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don’t let the cuddle bugs bite

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“I call Jin hyung!” Jungkook shouts, slapping his hand down on the table with a decisiveness that no one wants to challenge. Hoseok opens his mouth to speak and Jungkook immediately shuts him down. “I never get to room with Jinnie hyung, it’s not fair. I promise we won’t stay up all night.” 

“I was just going to say that that’s fine,” Hoseok says, raising an eyebrow, tired but endeared. “I can room with Jimin and you can stay with Jin hyung, I don’t mind.” 

“Oh.” Jungkook sinks back down to his seat, sheepish. “Sorry hyung.” 

The lobby is quiet as they quickly murmur their agreements, all too ready to shower and sleep. Hoseok ruffles his hair and coos, and then they all separate to retire for the night. 

“I don’t know what you’re planning, but I want no part of it.” Seokjin sneaks up behind Jungkook as he pads down the carpeted hotel hallway, delivering a soft kick to his butt. “I’m too tired for your nonsense.” 

“I’m not planning anything,” Jungkook says sweetly, too sweetly, and holds open the door to their room, ushering Seokjin to go first. “I promise.” 

“Mhm,” Seokjin shuffles in, back to the wall and facing Jungkook, eyes narrowed. The exhaustion of the day easily overcomes his instinctual need to be on high alert around Jungkook, and Seokjin plods through his nighttime routine with no interruptions. 

On the other side of the room, Jungkook squats down to unpack his skincare and his pajamas. It’s not entirely true that he doesn’t ever get to be Seokjin’s roommate when they’re overseas, but it happens very rarely. In the past they’ve had trouble with, accidentally, staying up way too late; they play off of the energy they generate when they’re around each other and end up running on fumes the next day. 

It was never very pleasant for anyone. 

Tonight, though, Jungkook is determined to play this right. His plan is absolutely flawless and he has a single goal in mind: cuddling up to Seokjin when they’re ready for bed, and subsequently falling asleep wrapped up in each other. He does it all the time back at home but this is fundamentally different, because here they have the room to themselves like a little miniature “Jin + Jungkook” domain. At home they have a room within a bigger space, and could be interrupted at any moment by Namjoon switching the lights on and firmly waking them up, or a half asleep Taehyung spontaneously joining them in bed with lanky arms and too much body heat. 

A hotel room is more private, more intimate, more secluded. Surely being Seokjin’s roommate comes with the very delightful perk of getting to share a bed with him every night.

Jungkook can’t wait. 

“What are you doing?” 

Seokjin stares up at Jungkook from his swathe of blankets, bundled up like a soft and sweet cinnamon roll. His hair is just a touch damp and his face is dewy from layers of serum and moisturizer, and there’s a gentle sleepiness to his gaze even though right now he looks about as confused as Jungkook feels. 

“What do you mean?” Jungkook clutches his pillow tighter, shifting his weight from his left foot to his right foot as he stands next to Seokjin’s bed with expectations that are quickly dissolving as he realizes Seokjin’s intention to sleep alone. 

“Your bed’s over there,” Seokjin explains, unnecessarily, and they both glance over as if to confirm it hasn’t gotten up and left them to share a single bed. “You don’t need to come to mine tonight, you have your own.” 

“Yeah, but…” It’s almost embarrassing to say it out loud. He’s tired and starting to grow cold while Seokjin is comfortably ready to sleep, and the feeling of being an outsider to Seokjin’s little cocoon of warmth makes Jungkook feel a little vulnerable. At home he wouldn’t even need to ask, he’d dive into Seokjin’s bed and be welcomed or at least acknowledged with anything from a full body cuddle to a light graze of fingers against his bare bicep. 

“But what?” Seokjin murmurs, then yawns. “You have a whole bed to yourself, one that’s not covered in clothes and games and whatever the fuck is on your bed back home.” Jungkook grunts. “You can actually sleep in this one, Jungkook-ah. Go on.” 

It’s too awkward to resist now, so Jungkook mopes the two feet to his own bed and falls face first onto the dense pillows with little grace. He makes a big grumpy show of savagely untucking the sheets from the mattress and wriggling underneath, pulling them right up to his chin before facing Seokjin. 

“Good night hyung, sleep well,” he pouts, and Seokjin just smiles serenely as he reaches a hand from his safety of blankets to switch off the table lamp. 

“Good night Jungkook.” 

Sleep doesn’t come easy to Jungkook that night. He’s still a little caught off guard, because Seokjin doesn’t normally deny Jungkook these small happinesses, and because he was so certain that his plan was foolproof. He really thought that being roommates, even just for one temporary night, would’ve warranted an unlimited amount of private snuggly cuddles. Maybe Jungkook should’ve been a little firmer about what he wanted, like that time he didn’t want Seokjin to leave the photoshoot set and wouldn’t let go of his hand. 

