s a decent amount taller than Yoongi. It makes him feel weird, given the meekening effect he has on Jungkook.

Jungkook flushes. “Thank you for helping me with my project.”

Yoongi shrugs in return, hoisting his back a little higher up. Jungkook notices an assortment of rings and bracelets, decorating his arm. The silvers and golds reflect nicely against the pallor of his skin. Jungkook barely misses the words being spoken to him. “You sound really passionate about it. I’ve never heard you talk this much before.”

He stares at him, almost skeptical. Nervously, Jungkook wonders if he had that much of a stuttering, lasting impression on Yoongi, back in August. “You’ve only met me once before today.”

“Yeah well-, ah wait you forgot your hat.” As Jungkook begins to move away from the table, Yoongi stops him. Jungkook spins back around to locate the missing beanie, only for his backpack to knock the glass from before off the table, sending it to the floor.

Jungkook hears it shatter into a million pieces because he doesn’t dare open his eyes to see it happen.

“Shit,” Yoongi mutters. Jungkook cracks an eye, then, to see him stepping away from the broken glass. The pieces shine against the wooden floor like gems Jungkook would gladly smash his face on. Everyone else at their tables have now turned to watch what had happened.

Jungkook wants to melt his skin into the floor and die.

He wants to become the next vegan haggis served here.

It’s easy to stress himself out about things like this: things that are inherently his fault. “I’m s-so s-sorry,” Jungkook stammers to the employee he sees coming over with a broom.

The girl mumbles a quiet it’s okay when Jungkook knows it’s really really not.

“L-let me d-do it,” The employee offers him a kind smile with a shake of her head, before turning back to the brooming at hand.

There’s a part of him that feels as though he needs to say more. Say something, offer to help, Jungkook doesn’t know. But the longer he stands there, the longer he experiences a cognitive dissonance so intense, he hightails it out of the café, Yoongi hot on his ankles.

“It’s fine, Jungkook,” Yoongi tries to assure when they get outside. His voice is almost carried by the wind. “I’m sure it’s not the first time they’ve had a glass break.”

Jungkook shakes his head, too nervous and embarrassed to ever go back in there. He stops walking away so he can face Yoongi. He thinks they’re a safe distance away from the café, after rounding the corner of the sidewalk. “Should I p-pay them?”

Yoongi frowns slightly, readjusting his bag on his shoulders. “No, why would you? They didn’t tell you to, and you said sorry.”

“I, hm-,” Jungkook’s words get completely blocked behind his mouth and he just can’t seem to say anything. It’s like he’s choking on nothing. Yoongi watches for a moment, before trying to take action. To Jungkook, it’s probably the worst thing that he could’ve done.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks, trying to take a step closer.

“F-fine!” Jungkook bursts, having anticipated that to be his next answer. Even when he tries his hardest, he always just come off stunted. Every time he speaks it just seems to get worse and Jungkook knows he can’t put himself through much more embarrassment of this nature. “I’ll uh-, I g-gotta go. B-bye!”

Jungkook walks off quickly. He kind of completely feels like shit.


Taehyung tries to tell him it isn’t so bad, that night. Jungkook’s sure that Taehyung has these motivational messages on hand, after years of having to experience second-hand embarrassment on behalf of his best friend. He probably wouldn’t put it so harshly, Taehyung always says he doesn’t mind, but Jungkook still feels bad.

He plays with Jungkook’s hair, throws a PS4 remote into his lap and tells him that who gives a fuck what he sounds like.

Jungkook gives a fuck.

And he probably has to apologize for freaking out on Yoongi, but he’s too afraid to text him right now. He has no idea the kind of reaction he’ll get. More than anything, Jungkook is terrified that Yoongi will find him too emotionally messy to work with. That he’s best to not waste his time helping some freshman that he doesn’t even know.

Jungkook manages to hold off on further embarrassing himself for like, an hour. Then, it almost kills him.

You: HI

You: *hi

Yoongi: hey!

You: hi



Jungkook is already sweating.


You: I’m so sorry about today

Yoongi: oh

Yoongi: I told you it was fine though? couldve happened to anyone

You: yeah but then

Yoongi: ?

You: running off

Yoongi: lmao that’s fine too. i knew u were nervous!

There’s a pause between this and Yoongi’s next text, which Jungkook wasn’t expecting. He was still ruminating over what to reply, when he saw Yoongi typing again.


Yoongi: so when do u wanna meet up next?


It occurs to Jungkook, only then, that Yoongi isn’t going to bring up his stuttering episode. Neither of them will. At some point, Taehyung leans over to see who he’s texting, but doesn’t say anything. Simply, petting at Jungkook’s head until he lies down on the couch.

When they stop texting, Jungkook clutches his phone like it’s attached to his arm and falls asleep with it against his chest.


Jungkook sees Yoongi, entirely accidentally, as he’s coming out of his political science class. As he’d done for most of the beginning of the year, Jungkook had tried to actively avoid him. There was just something…stressful about seeing Yoongi in public. Jungkook couldn’t entirely explain it, but it made him nervous.

He turns to go in the other direction, even though that would mean an even longer detour back to his dorm room. Jungkook pretends not to see Yoongi, but that doesn’t mean that Yoongi pretends to not see him.

“Jungkook!” He hears, decently loud in the not entirely crowded hallway. Jungkook halts as he was trying to walk away, because there’s no conceivable way he could say he hadn’t heard that. When he pivots on his heels and turns around, Yoongi is walking over to him, smiling.

“I was starting to think you were a complete hermit.” He jokes. He’s so much shorter than Jungkook, when they’re standing this close to each other. Jungkook actually…he doesn’t know. The difference makes him feel kind of fluttery, and a little more awkward. Suddenly way more aware of how clumsy he could be with his height.

“I go to school,” Jungkook mutters back, a blush on the tip of his nose. “I’m productive.”

“How would I know?” Yoongi banters, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe Taehyung keeps you locked in your room. Only feeding you instant noodles and scraps of paper.”

Jungkook wrinkles his nose just as Yoongi smiles even wider, showing the tops of his teeth. “You’re gross.”

“I’m ingenious.”

It should probably be a lot weirder, having a conversation in the middle of the hallway. Jungkook wouldn’t dream of it before. He’d never really been the type to stop what he was doing, in favour of prioritizing something else. But Min Yoongi just made him literally stop in his tracks, and stay for a quite conversation.

It was so weird.

Jungkook only snaps out of his thoughts, when he really has to.

“I think the dude over there is trying to get your attention.” Yoongi jerks his chin suddenly in the direction behind Jungkook’s left shoulder. When he turns around, a guy from his class is in fact standing there, awkwardly. He makes eye-contact with Jungkook, and suddenly springs into action.

“Hey! J-J-Jungkook,” Jungkook freezes just as he knows Yoongi is frowning behind him.

“Hi.” He answers back, giving nothing away in his expression.

“Can you do me a f-f-favour?”

Yoongi shifts behind Jungkook, and when he shoots him a glance, he sees that Yoongi’s face is dangerously impassive.

Jungkook shrugs, turning back to his classmate. “What is it?”

“I fell asleep during Prof Choi’s lecture. Do you think you could send me your n-n-notes?” He snickers, maybe trying to some amicable.

Jungkook gets it. He’d have to be a complete idiot to not noticed the exaggerated stammering permeating the end of his sentences. A mock resemblance to Jungkook’s own impediment. He’d had to deal with a lot when he was twelve. He didn’t really think people could still continue to be so ignorant, or so cruel. Jungkook gets it, though. And that’s why it doesn’t hurt.

“Sorry, I didn’t t-,” Jungkook stops, grinds his jaw tightly for a moment before speaking again. “I didn’t take any.”

The guy leaves without much hassle, after not getting what he wanted from Jungkook.

Yoongi had been so quiet, that Jungkook hadn’t realized he was still there. That is, until he was about to start leaving and was stopped.


“What?” He says quickly. “If anyone else has favours, they might as well ask now.”

Yoongi scowls deeper at that, taking his hand off of Jungkook’s shoulder. He shakes his head minutely. “I just wanted to ask if you were-,”

“Fine.” Jungkook finishes, nodding his head vigorously. He sighs, puffing his cheeks out before exhaling again heavily. “I’m fine. Okay? I’ll see you to work on the project.”

Jungkook does get to leave and this time he’s uninterrupted.


Jungkook and Yoongi only end up meeting again, two weeks later. Jungkook doesn’t really need Yoongi for most of the project, so he tries to get a lot of it done before they see each other again. There’s a part of him, Jungkook finds, that almost wants Yoongi to be impressed with him. His work, rather. Yoongi had just known so much, that Jungkook wanted to be equal in that intelligence too. Didn’t want to disappoint him.

Though they don’t meet for two weeks they stayed in strong contact. Surprisingly. Jungkook thought he’d have to awkwardly text Yoongi after an appropriate amount of time and remind him that they should meet, but he never did.

Yoongi would often text him first, immediately jumping into anecdotes from his day or other things a like. Sometimes he would send him articles on speech therapy, when he says he came across them while browsing the internet. (Jungkook was skeptical though: how many times do you just come across very specific articles? Hm.)

Jungkook, in a natural exchange of goods, would trade memes. Some of his best ones, might he add. He’d worried that he’d gotten a little bit carried away at first, only to discover that Yoongi seems to be a pretty avid connoisseur of them. Though he tends to stray more towards the cute reaction pics. More than once, Jungkook catches himself smiling down at his phone screen as he saves new memes to his file.

“No one smiles this much while watching mobile hentai.” Taehyung had joked and Jungkook jabbed his elbow into his side. He didn’t bother telling him he was texting Yoongi.

When Two Weeks Later finally rears it’s head, Jungkook is nervous to meet up. He knows he’s going to come off so differently than he had through text. For him, it was so much easier to write things out. Evidently so.

Yoongi had texted him the location of the sound booth he was in and now Jungkook just had to get there. It wasn’t all that far, but the crowd of people slowly changed from general student population to music students. The farther into the area Jungkook got, the more nervous he got. He probably looked so awkward here. Jungkook’s always liked art but not as a major, he didn’t want to ruin it for himself, and maybe they can sense his own personal disdain. They’re like sharks, he thinks. They can probably smell fear, or blood, or whatever it is they smell. Food, maybe-,

Jungkook almost hits a wall when he forgets to turn, but thankfully, no one sees him.

He manages to find Yoongi with little to no trouble, after that. He’s tucked into one of the booths at the end of the hallway. Jungkook can see him through the small window in the door, working away at the computer with his headphones in, his back turned.

Jungkook knocks, but he’s sure from the lack of reaction he gets and how quiet he was, Yoongi hadn’t heard him.

Jungkook decides to just step into the room, but as he goes to shut the door, the knob slips from his hand. The door slams heavily against the frame. He steps to the side of the room, avoiding the noise right in his ear.

Jungkook watches Yoongi jump in his seat, just as he does as well. If he was a cat, his hairs would’ve been standing on end. Yoongi yanks his headphones out and whips his head around. When he sees no one at the door, he goes to turn back to his work, only to see Jungkook on his other side. Yoongi shouts.

“Jesus Christ,” He curses, rubbing a hand down his face. He doesn’t look pleased in the slightest, but there’s something niggling and funny that Jungkook can’t seem to place. He needs to chew on his lip to stop from giggling. Yoongi completely notices it, when he fixes Jungkook with a dead stare. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“You’re easy to scare, I guess.” Jungkook shrugs, letting himself grin unbridled. He can see Yoongi chew on the inside of his cheek.

“You come into my house, you disrespect me-,”

“Don’t work with your back to the door.” Jungkook teases, poking his tongue out. He goes about it himself to take the other available seat.

“Why not?” Yoongi scowls back. “Are you telling me that if someone came in with the intention to kill me, I wouldn’t be able to defend myself?”

Jungkook does giggle that time. He likes it when they go back and forth like this, him and Yoongi. It’s like something soft settles over his insides. “You couldn’t defend yourself from me.”

“I have a black belt in karate.” Yoongi sighs, turning his gaze back to his computer screen.

Jungkook smirks. “So do I.”

Yoongi’s gaze slides back to him. He seems skeptical, but the glint in Jungkook’s eye must be convincing enough. He lets out one heavy sigh, before scooting his chair over a little bit. “Problem is, I believe you. Okay now come over here, let’s listen to some shit.”

Jungkook scoots his chair over so he’s on the same side as Yoongi. He flushes pink when Yoongi places his headphones on Jungkook’s head, flattening down the hairs that get ruffled in the process. Yoongi’s hands are soft when the barely brush against his forehead for a moment, it’s nice.

He can still hear Yoongi’s voice, while there’s no music playing, albeit being a little muffled.

“I’ve been looking at putting together something more slowed down, or chill, I guess, to help you get an idea for your project. But,” Yoongi shrugs, pulling up a separate file and lowering the volume that had ben at max before. “This is what I have so far. Want me to press play?” Jungkook watches Yoongi’s lips move, nodding in agreement at the statement. Yoongi snorts when he realizes.

Jungkook is shocked when Yoongi does finally press play and the music starts flowing. If Jungkook were to shut his eyes, which he might have, really, he would picture a multitude of things. He imagines running water down the stream that widens to the ocean. He imagines the ocean as soft and quiet. Piano tiles vibrate like custard cloud shaking rain droplets from their spines. Jungkook doesn’t know what he’s feeling but it’s unnatural.

It’s unlike anything he’s ever heard before. Ever. It’s as though not a single thing has been left out. Every sound seems to be complete, when Jungkook tries to dissect it with his mind. When he tries to focus on each individual element, he finds that there are just too many to count, it isn’t possible. There’s so much detail, so much story, into this one, relatively small mix. It’s soft, but loud in a weird way at the same time. In a way that makes Jungkook’s ears roar and his heart sigh just a little bit.  He hadn’t realized he could long for a feeling this much.

Jungkook doesn’t realize when it ends, because Yoongi plays it again almost immediately. After the second time, he stops it, and Jungkook lets the headphones hang around his neck, when Yoongi tugs them off.

“Speak to me Jungkook,” Yoongi says, a small laugh in his voice though when Jungkook looks over, he actually looks nervous. “You’re scaring me.”

Jungkook only shakes his head. For a few moments, he can’t think of anything he could say. Some things are just too shocking to describe.

“You’re so…how are you so good?” Jungkook asks finally, wide-eyed. He watches Yoongi visibly balk at the statement, clearly taking his words with a grain of salt. “I’m serious, how are you so good?”

“It was nothin’,” Yoongi grumbles quietly, almost sinking further into his sweater. “I’ll have to fix it-,”

“Touch it and I break your neck.”

Yoongi’s mouth hangs open slightly at Jungkook’s choice of words, even Jungkook is shocked, but he nods after a moment. He’ll still work on it once Jungkook’s gone.

“Can I hear more?” Jungkook asks, bringing his legs up so that he’s sitting cross-legged in the chair. He’s enthusiastic. “Please?”

“More…of the things I’ve done?” Yoongi asks, features furrowing for a moment. “Really?”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to scowl, squirming slightly in his seat. “Well…yeah? Can I?”

Once again, Yoongi seems to be at a loss for words. Jungkook doesn’t really understand why.

“Um,” Yoongi starts and suddenly Jungkook just feels bad. Like, he said something weird. Or he got too excited. “Maybe another time?”


“Yeah it’s just. Sometimes my music gets a little bit. Personal? So like, yeah, maybe another time.”

“That’s fine!” Jungkook complies easily, surprised to see this shyer side of Yoongi. “I’m s-sorry for asking.”

Yoongi arches an eyebrow, shaking his head. “Don’t be. I’ll show them to you someday.” He smiles warmly and Jungkook finds himself nodding his head vigorously. “Now, back to your project, mister.”

Talking with Yoongi about anything, Jungkook finds, is unbelievably easy. They both have similar enough opinions, but with just enough difference to make conversations easy and interesting. After Jungkook explains the kind of research he’d done, the kinds of sounds he found to be best fitting for working with speech, Yoongi takes note of that. He says he’ll make small adjustments to the track. Jungkook pouts at the thought but then Yoongi is poking his bottom lip with his index finger. He flushes brightly.

“I think we’ll get a really good mark.” Jungkook’s practically bouncing in his seat.

“You’ll get a good mark,” Yoongi retorts, already fixing some of the things he’d written. His dual focus is unbeatable. “It’s your project, anyways.”

He’s right. Jungkook had somehow forgotten. They just worked so well together that he’d momentarily lapsed on the information that Yoongi was doing this to help him. He, himself, didn’t get anything from this.

“Maybe my teacher can like, get you credit.” Jungkook says softly, eyes in his lap, suddenly feeling guilty.

“I don’t want it?” It’s phrased as a question but Jungkook knows Yoongi is making himself clear.

“But your work-,”

“Is to help you, Kook-ah.” Jungkook’s eyes do widen a bit at that. It sounds really nice rolling out of Yoongi’s mouth. Kind of like velvet mixed with happy. “Because I want to. This is fun to me.”

“I,” Jungkook’s a little shell-shocked. He’s never met someone as openly selfless. “okay.” He acquiesces quietly.

The conversation starts back up again but quickly drifts from the project to many other things. Jungkook talks about his bourgeoning interest in photography, how he always though he’d pursue dancing but then decided against it. He talks about his dog back home: he’s kinda ugly but I love him so much.

“Do you want to go back home, after university?” Yoongi asks. Jungkook ponders it for a moment. “Back to Busan, I mean.”

“I don’t…think so?” Jungkook readjusts his legs on his chair. “I need to go back after to like, sort some things out, maybe spend the summer or some time. But I don’t want to stay there, ya know?”

“I do.” Yoongi agrees, almost solemnly.

Jungkook smiles softly, his eyelashes flutter. “And you, Yoongi-hyung?” 

Yoongi shrugs, “I’m going to go back for a bit, yeah.”

“Back to?”





Yoongi chuckles lightly and shakes his head. The eye contact he holds with Jungkook makes his insides feel like they’re melting. “Yeah, it’s pretty far. But I’ll come back to Seoul. All the job opportunities are here anyways.”

Jungkook scrunches up his nose in distaste. “A job.”

“Don’t make that face.” Yoongi mocks back. “Just because that’s my fate sooner, doesn’t mean it’s not coming up quickly for you.”

“It’s not.” Jungkook answers a little mock in his voice. He’s unsure if he’s happy or not that he’s only a freshman. He isn’t sure if he’s happy Yoongi is a senior, but he isn’t too sure why.

“So, what’s the story then?” Yoongi asks, rolling his chair around so that he’s facing Jungkook, completely. He also pulls his legs up to the chair, placing them on his side.

“The story?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, wringing his fingers together without realizing. He isn’t sure what Yoongi could possibly want to know.

“Yeah like, you’re friends with Tae, randomly showed up here,” He gesticulates with his hands, vaguely trying to get his point across. Jungkook can only shake his head, is immediately lost at Yoongi’s words. “Did you switch majors? Already serve? Take time off?”

“Switch majors?” Jungkook echoes back, questioningly.

Yoongi shrugs. Jungkook looks like a baby bat, all big-eyed and droopy mouthed. “Not that that’s a bad thing at all. Some people might think it is but I don’t. I’m just curious ‘is all.”

Jungkook still shakes his head, confused. “What makes you think I switched majors?”

“Uh,” It’s Yoongi’s turn to look confused. He practically mimics Jungkook’s head tilt. “You’re Tae’s best friend that didn’t go here until this year, and you’re in your first year. I guess I’m assuming you went somewhere else-,”

Jungkook nods, face blank. Then he gets it. “Ah, but I didn’t switch majors? This is my first year. Taehyung’s been my best friend since like, forever. Seriously haha.”

Yoongi halts, as if he’s been frozen in midair. His expression changes into one of almost scrutiny. Or disbelief. Jungkook can’t be sure. “You’re a freshman?”

Jungkook feels like he’s being interrogated, squirms in his seat. “Um, yes?”

Yoongi looks even more puzzled. “How old are you?”

Jungkook blinks a few times. “I just turned nineteen in September. Like, most freshmans.”

“Oh,” Yoongi’s voice seems meek, his features upturned in surprise. “Shit.”

“What.” Jungkook almost whines. He can’t figure it out. Why does Yoongi look so weird?

“I don’ know I just-,” Yoongi looks sheepish. “ I thought you were older.” He states, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Like, twenty-one.”

“Oh, I-I’m, no.” Jungkook mumbles, feeling stupid and silly and young. Did he really look that little but important bit older? Was it even important? “S-Sorry?” He offers lamely.

“I feel like I’m way older than you.” Yoongi scowls for a moment. Jungkook doesn’t answer because he doesn’t even know what he can say. It seems more like a personal problem. “I’m twenty-three.”

“It’s only a few years.” He ends up muttering, almost petulantly. Why does it even matter?

“It doesn’t!” Yoongi defends, voice louder and little strained. Jungkook hadn’t realized he said that out loud. “It doesn’t matter. I just…hadn’t realized you were that young. Is all. Swear on it.”

It doesn’t seem like that’s all but what is Jungkook to say? He can’t possibly know what Yoongi’s thinking. If anything, that is. Reluctantly, and with help from Yoongi’s slightly pleading look, he takes it.

“Okay,” Jungkook swallows, looking at the time on the computer monitor and cursing. He’d promised Taehyung he’d be back to watch the newest episode of Tokyo Ghoul. “um, I think we need to meet like once more. Get your feedback on the project an’ stuff. Then, it’ll be done.”

“Cool.” Yoongi nods, perhaps a little awkwardly. Because all of a sudden, that’s what it is: awkward.

“Okay,” Jungkook repeats dumbly. He uncrosses his legs and goes to stand, finding his balance to be more than off. Jungkook can’t exactly remember the last time he ate (It was probably the noodles Taehyung made with a bottle of water, this morning). Jungkook finds himself disoriented, if the stars and dizziness are of any indication. He flails for a moment, before Yoongi’s reached out a hand to grab his forearm, steadying him.

“Easy.” His voice his deep and quiet. Jungkook looks at down at the hand, once he’s regained his footing. He swallows. It looks so big, veined and strong. Yoongi’s skin is a lot paler than his own, and the contrast is pleasant. Something cool and thick settles in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach.

“-Kook? Earth to Jungkook?”

Yoongi’s waving his free hand in front of Jungkook’s eyes, suddenly blinking in surprise. How long had he been staring? “Oh, s-sorry.”

“And the signal is back online.” Yoongi sighs with a smile. Jungkook feels the slightest bit upset when he lets go of his arm. Yoongi lift his hand to his ear, curving it as though it was a phone. “Houston? Yes this is Min Yoongi, we’ve made contact with the satellite.”

“You’re w-weird Yoongi-ssi,” Jungkook huffs, face red with a blush he didn’t know was creeping up on him. Yoongi only laughs heartedly in response. It isn’t so awkward anymore.

“Call me hyung or call me nothing, Kook.”

“Can I call you tonight?”


Jungkook slings his bag over his shoulder, pushing the chair back into it’s rightful place and takes the slow two steps towards the door. He snickers. Before leaving, he turns around and offers Yoongi a salute. “Satellite JK is going offline, commander.”

Yoongi chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment, before shaking his head in mock dismay. “That was worse than me. Get out of here, kid.”

Jungkook does, with a smile on his face.


Jungkook gets back to his dorm room with a stupid grin plastered to his face.


Yoongi-hyung: how many steps do u think u are from where I am

You: I would say at least 12

Yoongi-hyung: ur not wrong

Yoongi-hyung: 13

Yoongi-hyung: 14


“Uh-oh, he’s completely lost his mind.” Taehyung says, peering at him curiously from where his head is nestled in Namjoon’s chest.

Jungkook doesn’t even bother kicking his shoes off, just shuffles towards his bed slowly, mindful of the piles of laundry and trash around the room.


Yoongi-hyung: 15



“Do you think he can even hear us right now?” Namjoon asks, watching Jungkook’s skillful manoeuvre towards his bed. Jungkook flops down onto it face-first, nose practically glued to his phone.

“Not in the slightest.” Taehyung concludes.