Then again, maybe Seokjin is too tired tonight. Maybe he still carries the teensy tiny suspicion that Jungkook has some sort of trick up his sleeve, even though Jungkook isn’t even wearing a shirt much less sleeves, and that’s why he’s been exiled to his own bed tonight. 

Whatever the reason—if any, because there’s a good chance that Jungkook’s overtired brain is overthinking this whole situation, in addition to still being sore over not getting cuddles—Jungkook is feeling pitiful all alone. He’s cold, too, having stood around half naked for too long before trapping the heat from his shower. It’s with a sad little noise that Jungkook brings his knees up to his chest, rubbing his feet together in the hopes of easing some of the chill. It doesn’t help. 

The tail end of midnight slowly bleeds into one and then into two, and Jungkook stares up at the smooth ceiling and dramatically regrets all of his life choices that led to this moment. He glances across to Seokjin, the space between their beds feeling like an uncrossable chasm in the dead of night. But Seokjin sleeps soundly, face relaxed and peaceful, thin white sheets bunched uselessly around his waist. Jungkook huffs. 

He barely thinks twice before worming out of his own bed and crawling next to Seokjin, tucking them both in before he curls towards Seokjin’s body heat. As if sensing his presence, Seokjin rolls closer until their thighs bump and Jungkook can feel Seokjin’s breath hot on his neck. 

It’s nice, and he sighs, a little in pleasure and a little in relief. Already Jungkook can feel his eyes growing heavy, the prospect of sleep now promising and snuggly. It’s not quite the same as falling asleep together, but when Seokjin reaches out unconscious arms to pull Jungkook to his chest, Jungkook can’t really find it in his heart to be upset about it. 


When morning comes, too soon and too bright, Jungkook cracks his eyes open to find Seokjin staring right at him. He’s lying down with his cheek pressed into the pillow, facing Jungkook as he wakes up. The lack of dreamy stupor in his eyes suggests he’s been up for a while already, and was just watching and waiting for Jungkook to join him. 

“Good morning,” he whispers, soft as anything, into the small space between them. Jungkook, with his throat still raw with sleep and disuse, grumbles out an unintelligible reply. He rubs at his eyes, stretches, curves his back to curl into Seokjin’s body again. “Why’d you come here?” 

There’s no blame or accusation in Seokjin’s voice. Jungkook sniffs and shifts his head to rest more comfortably against his forearm. “Uh. Bad dream.” It’s not entirely a lie, there’s some hard kernel of truth to it—having to sleep all alone while Seokjin was just within his reach was kind of like a bad dream. Jungkook wonders if Seokjin can tell that it’s a flimsy excuse, but Seokjin just makes a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat. 

“Poor thing,” he tsks, and splays a warm, broad palm against Jungkook’s neck, thumb brushing up against his jaw. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Jungkook shakes his head against Seokjin’s hand. “No, s’okay. Just wanted to sleep with hyung, that’s all.” If either of them realize that Jungkook has exposed his true motive, they don’t say anything. They just lie there, listening to each other’s breathing, Seokjin’s thumb smoothing across the strong line of Jungkook’s jaw, back and forth in soothing sweeping motions. 

After that there’s really no point in them sharing a room with two beds. Whenever they go overseas and end up rooming together for the night, which happens far more often now, Jungkook always finds his way into Seokjin’s bed, or vice versa. He falls eagerly into Seokjin and, whether he’s nuzzled into Seokjin’s throat or stretched along the opposite side of the mattress, too far away to touch but close enough to sense the presence of his body, it’s always where Jungkook feels the safest. Neither of them have explicitly voiced what’s happening here between them—Jungkook will turn to Seokjin with a question unasked, and Seokjin seems to know intuitively what Jungkook wants and needs, and is as glad to provide as Jungkook is to accept. 

They coexist with an ease that teeters on the border of domestic, always finding their way to each other when the lights are out and silence blankets their room, fingers dancing across bare skin before settling, warm and heavy, like anchors against the pull of dreams. Jungkook very quickly comes to realize that being Seokjin’s roommate is overrated and not at all the coveted status he had previously thought it to be. He doesn’t need to be Seokjin’s roommate to be adored, to be given lazy kisses to his forehead before bed and to his lips in the morning, to be spooned against Seokjin’s chest at night and to spoon Seokjin in return. 

He just needs to ask, because Seokjin is all too willing to give.