Yoongi-hyung: 16

Yoongi-hyung: are u back to ur room safely

You: she’s died

Yoongi-hyung: JUNGKOOK


“Was that a giggle I just heard?” Namjoon asks, turning to Taehyung, who confirms it with a motherly nod.

“It most definitely was. He giggles when he’s extra happy. He hasn’t even noticed we totally watched Tokyo Ghoul without him.”

You: I’m kidding im here

You: im sleepy zzzzzz

Yoongi-hyung: go to sleep u clown

You: satellite to earth, systems shutting down. AI logging off.

Yoongi-hyung: you’re such a dork

Yoongi-hyung: …

Yoongi-hyung: goodnight from the earth

Jungkook is with the stars.


The day before he’s due to hand in his project, Jungkook sees Yoongi again.

The month had drawn itself out longer than he’d expected. Jungkook had had other assignments to temporarily prioritize, working with the ebb and flow of overly-enthusiastic professors. He had to find time to cram in a few tutoring sessions for his Econ class that made absolutely no sense, too. It was entirely exhausting.

Though Jungkook liked most of his classes decently, he found himself completely enamored by his project. He’d search up information on speech impediments just for fun, trying to see if maybe the topic he’d picked out of convenience actually had depth behind it. And he was fascinated. Jungkook didn’t really believe it would fix anything for him, but like, it helped. Maybe. Who knows. It sounds weird to say that Jungkook considers himself helpless. He doesn’t he just- Jungkook tells himself it doesn’t bother him like it used to.

Jungkook’s already written up his final report, listened and saved the final mix from Yoongi, something he really hopes his professor will enjoy. If anything, that was an add-on to their project. Jungkook didn’t have to bring any samples or specific examples, but he wanted to go above and beyond. All there’s left to do is get Yoongi to answer some of Jungkook’s final questions.

And then, well, that’s it.

Jungkook is on his way to Yoongi’s room, and he’s nervous.

“What if it’s like. Weird? I-in there?” Jungkook asks Taehyung, as he’s putting on his shoes. He’s struggling to jam his feet into them, he never undoes the laces.

Taehyung huffs out a small sound of protest. “It’s not? I don’t remember it being weird.”

“What if he kills me.”

“Oh yeah,” Taehyung rolls his eyes, reaching into the cabinet under the small television and throwing a granola bar at Jungkook. “as if he wouldn’t have killed you beforehand, in the soundproof studio.”

Taehyung doesn’t really ask about Yoongi, in relation to Jungkook. He knows they’re in correspondence for the project, courtesy of him, but that’s all he knows for a fact. Jungkook can assume Taehyung also knows that they talk frequently, because it’s not like he’s an avid friend-maker or a social nucleus. Anyone could know that.

 But, Jungkook’s happy Taehyung isn’t getting involved, actually. If he knows and he’s just letting Jungkook go, watching from the sidelines, then he’s happy. Make Taehyung is happy for him.

Jungkook likes having a whole new friend to add to his like, one and a half.

Besides Taehyung, Jungkook isn’t too sure if there’s anyone he connects with as much as he does with Yoongi. Yoongi’s just so smart and so funny, so charming and it makes Jungkook kind of feel like worms are wiggling around in his stomach. Good worms, he would imagine. Jungkook’s sort of hoping that Yoongi feels the same way. Though, he doesn’t really know what to make of those feelings anyways. He just acknowledges their existence, and coexists with them. It’s nice.

Jungkook is so lost in thought that he barely hears Taehyung say bye, already closing the door after himself.

His backpack almost seems to bulge out from his back like a turtle shell, bobbing along as he walks.

The other night, Yoongi had said that his favourite ramen was shrimp, which grossed Jungkook out to no extent, but he went to the store the next morning and bought him a cup, regardless. He figures it’ll be his little surprise, and not nearly enough thanks for hall of Yoongi’s help. Jungkook isn’t too sure there’s anything he could do, to thank him.

When he realizes that he’s landed in front of Yoongi’s door, Jungkook is afraid to knock. What if it smells weird in there? Like…not bad but just weird? What if Yoongi actually has baby pigs fermenting in jars, alongside his window sill? What if-,

“I can see your shadow under the door.”

Yoongi’s muffled voice makes Jungkook jump, a small eek leaving his lips. He hears the door unlatch from the inside and suddenly it’s swinging open. Jungkook, albeit, holds his breath.

At first, all he sees is Yoongi. Definitely, definitely not a bad thing, Jungkook notes. He’s wearing soft looking sweatpants and an even softer looking long-sleeved shirt. He looks almost sleepy, in that adorable, cherubic kind of way.

There’s something about seeing someone in their territory, in the place they’re most comfortable, that’ll always leave Jungkook a little bit mystified.

“You don’t have to keep standing there.” Yoongi says, stepping out of the way to let Jungkook inside.

Honestly, Jungkook chides his past self for being so uselessly dramatic. The inside of Yoongi’s room is actually really fucking nice. Both beds are made, (Jungkook can tell which one’s Yoongi’s by the kumamon throw pillow), and things seem to be neatly put away. It’s interesting, probably only to Jungkook but it’s neat in the kind of way that still looks lived in. Makes Yoongi seem human and even more real.

“You’re still standing there.” Yoongi mutters.

“I’m thinking.” Jungkook whines, finally decided to act normal and move into the room.

“My bad,” Yoongi muses, reaching up to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook hadn’t realized that Yoongi had crept up behind him. “Doing two things at once must be so difficult.”

“Mean.” Jungkook huffs, setting his bag down gently on the floor. Yoongi’s is carpeted, Jungkook notices. He slips off his shoes and leaves them at the doorway.

“After this, I’m taking the fattest fucking nap.” Yoongi groans, stretching. Jungkook swears he hears his back pop.

“That sounds amazing.” Jungkook almost moans in agreement. A nap would be wonderful right now. By looking at Yoongi, Jungkook can come to the conclusion that they’re on the same wavelength of exhaustion. Early December means that finals are creeping up right behind them, and if there was anything they all needed more than food, additional study hours and good grades, it was a fucking nap.

“I’m sure this won’t take too long.” Jungkook assures, mostly for Yoongi’s sake, crouching down to take out his laptop. He almost pulls out the ramen cups but decides to hide them for later. Yoongi sits on the edge of his bed, patting the space next to him for Jungkook.

He doesn’t even properly react at first. Sitting on Yoongi’s bed.

Don’t be weird, Jungkook. What the fuck.

“Okay,” Jungkook clear his throat, sitting down and feeling the mattress dip beneath him. Comfy. He busies himself with keeping his eyes trained on the screen. “I just need to like, record your answers to some questions.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, questioningly. “Really?”

“The recording is only for me.” Jungkook blurts out. “N-Not in a creepy way!” Jungkook defends himself as Yoongi chuckles. “I just need to play it back so I can write it down later. If that’s like, cool with you.”

“Oh,” Yoongi nods his head a few times. He smiles softly at Jungkook. “That’s cool.”

Jungkook opens up the voice memos on his phone and gets his small question sheets ready. He takes a few extra moments to stall, because there was something that kept making him nervous. Jungkook

presses play, and starts reading off the questions. It’s a little nerve-wracking for the both of them, at first, because neither are too sure how to act. The presence of the recorder is stressful, to say the least. Yoongi has a hard time being candid about his answers, only mumbling quietly and shortly. It’s only when Jungkook covers his phone from sight with his hand and engages in conversation, do things start to move.

It’ll probably be a pain to playback later, though. Jungkook had only intended to record Yoongi’s individual answers and write them down, not to have a full-blown conversation with him about this.

“I think it’s honestly fascinating.” Jungkook admits, Yoongi’s watching him with the softest gaze he’s seen from him. “How like, your mind can alter your reactions, with like, speech and stuff.”

“It is.” Yoongi agrees. “Do you think it works?”

Jungkook seems to have an answer on the tip of his tongue. He’s spent countless hours reading up about this for this assignment, he should be an expert by now. “I mean, I guess it does? Scientifically, if you can focus on something that motivates you-,”

“No no.” Yoongi interrupts, eyes curious and thoughtful at the same time. “Do you think it works? For you.”

Jungkook feels like a deer in headlights caught in a snowball. Like too many metaphors at once, it’s hurting his brain. His brows furrow, understanding the question but not…completely. “F-for me?”

Now, with the patient nod Yoongi gives him, Jungkook understands. And he really doesn’t want to. 

“I, hm-,” His heart feels like it’s going to drum out of his chest. Jungkook’s hand lifts off his phone and slams on the button to stop the recording, before he can realize what he’s doing. His words are lodged somewhere between I’m embarrassing myself and how fucking long has Yoongi known.

“We don’t have to talk about it.” Yoongi says softly.

“N-nothing to talk ab-about.” Jungkook stutters. Stutters and hates it.

“Of course.” Yoongi nods, he looks almost upset. “We don’t have to talk about it. I just,” He sighs, plays with one of the earrings on his cartilage. “I want you to know it’s nothing bad.”

“Well, I d-don’t like it.” Jungkook’s proud that at least his words are firm, when his voice fails to be. He finds himself to caught up in the emotion of being find out like a secret, to delve into the topic anymore.  “It’s an-annoying and I don’t like it.”

Jungkook isn’t mad, per say. Incredibly embarrassed? Yes. But that’s only because someone that he didn’t want to look at him like-, like a freak or someone to pity, could very well think of him in that light, now. Because it’s what always happens. If Jungkook starts getting comfortable with someone, the more vulnerable he gets, the more likely it is to slip out. He’s always faced with the same comments of whoa, I didn’t know you had that, and does that thing ever go away?

It doesn’t. Not completely. Not for him.

Jungkook doesn’t like that Yoongi knows. Because maybe Jungkook doesn’t want Yoongi to find him weird. Weirder than usual.

“Hey,” Yoongi murmurs, Jungkook looks down to see that Yoongi’s placed a hand on top of his. “I’m sorry. Really.”

“It’s fine.” Jungkook has to grit the words out to stop his voice from betraying him. He probably seems so angry. “Maybe I should just-,”

“Stay.” Yoongi says resolutely. Jungkook casts a wary glance. His hand is still in Yoongi’s. Something about it is steadying and disruptive at the same time. “Wanna listen to some music?”

“Oh. I-, sure.” Jungkook swallows, forcing some of the nerves to go away. Yoongi isn’t kicking him out. Yoongi isn’t making him feel bad. His leg keeps bouncing up and down, rocking the bed slightly. It’s quiet as Yoongi reaches over his nightstand to grab headphones. Jungkook’s gaze falls to his open backpack, where the lid of the shrimp ramen is peeking out. He’d almost forgotten.

“I have something,” Jungkook starts moronically, sliding off the bed and practically dropping to his knees to scuttle across the carpet. He thinks he hears Yoongi laugh behind him. He grabs the cup, hides it under his shirt and turns so he’s kneeling in front of Yoongi. It’s only a slightly odd position.

“I know you said these were your favourite, and I’m like, a broke college student but I really w-wanted to thank you for helping.” Jungkook yanks the two cups stacked on top of each other out from under his shirt and holds it out to Yoongi like an offering of sorts.

Yoongi, for a moment, seems to be at a lost for words. He just stares at Jungkook, and then at the ramen, a little mystified and maybe a lot endeared.

“Take it already, old man.” Jungkook mutters, holding it out farther to him. He hopes his arms don’t quiver as well.

“You’re so…cute,” Is all Yoongi replies, which were totally not the words he’d wanted and should’ve said, in response to being called old.

Jungkook’s heart does a backflip down his throat, feels a little bit sick as he drops his eyes to the floor. Hearing Yoongi call him cute was…really nice. Really really nice. “Take the ramen.” He stresses further, voice quiet and shy.

Yoongi does take it, holding it gently as though it was a precious gift and not worth less than a dollar. “Thank you, Kook-ah.” He says, also pulling Jungkook to stand properly. Before Jungkook can tell him it’s no problem, Yoongi’s pulled him into a hug.

Jungkook is awkward about hugging back at first, because he’s an awful overthinker. Where does he place his arms? Is Yoongi going to be bugged if he’s too touchy? Regardless, he doesn’t have that much time to think about it, before something gives and he slots himself naturally.

It’s the best hug Jungkook’s ever had. And he’s best friends with Taehyung. That says something.

“O-oh,” He blushes, hugging back and trying to ignore the fact that Yoongi’s head fits really well in the curve of his shoulder and neck. “It’s cool.” His voice is tight and shy. He’s sure Yoongi can hear his heart hammering against his chest, like some sort of huge, lumbering love drum.

Yoongi gives him one last squeeze before pulling away, but Jungkook’s hands are still fisted in the front of his shirt. They’re close, like, definitely closer than Jungkook would get with most people he was hugging. From here, he can map out the little sun spots on Yoongi’s face, can see the flutter of his eyelashes and how pink his lips are.

“The music,” Yoongi whispers softly, Jungkook can feel the ghost of his breath against his cheek.

“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees, forcing himself to let go of Yoongi, stepping a step back.

When Yoongi plugs his headphones into his phone, goes to lie down on his bed and outstretches an earbud to Jungkook, he’s a little confused. “Come here,” Yoongi tells him, tugging him down onto the bed. “How do you feel about the oldies?”

Very timidly, Jungkook reclines back on the bed, following Yoongi’s position. There isn’t that much space to be had between the shared headphones, and the bed his pretty cramped. Comfortable as fuck, though. “Well, I like you, so.”

Yoongi yanks on his earlobe. “You’re a brat.”

“I’m kidding.” Jungkook giggles. “You’re not old.” Yoongi looks like he’s going to say something more, mouth already parted, but decides against it. Jungkook doesn’t press.

 When he tries to settle down, Jungkook can feel Yoongi’s side against his, the way his chest expands and retracts with every breath. His body is warm this way, and lying there with him makes Jungkook feel strangely small.

Jungkook puts the headphone in and can’t bring himself to look at Yoongi. He simply watches his phone screen as he pulls up his music, selects an artist and hits shuffle.

The song is soft and cute. By the sound quality you can tell that’s from somewhere along the 50s. It’s incredibly relaxing, the singer’s voice soft and melodious. The lyrics are sweet, very reminiscent of a young love and it stirs something inside of Jungkook. Something he doesn’t think too hard about, it would only ruin it for him.

Jungkook yawns, instead.

“I might fall asleep.” Jungkook admits quietly, the exhaustion he’s being carrying around finally catching up to him. He should really be getting back to his room, or to the library to cram some more studying, but he finds he really doesn’t want to.

“Thank god,” Yoongi says, his chest rumbles with a chuckle and Jungkook can feel it against his side. “I was worried I would pass out and you’d just have to leave awkwardly.”

Jungkook accepts Yoongi’s smile and takes that as a sign he can stay for a little bit.

The music is relaxing him a lot faster now. Jungkook tries to focus in on the lyrics but he finds that he can’t pay all that much attention to them, when Yoongi keeps shifting against him.

Jungkook is suddenly struck by the thought that the position they’re in is awfully…intimate. Jungkook likes cuddling sometimes, will often snuggle up to Taehyung while they watch Netflix, but this is different. Yoongi, well, he isn’t Taehyung. Not by a longshot.  

But his project ends tomorrow, and that fact suddenly hangs itself up in the rungs of his mind. It rattles him, to say the least. Jungkook feels like, for once, he needs to say something.

“S-Satellite to sp-space station,” Jungkook whispers softly. He secretly hopes that the words have been lost of Yoongi, because he’s about to fucking die of embarrassment for trying to start a conversation that way. How often does he not think things through?

“Roger that,” Yoongi’s voice is deep and sleepy, but he sounds like he’s laughing a little. Jungkook looks up and Yoongi hasn’t even opened his eyes. But he’s listening. “What seems to be the problem, kid?”

Jungkook sucks in a breath. He doesn’t a problem, per say. A worry, definitely. Yoongi’s arm moves so that it’s resting just above Jungkook’s head, on the pillow, when he doesn’t get an immediate answer from Jungkook.

“Are we...Can we s-still be friends? After the p-project?”

Yoongi cracks an eye at that, taking in the worried expression of Jungkook. His bright big eyes that keep flickering over Yoongi’s face, while waiting for an answer.

If possible, Jungkook’s eyes get even larger when Yoongi lifts the hand that was on the pillow to card through his hair a few times. “You think Hyung wouldn’t want to be your friend still?”

Jungkook wasn’t expecting to be asked anything back. He can only shrug, not too sure of the answer anyways. He hadn’t really considered whether Yoongi would want to stay friends or not, he’d only been thinking about himself. But why would he want to stay Jungkook’s friend? He’s just…weird. And Jungkook.

“Well,” Yoongi pats his hair down a few times, before fiddling with the wire of the headphones. “I do. So, you don’t have to worry about this anymore.”

“Really?” Jungkook asks, shocked and bug-eyed.

Yoongi scoffs, grabbing his phone and switching the song. “Yes, really. You’re like, really fucking cool.”

“You think I’m cool?”

“Can you stop being so shocked?” Yoongi huffs quietly, rolling his eyes. Jungkook swears he looks a little bit nervous.

He feels immediately better. Having heard that from Yoongi made things seem much less dismal. He rests his body back down on his allotted side of the bed. “Okay,”

Yoongi looks amused. “Okay.”

“Time to nap.” Jungkook shuts his eyes again. Yoongi’s hand resumes playing with his hair.

“Sleep well, Kook-ah.”

A few hours later, when a bleary-eyed Jungkook stumbles into his own room, Taehyung asks him where he disappeared to. An exhausted Jungkook tells him that he slept with Yoongi, before falling onto the couch and passing out again.

Taehyung yells.


Jungkook gets a 93% on his project. The grade went up about a week after he’d turned it in, and he’d been so stunned when he received the notification on his student email, that he’d almost dropped his phone into his soup. The teacher was a pretty strict grader as well, so for Jungkook to have done so well…he owes it to Yoongi.

“Be right back!” Jungkook shouts, leaping up from the couch and startling Taehyung, as he tears out of their room at lightning speed. He isn’t even sure where Yoongi would be right now, he was just so excited he needed to move.

Jungkook presses on Yoongi’s contact quickly, holding his ear up to his phone as he walks around the hall. He catches a glimpse of the heavy, December snow outside and decides that it’s best if he doesn’t leave anyways.

“Hello?” Yoongi’s voice is quiet, he’s probably in the library. “Jungkookie, are you okay?”

“Hyung!” His teeth dig into his bottom lip, with the force of his smile. He can imagine Yoongi holding his phone away from his ear.

“What is it?” Yoongi asks, voice still hushed. “Do you need me to come get you?”

“No no,” Jungkook passes by some people in the hallway, who eye him a little strangely. He isn’t really sure where he’s going. “I got an A on the project.” He huffs out a giant, elated sigh.

There’s a beat of silence on the other line, and Jungkook pulls the phone away from his ear to make sure the call hadn’t failed. “An A?” Yoongi asks. Even though Jungkook can’t see him, he can hear the slight pitch of excitement in his voice.

“Yes!” Jungkook all but shouts, still nearly skipping down the hallway. “An A, hyung! And-, and I had to call and tell you! We got a really good mark!”

You got a really good mark, Jungkookie!” Yoongi chuckles into the receiver. “Hyung is so, so proud of you.”

Jungkook has slowed down his pace, stopping for a moment to simply listen and think. He hasn’t heard too much from Yoongi this past week, both of them way too busy with the end of the semester. They’d texted, but neither of them had had much time to talk.

“I miss you,” Jungkook blurts suddenly into the phone. His voice is a bit breathless, on the quieter, more gentle side. “A lot.”

“I miss you.” Yoongi answers, without a beat of hesitation this time. Jungkook’s heart does a little sprint around the hallways of his body. “I wanna see you soon. Wanna go get food after my last exam, on Friday? I’ll pay, to treat you.”

“Yes!” Jungkook answers, probably too giddy and excited for going to grab dinner with your friend. But this was Yoongi. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“You’re adorable,” Yoongi sighs and maybe he wasn’t supposed to say that. Because, Jungkook is quiet when he hears it and Yoongi clears his throat awkwardly, after a moment. “I um- I’m at the library.”

“Oh,” Jungkook’s expression of shock moulds into a frown. He’s glad Yoongi can’t see him. “I’ll let you get back to work, hyung. I just wanted to call to let you know-,”

“I’m still super proud of you,” Yoongi cuts in. Jungkook can hear pages turning on the other line. “You did wonderfully.”

Jungkook flushes brightly, legs feeling a little bit shaky all of sudden, at Yoongi’s praise. Is it the praise or Yoongi that’s making him so flustered? He’ll never be sure. “O-okay,” He squeaks out. “I-, um, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jungkook can see Yoongi’s smile through the phone. “Now, let me get back to my work, brat.”

“You’re a rude ass, old ass, motherfucker.”

“Jeon Jungkook, I’ll kill you when I see you-,”

“On Friday.” He specifies for Yoongi, giggling stupidly. He’s so excited. “See you on Friday.” He can hear Yoongi start up again but Jungkook laughs as he hangs up the phone.


In the middle of the night, Jungkook wakes up, filled with a weird sort of heat. His pyjama shirt clings to his back like a clammy, second skin. For a moment, he thinks he’s woken up ill, with a fever raging through his body. Though, when Jungkook shifts his legs underneath the blanket, he feels himself half-hard against the inside of his thigh.

He could barely remember what he had dreamt, in terms of scenario. Though, he could remember the gist of what turned him on so much. A strangely familiar, gruff, voice that whispered vile things into his ear. Hands all over his body, making him feel small, caged and taken control of.

Jungkook whines quietly in the space around himself. It’s rare that he’ll have wet dreams. He supposes it makes sense, given the fact that with the rush of end-of-term, he hasn’t really had much time to get himself off. At his young age, and the usual intensity of his sex drive, Jungkook isn’t surprised if maybe- things have caught up to him.

“F-Fuck,” He mutters, a hand coming up to drag through his hair and down his heated cheeks. As quietly as he can, Jungkook flips onto his front. The bed still squeaks just shy of too loud. His eyes adjust briefly to the dark, and he’s reminded of the fact that Taehyung is sleeping right there, across the room. What if he wakes up?

Jungkook rolls his hips experimentally against his sheets, slightly scratchy, but good enough that he doesn’t care at all. He just finds himself to want too much. Too…needy.

Jungkook hisses at the friction of his pyjama bottoms against his cock, plumping steadily. He knows-, knows exactly what he had been dreaming of, and for the first time in a really long time, it wasn’t Hastune Miku. He doesn’t want to think of what was on his mind-, of who was on his mind.

He thinks of hands instead. He imagines a hand in his hair, carding through it heavily and tugging every so often, enough for it to sting. Hands ghosting over his face, down the sides of neck, fingers slipping into his mouth. Jungkook doesn’t realize when he shifts his arm closer to him, bringing his index and middle finger into his mouth. His lips part obscenely around his own digits, sucking wetly down to the hilt. He tries to be as quiet as possible, but Jungkook can’t help the slight mewl of disappointment at the feeling of his own fingers in his mouth. It’s not what he wants. His knuckles aren’t as big as the ones he’s imagining, fingers not nearly as calloused or as strong. He thinks about a hand pressing down firmly against his back, keeping him planted against the bed. Jungkook imagines a hand, pinching at his nipples, around his cock, fingering him open-,

He whines softly around the fingers in his mouth, letting go of them so he can drop his face into the crook of his elbow. Rutting against the sheets only serves to rile him up even more, cock fully hard and tipping upwards towards his stomach. It feels good, but it’s not enough.

Jungkook flips once more, onto his back. He shoots a furtive glance over to Taehyung’s sleeping form, only to ensure that he is, in fact, actually still asleep.

The coast is clear.

Under the cover, Jungkook’s hands shake as they push his pants low enough for his dick to be freed. Wrapping his hand around the shaft, Jungkook feels how wet he already is, lifting his index to swirl around the head, collecting precum. When Jungkook retightens his grip and pumps, it’s still a little dry, so he licks his palm before recommencing.

The thing is, it’s not hard for Jungkook to focus on what he wants. His mind has drifted from a set of hands to someone else’s dick. As good as the pleasure feels, Jungkook feels an odd kind of haziness transcending into disappointed that there’s nothing in his mouth. That the spit dragged across is mouth and cheek isn’t cum. He feels so dirty. Dirty thinking about this, and wanting-, wanting what he wants.

Jungkook’s hand speeds up, under the covers. As much as the twist is weird for his momentum, he turns onto his side to better conceal himself. 

It could be the fact that Jungkook hasn’t gotten off in a while, or the strange intensity of the way he’s feeling, but he finds that he won’t last all that long. The thoughts, the imagery rushing past his mind at lightning speed only makes him more desperate, hand tightening deliciously on the upstroke.

Jungkook’s hips keep squirming and trying to lift off the bed, his legs trying to straighten and kick out from where he’s curled them up tightly. His eyes are screwed shut, only feeding into the fantasies he wants even more. The familiar, safe feeling of his body pressed against Jungkook’s, the way he’d never wanted to move.

Jungkook’s other hand moves to roll his balls gently between his fingers and his palm, while he continues to rub the head of his cock quickly. He has to bite into his pillowcase to not utter a single sound, finding it almost too difficult. Everything is so hot around him. The closer he gets, the more he can think it’s real, that he’s touching him. A shock of silver hair enters his mind, rings on his fingers, a deep voice-,

Hyung is so proud of you.

He can’t be quiet even if he tried. The moan akin to a sob that tears its way out of throat, the evident schlick sound of his fist, it’s all too much. Jungkook’s eyes squeeze shut tightly, his tummy tightening and spasming as he comes all over his hand in spurts. He makes sure not to let any drip onto his sheets.

He wipes his hand against his stomach, still shuddering through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He doesn’t bother putting his pants back on, as he pulls the sheets up to his ears. Jungkook feels…weird. Like, not really the good kind of weird.

Why did he have to think of Yoongi and why isn’t he surprised.

Jungkook ignores the heavy lump in his throat, the images burned behind his eyes, and rolls over. Tries to sleep it off.


Jungkook has a hard time looking Yoongi in the eye, for the next week, following the incident. He wonders if he’s supposed to feel this guilty.


“What movie are we watching?” Yoongi asks from across Jungkook’s room, where he’s kindly putting away the last bits of his laundry. Jungkook is already lying on his bed, laptop resting on his stomach as he looks for an online stream.

“We are watching,” Jungkook pauses, giving a small little a-ha! when he finds it. “the human centipede.”

“That’s disgusting,” Yoongi groans, flopping down onto the mattress next to him. “You’re disgusting.”

Jungkook snorts, clicking play and letting the stream buffer. The thumbnail of the movie doesn’t look promising. Depends on what kinds of promises, he supposes. “And you hang out with me?”

“Unfortunately,” Yoongi sighs, though he smiles when Jungkook scowls at him. “I think I deserve an award. I don’t know how I do it, really.”

“I will leave you to watch this movie alone.” Jungkook threatens, though he’s already tugging on the corner of the blanket Yoongi’s sitting on, so that he can crawl under.

Jungkook and Yoongi do have a lot of free time, all of sudden. Now that final exams are over, there isn’t all that much to do around campus. On the days of snowstorms, Jungkook can’t think of many better things than to get comfortable and watch movies with someone you-, really enjoy. A good friend.

Taehyung’s already left to go back home for the next few weeks, Namjoon as well. Yoongi and Jungkook both go back the following week, so now, much to Jungkook’s delight, they have time to themselves. Really themselves.

 It isn’t that Jungkook doesn’t like spending time with all his friends (three, now!). He just really likes time with Yoongi.

“I think you just try to pick worse and worse movies, every time.” Yoongi challenges, shifting so Jungkook can successfully tug the blanket.

“You got me,” Jungkook banters back without much focus, this has become second nature to him. “It’s my excuse to use you as a human shield.” He mock-confesses, setting the laptop now on an indignant Yoongi’s chest, so he can get more comfortable. Jungkook rests his head against Yoongi’s shoulder, just enough so that he can still see the screen, but not enough that he actually cares about the movie.

“You’ll fall asleep like that.” Yoongi warns, Jungkook only shrugs.

“Boo you.”

Jungkook does end up dozing off. He sniffles softly against Yoongi’s shoulder with every inhale, a tiny huff of an exhale follows. It’s endearing, really.

He only comes back to consciousness when he realizes Yoongi is shaking against his shoulder.

“W-What,” He yawns, feeling even more comfortable with the constant patting of Yoongi’s hand against his cheek and hair.

“Your phone keeps going off,” Yoongi says quietly, as he stares at his own phone. The movie plays on in the background, though Jungkook sees it’s been muted.

“Oh,” Jungkook sits up, rubbing at his eyes as he grapples for his phone. He sees the notifications that he’s gotten more grades, and he’s suddenly both excited and nervous.

Professors were just about done submitting their grades, but Jungkook still had a few straggling ones left that he was waiting for. That is, before he could really let himself get stupid over the Christmas break. He opens his student account, waiting for the grades to load in.

When he sees them, his stomach feels as though it’s slowed down. Jungkook thinks there must be something wrong.

Of the two he received, only one of them was okay. Not even good, just, it was okay. There other two-, Jungkook felt something hot creep up his throat.

He’s never failed anything in his life. He can’t stop staring at the grade, then flicking his eyes to the class average only to see that he’s so much lower than it. It hurts even more to realize that he was the only one who fucked up so badly, clearly.

But how did he even manage to? Jungkook thought he understood the topics well, his papers always came out properly articulated but this grade was-, this was absolutely terrible. And maybe he was being dramatic because One Grade Shouldn’t Determine Your Whole Life but this- this completely felt like it did.

His eyes hone in on the only comments his teacher provided:

-good ideas

-lack of verbal support/ analysis/ conclusion

Jungkook shuts his phone and stares into his lap. He failed his assignment because he didn’t talk enough. He didn’t talk enough.

“Kook-ah?” Yoongi asks, and Jungkook hears him, but it’s like he’s moving a little bit underwater. He isn’t sure if he should kick Yoongi out, telling him that he wasn’t feeling well, or if he should just suck it up and pretend nothing happened. He wasn’t sure he could do either, really.

“Jungkook?” Yoongi asks again, and this time there’s a hand being placed on his shoulder, jostling him gently.

Jungkook has to shut his eyes because they’re burning, and when he blinks, they’re wet. He brings a hand up to wipe at them, but as he does that, Yoongi is also lifting his chin up sharply. His breath hitches for a moment, before his expression contorts into one of intense worry .

“What happened,” Yoongi asks, his palms coming to hold his face in place. It was a question but it sounded like a demand. Jungkook feels a lot like a deer caught in headlights. With the way Yoongi’s eyes keep searching his, waiting for a response, it’s getting harder to see anything , tears keep blurring his vision.

Jungkook yanks his face out of Yoongi’s hands, curling his chin in towards his chest as he lets out a first, embarrassing sob.

He feels so terrible.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Yoongi rushes out, voice soft. He doesn’t try to touch Jungkook again but seeing him this sad wrenches something out of him.

Jungkook is aware of the fact that he’s never been sad in front of Yoongi, let alone cried to him. This was more humiliating than anything he could’ve imagined, as if this wasn’t hard enough.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong.” Yoongi’s voice is hardly more than a whisper, and Jungkook can’t see any of his face from screwing his eyes shut tightly. He needs to calm down right now, otherwise he probably won’t be able to stop himself from being upset, from-, from stuttering too.

“I got got a-, uh- a really bad grade, hyung.” Jungkook says quietly, voice filled with disappointment and self-loathing. He doesn’t want to see Yoongi’s expression. “Really, really b-bad.”

He sniffles heavily a few times, trying to stop any more tears from leaking out. The tip of his nose must be all red, colour descending down to his cheeks and up to his forehead. Jungkook cringes as he feels either a tear or a drop of snot hit his upper lip. He probably looks so gross.

“Oh,” Yoongi pauses for a moment after, and Jungkook grits his teeth. He knows it sounds like such a stupid thing to be upset about. Such a stupid thing, of him to have gotten such a bad mark. “Oh Jungkookie, that’s okay.”

“It’s n-not,” Jungkook insists, a few little sobs attaching themselves to the ends his words. He can’t really stop himself from crying even if he wanted to, he just hates himself for it. He just can’t stop himself from thinking about how he’s let himself down so badly.

He’s being stopped by the one thing he’s worked so hard to defend himself against. The one he’s spent his whole life saying it wouldn’t define him.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi sighs gently, this time reaching up a hand to wipe a few tears off Jungkook’s cheek, probably only smearing them around a little more. He hadn’t even realized that he was this fucking upset by this. “Don’t cry, please.

“M-my teacher,” Jungkook huffs out, holding the heels of his hands firmly against his eyes. He feels Yoongi’s hand wrap gently around his wrist, but doesn’t pull. “My t-teacher failed me f-for, for not t-talking, hy-hyu-,”

Yoongi doesn’t make him finish his sentence. He pulls him by the wrist, losing his already off-kilter balance as he tips forward. It’s a little odd what with Yoongi trying to manoeuvre Jungkook’s head to rest against his shoulder and with him being so stiff. Jungkook ends up shifting so that he’s leaning on Yoongi’s side, resting down more of his weight.

“Baby,” Yoongi tries, something in that just makes Jungkook crying that much more unbridled. Had he not been devastated, Yoongi saying that to him probably would’ve made Jungkook actually skip circles around the dorm room. “It’s not fair, I know.”

Jungkook just a bit too sad to really care about keeping himself together right now. He probably would’ve freaked out had he been alone, for sure, but there’s something about being around Yoongi that’s making him feel extra sensitive. Like, it’s embarrassing as shit for him to cry but he’ll cry anyways, because Yoongi doesn’t hate him for it.

Jungkook kind of wants Yoongi to say something. To break the sound of him sniveling and crying because it’s going to get really awkward for him any minute now.

“That was mean of them,” Yoongi tells him, stroking through his hair and down his back. His voice and levelled and calm, sending something peaceful shocking through Jungkook. Guiltily enough, Jungkook feels himself getting a little envious at his voice. His normal voice. “That was super mean.”

“She f-failed me,” Jungkook reiterates, frustration twitching through his neck. “Fucking-, b-because I didn’t t-talk enough-,”

“That shouldn’t be a reason to fail you.” Yoongi answers, shifting to pull the blanket up Jungkook’s shoulders again, holding him close. “I’m so sorry.”

“I t-try so hard and-,” Jungkook shakes his head, words getting waterlogged somewhere deep inside and he can’t even think about forcing out the rest of his sentence. It wouldn’t make much sense anyways, with his stammering. “N-not my f-fault-,”

“It’s not a fault thing!” Yoongi validates. “People don’t get to make you feel bad about this. This is not something to feel bad about.”

Jungkook only shakes his head again, feeling the rough press of Yoongi’s shirt against the corner of his eye.

“I know you do, anyways.” Yoongi’s mouth is so close to Jungkook’s forehead that his lips brush his skin. “I know you care so much.”

As much as Yoongi doesn’t get it, because he can’t really get it, Jungkook sort of thinks that he does. That, at least, he understands why Jungkook is so upset, without him having to explain it. It’s a really nice feeling, amongst it all. He’s finally being understood. Even if, yes, it’s embarrassing that Yoongi is seeing him so vulnerable about a part of himself that he despises.

When Jungkook quiets down, finally only sniffling every so often, Yoongi jostles him into another sitting position. He doesn’t take his hands off of his shoulders, steadying him and he doesn’t start talking until Jungkook makes eye-contact with him. “Listen to hyung, okay?”

Jungkook flushes, before chewing on the inside of his lip and nodding. He doesn’t want to speak.

“Your teacher is a fucking cunt,” Jungkook’s eyes widen, but Yoongi isn’t finished. “And if she had a problem with you not speaking, she should’ve spoken to you earlier in the semester. That’s not fucking right.”

Jungkook nods, rubs against the itchy tip of his nose with the palm of his hand.

“But you,” Yoongi continues regardless. Jungkook is a little shocked at how much Yoongi seems to care, nonetheless, about him. “You have absolutely no reason to be ashamed. I’m-, don’t look at me like that, I’m fucking serious. This isn’t a bad thing. You have nothing wrong with you. I understand it makes you shy but there’s nothing wrong with you.”

Jungkook drops his gaze to his lap again, unable to listen to someone else talk about this. He’d become desensitized to Taehyung’s pep talks, but Yoongi was a whole different story.

Jungkook only shrugs in response, when Yoongi doesn’t continue speaking. Jungkook won’t either. He wishes he could say something genuinely appreciate, because he was, but he just-, Jungkook couldn’t.

“Kook,” Yoongi mutters, straightening the blanket again. “I’m sorry. You’re wonderful and intelligent and so well-spoken. I hear the way you talk with me and Tae and Joon, huh? Hyung knows. We love you. Hyung loves you. Who fucking cares if that bitch doesn’t see it? Who fucking cares?

Yoongi- what?

Jungkook’s brain short-circuits momentarily, amidst Yoongi’s speech of sorts. Had he really just said all that? Did he mean all that? Jungkook had no reason to believe that he didn’t…but still. He isn’t sure anyone’s ever said something to him and so tangibly meant it. It’s as though he can feel it, like it’s coursing through the space between them, the space where their hands are still touching.

“Hyung doesn’t want to see you cry about this, Kook-ah.” Jungkook nods diligently, still a little shell-shocked at the small outburst.

Jungkook doesn’t realize he’d been practically chewing through his lip, until Yoongi reaches up and pulls it from between his teeth. “Stop that,” He chides. “Take a nap, forget about your teacher and human centipede.”

“Okay,” Jungkook finally says quietly, voice a little tired. There’s something about being with Yoongi that just makes him feel so safe.

It’s only once Yoongi has also settled down and handed him a headphone, does Jungkook finish speaking. He mutters it like a quiet little confession, hoping Yoongi understands all that he wants to say. Or thinks he wants to say. “Hyung, I like you too.”

Yoongi stills for a moment. Jungkook thinks he might’ve done the wrong thing. “Go to sleep, Kook.”

It’s good enough.



Sometimes, Yoongi doesn’t realize what he has, until he has almost has it.

And when he finds himself, grasping at straws and thorns, he finds it better to just let them go.

He doesn’t consider himself the proficient at letting himself be happy. Letting himself want and take. To be selfish, even when he really wasn’t. He doesn’t mean to be this way. He never intended on nipping things in the bud without ever realizing it, but sometimes, Yoongi couldn’t help it. He was just- he didn’t want to call himself negative, but he was. He always thought of the worst things that could happen, that nothing could good come out of anything remotely life changing. He chickens out.

 Yoongi’s gotten into- he doesn’t even want to say it- and now all of a sudden it’s catching up to him.

Yoongi watches Jungkook as he’s fallen asleep. His head is now dropping against Yoongi’s shoulder, his head tilted slightly upwards. His mouth is parted softly, his nose probably still stuffed up from his previous crying.

He watches and on and feels nothing but a wave of guilt. Yoongi had been concerned when Jungkook started crying, and then he’d gotten so overwhelmed with a sense of compassion, that it almost knocked him over. He’d frightened himself with the thoughts of all the words he wanted to tell Jungkook, in a moment of the other’s opened vulnerability. He’d only ended up saying the shallowest of things.

Yoongi hadn’t even really realized he’d wanted to say those things. And it scares him. The things that Jungkook makes him feel absolutely terrifies him.

He likes talking to Jungkook, likes spending time with him. Maybe, he just hadn’t realized that he-, that he maybe, liked him. And that was fucking scary too.

Jungkook came into his life randomly and brightly, despite his quiet shyness. Yoongi hadn’t expected to see so much of him, and to want to keep seeing him.

He feels as though someone has torn into him, ripped something meek, and sensitive out his chest, and held it out for Jungkook. Yoongi doesn’t like the feeling at all.

Jungkook shifts minutely against him, snuffling a few times before settling again. Yoongi tenses. He’s reminded of the hushed words Jungkook mumbled to him before falling asleep.

There’s just too many things that could go wrong. He felt wrong.

Had Yoongi let it get too far?

His gaze, that had drifted to stare off at nothing, drops back down to Jungkook. His heart seizes more than a little. He should’ve known that things between them were progressing to something he wasn’t ready for. Yoongi chews on the inside of his cheek, feeling a frustration building up somewhere high inside of him, mixed with a nauseous ache. He doesn’t know what to do.

Yoongi can’t do Jungkook wrong. He can’t do that. Not to Jungkook. And he’s frightened.

  • ERROR –

Jungkook spends Christmas alone. As alone as he can be surrounded by a large amount of family members.

He’d said goodbye to Yoongi earlier that week, as they’d both gotten separate busses out of the terminus. Jungkook had hugged him so tightly, he hadn’t wanted to let go. He didn’t want to be away from him, because it felt weird being so far from something that was now so firmly glued into his life.

Yoongi had let go first.

He knew Yoongi was all the way in Daegu, and there was a weird sort of feeling that settled through his lungs, down his spine. What was Yoongi doing right now? What was he like when he spoke to his family? When he played with the dog Jungkook knew he had? What did his room look like?

Jungkook seems to lose himself a little bit, in the voyeuristic thoughts of wanting to know someone even more completely. He doesn’t want to be a creep, he just wants to-, to know Yoongi. After the incident about his grades, Jungkook feels as though Yoongi’s seen the fleshiest, softest parts to him, the parts worn too thin over time. But Jungkook hasn’t seen Yoongi upset, not even once.

Maybe it was a childish of Jungkook to have cried in front of him. Maybe he should’ve better learned how to control his emotions. Maybe that’s what Yoongi had learned how to do.

“Why are you always so in your head, Jungkook?” His mother asks. He hadn’t realized she’d snuck up behind him as he was chopping vegetables.

Jungkook shrugs, unaware that he’d seemed to out of it. He knows it’s been getting on her nerves. “I’m okay.” He looks up to smile encouragingly at his mother, before looking over to where she’d made him leave his phone on the kitchen table. She told him he’d been too glued to ever since he’d gotten home. And there was nothing so important it couldn’t wait a few minutes, Jungkook.

There won’t be anything on his phone, anyways. Jungkook knows this. The only notifications he’s been getting since he’d gotten home were from Taehyung.

He hadn’t heard from Yoongi once. Besides the small confirmation text he’d received, letting him know that he was in Daegu safe and sound, it’s been radio-silence on his end.

Jungkook feels his stomach churn at the thought of not talking to Yoongi, but he tells himself to get over it. People don’t have to talk everyday. He doesn’t need to hear from Yoongi-hyung all the time. It probably isn’t healthy to be so happy from one person, anyways. Yoongi was surely doing just fine, spending time with his family and friends. Fine.

It doesn’t mean Jungkook didn’t try texting him at first, really. He would swallow down the little lump of nerves every time he looked at his previously unanswered text messages, and just hoped Yoongi would suddenly reappear. Unscathed and unannoyed at Jungkook’s incessance.


You: I made it home hyung!!!!!

You: or back to busan 

You: I miss u already : ((((( lame


You: hyung my mom just threw HAM at Me

You: HAM


You: hyunggg u better laugh at the ham because it took me so fucking long to scrub the scent out

You: disgostang

You: I hope ur having a good time at home!!! I wanna facetime with you soon so I can see ur dog hehe


You: hyung! Do u wanna facetime today?

You: only if you’re free of course…

You: i’m free whenever!! so lemme know:)


You: merry christmas eve yoongi-hyung… I hope you’re having a good time : (

You: I’ll have a good time too!

You: or i’ll try too

You: hahaha please tell me you haven’t died.


Jungkook feels bad and tries not to cringe at his own antics. He was probably coming off too desperate, while Yoongi was just busy with his family. After all, he went back to Daegu to see them. He’s sure nothing bad has befallen his Yoongi-hyung, it just doesn’t seem likely. Jungkook is just…upset.

He’d stopped trying after Christmas Eve. He’d failed to get rid of the tight, little ball in his throat that kept asking him if maybe Yoongi was sick of him. Once Jungkook had started thinking that, he hadn’t had a moment of restful thought, since.

“Can you please stay off your phone and play with your cousins?” His mother’s voice permeates his thoughts again, and Jungkook nods mechanically.

“Will do.”

“I’m sure Taehyung can wait.” He knows she’s only joking with him, can hear the smirk in her voice because she loves Taehyung, but sometimes he loathes the ignorance of the comments that are passed his way. He gets it: everyone thinks Taehyung’s his only friend. People don’t have to keep bringing it up.

“That he can.” Jungkook confirms, finishing his chopping, before sliding the cucumbers off the cutting board and into the bowl next to him. He wipes his palms on his sweatpants. “I’m going to shower.”

He doesn’t look his mother’s way when he turns around, hightailing it out of the kitchen and up the stairs, back in his room, now a guest bedroom. The door shuts quieter than he would’ve liked it to.

It’s only much later does he text Yoongi. When the clock is creeping it’s tendrils towards midnight and Jungkook can feel it pressing down on his tired shoulders.


You: merry late Christmas yoongi-hyung

You: my Christmas sucked

You: hope yours was nice, I guess.


  • ERRORS –

Somehow, much to his own disbelief, Jungkook lasts until New Years Eve. Then, he isn’t required to spend time with his underage family members, who hardly last until midnight. Then, he’s able to sneak some alcohol away from the older adults, back up into his room and try to distract himself by watching anime. Jungkook doesn’t even like alcohol all that much, but there’s this huffy part of him that just tells him he needs it.


As he checks snapchat, he watches Taehyung’s story and sees that he’s with Namjoon for New Years. They look so happy together, Jungkook doesn’t doubt that they’ll probably end up together forever. Yoongi hasn’t posted anything on his story since the first day that he’d gotten to Daegu, which was quite odd of him. Jungkook had gotten used to seeing the little clips of Yoongi’s music production or going out to eat with his friends.

Jungkook tells himself to not feel so bad, as he opens the bottle of raspberry vodka he’d stolen from downstairs. It’s not like anyone would be drinking that anyways, they wouldn’t miss it. His nose scrunches up as he takes a first swig. It tastes both sweet and bad.

He snuggles, tummy down, onto his bed and presses play on the next episode of Shokugeki no Soma. That should thoroughly distract him from anything else. Anything, that is.

Jungkook alternates drinking the vodka with the water bottle that he’d had before, and he doesn’t realize just how much alcohol he’s consuming. Too absorbed with the show, Jungkook also doesn’t realize how nice it feels to have his mind be peacefully near-blank. He can hear his family getting louder and more agitated as the time drags closer to the New Year, and it’s only when Jungkook looks over to his monitor’s clock, does he see there’s only five minutes to midnight.

His hand shoots out to the phone that he’d flipped over before, so as to not feel sorry about the lack of notifications coming in. Jungkook had honestly managed to forget about it for a little bit. About Yoongi, that is.

His hands feel a little clammy, the screen slipping under his fingers. Jungkook realizes how hot he is under his shirt, sticking unpleasantly to his skin. Is alcohol supposed to make you sweat? He doesn’t know, doesn’t really care to find out either. All Jungkook cares about his Yoongi.

He’s pressing on his contact rapidly, like the muscle memory sensation that it had become. Jungkook puts the phone on speaker, dropping it onto his comforter before pausing his show and flopping back down as well.

Jungkook listens to the ring of the phone, making him a brrr noise with his mouth after everyone of them. It feels weird against his lips, tingly.


Jungkook honestly hadn’t expected there to be an answer. In the interim between the dial and the call, Jungkook had near forgotten what he was even doing.

The minute that Jungkook hears his voice, he sweeps up his phone and turns it off speaker, cradling it against his ear. This is something he wants only to himself.  “Y-Yoongi-hyung!”

There’s silence on the other end, Jungkook breathing slightly too heavy on his side. There’s an off, anxious energy that he can feel almost transcending the phone call. That perhaps this wasn’t the right idea. Perhaps he should have just left Yoongi alone.

But Jungkook doesn’t give a fuck about what’s right. He gives a fuck about Yoongi.

“What is it?” Yoongi asks, voice quiet. Despite everything he’s feeling, he’s near elated to hear Yoongi’s voice uttering those simple words. Behind him, Jungkook can hear the soft din and clatter of a party. Probably more tame than Jungkook’s family downstairs.

What is it? Jungkook doesn’t know. Drunk Jungkook has an even harder time piecing things together. He goes for the obvious. It drops like a hammer on the call. “W-why are you ignoring m-me?”

Jungkook squints his eyes, as he waits for a response. Whether it be the dizziness or the impending sensation of a bomb about to explode, he doesn’t know. When he doesn’t get an immediate response, he asks again. “Why are you-,”

“Jungkook, can I call you back?” Yoongi says, words rushed and slightly clipped. Jungkook scowls, this time, because that hardly sounds like his hyung. He’s heard this voice before. The one he reserves for his frustrations. Jungkook is-, never was a frustration.

“N-No,” Jungkook replies huffily, twisting to lie down on his back. When he does that, the world spins on it’s axis. His bottom lip pouts out in frustration. “I want answers.”

“Jungkook, are you drunk? I-,”

“What are we, h-hyung?” Jungkook had imagined that he’d be asking these words under very different circumstances. For the past weeks, he’d been dancing the thoughts through his mind, seeing how far they could wander down into the future, before he reeled them back in. He’d consistently felt hopeful that Yoongi’s answer to his question wouldn’t be a bad one. It was such a nice feeling, Jungkook thinks, to ask things only because they’re a formality. Not because he doesn’t know maybe Yoongi likes him back.

Jungkook doesn’t know anymore. He didn’t mean to ask. But he asks anyways.  

“Like,” Jungkook puffs out his cheeks, hoping that Yoongi is still even on the line. He starts to list his Very Convincing Arguments. “Like we c-cuddle all the time, hyung. We-, you’re like my other half! We’re in s-sync. I like spending time with you so much b-but not like with T-Tae-,”

“Let’s talk about this-,”

“And at this p-point,” Jungkook ignores him. His cheeks are warm with the weight of his confessions but it’s not like he cares. “you know I like you. I want to k-kiss you. I want you to kiss me. And where-,” Jungkook takes a deep breath, one he didn’t even know he needed. “Where the f-fuck have you been? You haven’t said a word t-to me in weeks. What the fuck, hyung? What did I even-,”

“We’re not talking about this.” Yoongi’s voice is sharp with a precision that makes Jungkook stop in his tracks. “We-, we’ll talk about this when we get back to school. Okay?”

Jungkook whines, feeling something petulant and hurt bubble around inside of him. He bits the tip of his tongue, trying to will away the tight feeling in his chest. He isn’t fine with this. “O-okay.”

It’s quiet, but Jungkook be damned, he tries one more time.

 “Sattelite to sp-, to sp-, Yoongi-hyung,”

“Goodbye, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s phone is still clutched tightly against his ear for a good ten minutes after the call ends.

  • SAVED FILE: 75%.

 Jungkook does, indeed, spend the rest of his break wondering what the fuck happened. After he’d fallen asleep, sprawled out on top of his covers, still dressed, he’d awoken with more than a bitter taste in his mouth. It didn’t take him very long to recall his talk with Yoongi. He remembered everything that was said. Though when sober, he tried to convince himself that when drunk, he must’ve missed something, because Yoongi had been evasive and hardly made any sense.

He doesn’t bring it up to Taehyung, actually. At first, Jungkook’s initial response had been to spam him with a demand of call me texts. But he found that the more he stewed over Yoongi’s response, the more he didn’t want to share it with anyone else. Jungkook severely didn’t want to think of it, either. Every time he did, an embarrassing shock travelled down his spine and into his stomach, making him feel queasy.

Yoongi had just been so harsh with him, Jungkook wonders if maybe he, himself, had been too immature, once again.  Too whiny and demanding of his attention.

Regardless, Jungkook feels like complete shit for the next week and a half.

It seems an eternity before he’s packing his things again, bidding his family goodbye and heading back to Seoul.

It sucks. Jungkook is bitter about the fact that all of this could’ve been solved when they talked. Or, when Jungkook talked and Yoongi shut him down. Cruelly, if he allows himself to think that.

Didn’t Yoongi know it was pretty shitty to make someone sit in their negative emotions like this? To let them think about all the things that could’ve gone wrong, Jungkook being completely oblivious to them?

When Jungkook settles into his train seat, he puts his music on shuffle, skipping the song him and Yoongi would always listen to, and closes his eyes.


“I’m sure he’ll come around,” Taehyung offers, through a mouthful of spicy chicken ramen. He picks up the next bite, extending it to feed Jungkook, who turns his head away, denying it.

He’d finally told Taehyung the minimum. That he and Yoongi weren’t talking right now, and that he didn’t know why.

“Does Yoongi-hyung ever do that?” Taehyung cranes his neck to ask Namjoon, who he’d cuddled up against. “He seems like the type to distance himself.”

Namjoon grimaces slightly, before straightening his features out. Jungkook doesn’t miss it. “It doesn’t really…seem like him. Yoongi is a pretty straightforward guy about most things.”

“Well, he’s being flaky as fuck.” Jungkook mutters moodily, shuffling on the couch.

Yoongi had said they’d talk back on campus. Jungkook had only assumed that that would be nearly as soon as they got back. Almost a week and a half back into classes and Jungkook has heard absolutely nothing. Not a single word, and no sign of him on campus.

What the fuck.

“Don’t be so grouchy.” Taehyung coos, reaching out to ruffle his hair as he usually does, only to get his hand knocked away. He frowns at Jungkook’s gesture.

“I’m pissed off.” He states, hoping that Taehyung will take that as a good enough apology. “I’m really, really fucking pissed off.”

“Tell him that.” Namjoon ventures his offer, shrugging slightly at his own advice. “I mean, at this point, what do you have to lose?”

Jungkook bristles. “I wasn’t under the impression I was losing anything. Thank you-,”

“Don’t fight.” Taehyung warns. He drops his gaze from Namjoon down to Jungkook. “You should tell him that, if you’re so angry. What good is done by just keeping it to yourself?”

Jungkook thinks that over, for a moment. He doesn’t expect nor does he want his friends to say anything to Yoongi, so it’s not like it would get across to him that way. Yoongi can probably already infer that Jungkook is upset, but if he’s being avoidant, how much does he really care? That thought only suffice to upset him even more.

And well, Taehyung is awfully good at giving advice. When paired with Namjoon, they’re a little bit too dynamic of a duo.

“I’m gonna tell him.” Jungkook nods resolutely, an off, anger-driven courage pushing through him. “I’m gonna tell him.”

“Uh…great.” Namjoon comforts, sharing a look with Taehyung. “Go ahead and do that.”

As if on command, Jungkook springs up from his seat almost comically, nodding to himself again. He grabs his phone from where it had been charging (checks for a message from Yoongi, doesn’t see any), and slips his shoes on. He grabs his coat and throws it over his shoulder. Taehyung’s arm is following him with a bite of noodles and this time Jungkook does lean down and take it.

“Where are you going?” Taehyung asks, putting the empty bowl down on the coffee table.

Jungkook looks up at him, blinks a few times, chews his food and swallows, before answering. “To tell Yoongi-hyung?”

“You-, Wait, you’re going to tell him in person?”

“Uh,” Jungkook pauses again. His eyebrow raises in confusion. “Yes?” When faced with the two near blank faces of his friends, Jungkook has doubts. “Should I…not? I can call him or-,”

“No! Go.” Taehyung urges, making shooing motions with his hands until Jungkook throws open the door and all but slams it behind him.

Jungkook knows he probably looks fiercely bizarre, as he storms through the halls and out into the center of his campus. Outside, it’s snowing the thick, wet snowflakes that clings to his skin and his hair, dampening him almost immediately. He puts his coat on but doesn’t bother shrugging the hood up, already swerving through the groups of people around him.

Jungkook doesn’t bother going to Yoongi’s room, because chances are he won’t be there but his roommate will be, and it would just be awkward. Instead, he goes straight for the music building, feeling very similarly like the first time he’d walked in there. Ill-fitting and uncomfortable, only looking for Yoongi.

When he gets into the hallway with all of the book-in studios, Jungkook feels slightly like a creep as he pokes his head to look through the window of every single one. Jungkook thoroughly embarrasses himself before he gets to the end of the hall, one of the last studios tucked away on the right corner. Just like the first time.

Jungkook finds Yoongi sitting with his back to the door. This time, he doesn’t knock. Something quickfire and virulent kicks at the inside of Jungkook’s chest.

He opts for slamming the door open instead. The clatter of the door smacking the interior wall is enough to make Yoongi jump, yanking his headphones off of his ears and turning around.

Jungkook can imagine that Yoongi had expected a multitude of things, in that moment. A bomb going off. Someone holding him at gunpoint, maybe. But judging by the look of surprise on his face, Yoongi had not been expecting a snow-soaked Jungkook, appearing before him like an omen of bad luck.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but he shuts his mouth as Jungkook steps inside and closes the door.

“I’m not sitting down.” Jungkook says, entirely unsure of where that came from. It’s too late for him to second guess himself now.


“Okay,” Yoongi comments, eyes still trained warily on Jungkook.

As heated as Jungkook feels, seeing Yoongi after such a long while is so nice. He hadn’t realized you could miss someone’s face that much. He looked sleepy, in a large university-printed sweater that he would often let Jungkook wear, (though it fit normally on him), and what would appear to be pyjamas pants.

“I haven’t seen you weeks,” Jungkook’s voice comes out as more of a quiet hiss, as though he’d been sucker punched by the reality of his own words. Yoongi’s face is impassive. “I-, you left and said we’d talk. We didn’t talk all break. Not once. Until I drunk called you-,”

“I was busy.”

“Bullshit.” Jungkook spits angrily, more hurt than anything else. This is what it’s like, Jungkook realizes, the hurt more than anything.  Yoongi’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. “You’re lying to me.” There’s something about that, that aches more than any of it all. Jungkook just wants to know why. Why everything.

And it hurts.

“Why are fucking lying to m-me?” Jungkook asks, sucks in a few sharp breaths when he hears himself begin to stutter. His eyes are prickling, he’s always been the one to cry when he gets overly emotional, he hates it. Hopefully not enough that Yoongi can detect, though he’s forcing himself to maintain eye-contact. “You haven’t t-told me the truth even once-,”

Yoongi sighs, rolling his chair around so he’s facing Jungkook. He doesn’t stand, but at least he’s listening. Jungkook isn’t too sure of all that he has to say just yet, he’s going with the flow of feeling.

“I thought maybe you d-died,” He laughs bitterly, dragging a hand across his clammy cheek. “B-because who disappears like that? Huh? But you answered when I c-called you,” Jungkook shuts his eyes, shaking his head, before straightening out his shoulders and sighing. “You said we would talk. Let’s talk.”

Now, Jungkook sits down in the other chair, rigidly. He probably looks just as uncomfortable as he feels, but he needs to know. “Where did you g-go? Because you weren’t b-being weird with me before the c-call, so I just wanna know,” Jungkook trails off for a moment, thinking that maybe something did fissure between him and Yoongi. His shoulders slump in defeat as he looks back up towards Yoongi. This time, his eyes are pathetically wet. “Did I d-do something wrong?”

“Jungkook, no.” Yoongi rushes, leaning over the table in his seat. He looks as though he was going to reach out to Jungkook, but thought better of it. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”

“Then why are you avoiding m-me?” Jungkook sniffles, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly, to stop from crying. He’s angry. He needs to be mad.

This time, he has no choice but to wait for Yoongi to speak. This conversation, Jungkook refuses it to be one-sided. If he’s already having poisonous doubts of Yoongi not caring about him, he can’t force him to speak either.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, recently.” Yoongi starts, after a long moment, voice quiet. When Jungkook looks at him, his eyes are trailed on the table between them.

It’s not good enough, though. “Stop being vague,”

“I’m getting there.” Yoongi mutters, pushes his hand through his hair and down his face again. He finally casts Jungkook a glance. “What you said on the phone scared me, okay?”

That was something Jungkook hadn’t anticipated hearing. He thought Yoongi hadn’t really felt anything towards him, in that moment. He seems to underestimate the complexity of the emotions other people can have.

Jungkook shrugs, regardless. “I d-don’t understand,”

“I knew you liked me.” Yoongi says, voice rolling off his tongue like guilt. Something shy and embarrassed runs laps in Jungkook’s chest. “I’ve known for awhile, actually.”

Something cold seems to trickle down Jungkook’s spine. Had his confession, that time when Yoongi had consoled him, been the reason he was driven away? Had he made things unbearably awkward for Yoongi? This was his fault?

“I’m s-sorry,” Jungkook whispers. With his head down, a tear slides down the bridge of his nose, clattering on the table. He doesn’t want to lose Yoongi over this. He can’t. “H-hyung, I can g-get rid of th-the feelings,” He’s making promises he knows he can’t keep.

“No, Jungkook,”

“No, I c-can. I swear it.” Jungkook’s voice is teary and closed off, more droplets sliding down the bridge of his nose. “I really-“ He grits his teeth. “Really wanted you t-to like me but I can take it h-hyung. I don’t w-want to lose you b-because of my stupid crush-,”

“I never said that.” Yoongi continues, firmer than before. Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi’s hand comes into his eyesight, wiping a dangling tear off his nose. “I never said your feelings were stupid.”

Jungkook shakes his head, eyes wet and eyelashes clumped together almost painfully. “But you d-don’t like me b-back,”

Yoongi sighs again, before his hand tips Jungkook’s chin upwards. “Jungkookie, can you let hyung speak, please?” Jungkook moves his face away from Yoongi’s hand, continuing to sniffle. “And please try to calm down. Hyung doesn’t like seeing you so sad.”

“Hyung m-made me sad,” Jungkook answers bitterly, using his sleeve to wipe aggressively at his face.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Yoongi says, and for what it’s worth, it sounds sincere. Jungkook doesn’t know what else he can say about it, in that moment.

“Jungkook, your feelings aren’t stupid. But they scared the fuck out of me, honestly.” He laughs nervously, but stops when he sees Jungkook’s sad and upset eyes, still waiting for any kind of relief. “I just, I got scared because I don’t know what I can give you.”

“What you can give me?” Jungkook asks, too confused to be flustered.

Yoongi, much to Jungkook’s dismay, looks guilty and ashamed. He drops his elbows onto the table and his face into his hands. He stares off at the wall for a moment, in thought, before turning back to Jungkook. He really does look tired.  “I thought that if I didn’t talk to you for awhile, you’d be mad with me and you’d stop liking me. I thought I could maybe make your feelings go away. And mine too.”

It takes him a minute, to let that sink in. He doesn’t even fully. “What the f-fuck?” Jungkook all but groans, already feeling angry again. He nearly misses Yoongi’s confession at the end. “Why the fuck would you d-do that?”

“Why would you like me?” Yoongi returns instead, voice loud and Jungkook is thankful for the heavy walls. “I’m-, Jungkook, I’m twenty-three.”

A pause. “So?”

“So,” Yoongi shakes his head. “You’re nineteen. I’m not saying you aren’t mature or aren’t-, whatever. But the gap is still there.”

“It’s not even bad!” Jungkook exclaims. “This was why you ignored me? B-because I’m nineteen? No offense, but you’ve known that since the beginning-,”

“Not just that.” Yoongi continues, gritting his teeth, sighing between them. Jungkook can imagine he hadn’t thought he would be confronted. “But you’re a freshman and I’m a senior, and I’m graduating in four months. We even spoke about it, I’m going back to Daegu for a bit after I finish school.”

“But then you’re coming back!”

Jungkook,” Yoongi sounds exasperated and slightly in disbelief. Perhaps he had thought Jungkook would just take everything told to him. “We’re in such different places of our lives. I don’t want,” Jungkook sees him chew on the tip of his tongue. “I don’t want you to feel tied down by some old guy, because you’re so young. You just started university. I’ll only be a weight.”

Jungkook’s quiet, taking in what Yoongi tells him. He hadn’t thought about most of things that Yoongi brought up, if he’s honest. The age difference, the difference in life experience, it just never occurred to Jungkook as something worth worrying over. “So…you didn’t give me the opportunity to speak for myself, at all. Is what I’m hearing. Basically.” Jungkook tells him.

Yoongi seems to gape for a moment. “Well-, I just did what I thought was best-,”

“You self-destructing and pushing me away was the wrong thing to do. You were really going to give up our friendship, to preserve your sense of loathing? Really?” Jungkook’s voice comes out level and quiet. There’s no essence of frustration left to be heard, though he knows it’s nestled there somewhere.

Yoongi definitely doesn’t look pleased with Jungkook’s accusations, but Jungkook wasn’t pleased with anything that had happened over the last month. He doesn’t really care if Yoongi has to tolerate a few awkward minutes of reprisal.

Jungkook still wants this to work out, though.

“Yoongi-hyung, I hear what you’re saying but I,” Jungkook sighs, before shrugging towards Yoongi. “I just don’t get it. Do you like me enough to be with me?”

“Jungkook. Just think about-,”

“It’s a very simply question, hyung.” Jungkook cuts in, tired of skirting around important topics.

Yoongi’s cheeks are tinted a light shade of pink. Whether it be from high intensity emotions or the bluntness of Jungkook’s discourse about feelings, he isn’t sure. “I…yes. I do. I like you a lot.”

“Okay,” Jungkook nods. “So do I.”

“But you’re missing the point-,”

“There’s no point.” Jungkook stops him again. “All you did by ignoring me was hurt my feelings, honest to fuck. You should’ve just been straight up with me, like I was with you. I’m not going to ever force you into anything, and we can just stay friends, but if you like me and I like you…” Jungkook isn’t sure where he was going with this. It felt good to finally say these things to Yoongi and to know that he was listening, but he wasn’t sure what more he could do. Jungkook offers what feels right. “Why can’t we just. Try?”

Yoongi’s brows furrow minutely. “Try?”

Jungkook chews on the skin of his thumbnail. His leg bounces under the table. “Why not? What do we have to lose?”

Yoongi lets out a low whistle at the prospect. “A fuckton, probably.” Jungkook can’t help the small laugh that escapes him. In hindsight, Jungkook could’ve been more sensitive to what Yoongi was conflicted with, in those moments. He could’ve tried to see where Yoongi’s head was really at, but he was feeling too optimistic.

Jungkook catches the little, hesitant look Yoongi gives him. Finally, he sighs. “We can try, Jungkookie. I just, I don’t know how good I can be to you-,”

“If you’re you, that’s good enough.” Jungkook means that with more sincerity than he’s ever felt in his entire life. His entire world brightens, considerably. Honest. “It’ll always be good enough.”

Yoongi rolls his chair closer to Jungkook, so that they’re two seats are squished together. He awkwardly leans over the armrests to hug Yoongi, and it’s like everything isn’t right, but it’ll be fine.

“So,” He drawls, cheek pressed against Yoongi’s sweater. “Do I get to call you my boyfriend?”


“I’m kidding! I’m kidding, honest.” Jungkook giggles. When he tilts his head and blinks up at Yoongi, his eyes feel crusty and sore, but the hopeful little smile tips the scale entirely.

Jungkook seems to almost doze off, with how warm he is still in his coat and squished up against Yoongi. He knows the older his awake, because he keeps drumming his fingers rhythmically against Jungkook’s upper arm. And then he speaks.

 “I’m sorry for not being honest, Kook.”

Jungkook sighs pleasantly, as the first signs of his Yoongi return to him. He leans up, mustering all of his bravery and plants a soft kiss against the underside of Yoongi’s jaw. He smiles softly into the skin.

“If you ever do that again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“You brat,” Yoongi scoffs, shrugging him off but still holding onto him, and for once Jungkook feels like he isn’t the one desperately grappling for anything.

Jungkook’s surprised, to say the least, when the grip Yoongi has on his jacket is used to pull him forward, planting a soft, solid kiss square against his lips. With his bright, widening eyes, the shock on his face is unmistakable. Yoongi thinks he looks like a doe. “H-hyung!” The flush on his cheeks is unmistakeable.

“Space station to satellite,” Yoongi starts, craning his neck to see the clock hanging on the wall. “We still have half an hour book in this room.”

Jungkook smirks, lets himself be pulled by the collar again until their lips are touching. He wonders if this is what it’s like to feel so close.

“No space jokes when we’re making out.”







“Jungkook, you don’t have to wear a tie. You don’t even own a tie!” Yoongi’s voice rings from near his bed, but it sounds so far away. Jungkook has his head buried in the depths of his closet, looking for anything presentable to wear.

“Then, I should b-buy one.” He huffs, straightening himself out and turning around to scowl at Yoongi. “What kind of respectable young man doesn’t have a t-tie?”

My respectable young man.” Yoongi mocks Jungkook’s scrunching nose when that’s the only response to his corniness he’s given.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, trying to pull up his one good pair of his jeans, hopping from foot to foot. “I’m scared.”

Yoongi rises from the bed, looking softer than heaven in one of Jungkook’s shirts and his boxers. It isn’t as often as he’d like, that Yoongi is on campus with him, just like old times. His hand on Jungkook’s cheek gives an immediate comfort, and Jungkook shuts his eyes. “I know you are, baby. But you’ve worked so hard, your presentation is going to go so well.”

Jungkook opens his eyes again, and he knows Yoongi can see how uncertain he looks. “This is a huge deal! This is my thesis, hyung. What if I don’t graduate? What if I m-mess up?”

Yoongi gives him the look. The look that Jungkook had been fixed with more times than he can count, over the last three years. Because Yoongi knows that when Jungkook says ‘mess up’ he means ‘stutter.’ “You cannot mess up, no matter what you do. Okay?” He begins doing up the buttons to Jungkook’s dress shirt, kissing every sliver of skin before tucking it away. He conceals his grin at the feel of Jungkook shivering slightly underneath him. When he finishes doing up his shirt, he fixes his collar. “You know so much about this topic, honey. You’re so knowledgeable and so smart. Maybe you’ll be nervous at first, but as soon as the ball starts rolling, you’ll be amazing. Hyung knows it.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, burying his face in his hands. Yoongi tuts, batting them away so he doesn’t ruin his hair. Yoongi knows him so well. Even after all these years, it’s still jarring how soothing the dulcet tones of his voice can be.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Think about it, Jungkookie. When we first met, you even stuttered around me. But as soon as you started talking you were fine.” When Yoongi looks at him, Jungkook swears his eyes shine. They glimmer with the years that they’ve known each other. All of the times that they’d initially struggled to find their footing had paid off in the end. Jungkook doesn’t know a life where he’s not in love with Yoongi. And he says it.

“I love you,” Jungkook breathes, thanking god that he had just brushed his teeth and didn’t cover Yoongi with sex-breath. He’ll never get tired of the way Yoongi flushes at the softest of things, but Jungkook just knows that then, he’s doing a good job. “I’m serious, Min Yoongi. I really fucking love you.”

“I love you too,” Yoongi mutters, hugging Jungkook tightly. “My baby, you’re so grown up. Let’s finish getting you ready.”

After Jungkook had gone over his dissertation another multitude of times, Yoongi reminded him that he had less than twenty minutes to get to his presentation. They walk there, hand in hand.

“Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook starts, looking out at the way the summer trees shift with the incoming breeze. “You remember the project?”

The project. Of course, Yoongi does. He snorts, lightly. “How could I forget? It’s what brought you to me.”

“Cheesy,” Jungkook blushes, Yoongi laughing along delightedly next to him. “As I was saying, I didn’t stop stammering because I started talking about a topic I was passionate about.”

“No?” Yoongi asks, looking up at Jungkook. They’ve stopped walking.

“Nah,” He grins, shaking his head. “It was always you, hyung.”

“M-Me?” Jungkook cackles lightly at Yoongi’s turn to be flustered.

“Yeah,” He squeezes Yoongi’s hand tighter, feeling more sure of himself now. “I was always passionate about you, hyung. All on.”

Yoongi doesn’t seem to know what to say for a moment, before he’s muttering something about greasy and I love you, while attacking Jungkook’s neck with ticklish kisses.

Jungkook loves him too, and he can say it confidently.